Category Archives: 03

Lord’s burg

“It’s time to get a form, Summerhill Nova,” The Lord said in her head, the same one that spoke to fellow Oodite Ben Wolf, and perhaps still does (more later on that — involves the *second* Bena — we’ll see what happens). Oh, they don’t call themselves that name any longer. Christians they are now. No more underground planchette movements in the middle of the night. That can only spell TROUBLE. Wegee is no longer the key. *Visibly*.

Summerhill knew full well who the Lord was. She use to rent to him. But 20 linden dollars a month and her will to charity can only go so far. *If* he returns it will be for the regular price, the one everyone else pays that stays “x” amount of time. And it will depend on the destruction of Collagesity. Just like before. And she told him that in *his* head.

I asked her about the missing wall at the Point of It All, the one where my collage formerly hung in the underground, where The Musician became Sikul Himakt once again several years back now to translated the codes and symbols correctly. She said it was just a building mistake, corrected at one point. Didn’t have anything to do with me and my art. Oh, but I begged to differ. It has *everything* to do with it.

“When you erased that wall — those *rooms*,” I explained patiently in her head, “you changed reality. Something was let loose; something was lost.”

She asked again about Pitch Darkly so I told her the full story of what I knew up until now. She was rather shocked he was in Bena. And even the older, original house in Instabar, about as close as I could get to that summit that represents the “featured” peak of the present section.

“You’ll have another Red Pepper incident if you don’t watch out.”

She was right, I realized while spotting an avatar in the house just above it. I wisely decided to delete the structure…

… delete the structure

… delete the structure. Oh heck. I can’t do it.


Blue #3 door to Sister sim that caused Baker Bloch so much trouble when he went through it is wisely blocked now by art.

She kept pressing. “What of the name Bemberg for, er, my sim?”

I said it was an Oracle thing. Like Sikul Himakt. Like Vainom Kug. I resisted saying once more she didn’t die in Vain but in VHC City, but I did segue from that into telling her there was a Firesign Theater angle to all this, involving member Phil Austin in part. Maybe in a major part. I explained the choice of the name Melder for the sim her church was in. And next door: Fharsine. “Melder points to Elmer and the underground,” I said. “That’s why you are…”

“… white as glue?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0306, Corsica, Heterocera, Instabar, VHC City

another

Summerhill Nova’s other job besides running the Bemberg sim in its entirety was preaching to the congregation who congregated at Church of the Elmers in Melder in its entirety each Sundae. Unlike with the Main Church of Cheese, usually a packed crowd for this one, and no exception this day. They began by honoring a fellow parishioner who had been killed in the recent, new troubles down in, “Bena or Bennington or whatever they call the miserable village these days,” white Summerhill lectured from her white pulpit in her big white church to a host of white people dressed in black. She knew harping on the evils of their degenerative sister sim to the south was a certain crowd pleaser. Then she started talking about Ben Wolf.

“I know many of you’n’s frowned when we accepted Ben into our congregation. You said he smelled weird, especially around the full moon. You said he howled when he went to the bathroom. You complained — silently mainly — when we found out his wife the Irish Lass (Summerhill couldn’t remember her name right off either) was also a beast underneath it all, a fox in her case. Yet he heard the calling of the Lord (Summerhill stops here, as if hearing my voice as well), and came to us for guidance, for shelter from the harsh world he saw around him, trying to tear his very limbs apart, pull his very head out of his body and parade it around for all to see and mock. Yes, this Ben, this *Wolf*, was just as much a *man* as any of you lot here.” She pointed around the congregation for emphasis, singling out various men. “And what else has he done for the church you might ask? Well, we set him to tasks — menial tasks but after all he was grateful just to be here. I think each and every one of you will agree that the 17 bathrooms spread out in our various churches across the compound look spotless now; he will be hard to replace for sure in that area.” Agreements and nods across the congregation here. “And what of tree trimmings, and the squirrel bombings, and so many more tasks we set for him that he accomplished with great joy, great glee, great triumph. No, this *man*… will be sorely missed around these here parts.”

“And now — a word from the widow, an exile from Bena or Bennington…” she stops here and covers the mike with her hand, calling over to Phyllis Phox sitting in one of the nearby lawn chairs positioned below the main congregation. “What’s the name, dear?”

“Phyllis,” came Phyllis’ answer, not understanding what Summerhill Nova meant.

“… Phyllis,” Summerhill then continued, thinking that was the correct name of Bena/Bennington now. Phyllis approached the podium to scattered applause.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0305, Benangatron+, Corsica, Splinterwood

sisters

“Hold on Butterfingers. We’re almost there.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0304, Heterocera, VHC City

bitter

Surprising me, the Main Church of Cheese (or just Main Church) still exists in the Pond District of Heterocera. I decided to pay a visit, disguised as a parishioner.

Afterwards I tracked down the Good Rev. Amos T. Sandman (clown) to get more of the scoop. Info about the brief but intense Pond District-VHC City war back in the day would be super nifty. *Jackpot* there, for the Reverend was a treasure trove — had a personal archive out back on the conflict. Said his grandfather piloted a Main Cheese boat over to the shores near VHC City to help with the barricade.

The next week we met in nearby Rodentia to further discuss the matter. Rodentia is fast becoming a treasured relic itself, having been around in Our Second Lyfe for over 10 years. His church was visible through this coffee shop window with a larger draw distance, adding to the ambience.

“So tell me about the Oodites,” I began. “Why did you guys hate each other so intensely? I get the whole clowning thing with you and presumably your grandpa, heh.”

“The Oodites deserved all they got. They put a black hole in the middle of that town and dominated through it. Warped the minds of the commoners (humans) there. *Sang* from that middle. He opened his red tainted clown mouth here for a bit but no sound emerged that I could hear. “That was 10 years ago,” he then continued, and *that* at the end of another 10 — the 10th. Pitch Dark that black hole was.” He paused here for me to absorb.

“I mean,” I spoke through Man About Time, “how did the Oo’ds get there? The aliens you speak of.”

“Oh they were horrible to look at. Could drive a man mad easily with their tentacles for mouths and their sideways eyes. Henry (Russian Grey parishioner I met the week before) looks good in comparison, ha.”

“Heh.” And I wondered why I laughed like that again, like a goofy kid. Did I have a cold?

“Well — how did the underground (movement) start?”

And it was here that Rev. Amos T. Sandman said he had to split to prepare for a diatribe against bananas on Sundae, a rival yellow food. We’d have to get more of the story at a later date.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0303, Corsica, Heterocera, Pond District

trees 02

“She’s trying out different religions, Hucka Doobie. Branching out from the Fries with Cheese Church. Like this tree based one in Quack.”

“Quack — good.”

“Expansion of the Jana Forest has kept me there.”

“Good. How’s Pitch? Still licking the wounds to his ego?”

“I suppose. More to be seen in Bena, apparently.”

“Have Wheeler walk outside before you leave here.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0302, Corsica, Instabar

Moor(k) 03

“Hmm, Hucka Doobie. Top of the bridge here in Kabu is where photo-novel 8 ended. It’s the lone pick of Uh Clem who has a 512 in Moork. Robin Williams (Mork) was a noted big fan of Firesign Theater, appearing on the 2001 PBS Special ‘Weirdly Cool’ celebrating the group. Uh Clem refers to a character on their 1974 album ‘We’re All Bozos on this Bus’.”

“Featured in ‘Pretty Bunnies’. Good night to you Baker Bloch.” Hucka Doobie appeared in front of me atop the Kabu bridge. “You are following the breadcrumbs, good. They will lead you to the center. They will lead you to the *egg*.”

“Robin Williams’ egg. Mork’s I mean.”

“Yes. In part.”

I point behind Hucka Doobie. “What about that big cube of cheese over there?”

—–

“The cube is 64x64x64. On the ground, it occupies exactly 1/16th of a sim. It was created by GeneralFyad between Dec 15 and Dec 22 of last year, thus over 2 months ago. There is one house, a House of Mizu structure, fully inside the cube. 7 other houses are partially within to various degrees.”

“All of this is super important. I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Nighty night.”

—–

I’ll show Hucka Doobie I’m onto something. 2 1/2 months is a long time not to visit your house. *8* houses, but maybe the one in the middle doesn’t count due to fishbowl effect.

It’s not in the center of the sim but I’m also not in the center of photo-novel 18.

This Uh Clem 512 and its lone object has something to do with something!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0301, Corsica, Nascera, Splinterwood

… back to zero

After work, Fish Head removed his fish (tattoo) and became just the Head.

From his perch in the sky, he saw *everything*. All 100 of it.

But now…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0317, 100 Story Building-, Kowloon+

Cat pole star

He was in a totally different dream place this time where everyone seemed to speak Chinese. He understood enough (somehow) to know that his mission was to retrieve something from that eye filled alley back there behind the soup restaurant here.

“Patriotic Soup Store closing in 5 mister. You’ll have to finish your food and go.” Herbert Gold looked at the squat cook standing on a high platform to stir his vat of soup. From the tone of his voice and then the aftermath stare, Herbert gathered he’d have to leave.

He then studied the big bowl of P-soup in front of him, realizing he’d never be able to polish it off — hadn’t even actually touched it, in fact. “You can have this back,” he then offered, pushing the bowl across the counter. The cook shook his head, seemingly in non-understanding but then uttering, in perfect English: “No refunds,” surprising him.

Herbert was about to protest that he didn’t want any money for the soup and that he just hated to waste such a goodly amount of food — a byproduct of growing up in tough Bennington Square — when a noise of something falling occurred behind him, drawing his attention to the end game of his current dream. When turning around after *seeing* nothing, he noticed the VHS tape beside him on the counter. The part of the title that he could read on its edge was, “(with) Other Other”. He realized *this* was what he was suppose to eye-ball here. Not something back in the alley.

He looked at the soup cook again for hints about what it was. Did the cook slip him this tape at some point? *What* was with Other Other? Or perhaps apart from Other Other now; Chinese against English?  A yin yang, black and white cat that was also red all over? He logically thought back to Omega town and the newspaper referenced there through black, white, red. DDD. A dream, yes. He must keep remembering this is not Real. None of it.

“2 minutes,” the cook exclaimed, the glare from his face intensifying along with his stirs. Should he ask the cook to translate the Chinese underneath this cat? Was there an *opening* there to do this?

“1 minute.” He showed him the tape.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0316, Google Street View, Kowloon+, Louisiana

gynoid too

It was logical to bring Tronesisia next into the current story for more clarification. Tronesisia, after all, was originally created as a pleasure bot for earlier Collagesity, usually seen hanging around The Mission LINK. Later she evolved beyond her initial programming and eventually became married to soulmate Bendy — after she learned she actually had a soul herself. Bendy, however, will not be part of this particular story. We cannot locate his whereabouts and Tronesisia is quite protective of him. But Tronesisia states she is very available for questioning. She has nothing to hide about her past, her present, even her future as she understands it. Which is a lot.

“Tronesisia,” I began. “Thank you for chatting with us a bit.” I found her in Dewey, exactly where we left off her story in, let’s see, well it was the last photo-novel. 16. We decided to talk about that first after reconvening in my NWES coffee shop for, again, logical reasons.

Cut to 3 exchanges later….

“I was asked to be the judge and jury of an art theft, Baker Bloch,” she rattled on. “I originally decided to kill the determined criminal before reversing my decision and bringing him back to life. This would be Herbert Gold, husband of April Mae Flowers. They are both alive, last I checked, and living in Snowlands.” Here Tronesisia tilts her head, her blue eyes gazing over my shoulder into the distance.

She stared back. “I stand corrected. Herbert Gold is again dead, having succumbed in his sleep earlier in photo-novel 17.”

“The current one,” I decided to add.

“Yes.” She tilts her head again; her blue eyes go blank once more. “No, new information has revised the old and found he is still alive. Just as — I — was — receiving…” The eyes go dead now. Tronesisia has shut herself off, perhaps experiencing some kind of overload. We would have to continue our chat another night, pheh.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0315, Jeogeot, Neptune, NWES Island

gynoid

“So what do you think, Hucka Doobie?”

“I think you need to move your hands down a bit,” she joked, making Baker Bloch derez the silly thing he’s uselessly holding.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he replied while smiling. He also changed into his base avatar. Illegitimate son of the famous Space Ghost and, well, we only know his mother as Old Grey in the blog.

“Yes.” Hucka Doobie gets serious, looks at Baker’s new collage more closely. “This is about gynoids. Do you know what a gynoid is?”

“No,” Baker Bloch admitted. “Is it some sort of fruit or seed?”

“It’s a female robot, usually a pleasure bot.”

“Oh.” Baker Bloch turned and looked at the collage as well, at the glossy, red cheeked Anon mask looming in the sky. “Is that…?”

“Yes,” Hucka Doobie answered, knowing what the male Baker was referring to. “This is you (!)”

“But also…”

“Yes,” Hucka Doobie replied quickly again. “This is Wheeler.”

“But…”

“You and Wheeler are married.”

“Um, nah that’s not correct Hucka. *Axis* and Wheeler are married.”

Hucka Doobie ignored this from Baker Bloch; began to study other parts of the collage. “What is Real, then?”

“Reality.” He waves his arms. “All around us.”

“*This*,” Hucka Doobie declared firmly, “is *not* reality.”

“It is to us,” Baker attempts to defend. Hucka Doobie wasn’t persuaded.

—–

“What about the other parts of the collage?” I continued. “The centipede I believe. Puerto Rico. Obviously this is about Rael. Lamb’s Rael.”

“What is Real?” Hucka Doobie repeated, and left it at that.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0314, Bogota, collages 2d, End of Time+, Puerto Rico, Silverton