Not great, not so-so. Good. Better than most of us.
The Tall Walk is temporarily obscured.
He needs to rest for the night.
Category Archives: 0404
Blue Mountain
“It’s *glorious* in here, Col. Bucket.” She splashes some water in happiness. “Come on in!”
“I — can’t get — this *bucket* off,” the smaller person in the 90 room complains, yanking with all her might.
“Oh come in anyway. It’ll get a little soggy — so what? It’ll fall off naturally then.” Blue Feather was adamant. Col. Bucket must join her!
“You don’t understand, Blue Feather. That *is* your name? Right?”
“Yeees. You know my name, Col. We’re related.”
“We are?” Her voice was muffled by the bucket, but still strong and youthful. They were indeed related. “How?”
“You are my cousin.”
“Hmm,” Col. instantly responded, not surprised. “I think everyone is everyone else’s cousin to some degree — I — I — read that.” She remembers her primary task and begins yanking again. The bucket must come off! She must see straight once more!
“Here.” Blue Feather rises out of the water, but becomes instantly dry. She goes over, and in another instant, removes the bucket easily from the Col.’s head.
But, trouble is, the Col. disappears with the action. We’ll see her again soon, though.
Blue Feather cusses, complaining that she’s lost another one.
She leans down and begins to fill up the bucket again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0404, 100 Story Building-, Blue Mountain, Kowloon+, Red Hill
redtop
She was having that dream where she was looking everywhere for the correct script. Under the coke machine? Not there.
Heading down from here.
Sewers, eww! The underbelly of society itself. The discarded, the disorganized. They can go to Sh-t Hell for all she cares. Up again.
And up again.
Doors open. Her mother giving birth to her. Top of the head appears. No red hair atall. She quickly hits close.
She was looking for her father to speak to him in heaven, for surely that’s where he is. Being a martyr to the cause and all. But there was no door to heaven on this elevator. Only the red place.
She had missed the portal. At the end of the sewer where you have to wade through the most sh-t to get to. The highest is found in the lowest.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0404, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, NWES Island
All Hail the Pumpkin King?
Center. 128/128: Rhodenwald. Roads Rhoads Rhodes. LIVES (2nd and 1st). Black Man… Men. Central Pumpkin.
“Pipersville,” Hucka Doobie chipped in.
“Pipersville,” Baker Bloch reinforced from the corner.
greener pastures 03
Bland Street now, thinks Craighead Phillips Option 02 while walking past an auto repair shop. Not Bland Road any more. But what’s wrong with that sign? All squiggly and stuff. Melted somehow? Better keep walking and not linger, though. It is what it is. Crazy world over here.
I have no reflection! he suddenly realized. Not real in this realm. But somehow: still real. He keeps moving forward.
He decides to ask someone else to check the first source. “Excuse me, sir? Am I on the right street to get to the center of town?”
“Stay away from me,” the man getting in his car barked. “No cash. No cash!”
Craighead Phillips Option 02 wisely moves on without an answer.
—–
I’m not even going to ask this woman where I am, he thinks. I can tell by the look in her eyes she’s not going to help, pheh. Stupid world.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0014, 0404, Maebaleia/Satori, West Virginia
redtop
“So tell me about this Treelor of yours,” Allen Y. requested, a bit of bitterness mixed in with his phrasing.
“He’s nice,” Jennifer M. Friend responded with her usual, confident voice. “He’s innocent. He’s… Tropp, actually. I always forget that too. *I’m* Treelor.” She pauses a beat. “In another life.”
Silence for a spell. They look over at the pirate ship, looming huge before the horizon. The glare of Allen’s facelight was bothering Jennifer. She politely asked him to turn it off. Or down.
“I don’t know how to turn it down. I’ll just detach it.” Now he can’t see her beautiful face as clearly, he thought. Oh well, the setting sun casts it in a different, if less visible light. All angles and shades are good for her. I believe I’m falling in love. He was preparing to give her flowers. One of a line of gifts stretching into the future he has in mind. Leading to…
“Tropp’s great, really,” spoke Jennifer again, breaking the spell.
Tropp, sulked Allen Y. He must be eliminated. But they seem to have quite a long history together now.
He’s heard of… assimilations. Maybe that will be the ticket.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0013, 0404, 0405, Misty Mo+
on the wall
“Watcha checking out on those interwebs little lady?”
“A car,” Wheeler/Jennifer stated plainly. “I’m going to buy one when I get back.”
“Back from where?” asked puzzled Norm, a local resident. “I know of the Before and the After. But there is no Other. There is only Here.”
Great, another MISTY MO religious nut, Jennifer thought. “My home is in Collagesity. On the Atoll continent. Heterocera. Surely you know your continents. Did you not take geography in the schools you went to?” She looked over at him, noticed the rivets in his forehead, his hands. Mechanoid, ahh. That could explain it. He is programmed to know no other place but here.
“I took high school in geography. Does that count?”
Wheeler Jennifer pondered what could be a riddle. Story within story again. “Maybe,” she decided to answer.
He continued his information. “Before is the establishment of Fairview Alpha. Sometimes it is called the Big Mess. Too messy. Water everywhere. So many trees and plants and bushes. Clutter, if you will. After is Fairview and Alpha separate, as they should be. One in one place and the other in another. This is also known as the Plane of Martin and the Plain o’ Allen. Fairview is a fair view of the world, as it is, plain and uncluttered. The great bird flies in the sky but always lands here. Here is here. There is no Other, except for the Abyss.”
Jennifer took in the strange, new information. She shut the laptop, put away the visions of a speedy, glossy auto for now to concentrate. “I came here on a plane,” she said, thinking back to the one that landed on the edge of the Rubi Woods, the plane specifically sent by MISTY MO Inc. to take her to their homeland. Far far away from mainland madness, one flight attendant said of it. Brainwashed, she concluded. They’re all brainwashed into thinking this MISTY MO is somehow separate from the rest of Our Second Lyfe. Better, she concluded. Much better — some place *new*. Could this be?… no, she must put away thoughts of ever finding Ultima Thule. She spent the better part of her 20s and 30s looking into that black hole of an idea. The idea that she could purge herself of her demonic origins, pheh. No such luck. But still, there was the recent vision of the Demo Lake. She decided to ask about it — maybe Norm would know something. But in a roundabout way…
“Plane of Martin — that’s the plane.”
“Yes,” stated Norm. The sun was setting, the glints on his metal constituents fading. Was it safe here with this mechanoid being, Jennifer thought? She decided it was. The lodge brochure said no crime had ever been committed in modern MISTY MO. At least after the wide scale manufacturing of clothes.
“And this… Plain of Allen.”
“Plain *o’* Allen,” Norm clarified, pointing at Jennifer at the same time. “Like a possum.”
Hmm, Jennifer thought. I think his name might be Bob instead.
“What did you say your name was?” she tested. “Norm, right?”
Norm didn’t answer directly. “We better get you back to your lodge and me back to my lake. The night is full of owls and beaks that speaks. The Abyss returns.”
“Lake? You live in a lake?”
“Next to a lake,” Norm answered.
Jennifer didn’t have to ask *its* name. She knew it was Black. Where the demons lived.
—–
Jennifer woke up, the sound of falling water swiftly returned. Midday. No Norm, no nobody. She had fallen asleep while daydreaming of fast, shiny objects. But the dream was like reality. She then realized there were much fewer trees and undergrowth in the “place” she had just been with Norm… Bob, Norm. And no water. *Was* it a dream?
She opened the laptop again and set the screen on mirror, held it up to her face, noted the DEMO stigmata again on her own forehead. 7610: DEMO.
Yes, it was a dream. A *reflection*.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0013, 0404, Misty Mo+
Pitaya
She had been living on the Aloha houseboat for over 3 1/2 years now. She’d had plenty of time to contemplate her life as Witch Hazel in the past, and, moving forward, well… something good instead of bad she’ll be the next time at bat. Fruity bat.
Right now, she occupies a position between good and evil — red and blue. Purgatory, in effect. But she’s grown use to her schizoid nature. Soon enough it will end for Parasol and she’ll become someone else.
Sam Bee is a key; Trojan-Durexian War, etc. Sting operation. She knows that from Ruby Fantasie’s Middletown US of A investigations, which are ongoing.
In the other room of the boat, Charlie Banana wakes up and needs a drink. Yes, “between” she is indeed currently. But all split things must end.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0404, Fruity Islands
Gaston
“This use to be Chroma’s house, you know.”
“Don’t say.”
“Greg, that is. Ogden. Not the odious Oden fellow.”
“Green, yeah.” She pretend spits on the floor beside the couch. “Disgusting. Red, yellow and blue’s where it’s at.”
“‘Hidden Vilage.'”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0404, Gaston+
another substitute
“Incendio!!!”
—–
“You know that wasn’t really Lisa the Vegetarian Smipson you burned alive at the stake back there. Just someone else — yellow.”
“I know. Still felt good.”
“The things I do for mere burgers, pheh.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0404, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island
Sunklands 