Category Archives: 0414


Good fishing in Black Lake, she’d always heard. At least before the Big Split, as some people ’round these parts call it.

Why was Ruby here? I thought she was heading to Wally in Wallytown, I can hear the reader express. Confusing enough! But we decided to place her here in Newt, in Annaberg taking up the whole sim of Newt, because the wall had been sort of torn down in Wallytown, formerly interior trees exposed to the harsh light of reality, spirits within perhaps removed to some more spiritual plane of existence. The Wall has been demystified, and the town had changed along with it. No more California over there, Nevada over here. No more Green Monsters to worry about, stashed away in a dark inside ready to pounce on unsuspected passerbys. All that was in the past. Capitalism, the worrying about bits and baubles, was front and center now. So Ruby felt the place worthless to her and her own peculiar dilemmas and issues and moved on. Black vs. Clear represented a more updated version of all that. So we slotted her into the Newt history, which is kind of overlapped with Osse-motor’s history now, thanks to Jimmy Dieselengine, or so she understood. Help me! I heard Ruby cry. Help us! I cried in turn. Bring your ice cream outfit and ice cream eyes over here! Set yourself down at a convenient place, use your observing eyes to *see*.

Fisher Island’s Wallytown with now exposed trees

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, Sunklands^, Jeogeot, Wallytown/Fishers Island^, Omega^^, 0414, 0038

00370414 (party 14)

At 1 AM all the important people at the party gathered around Penny and Sandy at Terrace #2. They made sure Edward was as much at the center of it all as possible.

“Edward,” said Penny over to the sprawled out model of a dude across from her, “you start. We’re going to play a game.”

“The game of life,” Sandy sitting behind Edward continued for Penny. “3 things that you’re most proud of. Then 3 things you aren’t, or have the most regrets about. The others have to guess if you’re telling the truth or not. Go ahead, Edward. You’re the most important.” Everyone had a polite giggle, since they knew this was truth. It was all about him. It wasn’t his birthday, but that might have made the day even more special. A celebration of the man just for the man himself, without any reason, any rhyme. Like a thunderstorm popping up on a clear afternoon. Out of the blue, they decided together last week. Invite *everyone*.

“Even Old Man Sand next door?” spoke Penny using his old man nickname, wanting to clarify the list even at this very early date. “Your parents would.”

“My parents are *dead*,” said Sandy to this. “Or else… visiting relatives back in Pennsylvaniaboro. Yeah, that’s better.”

“Thought so,” replied adopted sister Penny, knowing her parents were on too much wellness medicine to be sick, much less dead. They could afford it — why not protect themselves. If their girls have to go to a mid-level college like New Hampshireville State Institute of Klubs instead of top notch Crabwoo because of the cost then so be it. Plus they weren’t a big fan of woo woo, except for the medicine, it seems. Elderberry laced with Vitamin C and Zinc night and day. Poke them and they might bleed a little purple. Dark bleeders we could call them.

“*Anyway*, we can play the game of life; learn more about our mutually desired boyfriend.”

“He’s soo secretive!” said Penny to this. She knew Crabwoo held many secrets. And Edward, or so he said, was a star pupil back in the day. He’s in his early 30s now. Let’s see exactly how much he remembers of the magic.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0037, 0414, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Wild West


Geez that gray woman has been out there quite a while, Shelley thinks, having woken up in a strange camper in the sim above Mortons Gap but then recalling the story.  She could hear the crashing of the waves when she stirred, a reassuring sound. Arthur must be around. They were just too tired to walk all the way back to the hotel after visiting the Ant Castle up on the mountain, quite a climb to get to. So they just bunked down here as the sun set into the ocean, just to do something different, they agreed. “No one around,” spoke her newlywed husband. “Why not,” she replied. But that gray person… actual owner? Telling me I’m intruding on her property? Could just ask, she thought as she took another sip of coffee and continued reading the article she started, it seemed, a 1/2 hour ago. Ooo, she thought. Just there. The woman took on appearance; just for a second. Yes, staring right at me, it seems (!). Better gather up Arthur and head back to the hotel. Probably down on the beach.


He comes here often and just sits and listens. “Getz/Gilberto” always seems to be spinning on the turntable, the record that started it all for bossa nova, as he learned. Steely eyed Luther stirs the patriotic soup slowly and deliberately, like an automaton instead of an actual person. ‘Nother “gray” being. And what has Clifton Mahoney got on the docket today? Well — beach. Just like Shelley and Arthur. Coming up is a collision course of information that would change everyone’s world. The Ant Castle was not what it seemed (!).


Barry down at the pier would be involved too. Because after 8 straight days of angling it was about time to head home. Art studio. Just below the castle. Barry’d seen and heard things there he didn’t want to dwell upon, didn’t want to be in such close proximity to. Thus the trip into town, to the beach, to the pier. Sanity in contrast. Warm sense of people around. F-ing cold in the gray granite mountains above Mortons Gap this time of year, but not necessarily that kind of cold. Remote kind of cold, the worst type. Barry liked privacy when he painted but enough was enough. But, also, he couldn’t stay away forever, had to face the devil sometime.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0414, Corsica, Northwest^


“I’m telling you, Kurt, we’ve gone too far with this horse shit.” She looks back. “A *tail*?”

Softly, offstage: “We have to make it realistic.”

“What’s that, Hybrid?” Janet Zzyzx’s new nickman for Kurt Strawb was Hybrid, because of the whole fruit-vegetable thing he’s got going on.

Less softly, less offstage: “I said, it’s the White Horse Inn and Bar, or so it says in the new script. We’re setting a scene (to use one of her favorite phrases, he thinks).”

“I look like a *showgirl*. *No*. Make that a *show horse*.”

Kurt: “Debbie (wardrobe manager) put a lot of work into these costumes. And this way we leave the door open for a Black Horse Bar and Inn, an opposite. It has to be this way, Janet. We can talk offstage more if you wish.”

“No no. No no. I don’t want to hold up production again.” Janet Zzyzx felt she was acquiring a reputation for being difficult, a no no in the film industry. You have to be there, you have to say your lines, you have to *show* up. In this case she has to show up as a “show horse.” She bends her head and says nay to her inner doubts. Kurt probably knows best. After all, he has a way with animals as demonstrated by “Black Jack in Hell,” about its only redeeming quality. The hounds of such turned out to be very obedient beasts thanks to his training and influence, working well in every scene. Contrast this to contemporary Tim Spellwell’s “Tortures of Satan” which had the Hades dogs running amok and even attacking the cast and crew. He never even made it to freshman class, film directing career almost literally going up in flames with that one. *Show* a little respect to Hybrid, Janet thought here. At least he had “Studio 342” under his belt, perhaps representing a one hit wonder but maybe not. The critics will reassess after this one; they always do.

“Okay, send in the first loser,” Janet requests, and then starts to get into character. Lichen Roosevelt, Lichen Roosevelt, she says in her mind. Not the first bar, not the last. She’s a bar hopper but not the way you typically think of the term. She’s *experienced*, and she answers to Fern, despite being better at comedy, which is saying a lot, especially in her mind. Could Fern be a successful opening act for the Comedy Pouch in Possum Ridge, Arkansas? She thinks not.

“Alright, is everyone *ready*?” Now he speaks up, Janet thinks. Darn — out of character again.

“Aaaaaaaaand ACTION.”


“Biff?” she repeats his name from the end of Take 42. “Like the detergent?”

“Annnnnnnd CUT.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0414, Hana Lei^^, Sand Springs

row of red 02

“Okay Kenny, slow and easy. We know what animal we’re looking for now.”

“Dog,” Kenny said, repeating the last word of the old, confused man.

And then, just like that — so suddenly — there it was. “There!” Ken screamed almost as loudly as the killed lady in the house did before. Arthur squelched the desire to shoot him on the spot as well. Because he saw something too.

“Back up. I want to make sure.” Ken backed up one click.

“Okay, sloow and eassy — and no screaming this time.” He held one of his weapons to Ken’s head just to make sure. He could drive himself if push came to shove. And it might after this. One click later: still there.

“The bird is *attacking* the dog?” Ken said in as calm a voice as he could muster given the circumstances.

“One click more forward,” Arthur Kill demanded, not yet ready to answer any questions.

“Okay.” Click.

Arthur Kill looked at the spectacle that had moved more toward the back. The bird is far separate from the dog now.

“Indicating,” concluded Kill. “The bird was indicating the dog. We can go home now. But first…” *POP*

The dog replaced the man.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0414, Tennessee

on a line

Silver Surfer, Bikini Woman, and a monkey, watch out!

They’re okay.

I don’t think one or two of ’em got the introductory notecard.


“Is that a toy, Baker B.? I said: no toys.” This is what we get, she thinks. Disobedience of the rules.

Wheeler then realized this could come in handy, as in hands to the sands. She’s going in. She’s going to check out the whole Silver Surfer dealie up front and close, crawl between his legs, etc. She’s going to get down and dirty with the enemy, just like Leany Golden Guy before her way back in 2014 in the basement of my house, other stoopid toys looking on.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0414, Blue Mountain, Hana Lei^^, Toy Avatars

radioactive (041422)

Well, Eric is not standing but the sentiment is definitely there. He’s reconstructed his Delta based blue and yellow tent in the Collagesity library, either skybox or ground, take your choice. Even both or neither if you wish, reader’s option. It could be time to get more of his story. “I’m assuming you’re a man, and not an Erica.”

“Correct,” he says in his dreams to us. Because he only exists on Delta and has those memories during sleep. When he wakes up, POOF. Gone.

“What happened?”

“I ran out of money what can I say. Life’s circumstances. But I got too far out, saw too many things.”

“UFOs?” I guessed.

He looked out his tent toward the New, toward the regulated pine forest across the meadow across the river. What he saw was inside that. We have more information.

Erik wakes up. He later sits at his visiting scholar writing desk watching the tent start to glow in his mind. “Strangest dream,” he mutters to himself. “Something is not right.”

“Who’s that?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0414, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus


Rose Wells’ first Tesseract House, in Diagonal but also Lineville according to other sources. Combined: Diagonal Line(ville). Fitting. Probably called Eyela at the time but perhaps Leela. This started the whole Nautilus continent-US of A hyperlink back in the mid to late 1800s. Marvelous. Fantastic.

Thanks Facebook!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0414, Iowa, Nautilus

A Fleabug’s Life

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0414, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Wild West, Yd Island^


She liked multicoloreds but this was ridiculous.

The attack of the cubes. She knew who was behind it. Thank Gods he wouldn’t be showing back up for months, maybe years.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0414, Bellisaria, Maebaleia/Satori