Category Archives: 0416

1921

“I wanted to show you this underwater gallery, Barry, to demonstrate that Paperville has gone through many changes, some resulting in the disappearance of the village altogether, at least for a while. The important thing is that the concept carries on. And this same thing should happen to Collagesity. I’m sorry. I cannot allow you to stay. You of course can take Poetry back with you. You have to find her sister for one thing. Please keep up; we’re nearing the end of this section of our journey.”

—–

“You can look and you can look but you won’t find your sister in these series of pictures, Poetry. Axis, the New God of Paperville after all, said she hasn’t been here in a while — ran off with a fellow named Biker several years back now. Went to a place on the mainland called Iris, like an eye. And she was searching for an ‘I’. It went missing in a jumble of tiles numbering 25 down from 26. Now we are on a similar journey, Axis states. A search for center.”


missing “I”

“But we’re *in* the center (sim),” a disappointed, sad Poetry countered Barry, still peering at the people, still searching. That *could* be her in the far back with the white robe, she thinks, eyes squinting in an attempt to focus. Axis, although a New Near God, might not know *everything*. There’s always the 5 percent chance out of 10 that marks it down to 9.5. He has a Diamond of a mind now thanks to Cat-Witch, a true return of David A.B. to his perch at the center of it all. To him…

“Margret,” he prompts, interrupting her reverie and saying her real name for the 1st time in a while. She knows she must pull out of the past…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0416, Abbey^^, Corsica^^, Stranger Creek

end (of section)

end (of section)

After the body was found (by Mann’s Dogg), the funeral held (1st funeral after quarantine lifted (!), but still 6 feet apart for grieving parishioners), and the investigation wrapped up by Tank Ferguson’s team down at the station, TronAxis, now Peter again (Peter Esso, or, really, Peter Osseo if I can figure out how to transform the Esso t-shirt easily (see former Esso poster turned Osseo poster back at the purple Marz house in Tyranea)), stands before Gene Kelley’s old place, the town’s Mr. Fix It now 6 feet down in the ground itself over at Storybrook Memorial Cemeteries just off Little Miss Muffet Highway in Slabtown — a kind of permanent quarantine if you will. He’s saved enough money from recent criminal activity to buy, which he does shortly after the dirt is padded down nice and hard atop Gene’s grave. Greasy hands will be the order of the day for many to come. Wife Venus Flytrap (Wheeler in disguise once again) will have her hair slowly turn from blue-green to blue-black to black itself in following months because of the touching, the fondling. For Axis truly loves his sometimes on sometimes off wife, still running from the law like a virtual Bonnie and Clyde but always ending up on their feet. The lucky aspect this time is an inept police department led by a man controlled by his hips and not his head, just like his father before him — Jeep or something, Axis thinks here in his ruminations of victory. The gas station will be a perfect headquarters/front for further criminal activity.

He didn’t murder Gene Kelley/Mr. Fix It himself, but the death was handy for him nonetheless. He and Venus will be staying in Storybrook now for a while. But those pumps will have to be replaced, he thinks while staring over.

Peter’s Garage is born, selling fine Esso Osseo gasoline.

He goes over to the town jail to thank former photography and calligraphy teacher Tom Banks once again.


“Think nothing of it.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0416, Corsica^^, Storybrook

bar downstairs

Jeffrie Phillips had come to the end of the book. Arthur Kill eyed him keenly from the piano which he had no ability to play. His music was death. Death to Big Black Smoke, death to Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child, death to perhaps Jeffrie Phillips too. If he so chooses. The eyeing continues.

“Well… what did you think?” asks Marty from a nearby stool about the tome detailing the history of the bar and Urqhart in general. Spanking new girlfriend Linda Halsey, fresh from a broken relationship down in Adgatetown on the lower coast, was by his side, holding his arm even preoccupied with her own thoughts at the moment. I wonder how David Newton Jasper is doing, alone with his Chalcedony and other progressive math rock albums? Fine, she then thinks, imagining him playing air guitar again. How many times? She had to leave (like all the others), looks be damned.

Jeffrie Phillips decides to answer Marty since Linda’s internal monologue seemed to be over. “It was… interesting.”

“Do you understand now why we have to eliminate ‘Love Peace’, eliminate the smoke screen that was the Summer of Love, ’66 or ’67 take your pick? There is no Love. There is no Peace. This must be *revealed*.”

Arthur Kill nods agreeably from the dormant piano. This is why he sticks with Marty. Through thick and thin, the cynicism always shines through. It attracts him like a dim moth to bright light. I think of the bug again here…

Jeffrie stares out the dappled window beyond the bikes in the parking lot into the heart of the Indian Lake/Sox Pond basin. Started right here in this bar, eh? 1919 huh — double 19’s. Scandal. Black. Indian… red. White.

Phillips rezzes a local, vanilla style paper without any red atall to take his mind off the quandary, which gives Arthur Kill his cue (*pop*!). Our story must continue elsewhere.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0416, Corsica^^, Urqhart

hidden

But something still doesn’t add up. Or multiply. We have another on the rooftops quite near the Bird — staring at it even — leaf umbrella in hand shielding his *head*, if not necessarily the rest of his body, from the localized rain surrounding the whale directly above him.

He has a different tattoo on it than Fish Head, but, otherwise, the same body it seems. A bird instead? Dry instead of wet?

And, to be specific, the rotating Bird he’s peering toward only has the head of such. The (white) body is instead that of a female human, outstretched arms sort of giving the appearance of wings.

If only I could translate the native languages better inworld, Chinese and Japanese. Because both are used here.

Maybe a trick to understanding all this is start seeing through walls. For example, we find a mysterious *hole* using this method directly below Fish Head’s bar on the ground level.

Where does this lead us?

Underwater, it turns out. A more realistic abode for, let’s say, a fish.


“You’re not going to be able to figure it out.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0416, 100 Story Building, Kowloon

crescendo

Fast forward to 8 months later…

“Bogart and Bergman again? Aww, Ruby Dharmaraksa. What are we doing here in this sim?”

“*You agreed to the situation as well,” she snapped back.

“Oh yeah, what — what are you going to do? Throw another *pot* at my head. The last one didn’t draw enough blood?”

“Ruby D. begins to cry. Marcus Fox Smartville caves and calms down. Little footsteps could be heard running around upstairs, directly above where they were sitting. “You better, *sniff*, go check on them again. If (she wipes her face with her hand)… you don’t mind. I don’t want them to see me this way, all red eyed and runny nosed.”

“Okay, sure. Just don’t get this way.”

“It didn’t, *sniff*, use to be like this.”

“I know. Things change.” He reaches over and pats her hand now. “Circumstances change. We have so much more responsibility now. The roses aren’t the only thing we have to take care of these days.” Marcus Fox Smartville thought back to the day when her rose changed. They weren’t the perfect match any longer. Ahh, the halcyon days. The XOXO times. When is there time for that now? Hardly ever.

—–

“How are they doing, Gus?”

“Oh, you know. Little demons as usual.”

“2 hours until lunch. Just try to keep them *slightly* under control till then. As long as they don’t burn down the house again, or set the neighbor’s on fire.”

“Again,” Gus the caretaker tacked on. He looked over at Marcus with this. They couldn’t help share a mischievous smile; both loved these little devils. More than Ruby D. More than the neighbors, obviously. More than, well, the town as a whole. But everyone knew they had to put up with them in the meantime. Jer Left Horn and his brother Benny Right Horn were scouting for a place to put them and selected Gregson, according to their father’s wishes. His *spawn*.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0416, Gregson, Maebaleia/Satori^^

THIS SIM 07

“I thought you said I didn’t have a reflection, Bettie, and that I’m not real in this world.”

Bettie looks over. “It’s some kind of trick,” she replied after studying the situation while not moving from her own position. She’d been turning a lamp on and off while standing just outside its lighted circle. “You must have touched something and triggered it.”

“I must have sat on it.”

“There ya go.”

“Rowan is a strange sim,” Buster replied back to his fellow tiny wife. “There’s a man named Bean in the Real World who is also a Rowan — Atkinson I believe. A flattie version of him exists in Collagesity, um, *7 Stones*. Runs the library there. I should check out the 7 Stones library soon. See if anything is different from the Collagesity one.”

“You know we don’t have time for that. Between schooling and scouting there’s no room!”

“We can make room. The Room.”

“Hmm.”

“Let’s go (speaking of time). There’s a limit to how long prims will stay rezzed here anyway. This can’t be a base for studying the hills.”

“You already know where the base is,” Bettie replied. “Professor Suckaluck set it up all those years ago.”

“I know I know. I’m just scouting around the area to make sure. We *are* scouts these days.”

“For about 2 days more, yes. Then it’s return to Long Drive and create reports and then get back to studying studying studying. End of the 1st summer semester fast approaching. Soon June will slide into Juli and we’ll be eating hot dogs and groatcakes down at the 4th of Juli celebrations over in X-Town.”

Ever wonder what the X stood for? he wanted to reply, but realized they had no more time for dialog here.

Goodbye THIS SIM.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0416, Hills of Bill^, Maebaleia/Satori^^

no return

“Schweet. A black hole. I found one!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0416, Lower Austra, Nautilus^^

more Picton pics

https://www.iceboxpec.org/visit/

Muffled voice from within: “Is it spring yet?”

“Just kidd’n. I’m over here now. But what happened to Yellow’s?”

https://www.theye11ow.com/blank-pvj6y

“Ahh so. Ye11ow’s. 11 instead of ‘ll’.”

“And only 200 meters away as the crowbird flies…

… but still hidden, hmmmm.”

“Hold on. What’s that over there? Just at the end of the street?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0416, Canada

prelude

“Shouldn’t you be telling the police about a missing person case? I’m just a lawyer.”

“I didn’t know who to turn to,” Paul confessed. “Are you sure you don’t want a beer, Teebestia?”

“Teeb, please,” she admonished lightly. “No, not while on the clock, thank you.”

“I don’t know,” Paul continued. “You seemed like an honest person. (With a) good heart.”

“I appreciate that.”

Paul didn’t look over at her while talking. “I’m afraid Mary… went home. Broken heart. It was just after talking about Little One that it happened. Poof… gone.”

“Little One being the last lamb of Grassland.” Teebestia scratched the back of her head. “Tell me more about your Mary if you will.”

“We met in school. Bennington. She was a dancer, I was a stand up comedian. She was into animal rights even then, her and Peter together. That’s how Lamb was created. Broadway.”

“Lamb is the same as Broadway,” Teebestia attempted to clarify.

“Yes,” affirmed Paul.

Teebestia put both hands gently on the counter, just saying what she had to say at this point. “How did *you* get here, then? And how and why do you change *races*?” She thought back to yesterday, when she witnessed the conversion up close and personal. Right as they crossed the line from Astarte into Lapara.

Paul couldn’t reveal what he really wanted to here, the Big One. So he invited her to Owls Head as a substitute. That way they could also look for Mary, if by chance she was still around the underground somewhere. They shot down the newly relocated Rabbit Hole.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, ., 0416, Heterocera^^, Lapara^