Category Archives: 0416

Rubys

“Do you like my last painting. This one was successful — not sure about the present one. I call it… “Ship in Disguise.”

Indeed she couldn’t tell if the ship was in the water or in the sky. 1/2 and 1/2.

—–

We will return to this place, but other plot lines must now be followed.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0416, MISTY MO^^

00270416

Kolya also claimed the larger bamboo house at the very center of the sim owned by the same rental company. 128/128, he thought, standing upon it. This will be *my* center as well. I can finally find myself, see who I am. He looks around.

“Shells? No no no no no. I’m through with shells.” Alysha manifested in the chair below the indicated art, helping him out again.

“You need to focus on the *monster*, Kolya. *Can* — you do this?”

Kolya remembers the name friends call him: Can. This was a friend. They, together, were looking for not necessarily a foe but indeed a fiend, removing one important letter from the equation. He(-she) had been here a long long time; Kolya was picking up on that as well. Black Lake. Circle of 4. He knew that the lakes would attract him, tiny to not so tiny. He must make a map.

“You must make a map,” Alysha spoke back, in his head as well but also with her mouth.

—–

He soon determined that this was the Black Lake in question, not the other more rounded water body just to the west. And it was more symbolic than anything. But he was not in his actual form any longer. He had turned into a painter. Oil me up, I suppose.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0416, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^

00260416

“So we’re just going to carve that dead pumpkin and eat it?” asked George, actually missing Duncan’s fish in the moment.

“It’s not dead, young George. It’s a snow pumpkin, a very special kind. It will melt in the spring. Luckily it’s perpetual winter here in the Snowlands of Sansara which we sit on the edge of.

Turning around, George looks out a row of windows facing south. His moral compass remains slightly askew. Snow — as far as the eye can see. Yet when he looks north: gray, with some green and also some beige. Edgeland: that’s what Aunt Clare had decided to name her home — *homes*. Because she had 2. For now. The whole parcel was up for sale on this landmark Fissure Mountain on the border. Just like a certain brain damaged man we’ve met more recently who sometimes goes by Can; prefers that name to the rest, which, in tandem, means he likes to hang around friends because they’re the only ones who call him that. Kolya, some strangers call him, Pepi others. It was war out there. Back to George and Clare.

—–

He tries a piece of white pumpkin just laid on his plate. Ice is all he can taste.

“Good, eh?” says Clare, munching and crunching down on her own.

“Sure, sure,” returns George, trying to sound positive. “Great. I can really taste the pumpkin.”

“Oh there’s no pumpkin in it.” George stares. “I’m just *kidding*, right Bell?” She shakes her other head now held under the table, which maybe indicates it is laughing along with her. They chuckle in tandem, if so, for a small while, then return to eating, or at least the head not on the stick does.

“How’s… Duncan?” she asks at last, broaching a subject laying before them like a deep chasm needing a bridge.

“He’s okay.” Pause. “He stares at tulips now. He says rats are in them.” Another pause. “He… went to Dixie.”

“I know, Bell told me.” Short shaking sound here under the table. “Very surprising. Dixie, well you know their former relationship. I can’t see for the life of me what he sees in her.”

“Then you rung up, or, I mean, Charlie… he dialed the number, all the numbers I guess, or so he says…”

“And you reached me,” Clare finished for George. “Well, tell me more about this Yelloo subject we were talking about before. Sure sounds like a TILE concept to me.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0416, Purden/Snowlands^, Sansara^^

gump in the road

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0416, collages 2d, West Virginia

mates

“One of us will have to go, twin of mine. And *you* are the one sitting sideways. I think it’s you.”

The Wendy who was sitting sideways to the observing camera spoke. “Don’t cross me. You can’t cross me.”

“This is *not* a Jesus situation. Just because we *originally* were in a 0316 post.”

“Before the user Our God realized the mistake. Another mighty cock-up!”

“… is our Lord,” non-sideways sitting Wendy tacked on. But they both were in different ways. “Paper?” one uttered.

“Scissors,” answered the other. She was the one.

On the sealed evergreen island in the middle of snow snow snow, Barry De Boy waited.

And then nodded off.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0416, New Island^, Omega^^, Rose Heaven^^

00230416

Rock climbing at Light of Aurelia and thinking about Lafferty’s Shining People.

In neighboring Hammerhead Light:

“One day I’m going to beat my vertigo, Wendy, and make it all the way to the top of that thing.”

“Sure you are Sandy. And I guess next you’re going to ask me *not* to change into that dress you like currently.”

“I didn’t say that.” But Wendy was right. He’d never make it to the end. Not without some serious help.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0416, Bellisaria^^

sawing noise

“I am glad we finally get to meet face to face, er, Other Sandy.”

“Sure ‘nuf! Have you read the fairy tale book yet. Allll this turns into a big fat pumpkin in the end, or in my case, an acorn!”

“Yes, I picked up a copy of ‘Fairy Tales’ from one of these zzz houses but it then disappeared from my hands after I read that particular page.” Dream selves, Sandy thinks to himself here. Synchronicity in action.

“Yeah, this is where it allll goes down, Mr. Other Sandy.” Southern drawled Sandy Chic with acorn wide cheeks was glad that Sandy Beech didn’t pee in front of her at the lake, although the bear, being less self conscious because of the wild animal thing and all, couldn’t resist. He put down the rod and pulled out his rod, hehe. Wait. She stared over. She was thinking the thoughts of both of ’em. Gosh darn shoot!

“I hear you are from Texas, Sandy Chic,” Sandy Beech speaks over, perhaps unaware of the total synchronicity between them in the moment while looking at maps in his head. “That’s a big state for a, um…”

“Big squirrel? Were you going to say big…”

“I didn’t mean–”

“Hiiiii YA!” Sandy Beech’s head was detached from his body by Sandy Chic’s mighty karate chop across the dining booth. Spongebub would be proud.

Yet Sandy’s bodiless noggin still thought. He realized he had really always been in this form. A talking head.

——

“Annnnnd CUT! That was great, Sandy. BOTH of you! I smell an Emmy the size of TEXAS awaiting us!”

“Umm. Is he alright?” Sandy Chic had assumed the body.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0416, Hana Lei^^

Black D. 02

I am both the contrary motions of male and female in one body,” he spoke over to his brother-lover Rock Ramby, who was sure to go everywhere Little Robert Plant Variant Vain and Artery Boy Gill Alex went. What a lamb. They were on vacation from Misty MO, like last year around this same time. “Always hurricane season for a coastal town,” Gill Alex groused about the location choice again. “Can’t go to the beach. Can’t lay out this gorgeous body on a sun towel for every passing boy and/or girl to ogle at.” He reflexively flexed his blue toned arm muscle with this for Rock. “Hard as *you*,” he added while patting it, making his significant other grin. “Shut up,” he waved Gill off.  He knew he had to take certain kinds of pills now to be a serviceable lover. And Gill Alex liked to rub it in every now and then — when the opening occurred. They were playful and carefree like that. “*This* one,” — he flexed the muscle in his red arm now — “not as strong. Weak. Limp, even.” “Alright, knock it off Gill. Or should I call you… Alex.” Gill Alex shut up, then. He didn’t like his first and last names switched with each other, not one bite. He took another bit of his butterscotch topped doughnut in front of him so he could bite his tongue. He knew he deserved the come back. Then he got over it. Just that quickly. They were… well they were who they were. More Popeyes.

Speaking of which, Rocky Ramby was about to reveal to brother-lover Gill Alex why they were *actually* here.

Tulsa behind them was taking notes all the time.

“Oklahoma,” he started. “Oklahoma, then Olive.”

“Confederation?” expressed Gill Alex reflexively. When was the last time he’d thought about *that*.

They were here for the *eye*.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0416, Black Ice, Jeogeot^^, NWES Island^

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, 0020, 0416, Abbey^^

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, 0019, 0416, Corsica^^, Storybrook^