Category Archives: 04

Audrey’s

“She’s a lovely girl, isn’t she?”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Casey One Hole. Coming here. In fact… get out.”

“But you have information I want Furry Karl. I gave you until today. Yesterday, actually. Because it’s 2:01 in the morning now. Did you get the information I want Furry Karl? Not *need*… want.”

“All I know, *bud*, is that it was ’67 when the first reports of the tree arrived. Treestock. Robolution.”

“I don’t know what any of that means, Furry Karl. What I want is for you to spell it out plain and clear about how the walking tree came to these woods. Can you do that? Say, in the next 15 seconds?”

“I just told you what I know. Hey, put that down. I don’t know anything else. I swear!”

CLUNK!

“Happy fucking winter to you too, Furry Karl.”

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Zappa groupie?

“I *know* this person, Biker Mann,” Cyberpaperdoll stated while zooming into a snapshot from the last Sunklands post. “This Anorexia or Annie. It’s Baker’s friend! From the old synching board. Raynbowladirubislyppers.”

“Interesting,” he replied nonchalantly while continuing to stare out the window toward Home Orange and the comings and goings of Jacob I. and Broken Heart. But Biker isn’t my name any longer, Roger Pine Ridge thought to himself. You don’t know who *I* am.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0405, Heterocera, Rubi

private

“Are you coming to bed, baby?” actor/writer/inventor Tom Casey called from across the room.”

“I’m *thinking* about it.”

“Why don’t you think some more about it cuddled up in my big, muscular arms.”

Anorexia huffs and recrosses her arms and legs. “Are those your trophy girls?”

“What?”

“The women beside you on the bed. Your harem or whatever. Is that what I’m to be added to?”

“Oh. *Those* girls. They mean nothing to me, sweets.”

“Why don’t you, I don’t know, put them *face down* on the nightstand, then? If we’re going to go through with this.”

“Listen, Annie, I paid top dollar for this rendezvous. I had to come all the way out to this adult sub-continent to get away from prying eyes. You don’t know the psychotic depths of my ex.”

“I think you are motivated by one thing and one thing only.

Have you ever heard the Poodle Lecture?”

“What?” Tom Casey repeated.

“It’s how Zappa explained WO-MAN controlled MAN. It’s why I left the fold. But now I’m summoned back.” She thought back to removing her ruby slippers and rainbow halo at last.

“*I* asked for you.”

“No you didn’t. The Kidd asked for me. She said her daddy was in a heap of trouble and I had to do this to make things right. Had a thing for thin, she said. Something about supermodels.”

“Philip,” Tom Casey explained again to her, “is a simple accountant. Working in a simple stripper club. Nothing more.”

“You’re dreaming if you say that.”

The actor/writer/inventor sat up in the bed and looked her over from the span separating them. “18, you say?”

“Right.” She was wiggling her foot rapidly.

“Cause there’ve been rumors.”

“Rumors started by The Kidd. It makes me look innocent. I’m not, of course.”

“Then come over here. Let’s get started.”

The flames rose rapidly.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0404, Horizons

heavenward

They met in the highest tower of Raven Central.

“I’m glad to see you are adjusting well to Capitol City, Musician,” Lou spoke to begin the serious part of their discussion.

“Musician?” Philip replied, taken aback. “Believe me, I’m no musician. I’m tone deaf!”

“Nevertheless,” continued the pale, tall alien in her level manner, “you are. And it’s time to repay the favor we bestowed upon you.” She then explained how Philip’s metallic stigmata suddenly vanished about 2 weeks back.

“Oh,” he then said, understanding quite a lot more. “Transference, huh?”

“Yes. You were sucked in. It really wasn’t your fault. It is the fault of the designers of telescopes, microscopes, other artificial extensions of the naked eye. We, as a planet, were never suppose to see beyond Uranus.”

“It’s a tricky planet with the naked eye,” Philip replied, unable to resist astronomical trivia in the moment. “You have to know exactly where to look.”

“Right,” Lou said, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand. “About the repayment…”

“I’ll do it,” he quickly followed. “Whatever it is — outside of signing away my soul to The Devil — I’ll be glad to comply. I’m just so happy to be free of all that metal shite after, what, *10* years. 10 years ago that demon Jimmy operated on me, or what he *calls* an operation.” He paused, shook his head, then looked up again. “Transference… just like you said. Whatever you do, don’t confuse a physician with a physicist.”

Lou emits a small, lilting laugh here. “It’s not Jimmy’s fault either, though.” She sits further back in her wicker armchair. “Here’s the deal.”

—–

Later that night, Philip returns to the home which Lou wants him to stay in after his “assignment” in Gaeta V has ended. But, good news, he can take Heidi and her shape shifting ways along for the ride.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0403, Capitol City-, Gaeta V, Muff-Bermingham-

nestings

Philip paused in reading his red book to stare over at the child. “What’re you building, sugar?” He’d become more open in his affections for Heidi Hunt Ives recently; he’d been dreaming about her almost every night. She was fast transforming into his own flesh and blood offspring.

“A portal,” she said mysteriously, still not looking up. “You *do* like to get high… don’t you?”

“High?” Philip coughed. “Nah. That’s more Marion’s bag. Nickle bag, hehe.”

“But…,” she continued while making her sand castle, “… you *do* want to keep him calm and happy. Because he then calms you down. Remember how it was *before*? You were not the nice person that you are now.”

Philip considers again that Marion should have never told the kid about their backgrounds. But she insisted if she was to be part of the group, the *gang*. He remembered his own briefing about the girl. “Shapeshifter,” Marion reinforced. “Can turn old, middle aged, young. She’s even got a dog transmutation… poodle, she claims, although I haven’t seen it up close and in person. Then there’s another one she’s working on, Philip, and this will take the cake. Bug,” Marion says, making him laugh. And now that’s what he keeps calling her in these dreams. My little bug, etc.

Philip decides to walk over to the sand box and take a closer look. It seemed quite detailed from his perspective. She was just finishing up the northeast turret.

“Hana Lei is where it will take us,” she began again. “We thought she was dead but now it’s been found again.”

“What — or who is this Hana Lei?”

“Island,” she speaks, halting her work and looking up at Philip now. *Is* this his child? he wonders, staring into her green eyes.

“Pitch,” she then utters.

“Pitch?”

—–

Pitch Darkly rouses himself. By his side, Mary was staring at him, wide awake already. “You had another dream didn’t you?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0402, Capitol City-, Gaeta V, HANA LEI

beaver cities


Ludendorff, North Yankton (Grand Theft Auto state based on Real Life US state North Dakota)


Beaver (formerly Beaver City), Oklahoma (Real Life US state)

—–

“This looks like a MATCH to me, Philip! Giant BEAVER — holding a Ludendorff WELCOME sign and then a soon-to-be-tossed COW chip! We need to get him back to that shitty YANKTON prison… ASAP!”

—–

Philip Strevor wakes up.

“I’ve got to stop eating all those chocolate chip cookies before hitting the hay.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0401, GTA, Heterocera, Oklahoma, Rubi

Peterstown 02 (Ladd)

Before leaving Middletown yesterday, Karoz briefly stares at the red, blue and yellow newspaper boxes on the very western edge of the city, picking up an eerie resonance.

The next day, Peter Ladd stares at the same boxes with more knowledge.

He then goes over and squarely stands on one of Main Street’s yellow rubber lines, contemplating Treasure Hill just across the bay.

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the ring, and puts it on.

Turning back toward the Middletown skyline, he vows never to remove himself again.

He is Peter from now on.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0416, Jeogeot, Middleton, Xilted

ss

Perspective enlarged, Chuck Cheese finds herself in a strange place again, walking on a spiraling path upwards toward a rocky summit.

“Both of us can’t be women,” uttered Wheeler Wilson at the top. She changed.

“Right you are, Wilson Wheeler,” returned Chuck Cheese. She also changes.

“A pair of suave, swarthy dudes we make, eh?” said Wilson Wheeler.

Earie was thinking about himself: although just as swarthy, not so suave. “I am almost wholly invisible now,” he complains. “I am just an object to be seen right through. You don’t respect me as a person, Improvio. I mean, Pretty Man. I mean: Wilson Wheeler. Whatever.”

“Do you remember?”

“What happened? Yeah. A merger of church and liquor store.” He looks down into the valley to his right.

“We are the Malefic The Kidd spoke about,” continued Wilson. “With sickly, green wings; tucked in the opposite corner of her, um, building. Imprisoned even. Do you feel like you’re in jail? I do.” He indicates his outfit with a gesture. “This suit. The suit of Bowie.”

“Bowie protects you,” counters Earie. “Without Bowie you are nothing here as well. Object.”

“And who are you suppose to be?” he returns sarcastically. “Sid Vicious?”

Earie lays it out as plain as possible. “We are 2/3rds of the punk band Story Room. Banned from Olde Lapara Towne because of the noise, moved to the hidden vilage of Gaston where there was no ban, turned into pretty things there in order to survive, and then confined like flies to its Central Park. Paper.”

“Fly paper, right,” agrees Wilson Wheeler. “We burn to death again every day. Central Park is without dark and always on fire. Core of a volcano.”

“Seed into tree,” Earie continued even more abstractly. He uncrossed his legs. “Atonal punks we are, Wilson Wheeler.”

“Please,” Wilson Wheeler finally countered concerning his name. “If am that you are The Musician.”

He stops thinking about the spot marked with an “X” in the valley below and turns back toward his counterpart. “Then I am Earie…

… and you are Pretty Man.

But I also get to be Chuck.”

“Get yourself a shoulder pet and we’ll talk later,” compromises the suaver swarthy man sitting opposite him.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0415, Gaston+, Heterocera

stood up

Karoz thinks while waiting: *I* need a mask.

20 minutes later, he’d switched over to the booths, trying again to figure out what these crazy typing style animations mean. Only one animation per booth, only one *seat* per booth. Bad designing, he thinks. A place just kind of thrown together. Baker Bloch could do much better here. Kidd Tower is a seed.

So involved was he with his animation that Karoz didn’t notice Old Grey slipping in and sitting at the front counter. “Bucket of blood,” she requests to the lone attendant. “And put some nails in it.” Karoz recognizes the voice.

She never received her drink. This wasn’t a bar. But she and Karoz caught up. They sat at the counter together.

“Baker Blinker is in Collagesity helping Baker Bloch with some apartment rentals,” he said to the old woman in disguise.

“How’s your love life,” Old Grey asked straighforwardly.

“We manage.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m suppose to meet someone, Old Grey. Uncle Babyface. Why are *you* here?”

“I live here,” she said. “In this sim. Kidd Tower… I’m The Kidd. Billie. Here, stand back and I’ll show you. The dress could poof out in the transformation and put someone’s eye out.”

“Okay.” He hops off the chair and takes a couple of steps away from the counter accordingly, not understanding that Old Grey was joking.

“I just thought of the hair,” she said after changing. Grey to black. Young Black, hehe.”

“It’s quite appealing,” encouraged Karoz Blogger.

“If you were a boy of 10, would you ask me out for ice cream?”

“Sure.”

“You were never 10,” she joked again. “You were born old. Old and green. Old Green.”

“Just because I never had a mother doesn’t mean I wasn’t born.”

“Immaculate,” whispered The Kidd. She turned toward Karoz and looked at him squarely. “Jesus. You’re Jesus.”

But Karoz didn’t know that name and told her so.

The Kidd tested him further. “Do you know Superman? Aquaman?”

“Of course,” replied Karoz.

“Green Lantern?”

Karoz whirled around and looked at the poster behind him. “Obviously,” he said while staring at the superhero’s mask again.

“Then you are like the Green Lantern,” cooed The Kidd. She clapped her hands rapidly together and squealed in excitement. “And with a ring!”

Karoz didn’t get a mask that day but he got something else even better — from The Kidd. She just pulled it out of a secret pocket on her babydoll dress. The ring wasn’t exactly legit Green Lantern style but he thought it quite cool anyway and wore it home to Chilbo. Later that night, the town’s giant central tree caught on fire and burned to the ground. It would take weeks to grow another one.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0414, Jeogeot, Middleton

downstairs 02

She was looking at the blog again. She always seemed to be doing this. Mr. Babyface wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

“I see you’ve been dreaming about lava once more,” The Kidd began. “Do you know who I am yet? Northeast and southwest. Around the building. I’ll pull up another picture to show you. Give me a moment.”

While waiting for The Kidd to change the page, Mr. Babyface looked around the corner to check if his toilet was still gone. It was. “Have to use the sand again,” he complained softly.

“Done,” she then called. “Come in here and look and I’ll interpret. This Mr. Hucka Bumblebee did a good job before but he left some material out. Can you guess? You try first.”

Mr. Babyface stared at the picture which he knew to be a baker b. collage. He’d seen it in the small gallery above the Bodega Marketplace. Ointment, he thinks again. Must — remember.

“Go ahead,” she urged. “The title is ‘Duncanfollower.'”

“Yes, I can see that,” he said, slightly annoyed. He felt she could be condescending at times. I suppose she can’t help it, he then retracts. She’s not really all that human. Hu-man.

“Try,” she repeats.

Mr. Babyface plunged in. “Let’s see, there’s Woody Allen in the middle…”

“Oh for Pete’s sake. That’s not Woody Allen. Let me go ahead and do it. It’s *Woody*, then *Allen*. Raziel — Rael — is standing behind… purple robe. Purple rose. All this is positive, exposed — third eye stuff; fourth wall. Northwest. But *behind* the square building, and it’s a perfectly square building, is what The Bee called the Malefic. That’s me as well. Positive and negative. They’re in everybody that way. You included, Uncle Babyface.”

Why does she call me uncle? he ponders again. He sees a safe avenue. “I like the way that Duncan fellow is wearing the same black outfit as Woody… Woody *and* Allen.”

“Good,” The Kidd emboldens.

“Same reverse numbers,” he observes. “Well, not the same numbers but reversed nonetheless.”

“Nonetheless,” repeats The Kidd. “I would have used notwithstanding there.”

Whatever, Mr. Babyface thinks, getting slightly irritated again. He falls silent for a bit, hoping she’ll pick up the thread now. He knows she’d have trouble seeing the details of the collage. And she can’t get up from her chair, else all of this would cease to exist.

She leans forward. “This building is me and that’s all I can say about it today. Tomorrow may be different. You should explore the small city now. Leave me to my musings. Another visitor awaits this morning. And Greg Ogden is already down at the docks starting another painting of Treasure Hill. They found a diamond there, you know. Olden days. Largest diamond ever discovered on the continent. Peter knows.”

“Who’s Peter?” queries Mr. Babyface.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0413, Jeogeot, Middleton, VHC City