Category Archives: 04

November 9, 2017 · 8:35 am

upstairs 02

Mr. Babyface was having that dream again about being submerged in lava. He wakes up.

Upside down again, he thinks. Better get some coffee on.

He pauses on his way to the tiny kitchen to reflect again on lava.

“Ichelus,” he mutters, and moves on.

—–

Ahh. Better, he thinks, downing a fresh brew. His nipples hurt this morning for some reason. He’ll buy some of that ointment at the store later on his aunt recommended. She had the same kind of problem, but in a larger way.

He stares out the mostly transparent wall at the many windowed building just beyond. Definitely not Collagesity this morning, he ruminates. The Kidd will be there. Can’t get too caffeined up before chatting with the precocious child. Third eye she has, he remembers. All seeing most likely, like the one that use to be in Collagesity. Mr. Babyface can’t quite recall the name of the broken deity, a mere idol these days at best. Kazzkark he thinks incorrectly, but for a reason.

Nothing upstairs now. He’ll make some beans later on. Will The Kidd fulfill her promise and bring the rest of her tower to what he knows now is truly Middletown? He thinks that would be cool.

He sets his coffee cup down on the table beside Big E and heads downstairs.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0412, Jeogeot, Middleton

Tagged as Mr. Babyface^*++

November 9, 2017 · 7:43 am

Peterstown

“Golf course. Par three. Hole in one. 1967. (pause) 28064212. (pause) LOST.”

“Bozo,” I said. “Boz*oo*.”

“Nepotism,” he followed quickly. “Nephew. New.”

“But not you.”

Richard vanished. Another took his place.

“Nephew?”

“To some. To a few,” the young man said.

“Is your name Peter?”

“To most. To a lot.”

“Are you well known?”

“I. Am.”

“Why do you keep flashing my name above your head.”

“*You* are well known.”

“Hmm. What are you doing here? In this palace?”

“It’s a hotel,” Peter replied. “Can you read?”

“… the land description, yes. (longer pause) So it’s *real*.”

“Kind of,” he said. Peter sat up, exposing less white legs beneath sinking bathing trunks. He was quite sun baked. From Hawaii he was.

“Why do you receive favors?” I continued.

“From Uncle Babyface?” he returned, already knowing my answer. “It’s a nephew thing.”

“I know that. Why are you here? What is your relationship to The Kidd over in Middletown, just across the strait from here? Your uncle can see your place…”

“*My* place?” he questioned, then was gone.

I took off my hat and scratched my head.

I sat there for a long time afterwards reading a book about squirrels.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0411, Jeogeot, Middleton, Xilted

Tagged as Baker Bloch^*++@, HAT REMOVAL, Peter Ladd^*++, Rabbits 01 02^^^*$, Richard^*

November 8, 2017 · 9:19 am

kiss

The last of town’s apple trees would have to be moved, along with the last amphibian (Brazilian Bill).

Richard and Paula too.

The town Rodeo could be slid over to the old Appalachian Spring. For Billie was coming.

Baker Bloch was aiming for a 2 week stay but it might be longer, Gods willing. Mr. Babyface had already come from across the sea. Greg Ogden as well. How about the upper 8 floors beyond the 4 inhabited ones? Kidd Tower has a fairly long history in Collagesity and, before that, VWX Town. It had its beginnings in the Sikkima sinkhole — late 2012 or early 2013. Buildings also remember their history. And now one has come alive as a flesh and blood creature. We’ve lost Terry, true, but another fills his footprint. Not a man, not even a big boy. Not even a boy.

Royal Princess.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0410, Jeogeot, Middleton

Tagged as Billie Jean Kidd/ Heidi Hunt Ives^^+, Brazilian Bill^^^*, Paula, Rabbits 01 02^^^*$, Richard^*

November 8, 2017 · 8:28 am

kill

Mr. Babyface wasn’t much of a swimmer, much less a diver. But he figured he had to give it a go since the board was here in — wherever this is. Little Chicago? Middletown even? Or a remnant thereof.

The beach of the city was small but cozy. Mr. Babyface could sometimes spy passing warships in the distance. Because, yes, there was a war going on. Apparently the Axis and Allied powers of WWII never really made peace, but just moved their battles to computer games and virtual realities. He may get involved in the fray as well soon, but he has to choose a side. His grandmother was a full blown German, but his old dog Pogo he loved so much came from Kansas, USA. Mr. Babyface himself hailed from deepest Africa; neutral territory in the Great War. His half aunt on his father’s side was Japanese. Could go either way.

The Shamon Palace, he thought while looking across the water and cleaning nacho fragments from between his teeth with his tongue. He’ll go there tomorrow. Someone to meet in the bowels of the island, he’s been told. Caucasian Tommy Brade has been sent back to the woods to be with pals Satan Santa, Cookie the Crumbler, and the rest. Someone new again. Billie Jean Kidd had told him this.

Billie Jean Kidd seemed to know everything about everything.

Deep in thought, he almost misses a passing ship. “Ahh, there’s one,” he says, spotting its motion as it glides beyond the island from his perspective. “Looks like the Rising Sun.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0409, Jeogeot, Middleton, Xilted

Tagged as Billie Jean Kidd/ Heidi Hunt Ives^^+, Mr. Babyface^*++

November 8, 2017 · 2:24 am

Monet Greg

Greg Ogden can’t figure out how to start the painting he wishes to do. It’s all so beautiful as is…

One thing he knows for dead sure is that it *won’t* be a watercolor — oil is his choice of medium. No opening exposed for that Greg with the extra “g” to return to the picture. Stay back in Gaston you old varmit!

Gauging the sun and understanding he can’t delay any longer, he pulls out his tube of Winsor and Newton Permanent Green and gets to work.

The next day he does the same.

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Tagged as Greg Ogden/Gregg Oden^*++$

November 6, 2017 · 7:01 am

golden boy

Mr. Babyface used the sandcastle portal again to reach Zebrasil and the nice beach he liked. This time he brought a guest.

“Better lather up for the sun,” he suggests to Caucasian Tommy Brade while applying yet another layer of suntan lotion himself. “Ozone hole’s not getting any smaller, ya know.”

But Tommy just sat awkwardly in his own beach cot and stared at his throwing hand. “I remember bees,” he finally managed.

“Good,” said Mr. Babyface. “You’re progressing, Tommy. Slowly but surely. Soon the big picture will fill in for ya. The impossible Super Bowl win that year, the role my nephew had in it. Everything.”

Caucasian Tommy Brade then stared directly into the sun for a full 5 minutes, but it didn’t hurt. He was the sun.

—–

Moving to the other side of the island to get away from the heat, Mr. Babyface realizes that Tommy Brade may be no good for him now. He has to hatch a second plan, perhaps even a third. He thinks back to his conversation day before yesterday with Tronesisia. The Boss. “A certain building added,” she said several times. Gazing toward mainland, Mr. Babyface wonders again what it might mean.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0407, Jeogeot, Middleton

Tagged as Caucasian Tommy Brade^*, Mr. Babyface^*++

November 4, 2017 · 8:09 am

mice

Cyberpaperdoll returned to her home of 5 1/2 years across the Atoll Sea and pondered if Biker Mann and she had any kind of real future together.

Oh. Speaking of swings and futures…

—–

“Tommy Brade was always your mother’s favorite, Paul. But you’re not Paul. You’re Even Whiter Walt. Whiter than Caucasian Tommy Brade. You burn in moonlight. You dance to Guy Lombardo. If you were any whiter, you’d turn into a pillar of salt. Believe me, boy, Mary is not the boy for you. She’s not even a boy.”

“I love her,” counters fellow swinger and estranged nephew Paul. “She’s kind to animals. She sings like a butterfly. I’m hanging my future on her. I’m not going back (to the woods).”

“Sure you are. You’re already there. *They* have spies all around. The Invisibles.”

“I don’t know who those people are, Uncle Babyface,” his nephew reiterates. “All I know is that I’m happy here in Be Happy.”

“Hana Lei,” clarifies Mr. Babyface.

“Sure,” states Paul. “There’s *so* much pot here, uncle. Did I show you the biggest one? Just behind us.” He points to his back right.

Indeed it was a big pot. Three stoned little Story Room wannabes staggered around in a bit of snow in front of the whopper. They could be there for months. Years!

So it is with Peter, Paul and Mary in Hana Lei, Mr. Babyface realizes. Months. Years. He returns to Collagesity and drinks with a broken heart at Audrey’s until the clock strikes one and there is no sun.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0406, HANA LEI, Heterocera

Tagged as Cyberpaperdoll^^#&, Duncan Avocado^*+%%&, Even Whiter Walt^*, Mr. Babyface^*++, Paul^*

November 4, 2017 · 7:16 am

New Lynne

It was the most expensive apartment in town, but Biker Mann loved it because of the clear view down Old Cannon Road into the woods. Cyberpaperdoll too!

Because demons were coming.

Caucasian Tommy Brade.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0405, Heterocera, Rubi

Tagged as Caucasian Tommy Brade^*, Cyberpaperdoll^^#&, Roger Pine Ridge/Biker Mann^*++@

November 2, 2017 · 6:34 am

Flies

They were told to stay close to Gaston’s Central Park and act like flies on the wall. Pretty Man disobeyed one morning and wandered down to a side patio beside Sugar’s House, thinking he would be concealed there behind a tall fence. But he was almost immediately spotted by BitterAlmond1995 and propositioned. “Cure for your ails,” she claimed about herself through the intervening walls. Quickly teleporting back to safety, Pretty Man wiped his brow, seeing he wasn’t followed. He was not an alien, true, but what cost for surface beauty? Sugar’s Berries (their slogan: “ripe for pick’n”) stick pretty tight to her house, just like he and his fellow escapees Gregg Oden, Chuck Cheese, and Maury “Jiff” Monroe should keep close to the park, the calm eye center of a storm which contrasts to that eyewall location of greatest sound and fury.

But Sugar herself, being of greater vision and knowing all such storms have such centers, knew why they were there. Her counterpart Jacob I. had escaped in a larger way, with accomplice and experienced jail breaker Tiny Tina trampled under foot. These dudes and dudettes had nowhere to go, like caught in paper.

I will be a fly back at them, she thought the morning of learning about Pretty Man’s intrusion into her territory. They are in my vision and will not leave. I know where they are. There’s a secret parchment, secured by sealing wax, which might allow her control of the *other* “Sugar House” in town, the one now called the Gaston-Berry Police Station. Because there was no Berry to patrol. Berry did not exist except as a concept. This was her secret weapon.

Rolling the dice, she unrolled the parchment.