Category Archives: 0501

Orange you glad to see me?

Okay, she’d finally found something that interested her in the past. A numbers station, broadcasting all the figures. She could call somebody! She first thought of Charlie Banana, an old lover. Good ol’ Charlie. Peach of a guy. But then a Siamese cat suddenly landed on the table from somewhere on high and talked to her instead. Wrong Charlie contacted (mentally). He said she’d missed something in Paperville and that she needed to return. Thinking the cat meant her blue-green shoes, she stated to it she’d already retrieved them, and plopped them on the table in front of him to gander at. As you can see, she’d also bought a matching dress in the meantime to fit in better with the past all around her.

Was it the shoes? the God-like cat thought, still ready to fill a void if need. But now Axis was in control of Paperville. Poetry Dancer here’s brother, or maybe former brother. And then there’s lover Barry X. Vampire. She desires the past, though. Charlie Banana. All the numbers. He better say the shoes were what he was thinking of and take his leave; regroup; try to find another angle (of communication). The past is the past, though. No changing or altering it. That’s why he doesn’t like to go there — here. No malleability; he likes malleability. Change. Flow. The Siamese cat takes its leave.

“I’ll leave you with the other Charlie,” it said/meowed/purred to Poetry. “It’s my mistake; that was the Charlie you desired in the moment. Not me. My bad,” it apologized again, and then wondered if he was overdoing it.

Charlie poofed out. Another Charlie poofed in. All the numbers.

“Hi doll baby.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, Hana Lei^^

Tuscumbia

“So you have blue-green hair now, Wheeler. Blue… green.” She didn’t need to look. She’d seen it all before.

“Yeah. I changed it for Axis. And he changed it for me. He’s got blue-green energy lines all *over* his body now.”

“Axis, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s a Tron thing for him now. ‘Lamb’.”

“Not Tropp? True Opp or whatever he went by?”

“The old boyfriend?” responded Wheeler Wilson/Venus, taking another sip and wiping her mouth again. So refreshing. Water. “Nah. He’s gone back to New Eden I suppose. I — I really don’t know what he’s doing,” she admitted to her old Collagesity friend. And still a friend. Mary’s just a good person like that. Shows up when needed.

“You should keep up with him,” Mary requested, knowing full well deep down that Axis and this Tropp were one and the same. Same body, same head. Same man.

“I suppose I should.” Another sip. Wheeler wonders why this is so delicious. She can’t get enough!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, Hana Lei^^

different

Blue rose embellished Arthur Kill stands in red ones in Joffy and peers at a picture of three, child carrying blue-ish elephants, with the 3rd also rainbow tinted. That’s the one, he thinks from his thorny position. Better get this back to Marty.

Corsica is an… well, you know the story by now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, Ashenlave, Corsica^^, Henrietta

Serenity again

He was just a kooky old Japanese guy on permanent vacation. But at least he brought his slippers to Rose-, er, this *place*, unlike fellow vacationer Donald Farr before him earlier this winter. He’d heard the robot play the 2 “Gouldberg Variations” in a row, a realm favorite thanks to Merry. Bookends they were, and belonged together as one. Now he was ready for Zoidboro’s sermon at the Church of the Fly Lord behind him here. Perhaps he’d meet Peter today. Parasol said he would like him. Another old dude. And spoke a bit of Japanese, even.

—–

“The world is a windshield,” Zoidboro preached through tentacle covered mouth, “waiting to take you out when you least suspect it. Take Little Timmy Flick last week over on Highway 52 behind the old Tastee Freeze. Take Thomas the Elder this past Tuesday before the last Wednesday after Monday’s Friday at the Yoko Ona Parody Museum, in the parking lot even. Yea, parking lots can be dangerous too. Central parking lots especially. To get to a Square, you must always Times something….”

Ji-San turned to the man sitting next to him and spoke low beneath the sermon. “Are you per chance Peter?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, Rosehaven^^

7 Stones no more (!)

“Senor Green Jeans is a cousin,” states Gene “Mossman” Fade in that oh so grating voice of his after I told him about Alice Farrowheart and granddaughter Toddles’ recent encounter at the Neptune Pool in NWES. If only it were an octave higher Baker Bloch may be able to tolerate the gutty gravelliness for suitable periods of socializing. But I suppose that would mean he’d have to be *Jean* Fade instead of Gene, a girl instead of a boy. Hmm: I wonder, then, if Senor Green Jeans is a girl? But he must get out of here soon. Very much so.

“What does this mean for the town, this name change back to Collagesity?” Gene continued, wondering how it would affect the business at his small bar on Northside.

“It gives it a center,” Baker spoke, the male one that is (there’s also Baker Blinker, of course, the anima to his animus). “We have a tower now. Have you gotten down to that side of town tonight to see? Everyone is gathering. Looks like an instantaneous party, complete with a bonfire. All our friends will be there.” Time’s up. Baker can’t take any more of the voice. He gets up to leave. “See you there hopefully?” he throws back while walking away, rapider and rapider.

—–

Baker was too late for the party, although the bonfire was still smoldering. Police office Jeffry Tanner (yes, yet another cousin), making his nightly rounds, puts it completely out with a special spray made out of anti-tabasco sauce.

But, in the background, we can see the tower, so high from this angle it’s a little hard to make out the “Collagesity” sign.

And even more has happened in town. A certain, special special deity has bloomed new life. Or visa versa. Details soon!

Welcome back Collagesity!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, Lower Austra, Nautilus^^

Return 02

“*Now* can I enter Pipersville?”

“*Thank* – *you*.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^

two three

“So they began playing together, even touring together away from Pipersville, the home base. Daughter and father; Jenny and Keith they were called in the days. Well, Keith never changed his name. Jenny, of course, became Your Mama.”

“Of course,” I replied to Detective Biff Carter. Because he was an officer of the law no more. Not since Oakley. But who am I? Just an observer for now. Call me Smart. Like a Fox. Clever, even. Back to Biff…

“I was here when they played their first gig away from home. Sitting right at this bar listening in. Oh that woman, that *girl* at the time, could sing. And Keith. Well, he was adequate on drums. Never guess he’d eventually become a member of a major rock band, let’s say. And, as you can see, he’s still got the star on the drums; hadn’t got rid of that yet.”

I peered over at the illusion on the Cassandra City stage. Keith B., bank employee of Pipersville whose boss recently told him to keep daughter Jenny out of that room at all cost. So he went into the garage, found the drum kit buried under a heap of old moss. Pulled it out, dusted it off. Practiced. Here we are.

Biff Carter stared over at me. “I’m glad I found the Man About Time, even if it didn’t turn out the way I expected.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I decided to test my new catchphrase. “There’s a Sucka born every half century.”

“Overlap,” he replied, nodding. “Good idea. Train the replacement.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, Cassandra City, Maebaleia/Satori^^

short story

“I think it will be a good day in BoB today, don’t you think sister of mine?”

“BoB willing. Let me check my hand mein sister.”

“The veins indicate good fortune and good weather. The arteries I feel inside the veins dictate strength within weakness.” She put her ivory hand back in her lap. “It is time to venture out into the No Sayers Land. It is time to say Yes to No.”

“Last time…” Esther ventured.

“I know, I know. We will take Terrible Tarantula this time for ease of negotiation. Bring forth the Cage of Time!”

Significant pause. “I don’t know where that is sister of mine. We might have left it at Jim’s. How about the Fence of Space?”

“Very well,” Esther relents. “The Fence… of Space!”

“There he is, mein sister,” quivered Esther, turning around to behold the manifested demon dog corralled by an invisible barrier. “The terrible, horrible Tarantula. More Terrible than Horrible, hence the name.

“That one day when he ate friend Jim Buffet was pretty horrible,” offered sister Mamie.

“Indeed. But also terrible. And Terrible is what we need today to protect. What else do we got?”

“Erm, Plaid the Imploder? That’s all I got.”

“Bring forth! Wait… we need a safe container… forgot. Always forgetting that. Let’s see Fence of Space — Terrible Tarantula’s occupying that right now. Can’t let *him* loose like before. “How about the Box of Chocolates. Box of Chocolates!” she summons.

“Oh no! Left open!” they screamed in terrible, horrible unison.

Jim had just killed his two bestest friends he ever had in the world. He observes from heaven. “Oh no! Left open!” he cries in turn. But with sarcasm.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, Lower Austra, Nautilus^^

five one

He was totally lost. “Vortexville,” he repeated to the zombie looking bartender named Reginald (Reggie).

“Hmm,” Reggie exclaimed. “Lots of places named something like that around here. Vortex, Chaos, Waste this and that. Junk this or another. Toxic, Destitute, Unsavory Lane… Black Hole Village down yonder in the Big Canyon. You’ll have to elaborate more. Who’s in this place? What are some of the residents’ names?”

“I was hired by a Grannie of some kind,” replies the about equally confused builder named Jackson. Jackson Bloch, but no kin to our Baker Bloch. “Or Grannis. Maybe it was Grannis. Or Grannie.”

“*Whose* Granny, then? Don’t know anyone by the name of Granny. Don’t know Vortextra…”

“Vortexville,” Jackson corrected. His left earring glinted. It always did when he felt he was brighter than the person being spoken to at the moment. A character giveaway.

“Maybe Mary will know. Mary’s been around longer than about anyone around these here parts. Lives over in Hambone. I’ll give her a ring. If the telephones are back up.” Reggie retreats behind the bar. Jackson Bloch can hear him speaking to someone. They talk for about 15 minutes. Reggie returns.

“Sorry about that.” We haven’t caught up in a while. Have to be nice to the vampires, you know. They’ll eat you in the middle of the night if not. Mary’s okay, though. And she knows everything.” He pauses, looks at the ceiling.

“Well?” Jackson implored after a minute. “Does she know, er, Grannis? Grannie?” he revolved around again, then held firm with the second. “Grannie… pretty sure.”

“Yeah. I think she does.” Again the pause. Jackson caught on. He visualized how many linden dollars he brought with him on the trip. Just enough to get by. Ruin construction doesn’t bring in the big bucks it use to. He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and slipped Reggie a fiver, hoping that would be enough. It was. Reggie knew about the downturn of the ruin construction business as well.

“Yeah, it’s Jethro and Bauer’s place down on the southwest corner of The Fracture. But it’s a fur piece from here. Did you bring any weapons? A lot of people around here frown on outside weapons. They’ll shoot you good and dead just for that. Best to buy from the local traders. You might as well just give me any weapons you brought with you, then. I’ll make sure they get put in the right hands… er, destroyed. Destroyed I meant there.”

His boss didn’t supply him with any weapons. Budget cuts again. But he didn’t want to expose this weakness. Reggie seemed decent enough for a zombie, but this was a tough place with obviously a lot of back stabbing going on. “Just my red belt in karate, ha ha.” He faked a judo stance on the bartender, who didn’t know the difference. “Oh,” he said. “I see. Oh… I hear the phone again. Better go see who it is.”

Jackson Bloch didn’t hear anything. No ringing. Maybe it was all the bling in his ears. The left one blinged for vanity, the right for gluttony. Right now he was getting hungry. His ear told him. No food here, though, unless you like human flesh. And he wasn’t ready to go there yet. Not quite yet. Stay in The Waste long enough and its something you have to contemplate hard and long about. Most succumb. It’s an acquired taste.

Reggie returned to the counter once more. “I had Mary call off her attack on you. Have to be honest and up front with you. No one knows judo or karate around here, or can tell them apart.”

Obviously, thought Jackson. His left ear glinted again.

“You wouldn’t be worth the trouble.” He leaned forward, his putrid breath against Jackson’s neck. “Here’s the deal.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, The Waste^^

“Well, we have a giant *beaver*. How’s that?”

Marion Harding openly admitted to having a thing about trees. Here we see him climbing up the ladder into a treehouse he’s fancied recently. The owners of the main house on the property were never around, it seemed. And there was a gas station nearby which provided a small bathroom and also a bed for his more basic needs. Then there was the nice view of *the* tree.

Most Ancient One (MOA)  was the most impressive thing in Capitol City to Marion. “Nothing like this in your South Yankton,” he told Philip Strevor the other day while petting its massive trunk. This is Gaeta V, *not* GTA V. And while bland and boring overall yes, there are still advantages.” He started to mention Heidi as well, but didn’t want to get Philip thinking along those lines again — about “retirement” in this Muff-Bermingham run by that tall, pale dame he’s described. The heist should be the main focus now. That’s what they were meeting about at the tree’s base. For even Philip knew the huge old growth had authentic power. Power to expose and power to hide. Whatever was in the hearts of men at the moment. And, through knowledge gleaned from his wacky weed and attached fantasy friends, Marion understood how to harness it.

They’d left the kid at the playground in the snowier part of town. George was looking after her. George swears up and down that he’s 13 and not the 10 or so he appears to be. And, anyway, both Marion and Philip knew that Heidi Hunt Ives could take care of herself for sure. It’s just the *impression* of caretakers they were after. Part of the cover.

Anson. He’d received the name from The Oracle that is The Tree. An auto, a *bug*, stolen and then stolen again. Formerly buried in the sand at the wrecked ship just north of Fae’s Boat House by Tom the Booker — Tom Booker — now deceased and buried himself somewhere in the eastern reaches of Corsica Prime. Car thieving was his livelihood. But this theft was special. Because there was something stashed in the exhaust system he didn’t know about. A 50,000 linden reward issued by the Purple Gang of the Black Lake District alerted him to the situation. Then the kid plugged her own ultra valuable information into the equation. This is *the bug* she stated more than once she was working on, beyond the old and middle aged women, beyond even the poodle. Not an insect, but at the same time, yes an insect, she cryptically claimed. A philosopher’s stone she termed it for him.

This is why he decided to bring her into their fold in the first place. The bug. And she claimed to have the power to know exactly where it was at any one time. And it would continue to get stolen, again and again. The money would keep roll’n in.

—–

“We’re gonna drive this car all the way to ‘Pumpkintwisters’ this time, Jackie.”

“Shut up and get starting.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0501, Capitol City^, Gaeta V^^, Heterocera^^, Rubi^