Bay door open at the service station with bait taken, Wheeler has finished her exercise routine and is fit and ready for action. Philip makes sure of that.
Akking here we come again!
Category Archives: 0501
“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 Old Ancient (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.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0501, Capitol City^, Gaeta V^^, Heterocera, Rubi^
corea
Baker Blinker would scratch her head if she had a free hand. “The treasure map says it’s suppose to be right here Other Baker,” she calls across the property line to her male counterpart.
“Some kind of phantom prim is keeping us apart. It must be the treasure!”
“Could be just the terraforming taking time to kick in,” offers Baker Blinker. “Usually the effect is over after a minute, though.”
“Hmm, I already tried logging off and then back on.”
“Me too.”
“I’m on my side and you are on your side,” resigns Baker Bloch. “But we’re unable to join each other here. At the ‘X’.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0501, Heterocera, Jeogeot, Middleton^, Rubi^
olde name
“Thank you again for coming in on your day off, Hoss, to help me.”
“Well,” he answers. “Sounds like the fate of the whole town depends on us finding some facts!”
“So right,” Teebestia replies. “According to this ‘Big Book of Moths and Butterflies’, the name Astarte comes from a particular moth, just like Lapara and almost all sims of the continent we’ve checked. Not a local demon. How ’bout you? Found anything?”
“Still looking through this old book on Malone, the one that told us its most famous resident was Wheeler.”
“Which is impossible. She just showed up there! Still, we should interview her.”
“Hold on, Teeb… here’s a section on Owls Head.” He turns the page, reads a bit further, then utters: “Oh me Godz.”
“What is it?”
“Owls Head use to be called Ringville!“
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0005, 0501, Heterocera, Lapara^, New York
Returns
“This Eclipse wine is pretty good, Hucka.”
“Yeah, you’re certainly woofing it down, Baker. Thanks for meeting with me tonight, even if in character — as the Orange King?”
“Still working on it. He’s from Saturnia. But we better start calling that (sim) simply Saturn. Like the place the guys who run this coffee shop are from apparently.”
“Could be a connection, even,” offers Hucka Doobie. “We must explore every angle and then discard mercilessly. Tough going ahead to finish (the novel).”
“Jupiter mentioned in the last (blog) post,” adds Baker/Orange King. “Jupiter and Saturn. Opposites.”
“Greater benefic and greater malefic,” furthers Hucka Doobie. “But back to Clare and Wheeler. She came back to VHC City to play that role. And now it’s snapped away from her?”
“The real Clare Nova seems nice enough. And her spots in Saturn and several other sims around the area are nature and beauty oriented. I think that swayed me into telling her I’m writing fiction about greater VHC City. Just tonight. Just a minute ago.”
“I suppose that’s a good idea.” Hucka Doobie tries to look out the 4th wall again but can’t quite find it.
—–
Wheeler awoke to the smell of familiar dampness. She knew she was back immediately. Tears formed in her eyes. She never thought the Underground would look this good.
—–
The Musician had returned to VHC City via the key shop several hours earlier. Pilot Woody Woodmanson was nowhere to be seen upon “landing”. He soon found his feet walking toward his old haunt, the Safe Plaza, and its Ear Bar. But his beloved Dr. Who pinball machine there seemed to be broken. Malefic Saturn already in action?
He found an old friend to chat with on the bar counter. “I wonder where Wheeler is, Percolator?”
Percolator told him. And about the potential loss of the Clare Nova role. And about the new Orange King of Saturn. The perpetually caffeine filled mutant clown was noted for being quite the gossip machine.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0501, Heterocera, VHC City^
Martins
Hucka Doobie threw Baker Blinker a party at Perch in celebration of her recent land sale, a 3856 parcel in the northeast part of Minoa. Now I feel Collagesity is how it should be size-wise, with Blinks’ land costs reduced down to the next tier. I anticipate no more additions or subtractions to the town. It’s great as is.
Afterwards, Baker Blinker decided to go over and talk to new Collagesity renter Allen Martin to see how the move went. You see, Martin had *just* set up his gas station and backing house on the 3856 when the sale went through. The Bakers kindly offered to immediately move the still empty World of Collage building next door to make room there for his structures. Baker Blinker met Martin’s son Doogie in the garage. She was surprised to see Baker Bloch’s Spookmobile being worked on within.
“Hi, I’m Baker Blinker.”
“Nice to meet you,” Doogie said. “Are you here for the car? Because we need to talk about some costs.”
“No, that’s Baker Bloch’s car. The other Baker. You know who I am, don’t you?”
“You’re the owner.”
“Of the land, not the car. That’s the other Baker. But I thought he took it on his trip with him, hmm.” She scans the car, verifying as far as she could ascertain that this is indeed Baker’s Spookmobile. “He owns the middle and south parts of the town,” she continues. “I own this part, the northern part. But not the car, see. That’s still Baker Bloch’s.”
“Well, I still need to talk to someone about this car,” Doogie said, thinking that this dame sure is chatty.
“Your father around, um… what’s your name again?” Baker Blinker felt it somewhat rude that he didn’t introduce himself properly but just kept going on about that car. That blame car.
“Douglas. But call me Doogie. Like Doogie Houser the tv star.”
“Well, nice to meet you again Doogie.”
“Likewise. So about the car…” Doogie, a born mechanic, couldn’t help himself. He goes on to explain that the whole exhaust system needs to be replaced. He said that it looked like the car had been sitting on the bottom of some ocean for years, a joke that hit the target dead center.
“Well, actually…”
Allen Martin then walked up from behind Baker Blinker. She caught him winking at his son. “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing here at this old, dingy garage.”
“I’m Baker Blinker,” she explained again. “The owner… of the land, not the car. We spoke on the phone last night. We moved a whole building next to yours this morning.”
“Oh, right right,” he said. “The *boss*. Well, I do appreciate it, I really do. We — Doogie and I — have been moving around quite a lot lately. It would be nice to settle down somewhere on the mainland and establish a clientele. Last place was up in Bennington. Let’s see, it was last Tuesday — right Doogie? — when the gangsters came and shot all the windows out. And then there were the fires, the floods, the tornados. No, Bennington was not a place to set up shop. A wild wild town. So we’re glad we’re here. Aren’t we Doogie?”
“I suppose so father.” He was still looking over the car. “And the headlights don’t work. Horn neither. Spark plugs and wires need replacing. Distributor obviously. You can’t put this car back on the highway without a lot of repairs.”
Allen Martin approaches the back of the car and bends down. “I thought I saw something wiggling around in that tailpipe, hmm.” Inspecting it and seeing nothing now, he rubs his peepers with his fingers. “Ehh, it’s been a long day. Just a trick of the eyes, I’m sure.”
It wasn’t. The banded grey sea serpent waited until nightfall to crawl out of the rusting exhaust system where he’d been living for years and make his introductions. Allen Martin was still sitting at his desk on the top floor of that backing building, where, about a half hour before, he enjoyed a beautiful sunset over Robin Lane while thinking to himself that this is a place he could maybe stay a spell.
Allen Martin was asleep, feet on desk, by the time his son Doogie yelped upon finding the serpent on the floor next to him while underneath the tv, trying to jerry-rig a free cable connection.
“Nothing but static, phew hew!” slurped the snake loudly. “I’m Aspinwall by the way, like an asp in a wall. And I’m about to have babies!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0501, Heterocera, Rubi^
Sunklands 