Category Archives: 0502

Rael-ing

He had followed John down to the Ravine (bar) but he was no saint. Lamb equals Ram; he sees himself in his own face, the user power.

I was a beautiful little girl before becoming such a handsome man, he thinks, still changing, still metamorphasizing.

“I’ll have what John’s having, please.”

Brother Jack the bartender turns. “Yeah, what’ll it be, *John*??”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0502, Yaya Land

00270502

Center. Peace.

He has found Home. Paperweight. Paperville but different. Root word: Paper. And Soap.

And then there he was. Soap National Park. In Paper.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0502, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, Paper Soap

monsters

“Tennessee, pheh,” she uttered, staring over at the fake, flat snowy mountains standing in for the real ones just behind. “Come on, George,” she urged to the meditating youth gazing out in the other direction. “Let’s go see what this *Abyss* is all about.” She starts walking toward the stairs, still talking. “Nothing to be afraid of, George. So says TILE.” Was Clare losing her faith? Now that she remembers the whole of the Wheeler existence? Do we even need to be asking this? I believe it is so.

“Come on come on come on.”

“Oh all *right*.” George was enjoying the meditation. He didn’t want to encounter the Abyss just now.

—–

“Well, here we are at the mouth of this thing. You-go-first.”

“Me? But I’m just a kid.”

“You’re no kid. *Go*. Protect me if you must.” She sweeps her hand forward. “Off you go,” she commands again. “Come on come on come on.” This was not like Clare Nova, who was sweeter. This was the orders of Wheeler. Fully clowned now, she needed to find out what she was facing at the end.

—–

“What do you see in there?” called Clare-Wheeler from just outside the mouth now.

“I don’t know,” replied George. “Skulls. Candles. Lots of skulls and candles.”

“That’s the Abyss part,” said Wheeler. “What else is in there? Look in the corners, along the walls. Look *beyond* the normal.”

“There’s nothing *normal* about this place.”

“*Try*,” she urged. “I’ll be right here, ready to help if needed.” She definitely wasn’t going to help. If the power behind the Abyss got George, then another one would fill his spot. Just like she did with Clare. George could die, yes. *Duncan* had already died, maybe several times — hard to keep up. But Baker Bloch will continue on. Along with herself it seems.

“Um. Oh yeah, Mother Mary. I guess that’s good. But then a, let’s see, Medusa Gorgon beside her. Not so good.”

“Great. Keep looking. Maybe something in writing?”

“Well, the Gorgon is holding a, er, book it looks like.” He stands on his tippy toes. “But I can’t see the cover… (strain) to tell what it is.”

“Get that book,” Clare-Wheeler commands. “Just *grab* it from her.”

Dare he?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0502, Purden/Snowlands^, Sansara^^

00250502

“Will you two just *stop* with the arguing,” requested Inky Woman from the Falls, hair getting wetter and wetter. The water should be becoming blacker any time now.

Any time now.

What were the two frog-ish goldfish, Goldie and Grayscale, arguing about or perhaps just discussing in a loud way? Bodies of water, I’m guessing. When does a pond become a lake?; how many acres does it have to be for the name transaction to kick in? 100, Goldie is guessing. “100 *feet* or 100 acres?” responds Grayscale, trying to differentiate 1d from 2d, like any good mathematician. Goldie is a linguist, though, and his experiences with numbers is not good. Instead: letters are his numbers, as Grayscale would understand. If he grasped letters at all. “1 through 10: 100,” he exclaimed to the other in a voice that definitely argued for argument now. “Well, A-Z right back at you!” Yells. Definitely getting louder and louder. “75! 3/4ths!” “A-B-C-D; R!” “125!!” “R. RADAR!!”

“STOOOPPP!!!”

Goldie turned to his left and Grayscale to his right. Inky Woman had played her card, avoiding a crash. Jenny Lind enters Pickleland from above. All are embarrassed they even argued at all as the Great Woman stepped out of the ship and onto the green of the lake (or pond) peninsula. Graceful. Like a butterfly. She told her entourage to wait within while she settled the matter.

She takes 1 step. She takes 10 and is upon them. “Lake,” she responds to Goldie. She turns (changes). “Pond,” she says to the other. Then, hair still not wet, she moves away.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0502, Pickleland

Orient 01 02

Baker reading a popular history of the Trojan-Durexian Wars and contemplating the “what ifs” of a Durexian win, an alternate reality. What if… the voodoo spells were a little more advanced at the end; what if… the Southern Passage could have been secured 3 days earlier by Lord Duncan and his crew. Water under the bridge now, because the North defeated the South, although the Great East-West Highway represents a tangible barrier between the two still. So besides being split off, in essence, from the rest of Our Second Lyfe, the Omega continent remains kind of split itself, despite the unifying government. Lisa the Vegetarian played a role in setting all this up. Quartz was her game, and the Omega continent mountains centered around a large lake contained plenty of it. She was able to buy mountain after mountain, selling most of them eventually but retaining some, like the one where Tessa is temporarily staying in that treehouse with a strong butterfly theme. This is her half-sister after all (!). Why wouldn’t she try to help out, now she knows the urgency of the situation.

Baker here sits on the side of the same mountain, staring out at an old Durexian air base with a bamboo plane relic, a heritage site now. Because bamboo didn’t cut it in the end, despite the strong voodoo. Not strong enough anyway; later it got out of hand as poverty increased.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0502, Mountain Lake^, Omega^^

“reseeding”

I’ll never forget the first rehearsal—her clear comprehension of music and text at sight. I’ve never encountered such a perfect concept at the first reading, simple, natural, and from the heart.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0502, Bellisaria^^, collages 2d

string theory

Dinner Girl often dreams she is her great great grandmother Din Din, or at least her winged statue in NWES City’s huge police station harboring a vast law enforcement system. Liberating the city of all men who don’t understand or submit and making unions with like-minded strong, weapon toting women across the globe, like the Amazonians. Great people they are, great tribe. Except for the, well, sawing, and I’m not referring to snoring here. What is *left* is the one. Leforest should know, now called Phyllis in this here blog and blog derived photo-novel 22… well, you know. Leforest Bresford. Let’s see what she’s up to. And where the *heck* did Hucka Doobie go? Oh well… on with the show. The show must go on, as Mercury X. Rising once sang to complement the going insane one.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0502, Hana Lei^^, NWES Island^

Wendy City

It is happening again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0502, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot^^, NWES Island^

Stormy

The jazz and beatnik club known as The Dive was actually just a front for the numbers station in a secret room below the establishment. An old bomb shelter. Charlie Banana became humanized after being successfully contacted by Poetry Dancer. They listened to the artful tunes of D.J. Marty, still intent on finding out whether Yoko was a good or bad witch. We’d determined that Mid-Hazel was the real manipulator behind the scenes. Another All the Numbers situation, most likely. He played his Pepper album both forwards and backwards at once to attempt to create a third, higher perspective. Lt. Salt entered the club and killed them all bought them all drinks. It was an unexpected result.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0502, Hana Lei^^

violet 04

“What am I doing here? In this sim, pheh.” She waves the bat in the air, contacting nothing.

—–

Downstairs in the Purple Marz house, somewhat human again Jack Snow answers the door. For no one.

“Rerro? (pause) Rerrooo?”

—–

How much for the lot of you?” Peter Osseo asks in a neighboring Southeast sim.

“50 lindens,” the talking battymobile responds for both.

“Sold!”

—-

Your job, er, Tom — just like before — is to guard it day and night. Just stay here. I’m going to find out what makes this baby tick!”

“It’s like a really — loud clock,” mafia dude Tom Blinks complains softly, then wonders the obvious.

Too late.

——

Peter Osseo wakes up with a start…

… then vows to get rid of that crazy bat wing vanity he bought yesterday on sale asap.

Too late.

—–

Peter Oesso wakes up.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0502, Corsica^^, Southeast^