Category Archives: 0506

March 19, 2020 · 8:21 am

on five fire

Fate and resonance had moved them very quickly further into the elephant’s ear. Paired off they were still, Parasol here with Irish Lass Phyllis Klondike, formerly Phyllis Phox. Then in the background: Kate McCoy, all grown *down* for some reason now, with Audrey [last name deleted — *not* Phillips — I don’t think]. Now all they needed was a DJ to play some appropriate tunes, perhaps for dancing even. Because we have new couples beyond the old. And drumstick makes 5, whatever that f-ing means. I’m having trouble typing tonight I’m so f-ing excited, it seems. For tonight is the time of a Big Reveal, schweet. So first to the picture of the two couples…

Oh, I think I see. Since we’re so close to Denshore here, obviously related to the Danshire sim mentioned toward the beginning of this here photo-novel, then I believe it’s time to introduce another villain into our work called Batty Casey, even though I’m not sure still that this is the Big Reveal of tonight. As Denshore is a one vowel advancement over Danshire in a doubled way (hmmm… just saw Vowel somewhere, probably in the Oracle) so Batty Casey represents a logical step up from Casey One Hole seen there, baseball bat replacing golf club. Play ball! In fact, let’s play two. Ernie Banks.

The sun is beginning to come up. Better move to dialog…

“I *will* revenge my husband Phillip’s death at the hands of that killer Arthur Kill,” spoke Audrey harshly at the front table now to little Katy Kidd, who didn’t really understand what was going on — yet. But she knew the name of Audrey’s husband and it wasn’t Phillip. She makes a note of this while still tapping her little foot to the beat layed down by skillful Casey. Through the empty holes of the Connect Four game situated between them, she saw that Audrey was doing the same with her hand. So infectious. Was this the Big Reveal tonight? That the beat was so infectious to both hand and foot? Moving on…

Parasol knew that Big Black Smoke, the same as Big Black Skome but in a reverse way (again), simply had to be killed at the end of that Dead End Steert (Street) because he was a Mouse, i.e., Rat. 3 eggs, all laid in a row. Infectious. “I want that Gwar,” she demanded to Irish Lass Phyllis Klondike across from her. “I don’t need it, I want it. Give it to me. It is *green*, I mean, *gray*, I mean, RED.”

“Yes it is all those,” spoke Phyllis calmly back. “The green, the gray, the red.” She looked in the direction of Batty Casey and the baseball bat thumping a different tune now, one having to do with a tug of war and a fall into a deep hole to Hell itself and the Devil inside. Is the bat a drumstick? But perhaps that should be Audrey speaking here instead.

“Is the bat a drumstick?” she asked Katy Kidd across the way. Batty Casey kept on thumping, like she was hitting homer after homer after homer.

(to be continued?)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0506, Corsica, Egg Hill Sink, Henrietta

Tagged as , , , , ,

January 11, 2020 · 9:24 am

island boy

“It’s been a year since I lost Irma, Percy,” spoke Ji-San over to the curious elk. “It’s time to, well, move on.” He puts his hand over his mouth to cough.

“Rosehaven is (throat clear) *perfect* — I’ll go ahead and say the name if no one else will — but I’m not ready to settle down anywhere right now. Like that dude in Big Fish, you know, the one who went to that place with all the white people and said to them the same thing (ahem). Then he went into the forest and realized Bach is dead. Except it wasn’t Bach, hmmm (ah-herm).” He looked over at the elk again to reorient himself. Percy dutifully peered up from his munchings, meeting him eye to eye. Vegetation was simply tastier here on Crow Island. The End of Time people put a lot of work into this particular area of the Crow sim, one of 7 in the estate archipelago. Percy had no desire to move far from this spot. This was his home. But could it be — no, Ji-San must put that out of his mind. He’s a roamer. He can find home when he’s dead and buried in a grave. Irma, he thought, I’ll be back with you soon enough. Big Fish caught.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0506, End of Time+

Tagged as ,

November 4, 2019 · 8:25 am

back room

“You shouldn’t be smoking that in here Heidi. We’re just kids here, you know. What if we get *caught*?”

“Speak for yourself, George,” she replied about the kid part.

The boy looks around. “So — we’ve turned down the lights. You’ve smoked half your joint; I’ve drank half my coke. Where is she?”

“Just give her some time.” Heidi Hunt Ives takes another toke. Again: she’s not really a kid.

“12:36 now,” he says after checking his Mick Mouse watch. “Maybe we should go. I need to get back to the park.”

“Well there you go,” she offered about the time. “Give it another minute.”

—–

12:37:

“Oh my God,” she whispers over. “There she is.”

“Where? Where?”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0506, Gaston+

Tagged as , ,

August 26, 2019 · 4:58 am

teeth

Preston Weston heard his own voice on the tape his father was viewing. “Hey Dad?”

“Yes Son,” slouching Craighead Phillips Option 01 said from the couch.

“Whatcha watching, heh?”

“Oh, just your school play you put on last year. Can’t get enough of it.” He chuckles at something his son said on the videotape, currently playing the role of Hamlet.

“Cool, cool, heh.”

There was silence between the two as Dad watched act 01 scene 03 unfold.

“Hey Son. There’s Felicia Mae Appletree. Didn’t you have a thing for her (mother) last year?”

“Yeah, heh, a thing,” returns Preston Weston, thinking: duh, still a thing, Dad.

“What did you use to say about her? — so cute.”

“Geez, I don’t know, Dad.” Pacman level 3 had just been reached by eating the last red ghost.

“Yeah, he he, I remember. You said, that apple tree needs shaking, Dad.”

“Right. I remember.” A new ghost appears, new apple color. Green this time.

More silence as each are engrossed in their respective activities. Then Craighead Phillips abruptly switches off the new colored TV his wife bought just this afternoon. “Well, I’m satisfied with the product, Preston. How do you like the new colored monitor we bought in tandem, eh? 1/2 price on each. What a deal.”

“It’s, er, *great* Dad. Never knew there were more than two shades of ghosts. All these colors, heh!”

“Okay, we’re both satisfied. Let’s go tell your mother.”

“Oh, heh. Mom always goes out at about this time to the bridge club.”

“Oh… well, um, let’s get something to eat, eh? Little snack before supper?”

—–

“I’m on my dessert already and you haven’t even hardly touched your sandwich yet. What gives?”

“Oh, a little belly ache I suppose, heh.” Preston Weston forces himself to take another bite of the BLT before him, knowing that his mama would fix a full meal only about an hour later that he would be *required* to finish.

“How was school today? I forgot to ask earlier.”

“Fine, Dad. Thanks for picking me up,” he said with a mouthful.

“You’re welcome.” *slurp*

“How’s, er, mom’s mouse?”

“That’s mousse, Son. And it’s fine.” *slurp*. “Almost perfect, actually.”

“Oh right. Mousse, like the animal moose. Not a mouse, hehe, heh.”

“Right Son.” *double slurp* “Well, I’m done. Guess it’s time to go.”

“You heading back to — where, heh, did you say you came from today?”

“Athlone Village. In the middle of it all, which is — go ahead and say it with me, Son.”

“Which is unfortunately in the way,” they utter in tandem, Preston Weston rather reluctantly, tired of the old saying.

—–

“What time did your father leave today, Preston Weston?” Her voice suddenly had that edge to it. Father talk edge.

“Oh, heh. Um, about 4 I guess. Maybe, heh, closer to 5?”

“Bridge time, then, hmm,” Your Mama dismissed.

Preston Weston wanted to ask his mother if that bridge would ever get built but resisted the urge.

She turned to her other son, in the chair. “How about you Robin? When did *you* get home from the wilds? Did you also see your father?”

I’m not his son, he thought. “Oh, about 5 as well. Must have just missed him, sorry.” He wasn’t sorry.

They all kept watching “Leave it to Beav” in living color after this. Starring: the Beav.

“Look Ma,” Preston Weston indicated. “Like *me*!”

He was suddenly inside the TV set again, 3 hours lost.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0015, 0506, Maebaleia/Satori, Pipersville/Sink X

Tagged as , , , ,

June 23, 2019 · 6:41 am

privacy

The 3rd night, Jim  (A.) Brown came down from Pipersville to hear his home duo. Owner of Jim’s Club of course, the one everybody dug in Pipersville. Well,  he got an earful; realized he couldn’t hold on to them and they would outgrow the bounds of his small venue. “Soon enough you’ll be playing places like the Seraph Club on the opposite side of town,” he declared to Keith afterwards at the bar, who was still wiping his forehead from the excitement. Jenny had gone shopping for trinkets up in Chinatown.

“Yeah, maybe,” Keith agreed, nodding. “I don’t know, I don’t know. Something’s just — *entered* me all of a sudden. He looks back at the drum kit and the circle within the circle. “I feel like (he turns back to Jim), that I’m in a different place now.”

“I would advise you to remember The Room — where you come from.”

“I mean, ahem, that’s kind of what I’m doing.” He swigs his drink again. Martini. Dry as a sinkhole.

“What about the maths? What about the theorems we worked on? You know that Sink X can’t actually be a sink. None of the Maebaleia depressions are. We’ve *proved* it.”

“Shush,” he motioned with his mouth and hands. “Keep it down.” He looked around to see if anyone else from Pipersville was in the room with them by chance. No one spotted. Todd A., who also came down this fateful night, was escorting Jenny around. But that was their plan all along: to leave Brown and Bower together for a while for a man to man talk. Because Jim and Todd knew what was going on before they arrived. The Brown-Bower experiments hadn’t even existed before this.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0014, 0506, Cass City+, Maebaleia/Satori

Tagged as , , ,

April 20, 2019 · 10:19 am

Woody’s Wonders

She teleported into the center of the Blue Feather, per usual. Home. But no more Linden woods, she sighs while staring out the transparent wall.

She spots Woody’s first addition: an abandoned car next to the Fal Mouth Moon gallery next door, which cheers her up somehow. Something new, something different. “Oh well,” she speaks aloud to herself. “Time to march onward and upward, as Baker Bloch might positively say. Or Woody now, I suppose. Let’s see, he said meet him at the town dump…”

Wheeler decides to change into Hidi tonight before heading out in public.  Quick and easy. She moves toward the front door of the club, and then spots something else different: pirate mausoleum’s wall penetrating through (although she didn’t guess this at the time).

She then goes outside through Blocking Shrub, takes a gander up and then down the main road bisecting 7 Stones.

Oh me Gods, she thinks. The crystals are back, pheh. I suppose that’s what you get for having a wooden toy decorate your town now. On cue, Woody pops into view across the street, first a glowing white ovoid, then himself. He was sitting in a rocking chair, looking smug and proud as usual. And that voice (!) She must brace herself.

—–

“Well I’m here. What’s you got, Dummy?”

“Woody, please.”

“Oh that’s right,” Wheeler/Hidi amended. “You’re a toy, not a dummy. And not a dummy toy.”

“I have a college degree!” he spoke in a high, irritating register while holding forward his glinting gold key.

“Diploma, yes.” Wheeler remembers seeing Woody for the first time with that key. She remembered the key didn’t like her, even though Woody didn’t say it out loud. Thought her *aberrant*. Well… I’ll show him — it — who’s aberrant now.

Woody takes a long, deep sniff. Wheeler didn’t like this gesture either, although no nasal vocalizations are involved. Just the fact that it came out of the same nose, I suppose. “Smell that?!” The voice again, ugh. “Ewww. Doesn’t smell *good*, does it? Aberrant more like it.” Like you, Woody thinks, but once again doesn’t say aloud. He gets up. “Let’s go see where it’s coming from.”

“The dump, I would suppose,” states Hidi logically while following Woody past the appropriate sign.

Before she knew it, Woody had run ahead of her and dived off what appeared to be a bank.

She gasped, walked much more carefully to the precipice, and peered down, fearing the worse. But there was only Woody sprawled atop a mouth shaped floatie toy, looking up from a interestingly decorated swimming pool. “Oh hi, Wheeler! Long time no see. Dive on down. The water is perfect today!”

The closer she got to the bank, the more the smell dissipated. “Oh what the hell.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0013, 0506, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus

Tagged as , , , ,

February 13, 2019 · 7:42 am

Hinterland

“The animations in this town blow, Philip.”

“I know Philip.”

“Better wake up Marion. I’m ready to blow this town.”

“Me too.”

“Marion,” the non-bearded Philip begins to call. “Oh Mar-ion,” he sings softly. “Come out come out wherever you’re at.”

“Twinkle, twinkle,” jokes the bearded Philip.

Insert transmutation sound…

“50,000 linden dollars,” Marion Star Harding begins. “For all the mysteries of Caledonia unlocked. Will save you 5 years worth of research.”

A pause. “What about the girl?” Philip inquires.

“You can throw her in too. The shapeshifter.”

“But that’s *you*.”

They wait. Another transmutation doesn’t take place.

“She must be upstairs,” offers Philip.

“Yes,” Marion quickly agrees. “Since neither one of us are her. Upstairs, yes. On the bed. With *1* animation.”

—–

Heidi Hunt Ives stayed motionless tossed and turned all night. It was those darn boat horns. “Look out, look out!” they repeatedly cried. “I’m over here! Watch it! Can you see me! If you can’t here’s another blare from my horn, blow blow!”

It doesn’t always have to be fog in the harbor.

Better get up, though, and talk to the partners in crime, she grumbled inwardly while trying to fully rouse herself. Moving day, she guessed.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0506, Caledonia, Rose Heaven-

Tagged as , ,

December 1, 2018 · 11:22 am

houseband

“Mind you, I’ve seen enough giant rats in this town to do me a lifetime, boy.”

“Come on, Uncle Zach. We like the same shades, same drugs, same women. Why should this be different? You *gotta* dig Firesign Theatre, man. It’s just the chillest.”

They listened some more. “Okay, who’s this Hemlock Stones they keep talking about?” demands Domino’s uncle at a tipping point. “Why is he listening to that crazy, transvestite woman and her problems; why do they keep looking for pirates down at that wharf?”

“It’s Sherlock Holmes, stoopid. Man.” Domino shakes his head. “A *spoof*, dad-i-o.”

“I’m not some beatnik fool. Stop calling me… *dad-i-o.*”

“Alright,” Domino relents. “But just *listen*.”

They listen again. “Me and the doc on the dock with the dog — the deadly dog,” the record rapped after a spell. Then said dog exploded.

“Honestly, son, I think I’ve had enough,” and Uncle Zach moved toward the table loaded with their drugs to retrieve a heroin syringe. “I’m going to a place I *understand*.”

A downcast Domino lifts up the needle while Uncle Zach inserts his own.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0506, Gaston+

Tagged as , ,

September 15, 2018 · 7:59 am

winner

“I don’t like that scene, Rabbit 02.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to change the game.”

“Do what you have to do, Rabbit 01.”

“Orange?”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0506, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island

Tagged as

June 27, 2018 · 6:46 am

Darkly Manor

“Looks like no one’s coming to our little soiree, Osborne.” Pitch appears to listen to a nonexistent voice across the table from him, white hand to white ear. “What’s that? You forgot to send out the invitations to your 478th birthday?” Pitch settles back into his black widow chair. “Well, yeah I did, Osborne. Because I want to be alone with my thoughts tonight. And you my friend, with your batty, flying books, don’t count.”

Main problem: His wife Mary had gone with Martha Lamb to the *main* Fries with Cheese Church over in the Pond District to meet the higher ups, she said, seemingly so excited about the visit that Pitch’s birthday was forgotten. Oh well, he tried to rationalize. It wasn’t the 475th or the 480th or any of the important ones. Pitch himself forgot his 321st, 351st, 378th, 421st, and 457th. But having a wife is different; in his mind, he was thinking she was suppose to remind *him* of such occasions.

Did he do something to offend her? he wondered. Let’s see, her birthday is February 25th. Checks to that — he got her a nice bouquet of roses, red and blue both. 1st Date Anniversary — also a check. White lilies this time. At least a half dozen, he speculated. “Osborne,” he pipes up again, “you’re good with counting. How many lilies did I give Mary for our date anniversary?” He listens to the nonexistent voice again. “12, hmm. Twice as many as I remembered. See, there’s no reason for her to be pissed off at me. It *had* to be an oversight.”

But his thoughts turn again to Sister Martha Lamb, a person he did not trust one iota. Mary has had private counseling sessions with her up in that stinky church of hers and always came home acting a little weird to him, like a distance had formed between them. She was quite happy and content to accompany Pitch to the services at the Cult of Oo’d Church before the coming of Lamb and her Fries with Cheese intrusion next door. Sure she was disgusted and angry that time some of the sacrificial blood squirted her way and ruined one of her Sunday Best dresses. They don’t sit in the front pews any more; problem solved.

A knock at the front door downstairs. Pitch looks hopefully over at Osborne. Mary! he thought. Rushed home to apologize.

But it was “only” his good friend Woody Woodmanson from up the road, large present in hands. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a party,” his wooden comrade relayed to him after the handoff. You know how many friends you have in town. But I guess you and Mary probably just wanted to be alone, hehe.” He tried to nudge his friend in the ribs, but just swiped air. Woody was not the most coordinated of avatars

Afterwards:

“This is not what I expected Osborne. He’s always given me keys before.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0506, Heterocera, Rubi

Tagged as , , ,