Category Archives: 0506

in-the-way

Sire, these 3 smaller houses appeared shortly after we transitioned over here from the center of Nascera, blocking our direct access to the beach park.”

“Beach access is important,” states Ellen. “And the time to spend on them.”

“I should clarify to be totally open: a renter *can* walk the sand in front of the houses to get to the park still. But it becomes more… inconvenient. A sign, I would ask you?”

“Seems to be,” agrees Ellen, licking his ice cream all the time. “I don’t want to stay too long but let’s take a look at the parallel houses in Gaston.”

“Thank you for agreeing to accompany me back over there. I know you have a rendezvous tonight with Wheeler.”

“Let’s not call her Wheeler in the blog. We’re being recorded, Sidechick.”

“Oh, right.” He looks down at his white tuxedo shoes, then up again. “I don’t want to invade privacy too much, sire, but notice if you will that the yellow house has already been rented, remembering that Earie rented the yellow house in Gaston. And someone has positioned 3 chairs — red, yellow, blue again — right in the center of that house.

“I see them.” Neither mentions the picture of the red clad woman hanging on the wall. “But we needn’t linger here any longer. Opp should confine himself to the Mockingbird House over there still if he desires to come to Braynard’s Place and use the, er, facilities.” Ellen indicates the larger house just down the beach to their south.

“Shame about the access,” Ellen reinforces.

“Shame,” Sidechick Corea echoes.

—–

“Ooo, so sluggish here,” Ellen complains. “Let’s not stay long.”

“But notice that the houses are on the sea again.  West edge of the island sim instead of the east.”

“I get the gist. Let’s go back.”

—–

Back on the beach, a transfigured Campbell O’Pine (Opp) manifests in the Bluebird Cuddle Van there, eliminating the need for Karl to do so. Now Annie can paint properly, or at least that’s the hope.

Eventually he heads southward through the arch again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0008, 0506, Braynard's Place-, Gaston+

I am Kelp.

Yvonne — not there.

—-

Doflia (formerly Doreena): check.

—–

Cerdunk… submarine??

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0506, Nautilus, Nautilus City

twisty-turny

Olde Lapara Towne’s Rocky Raccoo hasn’t quite given up on the idea of moving to Collagesity, despite his cousins Racket and Sport setting him up nicely with that cabin high up in the Lapara hill country. He can work at the Grand Lapara Hotel, but doesn’t have to live in his old crawlspace area there — quite yet. Life is pretty good. Still he sometimes pops down here in the middle of the night to take a look at the apartment and ponder on the life that could have been. And there’s also the fact that winter is coming. Winter is almost here!

My name remains on the mailbox, Rocky thinks. Bookworm must not have used the town’s postal service during his stay.

There it is. The Hana Lei portal. Baker Bloch worked quite hard on all of this Grassland re-creation. Baker Blinker too.

Portal’s still warm, he says to himself after walking over and feeling the sand castle’s walls. Someone’s used it recently. He’s sees the glint of the green jewel. Hmm. Dare he?

First he decides to take a look upstairs.

I bet you this Bookworm fellow didn’t even meditate, Rocky continues. Scripted Dr. Who throw pillow and great view squandered!

But *they* can look down on him. That was a big factor in his decision not to come here, although he didn’t really express this drawback adequately to The Bakers. Kidd Tower renters could see everything that goes on. And no drapes! Although I guess I could have asked for some. Lots of things happening at once, though: loss of my market, switching jobs, switching places to stay. I didn’t have time to think all the possibilities out. The Bakers promised that I could run Collagesity’s Bodega Supermarket as well.

It’s right down there. I could see everyone that goes in and out from this perch. Advantage. I wonder if this window could be tinted black at night. Kind of a Wall of Jasper effect.

Through the opposite window, there’s a view into the 4th and last apartment in the SoSo Mall complex. The Bakers says it’s rented by a biker guy and his cybernetic lady friend. So that’s more potential spying neighbors. But at least on eye level this time. Still: pretty good view of Collagesity North and the newer part of town next to the Rubi Woods.

Rocky goes back downstairs to the table beside the dune portal and begins making a checklist. Kidd Tower neighbors can see in: negative. Winter is coming to Olde Lapara Towne: positive. 4th Apartment renters can see in at eye level and indirectly: negative, but less of one. Winter is coming: positive.

Rocky puts down the notepad, starts shaking his head. “Winter is coming,” he repeats aloud and looks over at the sand portal. “This will be the final test, then. How far it will take me; how much grass and weed I can find out there in the Great Beyond.”

He digs the owl’s head ring out of the sand in the widest castle turret and places it on the appropriate finger. One twist should do it. Right or left this time? he debates. “Let’s try counterclockwise.” He twists the ring with his body still touching the castle.

“Well this is different.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0506, Heterocera, Jeogeot, Middleton, Rubi

A twisted house…

… for a twisted man.

And/or woman.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0005, 0506, Heterocera, Lapara

Drunk talk

“So tell me about this Bennington you are from,” requested Mary to Tronesisia on the porch of the robot lady’s Rose Moondreams Cottage. They had been back for about a day now. Mary wasn’t ready to return to the small house where she and Pitch Darkly lived now beside her favorite fishing hole. Pitch thought they’d be gone for another week. They were hiding out, in effect. Trying to unravel what that kid was doing on the bridge and his cryptic talk about mutable time. Wegee had at least told them his name was not Loki, the orange word printed on his t-shirt. That was a brand.

“Oh, nothing much to tell,” Tronesisia answered. “Dangerous town. Moreso than Farmington where you are from, of course. How’s that place doing these days?”

“Same as yours. Nothing’s changed. Peaceful and calm.” Mary thinks back to another part of the wegee session from earlier in the day. “Have I ever told you the story of my real last name?”

“Ball, isn’t it?” Tronesisia had heard that from Pitch. “Some relation to Old Martha Ball, I recall.” She takes another swig of her craft beer. Mary does the same with her own. By the way, Mary was not pregnant any longer. She had entered the Realm of Orange again and his influencing sphere. More on that later.

“Yes. My full name is Mary Ball, but not *Chuckles*. Martha was my aunt. Martha Spit Ball. She owned a lot of the Epping Woods. And your killing shack you’re so familiar with now is actually the place I was born. My aunt took care of my mother during the pregnancy. Then we stayed on until I was 3 or 4. Farmington was much more dangerous back then.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” said Tronesisia, surprised at this new twist. And Bennington was peaceful during her own childhood, she thought. Something switched between the two. She swigs again.

“Anyway, I kept coming back and coming back for visits and eventually I just moved here as a teenager. My aunt got me a job as a singer slash dancer slash juggler over in the Blue Angel, which she helped manage. Seedier place in those days.”

“Ahh, love that club,” Tronesisia said. “I use to sing there too. Before your time, however.”

“I didn’t know *that*. We’ll have to compare singing voices sometime. But I was best at juggling, admittedly. That’s how the clowns found me.” Mary gets up from the rocking chair while downing the rest of her beer. “You want another brewsky or are you good?”

“Just bring a whole six pack out here and set it on the floor between us,” Tronesisia requested earnestly.

—–

2 hours later…

“Perhaps the first thing I remember as a child was hearing that awful awful plane crash over at what’s now the Catsocks Crater — sometimes incorrectly called a sinkhole. No, *Sikkima* has a stinking sinkhole. That’s not a sinkhole. That’s just a plain, rotten hole. My mother, at the time see, told me it was the end of the world when it happened. To everyone’s horror, Osborne Well and his monster posse crawled out from the tail piece of the smoldering wreck basically untouched, since, in part, they were already dead, you know. And the fact that they were stored away in those insuladed coffins and crates. Insula-*ted*. Livelies or beaners in the front part, as the monsters were wont to call them — all dead. Plane No. 4. Broke in two. I saw the plane. Everyone in a 1000 meter radius of VHC City came to witness the thing. But it didn’t do its job. Didn’t crash into something.” Mary pointed north beyond Tronesisia with a wobbly hand here.

“But it *did* crash into something,” Tronesisia replied, her own head a bit unsteady as well. “That plain between Tussock and Catpla… Catalp… Catalpa. The plane plain. Fortunately unpopulated at the time. But in former times… prostitutes and jugglers. Elephants and gorillas. Circus, in short. You’d hear, ‘the circus is coming to town,’ and everyone would flock to the same plane… plain, but for a very different reason. Pleasure not plain. Pain!”

“Strange strange world it is, my friend Sissy. My *good* friend Sissy.” Mary takes the last beer from the carton on the floor between them and pops the cap. “Stakes on the big top had just been pulled up the week before, yeah.” She chugs. “But that’s not what I’m talking about, my friend. That’s not what I’m talking about.” She drew herself up from a slouching position while taking another drink. “Pitch Darkly was blamed in part, just because he was about the only monster living in VHC City at the time of the acci-dent. Him and Buster. Even though the vampires and monsters of the plane were victims or potential victims themselves. A line was drawn. You stay across the tracks over there and we good VHC City people will be over here, you see. Pitch was cast out. Buster was cast out, even though he secretly has his coffin still over in town in a hidden nook beneath the Blue Angel. The perv.”

“I know,” replies a hiccuping Tronesisia. “I use to sing there in the ’20s!” They both laugh.

“The clowns went underground after that. They thought they were the target because of the presence of the vampires, the monsters. But they weren’t the target. I should know. I lived amongst them for 3 long years. Three long long years.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0506, Heterocera, VHC City

The Core

Baker Bloch walks back into his Collagesity from the front gate of Old Mabel’s Clarity home (new name!) and pauses to admire its complex collage of structures.

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Ballerina returned to her rightful place beside Boos, check.

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A new being in town. “Welcome stranger.” No answer.

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Marv Taylorson never opened that garage of his here, thought Baker Bloch while passing. But Allen Martin’s got a much better setup over in Collagesity North now. He reminds himself that he’ll have to pick up the Spookmobile tomorrow. 5000 lindens for repairs! Well, that blows most of the money Baker Blinker made on the recent land sale over there, pheh.

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Into the private Blue Feather he goes to catch up with the town’s core constituents, meaning Baker Blinker, Hucka Doobie, and himself essentially. And also share news about Wheeler and Karoz Blogger over there on New Island. Karoz is returning for real this time! But alas — no, he shouldn’t think that. But Wheeler is coming back as well. The “Bill”, ugh.

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——

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“Thanks for sitting down here for a change,” said Baker after they had arranged themselves around a table on the bottom floor of the Blue Feather. “I’ll take one of the seats looking away from the forest since you two were so agreeable. But isn’t it beautiful?” He glances at the forest over his shoulder before unrendering the trees and grass to decrease lag. “I missed it, even in the short time I was away.”

“So explain, Baker Bloch,” opens Hucka Doobie. “You said you had something to tell us about Old Mabel.”

“First off,” says the male Baker, “we need to discuss a little bit about *time*. Remember the last Table meeting?”

“Sure,” states Hucka Doobie. “You were there.”

“No, I really wasn’t. That was Wilson. Old Mabel picked up on it. But here’s the thing — it doesn’t matter any longer who is who with what avatar. Not overall. I’ll show you.”

Baker Bloch turns into Old Mabel before Baker Blinker and Hucka Doobie’s very eyes, shocking them.

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“How?” is all Hucka Doobie could manage with dropped jaw.

“Well… Baker Blinker, check your outfits. You can do it too now. You see, our user had to first give me the power to also become Old Mabel because I had all the stuff. In any one *scene*, let’s say, it’s easier if one of the characters is me. Even if it isn’t me per se. So sometimes when I play Old Mabel, and I’ve been doing it frequently lately, then Wheeler becomes not *Wilson* but Baker Bloch — sometimes — to back me up. Of course Wheeler could also have the power to become Old Mabel. But we don’t like doing that to her.”

“Why not?” asks Hucka Doobie. She checked his outfits as well — no Old Mabel so far. Just her present form and the old bee outfit, her original Second Lyfe avatar.

“I can answer that question,” Hucka,” speaks up Baker Blinker. “It’s because Wheeler is different from everyone else here in town. I *use* to be her. We’re — what would you call it Baker Bloch? Complex.”

“It’s a definition we need to start thinking about, yes,” agrees Baker Bloch. “We’ve *all* changed a little. I’ve dropped the (Space Ghost) mask. Hucka Doobie, you’ve moved away from your Bee purity. But nothing like Baker Blinker has been through. And now: Wheeler. So we don’t like to tinker with what Wheeler is. That’s why she’s The Bill. That’s why she technically still runs the town. Baker Blinker knows all about this.”

“My time in the complex world is over. I’ve returned to basics, the simple. I’ve returned to what you guys are. I’ve had my walk on the dark side. I’ve stared through eyes of darkness. I passed that onto Wheeler, however, and I’m glad of it. I feel free.”

“You see, Hucka Doobie,” Baker Bloch says. “Baker Blinker needed to talk about this. Go ahead, Other Baker. You have the power now. Change into Old Mabel as well. The world won’t end because there’ll be two of her. Go ahead and show Hucka Doobie our user power.”

Baker Blinker decided on a different tactic, just to fool around with Baker Bloch.

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“Oh right,” he says. “I forgot about 3d Karl. You’ve been through this. And that was during the days of your dark passage. Very brave of you. Very brave indeed.”

“Let’s see if I can smile,” Baker Blinker says. She tries and fails. “Nope. It’s an old avatar, no longer available on the Second Lyfe marketplace. And the avatar is non-transferrable. So I’m essentially — most likely — the last Karl of my kind.”

“I had no idea about all this,” proclaims Hucka Doobie. “No idea atall. You’ll have to make a diagram to help me understand. You see, I’m still just a simple bee underneath at all. And I’m not inworld much. But I *do* remember one time I was here.” Hucka Doobie’s eyes slant knowingly behind her sunglasses. “See, I understand stuff you guys don’t. Baker Bloch, if you would insert a photo in your blog later on and I’ll tell the story now. The story of how I became One Pink.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0506, Heterocera, Rubi