Category Archives: 0507

buttes

https://bakerbloch.com/2018/03/15/69585/

“Catvas I always smells of bird,” Bill complains. “And Catvas II of fish.”

“You smell of lion,” Grassy continued the grousing. “And I smell of, um, sodden earth? Haystacks?” He looks down at his white, sneakered feet. “Haven’t quite pinned it down.”

“We’ll get to Montana and then we’ll know.” Bill leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Got any more of that wacky weed on ya? I brought some tweezers.”

“Then I’ve got the pony, hehe. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“I dig!”

—–

“I was surprised to find (The) Bill still living in Iris in that neat shack of hers with the great view of the Moth Temple. I thought she’d moved on long ago. But time traces have a way of lingering — if you’re alert to the situation. Which I try to be, bananas and other fruits be darned. Sox. I’m wondering about black and white again tonight, expanded into green and blue vs. red and yellow. Just like the Mmmmmm’s, poor bastards. I suppose Mmmmmm Grassy Noll is still around, maybe even Roger Pine Ridge. Yes, we must journey back back back to Iris, the “eye” of Heterocera. Just for a bit.

“I think we’ve about got it, Grassy!”

“Grass, please,” he reprimanded about his name once again.

Unlike before, they were working on the flip side this time.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, Heterocera^^, Iris^

Peters’ town 02

Certain Death?

Baw Beese L., source of St. Joseph River Lake Michigan, helps change Osseo to safer Oesso. Think Possom to Opossum once more.


“Thanks!”

The “Endless Window” collage changes accordingly.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, Michigan

clubbing 03

Firefive could barely not see the little central Danshire island that started it all. He decides to eliminate volume to check.

“Aah. *There* you are you little bastard. No Small Kowloon Shack perched on your noggin neither here nor there. Good!” Firefive, commonly referred to as either Fire or Five amongst friends — 1/2 and 1/2 — then turned the other way atop the Debelox water tower in the middle of Mouth of Ralph to gaze south instead. Could he see *it* as well. The Mansfield Mansion in Port Mansfield?

“Aah. *There* you are you little bastard,” he repeated when zooming in and volume returned. *My* bastard. Getting dark — better head back home for now.

“Lucifer!? I’m hoome!”

Jack Snow the French bulldog barked at him after he opened the door. Jack Snow never remembered who he was, although he’d lived here for years. Batty Casey waited in the living room, ready this night to make the Big Reveal to her sometimes lover, sometimes enemy, 1/2 and 1/2 again. She was hoping this would tip the scales one way or another. “Friend or foe?” she wanted to call back but bit her firey tongue with joint firmly in cheek. She moved it with her tongue more toward the middle again and took another deep draw. She then decided this wouldn’t be the night. They would watch reruns of “I Love Lucifer” on the tellie instead. Fred Merth — so funny.

Fire or Five would become a widower soon enough at the end of 5. The first male widow of the bunch, growing weekly almost. 6 may bring a return to normalcy. But: doubtful.

“Come on in, dearest. Our show’s about to start.”

—–

She perches behind, oh so tempted to clobber him right here and now with her deadly bat just to get it over with. Then the heart accompanied by big band music appears, tipping her in the right wrong direction again.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, Corsica^^, Southeast

the F word

I’m going to *search* out meaning in life while I have it. Like this Great Fracture or Fissure. What is it? Why do people live around it? Fractured — like this world, this estate. Why exist here?

—–

I’ve got to get out of here! thought Duncan Avocado while staring out from the Great Fracture or Fissure sim at the Spiral Jetty over in Hambone. Create some interactive land art; take some Real Life photos; something! Jackson Bloch did it. I can too!

But, no, his assignment tonight was to head down to the Last Drop at the west lip of the Fissure and interact with the locals; try to get some dirt on what’s going down. Besides lip rocks.

—–

“I dreamed last night,” began weight challenged Gabriel again, “that the Fissure was a great mouth, trying to tell us something. You know, that rock in the middle, that pillar, was the tongue.”

“We Camptons like to call it *Fracture*, reiterated Jed across from him for the hundredth time. It was a great debate: Fracture or Fissure. Another one of those split worlds, like we’ve seen with continental names Maebaelia or Satori. Another of those South-North separations, even. Because the South side of the Fissure, Camptons included, preferred Fracture, while the North side — Gabriel, et al. — preferred the obverse. One could *observe*, from above, the mouth speaking, true. Breaking away from Gabriel’s glare, Jed allowed him to continue his story, name problem set aside for the moment. “Alright,” he encouraged. “Go ahead.”

Duncan listened carefully from a nearby chair as the fourfold truth was told about the sim.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, The Waste^^

Gaston = NYC (among other things)

The Lord balancing Sugar Houses.

We know this is “Abbey Road”.

And that something is definitely going on at the Rhino along it (portal).

We know a lot about this place by now. This Gaston. But we haven’t quite grasped the story within the story. Is there one? That’s what I’m aiming to find out.


“We’ll have to kill him.”

Zach’s still waiting for Georgie Porgie and Heidi Widey to emerge from the Joint Joint. He fears the worse. He’s been there for 2 days now. But he’ll wait till The End.

What really is at the end of Abbey Road?

Where have all the Berries gone? Where’s Sugar Dumpling? Where’s… Jacob I.?

We know it is a place to hide (Hidden Vilage). Hitgal represents someone.


“But… what’s you think?”

Why the doubling with the Vilania safe hub? Why can’t Hank Graphite get back there instead of here?


“It wasn’t suppose to be this way.”

Why flies in Central Park of all places?

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, Gaston^^

scarlet

“Do you think I’m pretty, Jim A. *Sorry* — Jim B. I did it again.”

“You *did* do it again,” spoke Jim B. from the bed. “You’re *always* doing that. There never *was* a Jim A. It’s *B*. Always was, always will be.”

“Jim Brown,” Your Mama pronounces the name fully. “But you didn’t answer me. Do you think I’m beautiful?”

“That’s not what you asked,” Jim B. answers, tightening the noose around his neck. Definitely not a nouse. Definitely not Jim A.

Later…

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^

more

“We made it Brother Amos,” spoke Gabby, who had barely stopped talking during their whole trip down from Toppsity. “*Twin* brother Amos,” he declared. “Fellow Gemini; no doubting of that. Now all we have to do is find non-twin and non-Gemini Brother Keith B. and save him from The Shallows.”

“Where he’ll be murdered,” clarifies Brother Amos from his own bike.

“Killed at the very least,” supplied Gabby Truth, who always tells. “Hills. Of Bill. Keep him out.”

“Keep him out,” echoes Amos, almost as excited as Gabby about finally arriving in half empty or half full (take your pick) Cassandra City. It was not the destination they had planned for their escape. Not atall. Golden Sink… or even further north, had always been tops on the list. Maybe the Lake District. But something told them to turn left (south) instead of right (north) when leaving their cursed home village via Route 8.

“The 4 colored clown and her monochromatic opposum must be here,” Gabby spoke, half in a scrying trance; not unusual. “Soon at the very least.”

“Okay.”

The brothers got off their bikes and locked them up with the rest already on the rack. Jim’s and Todd’s. Jenny and Keith had come by bus. Tillie and Tealy were walking. Cindy A., perhaps the last to arrive but also perhaps the first, came or comes by plane. Wealthier than the rest she is. Later: the poorest of them all, sometimes not even being able to afford to walk. One or perhaps even two more by boat. Identity or identities yet to be determined. Maybe the Bishop and his center-no-more King. Let’s see, who else? Craighead Phillips seems trapped walking around another half empty, half full (again, take your pick) Bluefield city in West Virginia, Real Life, USA, so he may not be a candidate. Besides, he may not even be born yet, since we’re in the past, before Jenny became Your Mama (for example). Tracy Austin appears similarly stuck around the Blue Feather Sea, another BLUEF (since the variant name is Bluefeather, pronounced BLU-fe-ter by some). But, again, it perhaps doesn’t matter since she may also not be born. Think that about covers it. Oh, I guess I should explain more about the Man About Time/Marcus Fox Smart/Professor Suckaluck triangle. But I might not have time tonight. Have to get to Tillie and Tealy!

—–

“What are you doing?” Tillie questioned her fellow, colorful travel mate.

“Calisthenics. What does it look like?”

Tillie faces the yawning gap again. “Yes,” she agreed, pondering doing some stretches herself. “Looks like we have a longer journey than anticipated.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, Cassandra City, Maebaleia/Satori^^

Jacksboro

Somewhat later, a tall, blue-ish gnome approached the side of the sunken pool from around one of the two giant cylinder rocks there, telling respectively swimming and sunbathing Woody and Wheeler he dug it. His name: Salazar, according to the object’s description. Beside him, a shorter, similarly red capped gnome protested Linden tier gauging, a subject reviewed in a post earlier this month by Baker Bloch to “newbie” Grassy Noll. I don’t know what the policeman has to do with any of this. Maybe he’s policing the protester?

Who lives in the nearby lemony VWX dust bunny fairy house remains a mystery. I don’t think it’s Salazar nor the other gnome, nor the policeman. Someone else.

Wait. I’m picking up something. A person named Jack lives there. Pretty sure of that.

So many Jacks, though, to choose from.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, Lower Austra, Nautilus^^

church (Eotia Village)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sherwood_Anderson

Four[5] or five[6] years were spent in Caledonia, years which formed Anderson’s earliest memories. This period later inspired his semi-autobiographical novel Tar: A Midwest Childhood (1926).[7] In Caledonia Anderson’s father began drinking excessively, which led to financial difficulties, eventually causing the family to leave the town.[7]

“That’s an interesting story, Zoidboro. But I thought it was Caledon.”

Again with the smarts, Zoidboro ponders. What was it now, 8 1/2 months? 8 3/4ths? Better get to the caves asap. “Cale*don*ia,” he emphasizes to his pregnant male friend. “It would be Caledon if told from their perspective, but this is through the eyes of Rosehaven. The Princess ruler, to be specific. Soon to be Queen now that the father is dead. And the mother remains in her grave.”

“So…,” Patrick Starr tries to reason, “… Caledon, I mean, *Rosehaven* is way over here.” He moves his right hand far to the right. “And The Waste, *our* home, is way over here.” The left hand goes more left.

“But brought together by the Oracle,” states Zoidboro, shifting slightly on the bed to peer at the strangely colored 8 ball in the middle of the table to one side. “Tiger,” he completes, noting the residual “stripes”.

“I suppose.” Patrick retracts both hands, sits up, and holds his bloated stomach. “Oh, I felt a kick!”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, Caledonia^^, End of Time^^

another angle

Roger Pine Ridge kept looking at the flickering white glow beneath the water that he knew was Anton. Shoes stolen; mission accomplished. Like finding the ruby slippers of Oz, he thought. Anorexia’s gonna be pissed off as hell.

He looked over at the green robed woman beside him, face harshly illuminated by the glare of the flashlight she held. Scars. “I’m just waiting for the significant other to finish up inside,” he explained from his chair. “How about you?”

—–

Cyberpaperdoll walks out of Fae’s Boat House with 50,000 lindens in hand.

“Come on, Biker,” she said just above a whisper toward the closest Pine Ridge chair. “Time to go.”

“Don’t forgot to sign the guestbook out there!” Jim the Pirate Bartender called from within, a request they most definitely ignored while leaving.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0507, Nautilus City, Nautilus^^