Let’s see. I’ve used blue, light blue and blue-violet for Jeogeot locations so far — Nawt Vaya, Rodentia, and then NWES Cy. out on the western coast. Violet is next for its Korean Channel? How about blue-gray?
Category Archives: 0508
00490508 (decision for 00490402)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0508, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NWES Island, Xilted
00480508
“And so you see you couldn’t help your father because there’s nothing wrong with me and everything wrong with him. So you were right to run him over in your car while the old fool stood helplessly exposed in the middle of Route 9 over there. Like you hit him with a bullet in the past in, what was it, 1785?”
“More like the late 1800s I think,” said Alice Tart to her mother Wheeler Wilson, finally together for that talk about the recently deceased Mouse. Overdue, as are a lot of things in life. Better attend to the important stuff before death.
“I– met the town leader I think,” she then revealed, “this Rodentia of the continent of Jeogeot of the metaverse of Our Second Lyfe,” she expanded needlessly. Like assigning a particular color to white.
“Oh. The male?”
“Yeah, the embodiment thereof.”
“What was he like?” said the curiously non-surprised Wheeler at this turn. She knew that behind the female there’s always a male, often in the same body whether virtual or real, or figuratively if not literally as was the case here.
“What you would suspect, I suppose. A big rat, but with brown markings on top of the white. Add in a bit of color.”
“Chocolate to vanilla,” said Wheeler, translating hues into flavors. “What did you say to… this rat?”
“I confessed *everything*. He seemed very pleased. I supposed I owed him that, using his town, his *female* half, for a good number of posts already. He kind of trapped me in retrospect, drew me to the assembly hall that was his sanctuary. So I just explained everything.”
“Pleased, you say?” Wheeler takes another puff of her cigarette. She’d already offered one to daughter Alice who refused. I wonder if she– no, can’t be. Can it?
“Yeah, pleased. He’s probably still over there if you want to pay him a visit. Checking… checking… yeah, green dot still there. He’s waiting for us… when the time comes.”
“When the time comes,” echoes Wheeler then inhales more smoke. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0508, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot
31
“Go ahead. Press it. It’s okay; I’m okay with it now. You’ll be fiiiinne.
“I just wanted to tell you that.
“Go ahead. Presss itt. I’m… okay with it now.
“Go ahead.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0508
00460508 (The Burg)
Downtown.
Uptown.
Midtown. Center Core. Between two highways, raised and ground level. Busy both. Much noise to drown out things like gun shots, knife wounds, screams in the night. Perfect place to crawl in and die.
Wheeler watches while James practices his graffiti once more, his final testimony. She still doesn’t know his name. Maybe never will now. Will again, as in his.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0508, Jeogeot, The Burg+
00450508
I decided to skirt this arid seeming patch of land a rather large group of buildings nevertheless exists within, not trusting if the ground was toxic or not by the looks of it. While doing so, I fantasized about an imbalance of dry vs. wet, and that this place was a barren wasteland because another neighborhood, perhaps even far far away, became too wet and exotic at the same “time” (quote unquote, because time does not really exist). I found my thoughts becoming weirder as I trodded across this flat flat terrain. How would it end? Perhaps badly, very much so. Yet I had to keep going, nay, I was *commanded* to march forward by powers still unknown. But I had hatched some plans for remedying that. I had to become a *power* myself. God-like.
20 minutes later I stared down at the canal I was walking along and realized how alone I was in this world. Only Me Myself and I around — the Holy Triad — and only 1 of those counted for anything. Yes I needed to consolidate my power. Become all supreme, all knowing.
50 minutes later brought me to Fred (sheep). Fred had a *lot* to say to me; said he’d been lonely too standing in this field of corn without any company for the longest time. He opined strongly about The Netherlands’ economy, saying it was a world heavyweight in comparison to the actual size of the land. 131st in size (among world counties), 2nd in agricultural exports, he proclaimed proudly around the midpoint of our lengthy discourse, which, when checking later, I found to be absolutely correct according to 2020 estimates. I guess Fred would know, living in this country and grazing amongst its agricultural products like this corn all his live long life. We exchanged email addresses and promised to try to keep in touch before I moved on, bound and determined to reach the se corner of Holland by part 10 or at least part 11 of my journey.
A little over an hour later I entered this grassy field dotted with poppies (*not* tulips) and spotted Fred again, even though he had to have been miles away before. “Told you I’d stay in touch!” he yelled at me when I approached. I decided that I needed to call Lester, let Fred talk to *him* to see what he had to say. But all Lester heard was baa-ing of course. I needed that sanity check.
(to be continued)
00440508
“My first real gig as an owner of a business actually came through the vineyard. I bought out the O’Neill Brother’s crop dusting business when 2/3rds of them died in that unfortunate fire which destroyed their family home, including the only 2 of the 3 who could actually fly a plane. Like me. Only later did I learn the true culprit behind the tragedy.”
“So… you knew how to fly a plane?”
“Yeah. Learned it from my 2 uncles growing up in Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina.”
“Interesting.”
“Isn’t it? Anyway, Martha — the owner of the vineyard at the time — said to come by every week to douse the vines with a special herbal pesticide she concocted herself, just like those O’Neill brothers did before me, and be sure to leave by 3, or else take a break at 2:45 and don’t resume until 3:15. Else — and the first time she mentioned this she made a throat slitting gesture with her hand and mouth, which of course I took as death. 3 o’clock — death; keep that in mind. But at the time I just took all of this as part of the peculiarities of the old woman and didn’t believe the stuff she was telling me. After all, she had a special recipe for pesticides, you see — a weird-o. But I still didn’t fly at 3. No use taking any chances, I figured. She later revealed that 3 o’clock at night would be bad for me too but didn’t mention it at first because she knew I’d only fly the plane during the day.”
“Why did you call yourself Jack Sheepe in those days?” he asked, thinking of the hanger and its sign. “Instead of Jack Shepherde, like you are now — like the LOST guy? But, let me guess: because you view yourself as a *leader* now, and not a follower. You changed the name to show this.”
“Correct. Do you even need me here? Sounds like you could have done this interview by yourself (!).”
“No, I need you here,” he says with no humor. “Now. Let’s talk about the move to the big city, how that came about.”
“First there was a detour. Through Christianity.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0508, GTA, Oregon
00430508 (inversions)
“Of course I’m not going to take that playdoll on a world tour, Mysti. You *are* Mysti? Aren’t you?”
“You can call me that if you wish,” V admitted. She’s become the person she should have listened to and heeded most. The Devil is in the cards. She glances over at the golden gun beside her again, knowing it was almost the end.”
“No no, I’ve put that bogus world behind me, that bogus adventure. Like I said, it looks nice in comparison to 1998 and Omikron and all, but–”
“Jonny,” V Mysti requested, wanting to enjoy the cityscape from the rooftop while she could. “No more talking please.”
And shortly after that it was over.
—–
In another ending, she appears before non-suicidal V as normal as normal could be in this dark dark world, tribute to “Bladerunner”‘s Pris played by Darryl Hannah back in the day put behind her as she moves to an ancient forest region of Poland to start a new life, ditching Nightsity just like Lexi wanted to. Before she found the Ditch. Was this the right thing to do?
—–
“Something over there to the right, Lexi. Can you see it?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0508, C2077, Kabusie, NIGHTSITY, Small China
00420508
Damn. Wrong turn again! she thought. *There’s* Newt’s Victorian townhouse. Just gotta find the in-between path now to the bar, pheh.
Newt watched her once more from his downstairs computer desk, even though he was on the wrong side of the house this time. The *right* side of the wall, though. Outside.
The Natural World.
This was big, he knew. Very big.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0508, Big Woods, Bright Moon Cottage, Jeogeot, LSD, Natural World, Violence District
00410508
One needed parts and the other ran a salvage yard so it seemed these 2 characters pirated from other lands should get together.
“Flying ship, eh?” said one to the other. He turns. “What do you need? A propeller?”
“A crew, actually,” said Red Dead Beardy Head who we just met in that last post here, throwing a monkey wrench and all into our dialog. Building a space ship he is. Looks like a sea ship. Might be both. “I want to re-crew-t you.”
“Me?” Nick turns back to the bar, thinks about ordering another mug of Carribean White Rum from green haired Marcia with this. We’re from different lands, he ponders, *rival* lands. “You’re talking crossover here, you know.” He let the statement hang in the air, then: “You understand the consequences.”
“Yup.” One of the two parrots on his shoulders said, “Crossover, *squawk*” and the other said, “Consequences, *squawk*”.
The 3rd reddish parrot on the barrel beside him said nothing, biding his time. He was waiting for Nick’s 3rd line. It never came; Nick got up intending to leave this small parcel next to a road on the Corisca continent, never to return. Then he realized that Red Dead Beardy Head was the one who had to leave the property to properly end the scene, since he was the visitor. Embarrassed — turning red himself — he sat back down.
“Forget where you were, *who* you were?”
“Yup.”
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0508, Corsica, RDR2, Storybrook-
00400508
In her mind, the 3 within settled down and organized themselves, Marsha “Pink” Krakow on top and up front again. As such, she approaches the effigy of the crocogator in the southeast corner of Sirens Isle.
“I was wrong to seek the treasure in the sea, Carrcassonnee (she says her true name). Nothing but pyrite here.”
But then she spied the handy teleporter next to the false treasure chest and was lured away again.
MEANWHILE…
The crocogator takes to the land and moves inside a different southeast corner to give Bart the news.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0508, Bellisaria, New Eden-, Sirens Isles
Sunklands 