Wait… something *is* being etched in stone. Let’s see…, um…
Category Archives: 0509
32
I’d moved on. The library that use to be in this place: no more. A gap instead. 31 increased by 1.
All because I pressed the button.
Or not.
I sometimes dream about the Blue Boy. Or someone like him. Verbally abusive, but not really on purpose or intentionally. Just part of the overall dense atmosphere. Yes, dense. Bad juju I suppose. Like Earth itself in a way, in a manner; one blue thing becomes the other and visa versa; interpenetrating. I nibble around on the periphery now. I think he understands.
I call them out and they back off. All is well.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0509
00460509 (manifestation/ acquiring a name)
Mysterious, blood red sky…
… continued…
… and then a “dandelion” of all things.
—–
“What are these mysterious *seeds* floating in front of me. And… who *am* I??”
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0046, 0509, VOTV, Witcher
00450509 (25?)
Banned from my Nautilus homeland by an overprotective mother fearful of stalkers, suitcase in hand I walk just outside its boundaries and set my eyes and aim on the fabled wall city of Perch-Mistletoe just yonder up on that beige ridge, with half banned itself (Perch?) but the other 1/2 free to roam (Mistletoe?) and even live within as I currently understood the situation. But I ended up going further — to Yd Island in the sw of the continent and revisiting another sacred place that seems untouched and uneroded by the sands of time. That of the Ratzenburger Rabbit, one of my own. I get ahead of myself. I have to talk about Lexi front and center.
She drives up on her rough sounding, rough looking motorcycle basically at the beginning of my journey and soon we’ve joined forces in her quest to find what she simply called The One. “Wanna explore some haunted houses?” she propositions not far into the conversation. Why not? I thought. I have nothing to kill but time.
We started with the one with the barrel. Just on the opposite side of P-M from us. “Just ignore that giant candy sentry over there,” she said as we positioned ourselves a safe distance away from it. “He can’t see you unless you’re standing right under him. Learned that the hard way.” On my part, I was more worried about the suddenly darkness and the need for a flashlight to explore. This didn’t seem like a good omen but too late to back out. I consoled myself by saying that I’d be in the free part of Perch-Mistletoe by dawn’s early light, sleeping under a pagoda or something. Just over there beyond the wall.
And, yep, there was a barrel inside. Lexi seemed relieved that it “mostly contained–,” in her own words, seeming to break off at the end. Mostly contained *what?* I automatically thought upon hearing it. Finish your sentences please.
And then a little later the same thing came up. Pattern.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0509, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe
00440509 (LOST no more (therapy))
“Eat Jack Sheepe power you loser!”
—–
“When I started mowing down pedestrians with my souped up riding lawn mower made from discarded plane parts, I knew I had to change or else face the consequences, like felony charges. That’s when I decided to become a leader rather than a follower. Else the pent up anger would keep resurfacing. I had to find my true potential.”
“Good, Jack. Good to get this out. We’re making so much progress today.”
“Well thanks, Clyde. Nice to see my big bucks I’m forking out to you are finally paying off, ha ha.”
“Riight. So let’s go back to the beginning (again). The vineyard. When did you return?”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0509, GTA
00430509 (Elizabeth)
“Never mind the dead guy,” she said remotely to me when I reached the bottom of the pit. “That’s another story — we know that one already. Like Philip’s. Instead: focus on the hand.”
I looked around, turned on the thermal level. Grasping obviously, since the hand had been severed from its owner for, what was it, *67* years. Nothing detected except for the nearby, much fresher flesh. Silly to try. But there were rumors that the hand was alive separate from the body. Thanks to the ring. I tried another tack, a more sensible one. Gold detection through my Midas Ability mod (Thanks Rosebud1941!). Handy for creeks up in the hills, handy for here pardon the pun. I’d made a small fortune in combination with my exploring skills. Surprised more people don’t try their hand at it (sorry again!). But no gold detected in the area. This was all so much trash. I’d run out of my few options. Except, hmm, for one other long shot…
1/2way back to the top, we met up in person again across a dangerous, last gap. “Did you find it? We lost contact when you started digging around the bottom. Probably damaged the receptor on some metal or something.”
“Probably,” I said back. Radiation. Who would have thunk except for someone with a uranium ring already in their possession. Me. I stashed it up the only safe place I could think of at the time, pretending to have a sudden itch in that area. My bunghole, ow ow ow. “Uranus” for uranium, I thought with a painful, secret smile.
Saying I’d found nothing while clinching my sphincter more tightly than ever, I took a final leap…
Made it!
actual museum this time
I wondered why these two little figures of the same person were running around a Kangerootown table under the watching eyes of two looming rabbit creatures.
Then when I found two normal sized figures of the same in a nearby fort, my interest was really piqued. The name of the object was Magnum, created by Magnum Yoshikawa, obviously a self image of sorts.
His profile picks quickly led me to this shop in Kowloon’s Gate City, one of the most notable locations in all of Our Second Lyfe. Places like this are a big reason I keep hanging around the game. 🙂
His created museum there was *big*. Then around the corner…
Ah hahaha. Mr. Price! Well, the same Real Life guy who *plays* my Grant Price who is actually called Freddy Price. You remember, the guy who guards Bull’s Bar and is now the same or has incorporated the figure of Gray Man from the LSD Dream Emulator game. I’d be insulted if you forgot *that*.
This find certainly acts as inspiration. I must locate this “Greg” avatar if possible and purchase!
Reference video here, perhaps the best one about Second Life® ever made and certainly the funniest I would imagine. And the best video by the prolific auteur Mr. Moon period as far as I’ve been able to check, the Freddy Price ones included (although they’re very very funny in stretches too).
More on this soon (!).
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0509, GTA, Kangerootown, Kowloon^^, Omega^^, The Cross^
00410509
“I came here looking for ship parts. Maybe even a whole ship. Instead I found an X. X marks the spot.”
“You’re in over your head,” she said back, the first female salvage related person he’d met. And the 1st person of color, period. She rezzed in to help, to be truthful. RDBH had the perfect angle for an opening shot. He didn’t want to mess it up.
“Or a spot marked by an X,” he changed the wording of his former sentence. Now that she had come he could look down.
Ah yes, a bunch of stuff named Mare: cigarettes, beer, ‘nother different kind of beer. “Why are you running an, er, eatery stand? Salvage person.”
“I have to make ends meet,” she said plainly, matter-of-factly. “Else how could I offer goofy looking scavengers like you such good prices, eh?”
RDBH looked over, took her in better. Pretty face. Jewels on head and body. Attractive. But the prices were still too expensive. More than one way to skin a cat? “What’s your name, dear?”
“Pearl. Black Pearl most call me. To differentiate from other types of pearls: grey, white, so on.”
“Black Pearl,” he parroted back, making the birds on his shoulders share a smile. He seemed to have heard the name before. But where?
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0509, Mountain Lake^, Omega^^
00400509
She changes into her true form to better convince the youth.
“Carrcassonnee,” he said, still looking her over, noticing the lack of “junk”, for instance. “I can’t believe it’s really you. After all these years!” But then he remembers he’s not his father. He’s just having memories of his father — happens sometimes. This is what you get for being estranged. Confusion at times. Who is who and such. “I mean, after all this time about my *father* talking about you, heh heh.” Nervous laughter to end. He gazes up at the single eye. What did it see, what did it read? His soul?
“Iiiiiiii…,” she said. “Iiiiiiiiiiiii…”. She tries to start again. “Iiiiiiii–”
Bart cuts her short. “Yes, I *heard* that you’re having problems starting again. Like an old car that’s been sitting in a field for a while or something. I believe that’s how my father once described you. But at one time–”
“Iiiiiiii…” she said again. “haaaaaaavee…” she continued. “Newwwws,” she said better.
Silence for a while as the boy absorbed this. Carrcassonnee speaks! “Welll… go ahead,” he encourages, thinking of his father once more. The Tin Woodsman, he picked up on in his psychic way. My father’s old friend; he’s returned!
“Iiiiiiii…” started Carrcassonnee again, understanding the message had been received, “… can take youuuu… to himm.”
“Cool!” And so they set off, across the land and then across the sea. Out of the southeast corners and into the real world.
“Whoa whoa there, Carrcassonnee. Slow down boy, er, girl.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0509, Bellisaria, Oz, Sirens Isles
I’m going to figure this out.
Why was he painting the roses red? It should have been white to cover up his mistakes. Yet Willa Wonky died and he has blood on his hands… and arms and chest and face and so on. No going back. He ate the chocolate.
An image flashed in his mind from the past. Wheeler did too! Or was it Shelley?
Anyway, suddenly everything switches with this and he’s painting red roses white instead of the other way around. Willy Wonka lives!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0509, Hana Lei^^, Heterocera
Sunklands 