Category Archives: 0510


She looked at the object that allowed them to be caught in the presents. Not working any more, thus: stuck.

“Sister of mine, why don’t you come over and join me again.”

“I’m *not* your sister. Get that through your skull.”

“Of course you are. We have the same mother. 1/2 sister, granted. But siblings still to a 1/2 degree.” He patted the spot beside him, just below the non-blue ball. “Come.”

Xia sighed (Xia?). “Okay, but I’m only *1/2* enjoying it. My other hemisphere will be dwelling on the fish and its ultimate meaning. Why the floppy tail on the roof? That sort of stuff. In fact — just forget the whole thing. I have more important things to do.”

“Like what?” he asked innocently.

“I think I just told you.”

“You told me nothing. Tale to tell? That is vacant words.” Xia, he contemplated himself. Short for Xian, as in Christian? Interesting twist if so. He’ll have to ask their, after all, church abiding mother the next time he returns home. Hopefully with Xia in tow. But the whole breaking of the portal. How to *fix*??

Maybe that’s why they got so strongly into this whole TILE religion thingy — drew them to the island in the first place. “Take us where we ultimately belong,” they ask the magical portal that fateful day in May’s June far away. It was, of course, working at the time. Another property of the mother. Or maybe — the father. That might explain a lot. Dark Lord.

“Xia,” he spoke over to the pretty elf still fiddling with the object. At least she’s gotten the lights and sound to kind of work on it again. “Tell me about your name.”

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0510, Constantynople, Nautilus, Wild West

inside 03

The housing village I have to pass through to get to Pink Peak (changed from Red Hill or Pink Mtn.!) contains some ridiculously high retaining walls, Medieval style even.

At the start of the best, actual path up the mtn. is what I call the Graveyard, full of holes like this.

On the upper edge of the Graveyard we encounter Turnup Rock, which indicates that the path has changed direction and is turning up the mtn. instead of continuing around it at a more level ascent. In the future, this appellation might naturally degenerate into Turnip Rock, and then explorers and researchers of the peak might wonder why it is named so, since it’s quite block-like and looks actually not very much at all like some kind of fruit or vegetable.

Beyond the mtn.’s front ridge lies what I’m deeming Vineland, a microcosm which could have an interesting story of its own. The path I’ve picked out passes through its upper reaches.

Far side of Vineland. The woods clear out substantially after this

At the top now. Closeup of that kid’s cat themed sleeping bag, which I then hauled from next to Turtle Head and dumped over the bank of a nearby dirt road just to get it out of sight and mind.

I explored the all the rocks of the top pretty extensively this day, perhaps my main mission. Nothing as odd as Turtle Head and Campfire Rock already discussed here, but below is pictured one of the larger and more interesting of the rest, complete with defining orange fungii that I couldn’t find anywhere else.

Descending directly down from the top to go back, uncovered this rock that seemed to have tumbled against an already mature tree. Mostly likely illusion. What else is not what it seems on this clearly magical mountain now called a peak? Maybe won’t reach it again for a couple of days. And I’m still waiting to hear from Mountain Man, who I gave my email address to about 2 weeks back now, the start of all this. He has some art and writing he needs to share with me fer sure (!). Trouble is, he doesn’t have easy access to a computer. Hope I haven’t already lost contact with him!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0037, 0510, Blue Mountain, Red Hill

numbers 02

Shelley’s head appeared directly below where Barry DeBoy should have been fishing on the pier. But it appears he’s wised up, dispensed with his pole, and headed back to the studio, realizing the futility of the act (once more). Ant may even be his best friend again, at least in his mind. And of course there’s Hucka. How much woman is she? Enough to roar?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0510, Corsica, Northwest^

Still in Gemini…

“Yeah, I don’t actually *live* in a receiver or am the *same* as a receiver. I don’t know what got that notion into your head. And I even have a pretty modern (phone), cell and all. I can even look up things on the Interwebs with it, like the difference between a mouse and a dormouse. Just doing that–”

“Fascinating,” Marilyn playing Lichen Roosevelt said on the other end, a word she just heard on TV. “I only thought,” she defended her logic, “you know, like Paul Warfield.”

“Paul Whatfield?”

“Never mind.” She backed out of Miami back into Cleveland. “Jim Brown,” she blurted out to her surprise. “Jim *L.* Brown, not the other one, the twin.”

“What about James?” replied Claude the Receiver. This was old school talk, like high school. He’d left all that behind in joining the University of Life here in 1000 City, or so it was advertised. 4 more years to go, a long long 4 years, with debt mounting up each semester he stays. He’s learning about the birds and bees this morning from old Ms. Crumplebottom, facing away from him and preparing to add information about flowers and trees and the Moon up above into the overall equation, like work clothes. Whatever, it all ends with Love. He wonders how she can remember back that far; all the parts must be long broken down there. But I suppose there’s always heart.

“Cartoons,” said Marilyn, surprising herself again. “Jem. Jemini.”

“Jemilly Johnson? What about *her*?” Claude was getting impatient. He didn’t want to miss any nuances from the lessons. One flower appears, then another and another. A tree with a massive trunk shoots up from their midst. And between the boughs near the top as the stars come out: The Moon. Where did The Sun go? he had to ask himself.

“Um, uh,” delayed Marilyn. “We have a situation,” she decided to say instead of answering Claude directly. “Just get down here. On your lunch break if needed. What time is school over, actually?”

Claude mentally checked his schedule. 1 o’clock: Mixing Business with Pleasure, 2: The Overarching Problems of Time and Money Inevitably Leading to Brain Damage, then at 3, oh he’s finished at 3. He says this to Marilyn. The Musician is paying his bill and about ready to leave. Marilyn looks at the wonky grandfather clock on the far wall between Biff and Albert. 4 more hours! How is she going to keep them all here together until the Receiver comes. Alcohol of course, for The Musician at least. And free tea for the teetotalers over there at the crazy table. She offers George another one on the house.

“Gee thanks!” he says, sitting back down. His gig is not till 7. He has the time and the money to kill more brain cells.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0510, Gemini, Hana Lei^^


Silentghost sure is pretty, thought Liz from her meditating position, curious but not looking over again. They were talking about rumps before, she heard — that’s the word they used for it after she showed up, materializing from where Wheeler stood just prior. “I better get back to my Newt,” she heard her say, like waking up from a dream, “and you better get back to your Liz,” she spoke to Shelley just before vanishing. So here she is. Pauline Silentghost warmed to her quickly. “You will stay here with me for a while,” she said. “I’ll teach you much about Nautilus, both the shell and the continent. Shelley too — no accident about her name there — and also, also…”

“Wheeler?” Liz offered in the gap. Pauline Silentghost had been having trouble saying that name ever since Reno. Shot a man just to watch him die, she’d heard, or at least the Wilson version of her did, the male aspect. Black and white, on and off, dead and alive even. Liz had answers, Liz was gifted. Just like her Mom.


“Whatcha doing future child of mine?”


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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0510, AF Subcontinent, Sansara

Aloha (Aloha?) and thereabouts

Empty throne. Note the also newly placed female green Mmmmmm to its right, controversial in the news recently for so-called “reverse sassification.”

Who lives here?

Remarkably, I saw a garter snake sunning itself between these 2 spoons in the dirt today at nearby what-I-call Lineboro (photo from about 2 weeks ago).

I know this fellow!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0510, Blue Mountain, City Park, Mmmmmm's, Toy Avatars


“So you see, Man About Town–”

“Time. Man About Time,” MAT mildly corrected.

“Yes, of course. Anyway, we don’t need to be a part of Lower Austra. We are more than capable of protecting ourselves with our large ships, *huge* in the case of the Pompelmoo here.”

“I see.” Indeed this particular boat stretched from one corner of the namesake sim to the other, darn near close to 400 meters total then.  MAT admittedly couldn’t wait to explore it more, along with the rest of the island, this Trinidad? “Did you say the name of your island here was Trinidad?” he tried to clarify.

It took Zapppa back, to when he first found the island himself. A lone painter was there. Rock painter, before they moved all the rocks to make room for the ships. Named the Captain but not because he was a naval hero or anything. Jon Carson tried to get to the bottom of it, my mate in the tiny “Annoying ZZ Mat” that made the trip from Nautilus City to the southeast, he reminisced. *Barely*. Almost sunk along the way. “Sink Sank Sunk” we nicknamed it after that, because it produced the same results over time. And now I’m with a man named Time. Funny how things go in a big circle — MAT again and all too. He’s finding out himself how special this island is. “Trinidad?” he finally answered. “Well, that depends.” It’s the same thing the Captain said all those years ago.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0510, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Trinidad


Still relevant!

More soon…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0510, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

pulling a Rundgren

She listened to Keith B.’s drumming, trying to determine whether it was ultimately soothing or just irritating. Somewhere in the middle, as a lot of stuff is, she thought. He hadn’t answered her earlier question about what he found out at the ranger’s station this morning; dodged the question in fact, it seemed to her. Just started drumming after lunch. Drumming and drumming. Her right hand wanted to clap, but her left hand wanted to slap.

“I — feel — so — *young*!” he called over.

Pheh, she thought, not noticing the difference while looking away. Might as well still be peeing in his outhouse.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0510, Paper, Paper Soap

Hookton Hill

Lengthening their draw distance a bit as Keith B. recommended, they both stared out at Clarksey from this low granite summit to the north.

“It’s big, Shelley.”

“Jennifer,” she corrected.

“It’s big, Jennifer,” he began again, then backtracked a bit to “…biggish”. “Ambitious,” he started once more.

“I get the picture.”

“It’ll get more people.”

“Hmm,” she declared. “How many now?”

“Five, I think. Wait: four. Clovis fell into the gorge the other day. Decided it was too dangerous to stay what with his drinking problem. Flew away from Enceladus day before yesterday. You just missed him over there, then.”

“Nice people over there,” she replied. “This one guy, Marion Harding, a Cowboy, even offered to drive me over here from the airport.”

“Who was the pilot?”

She wanted to say Indian but she knew that wasn’t possible. Indian was her brother — 1/2 brother — from another mother. Like Rose — full siblings those two were. “Can’t remember,” she decided to utter, trying to mask the hesitation. Memory gap! ‘Nother one.

“Did anyone follow you?” Strange question from her old Papa. But there *was* someone, someone black. Check that: someone named Black. A, um, black man. Doubly black.

“No,” she issued. “No one. Strange question from you actually.” She took drama in high school. She could still act a bit if necessary. But she’s remembering (!). A trio of men: Cowboy, Indian, Black. And behind them: still fuzzy. Maybe someone named… Frank?

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0510, Purden/Snowlands^, Sansara