I am far away from you now.
But I will return.
Category Archives: 0602
00480602 (Alabama Phoenix)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0602, Alabama, C2077, Small China, Starfield
00470602
He’d fallen off the ladder 5x now trying to reach his new Newtown apartment. And that girl in the window giggling at him all along. That’s *it*, he said to himself while landing on the ground again then dusting himself off while rising — unharmed of course, because no fall will ever hurt you in Our Second Lyfe, no matter from what height. At least the way it *should* be designed, with everyone always playing in God Mode. Let’s hope that doesn’t change too. But he’s fed up with the situation. He decides then and there that he can’t stay in Newtown, no matter how cheap Rag Doll’s provided rental unit is. It just doesn’t fit. He has to go… home.
He teleports one last time into the sparse white 3rd story apartment, doors to a small bathroom and bedroom on the left. Unfurnished except for a dresser and that old couch over there, and heck if he’s gonna try to lug Wheeler’s 16 prim canopy bed up that gall blasted ladder, pheh. Maybe they can rent a crane; that would take care of the piano too. But — NO. He’s decided.
He moves toward the window, watches a grocer finish unloading his truck of supplies while a similarly colored woman beside him tends to her crying baby. Nice view from here, he admits. Hmm.
He settles back on the pretty comfy couch, choosing to read a bit of daughter Shelley’s newly published novel called “The Hmm” he just received today in the, er, mail before making a *final* final decision. He’s glad he did. Because he’s in it… making that final final decision.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0602, Jeogeot, Newtown
00460602
She was already on her 3rd coffee and 4th Blue Moon single of the day. From her solo period of course. She doesn’t like the Cracks, her old group, nearly as much, prefix them with US, UK or any other country — doesn’t matter. But her solo period, especially after the suicide/murder attempt (another reader’s choice): primo. Pure punk while also somehow remaining pure pop, unholy yet uncannily successful marriage of the two. She takes another sip while she listens to another tasty lick from the guitar of none other than Cary E., soon to be known as Car E. and then just CARE w/ all caps, logical terminus reached on the name transmutation process. Formerly of Sunamai of course, helping out Blue Moon on this particular track called “No More Big Leagues,” a minor hit that kicks off her first solo album “Louisville Cardinals” — playing on the fact that the state of Kentucky contains no actual big league baseball team unlike neighboring Ohio with its Cincinnati Reds and Cleveland Indians and likewise neighbor Missouri with its own double team pairing of St. Louis Cardinals and Kansas City Royals. But believe me, don’t let the name fool you, she imagines saying to her brother Ted, more fond of the Cracks (a Crackhead of course): the album is definitely big leagues, and she then imagines herself laughing at his irritation to this statement of fact. “Johnny Rose Bench” is also a pretty well known love ballad from side two. And of course there’s “Elvis Esley.” Or Isley — no one really knows which except Blue Moon herself and she’s not saying.
The old timey dial telephone rings beside her. Probably station manager Marty, she reasons, calling to complain that I’m playing too much Kentucky and to cool it with the Blue Moon. She decides then and there to play the entirety of the the “Louisville Cardinals” album, just not lift the needle off the spinning vinyl record after the first track is done. And maybe play all the rest of her solo work — in order — after that. Take the phone off the hook and just *do* it. She calculates how quickly Marty could get here from Chilbo for the canning.
Can of Worms, yes, she thinks while track 1 ends and track 2 (“St. Louie Blues”) begins. Just like in New York.
(to be continued)
00450602
Just as she was watching someone, someone was watching her.
But she didn’t care. Currently she was spying on what she called The One from the branch of a park tree with Philip, certainly a detour from the town tour she promised. “*Edward*,” she spat out with some vile. “He’s suppose to be forbidden here. She’s *married*, hmph.”
“Lexi, I hate to bring it up but you promised me and Gus that meeting with Frank.”
“Oh Frank can go -f-ck himself,” she rudely declared.
“Oh. Okay.” Philip looked at Gus on his shoulder who, wide-eyed as always through the burning, just peered back wordlessly. Hard to tell if the little fire demon was shocked at the language or not.
“Soooo… who is this again?”
But Lexi suddenly became even more preoccupied. “They better not, no they better not, no no no no NO.” Shelley and Edward looked up from their attempted kiss and scanned the environment, trying to locate the source of the call. But they were deep enough in the foliage not to be spotted. The moment, however, seemed to be ruined. Good, thought Lexi, realizing the same. They’re wrapping things up, it seems, and Edward will go his own way and Shelley her’s.
“So, who’s this couple, then?” Philip tries again, watching them get up off the bench and start moving away from each other. “Edward, you said?”
“And *Shelley*. Yeah, run your cute little ass all the way home, you bitch of a girl. You temptress.”
Philip started to come around to the idea that Lexi and he would maybe be staying together but they wouldn’t be sleeping together. Not in that way. Because this obsession revealed a shells on the other side of the beach scenario. Shells as in Shelley.
“Time to go,” she then said, starting to make her way off the branch and into the park below. Philip followed suit, being careful not to spill Gus in the process. But she wasn’t quite done with Shelley today in April’s May.
“There she goes, Philip. Back into the Tunnel of Love.”
What does *that* mean, Philip thought, but didn’t ask this time. They’d been delayed long enough.
(to be continued)
00440602
“So here we are, Billy. Interior: beyond (The) Wall. Here we’ll find the information we need, I believe.”
“I… believe.”
—–
“Let’s pull in here and get some gas before going further. Don’t want to run out in the middle of the Badlands, ha.”
“Ha (or ho).”
—–
“Let’s now go to that Badlands Grocery Store we saw advertised beside the town welcome sign. We’ll stock up with supplies there, some proper food.”
“1/2 priced yogurt?”
“Perhaps, Billy.” But Fern didn’t think so. Billy would have to get use to more primitive life up here in the Real World, above and beyond the comforts of Our Second Lyfe.
—–
Fern parks the now filled up rental truck in front of the store 2 blocks west of the gas station, as the billboard she saw and memorized earlier indicated. “Keep in mind through all this that we’re looking for something *interior*… to Interior, even,” she said, walking up to the front door. “The town’s name is just a signifier, a pointer.”
Then in synchronicity, Billy points to something in the distance.
“Ball. Silver.”
“Good, Billy. Good.” Fern knew this was just a propane tank seen on edge but Billy was definitely on the right track. Change of perspective. They go inside.
But there was nothing within the grocery store but BLACK, which so happens to be the former name of Interior.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interior,_South_Dakota
In 1891, the former way-station was called Black with Mary Johnson as its first postmaster. In 1893, the town was renamed “Interior” by George Johnson because he did not think the name “Black” fit the description of the White River that surrounded the town.
By losing her vision, Fern had found what she was looking for here. They carefully make their way through the darkness to find the white light.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0602, Google Street View, South Dakota
00430602 (shining)
Baker Bloch stares at Ring Lady in Falmouth collage 07 and decides he must call a town meeting before things progress further. He *rings* up Wheeler, she rings up Hucka who still isn’t really talking to the male Baker. He rings up Newt which is kind of himself — in the same room. He rings up Baker Blinker his original female counterpart and still is in ways. And last: Grassy, representative of all things toys. How exciting to be getting the cores back together, chatting with each other again.
“Status report, Wheeler,” he requests to his right from his seat of power at the Blue Feather Table. “How’s daughter Shelley doing over in Heterocera?”
“Hooktip, right,” Wheeler clarifies. “Well, she’s going back her roots. And, no, before you say it it’s not brunette.”
“I wasn’t going to say that,” says Baker Bloch, serious for tonight’s meeting. Tonight’s important important meeting. Because all of Collagesity Aisle of Palms is at stake.
“Newt. To my left. Hi, first.”
“Hi.”
“We haven’t talked in a while.”
“Since Friday.”
“A year ago, yes.”
“Approximately.”
“How’s *your* daughter doing? Jennifer isn’t it?”
“Shelley,” answers Newt the same as Wheeler. For it is their child. We went over that in novels 34 and also 35. And some in 36-39 as well. Before the Big Change in 40. When Newt points this out, talk shifts to this change.
“40 is where I started reading Dolores Cannon and her Convoluted Universe series,” begins Baker on this new theme. “40 is where, through (the conduit of) Bellissaria, things started to head offworld. And then Aisle of Palms was founded (in 41). Current base; for 1/2 year now. About the last time we talked, Newt.”
“Approximately,” he said again. But what’s time in a town like this?
“So this brings us to the question: What if we just head offworld *permanently*? Exist in Youtube videos about Grand Theft Auto, Red Dead Redemption, and Cyberpunk 2077? Before getting a better computer and purchasing all those games and being able to walk inside them with an actual avatar, mind you. That could take another year. Years. Newt, we may not be talking with each other again until after that decision is made.”
“Fine,” he answered, knowing it didn’t matter in the long run. Baker was him and he was Baker. *All* were Baker. Besides Wheeler, besides Hucka, besides Baker Blinker, Grassy and some other cores. But mainly Wheeler. She was the new female to Baker’s male, the queen to his prime minister (of Aisle of Palms). He holds the power but she holds the jewels. They must be a balance. Newt doesn’t really play a role in this except as an exteriorization of Baker, a way for Wheeler to have a husband and so have Shelley as her child. Married to Arthur Kill still, yes (novel 35), but flirting around with Edward Daigle (37-43). Can the horses keep moving together in the same direction?
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0602, Big Woods, Jeogeot
00420602 (rockstars)
On his days off, Grant (aka *Fred*dy) Price likes to roam the streets of Lost Sanos, sucking up people’s dreams to replenish needed energy for his various security assignments. This unsuspecting guy walks right into it.
Meanwhile, on another planet altogether (most say), Arthur sees horses at the end of a tunnel.
“We got a second one!” shouts Newt from beyond the 4th wall as Arthur reenters the light.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0602, Big Woods, Bright Moon Cottage, GTA, Jeogeot, LSD, Natural World, RDR2
Officer Howard’s wife
—–
“So how did you become an owner of a golf course? Libra is it still? I mean, as of 10 minutes ago?”
Libra aka Bermuda aka Atlantis High Priestess aka some other titles I’m not thinking about in the moment decided to be pretty honest for a change. “It all started when I got some money in St. Dennis.”
“St. Dennis?” replied Red Dead Beardy Head to this, tired of staring at Petty who was their waiter, convinced he is asleep instead of glaring at him. He’d heard of people doing such with their eyes open, and he was correct in this deduction as we’ve seen in an earlier post which this post is a direct continuation of timewise. We’re back with him and Black Pearl, soon to set sail in their sea ship to the outer depths of space, grilling just found Libra Neptune in recently founded Aisle of Palms on the Jeogeot continent of Our Second Life. Libra certainly had a story to tell, with a lot hanging in the balance.
“Money?” Black Pearl continued Red Dead’s line of inquiry. “From whom?”
“First off, let’s drop the pretense. I’m not really Libra. My actual name is Wheeler. I am what you could call a co-owner of this town. I *play* Libra.”
Wheeler let this set in a bit, then added: “Newt is my husband. But Newt is actually Baker Bloch, kind of Baker Bloch’s replacement. We’re king and queen — of sorts again.”
“King…” said Red Dead Beardy Head, utterly confused look on his face.
“… Queen,” continued Black Pearl again for him, just as shocked.
“Yes, that’s right. King and Queen. Of Aisle of Palms. On the Jeogeot continent. Of Our Second Lyfe. But, thing is, St. Dennis is separate from all that. St. Dennis is elsewhere. St. Dennis is (part of) the Shangri-La you seek. And I know the correct way to get us there.”
(to be continued)
00400602
“I predict, Eddie, her Edward, that right in this seat Mr. Coy will appear soon and make a deal. I saw it–”
“Yeah yeah yeah, in your cards. Which apparently *I’ll* never see again.”
“*Unless…” Golden Goddess Nas pitched. 2nd date. More karma to pay but it might be worth it. Eddie looks down at lovely Marsha “Pink” Krakow, still singing away on the lime green karaoke stage inside. “Crazy Train” now, another crowd favorite since Osbourne is a local hero. Then just afterwards, her signature song. “Jackie Pink,” fully changed back to the original by this point. Her prison sentence is over. Golden Goddess speaks again as if for her.
“Are we on? Are we good to go?” “Crazy Train” was over. The belt comes off.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0602, Omega^^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^, Utah
00390602
Despite being 2 1/2 years removed from the event, she still kept her clothes on in what they called the big bathroom, seen here taking a bath instead of her usual shower, just to mix things up. Her everpresent pink shirt and pants dry quick enough, plus she’s more concerned at this location today about properly cleaning and grooming her head and lower extremities than parts in-between, what with handy items she could rez through the sink like a cordless hairdryer (seen above) and leg razor (see below). She could deal with the rest later in the smaller, private bathroom of the home she shares with 6 other people, including Shelley now, who just popped in one night after coming into Storybrook through the rat hole. Which they all did at one time, whether they remember it or not. Whether they *realize* it or not, Marsha Pink Krakow additionally thought. Conspiracies, pheh, she almost said aloud in disgust. Virgin birth, hmph. The things they teach you in church-school. And it’s within such stifling environments that a monster like Tom Banks could arise. Holding a rose when she first saw him. For Tammy.
Storybrook back then was a normal sized town with normal sized buildings and normal sized sinks and tubs. Before the coming of the map rat, who certainly had a tale to tell, a giant tale indeed. He stayed normal and the rest of them — us (she thinks) — shrank down. Done with the head now, down to the legs.
She was actually glad she had leg hair now because it meant she was growing up. Basically a full blown woman at 15 1/2. One-half more year and she can be on her own, away from the rest, away from Storybrook potentially. Because she had her plans all mapped out, damn the blocking rodent. She was going to walk right past the monster into the real, normal world again. Her new friend Shelley did it to get here, she can do the same to get out. Inspiration. But whether to take the girl with her becomes a new problem. Or fellow friends Lelia, Kellyya… even Tammy, since if they kind of cooked the idea up together that night in last May’s August, despite the smacking, sucking; she can’t hold those noises against her 3rd bestie formerly 1st bestie forever, although she could bump her down yet again in the friendship tier and replace her with Shelley. Seems so long ago now. The new girl and her fresh perspective has changed *everything*.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0602, River
Sunklands 