Category Archives: 0602

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)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0602, Big Woods, Jeogeot, RDR2

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)

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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)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0602, River

Kidd Tower 01

He was washing the car with roommate Devil Dave in Wendy when he got the call.

“You get it.”

“No, I’ll get it.” Typical, playful pals. Karoz answers the phone ringing in the front seat. He forgot to roll up the side window and it was ringing wet but so apparently not damaged. Wife Baker Blinker was on the other end. He’d forgotten he was married. “Come… *home*,” she said with defiant voice. He knew he was in trouble. “Chilbo?” he asked for some reason. It had been their home for I suppose 5 years. Why would it change now?

“No. We have a new home.” He knew somehow! Maybe it was just the oddity of the call. Baker Blinker hadn’t phoned him in, what was it, *2* years? He’d forgotten he tied the knot. He told Devil Dave all this after receiving the rest of the information and hanging up.

“Summer,” DD replied, still playful wiping the front of the La voiture de Grand-père they’d been bumming around in for 3 months. “You moved here at the beginning of summer. You last talked to Baker Blinker in spring, May I suppose. Not 2 years.”

“Oh.” He recalled now. But bad timing with the car wash. He’d have to drive it through the ocean and get it all salty to reach where Baker Blinker indicated was their new home. Place called Constantynople —island-state up in Nautilus, she said. Strange pronunciation, he thought. He also realized the irony that they were going to be residents of the place, “Constan*ti*nople” being the best known hit of the bizarro group known as The Residents. First track off “Duck Stab/Buster and Glen”, also their greatest album. He knew it well through the audiovisual synch “Waits 4 No One”. Wheeler (Wheeler!) use to play it quite a lot on the TV. Back in the days. Got him in a lot of trouble that one afternoon. Had the sound up too loud — may have even been “Constantinople” playing; more irony if so. Baker Blinker approached unheard, opened the door of the bungalow, witnessed what was inside. Nothing *too* bad, but Karoz had his legs propped up on Wheeler’s lap. She knew. He wasn’t allowed to enter the wrestling ring again for maybe about 3 months after that, maybe more.

“School’s closed anyway, library shut down,” said Devil Dave in resignation, car wash given up. He hated to lose his friend, his won over ally, but the future calls. Literally. Karoz Blogger wasn’t a bachelor. His days at Crabwoo U. were long gone. This had to be all a dream. Wake up, he said to himself. Wake up! And he did.

Karoz remained in the dream, though. Sans Dave, he now prepared to waterproof the car for his journey. He wasn’t going to leave Wendy without it, planes and trains not being an option here.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0602, Constantynople, Kidd Tower, Nautilus, Rank & File, Wendy-Ontario-, Wild West

00370602

Squared Root City, the hoped for functioning capital of Lower Austra, is swimming with changes. Club Zero in the upper left corner of the sim sized burg is gone, and that’s just the start. Nulled out. What’s the square or root number now? Same as the number itself, it seems. We’ll see what develops.

—–

Her suddenly talented mother came over to help rehearse the Crazy Blue act, still on despite the Horns being away in New Mexico. Soo shy; doesn’t want anyone to see her yet. Still blonde as rope. Is this who it seemed to be?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0602, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Squared Root City-

00360602

I had to go find out if this was really Mabel we’re dealing with here, a girl of purest green. In a way I suppose it had to be. Kitty kats — not the first time we’ve shared that link in this here photo-novel, 36 in a number.

*There* she is. Composing one of her backwards chord songs it appears from the sound of it, green plant in front of her dancing along with the queer results. She was green it was green. They were one.

—–

After convincing her I was Baker Bloch in another form, she fessed up at least to the knowledge of Tintown, a former tiny community on the edge of Mortons Gap. But whether Kentucky or Our Second Lyfe remained to be determined.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0602, Corsica, Kentucky, Nautilus, NORTH, Northwest

black and white

“She’s somewhere in that prison.” Lichen Roosevelt glances up. “Tall and narrow.”

“Like in the windows,” her companion Fern Stalin said for clarification, mainly to the reader of this here text. “The prison itself is rather short and squat, despite appearances from our angle.”

“Right right. Well?”

“France was a no go,” Fern said to Lichen.”Nothing in Mercury-Gemilli, or what we could detect at the time.”

“We had our Star Team tricorders,” said Lichen to this. “We should have sensed something if something was there.”

“Maybe later,” encouraged Fern.

“Maybe later,” echoed Lichen.

They begin to prepare for scaling the walls…

—–

“Liz!” Lichen exclaimed, waking her up.

“Shhhh. Keep it down!” she whispered as loud as safely possible, she felt. But she was overjoyed at the sight. At long last they meet almost eye to eye again. Get me out of here!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0602, France, Little Hell+, Omega, Southern

new outdoorsy “center”

Fans of LOST might like this place I found yesterday on one of my daily hikes. Very reminiscent of Jacob’s Cabin — in the middle of frick’n nowhere.

Questions abound. Who lived in the cabin? Why did they leave? Was it just a hunting cabin? Has it been totally forgotten about over time due to its remoteness? Why the sink in the wall? etc., etc.

Next I visited a cemetery with tombstones variously marked Main, Maine, and Mains. I sensed a branching of probable realities, especially when a stream called Mine is nearby. Did a Main, Mine, Maine or Mains inhabit the cabin? Did the cabin, as an anomaly of some kind, cause this apparent distortion or blurring of names in the first place?

https://lostpedia.fandom.com/wiki/The_Cabin

addition: Did you know the Man in Black lived in Jacob’s Cabin? Would explain the higher ceiling.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0602, Blue Mountain

hill house

Darling Pixley Pixy,

I tried to leave you but when I went out the front door it just became a door. I looked back. I realized all the answers I wanted were here — there — after all, kind of like Dorothy and her Kansas. So I gave up Oz; went back through the door. Laid down and went to sleep for a bit. Woke up and came downstairs to eat breakfast-dinner with the stern but still kindly aunt and the kind of stern but kind of not uncle — old fashioned they were. Asked them how I got here (eventually). They said:

“You landed here.”

I said, “Whaat?”

“In a beam of white light,” they further confessed. “You are not…”

“… from this world,” the other completed for the first, gams for gams (as we say).

I sat there, stunned obviously.

“Your eyes,” they continued. “That was the giveaway. That led to the others.”

“The… *others*?”

“The other… phenomena,” spoke the uncle, differentiating himself from my aunt in tone and volume. He spoke quite a bit after that. The skin tone pink was brought up early (and loudly) in the spiel. Then the tattoo, which he wrongly called “demon”. It was “demo”. They assumed I had scrubbed off the N somehow to cover this up and then flipped my hair down over the space along with the damaged eye. This also made me a heathen in their eyes. But somehow they still managed to love me. Deeply. Alien influence, I gathered from them, some kind of et sorcery.

“The cards,” Aunt Mina then prompted Uncle Taum.

“Ah yes,” he started again, but found his mouth was tired from talking. “You tell, dear.” He worked his jaw up and down, trying to get the soreness out for the next round of words. Aunt Mina saw this. Started talking kind of for him but also kind of not. She had her own mind these days. Read up on the suffragettes thanks to Marty. Realized Muff was just a portmanteau for Mutt and Jeff, with Jett jettisoned in the process — in the name. Band on the run.

“Do you recall being on the run?” she then asked, “OTR as we like to call it?”

“Tell her about the bluebird,” spoke the uncle, able to insert that much at least.

“Cards first. Cardinals,” the aunt clarified.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0602, Jeogeot, Kansas, Towerboro

00320602

He waits between hot and cold, choosing hot himself and currently enjoying a mustard and ketchup laden dog of such temperature before customers show up for the midday “rush” — not much of a rush actually but he’s not much of a worker these days, being technically retired and a bona fide Whitehead in Da Woods.

The Mustard Ketchup Kid plays soccer in a nearby field with his sister Ventura, who hails from California. She channels her energy in order to attempt to get the ball past Bert (actual name), but all this is just more code.

Squared Root City is expanding across Highway 13-14 into the sim to the north. Still exciting times for the burg. We hold out hope that it can replace Collagesity-Fordham as proper capital of Lower Austra. Because the latter is probably going away and is, anyway, too small for the role, being only a little over 1/8th of a sim in size. Squared Root Cy is, in contrast, about a sim and a 1/2 in area now.

That’s why the Axis-Windmill character is back. He waits in the Zero Club at the beginning of it all — just before the beginning, some say — for another important character that has chosen to resurface in these here blog-novels to match the new energy. Vim, some call her; others: Vigor (that’s actually her sister, maybe a twin). She counts her Mississippi’s in anticipation of the manifestation. One Mississippi, Two… wait, she forgot something. Newt! At the Zero!

“Hi baby doll.”

He turns. “Eyela?? Wasn’t expecting *you*.”

“No one is,” she speaks truthfully and, after adjusting the strap of her new clockwork eyepatch to better match her face, takes a seat beside him at the bar. Both now turn away from the camera and speak privately. We try to listen in but only catch a couple of words like Geronimo, Slick, Olive, and Oklahoma. We gather an oil spill in Indian territory of the panhandle state may be involved but could be mistaken. Let’s back up and move in closer. We’re the bartender. Let’s call him Jim. Tom, actually, only 3 feet away. Close enough to properly record. We ask if they need a drink to be more legitimate seeming. They refuse. We move away but not too much — should be OK. And… PRESS.

“I’m glad we could mustard enough energy to catch up,” she began, which was code for “very important information to follow.”

“Spill,” he requested, and she did. We were right. Kind of.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0602, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Mississippi, Nautilus, Squared Root City-