Category Archives: 0602

March 26, 2020 · 7:59 am

call

“Hello, Axis? Hiya, it’s Ant here. (reply) No, Ant, not *your* Aunt — any of the many of ’em. *The* Ant. Listen, I have a proposition. We’re downsizing here at [Elephant’s Trunk] because of the possible upcoming recession and all — (reply) what’s that? (repeat reply) YES, they’ll be a recession, perhaps a depression, but I’m not too depressed about it, hehe — (reply) Huh? Easter? What? Does Easter come in *August* this year, haha. Always gets a laugh. (reply) Yeah, yeah I’m practicing for a standup comedy routine, ho ho. Okay, to business. Parasol, you know, the red and blue eyed gal — lives up in Splinterwood last I heard. No, make that Benangatron or Benny or whatever they call that vampire burg these days. (reply) Phyllis — that could be it. Anyway, she’s just itching and itching and scratching and even clawing me a bit to bring back The Man, you know, her husband. (reply) I don’t know *when* that happened. They just sprung it on me one day. Parasol showed me that big red and blue ring on her — (reply) What’s that? (repeat reply). *That’s* where they had their honeymoon? (repeat reply). I don’t know where that is, Axis. (reply) Say I’ll know soon enough, eh? Wise guy eh? (reply) Oh you’re smart all right. Anyway — lost my train of thought here. (reply) Yeah right, The Man — thanks. Listen I don’t have any more time to talk. Just set up a meeting with me at Fearzum. (reply) No, I don’t mean your *house*. I said Fearzum. We’ve been through this a 1000 times. Fearzom and Fearzum are *different* sims. Just so happens that both are connected to you, weirdly enough. (reply) Yes, I said *Fearzum*. Now this is important. Bring the *Sandman*. (reply) You heard me. Just bring him. I’ll take care of things on this end. (reply) Well thanks for that, and goodbye to you too. See ya.”

A click on the other end, disconnecting Axis to Ant.

Staring at the receiver, Ant talks over to the man also on the phone next to him. “Hey Stan? I don’t know how to hang this thing up. How do you hang it up?”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0602, Corsica, Northwest

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January 19, 2020 · 10:33 am

Times Square

Later, while working at the Residents Union Back rolling out dough with a pin, Phyllis (aka Cyber-Catwoman) ponders why she was so adamant about Gallery 7/10 not existing any longer to her partner Chip (Cyber-Catman) at Head’s — almost directly above her at this point.

Because the place of timelessness is *here*, she realizes, and freezes the pin in its tracks.

The dough must be curious what happened.

—–

Feng Sui and Qi: gone, Chip realized when teleporting in from the roof. He just substituted 26 for 61 and he was here. Chip was needing advice on how to put up with a woman he loved. Because the cyan colored opposite sex remained a total mystery to him. Indeed, FS and Qi could have helped, but they were currently preparing lunch for the uncles. The bullet holes remain unsealed, Store Zero’s past still open and bared for all.

Someone opens the door….

(to be continued?)

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November 17, 2019 · 7:43 am

DEAD End Street

He wasn’t budging, this Big Black Smoke. “I have as much right to be here as you, red boy,” he declared from his cheap, green box seat. “You ain’t paying no rent.”  He settles back, crosses his arms behind his head. “Neither am I.”

Greg Ogden argued that he is about to pay the rent but is still trying the apartment out at times.

“Times what?” replies the larger, black man. “42?”

Greg didn’t know the answer to that. He didn’t know everything. He remained silent, contemplating whether to leave. But *he* had as much right to be here as Big Black Smoke.  This remained a stare down for now. He told him that.

“Hey,” then declared BBS. “You ain’t that red dude who’s going to marry that red haired gal in the church next door this coming Sunday? She’s been talking about you. About how you become cross sometimes.”

Greg said he wasn’t this person, although he likes to dress in red. Greg Ogden explains that he use to be a red mechanoid playing in a punk band with 2 other, differently colored mechanoids. “We got kicked out of Olde Lapara Towne due to a noise ordinance,” he furthered. “We came here to escape, to *hide* and regroup. But this place…”

“I know I know,” responded Big Black Smoke, looking around at all the red walls surrounding them. Like a cell. “This place changes you.” He was starting to feel sorry for the boy. “You know Golden Jim, the police chief? Don’t confuse him with Golden Joe. That’s a chef. You see what I mean about this town, boy? This New (Lapara) Towne? Same as the old town, hmph.”

Greg says he’s trying to leave but can’t. “Stewart’s dead,” he offered, nodding toward the window with the bay view. “Newton owns that ship out there now. That’s his brother.”

“I *know* who Newton is.” Big Black Smoke resisted the urge to call him ‘fool’, but he’s certainly trying to step off a ledge now. “You can’t leave once you stay here long enough.” Big Black Smoke had figured out who Greg Ogden was, and that this was his old apartment. Golden Jim had told him about the 2 Greg(g)s, one with the extra ‘g’, or, better (explained Golden Jim), the ‘g’ *stolen* from his last name. This theft bought him some jail time. Golden Jim wasn’t here then, but, again, this was legend. Like the day Pierre Schaeffer rode into town and stole all the Berries and took them off to La La Land. Even nimble Thimble couldn’t escape. Ahh, Thimble, thought Big Black Smoke, traveling back further in time to a thinner physique. Those were the days. The Dark Ages. I wish those old times could return. But Pierre changed all that. Him and the eye guy.

“This is *Jasper*, fool.” Big Black Smoke couldn’t help himself. “You’re stuck as much as those *flies* over in Central Park!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0602, Gaston+

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September 4, 2019 · 9:08 am

The Impossible Strawberry

“An agreement was reached, Hucka Doobie. Two realities, but then one reality. And it’s not the one that won.”

—-

“Bluebox…”

“Hills of Bill,” Hucka Doobie elaborated from behind once more, also looking at the map containing the former “Blue” galleries of Maebaleia/Satori on the 2nd floor of the house. “Center.”

“… then Blue Feather.”

“North.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0015, 0602, Golden Sink, Maebaleia/Satori

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June 30, 2019 · 6:44 am

Bunkie

“We could use the rocket for good instead of evil,” Cindy A. spoke over to Jim A. after straightening her hair. She had recently been influenced by a book she’d been reading. A famous trip to the Moon.

Jim A. laughed at this. Todd A. joined him. Yoko, having done the deed and brought them all together as a sealed, signed triangle, had slithered away again into the web of time with no rosy prognostication in sight.

“2 rockets will do it — we all agree?” It was Todd A. this time, manager of the project.

“We can send the 1st and see what happens,” offered Jim A. “Gauge the reaction before moving forward with the second.”

Cindy A. was getting sick to her stomach. What had she set in motion?

But they had trained for this. It was always going to be. Forward in time, and then backwards in time to the original point. Cassandra City. Home. But the hitherto thought of home  — Pipersville, at least in its original form as Chip Shot: doomed. Worse than doomed.

“How far to be accurate? Would we, say, have to go all the way north to Regaltown to effect the launch?” Todd A. again. “What say you mathematician of the group?”

Indicated Jim A. spoke up. “As close to the Neutral Zone as we dare get.”

“How about Golden City?” Cindy A. reluctantly chipped in. The others readily agreed to the future hole. “They had remembered Chip Shot but not their own, retaliatory fate. Much worse it will be for them in the afterlife.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0014, 0602, Cass City+, Maebaleia/Satori

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April 23, 2019 · 3:15 pm

future past

She kept holding her head and twiddling her feet. “I’ve been here all along, I’ve been here all along, I’ve been here all *alone*.”

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Filed under 0013, 0602, Wallytown/Fishers Island

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February 20, 2019 · 8:34 am

Serenity

If she sits in her compression chair too much longer, she may never get up.

So tightly wound around. Like a Mummy.

Only Monsieur’s visits brings her out of herself. Where *is* he??

—–

“I’ve been waiting and waiting for you, Herbert Glenn Gold.”

The full name, he thinks. She *was* upset. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with the king. And then with the doll houses. We found Carrcassonnee inside. The one eyed entity that use to rule Collagesity. HF showed us.”

“But you were both Gold and Platinum inside Murdock’s Castle. Time was all mixed up. *Is* mixed up. You came too close to the truth.”

“Now I know. Fingerprince. I just had to find the second dollhouse to confirm it. And the second HF.”

“Are you going inside? Forever and ever and ever?”

“I’m not sure. What would you advise?”

She paused. “Maybe we should go to the Serenity Church. Perhaps the Reverend can help us.”

—–

“He’s *here*. Zoidboro is here.” Monsieur Gold was incredulous.

“Yes,” spoke Parasol below the tone of Zoidboro’s preaching. “It’s because of the Gold and Platinum mix-up. Zoidboro’s been here for years now. Yet he has just arrived. And then: he isn’t here yet. Some realities he was never born, never had a child by that strange mutant gal-guy Patrick Starr.”

“The drummer?”

“No, that’s Ingor.”

“Ingo?”

“No. *He’s* different.”

“My head hurts. I need to sit down.”

—–

So they sat down opposite Sally Spark O Naut — who had dutifully followed Zoidboro through the eyeball cave portal — and listened to the remainder of a beautiful sermon about the dangers of shark attacks. Afterwards, Herbert Gold’s head hurt considerably more.

In fact, I think he died there. Again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0602, Rose Heaven-

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December 9, 2018 · 6:59 am

And so it began.

De Boom Street. San Franciso. The only business establishment having a door on the short alley being one called *Lime*Light.

This very same De Boom Street lent its name to the very first 256×256 meter simulator (“sim”) of Second Life: Da Boom, an origin sometimes erroneously attached to the boom of the cosmic Big Bang, since this is where founder Philip Rosedale’s glorious virtual reality, perhaps the size of 1st state Delaware now, started and expanded out from. The Seed.

Similarly, Rosedale’s company of Linden Lab, that introduced Second Life to the general public in 2002, took its name from the San Francisco street it was located on at the time: Linden Street. So Philip Rosedale became Philip Linden in Second Life, his well known avatar form. All early Second Life sims derived their name from streets and alleys located near Linden Lab, but Da Boom was the first. De Boom to Da Boom. Yeah, come to think of it, I suppose they did slightly alter the name with the Big Bang in mind. Like “Da Bears”. Fate.

If we also travel up Linden Street in the current version of Google Street View, away from Linden Lab’s old site, we come across a man seemingly stashing something in a tree. A cache of some sort, perhaps.

Seems surprised, or perhaps *guilty*, for being caught in the act, doesn’t he?

When the Google car and its camera continue onward, he resumes his activity at the tree. Then, just afterwards, he gets in his own car (green Honda Civic) and leaves.

What is in the tree?

Could it be… treasure?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0602, California, Google Street View, Utah

September 24, 2018 · 6:42 am

reversion

It was this sight of a “burning dog” (actually a dog fronting a camp fire from his perspective) a little over a sim inside Fishers Island which changed him back, as it should be.

Burning Man became just a Man again. Kevin.

But his feet remained ignited.

He wandered up to the bar located in a neighboring parcel and ordered a beer, extra hops. He showed the tough looking bartender Cyclops Ted his hot foot to indicate he too meant business.

“‘Take me drunk I’m home.’ Haven’t heard that one before.”

“Um huh.” Ted was wondering how comfortably long he could wait before calling his wife Ethel about this one. Long time since he’s seen one of those burny people pass through these here parts. Last dude took out a whole palace!

He glanced over to make sure the fire extinguisher was still hanging on the wall in the corner.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0602, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island

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July 14, 2018 · 12:23 pm

absorption

“I should be finished with journal 9 in 2 weeks or less, Robert Drake Johns. Then we will reassess the situation.”

“That’s great, Older Mabel,” spoke the tall, lime green robot seated beside her. His voice was nasal compared to most mechanoids of his type — Mabel designed him this way to appear slightly comical to her and help lighten the mood sometimes. Because the mood was dire in many instances. The Wastelands held nothing back.

“I’m wondering when The Monster will return,” started RDJ again. “Sally lives on the edge of the Deep Dunes but hasn’t seen or smelled anything in 2 weeks or more. The Axis powers may have won the war, but they haven’t been especially active conquerors… let us do what we please, when we please.”

“Oh they’re around.” She scribbles quickly once more. “Right now I’m seeing a narrow boat, mired deep in the high sands. Two children — no, a child and a man, actually an older man. Then another, observing man. No, sorry again, a woman but with many eyes, some which could be masculine. Actors and Observers again, Robert Drake Johns.”

“I miss my cousin,” said RDJ out of the blue. “I miss Cardboard. The character and not the substance, although that has disappeared too. All metal and rust now; little plastic as well.”

“And parchment,” added Mabel brightly. “Thank Gods for parchment.”

“And Ink!”

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