“I’m telling you, Mike,” Pat relays telepathically. “If the next box is one specific color, one *specific* color… then we can’t kill her. We just can’t.
“We can’t kill her brother of mine (sigh).”
2 boxes later, past the demonstration of TILE that placated the onlooking, desirous ghouls, she finds the key, the center of it all.
Switching from colored to black and white, she can now unlock the door with the Newton-Jasper cube indicating scale.
Damn, thinks Mike. 2nd one today.
She lay down in the tall, wind blown grass, letting the resonance engulf her. The Hmm in its pure essence. Remarkable. She can’t get enough of it.
It makes her feel like a child again, riding her tricycle down the road beside her mother’s home.
Home.
She must get the word out. This is paradise!
A novel should do the trick, she determines. And so it came to be.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0603, New Island^
He’s a god d-mn rock star.
SWITCH. Classical too!
“Toward me now!”
Yeah we’re going to put you on a little boat and take you all over the world you god d-mn rock slash classical star you, observing Wheeler thinks with this angle of him from the porch of Pogo’s General Store, the 1:1 matched parcel of the sim not named Okefenokee North somewhat to her disappointment but just Pogo, period. Bit of a copout, she believes, but things can still be fixed in this End of Time place which keeps modifying and expanding over time despite the name. Good for them! Not like a lot of places in Our Second Lyfe which are, at best, staying the same, or, worse, devolving or simply ceasing to be. She appreciates the persistence of existence, has learned to embrace it in this ever changing virtual world when she finds it.
“Let’s stop with the guitaring and come sit beside me, er, Douglas! I have some more thoughts on your face!”
—–
“Yes, that’s better. The shoes and overall outfit obviously still need some work but this is good for today.” She reaches over and pats his knee. “*Very* good,” and then leans more to give him a kiss on his cheek, tying him with Newt for number of smooches meted out by Wheeler recently. True, Newt’s was on the lips so that counts a bit more, I suppose. And he’s seen the colors too, the red blue yellow green on the back and the orange and purple up front. If lips are like one pink, then we could say he’s up to 7, with Douglas here still sitting at zero. We’ll see if that holds.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0603, End of Time^^
Persimmon. A seed that grew into a tree. A tree whittled down to make a club. Woods (Tiger).
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wood_(golf)
Woods are so called because, traditionally, they had a club head that was made from hardwood, generally persimmon,[1] but modern clubs have heads made from metal, for example titanium, or composite materials, such as carbon fiber
Persimmon can also be whittled down to >sim< (Juho). Or in this case, visa versa.
In another, completely different game, a Woodman working for Tyger (Claws (gang)) with an actual last name of Forrest.
https://cyberpunk.fandom.com/wiki/Oswald_Forrest
Just some random, scattered association, but maybe soon to be more.
Woods: I’m part of the older generation that grew up playing with balata balls, and part of the last generation that played persimmon.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0603, C2077, Georgia, Google Street View, J-Town, Jeogeot, Juho, Nawt Vaya
Is that a *shoe* represented below Martha’s Vineyard’s left foot as pointed out by Gerald’s lap-dancing robot Chomp formerly Chop?
Hmm. Anyway, having successfully found the light inside the dark in the interior of the Badlands Grocery Store in Interior, Fern Stalin and Billy Clockwork decide to visit 4 Buttes while they’re up in the real world, since it’s just a hop and a skip away from them over the South Dakota line in Montana. Or so they thought. But what they viewed when they got there 7 hours and 47 minutes later surprised them (again!) and made the much longer than expected trip kind of all worthwhile. The buttes didn’t appear pointy at all now like in the photos from section 02, seemingly worn down by the erosions of time. “Something’s flat, something’s off,” Fern free associated beside the rental truck while staring, thinking of soda and fizz and the lack thereof.
After taking the last draw off her old soda in hand, Fern decides that they missed something in South Dakota which caused this alternate 4 Buttes to, er, arise. “Wall,” she said intuitively to her clockwork traveling companion. “Something about Wall.” Billy knew Fern was talking about the original Real Life town they teleported into from Our Second Life (thanks Mistress!) before making their way across the the heart of the Badlands to Interior. “Maybe something to do with the famous tourist trap drug store there also named Wall,” she continued in this vein, thinking back to their visit to it through her photographic memory. “Maybe…”
“Got it! A postcard I saw there. 420, Billy — seating capacity for the drug store’s cafe on the postcard but so much more. That’s what we’re looking for. Something at or about 420.” And another welcome sign, she also soon gleaned.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0603, Heterocera, Massachusetts, Montana, Rubi^, South Dakota
“*There* you are, Greg Ogden you sneaky devil,” he said while watching him paint bathing beauty Redd again in a totally different location than before, different from anything we’ve seen so far in this here photo-novel, 43 in a series. “We’ll catch up as soon as I finish my tour, you abstracter you. I’ll remember where you are.”
Likewise period clothes wearing Greg said nothing, as if he wasn’t even aware of him passing by. The man hadn’t created an identity yet in this new land. Maybe that’s the problem. So on to the next terrace…
… where he encounters a band of progressive folk rock musicians. “The Whistler approaches!” said their leader as he comes into the scene. “A song for the Whistler!” And they leap right into the Jethro Tull song of that same name.
He circled around behind them, listening, then remembering. “It’s *Witcher*, not Whistler,” he exploded, bringing the tune to a screeching halt. “I am the Witcher. Fools.” With this declaration, he also recalled his mission. To save the town from a monster.
Now to refind Greg Ogden, because he knows something about this too.
“Halt Greg Ogden! Stand back from that *demon*!” he says to the painter when approaching again. Greg heard him this time, as the Witcher knew he would now that he understood who he was. Paintbrush dropped like the tune before it, he stood back. Redd’s face had changed.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0603, Witcher
The fox is dead, Arthur realized while looking to the left on the same walk. Something had happened. Think Arthur, think!
He was in the tunnel again, light at the end once more. But different. White, not yellow. Different planet, he realized. Newt, he recalled. Something about Newt.
He turns left instead of right, thereby avoiding the dead fox.
Choices, he pondered. It’s all about the choices we make.
—–
Into the clotheslines!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0603, RDR2
https://marketplace.secondlife.com/p/Rue-Saint-Denis-for-classic-or-BOM/15679735
“Well it was a foolish outfit and I was a foolish girl at the time. Blonde hair; rosy red cheeks after that, but not from rouge. Syphilis I contracted — still trying to be frank and honest with you guys. But it eventually cleared up when I got out of that crazy, mixed up place of a land full of bad, bad people. Arthur gave me some money. You see–”
“Arthur? Arthur Kill? I know him.” Red Dead Beardy Head again there.
“Err,” said Libra. “Yes,” she decided. “Yes, let’s go with him. Married to Shelley Struthers (partly named for Sally Struthers, TV daughter of Archie and Edith), right. It fits!”
“And what of Marsha ‘Pink’ Krakow?” Black Pearl responded to a slightly earlier declaration.
“The same,” Wheeler continued with the admissions. “Marsha ‘Pink’ Krakow equals Shelley Struthers along with 2 other components, a kid named Frankie Brown who provides some gestures and perhaps a conscience, and then another kid called Marsha. Shelley is the (grown up) body for the 3. Body, mind, soul we could call them, with the Marsha brain aspect up front and on top.”
“So… let’s cut to the chase,” said RDBH, trying to regain his wits in the barrage of strange information. “How do we get to the X on the pirate map?”
Wheeler dressed as Libra in her parrot dress exhaled. “You can’t… not with that ship.”
“You *sold* me that ship,” replied Black Pearl to this. “You *implied* it could.”
“I was wrong. That ship will divide the 2 of you. I know this because I understand the perspective from the opposite direction. I know the endpoint. I was *at* the endpoint. Red Dead Beardy Head,” she addressed the male partner of the 2 sitting across from her in the Perch Restaurant of Aisle of Palms, open for business at 10 but not serving fish until 4 to his disappointment. No perch in Perch yet. And will our damn waiter please wake up! he was thinking just before this. “Red Dead,” Libra said again, “you and Black Pearl will break up if you try to go in that ship. It’s certain death up there in Outer Space. I’ve seen the future!”
“But — you *sold* it to me.” Black Pearl was smelling a rat as big as a human and named Victor-not-Victoria. “You said the golf course is closing.”
“The golf course *is* closing,” followed Libra Neptune closely. “The Black Pearl was smashed up on the rocks outside. I fixed it up. But really, I didn’t fix it up. Not in the way that could take you safely to the X.”
“*Finally*,” said Red Dead, seeing the waiter shake his head and blink a couple of times before fully reopening his eyes. He’d been woken up with a poke from the right. Manager Percy had let him sleep until 10:15, feeling sorry for the overworked man who toiled both day and night, with few minutes for rest in-between.
Now, in the moment again, he was upon them. Talk of the ship and its position at the head of 2 streams of virtual reality would have to wait a bit; after some bites. “Sorry for the delay. Our breakfast special is perch,” he said, knowing it was unusual but wanting to please an irritated customer and his friends. He could hear like hell — just had to process all the information right after coming back into consciousness. Being both waiter and chef, he could make this so.
“I cannot see at this time. The leaves are stuck together as if in an old waterlogged book found floating on the harbour. Poetically speaking,” she explains her description.
“Never mind (the whereabouts of) Ketchup Tom, then. How about this new guy, this Roy Coy. Doctor? Mister? Gaze into your scrying instruments and give me the info.”
Golden Goddess gives it another go. Tired of the cards and leaves, she pulls out the crystal ball, blue-green as Earth and an almost exact stand in. Getting closer.
“Utah Utah Utah,” she says while scanning and staring. “Aahh… *there*.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0603, Omega^^, Twin Peaks, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^, Utah
He peered out between eaters, afraid he’d become part of a sandwich.
——
“I wanted to show you this place,” she spoke down to fellow climber Shelley (kid), “because I believe in your unique power, coming from the outside so soon before and all.”
“There,” she said at the top, standing beside the 3 that hide a 4th. “Can you see?”
“See what?” spoke Shelley, also leaping off.
“Precisely. Mean mad mustard,” Marsha uttered cryptically and then urged the younger girl to stand in her spot while moving over a bit.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0603, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, River, Wild West
Sunklands 