Category Archives: 0604

Mouse Island

I didn’t get out of the pod, which had turned into a boat. Soon enough I was darting toward Dizneyland, probably Pansy as well. I could only hope.

I stepped out of the boat and walked across the entry dock as quietly as I could. Maybe if I didn’t wake up anyone I could get out of this alive.

A squeaking board. “Halt!!”

Nope.

—–

We ate supper that night in silence. The knife we used to cut the pizza lay just beyond reach. I had two options as I saw it. We could either kill each other… or kiss each other. But this was Wheeler, I reminded myself. A Blurmaid — blue mermaid — but still: Wheeler. The whole separation of state and power came back to me like a punching fist, a jabbing knife. Looks like killing is the option.

“CUT!!” the director shouted behind the scenes. “That was GREAT. Now do it like you’re two monkeys climbing up a tree to grab the same banana. Annnnd ACTION!!”

The improv suggestion didn’t work. We sat there still, staring at each other. If I could only describe the look in her eyes. Two pools… whirlpools perhaps. I wish I was somewhere else.

—–

I was in the Temple now, having just completed the second of 2 whirls of the rainbow labyrinth on the bottom floor. Blue all around, but white here in the center. Just like her and her eyes. I was trapped like a fly between two window panes. I looked over at crooning Mercury propped up against a dead tree and understood more about what he went through.

Blue yellow red green, and then, secondly, cobalt purple orange maroon. If only there were just letters and not letters and numbers together then the world could remain perfect.

—–

“The switch from Kansas to Oz equals the switch from yellow to red as if through a door. Blue and yellow are Kansas, which remain perfect. Red and green are Oz, Munchkinland and the Yellow Brick Road to begin and encompass the whole. This *should* be perfect but it has been singly corrupted. And this is where we must understand *numbers* beyond letters. 13 in the first has been reduced to 12 in the second, with numbers adding 1/4th from the outside. This ‘outside’ is what we must really begin to understand. Because that is the direction of the Abyss and not God.”

I didn’t want to hear this TILE talk from Man About Time, attempting to explain my latest dream-reality. I knew Wheeler had created it all to teach me a valuable lesson. Don’t f-ck with mermaids. Or mice.

I am Pansy. Zero Hero.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0604, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, Rim Isles

Four Corners 02

He knew exactly where to look. He heads across the road toward the hills.

He pauses to roll two dice at Gigi’s place, red and white. “Twins,” he exclaims, seeing the result. “Good. I’m on the right track.” Certain Death can be avoided tonight.

He moves forward…

A wise sparrow looks down from a tree behind him. He stands in flowers again, pansies. This is where it will happen. He waits. He, again, knows Certain Death is not stalking him. This is the day, this is the portal. He waits. The sparrow knows too.

His head begins to vibrate rapidly. It has begun.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0604, Bellisaria^^, Four Corners

4th

I had to face the tiger head on.

Wheeler is Charlene is Her Majesty the Bigfoot!

One remained on the jigsaw pieces to our left, because there was only one left. Waiting for the snowman to turn orange again (it always did).

There (Wheeler joins the game).

Harrison just kept on dancing like a fool with his new mates behind the theatre. He was free!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0604, Canada/Picturetown, collages 2d, Marwood, NWES Island^

Barry 02 02

He awoke again a little later on in the day, not having moved from his spot in front of the Raccoon typewriter. Nappy the cat stared directly into the camera, aware of its presence. Eraserhead Man even dared to wave at it, thinking the noticing was funny. Barry DeBoy was not aware of it. Barry DeBoy was in character. He had awoken again, in the same spot as before. Someone, perhaps himself, had turned off the lamp.  More clarity all around this time. Wadded up papers on the floor — was this something *he* wrote, perhaps a future or past version again? He picked one up, unwadded it.  Something about a place named Gaston. Later he found parrot droppings on the floor of the shed and put two and two together to make four or five. A pirate with a parrot had been here, and he thought he knew which one. The dream controller. The one who brought the virus in his pirate ship for communities that didn’t heed the warnings. Like maw’s Storybrook. Like this place. DeBoy tries to remember the name, the most obvious thing he should recall. But all he could come up with was The Waste, which he knew wasn’t quite right. Something about a number. Or numbers.

He unwadded more; tried to piece together the story being written. Gaston had appeared in something called a photo-novel in versions 6, 11, 16, 21. Through this, the bastard pirate had concluded that it was related to something called a Magic Square of Jupiter, a 4×4 glyph that appeared, perhaps most famously, in Albrect Durer’s print “Melancholia” from back in the 15th Century or something — this from the pirate text again.

He finished unfolding the papers, shooed the conscious cat from the table, and tried to align them in correct order. 70 pages total, he understood from the numeration. But only 4 present here: bits about the magic square and the overall theories but no meat, no details. He would have to shift his attention elsewhere for more answers.

He turned to the stool and the easel holding a canvas on the other side of the screened in shed. Painting. Barry DeBoy realized he had two functions in life now. He was a writer. He was an artist, if not a painter then the equivalent. But in this moment: painter. He had work to do… he remembered that too. The CITY design. Black Diamond. He must get to work soon.

He wasn’t a writer in this incarnation. He was an artist. He wadded the papers back up and threw them in the trashcan underneath the desk. The true story of Gaston would have to wait until another day, another dreamer in another day perhaps, or one who dreams he is real even though he is just another character, one in a long long line now. Maybe he will share a first name with another of his kind — quite likely, given the sheer number. But before DeBoy gets to work — this is *his* work station now, not the pirate’s, not anyone else named Barry — he must explore the neighborhood. Find Suisan if possible and get the story about his mother. Maybe even — maw? He had to look. He had to know. Suisan would know. If she was available.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0604, The Waste^^

platinum

“Umbrella, Hucka Doobie. It’s closer than you think.”

“I know.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0604, Teepot^^

portal

Keith B. was back in Cassandra City, exploring old haunts, some still around, a lot: gone. He doesn’t remember, for instance, Big Dick’s Halfway Inn. He quickly figured out that BD stands in or resonates directly with MP, that is, Moby Prick. Here was a famous white whale manifested, perhaps. He better check it out.

He waited for the clerk to show up but one never came. From the corner of the lobby, unseen until now, a man spoke up, his voice crisp with confidence and intrigue. “Place is filled up, sir. You better go elsewhere. Gabby is on one of those long lunch breaks again.”

“Gabby?” returned Keith B., thinking the name was wrong. What was it in rehearsal. Jimmy? Dimmy? No, that wasn’t it either.

The man introduced himself instead of gabbing more about Gabby. “My name is Wendell “Biff” Carter and you were lured in here by the sign. Lured in so that you could meet *me*.”

The *whale*? Keith B. thinks while staring over, trying to get a better estimate of the man while not being so obvious about it.  That was it: someone was attempting to create a *report* on this man. And failing. Failing in general. Keith B. was here to help. At least that’s what the last version of the script read.

“Big Dick I assume.”

He extended his arms and scooted forward a little. “In the flesh.”

Keith B. turned away. He was finished studying for the moment.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0604, Cassandra City^, Maebaleia/Satori^^

split screen

“We’re not here to play with chess pieces, my lovely Linda Halsey,” Marty opens. “We’re here to play with minds. Give me a report on the latest over in Urqhart (or thereabouts), dearest.”

“Sure, um. We think Wheeler may be back in the game.”

“Is that good?”

“Is it?” she returned, and then Lisa Smipson showed up asking if they wanted menus but only brought up Vegetarian selections for specials. They thanked her while shaking their heads about needing food, not realizing who she was in the moment. Lisa then dropped this broad hint of how the game should go.

“You know, a mere pawn can be turned into a whole board given enough time,” she said in her pleasantly squeaky voice, bordering between serious and parody. Kind of like stuck between a 2d and 3d existence.  Fisher the fry cook called from the kitchen, needing her to pick up another order. “2 Perch, hold the fries, hold the slaw,” he called, giving more hints. She turned sideways and fairly disappeared in front of them. Another took her place in a frozen slice of time.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0604, Corsica^^, Storybrook^

Fearzom back to Fearzum

He sighs. “Black *is* beautiful. Oh Lily, why you do me this way? Why you do me this way?”

——

“Li-ly! Oh my darling wife Li-ly! Former wife Li-”

The phone rings, grinding Morgan Freechild’s attempt at a song to a halt. It’s Axis again.

——

“I *will* give your love to Lily,” he speaks into the phone to Axis a bit later. “Yeah, she’s right here,” he lies, “playing the piano as usual, he he.” Axis indicates he can’t wait to see them again; just has to tie up some business in *Fearzum* — *not* Fearzom — always gets a laugh, which Morgan does. “Okay, well I guess, um, I’ll see you after *that* — whatever it is.” Axis says he can’t talk about it then commences to talk about it for the next 15 minutes. “Sandman, eh?” responds Morgan Freechild to what he was revealing with obvious worry. “Well I haven’t seen or heard from him since he started preaching over at the Main Cheese Church in Heterocera; started wearing clown makeup all the time. I wonder what this Ant Man wants from him?” Axis replies that the name of the big ant is just Ant, with no Man attached and that would be a copyright issue if so. “Maybe that’s what it is, then,” says Morgan Freechild, administrative skills kicking in again. He was taking a break from all that, and Axis’ currently empty house fit the bill perfectly. Mountain retreat. Fearzom and not Fearzum. Strange, Morgan thinks once more, that Axis is involved in both. Maybe *I* should get involved with this, he ponders. Not tell Axis, just fly in and be done with it in a few hours. No stress involved. None atall. His old heart would be ticking none the worse for it. Good to get back to the old job, at least for a couple of hours. He decides then and there: Axis seems to need him.

It would be the worse decision of his life. Let’s just say he’ll never finish that love song.


flying back

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0604, Corsica^^, Northwest^

color

Instead, Duncan Avocado finds himself in the southeast corner of the sim of Blue on the Old Continent (Sansara), zooming in on a strange PLime flag adorned with a fused plum and lime.

Lime is the sim immediately east of here, and Plum lies immediately below Lime. Blue is the color of the pool ball he couldn’t remember the number of, but he’s not here in Blue for that reason. Instead: following leads from Kowloon. The place has magic. But Our Second Lyfe as a whole still retains the ways — YES — *before* the coming of the Blimey Limeys, as some in the Pot-D circle of more English persuasion decry the Lindens, the overlords to this world of ours. Because there was certainly a world before this world. Duncan originally found that out through Nautilus, then it spread to other continents, Maebaleia/Satori and its North-South split most prominently perhaps. You have to be quick to receive the proper messages coming from this world. And Duncan, thanks to his Pot-D training the last year, had learned nimbleness, beyond mere polished dance moves. He can dance through associative links now as well….

So Blue is still the mystery to be penetrated, he contemplates further from a nearby, green checkerboard sofa.

He remained on the Old Continent for a long, long time, never to return to Kowloon and its mysterious ways. The associative links took him elsewhere.

But we ourselves must remain in the Kowloon’s Gate Reborn themed sim a bit longer. At least until the end of the current photo-novel. Because Fish Head indeed has more information at his disposal now, thanks to the listening pipes. Goodbye Duncan! We’ll catch up with you soon enough. Happy dancing!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0017, 0604, Color Sims^, Kowloon^^, Sansara^^

besties

Baker Bloch was working alone tonight. The marriage of Wheeler was throwing him off his game, he felt. How could this be? He was trying to figure out how to organize all the Gaston posts into a separate page, a separate site even. He must be careful. Randolph with an additional name of Cross of all things. 2 doors down from Axis. 2 doors down from…

The door to the almost finished coffee shop in the central part of NWES opened. “Thought you might need some company tonight.” Hucka Doobie, Baker thought, rather disappointed that he couldn’t hide from the other core avatars completely. Ever. They were a family bound together in this virtual space and time, perhaps beyond. “Hi Hucka,” he offered as graciously as manageable. “Have a seat. Have some coffee. On the house.”

—–

I’ll sit in here and read until Hucka Doobie finishes her pie.

—–

“What is that thumping noise, Baker Bloch?” queries his bee-friend after the bathroom break, after the pie. Maybe his best friend now that Baker Blinker spends so much time in Chilbo, away from *Collagesity* (Collagesity! Yea!).

“Must be coming from the apartments directly above us. The Foxxy I believe it’s called — yes, checking remotely: The Foxxy. The primary owner and creator of the town was working on those at the same time I was working here, directly below. He contacted me via im about another matter — rental one — and I told him I was directly below him at the moment, which he didn’t know.”

“You have to be careful about contacting the outside. Outside our family of avatars, I mean.”

“I know. You’re right of course. But this is the *guy* who also created the duplicate Faux Rhino over in Gaston. I so so wanted to talk to him about it — why the duplication, so forth. It was so tempting.”

“Just that,” Hucka Doobie reinforced in her warning. “Another temptation.” She looks over at the shrine again, just outside the cafe at the terminus of a small, dead end hallway. Baker notices and starts to explain a bit more.

“Lu Ellen Hutchison is becoming a town hero, at least in certain parts. The place, NWES, is split down the middle, just like a certain US of A our joint user lives in up in the so called Real World. Real Life.”

“I know,” opines Hucka Doobie. “So cliche.”

Baker blows out some air, then continues. “Anti-gay, anti-immigrants, anti-whatever. Negative forces, Hucka Doobie. Save the unborn fetuses who are less than 3 months old but kill off all the old people in the world. It’s backwards. It’s *madness*.”

“Yes,” agrees Hucka Doobie, then glances at the shrine again. “Madness.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0016, 0604, Jeogeot^^, NWES Island^