Category Archives: 0609

the witch cometh

“It was the end of the line for me, Baker Bloch. Car broke down, you see.”

“I see.”

“Couldn’t go further down this road. Had to give over to another.”

“Who is yourself,” the male Baker attempted to clarify.

“No.” Fellow core Wheeler Wilson left it at that. I suppose it was like saying Baker Bloch here was the same as Clifton Mahoney — oops, there he goes again.

“You’re breaking down too,” Wheeler pointed out, staring over at the new figure. We’re *old*, Baker Bloch. Time to yield. There’s… even Liz standing behind Shelley now, 2 down the road instead of 1. Clifton Mahoney—” But Wheeler shut up here, not wanting to revealed too much future stuff again. No need to know about Carbon Glow right now.

Baker/Clifton extended his draw distance out to the maximum (512 meters), stared out across the flat plain toward the mountain he now rents the top of. The castle never rezzed above the bus stop in front of him, although it did when checking from this very spot yesterday. He sat and sat…

Broken once again. Our Second Lyfe has a fatal flaw, he thinks.

Wheeler could view it fine but she could see in the dark. And twice as big. Secret weapons. Among others.

“Nice redwoods over there,” Wheeler tried to deflect. But he couldn’t see them properly neither in the moment. Moving on…

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0609, Jeogeot, Middleton^, Towerboro

continuing…

“I tell you, he’s listening in. He always seems to be listening in.”

Roger looks around, spots robot servant Ruttitutti apparently staring at them from the far wall. “Maybe he’s just concerned about our drinks, monitoring the fluid level.”

“What about everyone *else*, then,” returns Greta van Sustenance, also looking around but then realizing no one else had food or beverage. Maybe Roger the Green Grey Alien was right. Maybe this was all paranoia caused by the insanity of the situation. Rounding up poor little fairies of all things. Just because a man with a spider on his flag says to do it. She’s trying to figure a way out. She has reason to fear. Wanda.

Moving on…

Roger’s friend’s cousin Jack ignores another appearing purple cube on his way to get more cigarettes, understanding his priorities. Smoke first before reporting any other oddities. So many lately! He wonders what is happening, but only outside, on the deck, after the first exhale of sweet sweet Marlboro passes his lips.

Ruttitutti delivers a bottle of champagne to Kelli and Lynnette and starts monitoring them as well.

“50 a day,” says Kelli. “That’s what he said he wanted the goal to be. They’re rounding them up from every corner of southern Omega. Soon there won’t be a bloody one left. Whaddaya think?”

“I think (she spots Ruttitutti as well, looking on) I’ll go to be beach today to show off my new swimwear. Chancellor’s Choice!”

Oh, here might be something. K.C. was having trouble identifying a target.

Old Saint Louie, another alien but of a lizard variety this time, suggested spelling it targuit in the search, or, better, two words: Tar Guit. “That should do the trick,” he finished, then moved on to the next underling after seeing success reached.

Did the guard station then effect the newest and latest and most effective bombing of the Moray Docks Village, completely vaporizing it now, making sure the backwards, guitar oriented punk-folk musicians Tar and Guit were still at the center? And: is one of them really *George*? Shelley’s George?

More clarification:

Another purple cube, this time by the water cooler as first spotted by skinless Antelope alien Cobumblia. But she was on her way to fanny aerobics and didn’t want to deal with the reporting paperwork, much like Jack. In fact, I think they’re cousins through friends as well. Along with Johnson…

… who has a stomach ache today and is on his way home to the guard compounds after telling his boss. Don’t come back, Petter Cotontail thinks. One too many aches of this and that kind. He’ll report the green alien bastard — Shufflers, *pheh*. He might even be joining the fairies later, the waste of space that he is. Maybe Shufflers can be added to the extermination list, along with — if he had his druthers — Orks, Porcupeople and a couple of others. He settles back in his chair, eating another truffle.

That better be it for tonight. Sorry Liz!

“MessiaenSphere,” she cussed.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0609, Omega^^, Southern

Nowhere

“We must pray for a return to Nautilus, Mother; Daughter. Pray with me please. Pray pray pray.”

It could work, Pauline Silentghost knew, if Shelly would quickly grow the hell up and away from her daughter. They can’t remain about the same age. Baker has a home on the Rooster Peninsula (Nautilus), and this has aided him in knowing he is a sleepwalker, like all or almost all of us regular human types up here in the Real World where I’m typing this. Easist thing in the world to let the thoughts just take you. Driving is super aggressive if we just submerge ourselves in it. Whole blocks of repeating ruminations about a family member who hurt you, or not getting your due respect from another. How different you are from a brother. Most of it is just fiction, or *inconvenient* to the fact that we all also create our own reality. There are all kinds of hidden connections if we could just open our eyes.

She holds the blue ball right side up and that seems promising. At least she is able to keep from spacing out all the time — understands the 8 corners of the universe and can see above and beyond. Channeler Pauline Silentghost could be the salvation of us all. And Carrcassonnee of course, the deity within that is also probably the same as herself.

“Hurry,” she urges from the top of the rock. “Hurry!”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0609, AF Subcontinent, Sansara

MOArd

“If you just *become* Greenleaf for a while — shedding your wings when needed — then maybe we can figure out this whole Ebony-Ivory confusion. I recall the salt and pepper shakers at Starbucanneers.”

“I’m going to stop you there, Baker Bloch,” says Wheeler from her opposite side of The Table. “I have to go see how our Miss Ouri is doing.”

“Oh okay,” he complied, knowing how important all that was (as well).

She moves just across the green.

—–

“Dad-dy. We’re still *here.* And there’s not even a town to escape to now. The castle is isolated (!).”

“Shush babydoll,” he whispers, also placing his finger over his lips. “Daddy’s trying to read.” He returns to such. Almost got it now. MOA is…

—–

She’s heard enough for now through the coke machine. Kactus too. MOA… right down the stairs beside her in the basement of this very building. The key to rebuilding the town itself. Files inside, he said. More buildings. Many more.

Locked away until the right time to spring forward again. Maybe next spring, then.

Unless she destroys it first.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0609, Jeogeot, Nautilus, North, Rooster's Peninsula, Towerboro

Frank Park/Bull Mountain photos

Area 54 (where are you?).

A welcoming sight in the woods (reversed; w/ balancing male and female rock piles).

Detail.

Bottle tree. Just been added to the day before this photo was taken.

Sitting Bullrock (not to be confused w/ much larger Bullrocks way up the mountain slope; maybe rename one or the other; this is where I *sit*).

In a different meadow: both a white-ish golf ball and large-ish white rock (“Diamond”) placed here.

This overall location framed by the 2 welcoming sight rock stackings is *mysterious*.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0608, 0609, Bill Mountain, Frank Park

dream 009 (one after 909)

“Aww *raspberries*!” he cussed after running me over in his little purple car, him with his curly purple hair and dark, tall attitude and altitude. *Finally*. I’d been asking for it since John F. Kennedy City when Jeffrey Phillips almost did it with red. He prodded me with his foot to make sure, but I was sure dead all right, raspberry beret crushed and mixed into a bigger mess that was formerly my somewhat dense but pretty enough head. Maw was right. You can’t be in two places at once when… can’t remember the rest.

He could never have me.

He withdraws foot from leg, knowing it was The End.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0608, 0609, Nautilus, Omega^^, Retirement Islands, The Cross^, Wild West

00310609

Backpack laden Mr. Z arrives at the islet home of Tina and Louise but decides not to bother them, knowing he must get to Alan and Hale on the main island before the worst of the storm hits. He takes one more look from his center position on their mooring deck before moving on, a closer lightning flash bristling the hairs on the back of his neck next to the mask that screams the most.

“Watch out!” it seems to say. The watch-over says watch over. Too late: he’d been spotted and then invited in for a spot of tea.

He soon learned that the girls remained friends but had split up as a couple, with Tina keeping the main house and Louise sleeping over there in the former guest treehouse, at least until she could find new digs, perhaps with the man they called the Professor up in Trueblood, The One, she sometimes called him. Tina technically owned the property after all — Louise felt she had no choice except to take the smaller place. The black haired beauty invited Mr. Z to stay with her, jumping the gun on her former redheaded and at least equally stunning roomie. She wasn’t going to accept second place no longer.

Later at the treehouse they lit a joint and got down to it. Scrabble. After smoking Mr. Z admitted to Louise that redheads were more his bag and that he was disappointed that Tina hadn’t invited him to stay in the main house instead. After turning over the scrabble board and spilling the pieces all about the place, she slapped him and said he could go to his Tina, his dream girl, and that she had the Professor after all, no matter how distant he was from her in the moment, those many sims to cross to get to him up in Trueblood. She could wait until they’re together, PHEH. “Out… OUT!” she screamed, waking up the screaming mask who did likewise. “Told you so!” it seemed to say as another lighting storm started on the coast.

Next up: Alan and Hale and the attack of the howling Howell monkeys.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0609, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West

something to crow about

Back in Whippersnapper, Baker waited outside for a new Christmas shipment of antique art (and pottery) to the Blue Baron’s.

“Monolith…?” he questioned when it finally arrived from ports unknown. “Let me check,” offered Chuck Wakdins the delivery man, and looked down his inventory list. “Which one,” he finally said, “Ansel Adams or, let me see, Greg Ogden? New guy apparently.”

Suc-cess!

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0609, Hana Lei^^

00290609

“Yes, you’ve named a number of the Paper *Kings* and I thank you for that, Elvina.”

“You’re welcome, Buster.”

“Inspector,” he corrected. “By night. Chef by day.”

“Then…” She bit her tongue. He *must* know. “But…” she started again.

“Yes, ‘but’. We’re looking for the kingpin, Elvina, and you know it. They just call themselves the Kings, collective, to honor him. He was secretly elected — as we understand it down at the station — on Thanksgiving Day of last year…”

*This* year, Elvina thought, but kept her mouth shut (again).

—–

Turns out the plural version of the name was just an oversight. The gang working with the actual King would never dare call themselves such. On a tip from Elvina, mistake responsible Lester had to change all the related graffiti in town the next day.

“Okay, one down, Lester,” said Custer, in charge of the clean up, “and who knows how many to go. We’ll just walk around some more, pheh.”

“Yeah yeah, sure. Anything to appease the boss.”

“He ain’t elected yet.” But Custer knew he would be elected. Again. There were powers outside of town that would make sure of it.

Lester pointed toward the motel. “Over there I think.”

“Let’s go,” Custer waved.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0609, Paper Soap, Soap

00280609

“Long ago, the Lemon peoples blocked this peninsula off from the rest of Nautilus for a special role. To provide the Great 4n1 a place to play and romp. Roost Never Sleeps was built on the highest peak. There the Lemon peoples made friends with the Great 4n1.”

“Lemme get this straight. The big 4 prog rock groups became friends with the Beetles. Here.”

“Yes,” replied Hoppy back to Herbert, formerly Windmill Man or in tandem with that name. “There were 3 Beetles, a Great 3n1 if you will. The main Beetles had a doppleganger double in both music and comedy. In most unexpected places!”

“Shame the castle is gone now.”

“We have a new one!” exclaimed Hoppy. “Yours.”

“No,” replied Herbert, trying to let the little floppy eared fellow down easy. “My castle will not stay, Hoppy. Mine is destined to go the way of The Roost.”

Hoppy shed a tear with this. “I guess we’re stuck with just the one.” Both looked up.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0609, Nautilus, North, Rooster's Peninsula