Category Archives: 0610

tiger

He was sitting in a far away city, staring at a wall and thinking of nothing. Not: how did I get here? Not: wtf?? Just a blank slate. We better write upon it. Where’s that chalk?

*Flower Shop*, that was it. Turn around, DeBoy, and come face to face with your new home!

—–

“I often dream I’m a little boy with this tie on. I didn’t know much but I was gifted in other ways. Something about this tie…”

“Are you going to crash here again tonight? asked Norma the cashier. But most people just called her Norm. Normal Norm, who always handles the Cash. And she has a secret pipeline to the Amazon — that’s why her flowers seem so fragranty and exotic. They are! Didn’t cost her an arm and a leg but instead something else. “Are you going to answer me, Graham?”

Graham, he thinks, still hazy from a dream. That was my name in another far off place. Something about a mountain without green, something about a big picture with blocks of color. Something about… an Ant.”

(to be continued?)

Oh, I forgot. “Yes,” he answered to Norm’s question. She rings up 10.75 in credit to his response. But he’ll probably just pay again with that other thing he’s good at besides lounging around all day.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0610, Black Ice, Jeogeot^^, NWES Island

Iris-Beach

“The portal is pulsing over there; it’s ready to go. What say you, Wisey? Horney?” The owls beside him didn’t answer. He asked in the other direction. “What say you Cybie?”

Cyberpaperdoll, facing the opposite way from Baker (but with the owls), was thinking hard, thus the whirling twirling paper airplanes above and around her head. She knew they were on different tracks now, he with his blog and she with her… well, we’ll just leave it at maths for now. And memory! She almost forgot *that*.

“Kids over here a couple of days ago throwing cans in it,” Baker Bloch spoke again. “Darn kids. Hope they didn’t mess up anything.”

Cyberpaperdoll decided not to say anything to that once more. She would be silent from now on. Perhaps “different” can become “parallel” in time.

“Well okay, then.” Baker gets up from the box, intending to go inside the small bar beside the portal in front of him. “Guess I’ll see you guys later.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0610, Heterocera^^, Iris^

no Bland

The Donut Hole, Marty thinks while looking down at it from the high window of the Starlite Lounge, fortunately for him and others one of the last Pipersville landmarks Lt. Salt had on his list to check. Didn’t get there. “And Sweet Alice is the filled void in the middle; no need to go back,” he spoke aloud while turning his red topped option back to the turntables. For every season, I suppose — seasoning. Pepper in this case. Pepper black starry void of 1975 or thereabouts.

He stares thataway now at what’s being filmed…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0610, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^

Venus

Corsica the elephant continent is chocked full of stories, and I’ll try to get to as many as possible.

I’m not worried about the land failing me — indeed, no. I’m worried about the *people*.

Because when one peak goes out of sight…

… another seems to appear.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0610, Corsica^^, Northwest

what’s behind 03

Leaday, who has mysteriously replaced Goldie in the meantime, whispers through the disconnected line of pipes toward Peter/ Dr. Diper. “End of tiimmmme,” the part fish, part frog creature hissed.

“We’re running out of time,” stated Parasol across from Guy Benjamin while staring over at the Residents Union Back hourglass and its shifting sand.

But these were the “human” forms of cat beings Rebl and Guyd respectively, out of the End of Time caves and in Kowloon for a reason. Guy has human relatives: Grandmama and Grandpapa. Well, only Grandmama now, since the latter was done in by Axis the other day. With his Lost Cane in heaven, he still directs the good guys down below, however. Including grandson Guy. Parasol has other reasons for being here. She’s still looking for someone. Herbert Gold back in Rosehaven didn’t produce the needed results.

Across the alleyway, in the apartment directly behind Leaday, a phone rings. Satan Santa, taking his third bath of the day, cusses a hellish word, then exclaims to Frosty beside him, “You know who that is.” It wasn’t a question; no one calls here but her. Satan Santa stands up out of the tub and prepares to waddle toward the living room to answer it. Five rings, six rings… he knows she won’t let up.

Frosty is gleeful. He hopes this is the last time he has to see this ugly, hairy ass moving away from him. Too many times!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0610, Kowloon

Alice F.

“Why am I here, Axis? I can’t stand it any more!”

“Keep it down, dearest. You know why you’re here.”

“I know I know. The *Hiding*.”

“Did your skin change over today? How long this time if so?”

“Always with the percentages. *Yes*, it changed over.” She looked up from her backwards position, straining to see his face above her knees. “Sit down in the sand beside me. Hard to talk with you this way.”

Axis didn’t like sand. Actress Alice Frame knew this. And she’d purposefully rezzed only one chair on the tiny beach here. Fate, she thought. I stare straight out, but no one can look in. She lowered her head back toward the sand. Backwards she remained.

“I got a letter from Jack Toadswallow today.”

“Um, Jack who?” He was still standing. His legs were getting weary, his neck beginning to hurt. He couldn’t pull her off this peninsula effectively isolated from the rest of prying NWES. And he couldn’t stay.

“You know. *Ingo*.”

“Oh, Jack Toadswallow, right.” Axis had forgotten the name of the actor playing Alice Frame’s brother in the current production. And her real life lover, at least until the end of section 3. “How’s he doing?” Axis had taken pictures of the Rosehaven Yarn Shop but sensed he wouldn’t be sharing these with Alice Frame today. The princess has forgotten who she is.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0016, 0610, Jeogeot^^, Neptune, NWES Island

castle 42

Hmph. I suddenly can’t remember why I’m here at the X. Something about finding something. But what?

He breathes deeply; massive, blood stained chest heaving.

Better get back to Buster over in Long Drive, Pitch thinks. Back to the dance — last thing I recall.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0015, 0610, Maebaleia/Satori^^, X-City

back in Cassandra City, then…

“Well here it is. Little Jimmy. The bastard.”

“Over here,” beckoned Keith B. “Wrong car again.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s take a spin!”

“Where to?”

“You know where.”

“The end,” Jim B. mutters to himself while walking toward it, resigned to his fate.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0610, Cassandra City, Maebaleia/Satori^^

dolls

Geez, what a pathetic prop. Grey intestines look *nothing* like that.

On to the interesting subjects… just around the corner.

Ahh so. An actual living, breathing vein and artery person. Thanks to *us*. And then her sister, but without the internal circulating system. Sorry, Girl 01. The sister — Girl 02 — will have to remain on the ship. But *you*…

—–

“I was a girl with long, spindly legs,” spoke Misty Felton to her new bestest friend Sep Felton back at the latter’s apartment (125 Wall Lane, Wallytown). They hadn’t determined a blood relation, if there was one to be found. To Sep, that left the door wide open to… experimentation.

“Interesting,” Sep replied. “I always imagine horses. It affects people different ways. So I take it you like the dance… oh, silly question; you were gyrating just as hard as I was during the heated moments. But not as hard as Molly, tee hee. A better question would be, what didn’t you like about the dance? Personally, I was a little disappointed that Molly was glitter-free by the end. But it’s a small criticism. How about you?”

Chatty again, Misty thought. But with that nice, pleasant tone. Still probably makes up for it. Yes, it turns out that Molly’s routine involves *one*, count ’em, one dance throughout, but with many variations of themes tried. On and on the music went, a combination of Pink Floyd’s “On the Run” and Judy Garland’s theme song “Over the Rainbow,” as Sep explained. Being from 1920, Misty wasn’t familiar with either. Combined title: “OTR” of course. Born to be mashed up, as Sep also said.

“I can’t think of anything,” Misty offered to Sep’s question, hoping to switch the subject back to the spindly legged girl. And the sister. What *were* their names? It was right on the tip of her tongue.

Just when she was thinking this, Sep leaned over the counter separating them and pecked a kiss on the lips fronting said tongue. It took her breath away. But it wasn’t unpleasant. On the contrary… “You know I may be your great grandmother or something,” she said to put some distance between them again.

“Nope,” spoke Sep. “We ruled all that out. We called mom… we traced our ancestry back 4 generations. Thanks to Uncle Bert as well. (The name) Sep’s just a coincidence.”

Hmm, pondered Misty. She decided to reintroduce the subject bothering her more than anything. She was a little irritated that Sep had skipped over it so quickly. It seemed super important to her. Horses… why did the music invoke horses for her? She decided to say this aloud, then work back to the girl. Sex, or whatever’s coming up, could wait. “Why horses?”

“I’ve always liked them. In a past life I imagine myself being a horse. Tricksy. And with Capricorn my stud lover. We’d gallop the fields to the Misty Mountain, where the lighted ones are found, the beings who lead us down to the big head Brainard in the valley beyond. Altona.”

“That quite a fantasy you have going there,” opined Misty with a slight laugh and shake of the head. Misty Mountain? she then thought. Why *my* name? Again she decided to vocalize her internalizations. “Coincidence about the Misty Mountain?”

“Oh… didn’t think about that. Yes: coincidence. Chance — again.” But suddenly Sep knew that Misty and herself couldn’t be a couple. Because something *had* happened beyond that mountain; down in the valley. She was remembering this now — lingering effects of The Dance. They had both been *absorbed.* Assimilated… yes, that was the word she was looking for.

Misty was thinking the same word at the same time. And realizing the same thing about the couple part. Their minds were synchronized now. Because, actually, they had one mind.

That of Brainard.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0610, Wallytown/Fishers Island^

link

The company put Jackson Bloch up in a shack over in Hambone, just across the sim line from Nevermore. Handy for work, but he had to live with rental furniture and decorations, which he usually hated. However, this place was different. All the decor that should have remained alien to him began becoming more familiar instead. Slowly, surely, he felt like this was home, not only the shack, but, perhaps even moreso, Hambone itself.

He’d heard of a local man named Pat who disappeared in the past that some say looked and acted like him. They didn’t say “slow” or “ugly” or “unkempt” to his face, but that’s the essence of what they meant. Maxine Cornbread, Howard Johnstone, and the rest. The Gossipers, they called themselves, and met at The Last Drop every Wednesday afternoon, sand storm or shine. Jackson Bloch was now part of their outer, extended circle. So was a new dude named Walt: Walter Westinghouse. Philip Tongue as well. The Tongue — fits right in with that nickname. Anyway, the similarity between Jackson and Pat — our Patrick Starr of course — has been brought up several times now by that group. Slowly, surely, the story of the Nevermore abductions will intertwined with those of Pat and Jackson. 1 plus 1 begins to add up to 3. As in an unexpected baby. If he hadn’t died in that killer shark attack 15 years back, imagine the relief Zoidboro would have experienced learning who the true father was. Aliens! “Should have known,” I can hear him say from the grave.

With his mind, Jackson removes several posters from the wall he suddenly finds unwanted and unnecessary.

He’s been doing such things all his life. That’s how he became involved in the ruin construction business. No one puts up ruins faster than him. Or tears them down if the reverse is needed. No one.

Jackson is indeed very blessed and very special.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0610, The Waste^^