Category Archives: 0612

00360612

Clifton “Carbon Glow” Mahoney taking a well deserved rest at Gloomy Gus after a busy day working on the train and railroad. He’d figured it out. The last *key* was removing the cave front and replacing it with this suspiciously rectangular piece of rock positioned at the top of the town’s cascade, a leftover mistake of residents at the time…


rock before the move

.. because this was obviously the old front of the tunnel that the train passed through beneath the 7th and final spire of Castle Soos, also known as Soos Mountain Castle, or Somoca, not to be confused with the Soos Mountain Community, instead abbreviated Somoco. Anyway, once he figured this out and did the switcheroo, the train slotted perfectly into the hole, spinning keytop on the locomotive fitting comfortably beneath the top now, which the shorter cave didn’t allow. Check it out.


Another thing he had to do to make it all work was to shrink the miniature train found in storage behind the castle (more sloppiness!) from Tiny back to Teensie, an even smaller, original, pre-Robolution version, the one that allowed for proper portal hopping, he felt.  He wouldn’t go to Oklahoma next time, even thought that was just a dream. Or if he did, he’d know it wasn’t in error this go around. Something about dunes last night. Check here:

https://www.onlyinyourstate.com/oklahoma/sinister-beaver-dunes-park-ok/

That’s not the first time we’ve brought up Beaver formerly Beaver City Oklahoma in this here blog and attached photo-novels. More soon (stay tuned!).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, Jeogeot, Oklahoma, Middleton^, 0612, Towerboro, 0036

deeper South now…

“How much to see Arthur?” she said out of the side of her mouth while eating. Or at least pretending to eat.

Jerry sighs. He’s not even going to try to correct her again. “10,000,” he says not crisply, like before, but resigned. He doesn’t even look at her, which was customary before a sale to show he’s earnest about the deal.

“Roll me a three, Earnest,” he says over to the cigar toking taker across from him. “1000 on the 3.”

Roll…

“Okay, that’s the last one,” Earnest says, watching it come up again. 10 ones. What are the odds? “Closing up, Harry. Gotta get back to the ball and chain for a little ball breaking heh heh.”

“Jerry,” corrects the actor about the name. He looks offstage at the director, slumping over a bit. “Geez, Kurt. What is that, the 10th time?” He rolls his eyes for everyone around, not hiding his frustration — or was it amusement? — any longer.

“Just do it in the same take,” came the opinion in a steady, non-agitated voice from the side. “Start with the flubbed sentence.”

The actor playing Earnest clears his throat a bit, then: “Closing up, Jerry. That’ll be 10,000 dollars. Gotta get back to the balls and—” He starts laughing, snorting even, joined by some offstage. 11, he thinks while rolling the dice just for kicks this time, then laughs even more at the results.

—-

Meanwhile, nearby Jimmy watches the cubes keep coming as a pawn falls off the table.

Or was it Johnny?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0612, Omega^^, Southern

far away from the old

“Wheeler says I got to grow up fast so’s I can married George, Milo. Whereever he is.

“So I took this job at the bar below the castle. *Pretend* job, anyways. I don’t know nothing about mixing drinks or anything, Milo. But it makes me appear *big*. In the eyes of others at least.”

Milo meows meekly, perhaps unconvinced, and moves himself and his two attached eyes on his little kitty flannel cap away from Shelley, hopping down to the ground in order to get to the milk bowl for a refresher. Suddenly she doesn’t feel that big; feels exposed again to the world with the pussy not directly in front of her, protecting her, comforting her. The castle is just out of view to her right, thankfully. She doesn’t want to think about marriage right now, nor the child that would supposedly be born from her loins despite the race difference, a child already *here* — future style. Speaking of which, here comes her first potential customer of the day her career. Wheeler, wearing the latest postmodern beachwear from Germany. At least Liz isn’t with her, she thinks — probably left up at the castle with Newt or whatever he’s going by these days. Perhaps Man in Black still. Nah, she remembers, that persona was ditched with the return to the peninsula. *Her* peninsula they kept calling it.

Wheeler spots Shelley in the distance, comes over. “Oh hi, just heading down to the ocean to catch some serious rays today. You like?” She turns around, modelling the futuristic — thing. Purple force fields instead of cloth. Daring! And the *back*… She recalls the photo in the box, the one that caused so much trouble. Borneo.

“Yeah, sure.” Does Wheeler even know? she ponders. Suddenly she wished Liz was with her so she’d have someone to talk with about all that.

“Soo… what’re *you* doing down here?” Shelley comes out from behind the bar, chickening out of the role play. “Oh nothing. Just playing, heh.” She stands awkwardly in front of the outfit, wondering how all that worked. Plasma? Lasers?

Wheeler looks in the distance again, spots the place she wants to lay to maximize her time in Our Second Lyfe’s always bright sometimes tanning sometimes burning sun. Nah, best to move one spot over so she’ll be under the umbrella later on. She looks at Shelley again with this, notes the eyes through the reflected purple glow. Still ordinary brown, it seems — no books in them yet, nor the rest of the interwebs. That will come later. But it better come quick.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0612, Nautilus, North, Rooster's Peninsula

when 6 becomes 9

Edward Daigle discovers riches underneath the larger of the 2 castles on the property. So quickly becoming a Midas figure and never having any money beforehand, he decides not to tell Jem about the find, keeping it all for himself. Maybe they’ll get married now, maybe they won’t. And anyway, she probably has only 30 good days left in her, maybe less. It was actually ten, about the same amount of days it will take for me to complete this here photo-novel, 33 in a series of, so far, 33. Totally serial about that. Jem will be dead, he thinks, and I’ll have all these gold nuggets and gems and such as consolation. If I can keep this a secret.

He suddenly has a desire to go sledding in all of it.

—–

“What did you do while I was away, Edward?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Oh you had to do *something.* Did you chop wood? I suspect you chopped wood.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Chopping wood.” He even recalled a pile chopped earlier he could point to for an alibi.

“Well *I* found John.” Oh yeah… in the excitement Edward forgot why Jem had actually left for a couple of days. John. Wait… “John?!”

“Yes: John. The John. With an L in his name.”

“Is (long pause) he dead?” But then Edward remembered that Tessa had the actual 6 shooters attached to her waist and became less worried about that.

“No.”

“Welll?”

—–

Another roll. 2 sixes again. It was becoming clear why they call her the shooter. She moves her red piece to X and pops a stick of Wriggleton spearmint gum into her mouth, irritating Edward further with the subsequent, slightly open mouth mastication. He rolls. 4. Then a 2 then a 3 then a 2. He’s on N still. She’s on W — or maybe it was V — anyway, not only ahead of him in the alphabit (as they called it in those days) but one ahead of him in rounds. When it comes to 3 or a little after he gets so upset he rakes the pieces off the board with his hands and pulls his own 6 shooters out, aiming them all around, toward apparently just observing Edward (the other Edward who, to us, remains Edward after the game and into the present), toward Tessie (our Tessa all grown up). He’d been saving them up his sleeves for a cheat. Dang, Other Edward, he thinks, knowing the 3rd pair of watching eyes joining him and Tessa near the beginning wouldn’t allow him the chance. The Edward who afterwards, to us, becomes Eddy throws one 6 shooter die at one and the other at the other. “Die” he says to each in turn, earnestly but of course without results. Is this some kind of curse? non-participating Edward thinks, rubbing his forehead and feeling a little bump forming there. This is some kind of curse, game dominating Tessie knows, feeling her own bump rise. She’d seen it before. In a bar in Midas, Nevada during the gold rush of the late 1800s. A man became so crazy he went sledding in it. In the middle of July. In circles. She’ll never forget that image, even though it’s from a different life. Rosebud.

Head still smarting, she looked down at the 6 sided die that had fallen in her lap, with 6’s on all sides, 3 visible to her in the instant. This is where it ends, she knows. She decides that her long pondered over and even inevitable tattoo will point there. She will hold ultimate power from now on, 13 always devolving to 12 when push comes to shove. And it will.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0612, Jeogeot, Towerboro

the bird beats the bug

We follow him down to the door of — where he lived? We open the door. Not a chained prisoner as we suspected a bit. Not sentient Christmas excrement Mr. Hankey from South Park, another logical candidate. But Casey One Hole. Casey One Hole, yikes!

“A Blue Bird?!” he exclaimed, truly surprised himself. “I was expecting a Cardinal or perhaps a Rooster at worst, ha ha. This should be easy.”

“He swiftly moves toward me,” Blue Bird who opened the door to the outhouse — or tramp shack or whatever it actually was — kept on explaining to the others, “towering over me, cornering me, as the toys had tried before but didn’t succeed with. Then I looked down at his ‘weapon’ and started snickering.

“‘W-what?’ he managed between snarls, and followed the direction of my eyes.

“A mop instead of a golf club. He *had* no weapon. He swatted at my head with it anyway in the subsequent intensification of anger but it just kind of tickled my cheeks. Soft as downy wings — charmed obviously. Something had happened. Casey One Hole had been neutralized through the outhouse — I knew now this was an outhouse, a bathroom set to be cleaned, perhaps in perpetuity.

“‘Better get back to it,’ I joked while pointing in its direction as he jumped up and down in frustration, then swung the mop round and round, aiming at nothing now; crazy as a beetle. I left free as a bird. Appropriate.”

“Poe fellow,” said Mistress, seeming to miss the point but actually not. She unclasped her wing-like hands and settled back in the rocking chair again. Venus on the 1/2 bed decided to sing a song.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0612, Nautilus, Omega^^, Retirement Islands, The Cross^, Wild West

boxed in (no 257)

I wonder if Mr. Z ever made it off Tina’s islet over there,” she ponders, sipping on a cocktebeerl to try to soothe her still weak and rumbling stomach. Maybe we should start over and begin at that Art Box in the sim’s corner — see what else leads into the island. Perhaps fresh characters? May be too late for that. Only about 5 or 6 posts left in this here photo-novel, 31 in a series of… 31 in a series… *siiighh*.

She thinks back to the calendar opened up to February and what lay underneath it. Red. Lots of red. She spills her guts over the deck’s railing, carefully avoiding the flowers this time.

Later with her one good eye, she decides to find out.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0612, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West

completed Table

Grassy Noll had shifted one chair down to make room for Nauty, but he said that wasn’t what it sounded like. It was just short for Nautilus (continent) — he wasn’t some kind of sex toy doll, he reinforced. “Or was he?” he then joked, and repositioned the pin near his navel in a most inappropriate way, getting a laugh from Wheeler at least.

“So you can help with our pin cushion problem,” said Baker, staying serious because he had a big problem. The Nautilus map behind Nauty had been itself overrun with red pins, marking locations already featured in the blog and with more to come. He needed organization, he needed categorization. What is the true relationship of Lower and Upper Austra? How is the North, deemed non-Austran, really different? And what of the Wild West, the Mild East, the *Southwest*, where he’d just been with Man About Time? And then: Collagesity. Between Highways 13 and 14 that stood for M and N. Soo much there already.

“Yes,” answered Nauty, and then said he had a Rubber Soul. Baker thought about this for a moment and realized it meant he was beyond Help (!). If it kept progressing in this direction he’d need a Revolver to end it all.

“You mean *I* have a Rubber Soul,” he said to Nauty.

“Yes.”

Across from him, Opp or Tropp (True Opp) had also shifted one chair over to make room for another newcomer, this Al guy we’ve already mentioned several posts back, the last one set in Paper-Soap in my new rental there, the one in front of Soap Beach but in the Paper sim, the place where the dead wash up in banded groups, ready to be sudsed and bubbled for rebirthing purposes. Wash away the sins type of deal. More newcomers. Perhaps, secretly, Al with his multiple faces was one of ’em. Also: Nauty. Maybe Jinx Doll as well. Seems too coincidental they’re here.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0612, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, North, Paper, Paper Soap, Rim Isles, Rooster's Peninsula, Slaashsides, Southwestern, Upper Austra^, Wild West, Yd Island^

SID B.

It was hard to tell how old she was from this distance, this Raspberry Girl. She wore old style clothing that’s for sure. But I knew she was my salvific force, the thing I needed to live on in the minds and hearts of others. So I decided to approach her.

—–

“A date?” she said daintily. “But you hardly know me. We just met.” I had to get to know her better, study what made her tick. Why the change of time revolving around her. Two thousand zero zero: party was suppose to be over, out of time. Yet here she is. It was a cloudy day, which means she’s not the brightest. But perhaps that is an act as well — probably is. I *sense* this.

I am a powerful entity or personality I know that. I can change the course of history. I can come back. But I have to have help.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0612, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

all together now

“Wrong Way Winnie (Sheltering the Tou)”:

“Looking at a Cave that is not a Cave (Satin’s Rule!)”:

“The Situation Escalates (Bored Removal)”:

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0612, animation, collages 2d

00270612

Hookah here, hookah over there (on the other porch). The Anomaly grows. Not sure I can complete the story in this novel. Code name: Caterpillar, perhaps WORM (WURM). Freshly formed Martin at the window may know. Martin, Luther.

He moves inside, takes a seat at the bar. The glowing birthday hat and Giant for a Day blue t-shirt gave away his identity.

“I’m on the other side of the counter now, ‘Umbriel, Stu’. You serve *me*.”

“You tell him Martin!” encouraged another new figure from his position next to the door, a gatekeeper of sorts.

“That’s all right — Luther is it?” Stu Umbriel guesses, taking the switcheroo with the person formerly known as Chief in stride. “I’ll get my twin sister Loo to help with the bar. Right over there she lives.” Stu points beyond the house next door now set up with a duplicate hookah to his — and even on the same spot on the porch — to the dark opening on the eastern edge of Swamp Lake, not big enough to become a sea and getting further from that designation back to out-and-out swamp every day. Atrophism. Maybe that has something to do with the Anomaly as well.

“We’re not identical as you know, Luther, but close,” he furthers. The Sewer hole beckons.

In checking back through my posts, I see I have overlooked mention of Paper Soap’s Swamp Lake up until now. Here’s an overhead view, Chief Stu’s bar toward the north next to the sheriff’s office where the Anomaly was first spotted. Probably should catch up with chef-inspector Petty to see how he’s doing.

“WURM” he spoke with conviction at the meeting still going just north of the Swamp Lake bar, naming the thing at last. “And spell that with a U and omit the E. I think.” Conviction wavering, apparently. Missing letters will do that to you.

Gee Cat 02, now just Gee Cat period — having ate the other — prepares to move inside.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0612, Paper Soap, Soap