Category Archives: 0612

sedimentation

After I saw what I saw at the Blue Airfield I decided to pay a visit to my old friend Tigertail while in the neighborhood and discuss all of it with him. He’d been overseeing my actions for a long time.

Not in his shop. And there’s the time-plunger I first used to travel through the centuries and beyond (!)

A prototype, and I was a guinea pig. Oh well, paid for my first 3 years in college in Mesopotamia. 50 bucks (lindens) goes a long way back then. It’s over now, and luckily I’m only mildly confused about all of it. I think. Time to find Tigerhead.

*There* he is. In that giant snowflake seen in the opening to the sky. “Hello Tiger… er, just Tiger!” But Tiger existed in a different strata of time than MAT presently, one operating much more slowly, frozen even (to us). He’d visited the Blue Airfield partially in Gray one too many times himself and this is what happened.

In a larger perspective, Tiger sees different times as islands in a sea of space. “Oh look at me, I’m standing on Mesopotamia,” he wanted to joke to his former pupil but couldn’t because of the whole frozen thing. Can’t… move.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0612, Color Sims^, Sansara^^

filling

“Shop’s closed,” Judd offered from the stairs, staring at the back of his sister Eldwina, who was dressing more and more like a little hooker each passing day, he thought. Maybe she would join the City Squad soon.

The coffee shop just down the walk was most assuredly not closed — perhaps the kids were talking about another place (they were). Charlene Brown the pseudo-punk was washing her hands when I came in, looking for stories.

“Be with you in a minute,” she calls as she counts. 16 Mississippi, 17 Mississippi… almost done. 19….. done. She turns.

“Oh it’s you. Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Yeah. Almost forgot how to get here. And then those kids…”

“Aw, jeez. Don’t get me started (about those kids).”

“Yeah, the one on the stairs…”

“He’s *always* sitting on those stairs.”

“Yeah, he said you were closed up.”

“Nope. As you can see. Maybe he was talking about the old Same Coffee Shop. It’s a basic duplicate of this one. Except: closed. That must be it.” She studies him more. Maybe a little grayer around the temples. Maybe a new wrinkle here and there. But not much change. For all the passing years.

“I’m here again.”

“Oh?” A twinkle in her eye. “She’d just dumped her 5th boyfriend in 5 months. There was the age different but… he was still attractive. She liked the gray. Distinguished, as they say. “In Black Ice?”

“No, but just up the road.”

“Apple’s Orchard?” she guessed again. “Neptune?” She paused. “Marwood, even?”

“Marwood, that’s it,” I decided. “Up at the new temple. I stay in an apartment in the air.”

“I don’t get up there that much — the northern part of the city.”

“Now now,” I reprimanded. “You’re not suppose to say that word any longer.”

“City?” she provided and then smiled. “It’ll change. We just have to get rid of the *other* cities clinging onto the main one. Like…”

“Meat City,” I proffered. “Zen City — well, that’s *already* gone, poof.” I threw up my hands in a poor imitation of a miniature atomic blast but she smiled all the same. Always laughing at my mainly lame jokes. Good ol’ Charlene. I decided to ask about Charlie. I wish I hadn’t.

—–

“It was Halloween night. Just day before yesterday, then. Out in the pumpkin patch. He didn’t listen to his pseudo-girlfriend’s brother about the demon that always showed up there that night. Neither of them made it. Just a blood patch now.” She starts to cry again, tears dripping into her cup and on the tablecloth. I didn’t know what to add. I’d said I was sorry several times now. I desired to leave, frankly — this wasn’t the story I was looking for. Oh look, though, she’s holding my hand now. She’s looking deep into my eyes with that twinkle again. Maybe this will work to my advantage. The last time we saw each other I was obsessed with another. But I’m older now; she’s older, although you’d never know it. It’s like time stood still for her. And maybe it had. Did she make a pact with someone, ho?

And what about that ill placed vending machine over there we got our hot beverages from? That’s new. Just then, Jeffrey Phillips’ cup vanishes into nothingness but Charlene’s remains. She knew how to replenish it automatically and bridge the gaps.

—–

In the closed duplicate coffee shop, Apples 02’s chair turned sideways and she knew lover Appleyon’s plan had worked. Now to get back to Somerset and try it on Apples 01. The bastard.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0612, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, Marwood, Meat City, Neptune, NWES Island^, Somerset

“Half and Hole”

“If you approach things with a sense of humor, people immediately assume you’re not to be taken seriously. But I think truths about society and human existence can be approached in different ways. You don’t always have to be deadly serious. Sarcasm and humor can help you see things in a lighter vein.”

“It’s an extension of my old work into collage. The 3d Venus turns into herself (again) only to be a hole. Kind of like Warhole over there, ha.”

“Very funny.” Warhole didn’t laugh. Warhole hardly never laughs at nothing. The a-hole.

Ant, who was closer to Barry 02 and staring at his newest work with him (Warhole was staring away or looking at his feet or the ceiling, take your pick), spoke up again. “It’s wonderful. 2 4th floor works now. We want to commission you, me and Harrison Jett. You may remember him from the art rock group Beet, like a sugar beet. In fact, that was their original names: the Sugar Beets. Came out from the praries of Idaho around Rupert and Paul. Family all worked in that kind of factory, except for Uncle Bob. He was different. He was a frog.”

“We’ve been through that,” replied Barry 02, thinking back to the figure and symbol filled chalkboard of his most recently remembered dream. “But his name was Bullfrog.”

“That’s just what he *was*.”

Andy Warhole finally turns toward the work from his more distant, angly position. “I’ll give you 50,000 lindens for it, final offer. I’ll give it to Yoko Ona as a wedding present for her most recent marriage to John. I’ll let Marilyn kiss it for good luck before the ceremony with her permamark lips. I’ll let [delete name] [delete] all over it with his [delete]. Then it will be ready, then it will be good.” Andy Warhole pulls an attache case out from under the couch next to him. He always has it ready for an art purchase. Always 50,000 lindens for the nobodys, not less but certainly no more. Always over 50,000 for the somebodys.

Barry 02 pondered the deal. This means he could make art for a 1/2 year without any hassles of an outside job. He could paint canvases without painting walls or ceilings. He could sculpt with garbage instead of throwing it away with a group of similarly grody smelling men into bins. Binmen I think they call them across the pond, the ocean. “Okay.” Andy slides the attache case from the couch over to Barry 02. He’s almost sold his soul. One touch of the money and he’s done.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0612, Nautilus^^

blub blub blub (sinking)

Sammy Whatammy went home after work and just sat here usually. She never saw sister Tammy. Nammy and Pammy never called — it’s like they didn’t exist. Only Crayola and herself, waiting for this mysterious boss to show up.

“How long was it last week? 3 weeks?”

“Welllllll,” replied Crayola, stretching out words with her large red mouth like she’s wont to do. “Tiiiimme does work difffereeentllly upp therrrrre.”

Looking down at her still normalized shoes, the only bit that remained, she remembered why she never saw Tammy: Witchery.

“Yooouurr cryiinnng. Wouldd youu like anotther sheeetttt?”

—–

Two weeks and 36 bar shifts later, the boss shows up, golf club in hand. This was his club, and Sammy and Crayola were his slaves servants.

“Hey!” he harshly cried through the underwater window. “Wake up in there and open the door!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0612, Heterocera^^, Iris^

switch 02

“I’m always having to hoooovverr in here for a proper sit,” Marty complains softly, still sorry that he had to absorb that poor girl Marsha “Pink” Krakow for the Greater Good by dying his hair black again. Almost half a meter higher than his median Second Lyfe position now, he returns his attention to the red doors.

—–

“We want to make sure it’s someone believable that enters those doors, Baker Bloch.”

“Sure, Hucka Doobie.” She keeps staring at him. “Oh — me?”

“*No*. It’s not always about you. *Me*.” She points to herself in the teal boathouse still rented by Baker Bloch in town, having given up on the green one closer to the church just today. Former occupant SEAN is truly gone from Storybrook: back to New Orleans for him, sans Marsha to his great disappointment. He should have never tried the Big Reveal. “Marsha was just too young, too *brainwashed*,” he speaks aloud to The Mann (her father) 5 years later in the New Orleans Blues Little Rock bar in nearby Little Rock, Arkansas.  A pity visit that turned into friendship and beyond: The Mann now truly loves this 28 year old black man with developing arthritis just as much as his little girl in ways. “I’m — sorry you had to leave, SEAN,” he spoke soon after arriving, looking out at the current of the stream sweeping another magic toy down to the bay.

—–

“Come with *me*, fellow hoverer.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0612, Corsica^^, Storybrook^

hot

“You were all elevating each other,” spoke Monroe, wise from the night before. “Propping each other up, *feeding* off each other. You, *Peter*.” He points to Axis here. “‘Lamb’,” he cites. “You, Marty.” Points to softly strumming Marty here, composing yet another potential gold plated single. “‘Venus and Mars’. Am I right?” He looks toward The Man who looks down at his foot. “Am I right?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0612, Corsica^^, Northwest^

to remember it by (Treasure Hill continuation)

“I keep looking out that window and thinking there’s someone sitting up on that giant live oak limb, staring at us. But it’s just that dark angel in the middle of the pond over there.”

“One hour ’til sunrise,” urges Eight-seven beside her, formerly Eighty-eight.

“Match tonight — better try to get some sleep.” Eighty-six now.

—–

Surely Wheeler will be alright on her own this *one* time, thinks rocking Baker Blinker back in Collagesity at her Gloomy Gus house. The 88’s will be with her.

But someone indeed has followed Wheeler to the wrestling arena in what use to be Morgan-Julia. And is manipulating time and space around her.

“One more piece then I’m done,” mutters Cpt. Americus, trying to polish off his bucket of chicken so he can think properly about another evil plot to hatch.

The stream rages on…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0017, 0612, Lower Austra^, Mountain Lake^, Nautilus^^, Omega^^

on point

I look in a mirror and see myself as not quite me. Alice F. — Alice Farrowheart. Why the formalities? And Percy is right. We should talk to her together, public servant and private dick as one. We are a swell team, she realizes, standing back a bit and trying to adjust her hair the same way as in the mirror. It doesn’t quite work.

—–

“You’ll have to forgive my lack of furniture and niceties here in my apartment, fellow women! I spend a lot of time in the South — Black Drake or Black Dragon to most. The Red Umbrella (gallery) is there, of course. And some other galleries and nice shops — the place is still growing! Very exciting times here in the town. I’m looking for a reasonable apartment down there. That’s a joke — they’re *all* pretty reasonable here in this NWES city. New WES City it was originally called, you know. Named for a large burg in the past down the coast a bit. That’s where Ingor…”

“Ms. Farrowheart,” pleaded private dick Percy Pierce, tired of the babbling. Enthusiastic to talk — yes, that’s a plus. But it must be guided stream-of-consciousness. “We need to get down to the bottom of it. We’ve mentioned that woman upstairs, the one who sits in the hammock all the time.”

“Oh, she doesn’t sit there *all* the time. She has a double!”

Jodie Tanner and Percy Pierce exchange glances. “W-what do you mean: a double?” offers Tanner, daring to jump in. She quickly amends the conversation. “Mind you this is *off* the record, Alice F.. Notice I called you Alice F. there again? That’s because we’re off duty. *I’m* off duty.” She shakes her head toward Percy, acknowledging the gaff. They’re becoming one and the same more each passing day. Sharing bodies, sharing fluids. Two hearts as one.

Alice F. winds up again. “Oh she has a *belt*. I looked it up; it’s called a Great Belt. That’s the actual name of the thing. Well, she uses that belt to teleport in and around all over the place, but the belt *projects* a double still sitting up there in that hammock. With hardly a stitch of clothes on,” Alice F. complains again, rather old fashioned in those ways.

“So…,” attempts Jodie Tanner. “Kind of like, um, Wonderwoman?”

“Ahem,” piped up Percy Pierce in clearance, more aligned with the cartoon world of superheroes. “I think you may be thinking more of Batman. Or maybe Batgirl, hmm.” She turned to Alice F. “Is that what you mean, though? Some kind of talisman with, er, superpowers?”

“*No*. It’s mainly used as a toy.”

“Toy?” Jodie and Percy both exclaim.

“I’ve seen her down in Black Drake or Blake Dragon with the thing on. She *doesn’t* just sit up there in that hammock in Marwood. This is more a North-South connection. But Black is where (the belt is most powerful); more closely aligned with what it *really* is.”

“Martial arts?” attempts Jodie again. Wrongly.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0016, 0612, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot^^, Marwood, NWES Island^

in the middle

“Ahh! A monster!”

“Oh thank God. A beautiful princess…

… with a death skull face *panic*!”

“What *is* this place?”

“And where the hell did the clown go? Over there?”

—–

—–

“Oh God! Lost control! Spinning…!”

—–

“Okay, there’s the Lord,” Crocogator continues, “safe” on the other side now. “But I can’t concentrate on him because of all these *slapping tentacles*. This is not Heaven. It’s Hell!”

“And where’s that horrible, gut wrenching ‘music’ coming from?”

“Certainly not from over *there*.”

“Can’t… *move*.”

—–

“How long to keep him in the cat place, sire?”

“Oh, a couple hollers more should do it.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0015, 0612, Maebaleia/Satori^^, X-City^

THIS SIM 04 03

“We have brought you here to the Hills of Bill to make contact. Love… war… contact.”

“Wheeler,” I state. “What is it you want from me?”

“To set up The Table again. My Table, yes, but also your Table. In 7 Stones if you wish, yes. That seems to be your wish. No?”

“Collagesity is dead, Wheeler.”

“My Collagesity, yes.”

“But we still have The Table. We still have 7 Stones, the replacement.”

“You know what we need to do: Billfork. Lennon plus Pink Floyd plus Firesign Theatre all in one. A great 3-n-1. But it needs *work*. Yours. But also mine. I will help from the other side end.

—–

“You’re probably wondering what happened to Professor Suckaluck but you’ll have to wait for another night.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0014, 0612, Hills of Bill^, Maebaleia/Satori^^