Harlequin moves from the darkened corner of the courtyard into the house with Columbine, Pierrot having shuffled off below the event horizon like a dying orbital sun. The oldest extant animation ends here with the created black hole, paint applied gelatin finishing its run.
—–
“Now let’s get to the other one, Daisy. Father you say?”
“Father I say.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0613, animation, collages 2d, Jeogeot, Michigan, Nawt Vaya, NVFS
“You were standing right where you are now,” explained Philip as best he could from the couch again. “You said, get this, Newton’s ship *just blew up*. Like *that’s* going to happen. We’ll be out of here by tomorrow’s today. I’m on record for not liking it but that’s what’ll happen I suppose. Nawt Vaya here we come (sarcastic tone of voice).”
“But…” stammered Marion, indeed at the window and that’s about it for the truth of Philip’s talk, at least in his own world view. “… Newton’s ship *did* blow up. The atomics he used to supercharge the sim skipper malfunctioned — imagine that: dangerous atomic *fission*. If only he’d waited for fusion, but I guess we didn’t have the time. OR the effort, pheh.”
“Fission — dangerous? Nah. You’re on drugs, Marion.”
“*You’re* on drugs,” Marion quickly shot back.
And Philip realized he was, or the equivalent thereof.
It was that damn High Speed game. It reactivated something in his brain. He was in 2 places at once when… well, you know. Nowhere at all actually. The Void.
He kept falling and falling and falling. “Help!” he yelped. “Hellllllppppp!” But noone was there, not even a single Beatle. If he would have waited for Yesterday, but he assumed that would only be tracking backwards. Right over the retired, NON-atomic sim skipper named Dizzy Miss Lizzy Gastonites will have to manage with from now on, or at least until fusion.
But it doesn’t have the power to get them all the way to Nawt Vaya. Just some neighboring sims like Hard Days Night and Californication at best. Local travel only.
They were disappointed that they couldn’t sit directly across from each other and talk. Tessa had found something in her book about the Windsong fairy and wanted to tell Carolin. But she had to wait. All she could do in the moment was give a big thumbs up to her mate, her gal pal from the old days in the caves. Carolin returned with a thumbs up of her own. She’d found something too. Cat-people. Secret room. Somewhere around the Windsong portal. So two Windsong finds. Although they couldn’t talk with each other to coordinate the tales and make them as one. Because that’s what they were.
Benny Right Horn knows this too now, having visited the End of Time library several days back and coordinating the two stories himself. Rebl and Guyd were two cat-people, cat *aliens* indeed, who were left behind as the rest of their kind boarded the Mother Ship waiting for them in space and went back home to their red cube planet, probably circling the giant red star Betelgeuse by the color of it, Benny determined. And that’s where my brother must have gone, he thought. He’d also heard about the 1 after 909 ship from Big Ass Franz the bartender at the castle in the skies. Upon threat of death, sharp and long knife blade held to throat. Despite his flabby, unkept appearance, Benny had expert military training in the Queen’s army too just like his trimmer shaped and sharper dressed brother. The Queen, who just happened to be their mother, insisted on the training; knew it would come in handy to save their lives not once but a number of times most likely. She’d seen them argue as toddlers and then argue and fight in their schools as children and teenagers and then argue and fight and argue in their jobs as so-called grown ups quote unquote. Troublemakers these two were. But they were *her* troublemakers still. She had to make sure they were protected.
He wouldn’t stick to the tracks this time, because that just shoots you out the other side, he knew from his prior visit. But he also wouldn’t try to pick his way through the rest of the dangerous, labyrinthine cave system to find the cat-people’s hidden lair and be led astray that way. He’ll stay put in one place, and he knows precisely where this should be.
The pretty nature room adjacent to the watery Windsong sim Portal. Whatever goes down, it will happen here — he’ll *make* it happen.
Setting up camp for the night…
… and *quietly* warming up on the guitar, he he he. He’s had expert training that way as well — but it’s been a while.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0613, End of Time^^
Inside the fence now, wire cutters successfully employed to fulfill the dream duty needed. Let’s find out what’s in that building.
Definitely the Data Hall, good — the right place. Now to go deeper; more inside.
Internal passageway revealed by pulling this lever? Why not? Must see this through to the end since I’ve gotten this far. Alarm clock not set to go off until 9. 8:45 now. I have a bit of time left. But what’s time in a world like this that time’s forgotten? Not much.
Ahhh! A human! Sliding out from within those banks of computers; almost woke me up 7 minutes too early with his appearance but not quite. He speaks (!):
“Jack Shepherde’s not mad at me is he?” he begins cryptically enough. “I was just looking at the computers to see where all my favorite people went to. It’s been a long time since I read computer works, though, so I can’t figure out how to get their location out of the machine. I think it’s time for me to go home. Thank you for opening the door.”
And with that he glides past me in his slidey way with no steps required and down the passageway I came in through and out the front door as I followed him as best I could. I then went back to the room with the computers but the door was closed again, and immediately when I pulled down the lever like I did before, the alarm went off, RIIIIIING. I awoke in something of a sweat, knowing I didn’t have the information I needed. 9:01. Better get dressed for breakfast. Linda coming over at 9:30. Should take a shower too but it’ll be close. And at any rate, hair will be wet when she arrives because of no time to dry. Wet’s not good. Shower can wait. Slap on some deodorant, brush my teeth, drag a comb across my head and I’m good.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0613, Back Rooms, Europe, Holland
He had some time to kill before he was needed again, so Edward D. decided to explore a bit more of this re-creation of Cyberpunk 2007’s Night City occurring out in the Estate sims, beyond just his involvement with Shelley Emily. At the core of this re-creation: Lizzy’s HoloCore nightclub, run by our own, chrome plated Tin Lizzy. Or at least tin. That’s one of the things I want to discuss when I catch up with her next through one character or another, perhaps Edward D. but perhaps not — perhaps here but perhaps not here as well. Why the switch from gold to tin in the conversion of Night City to Nightsity? And since this is Our Second Lyfe, I suppose this is Nightsity too, so she’ll be that dulled silver color again when we meet up with her in person, like we’ve seen at least once before in this here photo-novel, 44 in a series. I’m guessing it had something to do with a humbling and coming back down to earth, since tin in alchemy is often described as a base metal leading to gold, where you start the whole process from. Along with the more commonly named lead in this role. Here we can turn to Texas for more information, specifically one county in the longhorn state named Coleman. What’s going on here? Cornering the gold market?
Anyhoot, back to Edward and the present. He reads more about this particular brand of Nightsity in the floating text at the entrance:
Hmm. Corners again.
And peeking around the corner or edge of Lizzy’s nightclub in the still-being-built city: that damn, bright red apple tree popping up again, sometimes called cherry. But we know better.
(to be continued)
“If you were smart, you’d figure out more about the beanstalk through Wyatt in Missouri.”
“Who’s there? Who’s that?”
Pause. “Wilson,” she decided to say.
—–
I’m not sure why I liked thunderstorms at night so much but when they came I almost inevitably found myself outside exploring the roads and byways of Tousaint, drenched or not. Tonight was no exception.
Maybe it was the lack of people around to distract me from my thoughts but these beaten paths weren’t very populated even in the center of the day so that wasn’t much of a reason. And I didn’t mind chatting with an occasional acquaintance or even friend I might meet along the way. Good way to keep up with gossip about the realm.
So what was it?
Sometimes my new dog Chomp would follow me onto the road during these nights but would always turn back upon the first loud thunderclap. That one time I took graytop mushrooms before going out, putting the green after it instead of before for a change, alchemically speaking. “Damn!!” he issued loudly in a surprisingly feminine voice for such a butch appearing mutt at the initial boom. “I’m out of here, boss!” and hightailed back home. That’s when I decided to put the grey before the green more often and listen to what he had to say. A lot as it turned out! He seemed to know more about the realm than any single person for sure. And even beyond its borders, far far beyond…
“I get it now Wheeler. There’s a boat here on the mountain. Hence: Boat Mountain.”
“Also known as Mountain of Boat or Mount Boat,” added Wheeler for Newt, perhaps a hubby, perhaps not.
“Okay, cool. So that’s done.”
“It is.”
Newt looks around. “Nice view up here. Let’s go sit on that bench we passed and enjoy the mountain air for a while.”
“Okay. But we have to get back home before Indie Cartoon Night. Starting at 7.” They begin walking toward the bench just over the top.
“Amazing Digital Circus, Episode 2. I’ve heard,” he speaks while being careful about the rocks.
“I’ve previewed it for us. Don’t expect it to be the same as the first. I *know* you’ll be disappointed. I just know it.”
“Maybe not — but thanks for preparing me anyway.” Reaching the bench they sit down.
“What’s this one about?” he asks. “Abstracting again?”
“In part,” answers Wheeler, not wanting to give away too much. “More action — I know you like action in your animation,” she jokes. Newt dislikes most action scenes; thinks they’re superfluous to a character driven plot.
“Aah, I see.”
“And there’s some backroom stuff,” she countered, knowing that would please him. “And that’s *all* I’m going to say.” She pats him on the knee after checking the time on her phone. “6:25 now. Better head back, actually.”
Newt takes one last look around. “I was hoping we could see Millbank from this vantage point. Maybe a little too far away here.”
“There,” points Wheeler. “I think those black trees sticking up may be part of it.”
“Amazing the Halloween village is still there. Last year it was taken down in maybe November or something.”
“Just for you my dear.” She pats his knee again. “To keep you happy.”
—–
They had just settled into the comfy couch after turning on the TV when the doorbell rang. But it was all part of the plan, the act.
“M & M Lawn Care here!” the taller of the two shouted through the door. “Lawn maintenance at your service!”
—–
put to work
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0613, ADC, Ashton Village, Back Rooms, Bellisaria
Baker Bloch and bee-person/blog guru Hucka Doobie share a pizza while Philip continued to play his game over there, watching from afar as the virtual trailer park slowly repopulates itself with killable, expendable NPCs.
“You sure bringing Strevor back is a good idea, Baker? He’s kind of a psycho after all, especially if he’s off his pills. Does he have his pills on him, Baker? I hope you made sure of that. Else… we could be in a lot of trouble shortly… after he’s finished with his game and becomes bored again. Boredom leads to violence in this case. Believe me, I’ve seen it up close and personal when I was going out with Marion that brief bit in Gaston.”
“Sure it is,” Baker defended the idea. “He’ll, in fact, lead us right to your true love Marion Star Harding. They’re natural partners in crime — different types of partners.”
“I wondered about that for a while,” she said, scooping the artichokes off her slice. Baker knows I don’t like artichokes! she fumes internally. Yet, in his selfish manner, he ordered them anyway, not thinking about his dinner companion. So similar to Marion in that way, she thinks. But she loves him anyhow — both of ’em, she reckons. In different ways of course. Now.
—–
Okay, I’m beside the sign Philip said he would meet me at, Marion Star Harding thinks; now I just wait. He sniffs again, his face screws up like a walnut again. Philip better hurry, though, or I’m going to catch some kind of respiratory disease just standing here so close to that cursed sea, he thinks, not being able to get the rotted egg and salt stench out of his nostrils despite breathing through his mouth once more. What horrible germs and viruses are going down in his lungs?
Meanwhile on the opposite side of town, still portal hopping Marsha “Pink” Krakow seemingly arrives on the scene in her orange VW Beetle. After a long 2 1/2 month journey we’ve finally come full circle, you and I my loyal reader. We’re ready to end it here. But first we need to get Philip and Marion beside the same sign in the same town. A phone call from the latter should do the trick.
—–
“I’m here,” Philip said to his natural partner but not his lover. “Sorry about the mistake.”
“It’s that game again,” guesses Marion correctly. Distraction, he knew.
“Yup. Sorry again. Wrong reality.”
Having circled around the village in search of the correct Aisle of Palms indicator, the orange VW pulls up in perfect synchronicity. “Get in,” she said, and, without words, they did. They’d been expecting her. Their beloved Billie Jean Kidd in yet another guise, the third and final gang member and a shapeshifter of some power. She can take the appearance of a kid, an old woman, a young lady, a dog (poodle), and last but not least, a Bug. In short, Marsha “Pink” Krakow was never in the car to begin with here.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0613, Big Woods, California, Google Street View, GTA, Jeogeot
Marsha thought they could talk freely here during the night in the park between all the buildings of the compound. Little did she know the trees, the birds, the flowers, even the bugs: bugged. Dr. Mouse would analysis the recordings later from his various sources. Eddie looked up at the big fat full silver moon before starting his soliloquy, “I love you,” being the summary sentence.
“Run away?” she said about one of the other parts, the “plan” we’ll call it.
“Yeah,” he said at the time. “Look over there. Between the bushes. I brought you something.” Broad smile. About time to say the “love” part.
Yet another bug, seemingly a different kind this time. But it was miked up as well, along with having an attached tracker. And perhaps even another one of those explosive time bombs, but definitely the first two. And maybe even Eddy, her Edward, put them there, in cahoots with the good Dr. Mouse by this point. Maybe he knows about all the bugs here. Thanks to the mother once more.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0613, Omega^^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^
https://hyperallergic.com/842222/who-did-this-to-basquiats-old-manhattan-studio/
Doodlehedz can still see underneath the Pink. She hasn’t given up hope.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0613, New York
Sunklands 