Category Archives: 0705

February 2, 2023 · 2:42 am

00360705

“What are all these… plywoods?” the struggling, swaying giant walker boomed down. 10 yards made, about 20 to go.

“Never mind that Carrcassonnee, we need to focus on that opening in front of us — the main entrance to the castle. You need to get low enough so that you’ll fit through that door. I know you can do it. Get a little closer then start bending down, bending down. Sloow and easyy.”

Carrcassonneee and her great olive body cooperated. 15 minutes later she was through the opening and out in the open, 7th spire straight ahead.

—–

“We’re going to have to do it again, Carrcassonnee. Bend down — get a little closer first again. It’s going to be a little lower this time — sorry. Don’t lose your balance. I’m right here.” A lot of good I’ll do, Mahoney thinks at this point, if she starts to topple. All he can really do is be a cheerleader, urging her forward and to the scene of the bath. The soap had all been prepared. Dove, not Ivory. Because Carr has to *see* it all. Ivory would just sting the eye. They learned that the hard way back in Rubi, way back in photo-novel 1. Because we’ve gone full circle.

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November 28, 2022 · 12:39 pm

00350705

“We demand to see The Wizard!” spoke Lichen and Liz together after marching into the room, trotting into it even.

“Wizard?” replied receptionist Cathy Catchulater. “Oh. You mean *Abs*. The Wizard *boss*.”

“Well,” said Lichen for the both of them, being the eldest by 10 or 15 years or days, “that could be him I suppose. What does he look like?”

Cathy showed them a picture she had ready for the question.

“Yeah,” she sighed and peered over at also onlooking Liz. “I suppose that’s him.” Alien, she thinks. Grey even. What have we gotten ourselves into??

“Have a seat on a cube, any cube,” said Cathy C. “He should be with you in about 10 or 15 minutes or days. Just kidding. He’ll see you now. He was waiting for you. President’s Ball.”

“Presidents?” uttered Liz, quite lost by now. She was into the whole horse persona deeper than Lichen, who had escaped the iciest clutches of The Void. Seeing this, Lichen ditched her own, got rid of the plume, harness, that *tail*, yeck.

“Now *you*,” she commanded over as the confusion lifted. Freedom!

——

But Liz didn’t have the guts to do it, fear retaking the reigns. She stood up from the cube and took a seat at the mirror in the guts of the town, waiting, like her equine fellows, for the next customer, hopefully a fellow this time. Because, unlike most of the batty people around her, the *inmates*, she wasn’t a switch hitter. Heck, she wasn’t even a pinch hitter, needing out in the worstest way. However her story is more complicated than the rest, perhaps, and we’ll have to wait till a future photo-novel to find out more about our lovely Liz, our beacon of hope. Goodbye for now! And the best of luck until you find an opening. Hold onto Trixy — she’s a dear. And Betty, despite her faults (like long and unexplained hiatuses from the, er, set), has a heart of gold. Argent — stay away from her, despite the name symbolizing purity as well. And Angel will act as a mother figure to you all. Build your imaginations. Pretend that you are somewhere far away with someone very special indeed, without warts and awful battle wounds and all those other things you will encounter. Stay strong, stay brave!

“Next!” calls Angel from the front room.

“That’s you,” Trixy says softly from the bed beside her.

“‘Bout time,” gruffed Argent with crossed arms in the corner. Think that’s it. Betty was in a different game this week exploring San Andreas.

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December 31, 2021 · 8:32 am

Eagle Hell

“We should end here. On this Heart Line. Mind if I join you?” she then requested via im. I sent her a teleport invite, but she didn’t land in the right spot. She was over her head in lava.

“Huckaaaa!!!!!”

—–

And so we finish just like Paul Panther did. Our hero, or heroine in this case, consumed by a fiery volcano. But sacrifice for a greater good again, I suppose, “bad” guys chopped up like suey with his surfboard.

“Bazoooo!!!!!”

Then after the fall, NY Cop scrambles over the rocks at the top and assumes attack position.

“Alright, everybody freeze!!!!!”

Everything’s going to be okay.

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November 7, 2021 · 8:11 am

new plane

She looked over. “You are one again.”

“And so are you,” he quickly replied in his higher register voice, exactly one octave higher to be precise. “Jennifer Lane through and through, switched out from twin cousin Shelley Lane, aka Shelley Struthers (in Part 04). Marvelous.”

“And who,” Jennifer asks, “is this?” She looked to his left, but to an onlooker the chair would still be empty. We’ll thus withhold a picture until the end.

“Biff Carter,” answers Triangle between both Square and Circle, absorbing them. “You’ve met before, remember?”

“Maybe,” she shot back, getting defensive. Why was she getting defensive?

“I thought it would be best to end with the 3 cores getting together again. We should do this every once in a while. Catch up with each other. It’s taxing to the computer, but… the new one: not so much. Good you got a new computer during the pandemic.” He takes a sip of tea, ready for the other one (core) in the room to speak. Better prepare him. First we have to minimize a window, then log in the third… shouldn’t be long. Oops, he’s naked. Better get him some clothes, ha. And some tea.

“You!” Jennifer exclaimed about the manifestation. No collage needed for this one. 3 cores. Nifty. But it wasn’t Biff Carter.

“Pocket cup,” Triangle declared, moving his tea cup up into his shirt pocket to lighten the mood. We weren’t quite done yet.

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April 17, 2021 · 7:58 am

state of mind and body

The penultimate song of Mabel Montana’s set had just ended. Time now for her theme song. But first…

“Well, *that* was interesting,” Stumpy spoke over to Gotham, both high on something tonight of course. “I guess we know what Dinah and Moe hum together.”

“Shhh,” spoke Gotham over to his head friend. “Montana’s starting.”

“Yeah, errr, I know. She’s started singing again.” Even though it was just a hum in the beginning, a purposeful carryover by the alien Martian girl clad to the hilt in lime green garb.

“*No*. Just listen. I *know* this song.” She starts in earnest.

I might be movin’ to Montana soon
Just to raise me up a crop of
Dental Floss
Raisin’ it up
Waxen it down
In a little white box
I can sell uptown

Baker Bloch spoke over the music. “She’s really quite good, you know. In a karaoke kind of way.”

“You’re lucky I’m even talking to you again, lover boy,” Hucka Doobie said back.

“Another… drink guys?” Wheeler now, tending the bar.

“Make it a double,” the other woman at the bar said, scooting an empty glass toward her. “No, a *triple*.” She glanced at Baker again, a smirk still on his face. She wished she could just wipe that expression off his dead mug like a state from a map. Montana’s second verse began…

I’m pluckin’ the ol’ dennil floss
That’s growin’ on the prairie
Pluckin’ the floss!
I plucked all day an’ all nite an’ all afternoon
I’m ridin’ a small tiny hoss
His name is…

Mabel stopped singing, lowered the microphone. The music continued on without her.

“Mighty Little!” offered Gotham from the back, thinking she had forgotten the lines. “The horse’s name is…”

“I can’t do this,” she interrupted Gotham, who was just trying to help. Okay, helping but also a little pissed off that his buzz was being killed. He was grooving! “I’m going home.”

Baker turned to Hucka Doobie and also Wheeler. “What just happened here?”

“Duh,” spoke Wheeler. “It’s her brother. Big Little. The song reminded her of…”

“It’s Little Big,” said Hucka Doobie in yet another interruption. “Or Big comma Little; but we get the point.”

“See ya, guys. Sorry. Thanks for coming.” She walked across the tiger head one more time as Montana before it all went away.

(to be continued)

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November 7, 2020 · 10:49 am

wedding 03

Weddings at St. Mary’s traditionally took place after the Munday sermon so Preacher Stephan had to sacrifice a Renaldo O’Donnell clown first to appease the Gods. Tradition as well.

“Oops, that was a real squirter Pitch, ha.” The Darklys excused themselves to go home and wash clothes.

Afterwards church officials found the sacrificial altar was too heavy to move, so they made do with a cheap wedding booth found buried in a pile of junk at the back of the annex. Toothpick and Elberta then said their “I do’s” to Preacher Ziegler, since Preacher Stephan, a Northerner, refused to acknowledge the Deep South tradition of marrying siblings as kosher.

At the reception, Marty sang one of his beautiful love ditties to Saffie sitting with Toothpick, Elberta and best man Zapppa, hoping to get a better rental unit out of it.

Time to cut the cake. Big Wanda becomes annoyed about the orange butterflies that keep flying off her head in the excitement and leaves the task solely to Toothpick.

As feared, Her Majesty the local bigfoot/yeti came up from the new hole behind St. Mary’s to pay her respects to the newlyweds but was surprisingly controlled by the Corona-V pirates and ended up not eating anyone.

Lastly: group picture. Everyone had a laugh about all the innuendos.

And that’s it! Log another Collagesity or Sunklands photo-novel in the books.

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May 29, 2020 · 9:14 am

Corsican Collagesity 05

He was in the cemetery again, neither Phillip nor Lime but *both*. Or in-between. “A linden in England is called a lime,” he recalls from his days as a Gaeta bartender. He also remembers “Rookwood”.

He is buried here. He imagines being within the grave, staring up.

He resists the urge to smoke even though it no longer matters now.

He spirals inside the grave to a different place altogether. He has Vertigo but it doesn’t drive him crazy. Instead: sane.

He is in his own world now, at his own Hills dividing Maebaleia aka Satori into 2 parts, North and South. He *created* this. But then another comes in and tries to take it over. He remembers more from the bar: philosophical discussions about a cubic moon of Our Second Lyfe, and even a Moon of the Moon where avatars are shrunk down greatly from normal size to accommodate the small space. Space. Corners. Cube. Furthest corners of Space. The Moon is relatively close. Far out.

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April 3, 2020 · 8:51 am

Five

Wheeler decides to beat her to the punch. If there *is* evidence of a continuation in Jumboro and this attached Jumbo Core, she was going to find out herself. No filtering through bias. And, besides, Hucka Doobie has a kewl beauty of her own as a strong African-American woman struggling in a white male society. Yes, Wheeler admires her very much. She wishes she were equally spiritual, but there’s the Venus in her that is always niggling away at the good, the correct, the *Christian*. The Lord and The Lamb do not find favor in her sometimes — often. Oh, Axis is right, she thinks then and there, perched on the rooftop of a skybox she had no business prying into. But she was here now, bad instincts taking over again. Might as well take a peek inside.

The Jumbo Core, yes. Amazing. And Jumbo is perhaps the most famous elephant of all time, a Barnum and Bailey product, like oppositely sized Tom Thumb. Wheeler studies the alternately green and yellow colored squares of this “grassy base”, as the description puts it. Is this the original 9×9 square of sims? she ponders. It *must* be in some way. But what does it mean? Anything about the objects positioned upon it? But Wheeler can discover nothing of marked note.


nothing of marked note

She looks all around the rest of the skybox remotely before “accidentally” moving through the wall behind this grassy base into a back room that she hadn’t *checked* for some reason. A broad smile formed on her face. “Yellow-green and red-violet!” she cried aloud, seeing the 2 colors juxtaposed, floor to wall. The Thomas Main and Nick Barkley story can continue!

And her own, she realized.

END OF “COLLAGESITY 2020 EARLY”!

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January 31, 2020 · 7:25 am

end 05

They continued to talk while Herbert Gold, dead again, danced frantically at the bus station in the background, obviously in a dream trance. Tessa looked over, convinced that grandpa finally wasn’t going to come back this time. Platinum through and through he was now, with wife April Mae (not related to Tessa except through marriage) truly a widow. The vision made her point more important.

“We *must* set aside differences to explore what remains of Our Second Life, gentleman.” Tessa was wise now, thanks to what happened in Bellisaria, which we’ll get to in a minute. “North — South — it doesn’t matter. Whatever is left of the World of Lemon must be chronicled as best as possible while there’s still time to find traces of it here and there.” She indicated the surroundings with her hand. “Like right here in RustpORt in Heterocera’s Pond District. Why the OR emphasized in the name to highlight the sim here (Or)? Why the water levels at 65 instead of the regular 20 — an anomaly common in this area? Such broad mysteries, ready to be explored, must not remain unanswered or our overall mission has failed. Gentlemen, this is the test, the challenge. Lay down your arms. Stop bickering and look all around you — observe. The fight you have is small compared to what lies all around. There are still *traces*. Traces can be used to sketch out a broader picture. You *must*–”

“Yes, I know, I know. My military style knife must go,” butted in Jer Left Horn to her immediate left. “TronAxis’ *frisbee* must go. ”

“How *dare* you,” Axis to his left returned. But with a smile now. Indeed the child before them had warmed their hearts, opened their minds with her stories and information. The Bellisaria island she stayed on after leaving the cave system the key to seeing Our Second Lyfe as a globe, a sphere? Incredible! Pode and Anti-Pode: it was the only place — well, the south slice of the island that lay in the sim of Grote — to resonate with land on the opposite side of this world. New Amsterdam revealed, which then became New York but bombed back to New Amsterdam conditions in the year… well, better not reveal that yet. I’ll let Rebl do it later on, who is the same as Parasol. Shame she couldn’t join these avatars in Or for the end of the current Collagesity photo-novel.

Oh wait. There she is.

“1926,” she answered cryptically to the camera, still with one red and one blue eye. The underwater operation was a success. Or was it a complete failure?

END OF “COLLAGESITY 2019-2020 WINTER”!

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July 7, 2019 · 7:30 am

spine line

Huh. The rooster simply is not rezzing in for me. Just the hens (to my right). Better get over to the Horns of Hatton tonight. Or wherever.

Goodbye Cassandra City. Perhaps not for forever. We’ll see. There’s always “Moby Prick”…

—–

But Horns of Hatton, the actually capital city of the South during the Civil War and more in its center, was also laggy. I decided to reboot my computer and start fresh. I returned to my current home base: the big map of the continent — stood on the Primrose sim with primmy rose still in hand and looked west across YOUR SIMS 01 02 03 04 05 06 07. Mentioned by Sweet Alice last night.

The 4th: Sifton, where I met Your Mama on that hill also straddling Kensington (3rd). Got an earful, a tongue lashing. Remembered, through Cassandra City’s secret resident Tracy Austin, that I had my own, pierced tongue. Piercing… pierced. You are what you is.

First some terminology checks. The (Neutral Zone’s) Hills of Bill lie between what, on this big map, I call the Satori Flats to the south and then the similarly termed and constituted Satori Shallows to the north. I realize that this is probably a North-South naming conflict again, like for the continent itself. Southerners preferred Maebaleia, referring more to their famous whale, and then the Northerners favored Satori. Since the North defeated the South in the war (I think), Satori won out. But some stubborn Southerners still refer to it as Maebaleia, and proudly wave their chicken centered battle flags in their yards. Heck, some even drape it over their whole house. But I digress (again)…

—–

I tried to get this straight in my head. I stood on Turtle Hill, the actual one. East was YOUR SIMS (00) 01 02 03.

West: the rest. Turtle Hill, although the most famous (because of the supposed Lemon-Lime treaty signed there, etc.), was actually the shortest of 3 main Hills of Bill. The first actual hill one would encounter while walking west from Primrose, which we’ve accomplished symbolically. Oh there was that somewhat interesting mound just beyond Athlone (in Kensington) where I stood when snapping these 2 earlier shots, the latter while looking west toward where I’m presently positioned. And Athlone is where I entered Real Life Bluefield from this Our Second Lyfe. Think, Marcus. Think! Detective Biff Carter drew his north-south hands together to make a prayer. Church choir saved. Synchronicity! Also with Gunn City, more sadly. And then, and then…

“Hi.” It was Yoko, walking up from behind, surprising me. We exchanged pleasantries — talked about John a bit — then I decided to show her a trick, “Man, that chicken I ate for breakfast just isn’t agreeing with me, BLEH!” *splat*.

—-

I stood alone on the hill after that. Yoko had run away.

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