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enough

He continued his information. “Before is the establishment of Fairview Alpha. Sometimes it is called the Big Mess. Too messy. Water everywhere. So many trees and plants and bushes. Clutter, if you will. After is Fairview and Alpha separate, as they should be. One in one place and the other in another. This is also known as the Plane of Martin and the Plain o’ Allen. Fairview is a fair view of the world, as it is, plain and uncluttered. The great bird flies in the sky but always lands here. Here is here. There is no Other, except for the Abyss.”

—–

“Before you start,” he boomed, “take off that silly shirt. The queen does not play croquet. She doesn’t have time for that nonsense.”

“I know, I know,” begged off Guy Benjamin, now part of the rebellion. He shed his first shirt, revealing Zero.

“Do you even know who I am?” he projected forth in a kingly manner.

“You are… leader of the rebellion, sire,” said Guy, slightly taken aback. “Your name is Legend.”

“My name is *Dan*,” retorted the face in front of him, a duplicate of the one on his Zero shirt except for the bespectacled cartoon face and long, Pinocchio-like nose. Guy considered the nose for perhaps the first time: the mark of a liar, a deceiver.

“Just kidding. It’s Atom. Ayom. Something. Let’s go with Atom. Do you like Atom?”

“I… haven’t thought of it before… your name I mean.”

“Atom, yes,” the face finalizes, crystalizes. “I am the *beginning* (long, kingly pause). And the end (quick, succinct).”

“Some people, sire,” Guy ventured and admitted, hoping it wasn’t going too far, “say you are The Lamb.”

“Bu HUH HUH HUH. *LAMB*?… (another kingly pause). Well okay that’s fair (quick again; a let-off; release).”

Guy stood awkwardly before the face that demanded to be called Atom but may also be Lamb, shifting his feet around, trying to think of something else to say and not look as much of a fool this time about it. The face let him off the hook finally, tired of the squirm. “Halfway through my rule I have reached the end but not the beginning. I am the great 4-n-1, and that is *numbers* (pause) but also the word FOREIGN. FOREIGN ONE.”

“You are an alien,” replied Guy. “I have heard the rumors from the rebellious others.”

“*Other* Other.” Let’s stop there.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0403, Misty Mo+, Yaya Land+

Alien, Yellow

I still have much to learn here.

—–

This gigantic amount of creative energy…

… makes me want to return to the religious nuts of Misty MO (for some reason)…

… and stare into a mirror.

I wonder what Dollie is up to, for instance? Still about 2 feet would be my guess.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0402, Misty Mo+, Yaya Land+

red green blue yelloo!

The artist explains to a prospective buyer that an arm *is* a leg, cutting the price in half. Saale!

“If you dream correctly,” he explained afterwards, “you have purchased a whole museum inside the picture containing many more objects you now own. You’re welcome!”

She took the painting home using both her arms and legs to haul the massive object around. By doing so she has become a creature as well as creator. The door to her house becomes that of the museum. She steps inside the other world, waking up.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0401, Europe, France, Yaya Land+

00280317

He didn’t get much information from that pothead Pine Ridge but he understood Lamb had flown the coup. Peter Paul and Mary I mean here, featured in photo-novel 05 and a bit of photo-novel 06 if memory serves. Mr. Babyface came here to try to persuade his nephew Paul (and the rest) to return to the Land of the Living, as he called it, get away from this Hana Lei and its huffing and puffing and boys bringing more rolled up paper all the time, just like clockwork. You pay them, they come and never stop, the jerks. “Vicious cycle,” he said. “You’ll end up like Syd,” he furthered, pointing out the famous downfall of one of Paul’s rock heroes. “Dead… or worse. Dead in your head, which goes beyond physical death because the mind goes beyond the body. You better think about that the next time you take a shower with that cat soap you like.” He decides to leave it at that. Paul stares at him, much like Roger stared at Jacob later on, all glazy eyed, like a glossy pot ready to go to market, ready to have another plant inside it. He didn’t need to ask the Time because he knew what it was, shortly followed by Money, shortly followed by death. And worse. Brain Damage.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0317, HANA LEI

HappyMood

“Yeah, they’re all gone,” explained Roger Pine Ridge a little later in the heart of Hana Lei. “50 years ago I guess by now — just missed them.” He kept toking, staring, his cracked alien skin no better for the smoke. But being alien and all it may not matter that much… lungs might be configured differently for example. Smoking may not hurt him like us humans. He continues. “Lamb, yeah. I know what’s in your head. You want to clarify what I’m talking about.” He coughs, he stares at the doobie almost shrunk to nothing, then tosses it away and shakes his hand vigorously like it’s on fire and he’s trying to put it out. “Where’s some pliers when you need them, heh.”

Jacob I. was currently taking a break from pot, trying to crack this whole Lamb conundrum with a clear head. So no cracks about Bogarting that whole joint thing to Roger, because Jacob I. asked him to. “No thanks,” he said at the time, then took a glance at all the pots and pseudo-pots strewn about the place and wondered how he ever survived with it. Lamb could save him. Dollie.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0316, HANA LEI

*original* Hana Lei

All of a sudden, just like that, he was back to where it all started. The I. that could not get high, this Melancholy place in BEHappy. All aspects of BEH he was examining tonight, remembering his old friend Cyberpaperdoll, for instance, in another Beh sim place over on the Heterocera continent. And he was of course thinking of sheep, which go behhhhhh. Like Dolly the cloned one. Dolly had been *here*…

… but her name seems to have been spelled “ie” instead of “y”.

Wormhole still…

… leading to the Square of Jupiter, famous in Durer’s “Melancholia I”.

Randolph the Bastard Pirate.

Better go check out the locals while I’m here, Jacob I. decided.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0315, HANA LEI

from Genesis to Lamb

—–

Now that I’m awake again I’m going to figure out who you guys are, he thought. Sorry: *gals*.

Gals?

—–

Other Other! (4:00)

Worlds come together. (3:45)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0314, Kowloon+, Yaya Land+

the future is now

He sat underwater with Leaday afterwards and wondered what just happened? “Was any of it real?” he called over from his stool next to one of the circling opabinia, another impossibility since this queer 5 eyed, backwards headed fish has been extinct for millions of years. He remembers visiting the doctor. That’s it. But what happened inside was a blank.

—–

He took his first shirt off, finally remembering there was actually a shirt beneath that. Shirt Zero if you will. He was home.

And all was not well.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0313, Kowloon+, Yaya Land+

red all over

The door to the bar was a decoy — sent visitors upstairs to another bar devoid of animations and life in general. Except for constantly humming Hurley. Let’s shorten it to Hummy. The bird.

“Where IS HE????” demanded the Heart Queen after teleporting up. The future was still the present, which means Guy was still successfully hiding in the past immediately below, purchased identity holding. Too bad she’d never learned to play croquet or things could have worked out differently for her. It could have relaxed her, taken her down a different path. And indeed, that’s the queen Fish Head and Guy knew (in the past). A kinder gentler one, a sympathetic sort.

“Have a Bloody Mary, Queen,” trilled the humming bird. “Let’s talk.”

The queen was surprised she could sit down despite the lack of animations. It didn’t bother Hummy, since he was a flier not a sitter. He expertly blended a tomato with celery and spice. He mixed in the liquor. It was ready.

One sip and she started to remember, heart of ice melting. She recalls Broken Heart. The spell was over.

She began to dance again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0312, Kowloon+

Bar None

He ran.

—–

“It’s good you changed shirts and came here, Guy. She won’t look here: too far in the past.”

He wanted to say that he didn’t change his shirt he merely added another one on top of the first but just thanked his lucky stars it worked anyway. Now he could talk openly about the Heart Queen with his old friend Fish Head, the one who he could depend on to give him directions when he got lost. Which was a *lot* here.

“Who is she?” he asked, heart still thumping from all the excitement.

“Goes by Helen.”

Helen, Guy pondered. Like Troy. Destroyer of Men.

“What happened to Feng Sui and Qi?”

“Gave up the store. Left town.” Guy knew Fish Head was talking about Store Zero, where it all started and revolved around and shite. Murderous past. Which was, again, present. But he had no real choice. He had to escape (!). Gunshots outside. He’ll have to get use to it, he figured.

“And the uncles?” Two more shots, then a scream. Then quiet (for a while).

“One remains.” But Fish Head didn’t reveal which one. Could be Jack. Could be John. He didn’t have the guts to open that door and find out — the body could be slumping right against it; spill into the establishment and cause a bloody mess he’d have to clean up. And he’d lost his mop, dangnit. Probably stolen (again!) by the Mopheads down in Ragtown, the bloody gang. Maybe them outside right now, causing all this commotion. The Heart Queen had hidden him but for how long? It was up to her to open the door — not him.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0311, Kowloon+