Frank waited and waited. He heard sounds within. Someone was there (!). Being recreated as it turned out. Overt religious messages were fading from the truck as well as the mtn. behind. Everything was becoming alien oriented, JESUS, for example, being reconstructed as 6EQUJ5, “Love is Universal” turning into “Life is Universal”. Would he approve?
Again: no.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0613, collages 2d, Greenup, GTA
“Okay, there’s the sign with a red arrow pointing upwards again. Thanks Leptune, you sly green and yellow corn dawg! Weren’t clowning around with the sign shadow after all. But of course I can’t travel up from here — into the sky (or *can* he?). So I guess I’ll have to follow this other arrow pointing left.”
Then travelling down the indicated dirt road leading to a small trailer park, he remembered he’d been here before. A very very important side mission in the game called Grand Theft Auto, version 5. One that requires us to help build a spaceship… or so the description goes. TBC?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0612, GTA, Omega
“Okay, turn around! And tell me why you’re here. Under that red arrow pointing downward. Straight down to this room, to *you*!”
“Don’t shoot me!” he pleaded pathetically. “Don’t shoot me and I’ll tell you everything. Why I’m here. Why *you’re* here.”
“I wasn’t going to shoot you, dawg,” says Frank Lynn back to the green clad man. A clown? he guessed from his position.
“Oh. You must not be *him*, then.”
“Him *who*?”
—–
“I would have *definitely* shot this clown in the back, not even telling him to turn around,” declares Philip Strevor in a parallel universe. “My loss,” he says in retrospect, from his position in the Realm of Death. All Knowing now; a little too late.
Because this Leptune colored like an ear of corn and then some truly had answers. He could get Frank Lynn unstuck, unglued. And Philip too. If he had the sense to do so.
Back to the current universe…
—–
“You just follow the shadow of the arrow now to find another (red) arrow, pointing upward,” he said behind him, just out of camera shot. “Then you’ll see where to go.”
“Thanks dawg!” TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0605, GTA
He stood before the passageway again, knowing a decision had to be made. As before, they had extra arms, as in fire. Faux bug exterminators Jason and Walter were awaiting orders. In or out in or out? Didn’t matter to them; all this was beyond their meager, silly brains, Lester thought. They couldn’t tell the fool’s gold, the physical stuff, from the real gold — this opening inside the Sphere he’s managed to finally crash beside. As bad as Philip with his 60th of 60 in the 6th or 90th of 90 in the 9th. Last in class whatever. 6 is just as bad as 9, merely a flip or reverse of the same. Then it hit Lester. The same, the *same*. The future and past are one! He didn’t have to make a decision. He could merely stand in place and let the so-called Hand of God do it for him. He opened himself up… to the Universe.
“Holland??”
“After delivering part 50 of 50 of the spaceship to him, he gave me this. Space Docker he called it. From the *future*. And then his last words to me were, ‘See you on the other side, brother.’
“Other side of *what*? I wondered as I watched Omega round the corner and seemingly disappear forever from my life.
“Then Lester brought up finding the other side — to Earth.”
“Earth?”
“Earth,” he said again. “He said, what was it, the technology allowed copying but only so far. For one thing, there were no people, just animals. Philip had crashed his plane and died. Yet he lived on.” Frank looked at me steady. I knew this was something extremely important to him because he usually avoids direct eye contact. He was trying to drill the truth into me. Or maybe discover it *through* me.
Drilling. Have to think about that one.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0515, GTA, MFS
“Son of Man,” he uttered disgustingly while approaching the man on the cliff. “*Sun* of Man. How could I fall for such a load of… well, *bunk*!” It was the strongest word he still dare hurl against his once beloved belief, his beloved former lord and savior and spokespersons thereof. No C word yet, no S word.
Then staring at the surrounding landscape far below he got an idea. He had to get rid of the new to return the old. Just like a certain island we’ll get back to soon. Switching to a dream more in the daylight, he positioned himself directly behind the *cult* leader while drawing his gun. Yeah, CULT. “Turn around,” he said. “*Me.*”
*POP*. Someone else had to fall for the same thing.
Dusk again, Jack merely spat a goodbye to his former guru and returned to the city, his job here done, he felt. But daydreams would linger… TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0413, GTA, New Island
Core-Alena and backwards in time Daniel Day sat for a while without talking, then:
“You must be the tree that was killed,” he said over the top of his book that was also the script. “I can, um (still reading), tell by your glossy green color.”
But recently reborn Core-Alena hadn’t finished experimenting with new forms and remained silent. Daniel turns the page.
—–
Later in the house:
“Interesting.
“There’s that game again.”
Eavesdropping Daniel outside the window moves away from the house and rings up Newt/Baker. “We have a place.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0412, GTA
—–
“So we *finally* found it, Brother Gabby,” he said, looking up at the numbers on the side of Frank’s castle. “The answer to everything!” Then fellow bike rider and pilgrim Gabby proceeded to gab on for about 50 minutes about how Brother Amos was so right in this initial observation.
Non-illuminated zero? Add that in too.
Now to the top…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0407, Frank's Moving Castle, GTA, GTA old, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
Suddenly the required cane for the mission I held in my hand begins to shake. For 7-10 minutes this went on. Then it calmed down, calm calmm, and began to speak instead. With the first words out of its little wavery mouth now located at the end of its crook, the cane directed me back to the windows on the opposite side, where it was still dark instead of dawn and the blue was more illuminating, highlighting the blue in my just purchased outfit better, as I’m looking at it again, along with the red hair also acquired recently, this blue and red likewise mission requirements.
I break the windows, or I should say, the windows broke me — I mean, *it* broke them for me, or attempted to. The cane I mean. Literally I had no control over it by then. But the panes resisted, the blue light persisted. I guess the windows broke the cane as well (figuratively) because after about 7-10 minutes more of this he gave up. Rudy was his name and caning was his game, he said. “This should work!!” he uttered with his tiny tongue wagging out now. “What’s so tough about this weird ass glass??!” TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0406, Critterville, GTA, GTA old
—–
“Come on in, gentlemen,” leads t-shirt wearing Karl. “Everyone grab them a seat. Big Smoke, you sit opposite me if you don’t mind. We’re the ones to start.”
“Oh I *do* mind.”
“Well, never mind that ghetto front now, ha ha.”
“Ho ho,” responds Big Smoke, a smile breaking on his face as well. He pats Karl on the back before sitting opposite him as instructed.
—–
“Big Smoke,” Karl begins the serious part of the Grove Street gang reunion, “I turned you into Big Black Smoke in the blog and attached photo-novels to match The Kinks song of that title. So because of the flip side of that one being called ‘Dead End Street’ on the single, the A side to match ‘Big Black Smoke’s’ B, I made you sleep at the end of a dead end street here in Our Second Lyfe and then had you killed by a man named Arthur Kill because you were a rat. I didn’t know anything about you also living at the end of a dead end street in San Andreas at the time, nor that you were also a rat, a traitor, in that game. So we start with that. I had *unconscious* knowledge of our previous lives but not direct knowledge. That’s the beginning for us, the seed.”
“Big Black Smoke (name) would have fit me better in San Andreas,” Big Smoke replies. “But Rockstar probably didn’t want to go there. And *where’s* my mofo ghetto accent, he he he? Laughs all around now. Everyone had ditched that angle to more directly speak to the reader, you out there, beyond the 4th wall, listening in. I could have slapped a ghetto accent on them but that seemed to be forcing it.
“What about *Marty*?” Lance spoke to his left, having the same blog and attached photo-novel knowledge that Karl and the rest did. 4 equidistant chairs in a well chosen place in Our Second Lyfe will do that to you. You could call it a TILE but that maybe wouldn’t be going far enough since the chairs are all white this go around. A *unity*, a 4n1. Comes in handy sometime, especially when you want to pull out on a painful subject for needed distance. Like here. San Andreas… Grove Street.
“Marty killed Arthur Kill the killer he hired to kill you,” answered Karl. “But that was later. After the lego people arrived.”
“Hmm,” Lance said, reviewing all this in his head as well.
“So in (this) game — Lance — you’re Big Black Smoke’s grieving brother. But you conveniently forget that fact when you arrive at the airport in Nautilus a couple of photo-novels later to pick him up. But perhaps this is before the killing and actually makes time-sense here. You call him Smokie in those couple of related posts but we know this is Big Black.”
Big Smoke (indicating his body): “Black goes with green like n-ahs and Grove Street, hu hu.” Snickers all around if not laughs. Everyone was a little uncomfortable with the use of the n word now. Unlike before. Different times, different situation. Maybe the chairs again.
“Sweet.” Karl turns right now. “You’re *not* my brother Sweet in this scenario but someone named Sean ‘Green’ Penn. We’ve actually never even interacted in this blog (and attached photo-novels) up till this point. *Proving* my point. Instead you’re mainly involved in the Storybrook, er, story. Photo-novel 19. You’re best friends with a girl named Pink who’s only called that by those closest to her. Others *knew* her as Marsha.”
“Because she’s dead,” Sweet explained the “knew” part of Karl’s description, to the reader again if not the ones seated around the fire here. “But… she came back to life in photo-novel 40. And — me too later on, come to think of it. How?” Death by rats as well, Sweet remembered oh so painfully as Sean. Draw back, draw back!
Sunklands 