—–
“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 also 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!
“Karl”
“Karl!”
“KARL!!!”
He finally turns away from the corn. “Yess?”
“Time to go home.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0313, GTA, GTA old, Iowa, Jeogeot, Rodentia 02
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacob_D._Robida
In the afternoon of February 4, 2006, Robida’s vehicle was seen about 1,500 miles (2,400 km) away in Arkansas, where Jim Sell, a Gassville police officer, initiated a traffic stop at the Brass Door Restaurant parking lot. After talking with Sell for about half a minute, Robida opened fire with a 9mm handgun, killing the officer. He turned onto Arkansas Highway 201 headed south and continued to Arkana, Arkansas, where he fired at Arkansas State Police Sgt. Van Nowlin. Police pursued him and laid spike strips; although these flattened his front tires, they failed to stop the car. Robida fled for about 18 miles down Arkansas Highway 5, where he turned south and drove into the small town of Norfork. In the middle of town he lost control of the car due to the front tires, spun out, and hit two parked vehicles.
“See, this is the problem, Daniel. As I’ve shown, Arkana is only 3 miles west of Norfolk. So how could this Robida creep flee *down* Highway 5 for 18 miles, then turn *south* — not north even — and drive into Norfolk. Something is off in this description. And I think I know what. The (Arkana-Arkawana) circle. Arkawana is 18 miles from that turn off, not Arkana. I checked.
“The circle… is… warps?” Could be, Daniel realizes, given all the other weirdness in this small area of the great state of Arkansas. Truth.
“We need to go in that oh so central library, see what they got. I know it’s *our* library in a way, more mine than yours in the end but you get where I’m coming from.”
“I do,” admitted Daniel. He’s all on board with this. Art only goes so far without writing never mind music. Art and words together, like in a photo-novel, yes. He’s getting the hand of this.
“And just from this wikipedia page, there’s more…
On February 7, 2006, Jack Thompson, a disbarred attorney, commented on the incident, describing… the killing of Sell as a “suicide by cop homicide” inspired by Grand Theft Auto.[11] Police later dismissed the “suicide by cop” theory when it was discovered that Robida had fatally shot himself.[12]
Thompson claimed to have spoken to a New Bedford detective,[13] who “repeatedly” said Robida’s friends had said “he played the Grand Theft Auto games”. No further details have emerged, but the following day the Bristol County District Attorney rejected the video game link after examining all the evidence collected from Robida’s apartment and car.
“Who just showed up in Iowa in this here current photo-novel? (K)arl from Grand Theft Auto, and the main version that would have been current at the time (GTA:San Andreas). We need to get back to him, see how he’s doing. We got sidetracked in Beaconsfield. Now that you’re okay and back on the correct timeline, we have to follow more his story.” TBC
—–
Might as well give this so-called Abyss a try since I’ve managed to come across a key, lucky me. Not expecting much honestly, given what the game has had to offer so far. Entering…
Hypercube, huh. *Kind of* interesting. Resonant with some of my own stuff anyway. Desert of a story no more as promised by The Others? We’ll see. Passing through…
Iowa, *dangit*! Should’ve guessed. Different type of sand. One made of corn. Aw shucks, I suppose. And I lost my armor and weapons in the transition *sigh*. Must be a security thing. Have to fight off the locals by hand. Maybe procure some more weapons in a pillaged house or something. Here we go!… TBC?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0301, Crimson Desert, GTA, GTA old, Iowa
“What you looking at now, Dr. Mouse? More Youtube poop?” Frank Lynn was truly curious again. What was his dead roommate up to?
“Not *technically*. It’s a video about Grand Theft Auto, you know, the place where *you’re* from, both you and Philip.”
“*Oh.*” Now Frank was *really* curious. “And, let’s see (he peers closer at the screen), there’s a giant eyeball, I see. And… a star?”
“Rockstar,” Mouse answers. “Like the company that created GTA but also your friend. They connect through the lines.”
“Red, green, blue, yellow, yeah,” Frank Lynn recites. “I remember. His creation is like my creation, me being baker b. the user.” Frank knew he had the power to channel all that. Thus the high castle in the skies, the resonance with Heaven here with a capital H. Little *h*ell is far away now for him. But Philip… different story. “What does it mean?” Frank asks. “The picture here, the Rockstar and the eyeball with the lightning bolts. Jupiter?”
“Could be could be. I have to go to the table now. I have to make notes. Please don’t unfreeze the image on the screen here while I work over there.” He points backwards with his cane from his viewing chair, toward the kitchen we saw him sitting at with Frank and Philip a couple of sections ago. I don’t believe he’s shown up in this here blog and attached photo-novel since. Time to bring him back I guess. Oh wait… what’s happening? He’s now on the floor . He’s shaking… violently! Frank… do something! Move the table and its contents to start! TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0502, Frank's Moving Castle, GTA, GTA old, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
Rockstahr, Philip thinks while staring at the red green blue yellow lines again. Gotta find the origin. Who is this madman behind it all? Across the water?
“Whaddaya think, Frank?” he said after the story was over, still staring across the Nawt Vaya waters that had replaced the Alamo Sea waters in their now smaller, less broad virtual existences. “Little Heaven? Little Hell?”
“Might be,” he said, reminiscing in his own way about Redd. And that darn cat of a man she spoke about. She/he knew so much!
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0415, GTA, GTA old, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
He spied the 4 colored lines running parallel to each other and knew he was in the right place.
Now to figure out which color was *correct* for the next selection. Train lines, Philip Strevor originally thought…
… until passing yet another poster advertising The Bleeder and realized it was not green, not blue, not even yellow he needed, but red, as in dripping oozing cow blood red. Not a train line but good enough, yum.
He exits the train station and resets his course to the nearest Burger Shot for a quickie meal. Maybe even hold up the place so he won’t have to buy it, ha.
“What’s *he* doing here??” utters Grant Price the janitor as he watches him exit his taxi and walk toward the door he’s cleaning.
Collision, I’m assuming. Of realities. Might be human blood here soon to go along with the cow.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0305, GTA, GTA old
Hmm. What is actually being protested here? Back to Big Ear, where the same has arrived…
… with a lab coat gifted by a giant, green eyed turtle, complaints successful. Mission accomplished; well done. No sexualizing the cat-like aliens.
No one here yet. We just wait. Patience. She definitely has a bone to pick with these two lowlifes. Good to calm herself first with some vapors I suppose.
Sunklands 