A strange occurrence is happening in Port Mansfield, blocking Batty Casey from joining us tonight at the Mansfield Mansion.
We’ll have to go back to Mars instead, disguised as Marz this time.
Someone lives inside the purple Marz house with the hand, probably Katy Kidd again.
Because this is another mother abode, pheh.
—–
“My two proteges together once more, 88 and, 88. Together we make a cross. Peter’s. We can control him again.” Then she cackles. Uncontrollably.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0407, Corsica, Southeast^
“*Another* one,” Hidi uttered while gazing forward at the sea monster in the distance, a double to the one in Storybrook Lake.
“This must be the correct photo to begin tonight’s session with.” She then decided on another form. Batty Casey?
Not quite yet. All grown up Katy Kidd, the Real McCoy now?
Soon. Then I remembered the arena, the battle. Grays vs. Browns. Slaughter but then Olive Branch extended. Fred and Ethel.
Looks like Batty Casey is the one.
But first a little fun.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0406, Corsica, Southeast^, Storybrook^
“I’m alive!” Ben Wolf looked around, deducing he must have hatched from that egg on the dresser in front of him.
“Jewels,” he spoke aloud again, observing the glinty objects also spilling out from the egg. Like stardust.
Better not alert Phyllis Klondike or Phyllis Phox or whatever her name was currently, he thought. Report instead directly to Host Charming, the host with the most. Back in the Old Country. Ahh, yes. Now I can return.
—–
“I’m all mixed up,” he says to Host Charming inside the Mixed Up Castle in Seacliff on the Old Continent. “I must get my bearings.”
“*You* must get your *Bena,*” the often wise prince responded to him, giving his employee a map in his head. But that is a story for another photo-novel. We return to Port Mansfield for a proper plot device in this one…
—–
“There you are,” spoke smoking hot Batty Casey from the bed. “Now shut the door and get in here and make sweet love to me.” But when Firefive compliantly crawled under the sheets there was no one left but Batty. “Hmm,” she wondered, bat swinging around in thin air before her. “Something must have happened.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0511, Corsica, Kerchal^, Sansara, Southeast^
After resolving the triangle they all flew over in the U.S.S. Cuthand to observe and inspect the Mansfield Mansion of Port Mansfield. “Elephants here too,” Pickard pointed out after landing.
“Rainbow… pot of gold. That be what you’re looking for maties.” He laughed, then, at his feigned accent. Shakespearean actors, seethed the Cpt., painting the kettle black. Speck remained neutral and calm and collected on the subject. “And where, dear Cpt. (he looks right toward Pickard instead of the Cpt. here), are the ants?”
Pickard put his hand to his ear, dramatically again. “Listen,” he hissed. “Listen to the drums.”
Speck and the Cpt. then heard them, fading in louder and louder. Deafening if close. The music from Thumper’s Bar, high high above them. High as a kite.
Now at the top, they both stare at the spectacle, wondering how he did this. Occultism!
“Listen!!” he roared over the blasts, hand still to ear.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0510, Corsica, Southeast^
She often walked to soothe her shattered nerves. Early on, she found this apartment building in Blessham just west of Port Mansfield. But why the name Port Mansfield for a sim not called that (but close)? It was a mystery for another day. Back to the building: it rang a bell, struck a note. She remembered something about — thumping. She was a Thumper! she recalled. Beating out sweet beats with her beater. Five was there too. Or Fire. And she was *on* fire! Hmmm. She sometimes wondered, not as often as she walked but occasionally still, whether, well, better not ruminate on that for now. That was the Big Reveal after all! 1/2 the time she knew she was destined to be a widow. Then the other half…
Better check out this apartment building in more detail. Put all those crazy, batty thoughts behind her for now.
—–
She could live here after it was all over, she contemplated while sprawled out on a white couch within after finding a black one unsatisfactory.
But then she found the red all over part of it at the top and began to remember *everything*. I am Five, she realized once more. I am Five!
She soon would walk back home to the Mansfield Mansion in Port Mansfield and conveniently forget it all over again.
Five Fire came through the door, Jack Snow barking per usual. “Lucifer?! I’m hoome!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0508, Corsica, Southeast^
Firefive could barely not see the little central Danshire island that started it all. He decides to eliminate volume to check.
“Aah. *There* you are you little bastard. No Small Kowloon Shack perched on your noggin neither here nor there. Good!” Firefive, commonly referred to as either Fire or Five amongst friends — 1/2 and 1/2 — then turned the other way atop the Debelox water tower in the middle of Mouth of Ralph to gaze south instead. Could he see *it* as well. The Mansfield Mansion in Port Mansfield?
“Aah. *There* you are you little bastard,” he repeated when zooming in and volume returned. *My* bastard. Getting dark — better head back home for now.
“Lucifer!? I’m hoome!”
Jack Snow the French bulldog barked at him after he opened the door. Jack Snow never remembered who he was, although he’d lived here for years. Batty Casey waited in the living room, ready this night to make the Big Reveal to her sometimes lover, sometimes enemy, 1/2 and 1/2 again. She was hoping this would tip the scales one way or another. “Friend or foe?” she wanted to call back but bit her firey tongue with joint firmly in cheek. She moved it with her tongue more toward the middle again and took another deep draw. She then decided this wouldn’t be the night. They would watch reruns of “I Love Lucifer” on the tellie instead. Fred Merth — so funny.
Fire or Five would become a widower soon enough at the end of 5. The first male widow of the bunch, growing weekly almost. 6 may bring a return to normalcy. But: doubtful.
“Come on in, dearest. Our show’s about to start.”
—–
She perches behind, oh so tempted to clobber him right here and now with her deadly bat just to get it over with. Then the heart accompanied by big band music appears, tipping her in the right wrong direction again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0507, Corsica, Southeast^
He didn’t know where he was. The approaching, grey ghost didn’t help. “You killed me Arthur Kill,” she moaned. Oh — *her*, he thought while watching the spectre waver back and forth, then retreat again. The *freshest* one. This sometimes happens. He must be dreaming…
Earlier:
Big Black Smoke couldn’t resist. The door was open with no one home currently — he’d checked all the windows. The bed beckoned; he’d deal with the consequences later. That’s how the man known *locally* as Big Black Smoke met his end at the terminus of a Dead End Street in Urqhart. Or right next to it.
—–
Hmmm, pondered Arthur Kill, readying for another. A black man like me. Oh well. Duty calls. He enters.
—–
Later, while staring at the rotating tire outside that Arthur Kill buried Big Black Smoke under, a tiny rap at the door. It was Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child, longing for another bed down with new love lust and wannabe novelist Barry X. Vampire, who would escape all this mess and slaughter as fate deemed it. Onward and upward into new peaks to the south west, he wisely decided earlier that day.
—–
*POP* (another one)
—–
Dawn was breaking in Arthur Kill’s dream, driving the ghosts away. But he was in the middle of novel 19, with no story there yet possible. Since this is sort of toward the middle of 18. Or a little beyond. Urqhart.
—–
“That was a short one, Hucka Doobie,” spoke Baker Bloch while staring down at the freshly inserted pin on the Big Map.
“Not over yet,” advised the wise bee-ing just out of sight to the west and/or south.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0407, Corsica, Southeast^, Urqhart^
“You know she left town more because of me,” spoke Linda Halsey earnestly to new beau David Newton Jaspers. They were standing on the East Bridge of Adgatetown, the only place they’d ever known or ever would know. Narrow perspective. “I hate to put you down, put you in your place.”
“Wanna listen to some more Chalcedony tonight? I downloaded it from a pirate site. It’s before Dyslexia Cornfield the drummer left. Good stuff.” He pauses, considering. “What were you saying?”
“Never mind.” She takes his arm and dreams about blue tomorrows.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0517, Corsica, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island^, Southeast^
Funny how I’ve been banned for 30 minutes from that central property, just for sitting at that table and attempting to grab an orange. Better send replacement Snoupy in for a shot instead. Must – get – oranges!
He checks his watch. *Or*, I could just wait the now 19 minutes remaining and explore some of the rest of this Adgatetown. David Jaspers, Linda Halsey — wonder if they’re still here. And of course Lisa V., the real reason for the visit. Bartholomew. I know where he is. I know where all the Smipsons are: Homer, Marg, Grandpaw, Magee, even the aunts Selma and Louise. I know who shot Mr. J. R. Burns. And I know why Lisa can’t find any of them. She has evolved.
Two kids playing on a jungle gym linked together with red, blue, yellow pentagons. Wait: there’s green there too. Sometimes that is forgotten in the mix of primary colors.
Maybe like Lisa and Bartholomew when they were children. Innocent days of youth. Before the Big Change. One made it through the waterfall, the other didn’t. Lisa casts a shadow and evil is born. Projected onto the boy.
They are acting out a play: The boy dreams of life on an elephant, but can’t make it there himself. For the girl: smooth sailing.
What game are they playing now? The one where blue wins and red loses? That happens all the time.
What about yellow on the edge? Oh, there’s the father or guardian showing up. Perhaps come to gather them up and take them home to a nice, delicious warm meal prepared by the significant other while he was out hard at work selling encyclopedias or something. Nice suit.
But when Marion Harding also stopped at the edge of the circle, only one child was still within. The dancing one. The one who cast the shadow.
Oops. Past time to take a pic with those oranges!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0516, Corsica, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island^, Southeast^
A mysterious object appears along The Diagonal at 193/195 Miata. Oscar the cat is *very* curious about what’s inside.
Once again, Golden Jim knows more than he’s letting on.
“Curse you Red Baron!”
—–
“Gonna be a cold one tonight, Bendy. But you make a great stove — quite toasty.”
“Thank you. I try.”
Fisher thinks this could be one of those nights he also employs Bendy for that other thing they don’t talk about much. Sure wish Lisa V. was here, he laments. I wonder how she is — way over there on the Corsica continent in her big ol’ houseboat. *Alone* hopefully.
—-
Lisa the Vegetarian Smipson just found out about David Jaspers and her best friend Linda Halsey. That’s *it*, she steams. I’m leaving this stupid cartoon town and *never* coming back!
—–
Madame Silver’s yellow figure is stuck no more, thanks to the fix by recently promoted Doll Pedlar Inc. employee Herbert Dune.
“Ah hahahahah! Got you!”
However, he appears to be in the doghouse with her tonight…
… but it’s actually just another, larger dollhouse they’re testing out.
She’s done with him for now. He knows this ensures another sale, though. Rich rich rich, up up up!
—–
A mysterious stranger appears in Adgatetown knowing the whereabouts of Lisa’s missing brother Bartholomew.
Sunklands 