Category Archives: Estate

pause 06

“I see we’re wearing matching trackers.”

Duncan looked down. “The Pot-D pendant?” Yes, it was red and hanging around his neck as well. He hadn’t thought about it before.

“Except mine’s from Pan-Z, the other, newer organization that does those kind of things. More thoroughly, if you ask me. Much more.” Jeffrie Phillips was wondering how the *heck* Duncan was going beyond the mirror book via improvisation. He stared through him to the 3 trackers he knew dwelt within, one by one by one.

Then: “I of course know you’re in there… *girls*.” But Phillips knew not who he was dealing with (Ragdoll titters here). These were battle tested *women*, fighting for the core of Pot-D which they understood to be ultimate truth.

“We know about the treasure,” they admitted (Indigo). “We know about Big Baby Jane” (Ruby). “We know about *Audrey*” (Ragdoll). “Audrey,” she repeated through Duncan’s lips. He gestured toward the black and white, zig-zag patterned chairs they sat in. He pointed out the “teapot” between them. He indicated an owl decorating a fluttering national flag he rezzed out of his inventory, bought at the Snowlands infohub just before teleporting over here.

“‘The owls are not what they seem,’ I know.” Jeffrie paused. “So you’re just *handwriting* this in. To make, I don’t know, a more satisfying ending?”

“Yes,” they admitted as a collective.

“Is it working?”

—–

“*Is* it working, Ruby?” asked Indigo to her left, sensing the fatigue. “We can’t go on much longer. The 12th (novel) awaits!”

“We *have* to continue onward,” implores young Ragdoll to Ruby’s right. “Duncan knows who Jeffrie Phillips is, and that the treasure guarded day and night by Big Baby Jane is a, um, red herring, a duplicate of the one near the Snowy Peak. Another decoy.”

“Can we compare the 2 treasures again, just to make sure?” Ruby knew they could. “Hold on,” she says. “We’re almost done!”

Yes. The same. “Well, that does it, I think,” Ruby then says, finally lifting pencil from paper. She shuts the book. “The treasure cannot be found here.” She puts it back on the shelf at the end of graphic novels journals 1 through 10.

But they weren’t quite yet finished.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0618, Rubi, Teepot+

pause 05

They all took turns looking through Duncan’s eyes. Disappointment! At least for Ragdoll. Indigo remained intrigued about the whole situation. Hand weary Ruby just wanted to wrap it all up somehow. A good night’s rest she’ll get tonight!

The peculiarly remote infohub was quite devoid of objects and activity. No coffee shop. No restaurant. Just 3 austere, alpine style houses. And the combination of their user’s Second Lyfe Moon and its own Moon (“Moon of the Moon”) from Collagesity novel 1 that Ragdoll especially anticipated? Turns out to be “merely” 6 conjoined sims located out in the Great Linden Ocean a bit west of the old mainland continents Sansara, Heterocera, and Jeogeot.

Indigo finally found a landmark in the information poor location. They teleported over to one of the two official villages of the 6 sims. Not Teepot, but the other one. Twin cities they were. This was their first hint, beginning with Indigo, that they were looking at some kind of resonance with St. Croix, Virgin Islands. Duncan was now there, after all.

Jeffrie Phillips was waiting for them at the infohub on the other side. All 3 took turns being escorted by him up a quite lovely mountainside to Teepot proper and his sake bar hangout we’ve already seen him at with sometimes mate Audrey. In truth, Jeffrie was trying to sell Duncan the idea of staying. But on the walk, Duncan knew his world was already breaking down here. He must get back to Linden land, the ones looking out of his eyes realized. And soon!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0618, Purden/Snowlands, Rubi, Teepot+

pause 04

Duncan spoke to the just arrived Dr. Nightwing. “The train derezzed before I could teleport you over. Sorry about that. But never mind. We’re here.”

“The beginning of the end,” the Dr. offered. “The trail to the treasure.”

“Well… *they* might think so.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“You’ll see.”

—–

The two began hiking through one of the most desolate, wastelandy places left in Our Second Lyfe. But the dotting system trees still comforted Duncan. He was Lindener above all now, since they saved him. *He* saved him. And this was about as Linden as you can get. Until you reach the end.

—–

“They’re heading toward the Moon of the Moon,” Ragdoll squealed in excitement. “The big loop! Beginning meets end.”

“Well, not quite,” said Ruby, pencil still twirling away beneath her hand.

“Let’s pause here,” Indigo declared, stretching her arms and yawning. “Getting late.”

“No,” countered her ragdoll sister across the table. “We’re almost there! Let’s press on. Get these two to the — what do you call it? Infohub?”

Ruby stopped the writing. “We better fire up the interwebs and check. Check out the whole Confederation of Democratic Simulators site before proceeding forward.”

“Second Lyfe Moon,” cooed Ragdoll. “And its own Moon not far behind. Equilateral gravity on all 6 sides. Just like Phillip prophesized about.”

—–

“The trees change here at this sim crossing, Dr. Nightwing. Snowier and shorter.”

“I still don’t see it.” He was a little out of breath by now. Duncan surged ahead, seeming to draw energy from the landscape.

“Not long now.”

—–

“*There* it finally is. Beginning to worry the thing we saw back there near the road was a mirage. Dr.?” He turned. “Dr.??”

The alien man had collapsed in the snow, as if the very landscape around them *drained* him. Duncan walked back to the Dr. “I still can’t see it, Duncan. I’m not sure I ever will. I’m changing over here. It’s a weak point. I saw the end but couldn’t change it. Fixed point in time. Legend will say (he caught his breath)… will say you killed me here. But we’ll know the truth. (deep breath) That’s the important thing.”

The transition began.

—–

He had no choice, if what the Dr. said was true. Head to the Second Lyle Moon — *potential* Moon — or else be imprisoned for life or worse. He turned back to the green pine forest now almost out of sight before ascending the final bit of slope. “Vanished, man,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Just vanished.”

He had always heard it was otherwise.

—–

He was here.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0617, Purden/Snowlands, Rubi, Teepot+

no rest

Dixon was having that dream again about tubes…

… and tentacles…

… and roads upon roads upon roads to flee upon.

A true nightmare this was.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0613, Mountain Lake, New Eden-

Teepot’s Jeffrie Phillips

“It really is unfortunate that Duncan had to be treated like that. But t’was a necessary evil to eliminate a competitor. One down, two to go. Maybe one. Horace Wise did his shtick well. Railroaded back to Dixie he was.”

“Treasure – must – be – protected.”

“Exactly, Potty Steve. They must never suspect we were the ones behind it all.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0517, Teepot+

Race

“Stop *staring* at the man, Baker Bloch thought about Horace Wise. It’s like he’s never seen a black person before.

“So,” Duncan began, obviously conscious of the riveting gaze, “looks like we’ll have to start without our Mountain Lake representative Ms. Well.”

“A *wo*-man,” spoke Horace Wise incredulously from his side. “I think not. We already have [delete rest of sentence].”

Baker Bloch breathed deeply. Looking at him, Duncan decided to jump in first. “First of all, we’re African-*Americans*. Just like you Horace.”

Horace Wise finally broke his stare, sighed, and waved his arms around in despair. “The Virtual Chel-sea Hotel, the finest building, most likely, in this whole, wide conti-nent. Represented by *you*.”

Alright, that’s it Horace,” states Baker Bloch angrily. “I’m evoking class *5* status by rights of being the *author* of this novel — a *Collagesity* novel, after all — and saying that your Philo is disqualified, disqualified, *disqualified* from the race for the treasure. Now — *get out*. It will be between me, *Duncan* here — a man like yourself, thankfully, or I don’t know *what* you’d call him — and then Lou, our representative apparently from the Mountain Lake region of the Omega continent.” In his rage, he left out the remaining candidate at the table: Teepot’s Jeffrie Phillips.

But Horace Wise didn’t leave immediately. “You’re taking all this serious-ly. The” — he looks over at Duncan — “*black* man here. Then a woman. *Wo*-man.”

“Yes!!” Baker Bloch’s yell could probably be heard all the way over to Horace’s hometown.

And this is probably what a lot of people were like back then. And could still be. Yes, probably were around in good numbers still. Philo is *history*, but history repeats.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0509, Mountain Lake, Myron, Rubi, Teepot+, VHC City

Providence

“The vila of Twin Peaks they called it from 1880 to 1920. One peak protected by God, the other ruled by Satan and his minions. Black and white of course. Er, white, black. No coincidence the *black* peak towers over this subsection centered by the pool; no coincidence eyeman Jacob built his Joint Joint here instead of elsewhere. This is the true Gaston history you’re looking for. Sugar houses and all. I like your new look, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Hitgal replied to Sangria.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Hittie. You seem anxious about something.”

“Oh I’m just staring at that flag… over there on the abandoned laudromat. Do you think it was there, say, yesterday?”

Sangria looked out the window as well. “Don’t know. Why don’t you have some wine instead of that soda pop; smooth your ruffles out.”

“I’m just thinking about… the Dark Days.”

“Oh don’t go back there. God’s here now sweetie. Watching over us all.”

“I’m telling you Officer Brenin. That door has an eye in it.”

“Where? Where?”

Domino glances over. “You’re looking too low, man. Get off your knees. Bend down.”

—–

“Oh yeah. I see it now. But what does it mean?”

“God. Eye of God, man. Looking out and in at once.”

“But the other side: backwards. Dark Days.”

“We’re here to stop all that nonsense,” declares the now upright Officer Brenin, knowing full well what he said was a lie.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0507, Gaston+

houseband

“Mind you, I’ve seen enough giant rats in this town to do me a lifetime, boy.”

“Come on, Uncle Zach. We like the same shades, same drugs, same women. Why should this be different? You *gotta* dig Firesign Theatre, man. It’s just the chillest.”

They listened some more. “Okay, who’s this Hemlock Stones they keep talking about?” demands Domino’s uncle at a tipping point. “Why is he listening to that crazy, transvestite woman and her problems; why do they keep looking for pirates down at that wharf?”

“It’s Sherlock Holmes, stoopid. Man.” Domino shakes his head. “A *spoof*, dad-i-o.”

“I’m not some beatnik fool. Stop calling me… *dad-i-o.*”

“Alright,” Domino relents. “But just *listen*.”

They listen again. “Me and the doc on the dock with the dog — the deadly dog,” the record rapped after a spell. Then said dog exploded.

“Honestly, son, I think I’ve had enough,” and Uncle Zach moved toward the table loaded with their drugs to retrieve a heroin syringe. “I’m going to a place I *understand*.”

A downcast Domino lifts up the needle while Uncle Zach inserts his own.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0506, Gaston+

Chili

“So, like tell me about the building behind me, then,” requested Hitgal, eager for more Gaston-Berry history.

“Owned by the eye guy. *Formerly* owned. Split with the Berries, he and his cat. All bones.”

Hitgal shivers. Let’s go back inside and talk more. Getting colds out here.

—–

“Yeah, I’m gonna rent this poolside apartment starting next week, mind you. Just waiting for the check to come in. John Bob Denver and all. Did a real good job for him.” But that was a job both Domino Wendell Cashmere and Hitgal Dryden Douglas knew they shouldn’t talk about. Fusion.

“That would be chill’n,” responds Hitgal, looking around. “Your 78 inch plasma would fits nicely against that wall over there. We could watch the Atlanta Hawks’ games. Just like old times.”

“Well, unfortunately this is a Brazilian themed sim, see, so probably more soccer on than anything. Notice that soccer ball perpetually bobbing around the pool? That sort of thing.”

“I didn’t see it,” admitted usually observant Hitgal. “In the waters itself?”

“Sure,” replied Domino, then let it drop. He looked down at the table and the open magazine there.

“You thinking about getting a new face, Hitgal? Because: don’t do it. I like you the way you are.” He leans over for a kiss, but Hitgal waves him off, moves toward the wall that might soon provide much soccer entertainment, looks out the window.

*There’s* the soccer ball, she observed. Just like he said, hmm. She wondered if someone was editing her worldview again. Like before, in the Dark Days. She’ll have to look at her old journals to review. Things *hidden* from view. Like the Brazilian flags. Brazilian sports — flags. What else?

—–

Later, Hitgal revealed part of her planned new look. “I’m still working on the color scheme. But… what’s you think?”

Domino doesn’t answer immediately, prompting defensive Hitgal to say: “Mind *you,* Domino, this is *just* the start, hrmph.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0505, Gaston+

Not as big…

… but probably more important.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0504, Gaston+