“After you dearest.”
“No I insist. After *you*.”
—–
Rebl paused in her drinking. “Someone has entered.”
“Aberrant?” the drink-less Guyd asked. They’d been expecting this.
“Could be.” She takes another sip of the hot liquid. At any rate, she knew their hidden room would be safe.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0309, End of Time+
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0308, Bogota, collages 2d, End of Time+, Puerto Rico, Silverton
“He said that this land was my land but it was also *his* land, Fran. Wonder what that means?”
Young, naive Fran couldn’t stop tittering at the, to her, funny sight. “He’s got (*snicker*), no face — no *skin*.”
“Hellooo!” it spoke again cartoonishly. “I’m a [delete phrase].”
“Whoa, whoa,” Jer Left Horn called to him from the chair while holding out his hands in protest. “No need for that kind of language ’round here, Norris. You *did* say that was your name. Didn’t you — Norris?”
“Mo Flo Joe No.”
Fran kept tittering. “I think he means — *no* (giggle).”
“Wellll… *what*, then?”
A very faint “Jerry” then popped out of his hot pink mouth. Then: “Harry,” almost as faint. Then, rapidly in succession, just a little louder even, “Harry, Jerry.” Then louder, more assertive: “Jerry. Harry.” Then loudest of all by far. “JERRRRY. HARRRRRY!”
“Okay,” calms Jer Left Horn, hands out again. JERRRRY and especially HARRRRRY were still echoing around the hills surrounding them. “You’re Jerry. You’re Harry.”
“He’s Jerry,” states Fran mundanely, patting his red hair and staring at his face. “He’s Harrry.” She tweaks his cheeks here. Jer Left Horn thinks he winces a little with this, the first facial expression beyond “blank” he’s seen.
“Hey,” he requests to Fran. “I think you hurt him there a bit. That (he comes over to look better) skin might be sensitive.” He points. “Yeah, see there? You’ve left red marks.”
Fran covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh. Oh dear. They’re *bleeding* or something. I’m *so* sorry.” She runs inside to get some tissues from her purse, water dripping from her face.
His face changes…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0307, End of Time+
“I think we’ve got everything we need, Merry. Rope, tent, flashlights. It’s all there. The general store here set us up real good with all these freebies.” He finally looks over; pays attention. “Oh my, you’ve changed again.”
“Yeah, the skin is gone. Been gone for about 30 minutes,” *Breeze* replies. “You’ve been calling me the wrong name for a while.”
Axis goes over to her, holds her. “I’m sorry.” They lock hands. “I promise to pay more attention.”
“It’s okay.” She leans in for a kiss.
—–
“I see it in the enlarged fire, Rules of Rose. Merry Gouldbusk is succumbing (!). We must do something to alter the mix.”
“Do something,” Rules of Rose echoed, also staring. “But — what?”
Ruby Fantasie looked to her right. “Norris. Norris could help. Put him back in that tree.”
“If you in-*sist*,” spoke the elven fairy, readying her powers of teleportation once more. This was her plan all along, though.
“He already knows his lines. Just send him. Break a limb!” she called over for encouragement as he vanished from the scene.
—–
“Hell-oo! Hellllooo!”
Jer Left Horn spots the source of the call up in his beloved tree. He stands. “Who are you?’
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0306, End of Time+
“’69,” Jer Left Horn pronounced, reading the year address above the door to the hitherto unvisited castle.
“And then the suggestion to set your draw distance to 96.
“Sounds like my kind of place.” He sets his draw distance to 96 meters and opens the door….
It was his kind of place.
He finds his way to the bar upstairs. He starts trying to dig up more information about the caves, about End of Time itself. Big Ass Franz the bartender was compliant enough. Jer Left Horn has found that about everyone directly associated with the estate is pretty friendly and open. Good qualities to work with in an investigation. Or pleasantries attached to such a task. Cloe Price is the prime exception so far. Fran — tough exterior but eventually caved. He left her back in his cabin to make this night trek. He’d spotted the castle door at the canal the day before and earmarked it for a visit.
“Cats?” returned Franz, knowing Jer Left Horn was getting into deeper territory; unknown passages.
“Yeah, I’ve heard…”
“That they’re part human? Some of them anyway.”
“Yeeaahh,” Jer Left Horn said back, getting more information off the top than he expected. “That tooo.”
Franz looked around the establishment, at the pictures. “You can’t have them. That’s forbidden fruit.”
“Say’s who?” Jer Left Horn hated for people to tell him what he could and couldn’t do. Being royalty all your life will turn you into that.
“Say’s *them*.”
Jer Left Horn turns slightly on his barrel seat, hiding his horn a bit more from Franz. He strokes his chin wisely. He looks at the pictures too. He’s now more determined than ever to meet one of these cat-people. “Do you *know* any of ’em?” he decides to ask.
Franz wipes down the bar, as if distracted. “Just one,” he managed.
“Welll? What’s her name?” Jer Left Horn didn’t have to ask the sex. He could tell from the bartender’s actions that he loved this creature a bit.
“Rebl,” came the answer. After saying her name, Big Ass Franz excused himself and went in back to have a little sob.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0305, End of Time+
Fran was tittering at something Cloe had just showed her on her phone. A cow blowing the hat off a farmer. Jer Left Horn didn’t get it, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Instead he decided to kill two birds with one stone, as it were. “You girls like cats? Because I loooove cats. Got two back at the cottage. Wanna see? One for each, one for each,” he attempted to tempt again, doubling down on the effort.
“Can’t talk. Phone,” responded Cloe curtly. We’ve been here before.
—–
Running out of options, Jer stood up, determined to play his final card. “You know, girls — clothing is optional here. Why don’t I, let’s see, shed *these* clothes and go over there and look out at the bay, hmmm? Maybe you girls — *ladies* will join me then.
“Doubtful,” returned Cloe crisply. “Doubtful,” echoed her friend Fran but with less conviction. She wanted to see!
—–
“Just *look* Cloe,” Fran whispered excitedly across the table.
“Not interested,” reinforced Cloe, looking for another funny video to share with her friend. Her dear dear friend.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0304, End of Time+
He thought he’d do some ice fishing while he was here, a favorite pastime from way back when he was a kid. He’s looking for his wayward brother Benny Right Horn, true, but nothing in the royal decree said he couldn’t turn the assignment into a kind of vacation as well, get a little feel for the local culture and habits. Plus he just loved that giant live oak over there on the peninsula. He’d been coming every day here since he arrived 3 days back. Finally he caved: ice fishing it is. If his mother (the Heart Queen) found out so be it. Benny was probably long gone from here anyway, his brother Jer Left Horn rationalized. Into the caves and out into another dimension.
Jer was not yet prepared to enter the End of Time cave system himself. He was still gathering intel from the locals. People disappeared. *Groups* disappeared. Children — old people. The cave didn’t discriminate due to age. Some pin responsibility on the cats also known to inhabit the caves; say they use a different set of tunnels to surprise and capture visitors. He needed to find one of those cats, attempt to communicate with them if possible. His great great grandmother was part cat on her father’s side. Maybe he could use that bit of shared heritage as leverage. Start up some kind of conversation. Ideally the contactee would be at least somewhat invested in genealogy, then. But he’d also heard of cats with human qualities, hmm. That could lead to — no, he promised his mother he’d set aside his promiscuous ways in this quest. Always the distraction for you, she called him out.
He couldn’t help himself, though. He had an eye on a girl who always sat at the same table beside the canal in the village. Today was the day to make a move, he thought while trying to spot any fish swimming below the ice. Maybe this pond was devoid of them? He’d been here 2 hours. No bites yet. Time to move on to bigger fish. In the village….
“Goodbye live oak. See you tomorrow.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0303, End of Time+
“Ahh. *There* she is, Rules of Rose. Hitting the tracks again.” She tries to call over once more, a little softer than before, knowing the futility of it. “Tessa. Tessa, honey. It’s me. Your Aunt Ruby.”
“She still can’t see or hear you,” states elven fairy Rules of Rose beside her. “It’s — different over here.”
Ruby Fantasie folds her hands over her lap, leaning back. “I know.” She sighs.
“It’s because of me.” Rules of Rose puts her hands to her eyes, beginning to cry (again). “I’m so sorry *sob*”.
Tessa makes her way back into the heart of the cave system, seeing/hearing nothing.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0217, End of Time+
She just had to get out of that cave system for a while. She’d just learned about the death of Mssr. Gold (again). Her grandfather! Tessa ruminated about the good times driving around that old, clunky narrowboat. Taking it here, there, *everywhere*. Anywhere her grandfather could dream about. And now he’s gone (again).
Oh well, she thinks while getting up out of the old boat and walking toward the cave mouth. He’ll probably be back tomorrow or something.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0216, End of Time+
Some would later say it happened in Burnt Oak, a logical transference because everything was so open and exposed there — and hot. Plus the word Burnt threw people off. But, in truth, only the more temperate or moderate clime around the bay at North Yd escaped the extreme heat of daytime paired with the quite chilly night degrees. There was certainly more a *swing* in temperatures up here on the plateau making up most of The Waste. And it was during one climax moment of heat that the bush ignited and became rooted on that spot forever and ever. Or very nearby, since it managed to crawl a bit more, to the edge of the Junk Yd sim itself. It wasn’t in Burnt Oak, despite the legends.
Nor was it in the Sand Seas in the southwest corner of this land, although rumors persisted down through the years that this was the location as well. Again because of all the heat and openness there.
But certainly 3D and Hoborobo here knew better. Because it was their job to take care of the God Portal. People tired of playing second fiddle in an orchestra of ill definition and sought the pure truth coming from the ever-never burning leaves and branches. Well, branches now, because the ever-never burning leaves had finally burned off after a century of ignition, leaving only the ever-never branches to define the bush. Experts estimated that the branches would perhaps last, at best, another century, maybe even down to 50 years. The God Portal has a limited, functional window, despite the rumors and legends that it is perpetual. And already, we’ve seen a breakdown in functional information coming from this window. Just yesterday it misspelled itself as Buch (for example).
Still, ever-never — a word that could only apply to the Bush. Just outside.
“It’s your turn to water it, Hoborobo.”
“No YOU,” he lashed back. They were both very very tired of taking care of the thing. Hoborobo personally was starting to see it as a portal of evil (Devil) instead of good. 3D remained neutral on the subject, drawing from a more well rounded body of information.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0215, The Waste+
Sunklands 