Category Archives: Weird-o Islands

00490209 (curse purse)

Peter walks through the tunnel leading to the temple named Penn and changes into his 5 year older brother who is the same age as him in the process. Another queer dream!

Numerous pens scattered on the floor within, along with a couple of pencils inserted here and there to reinforce the theme. Just what Peter Tron needs so that his good egg good friend Bardie can properly express his feelings and not have to inadequately speak about them. Penn produces pen! Marvelous. Goal found.

He’s about to pick up a couple of ’em to bring back when he spots a phantom version of the painting he’s been working on so long and hard recently above a step ladder to his left colored the same as the cyan energy lines in his futuristic bodysuit and also “frisbee”. He knows this is leading him further and that his journey into the temple is not done with the writing utensils.

… down a side passage…

… brushing past narrowing walls into Center.

He changes once more into an even older brother who’s the same age and gets back to work running the place he remembers he’s the black king of, this Paperville and attached Weird-o Islands. True endpoint for him.

Tron Axis checks his watch not on his arm. 10 years have passed, period. Close enough to make it stick. He inks up the antique blue jay feather pen in front of him to continue even further down this rabbit hole of a place. (TBC)

Bathroom, he thinks while putting quill to parchment. Bathroom is next. Water closet.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0209, Paperville^^, Weird-o Islands

00490208

“We love you, baker b.!

“And we want you to come home too!”

“Not for a while, Mother, Father.” And so we, I, continue… The last of my kind.

Besides, these aren’t really my shared little world parents. I saw the unequal love since almost the beginning, one in the air, the other not.

Rock beats Paper because it possesses Scissors, a depravity of what was suppose to be a round and round and round, fair deal situation.

And with the examination and usage of this sculpture menagerie replacing my original one coming from Newbank/Newbrooke, I think I might be done with the Bellisaria series of continents as a whole for a while, however which way you spell it. Other places to examine. Like Paperville.

—–

Peter Oesso, clothes back on and red rose dreams finally ended, sits at a table drinking espresso to match the returned t-shirt, waiting on…

She remembered.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0208, Bellisaria, Continent 04, Continent 06, Paperville^^, Weird-o Islands

00490204 (bottoms 02 (all cracked up))

She hadn’t tried in 100s of days, maybe 100s of weeks. She was tired of pussyfooting around. “Permission to come aboard!” she shouted over in as confident of a tone as she could muster given the circumstances. No answer for a while, maybe 100s of seconds, then: “Permission DENIED.” The old, crusty sea chaplain turned captain who didn’t know when to give up himself wanted to reply immediately but was fixing a hole on the starboard side (away from you, the reader or readers) and couldn’t be bothered at first. But: one hole fixed and two more appear, it seems, like apples for banana. He contemplating just ignoring the poor, foolish girl, standing over there probably in just flesh and bits of white, like she does (he imagined). The man: only red. But still he knew they were man and wife, as close as one could get without multiple marriage vows. He had to hold himself partly responsible. Given that he was the one who married them, way way back in the day. “Go AWAY. We’ve said our bits, our parts. It’s up to YOU to make it work.” Red and white red and white, he thought. Surely they can better coordinate all that, divide the hues up in a fairer, more democratic way. And *not* have to enter his unrepairable *republican* shipp, pheh. No, he would stand steadfast against change (what was he *thinking*).

“I KNOW who you are,” she tried again. “You will NOT get this shipp with its broken rigg and all to float, no way jose. Not without MY help.” (TBC)


dreams of repair

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0204, Haven, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Weird-o Islands

00490203 (bottoms)

I was standing on the lip of a big hole, staring down, naked except for a single rose.

A woman, also naked but with a bit more protection, 2 bits more but white roses not red, was way way down at the bottom, sitting on what appeared to be a pier by a pool.

But that wasn’t the end of it. She was also peering down, into the waters of a 2nd hole. Deeper, deeper… a ship far below her even. Sunk 100s of years ago, maybe 1000s of years ago. The Sinking Ship it was called even *before* the accident.

She jumps, I jump. More passages to come (TBC).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0203, Haven, Weird-o Islands

00490202

I intended to paint abstract today but this muff fascinated me and I had to return to it. The textures, the color, the lighting. I was starting to get the swing of things. Abstraction tomorrow, then. I promise (to myself).

“Yo, brother of mine,” he called from the window, sneaking up on me as he often does when I’m painting, when I’m absorbed in the creative work. His friend Bardie came along this time. I like Bardie. Good with words, he is; helps me with my artist’s statements and artwork descriptions. Good egg.

“Yes, hello brother of *mine*. Welcome. I see you’ve helped yourself to the espresso machine through the window.” Does this all the time. Sometimes I wonder if he secretly has elastic arms. Queer thought to match a queer brother (but not in that way).

“Right right. Couldn’t wait.”

“How about you, Bardie?” As good as Bardie is with writing words, he’s bad with saying them. Really bad. He kept silent at first, as was his style. “Good,” he finally managed after about 10 seconds.

“You’re good as in you’re okay without coffee, orr, good as in you’d like a cup of coffee? Choose oh wise one.” But he just nodded, keeping the situation ambiguous. I decided to give him one just in case. He can let it sit there if he doesn’t want it.

“Tell you what, Bardie, this one’s on the house.” And I laid the cup I just poured down in front of his expressionless face. Ahh… paper, I think while staring at it. Next time I’ll put a piece of paper in front of him with a pen to derive needed answers. I wonder why I hadn’t thought of that approach before.

This led me to Paperville and dwelling on the old days (TBC).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0202, Bellisaria, Continent 04, Paperville^^, Weird-o Islands

Dream Book

Kick-ass Bogota gets valuable information from an ur-parent and relays later to Axis-Windmill in Horns of Hatton.

—–

“I’m trying to reclaim the messed up 5th. You know Messed Up, don’t you Kick-ass?”

“My *brother* does. A different Kick-ass…”

“… for a different season, yes. You are… unformed… yourself.”

Kick-ass Bogota thought about this for a minute, then said: “You have been uninformed about this. I am instead *uniformed*, as in decorated, as in ace pilot of the 1st World Wide Web War.” He knocks on his forehead with this, pure metal revealed by the clunks.

“Faulkner, then.”

“Maybe,” he shot back quickly, then looked out the window at the surrounding chaos. Unformed, uninformed, uniformed. Brother Kick-ass would switch signs with him later in the night so he could talk more with Axis-Windmill at the Horns bar where they now meet regularly. Lichen Roosevelt is usually there, serving up drinks behind the bar. The Mann is *always* there. Taking notes, most likely. And who is that he spies (at the time) in the back. Green like him, at least in the shirt. And those apples…

—–

“It’s time you got away don’t you think. You’re only *Kind of* Messed Up.”

Kind Of Messed Up takes a sip of his drink and mulls this over. Junbug does the same with her Bombs Away.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0415, Horns of Hatton^, Maebaleia/Satori, Stranger Creek^, Yaya Land

Strange Isle


thing to fear

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0024, 0517, Maebaleia/Satori, Stranger Creek^, Weird-o Islands, X-City^

Stranger Creek (trees)

Preceding the cone(s), there were big plans (again) for Stranger Creek, not known atall as that name back in the days. Instead [delete name]. Let’s try that again: [delete name]. Looks like the correct, past (pre cone(s)) name will have to wait. But you can see the difference. What went wrong (again)? It looks like we must find out in order to move this here photo-novel forward, 21 in a list of 20. Or at least make up something plausible and believable according the pre-setup parameters. Um. Categories and tags I mean here, which are the same as locations and characters. Things I have to leave alone. Locations and characters are complicated enough to keep up with! Things like pyramids, cones, bluebirds, the lot: no way. No Blue Jay way.

Then:?

Now:

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0406, Stranger Creek^, Weird-o Islands

Stranger Creek 02

He was as close to the centre as he could be while remaining on solid.

He looked over at the big cone, where everything started to go wrong. Perhaps The Boy wasn’t here, but his influence has lasted. Through time. Whether he was or wasn’t the same as Illuminatus, the Great God of Chaos and Destruction and Deception and the like, didn’t really matter. Because he was merely a pawn in a game of long duration. Centuries. Yet only seconds as well.

He does a double take. The cone moved!

Someone else was here in this queer, weird land.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0405, Stranger Creek^, Weird-o Islands

Apple’s Orchard 02

They were. And so was Bigfoot. The locals referred to it as Her Majesty, again for mysterious Xplicit reasons. In the winter when she became all snow covered, she was more often called a yeti. 12, up to 13 residents were lost each holiday season. Baker’s dozen; Baker never liked that kind of talk associated with his name. Because that meant he was the last one to blame, I mean, he was to blame for the last one, the thirteen. If only he’d been a better Christian as a boy. The Boy. And now he’s paying through the Dark Peak of 2. Twin Peaks. Just like Harrison Jett had. The real deal.

If only he knew what the bluebird chirped down at Blue Jay Bay he would be a head of the game.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0404, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, NWES Island^, Stranger Creek^, Weird-o Islands