Category Archives: Gaeta V^^

December 14, 2017 · 7:48 am

breaker breaker

Marion Harding thinks his world might be breaking down. He had been on Gaeta V going on 2 years now. Sent here by trickery and mistake; eventually caught in a tangled web of power and intrigue woven in Capitol City.

He didn’t like the continent’s largest and most central burg very much, although it had elements he admired. Of course there was the money, the flow being strongest here. But heiress Becky Latrobe wouldn’t even let him into her posh house now that he’d shot Dirk in the head and made him dead. And Madam Wanda Stinoble was going straight and returning to the old continents. For Gaeta V was news at the time of its birth eastward of Corsica. News and dangerous. And those darker elements naturally aggregated and congealed at the depression originally called Pittsboro. Pittsboro evolved to Pittington evolved to Darksity evolved to Capitol City. Over time the sinister aspects were smoothed away like the reformed, flat terrain. Gaeta V would have no natural sinkhole that kind history would remember. The Great Black Swamp which sucked up aboriginal settlers such as Ned Bartlett and Kindsey McTweed into an untimely doom was tiled and drained, and a shopping mall now graces its ironed over land, selling the newest threads and peddling fresh leather attache cases soon to be filled to the breach with lindens and gold and jewelry no doubt. Like his own, bought just a week and a half back. Because Marion liked to ensure that each case of treasure had its own home. He could himself probably build a small house with them even now, only 2 years in. Or, really, only 1 3/4 years in because it took him a little bit to find, then ingratiate himself into the sodded fabric of the city.

—–

“Baker, have I ever told you the story of my nephew Marion and how I mistakenly sent him over to walk the length of the Gaeta V continent 2 years back instead of having him watch the GTA V video Spongeberg actually requested at the time?”

“No. Do tell Cardboard!”

“I haven’t heard from him since. Until yesterday. A short note indeed: ‘I think my world might be breaking down.'”

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December 12, 2017 · 5:43 am

thorny situation

The Musician as Sikul Himakt was having that dream about roses again. Scene: VHC City; The Diagonal.

He sits in front of a video game featuring the Rising Sun with an odd retro cartoon punk who speaks Japanese.

In the dream he understands him. “There’s no side to choose,” he says as the game remains unplayed. Tiny Hermania looks down from the center of her rose tinted world, protesting the idea. “Choose!” she calls while hanging from a vine.

He grasps the red joystick opposite the green one. Pain! They were at the island tree, then. The Musician once again shows the cartoon punk the wound on his outturned hand.

The other hand he keeps to himself.

“I will remove the thorn and make this one better too,” he says, still speaking somehow understandable Japanese. The Musician starts to wake up. “I will make this better.”

—–

He stares up at Chroma Jimmy, who is wrapping his left hand. The right one has already been bandaged. He sits on the Asian couch at their lodgings. Jimmy chatters while continuing his twirlings. “As I said, I’m a physicist not a physician. But I worked with a man at the Australian Astronomical Observatory who studied stellar anomalies in the Southern Cross for years. Same thing happened to his hands, and also his side. Stigmata it’s called. Identification with the crucified Christ.” The Musician was about to protest that he wasn’t religious when Jimmy guessed the confusion. “Doesn’t matter about your faith. Something else is behind it. Philip wasn’t religious either, but he was a fanatic. Of science. Perhaps that’s all it takes. And… there, that should do it. The bleeding doesn’t seem to be stopping but it’s slowed down. Maybe that’s all we can ask of this condition, if yours tracks with Philip’s.”

“And stay away from that blasted island!” added Wheeler forcefully behind him.

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December 10, 2017 · 9:57 am

limey

“Pitch, I’d like you to meet Jessica — put your hand back, sweetie, he’ll shake it in a moment — and this here is Phillip Linden. You know about my creator now. Well, Phillip kind of created this *whole thing* we’re in, this Second Lyfe of ours.”

“Cool,” Pitch replied. “Nice to meet you Jessica, Phillip.”

“Phillip runs a bar now,” continues Mary. “Just for laughs and giggles, you know. Something to do when he’s not away creating worlds. Like now apparently, haha.” She turned toward him to emphasize his “away” status at the time.

“Right.”

“We should go sometime,” suggests Mary, then winks at him. “To the bar, I mean.”

“What about *Steven*?” Was Mary asking him on a date despite what he knows?

“Steven schmeven…”

“I knew you were going to say that.”

“You and I, Pitch,” said Mary to her pale counterpart. “We’re the real deal.” She turned to Philip and shouted. “Hey in there! Hey Phillip! What time does your bar open!?” Everyone in the building turned and stared.

Philip woke up from his away status, looked around. “Um, what was that, er, Mary?”

“I said!” Then she lowered her voice, realizing there was no need to shout any longer. “I *said*… what time does Gene Autry open?”

“Gene Autry?”

“The bar, silly. Your bar. Just over there in the corner of the sim. Above the ride. On the second floor of the freebies shop.” She turned back to Pitch, took his hand. “Here, let’s just head on over, sweetie. Phillip’s there already. I should know.”

—–

“You see, Pitch darling. *This* is where it all happens. A philosopher’s corner. A veritable cornucopia of ideas and inventions. Why, just last week Phillip suggested the idea of a cubic moon for Second Life with equilateral gravity on all six sides. Not flat like this place. And I think that’s where it’s all headed, Pitch. Diagonal. Because diagonal leads beyond. Have you ever moved in a diagonal sugar?”

Pitch didn’t really know what Mary was babbling on about. A young black man who had been sitting on the opposite side of the room suddenly moved toward the bar toting a large, green lime between his hands. Not saying anything, he placed it on the counter, then exited via the stairs down to the lower floor.

Phillip became fully awake again, looked at Mary, looked at the big lime. “A lime is called a linden in Britain.”

“Who *was* that shadowy figure?” he begged.

And so it began.

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December 10, 2017 · 9:14 am

What is it?

“I simply don’t remember this, um, display Musician.”

“It was here, Wheeler. It’s the same cave, after all.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“It’s the same,” exclaims The Musician again while now clinging to a thorny rose vine.

“It’s the same.”

Around the corner, Lou and Osborne Well titter.

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December 9, 2017 · 7:18 am

spots 02

“Pitch Darkly will be here shortly. As soon as they start talking to Phillip Linden run over there and lay this giant lime on the bar counter close to them. That’s all you have to do. Just wait here.”

“Yes,” affirms Young Duncan, hip to her trip.

“Come on, honey,” says the approaching Osborne Well. We have somewhere else to be now. Should’ve been there about 2 hours ago, blimey.”

—–

“Too late,” states Lou to her father in the Comfrey caverns. “Wheeler must have come fetched The Musician after all. I suppose that’s good, huh? Right daddy?”

Wondering what he’s distracted by, Lou goes over and merges with him, then stares out with same eyes at the manifested creature in the center of the glimmering cave pool.

MOA.

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December 8, 2017 · 6:50 am

stories

“See Musician? I told you I’d send for you.

Just had to find the right pose.”

“Let’s find another one,” he demanded.

—–

“Not as good, Wheeler Wilson.”

“Shmursguug.”

—–

“I don’t understand what we’re doing here, Wheeler.”

“Shut up and get off my back you heavy lug.”

—–

“Another one with the back, Musician.”

“I think you’re suppose to be the man here, Wheeler.”

“Typical. And you’re getting your pink punk hair in my eye again.”

“A couple more still,” he requests.

—–

“It’s the owl’s head ring, Musician, hehe. Go ahead. You know you wanna.”

“Oh Jesus me,” he croons playfully while still clasping hand to mouth.

—–

“Psst. Don’t look now, Musician,” Wheeler whispered. “But that little red man is back again, ha.”

—–

“I’m pregnant, Wheeler Wilson. And this man who’s been following us around is our future son Sammy.”

“Makes sense.”

But then Jimmy breaks the spell. “Hi. I was wondering if you knew where the bathrooms are around here.”

—–

“I kind of miss Jimmy since he left, Wheeler.”

“Me too.”

“Let’s go find him and invite him to lunch with us.”

“Great idea!”

—–

“This is my favorite one of all.”

“Look, Musician, there’s Jimmy. Over here Jimmy!”

—–

“Trade with me, punk. I want to get to know Jimmy better.”

—–

“Service around here is awful, eh Jimmy?”

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December 6, 2017 · 10:31 am

hidden technicolor

Wheeler and The Musician realized that they weren’t going to be leaving Comfrey anytime soon.


“You stay camped here tonight, Musician, while I explore the rest of the place.”

But, still, all vacations have to end.

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December 5, 2017 · 6:36 am

All Mary’s

“I’m real, you know. I’m not just a doll.”

“You’re not my Mary,” a slightly drunk Pitch Darkly grumbles. He looks up. “What did I get you for our one month anniversary together?”

“Sapphire,” she quickly responded. “Pen.” She points toward her scarf. “The one I’m wearing.”

“Impressive,” Pitch says with a head tilt and a smirk. “So do all you clones know everything about each other? You Clem clones?”

“We’re not clones. We’re all the same. There’s a difference. Let me show you something. I want to introduce you to my friends here. Do you have time?”

“Sure,” replies Pitch. What’s time here? he thinks to himself.

—–

“Pitch Darkly,” says the seated Mary in a nearby building. “These are my mates Patti (“Hi!”), Ben (“Hellooo!”), Paul (“Likewise!”) and Tammi (“Nice to meet you!”). Why don’t you have a seat, Pitch. Have a drink as well. There’s a bar right over there.”

“No thanks, I’ll stand.” Pitch was trying to determine what this was. A party of mannequins? But Mary still talks to me. And all the others responded as well.

—–

Suddenly he was across the room, standing before Mary still but with a new friend this time. “We’ll get back to the party soon enough, Pitch. I wanted you to meet Steven first. I met him shortly after Hana Lei was destroyed by snow and ice… couldn’t handle the weight. Steven is a brick layer. Best in the four sim region.”

Steven stands up, shakes Pitch’s hand vigorously with a vise grip. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard so many things about you.” He glances over at Mary and returns to his seat.

—–

Then he was at the bar in another part of the same floor. Mary was bartending again. Another Bucket of Blood manifests in front of him out of thin air. The sun was setting on Clemscott. The automatic lights were warming up.

“So you see, we’re not clones. We’re all the same. Every last one of us. All Mary’s. Like Nancy before us. Like *everyone*, really. Like you, Pitch Darkly. Who are you deep inside that white, bloodied exterior? You know.”

But Pitch’s mind was not set on philosophy tonight. Something more basal and immediate troubled him. “So you have a new boyfriend now,” he blurts with aching heart.

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December 5, 2017 · 4:55 am

Clemscott

Pitch Darkly teleports into the centre of Clemscott. As he knew from previous visits, the owner of the sim had marked the spot with a grassy, oval lozenge. This Clem fellow. Clem Scott maybe. Smart like a Fox.

Merlin’s Mound dead ahead, as Pitch has dubbed it. Grassy green like the central object he stands upon. Extension?

What, if anything, is buried within?

This is a grassy avenue just beyond that interests Pitch greatly for reasons I won’t go into just yet.

The avenue extends along the north side of… well I’m just going to let the pictures basically tell the story.

According to these signs adorning the surrounding square shaped wall in all 4 of its corners, the fenced-in region of approx. 1024 meters (32 x 32 meters) holds what are apparently experimental building projects, with apologies given for the involved dust. You can actually buy the wall and attached signs for 50 lindens. Pitch is tempted…


Walled region.


Viewing platform?


Banana and apple.

Once again, Pitch realizes he’s not going to be able to figure it out tonight. He must move on. But not before noting this 32 meters long “measuring rod” extending well below the surface here. 32 meters is also the length of each side of the walled compound.


Walled region and “Merlin’s Mound”.

Pitch decides to quench his parched throat at a neighboring bar before continuing. “Bucket of blood,” he requests to the familiar bartender. “No nails.”

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December 4, 2017 · 5:31 am

spots

Meanwhile, the upper 2/3rds of *Story Room*, so to speak — Pretty Man and Earie/Chuck — had decided to splurge on an early Christmas present and vacation in luxurious Comfrey on the Gaeta continent, noted for its staged environments. But those names are misnomers at this point, as Wheeler Wilson had fully changed back into a woman now after leaving the role of Pretty Man behind in Gaston, while The Musician had similarly set aside his desire to play female Chuck Cheese in addition to male Earie. So we’ve got a sort of reset for these two back to VHC City days from earlier in 2017. And I suppose that may mean they’re actually not the top 2/3rds of Story Room any longer either. Shoot.

The vacation literally got off on the wrong foot when Wheeler slipped on an icy spot while stepping out of the unicorn drawn carriage which brought them to their lodgings.

But luckily the fall only hurt her pride. New-ish shoulder pet Sidechick Corea was okay too.


“Pheh.”

—–

Baker Bloch — er, Pitch Darkly also had new digs, albeit of a more modest variety. He stares out from his porch across the water toward Clemscott, owned by the creator of his beloved Mary. He’s also decided to return to a prime state. He will not give up on his dolls.

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