Category Archives: Heterocera

key items

Jacob I. travels far in his investigations of mainland. Inevitably this takes him to VHC City.

“Muff-Bermingham,” he speaks while studying the public console inside the Quincy Dagger Educational Building there. “Erased, huh? But can a new phoenix rise from the ashes? And what about poor Lou and Morris? — displaced. Morris unable to wake up. Lou already permanently asleep.” He makes a note: at one point I will go rouse Morris if he’s still asleep after my top priority list is completed.

He walks one block west…


“Mmmmmm. Bratwurst.”

… and one block south to find the key shop, just as advertised. It’s on his top priority list to bring this structure to Collagesity. And that goes hand in hand with the most immediate top level item.

But before leaving VHC City he decides to join a raccoon in dumpster diving.

He finds a rolex diamond watch! Jacob I. heads back to Collagesity to unbox the present. Nice!

And now to that most immediate need. He sends a teleport invite to a special friend.

Broken Heart Jackie manifests, silently acknowledges Jacob I. with a nod, and peers around the lower floor of the Blue Feather through his red and blue lensed glasses. “Any grass here?” were her first words in Collagesity.

—–

Jacob I. checked his watch. By 2:23am Standard Linden Time he was sitting with Broken Heart in the newly rezzed town key shop.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0604, Heterocera, Rubi^, VHC City^

message home

It was an especially foggy day in the woods. Jacob I. wandered and studied trees.

“Unch at 168/168,” he says softly while continuing to roam. “Must remember.”

On the far side from Collagesity the fog cleared and Jacob I. came across a tiny writer’s colony. He sat down at a handy laptop and began typing out his thoughts. Good thing he’d brought the thumb drive with him.

Dearest Sugar,

I’ve been in Collagesity for over 3 weeks now. The locals are still treating me well despite knowing about the eye. I now have a small loft apartment above what’s called the Noru Gallery. Interesting collages within. They’re called Rose Hill and Oblong after two villages in Illinois. In fact, about all the collage series of Collagesity are named for small population centers in and around the Jasper County of that state with its Newton county seat. I haven’t quite figured out the reason why. The user of this land is from North Carolina, and has never even been to Illinois. Maybe I should take my hat off more here so I can see better, ha. But I don’t wish to freak out the locals any more than they already are. Carrcassonnee won’t be coming back.

I hope you are also doing well. As always, give my warmest regards to Lemon and the Berries.

Yours in love,
Jacob.

He inserts his thumb drive, downloads the file, and then ejects and sticks it back into his apron pocket. He hopes one day Sugar will receive the messages he scribes while here. Jacob stares toward the small cabin on the property. No one around.

He asks the owner of the land if he can join their writing group. We’ll see what happens, if anything, on that front.

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missed opportunity

At sunset on November 20th, 2017, Snowmanster once again exits the CB Dylan dresser that acts as a portal between dimensions. He finally had tracked down an exciting adventure for Duncan and George involving the escalating Jeogeot Gulf War, where Duncan would play a French Lieutenant and George would be his daughter Sarah.

But no one was there to meet him in the VHC City penthouse apartment except George the doll, propped up on the far couch.

So Snowmanster sat and visited with him for a while before taking his leave, saying he had to head over to Farmington South to offer Peter Pipersville and his son Edward the role instead and to tell Duncan and George that he was sorry he missed them.

He stares out the eastward facing window at the town’s giant hotel before reentering the portal.


“Goodbye VHC City.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0601, Heterocera, VHC City^

no alpha

At 209/168 in the woods this afternoon, Little Boris Spaskey heard its family of owls for the first time.

Billy, Jean, and kid.

“4-2-0, 4-2-0, 4-2-0,” they hooted in staccato manner.

At 192/169, he comes across Bobby’s Grave.

Briggs the Raven attempts to share another secret.

175/168: a creaky, swinging sign (“Cooper”).

And just behind the tree it seems to hang from, at 168/168…

… Boris finds a body in a sack facing the other way.

“Hello,” he calls to it. “Anybody in there?”

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twisty-turny

Olde Lapara Towne’s Rocky Raccoo hasn’t quite given up on the idea of moving to Collagesity, despite his cousins Racket and Sport setting him up nicely with that cabin high up in the Lapara hill country. He can work at the Grand Lapara Hotel, but doesn’t have to live in his old crawlspace area there — quite yet. Life is pretty good. Still he sometimes pops down here in the middle of the night to take a look at the apartment and ponder on the life that could have been. And there’s also the fact that winter is coming. Winter is almost here!

My name remains on the mailbox, Rocky thinks. Bookworm must not have used the town’s postal service during his stay.

There it is. The Hana Lei portal. Baker Bloch worked quite hard on all of this Grassland re-creation. Baker Blinker too.

Portal’s still warm, he says to himself after walking over and feeling the sand castle’s walls. Someone’s used it recently. He’s sees the glint of the green jewel. Hmm. Dare he?

First he decides to take a look upstairs.

I bet you this Bookworm fellow didn’t even meditate, Rocky continues. Scripted Dr. Who throw pillow and great view squandered!

But *they* can look down on him. That was a big factor in his decision not to come here, although he didn’t really express this drawback adequately to The Bakers. Kidd Tower renters could see everything that goes on. And no drapes! Although I guess I could have asked for some. Lots of things happening at once, though: loss of my market, switching jobs, switching places to stay. I didn’t have time to think all the possibilities out. The Bakers promised that I could run Collagesity’s Bodega Supermarket as well.

It’s right down there. I could see everyone that goes in and out from this perch. Advantage. I wonder if this window could be tinted black at night. Kind of a Wall of Jasper effect.

Through the opposite window, there’s a view into the 4th and last apartment in the SoSo Mall complex. The Bakers says it’s rented by a biker guy and his cybernetic lady friend. So that’s more potential spying neighbors. But at least on eye level this time. Still: pretty good view of Collagesity North and the newer part of town next to the Rubi Woods.

Rocky goes back downstairs to the table beside the dune portal and begins making a checklist. Kidd Tower neighbors can see in: negative. Winter is coming to Olde Lapara Towne: positive. 4th Apartment renters can see in at eye level and indirectly: negative, but less of one. Winter is coming: positive.

Rocky puts down the notepad, starts shaking his head. “Winter is coming,” he repeats aloud and looks over at the sand portal. “This will be the final test, then. How far it will take me; how much grass and weed I can find out there in the Great Beyond.”

He digs the owl’s head ring out of the sand in the widest castle turret and places it on the appropriate finger. One twist should do it. Right or left this time? he debates. “Let’s try counterclockwise.” He twists the ring with his body still touching the castle.

“Well this is different.”

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baristas

“What happened to Starbuccanneer Barista?” asked Baker Bloch/Pitch Darkly. “I wanted to show her my new look.”

“I’m Cindy,” answered the new SoSo Mall coffee shop barista. “I have a girlfriend also named Cindy. So don’t try me.”

“Alright. But to my original point.”

Cindy points up, down, all around. “You missed out on the witch.”

Possessed, Baker/Pitch realizes. Just like the old one.

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Gormanbozia

Understanding that Even Whiter Walt’s Mary is most likely not coming back to him, Pitch Darkly decides to visit her creator’s place over on the Gaeta continent to purchase another Mary. What’s his limit for a wife, though? 50 lindens? 100? 150 even?

“Mary?”

Turns out to be just some kind of faceless witch that has the same body type as his former lover.

Pitch rather quickly determined that Mary’s creator is kind of one crazy dude (or dudette). This would be Ponsonby Low, reminding the ancient vampire that his alt ego Baker Bloch originally served an alien named Mr. Low when first manifesting in this world (Second Life) way back in 2008. Any connection? he wondered. In checking, Pitch didn’t find much information about the current Mr. Low except that his user works in publishing in RL, and that he was also born in 2008 like the male Baker. Another older soul here.

Pitch doesn’t quite know what to make of this place. And so much more to look at! But he must remember his mission of finding another Mary.

Pitch gets tired from running around and sits a spell at a complexly designed fountain.

He found her! At least the angling version. “Mary?” he speaks. No answer. This one isn’t animated. At least yet. But the figure is not for sale and he moves on.

He can buy a pointing witch wife for 50 lindens who looks a lot like Mary, once more. But witches and vampires traditionally don’t get along.

40 lindens for this warrior who has Mary’s face. *Is* this Mary? He calls again. No answer. And he’s afraid of pointed objects.

“How ’bout you sweetie, hehe. Wanna go out with me?” Pitch pauses. “Okay, be that way.” He keeps moving.

Finally he spots the real Mary — both of them, in fact — at the end of another of those narrow, rainbow colored bridges that dot the place. He runs down.

“I’m *so* glad to see the two of you! It’s been so long.” But like all the other figures he’s met, the Marys remain silent. He checks the price. 60 lindens for the both of them. Quite reasonable. But for some reason a picture of Tronesisia forms in his mind. “Don’t do it,” she calls. “Wait for me. I’m coming.”

Pitch returns home to Collagesity and his Darkly Manor still without a Mary. He’s landmarked the place where they are. He can return at any time and make the purchase. But maybe, just maybe, he’s outgrown the desire for mere “dolls” for girlfriends and needs a real avatar lady this time. Someone like Tronesisia? But she’s with Peter SoSo, isn’t she? Robots and vampires — he hasn’t heard anything bad about that particular mixture of species.

He sits on the thought.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0504, Clemscott^, Gaeta V^^, Heterocera, Rubi^

stuck?

“You’ve been here a pretty long time in VHC City Duncan,” speaks the boy George. “Don’t you miss home?”

“Bermingham? Sure. But I have an obligation to The Bakers to remain here and wait for a story. You too. So we just stay put here. Hear?”

George sighs. “I guess so. Can’t we at least go back to the (PCH Forest)? I’ve heard the tower has some new things on the top floor. Let’s go look.”

Duncan realizes he can’t keep the kid cooped up in this apartment all the time. Else he’ll drive *him* crazy. “All right,” he says. “But just for an hour. One hour,” he reinforces.

—–

“You happy now George?”

“Yes! I want to stay *here*. Why not?”

“You know why not,” returns Duncan Avocado. “We’re not inside the Sphere here. We’re unprotected. We’re suspect to derezzing. In order to be a part of the story we have to remain in VHC City. Best to be right in the heart of it when it happens.”

“But it’s been 4 months!” complains George. He reviews what occurred. “End of novel 4. I came to Mother Mary in the spaceship.”

“You need to let it be,” Duncan said, speaking words of wisdom. “Drop it,” he added less succinctly without a beat. “What goes around comes around. The End,” he finalizes.

“I study the blog while you’re asleep. I was (recently) mentioned in connection to a police station in Gaston that was formerly a sugar house. George *Carver* Washington I was called. I supposedly was a rookie cop there who shot himself in the arse.”

Duncan sat up, interested.

“Sugar house, you say? Like a sugar house for prisoners or a sugar house for storing molasses and sugar beets and stuff?”

“Both, I think.”

“You know how big I am on prison reform,” he spoke to the 10 year old boy.

“Yeah.”

“Well maybe this is our opening. The other Paul probably isn’t going to come back into the story.”

“Even Whiter Walt?” chimed in George. “I know about him too. You were in one sim and he was in another. But you two were separate. Something about an owl’s head… I’ll have to check.”

“Well, it’s been about an hour here George so let’s go back to the apartment and your computer so you can do that.”

George shakes his head and stands up, looks around.

“I never went over to the main house on the property. I never went beyond the church. I stayed in the forest, Duncan. Just like you told me to.”

“I know. You did good.”

“We can do it again. Together.”

“Story’s not here,” Duncan repeats. “But it could be in this sugar house. Tell me all about what you know. But back at the apartment. We might have found another way out. Now let’s skedaddle outta here.”

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corea

Baker Blinker would scratch her head if she had a free hand. “The treasure map says it’s suppose to be right here Other Baker,” she calls across the property line to her male counterpart.

“Some kind of phantom prim is keeping us apart. It must be the treasure!”

“Could be just the terraforming taking time to kick in,” offers Baker Blinker. “Usually the effect is over after a minute, though.”

“Hmm, I already tried logging off and then back on.”

“Me too.”

“I’m on my side and you are on your side,” resigns Baker Bloch. “But we’re unable to join each other here. At the ‘X’.”

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ss

Perspective enlarged, Chuck Cheese finds herself in a strange place again, walking on a spiraling path upwards toward a rocky summit.

“Both of us can’t be women,” uttered Wheeler Wilson at the top. She changed.

“Right you are, Wilson Wheeler,” returned Chuck Cheese. She also changes.

“A pair of suave, swarthy dudes we make, eh?” said Wilson Wheeler.

Earie was thinking about himself: although just as swarthy, not so suave. “I am almost wholly invisible now,” he complains. “I am just an object to be seen right through. You don’t respect me as a person, Improvio. I mean, Pretty Man. I mean: Wilson Wheeler. Whatever.”

“Do you remember?”

“What happened? Yeah. A merger of church and liquor store.” He looks down into the valley to his right.

“We are the Malefic The Kidd spoke about,” continued Wilson. “With sickly, green wings; tucked in the opposite corner of her, um, building. Imprisoned even. Do you feel like you’re in jail? I do.” He indicates his outfit with a gesture. “This suit. The suit of Bowie.”

“Bowie protects you,” counters Earie. “Without Bowie you are nothing here as well. Object.”

“And who are you suppose to be?” he returns sarcastically. “Sid Vicious?”

Earie lays it out as plain as possible. “We are 2/3rds of the punk band Story Room. Banned from Olde Lapara Towne because of the noise, moved to the hidden vilage of Gaston where there was no ban, turned into pretty things there in order to survive, and then confined like flies to its Central Park. Paper.”

“Fly paper, right,” agrees Wilson Wheeler. “We burn to death again every day. Central Park is without dark and always on fire. Core of a volcano.”

“Seed into tree,” Earie continued even more abstractly. He uncrossed his legs. “Atonal punks we are, Wilson Wheeler.”

“Please,” Wilson Wheeler finally countered concerning his name. “If am that you are The Musician.”

He stops thinking about the spot marked with an “X” in the valley below and turns back toward his counterpart. “Then I am Earie…

… and you are Pretty Man.

But I also get to be Chuck.”

“Get yourself a shoulder pet and we’ll talk later,” compromises the suaver swarthy man sitting opposite him.

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