Category Archives: NVFS
00480407
I stumbled out of the Athens restaurant, trying to get away from the doubling and the confusion as fast as possible. The tape wouldn’t work, the tape wouldn’t *work*! And I didn’t know where I was; it was all a maze of streets and jumble of people, people everywhere going in all directions at once. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I felt I was going to scream. I did. I wake up.
—–
He’d heard about a bar up the coast under new management and decided to check it out. “Pirates,” he muttered while pulling in and seeing the treasure map graffiti on the outer wall. But some of them are okay, he remembered. Like Randolph, which started him wondering where in the heck *is* Randolph the Bastard Pirate? He hadn’t seen him in years, it seemed. Anyway, he thought, better head in. Gotta get past that outside pirate first, he he. I’ll bump him real good to make sure he knows who’s the boss. “‘Scuse me fellow.”
Hmm, just passed right through the guy. One of those lifeless flatties, he thought.
And then, inside the bar, more flat, a haircut this time, apparently ongoing judging by the proximate hand with buzzing razor.
“Corona Ultra then, lady,” he ordered after picking his seat and getting the name of the house brand. He needed more alcohol to deal with the strangeness here, but then was greeted with: “We only got Non. No actual booze here, not after the attack by the alcoholic sea monster. Don’t want a return,” she said flatly, as was her overall style and the overall style of the bar as a whole, starting with the flat treasure map, the flat pirate flattie leaning against the front door outside.
“Oh. Okay. A Non, then, I guess. Do I still have to–?”
“Yes,” she said, anticipating the end of his question about paying for the thing he doesn’t desire. She’d heard it before. Several strangers coming here and asking the same. Like Peet Pelican over in Juho. Like Sachie B. from Vortexville, Raymond from Redwoods, Stillman from Stiletto Heels Hills. Drinkers like to drink what they call the real stuff, the real thing. But she’s aiming to change all that with a Non brew that will knock them off their heels, especially Stillman with his stiletto shoes I suppose.
While he was waiting for his drink he didn’t really want to pay anything for, the man simply known as Biker further inspects the place. “What’s with the robot?” he queried.
“Oh, came with the place,” she said while pouring. “I guess that it dropped down from the hillside above sometime during the renovation and just got lodged inside. So I set it upright, let it walk in place again. He’s harmless. I think. Anyway, I haven’t decided if I want to keep him or not. There’s another one, another robot — smaller — still up on the hill about to tumble over the side too. Maybe he’ll join him soon. Dunno, in summary. I call him Clocky but he doesn’t speak, he doesn’t have any soul that I can tell. Maybe he just needs reactivation.”
“I see.” (TBC)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0407, Europe, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, NVFS, South Lake, Vortexville
00480314
“And so Edward disappeared back into the woodwork with the seance, hopefully never to be seen again. The End. Thank you so much, Lexi — dawg — for your channeling efforts on this matter. I owe you big time.”
“You’re welcome. But… scroll back to the first picture, Frank,” she requested, trying to stay calm for appearances. She wanted to check and compare.
Yup, that’s him all right. Only the colored version of Pierrot was returned to the walls of the castle, she then knew, and even that might only be temporary. The white one was still out and about, and causing trouble by the looks of what was going on up on the hillside over there. Lexi didn’t have the heart to tell Frank the bad news.
Don’t believe him! Lexi wanted to cry to a potential convert also spied in the distance. Everything *can* be fixed. Her whole existence depends on that very truth.
(TBC)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0314, Jeogeot, Mythopolis, Nawt Vaya, NVFS
00480305
He was talking to himself again while writing. “Golden glove, golden *glover*,” he muttered. Philip had turned his back on the man called Mouse, thinking about his own stuff. Like how to beat Mouse’s high score in High Speed. Maybe take some speed? NO, he cannot go down that route to highness again. Might end up in another dimension once more! “Philip,” said Mouse. “Could you please move your elbow a bit. Trying to concentrate here.”
“Have you figured it out?” asked curious Frank to his left. He knew he hadn’t but was just making conversation to kill time. They’d finished eating and didn’t want to do anything else. Just: rest. No pinball for Philip, no piano for Frank. At least for a while. But Mouse had his post-dinner project. Scribbling down notes about the Youtube poop videos he’d been watching and studying, focus on CENTER. He couldn’t wait. It was just that urgent for him.
“It would *help* if I knew the name of the character who emerges from the wall of static in 08:10.” Mouse had started naming his videos after their time, but neither Frank nor Philip were keeping tabs. To them all the videos blurred together in a great big chaotic mess. They didn’t see the beauty in the re-mix products that Mouse did. I guess he had to. Salvation and all. Plus he was in some of them so that helped draw him in. He saw *himself* in them. He could identify. “Philip… *please*,” he requested again about the elbow.
Philip got up, stretched. “I’m booored. Let’s play Weegee again.”
“It’s *not* a game to play… like pinball,” Frank said to this. “It’s a channeling device. Serious stuff.”
“Nah,” said Philip, dismissing Frank’s opinion. “A game,” he punctuated his own belief about it. “But I’ve changed my mind again. I think I’ll explore the upper levels this afternoon, see what’s up there.”
“*Maybe*,” offered Frank. “Lexi needs some help straightening out the house *down* there,” and he pointed down toward the ground where Philip officially lived, in Lexi’s house by the sea. But in truth he spends almost 1/2 his time up here in the sky, in Frank’s giant moving castle that appears to have lost its sense of mobility. That’s about to change.
“Nah,” repeated Philip. “Upper levels.” And he moved through the opening of the kitchen down to the living room to access the spiral staircase. Sighing, Frank decided to follow him and leave Mouse to his notetaking.
(TBC)
00480304
“Soo. I gotta ask this, Frank. Is Mouse your *boyfriend* now or something?”
“Noooo.” But he was thinking: Might as well be. We’re stuck together up here it seems. Until Mouse learns his lesson; could take a while, he knew. A looong while. “How’s your *girlfriend* doing, Philip?” Frank thinks to ask in turn, knowing Nada and he were still going through some difficulties.
“Oh, she’s okay.” Philip was concentrating on his pinball prowess, Frank doing the same with his piano. Spongeberg’s Invention #4… so difficult to get the fingering down! In other words, neither were paying much attention to what they were saying to each other. Typical. Not really feeling the other’s pain.
More dinging and clanging from Philip, more fingering from Frank. Philip was trying to beat Mouse’s high score for the month. Frank was also trying to beat a score in a way. Spongeberg’s Invention set down on paper. He feels the notes swirling before him like an angry mob, ready to leap out of the page and take over his mind, his castle, everything. 1000 points to go for Philip. 1000 notes to go for Frank. Or so.
“Listen, Frank. I wonder if you could ask the *Pooping Pigeon* up there to turn down the video feed. It’s as loud as my pinball machine and I’m standing right before it!”
“I’ll try.” Middle C, he thinks. It all revolves around Middle C.
After a couple of moments, Philip reiterates his request. But just then Mouse returns to “Earth” to test out a new resonant center he’d found in one of his many Youtube poop videos he’d saved to his various playlists. New Hampshire and Vermont, he ponders while heading down. I think I know where this is leading to!
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0304, Illinois, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, New Hampshire, NVFS, Vermont
00480303 (don’t be afraid to say the word)
I couldn’t tell whether they were talking about Vermont or New Hampshire from this distance so I had to zoom in.
Still not clear, but from my now floating lips position I did get this was all about a movement away from another state tucked even further into the northeast corner of our great country of the US of A: Maine. You could say that was the main topic of the conversation between Mouse and his greatest creation, another mouse, anthropomorphic in its case, named Pansy. We were in South America’s Amazon far removed from North because he thought he could get away from prying ears here, didn’t suspect me because I was at the resort when he arrived, let’s put it. Hired by the Gaston Berries to keep track of Mouse and his doings. More on them later maybe.
—–
“A sequence of 1 second shots,” shot back the doctor, following up on rules 34 and 35 already cited. They were exchanging ideas rapid fire on the edge of the cement pond shaped like New Hampshire or Vermont, reader’s choice from these angles.
“Yellow,” started Pansy.
“Blue,” replied the doctor.
“Green,” said the anthropomorphic rodent.
“Red!” issued the doctor named for said rodent to close the sequence.
They’d paced the words to be exactly 1 second apart, just like in the video they were referencing. TILE in summary, the ultimate poop product one could say in a vanilla not chocolate way, a different issuance.
Then the golden gloved one emerged from a static filled background at the center to tell the rest of its story.
(to be continued (?))
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0303, Amazon, Jeogeot, Maine, Nawt Vaya, New Hampshire, NVFS, Vermont
00480215
“I was hit by a bullet, Frank! Not hit by a car.”
Frank moves up behind him, stares at the image frozen on the screen too, in the exact center (again) of one of his many Youtube poop videos he’d been watching since the return. It could be that he can’t send him back down to the land of the living after all, he thinks. Mouse just keeps reappearing here; time loop. Center: something about center.
And the whole man-woman polarity he’s running away from so hard in his mind. He must embrace!
00480213
“Spongebub, what did I tell you about playing around with Weegee. *Now* look what’s happened!”
“But Squibward!” pleaded up his yellow, square Bikini Rump neighbor whose pineapple shaped home had just been destroyed by its giant nose. “We were boorrrrrrrrrrrr–
—–
–rded its ship and set sail for the sky.
—–
“What’s it spelling out now, Shelley? I mean… Lexi?”
“I think it wants us to stop.” STOP
00480205
I’m not in a position to reveal much yet but I can say I’m contemplating moving back to Nautilus, the continent I primarily called “home” starting in photo-novel 13 and ending in photo-novel 40. I’d give it a 30-70 chance of happening right this moment. I really like my place alongside the shores of Nawt Vaya — and below its waters too a bit! And Jeogeot overall has been a fine continental home for 41-47, a new era in photo-novel development as other virtual realities have come to the fore as well. But Second Lyfe is a mutable environment and you have to move around at times to recapture the magic of the place. And there definitely is magic. Just shifty — comes and goes from here and there in this gracefully aging world. Have to be aware of provided clues for relocation. I’m not completely sold yet — at all. But for the first time in a while I’m thinking about it. I can’t be in the corner this time, though. Too much abandoned land for that.
And I’d be isolated from whatever contacts I have left in the game. Moreso than ever. But that’s just the way of life these days. I’m leaving the old behind to find out what’s in the New.
Speaking of revelations, here’s a related photo, ha. Peppre Ann.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0205, Jeogeot, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Nawt Vaya, New York, NVFS, Wubbel
00480204
“Hey look, Frank. It’s me! You know, I was going to be the biggest Youtube pooper of them all. The Pooping Pigeon I was called — or going to be called. Bigger than Mickey. Pansy knows. Ask Pansy!”
“Dawg,” responded Frank Lynn, as was appropriate and desired. “What are you even *doing* here? In my castle, sitting in my chair, looking at my video feed, huh?”
“Well, I have to be here. Remember?”
“And *why*?”
“Well, okay… um.”
“Is it because that car ran you over while you were standing in the middle of the road, dawg?”
“Well…”
“Because if it is, I can fix that. We’ve already been over this. You don’t have to *die*. You don’t have to come *here*. You can still do good… in the world below. I can — fix — this.”
“Yeah, I remember you telling me that,” admitted still chair sitting Dr. Mouse, cane still pointed at his paused big Mouse head looming on the screen before him, part of a 3:33 long YouTube poop video I recently found online, ‘nother one. “But–”
“No buts. I can, let’s see, just place you back at that other 32/225 spot, where you’re just staring at that can of sody pop instead of being in the middle of the road, just waiting for things to end. Pick up the can, let’s say. Communicate with whoever is at the other end of the line. Don’t be… afraid.”
“Pick up the can, eh?” said Mouse, contemplating the proposition again, considering it more deeply this time. He *did* desire contact, mutual friendship. But who was on the other side? One way to find out.
“Okay,” he said. “Send me back.”
“On one condition, though — and we talked about this too. You have to deal with the man-woman polarity. You have to find a—”
But Mouse had already returned back to the place he was at just before he died. At that other Rodentia 32/225 spot, one sim up and left.
He picked up the can in front of him. He knew exactly where to take it next.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0204, Dokken Hollow, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, NVFS
Sunklands 