“Investigating a murder, ma’am. Blue Moon Kentucky. Know anything? A-bout it?”
“My Son!” she cried upon seeing him beam in on a ray of light. “Come back to me.”
“No ma’am. Not your Son. Or your Sun for that matter if that’s what you meant. Despite the beam and ray thing going on here beneath me.” But then he thought again. Clue!
Barry De Boy wakes up, immediately googles “Elvis Esley”. Or was it Isley?
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0506, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, SG Park
“I’m going to rub than d-mn coffin right out of the painting, that’s what I’m going to do, hmm-mm-mm.”
“Paw?”
Andy twirls away from the flawed painting Uncle Herbert gave him as a wedding gift for his first marriage and toward his son from that marriage, trying to block his vision of what he was doing to it with his body as best as possible.
“Opie, what’re you doing out of bed?” Andy says in a harsher tone than normal, which of course Opie, being the sensitive child he is, picks up on. Something’s wrong, he senses.
“I-I just wanted some milk. And maybe cookies (!)” Should have been a laugh track there, Barry De Boy thinks from the couch, also understanding something’s wrong.
“Milk milk milk, okay okay okay,” Andy says while rushing over to corral his son and herd him toward the kitchen. “And then right straight back to bed. Do you realize what time it is?”
—–
After making sure Opie is good and tucked in again, Andy returns to the painting. But his rubbing has made the child’s coffin even *more* visible to his complete exasperation, uncovering additional layers of paint. “What the–” he says while staring at it, and then instinctively glances over his shoulder to make sure Opie didn’t come back down again. “That’s it that’s it, wedding gift or no, this painting’s got to *go*,” and he grabs it with both hands, intending to take it out to the squad car parked in the driveway and dispose of it in the dumpster behind Floyd’s first thing in the morning, before he even goes into the office. He’s just that determined — suddenly — to be done with the thing. Uncle Herbert hadn’t visited in months after all. But Aunt Bee, he thinks. Herbert was her favorite brother. She’ll notice, she’ll be upset; won’t let off until he puts the painting he gave us back up above the mantelpiece, pheh.
There’s another way, he realizes. Who can change a painting but a *painter*. “Barry De Boy,” he says aloud, probably to the camera.
“Barry De Boy??” Barry utters too. He looks down at the red tie, wakes up.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0501, Jeogeot, Mayberry, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
“Prince Julian of Droop?!”
—–
“Someone had to take care of him, hubby of mine. Or her. I think it was meant to be us. A family. You, me, er (she points), it!”
“I don’t blame them for shedding all that hair on occasion, spoke Newt to on again off again mate Wheeler, back in their matching Mr. Moon t-shirts for the occasion. “General rated sim here but what can you do.”
“Make sure no one can see in. Make it private even. Plus (she gazes), they have hair underneath their hair. Whatever that means.”
“It means they’re *special*.” 2n1, both understood.
He turns toward the interior. “Now where were we?”
“Summoning a spirit. On that ottoman over there.”
“Oh yeah.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0416, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
Rockstahr, Philip thinks while staring at the red green blue yellow lines again. Gotta find the origin. Who is this madman behind it all? Across the water?
“Whaddaya think, Frank?” he said after the story was over, still staring across the Nawt Vaya waters that had replaced the Alamo Sea waters in their now smaller, less broad virtual existences. “Little Heaven? Little Hell?”
“Might be,” he said, reminiscing in his own way about Redd. And that darn cat of a man she spoke about. She/he knew so much!
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0415, GTA, GTA old, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
“I know this is not the ideal location,” started Newt in earnest.
Oh God, thinks Wheeler. This is leading to a baad place.
“But we kept crashing out of the nicer restaurants in Juho and I wanted to set up *something* for you, something pretty quick.”
Here we go, thinks Wheeler.
“Stand up, please.”
“O-kay.” And then Newt gets out of his own chair and kneels.
“Wheeler Malone Wilson. Will you marry me? Again?”
Again? thinks Wheeler. Riiiight.
But she did end up allowing him a kiss on the lips, which pleased him very much indeed. As consolation. The one time would have to do.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0409, Juho, Nautilus, Nawt Vaya+, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra
I took another day off to explore the town more. I’d taken a lot of days off lately. Perhaps I was already pretty bored with the mayor’s job, I don’t know. I found myself wandering… and wondering. Here I sit in Downtown’s subway station watching a train that never stops. Where is it going? Where’s it been? Never here apparently, or never gathered people here or dropped them off. I move on…
… to an abandoned petrol station, wandering and then wondering about the name Clyde on the window over there behind the tires. I knew the town was formerly called Blue Ball or Blue Balls so that didn’t seem to fit, despite the name Clyde being applied to a lot of towns across our fair country of America back in the day. Like one in Ohio where famed American author Sherwood Anderson grew up, along with U.S. independently affiliated senator and so-called father of the TVA George Norris and a couple of other famous people, including a Civil War Union general I can’t recall the name of.
I know, I’ll go ask Charlene. But maybe Emily would be a better target, having been here in The Burg longer. What’s her story, why did she move off the Makah Indian Reservation after being raised there? Something about Wolvie? — probably something about Wolvie. So that ropes in Charlene who’s the sister of what clearly is a shapeshifter in this here town, probably a werewolf by the sound of it. And he recognized me (!). In that service station with the black and white wolf poster over in Juho. I wonder how Newt is doing over there (her thoughts deflect). I wonder if he’s done anything with Newtonia since I’ve been… away.
That graffiti artist over yonder (she triangulates between useless subway and abandoned petrol station, a right one it appears). Maybe they will know something about Clyde. Worth a try.
She approaches, notices the cigarette in both his mouth and spraying hand at once. James Smoker he quickly becomes in her mind. Until she learns the truth.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0405, Jeogeot, Juho, Nawt Vaya+, Ohio, The Burg+, Washington
Wheeler started to sit down beside Charlene and Emily in back but Willa Brown Halter instead waved her up front. She didn’t want the newly minted mayor to be seen with a *Downtown* Brown, hmph. Besides, she was up next. After Wolvie’s sentencing was over.
“What happened Madam Mayor?” Willa asked about her delay after she sat down beside her.
“Well, we fell in a plot hole,” Wheeler started another prepared joke. “Did I say plot hole? *Pot* hole I meant, as in one of Builder Bob’s diggings.” She glanced at him in the next bench over with his pipe still on shoulder.
“Funny,” said Willa. “But you’ve actually stumbled into your subject matter for the day. Infrastructure.” Funny indeed.
Then at the main stage:
“So,” said Judge Tronesisia (hi Tronesisia!). “You’re telling me, with your *bigfoot* costume on right now which you were caught in, that you didn’t put on this same costume and walk perpendicular through the Nawt Vaya tunnel walls while you also photographed yourself doing the same?”
“That’s right, my liege.”
“We have the photograph, I’ll remind you. *Proof*.”
No answer.
“Last chance to plead guilty,” warned Tronesisia.
Wolvie kept silent. As was his plan all along.
“What gives?” whispered Wheeler to Willa in the pause.
“Oh, this will wrap up soon enough,” Willa dismissed the whole hearing. “Just some *Downtowner* caught with his pants down again, ha.”
“Then I have no choice but to sentence you to *3 years*…” Gasps all around.
“… probationary work,” finished the judge, making another juicy dangler. Sighs all around now. Everyone seemed to like Wolvie and didn’t want any lengthy imprisonment to befall him. He was just trying to help out his kind, most thought. “You’ll tell kids about bigfoot,” Tronesisia further decreed, “maybe even participate in that film your sister Charlene The Punk Brown is making deriding the subject.” Charlene gives the judge a thumbs up from the back, just as happy as Willa was disappointed. Pants down, the latter thinks. Downtowner! How could they ignore the facts!
Wolvie leaves the courthouse room pants head down. But it was all play. He dare not look at the smile on his sister’s face lest he break out a big one too.
“Okay, Wheeler,” urged Willa. “You’re up. Get over there before the townspeople and belt out your plan to fix *infrastructure*.” Bob was so excited about the topic that he shifted his pipe from left to right shoulder. No more fun with holes, he thought punnily. Funds *for*.
“Aheemm,” she begins nervously, eyeing expectant Bob with his 12 foot pipe. “This is what I have in mind.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0317, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, South Lake, The Burg+
She thought she’d go back to the beginning of the road, where she started her story in this here Burg of the general Nawt Vaya region of the Jeogeot continent of the Western Hemisphere of virtual Our Second Lyfe. A call, I believe. No, perhaps a calling, as in a profession. She was always bright, super bright in fact. The unusual drew her attention. Cryptozoology was eventually the chosen study. She’d be a professor, occasionally publish articles and present papers and have a rather easy life of it as more a skeptic on the subject than a believer per common public opinion. Then the call — yes, a call was also involved, as in phone. Someone dialed all the numbers except 4, which would instead connect you to The Moon. “Hallo?” she said from her faculty desk next to the faculty lounge whose thin walls enabled her to keep up with all the local faculty gossip. Dr. Brown dating Dr. Green to the chagrin of Dr. Blue? All in a day’s listening.
“It’s me. Wolvie.”
“*Wolvie*. You old dog. Hadn’t heard from you since–”
“Lester’s Bay, I know. I ran away, sorry.”
“You ran away as a *dog*. Dude, what gives?”
“I’m… not who I seem.”
“I *gathered*.”
“Anyway. Charlene. I need some help. Something in your department.”
“Tell me about it, bro of mine.” She knew it was one of those loose ends in her life that eventually had to be tied up. Her own flesh and blood brother a shapeshifter! But academia called and she put such psychic phenomena out of her mind. She had grades to worry about, peer pressure, etc. She was young in her position, with tenure a fur piece down the road.
“Bigfoot,” he just blurted the name out, which he knew would catch her attention. “Sighted in your vicinity.”
Her vicinity, let’s see. Yes I guess this would have to be Nawt Vaya State University, then, hmm. Interesting. Perhaps a strong Psychics department. Or maybe that’s Physics. Anyway, the link had been made, the one between Charlene and Wolvie her brother, not Psychics and Physics. Although maybe that fits in too.
“Give me a location,” she cited rather mechanically, more a professor’s standard tone in this dog eat dog world of general college academia, especially for a female professor who, by default, had more to prove.
He did more than that. He sent her a picture. “Bigfoot!” she cried aloud, giving Dr. Black a start from his faculty lounge chair just beyond the wall. “So it’s real.” And just down the road from her in that Nawt Vaya underwater tunnel, she observed.
She understandably took the rest of the day off to investigate. Which eventually landed her on the doorstep of Roberts and Franklin in one of those 2 locations shown before, just as Wolvie planned. Charlene would do the choosing for him, as it turned out. Should have seen it coming.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0313, Jeogeot, Juho, Nawt Vaya+, South Lake, The Burg+
“There she is, Emily. The new mayor.”
“*Not* the same as the old mayor,” replied Emily, trying not to look behind her. It was hard. And what was all that butterfly, um, *gear* she was wearing? But it was just all part of her power. She couldn’t help asking aloud, though. She leans over, and says not far above a whisper: “Butterflies?”
“All part of the power; perks of the job,” responded Charlene. Knew it.
“Who would *want* that?” Still leaning, still just above a whisper.
“I hear ya. But…” she decides to say since they were leaning in to each other, being more secretive. “What about Wolvie?”
“What *about* Wolvie?” Emily says.
“You know, because he’s, ahem, the mayor’s son. Like I’m the mayor’s daughter. *Old* mayor. And *Shelley*.”
“Shelley’s not in this story,” shot back Emily New Moon, tired of hearing about the old. New is the thing now. And Wheeler fits right in, she thinks. She’s tired of the mother-daughter-son talk, the Unholy Triangle. Speaking of which…
—–
“I wish, Edward, that you’d be more sympathetic to my plight. I’m *married*.” Edward, her Ed, was in danger of fading away himself under her new butterfly power and he knew it. Wheeler had to disappear in order for him to even been seen atall in this setting. He had no other choice than to wait in the background, biding his time. At the backwards flowing waterfall.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0312, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, South Lake, The Burg+
It was like the old days for Wolvie (=Bert), staring at bamboo from the perfect spot 108 108 108, triply beautiful. Not Shelley any more doing her moves on the bamboo yoga mat but Wheeler, mother having reabsorbed the child in section one of this here current photo-novel, just this morning named for her. He’d seen her again last week at the convenience store he manages over near Juho. She knew that he knew and he knew that she knew. Then: winked out. Gone. Like she was never there. And perhaps she wasn’t (*knew* I was going to add that, didn’t you).
—–
“Wolvie’s gone. VHS tape still in there. Let’s just look at it. I want to know why Blue Moon wants to buy all existing copies so bad. How, aherm, *bad* could it be?”
“Double anal?” guessed Emily who didn’t even know if that was a thing. And I suppose she’d know, since she runs the store. So let’s say she was jesting.
“Could be at least double, as in 3some,” speculated Charlene further. Charlene the Punk. Not seen in these here photo-novels since (as I’m checking… checking…) 31 really, minus a cameo appearance or two. Pre-retirement, then. But we also know that Charlene is actually Fern in the past. Or another timeline — something. The two can be lined up and made as one is what I’m saying. If that, once more, is actually a “thing”.
They both crowded into the tiny viewing room meant for one, setting aside the chair to make space. Plus… well, neither wanted to sit in that chair now.
“It’s just static,” Charlene complained.
“Keep looking,” urged Emily, knowing secondary and then primary letters would form out of the nothingness. Because this was a special tape, very much so. I to E to T to L and done. You get your money’s worth.
“Yes, here they come.”
(to be continued)
Sunklands 