Category Archives: Apple’s Orchard

May 15, 2020 · 9:17 am

stamp it out

Trunk in the air, the bellowing elephant threatens to take over everything, including Jeogeot, including Nautilus — all the rest. Jett (Harry’s son) is here to stop all that, or help stop. NWES rises in importance again, a balance to Collagesity perched on a high ridge between Highways 13 and 14 over on Nautilus. The interaction between the 2 must continue. “This is not a time to move the behemoth that is Collagesity,” he speaks aloud, perhaps to himself but perhaps also to the camera he knows is upon him.

Yet the trunk is raised, the leg angled upwards, ready to squash the ideas, the dreams of the  young professor. We know he lives, however. We’ve seen him — as Young Harris — in the Weird-o islands, purchasing the lot from Messed Up who’s also just reappeared in this here photo-novel (19, once m0re: the Corona-V photo-novel as it will be called).

It’s time to bring back the late great Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer of Braynard’s Place, his Central space ready for psychiatric investigation once again. “Pardon the mess,” he might say to willing patients around him. “It’ll be fixed up by next Wednesday’s Tuesday (or something).”

Jett doesn’t pretend to know all about the doctor’s mysterious therapies, most involving tv static and constantly sipping on milk or other liquids. But he’s willing to give it a try. For the future of NWES, of Collagesity.


“I *am* the static.” *sip*

But most important now: Osseo is Oesso now in the downstairs collage.

The Club 88 explosions hadn’t happened yet. We are frozen in a slither of time about the size of a small 50 x 15 foot opening in thickly shrubbed woods. A *window*, if you will, endless in the moment.

The engines across the street remain quiet.

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May 14, 2020 · 8:15 am

NWES City

“Yes I remember now. It was called the Red Rose and I was Peter (Peet) at the time. Before the explosion that destroyed Club 88, you see, and accompanying Little Jimmy, the lesser boom. This would have been, oh, ’88 I think?”

“’98,” corrected Venus Flytrap, by his side all this time, an Ant to his Uncle. “But what about *my* place, the bar (across the street). Noodle?”

“It appears so,” Axis aka TronAxis replied. “And the battymobile was still intact,” he added, zooming into the garage of the building now. “Mr. Fix It was fixing it up.”

“Perfect,” responded Venus. “It all makes sense now. Red Rose; Marty; The Lamb/Ram fusion (Rupert). We must then inquire about Legos.”

“Later,” requested Axis. They had enough for the moment.


Marty and Harry’s son.

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May 7, 2020 · 3:44 pm

endless window

Original:

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November 23, 2019 · 5:41 pm

Charming

Well. If she’s going to be stuck out here on this peninsula isolated from the rest of NWES — turning her back on the yellow green blue red puzzle pieces that are sims, in essence — then’s she’s going to try to stay as jolly as possible. Celebrating Xmas to the hilt seemed to be the ticket. Axis help out. A lot. Most of the objects were his.

Then he added the final touch in the bedroom, the coup de grâce.  They both looked down.

Alice Frame’s skin changed over. She remembered who she was, deep down.

She turns toward her partner, her lover. “Thank you, Axis. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Wife.” It was time to show her the yarn pictures.

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November 23, 2019 · 9:34 am

on point

I look in a mirror and see myself as not quite me. Alice F. — Alice Farrowheart. Why the formalities? And Percy is right. We should talk to her together, public servant and private dick as one. We are a swell team, she realizes, standing back a bit and trying to adjust her hair the same way as in the mirror. It doesn’t quite work.

—–

“You’ll have to forgive my lack of furniture and niceties here in my apartment, fellow women! I spend a lot of time in the South — Black Drake or Black Dragon to most. The Red Umbrella (gallery) is there, of course. And some other galleries and nice shops — the place is still growing! Very exciting times here in the town. I’m looking for a reasonable apartment down there. That’s a joke — they’re *all* pretty reasonable here in this NWES city. New WES City it was originally called, you know. Named for a large burg in the past down the coast a bit. That’s where Ingor…”

“Ms. Farrowheart,” pleaded private dick Percy Pierce, tired of the babbling. Enthusiastic to talk — yes, that’s a plus. But it must be guided stream-of-consciousness. “We need to get down to the bottom of it. We’ve mentioned that woman upstairs, the one who sits in the hammock all the time.”

“Oh, she doesn’t sit there *all* the time. She has a double!”

Jodie Tanner and Percy Pierce exchange glances. “W-what do you mean: a double?” offers Tanner, daring to jump in. She quickly amends the conversation. “Mind you this is *off* the record, Alice F.. Notice I called you Alice F. there again? That’s because we’re off duty. *I’m* off duty.” She shakes her head toward Percy, acknowledging the gaff. They’re becoming one and the same more each passing day. Sharing bodies, sharing fluids. Two hearts as one.

Alice F. winds up again. “Oh she has a *belt*. I looked it up; it’s called a Great Belt. That’s the actual name of the thing. Well, she uses that belt to teleport in and around all over the place, but the belt *projects* a double still sitting up there in that hammock. With hardly a stitch of clothes on,” Alice F. complains again, rather old fashioned in those ways.

“So…,” attempts Jodie Tanner. “Kind of like, um, Wonderwoman?”

“Ahem,” piped up Percy Pierce in clearance, more aligned with the cartoon world of superheroes. “I think you may be thinking more of Batman. Or maybe Batgirl, hmm.” She turned to Alice F. “Is that what you mean, though? Some kind of talisman with, er, superpowers?”

“*No*. It’s mainly used as a toy.”

“Toy?” Jodie and Percy both exclaim.

“I’ve seen her down in Black Drake or Blake Dragon with the thing on. She *doesn’t* just sit up there in that hammock in Marwood. This is more a North-South connection. But Black is where (the belt is most powerful); more closely aligned with what it *really* is.”

“Martial arts?” attempts Jodie again. Wrongly.

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November 23, 2019 · 8:21 am

Alice F. Too

“Good evening, Ms. Tanner.”

“Good evening, er, Jack. Have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ms. Tanner.”

—–

She’s always in that hammock, Percy. In her underwear; maybe, sometimes, without any clothes atall. Not that I’m perving.”

“Sure you are,” Jodie Tanner’s sometimes lover joked. “You sit here after work is over, *pretending* you’re doing more work and you’re just perving. Sitting here spying on that poor, pitiful woman over there. Percy peers over as well from her somewhat less advantageous position in the booth. “Never moves, huh?”

“No. Not even to go to the bathroom. Not even to change clothes. I suppose she does both remotely.”

“It’s just a bot,” concluded Percy. “Marwood’s full of ’em. Have you seen the mime?”

“No, this is different,” countered Jodie Tanner.

“I don’t *think* so,” offers up a convinced Percy, matching her tone.

“Alice Farrowheart’s in the same apartment building. The Monarch Too.”

“Yeah? Your point?”

“I mentioned it to her the other day. When we were discussing the (Red Umbrella) collages — just catching up with all that (after my vacation), you know.”

“What’d she say?” Percy’s interest was perking up again.

“She didn’t say anything, which was odd. Alice F. likes to *talk*, you know. But she was strangely mute when I brought the woman up.”

“Alice F.? When did you start calling her that?”

“Oh it’s just we’ve been seeing each other so much lately. Farrowheart’s kind of a long word. So we agreed to shorten it. Alice F. she is now. When I’m off duty, of course. Alice Farrowheart, the full name, around other police people.”

Private detective Percy Pierce looked over again, trying to see more details. “Maybe — we should arrange to go see her.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” But Percy was thinking of Alice F. and not the woman.

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November 22, 2019 · 8:41 am

Moonlight Alley

Henry consulted Axis about his tattoo.

“You don’t wanna mess with the palms, man.” Henry replied gruffly while shaking his head. “I have a twin brother who lost both of ’em that way. No what you want to do is stick with the *back* of the hands. Just happens I’m running a special on what’s called a henna design. Here, I’ll show you an example of a dude I fixed up last week with the same thing.”

But Axis so so wanted the full palmistry tattoo on the face of his hands so he’d always remember which lines were which. He’ll have to look elsewhere for that later. “I don’t need to see a picture. Just do it.”

“Alright, suit yourself.” Henry rolled his stool over to the chair and began to prepare his instruments.

—–

—–

Afterwards, Axis walked over to the new Rosehaven Yarn Shop that had opened up in Baumbeer’s old building just down the street.

Several items remained from before his tragic end, including the psychiatrist booth we’ve already seen during Baker Bloch and Hucka Doobie’s visit to same, changing out “The Doctor is IN” with “The Doctor is DEAD”. And then his static filled tv with old chair positioned in front of it is still present. “A Princess sits here,” Axis coos while staring down. “Indeed she does.”

Time to go see what Lu Ellen is up to over in her secret beach house.

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October 26, 2019 · 5:40 am

Rats!

They all looked away from Rabbit 01 after he’d finished his statement, toward the evil city that had taken another child. A child psychiatrist in this case. *Functional* wee one; even worse.

“Now we’re having trouble in the Far East, even,” says Chief Nipsie Tanner, half to herself. “Better think about opening another police department over there in the boondocks.”

“Yes, Ms. Tanner,” everyone around dutifully recites, making her even more irritated. She must get away from the herd sometime soon again. Escape to the hills. Escape this — costume.

“A sewer,” speaks Tanner again, picturing it in her mind. So close to heaven yet so far.

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October 25, 2019 · 7:42 am

Gunn(s) 04

“Now I’m going to turn around,” Dr. Baumbeer declared, “and let’s see if you’ve chosen the correct chairs.”

He turns around. “Very good, all. Honestly, I thought that Gill here may be confused about the red and blue chairs, since he is both red and blue. But his *hair* is yellow, and he has correctly deduced, or you gals have helped him deduce, that that is his defining color, since it covers *both* hemispheres. And Blue Berry Girl, that naturally leaves you with the blue chair, and, likewise, you (he points to the east chair), Lu Ellen, with the red. Thank you all.”

“You’re welcome,” all mutter to one degree or another. Enthusiasm wasn’t their strongest suit tonight. Each had another motivation for being here.

“So now I’ll assume my own chair, which is the west one, the green one.” He sits down in the appropriate chair. The meeting to find True Center can come to order now.

“Now Gill, let’s start with you. How did you come to Black Dragon and what is your motivation for being here?” But Gill Alex continues to lock stares with Blue Berry Girl across the way and doesn’t answer.

“Okay, moving on then, I suppose, let’s see what you, Lu Ellen, has to say about that topic.

“I’m here to kill someone,” she spoke plainly, laying all the cards down on the table. As one, both Gill Alex and Blue Berry Girl rotate and stare at her the doctor instead.

“W-who would that be, dearest?” continued Baumbeer, starting to sweat due to all the staring.

“*You*.” Ka-POW!! POW POW!! *POP* POW!!

Meeting adjourned.

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October 24, 2019 · 2:49 pm

redtop

She was having that dream where she was looking everywhere for the correct script. Under the coke machine? Not there.

Heading down from here.

Sewers, eww! The underbelly of society itself. The discarded, the disorganized. They can go to Sh-t Hell for all she cares. Up again.

And up again.

Doors open. Her mother giving birth to her. Top of the head appears. No red hair atall. She quickly hits close.

She was looking for her father to speak to him in heaven, for surely that’s where he is. Being a martyr to the cause and all. But there was no door to heaven on this elevator. Only the red place.

She had missed the portal. At the end of the sewer where you have to wade through the most sh-t to get to. The highest is found in the lowest.

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