Category Archives: Jeogeot

00450610

Being a poor student at the local public university majoring in psychology, Peter Melanchton often came down here to the roadside ramen shop to get a free hot meal. But he had another reason to sit on this rock and eat his noodles: Shelley Johnston (Johnson?) Struthers, seen here running into that tunnel again. He often daydreamed that she was his girlfriend, and that they would run together through the whole of the Nawt Vaya inland sea, rain or shine.

Today Lexi joined him, and then, after Shelley passed into the tunnel, gave him a good lecture about stalking young girls even though she was actually doing the same here. Hypocrite, then: just wanting to eliminate the competition. Edward was enough. No need for another pretty faced *boy* to enter the picture.

Sufficiently spooked, Peter doubled down on his studies and eventually graduated Summa cum laude from Nawt Vaya State, which means peak of his class. Doing some modelling on the side sufficed to cover the cost of food and amenities after that, no need for free. Too tempting down on that rock overlooking the tunnel entrance. Didn’t want to get a reputation, maybe even attracting the attention of the local police force. All elements of Lexi’s lecture.

—–

Later, Lexi met Philip at the local Slurpies and started bragging about the deed. Philip checked in his red book and saw this had indeed happened but 2 weeks ago. Lexi must have skipped a chapter or two, he figured. He tells her she’s late and that she needs to recalibrate her internal clock. Just then the school bells rang (dong… dong!), signaling graduation of the 2024 class where Peter just gave his Summa cum laude speech. What is happening to time??

(to be continued)

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00450608

“Lester, can you hear me, Lester? I’m seeing 6’s and 9’s, just like back in grade school. Where am I, Lester?”

“Oh God, Lester! I’m falling!! Falling into a pit, AHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” Splatt.

“Oh. That wasn’t so bad.” And Philip wakes up fully on his cushioning bed and remembers that he and Lexi have an important meeting with Princess Pinky Gumm at 10:15 over in Juho. Better not be late.

(to be continued)

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00450604

I never left The Sphere.

I’m still in Holland!

Philip wakes up.

—–

“I have a surprise for you today, Philip,” spoke Lexi at the breakfast table set up between their two bedrooms on the upper level of her Nawt Vaya house. “I think you’ll like it.”

—–

“Holland?”

“Yeah, you said you missed Amsterdam. So: here we are (!).”

“I said I *missed* Amsterdam. As in bypassed it, or at least skirted it. I think.”

“Well… now you have a kind of second chance. A Second Lyfe second chance. We’ll start at the northwest corner here and make our way across. Just like old times.”

“Hmmm.”

“You… don’t like it?”

Yeah. Why not, he thinks. And they head toward the center of the mocked up, 2 sim city where Lexi has another bright idea.

“Let’s get bikes, Philip (!). Like that guy over there.”

—–

Riiing riiing. “Out of our way! LOSERS.”

(to be continued)

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00450603

Persimmon. A seed that grew into a tree. A tree whittled down to make a club. Woods (Tiger).

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wood_(golf)

Woods are so called because, traditionally, they had a club head that was made from hardwood, generally persimmon,[1] but modern clubs have heads made from metal, for example titanium, or composite materials, such as carbon fiber

Persimmon can also be whittled down to >sim< (Juho). Or in this case, visa versa.

In another, completely different game, a Woodman working for Tyger (Claws (gang)) with an actual last name of Forrest.

https://cyberpunk.fandom.com/wiki/Oswald_Forrest

Just some random, scattered association, but maybe soon to be more.

https://golfweek.usatoday.com/story/sports/golf/2014/08/20/tiger-woods-golf-equipment-nike-golf-irons/76971654007/

Woods: I’m part of the older generation that grew up playing with balata balls, and part of the last generation that played persimmon.

(to be continued?)

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00450602

Just as she was watching someone, someone was watching her.

But she didn’t care. Currently she was spying on what she called The One from the branch of a park tree with Philip, certainly a detour from the town tour she promised. “*Edward*,” she spat out with some vile. “He’s suppose to be forbidden here. She’s *married*, hmph.”

“Lexi, I hate to bring it up but you promised me and Gus that meeting with Frank.”

“Oh Frank can go -f-ck himself,” she rudely declared.

“Oh. Okay.” Philip looked at Gus on his shoulder who, wide-eyed as always through the burning, just peered back wordlessly. Hard to tell if the little fire demon was shocked at the language or not.

“Soooo… who is this again?”

But Lexi suddenly became even more preoccupied. “They better not, no they better not, no no no no NO.” Shelley and Edward looked up from their attempted kiss and scanned the environment, trying to locate the source of the call. But they were deep enough in the foliage not to be spotted. The moment, however, seemed to be ruined. Good, thought Lexi, realizing the same. They’re wrapping things up, it seems, and Edward will go his own way and Shelley her’s.

“So, who’s this couple, then?” Philip tries again, watching them get up off the bench and start moving away from each other. “Edward, you said?”

“And *Shelley*. Yeah, run your cute little ass all the way home, you bitch of a girl. You temptress.”

Philip started to come around to the idea that Lexi and he would maybe be staying together but they wouldn’t be sleeping together. Not in that way. Because this obsession revealed a shells on the other side of the beach scenario. Shells as in Shelley.

“Time to go,” she then said, starting to make her way off the branch and into the park below. Philip followed suit, being careful not to spill Gus in the process. But she wasn’t quite done with Shelley today in April’s May.

“There she goes, Philip. Back into the Tunnel of Love.”

What does *that* mean, Philip thought, but didn’t ask this time. They’d been delayed long enough.

(to be continued)

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00450601

He came back to Nawt Vaya and the Jeogeot continent of Our Second Lyfe a changed man. No more monkeying around again. He read in the red book up to the present. Retrieved the fire demon formerly named Calcifer but now called Gus from the netherworld known as The Netherlands, check. Walked out of Vijlen and toward the Vaalserberg mountain that is the highest of that realm and just winked out. Manifested here. Sitting in front of Gus, now trying to communicate with the little flamey guy. Happened once before. He puts down the book. “Didn’t it, pal?”

“Frank,” it squeaked in reply, which it’d said previously. And like before, Philip waited for more which never came. “Frank, eh?” he finally said. The fire demon seemed to nod a little to this with his burny head that was also his body but that’s all. No more words for a while.

“I know who he’s talking about,” spoke propped up Lexi from behind the counter, tired from a full day’s work and needing a break. Coffee’s run out anyway, so’s the food. Only cigarettes and other burny things left. Nada New Year also at the counter had to settle for spicy gum, which she was about to pop when I took the above photo. Later she added more spice to the picture.

“Well,” said Philip Strevor. “Speak your truths, woman… girl. Tell me who this Frank is, where he is. Is he fictional or fact? Does he dwell in a house or apartment like the rest of us or is his abode that of the mind and that alone?”

“Oh he’s real,” perked up Lexi. “Came here with him, this Juho.”

“Juho?” So Philip had a name for the place now. And perhaps a name for at least one of the residents. He wanted more.

“What’s *your* name?” So Lexi told him. “And that’s Nada over there chewing away at the only nutrition I could provide at this late hour,” she added. “I’m glad you yourself are enjoying your cigarette.”

“*Gus* is enjoying the cigarette,” said Philip. “Helps keep him lit. Isn’t that right Gus?” No answer. “But pray tell, putting the caboose back on the track, where do I find this Frank if he’s real? Does he also exist in this Juho you’ve illuminated the name for? Perhaps he even lives with you.”

“I’ll take you there,” said Lexi to this, shaking off the living together part. “Quitting time in, let’s see (she checks her watch not on her arm, actually relying on an internal clock), 15 minutes. Nada, you’ll have to take what’s left of your gum and clear out too.” Nada nods in understanding. But not before doing a dance called the Johana.

20 minutes later:

“We’ll pass through Juho proper on the way over to Frank’s. I assume you’re staying a while. Got a place to live yet?”

“Well… I…”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll stay with me. One more question. What are you reading? What’s in the red book that has you so fascinated?”

“Well… *this*.” They reach a playground on the outskirts of town which Philip remembered from section 04.

He couldn’t resist recreating history. “Here, take Gus for a minute if you don’t mind.”

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00450416 (a new high and low of it all 02)

He’d manifested it from below but he didn’t know what laid inside yet. The 420 attached to the outside that had rezzed in in the meantime seemed to be a type of warning. Frank lies within, the dismantler and then rearranger of Carrcassonnee to turn her into this sign. It had happened before, he knew. On her 420th birthday, now 4 years in the past. Time enough to turn the tables of power. He had the eye, the top of the pyramid, all seeing of course. Like Carrcassonnee *use* to be when she possessed it instead. Frank was after the eye all along, eye on the prize as it were. But what about Gus the fire demon caretaker which also must be present within in order for the giant moving castle to appear here in the first place? Time to find out. He looks for a door.

Yes, just on the other side here. He enters.

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00450414 (a new high and low of it all)

Welp, there she goes again, thinks Newt, sipping on a recently procured nice cool lemonade drink courtesy of a boy named Bart. Back into the tunnel. Guess I better get back to the home base myself, start working on that skybox and maybe the rezzing of that larger version of Howl’s Moving Castle I have in my inventory. Must not forget the Yellow Guy. Or the Red Man or the Green Dude or the Blue Boy for that matter. “Frank’s Moving Mountain” which is kind of the same as “Howl’s Moving Castle” is a way to keep moving forward on that subject.

—–

On Wheeler’s (Shelley’s) part, when she’d finished with her jog, she went to visit the bar that inspired her own over at Conejo Island, which she hadn’t returned to in a while.

Things seemed different. Curious. She copies all copyable objects and brings them back home again to roost.

—–

“Yes!” she says to the bar underwater.

“Yes!” he exclaims to the castle in the sky.

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00450413 (We are here (!))

Jeogeot’s only true inland sea. I’m not sure why I haven’t focused on it before, hmmm. It’s time has come I guess I’ll say presently to that thought.

Still in their matching Mr. Moon t-shirts, joint owners Newt and Wheeler ponder the meaning of milk and bread at the new location of Crooked. The TILE Manifesto is about to be studied in earnest, I feel.

A remaining question to be answered: will Wheeler’s Bulls Bar return at the place pictured above? It seems to be destiny in a way. The objects making up the bar are shared by Baker Bloch (Newt) and Wheeler, which makes it harder to store and transfer to a new location. The outside remains unfinished: just giant white and red cubes stuck together. Probably should just ditch it; go with interior alone. Especially since it’s such a scenic setting here.

part 2: parents

“Hey Newt?”

“Yes Wilson, er, Wheeler?”

“We need…”

“… to talk about Shelley, I know.” Pause. “Let’s let her finish her run first. There she is. Go Shelley!”

“Thanks!” she acknowledges through the transparent tunnel walls while continuing to motor along.

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00450412

“Susan was a goner, Fink. You essentially killed her with your attack at the beach. But you were only defending Jack, who would have gotten killed himself if you hadn’t intervened. If *Fern* hadn’t intervened. You first saw him — remember? — across Susan’s sprawled out body, his green matching your flesh, his square matching your round.”

“I remember,” said Fink. “I– didn’t mean to kill her.”

“*Told* you to control that freak-ish green arm better,” reprimanded Jack, then felt bad about it. “I mean, I guess you were defending me and all still.”

“I *was*.”

“*Anyway*,” said Princess Pinky Gumm, “I knew her essence could be put to better use than keeping her alive for another day or three at best until she succumbed to those obviously fatal injuries. So I used that energy, that essence to heal myself. Remember? I was possessed by The Lich. *I* wasn’t going to get any better.” Better her than me, Princess Pinky Gumm thought but didn’t say aloud. Was she 100% sure Susan wouldn’t recover? Actually: no. She had been selfish. Susan was a renegade cyborg killer, programming triggered by an electrical shock from a giant Acid River eel. But maybe, just maybe, she would have recovered. But that left the killer part intact still, she tried to rationalize. Yes, better her than me (for death), she reinforced to herself.

“How?” says Fink.

“I’m both a physicist and psychic trained at world esteemed Cal State, Fink. The answer would be too complicated for your meager brain to comprehend. Given you just made an F minus on what I would consider the easiest test on Earth.” Princess… Pink(y)… Gum(m), she reviews the glaringly obvious three-parter, and looks over at his blank, human face. So typical. At least fellow human Susan had killer written all over hers. After the eel. Kill or be killed, she thought once more. Yes, her complicated arrangement of physical-psychical interactions used for the transfer were justified.

(to be continued)

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