Category Archives: Maebaleia/Satori

shockers (L is for Red)

He told me to look for Green…

—–

“Alright, let’s give up the gig. *Master*.”

—–

He said to give peace a chance and that Horsa is the place. Go see Lena Horned. “She’s the complete package,” he reiterates with others.


after the gig

—–

I was back in Bellisaria. Red’s daughter, or at least the (old?) neighbors.

I decide to head west into Cowabunga. Misdirection? We’ll see.

I spotted something to the west after I entered the northeast corner of the sim. Just plain colors. I went there next…

What was it?

I see. A *witch*.

“Welcome.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0310, Bellisaria, Horsa, Maebaleia/Satori, Neat Town, Western Hills

headstone

I’m sorry to inform you, BLANK, that Red is dead. Blonde is where it’s at. Or is it Blue these days? Hard to tell — Blue from Black I mean. Because it’s definitely Blue. Unless it’s Red. Is she dead? Better check. Raise the body!

Ahh, *White*. Should’ve guessed.

—–

Red was very much alive and took White’s place over at the next plot in the graveyard that might stand in for this here photo-novel (29). She saw and felt things she didn’t like…

…. made her quiver and quake in her shoes…

… then got use to them…

… after the shock wore off.

She made peace with the grave.

She can go home again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0309, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland+

oh boy

He was paler behind the smoky glass but Duncan knew who this was. Indian Wells, part Asian part American. The 3rd wheel to complete the black and white, male and female synthesis. Because everything that was understandable needed to be read… red. It was his job (to observe). He noted the presence and moved on, later thinking how he could get the lost musician back to the other Wells. Little did he know that sister Rosie was behind the disappearance all along. They were studying him (!).

White Mage: I think I’ve changed my mind. I *will* join the new storyline.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0308, Blue Feather Sea+, Maebaleia/Satori

switchers

White Mage: I should yield to black.

There.

—–

Duncan was, of course, glad of the new assignment from the Pot-D powers that be. Which meant essentially: Buster Damm, his “boss” for several years now. Gave him his red skeleton heart medallion hung on a necklace for tracking purposes and sent him off to parts unknown, or at least for Duncan. Now he was needed again. In the briefing, he’d learned that other black people were involved in this here photo-novel. Good! “‘Bout time,” he said to the small vampire staring across from him at the VHC City bakery where they always met, no exceptions. Because it was away from the Sister sim, where Buster was banned. And Bemberg, the other sim which made up most of the rest of VHC City: off-limits as well for other reasons. Tussock it is, and no need to hide the actual name of the sim there either.

Back to the present. Tonight Duncan was asked to just roam around and take pictures of interesting looking things. Buster said he trusted his instincts by now; always seemed to know where to exactly look for clues to the current dilemma. And boy did they have one this time, Duncan thinks from his cushiony leather chair, trying not to stare over at it until absolutely necessary. The Moon. Crabwoo was back, baby. Probably Blue Feather Douglas the old TILE coot as well. Said to call him the Master toward the end. Weellll… he wasn’t going to do it (!). And neither should anyone else in this here photo-novel, especially the people… that looked like him.

He tried to remember how the man appeared in case he was in any of the photos here. He peered around and saw there were a number in this room alone, and the space base (space base?) had a good number of rooms and levels to go. He better start or else not enough sleep tonight. And he needed to be fresh in the morning because it would start all over again about 9:30 or so. “Purple Rain”: that always got him up and going. Prince of a guy, until he became not-Prince and dead at the turn of the Century. Two thousand zero zero: never made it. But, through the Pot-D Grape Vine (purple again!) he’d heard about alternate realities where he did and wore a raspberry beret through it all. Or was it just a rasp*berry*, as in a disguise. He’d have to check…

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0307, Blue Feather Sea+, Maebaleia/Satori

the sphere is the cube is the sea is the whale

She couldn’t stop playing with the Cube of Space, no matter how hard she tried. She’d given in to the urges, complacent in the moment…

—–

She always knew she’d return to (the general) Crabwoo (area). Horses — in the middle of Horsa, or at least an ass, donkeys they call them around these here Northern parts. Loaded down with flowers for the market. And where was that place? That’s what she had to find out next.

—–

She hadn’t heard good music in what seemed like ages. Yet here she was, listening to the beautiful crooning of famous Lena Horned in a cafe she just stumbled upon by accident it seemed. Rehearsals of course, else the place would obviously be packed. Another black person accompanied her to her immediate right drinking bitter wine. Zach Black — caved in to the pressure from the central government of the South. “You help her reach her highest peak pitch or else,” Jer Left Horn demanded in the alley out back of his Cass City club, brother Benny Right Horn with grease monkey wrench beating in hand next to him. A threat in other words. If nice doesn’t work then it’s back to the routine of being bullies, which they’re better at than regular diplomacy anyhoot. Horns of Hatton must be completed. A continental tour will be the warmup. And thus here she is, in the far North, ready for conquest like the British Beatles did with America. Similar. “We have to get you another hit,” said Zach Black after the alley scene was over, now understanding his position in the big scheme of things. Else: walking dead. Like Jim A. Brown before him.

The phone rings for her but is answered by another. She has a personal assistant now. Thank Gods. Time for herself at last.

“Yello?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0306, Blue Feather Sea+, Cass City+, Horsa, Maebaleia/Satori

white on black

I just *love* this music, Swanky. She’s my brother, you know.”

“Indian?” he asked.

“But American. Not Asian,” she clarified. She didn’t think. Point is, she was home, listening to her old music on her old phonograph player. All the Wells: well well well. That was an old joke she shared with Patty Spearmint, her bestie since grade school going on high school. Schneider would enjoy it too. If he were alive to hear it. All the Wells were musical, geniuses even. Rosie decided to part ways with the rest and become a scientist. Now she worked on the Crabwoo Revitalization Project or whatever the heck they’re calling it these days. Blue Feather Redevelopment Initiative — something. And she had that single eye which was different too.

They tried burying it in the front yard that day, but it just popped right back up. They had to accept her as a sister, albeit different.


Rosie at work, realizing she should have bought a telescope instead of a microscope for future research.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0304, Bellisaria, Blue Feather Sea+, Continent 02, Maebaleia/Satori

domesticity (Cotton-Tailgate Industries)

By the next spring’s fall we were married, Shelley and me, and even had a realistic looking baby to tote around by then. It was 2 months old and we still couldn’t decide on a name. We didn’t even have a sex for the kid, since those kind of things could also be chosen back in the days before severe power outages ended all that. Afterwards it was deemed best to select before birth, whilst the child was tucked safe in the womb. Sex Stealers didn’t exist then — hard to imagine now since they seem to be around every street corner, peddling their ware. Apples and bananas, that’s all it is these days. The Orangemen some called them, because that’s what each and every one of us had in common and they couldn’t touch, not even on the navel. That was our saving grace all along, although we didn’t realize it before the Big Change.

We were able to acquire a full time, realistic looking chef as well, although he had nothing to cook at the moment. I made good money at the cotton mill, since I owned it now. Part time owner. Along with Peter Cotton himself, the inventor of the world changing cottonpicker by then. Some say we worked our laborers too hard, but his likewise-wife-by-then Henrietta “Hatti” Wilson wanted it that way, said that made them sweat and glisten to her liking. She often sat outside in disguise on a bench at the front door watching them leave the mill after their shift was over and get in their cars to go home to their mostly indifferent wives. Indifference, she sometimes ponders as they all motor away from her, leaving her alone again. It will eventually destroy the Earth and perhaps its Moon along with it. But maybe at least the Moon can be saved — she’s working on it. Malyshkin. The rebirth of Crabwoo.

“Dear, dear, you’re spacing out again. That’s enough milk for today.” Indeed, as I focused and looked down, the toddler’s navel was white with overflow. Better drain a little out before bedtime or else we’ll be up all night again. Oranges and milk: who knew they were the perfect pairing. If only it would have remained that simple.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0216, Bellisaria, Blue Feather Sea+, Continent 02, Maebaleia/Satori

00290212

“The Neat Town moss people never received that big squid or octopus and so the red and white lighthouse remained on the green, no one else able to move it, not even jointly,” Kick-ass Boos recites from the top bunker again, joint still in hand, although almost small enough to require pliers. “Dwarfed, they were,” he finished.

Well that’s a nice story, thought Axis-Windmill from the lower bunk bed opposite him. But it doesn’t explain my dream where I lost my hands!

—–

Claude looked over at Paul, realizing if he bent his will there might be no leaving this place, ever. The 20000 lb. lighthouse could not be budged; time to call in reinforcements.

“Sorry I’m late.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0212, Maebaleia/Satori, Neat Town, Pennsylvania

controlled

“Awfully nice for you to come over and cook me dinner again, Alysha.”

Alysha, she thinks. *That’s* how he sees me now? “Sure, honey,” she says. “Anything for my number 1 man.” Number 10 at best she calculates to herself. She’s just that deep into it. Horns of Hatton, pheh. Manga, huh. She sprinkles spice on the meatloaf and asks him what he’s up to today, hoping the heck she wouldn’t be involved. But she does feel sorry about the hands. The Abyss will have its price, she thinks. And the Abyss is very close here. Very close indeed. About as close as that big whale circling around this treehouse.

“Business down South,” he answers from his rocking hammock. “Have to take Pricky.”

Thanks Gods, she ponders. “Oh? Big haul, then?”

“More marine life, yeah. Squid, I think. Or octopus — can’t recall right now. Anyway have to go to Cass City to pick it up; haul it up North somewhere. Meat Town I think it’s called. I’ll have to look it up on my map.”

*Neat* Town, Alysha thinks from the sink, pondering whether to add poison to the recipe to stop the whole thing. She knows why she’s here now. But not to kill him, she realizes. Instead: kiss; use her magical powers.

By the time they’d finished, Alysha had had a chance to alter the map. The whale ended up going the wrong way and never reached its intended destination. Roth wasn’t fired, but he never saw his precious, red headed Alysha again. Blonde Wanda filled the void, but Wanda couldn’t cook worth shite and had to be disposed of herself. Fed to the sharks, some say, although she actually just went back to Bombtown and eventually married a man with 3 eyes. Then came Sally. Or was it Shelley? No: Sally.

“Do you want some meatloaf on your spice tonight?” she called from the kitchen, preparing for the worse.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0211, Cass City+, Horns of Hatton+, Maebaleia/Satori, Neat Town

thief

“Axis-Windmill. You have blood on your hands that you must atone for.”

“I know.”

—–

“What happened to your hands, mister?”

Roth Voomer looked down, not even thinking about that day any more. He’s basically healed. Except for the extremities of course.

“It happens, kid. The Abyss will have its price.”

“The Abyss,” the almost submerged kid says while nodding, having learned about such things in prison school.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0210, Horns of Hatton+, Maebaleia/Satori