Category Archives: Nautilus

July 5, 2022 · 3:56 pm

in a name

Arthur Kill teleported over to Monty and the former location of his new-ish girlfriend Tessa’s motel, now abandoned or “razed” as she lastly put it. Thus the need for her castle, she said, more lies but twisted ones with knots of truth along the way. No indication of the previous owner’s name he was looking for in the land description, pheh. He decides he needs to kill someone later today to let off steam from this failure, perhaps that butcher over in nearby Bouncer who chose to bed down with a prostitute for a wife. Fits his (new-ish) code, Blue Rose style.

But then, below him in a corner of the parcel: a *blue ball*. Success? Will the former owner’s true name be revealed through this trace left behind.

When he flies down to its seeming location in the corner of the abandoned land he was investigating: nothing, though. Then he sees it again, one parcel over and considerably tinier. Impossibility!

That’s when he realized it was attached to *him*. “Radar,” he cussed, which is the same thing both backwards and forwards. Doesn’t matter where he goes, there he is. DELETE Not any more. But who had been tracking him in the meantime? Tessa? Butcher? Prostitute/wife even? Better get back to hq (castle) and make his report. Funny that the object was also owned by someone named simply “castle” according to the description. Probably a connection, then, he thought. But he didn’t want to follow that lead too far, didn’t want to color his report until he could catchup with the proceedings. He also decides to temporarily delete the blue rose in his lapel just in case. He can always retrieve it from his inventory later. Nope, he then thinks. Better delete it from there as well. I’ll ask [delete name] for another one. Good ol’ [delete name], he thinks, originator of the [delete name] team that investigates [delete actions]. He’s been meaning to [delete action] him as well. This will give him the chance — two birds with one stone, ha — after he gets the object he wants. Not *needs*: *wants*.”

(to be continued)

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July 5, 2022 · 8:27 am

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She came across him studying the one fully in Corrigan and not split between that sim and Pixy (Pixy!). Eddy and his blue ball, she thought. He’s finally found it.

“So Eddy knows you’re here,” he asked after she spoke a while. His Eddy, her Edward.

“Yeah. Met him recently. We’ve been…”

“… traveling. Me too. Stayed in a place over on the Jeogeot continent called Towerboro — believe it was part of now extinct Middletown at one time.”

“Cool.” Of course everyone had heard of Middletown. It was taught in all the schools, young middle old alike. Middletown was legendary, like Atlantis.

“Interesting people,” he continued. “A woman who plays nifty tricks with cards for one,” he says, the memory of that night and her talent with fingers producing a smile on his (one pink) lips. “And then another person, a guy, who was psychic, who was always pointing at something and predicting things that were going to happen. The two knew each other.” He turned to face his 3rd cousin, 1 in a set of 3 and not a 1st cousin twice more removed; I can say this fairly confidently because they were about the same age. “And he went by different names, first Kactus, then Donald, then the last… the last…” He searches his memory for the name that Tessie then provides for him.

“Freddie,” she said. Remarkably, she had had her own encounter with him during a recent trip to Dub’s Jungle (or thereabouts), and from what Edward, her Eddy, described it must have been the same person. Pointing, predicting, like an Oracle. “‘Blackbart’, he said, indicating an empty space in the sea that soon was filled with a flying boat, a sporty one as far away from a sailboat as you could possibly get.”

“‘Blackjack’ for me.” Her Edward became the same as our Edward, identical cousins all around.

“Ever heard of the expression, ‘peeling a lemon’?” she then asked everyone involved.

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July 3, 2022 · 9:43 am

Table Room (cutting down to size)

“Take *that*… *pixy*. Think you can come onto *my* territory and steal –”

“What’s ya doing?” Baker Bloch walking in. Wheeler thought he was out exploring Nautilus this afternoon per usual. No: staying home instead; hanging out in another tower of the castle, unseen until now. “Rain,” he rationalized to Wheeler after catching her by surprise. Pixy! He makes a note to check that out later. “In the forecast all day,” he says without sitting. Better to stand at this awkward moment for a quicker escape.

“And the rumblings, yeah,” she said, also seeing the occasional lightning in the air and trying to keep confidence in her voice. A rare off day for Our Second Lyfe. She shouldn’t have taken the risk. Now she has to explain.

“Sooo. Who’s this again? Pixley was it (internal snicker)?”

—-

A *rival*, he pondered later, returning to his tower-for-the-day. Something to do with Greenleaf, she said. The rock village. Pretty eyes, though. And I guess the rest was built around that. Nice something else as well. Said she came from a magical place called Pettry Bottom, not far from Red Dragon that is the same as Blue Pennant in the past. Must have something to do with Helen, then. And 3.16, she said. The *others* are gaining power. What *others*?

“I took her over to smaller Hooterville out of the big city glare and then beat the pulp out of her,” she also excused herself, buying into my joke and eating an orange. Hmmm.

In retrospect I think of Baker Blinker and what happened to her via Karoz, history sort of repeating itself.

Wheeler remains a force to be reckoned with. “Pixley” knows that now. Might as well pit a top-of-her-game Tina Louise against a wannabe Mary Ann Summers. Relevant.

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July 2, 2022 · 3:05 pm

Land o’ TILE (telescope)

“I rest my fingers lightly against the bird house while peering inside.

“A red appears, with blue and yellow in background.

“Earlier I had posed on green.

“And that’s my report for today, Baker Bloch. Can I go now? Borneo awaits.”

“Sure.”

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July 1, 2022 · 8:26 am

the problem with toys (whiches)

“Let’s split this crazytown,” said Red to his cousin Grassy as they crossed the tracks and drove away from the scene…

… at the same time they just arrived.

“Whatup guys?” the amalgamation of figures in the center said in greeting, not knowing the difference.

—–

“No I’m not putting up with that,” she doubled down, remembering the spectacle from the future.

“(The situation will) clear up; get better,” countered Baker. “First try.” After a pause: “We could simply *ask* Grassy about it.”

Wheeler was thinking the same thing. Red was about to change over to green.

—–

“Aloha!” he said, garish Hawaiian shorts thankfully hidden by the table. He immediately starts staring at the book, the hand.

“Welcome back Grassy,” relented Wheeler. She looks over at Baker. She knew she would be called Flip at these meetings from now on as compensation. Or win a wrestling trip to fabled Muff-Birmingham in the far corners of space, whichever door she so chooses. She opens the door of the refrigerator to see which one.

“Coke, Grassy?” she called over while grabbing, but Grassy was no longer there. Sprite instead.

Several of them, in fact. “Here we are!” said the seeming leader of the three.

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June 30, 2022 · 9:39 am

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“Two toy avatars, one advanced — novel 8 — beyond his origins to become truly human and all the advantages and disadvantages involved. The other remained a base, a root. No evolution, for good or bad. This is of course our Grassy.”

“Who I’ve banned from The Table.” She looks around, sees Newt beside her, observes Baker Bloch across from her. “I love Grassy like a green son…”

“I know, I remember — novel 8 as well.”

“But the blue moved on, *up* to me. My height and beyond. Grassy is so small, especially if you take away his outer, delicious, candy coated shell.”

“Like a turtle,” Baker Bloch added.

“He has Hawaiian shorts. Embarrassing, actually.”

“He’s so sweet (though).” Baker makes a pouty face. “Reconsider?”

Wheeler reaches back into her own refrigerator to match Baker Bloch’s for more ice for her drink — a Russian Roulette I believe, courtesy of the ever inventive Marty, way back in ’65 for this one I recollect, along with an embryonic version of “Back in the USSR,” which had just been playing actually. Maybe prompted Wheeler to make the drink in the first place — most likely did as I think of it. I’m catching up (with red).

Plop plop. “No.”

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June 29, 2022 · 4:55 am

on a line 02

“Are you about finished, Wheeler? We really need to get back to the castle.”

“Just a minute…”

—–

“You know what the Silver Surfer represents? Don’t you?”

“Blue Mountain. No Ashville,” she replies. “I could see it in his eye.”

“We’ll have to take it into the woods, give it a home there. Tomorrow perhaps. One Strange Rock.”

“*If*… it is even the rock you’re thinking of.”

“It is. I think.”

“And Linesboro (!). Like I’m on. Wonderful. Half legal half illegal; black and white. Much more to ponder there.”

“The monkey is naked but is it okay or is it not okay?”

“Time will tell.”

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June 27, 2022 · 7:41 am

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“Now I think it’s logical that I keep the seat here next to the refrigerator, because of my little bambinos I have to fuss with all the time — pouring milk over them to turn them into lattes, icing the lattes, so on.”

“Here we go,” muttered Wheeler Wilson across from him, who had already requested to be addressed by a new name: Flip Bean. She flipped her hair lightly when saying this. Baker nodded. It was done. On to round two.

“Welll?” Baker wanted a likewise response from across the table. Wheeler has her name, he will have his fridge.

“Fiiine. And another request while we’re on the subject. Axis here is not Axis any more. He’s Newt. He won’t even answer to Axis any longer.” She turns toward him. “Will you Newt?”

Newt thinks about not replying for a joke but then decides against it. Wheeler, I mean, *Flip* is pretty serious when she sits down to the table here. Down to business as they say. “No,” he says.

“Good. So it’s settled. New names for us, and a refrigerator for coffee boy over there. Anything else? I have some hiking in the Himalayas to get back to.”

“Well… I…”

“Grassy,” Wheeler Flip guessed about Baker’s next topic. “Took his seat away. Not needed right now.”

Baker Bloch could see his seat next to Flip’s clear as day. “Toys must be represented,” he kept firm. “Besides…”

“… there’s a chair already there?” Flip guessed correctly again. “In my reality there isn’t. We agree to disagree about that.”

“Okay,” Baker began again. “How about this. I keep calling you Wheeler in these here meetings, and the toy will be banned from same — toys in general.”

“Explain,” she asked. This was the final decision, she realized. Then it was off to meet Stan in Timbuktu to conquer K-2 again. Good ol’ Stan. And Axis doesn’t mind since he’s Newt now. He’s completely under her control.

“I… just can’t get use to calling you anything but Wheeler. And our one or two other readers would appreciate the continuity as well I’m assuming.”

Flip answers by rattling the ice around in her water, melting fast. “*I* want a refrigerator too, then. I have needs as well: wine, liquor, tea. A fridge back there behind me and I’ll be Wheeler, he’ll be Newt (still), and Grass(y) will be out on his ass. Deal?” She leaned over the table, extending her arm for a shake. Baker thinks about quickly reaching into his fridge and handing her a leftover chocolate chip one but wisely decides against it. He knows, like Newt, that Wheeler is totally serial in these kind of meetings, as the young’n’s might say. She wants the business done so she can leave and get back to what she was doing. Hiking in the Himalayas, surfing in Wakiki, bungee jumping in the New River Gorge — could be anything for the thrill seeker. Just last week it was rhino riding in the Serengeti. Next week, maybe a space walk even — who knows?

She comes as Eyela to the next Table meeting. Space walk it is.

15 minutes in and she looks down at her watch. “Are we *done*? I have a ship to catch.”

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June 26, 2022 · 5:30 pm

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Holding his two hot drinks comfortably in either hand, cozies in place, he pauses before leaving to admire the view toward the ocean, the sea that surrounds his home continent of Nautilus like a circumference to a circle (or square). About at the same place Newt, earlier on it seems, saw those salt and pepper shakers tittering on the floor. Exactly the same spot. Not tittering: *crying*. He readjusts the cozie on either cup and proceeds to take his “little bambinos” — as he likes to call them — back to The Table room for the meeting with Wheeler. Guess I should have asked if she wanted anything, he thinks while walking toward the castle gate. Perhaps one of those unsweetened teas she likes so much.

But too late: inside the castle now, its walls sealing off exterior from interior. He didn’t even look over at the whale tail brushing the side Starbuccaneer Barista mentioned. Another tight but meaningful that Baker missed in the rush toward safety.

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June 26, 2022 · 3:39 pm

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He didn’t know if they were open for business but he thought he’d try anyway. “I’ll have a 4 shot latte, I *mean* — 4 shots in a cup.”

“No milk?” she tried to clarify. “No flavoring, chocolate perhaps?”

“Just shots, please.”

“So,” she said, “you just want 4 espresso shots in a cup.”

“And two of them — forgot to add that.”

“*Two* cups with 4 shots each in them.”

“Yeah.”

Starbuccaneer Barista thinks: Baker Bloch has changed. She decides to say this aloud.

“Well, just saves time and money,” he comments about the switch in drinks. Probably brain damage down the road, he adds to himself, dutifully completing the unfolded triad.

“Coming right up!” she says brightly, moving down the counter to the espresso machine tucked between a seafood ad and the store safe, tight but meaningful. Aren’t you going to ask about the new establishment? she laments while filling the 2 baskets with 2 shots each, then two more of the same to follow, she reminds herself. Darn Baker Bloch. Always involved in himself; thinking about the blog and such. But then this, putting a smile back on her face:

“Place has changed.” He looks around. “Not really a Starbuccaneers. Glad you got coffee still.” I guess you’re the glue, he thinks, imagining her with her company pirate hat back on to match her apron. Guess it was removed to save on prims. Perhaps Spongeberg the Editor has already come for a visit, ha ha.

Changed just like you, she thinks, finishing the first of the two. Tandem. She says aloud: “Wheeler thought the white whale motif would look better against the side of the white castle. *Barely* fit, you know. Take a look at the tail when you leave.”

Baker glances at the rug behind him. “And the elephant. Why an elephant? Why not–”

“Enough whales in here already,” said Starbuccaneer Barista, scanning the pictures on the walls. Second of the two done, with two more to go still, she reminded herself again. “Have you ever been to Wales?”

—–

“Have you ever been in a whale?” Still no sense.

—–

“Have you —“. Wait, I guess that last sentence does make sense. Coffee is served.

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