Category Archives: Nautilus
A Fleabug’s Life
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0414, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West, Yd Island
marina (new killer star)
He figured this was his boat since he had the keys. And the Maebaleia battle flag. Was he finally heading home, away from *here*? He needed to get off this island at least. He knew that. But where? So many ports of call on this aptly named continent of Nautilus. He might as well be a submarine and attack it from the rear. But he was a woman’s man, he recalls. He had a sister.
She let him go. She’d read in the script she was suppose to do this but he didn’t know that, not quite yet. He’d received the pink April copy that morning in the post and she’d already gotten the July blue, with white between them. He wasn’t even in-between, as if stuck on one side of a flag. At least he wasn’t sitting in back and it flapping and slapping him, like poor Zach Black, still without his Jazz Attack, also thanks to Fern. Fern was *real* smart if you didn’t get that part, that role. Because you probably couldn’t. I’d give it at least a 145 to comprehend and play accurately. Sarah I think was the actor’s name, with Jody playing Marilyn, a somewhat lesser challenge. But that was all a long time ago now. I was a different person, a mere child in comparison.
The old and white man had a task, he knew this. To get the hell out of Dodge. West might be best since East is least. Little did he know that Fern Stalin would be waiting for him there as well.
(to be continued)
a state of being timeless
“Avalon,” he said without turning, remaining old and gray instead of black and white. The Room would always be his center, another Box come to think of it. Trapped.
“Yeah,” ditzy blonde Marilyn says back to him, still cleaning that glass, almost wearing it out like with sandpaper now. She should think of another task to perform. She’s stuck as if in a rut. But at least her mouth, her *mind* is still working forward. As well as backwards. “Some say Our Second Lyfe started here — in Dex — instead of Babylon.”
“Whore of Babylon,” he responded. “There *is* no Whore of Babylon.” He should know since he was there. “It’s all… make-believe.” He said it with disgust, she thought. He’s bitter about something else. A hidden truth. He could have done the deed as well as young Travis, she gleaned. If circumstances were different. She turned.
He assumed the position of a man, she a woman.
“You know, I had a sister once,” he started his confession on that late April day on the 4th of July.
Old and White
The wheels in his mind kept spinning. I’m in Dex, he thought rapidly. But in olden days this island, this *town*, was named Avalon according to that map over there on the wall, not too far from (the Isle of) Babylon but also: not too close. A gap between, but Smaller Water instead of Bigger Water. He had to prepare. The past meets the future and it’s not pretty. Pink (or red) does not bode well for a man. He’d been tested. Red it was. The lipstick remained. He could not remove it now, however hard he tried.
“Try again,” W. urged from the side, still just out of sight, of reach. He could only talk to her as if via phone.
She remained black and white as she twirled and whirled, like a rotisserie chicken in the Wild West of Nautilus, he believed, beyond the reach of phone. Hurry up, he thought, rid of the lipstick for now but not for long. This was a battle of Madam and I’m Adam. He turns.
At least Marilyn is here. Sing us that national anthem again, dearest.
!oosaB
He arrives in a red boat from Ten Pages. He thinks it may be the end of His Second Lyfe, Venus caged. The witch would know, if he could find her. Probably here, don’t you think? Probably here, I think.
Looks like 3 6’s to me. Maybe they’ll be okay.
They waited for the arrival of the legendary surfing blue panther but he never came. Or at least Sozzy Bozo missed him, mask over eyes instead of mouth.
Yoko Ona, fresh from a rock’n commercial over in Enigma, was fixing up a batch of her patented octopus balls in the kitchen and had her back turned, engrossed in her witchy ways under the stove vent.
Maybe next time.
red to blue
“Interesting tatoos.”
“Thanks.”
“So, are you going to join this Umbrella group, or not?”
“Don’t know. Depends on how the shrimp goes.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Food is my guide.”
“I hear ya.”
—–
“So, where’re you from?”
“Place called Spoiled Rotten.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. Got 4 daddies. And one biological one too although I usually don’t count him. 3 daddies, then. No: 4. Forgot about Fred.”
“You sound like quite the catch (!). Is it the tattoos? Should I get some? Who would you recommend? *What* would you recommend?”
“Tattoos?” She was only half listening to that last paragraph, instead thinking about Fred and how she needs to call him.
“Yeah.”
She readjusted her colorful legs, a story on each one. She spoke in general. “You have to appease your daddies so stuff like ‘I’m yours,’ or ‘Daddy’s baby’.”
“Lemme guess,” the untattooed one said back. “Even though *you’re* in control.” Observing from her position, she was thinking: 3 9’s make a 6.
“Yeah baby.” Both giggle.
“How about you?”
“Oh, a nowhere place. Vanilla mom and dad. An uncle who was a prevert. That’s why they sent me away.”
“To this camp, yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“Well…?” Same for her? she was pondering. Could she have found, a friend?
Charlie
“We died on that line,” spoke White Mage, rid of cursed blue and red. Now only purity. “That’s why we can go back and forth back and forth, not worrying about time.”
“Or space,” she dutifully finished, applying the last of her makeup.
But in truth she wasn’t ready to commit to death. She felt this could be an anomaly, a once in a lifetime opportunity. After all, the red still applied to her lips, the blue to her eyelids. They were still *fixed* in ways. She turned. “Pucker up, white boy.” If the red transferred to him, then (this world) might be real.
—-
later; downstairs:
She *thinks* it worked. She had fun trying anyway. She crossed her legs, prepared for whatever. “Turn around again, *Brend*. Let’s see.”
open
“You’re not red and blue any more, Brend. You’re white.”
“Just like you,” he acknowledged. “We work in tandem. Together.”
“I… don’t think we made it…”
“… past the creatures, yeah. Critters,” he redefined.
“Yet. Here we are.”
“Thought to be Critter Sea,” he returned. “But instead: Crisp. Crisp Sea.”
“Crisp… Sea,” she repeated, more crisply on the Crisp.
“But we definitely didn’t make it.”
“Nah,” she followed quickly and moved into position 06 in the sequence, unable to look at it any longer.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0407, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West
statements of fact
This boat has nowhere to go. It’s landlocked.
Hidi is both red and blue at once.
She is not alone.
Later they travel by a different boat and head to the open sea.
Here be Creatures….
Made it?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0406, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West
sideways observer (23 23 23 )
—–
“We must change your name from Axis-Windmill,” she spoke from the side, also observing. But me in this case. A 10 now instead of a 9. Good. We return to Squared Root City, she urged. No need to invoke karma in this place again. No need to even mention the name again. The Princess has spoken.
—–
So I go to another 23 23 — but not w/ a 3rd 23 — in a very different sim, but it’s the wrong time (again). Let’s take W.’s suggestion…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0405, Heterocera, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Rose Heaven-, Rubi, Squared Root City-
Sunklands 