Category Archives: Nautilus

November 4, 2021 · 8:13 am

00290614

“I think I’m going to like it here back on this Nautilus continent, let’s see (he studies her), Lichen?”

“Call me Blondie,” she requests. “As in ditzy.” But he knew this wasn’t true. She was just a comedian. “Watch this,” she then said, waving her hand toward the grill. “Fire.”

“Nifty.” A witch too.

—–

“So Lichen is involved now. This must be 1942. But where’s Fern; Wendy? Is she…”

“Questions,” W warned, who may be Wendy herself. “Gambling boat,” she answers about Fern at least. “Dixie Belle. See you there.”

—–

“Well that looks like it, gentlemen. Last hand: I win the boat.”

“I don’t understand what happened,” shocked Jim A. Brown to her left managed to utter. “All I had all night was clubs and diamonds.”

“And…” sputtered similarly baffled Zach Black opposite him. “Me? Hearts…”

“… and spades,” Fern Stalin finishes for him. “Yes, yes, very peculiar. What are the odds.”

“Odds doesn’t begin to describe it,” says Zach, trying to figure out how he’d ever win his Jazz Attack band back from this, this… *witch*.

“Time to bring out the girl,” she then declares.

Jim A. Brown and Zach Black look across the Belle on the table at each other. “Lena?” They weren’t ready for this but what choice did they have?

“No no no no no, the other one. The red haired one. The one we’ve been studying… collectively. Wait… don’t tell me. Is she dead? Like Maebaleia (continent) to us now? Let’s go with the boy, then, the Indian. But not Asian. Half and half. Is he still in his pod, bubbling away? I need to see the studies Rose produced, all the figures. Bring them… *now*.”

Her rapid fire delivery left Jim A. Brown and Zach Black drained of blood as if they were dead. And perhaps they were. Gambling debts gone wrong sometimes end that way. At any rate, they disappear from the scene, leaving Fern confronting… I suppose this is Wells?

(to be continued)

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November 2, 2021 · 6:47 pm

reversed

The sim above Bart had finally turned from a raspberry shade of color back to clear, indicating it was online again. He could return to his boat that he rented to impress his new “girlfriend”. He turned the sky raspberry instead and went to work.

—–

We don’t need Axis-Windmill between us to know this is all about TILE, Guyd.”

“We sure do, Rebl,” the fellow cat-person answered, but not a fellow like in a boy. Two girls and two cats. But that was about all they had in common.

“Better get over to the boat, Guyd, see what SID is up to.”

“That isn’t SID.” Yellow and green eyed Guyd tried to disagree with red-blue eyed Rebl at every important turn, and this was certainly one of ’em. Guyd felt SID was a character that didn’t need to be introduced in this here photo-novel, 29 in a series… in a series…

“I know,” agreed Rebl, surprising Guyd and knocking him out of his usual anti-Rebl mode. “This is Bart.” Both made “O”s with their mouth, as if they’d surprised each other. It was the first time they synchronized since Tuesday. 2 years ago.

—-

“DONT”

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November 2, 2021 · 5:12 am

SID B.

It was hard to tell how old she was from this distance, this Raspberry Girl. She wore old style clothing that’s for sure. But I knew she was my salvific force, the thing I needed to live on in the minds and hearts of others. So I decided to approach her.

—–

“A date?” she said daintily. “But you hardly know me. We just met.” I had to get to know her better, study what made her tick. Why the change of time revolving around her. Two thousand zero zero: party was suppose to be over, out of time. Yet here she is. It was a cloudy day, which means she’s not the brightest. But perhaps that is an act as well — probably is. I *sense* this.

I am a powerful entity or personality I know that. I can change the course of history. I can come back. But I have to have help.

(to be continued?)

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October 10, 2021 · 9:03 am

East (World of Lemon)

It was a peculiar dream for the boy. A happy Green in the midst of a sea of unhappy Red. And he himself: that color. He looks down at the world that he doesn’t realize is Earth but knows is a globe. “Our Second Lyfe looks strange today,” he says, studying it. Maebaleia — thicker or something — and over there, Zindra, he thought. The forbidden continent, ha ha. I’ve seen pictures. And up there: Corsica. Loooonnng. But Nautilus… *Nautilus*…

He wakes up. Also stirring Lena Horned is ready to go home and he’s in charge of seeing her there. Groggy Zach Black says he’s going to stay a little longer and drink some more coffee and sober up. I was the sane one right now. But was I unhappy? Did I really have a good boss? Yes, he decided, looking down at his real yellow skin on his hands and arms. I answer for Red but she also answers for me in the lonnng game, which I’m playing. Because one day I’m going to marry her, different species or not, he determined then and there. Lena was leaning on him now, still struggling to put one foot after another. It was up to him to protect, she said. Use the powers of the Great Black Swamp, The Abyss, if needed. But *carefully* and also only what you absolutely have to. The Abyss, pheh, he thinks. He’s not sure it is a real place yet.

In another dream, he was a circle that had been straightened out.

(to be continued)

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October 1, 2021 · 8:11 am

fused

Accompanied by the music of Certain Death playing on the turntable, an old, religious man reads slightly pornographic manga well into the night. Did it in Kowloon where he came from, doing it here. Nothing wrong.

In another part of Horns, Jacob’s I awakes from the dead, as it were, and rolls his stiffened neck. “Ugggh. Where *am* I?”

Kick-ass Bogota’s long vigil is over. He can rejoin his brother Boos, wherever he is at the moment, probably Red’s Diner.

Yes: Red’s.

Bigfoot is a hot topic tonight. A giant spool has now been rolled onto an artist’s location and made into a firepit. Staring into the flames one last time, Kick-ass takes his leave before Jacob I. realizes who he is.

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October 1, 2021 · 7:19 am

spotted

If our timing is right, a green shoe should come into view about here.

There!

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September 26, 2021 · 9:49 am

00290108

He had a new girl now. And, not coincidentally, a new director. Percy was her name, although some people call her Pauline. Some people don’t call her anything, afraid to say the wrong thing and suffer the consequences. Other people know her as Dean, which is apparently a woman’s name as well — didn’t know that. Some say she looks exactly like Jill Valentine from the Evil Residents game, and she does. But they aren’t the same.

Some say she has umbrella eyes, but that was instead Shelley Struthers, also dead, also an evil resident, or at least others say. All Marion Star Harding knows is that he is in love again, a new Valentine in his life, although he still dreams — day and night — about his old “cowgirl” Heidi. He can’t decide between a woman who’s dead who he can keep alive in his mind, and this woman here lying on the beach before him who’s perhaps dead but still living. A conundrum.

“Marion,” she calls over, getting up from the towel. She dare not take her bodysuit off else the flesh could crumble. It’s all that’s holding her together now. “I’ve got to direct another shoot over in Cass City. I’ve got to get going. Be a dear and start packing my bags.”

More time with Heidi coming up soon, then. Is he happy about it? He’s not sure.

(to be  continued)

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September 26, 2021 · 7:54 am

Close enough.

A girl within. Looks like Jill Valentine but it’s not. And I’ve run into another girl named Valentine recently. Can’t remember where…

Oh, of course: *Faye* Valentine. With the gun. On the *other* Diagonal we’re currently examining.

Cowboy Bebop. Mimosa Lanes. Ur-parents. Still guiding (“We: here”). Hoooome cooking, Andy Griffith NC style.

—–

Marion “Star” Harding, cowboy for life, ponders the death of his lover, his *director*, in that awful explosion over in Paper-Soap. Oh Heidi — or whatever your actual name was — I will miss you deeply. I will miss the *money* coming in, because I was one of your favorites. You cast me in every film you directed, and even though I didn’t get every part (too obvious!), I got a good heap of ’em. We were together tonight, albeit briefly.

All we have are memories.

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September 26, 2021 · 7:04 am

like corn

—–

It was a Red Land, mix in a bit of yellow (“Yelloo!”), a kinder, gentler Axis for the modern agogo world of yesterday’s tomorrow, mix in a little propeller (whirl, whirl whirl!). Okay, let’s ditch the propeller cap actually. Here he is.

Bit of midriff showing but we’re working on it: we’ve called him Windmill Man, as he stands at the bottom of another Diagonal that acts as the axis for the Chalet subcontinent of Bellisaria. Bellisseria. This is the path to FREEDOM, starting at Brady Stream. I check nightly for name changes to the surrounding base sims.

The Diagonal moves upwards beyond Bellisaria into the Maebaleia continent, almost as hard to spell. And this is where we must begin tonight, because new things are happening in Cassandra — just off this Diagonal or affected by its energy. Developments continue…

It was a poor, shivering girl indicating that lawnmower guy Jacob I. was still alive and awake and kicking like a little baby here. Somewhere. Thank you. I said: thank you. Watch out! (swerve at last second)

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September 18, 2021 · 9:21 am

more

“This is Scooter. Scooter this is Herbert. He just woke up today.”

“Scooter eats rats,” the horse neighed, and was off again, chasing another one. They watched him attentively move to the edge of the green plateau…

… and then dive into the bushes.”

Scooter doesn’t really eat rats,” said Hoppy in a lower voice in case Scooter was listening in. Horses could tune into about 5 different conversations around them if needed and understand everything in every single one. “He just chases them, then *pretends*. Or maybe,” Hoppy says in a rethink, “he just pretends *everything*.” Hoppy hadn’t actually ever seen a rodent in the woods. Except for Wilber the Vole, who doesn’t count (uneducated).

Scooter emerges from the bushes about where he entered them and walked to his grassy spot again. “Scooter ate rats. Scooter sleepy now. Goodbye.”

—–

“Okayyy, then moving on, we have Jerimy here on the picnic table, enjoying… well, what’re you eating Jerimy? Don’t say rats, hah.”

“Spinach.” And Jerimy takes another bite of his blueberry pancake. But Herbert notices he sounds exactly like the horse in saying this.

Hoppy looked up to Herbert, sensing the confusion. “Lots of comedians here, you see. Horses that pretend to eat rats, bears that pretend they are horses eating rats — er, spinach — in turn. Bears are super mimics.”

“Bears are *super* mimics,” says Jerimy in exactly the same tone and register as Hoppy, except emphasizing the word “super” a bit more.

“See?” He turns back to Jerimy. “Where’s your mother, Jerimy?”

“Shot.” Now he sounds exactly like Jackie the swan.

“Now, Jerimy, that’s not very nice. You shouldn’t make fun of tragedy.”

Jerimy makes a series of machine gun sounds, then a loud whistle as if a plane was plummeting from the sky, then an explosion upon impact. Hoppy was shaking the resulting spittle from his entire body and Herbert was shaking it from his shoe and the lower part of his trousers.

“Radius: 10 feet,” then exclaimed the young bear comedian (comedian?). “All debris must be cleared up by O 9 o’clock.” Radio announcer now. Jerimy’s a regular listener of the BBC, especially enjoying war dramas like “Mary Queen of Scots”. “Penguins,” he then utters nasally, imitating something else, perhaps another voice from the radio. “Bloody *stupid* penguins.”

“Jerimy?” Hoppy was trying to get the cub to focus. “Where’s Mama?”

“Mama.” The voice of a human baby now. “Ma-ma. Ma-ma.” He pretend sucks at a milk bottle: “*slurp slurp slurp* *BUUURP*”.

Jerimy, that’s *rude*.”

“BUURRRRRRRRRRRRRP!” Half the birds in the surrounding woods flew from their perches. Several thought they were being shot at with some kind of special gun. One fainted and fell to the ground. But he was okay (Billie Perch, a Hollywood starling).

“Done, Jerimy?” Hoppy thumped a rabbit foot and crossed his arms in exasperation. Bears could be trouble, especially if they go on a comedic roll. How to slow it down?

(to be continued?)

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