Is that an old vintage computer lot # 03152460 birthday June 6 1966? she thinks from the only animation she can properly make with its chair. Schweet. She gets her dumb duck ass out of the stupid seat and begins to bang on its keyboard. Break mother f-ing board break!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, Omega, 0201, Bandanaboro, 0052
Healing the mind and body with bathing blue and red ray treatments respectively, another reason to like this place.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0052, 0116, Bandanaboro, Omega
Staring at the pink door at the bottom of the place, she thinks back to the night of her assault, wondering if she had had her present dirty blonde hair and protective duck duds and mannerisms the incident might have turned out differently. Because the black hair she had back then stifled the attack at first but only at the head. The brute ape of a man couldn’t see, hear, smell or taste. But he could still touch, the final sense he had remaining to go along with his senseless nogg’n. This attack didn’t make any sense except for 1, and that’s all he needed. At the peak moment he was distracted, she managed to break free and deliver back her patented hook kick that knock him out dead. But… the shame. How she did it she still didn’t know. All she knew was that she was able, in this one particular moment of singularity, to uncouple Ichelus from Orgamast and live to see another non catty-corner day in the month of late April’s May.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, Omega, 0115, Bandanaboro, 0052
“Funny how I’m talking to you in my head… in the Body. Maybe I should have met you up top instead.” Smiling Shelley points to her own heart then moves her finger up to her own head. No Lag smiles back yet still remains quiet. “How’s your love life,” Shelley thinks to ask. Why not? This starts her up, gas suddenly in her tank.
“Tony B. is ggreat, a real tiger.” In bed, is the unspoken ending to that sentence. Like Kellogg’s cereal mascot minus the sex, another tiger.
“But… Tony is *my* boyfriend.”
“Dreamy isn’t it.”
Shelley had had enough of that imaginary conversation. She looks around the Body for other things of interest. No Lag vanishes into the background again, her lines done. Lions, tiger. Bear with me. tbc
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0052, 0114, Bandanaboro, Omega, Washington
Duck clad, duck protected Shelley stares through the triangle provided at the top of the ramp and recognizes the metallic pink car in the distance. It’s from the same stacked piles of old autos she and fellow Silver band member Okama Majo perched on top of about 15 posts back and contemplated the removal of the tip from the other sand edifice in town viewed in the distance, the male to complement the female — much like in Okama Majo’s body itself.
She then thinks she hears a single cry from below — human. Spooked at first, she rationalized that it must have been the effects of wind produced when she turned away from the car. Yes that must be it, she solidifies in her mind, just like No Lag solidified a banana immediately below her in order to say *SORRY* once more.
Down the next ramp she goes. Into the heart of the thing. tbc
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0052, 0112, Bandanaboro, Omega
Completio. Yellow to red to blue to green to make our way back to yellow to both end and begin it all again. Waterfall stairs.
—–
“Tony. I- I feel like we don’t exist here any more, like the town has gone completely bananas. Like we’re fading into the same colored backdrop of our lives. Like — like we don’t exist here any more.”
She rolls over after no response from the other side of the bed. “Tony? Tony dear? Where’d you go?” Then she stares up from the inactive blue ball beside her at the big banana shaped pillow and starts to remember. They’re still in the jail cell. They never left.
“Tony!” she speaks to it, voice returned to default shouting mode. “I’m so sorry I did this to you!” *SOB*
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0052, 0111, Bandanaboro, Omega
After the assault she disguised herself as a duck and also changed her hair color back to its original dirty blonde to more safely navigate the streets and alleyways of what we’ve decided to call Bandanaboro, always interesting but often threatening. Here she stands at the corner of Holy Hero and… well I can’t quite read the name on the other sign. 88/88/88 as well, the *2nd* triple number of the sim to add to the already discussed armoire at 77/77/77. Seems important. Seems worth chancing a disguise so you can penetrate deeper into the bowels of this on-the-surface foul place. More to be found here.
After exploring up and down both Holy Hero and the other one only to find more foul not fair, her attention finally returns to the 100 foot sand colored Body and its attached Head. Right over there behind her in the above photo. Should have taken the hint.
—–
“Okay pay attention up there,” she calls to the camera above her now, focus front and center. “I’m going in again.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0052, 0110, Bandanaboro, Omega
You don’t know how to do it Tony *Banana*. You have to serenade your woman of choice. I will win her heart for you to make you a match made in heaven this time, ready to party down like it’s the end of the world. Watch.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0052, 0109, Bandanaboro, Dickey Trace, Omega
The island turned into a water vortex, as he knew it would. The goddess or siren or whatever rose out of it high into the sky. She looks toward the now glowing blue sphere above her instead of away like before; all her attention is focused on it while the waters from the whirling dervish keep her tethered to a world ocean. She cannot rise any higher. Yet, suspended as she is, she remains safe. For now. We keep the water going.
All I can do is watch from afar, not interfering, not even upon threat of global extinction. We are probably near the end times but who knows. Look at Prince and 1999 and the Y2K threat. Everyone thought it was the end *then*. But we — they — continued on. This time seems… different.
I must go back to the ship and tell the others of this new development.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0052, 0106, Bandanaboro, Dickey Trace, Mythopolis, Omega, Wazob
“There he goes again out to her, Olaka.”
“I see her, ” he replied to his twin bro-sis Okama, on pink this time. They take turns. His was the Middle Ages.
“Might as well be tied to the mast of that small vessel, you know. Siren call.”
“Not Calypso but getting there,” Olaka said to close. Too close.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0052, 0105, Bandanaboro, Dickey Trace, Mythopolis, Omega, Wazob
