Category Archives: Mountain Lake^

January 27, 2021 · 10:24 am

edges

She was told not to leave the mountain she was on. “Don’t go past the Easter Island head,” her half-sister rather commanded on the phone yesterday, knowing the Fall of Man lies all around. They chatted about mom. They chatted about… Bart. “On the lam,” Lisa states, acknowledging her fears. Never got over the Great Black Swamp. “Beware the Wheelers!”, then, “Beware Wheelers!” Or was it “Heelers”? — she couldn’t remember. All she knows currently is that Bart is in the swamp without the ability to TILE, to come back to the flock and rejoin his sister. She recalls the day her grandfather — poor grandad! — told her about the experiments, one that went right (sister) and the other which went wonky (brother). “The sister will be a good companion for you in future times of trouble,” he stated, listening to the ever-present sound of whales, which of course she heard as well but thought they were sharks. “She is older, she is wiser. You will see her every now and then and that is good enough. I’m estranged from Marg, and she’s blocked the visiting rights. But when the time comes, Lisa will make herself known to you. Bart as well, but: Beware Bart. He will be possessed by the Great Black Swamp by that time. The Soothsayer speaks.”

And so now she’s closer to her half-sister than ever, who rescued her from a sticky situation indeed. Kicked out of Green Yarn, a thought of new home where she could examine the whole Ray (short for Rainey) phenomenon in full and the inclusive 2 Barrys, who may be just one Barry now. Heck, Ray and Barry may be the same — the name of the former is included in the latter, after all.

But back to the half-sister…

(to be continued)


snowy peak again

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January 25, 2021 · 7:12 am

i’ve got a bike

Hidi wonders why a pink rabbit head is perched atop 6 Minute Hill over on Jeogeot where she had followed a, well, rabbit trail of leads to tonight. Nothing much else in the sim besides this banned section of land bought about a year back.

In the place where she just came from over on the Omega continent, someone insinuated she looked like Wendy. “Are you trying to sell me a burger?” went the brief conversation — I’m paraphrasing, but Hidi thought it funny because she, as Wheeler, often *does* dress up as Wendy the famed burger queen these days. She wonders what that means as well, because: probably something.

As she’s looking around, the only other non-abandoned parcel in the sim belongs to a group she was allowed to just join headed by a gal avatar named Fry. This rung a bell as well, because in RL I had just visited a quite mysterious seeming place named not Fry but very close: Frye, a formerly unknown (to me) small cemetery on the side of a very familiar mountain. I put two and two together to make five as I’m often wont to do. But All Black lies in that direction, at least in this particular location. Black Rose (Thorn) black…

It suddenly struck me that the Omega continent city I just said Lisa the Vegetarian owned, perched between two mountains as it were, was actually owned by a guy avatar named Frye — totally in-sync spelling this time. And there’s a whole ‘nother set of reasons I assoc. Lisa the V. with Frye involving *MASH*ups. And I’ve thought of a name for the burg: Bridge Town.

“We are very understanding, baker b. That’s why I rented out the other side of my other mountain to that company I don’t directly associate with but understand: needs. We do not judge. We are not Judge Frye.”

We are not done here by a long shot.

Philip Strevor has moved from the middle of the road (not caught in the headlights like a deer?). The small city remains active and alive.

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January 25, 2021 · 7:12 am

Orient 01 02

Baker reading a popular history of the Trojan-Durexian Wars and contemplating the “what ifs” of a Durexian win, an alternate reality. What if… the voodoo spells were a little more advanced at the end; what if… the Southern Passage could have been secured 3 days earlier by Lord Duncan and his crew. Water under the bridge now, because the North defeated the South, although the Great East-West Highway represents a tangible barrier between the two still. So besides being split off, in essence, from the rest of Our Second Lyfe, the Omega continent remains kind of split itself, despite the unifying government. Lisa the Vegetarian played a role in setting all this up. Quartz was her game, and the Omega continent mountains centered around a large lake contained plenty of it. She was able to buy mountain after mountain, selling most of them eventually but retaining some, like the one where Tessa is temporarily staying in that treehouse with a strong butterfly theme. This is her half-sister after all (!). Why wouldn’t she try to help out, now she knows the urgency of the situation.

Baker here sits on the side of the same mountain, staring out at an old Durexian air base with a bamboo plane relic, a heritage site now. Because bamboo didn’t cut it in the end, despite the strong voodoo. Not strong enough anyway; later it got out of hand as poverty increased.

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January 25, 2021 · 7:12 am

Occident and Orient

Contrary to popular opinion, there were places of sanctuary within the Omega continent. This treehouse for instance, although it is minimally so. Owned by Lisa the Vegetarian as it turned out; the “city” in front of it as well, which she declares in the land description she is, “just mucking about with like a lemonade stand”, with little in internal living space yet. In fact, she owns the mountain just north as well (the “city” spanning both), renting half to a company she doesn’t directly associate with but understands the reason for. Our Second Lyfe is split, a bigger half over here and a smaller half way over there. It’s like you have a basket of apples on one side and an orange or two on the other. How to sew them together? Well… you can’t. They remain…


Omega continent snowy peak seen at end of photo-novel 11

—–

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January 23, 2021 · 10:07 am

classical

She should have never gone into that cave. She was out in the open, the fresh, clean air with the star studded sky spreading out above her, and then she wasn’t. A path, but not leading to clean, fresh water. Dank, dingy, green, algae congested. Atrophied. Some say her life was atrophied when she got hitched to her twin brother Toothpick/Philburg back at the end of photo-novel 22. Only the Free Tilists, with close ties to the Deep South (of Black Ice), would marry them. “Amoral,” cried to Pentagonists, worshipers of all things 5 sided and 5 pointed and originating on Mars. “Blasphemous, a slap in the face of Our Lord God of Heaven,” bemoaned the Trilogists, better known as our Christians. Only the 4-square Tilists would touch it, but only in Catalpa outside the direct influence of the city council who had ultimate judgment in these matters and could expel the couple if the ceremony was held on their grounds. Instead: All Orange, between the wine red apples of Apple’s Orchard and the slick yellow banana symbolically lying at the center of Black Ice, which all revolves around like a Beanstalk or Pope to a helmet wearing monkey (crook) with one upturned and one downturned eyebrow. It was only in All Orange where it could happen. The 5th, but in a good way this time (we hope).

Barry De Boy settled back in the rocking chair with the maple leaf pillow and felt it was good. I have acquired the power of the three now, the scissors to begin, then the paper, then, lastly, rock (in the middle). Rock solid I am. Jeffrie Phillips I am. He he he. He he he he he. Ho ho. Hu. Huh.

“Hi!”

It was Waldrip. Or was it Waldrup. Waldrop? …drep? Anyway, I could feel his presence even if I couldn’t see him. Like a mouse.

He stopped rocking, stood up. “Who goes there?”

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January 23, 2021 · 9:53 am

Swampland 02

“Get away from me, get *away* from me!” But Elberta had only been dreaming. Something was after her, something that came up from the swamp, down that very path over there. She was in the middle of the swamp that use to be a lake and she couldn’t remember how she got here. She sheathed the knife she drew in the panic of waking up. “All a dream,” she said, trying to comfort herself and not doing a very good job. Something *was* here.

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January 23, 2021 · 9:04 am

Swampland

It was starting to rain. She was no more closer to finding the girl than when she began. But she *was* the girl, hmph. Butterflies… that’s how she remembered. Butterflies lead down a path to the Pond of Memory. But the Mountain Lakes region is complicated, with many peaks to traverse. She was on top of one of these peaks, but Elberta didn’t know which one. Just a peak. Paradise; ecstasy.

She held tight under an eave to get out of the raindrops. Someone was going to come out of that door over there.

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January 22, 2021 · 10:32 pm

00240412

Those black, white (yellow) and red ladies said I didn’t have to stay here that long and that’s probably a good thing. A little too grown up here, in that things are too *big* for me… like this chair. Can hardly see over the edge of the table!

But those flowers are nice in front of me, although they make me do weird things when “touched,” like touch my toes — touch for touch. Maybe I don’t want to touch my toes, I say back. And then they quickly relent — they always do — returning me to my sitting position in the chair. Strange also that they don’t have a vase.

And certainly the *butterflies* all around are a perk-me-up in these dark dark times. I lost Carolin! I lost Mabel and now I’ve lost my next best friend, the one that remained behind and helped me through the first dark times. Robert! she remembered. I totally forgot about Mabel’s lime green robot stored away after her — not *demise*: disappearance. Carolin said he would be too hard to take care of now that Mabel is gone, thus the dismantling, the storage. But, oh Robert, I *do* need you now. You were the third best friend, after second, Carolin, and first, Mabel. But do I want to put you in the same jeopardy that they, unbeknownst to me, were in — just by association? How hard would it be to put him back together? Carolin said: near impossible, when she brought it up every now and then, especially when she remembered the most times small sometimes not as small difference between a second best friend (Carolin) and a first (Mabel). Third could help fill the gap and more. Why *not* try now — what’s to lose (except a 3rd best friend)? So when the black, white (yellow) and red ladies come back I’ll tell them. Maybe they can help with the reactivation, come to think of it. They do seem to feel genuinely sorry for my plight — kicked out of Green Yarn, a thought of *new* home, and then turning into a wanderer again, first at the End of Time caves like before, and then — kicked out again. The black, white (yellow) and red swooped down in their spaceship: set down the cow they had in their tractor beam and latched onto me instead; brought me up in their ship. I wasn’t scared, strangely, like I was use to it. I had nothing to lose. They offered me — hope.

Thus the stay in the treehouse. “You’ll be safe here — for a time,” they collectively said before whisking away back into space.

(to be continued)

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January 25, 2020 · 11:02 am

to remember it by (Treasure Hill continuation)

“I keep looking out that window and thinking there’s someone sitting up on that giant live oak limb, staring at us. But it’s just that dark angel in the middle of the pond over there.”

“One hour ’til sunrise,” urges Eighty-seven beside her, formerly Eighty-eight.

“Match tonight — better try to get some sleep.” Eighty-six now.

—–

Surely Wheeler will be alright on her own this *one* time, thinks rocking Baker Blinker back in Collagesity at her Gloomy Gus house. The 88’s will be with her.

But someone indeed has followed Wheeler to the wrestling arena in what use to be Morgan-Julia. And is manipulating time and space around her.

“One more piece then I’m done,” mutters Cpt. Americus, trying to polish off his bucket of chicken so he can think properly about another evil plot to hatch.

The stream rages on…

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November 10, 2019 · 8:20 am

pretty Improvio

“Anyway, I thought I’d just pop over and tell you that your old house is up for rent. Better get back to the brood.”

“Wait, Gambler,” Greg Ogden implored. “Before you go, tell me more about this Core-Alena, how she got to Gaston, how she passed through Purdy here on the way.”

“I already told you,” Gambler projected. “She passed through centers and then she just uprooted herself and started walking from the original ‘Purd’ — this Purd*en*.”

“As opposed to Purdy here and also the Purdue University related sim. I get that. But why couldn’t she start walking, say, *here*?”

“You know that too,” came the reply. “Purden is actually the secret centre of Our Second Lyfe itself. Triple 128 — only one.”

“The…” Greg Ogden attempted, then let Gambler take over again, seeing the stumble.

“All the axes measure the same: height, depth, length. A, B, C: the great 3-n-1. But in Core-Alena’s case it is also the center of a 256x256x256 sim cube. It’s what makes her, well, *unique* unique.” Gambler was referring to the all important tree being as a she because that’s how she knew him-her in Gaston.

“But she’s not at this centre any longer,” continues Greg Ogden, chattier thanks to the (doped) coffee. He suddenly realizes this, and holds his mug out in offering mode. “Sure you won’t have any?” He was hoping to get the whole story today, whatever means. *Whatever* I mean here. Gambler was an old girlfriend over in Gaston for Greg Ogden, having met her shortly after changing from machine to man (but still keeping a lot of machine characteristics, like an obsession with symmetry). She came here to tell him about his old, empty house, yes, but there was more to it. He could feel this. Something about Purdy. He was a purdy man, true. He knew this — all the ladies end up, in the end, telling him so. Gaston changed him forever in this way. Sister Improvio too. Earie as well. He became Greg Ogden, Improvio became Pretty Man — wait. That’s *it*. Gambler, all along, was…

He could see through her disguise now. “Boy this coffee is good,” he declares, taking another draw from the toxic concoction.

—–

“We’re both purdy,” she ended. “Too similar to each other in our red and blue. We had to create Earie in the middle. Ear. Between the sun yellow legs.” She stared up at the brightest star in the sky, not looking away. The only star. The daylight one. All turned black.

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