“See, sister of mine? This is where I turn green. This could be the center of it all. This could be the well.”
“Then: me.”
—–
“Who is this inky man coming up the muddy road to see me, then?”
Category Archives: Omega
snow
“It’s so clean and white here, Morris. I’m glad this is the place you decided to wake up in.”
“Sorry you missed your meeting, Lou.”
“Oh well.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0510, Mountain Lake, Omega
Race
“Stop *staring* at the man, Baker Bloch thought about Horace Wise. It’s like he’s never seen a black person before.
“So,” Duncan began, obviously conscious of the riveting gaze, “looks like we’ll have to start without our Mountain Lake representative Ms. Well.”
“A *wo*-man,” spoke Horace Wise incredulously from his side. “I think not. We already have [delete rest of sentence].”
Baker Bloch breathed deeply. Looking at him, Duncan decided to jump in first. “First of all, we’re African-*Americans*. Just like you Horace.”
Horace Wise finally broke his stare, sighed, and waved his arms around in despair. “The Virtual Chel-sea Hotel, the finest building, most likely, in this whole, wide conti-nent. Represented by *you*.”
Alright, that’s it Horace,” states Baker Bloch angrily. “I’m evoking class *5* status by rights of being the *author* of this novel — a *Collagesity* novel, after all — and saying that your Philo is disqualified, disqualified, *disqualified* from the race for the treasure. Now — *get out*. It will be between me, *Duncan* here — a man like yourself, thankfully, or I don’t know *what* you’d call him — and then Lou, our representative apparently from the Mountain Lake region of the Omega continent.” In his rage, he left out the remaining candidate at the table: Teepot’s Jeffrie Phillips.
But Horace Wise didn’t leave immediately. “You’re taking all this serious-ly. The” — he looks over at Duncan — “*black* man here. Then a woman. *Wo*-man.”
“Yes!!” Baker Bloch’s yell could probably be heard all the way over to Horace’s hometown.
And this is probably what a lot of people were like back then. And could still be. Yes, probably were around in good numbers still. Philo is *history*, but history repeats.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0509, Mountain Lake, Myron, Rubi, Teepot+, VHC City
subtle
Fallout Guy spoke into the Pipboy 3000 attached to his right forearm. “No additional synchromystic activity noted on the Magenta Girls’ peninsula at The Straight.” He pauses, then: “One additional note. The sim the peninsula is located within is Girenzi, which in Our Second Lyfe is presently followed by sims Girl and then Girls. The property at the tip of the peninsula is called Bad Girls. That is all.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0412, The Straight
complex
We do not pretend to know what goes on inside the red curtains.
Nor the pink cube.
Kevin (“Fire”) and General Hooker (“Smoke”) lounge outside The Mermaid, waiting for Axis and Ruby to exit.
In the background: Vilania’s Safe Hub once more.
Last clients of the day (bi-weekly meetings, pheh, both think).
Afterwards: Talking about Philip Strevor’s new conditions while re-donning seasonal appearances at Holiday Flats in the midst of it all.
Suddenly, down by the bay:
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0411, The Straight
spirals
“Jeez I haven’t been here in quite a while, Tin Tin, er, Axis. 1/2 a year? Maybe more.”
Axis, who was a dog now, couldn’t answer, but kept indicating spots of significance from before with his sniffing nose.
“That gun is *never* going to stop firing at me. The only way I can stay here… with you… is to keep sitting on stuff. This blue inner tube I always loved, for instance.”
And then, let’s see…
—–
—–
“She can’t return to that moment, on that bench. Pain. She’ll die over and over again.”
“One more try, Albert.”
—–
“See her leg? This must be where she was made, Alex.”
“The guns are silent now.”
—–
“Look. There she is again (!)”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0406, New Island
cloudy with a chance of pain
“So here we are. But it’s Hidden Village, with the two l’s like the others. And also: Hilltop Road.”
“Interesting. Let’s see how far down this road we can go.”
—–
“Proper. The green journey ends here, where (inferior) red takes over (once more). See the mushroom cloud? Literally. This is what happens at the end of a world.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0405, Colorado, Google Street View, The Straight
Another
A confused, naked Santa walks into a bar in Hogadon, telling the bartender a joke beginning, “What’s white and doesn’t swim?” He then does something totally inappropriate which bars him from the property altogether.
—–
“Santas. All over the place. Either getting killed or driven stark raving mad. Hogadon Santy is the last example, body saved but the mind may never return. Useless for Christmas, you see.” He wraps himself tightly in his chair. “I could be next, Fairy Ruby. Sorry: Mrs. Claus.”
“Nah. We’re back on The Straight now. Seven never happened.” Fairy Ruby Mrs. Claus realized she was being rude. “Oh… do you want a tart? They’re cherry.” Then she remembered the appointment. Already 1 day late. Casey One Hole will be in a bad mood. Which is not a good thing. Atall.
—–
Santa-Axis suddenly found himself alone again, pondering on his ultimate fate. Perhaps another visit to the Vilania Safe Hub next door with all its harmless madness will perk him up. Make him jolly once more.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0403, Purden/Snowlands, The Straight
you’re it
—–
“So Karl (Karl!). What’s the story with the painting of the little girl with the blue purse?”
“That goes back a looong way, Dr. Superhero. With *blue* bowtie,” he adds on.
“Please, Mr. Bartender. Do tell.”
“I just did.”
He realizes the bowtie is the same as the purse, listening Mystic Girl thinks from the far side of the bar. Both tack ons. But does he realize he *is* the painting now? I created him. I should know.
“Something just happened, Karl.”
“Oh boy,” the furry bartender exclaimed anxiously, and quickly left the scene, claiming to be restocking in back.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0315, Middleton, New Island
art beings
“I want to change further, Axis. I am not happy being me any longer. Look at the women Rhode photographed here. Beautiful.”
“You have changed, Young Ruby,” Axis advised. “You are now Fairy Ruby, a natural extension. And certainly quite beautiful. Natural beauty. Not like these more fake examples in my opinion.”
“Look at what I found on the marketplace,” Ruby declared, and then rezzed a new top. “Another natural extension?”
“No, Ruby. Put that foolish thing away. Fairy Ruby is quite satisfactory to me, and besides, we get to be married to each other as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. At least for a while.”
“Until the end of the season, yes.” Ruby persisted. “But how about this with the top.”
“No Ruby,” insisted Axis, staring at the manifested hair. “You are trying too hard. Let’s go to the upper floors, to the more abstract art. That will cheer you up and inspire you more. Leave these so-called realistic photos behind. They’re affecting your confidence.”
“Alright. But I’m going to test out my new look a little longer.”
“That’s fine.”
—–
“See Ruby? You passed this accident right by. Intermixed red and green again. Back of a Rhode work instead of a front. Sometimes looking at what’s happening behind the stage, for example, gives more information than the play itself.”
Ruby runs ahead, ganders at the front…
… then looks all around the floor. “Huh. I guess you’re right, Axis. Everything is separated out neat and tidy in front. Green in this one. Red over there. Then green with a bit of red but only in one distinct streak, then another two reds and then back to green over here. ‘Green Monster’. The one we talked about before.
—–
“I’m not a monster, you know,” stated synchronized Gregg, sitting at the table opposite Mr. Babyface in their unfinished Middletown penthouse apartment. “I got’s real, true feelings. I like… Bailey’s in a shoe. I like watercolors. Watercolors of Bailey’s.” He pauses thoughtfully in his ranting. “I like you.”
“Oil me up, then.” Accompanied by a small buzzing sound, green Gregg Oden changes over to red Greg Ogden. Mr. Normal.
“Ah so.” But Mr. Babyface had been thinking lately that “normal” Greg(g) could do with a little more monster inside him. Might help their sex life. He dare not try all that out with the monster itself yet; not quite yet. Must keep using oil. No, he must think of other things now.
Sunklands 