Category Archives: **VIRTUAL SL

January 27, 2025 · 4:37 pm

00450602

Just as she was watching someone, someone was watching her.

But she didn’t care. Currently she was spying on what she called The One from the branch of a park tree with Philip, certainly a detour from the town tour she promised. “*Edward*,” she spat out with some vile. “He’s suppose to be forbidden here. She’s *married*, hmph.”

“Lexi, I hate to bring it up but you promised me and Gus that meeting with Frank.”

“Oh Frank can go -f-ck himself,” she rudely declared.

“Oh. Okay.” Philip looked at Gus on his shoulder who, wide-eyed as always through the burning, just peered back wordlessly. Hard to tell if the little fire demon was shocked at the language or not.

“Soooo… who is this again?”

But Lexi suddenly became even more preoccupied. “They better not, no they better not, no no no no NO.” Shelley and Edward looked up from their attempted kiss and scanned the environment, trying to locate the source of the call. But they were deep enough in the foliage not to be spotted. The moment, however, seemed to be ruined. Good, thought Lexi, realizing the same. They’re wrapping things up, it seems, and Edward will go his own way and Shelley her’s.

“So, who’s this couple, then?” Philip tries again, watching them get up off the bench and start moving away from each other. “Edward, you said?”

“And *Shelley*. Yeah, run your cute little ass all the way home, you bitch of a girl. You temptress.”

Philip started to come around to the idea that Lexi and he would maybe be staying together but they wouldn’t be sleeping together. Not in that way. Because this obsession revealed a shells on the other side of the beach scenario. Shells as in Shelley.

“Time to go,” she then said, starting to make her way off the branch and into the park below. Philip followed suit, being careful not to spill Gus in the process. But she wasn’t quite done with Shelley today in April’s May.

“There she goes, Philip. Back into the Tunnel of Love.”

What does *that* mean, Philip thought, but didn’t ask this time. They’d been delayed long enough.

(to be continued)

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January 27, 2025 · 9:01 am

00450601

He came back to Nawt Vaya and the Jeogeot continent of Our Second Lyfe a changed man. No more monkeying around again. He read in the red book up to the present. Retrieved the fire demon formerly named Calcifer but now called Gus from the netherworld known as The Netherlands, check. Walked out of Vijlen and toward the Vaalserberg mountain that is the highest of that realm and just winked out. Manifested here. Sitting in front of Gus, now trying to communicate with the little flamey guy. Happened once before. He puts down the book. “Didn’t it, pal?”

“Frank,” it squeaked in reply, which it’d said previously. And like before, Philip waited for more which never came. “Frank, eh?” he finally said. The fire demon seemed to nod a little to this with his burny head that was also his body but that’s all. No more words for a while.

“I know who he’s talking about,” spoke propped up Lexi from behind the counter, tired from a full day’s work and needing a break. Coffee’s run out anyway, so’s the food. Only cigarettes and other burny things left. Nada New Year also at the counter had to settle for spicy gum, which she was about to pop when I took the above photo. Later she added more spice to the picture.

“Well,” said Philip Strevor. “Speak your truths, woman… girl. Tell me who this Frank is, where he is. Is he fictional or fact? Does he dwell in a house or apartment like the rest of us or is his abode that of the mind and that alone?”

“Oh he’s real,” perked up Lexi. “Came here with him, this Juho.”

“Juho?” So Philip had a name for the place now. And perhaps a name for at least one of the residents. He wanted more.

“What’s *your* name?” So Lexi told him. “And that’s Nada over there chewing away at the only nutrition I could provide at this late hour,” she added. “I’m glad you yourself are enjoying your cigarette.”

“*Gus* is enjoying the cigarette,” said Philip. “Helps keep him lit. Isn’t that right Gus?” No answer. “But pray tell, putting the caboose back on the track, where do I find this Frank if he’s real? Does he also exist in this Juho you’ve illuminated the name for? Perhaps he even lives with you.”

“I’ll take you there,” said Lexi to this, shaking off the living together part. “Quitting time in, let’s see (she checks her watch not on her arm, actually relying on an internal clock), 15 minutes. Nada, you’ll have to take what’s left of your gum and clear out too.” Nada nods in understanding. But not before doing a dance called the Johana.

20 minutes later:

“We’ll pass through Juho proper on the way over to Frank’s. I assume you’re staying a while. Got a place to live yet?”

“Well… I…”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll stay with me. One more question. What are you reading? What’s in the red book that has you so fascinated?”

“Well… *this*.” They reach a playground on the outskirts of town which Philip remembered from section 04.

He couldn’t resist recreating history. “Here, take Gus for a minute if you don’t mind.”

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January 20, 2025 · 6:09 pm

00450509 (25?)

Banned from my Nautilus homeland by an overprotective mother fearful of stalkers, suitcase in hand I walk just outside its boundaries and set my eyes and aim on the fabled wall city of Perch-Mistletoe just yonder up on that beige ridge, with half banned itself (Perch?) but the other 1/2 free to roam (Mistletoe?) and even live within as I currently understood the situation. But I ended up going further — to Yd Island in the sw of the continent and revisiting another sacred place that seems untouched and uneroded by the sands of time. That of the Ratzenburger Rabbit, one of my own. I get ahead of myself. I have to talk about Lexi front and center.

She drives up on her rough sounding, rough looking motorcycle basically at the beginning of my journey and soon we’ve joined forces in her quest to find what she simply called The One. “Wanna explore some haunted houses?” she propositions not far into the conversation. Why not? I thought. I have nothing to kill but time.

We started with the one with the barrel. Just on the opposite side of P-M from us. “Just ignore that giant candy sentry over there,” she said as we positioned ourselves a safe distance away from it. “He can’t see you unless you’re standing right under him. Learned that the hard way.” On my part, I was more worried about the suddenly darkness and the need for a flashlight to explore. This didn’t seem like a good omen but too late to back out. I consoled myself by saying that I’d be in the free part of Perch-Mistletoe by dawn’s early light, sleeping under a pagoda or something. Just over there beyond the wall.

And, yep, there was a barrel inside. Lexi seemed relieved that it “mostly contained–,” in her own words, seeming to break off at the end. Mostly contained *what?* I automatically thought upon hearing it. Finish your sentences please.

And then a little later the same thing came up. Pattern.

(to be continued)

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January 18, 2025 · 1:35 pm

00450507

In my dreams, I went back to our old homestead in the center left right upper lower portion of Nautilus, Lichen. It was in ruins but still standing. The land around it was barren; even fabled Mistletoe-Perch which resisted so much change before had faded and vanished. The homestead stood alone.

I went inside and found that barrel. We had some good times with that wine in that barrel, Lichen. Didn’t we?

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January 11, 2025 · 7:42 am

00450416 (a new high and low of it all 02)

He’d manifested it from below but he didn’t know what laid inside yet. The 420 attached to the outside that had rezzed in in the meantime seemed to be a type of warning. Frank lies within, the dismantler and then rearranger of Carrcassonnee to turn her into this sign. It had happened before, he knew. On her 420th birthday, now 4 years in the past. Time enough to turn the tables of power. He had the eye, the top of the pyramid, all seeing of course. Like Carrcassonnee *use* to be when she possessed it instead. Frank was after the eye all along, eye on the prize as it were. But what about Gus the fire demon caretaker which also must be present within in order for the giant moving castle to appear here in the first place? Time to find out. He looks for a door.

Yes, just on the other side here. He enters.

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January 7, 2025 · 3:02 pm

00450414 (a new high and low of it all)

Welp, there she goes again, thinks Newt, sipping on a recently procured nice cool lemonade drink courtesy of a boy named Bart. Back into the tunnel. Guess I better get back to the home base myself, start working on that skybox and maybe the rezzing of that larger version of Howl’s Moving Castle I have in my inventory. Must not forget the Yellow Guy. Or the Red Man or the Green Dude or the Blue Boy for that matter. “Frank’s Moving Mountain” which is kind of the same as “Howl’s Moving Castle” is a way to keep moving forward on that subject.

—–

On Wheeler’s (Shelley’s) part, when she’d finished with her jog, she went to visit the bar that inspired her own over at Conejo Island, which she hadn’t returned to in a while.

Things seemed different. Curious. She copies all copyable objects and brings them back home again to roost.

—–

“Yes!” she says to the bar underwater.

“Yes!” he exclaims to the castle in the sky.

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January 6, 2025 · 11:28 pm

00450413 (We are here (!))

Jeogeot’s only true inland sea. I’m not sure why I haven’t focused on it before, hmmm. It’s time has come I guess I’ll say presently to that thought.

Still in their matching Mr. Moon t-shirts, joint owners Newt and Wheeler ponder the meaning of milk and bread at the new location of Crooked. The TILE Manifesto is about to be studied in earnest, I feel.

A remaining question to be answered: will Wheeler’s Bulls Bar return at the place pictured above? It seems to be destiny in a way. The objects making up the bar are shared by Baker Bloch (Newt) and Wheeler, which makes it harder to store and transfer to a new location. The outside remains unfinished: just giant white and red cubes stuck together. Probably should just ditch it; go with interior alone. Especially since it’s such a scenic setting here.

part 2: parents

“Hey Newt?”

“Yes Wilson, er, Wheeler?”

“We need…”

“… to talk about Shelley, I know.” Pause. “Let’s let her finish her run first. There she is. Go Shelley!”

“Thanks!” she acknowledges through the transparent tunnel walls while continuing to motor along.

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January 6, 2025 · 7:41 am

00450412

“Susan was a goner, Fink. You essentially killed her with your attack at the beach. But you were only defending Jack, who would have gotten killed himself if you hadn’t intervened. If *Fern* hadn’t intervened. You first saw him — remember? — across Susan’s sprawled out body, his green matching your flesh, his square matching your round.”

“I remember,” said Fink. “I– didn’t mean to kill her.”

“*Told* you to control that freak-ish green arm better,” reprimanded Jack, then felt bad about it. “I mean, I guess you were defending me and all still.”

“I *was*.”

“*Anyway*,” said Princess Pinky Gumm, “I knew her essence could be put to better use than keeping her alive for another day or three at best until she succumbed to those obviously fatal injuries. So I used that energy, that essence to heal myself. Remember? I was possessed by The Lich. *I* wasn’t going to get any better.” Better her than me, Princess Pinky Gumm thought but didn’t say aloud. Was she 100% sure Susan wouldn’t recover? Actually: no. She had been selfish. Susan was a renegade cyborg killer, programming triggered by an electrical shock from a giant Acid River eel. But maybe, just maybe, she would have recovered. But that left the killer part intact still, she tried to rationalize. Yes, better her than me (for death), she reinforced to herself.

“How?” says Fink.

“I’m both a physicist and psychic trained at world esteemed Cal State, Fink. The answer would be too complicated for your meager brain to comprehend. Given you just made an F minus on what I would consider the easiest test on Earth.” Princess… Pink(y)… Gum(m), she reviews the glaringly obvious three-parter, and looks over at his blank, human face. So typical. At least fellow human Susan had killer written all over hers. After the eel. Kill or be killed, she thought once more. Yes, her complicated arrangement of physical-psychical interactions used for the transfer were justified.

(to be continued)

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January 5, 2025 · 10:30 pm

00450411

It was an unusual 3n1 that kind of became another 4n1 just later.

“Okay, *why* did you bring me to this table, Jack? Cool location, though,” he said, looking around. “Interesting tunnel over there.”

“Because he needed to show you something,” answered the woman for his cohort Jack Dogg, making him turn back and look at her again. Who was this? She seemed sorta familiar, Fink thought.

She lowered the menu she was holding.

“Nifty,” said Fink. “Appears, let’s see, you’re a princess?” He continued reading the revealed print on the shirt. “And— ‘you’re not’. Which means *I’m* not. And Jack’s not. Are you? Jack?”

“And she’s *pink*,” Jack finally piped up, ignoring Fink’s silly question to him. Because he’d given up that particular gig way back in ’72 after the Bra Wars ended. He leads on in the present: “She’s wearing pink; she’s a princess…”

“Okay, that’s nice I suppose.”

“One last thing,” she said after sighing. “I didn’t want to resort to this because I don’t like the sound it makes. But… here goes.”

*POP*.

“Wow,” says Fink. “That was pretty loud. But pretty awesome. Can I have some?”

“*No*,” answers Jack, growing understandably impatient. “Okay Fink, let’s put all this together. She’s a *princess*.”

“Right right.”

“And she’s *pink*.”

“Okay. Hey that’s kind of like…”

“Yes??” says expectant Jack.

“No, sorry. Lost it.”

“Gum, silly. Gum is the third and last clue. If you don’t—”

“Bubblegum.” His eyes grow even wider. “Princess Pinky Gumm!”

“Finally,” she said, taking the gum out of her mouth and throwing it in the direction of the tunnel. “Now that’s over you can ask questions. You scored an F minus on my little quiz, btw.”

“He he,” said bragging Jack. “I had it in two, hmph. D plus.”

“But… how?” says Fink, still staring at her in disbelief. Take away the pink and this looks nothing like the Candyland ruling Princess Pinky Gumm he knows and worships.

“I’ll tell you how.” It all had to do with Fern.

(to be continued)

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January 5, 2025 · 6:52 am

00450410 (Trevor/Philip)

Hmm, he thinks while driving toward his destination today. Lookie over there behind those silos. One of those plane shadows Frankie Boy was talking about that’s actually a bird. So they *are* real, hmph.

Welp, better get to my destination and do what I’m going to do today. Revenge is *soo* sweet, he he he.

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