Category Archives: Bellisaria

end 05

They continued to talk while Herbert Gold, dead again, danced frantically at the bus station in the background, obviously in a dream trance. Tessa looked over, convinced that grandpa finally wasn’t going to come back this time. Platinum through and through he was now, with wife April Mae (not related to Tessa except through marriage) truly a widow. The vision made her point more important.

“We *must* set aside differences to explore what remains of Our Second Life, gentleman.” Tessa was wise now, thanks to what happened in Bellisaria, which we’ll get to in a minute. “North — South — it doesn’t matter. Whatever is left of the World of Lemon must be chronicled as best as possible while there’s still time to find traces of it here and there.” She indicated the surroundings with her hand. “Like right here in RustpORt in Heterocera’s Pond District. Why the OR emphasized in the name to highlight the sim here (Or)? Why the water levels at 65 instead of the regular 20 — an anomaly common in this area? Such broad mysteries, ready to be explored, must not remain unanswered or our overall mission has failed. Gentlemen, this is the test, the challenge. Lay down your arms. Stop bickering and look all around you — observe. The fight you have is small compared to what lies all around. There are still *traces*. Traces can be used to sketch out a broader picture. You *must*–”

“Yes, I know, I know. My military style knife must go,” butted in Jer Left Horn to her immediate left. “TronAxis’ *frisbee* must go. ”

“How *dare* you,” Axis to his left returned. But with a smile now. Indeed the child before them had warmed their hearts, opened their minds with her stories and information. The Bellisaria island she stayed on after leaving the cave system the key to seeing Our Second Lyfe as a globe, a sphere? Incredible! Pode and Anti-Pode: it was the only place — well, the south slice of the island that lay in the sim of Grote — to resonate with land on the opposite side of this world. New Amsterdam revealed, which then became New York but bombed back to New Amsterdam conditions in the year… well, better not reveal that yet. I’ll let Rebl do it later on, who is the same as Parasol. Shame she couldn’t join these avatars in Or for the end of the current Collagesity photo-novel.

Oh wait. There she is.

“1926,” she answered cryptically to the camera, still with one red and one blue eye. The underwater operation was a success. Or was it a complete failure?

END OF “COLLAGESITY 2019-2020 WINTER”!

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Bellisaria 02

It was already night. She needed to bed down for a while. She decided to approach one of the innumerable Victorian houses near the railroad to get information if possible, perhaps beg for a place to rest. Just a while, she rehearsed. Just to get my bearings. She was choosing realities just on instinct. Good.

Then Tessa spotted what she thought was a lake behind the house and went there instead, noting the bridges on opposite sides of it, about equidistant from each other from this vantage point. She sat down to meditate on the subject. She later learned her lake was actually an estuary, lying between mainland here and a queer, curly island over there. Eventually the name of the island, for her, became Curly-Cue, usually shortened when writing to Curly-Q. She also understood the Q stood for Queer, because it was.

3 other islands existed in a small archipelago with queer Curly-Q: one almost as large but much more regularly shaped; another, also curly shaped but simpler — not as bendy-twisty — and about as large relative to the second as the second is to the first; then the smallest, about 1/4the the size of the 3rd largest and containing no houses atall unlike the others. That was the one that she eventually chose as “home” in this strange land beyond the cave system she had stumbled and bumbled upon by accident, just by sticking to the tracks and thinking she could never get in trouble that way. She wasn’t as lucky as fellow cave dweller Guyd, then. Because Guyd avoided the tracks.

There was no need to look further.


“Home”

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Bellisaria

She walked and walked, further than ever until the one track became two, as it always was. And always will be. She sat down in the middle of the split to remember who she was/is/will be.

I am Tessa from in or near Twin Peaks, she told herself. Old and yet young here. Between the red and yellow in front of me…

… and the blue and green behind.

Split. Like realities.

She will not move until someone comes and helps her choose.

But then a scary bug appears beside her and makes her choose anyway. “Shite!” she exclaims while jumping off the bench onto the wrong track.

The year: ’42. She heard distant bugles. A faint smell of burnt copper was in the air. She knows which reality she’s in. And it’s not the right one. The Realm of Fear.

End of Time was a *sanctuary* she realized. Once she stepped back in the light, all was exposed for what it is.

But she must forget all this and get back to the cave. It was only an experiment, see, a dream even. Trouble is, she was heading the wrong way.

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new

“12:37, dear. Time to go.”

—–

The Arkansas meeting, the restored Wheeler thinks just down from the Table Room with her one blue eye and one brown eye. It’s finally here. She wanted to cuss “Bellisaria” but held her tongue.

—–

“Wheeler,” The Man About Time explained….

… then shifted to the next “wheel” sim of Our Second Lyfe, the second of three.

“Wheelhouse,” he then pronounced. “Complete opposite side of continent, northern edge instead of what’s now the southern edge, at least currently. We must act fast!”

“Or else… what?” Baker Bloch queried. “The wheel is, er, *broken*?” No one had said hello to Wheeler. She’d arrived late and missed the similarly paired displays of sims Humansville and Edgar (on opposite sides of a Bellisarian “island”, with Edgar denoting Uncle Joe as TMAT explained), Decker and Deckard (only 2 “deck” sims currently in Our Second Lyfe, directly n. and s. of each other and with Decker next to Wheeler), and Squished Starfish and Squishy Squid (2 of 4 “squish” sims, and again directly n. and s. of each other, with the latter positioned just beneath Humansville this time; more reinforcement).

Baker Bloch unglued his monochromatic eyes from the picture and turned to the newcomer of the group. “Wheeler, you getting all this? Wheel… Wheeler. That means you are involved. *Directly*.”

“Yes,” The Man About Time sitting opposite him quickly followed.

“We have enough evidence already to determine that,” Baker added.

Wheeler decided to insert a joke here. “Game, erm, *over* then?”

Our Second Lyfe winked out.

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lime lemon (orange) apple

It’s the first artwork he encountered when entering House Greenup. Lemons and limes again, staring him right in the face. And eyes… The Man About Time is reminded that a sim called Residentia exists beside the Humansville one he just examined today. Our Second Lyfe, which now includes the newest continent of Bellisaria with its Humansville, Residentia, and many more sims, is inhabited by Residents according to Linden definitions. *The* Residents are an experimental rock group who disguise their identity through giant eyeball masks. One wonders if Philip Rosedale, creator of Our Second Lyfe, had them in mind when applying this specific name to the inhabitants of his realm. After all, both hail from the streets of San Francisco. But I digress…

7 Stones townspeople have a decision to make soon. Whether to keep the separated groundside galleries of House Greenup, SoSo, and Gallery Jack holding the entire “Art 10×10” of 100 collages baker b. produced between 2004 and 2009, or whether to combine the 3 galleries into a skybox (literally in this case: a box in the sky) traditionally called the Edwardston Station Gallery, dating back to 2009 and the end of the series. The Man About Time has an important vote in the matter. He doesn’t take citizenship — *residency* — in the virtual village lightly. It’s an honor to be here, he says to town owners Baker Bloch and Baker Blinker the next Wednesday after the third Monday of the month, when he paid his first rent for a Kidd Tower apartment. Almost at the very top: how lucky was he? Only [delete name] lives above him and [delete name] is rarely at home. But, then again, the Man About Time is out and about a lot as well. Best to cast his vote today, before something else comes up in Bellisaria, etc., that demands his immediate attention, past present or future. Thus the visit to House Greenup today, and, afterwards, Gallery Jack, SoSo, and then up in the sky to see the whole displayed in ESG.

But in staring around at the other collages hanging in the lower floor of House Greenup after ungluing his eyes from the first (which is actually the last: Greenup 20 instead of Greenup 01, although they make an animation with each other and The Man About Time is not the first visitor to make this last-for-first mistake), he’s already made up his mind basically. This house should stay, which means, domino effect, that SoSo must stay which means that Gallery Jack must stay.

“Ahh. ‘Floydada’,” coos The Man About Time after walking around the stairs. “What I’ve been looking for.”

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10th (Danny’s Abode)

Game over, already? Aww. And I was just starting to enjoy myself.

—–

I’ve got to get on it and start to clean up this place, thought handyman Danny Pajamy after the fact, Mr. Clean outside his humble abode but totally slack within. Bob Dobbs would be proud.

Keys jingle somewhere — perhaps on the video he left, um, running? Then they jingle *again*. Someone… someone at the door! he thinks in a panic, remembering what just happened.

Yeah, cleaning. That’s what he’s doing. Cleaning.

“Hellooo? Anybody home?”

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to prove you’re human

The continent is a wheel, The Man About Time thinks on the upstairs balcony of the 9th house he tried. Success finally? But 12:37: *time* for dinner.

—–

So I’ve marked that place with the filling recipe. You *still* want the apple pie, don’t you dear? ‘Cause I’m going to a lot of trouble with this.” She calls over while still washing her hands. “Dear? (pause) *Dear??*”

“Oh, sorry.” He looks down at the place setting and the contents. Apparently I’ll just do with the one apple right now, he thinks to himself, but says: “Sure. Er, since you’ve gone to all the trouble to find the recipe and all.” He again stares over at the lemon and lime on the far table.

The lemon and lime stared back at him.

“Um, *dear*?”

“Yes, husband of mine?” She was washing the last fingers.

“Do we still have that copy of ‘Floydada’ laying around somewhere?”

“Floy-*whata*?” She finally turns. It was then that Newtonia Kashkow realized the man sitting at the table with all the apples wasn’t her husband atall.

—-

“And *stay* out!” SLAM.

Oh well. On to the 10th!

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Jim K.

“Aww *man*. And I was just getting use to the cackling…”

—-

“Humansville,” Baker Bloch spoke to the freshly landed Hucka Doobie beside him. “Must mean *something*.”

“Yeah,” said the bee person, staring around. “Should I take a seat? Will this take *long*?”

“No. Shouldn’t,” a mildly disappointed Baker Bloch responded, hoping to encounter more enthusiasm from his best and oldest friend. Besides Baker Blinker of course, who really doesn’t count.

“I’ll take one anyway,” Hucka Doobie stated, knowing Baker Bloch like she did. This might take a short time, but probably not short enough. Best to take it all in while reclining. “I wonder if there’s any objects offering drinks around here?” she then queries after sitting.

“Um. Unsure.”

They both scan the area now, with nothing that looks like a drink machine or dispenser around. “So… this is the new continent,” Hucka speaks after the pause, licking her lips at the same time. So dry.

“Yeah. Bellisaria.”

“Queer name. I wonder how they came up with it?”

“And sims like *Humansville*. On the opposite side of Polk County from Gold… *Tin*.”

“Tin Town, yeah. I see. Like the first post of… is this the new novel?”

“Suppose it has to be, Hucka D. *We’re* here. Talking.”

“Doesn’t have to be. We could just be chatting off the record, as it were. How do you determine what is a legitimate post and what is not? A metaphysical question, I know, but, after all, I’m the spiritual guru for the blog. I’ve been around a long time. Over a decade.”

“I know you have, Hucka Doobie. And I thank you for your service to the blog. It has been *invaluable*.”

“Thank you. Good to be appreciated.” She licks her lips again. “But I don’t think there’s anything *per se* in this Humansville. No Uncle Joe (laugh), no Aunt Zoe (chuckle).”

“When did you start laughing parenthetically, Hucka?”

A sound happened behind them. Keys jiggling. Someone was trying to open a door. “Who’s that?” she asks before turning.

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Unbloched

“Green hand light, Musician. Timmy’s side is in control.

No stopping now.”

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