Category Archives: Estate

Dream Book

Kick-ass Bogota gets valuable information from an ur-parent and relays later to Axis-Windmill in Horns of Hatton.

—–

“I’m trying to reclaim the messed up 5th. You know Messed Up, don’t you Kick-ass?”

“My *brother* does. A different Kick-ass…”

“… for a different season, yes. You are… unformed… yourself.”

Kick-ass Bogota thought about this for a minute, then said: “You have been uninformed about this. I am instead *uniformed*, as in decorated, as in ace pilot of the 1st World Wide Web War.” He knocks on his forehead with this, pure metal revealed by the clunks.

“Faulkner, then.”

“Maybe,” he shot back quickly, then looked out the window at the surrounding chaos. Unformed, uninformed, uniformed. Brother Kick-ass would switch signs with him later in the night so he could talk more with Axis-Windmill at the Horns bar where they now meet regularly. Lichen Roosevelt is usually there, serving up drinks behind the bar. The Mann is *always* there. Taking notes, most likely. And who is that he spies (at the time) in the back. Green like him, at least in the shirt. And those apples…

—–

“It’s time you got away don’t you think. You’re only *Kind of* Messed Up.”

Kind Of Messed Up takes a sip of his drink and mulls this over. Junbug does the same with her Bombs Away.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0415, Abbey^^, Horns of Hatton^, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Yaya Land

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This is what she studies, Duncan, this *Rose* Wells. Boxes… cubes I suppose.

“Borneo?” He’d heard that name before. Something about corn.

—–

The blue sphere appears. Duncan disappears. Duncan saw too much in the field! Field “on”, and then he was there — in Reality — beyond the 300 or starting with the 300. Fieldon town limits.

The 2 blue spheres were 2 1/2 years apart, meaning that they were opposite each other — in the garden representing our solar system or an Earth limited one, with The Sun in the center (19). And what about The Observer there, watching from a table on the edge of the property? Fortress: Duncan was warned not to go back, and that maybe rats were there, perhaps similar to the ones within the tulips that make them move in oh so mysterious ways.

He was trying to mark the way (to the Fortress) with well placed toys. But they were not allowed here? White moves on beyond Black (Duncan) with Red, with Red obviously equaling Indian Wells now, both Asian and American at once. White Mage, in this scenario, is merely Hidi again.

“Primary Rabbit?” he asks, back at the home with the mannequins out front.

“Yesss?”

“I think… I’m ready to move beyond Black.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0407, Bellisaria^^, Blue Feather Sea^, Eveningwood, Illinois, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Yaya Land

like corn

—–

It was a Red Land, mix in a bit of yellow (“Yelloo!”), a kinder, gentler Axis for the modern agogo world of yesterday’s tomorrow, mix in a little propeller (whirl, whirl whirl!). Okay, let’s ditch the propeller cap actually. Here he is.

Bit of midriff showing but we’re working on it: we’ve called him Windmill Man, as he stands at the bottom of another Diagonal that acts as the axis for the Chalet subcontinent of Bellisaria. Bellisseria. This is the path to FREEDOM, starting at Brady Stream. I check nightly for name changes to the surrounding base sims.

The Diagonal moves upwards beyond Bellisaria into the Maebaleia continent, almost as hard to spell. And this is where we must begin tonight, because new things are happening in Cassandra — just off this Diagonal or affected by its energy. Developments continue…

It was a poor, shivering girl indicating that lawnmower guy Jacob I. was still alive and awake and kicking like a little baby here. Somewhere. Thank you. I said: thank you. Watch out! (swerve at last second)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0106, Bellisaria^^, Cassandra City^, Lower Austra^, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Nautilus^^, Yaya Land

Carrcassonnee: a little batty

“We’ve got to get you back to Collagesity and remove Perch and see what went wrong!”

“IIIIIIIIIIIII.”

END OF “SUNKLANDS PHOTO-NOVEL 28″!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0616, Paper Soap

six and seven

She woke up with her mission. Go through the SOS flea market toward the plane. Find the hole in the fence and turn left. Therein lies the answer to everything, or at least 42. What’s within will not be what it seems.

—–

The plane, check. But not the flea market before her. The cat on a nearby plank of wood meowed an answer but it was not 42. Something about dinner time being only 2 hours or so away now. Useless for her, although encouraging for the cat. She moves right, since left is…

… hold on.

In the secret basement lair of the large house to her left, biggest in town:

Only 2 hours till dinner time, thinks Greg Ogden with exactly the right number of G’s in his name. Better change.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0613, Paper Soap

00280608

“I’m so sleeepy, Hoppy. Must be the place. Oops.

“There I go again, geez. Can’t — stop — yaawninnnngg *Zzzzzzzzz*.”

—–

He could hear his mother calling from across the schoolyard. “Her-BERT?! Herbert DUNE! YOU come HERE right this *INSTANT*.” It was the call for dinner. He wasn’t going to budge from this hollowed out tree. He liked the swing here; no one bothered him. Oh, Martha Ram would sometimes come out on her porch and look his way, wondering if he was mere shadow or actual man-boy. But that was about all. Squirrels maybe. “Her-BERT!” Mom could search and search and couldn’t find him here. He was about ready to escape. “Her- BERRRRRRRRT!”

—–

He woke up, looked over at the swing. A bear reared up in the distance behind it, complaining to another bear about him finding too many fish to eat.

He wondered if he was still dreaming, since he usually doesn’t understand Bear language. Now he’s saying he feels emasculated because of it. Strange — not what you’d think a bear would say.

“You’ve been talking to us a lot,” suddenly piped up Hoppy still in front of him, ears flopping here and there. “We’ve decided to talk *back*.”

Herbert decides to pinch himself. Didn’t work!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0608, Nautilus^^, Paper Soap, Rooster's Peninsula

switch (again)

She stayed back, hesitant, while he moved forward, bold and brash and most likely naive. Poor Kolya, she thought. He can’t see the Overlord right in front of his face. He’d been warned (*sip*).

He was happy with his refreshed lemonade in the moment and had no other concerns. He doesn’t recall anything about the operation, she thinks. The holes still exist, although certainly not glorious any longer. He remains (dot dot dot) damaged goods.

There was only one thing for it. Another ring.

“Yelloo?”

“Herbert. It’s me.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0606, Yaya Land

BoB

“I’m not dead!” he cried to all those sitting around the grave site looking down. “It’s *just* a ring.”

It all came together at the end for Mouse. Too late, of course.

—–

“So this is it,” Man About Time exclaimed mildly. As usual. “The thing that did him in.”

“LOVE, yeah,” answered Jeffrey Phillips, wondering how he himself could talk again. He died as well (!). “He… couldn’t pass through the O, got stuck in it. Spy Guy Benjamin tried to help, but…”

“… got stuck himself,” completed MAT for Jeffrey, having read the story up to this point too. What was the point? Just close the damn coffin lid why don’t you.

“He can’t die in Vain.”

“He didn’t,” answered MAT truthfully.

“Good for you, MAT,” said Jeffrey Phillips. “I didn’t think you would take this so swell.”

“It’s just a game. Endtime.”

“Yes, death will do that to you. Lure you in, like a fish. And when you land on the shore — it’s *only* when you land on the shore…”

“You see the water,” completed MAT again.

—–

Next door (sometime in the past):

They say the doctor before this new one, Jr. — he was married to an alien woman. Found her spaceship crashed up in the hills.”

“That’s — not — right,” the littler golden robot squeaked back.

“You’re right, Jr. It *wasn’t* right. He should have turned her *in*. And now he’s paid the price: banishment. *Now*, are you ready to go inside and let the new doctor, this Diper fellow, take a look at those gold plated tonsils?”

“Guess — so.”

“You guess so.” Claude Sr. blew out air from his mechanical lungs. “I had mine taken out about the same age as you are, in fact, the exact same age.”

“12 — I — know.”

“That’s right, Jr. 12. All mechanoids have to have their original tonsils taken out, then. Else: viruses.”

“I — read — the pamphlets.”

“Nice.” But Claude Sr. knew it wasn’t tonsils that were taken out. The pamphlets lied. He’d find out soon enough. Just like with Santa Claude.

They head inside for the operation.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0603, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, Paper Soap

scenes from a hat

He woke up in a fetal position on top of yet another fox. She spoke without turning from the even redder couch, wearing an even redder dress.

“How dare you think you can come to the White Palace in the skies and not alert *me*.”

He was groggy. He couldn’t make out exactly what was said. He raised up off of the plush fox, so soft. Like a blanket. He wanted to sleep forever, he realized. But… he must remain alert. Danger! He recalls: danger.

“You can leave Sepisexton,” she spoke over to the robot guard more in the background. “I want to talk to the *boy* alone.”

——

“It was always destiny that I come to this Misty MO and find love, Hucka.”

“Hucka?” He wakes.

“Charlene.”

Groggily; just waking up as well: “Yes?”

—–

“Okay you must tell me what you did with Jeffrey Phillips, shirt-less boy. *Now*.”

The green door opened. A presence was there.

—–

Trying to ignore rats, Dr. Mouse stands before the green door. The green phone on the front desk rings. It’s Claude.

—–

Geez I think my ears are ruptured.

There. It’s fixed.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0602, MISTY MO^^, Paper Soap, Teepot^^, White Palace

Asylum

Guy Benjamin carefully checks the mailbox for explosives before continuing to move in.

He plans to stay here for a while, despite the dangers. Because he’s in hiding again.

Yes this will do I suppose, he thinks. But the animations in the house *suck*.

I guess that’s the point, though. No energy to detect up here in the skies. Blanket silence.

Oh no. Another picture of Foxtrot above the head of the bed. But this one’s crooked. I’ll just get up here and straight– OH NO!!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0601, Paper Soap, White Palace