Category Archives: Eveningwood

November 7, 2021 · 9:30 am

Borneo

He was back in Eveningwood. Dang, no papers left, he thought, staring over at the empty stand. Have to catch up with the news elsewhere, maybe that cafe, who was it — *Hidi* found earlier. Hidi who was White Mage, he knew now. His replacement in effect.

He joined the attached group and was able to move freely, once more, into the multi-sim city. Ultimately he knew he’d have to head back to the underground bar — and the bars — to pick up where he left off. but first…

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2021 EVEN LATER”!

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October 14, 2021 · 7:59 am

00290407

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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July 2, 2021 · 9:59 am

trail’s end

“Black and *gray*?” Alysha could hear Officer Brownstone yell from outside after absorbing Officer Taylorville’s correction. “Not black and *gay*?”

She had to act fast, as they would be all over new alien intrusion like flies on, um, honey. She could, she could steal this police motorcycle to delay their cause. No, she realized. Too extreme. She could, um, set boobietraps in the catacombs so they couldn’t use the shortcuts. No: too sexist. Deep inside she was a woman after all as well as an Asian. She’d just have to use the catacombs herself to get to the Fortress quickly and warn Ruby.

—–

She took a deep breath. All she had is 15 seconds to find Ruby, convince her that she was in danger, and then teleport the hell outta there to somewhere else, perhaps Collagesity but perhaps not. Anywhere safe for the time being. She decided any beige mountain ridge would do, because about all of it is abandoned land. Aah heck, let’s make it Collagesity, since that’s her home base. She begins dashing again, puff puff puff.

—–

“We have (*huff*), *three* seconds to get out of here to safety. “Two… one… too late.” But Alysha stayed where she was and wasn’t ejected from the property, potentially all the way back to home base. Ruby the green tinted gray grey nonchalantly rolled over in her sunlounge beside the heated pool and began to explain in her watery, alien voice. “We… turned off the security system as soon as we saw you run through the gate, young Alysha.”

“Young?” She couldn’t help herself. The woman deep inside demanded respect.

“The police have no power over us here. Do you even know where you are? I’ve… been searching for the Fortress for several weeks. Luckily my legs are very long and I made good time. Burt, also known as Brutus or Brut, met me at the gate, took me in. Just like we’re now taking *you* in. It’s been a long journey for you, hasn’t it? Fellow alien.”

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July 2, 2021 · 9:20 am

tale tale

“It’s the Fortress all right,” he im’ed Alysha remotely. “I’m standing directly beside 300 over in Eveningwood.” This is where Duncan A. entered the Sphere through Fieldon, he thinks to himself. This is where Marty probably followed him.  All the way to Borneo which wasn’t Borneo any longer. The Oracle — predicted this.

“I tried to get through the gates,” Alysha im’ed back, still in the northern Nautilus village with the one black and the one rumored gay. “15 sec ejection period.” She then leaned back against the cool stone of the well also pondering the next move but along different lines. The buildings were duplicates but — what did this mean?



Eveningwood


Northern Nautilus

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June 4, 2021 · 8:41 am

where’s the beef?

If we could just recreate the original crime scene. Pigeon roosting on ass; Amanda Stoorm placing an ultra important call to Buster Damm.

Call? Looks like we just did. Duncan Avocado brings it home.

—–

“I knew you’d be here, Ginger. Because of the face replacement clinic and all.”

“500 lindens for a whole new look. Worth every penny!”

“Yes, you look great, you look fantastic.” Could Duncan date a high class white chick like this and get away with it in this town, this place in the center of it all? It would be controversial. Maybe *he* should get an operation. He knows a certain Dr. of Mouse who might be able to help. He ponders the outcome, black to white. But is he running away from his heritage because of that? He’s *tired* of being discriminated upon, but he’s in the same boat with the rest of his color. He can’t date fair, red haired Wendy down at Mac’s Diner either for the same reason, that damn white racist rat Pansy watching over it all. If only he could get rid of the Pooping Pigeon franchise, maybe create a reality where Wendy branches out on her on, dumps the hot dog angle, and goes all in for burger. Pure Angus beef; not those ridiculous fillers for the dog like lips and genitalia, even if that isn’t quite true. People could be trained to *think* that.

And that’s what he decided that day in the late of May or early June or whatever. Kill the Hot Dog, stick a pigeon on its rump and call it done. Killer Andrea Stoorm, trained in the Death Star battalions, knew what to do, Buster guiding her and then Buster telling Duncan what actually happened. “We manipulated probabilities in that Middletown alley that day in early May.” “June,” I corrected, but understood it all now. There was only one actual killing, the other 5 being deflections or subterfuge. Although it still thrived in other realities, in this one the Pooping Pigeon was over almost before it started, with Pansy behind bars behind a bar instead.

“What’ll it be Duncan, my man?” Always the “man” for the black dude, he observed. But at least he still played his old music here.

And now: Hidi.

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May 20, 2021 · 9:41 am

behind again

“In-tro-DUC-innnnnnng…”

Wheeler/Hidi stared at the drugs on the table and realized it was just money. Constraints of time, power, and that other thing they don’t talk about much any more, not after Kolya. Damaged goods he was. She must not touch, she says once again in her mind to reinforce. There was a 2 shaped hole in his head where the rain gets in. Marty knows; Marty may have even created. “Fiftysix,” she says aloud to know one. “They had to stop at fiftysix.”

Duncan returns from the bar with 2 drinks. Duncan said he’d never ever come back to this town, this Eveningwood that would one day become so central to Our Second Lyfe that they decided to rename it Middle: Middletown, a basically endless megalopolis that one could get lost in forever. Fractal. You have to find a path through it or else, doomed. Duncan knew this. Duncan had a path; he had almost worked out all the details. Labeling will begin soon. He knows that The Fortress is at the end, but he doesn’t know what’s inside. It all terminates at The Fortress.

Hidi has her drink. Duncan sits down with his. They have more to talk about tonight besides Middletown, fiftysix, Kolya.

“Who’s going to come through the black curtains, Duncan,” she spoke after a couple of sips of her whiskey on the rocks. “I thought it would be you.” She looks over at his blackness and sees it is good. He looks over at her whiteness: also good.

“Well, I thought it was going to be you, obviously. But you were already here when I arrived, sitting on that couch.”

“And you at the bar.” She ponders further, as she hears the metallic sound of a gate opening. A red complexioned Asian Indian then comes through the curtains, beckoning them to follow. At the beginning of a tunnel just behind, he then tells Duncan he must go back, his path through the beginnings of Middletown at least temporarily blocked.

He returns alone from the bars to whence he came.

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May 19, 2021 · 5:55 am

time barrier (morning to evening)

“These are powerful people,” spoke Buster in my head. “They control *portals*. Portals between realities. And once you cross the line you may not know which is which.” Wise words from a small vampire man, still living in VHC City near Duncan for all I know. Still frequenting that bakery where Duncan was inducted into Pot-D, until the cursed, bloody Yelloo sun comes up at least. Give him the light and dark side of the moon any time. Give him money procured from criminal actions deep in darkness and shadows. Give him… well, we’ll leave out the third. In fact we’ll chuck the whole dark triad, for Buster Damm is now full of light and goodness, thanks to the blood transfusions combined with the positive energy of Pot-D itself. Yes, the story of our small vampire friend, best buddies with fellow and much larger (or regularly shaped) vampire Pitch Darkly, will have a happy ending. He has his wife Betty now, who can appear tiny, like him, but also larger — to allow the couple freedom to move about in the world of regular joes and josettes — are also born again TILISTS. They’d studied the sinks of Maebaleia and other continents extensively. They’re convinced of the 3d hyperspin of Maebaliea and Jeogeot separate from the rest of Their Second Lyves to create the sinks in the first place. And above and beyond this, roosting on it like a demented OWL… but I’ve said too much here. ROOST is key.

—–

What did Duncan see on the other side of the 300? He observed the observer, almost hidden in a small wood of trees behind a barrel here.

He had dominion over his compact, changeable kingdom-queendom at 200 E Locust, he and his wife. But the wife also observes, 2 1/2 years in the past, an overturned chair on a porch just to the west. The lawn deer’s baby has moved back into its womb. Stars appear.


May 2018


Dec 2015

And a blue sphere moves from one side of a small garden space to the other to emphasize its importance. I think we know what *this* means.

Better shot of the observer.

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May 18, 2021 · 8:53 am

knowing your place

“Well I must say that was certainly an interesting game of pool we just played (!). How’s your, aherm, back doing Marty?”

“Fine, fine. Just need to stretch it out.” Marty had never tried something like this. “How’s your beer holding out?” he says, turning. “Smoking and drinking at once, I see?”

“Yeah.” He looks over at the dizzying megalopolis outside the skybox window. “Middletown, pheh. Who knew it was going to grow so big.”

“Yes, we’re on the edge all right…”

“Of something *big*”

Duncan looks on, unseen and unamused. “You choose the medium you have,” he can hear Buster in his head, clear as rain, “and you have the medium you choose. Roger and Marty aren’t *lovers* per se. It’s all symbolic past the clue.”

“Fiftysix,” Duncan says aloud for no one to hear. “Paul’s switch.”

Better get back and prepare food for George, he realized, looking at the time.

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May 17, 2021 · 9:09 am

even oddballs

“Maybe *this* is what I need in NWES City. A Penny Lane style magic shop. Or mystic shop. Whaddaya say, Marty?”

“Roger. We’re here to talk about my death. Right over there.” Marty points to the chair at the window where he was stabbed in the heart and bled out only the night before in this central Eveningwood location. So central, so *middle*. In the future if not now, the town will be called that because of its sensual nature. Middletown, with any sign of Eveningwood swept away as in a raging fire or something. But for now the signs remain. Clues and signs.

“You *know* why we’re here Roger. Evening out.”

“Right: takes two to know. What, er, does the book say? About the spell. Can you reverse (the murder)?”

“It says: look in the beech grove for the answers you seek. Marg will be waiting.” Marty looks up at Roger. “Marg? Like in the game? I *killed* Marg.”

“No,” corrected Roger Pine Ridge opposite him at the fortune teller’s table. “You said Marg killed everyone else, including the ragamuffin — I think.”

“That’s not true.” Marty puts hand to chin in thinking mode. He tries to remember the order of things. Marg bludgeons Homer with her purse, then, yes, *kills* Boss Burns, then Willy comes up, steals the purse, and goes on his own murderous rampage. Marty puts down the book. “We’re looking for a man named Willy, then. He may go by Willard.”

“George?” spoke Roger back, knowing the name.

—-

With this, they head back to the Blue Feather in Collagesity to study the table in preparation for future actions.

“We’ve left Merry Gouldbusk, Eraserhead Man, Barry De Boy back in the dust. Looming ahead are both Sandy Beech and Buster Damm at 58.”

“Duncan will never allow us to reach Buster together. We’ll have to stop before that. Don’t want to anger him! No telling what powers he has now. He’s at least 2 nights ahead of us in the search.”

“For… Yelloo.”

“Exactly Mr. Roger Pine Ridge, my fellow 54.”

“For now.”

“Let’s agree, then, to stop at 57.”

“Make it 56,” Roger urged, knowing a bit more in this area. They bickered on it. They settled on it. [Delete number] it is.

(to be continued)

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May 17, 2021 · 7:21 am

having a hoot

“Look out below! Coming down,” he continued while sliding.

“Made it I see,” Marty greeted him nonchalantly. “My new personal shadow.”

Roger Pine Ridge walked over. “Whatchadoing?”

Marty has wife Marg bludgeon Homer with a weighted purse to begin, then answers. “Trying, ahem (death of Boss Burns now with purse), to figure out the clue Duncan Avocado got from this game.”

“Duncan *who*?”

“Avocado.” Marty has Willy walk up to Marg and belch in her face, then steal her deadly purse and kill Mo the bartender with it. Quick as a wink.

“Well I say. Listen, how much longer are you going to be here? In this, er, *firehouse*?”

“I am the fireman,” Marty states plainly. “As long as I wish — this is my project.” Death to Principle Poop now.

“O-kay.” Roger Pine Ridge tries to decide how to exit gracefully from this awkward situation. He was tailing Marty to this Eveningwood place, true, but didn’t expect him to be engrossed in anything like this, and declare it was totally a situation of his concoction and that he had everything under control. Fires rage outside! But here he was, cool and calm and collected, like it was pouring down rain all over the countryside.

“Just — gotta — find — the ragamuffin.” Many bleeping noises now. “*There*” Skateboarding Bart Smipson got run over by a doughnut truck headed to Homer’s.

—–

Roger Pine Ridge decides to wait on the roof. Everything seemed familiar. He stares out at the Eveningwood cityscape realizing there were were no raging fires and that Marty was right and he had everything under control, at least here. The light side of the moon rose over the horizon. Yes, must have been a trace of that brain damage he feared so much, the other, thought-to-be-left-behind Roger leaking in a bit.

Marty beams up, beaming. “Found it!”

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