“We’ll figure it out, Axis, er, Tropp. Umm.” He was truly stuck in the middle and 1/2 and 1/2 (sorry!).
Category Archives: Hana Lei^^
“This place reminds me that we need to check in on Roger Pine Ridge back in Iris, Hucka Doobie. I wonder if he still has that Indigo child’s sphere; perhaps putting it on when he wants to know about all the secrets of the world.”
“This place reminds *me* that we have our own underwater world — alongside Roger’s.” Do you see how I’m posing, she thinks, striking another one. Can you see me atall?
“I guess we better move along, Hucka Doobie. Enjoy the rest of the show.”
She stands up, tired of the talk for tonight. “You go ahead without me. I’ll catch up with you at Sunklands.” She disappears.
Baker is left alone to explore the fabulous Indigo Waters sim pointed out to him by friend Veyot. But he doesn’t mind since the dazzling sights are such a distraction.
“It’s a good strawberry shake. I wish we could have enjoyed such a shake while growing up.”
“What do you mean?” asked Poetry, truly confused in the moment.
Parasol changed, staring sideways at… “What did you say the name of that movie was?”
“‘Hot Rod Girl,'” Poetry said, not noticing the change and responding to earlier conversation.
“Another thing I could not enjoy.”
Poetry noticed the change.
She was trying to determine an exact year here in this place. “Hot Rod Girl”: she remembered that film from the early 60’s — maybe late 50s. But she wasn’t allowed to go to such a racy flick. Some said there was a bit of nudity involved (!).
A black lady in the nearby pink diner. Black people are not allowed in this diner. Not in the early 60s, and certainly not in the late 50s. She gathered she was about 18 or so, or about the same age as herself. Her profile picks led Poetry to this sign which she also didn’t understand, being from the past and all. A relic.
Well of course Black Lives Matter, thought Poetry at the time. That’s why we made them separate but equal (!). She wanders into the gallery of the woman, named Eight. Was Eight code for a gang member? A revolutionary? She’d heard of such people. The single name of a letter or a number came to her mind. She was becoming more ensconced in time. 1921 may be next…
She was looking for particular evidence that would support her now outdated slant on reality. Could she snap out of it?
The jazz and beatnik club known as The Dive was actually just a front for the numbers station in a secret room below the establishment. An old bomb shelter. Charlie Banana became humanized after being successfully contacted by Poetry Dancer. They listened to the artful tunes of D.J. Marty, still intent on finding out whether Yoko was a good or bad witch. We’d determined that Mid-Hazel was the real manipulator behind the scenes. Another All the Numbers situation, most likely. He played his Pepper album both forwards and backwards at once to attempt to create a third, higher perspective. Lt. Salt entered the club and
killed them all bought them all drinks. It was an unexpected result.
Okay, she’d finally found something that interested her in the past. A numbers station, broadcasting all the figures. She could call somebody! She first thought of Charlie Banana, an old lover. Good ol’ Charlie. Peach of a guy. But then a Siamese cat suddenly landed on the table from somewhere on high and talked to her instead. Wrong Charlie contacted (mentally). He said she’d missed something in Paperville and that she needed to return. Thinking the cat meant her blue-green shoes, she stated to it she’d already retrieved them, and plopped them on the table in front of him to gander at. As you can see, she’d also bought a matching dress in the meantime to fit in better with the past all around her.
Was it the shoes? the God-like cat thought, still ready to fill a void if need. But now Axis was in control of Paperville. Poetry Dancer here’s brother, or maybe former brother. And then there’s lover Barry X. Vampire. She desires the past, though. Charlie Banana. All the numbers. He better say the shoes were what he was thinking of and take his leave; regroup; try to find another angle (of communication). The past is the past, though. No changing or altering it. That’s why he doesn’t like to go there — here. No malleability; he likes malleability. Change. Flow. The Siamese cat takes its leave.
“I’ll leave you with the other Charlie,” it said/meowed/purred to Poetry. “It’s my mistake; that was the Charlie you desired in the moment. Not me. My bad,” it apologized again, and then wondered if he was overdoing it.
Charlie poofed out. Another Charlie poofed in. All the numbers.
“Hi doll baby.”
“I don’t guess I’ll ever go back, Wheeler. It’s all too *embarrassing*.”
“Oh snap *out* of it. Let’s get some pictures of these blue buggers and get outta here.”
And next time we travel together brush your *teeth* why don’t you!”
A mystery, Wheeler. One of the Blue Tinkers has disappeared while trying to open a Coke. This must be the work of…”
“*Peppi*” both exclaim together.
With the at least temporary “failure” of a a storyline to develop in Southwest (Corsica), Baker Bloch decides he better expand his range, check out more links from others also involved in Our Second Lyfe. This eventually leads him to the Blue Tinker Group of the Gemini Paradise sim thanks to this post in the” Exploring Second Life with Annie” blog. The little Blue Tinker peoples inhabiting the place reminded him of Opp’s blue Mmmmmm’s origin, and also the retention of same by Grassy Noll, who, unlike Opp, never “evolved” beyond that toy state, let’s call it. Are the Blue Tinkers likewise toy avatars? He though it would be worth his time to check.
Ahh, the first one encountered.
He takes the teleport beside him (or her) to what’s called the Arkon River. More of a small stream, but here’s the source.
The name Arkon, through Akron, reminds Baker Bloch of marbles. *Mmmmmm’s* remind him of marbles. Interesting triangle of ideas. Perhaps we should get back to Yoko Ona soon over in the Heartsdale sim to see how she befriends (or disenchants?) Cindy A. and gets her to join the A.Team also involving a triangle, avatars all with the last name, or initial, of A.: Jim A., Cindy A., Todd A. in case you’ve forgotten (and you probably have). For some reason Yoko, who admits to being a witch by this point, sets this team up in Cassandra City in the Deep South of the Maebalelia/Satori continent to created a murderous rocket that will tilt the raging North-South War of the continent in the South’s favor. Yes, we should get back to Heartsdale to continue expanding that storyline. Also perhaps return to Cassandra City — see what’s changed and maybe been improved upon since photo-novel 15 when we last visited it.
Baker Bloch also thinks it interesting that he stumbled upon this Gemini Paradise in June, and on his RL wife’s birthday (he being baker b. in real life, split into an animus-anima pair called Baker Bloch and Baker Blinker in Our Second Lyfe). Time-wise, we’re right smack in the middle of the Gemini sign now. And my own birthday, as baker b. again, is only 3 more days away. And we are soooo Geminis in RL. Again, all this exploring and playing in OSL seems to have a pattern and not be mere randomness.
“I wanted to bring you here, Hucka Doobie, to show you where John and I use to meet to go to our various hangouts. Before he became — well, you know now.”
“Solid lime green,” responded Hucka, recalling the meeting. “Lemon”.
“Yeah, the whole *blurring* of the n’s. Like we can’t see properly. And we *can’t*. John is lost to me. But *here*. We could go back…”
“To go back is to die, Marty,” the resident Sunklands blog spirit offered to this.
“Yeah. I suppose.” Marty looked around. “Smells so fresh here after a pouring rain. This is where I also became the Fireman. In short: I want to help.” He stared straight at Hucka Doobie here.
“I suppose it makes sense,” replied Baker Bloch later to Hucka Doobie sitting at the same. “He *does* live here after all. He’s just a skip and a beat away. Lemon can’t come, though.”
“Oh no,” states Hucka Doobie. “He has a, well, he has a hole in the middle that can’t be filled. Property of a *witch*.”
“Now Hucka, you know we can’t say that here.”
“*We* — just did.”
“So you have blue-green hair now, Wheeler. Blue… green.” She didn’t need to look. She’d seen it all before.
“Yeah. I changed it for Axis. And he changed it for me. He’s got blue-green energy lines all *over* his body now.”
“Yeah. It’s a Tron thing for him now. ‘Lamb’.”
“Not Tropp? True Opp or whatever he went by?”
“The old boyfriend?” responded Wheeler Wilson/Venus, taking another sip and wiping her mouth again. So refreshing. Water. “Nah. He’s gone back to New Eden I suppose. I — I really don’t know what he’s doing,” she admitted to her old Collagesity friend. And still a friend. Mary’s just a good person like that. Shows up when needed.
“You should keep up with him,” Mary requested, knowing full well deep down that Axis and this Tropp were one and the same. Same body, same head. Same man.
“I suppose I should.” Another sip. Wheeler wonders why this is so delicious. She can’t get enough!