“I can’t see *anything*, Pitch thinks. “I can’t hear, can’t speak. My life is over.”
“We’ll get you fixed up,” Mary encourages in his head while continuing to stare at the giant fruit in front of her. “Apple, orange, yellow fruit, lime. There’s nothing to see, hear, speak about. Yet. We’ll get you fixed up.”
Merlin Martin
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0007, 0204, Clemscott^, Gaeta V^^
Pitch had always gotten chills when walking past this particular spot on his Grassy Avenue. Tonight he understood why. Two cardboard figures, Derek Jones and Sikul Himakt Mykall Skall, awaited him at the location. Pitch temporarily lost his sight.
“Ahh, my eyes! I can’t see.”
And soon he couldn’t hear or speak either.
—–
Jacob I. was now up on the second floor of House Greenup in Rubi. He had reached Greenup 11 in his examination. Himself.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0007, 0202, Clemscott^, Gaeta V^^, Heterocera, Rubi^
“Pitch, I’d like you to meet Jessica — put your hand back, sweetie, he’ll shake it in a moment — and this here is Phillip Linden. You know about my creator now. Well, Phillip kind of created this *whole thing* we’re in, this Second Lyfe of ours.”
“Cool,” Pitch replied. “Nice to meet you Jessica, Phillip.”
“Phillip runs a bar now,” continues Mary. “Just for laughs and giggles, you know. Something to do when he’s not away creating worlds. Like now apparently, haha.” She turned toward him to emphasize his “away” status at the time.
“Right.”
“We should go sometime,” suggests Mary, then winks at him. “To the bar, I mean.”
“What about *Steven*?” Was Mary asking him on a date despite what he knows?
“Steven schmeven…”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“You and I, Pitch,” said Mary to her pale counterpart. “We’re the real deal.” She turned to Philip and shouted. “Hey in there! Hey Phillip! What time does your bar open!?” Everyone in the building turned and stared.
Philip woke up from his away status, looked around. “Um, what was that, er, Mary?”
“I said!” Then she lowered her voice, realizing there was no need to shout any longer. “I *said*… what time does Gene Autry open?”
“Gene Autry?”
“The bar, silly. Your bar. Just over there in the corner of the sim. Above the ride. On the second floor of the freebies shop.” She turned back to Pitch, took his hand. “Here, let’s just head on over, sweetie. Phillip’s there already. I should know.”
—–
“You see, Pitch darling. *This* is where it all happens. A philosopher’s corner. A veritable cornucopia of ideas and inventions. Why, just last week Phillip suggested the idea of a cubic moon for Second Life with equilateral gravity on all six sides. Not flat like this place. And I think that’s where it’s all headed, Pitch. Diagonal. Because diagonal leads beyond. Have you ever moved in a diagonal sugar?”
Pitch didn’t really know what Mary was babbling on about. A young black man who had been sitting on the opposite side of the room suddenly moved toward the bar toting a large, green lime between his hands. Not saying anything, he placed it on the counter, then exited via the stairs down to the lower floor.
Phillip became fully awake again, looked at Mary, looked at the big lime. “A lime is called a linden in Britain.”
“Who *was* that shadowy figure?” he begged.
And so it began.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0007, 0110, Clemscott^, Gaeta V^^
“Pitch Darkly will be here shortly. As soon as they start talking to Phillip Linden run over there and lay this giant lime on the bar counter close to them. That’s all you have to do. Just wait here.”
“Yes,” affirms Young Duncan, hip to her trip.
“Come on, honey,” says the approaching Osborne Well. We have somewhere else to be now. Should’ve been there about 2 hours ago, blimey.”
—–
“Too late,” states Lou to her father in the Comfrey caverns. “Wheeler must have come fetched The Musician after all. I suppose that’s good, huh? Right daddy?”
Wondering what he’s distracted by, Lou goes over and merges with him, then stares out with same eyes at the manifested creature in the center of the glimmering cave pool.
MOA.
“I’m real, you know. I’m not just a doll.”
“You’re not my Mary,” a slightly drunk Pitch Darkly grumbles. He looks up. “What did I get you for our one month anniversary together?”
“Sapphire,” she quickly responded. “Pen.” She points toward her scarf. “The one I’m wearing.”
“Impressive,” Pitch says with a head tilt and a smirk. “So do all you clones know everything about each other? You Clem clones?”
“We’re not clones. We’re all the same. There’s a difference. Let me show you something. I want to introduce you to my friends here. Do you have time?”
“Sure,” replies Pitch. What’s time here? he thinks to himself.
—–
“Pitch Darkly,” says the seated Mary in a nearby building. “These are my mates Patti (“Hi!”), Ben (“Hellooo!”), Paul (“Likewise!”) and Tammi (“Nice to meet you!”). Why don’t you have a seat, Pitch. Have a drink as well. There’s a bar right over there.”
“No thanks, I’ll stand.” Pitch was trying to determine what this was. A party of mannequins? But Mary still talks to me. And all the others responded as well.
—–
Suddenly he was across the room, standing before Mary still but with a new friend this time. “We’ll get back to the party soon enough, Pitch. I wanted you to meet Steven first. I met him shortly after Hana Lei was destroyed by snow and ice… couldn’t handle the weight. Steven is a brick layer. Best in the four sim region.”
Steven stands up, shakes Pitch’s hand vigorously with a vise grip. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard so many things about you.” He glances over at Mary and returns to his seat.
—–
Then he was at the bar in another part of the same floor. Mary was bartending again. Another Bucket of Blood manifests in front of him out of thin air. The sun was setting on Clemscott. The automatic lights were warming up.
“So you see, we’re not clones. We’re all the same. Every last one of us. All Mary’s. Like Nancy before us. Like *everyone*, really. Like you, Pitch Darkly. Who are you deep inside that white, bloodied exterior? You know.”
But Pitch’s mind was not set on philosophy tonight. Something more basal and immediate troubled him. “So you have a new boyfriend now,” he blurts with aching heart.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0007, 0105, Clemscott^, Gaeta V^^
Pitch Darkly teleports into the centre of Clemscott. As he knew from previous visits, the owner of the sim had marked the spot with a grassy, oval lozenge. This Clem fellow. Clem Scott maybe. Smart like a Fox.
Merlin’s Mound dead ahead, as Pitch has dubbed it. Grassy green like the central object he stands upon. Extension?
What, if anything, is buried within?
This is a grassy avenue just beyond that interests Pitch greatly for reasons I won’t go into just yet.
The avenue extends along the north side of… well I’m just going to let the pictures basically tell the story.
According to these signs adorning the surrounding square shaped wall in all 4 of its corners, the fenced-in region of approx. 1024 meters (32 x 32 meters) holds what are apparently experimental building projects, with apologies given for the involved dust. You can actually buy the wall and attached signs for 50 lindens. Pitch is tempted…
Walled region.
Viewing platform?
Banana and apple.
Once again, Pitch realizes he’s not going to be able to figure it out tonight. He must move on. But not before noting this 32 meters long “measuring rod” extending well below the surface here. 32 meters is also the length of each side of the walled compound.
Walled region and “Merlin’s Mound”.
Pitch decides to quench his parched throat at a neighboring bar before continuing. “Bucket of blood,” he requests to the familiar bartender. “No nails.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0007, 0104, Clemscott^, Gaeta V^^
Meanwhile, the upper 2/3rds of *Story Room*, so to speak — Pretty Man and Earie/Chuck — had decided to splurge on an early Christmas present and vacation in luxurious Comfrey on the Gaeta continent, noted for its staged environments. But those names are misnomers at this point, as Wheeler Wilson had fully changed back into a woman now after leaving the role of Pretty Man behind in Gaston, while The Musician had similarly set aside his desire to play female Chuck Cheese in addition to male Earie. So we’ve got a sort of reset for these two back to VHC City days from earlier in 2017. And I suppose that may mean they’re actually not the top 2/3rds of Story Room any longer either. Shoot.
The vacation literally got off on the wrong foot when Wheeler slipped on an icy spot while stepping out of the unicorn drawn carriage which brought them to their lodgings.
But luckily the fall only hurt her pride. New-ish shoulder pet Sidechick Corea was okay too.
“Pheh.”
—–
Baker Bloch — er, Pitch Darkly also had new digs, albeit of a more modest variety. He stares out from his porch across the water toward Clemscott, owned by the creator of his beloved Mary. He’s also decided to return to a prime state. He will not give up on his dolls.
Understanding that Even Whiter Walt’s Mary is most likely not coming back to him, Pitch Darkly decides to visit her creator’s place over on the Gaeta continent to purchase another Mary. What’s his limit for a wife, though? 50 lindens? 100? 150 even?
“Mary?”
Turns out to be just some kind of faceless witch that has the same body type as his former lover.
Pitch rather quickly determined that Mary’s creator is kind of one crazy dude (or dudette). This would be Ponsonby Low, reminding the ancient vampire that his alt ego Baker Bloch originally served an alien named Mr. Low when first manifesting in this world (Second Life) way back in 2008. Any connection? he wondered. In checking, Pitch didn’t find much information about the current Mr. Low except that his user works in publishing in RL, and that he was also born in 2008 like the male Baker. Another older soul here.
Pitch doesn’t quite know what to make of this place. And so much more to look at! But he must remember his mission of finding another Mary.
Pitch gets tired from running around and sits a spell at a complexly designed fountain.
He found her! At least the angling version. “Mary?” he speaks. No answer. This one isn’t animated. At least yet. But the figure is not for sale and he moves on.
He can buy a pointing witch wife for 50 lindens who looks a lot like Mary, once more. But witches and vampires traditionally don’t get along.
40 lindens for this warrior who has Mary’s face. *Is* this Mary? He calls again. No answer. And he’s afraid of pointed objects.
“How ’bout you sweetie, hehe. Wanna go out with me?” Pitch pauses. “Okay, be that way.” He keeps moving.
Finally he spots the real Mary — both of them, in fact — at the end of another of those narrow, rainbow colored bridges that dot the place. He runs down.
“I’m *so* glad to see the two of you! It’s been so long.” But like all the other figures he’s met, the Marys remain silent. He checks the price. 60 lindens for the both of them. Quite reasonable. But for some reason a picture of Tronesisia forms in his mind. “Don’t do it,” she calls. “Wait for me. I’m coming.”
Pitch returns home to Collagesity and his Darkly Manor still without a Mary. He’s landmarked the place where they are. He can return at any time and make the purchase. But maybe, just maybe, he’s outgrown the desire for mere “dolls” for girlfriends and needs a real avatar lady this time. Someone like Tronesisia? But she’s with Peter SoSo, isn’t she? Robots and vampires — he hasn’t heard anything bad about that particular mixture of species.
He sits on the thought.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0006, 0504, Clemscott^, Gaeta V^^, Heterocera, Rubi^
Sunklands 