January 18, 2023 · 5:13 pm
She received clarification in another witch house near the Head Line in Hooktip, her old stopping grounds. PCH Forest — many a day she could be found roaming these woods for magical trinkets, practicing magical spells. This is where, for example, she came up with a mate named George, a future husband she declared to him after he physically manifested before her, not quite mature but getting there. A boy 13 to 10 to 13 to 10 over and over (as it turned out), always gaining 6 inches to reach the upper extreme, always with horns or antlers by that time. On sunnier days he could even glimpse 18.
from the files: bigger George. With horns or antlers.
Anyway, the new, proper board’s planchette further indicated or emphasized the importance of the 5 point star to add to the already highlighted ending/beginning Z, obvious reference to her cat Mysti, long long left behind but still the best of friends, we assume. She even named herself that after the cat in one of her incarnations (switching the i and the y), an homage to the past in more ways than one.
from the files: Misty.
Yes, she recalls that. Quite close to here, in a retro town defunct for several years now. Took up all or almost all of Myron, a couple of sims directly west of Hooktip. Arthur was also there in a way. Except she called him Septimius. Septimius Felton, a name which has resurface recently. Darn full moon, darn wandering feet on a full moon. She ended up beside him, which now was a her. But it was still Arthur in a way, in a manner. Too hard to explain to him, though. Must keep that a big secret still — the trip to Red Marsh and Maroonville, sometimes called Redtown because of the overarching sim. Santa was born there, some say — legend goes. Santman.
She also found a book with a golden butterfly on the front, mirroring the name of the property: Golden Hours. Inside she read about herself.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0513, Heterocera, Myron^, VHC City^
Tagged as Amos T. Sandman^*+++, Arthur Kill/Lemont Sanford^*++++%%, Axis/Tropp-Opp/Campbell O'Pine^*++++@, CLOSE UP+, George^*++, GOLDEN GIRL++++, Sep Felton^^++++, Shelley Struthers^^++++, Treelor^^+, Tropp^*+, WEGEE+
January 18, 2023 · 7:29 am
Now Arthur finds a similar meditation pillow on which to sit. Shining 01, he thinks. Is he a Shining 02?
He must be. They are one beneath it all, after all (he believed). Soulmates. Counterparts. Two paths meet and unite. If not in the moment — separate for a bit again. She’s over exploring the witch house. She’d found something. A witch. An old hag with real long hair wearing a gimmicky orange and black Halloween costume, although she said that’s just part of her schtick.
“Do you understand… the pages?” she asked before Shelley could ask about the same — jumping ahead of her. Unusual for Shelley. Could this be? Nah, couldn’t.
Shelley looked at them flying about above the table and a little beyond on all sides. Almost in danger of hitting her face but she kept steady, not blinking. She instinctively knew this wouldn’t hurt her. Ahh, she recalls Jem in her eyes, checking the blog again, making sure she’s up to speed. Jem had this power. Edward Daigle asked her to shut it down so he could be *safe*. She’ll not make that error between her legs here. Conception. “Arkansaw?” she tried with some assurance. She stared over at the eyes. Umbrella too, she recognized. This was her.
Arthur walked into the room, having finished his own exploration once more. The pages fell like cards out of the air, fluttering down to the ground and on the table before her — them. The witch was gone. The witch had never been here. Physically. She picked up a piece, studying. It contained a picture of a prism, white light leading in, colored out. 2 parts, 2 1/2s. She looked at Arthur. He remained refracted, unable to unite the various selves as whole. She — different now. She had seen herself in the future. Sitting here. Dealing with these cards, the life she’s led. It all led to here. Purity, happiness… maybe. God at least.
She saw shadows of a pained face on Arthur’s face, amplifying the shock that was already there. Yes, he saw pages/paper flying in the air of their own accord, then the spell was broken. The Ouija planchette beneath them had also ceased moving.
Stopped on Z; she knew where to head next. All the way back to the beginning which would then become the new end.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0512, Heterocera, Pond District^, VHC City^
Tagged as Arthur Kill/Lemont Sanford^*++++%%, Cat-Witch^^=====, Edwardston/Edward Daigle^*++++&, Jem^^+++, Mid Hazel^^++++%, Mr. Z^*+, Shelley Struthers^^++++, WEGEE+
January 18, 2023 · 5:57 am
“Find anything in that holler down there?”
“Oh, a book. And a cave full of crystals. The book reminded me of Hucka.”
“Hucka? How do you know…?”
“I know a lot,” answered Shelley Struthers to recently husbanded boyfriend Arthur Kill, who sometimes steps out of character to play Lemont Sanford up in or toward Real Life. And now there’s a 3rd Life to deal with. On Our Second Lyfe’s computer if you know how to log in. And we do.
Arthur looked over, nodding. “The umbrella eyes, yes.” Library in her eyes, he knew. She doesn’t need the physical stuff any longer. All in the head.
“How ’bout you? Find anything? Up here?”
“Lemme think about that.”
“Just a lot of monuments and tombs,” he finally answered her after fleshing in his own local backstory a bit. “One statue seemed to not have a head, but then I realized the angel on top just had her head down and the bun in her hair appeared like a, er, untopped neck.” He picked this particular monument to talk about for a reason.
They just needed a little bit of time away from each other to contemplate by themselves, why they’re here in the first place. Heterocera. Home of the *Head* Line, the Heart Line. Shelley’s old home on the former — apt. still there, actually, at the triple point in Hooktip, even if she never is. That was a long time ago for her, her Firesign period with its silly puns and innuendos. She hadn’t moved on. Just absorbed… assimilated. ‘Nother one.
“Real Linden water down there, I found out.”
“Fascinating.” He found himself arching an eyebrow even. Making him think of another fake head removal, another “long long ago.” Soo many memories now. Encounter with “God.”
May 16, 2022 · 10:27 am
Kactus tries out reality amidst will o’ wisps. He points and mutters in his drunkenness, “I use to *live* there, he he.” Man About Time should have put an end to him while he had the chance. Now he’s been let loose upon *our* world. US of A/Iowa/Ringgold County. Should have never let the link happen. Fo fo fo.
“*Duncan*,” George cried in the shack in the forest. “Duncan is dead!”
The boy decides to do something about it.
“Who are you?”
“My name is George,” he said to her with his newly minted lips, reading her mind of course. Since it was his mind as well. “And I am your future husband.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0106, Heterocera, Jeogeot, Towerboro, VHC City^
Tagged as CASTLE, Duncan Avocado^*======%%&, George^*++, Kactus/Donald^*++++!, Shelley Struthers^^++++, SWEEP
October 14, 2021 · 6:07 am
“I’m just saying she mentioned your name, Duncan; said you need to stay away from those woods and that your karma is done there, along with George’s.”
“Interesting,” he says back to me, still keeping one eye on the tulips, which he then notices that I notice and looks away — for a minute. I’ll check all that out later.
October 13, 2021 · 8:51 am
She hung up her black hat and dress and boots. She put on her blue flower jeans and rose shirt and red canvas shoes, made for a kid. Because she was a kid again, or at least closer to such. Our friendly, lovely Alysha. And where was projected mate Axis-Windmill these days? Still in Neat Town talking to Kick-ass Boos about bigfoot, locally colored green and called mossmen? Actually the last time we checked in with him, he was in Bellisaria chatting with a painter rabbit about primary colors, specifically about blue and black and how one can change into another. Perhaps he wants to know because of Hatti’s witch hat, which she just hung up. He knows about the alchemical cemetery, the alchemetery or alcemetery if you will (his coinings). He knows he has a rival and he doesn’t have much time, this White fellow.
He doesn’t yet realize he’s also staring into a mirror.
“Whitehead, Mossmen,” he mutters, waking up again, but this time not in the cabin, at least in *that* one. Instead: Reality.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0404, Frank Park, Heterocera, Horsa^, Maebaleia/Satori, VHC City^, Whitehead Crossing
Tagged as Alysha^^++++%, Axis/Tropp-Opp/Campbell O'Pine^*++++@, Axis^*++++, Gene Fade^*+!$, Kickass Boos^*$, Newt/Windmill Man^*++++&, White Mage/Brend^*++++
October 13, 2021 · 8:25 am
“Let’s go play with The Diagonal,” she requests, getting up.
“36, 35: 100 less in each case than the ottoman at the center where Shelley seduced Tommy (Tailgate). Do you recall who else was seduced on a tailgate?”
“Sid?” I said, suddenly having omniscient author powers. Sid worked for Buster Damm in the Pot-D organization, unless it was visa versa. I also realized that the omniscient author of this here photo-novel, 29 in a series of nothing, had left a lot of choices open-ended. In one fork… well I guess Pot-D is the stable thing, the whole idea of protecting The Diagonal, which only numbers one now, at least on this continent (Heterocera). And this is where it all began — in the Rubi Woods extended to VHC City. The first 5 photo-novels were all about the continent before we — our extended family of core avatars — moved away from it starting in 6. And now we’re in a whole different hemisphere, East instead of West. I looked at the witch, wondering what direction *she* would choose. Does she live in a backwards world, a mirror to our own? Strange thought.
“You have everything you need here — on this spot. You can spot Shelley’s clock tower up toward the center of the sim. You can see my cabin in the woods over there. And over there (she turns): the Good Neighbors pylon marking where The Diagonal enters the sim in the first place. What more do you need? The Sun?”
Indeed it was beginning to rain. I realized my neck ached more because of the coming of such.
East or West? I guess I would go with West, then. She seemed to like it here.
(to be continued)
October 13, 2021 · 7:41 am
He was in a new place, highlighted by purple. Mushrooms all around.
He wakes up. “Witch dream,” he mutters, looking over.
“The cat dreams, you dream,” she says, already involved in her morning reading. Not good today. The Sun. No Moon in sight. “See? Itchy also stirs below you at the same time. I’m sorry: *Scratchy*. Do you remember Scratchy?”
I sit up, trying to remember how I got here. True, I was walking toward the place, then…”
“Trying to recall?” she guessed correctly. “I had to bring you here to replace Duncan. Duncan doesn’t need to return to these woods. His karma is done with it, George (ward) too — Buster be damned.”
I sat up more, straightened out my spine to aid my aching neck. That couch — not what I would have chosen to sleep on. Thanks witch! My day starts out not well. “Buster… Damm?” I reply, trying to get my bearings.
“Yeah, um, Tussock — his home of course — right next door. We’re in Hooktip. In the woods. I have a house here as well, but I keep cracking all the mirrors there. Forest is better when I’m in these kind of states. I seem to have the worse luck lately. And *here*…” she points down toward the cards. “The *Sun* of all things, the *opposite* of what I desire.”
“The Who?” I say back.
The witch, who is of course a new advancement of Alysha, even further beyond child now, looks over. Precisely what I would have said in your position, she realizes. They are one. And she also understands the reading is for him, not her. “How’s your neck?” she asks after turning over the next card. Maybe there’s hope for this day after all.
October 6, 2021 · 8:17 am
By 9 o’clock she had him sweeping the floor while she kept reading recipes, trying to decide. One thing she knew, butter would be involved — not glisteny enough now. She floated some toward her from the table.
Peter Cotton wasn’t surprised, because of the hat and all. And he’d heard rumors in the village about witchcraft up on the hill. So when Hatti propositioned him in the streets of VHC City after his shift at the mill he thought he’d give it a try — something new. His current girlfriend Frieda Friendly wasn’t hacking it for him in the bedroom right now. He desired something a bit more, um, magical? Maybe. Different anyway. He didn’t know, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he wanted change, and change he would get. If he wasn’t killed first by the dinner.
Peter Cotton was best friends with Tommy Tailgate, who also got propositioned in this merry month of May (or August (or October)). He was also on a date. “Excuse me while I go powder my knees,” said Shelley Struthers later on at her Top o’ the Hill Hooktip apartment containing that ultra mysterious and perhaps ultra powerful triple number of the sim: 135, 135, 135, highest on Heterocera’s Diagonal as a whole, with an old name of Head. There was no Heart now, so the additional description of Head wasn’t needed no longer. There was only one. Art’s place along with the proximate heart is gone. Abandoned land. “You just sit there on the ottoman,” she requested, knowing it would eventually work its magic if he stayed still long enough. 135, 136, 135. Very close. Close enough, as indicated.
Shelley stared into the bedroom mirror and it mysteriously cracked. Didn’t seem like a good omen. Maybe she should have a rethink about her vanity, she rationalized. Go tell Tommy to move from the ottoman to the couch. A calmer, cooler date to begin, yes. And go out to eat as well.
October 5, 2021 · 7:29 am
The mirror had long cracked for Henrietta, locally called Hatti for the obvious. Not because she wasn’t beautiful in a way, but just because of the evil, let’s say. Actually let’s go with: she did it on purpose. She didn’t want to become Vain. She wanted to become herself, beyond the hat. But she knew it would take Time.
She purposefully made holes in it so that her blue-ish hair would poke through. Some say it was black, but that was just a trick of the light. A trick set up by Hatti/Henrietta as well. She certainly had talent in that direction, genius even.
Today she intended to ride her old Schwinn bike down into town and ask Peter Cotton out, who labors in a mill. She likes the way he walks the streets all sweaty and glisteny. Maybe it’s just a passing phase because last month she liked her men bone dry. But the one she had a particular eye on died at the first of the month, struck down by a mysterious malady and gone in hours. Some say deadly nightshade did him in. How peculiar. *She* has a jar of that very substance up in her cabinet over there with the rest of her poisons and potions. And it’s two teaspoons down from what it was last month. So curious, she pondered to herself with a wry smile forming on her cracked, withered lips which she’s covering with blood red lipstick right now. And all because he had the audacity to turn her down; hopefully Cotton will work out better.
Comic Baker Addon Door? How strange.
To the witch house…