Category Archives: Outer Islands

ROCKS

“We have to get rid of your kind to make room for the ships.”

“Oh okay.”

“We’ll give you a proper burial spot.”

“Query?” Rock would have raised a hand to ask an important question in his mind if he had any. But [Paper] already knew the answer.

“Quarry,” was his presumed corrective response. Stupid Rocks, he thought inwardly. We should cover them quickly to halt the dense talk.

Scissors then cut in, the hopeful champion of Rock and defender to the grave. But he would only beat her to a pulp when freed from his cage in the interrogation room, continuing the circle ad nauseam.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0601, California, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Outer Islands, Trinidad

boy next door

I was five years old. And I was preoccupied with the prop that was in my hand, because it was a toy turtle. But I had to pretend it was a real turtle that the audience just wasn’t seeing, and it was dead, so I was supposed to be crying and very emotional, and I remember him looking at that little turtle and talking to me about how it was kind of funny to have to pretend that was dead. So I recall just a very relaxed first impression.

JOURNAL, DAY 5

I met Thatch at a Northern Sea location. He said (in essence), “Come with me and I’ll take you somewhere. Kings Stone,” he said. “Or maybe Kingston… King *Something*.” I knew he was trying to communicate effectively. I had just been to the place he perhaps indicated, but I wondered if it was really the jazz club in Kings Stone he meant. He seemed confused. I knew Kings Stone was next to Druids Post, and there was also a Kingpost to the west. Maybe Kingston was (instead) Kingpost. I would go to both locations and check. In the meantime, I noted that we, in this underwater location, were just next door to the Slaashsides community up in the air in the sim west of here. My neck was starting to hurt slightly. I knew I had to move. Here is a picture of Thatch. He claims he didn’t know what he was looking for here (in Our Second Lyfe), or whom. I told him that maybe he was looking for me, but he hesitated about becoming a friend. I of course knew to quickly back off, then.

His shirt appears to have the word KANE upon it. Or maybe, upon inspecting again, it was KANI.

I looked at the dress code rules (at the jazz club). I would not fit, perhaps. I would have to return, in a different costume. My energy was running low. My wrists above my feet were beginning to ache a little. My arm, where they punctured me with a willy tip day before yesterday’s tomorrow, was sore. My feet were sore. My RIGHT HEEL hurt a bit, always a bad sign. Sign of trouble. I would check out the second “Kingston” location of the night.

It was a small place, giving better indication that Thatch was a true messenger.

On to the second.

I had also been here before. I noted that there were cypresses, in its two expressions, dotting the doubled islands of the sim, its only land. I channel some of my energy from my right foot to my left foot to remain grounded. I had about 15 minutes before the pain would come back. I also decided to dip my feet in the (cool) water by dangling them over the edge of the pier.

I watched a helicopter land in the strait between the islands. It didn’t stay long enough to make friends with the pilot. Thatch might be the only avatar I talk with this night.

I noted from afar that the pilot then disappeared but his helicopter remained. This would be right on the line between Scar and Funnel. I noted that if you slash someones sides a scar would remain. A scar is also usually a line. The pilot appears to have “talked” to me after all. Slaashsides is the true destination.

I returned to Thatch and stole a bit of energy from his feet, since he now seemed inactive — AFK as the locals say. I calculated he wouldn’t mind. He was kind of my friend after all. Friends help friends. After draining the energy of his feet and also the wrists above them I figured I had 20 more minutes to work with than before, making a total of about 30 now. I had time to visit Slaashsides itself. Just next door.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0313, Gno Kingdom^, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, North, Outer Islands, Slaashsides

3rd (of 4?)

I returned to the island of Meaux — seen here in the distance behind a quite familiar fluttering owl flag — for more potential links and clues about where to head next. This newest owl sighting seemed to dictate the action.

I fairly quickly ended up on Half Hitch, an island just beyond the south*east* corner of Nautilus, certainly my mainland continent of focus now that Collagesity has returned to it. So I’ve visited Castle Valeria in Nautilus’ northwest corner directly opposite here on the continent seemingly based on a 31×31 square, and then Valgate and also the overall Viterbo environs kind of tucked in its northeast corner. Now: southeast. I appear to be perhaps circling the square, a variation on the old alchemical paradox of squaring the circle. Circle near historical Valgate, Montana is also a hint here, to add onto, of course, the close proximity of Valeria and (Green)castle in Jasper County, IA., a square based county after all, just like its twin in IL where all the names of my collage series down through the years comes from. Up until the newest: Picturetown. Something is different now; shifted.

Exploring…

Was that a shouting (or singing?) man etched in the bow of this wrecked ship? What would be the utterance if so? Was this an angry or joyous person?

*Anyhoot* (Jeffrey Phillips likes to toss that word around a lot these days to segue between trains of thought), back to Half Hitch. Climbing the highest hill there to take a look around. Climbing, climbing…

—–

From the vantage point at the top, Jeffrey Phillips takes in the sight of Captain Crazy’s noisy, dirty trawler pulling into the small harbor of the town. Here was a man who might know something. So it’s back down off the hill for Jeffrey and into the tavern where he sees him and his men — well, man — head into. Cpt. Crazy use to have 8 men working on his ship but now he’s down to 1 thanks to the Child Labor Board cracking down on him last Fall. The only one over 18, heck the only one over 12. Here was a man who not only bent the rules, but turned them into salty pretzels to consume after any drinking jag. He was crazy, yes. But he still was probably the sanest man to visit Half Hitch today, what with that loonie convention going on over at neighboring Nautilus Island (yes, there is an island named Nautilus in addition to a continent, although the island and continent are next to each other and Nautilus Island is sometimes included as a part of the Nautilus continent, logically enough; but it causes some confusion, even to long time Our Second Lyfe residents).

Let’s not worry about those Nautilus loonies nor go into any details on why they’re even crazier than Crazy. Half Hitch is definitely not a part of any Nautilus, although it lies, like I said, just beyond the southeast corner of the continent, and also just beyond the eastern edge of the island. It’s similar to Castle Valeria just past the northwest corner in this way, since that sim wasn’t part of the original Nautilus either — it’s an add on. Let’s just move into a dialog with Crazy to dig up more information…

—–

Jeffrey Phillips was going to interject himself but the two mates, captain and one man crew, seemed to be having some kind of romantic dinner going on, what with the red coral heart between them and the, well, occasional mouth kissing and all the accompanying holding of hands across the table inside this heart. Jeffrey was, of course, okay with the Captain and his mate being gay. His half sister on his mother father’s side was half so and they got along better than any of his other percentage siblings. Viewpoints matter. Jeffrey would bide his time, having nothing else pressing on his calendar at the moment. Crime was down in Collagesity thanks to the new-ish police department. 5 fingerprince had been lifted from the more serious crime scenes, and Jeffrey had them all under control. Now was the time to synchronize the continent to his city to ensure more stability, and circling its square seemed to be the key.

(to be continued)

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tied up

“So I just took the whole kitten caboodle island, bridge and all, and drug it over through the water to the *Easties* side, saying down in my booming voice, ‘You had your turn, you Westerners, Richie Griffith and all. Now it’s their turn.’ I also declared that the island would switch sides of Bartybrat Bay each 700 years but my guess is that they’ll want to do it much sooner. So one of us should plan to return in about, say, 20 to 30 years for the chore. Are you on board with that, Jeffrey Phillips?”

Jeffrey stared at the picture of Brilliant Island’s central bay between the two sides of its twinned village, trying to figure out which direction was which and if the snapshot represents a before or after situation. “Sure, sure,” he finally uttered, knowing he didn’t have anything on the schedule past next Tuesday’s Wednesday. “I’ll even go first. Now that I know they’re on our side.”

“Okay, your turn. Tell me what happened to *you*.”

“Oh, nothing much. Really — nothing. They found me reading that book and they tied me down on the other side of the hill and left me there and finally I managed to get free and I came back home to here and wrote what happened down in my blog.”

“Hmm,” says Fern Stalin, thinking, oh, he really *did* mean “nothing much”. Certainly not as exciting and meaningful as her story of the island. She gets up to leave.

“Where’re you off to now, opposite of mine?”

“The rocket ship. Did you forget?”

Jeffrey Phillips had forgot. Sammy the Messenger Featherfloater should have returned by now to let all the others of his kind know. Fearless intrepid leader Spore had a plan. There was not one Fern but two, like Original and Extra Crispy. Now to sort them all out in separate buckets… or something.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0217, Lower Austra^, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Outer Islands, Rim Isles

new threat

2 days later — 1 day, 23 hours, 56 minutes later to be precise — the villagers were alerted again to the presence of a giant amongst them. Stan Jackson, Gertie and Brumhilda Johnson, and the Twinkle Toe twins assembled in the “green” in front of their 3 houses. On the other side of the water,  Stephen Fire, Alice and Daisy and Little Boo and Poppy Paxton, and Richie Griffith did the same.

“Who this time?” these Westerners cried out across Bartybrat Bay, named for a local ragamuffin killed in a skateboarding accident.

“A fair maiden this time Richie Griffith and others,” replied the Easties, trying to keep their voices down a bit more because of well, the presence. Stan Jackson was especially irritated by Richie Griffith’s big tiny mouth, town crier indeed — and always had to be addressed as their leader according to the new town policy drawn up day before yesterday’s tomorrow. He planned to open a proper newspaper office on Central Isle later this month — that’ll teach the big tiny snitch.

They all assembled on Central Isle, soon to be turned into a shopping strip if Stan Jackson and the Easties had their way. That way they’d have to build a bridge coming from *their* direction; no more monopolizing Central Isle by the Westerners. For prophecy (Big Bob) had said, “And lo if the Easties have their way, the Central Isle will be transformed, ye, into a stripper joint.” Everyone down through the years and now centuries assumed a brothel type establishment but modern developments seemed to have proven them wrong.


Stan Jackson was careful to stand on the exact spot he planned to open his newspaper office and then glared over at Richie Griffith, the louse.

The giant was coming by water this time. Stealthier.

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00250215

2 days earlier, Jeffrie Phillips knew he had to arrive 1st at the Brilliant fairy village. If it was to survive and even thrive. Take me to your leader, he thought, but without a snicker. This was dead serious stuff. Fern would be arriving two days later and for all he knew, she would strip all the foliage off these protective trees and expose the wee people here to the relentless sun and rain for who knows how long. Years. Jeffrie Phillips had a name. Richie. Richie Griffith. He didn’t know if that was the leader or a representative of him or her. No doubt the village residents had been alerted to his presence on the edge of their compound. Best just to wait here at this rock. He brought a book along for the trip. “Gulliver’s Travels.”

He became so engrossed in the book that he didn’t see them approach with tiny pitchforks and rope.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0215, Maebaleia/Satori, Outer Islands

Fern’s Hill (balance)

They said if I went far back enough in time to lose my hair that I would see him. MAN. About to create Mistery from Mystery and Misery; combination of islands and isles. But where was I?

And what’s that island just over there? Oops! Got my hair back just as that tree found foliage. That must be my isle (!).

Fern, who Spore in his jealousy has deemed Substitute Fern, was smart, perhaps too much so. I don’t think she’ll be that easy to eliminate.

MAN was nowhere to be found now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0214, Maebaleia/Satori, Outer Islands

Obvious Isle

He often trots over to the south side of the island to stare with Giant Pety across the water at the small isle that signifies nothing to him, wondering what it means. Perhaps the isle use to house an important structure, perhaps a lighthouse, although there are enough of those around in the vicinity now to warn any ship coming in any direction. But in the past, say before Mystery fused with Misery to become Mistery, maybe circumstances were different. A special kind of lighthouse. Another green lantern. I only say this because Giant Pety himself emits a bit of green at nighttime.

Maybe we’ll never know.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0213, Maebaleia/Satori, Outer Islands

Mistery Island 02

Through the tree limbs, he watches Sammy glide away across the sea, back to the Northern Ocean whence he came. A Messenger Featherfloater, he pondered, another one of *his* creations. Like this Mistery Island. Like Original Fern, Substitute Fern be damned. And now he was off too, following Sammy in a green lantern boat, another of his design. Spore certainly was the evil minded inventor. But Icarus the golden robot rocket might have been his greatest feat. The rocket that would propel mankind to Mars. If he actually *wanted* it to, ho ho.

“Jacky Jack,” he declared to his right hand rabbit to his right. “I’m going to the other side of the island for a while. Make sure you clean and scrub the houses and reset the lanterns before I return nightfall.”  Jacky nodded in silence. Jacky had learned not to speak up unless demanded. The less information Spore has to work on the better, since he uses such for evil and not for good. The little rabbits can’t go to college because you’re short on cash? Spore will find ways to withhold even more money from your check. One, several or all of his brood could become future servants, the intrepid ruler thinks. If the family is destitute enough, he he.


Billyboat Bay

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0212, Maebaleia/Satori, Outer Islands

Mistery Island

“So that’s one dead intruder taken care of, but more will come. Original Fern,” he declared in his tiny, maniacal voice full of greed and thirst for power, “you must find the witches and take care of them — cut off their *head*.” He rubs his little green hands gleefully as he does every time the subject comes up.

“Yup,” came the simple reply from even slightly smaller Original Fern (OF) beside him, killing laser put away for now. Rael-Anon never had a chance with this gunslinger of the Old East, a tiny who would rather speak with action. A fly lights on his nose and he swats it precisely back into the hell it was spawned from. He picked the dead carcass from his nose and ate it, with then small crunching noises emitting from his masticating mouth as he continued to stare at Spore, his fearless, intrepid leader, the one who calls the big shots. For now.

“My sacred *shards*” — he watches the spore shards in front of him turn another color here, gold to red this time — “will tell us what to do now that the Strange Orb has been released. All is going according to plan.” (rubbing of hands here again) He turns his attention to the steady green orb hovering above the center of the table and the broken shards that use to contain it as a slightly larger orb. Unwavering green from mutable green, gold, red, blue. Original Fern has his mission.

Sammy the Featherfloater swept in from the skies, his head juxtaposed with the green sphere from this angle. “Sire. The ship has landed in the Northern Sea.”

“Good good. OF — on your way.”

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