Category Archives: Outer Islands

00410608

“So here be your three cornered hat you left behind, Jim Randolph the Bastard Pirate. And your rum.”

“Thanks be to ye Saucy Wendy for being such a good bar wench to me, arrr.”

She smiled, dropped her own fake accent. “Soo, you still heading off into space with that old jalopy outside like you talked about?” She’d watched him sail in on the thing; had her doubts that it was really that seaworthy let alone space-worthy. And so should he.

“Aye, I be doing that very thing still, Saucy Wendy. And…” Dare he ask her to go with him? Too soon? He’d left his hat and his alcohol behind just for this very excuse. To come back and invite her to the stars. Could he go through with it? He’d experienced fierce battles, fierce storms on water. Yet this might be the hardest thing he’d ever done: cold feet on land suddenly; wanting to run away from commitment.

“So, erm, how does all that work exactly?”

He dropped his own fake accent, trying to accustomize himself to land loving ways. “You just aim up instead of forward.” He’d tested it out already. Trouble is, he’d gotten the right creator recommended by fellow pirate and long time mate Black Pearl who he trusted implicitly in the matter of ships, just the wrong vehicle.  She actually meant this…

… while what was waiting outside for him and him alone was this:

The thing never stood a chance. Luckily Saucy Wendy elected to stay behind to start a now famous fast food franchise specializing in hot dogs. Initially.


Jim Randolph’s wrecked ship appearing on Red Dead’s planet…


… along with his tricorn hat and rum.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0041, 0608, Maebaleia/Satori, Outer Islands, RDR2

00410514

She was just standing there watching the waves crash when it flew out of them, hitting her in the thigh region and wiping that smug smile of satisfaction right off her face.

“OW!” she exuded with suddenly bulging eyes and down-turned mouth, body reflexively bending over in the sharp pain. “Damn thing hit me!”

“What’s that??” called Derek from the front of the boat they came on here from the mainland. Maebaleia is the continent again now, and Funnel is the sim. The island they landed on shouldn’t be here according to the map; drew their attention. It was all leading up to this.

“A can!” she shouted back over the continuing sound of turbulent water. Would it suck them in if they tried to return now? Was the sim aptly named because of this?

“Can?!” shouted Derek.

“Yeah! In the leg!” She picked it up after examining the mark it left, pain already easing off a bit. Unpopped, with pop still inside. Of course she dare not open it until the fizz inside settled down. Could take days. She was smarter in the ways of canned drinks than Newt apparently.

“Jimmy! Frederica!” Derek called to the people standing above them on the height of the islet. “We need to leave! Sarah’s hurt!”

“I think I’m okay!” said Sarah to this. She looked down again; no blood still. “Yeah, I’ll be okay! One of those bruising the ego more than bruising the body moments.”

“What happened?” asked Jimmy, standing next to Derek now but looking over at Sarah. She was upright again. She looked okay.

Frederica came up next. “Yeah, what is it?” she added. Jimmy was about to take a photo of her, a perfect spot, a perfect snapshot.

“It’s Sarah. She said something hit her in the leg.”

“It’s a can of pop,” she said, hearing every word despite the decreased volume of the talk. “It just, well *popped* me.”

“W-where did it come from?” questioned Jimmy. He looked out at the sea, the now strangely calming waves. They’d forgotten all about Tom. Tom came with them from the mainland. Tom was no longer there.

Satisfied Sarah was okay, Jimmy and Frederica returned to their former positions but the moment seemed ruined. Something about those 2 palms really bothered Jimmy now; he couldn’t focus camera or thoughts. He kept thinking about that thigh. He envisioned: a ship.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0041, 0514, Maebaleia/Satori, 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 someone’s 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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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0312, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Outer Islands, Rim Isles

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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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0216, Maebaleia/Satori, Outer Islands

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