Carolin saw her approaching the hill from the road. “Up here Tessa!” she called from the designated meeting spot, sacred in the long game. Cow Hill. The Man About Time finally made it. And Tessa’s old cave friend Carolin, whose circumstances we haven’t really delved into yet, with only one post devoted to her so far. Here’s where that changes: novel 24. (Wheeler thinks) we need a new (important) female character, and Carolin is a good fit, helping to fill out the overall macro-picture a little bit more. One novel at a time. One post, one section, one novel. When will it end? What is at the end of *that* particular road? Another too deep mystery with ban lines all around? Let’s see what Carolin adds to the now very big equation, with a large blackboard needed to contain.
Ahh: appropriate. A big blackboard.
And I guess that leaves Man About Time out of the picture currently since his seat has been taken. He missed again! On with the show…
Cow Pond, which I had planned to use for a filming location, has suddenly been dug out and deepened, with this mysterious structure positioned inside. The owner implies in her description that it can’t be figured out, so I won’t try. Plus the property is restricted at least for the moment. But this *is* Cow Pond, or *was*, now turned into a lake. This must be Loon Lake (too). And, appropriately, *Tessa* has returned to this here blog and attached photo-novel, 24 in a series of 20. Because Part 02 of “Sunklands Winter 2020-2021” will be its own novel, separated from Part 01. This is a little different than what I’ve done before, but the pattern of 6 sections of about 17 posts apiece (add on a couple of posts at the end as a coda to make a 7th section often) will hold true, I’m assuming.
Last we checked in on Herbert Gold’s oldest grandchild she was going a little la la over in a middle part of a larger Bellisaria island some have started calling Manhattan, because of the similar shape, I suppose, but also because it has a central park of sorts: Millgate. Alright, I just made all that up, but the island is real, and Tessa has definitely associated it with New York (City), close to solving a mystery herself. But — here we go — she was *banned* from this oh so central section as pond turned into lake, deepening the mystery. We have to switch over to a new novel for further development. So here we are: the present.
Tessa has no choice but to walk back up Cow Road to Cow Hill at the other end to meet those responsible for the banning, and an explanation. Plot of photo-novel 24 coming up!
After I saw what I saw at the Blue Airfield I decided to pay a visit to my old friend Tigertail while in the neighborhood and discuss all of it with him. He’d been overseeing my actions for a long time.
Not in his shop. And there’s the time-plunger I first used to travel through the centuries and beyond (!)
A prototype, and I was a guinea pig. Oh well, paid for my first 3 years in college in Mesopotamia. 50 bucks (lindens) goes a long way back then. It’s over now, and luckily I’m only mildly confused about all of it. I think. Time to find Tigerhead.
*There* he is. In that giant snowflake seen in the opening to the sky. “Hello Tiger… er, just Tiger!” But Tiger existed in a different strata of time than MAT presently, one operating much more slowly, frozen even (to us). He’d visited the Blue Airfield partially in Gray one too many times himself and this is what happened.
In a larger perspective, Tiger sees different times as islands in a sea of space. “Oh look at me, I’m standing on Mesopotamia,” he wanted to joke to his former pupil but couldn’t because of the whole frozen thing. Can’t… move.
Like Olive Oylstick and blue monster companion Groover before him, Man About Time — MAT — also waited at the Blue Airfield for a ship of some sort, hopefully an airship, you know. He perched upon the best vantage point possible, on a high knoll just over the line from Blue in Gray, he thought. He was testing out realities. He’d just found pansies in Orion Falls and much more.
He was hot on a trail but to where he didn’t yet know. It led here first, picture-wise, a stepping stone. He thought back to Marvin the Martian next to the Blue Feather Sea (his original home). And HELMETS.
An agreement signed. Planes penetrating each other. I remember something about Jim Polk but then someone else warning me to slow down and that I was going too fast and to take the 2 blue pills and don’t think about red for a while. So here I am. At Blue… field. So here I am… at Blue… field.
He turns. Something was wrong, he realizes. He should be in Gray; this is not Gray. Too much Blue! Instead: over in that small bit of woods across the Blue field. Hiding. He was too much out in the open. Warning again. Exposed! (War!)
The ship swooped down and carried MAT off to a lala land and dropped him into the ocean where he was rescued by a passing whale and brought instead to Humansville where he met Baker Bloch and Hucka Doobie while breaking into a house and who then helped him find the right house for the keys he now possessed which turned out to be not the ninth he tried, but the 10th, like a wheel and then he thought about dinner and 12:37 and a spark on his shoulder which told him to return to Bellisaria which led to the pansies… and the prison… and Elizabeth. There. He felt better. He turns back, away from a lala land triggered by the moving blocks of color. Time to go hide in those woods.
“You have wonky eyes.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“6 o’clock?! I’ve got to get back for supper. Butter get those flapjacks on, witches!
“Soup’s up!” Fisher the fry cook called.
“That’s yours, Groover,” Olive Oylstick reminded her dinner companion, wondering where her pancakes were. Damn witches.
“Oh GROOVEY!” Shut up, is all she could think with rumbling stomach.
Picking out a new favorite stuffed animal at the pet shop, one without wonky eyes. She doesn’t want to be reminded! She stares straight at them to keep aligned.
She brought Groover back to wait at the Blue Airfield (in Gray?) for her cousins Zimmy and Mr Z, all three born from another mother. They never showed up. “Just like pancakes,” she groused, looking over at the monster everyone in certain parts of various continents were talking about. Knob Noster, some called it. “You know this means we’ll have to stay in the homeless shelter again, Groovey… Groover.”
“I don’t care,” he said, patting his full stomach again. One meal at a time for him, one meal, one day, one week without a 7th to show up. She could put an end to it; turn him in. But she needs a pillow tonight, apparently. She glances one last time out the window to see if any more ships were flying in. Ghosts again.
“Hey stop reaching. *My* wine. Now get behind me and fall asleep so I can too, pheh.”
“Wonder who the new bozo is over there.”
“If you get stuck at any one point, you can always go back to the Old Country to regroup,” the Man About Time softly spoke over to Newtonia Kashkow, who could barely hear what he says across the circle. Is this another time distortion? she thought. No, it’s just *him*. So mellow and meek for someone so important. Must be the effects of the travel.
“Collagesity,” he spoke more, “should become a focus again.”
Newtonia Kashkow took this in. “I know you are the same as Marcus Fox Smartville and so we are related.”
“True,” Man About Time admitted after a small pause.
“And you are *not* a sucker.”
“Only in the mind of the beholder. On this turf (Our Second Lyfe): no.” He sat confident in his tannish/goldeny brown, throne-like chair. This was his moment. He steps in to become the knight in tan armor. Or was that aroma. The smell of something hot. And unpleasant. No, that was just an anagram. He sits back up from a naturally slumping position, mind focused again away from the morass. That particular sometimes light brown substance will not play a role in this.
Oh, if she could only see what he felt. But the War between Mind and Senses wouldn’t allow it.
On the way to Kow Pond to practice with her band mates for the upcoming big ta-do there, Slash Girl got a little lost thanks to bad information from a Heart Queen spy. She ended up near *Cow* Pond, very far away from the sought after, phonetically identical pond indeed. But SG was not known as the brightest member of Redeye. That goes to Angus Girl — we’ll meet her soon in this here blog.
“*Cow* Pond,” explained Jersey the Cow at the summit, a 31 prim member of the vertu species, as was her mate Guernsey just down the slope. “At the end of Cow Road down below, which starts here at Cow Hill. So: not *Kow* Pond, pheh.” The exasperated cow turned around and blew out air, but not from her mouth.
“Well I’ll be,” exclaimed Slash Girl, picking up her hat from the bridge and placing it back on her head.
She never made it to the concert. What she called Cow County, shared between the sims of Argent here and then Bisque to the immediate east, became too fascinating in and of itself. Like Duncan before her, she remained trapped in the Color Sims for a good while.
Although she never could figure out how to pick up these sticks with the marshmallows on them for roasting, she made this Cow Hill camping spot her base of exploration.
The white leopard Herm-Sark beside her was an interloper on this hill. But he had more information than the others that, one day, not too far in the future but also not too near, he would share with Slash Girl, Duncan and the rest on this very mount. From that day forward, Cow Hill would become very sacred indeed and, through it, Cow County as a whole.
fenced-in Cow Hill at the beginning of Cow Road…
… leading to Cow Pond.
Instead, Duncan Avocado finds himself in the southeast corner of the sim of Blue on the Old Continent (Sansara), zooming in on a strange PLime flag adorned with a fused plum and lime.
Lime is the sim immediately east of here, and Plum lies immediately below Lime. Blue is the color of the pool ball he couldn’t remember the number of, but he’s not here in Blue for that reason. Instead: following leads from Kowloon. The place has magic. But Our Second Lyfe as a whole still retains the ways — YES — *before* the coming of the Blimey Limeys, as some in the Pot-D circle of more English persuasion decry the Lindens, the overlords to this world of ours. Because there was certainly a world before this world. Duncan originally found that out through Nautilus, then it spread to other continents, Maebaleia/Satori and its North-South split most prominently perhaps. You have to be quick to receive the proper messages coming from this world. And Duncan, thanks to his Pot-D training the last year, had learned nimbleness, beyond mere polished dance moves. He can dance through associative links now as well….
So Blue is still the mystery to be penetrated, he contemplates further from a nearby, green checkerboard sofa.
He remained on the Old Continent for a long, long time, never to return to Kowloon and its mysterious ways. The associative links took him elsewhere.
But we ourselves must remain in the Kowloon’s Gate Reborn themed sim a bit longer. At least until the end of the current photo-novel. Because Fish Head indeed has more information at his disposal now, thanks to the listening pipes. Goodbye Duncan! We’ll catch up with you soon enough. Happy dancing!
Continuing to read into diary 11, Fallout Guy’s step-brother Baghead Boy realizes a possible, crucial error. The text skips right over Core-Alena’s journey to the Dead Sea at The Basin in order to hurry over to Utah and The Straight to reenter Virtual from Reality.
On a nearby lake dock, office girl Magenta Rose might be skimming the same book but probably not.
Baghead Boy read well into the afternoon but still couldn’t make it past 4.