deja boom

Hank Graphite rode into town yesterday’s tomorrow for this important meeting and brought his ghost gorilla for protection — just in case. “Take me drunk I’m home,” he recites upon turning around and facing his competitors again, the “Lost Boys”. “Hadn’t heard that one.”

Ted 02 sat at the bar taking it all in. He’d been here before. Omega continent comes to mind, bartender himself.

“Whatilitbe, bud?”

He’d said that before as well. Many times.

“Gimme a Bud… bud.” Familiar too.

The establishment exploded.

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correspondents

My dearest Fern. Thank you for the recent email. It was so nice to hear from you again. Yes, I’m still stuck with the apples (bleh!), but the chafing has gone down thanks to Dr. Lice (he’s so nice). And Dr. Maggot has helped out as well; reduced the mass. But enough of me; how are you?? You said you were in this place called Paper-Soap now. Is that 2 sims rolled up into one? Resurrection of the dead, eh? Sounds like you have your hands full analyzing the place. Good that Dr. Mouse gave you a room at the asylum from which you can better study the incoming patients. They all must have fascinating stories, what with being recently dead. Lots of memories to rehash and recall while there’s still time, as you put it.

I miss you so much. You are a part of me! My white VW Beetle (white as my skin!) is still running swell, thanks to Dr. Armadillo over in Beat-town. All my doctors are so swell! CC is a wonderful place to hang out. I just discovered a Bellisseria Welcome Center here. Of all places! My art is going great — trying not to use swell again in a sentence. You warned me about repeating my words; shows symptoms of lowering IQ, and that as we get older we lose brain mass. If only I could apply that naturally to the body (apples) as well! That would be swell, haha.

Well, better end. I’ll write again soon, I promise. Good luck in Paper-Soap! Send me an im when you’re settled in and we’ll catch up in person.

Harrison Jett checks spelling and a bit of grammar then hits SEND. Done. Back and forth contact fully established with the person who means the most to him in his life so far. That is, before he met Bluebird.

(to be continued)

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00280108

“It all begins with windmills,” he declares…

“… and Mouse.”

“Hi, I’m Windmill Man and I’m proud and pleased to be adding my story to the flow of this photo-novel, which I believe is 28 in a series of… well, something or another. Kolya is a friend of mine, we can say; shared a room together at Mouse Manor, haha. Expression never changed, poor lad, no matter how he was feeling inside. Couldn’t smile, you see. Well… I *can*. See?

“Where to start, where to start? Windmills… oh I already declared that. Bottom of one of the newest subcontinents, you know. River in the center running all the way to Maebaleia; connecting East and West at last, and put in there that I capitalized east and west to emphasize that they are hemispheres: 1/2 worlds if you will. This was *important*.

“Brady Stream was the sim I’m talking about. Start of this new land, this finishing connector. Now I’m sure a lot of you readers from the outside world are shaking your head and saying, big deal, it’s just a virtual reality, one of many now, right? This one’s a little different, though, in that you have *two* worlds secretly combining into one. You’ve read about it here many times now: the simultaneous (as it were) beginning of Lime World and World of Lemon, one — the recognized one — coming from the West and the other, the one not fully known but actually more powerful, from the East. And now these two directions are linked, see.

“Windmills… let’s just go back down into the world and start at the stream.

“There I am. At the most central one.

“And also in the center of the sim. This is where it starts.”

(to be continued)

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visitors

“What’s your name, stranger?” Stu (today) Umbriel was checking out the new bar in town, this *Dinah’s*, switched from Moe’s. Moe wasn’t around any longer.

“You can just call me… Windmill Man.”

Stu looked over again with this, noted the propeller beanie on his balding skull. “Hmmm,” he thought internally. “Cool,” he said externally. “My aunt lived in a windmill.”

“So do I,” the stranger shot back, and took a long hard drink of his jungle juice produced by bartender Stumpy (hi Stumpy!) just seconds before, emptying the 1/2 coconut. “Next!” he called over to him, clanking the hollow object on the counter loudly. He didn’t even have time to wash his hands.

—–

A mysterious fern floated into town, hoping to take over someone’s mind.

No, not that one, although that’s also a fern and also floated into town. Just chance (insert nervous laugh). We’re talking about Fern Stalin, who came in on a Messenger Featherfloater from over in Brilliant, one of the most interesting rim islands of Maebaleia along with its twin of sorts: Mistery, the name a combination of mystery and misery. And it was! We should return.

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personal assistant

He next decides to catch up with Hidi; show off his discoveries on the new continents of Bellisseria to her as well. He watches the glossy, shiny wave of Treeowatoor roll in while she speaks.

“How’s Alysha, Kolya? Have you caught up with her too?” Hidi knew he did. The two girls, *ladies*, keep in touch with each other as well. Both waiting. And waiting.

“Yes. I showed her some holes.”

“Ohh?”

“Yes. Glory Holes.”

“Realllly.”

“Yes, they’re down at the stilts continent, another new landmass made by the Lindens our overlords.”

“Not *my* overlords. But *do* go on.”

“3 bodies.”

“Yess?”

“Of water.”

“Oh.” Pause as the wave crashes both figuratively and literally.  “I guess you know, then, she’s on a spaceship. She’s a controller. She’s *the* controller.”

“Spaceship?”

“Yes, Kolya. What did you guys talk about on your visit? Just holes? Watery ones?”

“Basically,” he said, seeing nothing wrong in what he did. But: spaceship. That kind of intrigued him. He wished he’d asked about it now.

“She *may* have a boyfriend. Does *that* interest you Kolya?”

He looked over at her, wry smile on her cartoon-ish lips. But he knew she wasn’t a cartoon and this was Wendy before him, wife of Jeffrey Phillips, one he couldn’t have and couldn’t hold. Except in dreams. The dreams still came.

—–

“More paperwork for you ma’am. This comes from, let’s see, Merk over in Records. Quite a bit here, in fact.”

“Just put it with the rest,” commands Alysha, tired of working for the day. She starts to dream. She starts to envision herself in the square again. In space.

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seeing green

The wastelands of my mind.

—–

“I call them the Glory Holes, Alysha, because, you see, 2 are in Glory (sim) and the 3rd is just over the line in Shining Sea. I thought you might like to see.”

“Oh Kolya, do you even know what that means?” After investigating the 3 small bodies of water a bit more, she leaves somewhat disappointed: 1/2 and 1/2. Will he ever grow up? she thinks after returning to her rotating square alone. Probably not; the holes will remain what they are and nothing more. Gathering pools for rain water.

I *think* she liked them, ponders Kolya afterwards.

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00280104

“Queer dream,” states the now black Chief in his bar by the blue swamp in the southwest corner of Paper-Soap. “Say the girl’s name is Atrophia?”

“That’s what she said. Blue hair. Blue as Heaven.” The visiting Aldebaronian glanced at his wrist. 4:20? Not on *his* watch.

Black Chief looks out the door of the small bar. “Rain now. Swamp will be getting pretty damp soon. Better rev up the dehumidifier, um, Stu. That *is* your name today, isn’t it?”

Stu Umbriel, who goes by many names since that cursed birthday party about 1 month back now where bodies began to merge together in queer ways, smiles and says it is so. “Today,” he reinforced. He moves around back to crank up the moisture removal device, which he knows the ins and outs of better than Chief, being a regular moisture producer himself. In fact: better take a leak behind the bar after I roll this baby out in the middle of the room, he thinks. He glances down. This blue blue baby. Blue? Center? Just like the (stranger’s) dream.

The rain gets harder. “Yelloo!” he exclaims behind the bar, getting wetter all the time.

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circle (blue in center)

“Kolya,” she gasped, sensing him from far away.

—–

There she is, the Aldebaronian A.O. thought. My perfection, my *opposite*. But what’s this? An *intruder*. Not on *my* watch.

He decides then and there to defeat this adversary to his true love’s hand, hidden in shadow behind that right hand stone in the above photo. Later he uncovers his real name: Jon Deere. “Mow him down,” he reiterates at the time. “Like corn.”

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home cook’n

“Your… hair. It’s very… blue.”

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still at center

Before going on another one of his adventures, Kolya pauses at the CENTER to pay respects to what he considers to be his ur-parents. “Oh Black and White (he never knew their names), I *will* live up to your name; I *will* find out who I really am and heal these wounds to my heads… head I meant there. Sorry.” He takes his leave.

“We hear. We: here.”

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