Morgan Freechild always stops at Ephant Mountain on his way from Fearzom to Fearzum. It’s on his flight path after all, plus he use to rent a cottage here, right down there to his left. Now, in the days of massive mainland downsizing, all that’s left on the mountain is a single green cedar, planted right at its very apex. He enjoys the great view one last time…
… since (Tron)Axis hides in the foliage with Wheeler above, deadly frisbee thingie in hand.
*SLICE*.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0607, Corsica, Northwest
Axis was in his secret hideaway in Rond, but not so secret that he didn’t have to move again. “I got the dirt on Sand – Man,” Wheeler started again, still in the beautiful and lovely black gown worn on her dates with the man-clown. “We have all the information we need. Why not let Morgan live?”
“Because he has to *die*.” Axis was firm in his evil way. He was washing his hands for the 14th time today and then implored Wheeler, once more, to do the same. Gotta keep the demon virus away, he urged. No time for quarantines. Must have freedom of motion to finish the job, social distancing be damned. “Didn’t do Lily no harm,” he said another time. Except it did, because she preceded her former husband Morgan into the grave by about, oh, 15 days. Lily didn’t leave Morgan. Lily left the Land of the Living itself.
I’m starting to think Axis is evil incarnate.
“Okay get over here and wash yours. We gotta get to Ephant before Heartbreak Boy.” They swap places.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0606, Corsica, Northwest
He was traveling down the Elephant’s Trunk, like Ant before him. Axis kept track of his progress with red pins, bigger and brighter than ever. Next stop if his dastardly design goes according to plan: Ephant. At the base of the trunk and marking it as truly an elephant’s. Axis knew his furloughed boss would land there. He always did.
The trap is set.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0605, Corsica, Northwest
He sighs. “Black *is* beautiful. Oh Lily, why you do me this way? Why you do me this way?”
——
“Li-ly! Oh my darling wife Li-ly! Former wife Li-”
The phone rings, grinding Morgan Freechild’s attempt at a song to a halt. It’s Axis again.
——
“I *will* give your love to Lily,” he speaks into the phone to Axis a bit later. “Yeah, she’s right here,” he lies, “playing the piano as usual, he he.” Axis indicates he can’t wait to see them again; just has to tie up some business in *Fearzum* — *not* Fearzom — always gets a laugh, which Morgan does. “Okay, well I guess, um, I’ll see you after *that* — whatever it is.” Axis says he can’t talk about it then commences to talk about it for the next 15 minutes. “Sandman, eh?” responds Morgan Freechild to what he was revealing with obvious worry. “Well I haven’t seen or heard from him since he started preaching over at the Main Cheese Church in Heterocera; started wearing clown makeup all the time. I wonder what this Ant Man wants from him?” Axis replies that the name of the big ant is just Ant, with no Man attached and that would be a copyright issue if so. “Maybe that’s what it is, then,” says Morgan Freechild, administrative skills kicking in again. He was taking a break from all that, and Axis’ currently empty house fit the bill perfectly. Mountain retreat. Fearzom and not Fearzum. Strange, Morgan thinks once more, that Axis is involved in both. Maybe *I* should get involved with this, he ponders. Not tell Axis, just fly in and be done with it in a few hours. No stress involved. None atall. His old heart would be ticking none the worse for it. Good to get back to the old job, at least for a couple of hours. He decides then and there: Axis seems to need him.
It would be the worse decision of his life. Let’s just say he’ll never finish that love song.
flying back
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0604, Corsica, Northwest
Ant figures out how to hang up so’s he can make another call, this time to old friend Hucka Doobie.
“Hiya Hucka, old friend. How’s it buzzing? haha. What’s the buzz, I mean. Listen. (reply) She’s fine — thanks for asking. Anyway, get this, I just hung up one of your old *Blinkerton* works in my castle over here at [Elephants Trunk], hehe. (surprised reply) Yeah, I’m staring right at the *ant* who’s taking a piss on the whole world. Reminds me of Trump. (reply) Oh right, not suppose to say that here. (reply) Monitoring, huh? (longer reply) Uh huh? (shorter longer reply) Uh hum. (reply) Well, I must say, I think things will come around in the end and run him over from behind. The ass will get hit in his ass! (reply) Yeah, I agree. But we could talk politics all night, me and you. Like back in the Bomb Squad. Those were the days! (longer reply) Right, Jimmy’s okay. I just talked to him last week. He’s totally over the yellow jacket fever. Wearing red these days. (reply) Oh, I guess that could be a kind of joke. (reply) Yeah, I want to talk to you about, you know, how you were a bee and all and now you’re kind of human and such. H-how does that all work? I know you’ve explained it to me, but just review it again (reply) Yeah, you got it. I’m thinking about changing myself. (reply) I know it will be hard. I’ve got a rock solid plan. (reply) Oh August — Easter in August. (reply) Easter *is* in August this year? (short reply) Oh, yucks, you’re a funny one. Guess you still got the old Blinkerton in you still, the joker.” Ant looks at the Charles Nelson Blinkerton work just hung on the wall, and reads. “‘Sawmill *Heir* Wins Pis-Ant Reward Ha.’ What was the other hotel sign you changed? (reply) ‘Rebel Ho’s’, right. Not as successful. *This* one won that award. (reply) What’s the plan, heh? Well (he turns), we better ask Stan.”
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“Hello, Axis? Hiya, it’s Ant here. (reply) No, Ant, not *your* Aunt — any of the many of ’em. *The* Ant. Listen, I have a proposition. We’re downsizing here at [Elephant’s Trunk] because of the possible upcoming recession and all — (reply) what’s that? (repeat reply) YES, they’ll be a recession, perhaps a depression, but I’m not too depressed about it, hehe — (reply) Huh? Easter? What? Does Easter come in *August* this year, haha. Always gets a laugh. (reply) Yeah, yeah I’m practicing for a standup comedy routine, ho ho. Okay, to business. Parasol, you know, the red and blue eyed gal — lives up in Splinterwood last I heard. No, make that Benangatron or Benny or whatever they call that vampire burg these days. (reply) Phyllis — that could be it. Anyway, she’s just itching and itching and scratching and even clawing me a bit to bring back The Man, you know, her husband. (reply) I don’t know *when* that happened. They just sprung it on me one day. Parasol showed me that big red and blue ring on her — (reply) What’s that? (repeat reply). *That’s* where they had their honeymoon? (repeat reply). I don’t know where that is, Axis. (reply) Say I’ll know soon enough, eh? Wise guy eh? (reply) Oh you’re smart all right. Anyway — lost my train of thought here. (reply) Yeah right, The Man — thanks. Listen I don’t have any more time to talk. Just set up a meeting with me at Fearzum. (reply) No, I don’t mean your *house*. I said Fearzum. We’ve been through this a 1000 times. Fearzom and Fearzum are *different* sims. Just so happens that both are connected to you, weirdly enough. (reply) Yes, I said *Fearzum*. Now this is important. Bring the *Sandman*. (reply) You heard me. Just bring him. I’ll take care of things on this end. (reply) Well thanks for that, and goodbye to you too. See ya.”
A click on the other end, disconnecting Axis to Ant.
Staring at the receiver, Ant talks over to the man also on the phone next to him. “Hey Stan? I don’t know how to hang this thing up. How do you hang it up?”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0602, Corsica, Northwest
I can still build here, good. Motocyclone is still a go.
I will become one with my castle.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0601, Corsica, Northwest
I kept staring and staring at the Oracle in Henrietta until I became something else.
Now perhaps I can start to understand the thing.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0518, Corsica, Henrietta
My friend Veyot posted a timely video on her tumblr site re dragons and the coronavirus.
She also makes collages. Cool!
https://veyot.tumblr.com/tagged/collage
Thanks for sticking with me all these years old friend! I’ll try to fit The Last Drop over in nearby Rosewood into this here photo-novel soon. In fact…
It appears to be growing! And I think SEAN is LOST.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0517, Corsica, Egg Hill Sink
She tried to decide how to position herself when he entered the store. Should she be staring at the eggs? Away, perhaps at the closed or opened door on the other side? What would be more dramatic? What would be more *correct*?
She’d been rehearsing for weeks. “Formosa,” she declared down to him confidently at another time — perhaps he is sitting on the ground before her in a compliant position — “is a LOST island as well. *I*, Kate McCoy, formerly little Katy Kidd of Benangatron, have decided to *avow* my responsibilities to that supposedly responsible island. I *do not* want to be chained down by Big Government — unable to roam about freely.” She does a couple of rapid model poses to emphasize freedom of motion. In her mind, he stares up, a slave to her every tantalizing move.
Eventually, they would get to the eggs, and the sale thereof. “5000 lindens for *one*,” she spoked firmly. “And I get to choose. They’re all the same magical being but still — my choice.”
“Um,” he uttered rather helplessly, knowing that would about clean out his bank account. How would he eat for the next week? The eggs certainly weren’t food. And who knows what the magical being inside really was. Would it be yet *another* mouth to feed? Still — he felt he had no choice. He nodded, clicking on her and depositing 5000 into her own Our Second Lyfe account. She smiled, but not in a good way. She owned the boy now.
He left with the egg to now unbridled cackling behind him.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0516, Corsica, Egg Hill Sink
Sunklands 