“I believe, let’s see, *this* one is mine, Parasol. ‘Olive *Green* Pink.'”
“Good to know.” Parasol had finished with her chicken and was starting with the eggs. Three of ’em. Knik — Big Black Skome.
She still couldn’t see the Ants for the Eleph in the room.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0505, Corsica, Henrietta
“We’ll have to call this Widow’s Peak after this,” offered still all grown up Kate McCoy (the Real McCoy) to the others sitting around this 4 chair table. Still grieving the death of spouse Jack Snow all the way back at the end of section 1 of this here photo-novel, 18th in the series.
Irish Lass Phyllis Klondike across from her, surname reverted to her maiden one after the death of hubbie Ben Wolf in that newest Bena coup in 2 — *supposed* death — turned around in her seat to look at it. Audrey, the most recent of the widows (husband = just shot Jeffrie Phillips back in Urqhart), followed her gaze. Parasol (wife of The Mann, killed at the end of section 3), didn’t want to look but just pulled a drumstick out of her pocket and began to munch. “Grey matter,” she garbled to the now staring others. “So good.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0504, Corsica, Henrietta
From his Holy Island in Henrietta, red rose holding Marcus Fox Smartville receives more information from the laggy, texture overloaded Oracle before him.
Corsica is an elephant — yes. He already knew that, staring beyond the Oracle into the far corner of the building. He imagined the fantastical, imposing elephant there trumpeting additional, savage notes with his huge trunk which emerged as ants that came into view after spilling on the floor before it and marching toward the Oracle, hell bent on protection. Symbiotic relationship.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0502, Corsica, Henrietta
Blue rose embellished Arthur Kill stands in red ones in Joffy and peers at a picture of three, child carrying blue-ish elephants, with the 3rd also rainbow tinted. That’s the one, he thinks from his thorny position. Better get this back to Marty.
Corsica is an… well, you know the story by now.
Jeffrie Phillips had come to the end of the book. Arthur Kill eyed him keenly from the piano which he had no ability to play. His music was death. Death to Big Black Smoke, death to Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child, death to perhaps Jeffrie Phillips too. If he so chooses. The eyeing continues.
“Well… what did you think?” asks Marty from a nearby stool about the tome detailing the history of the bar and Urqhart in general. Spanking new girlfriend Linda Halsey, fresh from a broken relationship down in Adgatetown on the lower coast, was by his side, holding his arm even preoccupied with her own thoughts at the moment. I wonder how David Newton Jasper is doing, alone with his Chalcedony and other progressive math rock albums? Fine, she then thinks, imagining him playing air guitar again. How many times? She had to leave (like all the others), looks be damned.
Jeffrie Phillips decides to answer Marty since Linda’s internal monologue seemed to be over. “It was… interesting.”
“Do you understand now why we have to eliminate ‘Love Peace’, eliminate the smoke screen that was the Summer of Love, ’66 or ’67 take your pick? There is no Love. There is no Peace. This must be *revealed*.”
Arthur Kill nods agreeably from the dormant piano. This is why he sticks with Marty. Through thick and thin, the cynicism always shines through. It attracts him like a dim moth to bright light. I think of the bug again here…
Jeffrie stares out the dappled window beyond the bikes in the parking lot into the heart of the Indian Lake/Sox Pond basin. Started right here in this bar, eh? 1919 huh — double 19’s. Scandal. Black. Indian… red. White.
Phillips rezzes a local, vanilla style paper without any red atall to take his mind off the quandary, which gives Arthur Kill his cue (*pop*!). Our story must continue elsewhere.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0416, Corsica, Urqhart
“You’ve become part of the machine again, Axis.”
“I know, honey,” Axis wrongly termed the already committed and married Tronesisia. She took it in stride, knowing the bug would have its fun.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0415, Corsica, Urqhart
“I saw it,” he reaffirmed afterwards, sitting on Urqhart Hill looking over the valley, water filled in the dancing fire vision. “I guess the dam would have had to been at about Marty’s house here, then run across the gap connecting Urqhart Hill with, well, whatever that opposite peak’s name is over there.” He looks toward it as if Marty’s house was transparent. And perhaps it was in the moment, just in that instant.
Now let’s draw back and look at the whole thing, at about the same angle Jeffrie saw it in his fire vision.
Behold: the Indian Lake (Sox Pond) basin. 1919. The year fire met water and neither won.
Better get down to the bar and meet the others, he ruminated/thought/pondered.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0414, Corsica, Urqhart
“We *dance* the celebration of life, of victory,” interpreting Audrey [delete last name] declared to lover and fellow dancer Jeffrie Phillips spinning around the same, fire centered circle. “Urqhart has, amazingly, been *fulfilled*. The past can be revealed. Behold!”
Within the fire, a vision appeared about the valley below to Jeffrie. A sim sized lake — or pond — or *both*, filling up that central sink we’ve been mentioning lately, straddling the sims of Urqhart here, then Ensleigh to the west then Malhaven to its north and finally Yia Yuto to complete the (fire centered) circle. Indian Lake, he realized. But also Sox Pond. 1919, the year Big Black Smoke descended upon it and wrought its damage. An important — very important — link between Virtual and Reality in this here blog. Pennsylvania (state) and Corsica Prime (continent). Corsica is an elephant.
“Will Marty be joining us?” queried Jeffrie Phillips, building up quite a sweat trying to keep pace with jumping, jiggling Audrey.
Marty joined them. “I’m happy too!” he proclaimed, starting to dance up a storm with the others. Employee Arthur Kill then appeared behind him, just glaring around. Get this love peace crazy shit out of here, he wanted to say, but bit his tongue because of a paycheck coming up. A big one. Big Black Smoke one.
They danced until the sun came up and then a little more.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0413, Corsica, Urqhart
I was going to create a post about figures found near Urqhart, specifically two elephants in opposite corners of a house. But news just broke in Urqhart itself. Urqhart Hill, featured in the Marty-Arthur Kill interaction post from a few nights back, has been bought and paganized! The new owner: a Rhiannon, obviously a nod to Stevie Nick’s song “Rhiannon” in some form, and the Welsh legend behind it of the goddess who fell in love with a mortal and paid the price. Also I’ll remind readers that Barry X. Vampire’s subsequently murdered girlfriend Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child sat her ass on this very hill’s grass as Marty observed her from his house just below. The house still stands despite everything being a bit up in the air at the time. And that observation tower has been added. Let’s zoom in on the modified hill. A memorial? We go deeper…
—–
And here are those elephants in the neighboring Annelie sim just to finish:
Corsica (continent) is an elephant. More soon!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0412, Corsica, Urqhart
Sunklands 