stories

“See Musician? I told you I’d send for you.

Just had to find the right pose.”

“Let’s find another one,” he demanded.

—–

“Not as good, Wheeler Wilson.”

“Shmursguug.”

—–

“I don’t understand what we’re doing here, Wheeler.”

“Shut up and get off my back you heavy lug.”

—–

“Another one with the back, Musician.”

“I think you’re suppose to be the man here, Wheeler.”

“Typical. And you’re getting your pink punk hair in my eye again.”

“A couple more still,” he requests.

—–

“It’s the owl’s head ring, Musician, hehe. Go ahead. You know you wanna.”

“Oh Jesus me,” he croons playfully while still clasping hand to mouth.

—–

“Psst. Don’t look now, Musician,” Wheeler whispered. “But that little red man is back again, ha.”

—–

“I’m pregnant, Wheeler Wilson. And this man who’s been following us around is our future son Sammy.”

“Makes sense.”

But then Jimmy breaks the spell. “Hi. I was wondering if you knew where the bathrooms are around here.”

—–

“I kind of miss Jimmy since he left, Wheeler.”

“Me too.”

“Let’s go find him and invite him to lunch with us.”

“Great idea!”

—–

“This is my favorite one of all.”

“Look, Musician, there’s Jimmy. Over here Jimmy!”

—–

“Trade with me, punk. I want to get to know Jimmy better.”

—–

“Service around here is awful, eh Jimmy?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0107, Comfrey, Gaeta V

hidden technicolor

Wheeler and The Musician realized that they weren’t going to be leaving Comfrey anytime soon.


“You stay camped here tonight, Musician, while I explore the rest of the place.”

But, still, all vacations have to end.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0106, Comfrey, Gaeta V

All Mary’s

“I’m real, you know. I’m not just a doll.”

“You’re not my Mary,” a slightly drunk Pitch Darkly grumbles. He looks up. “What did I get you for our one month anniversary together?”

“Sapphire,” she quickly responded. “Pen.” She points toward her scarf. “The one I’m wearing.”

“Impressive,” Pitch says with a head tilt and a smirk. “So do all you clones know everything about each other? You Clem clones?”

“We’re not clones. We’re all the same. There’s a difference. Let me show you something. I want to introduce you to my friends here. Do you have time?”

“Sure,” replies Pitch. What’s time here? he thinks to himself.

—–

“Pitch Darkly,” says the seated Mary in a nearby building. “These are my mates Patti (“Hi!”), Ben (“Hellooo!”), Paul (“Likewise!”) and Tammi (“Nice to meet you!”). Why don’t you have a seat, Pitch. Have a drink as well. There’s a bar right over there.”

“No thanks, I’ll stand.” Pitch was trying to determine what this was. A party of mannequins? But Mary still talks to me. And all the others responded as well.

—–

Suddenly he was across the room, standing before Mary still but with a new friend this time. “We’ll get back to the party soon enough, Pitch. I wanted you to meet Steven first. I met him shortly after Hana Lei was destroyed by snow and ice… couldn’t handle the weight. Steven is a brick layer. Best in the four sim region.”

Steven stands up, shakes Pitch’s hand vigorously with a vise grip. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard so many things about you.” He glances over at Mary and returns to his seat.

—–

Then he was at the bar in another part of the same floor. Mary was bartending again. Another Bucket of Blood manifests in front of him out of thin air. The sun was setting on Clemscott. The automatic lights were warming up.

“So you see, we’re not clones. We’re all the same. Every last one of us. All Mary’s. Like Nancy before us. Like *everyone*, really. Like you, Pitch Darkly. Who are you deep inside that white, bloodied exterior? You know.”

But Pitch’s mind was not set on philosophy tonight. Something more basal and immediate troubled him. “So you have a new boyfriend now,” he blurts with aching heart.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0105, Clemscott-, Gaeta V

Clemscott

Pitch Darkly teleports into the centre of Clemscott. As he knew from previous visits, the owner of the sim had marked the spot with a grassy, oval lozenge. This Clem fellow. Clem Scott maybe. Smart like a Fox.

Merlin’s Mound dead ahead, as Pitch has dubbed it. Grassy green like the central object he stands upon. Extension?

What, if anything, is buried within?

This is a grassy avenue just beyond that interests Pitch greatly for reasons I won’t go into just yet.

The avenue extends along the north side of… well I’m just going to let the pictures basically tell the story.

According to these signs adorning the surrounding square shaped wall in all 4 of its corners, the fenced-in region of approx. 1024 meters (32 x 32 meters) holds what are apparently experimental building projects, with apologies given for the involved dust. You can actually buy the wall and attached signs for 50 lindens. Pitch is tempted…


Walled region.


Viewing platform?


Banana and apple.

Once again, Pitch realizes he’s not going to be able to figure it out tonight. He must move on. But not before noting this 32 meters long “measuring rod” extending well below the surface here. 32 meters is also the length of each side of the walled compound.


Walled region and “Merlin’s Mound”.

Pitch decides to quench his parched throat at a neighboring bar before continuing. “Bucket of blood,” he requests to the familiar bartender. “No nails.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0104, Clemscott-, Gaeta V

spots

Meanwhile, the upper 2/3rds of *Story Room*, so to speak — Pretty Man and Earie/Chuck — had decided to splurge on an early Christmas present and vacation in luxurious Comfrey on the Gaeta continent, noted for its staged environments. But those names are misnomers at this point, as Wheeler Wilson had fully changed back into a woman now after leaving the role of Pretty Man behind in Gaston, while The Musician had similarly set aside his desire to play female Chuck Cheese in addition to male Earie. So we’ve got a sort of reset for these two back to VHC City days from earlier in 2017. And I suppose that may mean they’re actually not the top 2/3rds of Story Room any longer either. Shoot.

The vacation literally got off on the wrong foot when Wheeler slipped on an icy spot while stepping out of the unicorn drawn carriage which brought them to their lodgings.

But luckily the fall only hurt her pride. New-ish shoulder pet Sidechick Corea was okay too.


“Pheh.”

—–

Baker Bloch — er, Pitch Darkly also had new digs, albeit of a more modest variety. He stares out from his porch across the water toward Clemscott, owned by the creator of his beloved Mary. He’s also decided to return to a prime state. He will not give up on his dolls.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0103, Clemscott-, Comfrey, Gaeta V

middle and upper

She logged in then saw him squarely facing her directly up Old Cannon Road. Baker Blinker and Baker Bloch didn’t meet enough in Our Second Lyfe, I realized. I had them decide to share a perch meal at Perch together and catch up.

—–

“How’s Pitch doing? I heard he’s still trying to decide whether to buy a new Mary or not.”

Baker Bloch took another sip of his strong German beer before answering Baker Blinker, then instead said: “When did Perch get this beer on tap? I don’t remember it.”

“Oh I don’t know. I’m not here (in Collagesity) that much. So about Pitch…”

“Let me have a word with the garson.” He turns toward the center of the restaurant. “Garson!” he called and then snapped his fingers.

So rude, Baker Blinker thought.

—–

15 minutes later, their garson appears.

“He should have been here ages ago,” the male Baker continues complaining to the female Baker.

—–

I’ll just summarize what was discussed at this meeting between the two town owners. Pitch has not given up on getting back together with Mary, but sees her in a very different light now that he keeps visiting her creator’s home over in Clemscott and pokes around more. Such a bizarre place, Baker Bloch tells Baker Blinker. Pitch can’t figure it out. Then, of course, Baker Blinker herself wants to see, which I’ll get to in a little while. Karoz is growing weary of life in Chilbo now that his favorite coffee and sweets shop formerly located in the Stinna Biddle Gallery there has been derezzed. They may be moving back to Collagesity; Baker Bloch gets chills with this news. Rocky Racco has returned from the Gulf War and sealed up the sand castle portal occupying his lower floor by having Caucasian Tommy Brade toss the owl’s head ring into the Ichelus volcano, thereby destroying it and Brade both. He said he got the idea from a popular Middle Earth book. The only proper way into *Middle*town now, Baker Bloch explains to Baker Blinker, is through The Kidd. They both stare over at the upper 2/3rds of the Kidd Tower again with this.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0102, Heterocera, Rubi

Return

The war over, Tronesisia pilots her Pink Baron back to Middletown to begin civilian life again. Her wheels touch down precisely on the 2 yellow rubber lines of Main Street just beyond Treasure Bay. Perfect 3 point landing.

But she hadn’t earned the moniker of flying ace for naught. 20 Frenchmen alone shot down! She returned a war hero, with all the accompanying accolades. She was a baroness now, due to marry Lord Bendington on the 25th (Christmas Day).

What about former lover Peter SoSo you may ask? Left behind in the ashes of battle bombs. Unable to extract himself from the high life in Hana Lei. Tronesisia desired more for her own life than just wobbling around stoned all the time. She desired accomplishments… medals. Badges signifying significance.

She strides powerfully into the skyscraper with her penthouse apartment. Surely soon to be renamed Baroness Towers, she thinks. Or some equivalent. “Hello, Ms. Tronesisia,” Bert the doorman says at the entrance. “Welcome back.” After she passes, he rushes into the work room to tell Timmy, Ben, and Wanisa to fetch her luggage out of the plane posthaste. Word spread fast through town. “Ms. Tronesisia is back, Ms. Tronesisia is back!” She was loved and feared by the citizens of Middletown.

“Ahh, good to be home!” she exclaims on her patio while sipping strong German beer and looking out across the sea. Soon she would be surrounded by royalty. She imagines them sitting all around her now, talking of her war glories and helping her take steps to make sure her celebrity status pays dividends in the marketplace of what surely will be a post-war boom.

Finished with her beer, she heads inside to retrieve another from the top-of-the-line Italian refrigerator. She pauses at a certain point, sensing something different… new.

Tronesisia doesn’t see the bottom 1/3rd of the Kidd Tower just below her this particular night. Billie Jean Kidd had been unsuccessful so far in bringing the remaining 2/3rds to Middletown to make it clearly visible from this window of the penthouse apartment. But soon she would. And then Tronesisia’s dreams of life as a post-war baroness would all melt away.

She would remember who she was, at the core.

“At the core,” Billie Jean Kidd echoes down below.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0101, Jeogeot, Middleton

End?

Rocky goes back to Middletown and sets monstrously green Gregg Oden free from his small prison. He immediately becomes red clad Greg Ogden again, planning out his next oil painting of Treasure Hill (*not* a watercolor). Rocky sees an army base nearby and decides to turn in his resignation. Since entering the war 4 days back, Rocky had risen to the rank of lieutenant, soon to be captain in several more hours. It was time to end the insanity before he climbed to the very top of the ranks and was in charge of the whole kit and caboodle. He didn’t want to be trapped in that!

“Wrong side,” he said while looking at the wall behind the central desk within. “Oh well, it’s all games and pretend anyway.” He then saw the name on the typewriter at the desk. He sat down and studied it to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. The brand name: Raccoon.

Rocky found himself typing. And typing and typing. In a matter of hours, he had unfurled his whole story from Olde Lapara Towne, Collagesity, and Middletown. The stack of paper by his side kept growing higher, yet he went on. Future adventures. Collagesity and beyond. Mushroom house in the Adirondacks. Must keep going higher. Higher. To the top.

Two days later he was finally finished. He had risen to the rank of 5 star general, overseeing the whole Gulf engagement. He sent word to his lesser generals. Put down your arms. The insanity is over. There is no war any more. There never was.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0617, Jeogeot, Middleton

Rocky’s Ships

Rocky found that when he tried to sit on the destroyer in order to plant the bombs and, er, destroy it, he seemed to *become* the ship. No deployment of explosives possible. Eventually the Japanese ship that Rocky has merged with passes another of the same nationality, and Rocky unsits and tries his luck with that one instead.

Same basic situation: he can’t sit on the ship because it keeps moving and he does not. Several times he tries, but keeps falling to the ocean floor behind it. He gives up, and wanders to the top of a nearby underwater hill, laying his long cooled gun beside him.

He looks around; scans in every direction. Nothing, he thinks. There is nothing here. No war, he realizes. No sides to choose from. It was all a dream. I’ve been living a dream ever since my webbed feet touched mainland and I entered that battle camp. Rocky looked at his gun, which he’d named while practicing target shooting in Olde Lapara Towne down in Grasslands last month, the last time he would do so in that location. “Time to go home, Terry,” he addressed it.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0616, Jeogeot, Middleton

Alex and Albert 02

“Let me out of here,” he cried in his high, wispy voice. “I’m Gregg Oden! I drink… I drink Baileys from a shoe.”

“Not until you choose a side,” a gun toting Rocky persists. He didn’t have the heart to shoot Greg Ogden on the spot several days back so he just bought a small freebie jail to hold him in. Then *this* happened shortly afterwards — red to green again. Inexplicable.

Rocky stared west from whence he came. “What else might come through that cursed sand castle portal over on the volcano island?” he asked himself.

“You don’t understand little raccoon man. I haven’t painted a watercolor of myself or Baileys in a week. I’m dying for lack of art. Gregg Oden needs art to live,” he insisted.

“Shut up with your yammering,” Rocky voiced, tired of hearing the poor pitiful creature rant on and on about basically nothing. “I need to think. We’ve been on this perch long enough. There’s a war going on!”

“I know Alex,” Gregg Oden then said more mysteriously after a pause. “And Albert. They could help you with your little war. Could help one side or the other win. I hide them in a special place.” He looked down at his tutu, then back up. “I can help you out raccoon man… if you help me out.”

Just then, Rocky spots a ship passing in front of the Zebrasil-Ichelus island. He employs remote viewing, sees the flag, and decides to go after it.

Lucky for Rocky, because he was about to be manjinaed by Gregg Oden just like poor Terry and others before him.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0615, Jeogeot, Middleton