She needs something in her midriff. About, right… there. Don’t worry; doesn’t hurt. It’s all play.
Afterwards, she gives thanks to handy Ganesh for the gift of the new beginning. She’s able to turn herself off now at will. She can return home.
“Get the f- out of here. And take your dangly red legs with you too!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0515, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File, Wild West
She thought of herself as ugly, a cow even.
Later, from her perch above, she watched her bathe, thinking, If I was only that beautiful. Xia and her cat. Always the cat, even in water. Sky, land, water — didn’t matter. Sometimes she believes she is the cat. I can’t leave, Myrtle thinks. I love her too much.
“All done!” came the call from below. Then she moves toward her clothes, cat still glued to the shoulder. Another constant, let’s call it. Myrtle watches everything with great interest. She use to not be this way. There was Ted, there was John — his twin, granted, but still another person. Then Harry the Lie Detector Magician. He hooked her up one day after much pestering. “Who do you love?” he asked her with great sincerity, tricking her. “You?” she answered basically as a question, making the meter jump. “Try again,” he said with some venom. Zimmy of course. Forbidden love. But then Zimmy changed into Xia. Soul shift. She use to not be this way.
—–
“Tell me that you love me, Xia,” she said, looking over. 1/2 sincere, both knew. Xia was playing this game too. She’d learned from the best (Zimmy).
“Of course I love you, Myrtle. You’re my bestest friend in the world, even closer to me than Zimmy.” Myrtle knew Zimmy didn’t exist any longer physically so he really didn’t count. She said so.
“Oh, Zimmy’s around. I just saw him fiddling with that portal, trying to get that thing to work for *real* this time.”
Myrtle had watched *Xia* mess with the so-called portal on the porch over there just before she came for a visit. There was no Zimmy. Not any longer. Okay, she’ll play along. “Zimmy’s a good brother to you.”
“*1/2* brother,” Xia quickly added.
“1/2 brother,” Myrtle calmly corrected herself.
“He taught me everything there is to know.”
“I know.”
“I *know* you know.”
Silence between them. Xia’s feet daintily kicked the old wooden fence marking the border between their properties, reminding her that she needed to return home soon. But — so lonely over there. Only Zimmy. Like talking to a mirror sometimes, she lamented. They were only 1/2 kin to each other blood-wise but still so close that their skins almost overlapped, blood shared and then some. “Come over here,” he said just earlier, before the visit started, patting the rug below the non-blue ball.
It took about 5 days, but Xia, slowly but surely, began to think of Myrtle as a mom. *Her* mom. Zimmy’s too. This baffled Myrtle. She decided to retreat into the interior of the island for contemplation, to a parcel some call the Abyss. Maybe the term was applied later, after what happened to Myrtle. Myrtle became… dark after that.
While gone, she rented her place to an orange being. All Orange. Not useful any longer, the elves retreated back into Philip, their creator after all, if not a Dark Lord. They’d forgotten who their actual father was, and that he had been living amongst them all this time. Everyone absorbed the inevitable fall together. Dancing Chuck looked on at the mess, wondering how the heck he was going to put all these pieces back together. In the end, Zimmy became intermixed with Xia and visa versa. And Philip became part fish, part tall tale himself, the stuff of legend; many books and documents written about him. When Myrtle returned from the Abyss and kicked All Orange back to greener pastures… well, we better save some of the story for later…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0511, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File, Wild West
She woke up at 8 o’clock, another force of habit, in her starry tent, still wearing her similarly star studded ice cream outfit — the reason Marilyn knew where she belonged. She checked her legs underneath the sky purple covers. Wooden one still there, ugh. What was she *thinking*? Her Husband assured her that California was safe, and that navels were still in the center of bodies and the supreme deity known as All Orange would protect the rest. “You just have to make sure it shows a bit,” he said as they packed to leave, and demonstrated it on himself, tying his shirt above his somewhat bulging stomach. Outie. Not her cup of tea, but then some of the other parts made up for it. She recalls walking around an art gallery across the road from Rhodenwald with original hubby Axis, staring at the red and green paintings. “‘Green Monster’ — over there.” He pointed. Ruby’s life changed. She suddenly remembered the wall, the tree beings, *everything*. And Wally and its Wallytown still lives, last time she checked anyway. Not far atall from her old sim. Protection at last?
She had to go back, she determined then and there. And, dangit, she thought — checking the inworld map in her head — only a couple sims to the south and east from here. Fate. She went downstairs and thanked ever-bartending Marilyn for the good night’s sleep and trodded in that direction, trying to compensate for the slightly shorter leg and not walk around in circles.
She looks around the sauna, thinking: Jake’s a good guy, so’s John. Jim for that matter, although he does a bit too much coke for me. Will rot out his teeth one day soon down the line. But none of them are Edward. Where is my sweet, dear Edward now? Still with Shelley? Maybe even, dare I think it, *Penny*? How ironic that would be. He was toying with both of us.
Maybe I should go with John, Sandy thinks, leaning over and blowing on his hair, a possible sign of things to come (she hopes). She looks around again after retreating. Did anyone notice what I just did there, what it potentially means? Jake seems disinterested. Jim is busy with his coke. Sarah in the water is just bending down again and again trying to get the attention of the others in the room. Besides me of course. Or maybe me as well, who knows? I’ve heard rumors, but maybe that’s just more Penny foolery and trickery.
Yes, Jake definitely seems more interested in Sarah than me. I’ll mark him off. Down to Jim and John. But as she’s thinking this, Jim takes another deep draw off his coke, says “ahhh”, and smiles widely in her direction, teeth already showing a tiny bit of wear and tear. Looks like it’s down to John. She leans over once more, blows once more. His hair smells nice, like lemons. He’s also orange tinted like me, Sandy thinks. Good that the orange people stay together. She blows.
They hooked up, this Sandy Hook and John Helms fellow, but she found herself thinking of Edward all the time. Sweet cute adorable Edward. Where *is* he?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0104, Lower Austra, Wild West
To truly understand Mtn. Man we have to put ourselves in the middle of all the circles (All Circles, aka All Ears), in his place. The Orange Man descends to blue…
I believe he entered his original mountain, the start of it all… here.
And so shall we.
—–
“You didn’t even explain that the newest explored mountain, this Red Hill or Pink Peak or whatever — inside the 4th and largest circle — could be his *final* home.”
“I’ll get to that.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0508, Blue Mountain, City Park, Country Park, County Park, Google Street View, Red Hill
Inky McOilwell just before getting fired, then terminated. Didn’t see or hear the leak behind her on Sunday’s Tuesday’s Thursday of last week’s Monday’s Wednesday. The specific day was Friday I believe, unless it was Saturday. Unhappy for Inky whatever.
Despite the loss, the ridge rig kept working, thanks in part to today’s fresh recruits…
… like Ginger here, just come over from the satellite base in Azzlebury and preparing for her 10th bath of the day.
And… is that Franklin watering the plants over there? She’s alive (!).
Jesus, Lichen and Liz in their horse costumes coming through the gate now too!
—–
Fern felt she was still 1 step ahead of them, despite the progress. “What did I do to you to deserve this is all I want to know,” the fellow boat riding minion spoke up to them from his tight fitting cage.
“You exist,” spoke Fern as plainly as possible. “1/2 fruit or vegetable, 1/2 robot… all bastard. And where’s the banana I gave you to eat? Did you throw it overboard? I don’t see the peel. Better not litter in this water. You know what happens to people — and creatures — when they misbehave around here”
“I–I…” He admitted he ate the banana, peel and all. He was confused about what he was suppose to do. Yeah, he was told not to litter. Why do you think he did it? he asked them.
“Throw him in the water,” Boatman Neil said for not the first time, tired of the yapping and begging and whining. “Let the underwaters have him.” He thought about his own encounter with MessianSphere not 3 years ago. But somehow he escaped. Or did he?
“No. We need him,” spoke Fern softly back to Neil only. Because she had a plan. Fern always had a plan, for every occasion. And 7/6ths into a photo-novel still without a plot was a special one indeed. Unprecedented if memory serves, unless it was 11, 16, 21, 26, 31.
We move on…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0703, Little Hell+, Omega, Southern
“I really liked the old office,” she answered Lemont Sanford, playing the role of Arthur Kill currently, “but it was too laggy. Kept crashing. You know how it is.”
“Yes I remember.”
“You were there in the underground for a while. Training.”
“Yes.”
“After Wheeler raised you from the dead (nods from Arthur). After Tessa killed you. We buried you, the firm, but you wouldn’t stay down. You went to Tennessee.”
“Yes, Tennessee.”
“You were looking for a spider, an 8 legged being, but you eventually figured out it was a dog. Spider is a dog.”
“Right, yes.”
“You retrieved it, brought it to me for safekeeping.”
“Yes. (pause) Do you have it?”
“Of course I have it, Arthur. Would you like to see?”
“Yes, please. I mean, I have the money but… actually, nah, I’m good. You’ve given me the money. I’m happy. Wheeler and me, I mean *Shelley* and me, I, can retire in comfort.”
“Is she still wearing purple?” Roberts questioned from her opposite chair. “Or has she moved beyond that?”
“Moved beyond I think. Last time I checked.”
“Ask her to wear something purple and see how she responds.”
“She seems okay with it,” Arthur reinforced. “She’s changed, she said.”
“Are you convinced?”
Arthur paused just enough to indicate he wasn’t fully convinced. There was, well *Roberts* now, for one thing. How surreptitious they run into each other again (!). But, deep down of course, Arthur knew it wasn’t coincidence. The Gods have further plans for them, which means The Void has further plans for them. They work hand in hand on this.
Roberts leaned back, folded her arms behind her head. “So strange that Franklin was spared. I’m overjoyed of course, but whether Black Jack, Kentucky or Black Jack, Tennessee, the helicopter that acted as a plane in the moment purposely missed her, swerving to one side or another. If only Mantell could have done the same — I think he tried, I think he saw the, um, irony. Do you know the case, Arthur? It’s quite famous, at least in UFO circles. Cradle links to grave, creating an uroboros scenario. The Cross (in the middle) is eliminated. That’s the point. I’m sure you understand, Arthur, given that you’ve been there now — you rescued Shelley from there. The Cross can *trap*.”
“I think I’m still on The Cross,” Arthur admitted. “I never made it back to Nautilus. I never made it back to here, then, this office in Towerboro on the Jeogeot continent.”
“Oh you’re here,” Roberts countered.
Arthur saw a spider on the floor behind her. He then saw 5 others, 10 others maybe, all lined up like military rank or file. Roberts didn’t glance around, seemed oblivious to them. But Arthur knew she wasn’t. What was this psychic-detective up to?
“This is where it starts, Arthur. The agency. I want to know who tried to kill Franklin. In a strong probable reality she is dead. Only the actions of a rebellious, artificial pilot, a Mantell wannabe, saved her. He broke the pattern. Cradle to grave was unlinked. You were there too. You saw — how close.”
“Yes.”
“It was either the boat on fire or the rose colored cottage on fire.”
“I remember the boat.”
“And I remember the cottage.”
—–
Now where is that receiver?
He was in Pieve, Alysha beside him per usual. Her gams glistened in the morning dew; so did his, for that matter. 3.16 instead of 3. He has a bottle instead of a can so he knows this coke experience is real. We are truly back in the past.
It doesn’t work any other way, he reviewed in his mind. The circumference of the circles must be that instead of 3. City Park… County Park… Country Park, the latter basically inactive this time of year because, mainly, of the blocking poison ivy. My shortcut meadow is now full of it (!).
But City and County give me a lot to explore in the summer, which has only just started, he thinks. TOM, for one.
“Tom,” he said aloud, hoping Alysha would respond. “Um, w-what?” she said groggily, having fallen asleep in her lounge chair. Not enough shut-eye last night, she then excused herself, which Kolya obviously understood.
“Tom,” he repeated carefully, not wanting to spill the beans too early. He had become good at saving them up. But sometimes it happens. Like last night.
“Oh yes,” she recalled, stretching her arms and yawning. “The mountain… Top O’ Mountain. TOM.”
He waited a while again. “What…”
“… do you think we should do with it?” she completed for him, gams for gams. 3.16 he thought again. Something is about to begin.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0405, Blue Mountain, City Park, Country Park, County Park, Nautilus, Rim Isles
There’s two of these things now, Debbie Doom thought about the colossal *women* statues towering above her in Lorsters Worst, queen city of Nautilus’ Yd Island. For now. Could be a hopeful *sign* — things have changed, and so on. Maybe the door… but she would know soon enough. She holds the key in her hand, dream object no longer. Because dreams have come true. She was *trapped* but for a good reason. It was the only way out.
Frozen pantomime, she determined about the crowd in the center of town and walked through it all, paying no attention to the fake conversations right left back forth. One objective tonight.
She doesn’t have to unlock anything. All she has to do is hold it and–
PRESS.
Showtime.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0614, Nautilus, Yd Island
Sunklands 