Tag Archives: All Orange^*+^^+

boy or girl

The 4th and probably last Squishy Pickle on the Pickles, 01 and 02, one surrounded by water in a shallow bay this time.  This would be the second found on Pickle 02, the green one as opposed to the sand colored one we’ve seen Sandman and Ant-man and a couple of others at.

Someone was waiting for me out front. All Orange. But never mind that right this moment…

Returning to the merged map seen several posts back, we can now mark the 4 Squishy Pickles by green (Pickle 02) and yellow (Pickle 01) pins. A rough square emerges, perhaps close enough to indicate a master plan. I’ll just number them in the order discovered, starting with the one next to what’s called the Hideaway or Hideout, which links the whole concept, strangely enough, to Rosehaven. This is most likely how the witch Mid-Hazel moved from one to the other, and, now, All Orange too.

So… returning to that…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0412, Bellisaria, Black Ice, NWES Island, Pickle 01, Pickle 02

coming up roses

“Where does it say we are?”

Cat-witch Esmerelda searches some more. “Rosehaven.”

“Rose *Heaven*?” Mid-Hazel responds, perhaps in jest.

“Haven. Like a place of rest.”

“Rose Haven, then. Is that two words?”

“One. Rosehaven,” she says quicker.

“We’ll make it two to separate it from the locals. Won’t know where to look for it when we make our reports.”

Esmerelda the cat-witch stopped typing. “Shouldn’t we ask them first?” She looked around the face but not directly into those always scary, dead white eyes of hers. Never the eyes, or not for very long anyways. She could still feel them boring into her like steely beams of hate.

“I do not wish to confront the ruler of this land to ask that question. Unless you have other suggestions.” Mid-Hazel didn’t want suggestions. She wanted obedience. Esmerelda shook her head. “No ma’am. No suggestions. No *more*.”

Mid-Hazel then nodded, pleased in the moment. She looked out the window at the freshly fallen snow. She could hide here for a while; make this a hideaway until the hubbub about the Bellisaria murders calmed down. The bodies kept heaping up as she looked around and saw more enter the room where she just committed the first. Did Jenny Lind plan to have a *party* tonight? she asked as she stabbed some more. It was a rhetorical question. Obviously she did in some manner. 1-2-3-4, then the 5th to top it off. All Orange that one was. Mid-Hazel figured Aldebaran as a home planet. Aliens in Our Second Lyfe. She’d heard of such things, of course, but never this close up. And orange blood as well: hard to tell where the wound stopped and the person began; All Orange indeed. She carted them out to the garden for burial, not knowing the gardener was due the next day to reseed the roses. Soon enough, the top of an orange finger stuck out of the ground. Aldebaronians were extremely hard to kill, and had the ability to heal themselves to a remarkable degree. Mid-Hazel didn’t know that fact. The finger clawed and clawed and got another orange finger free, then the 2 worked in concert to free another, and then the 3 another, and then the 4 another, the 5th. All Orange had emerged. The hapless gardener took her place in the makeshift grave. All Orange was a killer as well. She had faked her own death to get revenge.

“Rose Heaven?” she asked her typing assistant later at a different but not dissimilar location, another witch hideout.

“Haven,” the assistant responded. Perfect.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0309, Bellisaria, Pickle 01, Rose Heaven-

Elven Mist

“It was a little toddler. Just like you Toddles. In fact…”

“Don’t say it,” she requested while having another spurt. We had just finished up the 3rd game of pool after she sank the Homer ball — as we started to call it in game 1 — for the win. I retrieved the yellow sphere from the side pocket and placed it back in the center, along with all the others. Losers have to rack. I kept pondering while I did. Toddles was now about 5′ 10″, so not a toddler. I was wrong in that, a loser once more. 3 feet to start, then a little under 4 1/2 after the second, then this. How much would she grow? I thought back to broken Big Boy at the entrance to the abandoned and clearly haunted park with the baby holding a doll. This tall? I fairly easily made it between the legs, but clearly an error to enter.

“Continue your story,” she requested while bending over to break the triangle (*crack!*). 6 balls sunk right off the bat; odds are stacked way against him to begin. With height comes increased skills, seemingly. I decided to appease her.

“Kite flying Jimmy Jackson and fly fishing Johnny Jimson were down at the pier, absorbed in their pastimes and trying to ignore the stench of the bodies that had freshly washed up on the shore that morning.”

“‘Ahh, there’s our old friend Reader perusing the octopus book’, I said, peering around the pier more, ‘perhaps looking for a smell spell to end it all.'”

“Octopus? Where’s this going?” she asked. The 7 ball was sunk, then the 2, then the 6. Did she even have any left; had she already won once more? He checked: not the Homer ball this time, but the orange, the 5th. It seemed to smile at him, telling him she was the one, the only. Here was All Orange in the flesh. The pool stick lowered, aimed…

“… annnd *CUT*!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0307, Elven Mist, HANA LEI, Rose Heaven-

All Orange

“Vandalism, child. Someone’s added that yellow boy to *both* parts of the collage.”

Calm Grammy calm, thinks Toddles the psychic toddler, sensing something higher going on here. She sees a revamp of the entire Red Umbrella gallery sometime soon built around this change. Canada: she knew it was always going to end with our cold neighbor to the North. Pictures; they’re starting to enter all the pictures.

The boy is somehow 102. She wonders what *that* means.

“I’m so disgusted with all this, Toddles, I think I’ll just go home and play with my belt. Become one with it.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0216, Black Ice, Bogota, collages 2d, Great Belt, NWES Island, Picturetown, Red Umbrella

Mary York x 2

“See. I *told* you if we waited long enough he would change colors.”

“Very good, Sandy. I need to tell a story now.”

“Go ahead, Wheeler, um, Wendy,” encouraged Sandy. It was her turn after all.

“I was wheeling my way from Picturetown, trying not to be late for the Blue Feather meeting with Baker and, er, the other one. The green toy fellow.”

“You know his name,” Sandy complained.

“Anyway, I see my name on the side of a small square house as it comes into view around another house…”

“Lemme guess. Which has the same name.”

“Yes!”

“Do you want my apples yet?” asks Harrison Ford Jett opposite Sandy now, waiting his turn. He was eager to give them up. He wanted to be a man for Charlene.

“Not yet. We already have the orange and that’s enough for now,” answered Sandy. “Bananas: not needed.”

“So I’ve heard.” Harrison Ford Jett glances sideways at his own partner, his own bestie. They both knew something the other 2 didn’t. That Charlene the Punk was… well it should be obvious by the shirt. We’ll get a pic in a moment. Back to Picturetown and Wendy’s story who is the same as Wheeler.

“In that frozen moment, it was then I noticed a (red) car on the other side of the road from the buildings with my name, also coming into clear view from behind a passing truck. Before the obscuration I knew it was an ordinary car. Now, after the passing, it had a flat. Then *I* had a flat. I became the car.”

“Carrcassonnee?” Harrison Ford Jett guessed, turning his attention to the story and away from his gnawing apples, those chafing, gnawing things in his shirt-blouse. His head pivots to Charlene. “Carrcassonnee is a deity of the Temple…”

“I know who Carrcassonnee is. She’s talking about a car.” Let’s get a picture of that shirt in the pause here.

Oh well, turns out we can’t see it from this angle. Sandy presses the issue on. “Blue again,” he says while staring at the tiny snowman in the midst of it all, formerly All Orange. “We’re losing the reader’s attention.” He wondered if he remembered that line correctly. Must be director Eraserhead Man breaking the 4th wall once more. He glanced at the camera, pretending it was the reader he mentioned. He complimented himself for the improvisation before fully coming back into character.


Wheeler/Wendy as a car.

“I looked over at the square building again. My name was obscured once more (around the corner). I knew I couldn’t make it to the meeting on time. Then, in a flash, everything changed. A boy came by on a skateboard.”

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0208, Canada/Picturetown, Google Street View, Marwood, NWES Island

besties

“It’s over, Sandy,” Baker Bloch said from the bench in front of the canvas. The search for All Orange: done.”

“I know,” he speaks over from the game he and Wendy and perhaps several others are playing. Not Carcassonne, but close, because tiles are involved, jigsaw shaped ones in this case, which they are sitting on as well as playing with. They are playing with themselves.

“Whose move, Wendy?” he asks.

“Yours.” They switch jigsaw pieces with each other while Baker continues to stare.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0207, Marwood, NWES Island

redhead

“Well, the apartment’s ours again, Wendy. We have a new start here at Bigfoot.”

“Wonderful.” She was truly happy about the situation. She was truly Wendy in the moment, mediocre actress Alice Frame a far away dream for both of them. It was just like with Breeze before. Sandy should have known by the names — Wendy; Breeze. Together: Breezy, the archetype thereof.

“But I do insist you change into the other dress as soon as possible. The Twins are still out there… somewhere. The Cub Run consignment store is a thing to be reckoned with.”

“I know.” She smooths her present dress’ puffed out nature, not ready to show Sandy too much too soon. She knew how he was. But she was ready to take the gamble that she could change him. She’s betting that he’s ready to settle down with one woman and one woman only. For more than a week’s stretch. The search for All Orange: over. She knew she was the one. The right dress will come soon enough. Then he can see what he wants to.

“Let’s run away, Wendy,” Sandy then tries. “Forget about The Twins. We’ll hide out in one of the suburb cities away from town, maybe this Meat City I’ve been studying up on. There’s a place there you can dance. My new friend Francis can probably get you a job. Then I can run the slot machines next door or something. Maybe work at a newspaper office like I did before in Tinseltown–”

“Stop,” she demanded. Both knew the impossibility of it all. They were stuck in Town, formerly the City before the council told everyone otherwise. Their new landlord MAT is fighting it — wrote a strong guest editorial in the well respected Meat City Post, a true up and coming rival to the NWES City Gazette which I guess will have to be changed to the NWES Town Gazette now, perhaps weakening its position as top dog further. Collagesity be damned, Sandy thinks. But MAT makes some persuasive arguments.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0514, Apple's Orchard, NWES Island

Sunklands Institute

“Aren’t you a little light to be a Blue Berry Girl?” Sandy quickly tried to backpedal the comment. “I mean, the *blue* and all.” He looked away from her crossed arms and her stare. He didn’t want to seem racist, but had stumbled into a big pile of awkwardness. Constance, sensing this, tried to lighten the mood.

“I knew what you meant.”

“I know you did, I know you did.” He was back to his confident self after the bumble. Should he ask her out on a date? Too soon? He thought again of his quest for the alchemical endpoint of All Blue, turned to All Orange for the purposes of this here blog. Started as a child when he saw the perfectly round, orange-like navel in a box. We covered that in photo-novel 10. And better make that a navel orange back in that sentence before last. In a fruit box.

“If you don’t want me, you can leave me.”

He leaned forward, switching gears. “Try the other one, Wheeler. If you don’t mind. She’s going to show up sooner than later. Best to test it out now.”

“I’ll do better than that,” Wheeler currently playing the role of Constance Blueberry said back to Baker Bloch currently playing the role of character-actor Sandy Beech.

So just for the record, here we have two core avatars interacting with each other so no need for that collaging effect I spoke about earlier. This is Baker Bloch, this is Wheeler. Not 2 characters of Baker Bloch or 2 characters of Wheeler, etc. On with the show…

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0510, Heterocera, Iris

the one

“You think he’ll go back?” asked Philip Strevor to his partner in crime Marion Harding, wearing his Gaeta V shirt for this particular shoot.

“Maybe.”

“He has to,” quickly came the reply. “He has to find that demon that killed our little girl.” His voice was becoming anxious, murderous even. Philip had not smoked any pot to take the edge off the racier drugs he was currently imbibing. Marion, in contrast, only did the marijuana. So much here! Mixed in with red wine per usual; balancing the red and the blue as he liked to say. Easier said than done. Like tragedy and comedy in life as a whole.

“Philip,” Marion tried to calm him, “have you ever thought about how we got from Gaston to here. I mean, *really* thought about it. The chain of events that leads from one to the other.” He looks around, at the other hippies milling about the place. Well, *he’s* a hippie. Philip definitely was the odd man out in this bunch. So much pot, so much booze. But the racier drugs were few and far apart. This wasn’t Philip’s place in the end. Corsica really wasn’t his continent. Gaeta V suited him better. But Capitol City and its Capitol Hill were no more. Returned to the swamp they arose from. Flattened back to the pancake prairie it started as. Pancakes… Laboratories. Marion suddenly had an idea.

“Philip, how would you like to return to Gaeta V? Just for a bit.”

http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Eddison/242/165/27

—–

—–

I’m just going to have this red wine but you eat as many pancakes as you like, Philip.”

“Oh *goody*.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0207, Corsica, Gaeta V, Southwest, Twin Peaks, Twin Peaks Laboratory

alchemical

It’s a strange place for certain. And big! It *could* work — that’s why he’s here. Especially given that he’s just found his long sought for All Orange. I started to write “seemingly”, but, no, he’s found it. The Rose but also The Thorn.

“I’ll *make* it work,” he says aloud to no one in particular. “I have motivation now. But where to next?”

There was a simple answer. Home. Just in the back there.

I must do something with the place, he ruminates when entering. Especially since he has a bonafide assistant now. Joy!

—–

“Soooo. Herbert Dune — that’s his name?”

“Yes,” answers Baker Bloch to Hucka Doobie. They’re back!

“He’s in one part of Apple’s Orchard. And his girlfriend — *assistant* — is in another part, more to the north. South and north.”

“That’s our limits (!) For the present.”

—–

Meanwhile, in the Faux Rhino Club across this sim, Breeze, reverted to plain ol’ Merry Gouldbusk for the afternoon at least, had just heard out Herbert Gold’s profession of love for her. Two in two days! she thought to herself. When a woman is in demand, she’s in demand! “H-how did you find me?” she asked innocently. She knew the larger answer to that. Destined couples have a way of getting together, no matter how the surface odds are stacked against them. But she has Herbert Dune now. Confusion! Good confusion, though. She is wanted! And… another *Herbert*. What’s with that?

“It was your last letter to me,” he explained. “About half a year back. You mentioned NWES — New WES I think you called it at the time.”

“That’s right. I remember. I said I wanted a change, a new life. Ingo can run Rosehaven by himself now. It’s *his* kingdom, yes.”

“As opposed to your queendom.” He looked her over good. “Soooo…”

—-

“And he basically asked her flat out if she had decided on a sex for herself. He’d touched her in two places before; knew there was some mixed up boy-girl confusion going on up here… and down here.” Hucka Doobie was fondling the appropriate places on her body.

“I know what you’re talking about, Hucka Doobie. No need for the grabbing and such. Welll?”

“All of a sudden,” the bee-person continued, “she didn’t know again. It’s when she first laid eyes on Herbert, walking down the street beside her apartment on 108 Rib Lane.”

“Actually, I think it’s Serpent Avenue.”

“Whatever,” Hucka Doobie quickly followed. “But the skin came back, the *mask* came back. She was all glinty goldeny again, much to her dismay. She thought it was over and that she had found true home. Home with Herbert. But there was *another* Herbert to deal with.”

“Maybe *he* should just steal her golden skin. His last name is Gold, after all. And — what about April Mae? Is she left behind forever down at West End in, where was it, the Irish Village in that Fi sim?”

“Well… the 4th had to be reached. Rubedo. End of Work.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0207, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, NWES Island