Tag Archives: Arthur Kill/Lemont Sanford^*======++%%

00360704

“What are we negotiating *now*, Young Me?”

“The return of Karoz Blogger to Mainland, Jeogeot continent in particular. Somoco specifically. The Julia House to pinpoint.”

“Ahh,” spoke the old hag that was also Shelley. “You want a return to the *N* (for it).”

“Not… necessarily.”

“You *know* what that means,” she says while nodding her head up and down in an irritatingly frantic way to Shelley.

“I… do.”

—–

Wasn’t going to happen, both knew, but they were playing along. The unexpected beaver float in the cove out back pinpointed *this* location. Something had to happen here. They were experimenting. They started again.

“You *know* you will retain your current form.”

“Yes,” said Shelley back to her older self. Much older.

“You and Arthur will continue to be married. Might be rocky. Might be bumps in the road. Maybe a pothole or two. But you will persist. I should know.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you want–?”

“No.” She didn’t.

“Get in the float,” the old hag then said. “Easy as that. Transport,” she explained. “From this photo-novel to the next. Just get inside. Enjoyy.”

Shelley stared over, wondering if this was on the up and up or not. She couldn’t tell. The old witch was ahead of her again. “I’ll… give you a big ol’ choco chip cookie if you do it. You can hold it in front of you. Like a steering wheel. You are a Carr… repeat after me. You are a Carr.”

“I am a Carr.”

“You are a *Carr*.”

“I *am* a Carr.”

“You are… well, you know the rest.”

—–

“Come on, Carr,” urged Clifton Mahoney, full transferred over from Baker Bloch. “I know it’s early but your bath is 5 days overdue. Get your drying moss ready.”

“Broken,” the great olive being replied.

“I know. We’re going to get you fixed up… cleaned up.”

“Not what–”

“I know. Come on, get up. I know you can do it.”

“Need… help.”

“Why I’m here.” And he moved toward Carr to help her get started.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0704, Jeogeot, Middleton^, Towerboro

00360614

When the death card was dealt he’d seen enough and turned his back on them, walking away. Ocean it is today, not mountains. Not Ant and his history.

“I”m so glad you decided to come back, Arthur,” she spoke with full heart as the dark castle on the mount continued to recede into the distance, mentally if not necessarily physically. They were wrapping up their honeymoon in Mortons Gap, getting ready to head home.

Wherever that was. Probably Soos Mountain Community I would think. It was all being prepared.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0614, Corsica, Jeogeot, Middleton^, Northwest^, Towerboro

00360513

She received clarification in another witch house near the Head Line in Hooktip, her old stopping grounds. PCH Forest — many a day she could be found roaming these woods for magical trinkets, practicing magical spells. This is where, for example, she came up with a mate named George, a future husband she declared to him after he physically manifested before her, not quite mature but getting there. A boy 13 to 10 to 13 to 10 over and over (as it turned out), always gaining 6 inches to reach the upper extreme, always with horns or antlers by that time. On sunnier days he could even glimpse 18.


from the files: bigger George. With horns or antlers.

Anyway, the new, proper board’s planchette further indicated or emphasized the importance of the 5 point star to add to the already highlighted ending/beginning Z, obvious reference to her cat Mysti, long long left behind but still the best of friends, we assume. She even named herself that after the cat in one of her incarnations (switching the i and the y), an homage to the past in more ways than one.


from the files: Misty.

Yes, she recalls that. Quite close to here, in a retro town defunct for several years now. Took up all or almost all of Myron, a couple of sims directly west of Hooktip. Arthur was also there in a way. Except she called him Septimius. Septimius Felton, a name which has resurface recently. Darn full moon, darn wandering feet on a full moon. She ended up beside him, which now was a her. But it was still Arthur in a way, in a manner. Too hard to explain to him, though. Must keep that a big secret still — the trip to Red Marsh and Maroonville, sometimes called Redtown because of the overarching sim. Santa was born there, some say — legend goes. Santman.

She also found a book with a golden butterfly on the front, mirroring the name of the property: Golden Hours. Inside she read about herself.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0513, Heterocera, Myron^, VHC City^

00360512

Now Arthur finds a similar meditation pillow on which to sit. Shining 01, he thinks. Is he a Shining 02?

He must be. They are one beneath it all, after all (he believed). Soulmates. Counterparts. Two paths meet and unite. If not in the moment — separate for a bit again. She’s over exploring the witch house. She’d found something. A witch. An old hag with real long hair wearing a gimmicky orange and black Halloween costume, although she said that’s just part of her schtick.

“Do you understand… the pages?” she asked before Shelley could ask about the same — jumping ahead of her. Unusual for Shelley. Could this be? Nah, couldn’t.

Shelley looked at them flying about above the table and a little beyond on all sides. Almost in danger of hitting her face but she kept steady, not blinking. She instinctively knew this wouldn’t hurt her. Ahh, she recalls Jem in her eyes, checking the blog again, making sure she’s up to speed. Jem had this power. Edward Daigle asked her to shut it down so he could be *safe*. She’ll not make that error between her legs here. Conception. “Arkansaw?” she tried with some assurance. She stared over at the eyes. Umbrella too, she recognized. This was her.

Arthur walked into the room, having finished his own exploration once more. The pages fell like cards out of the air, fluttering down to the ground and on the table before her — them. The witch was gone. The witch had never been here. Physically. She picked up a piece, studying. It contained a picture of a prism, white light leading in, colored out. 2 parts, 2 1/2s. She looked at Arthur. He remained refracted, unable to unite the various selves as whole. She — different now. She had seen herself in the future. Sitting here. Dealing with these cards, the life she’s led. It all led to here. Purity, happiness… maybe. God at least.

She saw shadows of a pained face on Arthur’s face, amplifying the shock that was already there. Yes, he saw pages/paper flying in the air of their own accord, then the spell was broken. The Ouija planchette beneath them had also ceased moving.

Stopped on Z; she knew where to head next. All the way back to the beginning which would then become the new end.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0512, Heterocera, Pond District^, VHC City^

Shining 01

—–

“Find anything in that holler down there?”

“Oh, a book. And a cave full of crystals. The book reminded me of Hucka.”

“Hucka? How do you know…?”

“I know a lot,” answered Shelley Struthers to recently husbanded boyfriend Arthur Kill, who sometimes steps out of character to play Lemont Sanford up in or toward Real Life. And now there’s a 3rd Life to deal with. On Our Second Lyfe’s computer if you know how to log in. And we do.

Arthur looked over, nodding. “The umbrella eyes, yes.” Library in her eyes, he knew. She doesn’t need the physical stuff any longer. All in the head.

“How ’bout you? Find anything? Up here?”

“Lemme think about that.”

—–

“Just a lot of monuments and tombs,” he finally answered her after fleshing in his own local backstory a bit. “One statue seemed to not have a head, but then I realized the angel on top just had her head down and the bun in her hair appeared like a, er, untopped neck.” He picked this particular monument to talk about for a reason.

They just needed a little bit of time away from each other to contemplate by themselves, why they’re here in the first place. Heterocera. Home of the *Head* Line, the Heart Line. Shelley’s old home on the former — apt. still there, actually, at the triple point in Hooktip, even if she never is. That was a long time ago for her, her Firesign period with its silly puns and innuendos. She hadn’t moved on. Just absorbed… assimilated. ‘Nother one.

—–

“Real Linden water down there, I found out.”

“Fascinating.” He found himself arching an eyebrow even. Making him think of another fake head removal, another “long long ago.” Soo many memories now. Encounter with “God.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0511, Heterocera, Pond District^, VHC City^

00360414

Geez that gray woman has been out there quite a while, Shelley thinks, having woken up in a strange camper in the sim above Mortons Gap but then recalling the story.  She could hear the crashing of the waves when she stirred, a reassuring sound. Arthur must be around. They were just too tired to walk all the way back to the hotel after visiting the Ant Castle up on the mountain, quite a climb to get to. So they just bunked down here as the sun set into the ocean, just to do something different, they agreed. “No one around,” spoke her newlywed husband. “Why not,” she replied. But that gray person… actual owner? Telling me I’m intruding on her property? Could just ask, she thought as she took another sip of coffee and continued reading the article she started, it seemed, a 1/2 hour ago. Ooo, she thought. Just there. The woman took on appearance; just for a second. Yes, staring right at me, it seems (!). Better gather up Arthur and head back to the hotel. Probably down on the beach.

—–

He comes here often and just sits and listens. “Getz/Gilberto” always seems to be spinning on the turntable, the record that started it all for bossa nova, as he learned. Steely eyed Luther stirs the patriotic soup slowly and deliberately, like an automaton instead of an actual person. ‘Nother “gray” being. And what has Clifton Mahoney got on the docket today? Well — beach. Just like Shelley and Arthur. Coming up is a collision course of information that would change everyone’s world. The Ant Castle was not what it seemed (!).

—–

Barry down at the pier would be involved too. Because after 8 straight days of angling it was about time to head home. Art studio. Just below the castle. Barry’d seen and heard things there he didn’t want to dwell upon, didn’t want to be in such close proximity to. Thus the trip into town, to the beach, to the pier. Sanity in contrast. Warm sense of people around. F-ing cold in the gray granite mountains above Mortons Gap this time of year, but not necessarily that kind of cold. Remote kind of cold, the worst type. Barry liked privacy when he painted but enough was enough. But, also, he couldn’t stay away forever, had to face the devil sometime.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0414, Corsica, Northwest^

trunks

Shelley loves hanging around the beach. Arthur and she have such a great time night after night, day after day here… in Mortons Gap overall. She could see living here, staying here. A bit laggy, but they’re working on it, reducing shaders, draw distance, etc. Even minimizing screens, their view on the world, if needed. It wasn’t ideal. But — so pretty.


If she could just erase that full moon faux pas from her memory. What did Arthur do that night? she wondered for certainly not the first time. Because she’d found lipstick on his coat which wasn’t hers — she rarely uses it except when they hit the town. And the smell of lobsters. Or was it crabs? — she’d have to check the difference between the 2 later on when they walk down to the fisheries. Do it nice and subtle.

Nearby Arthur was building another one of his patented sand castles, complete with ants that he’d found on the vegetated dunes in back. He was trying to recreate the past. In truth, someone had put a spell on him. George/Musician most likely, if only from his dreams. He wanted to walk up to the real Ant Castle later that day, thus Shelley’s excuse to visit the fisheries kind of on the way. Ah heck, she’ll just ask him. Why does she care if he stayed with another woman that night. *She* was with a woman that night. Served her right. Painful, very painful, but… what was the right expression for it? Tit for tat, she decided. Or tit for tit — something.

She swung down from the palm tree, walked over. “About ready to go?”

He was about to coronate the new king and queen of the ants after building their thrones. “5 more minutes,” he requested, herding the crowd in the right direction.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0413, Corsica, Northwest^

00360411

Good to see you back home and safe, Mrs. Shelley,” spoke Sam the bartender. “Mister Arthur was looking for you this morning. Said he was going for a walk — Ant Castle I believe was specifically referenced by the sir.”

“Yeah,” spoke Shelley. “I didn’t come home last night. Wandered down The Trunk.” Sam nods here understandably and sympathetically, having heard this before. “Got lost.”

“Aah The Moon again,” he said, knowing it was full last night. “Did you do anything you can’t take back?”

“I…’m not sure.”

“Then you better choose. Dark Side or Light Side. And which is which in your mind. Because if you don’t, The Moon will choose for you. I approximate you have about 1 month to decide. Or 27 or 28 days, ma’am. Which *service* will you choose?”

Pretty profound words there from a bartender, but, then again, he was studying for the priesthood. Or to be a gourmet chef… choice will also come to him soon. She decides and I decide, he realizes. Because instead of praying he was cooking up a storm last night, shrimp, lobster and crab being the victims in order. “Rock’n it,” he said at one point in the heat of creativity, expertly blackening a shrimp with one hand while boiling a lobster to perfection with another. Master chef. Or not… a crab dropped out of the pan while he had a moment of doubt, fear creeping into and intruding on unconditional love. God, he thought later. God disapproves of this night.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0411, Corsica, Northwest^

00360409

She was hoping beyond belief. “Tattoo parlor?” she tried, drawn in by the butterflies.

“Hair salon,” replied glowing pink haired Sep Felton, not seen in a while. Not since Wallytown, I believe.

“Any?…”

“Nah,” answered Sep to Shelley. “Too small (of a town),” she explained about the lack of such establishments. “Haven’t seen you around — figured you were a stranger.” She takes in her visitor. At first she thought: plain. Now she’s starting to reconsider. “Where…?”

“Morgans Gap,” Shelley said, anticipating Sep’s own question here. “Vacation — honeymoon, actually. Just bumming around the neighborhood.”

“Well, you’re a pretty fur piece down The Trunk to find this place (!).”

“Yeah, I guess. Got the wandering feet today.”

“Where’s the significant other?” Sep began to fantasize a relationship with the increasingly cute visitor. She couldn’t help herself.

Where *was* Shelley’s recently married hubby, if not just married? Their honeymoon had been postponed for a month because they had to find exactly the right spot to do it. Morgans Gap was the place no doubt. They were visiting a gallery in the area, heard about the Ant Castle on the mountain above the town, and the rest fell into place pretty quickly. Arthur Kill withdrew some saved money for the purpose out of the bank and handed it over to 3 1/2 star rated Hotel Higashiyama down on the beach of the town. They haven’t regretted it one moment. More role play tonight, Arthur promised. If she can get back before bedtime. She checks her online map. Dang. How did she get so far away?

“Well…” tried Sep — hoping beyond belief herself this time. “I have a spare room upstairs if you don’t think you can make it back tonight. Sun will be setting in about an hour. Just saying… trying to be hospitable. Us Marooners like to cultivate that reputation.” Which was true, although Sep knew she was trying to cultivate something else. Better end this post and check her history in the photo-novels.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0409, Corsica, Northwest^

Yellowmoon Ridge

There’s grass (living) and there’s hay (dead).

Dr. Back appears ant-like on the hill. No going back.

“It’s a girl, Mrs. Kill.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0317, Corsica, Northwest^