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.”
Tag Archives: Arthur Kill/Lemont SanfordGTAV^*++%%
Mortons Gap, Corisca, Our Second Lyfe
Greater and lesser.
OMG, Barry’s here. Fishing. The magic continues…
We’ll catch up with him a little later (!).
RN earns cash by making pots. Well: *a* pot. And it’s coming along very slowly, it appears.
Many cats in the city.
Will meditate for money. Arthur Kill decides to join him in the background.
A single red tree (object of meditation).
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0316, Corsica, Northwest
gamers
—–
“The guy’s been there forever,” whispered Shelley.
“I really want to play Pac Man,” replies Arthur in a not as hushed voice.
“How… (she glanced over) how about Space Invaders? Right next to him — you haven’t played that as I recall.”
“Really?” is all Arthur could say to this, giving her a look. Pac Man is classic. Space Invaders is a game for *kids* in his opinion, a shoot-em-up. Not even on the level of archaic Pong.
—–
They went next door to sip on saki for a while but the bleeps and blips from the now lone player at the arcade persisted. “Might as well go back to the hotel, dearest. Prepare for Liz again. I’m kind of eager to try out that broken telephone booth outside — see what kind of action that can produce.”
But Arthur wouldn’t relent, not for that and apparently not for anything. He’d stay here at the upper end of Mortons Gap until the ends of the Earth.
Does this also spell the end of Arthur in our story? Shelley has many suitors available to her, it seems. But there’s Liz. Yes, Liz. Arthur also recalls that and finally relents and goes back to the hotel, eventually ending up at the booth like she desired.
“Hello?” she starts the roleplay. “Is this the Moon?” She slams the receiver back into its carriage. “Damn thing’s broke — no *4*!” On cue, a telephone repairman saunters up to the booth outside, loaded down with the tools of his trade around a maximized belt. Until he dispenses with it.
“Dang, Shelley. Just not in the *mood*. Can’t get *over* that guy back there!”
Yes, Arthur might need to disappear from our story for a while. There’s always Keanoob. And Edward, who most call Eddy these days. Might as well drag another character into the story. Appears to be a motif for the novel by this point — character overload. Location will help stabilize: Mortons Gap here. Both of ’em, actually. 2 places at once.
“she just wanted to be included”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0315, Bogota, collages 2d, Corsica, Ebbert, Kentucky, Northwest
00360314
“Over here, Arthur. Behind the bushes!”
—–
“Black against white. As it should be.”
—–
“You’re not ashamed of us still?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean, well. The bushes.”
She sighs. “It’s just so we could get more romantic. Towel has a better view of the rocks over there I like so much.”
“Ropes, yeah.” Arthur stared out, thinking of George/Musician. “Have you heard from him lately?”
“Him?”
“You know. Him.”
—–
“Strange dreams, yeah.” Continuing, he thinks to himself.
“Moon is bright tonight. Better get you back to the hotel.”
“Okay.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0314, Corsica, Northwest
00360311
She figured if she didn’t find paradise in Mortons Gap, where would she? Bartender Keanoob was cute, and also a good talker. Not that she’s looking any more — she has Arthur after all. They’re married now, at least last time I checked.
Yes, married. This is most likely their honeymoon destination. There were some Durexian-Trojan war memorials here, plus the Ant Castle, whose history also fascinated Arthur. Shelley was pliable — she could go anywhere as long as there’s beach, sun, drink and decent internet access. It was okay here, not the best but doable. She could log onto 3rd Life relatively easy, although for best results she had to reduce her graphics by getting rid of all the shaders. And also minimizing the screen at times. But it was manageable. She’ll play on it a little later, after Arthur has gone to bed. But first: a drink.
“Lemons’ freshly squeezed, Shelley,” spoke Keanoob in his pleasant Japanese accent. He didn’t look like he was from that country but he claimed to be a native. He points to the lemon tree that we look between the split trunk of in that photo above.
“Oh dear,” she said, looking at the time on her watch. “Better get back to the hotel, Keanoob. I’ll have to save that drink for later.”
“Oh okay. You know where to find me!” he called as she dashed off.
He put away the lemons, cussing at his lack of action. Shelley had that effect on men, though. Made them want to follow her to the ends of the Earth, Second Lyfe style. Funny how 1st and 3rd Life are spelled with an “i”, while Second isn’t. Must be a middle problem.
Limes. Only stuck with limes now. “Tequila, Lucy?”
“Sure.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0311, Corsica, Northwest
place of honor
“You are heart, I am spade, I get it.”
“Balancing point,” replied Shelley.
“Liz,” said Arthur, making her nod. “Both polarities in one.”
“Decision time,” spoke Shelley. “Heterocera or Nautilus or even somewhere else.”
“Looks like Heterocera made a move.” He looked at the painting again, the signature. Selen. Like the sim Selenia they had been investigating before stumbling upon this gallery and this exhibit (“Junction Points”) through Minnow.
“And the Heart Line Jem has been inspecting,” reminded Shelley to Arthur, her former boyfriend, her current husband. In the vast majority of Our Second Life, if not Morgan. But the town of Morgan (Orient PO) was dead. Probably all for the best.
“Baker said he missed Rubi, the woods. This is kind of a way to go back.”
“Nautilus is it,” Shelley stood firm, not ready to give up her castle. She had invested a lot by now. Plus the link to Iowa. She said this to Arthur.
“No option for the rebirth of Collagesity in Fordham, I’m afraid,” Arthur continued as Devil’s advocate.
“No, Arthur. That probably won’t happen. Even though *I’m* still there.”
“You and Franklin.”
Shelley paused before replying. A package had come yesterday for her thought-to-be assimilated tall, green friend. Roberts — Christmas present. She reached for it across the tracks. It contain (as Franklin described it afterwards) the Gang of Willard that blog owner Baker had taken away from her, like a misguided surgeon. Roberts bought it back. And brought it back.
“Franklin is gone,” she said, making Arthur arch his eyebrow.
“Baker won’t be happy,” he said.
“Baker can go to f-ing *hell*.”
“Hmmm.” Arthur looked over. The Retro Backless Dress below the steaming face seemed to fit. *She* was a throwback, non-mesh to name one aspect of that. She was closer to the Lemony Past than most people would suspect if they took her in surfacely. This box has depth, this box has a top and a bottom. Okay, she said Nautilus — stay on Nautilus. Must get back to that.
—–
Yellowmoon, Corsica continent:
“Here, Arthur. This is about Nautilus and its lemony past. Just that easy.”
—–
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0212, Corsica, HANA LEI, Heterocera, Iris, Nautilus, Northwest, Pond District, Rooster's Peninsula
hanging around
“I had a dream about Dub again last night. Talked to him over on that couch again.”
“Black dude?”
“Yeah. Asked him about the jungle, how I get back. He picked up a guitar with no strings.”
“Oh. New (!).”
“Yeah, and he played it, but it sounded like a recording, with the echo and all.”
“A dub. Guitar dub.”
“In a way I suppose.” She reached over, took his hand. If she could only play the strings to *his* heart.
—–
“It must have been that book you were reading. By the hot tub. Up above the main pool.”
“I recall.”
“Was the jungle mentioned specifically within?”
She thought back. “Can’t recall (that).”
He sipped on his Russian Roulette, borrowed from her earlier. Said her stomach was a little upset from before. The tension, she excused herself. Both blamed each other, and then, afterwards, themselves.
—–
“Are you going to go back into the box now?”
She thought about it. “I’ve decided… that 777 dollars is quite reasonable for something we can, er, style together. I don’t want to be a slave prisoner. I want to be a woman. Shackles removed.”
“I see.” Arthur Kill thought about this. Liz remained the ultimate goal, how to get there, how to *make*. Singularity awaiting, even looming by this point. A black hole and white hole together. Ylem.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0115, Nautilus, NORTH
00350707
It was at the end and not the beginning but the marriage finally came through.
“Do you have a problem with this?” Newt ask in a low voice as the I do’s were being said. “Speak now, you know.”
“Why would I have any problems with this?” said Wheeler back. “Shelley would just run around with other men behind his back if she married George. This way she’ll be happy. Or at least have a chance to be.”
“Do you, Shelley, take Lemont slash Arthur…”
“And there’s always Liz,” whispered Newt.
“Yes.”
“Should we end there? Again?”
“Why not.”
“You may kiss the bride.”
END OF “SUNKLANDS 2022 LATER”!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0707, Nautilus, NORTH
00350706
“So, Residents of Paradise Lost, we, Shelley and I, head back to Omaha, which is in Oklahoma after all!”
“You’ll never make it!” shouted Fern below, reunited with Lichen since the latter was finished with her horse subplot. Poor Liz. “Wrong state, buddy!” she clarified.
But Abbey Abdominator, the Grey who was also several other people of this town, as in an actor playing multiple roles in the same film,* knew exactly how this thing worked… and ended. “So long everyone!” he said as the balloon rose into the sky and he expertly maneuvered it due north, soon enough dwindling to a point and gone as the few townspeople gathered on the rooftop at the launching pad kept staring….
Shelley snapped awake, pulling away from The Void, The Emptiness. Arthur, she immediately thought. I’ve got to tell Arthur!
—–
*SEE: Harry/Jerry, MessiaenSphere, Wizard Wells, Big Boy, Billy Bloodsworth, others
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0706, Little Hell+, Nautilus, Omega, Southern
cake = lie
And so we end with Stiggy the Bluebird arriving early for her supposed birthday party, asking where the spectacular cake was Elanea promised to show her. Elanea said she’s it, then fired a tranquilizer dart right in her forehead between the eyes, then dragged her back into the kitchen to be prepared. One too many jokes about her amphibian nature for Elanea to stand. And she’d spewed the same racist type insults to people in powerful positions like reptilian Stu in Marketing, human Pamela in Waste Management, and, most importantly and most damning, to the Big Boy himself, calling him a [delete name]. To the Abyss she must go, he declared, which was his own personal word for the Void, having been raised a devout Tilist all those years ago, memories and rituals sticking like glue. The others decided the degree.
After the party, they prepared one cross that had the wrong year of death — had to be redone (too much partying, perhaps). A second, sturdier and more upright one was made by Harold the Carpenter, a gnome sent down by Head Office to do the task right, along with another named Jack who’d dig and fill in the grave. No coffin needed, though: no part of her remained to be buried by the time Elanea finished with the knives and saws and the gnomes arrived, not even her heart, deemed inedible from her species but which was still put into the cake just for spite and to rub it in all the way.
The bird was George.
Shelley’s still beating heart only pointed one direction after that. Biff Carter provided an interesting alternative but had aged 20 years overnight, thus eliminating him from the picture. Big Boy again, of course — [delete name] again the hurled insult. Only Arthur remained. And through him Liz. The marriage will take place at the beginning of the next section, 7 in a series of 6.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0617, Little Hell+, Nautilus, NORTH, Omega, Southern
Sunklands 