Tag Archives: Arthur Kill/Lemont SanfordGTAV^*+++++%%

Thieves Landing (perfect time machine (pair of cards))

“No. *Not* like Blackbeard. It’s Red Head Beardy… shoot, let me start again. It’s Red *Dead*–”

“Why don’t I just call you Redbeard, eh?” she suggested with an interruption, hand laying on his chest. Red hair also there, she then realized, running her fingers softly through it; red hair all over, actually. “Or how about just Red?” Again, he’d heard this before. He’d turned in his hair. At a motel, he’s picking up. To be more myself, he thought.

“Oh *okay*.” He rolled over while taking her hand, looked straight into her pretty green eyes like a door or a phone. “*Black*,” he playfully chided with a return name. “Now about that ship?”

—–

She couldn’t find the free one in the inventory she had in mind, goofy looking but oh so reliable and roomy despite the odd shape. She decided to just let him have her own (The Black Pearl). On one condition: she goes too. Wherever this mysterious “X” spot is. He said there’s buried treasure to be found in the past there. 150,000 American dollars, which translates to roughly 5,000,000 dollars present day. “We just have to go there and find it in the center of the X, buy gold with it, and then come back here to cash in and spend — I’ve got it all mapped out. We’ll have to land in Mexico and take a smaller boat to the opposite shore. Or maybe just swim if the distance is not too prohibitive across the channel. How’s your swimming skills?”

“Let’s take the boat,” she said, dismissing the swimming part, not wanting to grease herself all up before going into town, this Backwater place, he said.

The name had been changed from before to protect the innocent.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0510, Mountain Lake^, Omega^^, RDR2

sounds like Serendipity (people call her Dip)

“Anyway, I thought you’d want to know about your cousin.”

“Thanks, Marsha. We haven’t really interacted with each other in years. But: ‘preciate the news.” She takes another drag off her cigarette, this Serenity Lane, related to Shelley Lane through their fathers who are brothers, she said.

“It’s not like she’s totally gone, though. She’s in here.” And Marsha pointed to her heart to indicate the inside nature of the other Lane now. “Actually she provided me with the (grown up) body during the conversion. The other one, a girl named Brown, provided the gestures and maybe the conscience of the conceived entity.”

“You,” spoke Serenity, still trying to wrap her brain around the concept. A three-in-one, she pondered. Another drag. That means…

“Yes, I’m Marsha ‘Pink’ Krakow still,” Marsha continued, “because of the hair, the hot pink clothes and shoes. But mainly the hair.” She tugged at it, indicating it wasn’t a wig and that it was a permanent part of the body now. Unlike before. Although she had an important add-on of similar tint. Some pigtails. She was waiting for that special someone to show the thing off to. She’s working on it by process of elimination, Arthur Kill (hubby to Shelley) already decided upon and sent away. Next up: Edward Daigle, the fantasy boyfriend inside the novels which were as real as the outside, one penetrating and interweaving with the other. She had a hard time telling them apart any more. But that was yesterday. Today is today. So odd she finds the 1st cousin of one of her 3 constituents in Big Sandy, and not far from the central Rocky Comfort atall, just over the sound from it. Maybe it’s the actual reason she came here. She’s finding many odd things about the region, starting with multiple giant bugs.

“How long have you been here? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not atall.” She put out the cigarette in the palm of her other hand and then used the same to count years, no sign of pain detected and no burn mark left. Magic, we can guess, which would continue. “One two three four five,” she said, indicating the fingers in order from thumb to pinkie on the somehow undamaged hand, then again: “six seven eight, let’s see, nine. Nine years.”

Marsha “Pink” Krakow knew the original continent of the Bellissaria complex was only formed 5 years ago. So either Serenity was lying or she was living in an alternate universe where time operated differently. Turns out it was the latter.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0112, Bellisaria, Sandfly

00400104

She logged into Our Second Lyfe to see who else was on line. Sometimes it was easier that way.

—–

“I wanted to talk to you first since you’re the husband. How well did you know Shelley?”

“You, ahem, act like she’s dead.”

“No no, not dead,” Marsha “Pink” Krakow protested. “*Within*.”

“Well… she was my wife.”

“Yes?” Marsha urged.

“And my lover of course.”

“Right?”

“And a friend.” He sips his now cool coffee. They’ve been at it for a while. Marsha is trying to justify keeping Arthur Kill around.

“And she still is,” Marsha reiterated the “not dead” part. Within, she thought. Within *her*. Then Marsha stifled the urge to gasp as she looked next door. Happened all the time since the conversion, the merger. Luckily she had coffee in her hand to remind her gesturing arm this time. She’ll beat it, though. Tammy (or Frankie) “Beige” Brown should remain within, as a conscience perhaps. She’ll figure it out. What’s done is done and all; no going back.

“Did you know,” she said, still staring at the neighbor’s house opposite the direction of Sandy’s we just discussed, “that I’ve met him before. The (eastward) neighbor and all. Not his person, his *statue*. Imagine that?”

“Mountain Lake,” she specified the location. “I use to skinny dip up there!”

—–

Suddenly she was back there, coffee cup still in hand but not animated any longer. The statue up on the ridge was gone — no surprise since it’d been perhaps 5 years since she’d been here. But, amazing to her, the *skinny dippers* were still around, just down in the water below from her default landing spot. Ditsy and Zizzy, she even recalled the names. Brabinites, they were. Or maybe Bravinites, one or the other she’s pretty sure. How could the thing they worship — 5 years ago again — be her neighbor now, just by chance since Linden homes like her Sandfly trailer are randomly assigned?

And that gets me to another topic. I’ve decided to call the sandy region Marsha lives in now *Big Sandy* instead of Sandfly, which is instead returned to the name of an included sim and that alone. More soon…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0104, Bellisaria, Mountain Lake^, Omega^^, Sandfly

00400101

Third time’s the charm as they say. Wheeler/Shelley has found a temporary home in the Sandfly region of the original Bellissaria continent, along with her two boys. A powerful psychic told her that down the road she’d have to choose between Arthur and Edward. But for now she’s treating them as one. Two fer One, 1/2 price on each. Bargain, she says. Cheap as cake, or at least yogurt. This region, this sandy place, embodies that idea.

She may have functional neighbors we’ll see.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0101, Bellisaria, Sandfly

00390508

Pitch eventually found Wheeler in another one of those Hana Lei lands, specifically designed for kids this go around. And that’s how our Shelley Struthers, now reverted to a child — at least temporarily — got involved.

“What happened to her face?” Pitch asked Shelley after they were able to separate away from Wheeler for some private talk. “It’s like, I don’t know, 2 things superimposed on each other that don’t belong.”

“Yeah, the blonde hair,” Shelley agreed. Then she explained that it went back to when Wheeler was underneath the chocolate all that time, lapping it up like some kind of deranged dog. “Must have done something to her complexion.”

“Hmm,” Pitch said to this. “Shouldn’t she, then, I don’t know, turn *brown* or something?” Not blonde, he additionally thought.

“Might not work like that,” quickly answered small Shelley, already wise way beyond her age. For she wasn’t really she in the hallucination. This is kind of combining several layers into one, smooshing them altogether like a club sandwich in a vise. Thus the picture of the faces in the carnival poseboard, I believe they call them. To illustrate or symbolize the change (another flattening).

But this might be better: Wheeler preparing to take a ride on the Olympia Looping roller coaster, drawn in by the 4 colors of TILE displayed all around. “TILE” she said to the attendant after he asked for her ticket. Jim Crochet Wedding Dress let her ride anyway, little voice in his ear telling him so. The Big Boss, or at least one of the Big Bosses, Wonka I believe. Or Wonky. Wonky like Willa, ha ha. OK, I’ll stop, Wheeler. So getting back to her (always her, never me it seems lately), she takes a ride, but she also calls over a companion. “Arthur, I need you Arthur,” she said in the message accompanying the teleport offer. “I need you more than ever.” Take in what happens when I trip the light fantastic, she added to herself. Because she knew she’d see stars; they were just that bonded by this point. She’d write all this up from the perspective of Edward later on, about 2:01 in the morning, she’s guessing. Always seems to be that or around that.

“What happened to your face?” he asked upon showing up.

“Never mind that, I’ll change before we start looping.” And he got in beside her, ready for a start. With her deformed mug still in place, she kissed.

“I love you Wheeler!” he shouted before the TILE colors even came into play: still on orange. All Orange, as it turned out. The rest was mere refraction from the whole.

Pitch just stood there at the bottom beside Jim, wondering what happened to Shelley as he watched blue turn into red turn into green turn into yellow to end the looping. All grown up again and gone? he wondered. He’d find out soon enough (here come the cars).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0508, Hana Lei^^

wrong righted?

They were deep in the portal and Edward was her chosen beau, if by default. No more Arthur, but for a good reason. Shelley packs her ring away and decides to dance again, but Eddie went too far per usual and it got him into trouble. Between crests of a wave, this can happen.

But the dancing then continues. Endlessly, thanks to this place.

“Cowabunga!” I suppose.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0214, Hana Lei^^

X’s and

Mr. Babyface’s big mouth on his huge head forms an O. He realizes he’s been staring at perfection all this time, volcano at top, familiar green green Xilted and its now grassy fields at the bottom. All answers lie here.

Al temporarily staying over at the Temple of TILE until they get a true custodian of the place was thinking along the same lines. Paradise found. His itchy and scratchy down there has suddenly and, to him, miraculously cleared up, even though it appears to be exacerbated especially by heat and it’s now basically the middle of the summer. Subtract the bit o’ heartburn which he’s not worried about (he’ll adjust his meal again tonight to further pinpoint the issue), he realizes he hadn’t been this healthy in years. From this center of power combining present past future, he wonders what’s next for Shelley, for Arthur and Edward, for Mr. Babyface and whoever shows up to be his companion and sounding board for more Big E/Big Schwa theories in the Kidd Tower, perhaps old lover Greg Ogden (who can still change into green green Gregg Oden when provoked), or maybe nephew Peter Ladd, a cousin of Lamb’s Paul and thus from a different mother, even though they both call Babyface Uncle.

Mr. Babyface has the impression that Shelley and her boat boys will be moving out of the top of Kidd Tower soon, tired of the limited space there. Soon, then, his dining room and his staring chair will be backed by (the map of) Zebrasil not Xilted, as he moves out of W (lower) and X (upper) back to Y (lower) and Z (upper). That’s his hope.

In other locations, Mr. Z has dropped his backpack and its many masks collected over both real and virtual continents in the second floor of Crooked, determined to make it a home too, as well as a space to further the TILE study group he wishes to jump start here in town. The standing yellow ickle just below is sure to follow; another Lamb — and a needed 4th color to balance the other 3, red green blue. We’ll soon see.

But Mr. Z has a journey to make first. He additionally senses he must unite public north and private south into one to make Constantynople and Constance Island as a whole truly fulfilled; be made a *constant*. Myrtle Beech must be visited. And he needs to get the lowdown on the whereabouts of his own cousin Zimmy.

But I forget. Mary, the third member of Lamb to add to Peter (different from Peter Ladd) and Paul, is already here! And so is hubby Pitch Darkly. They’re established at Darkly Manor, their old home from Collagesity back in the days, back when it was set up right next door to the sacred Rubi Woods. Through a transparent upstairs wall they could stare directly into the many linden trees, the cypress 1’s and 2’s, the eucalyptuses, and, most mysterious of course but only occasionally, perhaps only that one time, Unch himself, the fabled 200th tree of the forest, the one that has the ability to uproot itself and go walking about the place. Being a Linden creation and thus supposedly permanent, the forest is still there. Just not Collagesity. The also sacred 97/97/97 spot that once united Collagesity directly with VHC City on the same continent of Heterocera is protected from alteration, i.e., terraforming from the outside, the thing which ruined the parallel 97/97/97 in VHC City, psychically uncoupling the 2 burgs.

And what of Shelley? *She* is from that same diagonal line crossing the continent, its very tip top in fact in Hooktip, a suburb of VHC City — 135/135/135. Another perfection, it seems. Mr. Babyface is huffing and puffing on his recently purchased Blue Pennant tobacco by way of Hana Lei which replaced inferior Red Dragon, still staring, still preparing in his mind. Won’t be long now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0206, Constantynople, Heterocera, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Nautilus, Rank & File, Rubi^, Temple of TILE, VHC City^, Xilted

00390203

In a cage underneath the bed he waits his turn as reality shifts back into fantasy, virtual playstuff and all. It was always going to be this way. Once they returned to the top. “How’s your novel going?” he said over, blue rose decorated suit back on. “I’m really sinking into this one,” she admitted to her hubby who was still gone a lot of the time, acting in Europe, Asia and Africa currently, Shakespeare being a world-wide phenomenon. “Sinking as… how?” “You know, really getting into character,” she replied. He rolled over, stared upward. If he’d kept rolling he would be looking right at the answer. “So you’re Jennifer Lane, the writer who *writes* Shelley. But to me you’re still Shelley, since I’m not in your books.” “Oh, you’re in them alright,” she said, which was truth. Just not the whole. 2-4 percent, like incomplete milk for a half baked, choco chip cookie. And so, on the 5th day… “Explain,” he ventured, pressing further tonight, kind of hearing the muffled cries of help from beneath him but still kind of not. He could sense an actor in peril.

So she gave him permission to come back into her life, to live in this place with them as well. Her lovely Edward, fresh from a dog park over in Pickle 02. Someone else was under the bed now. He stared at the answer. “Jem, is that you Jem?” He rolled over, all the way. “Oh it’s *you*.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0203, Constantynople, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Middleton^, Nautilus, Rank & File, Xilted

00390202

Mr. Babyface is now downstairs in Kidd, having yielded the top 2 floors representing his old penthouse apt. to the new couple in town, the *owners* as it were (Arthur and Shelley). He’s also agreed to share the dining table of his upper floor with them, since their own upper floor is basically taken up with a bed. That’s fair, that’s fair, he ponders, puffing on Red Dragon this morning. Out of Blue Pennant, his favorite. Have to run up to West Virginie for a restock soon. But how to get there? Last time he had to go through Hana Lei, holding his nose all the time. Fairy poop, yeck! The worst kind, and they leave it all over the place, not believing in civilization and modern conveniences such as flush toilets and pressure showers. Thus the body odor added in to the rest of the smells, the poop, the pee. He *hates* going there. And yet… I suppose the band Lamb is still in all that mess somewhere. High as the sky; not figuring a way out yet. They have likely been totally assimilated, he reckons. Poor Paul, poor Peter and Mary. He may never see them again. His poor poor nephew (*sigh*). *Anyway*…

He continues to puff as he stares at the Big E on the now shared table, a ritual of sorts. He doesn’t know quite what to make of it still except that it’s perfect in its own way, and a worthy additional the TILE family of absolute glyphs. He stares at the green green sim of Xilted, thinking back to his own experiences there, 0202 as well and exactly 3 novels back. More perfection.

He met a soldier specifically named Chet, a veteran of the Trojan-Durexian War. He can’t recall the names of the other soldiers that were there at the outpost with him and then lover Greg (or Gregg) but he remembers Chet. “Grass, the usual,” Chet always use to say to him whenever he asks the ever pointing, gun toting soldier what he’s aiming at today from his lookout post. And Mr. Babyface would always pause in his activities of the day and stare out with him a bit here — into the green green hills of Xilted (now with grass!). Maybe they could be considered even… friends? What else did they talk about? The cow loving, fellow Trojan warrior now living in the Northern Hills of the original Bellissaria continent? Certainly a possibility, I’m guessing, although they could have become chums after this assignment was over given the whole perpetual war thing, but certainly before his own untimely, well, death. Chet died at the hands of a machete wielding enemy with more blood lust in his spirit. Kill or be killed, he learned too late. But perhaps he was right in doing so; rewards in heaven and so on. Mr. Babyface didn’t know about Chet’s death, I’m supposing. He’d only learn that later in this here photo-novel, 39 in a series of a lot. Maybe from Groover.

And how appropriate his table is now 3 floors down from the top of Kidd and thus displaying the Xilted sim on its side wall as well. At the top — his former upper floor again — Shelley has (XY*Z*) Zebrasil, very close to a volcano that had just gone off. Can he recover enough to go at it again the next day? You betcha! Yet another perfection and directly related. Little e to Big E, you see. TILE talk.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0202, Constantynople, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Middleton^, Nautilus, Rank & File, West Virginia, Xilted

reaching out

Arthur and Edward had an eyefull. “Constantyne, huh?” Arthur, the hubby, finally managed about the creator of the thing. “Queen of the cows, eh?”

“*I’m* queen of the cows,” crowed Jennifer to this, author of 37 romance novels, almost 38. “Or will be. Once my infiltration is complete. This is just step 01 of a 03 or 04 step process.”

“No need to bring zeroes into this.”

“No,” said Shelley, thinking Arthur’s sentence was more compliment than criticism. He was reading into what she said, seeing between the lines. However thin they may be. He looks again, then looks over at Edward doing the same. Might as well be a much thicker line drawn down the center of the room between them, real on his side, irreal or fantasy on the other. Romance novels, pheh. 2 boats in one, hmph. Both 6’5″, both the same size and shape. She *manufactured* him. But then he had a rethink. Both of them? She claimed she was now Jennifer after all. Not Shelley. He questioned further, not persuaded despite all the evidence.

“Will you still work for Al during all this? You said Thomas Boyy — whatever he’s called –.”

“She,” said Jennifer to this. “He’s also a she.”

“Whatever (again). Anyway, you were assigned to Al by him… or her.”

“TOM calls the shots, the male-female synergy at the top of the pyramid that is also the pyramid itself. He/she said to stay in FILE, in the column that is centered upon Constantynople, upon the Temple of TILE there to be specific. Upon the *front door* of the place to be even more specific. Right on the equator. Kenosha is at the top, Tomasina is one down, then Tigger after that.”

Tigger, she thought. Zero Hero! Arthur’s sentence back there was more criticism than complement, she realized. She must return…

She stopped her stands and indicated the filing cabinets in the corner of the 1 room building, a tiny house the owner calls it, neighbor to the Land of the Cows in Tigger as it turns out. The obvious “secret” agent who also owns the body swapping machine Arthur and Edward stumble upon to find out they were one and the same deep down. Thus the logical progression to *here*. “See what you can find in (those cabinets) — probably another clue. I’ll check back, say, tomorrow. Stay *put* until then. Maybe play cards with each other to pass the time, get to *know* each other better. Understand differences as well as sameness. You have your assignment. *Subordinates*.” She took her leave with that.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0704, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File, Temple of TILE