“Can’t you pull one of your Tungaske type miracles to save my village?”
“I’m afraid not. Too small.”
She shed a tear, perhaps with more to come. Probably so. These were scientist tears, the tough ones. “Hard to believe it’s gone.”
“No one under 18. Really nothing we can do [Eyela]. (pause) I’m sorry.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0314, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, Iowa, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Squared Root City-
“No. You go first,” she requested, not being as prepared as I wished.
“I was just going to say,” he started, probably improvising, “that you look lovely tonight.”
“Thank you (!).” Cute tittering, cute covering of mouth. “Oh, I was going to check out *Whitson* tonight,” she realized. “*Sorry*.”
“Kind of your double, I’m assuming.”
“Kind of,” she agreed. “Um… uh…”
“Well,” he decided to insert in the awkward pause. “Baker Bloch still has ties to Lower Austra, *roots*, even.”
“In Squared Root City here, yes,” she said, remembering some of her lines now thanks to the prompt. Not all, but perhaps enough to get by if she can fill in the rest with filler.
“Zero Club.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sign; another prompt. “Just like Baker was looking for. A place Baker, the male one, could Zero Out and reset everything.”
“Good to know.” She was struggling. The Whitson gaffe threw her off her game. She decides to end the scene and do some research.
—–
“I’m going into space again,” she said after learning she was. Thanks once again wikipedia! You’re a life line. “It’s a joint venture between Axiom and SpaceX.”
“So… Axis,” he responded. “Like me.”
“Wellll.”
—–
“My name is not Axis any longer. My name is Newt.”
“I know that.”
“I don’t like to be reminded of my Axis past.”
“I… won’t say anything more about it, won’t bring it up.” She cleared her throat. The research got her into hot water (!). She said his new name to reinforce her conviction. “Newt, yes I like it.” She recalled a tree growing out of his head instead of the other place. She realized she had to part with Whitson on this, Mars or no Mars. She had to choose… well pump over spaceship.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0313, Iowa, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Squared Root City-
“It’s a beautiful land, this Dairocha. But ultimately it does us no good if the library still isn’t there. Central! Right Wheeler?”
Wheeler, having determined this some hours back, had already left the scene. She was ready to complete this here photo-novel section about the Nautilus North elsewhere. She was Alysha now, aka Helen aka a lot of other names. But especially Helen, she felt. The antique village of Lips or One Pink called.
Under the big cross at the top of it all, he too changed. Sheriff R.V. Trailer it is to end. Wait!…
Just below. Sweeping. Lots of it; multiple brooms obviously involved. It reminded him of another place he needed to go first.
Multiple sweepers don’t remain any longer at this southeast corner bar of Odie just off Route 12, to his disappointment. Then he met grown-up Tessa and things changed even once again. He was immediately attracted to her waist high tattoo of 2 six shooters. How clever, he thought. Pointer. She leaned over and said her new name in a low voice, obscuring the ink.
He automatically leaned in too (*kiss*), One Pink or Lips transformed.
Some say he looked like Jimmy Stewart, sitting behind his desk with the guns in back as they entered. But they were just for show: R.V. never toted a pistol himself. He believed in the basic decency of man, and that issues, however dire on the surface, can be reasoned through and ended without mayhem or bloodshed. Perhaps his reward for this positive viewpoint was the finding of Helen, our Mayan Marauder, our Publius Enigma, close to public nudity but not quite there, not quite breaking the law either, then, despite the continuing opinion of deputy Andy. “We agree to disagree about the matter,” he settled with his sidekick, his buffoonish underling who *always* carried a gun albeit one without bullets. Sheriff R.V. saw to that.
Skeleton outside and perched vulture — just another show, mainly for the tourists to this here retro town of One Pink, also known as Lips, or that’s what the post office wants to retain as the official name. But the dispute, some say, is just part of the antique feel of the village, as things often happened like that in the Wild West of olden days, often settled — again — with mayhem and bloodshed before a single name could be selected. If a settlement wanted to call itself Bradshaw and others disputed it, just kill off all the ones who want Bradshaw. Sheriff R.V. is versed in the olden ways; he’s a student of law enforcement in the past. He studies to *escape* it, though, unlike some who want a return to the wildness, the wilderness.
Aunt Beatrice is about to get out of church, and R.V. needs to pick her up since she doesn’t like walking home in the sun. Ruins her complexion, she says about our nearest star; a flaming ball of poop, she sometimes calls it, especially when a new wrinkle develops on her 60-ish skin. No one really knows her age, and all that use to are dead, some say: killed — by Beatrice herself in her extreme vanity. Sheriff R.V., an actual nephew and not just a namesake one, knows differently. “That’s just her rough exterior,” he defends to others. “She fights the elements all around her, people, place, things. *Circumstances.* But inside, deep inside — somewhere — there’s a decent, wholesome person that loves the world, that loves her relatives — the few that remain — and, above all — and I think this is very important even though we don’t share the same faith — loves God.”
The police department’s steam carriage stalls out on the railroad tracks. Looks like R.V. is in a heap of trouble again, especially since Beatrice will have to walk about 100 feet from the front door of the church in the scorching sun to get here. R.V. figures he might actually need a loaded gun this afternoon to fend her off.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0205, ENIGMA, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File, Wild West
“So close to public nudity, this Publius Enigma she called herself,” explained deputy Andy Trailer to sheriff R.V. Fife about the lock-up. “Couldn’t take any chances on her accidentally or purposely removing the rest, see.”
Just arrived R.V. looked over at the cell containing the new prisoner, wondering how he could untangle himself and the department from this latest arrest by his oft bungling and misguided sidekick. “I see,” he spoke as neutrally as possible, checking her out. “Looks like some kind of Indian costume,” he bemusedly said of the rest.
“Mayan, she said. The Mayan Marauder, she also called herself. Said she was on the way to Helicon to perform at a private pool party. Sounds like a convenient cover-up, aherm, to me (sniff).”
“Dancer?” R.V. envisioned the rest coming off, like Andy before him, like Opie the town drunk, happily sharing a cell with the costumed woman and giving her the up and down from his bunk at every opportunity.
“Wrestler, actually.”
R.V. looked again. “The pipe came with the, uhem, costume? I’m mean, you surely didn’t let her into my private stash without asking?”
Andy turned a bit red here. “Sorry — it’s just that she said she needed a smoke to calm her nerves, especially before your arrival. We, aherm, didn’t have any cigarettes.” His voice trailed off. He realized he probably did a bad thing in bringing her here. Should have just let her go with a warning. But the name Publius — so close. No, he had to do what he had to do, he justified again in his head.
“And the Red Dragon?” R.V. further interrogated his deputy and not the prisoner. He’d smelled it at the door before he opened it. He figured a new prisoner was awaiting him inside and most likely a woman. Andy only gives favors to the fairer sex.
“Out of Blue Pennant, sorry (again).”
“This is a *mistake*,” R.V. had to say here, but couldn’t help smiling underneath it all. “A *cardinal* mistake — one for the books, my my (shakes head; looks over again). Can you at least put her in the other cell so that Opie can calm down?”
Andy dare not admit he’d given the second jail mattress to his cousin Goofy to sleep on while he’s staying for the weekend from Fort Braggard. “Um, sure R.V.”
“Opie!” Andy barked, walking over. “Give me the mattress. Give it to me now. And stop bobbing your head up and down like that! Leave the woman in peace.”
“Oh *Andy*,” the drunk said, but got up and helped the deputy tote it to the only other cell in the building. Both R.V. and M.M. smiled at the scene, and then caught each other smiling. R.V. rambled over in his unassuming fashion after the cell had been cleared of the others.
“Listen, Miss.”
“Helen, actually,” she said, eyes twinkling as if she knew what would happen, could see into the future.
“Helen, yes. Now I’m sorry about this. If I let you go, uhem, then you have to promise either to put some more clothes on or get out of town as soon as possible. Now you’re not breaking the law as far as I can tell,” and he gave her the up and down again, but without lust in his case — not much, or he tried to put a damper on his beastly side. “But you’re close. Andy was bad to bring you in. He should have let you off with a warning.”
“I see.” The twinkle again. She knew he was caught in her lasso.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0204, ENIGMA, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File, Wild West
“I remember seeing you from above, just before Jeffrie’s untimely…”
“… death,” she finished for him. Wendy had gotten over it better than even Axis-Windmill. And she was the bride(!).
Axis-Windmill continued. “You called me Newt back there — when you were still Eyela.”
“That’s your name isn’t it?”
Axis-Windmill thought back again. Beyond the vision of Jeffrie Phillips and Wendy Wheeler on Corton, the Queen and King of Our Second Lyfe truly. Controller of those creatures she was after that. They had a whole encyclopedia on them now, the ones in the right. Wendy Wheeler: in the wrong by then.
“Welll?” she prompted, seeing the space in his steely grey eyes. Time for a reality check.
“Newt,” he tested. The word sounded right: why not. Zero Club, Vim and Vigor, *Energy*… Newt. Short for Newton, as in Helmet.
We have reached the point of no return. Oily way.
“GERONIMOOOOOO!” he thought he recalled. *SPLAT* he definitely remembered.
Who leaped off the cliffs at Corton to their untimely death on the rocks below? Is it still Jeffrie Phillips? Yet he is back thanks to renewing the vows with Wendy Wheeler. How did that work?
And where is he now if not dead (again)?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0604, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Rim Isles, Squared Root City-
“I recall the first time I saw you, your (one good) eye. Staring out between Moon and Saturn standing on a piano with Sun while a man with a moth on his back climbed a blood red picture behind you, using your huge ponytail to get a boost.”
“It’s not *that* huge,” she retorted.
He continued. “They said she would never be invited again to one of these get-togethers since she brought so many friends and acquaintances with her. But 3-d Venus is alive and well, still with her many fans following her around like packs of wild dogs and cats.”
“In the flesh (!).” She indicated herself, her body. What else was different about her, he wondered.
He went on. “You lived in a house much like our user, front covered in wisteria as if in a protecting fence or wall. You designed the moat to surround a castle but then had second thoughts of leaving bucolic life; castle too large to properly fit on (your) island. Stymie, husband at the time — stymied still how he could have ever goofed up on a looker like you! –”
Cute tittering; cute covering of mouth.
“…was most often away exploring Viterbo, finding relics in the ruins. Then one particular relic ruined it for you; he had to move on, *you* had to move. And so on to another Rim Island, taking the house with you and adding another husband to replace the subtracted first: Jacob, 1/2 man 1/2 alien in this case, with 2 normal eyes below a united third. You?”
“Me,” she decided to say. “Pure bred. One single eye and no normal eyes atall, they said. But that was wrong. I just covered one up, the bad one. Clockwork now.” She indicated the spinning, geared wheel on her face, very fashionable, very retro future. She pointed to both eyes at once now. “Two, you see, just like you.”
“What’s under that tuft of hair?” he said, still doubting her and tempted to reach over and lift it to see for himself. Maybe then he would know if she was happier with Stymie or Jacob.
She changed as she revealed the truth.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0603, Bogota, collages 2d, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Rim Isles, Silverton, Squared Root City-
He waits between hot and cold, choosing hot himself and currently enjoying a mustard and ketchup laden dog of such temperature before customers show up for the midday “rush” — not much of a rush actually but he’s not much of a worker these days, being technically retired and a bona fide Whitehead in Da Woods.
The Mustard Ketchup Kid plays soccer in a nearby field with his sister Ventura, who hails from California. She channels her energy in order to attempt to get the ball past Bert (actual name), but all this is just more code.
Squared Root City is expanding across Highway 13-14 into the sim to the north. Still exciting times for the burg. We hold out hope that it can replace Collagesity-Fordham as proper capital of Lower Austra. Because the latter is probably going away and is, anyway, too small for the role, being only a little over 1/8th of a sim in size. Squared Root Cy is, in contrast, about a sim and a 1/2 in area now.
That’s why the Axis-Windmill character is back. He waits in the Zero Club at the beginning of it all — just before the beginning, some say — for another important character that has chosen to resurface in these here blog-novels to match the new energy. Vim, some call her; others: Vigor (that’s actually her sister, maybe a twin). She counts her Mississippi’s in anticipation of the manifestation. One Mississippi, Two… wait, she forgot something. Newt! At the Zero!
“Hi baby doll.”
He turns. “Eyela?? Wasn’t expecting *you*.”
“No one is,” she speaks truthfully and, after adjusting the strap of her new clockwork eyepatch to better match her face, takes a seat beside him at the bar. Both now turn away from the camera and speak privately. We try to listen in but only catch a couple of words like Geronimo, Slick, Olive, and Oklahoma. We gather an oil spill in Indian territory of the panhandle state may be involved but could be mistaken. Let’s back up and move in closer. We’re the bartender. Let’s call him Jim. Tom, actually, only 3 feet away. Close enough to properly record. We ask if they need a drink to be more legitimate seeming. They refuse. We move away but not too much — should be OK. And… PRESS.
“I’m glad we could mustard enough energy to catch up,” she began, which was code for “very important information to follow.”
“Spill,” he requested, and she did. We were right. Kind of.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0602, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Mississippi, Nautilus, Squared Root City-
On a windy day in Windy Wendy, before the castle library, wedding gown bedecked and alpha constricted Wendy jumps into the Gap, unable to decide between Axis and Tropp.
“GERONIMOOOOOO!” *SPLAT*
“Don’t look at her head, don’t look at her *head*!” the first to arrive at the cliff and peer down commands to the other. Taking the brunt of the fall, it was a plain and simple checkerboard catastrophe.
“BLEH!”
Down below: Axis first now to take turns and give still unwell Tropp a break. They couldn’t get to the body. The gap was too narrow. Reinforcements would have to be called in.
Axis’ turn now, “BLEH!”
Wheeler wakes up.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0301, Wendy-Ontario-
Sunklands 