And Ringo. And John. Especially John, though. Can’t be dug out. Will always remain in the Cavern where I first learned of them. SODA.
Tag Archives: Axis/Tropp-Opp/Campbell O’Pine^*++++@
going round the bend
Under a spell, a parade of words began to flow from their now unblocked mouths. Newt first. How he got his name. “Right *here*,” he said. Wheeler’s turn. She was Queen to Baker’s Prime Minister but this was not Baker; Baker was not the father of Shelley. “Unacceptable!!!” shrilled the fruit headed Mike, still at the center of it all, holding the lemon and lime in each hand, ready to stuff them back in if needed. And he did. He could get information through other means. He sent in Pat. They high foured each other while passing. Pat would get to the bottom of this, Mike thought. Female influence. Darker origins. Almost Knight but not quite. Getting there, though. He went out of the Cavern to have a smoke under the starless, moon filled sky. Or was it skies? A skiier pair of skis rider-less bike whizzed by, expertly weaving through the tall flowers and small trees despite no apparent guider. A man walked up as it faded in the distance: glasses, professor looking. “I let it go. I let *everything* go. And yet, as you see, it still knows the way home.”
The bike rode into the rising sun. Mike’s lemon head went away. They were talking man to man, human to human. Knight was over.
(to be continued)
brightening the load (be like Mike)
“What now, boss? End of the road.”
She paused, then said to the foreman with shovel in hand and questions in head: “We go back. We make sure we’ve got everything correct and well rounded up to this point. We refine within.” The non-foreman beside them turned over his blueprint, looking for “within”. No luck.
—–
“Start with mica,” she clarified a bit later as they all walked back inside together. “Mike.”
Helpful! foreman and non-foreman alike thought. They both knew the guy. From a kid’s television show of all places.
—–
Fruit headed Mike at the center of it all stood up, removed the lemon and lime respectively from the mother’s and father’s mouths. “Speak,” he commanded. “Speaaaaakkkkk!!!”
Duke
“No ma’am, we don’t have that in stock. We *can’t* have that in stock. Laws of the land.”
“Okay, but what if I do… *this*?”
“No ma’am. However many *seductive* poses you try it won’t get you that drug.”
“Okay, but how about *this*?” She remained undaunted. She had to have that soda!
—–
Mike (and, later, Pat) met with Newt and Wheeler on this very issue just across the road in a cavern. *The* Cavern, in fact; sitting around telltale mica. America was slowly but surely being poisoned. Mike had an idea for a new campaign.
“Just *shut* up and *listen*, Moms and Pops.”
00370612
A rare Wheeler free zone, thinks Newt, still in Ghergie. Her and her Omega continent influence can’t reach me here. But who to talk to? I suppose there’s always Edward. Mustn’t have been with them in this scene, this act. Edward, yes.
He came like Adam but he left a decent man. “Have we met before?” Newt started after the makeover.
“Dunno. Let me check,” and he began to look through the blog again.
“No no, don’t do that. Let’s just talk. No history, we’ll assume.” Newt had a subject at hand. “Found a nine over there, a number. Then it was gone. Then there was a forest spirit hiding inside the ruins of the temple it was formerly just outside of, leaning against almost. Or maybe the ground, the terrain, was just tilted a bit.”
“Um hmm.” Edward Daigle nodded. He’d heard about missing numbers before. Like 4, the only way to reach The Moon. Missing and you’re stuck with terrestrial. But he didn’t say this aloud. He was thinking of his history if he couldn’t politely browse it by jumping outside. I come from a spaceship, he ponders. No: that was Jem. Where’s Jem? It was as if he were waking up from a dream.
“I think the woods are playing tricks on us again. I’ve spent a good amount of time in them lately. Having so much fun!”
Edward figured this was Real Life talk once more from the white headed man. He wanted to stick with virtual. He suddenly wanted to move out of this parcel, contact Wheeler again. Wilson. But the green tower beside the ruined temple prevented it, the same object that probably manifested the 9, he later understood. “Glory be,” he decided to finally say. “Glory be,” he repeated.
And suddenly he was back.
—–
Now friendless-in-the-moment Newt got a name for the spirit: Colon.
“*I’m* your friend,” it seemed to beckon with his mysterious glowing green crystals and knowing smile.
Wheeler Wilson had been able to reach Barry X. Vampire in another part of the sim but couldn’t here. Thanks to the blocking tower of purest green. More symbols fell from it as Newt began to chat with his newest chum, the one who knew him so well if not visa versa. They had time now. Reprieve.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0612, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West
Ghergie silhouette
After all the bad news lately, Newt is encouraged by finding a purple cube in a residence owned by a Sands, obvious nod to The Void again, an important important concept now in these here photo-novels, numbers growing bi- or tri-monthly. Things (post generation) seem to be slowing down a bit lately as virtual shifts more to physical, Our Second Lyfe into Real Life. He’d just driven a lime green truck, color symbolic of irreality itself, through a wall in a bar and down a dusty road outta here. Found the center again: Fife. But the levee was dry. Barney was off his tits again, trading places with Otis Campbell as town drunk. Just like in, what was it, Lassie? Anyway, it all seemed fruitless, especially since Squared Root City went away sometime in the past several days. Nowhere now to further the plot of Shelley, with help from her keyboard talented mom, rehearsing her Crazy Blue act. She beamed in just yesterday to find abandoned land, the whole sim of Squared Root now vacant. PHEH (add that to the PHEH category, folks!). And also the bigger chunk of Nightsity got deleted about the same time so perhaps no furthering of the story there either, seemingly, although a small part remains in that case. And so tonight finds Newt just roaming around his new-ish neighborhood in what he’s deemed Lemon Free State (independent from both Lower Austra and Wild West of Nautilus’ declared continental states), trying to figure out if it’s all worth it, the monthly rent to the Lindens, etc. Death wish taking over again. Then the cube: encouragement for a change! Perhaps Grant Hill and his Sprite drinking ways is still around after all, lemon combined with lime to make it all taste better, not bitter.
—–
The blue phone rings in the Sands house just as writer Barry X. Vampire is ready to head back to the Omega continent for more excitement and adventure. Whatever happens, we always have that. The End, which also loops back to The Beginning, ouroboros complete. Must be Wheeler, as in Wilson. Better get to it.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0611, Lower Austra, Nautilus, NIGHTSITY, Omega, Wild West
00370608
He is greeted in Heaven by the Man in the Middle, the Man About Time, some say. Just that damn important.
The knowledge and power of the center of it all, Fife to some, was drying up. Time to heal. Time to drive the Chevy to the levee, or at least a Dodge. Man About Time was waiting. On his heels drunk.
June 14, 2012 – the pond at Fife’s Grove Park. It has since been reconstructed.
The fated journey actually started here In Real Life, in the shadow of Pink Peak and exactly on the perimeter of the encompassing 1 square mile pink circle I’ve put around it. Shine is the place of the drinks. Brookshine, let’s say, a portmanteau of sorts, and with the trailhead of perhaps now inaccessible — because of the poison ivy and all — Mystery Gorge just beyond.
https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/19/00320507/
Once she was Alysha. He sighs, thinking of his former girlfriend, like if Thelma Lou left Barney for Sherriff Andy Taylor, attracted to the shine of the bigger badge. Another King over Bishop (or Rook) situation, then. Or a King’s Bishop anyhoot.
note: Throne House on the other side of Blue Mtn. from Pink Peak (place of Turtle Head) on this map may actually be Tyrone. Texas Pete. Gonna play with that.
https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/20/00320509/
“*Miss* Ouri,” Man About Time dutifully wanted to say but held his almost always mild tongue. No need to bring Texas Pete into this, his mama always said about verbal acidities. She trained him well; he absorbed everything he could from her. Poor Mama, he lamented. Hanging with the angels now.
And that’s about the last we see of Man About Time until now, speaking time-wise.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0608, 0609, Blue Mountain, City Park, Country Park, Red Hill
00370606
Boy could he think now (!). He knew to steal the grasshopper green vehicle parked behind the bar; started it up like he was testing the engine or sumtin and just drove it through the wall outta there. Sally gasped at this and then began smiling as she stared at the hole and the litter of bricks and mortar, heard the truck zoom down the dirt road outside toward the beginning of the trail. Barrier, PHEH. He knew better now. 1 million was a small price for what he understood. He could take this lime colored thing and drive it all the way to Heaven or Hell, his choice. Because *nothing* was real here.
He asked the handy bluetooth to play the entirety of the Cardiacs’ double album “Sing to God” as he continued into the great beyond. The greatest album he’d never hear otherwise because of the ears and all. Now it didn’t matter.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0606, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West
Man in
“See you’re back to exploring Nautilus,” said Sally the bartender, part of the group mind.
“I am.”
“See you’re back to red and yellow. Not all black. Stay that way. Reno,” she warned.
“I remember.”
“Don’t bring it back.”
“No.”
“Soo, what you doing in *these* parts (of Nautilus)?”
“Welll.” He scratches one of his ears with this, grateful to have them trimmed again. Cost him Reno but it gained him more, all of Nevada in essence. Middletown, or at least future access to. “I was going to hike the trails of Quirrola Forest but it seems I’m blocked from access.”
“Go down a bit,” suggested Sally. “Toward the coast. Go in from the east. No ban lines from that direction. 1/2 of the sim is banned. Up here; down that road. That where you came from?”
“Yeah. So from the east. I guess this would be from the south. And over 1/2way up, like you said.”
“Yes.”
“Well thanks. I guess I’ll be on my way.”
“Hold on,” and she poured him a drink she already had 1/2 made. Grasshopper, extra kick. Kick-ass kick. “Get this in you before you go. It’ll help you think. You’ll be pondering Middletown thoughts as quick as you can say $499,000.”
Newt wondered if that would be the ultimate cost but he took the drink and starting swigging it anyway. 2 gulps and gone. He’d done a lot of drinking in the Old West, the wild times. Had to chug fast or else someone else would for you. And that someone else usually could make you dead in no time too.
“Another?” spoke Sally, seeing the empty glass. “1 million, then. The population of Las Vegas.”
Dare he?
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0605, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West
Sunklands 