“Could be that the next photo-novel will be all about (the) Nautilus (continent), Hucka Doobie.”
“Good. That is fine.” She pauses. “Speaking of which, we need to get over to Rooster’s Peninsula and wake up Jacob I. He’s due for a return as well.”
So they traveled about as far across the continent as you can get until they reached the Progressive Rock Museum at the neck of Rooster’s Peninsula, so named because a dude named Rooster once lived there in a giant castle called Rust Never Sleeps, enigmatically enough. Rumor has it he was part of the Lemon Conspiracy against the Blimey Linden overlords. Nautilus was riddled with ’em. But much of their work and their ways has already gone the path of the dodo. The Prog Rock Museum keeps on progging, thankfully. It’s the way we can bring Jacob I. back and get more of his story — why he came to Collagesity in the first place.
“Wake up Mr. Mower Man,” Hucka Doobie speaks down gently. “Time to come back.”
One day he came here and his beloved giant live oak tree had simply vanished in thin air. “I’ve had enough of this place,” Jer Left Horn muttered to himself. “Fran is too young and Cloe is too unavailable. Time for me to report back to mother. The caves got my brother plain and simple. He will never be found the right way in.”
Time to look the wrong way; the only one left. Somewhere else than End of Time.”
“He’s given up on End of Time, Hucka Doobie. I’m not so sure.”
She stares over at the white rabbit merrily munching on a carrot. “Me neither.”
But something still doesn’t add up. Or multiply. We have another on the rooftops quite near the Bird — staring at it even — leaf umbrella in hand shielding his *head*, if not necessarily the rest of his body, from the localized rain surrounding the whale directly above him.
He has a different tattoo on it than Fish Head, but, otherwise, the same body it seems. A bird instead? Dry instead of wet?
And, to be specific, the rotating Bird he’s peering toward only has the head of such. The (white) body is instead that of a female human, outstretched arms sort of giving the appearance of wings.
If only I could translate the native languages better inworld, Chinese and Japanese. Because both are used here.
Maybe a trick to understanding all this is start seeing through walls. For example, we find a mysterious *hole* using this method directly below Fish Head’s bar on the ground level.
Where does this lead us?
Underwater, it turns out. A more realistic abode for, let’s say, a fish.
“You’re not going to be able to figure it out.”
The Fish goes its separate way from the Head. Like seeks like.
Although the rain still pelts down, he is above the fray now.
Unlike the Bird perched down below, the Fish doesn’t revolve. Take that as you will. Just an fyi.
The bar directly below the Bird seems vacated. Is this a dying city?
It’s a rival bar to (grounded) Fish Head’s just down the alley. Did Fish Head cause the closure? Is his known confidant, the Heart Queen, also responsible?
One way to find out.
“Did you cause the closure of the Bird’s bar?”
I mean maybe.”
“I’m going to make you partially transparent so don’t panic.”
“Okay, here’s the problem. Or deal. *I* sit on the black stool that represents the 8 ball. 88 01 (let’s say), you are on the orange “2” stool and 88 02 (we’ll say), you’re perched on the yellow “3”. Wheeler then considered something else. “Stool, huh.” She then took a remote picture before returning to the 87 Room.
“Alright, so between you is an XVideos labelled laptop that, to me, obviously is suppose to represent “x” as in *times* something. But 3 *times* 2 (she points to the 3 associated objects in turn) equals 6. Added to my 8 (stool) you get 86. But this is (Room) 87.
If you consider the X might be a cross (+) it goes even one further from the truth, since 80 (points to herself) plus 3 (points to 88 01) plus 2 (points to 88 02) equals 85. Now the XVideos laptop sits on a stool representing the 1 ball in pool, the blue one. To me, this *must* represent Blue Eye, the missing one in either Arkansas or Missouri. So here’s the solution, people. I’m 80, you guys are 3 *times* 2 or 6, and then the stool, the one, when added in at last — *not* multiplied — brings us to the needed 87. You have to count the missing one hidden by the X to make sense of it all.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked just beyond the wall.
Grandpa (Herbert) Gold was introduced to the ringleader but didn’t know quite what to make of it (!).
“Other Other?” he ventured.
There was some kind of acknowledgement from the contraption, so Herbert went further.
“What is Cat pole star?”
There was a mysterious exchange. Then Herbert asked, “Do you know who I am?”
The avatar who seems to be Other Other didn’t know who I was.
More exchanges. He (or she) indicated that he (she) wanted to improve the sim by depicting reality more accurately.
I went for broke and gave him/her the link to my Sunklands site. Herbert Gold looked over while chatting, and couldn’t help but think he’s staring into the face of God.
There was a couple of exchanges about the 100 story building. I enthusiastically commended him/her on the project. He/she expressed hope that a planned, second 100 story building would be as successful.
I was translating both Japanese and Chinese at once. The contraption pulsed behind me but not in a menacing way. Herbert Gold’s head bounced with its.
Although wishing further contact, I had to excuse myself by saying my translator was out of date. Will we meet again? Could be.
Baker Bloch Guy Benjamin woke up with the fuse. He looked around… groggily. End of Time, hmph. Where’s, er, Hucka D.? “Hucka Doobie,” he said aloud. “What the heck did we drin–“. But he stopped himself mid-sentence because no one was with him. He groaned, holding his head. He felt like a Sledgehammer hit it. Big Time. “Peter,” he spoke aloud again. “Something abou–” He scanned the room more closely. He clearly remembers a bell. Bell sound, yeah. It woke him up. The fuse…
(to be continued)