Tag Archives: Bardie^*++

00490610 (killing time)

“Still naked from skinny dipping, we’ll say now, he wakes up in his Silver Lake apartment and stares at the silver band passed to him, now on his arm and acting like a bracelet. He realizes an engraving on it is a knight’s move in chess, H6 to G4.

“Another code on the back side eventually points to a map related to The Legend of Zelda video game from an old Nintendo magazine he happens to possess. The third ingredient for solving this puzzle comes in the form of another map found in a vintage cereal box, of L.A. this time. Also found in his apartment — what are the odds? He superimposes real — L.A. — upon fantastical — LoZ — and marks out a grid of A-P and 1-8…

“‘H6,’ he says, circling the 1st indicated square with a marker. ‘Ahh, Silver Lake! And G4, let’s see. Yes. Mt. Hollywood. Sarah, my vanished dream girl, must be somewhere around the sign!’

“He head up there the next day and uncovers the Forever Cult below a blocked out part of Google Maps. After finding out that Sarah is alive but sealed inside a tomb, he drinks tea and passes out.

“She’s dead, actually,” he starts the kicker. “He killed her. That’s how he got her silver band. There was no second choker. Only the first; close quote.

“Pretty good story, huh John? Thanks Bardie!”

5 second pause. “You’re.” 3 second pause. “Welcome.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0610, California, Heartsdale+, Missouri

00490604

Oh Jesus, he thinks, checking through the 2-way mirror on who opened the creaking door this time. Someone on the list for a change (!). And John on the john, unable to help me right now. Don’t dare yell over at him to hurry things up, he thinks; people next door might hear. Peter Oesso runs up to camera 03, quickly turns it around. BMK wants all angles so she can transform the video from 2-D to 3-D! Can’t screw this up. On cue, important person #5 on the list, back to the mirror, roughly pushes important person #4 onto the bed in front of him. Peter’s already noted she wears a green turtleneck sweater to go along with grey dress pants, indicating who she is. The man in contrast wears a grimy white tank top and faded holey jeans — working man, he’s guessing, perhaps on a break from the nearby factory given the time (noon-1 PM). Poor and rich, he’s determined; contrast of class. But also on the list. Blue Moon called them the turtle and the hare and said that he’d know them by her neck. The man starts berating her about coming too soon the last time and then climbs on the bed on top of her and proceeds to CHOKE her by that very neck. Should Peter intervene? Is this just part of the sex? Choke choke choke… oh god. Dead on the bed. DEAD… ON THE BED. #5 leaves the room, as if his job is done. Doesn’t try to dispose of the body or anything. Just: gone. Creaky door opens then shuts. Oh my gods, thinks Peter. Now *we’ll* have to dispose of the body? Is that… really why we’re here??? He understandably is terrorized, but just then, stirs from the bed. #4 is alive! he thinks. This must have all been part of the act, PHEW. After a minute to recover it seems, she gets up off the bed and approaches the window just as Blue Moon did before. She folds down the green sweater from her neck after removing some kind of pin, and unclasps a silver band from it, a silver choker if you will. Protection from the choking! Peter thinks. Ahh, this *is* an act. She proceeds to pass it to Peter THROUGH THE MIRROR.

At this moment, John finally exits the bathroom but Peter quickly hides the choker just given to him behind his back. Person #4: gone as well now from room #5, as if by magic, no creaky door noises indicating opening and closing. “What was all that commotion out here?” he questioned.

“Oh nothing, just tipped over in my chair.” It was the best Peter could think of. Would it work?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0604, California, Heartsdale+, Missouri

00490513 (Blue Moon Kentucky)

Martin Allen? Where had I heard that name before? Ahh: *here*.

The front door creakily opens in the next room, as they’d set it up to do. “Your turn to film,” he said to likewise au naturale John in the chair next to  him.

“Um, no. Think it’s your turn, Peter.”

“Would you like to see the film?” It was here John realized Peter had turned the nearest recording camera around for better use that it was intended: porn shoots. Selective of course. Because this tended to be an old folks stop along Highway 66, perhaps revisiting a past trip from the 50s, 60s or 70s when the interstate didn’t exist or else wasn’t as overwhelmingly used as it is now. “Geezer sex doesn’t sell,” the boss told them emphatically. “Not really, not that matters for us. We’re in it for the big bucks. Don’t bother wasting film with those. Waste it on the important ones I listed out before.” But none of those had shown up. At least not yet (see section 06).

“Hey!” Raps at the two way mirror. “In there! Turn camera three around! I can *see* in there!” The Big Boss. Not a geezer, not atall. Young and full of passionate energy, probably too much so. But she’d given up on the bare bones of the business to follow a career in music. And what a career she’s having! No one knows she’s here, doing this stuff still. Peter Oesso and John Lockfry the 1st are paid well to hide that fact. Plus she said: “Blabber to the press — *anyone* — and you’re dead.” They knew she meant it. They’d seen the snuff films, one or perhaps several of which involved former employees with loose running mouths. Cheechee and then death. Not a combo you want to be facing.

She stepped all over Benjamin Franklin’s green toned face in leaving the room too. Gig over at the stadium tonight; she had to get prepared. Just reminding the boys here that she could stop by at any time. Anny-time. They had to remain without clothes. They couldn’t take any chances. TBC

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0513, Heartsdale+, Kentucky, Missouri, Pennsylvania

00490404

“Who are you, woman? Really.”

“I told you, Arthur ‘Orient’ Morgan. I’m Wheeler. And this is my place. Wheeler Wilson. Hence: Wilson’s.”

“Convenient, I say,” said Arthur back to her, smelling a rat the size of a town.

“Well… you tell *me* who you think I am?”

Demon, sprung forth in Arthur’s mind automatically, staring at her forehead and the placement of her flip style hair upon it. He said the word aloud.

“True enough,” she admitted. “All women are evil to a certain kind of man.” She let that hang in the air. Arthur stared at her.

“I’m a killer,” he declared about the core of himself. “I kill for hire.” He let *that* linger in the atmosphere. He gazed at her through the haze of untimely death.

“I know,” unfazed Wheeler Wilson said back to him. “But you’re *my* killer.”

Arthur thought about the various ways he could take that. Do I *kill* her? he thought. Or is she saying that I belong to her, as in a beau or something? Before he could ponder further, she said this:

“I’ve known you before, I’ve determined. We were married.”

“*Married*?”

“Yes, after you were buried. I killed *you*. Shot you right clean through the heart.” A smirk appeared on her face. She was way beyond him now, she felt. Try to top *that,* she seemed to exude in her haughtiness. “But then I dug you up, brought you back to life. You presented me with a ring and I accepted the call then I accepted the proposal. Buried *then* married,” she reinforced.

“I gotta get some air,” Arthur said, shaking his head once more, as was customary around this confusing, confounding dame. “Am I, I don’t know, free to go?”

“Go where you wish, Arthur ‘Orient’ Morgan. Just don’t leave town. The boundaries of the town are the sims of Arang — here — then, Baekga the great forest, Kumiho the city center, Mago the beachside, Yongwang, and then Dokkaebi from which the closest Oracle match of Dokken Hollow comes from. You know, the Bang Bang Club, where we first met in this town. I sent you a teleport invite just like you did for me tonight. We watched Julee Cruise and then uncovered the truth of Dr. Tom, Cruise as well. 2n1… so common in this world.” She paused, not knowing how much to reveal right now. She decided to end it like this: “You are as much an actor in this world as you’d want in any world class Shakespearean play.”

“Hmm,” he said, getting up, having enough. “Can I take the drink with me?”

But then he looked down and he had none. Came with the booth, came with the place. Wilson’s drink. And now he was apart from her. TBC

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0404, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot

00490311 (Steve)

I had circled back to the Newbank sim on the Newbrooke continent of the Bellisaria series of continents now dominating the “center” of the Our Second Lyfe worldscape, determined to make more of the experience. Plastic Man — I had that much. Friends Pig, Bully, Father and Son — they’re still around too. But Plastic Man quickly turns (again) into elastic armed Peter Oesso impossibly reaching through a window to an espresso machine 12 feet from him and procuring himself a drink. We’re at the gallery just north of Newbank now, with a corresponding increase in realism. As a newborn starts to recognize the world around him and the difference between father and son and mother and daughter, so we have the appearance of 2 brothers here, one 5 years older than the other but still the same age. And, as we’ve also seen, a third brother who is the same age but even 5 years older is involved, his Penn station being the center of virtual Paperville alternately Pageville where we can get Peter Oesso’s friend Bardie some pens and perhaps pencils to write his words down with. And, queerly, Second Life Freeze Dry is only 2 miles south in the Pennsylvania equivalent. Maybe we’ll visit a variant version of that real life business soon too.

Back to the action…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0049, 0311, Arkansas, Bellisaria, Continent 04, Pennsylvania

00490213 (Show Me, Peach)

He came into the room holding a top secret file and spoke directly into the 2 way mirror connecting our 5 and our 6. “You need to look toward Franklin,” he said after removing his disguise and showing his true face which mirrored the ones on the 100 dollar bills littering the floor. “Franklinn,” he emphasized.

—–

“FrankLYNN!!!”

“Oh god what is it this time?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0213, Frank's Moving Castle, Georgia, Heartsdale+, Jeogeot, Missouri, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS

00490212

“Tell you what, Bardie. I want you to write me something, get me out of this pickle I’m in here in this Missouri motel renamed for the misery it caused. John over there is not my lover, I have that much.”

10 seconds later, Bardie says “much,” which wasn’t much given the gravity of the situation.

“I know someone ordered us to remain here au naturale. Just in case.”

“Case,” he echoed about 5 seconds later, quicker this time because he was on to something. This *was* a case. June’s diary.

And more. UFO?? (TBC)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0212, Heartsdale+, Missouri

00490202

I intended to paint abstract today but this muff fascinated me and I had to return to it. The textures, the color, the lighting. I was starting to get the swing of things. Abstraction tomorrow, then. I promise (to myself).

“Yo, brother of mine,” he called from the window, sneaking up on me as he often does when I’m painting, when I’m absorbed in the creative work. His friend Bardie came along this time. I like Bardie. Good with words, he is; helps me with my artist’s statements and artwork descriptions. Good egg.

“Yes, hello brother of *mine*. Welcome. I see you’ve helped yourself to the espresso machine through the window.” Does this all the time. Sometimes I wonder if he secretly has elastic arms. Queer thought to match a queer brother (but not in that way).

“Right right. Couldn’t wait.”

“How about you, Bardie?” As good as Bardie is with writing words, he’s bad with saying them. Really bad. He kept silent at first, as was his style. “Good,” he finally managed after about 10 seconds.

“You’re good as in you’re okay without coffee, orr, good as in you’d like a cup of coffee? Choose oh wise one.” But he just nodded, keeping the situation ambiguous. I decided to give him one just in case. He can let it sit there if he doesn’t want it.

“Tell you what, Bardie, this one’s on the house.” And I laid the cup I just poured down in front of his expressionless face. Ahh… paper, I think while staring at it. Next time I’ll put a piece of paper in front of him with a pen to derive needed answers. I wonder why I hadn’t thought of that approach before.

This led me to Paperville and dwelling on the old days (TBC).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0202, Bellisaria, Continent 04, Paperville+, Weird-o Islands+