“Investigating a murder, ma’am. Blue Moon Kentucky. Know anything? A-bout it?”
“My Son!” she cried upon seeing him beam in on a ray of light. “Come back to me.”
“No ma’am. Not your Son. Or your Sun for that matter if that’s what you meant. Despite the beam and ray thing going on here beneath me.” But then he thought again. Clue!
Barry De Boy wakes up, immediately googles “Elvis Esley”. Or was it Isley?
(to be continued)
“I’m going to rub than d-mn coffin right out of the painting, that’s what I’m going to do, hmm-mm-mm.”
“Paw?”
Andy twirls away from the flawed painting Uncle Herbert gave him as a wedding gift for his first marriage and toward his son from that marriage, trying to block his vision of what he was doing to it with his body as best as possible.
“Opie, what’re you doing out of bed?” Andy says in a harsher tone than normal, which of course Opie, being the sensitive child he is, picks up on. Something’s wrong, he senses.
“I-I just wanted some milk. And maybe cookies (!)” Should have been a laugh track there, Barry De Boy thinks from the couch, also understanding something’s wrong.
“Milk milk milk, okay okay okay,” Andy says while rushing over to corral his son and herd him toward the kitchen. “And then right straight back to bed. Do you realize what time it is?”
—–
After making sure Opie is good and tucked in again, Andy returns to the painting. But his rubbing has made the child’s coffin even *more* visible to his complete exasperation, uncovering additional layers of paint. “What the–” he says while staring at it, and then instinctively glances over his shoulder to make sure Opie didn’t come back down again. “That’s it that’s it, wedding gift or no, this painting’s got to *go*,” and he grabs it with both hands, intending to take it out to the squad car parked in the driveway and dispose of it in the dumpster behind Floyd’s first thing in the morning, before he even goes into the office. He’s just that determined — suddenly — to be done with the thing. Uncle Herbert hadn’t visited in months after all. But Aunt Bee, he thinks. Herbert was her favorite brother. She’ll notice, she’ll be upset; won’t let off until he puts the painting he gave us back up above the mantelpiece, pheh.
There’s another way, he realizes. Who can change a painting but a *painter*. “Barry De Boy,” he says aloud, probably to the camera.
“Barry De Boy??” Barry utters too. He looks down at the red tie, wakes up.
(to be continued)
“Isn’t this a beautiful view of the harbour, Newt? Just lovely.”
“Well,” opined her opposite eating ice cream partner at the stand. “They could have done a better job with the line there dividing the 2 sides of the texture. Makes it obviously unreal. And the blurring–”
“Blurring only makes it more romantic,” quickly countered Wheeler. “This skyline could be any city in the world you want it to be, any virtual burg for that matter. It could be Sydney to me, Melbourne to you. Our choice. Just pick the most romantic city you know and you’re sitting across from it, eating strawberry or vanilla ice cream, also your choice. You like vanilla, I don’t.”
“We better start talking about Nawt Vaya,” said Newt, tired of meaningless chatter. “Why we came here. To this *rendezvous*,” he couldn’t help tack on again. Next time, he promised himself. Gowns and formal attire.
“Okay.” She finished the last 1 1/2 scoops of strawberry in one huge gulp just to try to speed things up and maybe add a little comedy to the matter, then continued to talk with mouth open and muffled voice. “Ow, fthatt *hurfts*.”
“What do you expect, Wheeler?” he said, watching her now deal with brain freeze. He decides to start while she heals. “Let’s take account of the residents of our fair land there in the center of Nawt Vaya. First off, there’s me and you obviously, then Lexi and Philip over in her house on the south edge of the property, then Fink is around too, then Jack is not far away as well — Jack Dogg, I’m obviously talking about here and not any of the other Jacks we’re attached to now. And then Barry De Boy and Wendy are up in that cottage perched above my own home of Newtonia. Do you like that name, Wheeler? Newtonia? Are you able to properly speak yet?”
“Mmmmm. MmmMMMMMMmm.”
“Obviously not. I’ll continue, then. Then there’s Veyot up on the hill, Pearl just up the coast a bit. Then in Juho we have Greg Ogden who’s also an artist — runs STAB now — and then I believe Nada New Year is there too, and also Carolin. And, let’s see, Peter Melanchton–”
“Gone,” Wheeler managed, ice cream headache finally subsiding.
“Right. And then the girl who’s suppose to take his place as summa cum laude graduate of Nawt Vaya State University and her, er, boyfriend I guess we’ll call him. And then Edward is still around.”
“Backwards positioned waterfall,” Wheeler identified his location. “You’re okay with that? Aren’t you?”
“Ahh, *sure*.” He was 1/2 and 1/2 on the issue but he really didn’t have any choice. Unless he did. He’s trying. Date first, then other things. Has to start with a proper date, which apparently this wasn’t. He tries to focus on the census again and away from the Wheeler+Edward continuing issue. “And then Princess Pinky Gumm.”
“She doesn’t count.”
“Oh…. right.” Newt remembers that Wheeler is playing that role, actually. “And… I can’t think of anyone else. Can you?”
“OH. I saw… I saw *Frank*! I totally forgot to tell you.”
“Frank?”
“Yeah. *Frank*. In Juho. At the barber shop when I was getting my hair cut the other day. I was getting the Butterfly No. 25 while he just sat there getting nothing, no styling no treatment, no anything. *Frank*,” she emphasized.
“Frank *who*?” Newt had to question. There were a couple, including a bunny man who hadn’t figured into the plot of these here photo-novels since the middle of the last. But it turned out to be Frank Lynn of GTAV fame.
“And Sep Felton was there too,” said Wheeler. “You know Sep. Butterflies again. Over on Corsica. She’s a stylist in both places. I didn’t even ask her how that worked, dufus that I am. I was *so* focused on getting it all chopped off, letting my scalp breathe again as Winter turns into Spring. I want the Butterfly, I said excitedly almost when I came in the shop. I didn’t realize the synchronicity.”
“You should always be paying attention to synchronicity. Why we’re here,” summarized Newt.
“I know, I know.”
“So… let’s start exploring and we can talk more.”
“My line!”
Someone in desperate need of a haircut himself, or herself, came walking into the picture. It, we’ll call them to remain gender neutral.
(to be continued)
Later while Wendy went to the SL Marketplace to buy a new dress with unruined stripes, Barry perused various algorithmic offerings on his Youtube premium subscription service. Soon a video about a particular painting shown in the 60s classic sitcom “The Andy Griffith Show” popped up and he couldn’t resist. Turns out… well: Dali again. Let’s listen in. Fake dialog here we’re talking about, but still seems to fit. 🙂
“*Child’s coffin*??” Andy exudes.
“That’s right Andy,” says Barney, standing proud before him after pointing it out. “Read it in a magazine over at Floyd’s. I’ll help you with things like this, Andy, keep you up to date on all the modern trends. Yup (he sniffs in satisfaction about knowing something the seemingly all knowing sheriff of this here small NC town on the far edge of modernity doesn’t). Artist by the name of Da Lee found it hidden under layers of paint. Child’s coffin, Andy,” he repeats. “Turns out that couple wasn’t grieving for lost crops in that field but something *bigger*.”
Barry wonders where the laugh track was on this episode then realizes the obvious. He looks down to see a glowing tie: dream again.
Wendy opens the door to the small cottage, startling him awake from his afternoon nap. “What do you think?” she said, twirling around in place to show the purchased dress off.
“I think… we need a TV.”
“And a bed!” Wendy added. She was feeling frisky again, their checkered, unaligned past be damned. Start anew; forget the old. Rebirth.
What’s going on here? artist Barry De Boy w/ glowing red tie wondered about the meeting in the wee woods. Pirate treasure? he picked up. Islets of Langerhans?
He then notices it moving toward the group from between the legs of the nearby elephant giraffe. Dali Tiger. Was he dreaming? He must be dreaming. But in pinching himself he doesn’t wake up. Finished with the legs, the dream tiger was upon him, AAHHHHH!
With a start, Barry, sans tie now, woke up on the couch in his new Jeolla rental perched atop a scenic cliff. Wendy, still in a pure white dress instead of her usual striped one, was already kind of awake on a nearby chair, having sort of observed him through the night. She’d been summoned but had arrived late. Barry was already asleep by the time she showed up. She didn’t think it wise to rouse him. She wanted to see what would happen. Would he put the tie on again? Would he have one of those Dali dreams?
Turns out it was so.
Bruised and battered, I’m almost there… FREEZE.
… But not quite.
“Old piece of shit!” a punk driver shouted through the window at me as I drive through Little Seoul in the middle of my journey, stating the obvious.
“Hell-looooo!” I shouted back, then wondered why. FREEZE (Dammit!).
I made the rest of my commute quieter, with streets empty now. It seemed to be the safest way to return home. No freeze.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0303, GTA
Drew Grumpy Cleveland now had to wear 3 hats instead of 1. Co-manager of the Yalta Bar still he was, and then fill in for Barry De Boy (other bar co-manager) and Wendy (town gatekeeper), both of whom had skedaddled off to who knows where. So the bar was self service a lot of the time, thus Fern and Lichen having to serve their own beers before that fated walk where they found the big cube blocking their passage forward, dropped down from heaven or such by the Big Bosses and therefore couldn’t be moved or deleted by anyone else. But the same was also cutting down overall business here in Castle Town of Omega’s deep south, and so Drew had time to nap on, actually, all 3 jobs. Just like Petty in Aisle of Palms — at least before he was sacked because of it — managed to keep up with his sleep due to low tourism and attached cash flow in his several jobs there. Grumpy also had time to study the bookcase lists — like now. He had the 2 side by side again, just like he presented to Fern toward the beginning of this here photo-novel.
White to the left, Black to the right. But, somehow someway, Diablo *wasn’t* switched or reversed with the following word Draco in the second (Black) list like before. Going along with this, former porn star and current nudist Drew was president instead of janitor at the Martian Asylum Inc. business, roles reversed there as well, lowest flips with highest. He knows even if he loses all 3 Castle Town jobs his place on a pedestal in heaven is secured. And perhaps that’s the reason for the highest of higher ups to drop the cube on the town in the first place. To change reality so that Drew is king. We’ll see.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0516, Castle Town, Omega^^
“What are we going to *do*, Fern?” They’d run into this huge plywood cube almost immediately after leaving the bar, blocking further progress, blocking what was actually their favorite place in Castle Town, down over the rails there and through the southward tunnel. The garden spot park on its edge where we last saw Barry De Boy. And Wendy.
Fern reaches into her gray capri pants and pulls out a golden gun. No, not that, she thinks, and then puts that in the back one while she reaches deeper into the front. Phone. She’ll just call Lexi, see if she has anything to do with this. Dialing…
“Hi Lexi. Listen, we have a problem here over in Castle Town.”
(reply)
“No, the one where Lichen is at.” My Shelley, she thinks but doesn’t voice, looking over at the blonde hair, the spinning blonde piece of straw in her mouth, more agitated than ever. Lichen didn’t like this, didn’t like change. But Fern knew they had to leave.
(reply)
“That’s right. On what you call the Forbidden continent but what Lichen and I like to call Omega, yes.”
(reply)
“Oasis in a desert of shame — you remember. Flattered. Speaking of flat…”
(reply)
“*15*?” Fern knew that the members of the Firesigntheatregoers group numbered 5 the last time she checked. Shelley, Baker and Wheeler, and then 2 others.
“What’s 15?” Lichen asked over. Fern ignored her for the moment, absorbing the new names. Took a while. Well if you aren’t going to answer me, Lichen thought, I’m just going to go over to the rail and look down at where we *should* be by now. If it weren’t for this blasted *cube*.
Dumpster down there gone as well, Lichen noted. Interesting.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0515, Castle Town, Heterocera, Omega^^, VHC City^
Clarence spied something that really got him excited. Bootleg VHS Tapes, he pondered, looking more in the distance than what one might expect, someone like De Boy for instance. That must mean there’s old time users around. He’d ask the girl. But first, down to the business that brought him here.
“Would you like to be a model, dearest? Aisle of Palms has an opening.”
—–
“Found him,” she said to Clara Bellissaria, a name mispelled on purpose. Because she was a spy too, the first found.
Clarence and Clara, yes. Makes sense now, Fern thought. Father and child. Fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree, and so on.
“Come on, Lichen, let’s go,” Fern said, seeing Clarence move with Redd toward the tapes in the game within a game. “We need to have a word with this *model*.”
—–
From the northeast and one floor up, old time user Martha spies Clarence + Redd + Tape Girl from between 2 bushes to angle a whole ‘nother level into our story.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0115, Big Woods, C2077, Hana Lei^^, Jeogeot, Nightsity
“Where *is* he?” expressed not-so-patient Lichen Roosevelt to her dinner partner Fern Stalin, the brains of the group, the Scarecrow to Lichen’s Lion to Wendy’s Tinman and Dorothy in one, as if the UK and US united into a single country, not quite like that but close. They were, then, a trio and thus had to look out for each other. And Wendy was now nowhere to look out for. Missing. Barry was the logical path forward. Talk to the jilted boyfriend, get Wendy’s last thoughts, and then move on from there. One thing they knew: she was *not* in Kangarootown. Not yet anyway.
“He should be rocking,” blonde Lichen continued to complain to brunette Fern. “Right over there.”
She pointed to the chair with the maple leaf throw pillow seen toward the end of the last photo-novel, still as a quill. No yarn to spin here from De Boy. Lichen sucked nervously at the straw in her mouth, seemingly a perpetual oral fixation these days. Fern was just glad it wasn’t chewing tobacco or something even worse. A straw is a straw — harmless outside the constant twirling and whirling and the occasional slurring of the words emitting from her distorted mouth. But, true, it adds to her overall humor, augments the vibe she’s trying to put out there to the world. She likes to play the role of a dumb blonde, kind of like a Daisy Mae from Dogpatch, Arkansaw. A Capp caricature of a woman, a throwback to more primitive days. Daisy days.
Fern’s brains were spinning per usual. “Not rocking, eh? Maybe classical is the direction we should look toward. I sense — lemme look deeper — I sense… Liszt. Don’t ask me how. Just Liszt.”
“List?” Lichen said back, not understanding the word. But her word turned out to be even better in the moment.
“Yes!” exclaimed Fern to this. They had to find a list. If they had to tear this place apart, like pages from a book. Book! she thought to herself. There are books around back. They knew this from their time before in this place, this Castle Town in the Deep South of the Omega continent, an oasis in a desert of shame.
“Travel!” she said when they arrived at the 3 bookcases we also saw Barry sitting before in the last novel. She was basically straight-channeling the future by this point. Oases have peculiar energy, perhaps because of the condensing of energies within. Lends itself to palm trees and desert life. Lends itself to psychic impressions and deeper. Wellsource.
I suppose that’s what attracted them to Castle Town in the first place, that and all the offered games here at Yalta’s Bar and Grill, backgammon, chess, cards, so forth. And, of course, its name.
It was right in the center of the 3, right before their eyes. When she saw it she couldn’t look away.
And right in the center of the book: a list.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0102, Castle Town, Omega^^
Sunklands 