Tag Archives: Donald Farr^*

move up


Late Friday evening reports of The Mists rolling through the Realm trickled in, and in the morning of Saturday, the explorers of Rosehaven confirmed that the region known as Rosehaven Serenity had up and moved to where Rosehaven Anodyne was. The whereabouts of Rosehaven Anodyne is anyone’s guess, perhaps it needed a holiday and set off to waters unknown. Please update your personal charts and maps to reflect this change. An officially updated map is being drawn up as we speak.

Donald was disappointed that his whisky drink he so enjoyed last winter had, in the meantime, disappeared from the extensive list of alcohols offered here at The Cup and Harp.

“I”ll have a, er, bourbon,” he said. “Some kind of bourbon; any kind.” He couldn’t quite mask his disappointment to the bar maid, one Felicia McApplebaum from Rosehaven Serenity. They’re still getting over the mysterious disappearance of a whole sim called Rosehaven Anodyne over there, she relayed to the still sober Donald Farr when he returned for a second. The alcoholic content of the Kentucky bourbon seemed to not be matching that of the Pennsylvania whiskey he loved. “Make it a double this time,” he requested, determined to get some kind of decent buzz off the stuff. And it was here that Donald learned the first name of the bar maid and learned where her home was in the kingdom/queendom and the queer story of the disappearance of a whole, neighboring sim back in May as he downed the drink in two long draws. Rosehaven Anodyne was, then, present when Donald visited last year for his annual winter vacation. “The mist, eh?” he spoke about the claimed culprit, deciding to stay at the bar a while instead of returning to his lonely booth. He began wondering if Felicia had a husband or boyfriend or significant other. Maybe *he* could fill this role if not. It was also then he realized the alcohol was sneaking up on him from behind, a surprise rush to the head. Kentucky is not Pennsylvania. Alcoholic drinks affect one in different ways. Much like flowers of the world, some bloom later than others. Such is the case with Bee McCabe’s Special Stock distilled in 1919, a good year for such, and coming just before Prohibition in the Blue Grass State, a year earlier than the country’s Prohibition, explained Felicia McApplebaum to the swimmy eyed Donald only a minute later, his pupils now big as a 1920 Kentucky Anti-Prohibition Alcohol Token. “Marry me, Felicia,” he blurted out before losing his balance against the counter and collapsing onto the Irish Green floor.

McCabe’s Kentucky bourbon would be his drink of choice from now on. But never a double again and always sipping slooooly.

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Donald Farr so looked forward to visiting Rosehaven again come winter.

The King was dead but the castle remained. Ingo ruled all now. The Prince who was also King. King-Prince. He liked it that way. He didn’t want to identify with the father too much.

The dryad’s pond on the way to the castle.

It could be that he’s never going back this time.

What’s this? Donald Farr doesn’t remember the object, although he explored extensively in the area last winter.

A wee person’s home(!). Wee people in Rosehaven. “Well I never,” Donald Farr had to utter at the door he couldn’t enter. He’d have to be at most two feet tall, he estimated.

Later, in the gazebo across from the ruined village below the castle, he ponders what he saw there. He’s got two cold feet but he isn’t scared.

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Well. If she’s going to be stuck out here on this peninsula isolated from the rest of NWES — turning her back on the yellow green blue red puzzle pieces that are sims, in essence — then’s she’s going to try to stay as jolly as possible. Celebrating Xmas to the hilt seemed to be the ticket. Axis help out. A lot. Most of the objects were his.

Then he added the final touch in the bedroom, the coup de grâce.  They both looked down.

Alice Frame’s skin changed over. She remembered who she was, deep down.

She turns toward her partner, her lover. “Thank you, Axis. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Wife.” It was time to show her the yarn pictures.

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Queer, thought Baker Bloch, back to exploring Blue Junkyards. I recognize this butterfly ship from Rosehaven. And (as he’s checking): owned by an actual Rosehavener (again: !). Well, in that nice Designing Worlds video on the region fleet commander Wildstar Beaumont did say his ships were deployed throughout Our Second Lyfe. I guess this is proof! Far far away from Rosehaven I would assume we are.

So another synchromystic link between Rosehaven and The Waste, since Blue Junkyards’ name is very similar to The Junkyard sim of latter.

And this just after I moved my Rosehaven Yarn Shop over right smack next to the *Yarn*a sim on Corsica last night (thanks Green Squirrel and Huma!).

Queerer and queerer. Maybe we’re not done with Rosehaven in the *present* yarn.

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At the Jaeger’s Hat, Rosehaven tourist Donald Farr gets a big laugh out of a jukebox style gramophone that comes to life and sprouts arms when touched. The castle scene behind the sentient record player is actually a false window, which becomes important a little later on. Reminds Donald that he’s made friends with a Rosehaven castle owner recently, and wonders if it is the same structure he presently calls home. King Tull (or King Tully). We’ll get to him soon as well.

In looking behind him now, I realize that the false window of 10×6 panes, if extended into a square, would represent 100 panes that have become one through the castle.


Donald enjoying his second house whiskey at the Avalon Estate irish pub and dance hall, the first being so refreshing. Good thing he’s not driving, walking and teleporting being his only means of transport while on vacation. When did he have to be back to work? he ruminates through the inebriated haze. Perhaps never, hehe.


Hmm. Donald remembers a building that could be rented on this parcel before, which now is vacant. He had his eyes on it, but the rent is a little steep for his traveling budget. He just wants a place to rest his head between exploring jaunts. Perhaps one of the nearby cottages is available now. He’ll go check there next. He can only impose on King Tull (or Tully) for so long. Plus it’s pretty much a fur piece from anything out where he lives on that mountain. He’d like to be closer to the center of all things Rosehaven, and the cottages fit that bill.



Darnit! The edge cottage that had been available for several days was now rented. He missed his chance! Music is heard within — a ragtime tune being played on an out-of-tune piano. It draws him in; there’s a welcome sign as well. Plus he’s still a little drunk and uninhibited. Is this a private parcel? He didn’t care. He felt it should be his.

He opens the door and walks inside…

…. to find himself staring at himself.

“The missing building!” he cries while twirling about.

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Photos from Rosehaven

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ex TWA pilot

In the middle of the night, Donald Farr sometimes visits neighbor Chuck Close and talks about how he wrecked that plane and killed all those people 5 years ago.

But he always ends with something to the effect that it all might have been worth it just to get here.

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