I’d like to think this is my family. Father mother son.
And over there where the mother is staring? Baederwood. I have that much.
Now to find Dr. Tom who has information about the 2 Hills. Maybe a gardener too?
Let’s start here.
Tag Archives: Eight^^++%
00480106 (pets pet)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0106, Arkansas, Dokken Hollow, Jeogeot, Twin Peaks
00470417
“Dimmy, I am the mama you answer to from now on. Understand?”
Dimmy nods, suddenly not remembering how his mother actually looks. Maybe this *is* his mother. Yes, only several seconds later, he’s convinced. “I *will* find your toys, Mama!” he exclaims aloud.
“Good, good,” Rag Doll says to this. “At least you got the string. And *you* Newt,” she turns her attention to the other male sitting in the front row. “Newt of Newtown. What are you doing flirting with a woman 5 years older than you looking 15 years older? Does *Wheeler* know about this?”
“Well…” Newt glances over at second row Wheeler, who doesn’t glare back as might be expected but seems kind of indifferent to the situation. She’s seen worse. She *is* worse.
“Never mind. You met her in the mall today by the way. Do you think he was really there?”
“I–”
“Moving on,” Rag Doll quickly said. “To Osborne. Osborne, look up from your book and pay attention.”
Daughter Lou beside him nudges his ribs with her elbow. “Da-ddy. She’s talking to *you* now.”
“Oh, ahem. Um. What?”
“The town owner,” Lou tries to whisper but everyone in the room hears anyway. “Up there… on the stage. The dancers are gone. The main show is on.”
“Oh, erm, yes. Yes!” he speaks up, a little too loud he realizes. “I’m here, town ruler,” he softens a bit.
“And you’ve found MOA?” this ruler asks.
“Why yes, I believe I have. It’s in the basement…” Osborne looks around as if seeing the sewer room for the first time. Suddenly he doesn’t know where the library is, its basement, anything. He recalls… walking through a soda machine.
“Good enough,” says Rag Doll. “We’ll talk more soon in private about that. Let’s see, that leaves Eight and Eighty and then Pietmond and Norris. Let’s start with the girls. Eight, we’ve talk a lot down at the ratskeller together while Eighty was away, shared a lot of town gossip and rumors in our giggly, girlish ways. I wonder if you’ve thought about the note.”
“Eighty looks at Eight as if also betrayed, more than Wheeler perhaps surprisingly. Eight seeing Rag Doll behind Eighty’s back? When did her position in town change?
“I took the note from you 2 years ago and yet you didn’t protest. I called it worthless and you didn’t question my questionable assessment. Of course it’s not worthless. I’ve manifested it in your pocket — just look! EINSTEIN; ‘To; Tu/E.”
Pulling the note out and unfolding it, Eight saw, Eighty next to her too. More to talk about later.
“And then the boys, Norris and Pietmond. Clearly Nazis are bad and deserved to be mowed down, ancient headgear or not. So by, let’s say, moral default you have won the contest. Now think carefully: What do you wish your dream island to be?”
After high-fiving each other about the victory, the boys talked amongst themselves and then spoke up. They jointly described a post-Nazi (is)land full of decent Germans in a more modern setting, adding central yellow to an already present red and black in the national flag for increased light and illumination. Given enough time if not space, these people may even be able to make light/find levity in a dark dark past, they theorized. “Our ancestors, PHEH,” said one or the other. “What *were* they thinking about, and so on.” This would obviously take a while, though, the boys furthered. In the meantime, they could go about their daily business in the light of God-day without accumulated sin from their country’s history weighing them down. They’d be free. “This is what we wish,” they finished.
And so it came to be. The burg of Newtown with the sim of Newt at its core was born retroactively from that moment, hurrah! END OF SECTION.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0417, Jeogeot, Newtown
00470416
Newtown policepeople Michelle Roundup and Bill Mustardgas also formed a legitimate and formidable team but they were currently investigating the Blue Moon static murders over on the old continent of Our Second Lyfe and thus unavailable.
Nor were Ted and Cruise of the potential When Push Comes to Shovel team, still on the clock down at the motor shop and unable to get off.
Which left the following, assembled in the sewer room underneath the entrance to also absent Alfred’s grocer store (sick with pill), the heart of the matter. Starting back row to the right, we have Norris and Pietmond, 2 gypsies (don’t call them hippies!) who rammed and bammed into town from the South Gate in a most dramatic fashion back at the beginning of this here section, killing a number of Germans but defending their actions by saying they were zombies and not real people. Were they right? Let’s move on down the row and we might see.
Next are Eight and Eighty last seen in the ratskeller beneath town hall, waiting for Alessandra who is the same as a white-clad Wheeler. Wheeler mistakened one of them for town *owner* Rag Doll, but she got her position wrong in town. The owner herself will be arriving shortly to correct all that.
Moving on to the second row from the back — and also the front — we have Osborne Well and, next to him, his daughter Lou, taking the place of Ruby and Bookie who also couldn’t make it for various reasons. Next is Wheeler likewise subbing for Alessandra, but, unlike the others, not directly sitting with her partner, who would be next up in our review front row right: Newt. Then to finish our teams off we have Dimmy and Marilyn M. from the cloth shop scene a couple of posts ago.
Time for dancing around the main subject matter is over. Red clad Shelley and now black clad mate Eddy unclasp themselves from each other and leave the stage. Rag Doll takes control….
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0416, Jeogeot, Newtown
00470408
She turns away from it and looks down into the Ratskeller. One of the Eighty-eights and town manager Rag Doll, also known as Evelyn Hart, are waiting. Dare she go sit with them? She could still run away. They seem to have not spotted her yet at the top of the stairs. But she’d been studying that painting with cashmere robed Shelley for a while. They could have looked up here when she didn’t notice. Can’t take a chance, she realized. That’s how town rumors and gossip get started. And she’d had enough of that already in this place full of time and space.
But it wasn’t just one of the Eighty-eights down there. It was 2 of them, Eight and Eighty together. She’d imagined seeing Rag Doll aka Evelyn Hart all along, all this time while both glancing down there and simultaneously studying De Boy’s painting up here with Shelley. What gives?
—–
“I’m here to see the manager,” he said to Sue Anne the counter attendant of the moment. She waves her arm in the direction of the only other person in the diner while saying, “How about the owner?”
Promotion, ahh. Rag Doll aka Evelyn Hart was not in the same position Alessandra (= white-clad Wheeler) assumed she would be in this town of New.
She dug right into him. “You were suppose to turn right at the can. What *happened*?”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0408, Blue Mountain, County Park, Haze County, Jeogeot, Newtown
00470403 (benchmurk)
Rules freak Alfred Hitcher looked over at Fisherman Jim with fire in his eyes and boiling blood in his body. *No* fishing, he seethed, and was about to move toward him and tell him so in person, right up in front of his face, maybe yanking the rod right out of his hands and throwing it in the pond, then dumping whatever fish he’s already caught into the water right behind it.
Prompted by on again off again hubby Newt already at the scene, she landed right between the two, noted the similar color. Both murky now, she said to herself. Murk Lake, she quickly decided on a new joined name for the former two. Not Clear to the left, Black to the right any more. One lake, one pond. Different (!). She looked around for Newt. There you are!
Noticing her on the bridge now, Alfred’s attention suddenly shifted from Jim to Wheeler. Where’d *she* come from? He tried to think of a rule she was breaking by just manifesting out of thin air on a walking board between the 2 once differently hued bodies of water but couldn’t come up with one, despite sensing that at least one indeed was being violated here somehow. The rules he loved to separate black and clear had also turned murky in this particular case. Hmm again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0403, Jeogeot, Newtown
cyan dress, black hair: seems oh so familiar
“I’m afraid this is still 1961 guys. The little lady is going to have to sit elsewhere, hmm?”
“There. That’s better. What can I do you for today? Burgers?”
“No, nothing right now. We’ll order later when you have vegetables in salads,” commanded Wendy, appearing as if behind a shadow of a person instead of a real one.
“Suit yourself. My shift is over,” spoke Sarah. “Wanda will be over shortly to check on you. But I wouldn’t hold my breath on the vegetables. Have a nice day.” As she left with her tray of little burgers still untouched, Sarah glanced over at the space that would be a salad bar, currently occupied by a soda fountain and an ice cream counter. Sugar and especially meat would rule the day for a while, she knew. She’d worked in this here city long enough to understand that.
An Everly Brothers hit blared from the jukebox on the far side of the diner, perhaps “Cathy’s Clown”, their latest, as Wendy got down to business. “Soo… you said you know the whereabouts of the black man called Francis. Last seen here in Meat City.”
“The *negro* known as Francis,” rudely corrects Mathew, of a different color skin himself from the “norm”; obviously should have been more understanding of the situation. And why was he here with Susan in the first place?
Susan. Yes, that was her name.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0212, Jeogeot, Meat City, NWES Island^, Virginia
00410609
“Excuse me, sir. If I could interrupt you for a moment.”
—–
“And so as you can see, basically when we cross the Dewberry stream we’re already upon New Site and Chapter 03.” Baker Bloch looked around at the assembled members of The Table, a larger number than usual just because this was such an important new development: the potential end of Our Second Lyfe. “Questions so far?”
“Are we still in Randolph County?” queries Wheeler directly across the table from Baker, still dressed as Atlantis High Priestess and fresh from another shooting scene.
“Tallapoosa, actually,” replied Baker. “Same with The Barroom, same with Mary, Camp Hill, Slaughters.” I through the brain of Baker Bloch make a note to look up all US Slaughters after all this is done.
“Hmm,” said Wheeler. A pause here.
“Grassy?” Baker spoke to the green Mmmmmm being sitting to Wheeler’s left. “Any thoughts?”
But Grassy was biding his time until spring and the return of outdoor plants, ready to make a move in the Mystery Spot of nearby Boulder highlighted in a section 02 post of this here photo-novel (41). “Not at this point,” he said, knowing he represented all Toy Avatars, all of his kind, in this opinion.
“Very well.” He turned to *his* left. “Newt: any comments or opinions or whatever?”
Newt, with old Axis-style pitch black German coat worn over modern agogo red-yellow-black German t-shirt, was also biding his time. Until Baker Bloch handed over the reigns of Aisle of Palms to him; make him mayor or whatever the title turned out to be. Maybe even King? With Wheeler his Queen, if so. After all, Baker Bloch is just kind of a Prime Minister figure in all this, having most of the power to create, etc., but not being the legal ruler of the land. That remained in Wheeler’s hands. So far.
Baker looked 2 seats down. “Hucka?”
“I wish to come back into the story,” she spoke plainly, directly, looking at him then looking at everyone else at The Table, wanting them to understand she was dead serious about this.
Another pause. “Well, okay. We can make that happen. Right gang?”
Murmurs of agreement all around, even the usually silent 88’s sitting to Wheeler’s right. Everyone knew the spiritual importance of Hucka to the blog, a type of Holy Ghost to the thing.
—–
Afterwards, Baker thought back to meeting the Bishop in an unexpected place off Old Wagon Road in central Maebaleia (continent), Our Second Lyfe must remain relevant being the overarching message he relayed. And then he took him diagonally to Redlands for a demonstration.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0609, Alabama, Big Woods, Boulder, Haze County, Jeogeot
queen mayor
She refused to give up her 88s when she took the role. She refused to wear proper women’s clothing when she came into the meeting room. She refused to not smoke, not drink. She’ll be like any other man here. And more. She’ll join the circle of the general council if she wishes: doesn’t want to bother with it today. Look at them, she thinks while peered over the top of her newspaper, giving all the latest in fabled Storybrook, still a thing despite being destroyed almost 3 1/2 years back in this here blog’s timeline. She can get more information from this instead of listening to those asses heeing and hawing over there about the same. Remove the apple and you reveal the key. Storybrook continues (!).
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0214, Omega^^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^
00390507
Pitch woke up on the other side of the Heart of the Island forest in a mess. His head hurt. He didn’t remember what happened. Wheeler, he then recalled. She ate the wrong kind. She won’t be getting out as easily as me. He raises up a bit and looks around at the big pink doughnut he sits in, he *escaped* in. He dares to look over at the police box through the trees, envisions the girl entering it and encountering whiteness inside. *That* was his salvation. Little Shelley Struthers from Hooktip just up or down the lane. Uncorrupted. Able to resist chocolate and other sweets, no chewy gum for example. Just as pure as golden ticket Charlie before her. But what now? He can’t leave without Wheeler, he understands. She is still a part of him, despite the, erm, evil. No: misjudgment. He’ll have to go back inside. To the beginning!
“Let’s actually switch, Wheeler,” he says over when getting there just before the first bite, thanks to Shelley’s help once more. “I think I can handle chocolate a little better than you.”
“Heartburn, yeah,” Wheeler said, remembering her once in a while condition and withdrawing the object from her salivating mouth — just a bit.
“Here,” Pitch said, extending the pink one in her direction and ready to grasp the brown with the other. Can she?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0507, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File
heart of the island trail
They left their familiars behind at the campfire, Mary and the 88s. We may catch up with them later. But first…
“Okay, all together with the magic donuts,” Wheeler commanded with the chocolate, Baker the strawberry. “One… two…”
Didn’t take long before she was somewhere else, being someone else. “Baker, w-where’d you go? Baker!? Suddenly she had to go, she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t shut the door for privacy. A little girl passed by.
“A little privacy?” she asked, making her stop and stare. Uncomfortably. “A little help?” She wanted the girl to shut the door and go away, because going away then shutting the door was impossible. “Little girl… your name please, little girl.” But then she recognized her. Shelley Struthers. From Hooktip. Just down the lane from her. Or up.
Shelley wasn’t suppose to talk to strangers, especially ones with long green noses and who smelled bad in the moment. Through the hat — different than the one Wheeler wore upon entering the woods in the heart of the island — she gathered she was confronting a witch. And it was strangely satisfying to see her obviously doing the thing that outhouses were made for. Gratifying indeed. She took in all the various, accompanying facial expressions. Why was this so fascinating?; like getting a mustard and ketchup laden hot dog with relish ta boot, she thought. So odd. The situation lasted a very long time indeed, probably much longer than possible actually. The witch had been saving it up for just this special moment, it seemed.
“*Thanks* little girl, er, *Shelley*. Thanks a *lot*,” she managed after it was finally over, door still open all this time. Then she realized she could have just “touched” it and shut it all along. In the heat of the moment, she forgot how Our Second Lyfe worked. “I’m *not* real here,” she muttered as a reinforcement. “I *didn’t* have to go to the bathroom — especially like that. I *could* have shut the door all the time. Heck, I didn’t even have to get seated. How’d *that* happen?” She looked up; Shelley was still there. “Well, move along… or speak or something. Don’t just keep standing there staring. Show’s over anyway.” She stands and finds she is clean down there, despite the lack of paper. Things were kind of getting back to “normal” in a virtual sense. And then her new hat was gone, replaced by the old. The girl extended her hand.
“You haven’t been here before, have you?” Wheeler shook her head and then grasped.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0501, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File
Sunklands 