In my dreams, I went back to our old homestead in the center left right upper lower portion of Nautilus, Lichen. It was in ruins but still standing. The land around it was barren; even fabled Mistletoe-Perch which resisted so much change before had faded and vanished. The homestead stood alone.
I went inside and found that barrel. We had some good times with that wine in that barrel, Lichen. Didn’t we?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0507, Google Street View, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra^
“You are like Jesus in that you can walk across the water to get to your Dry Spot, your place of safety. Go ahead. In your own time.”
Philip goes for it. Yes, he can walk across water. He is a God in this place. He can even control the weather, which will come next. But first the Dry Spot, that Dry Rock in the Dry Spot. Here he can rest, he knows. He decides an hour would be good. Hour Rock becomes a secondary name. Hour Spot.
Fern leaves him alone for a bit in his special place, knowing silence is good. Rest from guidance too.
He’s walked across the water. He’s almost there. Just over there it is.
Ahh. There. He settles in. The rock acts like a natural chair for him. He is comfortable. He is one with this world that mirrors our own in dimension if not quite realism. Not yet. People are coming, he knows. Cars, horses, animals, *windmills* already here. He just has to find the Data Hall in those dreams to learn where all of them went, all his favorite humans. Like Fink, like Susan.
—–
58, 59, *60*. Now for Wet (Rock).
Suddenly he was in the clouds, making it happen.
Poo-wer!
“Susan was a goner, Fink. You essentially killed her with your attack at the beach. But you were only defending Jack, who would have gotten killed himself if you hadn’t intervened. If *Fern* hadn’t intervened. You first saw him — remember? — across Susan’s sprawled out body, his green matching your flesh, his square matching your round.”
“I remember,” said Fink. “I– didn’t mean to kill her.”
“*Told* you to control that freak-ish green arm better,” reprimanded Jack, then felt bad about it. “I mean, I guess you were defending me and all still.”
“I *was*.”
“*Anyway*,” said Princess Pinky Gumm, “I knew her essence could be put to better use than keeping her alive for another day or three at best until she succumbed to those obviously fatal injuries. So I used that energy, that essence to heal myself. Remember? I was possessed by The Lich. *I* wasn’t going to get any better.” Better her than me, Princess Pinky Gumm thought but didn’t say aloud. Was she 100% sure Susan wouldn’t recover? Actually: no. She had been selfish. Susan was a renegade cyborg killer, programming triggered by an electrical shock from a giant Acid River eel. But maybe, just maybe, she would have recovered. But that left the killer part intact still, she tried to rationalize. Yes, better her than me (for death), she reinforced to herself.
“How?” says Fink.
“I’m both a physicist and psychic trained at world esteemed Cal State, Fink. The answer would be too complicated for your meager brain to comprehend. Given you just made an F minus on what I would consider the easiest test on Earth.” Princess… Pink(y)… Gum(m), she reviews the glaringly obvious three-parter, and looks over at his blank, human face. So typical. At least fellow human Susan had killer written all over hers. After the eel. Kill or be killed, she thought once more. Yes, her complicated arrangement of physical-psychical interactions used for the transfer were justified.
(to be continued)
It was an unusual 3n1 that kind of became another 4n1 just later.
“Okay, *why* did you bring me to this table, Jack? Cool location, though,” he said, looking around. “Interesting tunnel over there.”
“Because he needed to show you something,” answered the woman for his cohort Jack Dogg, making him turn back and look at her again. Who was this? She seemed sorta familiar, Fink thought.
She lowered the menu she was holding.
“Nifty,” said Fink. “Appears, let’s see, you’re a princess?” He continued reading the revealed print on the shirt. “And— ‘you’re not’. Which means *I’m* not. And Jack’s not. Are you? Jack?”
“And she’s *pink*,” Jack finally piped up, ignoring Fink’s silly question to him. Because he’d given up that particular gig way back in ’72 after the Bra Wars ended. He leads on in the present: “She’s wearing pink; she’s a princess…”
“Okay, that’s nice I suppose.”
“One last thing,” she said after sighing. “I didn’t want to resort to this because I don’t like the sound it makes. But… here goes.”
*POP*.
“Wow,” says Fink. “That was pretty loud. But pretty awesome. Can I have some?”
“*No*,” answers Jack, growing understandably impatient. “Okay Fink, let’s put all this together. She’s a *princess*.”
“Right right.”
“And she’s *pink*.”
“Okay. Hey that’s kind of like…”
“Yes??” says expectant Jack.
“No, sorry. Lost it.”
“Gum, silly. Gum is the third and last clue. If you don’t—”
“Bubblegum.” His eyes grow even wider. “Princess Pinky Gumm!”
“Finally,” she said, taking the gum out of her mouth and throwing it in the direction of the tunnel. “Now that’s over you can ask questions. You scored an F minus on my little quiz, btw.”
“He he,” said bragging Jack. “I had it in two, hmph. D plus.”
“But… how?” says Fink, still staring at her in disbelief. Take away the pink and this looks nothing like the Candyland ruling Princess Pinky Gumm he knows and worships.
“I’ll tell you how.” It all had to do with Fern.
(to be continued)
“I figured we need to talk.”
“Mmmmm,” says Fern in return. “I know that was you talking since I was drinking my beer (!). So… what up? *Wendy*.”
“I’m still Wendy to you, huh.”
“Ever since Castletown, yeah. And, let’s see, you said you had information about the missing Lichen for me, I’m going to say. Part of our troupe after all.” She takes another swig. Blue Sky; pretty good. Hint of grapefruit, hint of raspberry, lots of hops.
“As you can see, my hair is blue. I’m not really Wendy here,” counters, um, I suppose this is Shelley, then. Shelley Johnston Struthers. Or Johnson.
“I see your hair.” Fern looks over. “I see your outfit. Crazy Blue both.” You’ve been taken over, she thinks. “What are your plans for this continent, this Nautilus, dearest? You’re here at the Scorpion Lake or whatever the locals call it — haven’t asked. Not yet anyway. Depends on if we’re staying. Are we? Staying?”
Shelley envisions walking around this inland sea of Nautilus, so full of arms they had to name it after an insect. Apparently. I knew it was suppose to be the Alamo Sea up in Grand Theft Auto V we were walking around but she became a distraction. Crazy Blue indeed. Will she keep the hair? Just found it by accident on the marketplace.
Fern: “We have to bridge the gap between you (points to Shelley in her yellow chair), and me (points to herself in the green chair). I think ‘Frank’s Moving Mountain’ was invoked. You can manifest that *here*, you know.”
Shelley was pondering what to say next when Fern got up.
Soon she found herself on a different parcel, walking away from the scene at the beach and its 4 chairs in a row. But not before one of those local giant crabs corrected her on the name Scorpion Lake, overhearing their conversation with his inner but still sensitive enough ears. “It’s *Starfish*. Starfish Sea,” he said proudly, having lived on its shores and in its water all his live long life.
“Oh, okay,” said Fern, logging it into her computer of a brain while continuing to head up to green beyond lower yellow.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0403, GTA, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File
The first thing big Susan said in “Adventure Time” was “Sha-dow!!”, and was about to run back inside her darkness when Fink spoke up. “You!” he cried. “*Your* shadow.” Susan, who was called Soosan at the time (or Big Soos), traced the rays back to his flashlight before her, then made the connection with the silhouette on metal wall behind. She stayed in place. “Sha-dow,” she said much more calmly, starting to understand the concept.
And that’s when they met, soon to become good friends, human to human. Fink had finally found someone who was like himself in that respect. Same species.
The last time they saw each other is when Fern emerged from the other side of her defeated body in season 8. Fink recognized his own face in another. Susan — Big Soos, the other human in the known universe — was no longer needed or necessary. He had himself from that point moving forward. Or so he thought.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0304, Oooo, Virginia
Even though it’s primitive in many ways compared to newer games like Cyberpunk 2077, Red Dead Redemption 02, and even the older Grand Theft Auto V from 2013, there’s still great beauty to be found in Our Second Lyfe.
I was not suppose to come here as the other one. I was suppose to come here as someone new, someone they didn’t recognize and perhaps could learn from. I was always positioned between the 2, I felt.
But Lexi kept thinking about Shelley — that’s why she was here. She was sent away to find the One.
She didn’t see the candy sentry until it was too late. “What do you want?” he rather boomed down at her. “We’ve had trouble around here recently. Creature named Lich. I’m lucky to still be standing.” Silence. Lexi was contemplating what to say to this being, obviously a transplant from an entirely different dimension, she sensed. “Had – TROUBLE,” he emphasized, still glowering down. She had to say something, so:
“Shelley Johnston Struthers. Or Johnson,” she cited the variable name for the middle. “Looking for her. Heard she passed through here.”
“*This* is the castle of the High Princess Pinky Gumm I’ll have you know. You will *not* come around here looking for another.”
“Hmm.” This guy was fronting a rather ordinary looking house as far as she could tell and not a castle. He’s mad as in crazy mad too? “Okay okay,” she relented. “I’ll bite. I’m actually here to see the Princess. Princess Gummy Pink.”
“Princess *Pinky Gumm*,” the candy sentry proudly corrected.
“Yeah, that one. She in?”
“Of course she’s in. She’s *ill*. She cannot leave her bed.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” Lexi started worrying about communicable diseases more than finding Shelley, at least for the moment. But is this princess actually Shelley? Shelley’s royalty in her book but that’s just the hormones talking. And she’s kind of pink as well. “Catching?”
“Catching *what*?” he issued from above.
“Is whatever she has catching?” she rephrased, still staring up at his gummy ball machine head and wondering how all that worked for brains and all.
“Of course not. She’s *possessed*. By that Lich I mentioned before. You can’t catch possessed.”
“Soo… there’s something inside her? This Lich?”
“That is correct. Now — go along or I’ll have to alert the banana guards of your presence. They are positioned at the, ahem, basement doors just here… there… there… and there.” While speaking and whirling around in place, he points at what appears to be each side of the house behind him. He’d changed his mind about a visit. This person below him, this *cyberpunk* it appeared from the implants in her head, was simply too snoopy, too suspicious seeming. He decided to reveal that he was not alone in guarding the grounds; strength in numbers.
Lexi sees no signs of guards, knows that regular basements only have one door in and out. At least where she grew up in Horner’s Corners Kansas like the Mary Anne she is. Before it was flooded by the lake. That hellish, damned lake. More fantasy from this toy dude, she judged. Maybe the princess is made up too. She decides to question further.
“So the princess is actually not seeing people right now?”
“Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe yesterday but that is too late for you. Check back in a month. No: make it 5. 5 years, 10 years to be totally safe.” He knew that, in all likelihood, Our Second Lyfe would not even be around after 10. Safe indeed.
“Couple more things and then I’ll go on my way. I’m sorry: the person I’m actually looking for must not be here,” she admitted. She wasn’t dead sure of this but she decided to say it anyway.
“She is *not*,” the candy sentry emphasized. “Only the High Princess Pinky Gumm from Candyland. We’re all from Candyland here. *You’re* not. You don’t belong here. *One* more question and be gone.”
“Alright.” Lexi knew this had to be a winner. “This Lich. Anything to do with Fern?”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0303, Nautilus, Oooo, Perch-Mistletoe
Trading her jumping jacks in for jack squats, Fern sensed (and felt and heard) a great disturbance in the force.
“Lichen!” she screamed, intuitively knowing what had caused the castle to suddenly shake as in a quake, her exercising over but her exorcising just begun.
But first there was a problem of revealing herself in a proper way to Fink, who was now grieving over the resulting possession of his beloved Princess Pinky Gumm after the attack, the invading spirit having found the correct body to inhabit. Right now, Fern was just a figment of his imagination stuck in the basement or dungeon, guarded by banana soldiers to the front back side and side. Princess hadn’t said anything; she wasn’t sure it was real herself yet; didn’t want to alarm others until she knew for sure. This story must remain PG’s and not reveal any unrestricted, naked truths. And now she’s paid the price. Lichen needed to contact Fern from the Great Beyond and she’s doing anything in her powers to make this so! Even if it means displacing the soul of another. With Fink (and Jack) in the middle.
“Princess,” calls Fink at the bedside. “Come back to us, PG.” He looked down again at her blue-not-pink face, those slime green pupils set in pitch black corneas, the clammy skin. And she didn’t smell the same either. Not all candy-like but — dare he even think it? — sort of like death. Or at least rotted trees.
“Must talk — to — *Ferrrrnn,*” the spirit hissed within the body.
“Fern?” says puzzled Fink, figuratively if not literally scratching his head at the princess’ utterance, a recurring gesture. “Who’s Fern?”
“Well… I’m guessing it may be you or an alternate version of you since Fink is close to Fern,” Jack chips in from the other side of the bed. “That’s what my dog instincts tell me. I don’t know, hmph. Prob’ly should just stick to licking my butt and other more regular dog stuff. Call it a wild hunch, then.” And he proceeds to get on the floor and lick his behind while he’s thinking about it.
“*Jack*,” reprimanded Fink at the action. “What did we talk about, huh? Not in front of the princess! Especially not *now*.” He looked down and got even more depressed and desperate.
No more words in the script for poor, possessed Pinky Gumm. Now was Fern’s chance.
“Fink,” tried Fern again in a vision over the large, sprawled out body of Susan. “It’s me. Your other half. Remember. Re-mem-ber.”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0301, Nautilus, Oooo, Perch-Mistletoe
“This would have probably been Fall 2015, or maybe even back to Spring 2015. But probably Fall 2015. Or even Winter 2015, or at least before the death of Bowie in Jan. 2016. This started several things. It, in a way, started the photo-novels themselves. Bowie *came* to Our Second Life and its Collagesity for a visit on his way to other destinations. This happened right after his death. He flirted with Baker Blinker, even propositioned her to go with him to the stars and leave Collagesity. This would have, of course, null and voided her relationship with Karoz Blogger (occurring just afterwards), so crucial not only to photo-novel 01 but all the photo-novels to come. They may *not* have come, you see.”
“I see.”
“Your double played a part in this. You synchronize further over the death of Bowie and the release of his last album, ‘Black Star’. Playing it right after Bowie’s death, you were amazed at its depth, how good the music was. You’d only known Bowie through his singles before this. Thus the can was opened to explore his oeuvre in a much more thorough way, which you did over the next several years. And your double went right along with you in a way, reliving his own appreciation of the Thin White Duke. After ‘Black Star’, you then moved to ‘The Next Day’, his previous album. As you told your double, there’s not a weak song on the album, which he agreed with. You also gave him a copy of ‘Black Star’ which he didn’t have. More synchronization. You were kind of moving as one. Or at least so you thought.”
“I thought?”
“Even at the start, you were not as synchronized as you thought at the time. You were a damaged soul by then. Your double represented a light in relative darkness, someone you connected to. You, in a way, in a strong way maybe, needed him more than he needed you. He had enough friends. Maybe he had *too* many friends, too many connections. You didn’t have enough, he had too many. And he had ambitions in the library, desired to be a major player there, which finally worked out for him by the time of your retirement in 3/1/22. The date is significant. It represents a place you separate from the double, are born *away* from him and back into your own sphere. You are on your own after that, just in terms of male friends. You thought you could continue that friendship beyond the library. But a wall was built at 3/1. (Photo-novel) 31 — remember that.”
“I will.”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0216, Nautilus, Upper Austra^
“So let’s start with the doppelganger, the green one.”
“Fern.”
“Welll.”
—–
“We first have to get to rhythm and pitch. Opposites. Remove pitch and you still have rhythm. Remove rhythm and you still have pitch. Keyboards (which I play) are pitch. Drums (which he plays) are rhythm.”
“Okay. Good start.”
“These are the musical differences, stark right up front. But then dig just a little deeper and you have similarities within these differences. The Kinks represented the first bonding point, before Bowie.”
“Right.”
“And we liked the same albums by The Kinks. Unlike the guy who worked for Norwegian.”
“Yes, he liked ‘Arthur’ and ‘Muswell Hillbillies.’ You liked ‘Village Green Preservation Society’ and ‘Lola Vs. Powerman’. These albums all line up 4 in a row from ’68 to ’71 (their ‘golden years’, along with ‘Face to Face’ from ’67), subtract the ’70 soundtrack ‘Percy,’ which was considered a more minor work.”
“Right. And my doppelganger also liked ‘Village’ and ‘Lola’. And he expressed difficulty getting into ‘Arthur’ without my prompting. *I* had difficulty getting into ‘Arthur.’ And as I recall we both really dug ‘Village.’ Hard to say they made a better album, although I perhaps like some of the individual songs more on ‘Lola’ than any on ‘Village.’ ‘Village’ is, in a way, a perfect rock album. Better than ‘Sgt. Pepper’s’ I would venture.”
“Yes, so that was kind of an original link. Now you must ask: why? Why the mutual attraction to The Kinks and even the same albums, unlike that dude who worked for Norwegian?”
“The guy who worked for Norwegian represented a contrast. To instead show the similarities between my doppelganger and myself, and how it could be different. We *speak* very easily.”
“Yes, so we have a foothold. Now move to Bowie (and others).”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0215, Nautilus, Upper Austra^
Sunklands 