https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Y3hUMuaTvk&t=22s
The Martians weren’t these ugly monster people. They were human beings and very advanced. We became so negative at the time that it was us attacking them. We warred on other planets.
“We met on a beach, remember? Green waters not blue. Blue was not allowed here. Not after Zambolis.”
“I’m glad you said the Mythos equivalent of [delete name] and not [delete name] itself.”
“You’re welcome! We still work as a team.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0106, MARS, New Island, Omega
It was a question that was inevitable. Did the castle have *consciousness*? Behind those eyes, that mouth with its sticky outy tongue: only vacancy, nobody home? Or was there something actually there? It’s a line of inquiry Frank and Daisy started to explore after a heated night of make-up passion, just looking around what Daisy considered to be a pretty makeshift bedroom but what Frank thought of as a pretty permanent version of the same. She didn’t know what she wanted in terms of a master bedroom. Frank *wasn’t* her master, she had that much at least. AI wasn’t her master either. “Besides, it’s going to crash,” she opined to him maybe that same night. “Crash and burn. And the government will step in as they always do and save their stupid worthless asses.” He kept his mouth shut. Unlike for his castle now down on the ground and not up in the skies like before, he’d learn to control the tongue waggling. Best to keep it inside and even bite down hard at times. On this particular subject anyway. And more would develop as the days turned into years turned into centuries.
“Don’t you think it’s creepy,” she said another time as they lay on the bed fully clothed, unable to get inspired this particular night perhaps, “that he’s always looking in on us? When we’re *here*?” How do you know he’s a he? is the first thing that sprung to his mind, though. Not any thoughts about the castle actually being an AI. He remained blinded in that direction. He didn’t even know the castle did the same out of a strong sense of privacy itself. Himself? Her? Maybe it didn’t even matter. Anyway, they had nothing to worry about in this direction. TBD TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0102, Frank's Moving Castle, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0101, Google Street View, Ohio
“There! There’s where we have to head next, me and the boys.”
“OK, Dr., I’m going to have to stop you there, draw a line. That’s a private residence. Nothing to do with the Missouri Mystery Motel or any other anomaly tied to that Show-Me state.”
“You are denying the power of the CENTER?”
“In this case, yeah.”
“So you’re admitting it *is* a case.”
“Um, no. Not what I meant.”
“You already said it. Can’t take back.”
“Just… leave those poor people alone. They’ve had enough trouble with the rabid fans of ADC never mind your small band of kookies. Who’s left among them? The Ogle brothers?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. But they’re loyal. And they’re cheap. Work for free, actually. I can’t do *everything*.”
“You pay them with snapshots.”
“Like I said: free.” TBC?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0307, ADC, Frank's Moving Castle, Google Street View, Jeogeot, Missouri, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0505, Bright Moon Cottage, Happy Town, LSD, Violence District
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-OYPicGH_E
Happy Town train flying over LOVE again and outta there.
Half of the Tower Bridge (*not* London Bridge (!)), which was the same percentage I encountered next door on my neighbor’s plot when setting up Aisle of Palms back in the first of January.
Googly eyes on the Our Second Lyfe version…
… which is the same effect most LSD characters have when viewed in a certain set of textures (one of 4 in the game) called Distortion or Downer.
Interestingly these type of googly eyes will not appear on Tower Bridge — which also happens to be found in the LSD game — because it doesn’t have a face. Here we almost seem to have a crossover effect of sorts between LSD and Our Second Lyfe going on.
LSD’s Tower Bridge with normal (Static) textures
Btw, even though the bridge next door was deleted in full soon after I arrived in the area…
… the dead parrot statue still remains underneath the Parrots for Pirates Pet Shop in my town, a lasting aftereffect.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0411, Big Woods, Jeogeot, Kyoto, LSD, Monument Park
Happy New Years everyone! Hope yours will be starting off fantastically.
Tomorrow I plan to begin renting 10,725 square meters of land on the continent of Jeogeot, Gods willing. I think my earmarked parcel is safe until then because of this…
… an “intrusive” aisle of palms on an elongated 512 parcel in the middle of the thing. In fact, that’s a tentative name for the town I want to construct here, a rehash of Constantynople which is a rehash of Fordham’s Collagesity and so on and so on down the line.
Just like 8 years ago, the wife and I have returned from a vacation in Charleston SC and also nearby Folly Beach, the latter becoming more and more the center of focus during our almost yearly sojourns to the world famous metropolis around Christmastime.
It all seems to fit together seamlessly *because of* and not despite the invasive palms.
And then there’s also the London Tower Bridge nearby, which, in this virtual version, just lost 1/2 of itself. Wonder why? Maybe I’ll be able to find out from my new neighbors.
I must keep my eyes peeled for more synchronicities, ha.
And I plan to recreate the dead parrot statue as well in some fashion. Blackbeard’s? (Bluebeard’s?) To be seen.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blackbeard#Blockade_of_Charles_Town
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0410, Big Woods, Jeogeot, Michigan, South Carolina
“There. That was me, Alice. A wolf caught in the bright headlights.” CHANGE
Lazy girl Marsha “Pink” Krakow had seen and heard and felt and tasted and touched enough in Paper-Soap. Back to Cass City to wrap this section up, she said in her mind. Just after she finishes nomming down this delicious sewer popcorn.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0215, Paper Soap+, Soap
“Why didn’t you tell me about the chest, father?” she imagined asking him later at the same motel, mother with a new client by now. Father Pritchard, a different kind of father, one with a holy vest chained to a cross he never asked for; was just in the family business, his father a father, *his* father a father, so on. This is a way to exact his flesh, pound-for-pound.
He made googly eyes with this, which gave her the answer. He was thinking about the past even now.
“Ahh, so… mmm…”
“Boyys,” he issued. “I worshiped the boyys. They just made me… blow up (!).”
“Combustible. Like oxygen.”
“I suppose.” He was clear for one minute, now muddied again. The whites of his eyes had narrowed into slits like snakes.
“So you *couldn’t* be my father.”
“No,” he admitted. “No, I couldn’t be.”
Must have been *Robert*, she realized. She said this to her father who was now not her father, at least biologically. Psychically perhaps “yes” still. She hadn’t given up on him just because of the Big Reveal — opening up the chest. He was with her mother just not in a strict biblical sense. Not like Father Pritchard now. More on-the-spot irony.
“Swamp Fox, right.” We better end there.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0213, Paper Soap+, Soap
Sunklands 