Tag Archives: Herbert (Mssr.) Gold^*

not core

“I’m not sure if I can get rid of the two of you — this house.”

“Well you must in my opinion,” spoke up Mssr. Gold, feeling himself unnecessary for the new novel if he’s not dreaming of The Waste, Fruity Islands, End of Time, and Rosehaven all in one. “As I understand, this is suppose to be an analysis of what has gone on before. Unless you want us to help with with *that* part.”

“Unsure,” admitted Baker Bloch. He turned to the person on his couch. “What do you think April Mae?”

“I think we *must* return to the Omega continent and I’m glad you have a new foothold there with this Gold Mountain. Full of golden goodness and unlimited possibilities. You build off from there and you’ll be fine.” She looked over at her husband. Herbert Gold after all. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Dear?”

“Oh dear,” both Baker Bloch and April Mae Flowers spoke at once.

Looks like the couple won’t be in the new book after all.

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Filed under *Second Life, Purden/Snowlands

Serenity

If she sits in her compression chair too much longer, she may never get up.

So tightly wound around. Like a Mummy.

Only Monsieur’s visits brings her out of herself. Where *is* he??

—–

“I’ve been waiting and waiting for you, Hebert Gold.”

The full name, he thinks. She *was* upset. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with the king. And then with the doll houses. We found Carrcassonnee inside. The one eyed entity that use to rule Collagesity. HF showed us.”

“But you were both Gold and Platinum inside Murdock’s Castle. Time was all mixed up. *Is* mixed up. You came too close to the truth.”

“Now I know. Fingerprince. I just had to find the second dollhouse to confirm it. And the second HF.”

“Are you going inside? Forever and ever and ever?”

“I’m not sure. What would you advise?”

She paused. “Maybe we should go to the Serenity Church. Perhaps the Reverend can help us.”

—–

“He’s *here*. Zoidboro is here.” Monsieur Gold was incredulous.

“Yes,” spoke Parasol below the tone of Zoidboro’s preaching. “It’s because of the Gold and Platinum mix-up. Zoidboro’s been here for years now. Yet he has just arrived. And then: he isn’t here yet. Some realities he was never born, never had a child by that strange mutant gal-guy Patrick Starr.”

“The drummer?”

“No, that’s Ingor.”

“Ingo?”

“No. *He’s* different.”

“My head hurts. I need to sit down.”

—–

So they sat down opposite Sally Spark O Naut — who had dutifully followed Zoidboro through the eyeball cave portal — and listened to the remainder of a beautiful sermon about the dangers of shark attacks. Afterwards, Herbert Gold’s head hurt considerably more.

In fact, I think he died there. Again.

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Filed under *Second Life, Rosehaven^^

“They can see everything we do in our bedroom!”

It was not an *incredibly* bad looking house from the outside, April Mae Flowers thought while standing in the snow. But the insides were all wonky: crazily placed stairs, doors that won’t shut, and, perhaps most irritating of all, the transparent on transparent wall overlaps, which made parts of the house practically see-through when viewed from certain angles. She had told her newly wedded husband at the time that the Princess (who was in charge of such things then) rejected it after giving the matter serious consideration, citing some of these same issues plus tacking on a couple of her own — lighting; bedrooms that aren’t linked to the interior; plumbing. 300 linden dollars a month was all it was back then for a nice parcel, perhaps a 1024 like this, albeit without the double prims. But Herbert insisted that his “mansion” go along with the deal. It is understandable in that this was the place he helped raise Lisa and Bartholomew with his first two wives, Marg and then Madame Silver. What disastrous marriages! As bad as her own to retro-guy Septimius Felton, now 3 1/2 years dead in his grave. Marg as well — going on 9. Only Madame Silver remains among their exes, and apparently she’s gone bat-ass crazy over on the Omega continent, vowing to destroy Lisa and keeping brother Bart in limbo. She tries to avoid her part of the continent when visiting Septimius’ grave over there. Which reminds her… she needs to ask Mssr. Gold for the narrow boat-plane again tomorrow. She dreads the moment.


transparent on transparent

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Filed under *Second Life, Purden/Snowlands

shape pullers

She’d finished the 3oth and last of Johann Sebastian Bach’s “Goldberg Variations” and waited for accolades that never came. This time was different.

“Your daughter plays superbly, King Tully.”

The king acted surprised, then: “Tull please. The spirits flaunt their wears at 12 midnight. You must stay up for it. Every night it happens without fail. Music as well. The spirits sometimes say it’s for a Benefit, sometimes they’re just Living in the Past, they decree, sometimes for a forgotten War Child, and then, most mysteriously of all, for the Passion Play. The play of life itself. Daughter Merry Gouldbusk is fair. But the spirits play a superb and haunting tale weaving in and out of itself.

“The daughter is good too,” Monsieur Gold reinforces, knowing the difficulty of the pieces just performed. Merry Gouldbusk beams inside — a little ray of sunshine enters her cold, metallic life. I will marry this man, she states inwardly. I will show father what he can do with his Jimmy Fisks of the world.

“Let me show you something, Monsieur Gold,” the king then commands while rising. “The mystery of my name.” He turns to his daughter, who awaits orders. He bows his head toward her. “You can come with us.”

God I hate that man, she thinks for the millionth time.

—–

“Are these the… spirits?”

“No. I’m afraid not.” King Tully’s voice betrayed disdain. In fact, one could tell from only a short time that the king held contempt for everyone and everything around him. Except the “Great Queen”, as he always addressed her. Always the full name Merry Gouldbusk for the daughter, though. “This is the perpetual choir, currently on shutdown.”

Herbert Gold stared at each frozen character in turn. “So… it’s not a perpetual choir. Since they’re not singing currently. To be perpetual…”

“They sing within,” interrupts King Tully. “There is no difference in the play of life between inward and outward. It’s all golden appearances and then golden opinions and values. Everything counts equally if you’re gold. Isn’t that right Merry Gouldbusk?”

“Yes,” the trailing daughter dutifully utters without thinking of her father’s nonsensical speech too much, a long honed practice.

“And… the name?” Herbert Gold was becoming impatient with the king perpetually sitting on his high horse.

“Name?” King Tully returns coldly.

“You said you had something to show *us*” — he indicates both himself and the trailing Merry Gouldbusk here — “about your name. A mystery I think you put it.”

“Oh, that will come with the spirits. Look for the shapes in the air. Golden in hue, of course.”

“Some silver,” his daughter interjects, then quickly regrets it. He turns toward her. One could say he glowers at her, but a glower without emotion, if that makes sense. Emotionless rage?

About 20 seconds pass. Herbert Gold wonders if the king will smite his fair daughter, something he *definitely* doesn’t want to witness. But he simply bows (again) and turns back to Mssr. Gold. “Gold,” he reinforces. “With *some* silver.”

Merry Gouldbusk declares another small victory today.

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Filed under *Second Life, Rosehaven^^

Forest Floor

The two lovers’ hearts beat as one again from this direction, King Anderson Tully thinks from his rocky perch.

But I must get back to the castle. New guests are arriving! Filling the void of the old.

“He said he’d give us a great deal, April Mae. 300 linden dollars a month. Just like one of the Absinthe cottages.” Mssr. Gold turns. “April Mae? Where’d she go?”

The king approached.

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Filed under *Second Life, Rosehaven^^

unraveling

“I had to get rid of the doll house, Mssr. Gold. We were getting too close to the truth.”

“That’s all right Mr. Platinum. I know where to find another one.”

—–

Across the room…

“Our view has changed. Our *castle* has changed, Norris.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t like it one *bite*.”

—–

In the other room (the *only* other room now that Murdock’s castle has shrunk)…

… Petunia begins manipulating documents so that the correct reality might return.

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Filed under *Second Life, Rosehaven^^

HF

“Sure you don’t want next game, Grandpa?”

“No, Tessa, thank you.” Because he was looking for someone.

Within.

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Filed under *Second Life, Rosehaven^^