“We could send her over to New Eden to live with recently reunited Wendy and Axis, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Probably not the best surrogate parents.”
“Nah,” she answered.
“There’s a treehouse with a butterfly theme perched on the top of a prominent Omega continent peak. That might do the trick.”
“For a while.”
“But it has to be butterflies.”
“Yes,” she answered.
watch out! (he or she’s okay)
23 22 (male; 2009)
22 23 (female; 2012)
Maybe this blog will turn into Google Earth oddities and veer away from Second Life© stuff. Finding *so much* in Picturetown (alone!). If only Hucka D. could weigh in.
102 utility box, 2009 (absent)
102 utility box, 2012 (present)
EXACTLY 200 meters between the two, which JUST became a blog tag last night. And in the center? YORK, which eventually turns into MARY. Mary York = Charlene the Punk (= Wheeler = Her Majesty the Bigfoot/Yeti), who just talked to Giant Tiger in Rubi.
Baker Bloch approached the clipboard on the white desk against the white wall. Whitewashed it was. He should have done this weeks ago, months: join the gym at Hucka D.’s White Palace in disguise, er, the skies. But where’s the List?
“Baker! Over here!” Fern Stalin calls excitedly from the Links, eager to get to know Hucka D.’s friend better. Former friend? That’s what she wanted to find out, why they set all this up in the first place. The White Palace. Baker found it!
“Who’s that over there?” he returns, peering through the machines and equipment. “Hucka?”
Wendy Wheeler enters through a portal in the corner. Lichen Roosevelt soon joins them too. The black, white (yellow) and red altogether again. Just like a newspaper, ready to be read. True yellow was not invited, which would have consequences later.
An invisible cartoon boy, Martha Lamb thinks, studying Falmouth 36 once more on the 4th floor of the Fal Mouth Moon gallery. Hugged and loved by a visible cartoon girl with red shoes. Perhaps they are future lovers, or perhaps brother and sister. Maybe he has a defect that hides him from view — a malady — but is loved by his sister still. Odd that I think this, she ruminates.
Then over here, further away in a field, the inversion: girl invisible and boy visible. The “E” on the next collage over blinks on and off. This *is* love; mutual exchanging.
“He’s in the Great Black Swamp, Hucka. In the past!”
“First she met with Blue Thorn, who explained why he dropped the Rose along with the Thorn.”
“But he’s still ‘Thorn’,” replied [name removed to simplify].
“Right. I meant throne there.”
“Throne. Okay. That makes more sense.”
“And then the wars were brought up. The wars that are still going on now. The past is the present. At least in the Thorn Room.”
“And then Casey One Hole?”
“Yes, he showed up next. They’d moved to the bar by then. Or Tessa had. He has links all around.”
“He’s certainly ever-present,” responded [delete name].
“And then Stumpy, moved over here from Moe’s bar seemingly.”
“Who’s in charge of Moe’s now? [delete name] logically asked, being a [delete job title]. “Is it Moe again? I thought he was dead. Or maybe I’m just thinking he retired. Oh… Karl showed up… I remember now. Another 1/2 and 1/2 situation.”
“That are coming up more frequently.”
“1/2 and 1/2,” joked [delete name], to no laughter. Okay: 1/2 and 1/2 again. Baker chuckled a little bit.
“I’m telling you Hucka Doobie. The House of Joy was *right* here just yesterday. And I saw a Brendan for the first time.”
“Connected,” she im’ed back from the White Palace, too busy right now to show up in person, so she said. But was that a “lazy” word from her? I knew something was happening in this particular location of the Bellisaria continent. Hucka Doobie did too. Yet… she’s holding back.
And another game place behind it. *Right* here, he complains about the vacant lot to noone now.
“Thanks for helping out, Charlene Brown.”
“I’m busy: but I’m here.”
“Okay, so there’s the two girls who must have seen Bart, yacking in front of the Giant Tiger painting. This would be caddy-corner to you standing at the intersection of, let’s see, Main and Elizabeth. Bart should be skateboarding by you right this instant.”
“I see nothing.”
“So let’s just swing the camera around and… Charlene? Where’re you going? Come back!”
I finally spot the pink dress wearing punk again just beyond the Rosehaven Yarn Shop, about to walk under the Regent Theatre marquee. But she’s way ahead of where she should be. Where’s she going?
“I see him Baker Bloch!” she suddenly exclaimed as I pull back beside her at Main and York.
Three Beatles were crossing the road in front of me and I knew this was a special, sacred spot.
“And that’s how Bart Smipson travels between Picturetown and NWES City,” I write in a letter later to Hucka Doobie. “Through that alley with the 102 graffiti. He’s indicating how he does it!” I sign my name with love and stick it in an envelope addressed to the White Palace.
“This is the scene in Picturetown right when Bart Smipson should have been skating across main street on his way, as it turned out, to the game arcade where he does the big switcheroo and comes out in NWES City, Hucka D. Perhaps he is in front of the white truck here. Dangerous!
“But wait! Looky over there to the left (beyond the chatting girls at the corner who must have seen him skate by). A *single* tiger now where we had two staring before, or at least one eye apiece of two tigers. I know because this is in a collage composed for the last photo-novel. Behold!
“And here’s the full tiger, now whole, of the current scene. I’m not even sure I should be showing this, I don’t know, *time-skip* in the blog.
“I wonder where that Bigfoot picture is at the Consignment sim, Hucka? Instead: mermaids at the same spot. And everything else seems to have shifted around as well — windmill in front instead of back, and so on. It’s like a parallel version of itself.
“In looking at them, Hucka D., it seems the green one is the only pickle. One Pickle, then, not two.”
“No, both are Pickles. Both have the Squishy Pickle restaurants. The sand colored one in fact has two, which makes up for the (flimsy) shape in my humble estimation.”
“Takes two to know,” ventures Baker Bloch.
“Suppose. (pause) Let’s get this over with, then.”
Baker merges the pictures before them.
“A jumbled mess,” offers Baker. “And probably a copyright infringement as well.”
“From the future.”
Baker Bloch stares. “Adam and Eve, pheh.” He sighs. “The Mann was right in stepping away from all this. Where is The Mann anyway?”
“Maybe that’s next.”