Tag Archives: Ingo^*

back in NWES…

“Why are we still here, Alice?”

“Merry, please,” Merry Gouldbusk requested. “Merry Gouldbusk,” she asked in full.

“Sure, um, but, er, all the cameras have left. We’re all alone. Bob Waffleburg’s already started his next production. An adaptation of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s ‘Septimius Felton.'”

“Oh we’re still being filmed.” She looked all around at the camera-less vicinity.

“Yeah, so you’ve said before.” Actor Jack Toadswallow stared over at his co-star. *Former* co-star. But lover in this reality, not little sister. True, he was observing her all the time. *He* was filming her, in a way, in a manner. With his eyes.

Something appeared in the distance, beyond the missing piece of wall, perhaps beyond the skyscraper even. Alice pointed it out.

“Look, Ingo.” Jack had given up trying to get Alice to call him by his real name any more.

“Yes, what is it dear?” He still stared, he still photographed. What she saw excited her: dilated pupils. He turned as well.

“W-what is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know Alice, er, Merry,” replies the smaller in stature lover/brother. Looks like some kind of art from my angle.”

“*Floating* art?” she exclaimed.

“Um, yes. Not attached to ground. Attached to air instead. Sky art. Perhaps even skyscraper art,” he elaborated as it then began to float into same, swallowing green, blue/yellow, and red in sharp order.

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power

The personnel in the central police station watched the burning of Club 88 and attached Little Jimmy from a distance and talked amongst themselves.

“Now order will be restored,” said Officer Brennon to Officer Barney, turning away from it for a moment. “*Big Brother* will be restored,” offered Officer Warren behind them (off-camera here). True men these were. They waited for Ms. Tanner to weigh in, the most important opinion.

“There is only one Big Brother,” she finally declared as the fire crescendoed, damage done. Casualties inside for sure. “Big brother Ingo Ratts has been eliminated, like big brother Little Big before him.” Brennon, Barney, and Warren didn’t know who Little Big was but nodded in agreement anyway. The point is: everything was reset. INGO banners had reverted to pre-film INGSOC, which stood for the fictional English Socialist Party of George Orwell’s seminal “1984” novel, and whose totalitarian ideology represented what he saw as the worst possible outcome of socialism in his native Britain.


Hehehe.

The new center of town was burning while the old one looked on satisfied.

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R

“I *knew* I’d find you here, Eighty-eight.”

“Yeah. You know I can only get so far from you, Apple of My Life.”

“How’s your flu going?” Sarcasm.

Eighty-eight didn’t answer, but instead looked to the door. The door to *her* night club. She was the Star. It all revolved around her. Like planets.

“You gonna stick around and hear me play?” she then asked, not seeing the person enter that she wanted to. Her voice was steady, unfaltering. She knew what she was doing and was in command. Not Tracy Austin Newtonia Kashkow. The latter wasn’t use to that and didn’t like it. Not one bite she didn’t.

—–

She sat at the drum kit, calmly waiting while the singer and keyboardist remained frozen around her (like planets).

Her lover entered with the sphere.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Just afterwards his car parked outside burst into flames. Like the Sun.

—–

“I think I get it,” exclaimed actress Alice Frame in her rented apartment next to Spunky’s while reading the latest script. “Ingo is controlled by the Sphere, the Sphere is controlled by…”

—–

“HIT IT!”

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appellations

The next day they explored the city together, finding mysterious yards full of containers and pipes…

… non-operating, unfinished subways…

… and loads and loads of apartments, the great majority unrented.

Well, if they don’t like the present neighbors (and they *do* have neighbors themselves — more on that soon, perhaps), there’s plenty of other places to live here. No land for sale in the area, though, except for one small 512 going for 58.6 lindens per square meter. By contrast, Baker Bloch paid an average of about 0.7 lindens for the land he set up 7 Stones on about 5 months back. So: expensive! Way too costly to contemplate another purchase, even if he had the tier freed up for it. So this is strictly a rental scene for his extended family, to tell a story about a burg much larger than 7 Stones, and its promise but also, yes, failure to live up to expectations. Rows upon rows upon rows of apartments, a strong police presence, pockets of interesting neighborhoods. But not enough, Sandy had determined a while back, and now with Merry Gouldbusk joining in the lament. Not enough to ultimately survive.

I compare with VHC City, a considerably smaller affair than NWES (still much bigger than 7 Stones, though), but with a strong, central *structure* the whole community is built around and which keeps it thriving. This would be the Virtual Hotel Chelsea, a dominating force. NWSE has no such centerpiece that I can tell, *unless* this police hq can become it.

Probably not, but thought I’d mention. Merry and Sandy Herbert also visited there this fine, crisp early October day. Merry saw something she didn’t understand.

“Look, *Herbert Dune*,” she declared while pointing upward. “INGO,” she pronounced clearly. She had said INGOR before and they had to reshoot the scene. But it was a logical mistake, *because* Ingor Ratts was a famous figure from WES, the town that kind of sort of prefigures New WES, or what we now call NWES. “Like the four directions, North West East South, combined into one,” Herbert Dune explains another time for Merry about the town’s name origin. “It’s pieces of a puzzle fitted together. Here, let me show you. I know this dude uptown who can tell us more.” But before we get to that: the first name. Merry Gouldbusk again here, then:

“INGO, Herbert Dune, is my *brother*, my slightly older brother.”

“Big Brother, then,” states Herbert Dune while nodding. “I know how they are.”

She stared at the banner again, realizing: he’s been watching me all along!

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4th

“We’ll keep an eye out on them from a distance for now. See what unfolds.”

“Yes, Ms. Tanner,” the male officers around her emitted in quasi-unity. Servants they were. To her but ultimately…

… to Ingo himself. Ingo Ratts.

“They’ll be marching to a different drummer soon.”

“Yes, Ms. Tanner.”

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WEE

“This will be the time that does him in. He will have to go there *physically* after that. Only way to really explore the place, this Necksity. He has gone too far, found too many things. He can now…”

“Don’t say it.”

“Anyway. (pause) This is the place.”

—–

“Nah. It’s not *that* kind of neck pain. It’s a bit of an infection, yes, but…”

“Don’t say it.”

“*Anyway*. This is still the place. But it’s not Necksity. *That* Necksity.”

“Then *what*?”

—–

“A limit, yes. A limit, true. We are not even baker b. and Hucka D. any longer. New WES is WES but not WES. Something new.”

Quickly: “I gathered that.”

“Two shacks in the center of town.”

“Yup.”

(pause) “We can’t be just nowhere spirits, talking in the void. Take us to at least the White Palace.”

“Yes, *somewhere*,” requests the other. But who were they? I guess that’s the point. So I brought him back.

—–

“What are you *doing* here. We have a whole *kingdom* to run over there.”

“Queendom,” she partially corrected her brother. He was drinking through his rainbow sphere covered head again. She thought nothing of it, seeing the act for years. Eating, drinking, even, well, other things. Smoking. A lot of smoking. This was another Joint Joint and that’s a fact. Beside the Rhino Club, even. “It *has* to be Gaston reborn as well,” she spoke on the subject. Dare they go into the other room? Will *he* be there? They kept delaying, chatting about other things. Catching up in general. It had been months since the two siblings had seen each other. All was not well in Rosehaven. Winter is coming.

“You go running off here and there,” the brother kept complaining. “To Sunklands… to *here*. Why Jeogeot? Why return back to that particular continent? Is it Pietmond?” he then queried. “Sunklands as a whole?” But he said it as if all the letters were capitalized. SUNKLANDS, then.

“SUNKLANDS, yes,” his sister then realized. That’s why she’d redonned the golden map mask. Bach… Goldberg Variations. Is this a *gold* town, then? Or some other metal. One way to find out…

—–

“Ok, he’s not here,” says a mainly relieved Ingo, King of Rosehaven. But a shared kingdom. Half queendom. They joked about the name all the time. Before she started her travels at least.

“No,” she stated plainly, not as relieved, and looked around the back room of the joint. A place to buy drugs, yes. Better get her brother out of here asap.

But someone *was* here.

*But*. Could they see him? Could *we* see him? (yes)

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arrival 03

It took them half a day to reach another of those clear spaces where they could make enough sense to each other for more of the story.

“A railroad oval. An engine runs into a caboose. Tale before the tiger,” Marion explained. “A race between beginning and end, she said. Tale wins.”

“Maybe tails win,” Billy Jean King said while sitting on a small bed in the corner of the otherwise almost unfurnished and undecorated cabin. “As in a coin. Flipping a coin — heads and tails.”

“Maybe.”

“What else?”

“She said to always pay attention to the blue roses. They always indicate something. We looked west now. Two thrones — blue roses to side. She said these were the Prince and Princess of Rosehaven, but only when Caledon is Caledonia.”

“See?” BJK nudged Philip sitting beside her in the ribs. “I *told* you it was Caledon. Maybe we were in the wrong place to start with.”

“No,” insisted Marion. “We were definitely in the right place. Caledonia. And then — get this — they removed their, er, masks. Actually the Prince had on some rainbow swirly globe or something — over his head. The princess just shed her golden skin, like a snake. ‘Let the waters rise,’ they said in unison, then. I looked around but didn’t see any water, let alone water rising. But something had changed. I could feel it.”

I also noticed there was a tiny bit missing from the Prince’s fin-foot, like it was bitten a little bit.”

“A little *bite*,” BJK insisted. She turned toward Philip knowingly. Philip just stared back blankly.

“The Princess’ shoe was right there.”

“Achilles heel?” BJK offered, visualizing it backwards in her mind.

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