Tag Archives: Jacob I.^*

Gaston = NYC (among other things)

The Lord balancing Sugar Houses.

We know this is “Abbey Road”.

And that something is definitely going on at the Rhino along it (portal).

We know a lot about this place by now. This Gaston. But we haven’t quite grasped the story within the story. Is there one? That’s what I’m aiming to find out.


“We’ll have to kill him.”

Zach’s still waiting for Georgie Porgie and Heidi Widey to emerge from the Joint Joint. He fears the worse. He’s been there for 2 days now. But he’ll wait till The End.

What really is at the end of Abbey Road?

Where have all the Berries gone? Where’s Sugar Dumpling? Where’s… Jacob I.?

We know it is a place to hide (Hidden Vilage). Hitgal represents someone.


“But… what’s you think?”

Why the doubling with the Vilania safe hub? Why can’t Hank Graphite get back there instead of here?


“It wasn’t suppose to be this way.”

Why flies in Central Park of all places?

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Filed under *Second Life, Gaston^^

Bad Girl

—–

She-he was still experimenting with form, but had decided to be a she at least. For now. And the little zombie bear Stitches might be a keeper. And the pins — hence Penny. Not Al Mobile. Penny Mobile. Penny Something. Penny Lincoln?

“Penny Lincoln?” she tested aloud to her new doll. No response. “Is your throat all right now?”

“No.”

—–

“Time to see what’s in the crate, Stitches”

“I… can’t breathe.”

“Ahh, Stitches. The magenta cube-sim. The ultimate Second Lyfe goal.”

She sat on the cube and remembered everything.

“Stitches. I was killed!” But the doll heard nothing.

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Filed under *Second Life, The Straight^

The End 02

“But how??” Jacob I. couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. Core-alena had returned to the center of Second Lyfe!

A red handed Duncan Avocado begins his confession. “Lovely and beautiful, yes,” he said, echoing some of Jacob I.’s earlier talk about Snowlands and Second Lyfe overall. “But ultimately doomed to failure, just like Laura in the Twin Peaks enterprise. Unless I restored the center. There was only one way to do it. Move Wheeler away from the tree at the weakest point of her existence. Which was right here. In Cloudmont, just before she arrived at Purden Castle. Do you remember? She was with Snowmanster, who is also actually you again at the core. They had walked a great distance and Snowmaster was purposefully draining her of energy. She had to jettison the Old Grey avatar and become herself again. Lovely and beautiful, yes, but subject to decline and death in that moment. *This* is the ring.”

“You killed her,” spoke Jacob I., staring at Duncan’s red extremities. “You murdered her with your own bare hands. That kept her away from the tree (Core-alena), in the first place. Woody Woodmanson warned us of her aberrations that very night in the castle. It was all set up.”

Duncan Avocado allowed Jacob I.’s inaccurate theories to thread out before responding. “*Jeffrie Phillips* set it up. He appeared in the center of Gaston tonight, right where I was attempting to teleport in. I didn’t recognize him at first. He was a black man, like myself. But there was no murder involved. Just a movement. My hands have always been red. It’s a medical condition.”

“Interesting.” Jacob I. shakes his head. “Jeffrie Phillips.” He then begins his own confession. “Broken Heart and I have tried and tried to stabilize Collagesity through various gimmicks since arriving through that portal last October. Each one doomed to failure: Wheeler and The Musician — doubled bed trick failed. Spookmobile — stolen once again and then again; no ‘Pumpkintwisters’ meeting finalized. Then Hucka Doobie was pushed into the first Hunt collage which was not the first Hunt collage before this happened. Collagewold,” Jacob I. emphasized. “He’s inside now. That was the way out all along.”

“Yes,” affirmed Duncan. “You must go back to Gaston and set me free and allow me to do what I just did in the past and future as well as the present. Else it is all for naught. Your precious Sugar Dumpling awaits you. All the Berries. You *do* miss that life there, don’t you? Broken Heart can accompany you back, of course. And there’s *pot*. Pot galore, thanks to Leona Lei and the Hilltoppers.”

“Leona! I knew she’d come through.” Jacob I. whirled around in his tracks. “You hear that Broken Heart?”

Duncan disappeared from in front and Broken Heart appeared behind. “I hear ya!” She was already counting how many times she could get high in one day.

END OF COLLAGESITY 2017-2018 WINTER!

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Filed under *Second Life, Purden/Snowlands^

The End 01

—–

They sat in the attic of House Greenup with its transparent roof, set up several weeks back on the edge of Cloudmont near the center of the Snowlands part of Sansara, Second Lyfe’s oldest continent.

“It’s a lovely view, Broken Heart.”

“Thank you.”

Jacob I. paused and looked over at his friend. His only true friend. “Why did you say, thank you? Are you claiming to create all this beauty?”

“No. I’m saying thank you for not calling me Jackie. My paper days are over. I am so sober now that I cannot even change into my animal form. I remain a tiny.” He repositions himself in the arm chair. “Fun fact, Jacob I.: the famous circus dwarf Charles Stratton, better known as General Tom Thumb, had a specially adapted home in tiny Thimble Islands, Connecticut where he lived with his dwarf wife Lavina. A specially designed thimble can be made for the thumb. Additionally, the word thimble and thumb have a common linguistic origin. Why would this man made famous by P.T. Barnum choose these particular islands to live? Yet another circus gimmick or trick? Or was there some deeper reason tied to his core being. Was he tapping into, I don’t know, a higher flow?”

Jacob I. ponders over this. “Must have been,” he concludes. He looks again at his friend. “You better change, Broken Heart. The end has come.”

—–

A tiny, dark figure appears high on the slopes of the looming, white mountain. Heading downwards.

Jacob prepares to greet him.

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Clemscott

“The more I look at Greenup 03, Broken Heart, the more I think it is about Spica just above the celestial equator turning into Vega and igniting brighter in the process, like, um, an ant being burned by a magnifying glass. Tonya Two Egg — the close Spica binary star — is stuck like unto a frying pan in the Horizons-Spica sim which is actually the Horizons-Vega sim, unable to remove herself from intense scrutiny. The ice fishing shack is a time and space portal. Can she reach all the way back to VHC City and heal the wound?”

But Broken Heart is instead staring toward Greenup 02 on the opposite wall, thinking:  This is you, Jacob I. my friend, my comrade. Prince Martin. Will you be able to heal *yourself*?

—–

“All the dreams reaffirm the same location and the same needed action, Mary,” Pitch speaks from the viewing platform after parking the freshly stolen orange beetle at the appropriate spot down below.

“It all makes sense now: apple, orange, yellow fruit — banana…

… and then the giant lime on Merlin’s Mound — thank you Wheeler Wilson!”

“You’re welcome!”

“This is clearly ‘Floydada’, the start of ‘Pumpkintwisters’ analysis.”

“Nifty,” Mary replies while beginning to eat a peach.

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Filed under *Second Life, Clemscott^, Gaeta V^^

“Well, we have a giant *beaver*. How’s that?”

Marion Harding openly admitted to having a thing about trees. Here we see him climbing up the ladder into a treehouse he’s fancied recently. The owners of the main house on the property were never around, it seemed. And there was a gas station nearby which provided a small bathroom and also a bed for his more basic needs. Then there was the nice view of *the* tree.

Most Ancient One (MOA)  was the most impressive thing in Capitol City to Marion. “Nothing like this in your South Yankton,” he told Philip Strevor the other day while petting its massive trunk. This is Gaeta V, *not* GTA V. And while bland and boring overall yes, there are still advantages.” He started to mention Heidi as well, but didn’t want to get Philip thinking along those lines again — about “retirement” in this Muff-Bermingham run by that tall, pale dame he’s described. The heist should be the main focus now. That’s what they were meeting about at the tree’s base. For even Philip knew the huge old growth had authentic power. Power to expose and power to hide. Whatever was in the hearts of men at the moment. And, through knowledge gleaned from his wacky weed and attached fantasy friends, Marion understood how to harness it.

They’d left the kid at the playground in the snowier part of town. George was looking after her. George swears up and down that he’s 13 and not the 10 or so he appears to be. And, anyway, both Marion and Philip knew that Heidi Hunt Ives could take care of herself for sure. It’s just the *impression* of caretakers they were after. Part of the cover.

Anson. He’d received the name from The Oracle that is The Tree. An auto, a *bug*, stolen and then stolen again. Formerly buried in the sand at the wrecked ship just north of Fae’s Boat House by Tom the Booker — Tom Booker — now deceased and buried himself somewhere in the eastern reaches of Corsica Prime. Car thieving was his livelihood. But this theft was special. Because there was something stashed in the exhaust system he didn’t know about. A 50,000 linden reward issued by the Purple Gang of the Black Lake District alerted him to the situation. Then the kid plugged her own ultra valuable information into the equation. This is *the bug* she stated more than once she was working on, beyond the old and middle aged women, beyond even the poodle. Not an insect, but at the same time, yes an insect, she cryptically claimed. A philosopher’s stone she termed it for him.

This is why he decided to bring her into their fold in the first place. The bug. And she claimed to have the power to know exactly where it was at any one time. And it would continue to get stolen, again and again. The money would keep roll’n in.

—–

“We’re gonna drive this car all the way to ‘Pumpkintwisters’ this time, Jackie.”

“Shut up and get starting.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Capitol City^, Gaeta V^^, Heterocera^^, Rubi^

Zappa groupie?

“I *know* this person, Biker Mann,” Cyberpaperdoll stated while zooming into a snapshot from the last Sunklands post. “This Anorexia or Annie. It’s Baker’s friend! From the old synching board. Raynbowladirubislyppers.”

“Interesting,” he replied nonchalantly while continuing to stare out the window toward Home Orange and the comings and goings of Jacob I. and Broken Heart. But Biker isn’t my name any longer, Roger Pine Ridge thought to himself. You don’t know who *I* am.

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Heterocera^^, Rubi^