Tag Archives: Jer Left Horn^*++++

00460613 (library & cave (Windsong 3))

They were disappointed that they couldn’t sit directly across from each other and talk. Tessa had found something in her book about the Windsong fairy and wanted to tell Carolin. But she had to wait. All she could do in the moment was give a big thumbs up to her mate, her gal pal from the old days in the caves. Carolin returned with a thumbs up of her own. She’d found something too. Cat-people. Secret room. Somewhere around the Windsong portal. So two Windsong finds. Although they couldn’t talk with each other to coordinate the tales and make them as one. Because that’s what they were.

Benny Right Horn knows this too now, having visited the End of Time library several days back and coordinating the two stories himself. Rebl and Guyd were two cat-people, cat *aliens* indeed, who were left behind as the rest of their kind boarded the Mother Ship waiting for them in space and went back home to their red cube planet, probably circling the giant red star Betelgeuse by the color of it, Benny determined. And that’s where my brother must have gone, he thought. He’d also heard about the 1 after 909 ship from Big Ass Franz the bartender at the castle in the skies. Upon threat of death, sharp and long knife blade held to throat. Despite his flabby, unkept appearance, Benny had expert military training in the Queen’s army too just like his trimmer shaped and sharper dressed brother. The Queen, who just happened to be their mother, insisted on the training; knew it would come in handy to save their lives not once but a number of times most likely. She’d seen them argue as toddlers and then argue and fight in their schools as children and teenagers and then argue and fight and argue in their jobs as so-called grown ups quote unquote. Troublemakers these two were. But they were *her* troublemakers still. She had to make sure they were protected.

He wouldn’t stick to the tracks this time, because that just shoots you out the other side, he knew from his prior visit. But he also wouldn’t try to pick his way through the rest of the dangerous, labyrinthine cave system to find the cat-people’s hidden lair and be led astray that way. He’ll stay put in one place, and he knows precisely where this should be.

The pretty nature room adjacent to the watery Windsong sim Portal. Whatever goes down, it will happen here — he’ll *make* it happen.

Setting up camp for  the night…

… and *quietly* warming up on the guitar, he he he. He’s had expert training that way as well — but it’s been a while.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0613, End of Time^^

00460606

Tessa (after getting a busy signal for the fifth time at the station and then giving up): “Oh DARN. And I so so wanted to catch up with my old old friend Carolin from the Caves. I have news about them!”

MEANWHILE… Seventy-six radio station manager Marty had been stabbed in the head, heart and hands, leading to a severe decrease in health. Only the hustle of local paramedics Charlie and Peet saved his sorry ass.

https://www.morningagclips.com/head-heart-hands-and-health-a-short-history-of-4-h/

“Can… of worms,” he said up to them weakly as they carted him off in a gurney to the Chilbo General Hospital where he stayed a week I believe before getting strong enough to leave. But employee Carolin would be gone by then, unable to be canned by him for her troublemaking down at the station because she had, in essence, canned herself. Back to the caves with Tessa, who’d caught up with her by other means, in-person visit I’m guessing.

The stabbings? Cat-people, cat *aliens*. Who were looking to get back to their cubic, red home planet at any cost. Or so THE OTHERS would have you believe. Others led by the Horns (= Big Bosses).

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0606, Chilbo^, End of Time^^, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, SG Park

00460512 (Big Boss 02)

“Oh my GOD, you’ve *got* to be kidding,” says Fran to Cloe after Benny Right Horn tried to persuade the 2 girls in the same way as his actually handsome brother Jer Left Horn did over 5 years before. Nudity permitted on the docks: he’s taking “advantage” of that allowance as well.

Cloe said, “what? what?”, not looking away from her phone or turning around. She was still searching for that video of the cow blowing the farmer’s hat off without moving its mouth, ha. She knew Fran would find it hilarious.

“He’s actually got *2* censors to cover his ass it’s so massive, one for each cheek.”

“Speaking of asses…” And Cloe shows Fran the found video.

“Wow,” says Fran after the 7 second clip was over. “That was loud.”

“And windy (!). Soo… what were you saying?”

“Never mind.” Fran had enough of “bad” asses for a while.

But he had an ace in the hole. Or in the front. Oh no oh no, Benny don’t do it. But he did.

“Oh giiiirrrrls.”

Fran’s jaw drop when she saw Benny’s “pipe”. Benny was an old porn star. Like recently featured blog actor Drew “Grumpy” Cleveland currently residing in the Omega continent’s Castletown. You remember: from photo-novel 43. In fact, let’s have it that Drew started out as Benny’s stunt double. And perhaps also visa versa, each taking turns with each other, depending on the nature of the film. Drew liked front and Benny liked back. The arrangement worked out swell for several years. They easily edited the horn that grew out of the right side of his head in post-production. When *needed*.

And because of the turn, he’d get that information about the cat-people (aliens). Now to the caves to find them for real. No pussyfooting around this time!

“See ya later… giirrrls,” he said in parting after putting his clothes back on front ways. Slooowly.

“You bet!” said still slack jawed Fran. “What-ever,” said still phone playing Cloe, looking for more funny videos for her dear dear friend Fran.

(to be continued)

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00460510 (Big Boss 01)

“I’m surprised you’re still here, Big Ass Franz. Bartending, I mean. I thought you had bigger dreams for the world.”

“And I’m surprised *you’re* still here, Jer Left Horn. Playboy lifestyle like yours tends to cut a life short. What’s it been? 5 years?

“At least.”

“Why are you here?” Franz cut to the chase. “Cat-people again?”

“You guessed it. I started… to miss them. I really really started to miss them. Out of the blue.”

“Well… understandable — they can do that,” he admitted. “But they’re gone. Or at least I haven’t seen any around in many a blue moon,” he doubled down on the blue. He was lying but he kept a pretty good poker face going. Jer L.H. was not good but great at reading faces, though. He picked up on the untruth, but played along. Like any top notch poker player great with faces can do if needed.

“Yeah, noticed all the pictures of them had been taken down around here.”

“Yuuup. No need to keep them up.”

“Right right. Soo… Rebl?”

“Oh,” said Franz in his husky voice, slightly taken aback. “So you remember that part too. Don’t recall *revealing* that bit o’ information to you the last time.”

“You didn’t,” Jer replied. “Dug it up myself. Asked around. Military training, you see. Half spy, half gestapo. The Queen’s army. And that’s all you need to know about that.” He had the power to hypnotize if he blurted out the wrong thing, especially when drinking. He decided this wasn’t one of those moments. As long as he didn’t specify which queen.

“Okay, Queen’s army, huh?”

“*A* Queen’s army.”

“Alright. Soo… Mr. Left Horn — sir — you’ve asked your questions and reached your deadends. Now what? How about ordering a beer or three to keep this ol’ bartender going with your well salaried royal military money. In fact…” He leans over and quietens his voice. “If you give me a royal tip as well maybe my memory will be jostled about just what happened to them… the cat-people, the cat-*aliens*, mind you.”

“Will it?” ask Jer Left Horn plainly.

“Might. For the right, ahem, tip.” Still leaning, voice still low.

How much was it worth for Jer to “tip” this man? He decides to slam his left hand down on the bar to indicate he’s done here, head horn castling a curving shadow upon it. “Maybe I’ll see you later, Franz. Got some more leads to follow…”

“Horse’s mouth, here,” he pointed out before the horned man got too far. “Remember that.” Jer waved him off… but perhaps Franz was right, he quickly backtracked. Would be hard to find a person who actually *dated* one of those feline aliens. And he was in love with her, he recalled, and perhaps she him. Even better. He turns around, pulls out a 500 from his jacket, lays it on the counter. He was willing to go up to 5000 but figured this might do the trick with somewhat slow Franz. It did up to a point.

“Red planet,” he said.

“Mars?”

“Red planet is all I can say for 500.” Jer pulls out 4500 more, totally intrigued and all in on the mystery.

Turns out it was cube shaped of all things. A f-cking big ass red cube of a planet way way out in space somewhere, perhaps as far as Betelgeuse, Franz said, which would, in fact, explain the color, Jer Left Horn thought: solar reflection from that massive red giant of a star. Only the truly privileged knew about it, Franz insisted, and then took the money and told Left Horn to go away. Far far away. He had no problem with this now. “Easiest way to get there is the 1 after 909,” Franz said about a needed spaceship, his last bit of information revealed. 5000 dollars well well spent! thought Jer, free to leave the bar and End of Time itself for good…

… only to have another Horn, the Right one, almost immediately take his place there. Make that at exactly the same time to be more dramatic. 9:01 Jer leaves, 9:01 Benny arrives. But down at the docks and not the bar. Benny didn’t know about the bar, at least not yet.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0510, End of Time^^, Mars^^

00460507

*Done* with the folding and done for the day, she thinks, sweat beading on her forehead from all the humidity around here because of the, well, *water* — over her 2 feet and up to 3-4 feet, pheh. *Now* what? she wonders. Back to *his* place?

“TOILET,” he calls from over the intercom, making her realize she had one more chore to accomplish before she could get paid. Orders of the big boss.

“Wolvie, closing up for the day!” Emily said in synchronicity with the video from somewhere beyond the cracked door, trying not to look in. She’s learned to deal with it.

“Just visiting the bathroom again and done!” he called back.

—–

“Cleaning, of course,” said Wheeler about same bathroom. “Not the other stuff. But still quite nasty, one could say. I believe you could put the big boss firmly in the sadist category. It all just got… out of control.”

“Nah, you’re okay, you’re good,” opined James Smoker, sitting across the bum camp fire from her, still holding and puffing on two cigarettes at once — while he could. “No need to crucify yourself over the matter,” he says, watching her “burn” through the fire. Like a witch. Or maybe a witcher, hmm. “This so-called Big Boss (*cough*): sounds like he’s just a butthead, a butt *period*,” he continued in his gravelly voice growing deeper and more gravelly by the year, the week. He hadn’t told her about the terminal thing. And he hadn’t revealed his true name. Not yet. So she just kept imagining him as James Smoker.

“Nice of you to say so,” says Wheeler. “But I’m afraid the whole town knows, the whole town looks down on me.” Still burning away inside a fire of her own devising.

“Those *Uptowners* might,” said James Smoker to this. “But us Downtowners… we stick together through thick and thin. Like bounded sticks.” He puts his two cigarettes together with his two hands to emphasize his point. Burny sticks, she understands — local nomenclature. If she burns, he burns; nice gesture from him.

So James S. considered her a Downtowner, she thought. Interesting. Even though she worked Uptown, lived Uptown. Maybe Willa Brown Halter is on the wrong side of the issue.

“What about *Mid*town?” she decided to ask, curious about the so-called neutral zone between the divisions, upper and lower. Where she was floored by Charlene that day of the town meeting and so had to pick herself up off the slanted pavement in order to attend.

“Center Core?” he responded, thinking of his primary reason for coming here to this Burg in the first place. To find a place where he could crawl into and die.

He decides to just blurt it out, the reason, the end point. Only crackles from the fire for a while after that.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0507, Jeogeot, Nautilus, The Burg, Upper Austra^

00450406 (deception)

Shelley Johnston (or Johnson) Struthers found that there were two options for teleportation at the Big V on Valgate, another one of Nautilus’ Rim Isles along with nearby Viterbo just visited by Philip Strevor in a dream. She was standing at 108/108/108 before it, certainly a significant location with its triple number of length/width/height within the sim representing The Moon in all aspects. One of the options was a club in the neighboring sim of Oleg called Relics. Through Jer Left Horn she’d already been there, back in novel 43, talking about the relic from the game Cyberpunk 2077 logically enough, especially given that throughout it all we look from the perspective of a person name *V*. This is obviously related to that.

—–

“I like your hair,” says Emeralda, wishing she had some herself. Which Shelley then arranged, deal swung. She then knew what Jer Left Horn from back in photo-novel 43 was looking for. The Devil, but a particular blue one. “Guy named Mike,” Emeralda said, still remotely playing with the size and positioning of the wig upon her head, a duplicate of Shelley’s except for the green color to match her body. “Had a mate named Pat. Both fruit headed. Lemon and lime, although I can’t remember which is which. Center of Missouri they were from, but more immediately, North Carolina and Tennessee, although, again, which is which escapes me. Is that enough? Can I still keep the hair?”

“Location?” Shelley pressed. “She’d heard rumors about a Lemon Free State existing in the left middle lower upper part of the continent back in the day. A failed country, more importantly, rulers perhaps still on the roam. They could be anywhere. She had to pinpoint.

Emeralda found a position on her head which seemed to fit just right after reducing all wig prims by 5%. She tried to analogize this to the continent, the right position on it to find the roaming, former aristocracy. “Duke,” she said, remembering the title, the dependency.” She didn’t say anything else for a minute.

“And, let’s see, Pat as a Duchess (then)?” Shelley filled in the gap.

“I’m… not sure,” said Emeralda back. “Had two boys as I recall. Benny and Jer– *wait*.”

Green Emeralda stared at blue Shelley across the gap and it closed. The hair was magical. They were one. Shelley was back in the Tiler shed, hiding from the whites of their eyes. And the skin, white as well. Whites all around. Which was bad. She’d He’d have to kill them all after gaining their trust. He’d find a way.

“And this is where we came in,” says Fern to likewise observing Billy.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0406, Badlands, C2077, Nautilus, Rim Isles

00440505 (the end of AISLE 01?)

I check to see when the next due date is on my Aisle of Palms rent. 1 week away. Decision time (again).

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00440410 (cow?)

She came in from a planet called Red Dead, she said. St. Dennis, she specified. Said she was very busy there and what did I need? I asked her what was so important there that she was so bothered to meet with me, her other half after all. Something — the male counterpart — of sorts. Maybe we need to sort all that hierarchy and stuff out soon too. Maybe now, hmm. So I told her this after she sat down, ordered her own drink. She was wearing the Crazy Blue, good. That means she would be obedient to me. I checked my watch on purpose. “Been waiting 2 hours, you know. 2:27 now.”

“I know what time it is,” came her response. “I have a clock in my head.”

Doubtful, I thought. Then I thought again. Could she? Powerful, I knew. From another planet — probably true.

We went out on the balcony, me and her. Well, she was on the balcony and I was standing just inside, still staring at the harbour, the boat I couldn’t see because of the building and all. East end. I asked her about it.

“Oh that old thing. It’s just a cargo boat.” She stopped, looked at me with a glint in her eye. *She’s* the cargo, I realized. Mechanoid? So I asked her that too.

“Long long ago,” she began her answer. “There was a forest, a woods. Big Woods, let’s call it. And in the middle of that woods, a Sugar Shack, run by a gal named Sugar. But no ordinary gal. A *dinosaur* gal — small one, granted, but a dinosaur.”

“Yeah, you’re giving me the backstory of Aisle of Palms so what? And I suppose *this* Aisle makes 3, a perfect triangle.”

“Not perfect. But close.”

I turn on the shaders so I can see her better, in her true light and color. Hopefully I can keep from crashing out of this world again. But I couldn’t resist.

“Do you want me to change out of the Crazy Blue?” she asked, trying to adjust her AO so she could seem more natural standing in the corner of the balcony.

“Whatever.”

“You will have no control over me if I do.”

I felt the horn on my head, sprouting left right.

“Alright.”

She had gone through about 10 standing animations. I thought 2 were fine — including the present one — and told her so. “You can stop,” I said. “Just stop.”

“Do you think I’m fat?” she ended as the waves crashed behind her.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0410, Big Woods, Blue Feather Sea^, Jeogeot, Maebaleia/Satori, RDR2

00440409 ([delete name])

There’s a boat out there she came in on but I couldn’t see it from this angle. Blocked by the east end of the Harbour Master Building. I thought this queer. Why couldn’t I know?

And which of me is which?

Someone steps out of the Breakfast Aisle Shuttle in front of it.

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00440405 (Big Ear (Breakfast at Tippany’s))

—–

“Thank you for meeting with me [delete name].”

“Did I have any choice?”

“Not really,” Jer Left Horn answered. “Now about my brother.”

—–

“What did my brother tell you?” Benny Right Horn asked right off the bat.

“That you’re a liar and don’t trust anything you have to say. You’re a Democrat. That’s what he called you.”

“Well he’s a Republican,” the right horned one of the brothers responded. “They lie even more. They lie *all* the time, not just some of it.”

“He said… that only one can continue. The other must end. What does he mean?”

Benny pondered this for a second. “That only one of us is the true Horn. Where the message came through. Problem is, no one knows which is which. Tipping point,” he ended his point.


Breakfast Aisle

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0405, Blue Feather Sea^, Maebaleia/Satori