—–
“So we *finally* found it, Brother Gabby,” he said, looking up at the numbers on the side of Frank’s castle. “The answer to everything!” Then fellow bike rider and pilgrim Gabby proceeded to gab on for about 50 minutes about how Brother Amos was so right in this initial observation.
Non-illuminated zero? Add that in too.
Now to the top…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0407, Frank's Moving Castle, GTA, GTA old, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
Suddenly the required cane for the mission I held in my hand begins to shake. For 7-10 minutes this went on. Then it calmed down, calm calmm, and began to speak instead. With the first words out of its little wavery mouth now located at the end of its crook, the cane directed me back to the windows on the opposite side, where it was still dark instead of dawn and the blue was more illuminating, highlighting the blue in my just purchased outfit better, as I’m looking at it again, along with the red hair also acquired recently, this blue and red also mission requirements.
I break the windows, or I should say, the windows broke me — I mean, *it* broke them for me, or attempted to. The cane I mean. Literally I had no control over it by then. But the panes resisted, the blue light persisted. I guess the windows broke the cane as well (figuratively) because after about 7-10 minutes more of this he gave up. Rudy was his name and caning was his game, he said. “This should work!!” he uttered with his tiny tongue wagging out now. “What’s so tough about this weird ass glass??!” TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0406, Critterville, GTA, GTA old
—–
“Come on in, gentlemen,” leads t-shirt wearing Karl. “Everyone grab them a seat. Big Smoke, you sit opposite me if you don’t mind. We’re the ones to start.”
“Oh I *do* mind.”
“Well, never mind that ghetto front now, ha ha.”
“Ho ho,” responds Big Smoke, a smile breaking on his face as well. He pats Karl on the back before sitting opposite him as instructed.
—–
“Big Smoke,” Karl begins the serious part of the Grove Street gang reunion, “I turned you into Big Black Smoke in the blog and attached photo-novels to match The Kinks song of that title. So because of the flip side of that one being called ‘Dead End Street’ on the single, the A side to match ‘Big Black Smoke’s’ B, I made you sleep at the end of a dead end street here in Our Second Lyfe and then had you killed by a man named Arthur Kill because you were a rat. I didn’t know anything about you also living at the end of a dead end street in San Andreas at the time, nor that you were also a rat, a traitor, in that game. So we start with that. I had *unconscious* knowledge of our previous lives but not direct knowledge. That’s the beginning for us, the seed.”
“Big Black Smoke (name) would have fit me better in San Andreas,” Big Smoke replies. “But Rockstar probably didn’t want to go there. And *where’s* my mofo ghetto accent, he he he? Laughs all around now. Everyone had ditched that angle to more directly speak to the reader, you out there, beyond the 4th wall, listening in. I could have slapped a ghetto accent on them but that seemed to be forcing it.
“What about *Marty*?” Lance spoke to his left, having the same blog and attached photo-novel knowledge that Karl and the rest did. 4 equidistant chairs in a well chosen place in Our Second Lyfe will do that to you. You could call it a TILE but that maybe wouldn’t be going far enough since the chairs are all white this go around. A *unity*, a 4n1. Comes in handy sometime, especially when you want to pull out on a painful subject for needed distance. Like here. San Andreas… Grove Street.
“Marty killed Arthur Kill the killer he hired to kill you,” answered Karl. “But that was later. After the lego people arrived.”
“Hmm,” Lance said, reviewing all this in his head as well.
“So in (this) game — Lance — you’re Big Black Smoke’s grieving brother. But you conveniently forget that fact when you arrive at the airport in Nautilus a couple of photo-novels later to pick him up. But perhaps this is before the killing and actually makes time-sense here. You call him Smokie in those couple of related posts but we know this is Big Black.”
Big Smoke (indicating his body): “Black goes with green like n-ahs and Grove Street, hu hu.” Snickers all around if not laughs. Everyone was a little uncomfortable with the use of the n word now. Unlike before. Different times, different situation. Maybe the chairs again.
“Sweet.” Karl turns right now. “You’re *not* my brother Sweet in this scenario but someone named Sean ‘Green’ Penn. We’ve actually never even interacted in this blog (and attached photo-novels) up till this point. *Proving* my point. Instead you’re mainly involved in the Storybrook, er, story. Photo-novel 19. You’re best friends with a girl named Pink who’s only called that by those closest to her. Others *knew* her as Marsha.”
“Because she’s dead,” Sweet explained the “knew” part of Karl’s description, to the reader again if not the ones seated around the fire here. “But… she came back to life in photo-novel 40. And — me too later on, come to think of it. How?” Death by rats as well, Sweet remembered oh so painfully as Sean. Draw back, draw back!
“Karl”
“Karl!”
“KARL!!!”
He finally turns away from the corn. “Yess?”
“Time to go home.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0313, GTA, GTA old, Iowa, Jeogeot, Rodentia 02
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacob_D._Robida
In the afternoon of February 4, 2006, Robida’s vehicle was seen about 1,500 miles (2,400 km) away in Arkansas, where Jim Sell, a Gassville police officer, initiated a traffic stop at the Brass Door Restaurant parking lot. After talking with Sell for about half a minute, Robida opened fire with a 9mm handgun, killing the officer. He turned onto Arkansas Highway 201 headed south and continued to Arkana, Arkansas, where he fired at Arkansas State Police Sgt. Van Nowlin. Police pursued him and laid spike strips; although these flattened his front tires, they failed to stop the car. Robida fled for about 18 miles down Arkansas Highway 5, where he turned south and drove into the small town of Norfork. In the middle of town he lost control of the car due to the front tires, spun out, and hit two parked vehicles.
“See, this is the problem, Daniel. As I’ve shown, Arkana is only 3 miles west of Norfolk. So how could this Robida creep flee *down* Highway 5 for 18 miles, then turn *south* — not north even — and drive into Norfolk. Something is off in this description. And I think I know what. The (Arkana-Arkawana) circle. Arkawana is 18 miles from that turn off, not Arkana. I checked.
“The circle… is… warps?” Could be, Daniel realizes, given all the other weirdness in this small area of the great state of Arkansas. Truth.
“We need to go in that oh so central library, see what they got. I know it’s *our* library in a way, more mine than yours in the end but you get where I’m coming from.”
“I do,” admitted Daniel. He’s all on board with this. Art only goes so far without writing never mind music. Art and words together, like in a photo-novel, yes. He’s getting the hand of this.
“And just from this wikipedia page, there’s more…
On February 7, 2006, Jack Thompson, a disbarred attorney, commented on the incident, describing… the killing of Sell as a “suicide by cop homicide” inspired by Grand Theft Auto.[11] Police later dismissed the “suicide by cop” theory when it was discovered that Robida had fatally shot himself.[12]
Thompson claimed to have spoken to a New Bedford detective,[13] who “repeatedly” said Robida’s friends had said “he played the Grand Theft Auto games”. No further details have emerged, but the following day the Bristol County District Attorney rejected the video game link after examining all the evidence collected from Robida’s apartment and car.
“Who just showed up in Iowa in this here current photo-novel? (K)arl from Grand Theft Auto, and the main version that would have been current at the time (GTA:San Andreas). We need to get back to him, see how he’s doing. We got sidetracked in Beaconsfield. Now that you’re okay and back on the correct timeline, we have to follow more his story.” TBC
Soon he’d forgotten he had weapons and armor in the first place and was instead doing a bit of light grocery shopping for the Kennedys down in the hollow who were both sick on Pill (highly contagious!). Backwards Iowa just did that to people, brought them back to Earth where they came from, made them care about their fellow humans again because there wasn’t a lot else to care about in this corn invested place of a state. Jack the husband said he wanted Kaboom cereal which he was trying to find. Fellow sugar addict and loving wife of 57 years Marge said that she preferred Lucky Charms so when he located the aisle with the cereal he’ll pick up a box of that too. Both were blind to the fact that this high sugar intake left them vulnerable to diseases like The Pill, lowered their natural immune defenses. “5 dollars should cover it all,” Jack said while handing him the bill before he climbed back up the hill into town again but he was living in the 20th Century still so Karl knew it would take quite a bit more than that to buy the stuff they requested. Luckily more in-tune-with-the-times Marge slipped him another 5 as he was going out the door — still not quite cutting it but maybe getting close enough where he could cover the rest with the two dollars a boy gave him earlier in the day for fixing a flat tire on his bicycle. That’s when he discovered he could be kind as well as mean, a kind of first in his weighed down, ghetto constricted life.
As he was checking out, he overhead bits of a conversation from the couple behind him, something about Hy-Vee here not being the grocery store it started out as, and in turning into a large chain it had lost that small village feel which made it so special in the first place. “Not like Beaconsfield, no,” said the husband of the two, obviously having a memory of this place in his head. Beaconsfield, huh, Karl thought. He’d register the name in his brain as Carla the Clerk’s register ran up $11.92 in total for the cereal. Phew! Just made it. TBC?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0302, Iowa
—–
Might as well give this so-called Abyss a try since I’ve managed to come across a key, lucky me. Not expecting much honestly, given what the game has had to offer so far. Entering…
Hypercube, huh. *Kind of* interesting. Resonant with some of my own stuff anyway. Desert of a story no more as promised by The Others? We’ll see. Passing through…
Iowa, *dangit*! Should’ve guessed. Different type of sand. One made of corn. Aw shucks, I suppose. And I lost my armor and weapons in the transition *sigh*. Must be a security thing. Have to fight off the locals by hand. Maybe procure some more weapons in a pillaged house or something. Here we go!… TBC?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0301, Crimson Desert, GTA, GTA old, Iowa
“I think it’s painfully obvious that I’m Noodle in this scenario,” lead singer Shelley Johnston Struthers spoke over to band manager Wendell Biff Carter, out on a break from rehearsing, their third of the night. Lots of STOPS and GOS for this one, like in a heated game of Mille Bornes. Trouble. Friction. Inertia. No one could even decide which band members were present or not. Sometimes Sherwood was a kid and other times a fully functional adult, albeit a brilliant drummer at whatever age he appeared. Things were in FLUX.
“Okay, I agree,” said Biff, thinking of all the changes and shifts and sputterings too. “We’ll make that another concrete truth of the blog and attached photo-novel,” he said, but, again, that’s probably me talking through him. So let’s leave out that sentence and say Biff merely agrees with Shelley on her statement. She is Noodle. She’s also Pink tonight. He approves of both. Then he brings up a subject he knew he shouldn’t broach.
“Listen, Shelley. I’ve been doing some research. Staying a classical, so-called non-mesh avatar is fine. But it seems people who choose to follow that path with their outward appearance at least get new and improved mesh hands and feet. I wouldn’t touch the head, though.” He looks over at her head, thinks of the smile (not currently present upon it, though), that beautiful innocence. No, leave the head for sure.
Shelley looks down at her extremities. “I’m not changing *anything*.” She was stubborn about remaining classical. She also likes classical vegetation, builds. Helps reduce lag. What’s not to like? She’s been around long enough to remember the good old days and the excitement of Our Second Lyfe when it was relatively fresh and new… and *non-mesh*. That excitement is still there but in pockets instead of an overall vibe. You have to dig a bit more these days.
“I *do* like the pink,” says Biff, trying to smooth over his mistake. We can build up from that, he thinks. Whatever happens, I’m *not* going back to the restaurant business. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0203, Jeogeot, Rodentia 02
I keep pushing and pushing, outward and outward, but I may have reached a limit. The Abyss.
I’m seeing things in the wrong places. JAX again.
On the other hand, there’s the magnificent Barkley’s Barnyard Critters videos. Rudy!
I pick back up the cane and run with it.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0115, ADC, Critterville
He broke away from her all knowing all seeing eyes, understanding more. Something was wrong, something was off. Sherwood *can’t* be first, since he is the youngest and hadn’t grown up enough yet to play the drums properly in the band. “Paper” *can’t* be second because Sherwood is too young to begin, and so on. Then it hit him. Things were playing out *backwards* from the red book he holds in his hands. Biff Carter — himself — came first. The manager to begin; he started everything. Then Scissorrun© — the band had several names before that, even. Yes, he’s remembering them now. And then “Paper,” their signature tune and their only “hit” to date, was 3rd. Then and only then came Sherwood, who had finally aged enough to join the group. 4-3-2-1 from the book instead of 1-2-3-4. Reading it that way everything fell into place. “Sherwood the rock solid drummer is last,” he began to reveal these thoughts back to Jennifer.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0606, Jeogeot, Pennsylvania, Rodentia 02
Sunklands 