Tag Archives: Kate McCoy/Katy Kidd^^$

violet consultation

“Katy is a difficult nut to crack,” continued TronAxis in his Tyranea office while Baker Bloch and Hucka Doobie furiously take notes, trying to shorten the night so that another post can be created after the present one. “Oh. Sorry I guess I should have put that another way, ahem. Kate is a difficult *case* to crack–”

“You said she still can’t tell what time it is, what year it is?” uttered Hucka Doobie, attempting to move things along.

“That’s right. One moment she’s little Katy Kidd, stuck in a purple house with an abusive mother, and then the next she’s Kate McCoy, all grown up and back in reality. How long has she been here now?” he inquired partly to himself, partly to the “guardians” Baker and Hucka sitting before him. “5 years I would guess,” he answers while looking up, then looks left. “And the purple house still sits right over there in the opposite corner of the sim. Vacant — the mother’s been dead that long. Still she torments this poor woman-child from the grave.”

Baker’s turn now. He lifts pencil from pad while starting his question. “How about the sphere? She hasn’t strayed down the path of Blue Berry Girl and gone all nudist on us? I’m not (he flips a page, checking notes before he speaks again) sure why — (flips more) she was hired actually. Wasn’t she a former patient?”

“Of Dr. Baumbeer my predecessor, yes,” answers TronAxis, trying to be as transparent as possible within the framework of client-patient confidentiality. “Blue Berry Girl is a very capable therapist, and there’s no therapist like one who understands the patient’s viewpoint, which she does.”

“And Vain and Artery Boy–” Both men in the room stare at bee-woman Hucka, more woman than ever now her antennae have permanently retracted into her skull. They know she’s on the wrong timeline, and could set them back precious minutes, seconds. They decide not to answer her and advance to the next subject. But they then speak at the same time.

“After you, Mr. Bloch,” TronAxis graciously allows.

“No, after you sir. You’re the doctor after all. The new one.”

“Alright, if you insist, thank you.”

(to be continued?)

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This Violet Sphere

“Hucka Doobie, I think we must explore the idea that Katy Kidd, at least when she was a kid — Kate McCoy, then, I’m talking about…”

“Go on,” replied the wise bee person beside him in the White Palace.

“Well, I think she may be deaf, blind and dumb, like Tommy. Or that other person.”

“Helen Keller.”

“Yeah: that one. Anyway, that may explain a lot of her problems. Like mental illness, when she’s all grown up as–”

“–Kate McCoy,” finishes Hucka Doobie for Baker Bloch. “I *think* we should explore the idea that it’s *both*.”

—–

“Now I want y’all to *feel* the sphere around you, the tension, the *weight*. Now: breath out! Let it go.”

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Southeast

A strange occurrence is happening in Port Mansfield, blocking Batty Casey from joining us tonight at the Mansfield Mansion.

We’ll have to go back to Mars instead, disguised as Marz this time.

Someone lives inside the purple Marz house with the hand, probably Katy Kidd again.

Because this is another mother abode, pheh.

—–

“My two proteges together once more, 88 and, 88. Together we make a cross. Peter’s. We can control him again.” Then she cackles. Uncontrollably.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0407, Corsica, Southeast^

next

“*Another* one,” Hidi uttered while gazing forward at the sea monster in the distance, a double to the one in Storybrook Lake.

“This must be the correct photo to begin tonight’s session with.” She then decided on another form. Batty Casey?

Not quite yet. All grown up Katy Kidd, the Real McCoy now?

Soon. Then I remembered the arena, the battle. Grays vs. Browns. Slaughter but then Olive Branch extended. Fred and Ethel.

Looks like Batty Casey is the one.

But first a little fun.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0406, Corsica, Southeast^, Storybrook^

children

“She’s *good*, Katy,” states Keith B., listening in on “The Real Me.”

“Call me *Kate*,” Kate McCoy hawed back.

“Alright, Kate. But she’s not as good as my little girl.”

“Oh, just *shut* UP about your little girl. What about ME?”

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Starless

They both stared into the lighted mirror. “*I* think you look great as a redhead, but you do what you wish. You’re the customer.”

“I’ll go with the peppery black, then,” Marty responds to Audrey in his lilting manner of speech. “Unlike the star we’re in… on. I need a change. I need to find a new me.”

Audrey blows out air in resignation. “O-*kay*. We’ll see what this *does* to you.” She leans over and kisses the top of his carrot colored head before starting to suds it away.

—–

She stands back and takes in her handiwork. “Hey lover boy,” she speaks to the new man before her. The mirror’s over *there*.”

They celebrate in the customary way. Audrey had basically forgotten all about deceased hubbie Jeffrie Phillips thanks to Marty’s wicked ways. She’s no longer part of the widow’s club seen at the beginning of section 5. Which leaves only…

—–

“I wonder where my egg — is — NOW?”

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deep end

She tried to decide how to position herself when he entered the store. Should she be staring at the eggs? Away, perhaps at the closed or opened door on the other side? What would be more dramatic? What would be more *correct*?

She’d been rehearsing for weeks. “Formosa,” she declared down to him confidently at another time — perhaps he is sitting on the ground before her in a compliant position — “is a LOST island as well. *I*, Kate McCoy, formerly little Katy Kidd of Benangatron, have decided to *avow* my responsibilities to that supposedly responsible island. I *do not* want to be chained down by Big Government — unable to roam about freely.” She does a couple of rapid model poses to emphasize freedom of motion. In her mind, he stares up, a slave to her every tantalizing move.

Eventually, they would get to the eggs, and the sale thereof. “5000 lindens for *one*,” she spoked firmly. “And I get to choose. They’re all the same magical being but still — my choice.”

“Um,” he uttered rather helplessly, knowing that would about clean out his bank account. How would he eat for the next week? The eggs certainly weren’t food. And who knows what the magical being inside really was. Would it be yet *another* mouth to feed? Still — he felt he had no choice. He nodded, clicking on her and depositing 5000 into her own Our Second Lyfe account. She smiled, but not in a good way. She owned the boy now.

He left with the egg to now unbridled cackling behind him.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0516, Corsica, Egg Hill Sink^

SEAN

On the way back east and the original 9×9, I decided to climb Mt. Valis per June Bug’s suggestion — take in a better view of the land.

Behind me while I sat at the top was the Vale itself from whence I just came. Paradise? It has to be in some way, some fashion, but I’m not ready for it yet — not ready to settle down *anywhere* at the moment. This is the centre, true, but there’s more Pennsylvania-Corsica Prime resonances all around.

I stared ahead, trying to see the location of a shop June Bug spoke about selling eggs. Not just any old eggs but 3 of a kind. “*Not* dragon kind,” she emphasized. But magical beings inside nonetheless.

Place called Eggtown. And the magical being inside? Guy called Phil.

—–

Yes, I was staring at it all along, straight ahead. Eggtown.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0515, Corsica, Egg Hill Sink^

on five fire

Fate and resonance had moved them very quickly further into the elephant’s ear. Paired off they were still, Parasol here with Irish Lass Phyllis Klondike, formerly Phyllis Phox. Then in the background: Kate McCoy, all grown *down* for some reason now, with Audrey [last name deleted — *not* Phillips — I don’t think]. Now all they needed was a DJ to play some appropriate tunes, perhaps for dancing even. Because we have new couples beyond the old. And drumstick makes 5, whatever that f-ing means. I’m having trouble typing tonight I’m so f-ing excited, it seems. For tonight is the time of a Big Reveal, schweet. So first to the picture of the two couples…

Oh, I think I see. Since we’re so close to Denshore here, obviously related to the Danshire sim mentioned toward the beginning of this here photo-novel, then I believe it’s time to introduce another villain into our work called Batty Casey, even though I’m not sure still that this is the Big Reveal of tonight. As Denshore is a one vowel advancement over Danshire in a doubled way (hmmm… just saw Vowel somewhere, probably in the Oracle) so Batty Casey represents a logical step up from Casey One Hole seen there, baseball bat replacing golf club. Play ball! In fact, let’s play two. Ernie Banks.

The sun is beginning to come up. Better move to dialog…

“I *will* revenge my husband Phillip’s death at the hands of that killer Arthur Kill,” spoke Audrey harshly at the front table now to little Katy Kidd, who didn’t really understand what was going on — yet. But she knew the name of Audrey’s husband and it wasn’t Phillip. She makes a note of this while still tapping her little foot to the beat layed down by skillful Casey. Through the empty holes of the Connect Four game situated between them, she saw that Audrey was doing the same with her hand. So infectious. Was this the Big Reveal tonight? That the beat was so infectious to both hand and foot? Moving on…

Parasol knew that Big Black Smoke, the same as Big Black Skome but in a reverse way (again), simply had to be killed at the end of that Dead End Steert (Street) because he was a Mouse, i.e., Rat. 3 eggs, all laid in a row. Infectious. “I want that Gwar,” she demanded to Irish Lass Phyllis Klondike across from her. “I don’t need it, I want it. Give it to me. It is *green*, I mean, *gray*, I mean, RED.”

“Yes it is all those,” spoke Phyllis calmly back. “The green, the gray, the red.” She looked in the direction of Batty Casey and the baseball bat thumping a different tune now, one having to do with a tug of war and a fall into a deep hole to Hell itself and the Devil inside. Is the bat a drumstick? But perhaps that should be Audrey speaking here instead.

“Is the bat a drumstick?” she asked Katy Kidd across the way. Batty Casey kept on thumping, like she was hitting homer after homer after homer.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0506, Corsica, Egg Hill Sink^, Henrietta^

Henrietta

“We’ll have to call this Widow’s Peak after this,” offered still all grown up Kate McCoy (the Real McCoy) to the others sitting around this 4 chair table. Still grieving the death of spouse Jack Snow all the way back at the end of section 1 of this here photo-novel, 18th in the series.

Irish Lass Phyllis Klondike across from her, surname reverted to her maiden one after the death of hubbie Ben Wolf in that newest Bena coup in 2 — *supposed* death — turned around in her seat to look at it. Audrey, the most recent of the widows (husband = just shot Jeffrie Phillips back in Urqhart), followed her gaze. Parasol (wife of The Mann, killed at the end of section 3), didn’t want to look but just pulled a drumstick out of her pocket and began to munch. “Grey matter,” she garbled to the now staring others. “So good.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0504, Corsica, Henrietta^