Tag Archives: Kolya/Pepi/Can^*~~~~~

00270416

Kolya also claimed the larger bamboo house at the very center of the sim owned by the same rental company. 128/128, he thought, standing upon it. This will be *my* center as well. I can finally find myself, see who I am. He looks around.

“Shells? No no no no no. I’m through with shells.” Alysha manifested in the chair below the indicated art, helping him out again.

“You need to focus on the *monster*, Kolya. *Can* — you do this?”

Kolya remembers the name friends call him: Can. This was a friend. They, together, were looking for not necessarily a foe but indeed a fiend, removing one important letter from the equation. He(-she) had been here a long long time; Kolya was picking up on that as well. Black Lake. Circle of 4. He knew that the lakes would attract him, tiny to not so tiny. He must make a map.

“You must make a map,” Alysha spoke back, in his head as well but also with her mouth.

—–

He soon determined that this was the Black Lake in question, not the other more rounded water body just to the west. And it was more symbolic than anything. But he was not in his actual form any longer. He had turned into a painter. Oil me up, I suppose.

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00270415

He placed a call himself: for help. “SOS,” he exclaimed to the girl who was not a girl on the other end, a friend this time instead of a fiend. “I’ll be there at 7 past 11.” She was currently resting against a rock wall, reading a red book and eating a red heart tart for health and good being. She was balanced. Actually it could be either of two girls, Alysha or Billie Jean Kidd. Let’s go with Alysha Billie Jean Kidd Alysha. She packs up her book and heads down to the police station to steal a bike. She tries to put Ruby the green Grey alien out of her head, the matter being out of her hands. “She’ll be fine,” she calms herself. “I can do this one thing without worrying about her. Kolya is important too!” By the time she arrives at the station through the shortcut tunnels a cooler head prevailed and she just takes a rented boat over to the other side of the continent from the 765 Village. Paperweight was the destination, which had strong resonance with Paperville from a couple of photo-novels ago, perhaps 3, maybe 5 back (it was 7).

Kolya was in his thinking chair under the Wasteland sign when she arrived.

“I’m – so – *wasted*, Alysha.”

“No you’re not.”

“You’re so kind.”

“Yes I am. *Now*. Let’s go take a peek inside that Monster Book over there and see what we’re potentially dealing with.”

“Okay.” Kolya had moved away from Saturn and more toward Jupiter. Wendy had been right about cheering effects of the girl.

(to be continued)

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Paperweight

He sat at the table outside the bamboo hut he’d rented several days back and thought about All Orange and what he’d lost. The phone rang (D Flat). The phone never rang.

“Hallo?” He was expecting someone jovial, not saturnine. He was surprised. He stared at the missing blue eye on the Book of Monsters before him as she continued to chatter. He dare not crack the cover lest the other one roll off. Especially now. Would he get a word in edgewise?

—–

She hung up the phone. “We’ve got to keep an eye out on him,” spoke Jeffrie Phillips, glancing over at his bamboo hut across the water. “He may even try to off himself, say.”

“No he won’t.”

Her hair was now the green of seaweed but she was no monster, or at least Jeffrey thought. Was she?

“What next?” he queried about her appearance. “Your skin turns green?”

“Maybe,” she shot back quickly. Both knew that if this happened she was lost for good to him. Maybe even the mohawk would reappear.

Something was happening on this sim. A painter paints. A complainer complains. ART appears. A perfect circle. Pooh with his honey pot moves away from the scene with little to no impact now.

A perfect circle, eh? I thought, yellow included. I knew what this meant.

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00270413

“So as you can see, Billie, we’ve had a bit of excitement in town since you’ve been gone. But it’s all cleaned up now. Your tower scrubbed up nicely. The only thing damaged was a couple of house plants which were dying or dead anyway. And, oh yeah, this is where Kolya had his head damaged.”

“I was wondering where that happened,” she replied in her child’s voice from the chair, this youth that was not young atall. “The encounter with God.”

“We should have never erected that giant golden *cow* in the middle of town, Billie, and you know it. We have been frowned upon.”

“Claudette is there for a reason.”

“*This* reason?” Mr. Babyface questioned, wondering if the idolatry had come to this. Fire.

“God must show himself,” she reckoned. “Or else…”

“… all be damned, yeah I get it.” Mr. Babyface didn’t get it but he didn’t want to seem stupid (again!) in front of the precocious child. So prescient. I’m sure she saw all this coming and that’s why she was away at the time. And she probably also spared me, he rationalized, by organizing that rant rave by my nephew that afternoon. It was all in the book, all in the pattern. The Oracle book and/or pattern.

“How was your comedy show, by the by?” he decided to deviate.

“How was yours?” She knew it wouldn’t be as good. She had chosen the freshest act and left him with the leftovers.

“You know,” he said. “A nephew is a nephew and needs support.”

“Nepotism, yes. I enjoy a Skippy Bittman too but only as an act of an act, a step beyond; meta–.”

Skippy Bittman? “*Anyway*, I suppose you know Marion Star Harding was here as well.”

“I had a feeling.” She didn’t see this! Time was changing again, infinite becoming finite as inflammable separated from flammable. She could see the edge of the plane but not beyond. And the beyond was becoming here, plain and simple. Marion Star Harding. Not since Rose Heaven, for him and Phillip Strevor both. Maybe Phillip is around as well, she rationalized, perhaps down at the church cemetery trying to cover himself up with dirt. It would fit.

(to be continued?)

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planes to see

Marion Star Harding flew over the town, not knowing what he was looking down at. The South. The Opposite. Phillip Strevor instead of Trevor Phillips. And he being the new guy in town, so to speak. And shapeshifter Heidi Hunt Ives or whatever she calls herself these days tagging along as well, controlling each of the paired gangster types in a different way. Good times all around. But now he had more responsibility; was a respected pilot up in the Starfish Lake or Sea area; had a different kind of clientele to deal with. Hole headed Kolya wanted off of this “2” continent back to “1” and he was bound and determined to help him, given the right price. He use to say money wasn’t an option but he’s changed his tune, perhaps changed his key as well away from middle C to a different one, maybe D Flat. A small but significant difference, the same adjectives that apply to the town below as stated in that previous post here. Diminutive yet important.

Uh oh. Running out of gas. He’d forgotten to fuel up at Borneo, the last stop outta here. He’d have to make an emergency landing, but the place appeared to have no landing strip that he could tell. Small — too small now. He’d have to crash into a building to halt forward progress. He donned his inflammable airsuit, thinking it would protect him being fireproof and all. In the same way he use to think infinite and finite meant the same thing. But of course inflammable *does* mean flammable, so when the plane burst into flames upon impact so did he. Filled with pure oxygen it was, with no nitrogen or any other neutral gas anywhere to be found. The abbreviated Kidd Tower, highest in town despite being only 3 stories high in this incarnation, was the unlucky target. Tower resident Mr. Babyface didn’t make it either, nor namesake Billie Jean Kidd. Wait — I’m getting indications that Mr. Babyface was down at the town arena listening to one of his nephew’s rant raves so was spared. Same for Billie — back up in the Lost Angels bar for her, also listening to a comedian but of a much funnier ilk, or that’s what the raucous audience leads us to believe. And Marion Star Harding, then? Spared, because in *this* dimension inflammable actually means flame retardant, as it should in any dimension it exists logically. But as compensation infinite and finite are the same here, which explains why he couldn’t pilot the plane off the, well, plane (of existence). Because the plane is endless.

“Kolya,” he exclaimed upon entering the arena from the crash site, smoking hot. “Forgot about Kolya!” But the damange had been done, with a permanent big 2 in his head. Happy birthday!

(to be continued?)

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00270207

After a night of, ahem, renewing their wedding vows, Wendy and Jeffrie parted ways, he back to Collagesity down in the southern part of the continent and she over to dutifully waiting Kolya just out at the bay of this same fledgling town. Apt. 2 had been put to good use after all but just for 1 day. Wendy stops at this brightly lit citrus fruit shop below where they stayed, studying what appears to be an All Orange, naval down. Lemons and limes on the side, yes, but this was the centerpiece, the center*point*.

But it can’t quite obscure the green plate hung on the wall behind it, acting like a lingering corona for a solar eclipse coming from the cool side this time. Only we the readers have the perspective to ponder what it means, as Wendy isn’t viewing remotely right now, distracted by the trees in the forest. She turns.

And an Oz colored plate! she thinks. I want it! I’ll make Jeffrie come back tonight or the night after that or sometime soon at least and I’ll get him down here to purchase it for me. Real metal! And I want those lemon and lime citrus drinks that go along with it too.

A small earthquake hit the town and the plate starting ringing in a perfect D Flat. Steady Kolya walked in from the bay. “I’ll get it.”

(to be continued)

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so many there to meet

He’d edged into the tall beach grass before he found the shell of his dreams, but it seemed to instead belong to a giant bird of some kind, perhaps an owl.

“I want that shell!” I thought to this owl creature, who I knew could hear in his head like me. “No way!” he thought back. “Mine!”.

He guarded it like an egg, this Probably Owl whose colors matched that of the beach and its many, realistic looking rocks — like camouflage. I asked his name, adding “sir” at the end. “Really?” came the reply. Really. I wondered if this was an owl atall, or at least a male one.

—–

Meanwhile:

The music was close now but it wasn’t coming from this busker, although his playing was perfectly blending into theirs. “Kicked out,” he explained while still strumming. “4th not needed.” Ahh, Jon Deere hates 4ths. Jon Deere must control the band, wherever they are. Must be just around the corner. Was this blues? Mysteriously, she couldn’t tell; psychedelia mixed it, like blue strongly tinged with green, as in this badge decorated Sheriff’s outfit. 420, she realized. Jon’s favorite number. “4:20,” the guitarist before her recited aloud, mirroring what was present in her mind. How?? Just like Kolya, she then realized. We are one here in this town that may become a city that may become a megalopolis, given time. And now she had that too. She didn’t ask the time but she received it anyway.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0204, Nautilus^^, Upper Austra^

blue meanie

We pulled into town right behind the policeman, who, without turning, provided us a notecard about the rules. No children or even teenagers allowed within the city limits. No experimenting with avatars much at all, she feared. And yet, right before her, an apartment that was at the upper limit of their range at 200 per.

They could stay here for a time; disguise themselves as the local. But, yeah (she countered), this wasn’t going to really work long term. She looked down: was even *this* acceptable, this hamburger girl outfit as bazooka toting guardian Dinner Girl sometimes called it? Certainly not very human still, quite cartoonish, and, yeah, disguising the real person underneath, the one *still* married to Santa suit wearing Jeffrie Phillips. She had a feeling camouflage was only going to go so far in this town that Baker B. thought might be the seed of his sought after Middletown. This wasn’t Middletown. But, if not… then why did the Oracle point it out? *Must* be more here.

“Look, Kolya. There’s one of those realistic beaches you like to hunt shells on,” she tossed back like a tasty treat to a trailing toddler. That’ll keep him busy for a spell (she figures) while I try to find the source of that bewitching music in the distance. He may be underaged anyway, or at least his mind is with all the holes in it.

Holes, hmph, she contemplates. Like this town will have in its *mature* form, at least according to Baker. Master Baker? Jon Deere? What happened to his wings, then?

Yeah, just keep turning your head, copper, she thought while passing.

(to be continued)

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halo for horns (4:20)

He sat in the Master House, contemplating how to get from here (Metropolis; pretty nice, pretty big; kinda sensual in an open sort of way) to there (Superduper City; huge/labyrinthian; filled with secret places of full-on sensual desire). He had plans; made paintings even, although he doesn’t really consider himself an artist and has no training in the field. He’s just that excited about the subject; will investigate any avenue of possibilities. The Oracle had revealed his path of destiny, especially in Virginia or thereabouts. Middletown. He had a name. Now he just had to make the megalopolis. He had a beginning, a toehold. But to create a Superduper City he must forge a Superduper Man to be at the heart of all things. He’s working on that as well. He’d sent the bug long ago to effect a weakness, an Achilles Heel. If only he could track down that renegade Martian angel angle that could ruin everything. On it (once more).

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complex

He stood in the middle of 4 sims, looking down at the water. Far Future City, he thinks through his holey head. Metropolis. If only the kryptonite radiated bug hadn’t bitten him he could have seen further, clearer. As it was: an improvement! He might be getting better.

—–

“Snap out of it, bud,” she requested beside me, perhaps also snapping her fingers but perhaps not as well. Choices.

“Hidi,” I answered groggily, as if just waking up, which really didn’t describe the situation but also *didn’t* describe it either. A half and halfer. “Had another vision,” I offered as a partial apology for nodding off. “The music was really good. The music, in fact…”

“Yes?” she prodded, also perhaps nudging me in the ribs, depending on how physical she was in the moment. At least she didn’t slap me at first. I don’t think.

“I’ve… heard it before. It was taking me somewhere else…” I trail off.

Introducing himself to the scene, Deere comes out of the john, but don’t call it that in front of his face.

“Hidi; Kolya; *George*.”

Was I still dreaming? “Slap me,” I said to Hidi.

“Again?”

“Um. Yeah.”

(to be continued)

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