Tag Archives: Leila/Eyela/Rose Wells^^=====$

new bird

“You need perfection. You reach perfection. You pass perfection on the other side. Of course Wheeler Wilson was going to defeat (and assimilate) the new Tina Turner.”

“Tina Louise I believe,” said the fainter voice from the side, another Observer. “Like Mary Ann except beautifuller.”

“All-American still?” the first questioned the second. “Ρùℜ℘Îē?”

“That’s the key,” said the second.

“Heart of the matter,” reworded the first.

Resurrected Arthur Kill had finished retrieving the “Spider” from Tennessee but he was around for good thanks to the mop, with its silliness reinforcing its power. So they — Wheeler and he — decided to form a band, creating an alternate reality where “America the Beautiful” replaced the “Star Spangled Banner” as our country’s great national anthem. First gig: Towerboro or thereabouts, playing to an audience half blue half red. Now to split the two right down the middle, form a third. Wheeler kept wearing purple.

Wheeler kept wearing purple.

Wheeler kept wearing purple.

It worked. St. Francis Scott, the key, was hatched at the beginning of the 5th.


dramatization

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0501, Big Woods, Gold City, Hana Lei^^, Jeogeot, Wendy-Ontario

… on with the show

“Thanks for coming over, Baker Bloch.”

“Zapppa, please. With an extra p please.”

“Sure, sure,” Wheeler responded, a common reply for the generally agreeable gal these days. She’s mellowed over time. She’s comfortable with her power as chief female of the blog and the photo-novels. She can morph into others and still be secure in her identity. Like Eyela. “Anyways, Franklin, eh? What’s that all about??”

“I thought you said there was a picture involved.”

“Keep up, darling. We’ve already talked about that.”

He rubs his bald head some more, eyes the referenced picture again through his blue and red lenses. Spaced Ghost when he was young. The chief male of the blog’s father. Now he’s old. Old old. With a cane. Might have to shift into a wheelchair even soon. Yes, they talked about the picture, Baker Bloch’s father, already. Before the start of this post. On to other subjects. “Franklin, yeah,” he relents, firmly in the present now. “A mystery. Ouroboros.”

“Cradle to grave — in the same place. Accident, some say. Meaningful, others would determine. Like us. Especially…”

“Especially,” he finished for her, “since we didn’t plan it that way. I was just digging up the most relevant grave to our story in that cemetery. The one you directed me to be in. At 32/32.”

“Correct, but Baker Blinker was actually directing that scene, since she’d recovered from her mysterious illness already. Hmmm… mystery again.”

“Donald *predicted* this.” Zapppa points in the direction he thinks Towerboro lies from this central Jeogeot location. “Just up the road here. We could visit him together; ask him some more questions.”

“I was heading back to Big Woods,” Wheeler replied, “but what the heck. Let’s go.” She gets up to leave. “Goodbye Spaced Ghost,” she says while waving at the picture on the wall behind the counter. Zapppa waves weakly as well. They head north not south tonight, then. Unexpected once more. But the unexpected has firmly become the expected, so…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0407, Big Woods, Jeogeot, Midlands, Towerboro

tiger 05 (The Whites look down disapprovingly on their colored neighbors and their doings.)

She halted at the corner of 33rd and Masonic, a stop sign beside her, a stop sign beside it.

“Marsha *Pink* Krakow,” she managed to utter, recognizing her portrait. And then she wasn’t.

—–

Armed with much more knowledge than he had before, Barry De Boy enters the mysterious, run down house.

Deal made. McLain, rival to Gibson, now owns the rights to the 112 (as well?). STOP

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0403, Gold City, Jeogeot

afternoon

She stared and stared but she couldn’t wish a day gone to return. Munday it is, Munday it remains. Like hamster. Her’s should be coming soon.

She overhears some of the conversation from a couple of tables over; her purpose for being here. Something about channeling. Something about triangles.

—–

He walked into Slice, waiting for the mathematician. “Duck, please,” he tried at the counter. “No Duck, chicken,” said the Slice employee, a Mrs. Wiggins I believe. She didn’t even mention the hamster. She knew he wasn’t here for food and had to repel him that way. For emphasis she made the number 5 appear in one of her hands, a sign of non-acceptance or non-compliance. Stop, in other words. We don’t dispense that crap here.

“Barry?” Marsha “Pink” Krakow called over from Eyela’s former seat. She was finished with her hamster and sucking her teeth as inconspicuously as possible. The channeling/triangle couple had gone. She had absorbed again.

“… Mom? What… are you… doing here?”

Well you ordered a mathematician, she thought but didn’t say aloud. She should be at church and he should be at work. But they weren’t.

—-

“I’m just going to check that calculation with my phone, Mom. Hold on…

“Damn.” She’s good! he realized. This could work.

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morning

“Man I can’t even look in your eyes today, you’re so small man. What’ll it be today Mickey Rooney? Duck?”

“Yes please.”

“You better return that cap to the St. Louie Cardinals, bro. Bro man. They’re need’n it for their shortstop, you know what I’m saying, yo?”

“Good… one.”

Gibson reaches into his pocket, pulls a bill out. The special kind belonging to Duck.

“Alright here you go Peewee,” he says while exchanging his own with Barry’s, knowing he always gets a head in a deal.

He moves on. He has no real fear of the larger man-boy similarly wearing a red cap, in his case dipped in the blood of a particularly hated and wounded-if-not-killed rival. He’s been here every day since Munday, that special new day of the week where you simultaneously go to work and go to church at once. Work-church. (S)pray. Barry was a kind of professional graffiti artist, the ones who have an unpronounceable name. Like Spock. He’d head to a particular wall-surface as soon as he made the purchase. 300, he thinks this morning. 300 Triangle. A number anyway. Maybe 112. He’s going to meet up with [delete name] afterwards, a mathematician, to decide. Slice.

—–

“What’ll it be today, Mrs. Gold? Duck?”

“Chicken, I think.” STOP

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0401, Gold City, Jeogeot

Gold City

She was at the house now, or the edge of the hill it stood proud and dominant upon.

She summoned Newt again to take a gander at what she’d found. This was obviously the source of their names. They *were* still married…

… to this town.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0317, Gold City, Jeogeot

00340316

“You’ve found the shower again, congratulations. It’s in the Oracle you know. Chicago.”

“I think you mean Illinois,” I replied. “As in: someone was bad and deserved to be spanked punished.”

“In the circle of the shower with the water on, all is good,” he replied confidently. The person sitting opposite of me. Triangle, I gather. Something about the stabbing of the duck obviously. I am now a resident. How did *that* happen?

“You are not dead,” I decided to say. “You were supposedly killed–”

“Look to the House on the Hill. All revolves around the House on the Hill. Just like before.” The apparition, so solid just a second ago, fades…

—–

She finally got out of the shower and put on some clothes, bound and determined to find the graffiti that would set her free.


“Scuse me, boys.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0316, Gold City, Illinois, Jeogeot

mightier?

She’d left the water in the shower running but it was on purpose: to prove a point. Or, better, to remind her of something. A key, 2nd shower really not needed since no poop is involved.

She was finished with her clients but there was more work to be done tonight before going home bed. Check on the Duck. Because she was about ready to kill someone…

… with writing. “Dear,” she called over to her ex but both still using Gold for a surname. “How do you spell asimilation? With that extra s I’m always mising? Dear oh dear. There I go again!”

“Answered yourself of course,” he responded, not staring up from the folded newspaper. 20 dead in Uptown this year so far. What is Gold City coming to??

“Yes,” she realized. “All I have to do is look down.”

“Or straight ahead…” *sip*

“… if a computer is involved, yes.” Which it wasn’t in this Gold City experience of hers. She preferred pen over keys here. Must be something about running away as fast as possible from the Ebony and the Ivory. Dove’s where it’s at now. She just used it in fact. In the shower. Which she needs to take another of. *No*. She has the key, she reminds herself again, still writing, still scribbling sideways across the yellowing paper, perhaps parchment. *Barry* is the one. He needs the shower. But where is Barry?

Still scribbling, still writing.

Newt sets the paper down. He’s had enough bad. Now for good. “I’m glad I found you again Eyela. Just mised you in the church, ha.”

She looked down, emitted a small laugh as well. Good one, Newt. Then she took the pen and struck out that sentence. Then another, and another until the whole paper was full of lines. Newt was gone. Newt, her ex, perhaps even still her husband since she’s reverted back to Eyela and/or they still share the same last name, was never here. Or else he left earlier. She writes alone.

Later she sits in bed staring at the sword, wondering how to turn it back into a pen. Looks like actual killing is in order if she doesn’t succeed with this.

Because the Duck is right beside her.

“Paul?”

“Yes?” he quacked.

“I think… it’s… time…” STAB

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0315, Chilbo^, Gold City, Jeogeot

(s)pray

Marsha “Pink” Krakow was praying in a Mid-town church. Newt just missed her. “God bless Mama, rest her soul. And Dada. And most of all my little boy all grown up and playing with fire now. Help him not manifest the Duck any longer.”

Fat chance, he thinks simultaneously while spraying in Southside.

She releases the doves from the steeple, hoping one would poop the truth on him, just like with her.

Here he or she comes!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0313, Gold City, Jeogeot

meaningful names

Newt walks down 64th exactly aligned with longitude 64 in the sim. He’s just done the same in Big Woods sans a road to follow, trying to also figure out the lay of the land there. *There* has shifted to here. Witness the Duck in the background (!).

Wall of purest Green ahead. And that confounded gold tipped pyramid. How did Eyela know it would be here??

Now to find her, Newt thinks. Could have shifted shapes already, exchanging old for new. Very likely, given her history.

There’s also some clear indication that an association exists between this new town, this Gold City as I call it derivatively, and NWES City on the west side of the continent — opposite coast.

Remember NWES City and *its* Applewood? Primary setting for photo-novel 22, perhaps the best of the lot, or at least most profoundly, um, balanced front to back (unless it’s 25, 19, 16, 13, 10, 7, 4 or 1 in the series). We also saw Marsha “Pink” Krakow in that one, along with her boy Barry. Applewood (sim) is most prominently featured, though, in section 1 of photo-novel 16, which matches a NWES City narrative to one created in Nautilus’ Collagesity (when it existed), or, more precisely, a NWES City narrative unfolded in sections 1, 3, 5 *balanced* (that word again) by a Collagesity narrative existing in sections 2, 4, and 6 to complete. In photo-novel 22, as it happens, Collagesity has, in essence, *merged* with NWES City (briefly) to form a synthesis of inner/personal and outer/general, the goal of my journeys since the failure of same back in photo-novel 4 when I tried it with (what I call again) VHC City.

Is Newt thinking some of these same thoughts about past photo-novels as he continues to explore Gold City, advertised by the owner as the *second* largest city of the Jeogeot continent? Probably. Can you guess the largest? I think you can.

One more note here. The rent is significantly higher in Gold City than NWES City, which I would assume makes it more difficult to flesh out a story like I did with the latter. Right now I’m working along the lines that the name Applewood here is planted on purpose in its honor. Add in my efforts past and present, and we may have some kind of overall Jeogeot mythology forming from the aether.

At the midway point up in the sim, Newt turns left from 64th onto Southbridge, hoping to get more answers tonight.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0312, Gold City, Jeogeot