Tag Archives: LIMB

another visitor

“Aahh, found it. This must be the portal.” A squeaking occurred. Rules of Rose looked around for a mouse. Then she remembered Norris. Just outside. He was speaking in his high register way. She adjusted for the tone, understood what was being said. He was asking about the portal.

“Just found!” she shouted through the window pane, painfully confusing in the double transparency with the Live Oak tree limb. “Why don’t you —” She was going to ask why didn’t he come in and see for himself. Then she remembered the rule. The rule *she* imposed, after all. No entering private residences by the wee’s. But *she* was here. She had that right — another rule. “Here.” She angled the laptop toward the window. “Can you see it now?” She understood that Norris requested she hold it in her hands up to the window. “Now how am I going to *type* on it if I’m *holding* it?” she inquired, staring out at him with a grimace. She edged the laptop a little closer — it was in danger now of falling off the side of the table if care wasn’t taken. Which it will be. Rules of Rose was always careful when entering residences, a seldom used loophole. But this was a special case. She had to find a certain object or thing inside the portal, which was the game in front of her, she realized. Gunn Mobile Trailer Park: Your Darkness. The gunn itself?

You may remember Rules of Rose as Blue Berry Girl from the last photo-novel, in disguise for the sake of a plot. She’s usually in disguise. This time ’round she gave her purple color to the bear.

Half an hour until the 1st service held at neighboring St. Merry’s Church ends and Herbert Gold returns to his new home. Probably not enough time to find the needed object. She’ll have to come back. Might as well end now….

—–

An object appeared in the middle of St. Merry’s church out of nowhere. Many parishioners later reported that they heard a *plop*, as if it fell from the sky.

Herbert Gold recognized what it was but said nothing.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0116, Alabama, Rose Heaven^^

point

I was putting up birdhouses today on my new property, too lazy to even change out of my Purple (and) Bear costume. Maybe that *was* my identity here, though. *I* am the Purple (and) Bear. Perhaps I own both this place (Sanctuary Point, after the sim plus the location description) and the old quarry. Or maybe the old quarry is where I come from. In the past. Where the mist got me. Maybe mist with a “y”; maybe capitalized but maybe not. Maybe the mist doesn’t like you capitalizing it in writing. Maybe it exacts its toll even a bit more if you do so. I must be careful. But yet — what could be wronger than the curse I’m presently under! A purple bear! Banished from my circle of friends. Confined to an old quarry and, now, a neighboring peninsular point far far away from a societal center. It’s out here away from the capital that Rosehaven’s *myst*eries are fully revealed; uncloaked. I must be vigilant for more changes.

“Hello!”

The piping voice, sounding of helium, was far far away yet somehow quite near. I looked around — no one here.

“Hell-o, hell-oooo!”

I then spotted him in the giant live oak tree, the centerpiece of the property actually. Beside the birdhouse I had just set up on one of its massive, sprawling limbs.

“Hel-loo!”

It took him a short while to start forming actual sentences and just stop chirping greetings (maybe the creature was part bird?) but I eventually got out that he thought the house he sat beside was too small for his needs. Or the rest of his clan. The wee ones.

The next time he showed up he brought along architectural drawings. Turns out this was his land as well as mine, or so he claimed.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0111, Rose Heaven^^

pause 02

Dr. Nightwing had traversed the whole of Okemo Gorge many times now. But the so-called Murderkiller hadn’t struck again in several weeks, November 27th to be exact. He was sure the perpetrator would employ the deepest and longest canyon in Snowlands for body dumpings sometime, perhaps as part of a climactic spree of some kind. But how to police it all? Luckily there was the ONSR (Okemo, Nakiska, and Southern Railway) running through its center.

12 stops existed along the railroad, almost the same number of murders already perpetrated by the Murderkiller in Snowlands (13). He understands 12 shouldn’t be forced into 13 so easily, but can’t help himself. And certainly the 13th and last is being highlighted through various, recently exposed details. On *this side* that would be Schism Santa, torn limb from limb by the rogue yeti on a lake isle in Schism and then deposited in the gorge running from the lake to the Southern Sea. How many body parts were found? He recalls 7 — he’ll keep that in mind. But his ruminations keep coming back to that island for a particular reason.

And he must always hold in mind that the killer yeti is in all likelihood merely an outward disguise for something far more villainous and conniving. He knows this through Audrey; he’s learn to trust her intuition. “This is *not* a yeti rampage,” is one of her recent mantras on the subject. “Yetis do not kill 13 beloved Christmas figures over here, then go over there and murder the same amount. This is the work of a mastermind.” In fact, it was Audrey who coined the name Murderkiller. 13 killed over here, you see, then 13 murdered over there. She lists all the names out in that direction: 12 young women on The Cross, with the 11th and 12th begin Ruby and Indigo (as previously illuminated). But the 13th? Also a man in that case, she’s determined from all the evidence. One Duncan Avocado, an escaped slave from the southern part of the Omega continent — Dixie it is slangly called by some, after a similar splinter nation off the old United States of America that was dissolved in the 2030s, he believed; 2036 comes to mind (the United States, not Dixie). But then the topper: Audrey also uncovered a lake island in connection with *his* death. 13th mirrors 13th in that respect. What could it mean? They’ve had long conversions on the subject the last several evenings, sandwiched around their most popular of nighttime activities. His back remains a little sore today.

He can’t follow all the Omega continent leads and patrol the Okemo Canyon at the same time — his *own* hunch for the location of 12 or 13 *more* killings to come. He realizes he must have a confederate — a *companion*. Audrey is a logical choice, what with her brilliance of mind. But there’s also the muted Mystic Girl to consider. Hmmm. Maybe both? he then realizes. He can have more than one companion at a time. Nothing in the Cosmic Rulebook he plays by states otherwise; he’s checked the related sections many times now. But here’s the problem: these would be his 12th and 13th companions overall, if so. He dare not put a lady in the target of a ruthless killer by slapping a number 13 on her back side. However, he also most definitely needs a 12th. So — bottom line (he decides) — he needs to choose. This would be his right hand person to his left hand working over here.

—–

“I just want to pause here again,” says Indigo to the quickly scribbling Ruby on her right. “So that’s 13 *killings* in… Snowlands. Then 13 *murders* on the Omega continent and its cross.”

“*The* Cross,” chips in Ragdoll across from her.

“Yes. And then 12 or 13 more in the Okemo Canyon? Is this what Dr. Nightwing has projected? Or maybe sees in the future?”

Ruby gnaws on the eraser of the pencil while thinking. “No,” she decides. “We don’t have time to open another can of worms like that in the current novel journal.” She begins to erase the related line. “Let’s… leave it that Dr. Nightwing is puzzling over the similarities of the 13th killings in each direction while patrolling the Okemo Canyon.” She wipes away the eraser shards. “We don’t have to go into detail about what he’s doing there.”

“We don’t?” queries young Ragdoll, eyes alert with surprise, then relaxed. “I do like the idea of the Murderkiller. And the Killen Ponds.”

“Killen Ponds?” exclaim Ruby and Indigo as one. Where did *that* come from?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0615, Purden/Snowlands^, Rubi^

treed

Marion Harding sometimes went back to Unity Pond where the breakdowns were first noted. No sign of them today, however. Maybe they went away? Doubtful, though, he then realized, taking a last toke before throwing away the remainder of his joint into the murky waters. The aberrations would return.

He had smoked enough. Time to meet Golden Joe in the tree.

—–

“Rubles. Barney Rubles,” the golden head answered to Marion Harding’s first question in his deep, ghetto voice, which was: “What do I do with the ring, the core?” Maybe he didn’t phrase it succinctly enough (even though he did). He tried again, simpler this time. “Why am I here?” Golden Joe sprouted closer to him out of the tree limb so that he could look directly into Marion’s eyes. “Let’s talk more face to face, man. Marion Man.”

—–

Golden Joe winked out again. The tree changed. Marion could feel the energy elevate all around him. He stood up to take in the panorama. Various types of different, colorful plants had sprung out of its limbs now.

Marion felt he was home. Home at last. Not the fishing shack over in Horizons-Spica. But here. He must remember this feeling later, he said to himself. Don’t forget. Don’t forget.

He walked down the limb he was on into one of the tree’s main joints. A patio appeared to his left, connected to it by a long, descending ramp. All was translucent green crystal.

Someone called. “Marion, I’m down here, bud!” Distinctly the voice of Golden Joe again, but more feminine and less Godly and booming. Matching more the full name of the, er, character, he realized: Josephine.

Lured by the summon, Marion headed downward. He’d have to also remember the blend of pot he was smoking today, a weaving he called it while improvising the mix. Good work me!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0510, Capitol City^, Gaeta V^^

can’t wait

The Musician was carefully cleaning his new cyborg body parts in the glimmering cave pool when Wheeler sprinted into the room. “No time for that, punk, we’ve been found out!”

But he didn’t immediately jump into action. “What are you on about *now*?” he asked while continuing to wash his left arm. In truth, he was still pissed at Wheeler for not appreciating Jimmy’s solution to the stigmata problem. True, it was kind of trading one set of stigmata for another. But at least he wouldn’t keep waking up in a blood soaked bed.

Speaking of which: “Pull out our beds!” the now stationary Wheeler called from the bank. “The ones sent by Jacob. Hurry!”

The Musician kept cool and switched cybernetic arms to bathe.  “Jacob? I’m not sure… oh, right, the *collage*. The one with the two beds. Well… he said he’d give it to us but was still searching for the base image, the one with no beds. He warned us not to use the current one, just to study it. Is that the beds you’re talking about, Wheeler?”

“You know they are,” she huffed, folding her arms and impatiently stamping her left foot on the cave floor. “And its in *your* inventory. He gave it to you and not me for some reason.” She anxiously looked toward the room entrace from whence she came. “I think I hear footsteps. Jimmy.”

“Jimmy?” queried The Musician, now washing between his real fingers. “What’s he got to do with all this?”

“Again… *no time.* Pull out the picture. I *demand* it.”

“I’m not going to do that, Wheeler. Jacob said to wait.”

Wheeler huffed some more and looked again toward the cave passage leading to this room. “Oooh, *please* Musician. I’m *sorry* I didn’t like your new, metallic limbs and belly. I’m *sorry* I didn’t appreciate the teeth. New things take time,” She glanced again at the room entrance for emphasis. “Which we have *little of*.”

“Alright,” The Musician finally acquiesced, moving toward her through the shallow water. “Good thing all these new workings are titanium and not steel. We’d be here an additional 15 minutes with me drying!”

As soon as he reached the bank, Wheeler clasped his hand and started running again. While being dragged along to the end of their vacation, in effect, he looked through his inventory and found the collage.

“We’re here, Musician,” Wheeler said, catching her breath again at the doorway to the last room. The final cave room. “Now… *rezz the beds*.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0208, Comfrey, Gaeta V^^