Tag Archives: Liz^^+++++%%

November 15, 2022 · 1:53 pm

The redshirts are coming the redshirts are coming.

Lt. Ohura here doesn’t count. Wrong sex, although certainly the right one personally to win an all important favor from the Cpt. Car was the eventual outcome, short for Carbon, Ohura’s favorite element next to Potassium. And she didn’t want her son going around being referred to as Pot or Potty, or have his full name contain the word “ass” in it. Carbon it was. Munch didn’t need to know anything about the infant. She hid inside the black hole behind the bar, and him with her. Always from that point on. Carbon Glow Mahoney, a fake last name, as close to baloney as you can get without giving everything away, she felt: her fake life in 1000 Cy. after the U.S.S. Ararat had left the scene, taking the Cpt., Speck, all the remaining red shirts with it, along with the “inferior” females. Ohura, I mean, Liz would eventually loosen their psychological shackles as well, giving them freedoms in the mind along with the body. But first she had to deal with the boy in the harsh glare of city life. Life itself.

“Come on, Carb (as he preferred instead of Car when he reached a certain age), let’s get you to the dentist for that tooth filling party.” She lied and told him he was named after her favorite part of the car — carburetor — which she also liked because it referenced the name “car” itself. She wanted to hide the space part of herself as decorated officer Winnifried Ohura as much as possible; wanted to be absorbed inside the role of bartender/lady of the night Elizabeth Mahoney, a common girl from the proto-ghetto (progo).  Car(r), hmm. I’m starting to know who this actually is, an old old friend of the blog, almost older than time itself. Through him they are able to look into the past and see revolution, robot style. Or 1/2 robot, 1/2 biological, yes. Like Car himself as it turns out. Only 1/2 carbon, see. The other 1/2: car or carburetor. Machine. Yes, I think I’ve about got it. Earth and Space.

She came up with the 1/2 thing analyzing a minion just before she beamed down to her new life, appropriately enough, her last work as a Star Team bioscientist. Fern would be proud, I assume.

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November 15, 2022 · 4:50 am

00350512

“So when you said you disappeared behind the bar, you meant you worked there — behind the bar…”

“… as a black horse, yeah. I’m not ashamed of it (she was). I just didn’t want you to… look down on me.” She could read disappointment in his eyes by now. How to recoup from this? Could she espouse any redeeming qualities without giving too much away? She let him just unwind his theories. Check check check, she assumed.

“Black Horse is not code for Black Hole. Black Horse is more, let’s say, Black Ho, reduced from the obvious. The two go hand in hand, or, in this case, hoof in hoof.”

She made a check mark with her hoof hand.

“You were working for The Void.”

Check mark.

“The same Void that Marilyn had already rejected, the same Void that had her dress up as a white horse before she found the clean and sobered up job at Pink Think here in Gemini.

Check mark.

“You took her place.”

Hesitation, then another check mark.

“Do you keep in contact? I mean, you’re both here, in the same sim. Is it too painful to do this?”

Check mark. This guy is good! Liz thinks. He’s earned all the answers he desires. Not like her regular clientelle, where she doesn’t like to say very much. This was different. This was *clean* fun. Yes, she was having fun, unburdening herself. But she had one big secret stashed away still. George. Keith B. didn’t need to know about The Musician and their true relationship through her parents. George was a bad person and deserved what he got. Same for Albert and Biff, she thought here. For she knew of them as well: the Beastly triad. She knew that much from Marilyn. Yeah, they talk. But only on Mundays they agreed, the hardest day of the week to get in contact with someone. It was a window, tall yet narrow, so much so that they couldn’t see eye to eye. But the exchanges had depth still, black to white. At some junctures it was almost as if they could agree to disagree. It never came to that, but she sensed the possibility. A lost friend, a lost sister even. That could make up for *everything*.

(to be continued)

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November 15, 2022 · 3:20 am

00350511

“So they have no records of you attending the University of Life, which is why most people stay in 1000 City.”

“No need,” she replied. “I knew everything I had to know by that time.”

“So you just broke away from the exploratory team — hid in that darkened alley you mentioned before.”

“I hid behind the bar,” she specified to the questioner. “The black hole. Like I said.”

“You called it a black horse before.”

“Did I?” she said innocently, bracelet sparkling once again. It detected brilliance in its brilliance. Plus a photo was being shot. At us; recorded becomes recorder.

“Why did you send those postcards from the city back to your parents?”

Weary of the grilling, she looked down at the table before answering. Real metal coins! she thought. Hadn’t seen the round stuff in a while. This guy must be lit. “I had to,” she decided to phrase it, encouraged once more. “Because of them.”

“Them who?”

“You know.” She didn’t elaborate. Keith B. obviously though of The Void and the powers that hid there. What little he knew about the place.

“I came to you for answers.”

“You will leave me with more questions,” she shot back. “Trust me.” But she’ll give enough to earn the coin.

“You… didn’t stay here,” he guessed after a pause. “This… Gemini.”

“Of course not. I encapsulate realities. I can go wherever I want through them. Down at the beach. Remember?”

“You engineered all of this,” he then speculated, knowing he was right. Liz was, how you say, a Goddess.

FLASH. The world turned inside out.

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November 13, 2022 · 3:06 pm

00350506

It had snowed in 1000 City the night before they beamed down, but only on the upper level corresponding to the top of its box-like nature. Ouhuru (Liz) had successfully coerced the Cpt. into letting her be part of the exploratory team, joining Speck and a redshirt named Ted, doomed to probably die in this environment. Will a snow tiger jump out from behind a building and maul him to pieces? Abominable snowman tear him apart limb by limb? We’ll see — maybe he’ll survive. But as all Trekkies know, the color red attracts the worst elements of an alien environment, more easily spotted for wannabe troublemakers. You wonder why anyone would dress as such in a potentially dangerous situation. The “seeing red” expression fits in here from the opposite perspective.

“Ouhuru, check on that food while you’re standing over there next to it. I’ll look around the rest of this abandoned coffee shop. Ted, erm, go outside, yes, go outside and see how deep the snow is and what we’re facing in that direction, if we so choose.: So commands commanding officer Speck Ouhuru for the first time and Ted the last.

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November 12, 2022 · 3:58 am

00350504

Speck looks back in time to check through his activated chronosvismach.

“Fascinating.

“The car parked outside the Rhino in Gaston is the same as the one parked outside the 1000 Bar in Gemini here, sir.” He pulls back from the image to face his leader with the news. “The license plates match. It must be George…”

“…driven just that far to find his love of his life. Shelley,” pronounces the Cpt., perhaps Munch perhaps not. Leader of a bunch of children, whatever, in his eyes. Needing his protection, his guidance. Grownups can be children too, he realized long ago, near the start of his academy years when he pulled out a stuck pacifier from the mouth of Major Henley, the big googoo gaga. Speck was just the most advanced of these, beyond him in brains if not decision making abilities and intuitive hunches guided by emotions. That’s what Speck was about to find out (through the cloud). Maybe then he can be the grown-up to fill his huge shoes after his retirement to the planet Splunk. There’s even a name similarity between the two through intermediaries Spuck and Spunk. We’ll get to their stories later, perhaps.

“Send a team down to check on the bar,” continues the Cpt. “See what this George — Musician — is up to; what *lengths* — he’d go to — make it so.”

“Sir,” Speck then said. “If it pleases you I’d like to be part of the party. I want to learn more about these… emotions that so control men of your Earth.”

“And women,” the Cpt. duly noted. “Don’t forget the women.”

“Hysterical, yes. So I’ve heard.” Was this a joke between the two men, Earthling and non-Earthling? Perhaps so. We’ll research later. Whatever, Lt. Ouhuru behind them grimaces, which we happen to know is Shelley’s daughter Liz in disguise, bound and determined to find out about George as well. She’ll finagle her way onto the team too, despite being the wrong sex for the mission. Probably have to sleep with the Cpt. again, pheh.


U.S.S. Ararat over 1000 City

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October 16, 2022 · 2:58 pm

thorns and roses

“Okay, Liz is your kid. I get it. Whether factually or fictionally — doesn’t matter.”

“I am Arthur Kill,” states actor Lemont Sanford beside her, also staring at the “Break the chain” statue by Eva, “but I am also me. We made love in both ways.”

“How do I approach *Liz* with this is what I’m wondering?”

“Tell her we have a common aunt that convinced you to go with me over George — The Musician if you will.”

“Oh, he will,” replies Shelley to this. “I’m kind of sick of the ambiguity.”

“Then tell him.”

“No,” she stands firm. “I’m done with it. The wedding is off. We will get married instead. Just like in the film.”

“What film?”

“Stop it, you know what film.”

“The film of our life?”

She sighs. “We have the same aunt. We are already married in a way, future moved to present. We have a child, 1/2 black and 1/2 white, just like us. *No* ambiguities. We are a couple, a team. I, I mean, *they* brought you back to play Kill van Kull, the sophisticated twin cousin of Arthur. You did swell — too much so, as character became reality, bringing Esther in the picture as well.”

“Act I, scene 7. How could I forget.”

“Cut back to the Inky Man from the Boulder Scene still hiding in the rocks, head in the sand — *cringing* (recoiling) instead of Fred. But it *wasn’t* Chaplin. Instead…”

“Keaton, Buster Keaton,” Arthur, I mean, Lemont finished the thought.

“They were heading for the church. I know where this is now!”

“Let’s go,” he deadpanned. No ambiguities any more. The Cross has spoken.

In this “joke” above, Buster recoils after realizing the potential bride he approached from behind is actually an African-American. Although this joke is overtly racial (one of the few in Keaton’s oeuvre), modern audiences may not realize that at the time it would have been illegal for Buster to marry this woman.

“I’ve watched it over and over,” Shelley says about the scene. “This is overt, *period*; this is a line drawn in the sand. No going back! Save the boulder sequence the rest is trite garbage.”

Lemont Sanford mostly agreed. They’d have to edit, they settled. He had a new role. Let’s begin again; technicolor; picket fences.

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October 11, 2022 · 6:11 am

a number of characters in a number of sims

“So nice here beside the fire. So, whaddaya think, Wheeler? Is Claude on to something?”

“I want to be independent right now.”

—–

So Baker shared some links and let her go. Cloz they were in here, Sporminore and its Roberts and Franklin (and Albert?) just north. Claude to the (Wild) West again, where’s he still under employment at the Umbrella Club where we first ran into Darla and Lois and those other girls, the purple clad one and the other one we haven’t revisited under the umbrella itself. Moray and the now bombed and destroyed Docks Town 2 sims to the east of us. Apples and Etherea — and now Darla and Lois again — about 400 meters southwest in Darter (Ohio parcel). Let’s see, Shelley, yes. Also in Cloz, having escaped the explosion by returning to the Triggerfish Motel. Ah yes, Triggerfish.

But first, Zander. Sorry: Codlet.

But that’s not Shelley on the beach behind the island shack. Liz instead, and we’re not quite ready for her story. Back to Triggerfish…

There. We start again. Apologies. Still no Shelley. That’s The Musician, her fiance, her soon-to-be husband if all goes well for him. Wonder what he’s doing here? Hold on, I’ll have to log Baker back in for this.

Looks like he’s getting at least semi-professional advice about his marriage, his life in general from Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, who we haven’t seen in a while in these here photo-novels, 35 in a series of… well, we’ll see. Let’s listen in.

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September 28, 2022 · 1:43 am

00340703

“Who is it baby doll?”

“It’s the *agency*.”

“Well, keep trying to smile.”

“Hello?” she says. “Yeah, this is him, well, his proxy.” She winks at actor Lemont Sanford, currently unemployed but not caring. They’d made so much on the dog.

A pause as she listens to the other party. Then: “Back? Kill van Kull? I’ll tell him.”

Lemont Sanford, best known for his role as Arthur Kill back there, picks up that there’s no one else on the line. This was all a sham. “Your *synthesized* part is all lined up,” she said, putting away the phone — somewhere. He couldn’t help note the purple again.

10 days later they were back on the set in Middletown getting married to a new wedding theme, someone name Bodenheimer I believe. 10 weeks later the character played by the actress divorced the SOB. But not before something happened, something very important to the future of this blog and attached photo-novels.

In a word: Liz.

END OF “SUNKLANDS PHOTO-NOVEL 34”

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September 27, 2022 · 11:24 am

00340702

She was chopping down the beanstalk as fast as possible with the magic ax she purchased with her soul. Dreaming Shelley came up on her. “What are you *doing*? You’ll *kill* yourself. You’ll kill both of us. Stop it; put down the ax.”

Still-a-kid Liz kept chopping away, whack whack whack. At the 200th swing, the giant plant leading up to the top of the sky began to crack at its base. It was falling. “Look what you’ve done!” screamed Shelley still beside her. The thing unwound in the distance like a collapsed tornado. She woke up.

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September 26, 2022 · 2:23 pm

00340701

“Oh *I* see, Mr. Robot,” she said, standing directly behind him and looking over his bent head. “You drew yourself, see, but you forgot to paint what is in front of yourself. You were too… self centric.”

“Who are you?” the brown mechanoid issued, not liking criticism of his art, however valid it was. “What are you doing here? Where did you come from?”

She realized she didn’t know the answer to any of these.

—–

She was on a raft in the whirlpool now, art come to life. Around and around and around at a dizzying pace she went. She decided to phone a friend.

“Hello. Liz? Can you hear me over the *roar*? I’m in trouble! Come get me at 232, um, 222… dang I can’t remember where I live!” The whirlpool swallows her. She wakes up.

—–

Another dream about the upper levels,” Shelley relayed to Liz later on. “Where I’m grown.”

“I see.” Liz recently felt she needed to put a stop to all that.

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