Tag Archives: Mabel^^+

January 22, 2017 · 7:22 am

most likely probably still

9:30 pm.

“The usual please, Furry Karl.”

“Coming right up, Baker Bloch.” Karl reaches into the cooler behind him a pulls out a tall can of Krings, popping it open and positioning it on the counter. Baker partakes.

“Ahh, good beer after a long hard day of work, eh Karl?”

“I suppose. I don’t drink myself.”

“Oh right,” says the male Baker. “The farming incident.”

“And the prostitutes. And killing that guy over in Bennington… besides all the other stuff done there.”

“Well, that’s all red liquid under the bridge for you Furry Karl. Clean sweep in this here Collagesity. New beginnings. Here’s to new beginnings.” He raises his beer.

“I can’t toast with you, but I’ll second that anyway. Listen, um, Baker. I can’t really talk much tonight. As you can see (Furry Karl looks around), the bar’s pretty busy.”

“I noticed that. Demon Days.”

“Yup. Gates of hell opened wide this weekend.”

Baker Bloch also looks around. “None in here at the moment I can spot, though.”

“Oh, they’ve been here. The mall’s been invested with them. Especially the Santas. I’ve counted at least 3. So… enjoy yourself here. Drinking alone tonight?” Furry Karl tacks on.

“No. Old Mabel will be joining me. We’re going to talk about her new living quarters — Spongebub’s former home.”

“Good, good.” A bald headed demon enters the bar and sits down at the last stool; starts to play computer cards as both Furry Karl and Baker try not to stare. “Okay, gotta run,” Karl says, moving toward him.

—–

11:15 pm.

“I’m sorry once more I’m so late, Mr. Bloch. It’s just that Unch was there (!). I could see him finally. And from that perch on the southwest corner.”

“Next to Perch, yeah you told me.”

“Sorry.” Old Mabel realized that she was repeating herself in the excitement. “I dare not fully approach him yet. It is a him, correct?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Baker responds. “I’m not sure he’s — or she’s — anything. Like the typical plant, I suppose. Minus ferns?”

“Mosses, maybe,” Old Mabel offers. “I’m still getting familiar with terra firma flora and fauna.”

“Right. You should have been here earlier, Old Mabel. Place was jumping. I think Furry Karl will be alright in this new location. It’s just so… in the middle of things.”

“Malls are special places,” agreed Old Mabel, taking a sip of her lemonade. “Well lighted. You can accidentally bump into your friends and neighbors without having to telephone them up.”

“Good point,” agrees Baker. “You get the social niceties out of the way without a social commitment.”

“I’m learning your ways.” Old Mabel smiles at him, studying his rugged orange face and dead white eyes. Yes, he’s still most likely the one, she thinks. Despite demon Jiff offering to change over his body to a larger and greener variety. Despite Snowbob and the day before yesterday. In the closet.

—–

1:00 am.

“You’re so strange, having to sit with your back to the wall if anyone else is in a room with you.”

“One demon left around,” Baker Bloch whispers to Baker Blinker. “And it has to be here.” The small cyan demon squeaks in return — good ears on this one.

“Good that Old Mabel is getting adjusted. Maybe now she can get over this dislike of Wheeler, since she’s getting over, well, *you*.”

“I don’t think she likes Wheeler impersonating me at times,” Bloch agrees.

Baker Blinker sighs. “So where does that put *us*?”

“Same ol’ same ol'” the male Bake responds. “We are the parents of all that’s around us.” He waves his arm.

“I don’t think Karoz is coming back,” Baker Blinker says, tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Oh sure he is,” Baker Bloch attempts to comfort. “Wheeler’s probably sent him off on some crazy assignment to retrieve an ancient diary again.”

“She’s still looking for Number One, yes,” a sniffing Baker Blinker agrees, taking a sip of coffee with a shaky hand. “Muff-Bermingham was a bust. Plus the war started while we were there. Greens versus Grays. The one Little is involved in. A shame Old Mabel hasn’t heard a thing from him since he left.”

“Hasn’t she?” The male Baker eyes the female Baker knowingly.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0303, Heterocera, Rubi

Tagged as Baker Blinker^^++@, Baker Bloch^*++@, Karl^*+$, KRINGS, Mabel^^+, Old Reader^*~!

January 21, 2017 · 8:14 am

Old Mabel’s Plans

Old Mabel finally spots Unch at position 168/168 in the woods, but keeps her distance for now.

Using remote viewing, she dares to take a few close up shots. Amazing how the foliage of Unch and that neighboring brown cypress are so intertwined, Old Mabel thinks. They must be kindred souls.

Now that Spongebub, Snowmanster, and son Snowbob have left the scene, she’s becoming more and more attracted to their former home. Both Baker Bloch and Baker Blinker are encouraging Old Mabel to stay there if she wishes, but warn that she’ll basically have to take the place and its dated ways as is, since no objects can be rezzed on the property or dragged in from town. The advantages for Old Mabel are obvious, however. There’s, of course, the proximity to Collagesity in both a southern and eastern direction…

… then there’s the forest directly to the west.

Tonight she finds she can even just spot Unch from this perch at the parcel’s southwest corner. How exciting! she thinks.

The southern end of the Great Wall lies just north. Old Mabel wishes to explore its secret triangular passages mapped out by Baker Bloch a number of years ago.

And Carrcassonee in her Temple of TILE is next door as well. That’s another project Old Mabel wants to tackle: how to reopen decent communication lines with the town’s former chief deity.

She sits at what could be her writing and planning desk, wondering what to do with it. I’m sure she’ll come up with something.

Upstairs: the “closet” Snowmanster emerged from 2 days back.

Yes this could do very nicely, she thinks. Very nicely indeed.

“Oh my Goodness!” she says, looking at the time.

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Tagged as Mabel^^+, Unch^^^*#

January 20, 2017 · 5:57 am

Double Trouble

Old Mabel was confused. She set out much earlier tonight to track down a sighting of Keat Owens in Sansara’s Langdale sim, but this *twin* claimed never to have visited or even hear of Collagesity. Old Mabel asked his name. “Pety” returned the person. Obviously not Keat Owens, then. While in the hotel room he inhabited Old Mabel looked around for further clues about what was going on. A blue feather pen attracted her attention, but she was on the wrong path now. Pety also mentioned something about a thimble thief. Old Mabel will do more research on that.

Meanwhile, back in Collagesity the *real* Keat Owens was in a world of trouble. The double hand situation was intensifying. Owens sensed the end of his existence in the town. He wanted to know what hell Jerome T. Newton sprang from. He had that right. He stared at SoSo South’s Newton 10 collage and its central image. This *was* Jerome T. Newton. But how?

Death stalked the chef/inspector. Newton summoned.

“Did you get the information I requested?” Owens had not; he felt the truth slipping away near the beginning of his meeting with Spongebub.

“The square yellow man has accomplished what he needed to do here,” Owens spoke from his heart. “His wife is saved. It is too late for our kind. *Their* truth will get out.”

“Fool!!” Newton screeched, and the burning commenced. It was over in 30 seconds tops. All that was left in the end were his true hands, ash gray and turned to stone. The Truth Hands.

They remained in that very spot for many years to come.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0218, Heterocera, Rubi

Tagged as Chef/Inspector Petty^*++!, Jerome T. Newton^*, Mabel^^+

January 19, 2017 · 10:49 am

Askja again

Old Mabel couldn’t stay away from Corsica and its mysterious Askja. Shortly before dawn again, she arrived at the scene of the crime and, 1) purchased a drink from the now working Neurolab vending machine, 2) accidentally reset a chess game that had manifested on the table Snowmanster was last seen at, and, 3) bought an advertised collection of thimbles from the motel next door.

Next she found a parcel called “Giants at the Door Band”, not far from the center of the sim where a *giant* (i.e., Brenda) had arrived just days before and helped opened a door or window or something into the room where Snowmanster apparently burned to death. She enjoyed their green and yellow beanstalk ride while there, which shot her up about 120 meters to a cloud with no giant atall inside. Still quite fun, and, besides, she knew who the *real* giant was, even if said giant didn’t know who *she* was any longer. A very strange turn, but one of many currently going down in Collagesity now. Here’s the Giants at the Door band’s facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/giantsatyourdoor/

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0217, Comma Islands, Corsica

Tagged as BEANSTALK, Mabel^^+

January 18, 2017 · 7:35 am

Brenda 02

(continued from)

“My legs are ~~jello~~ gelatin,” Brenda said in her rather booming voice to the approaching Old Mabel, coming from the direction of SoSo. “I’m not the athlete I use to be. Difficult to train now with all these structures surrounding the woods. Before I had The Freedom.”

Old Mabel had reached the giant female warrior by now.

“Wow. Your legs are really going crazy there. Maybe you better stop today. Try again tomorrow.” The Martian wondered how long she’d been at it. Hours?

“No, I’m giving up — giving back Spongebub his money. That old lighthouse isn’t going to budge,” she gauged, looking over her shoulder and then back down at her quivering limbs. “Been sitting there in that one position too long, all crooked and such. Rooted in the ground it is, like a demented tree. Now if we had an *Unch* lighthouse, well, things would be different. Unch has it right. Have you met him?”

Old Mabel realized she hadn’t attempted to locate Unch in the forest at night, an oversight. Daytime was no good for that. But so much going on right now in Collagesity and elsewhere!

“The intelligence of paper, the mobility of scissors, the persistence of rock. Best qualities of each rolled into one super-being. Unch,” she said again.

“Well, I’ll have to make a concerted effort to meet this — God-like entity.”

“Yes,” said Brenda. “God-*like*. But you’re not here to talk about trees.”

“No,” admitted Old Mabel.

The giant stood up, testing her legs. Chilly night had swiftly moved in. Both looked up at the tilted lighthouse and its lit window.

“Where should we go?” Brenda then asked Old Mabel. “Hard for me to fit in places, let alone act in secrecy.”

“Well, it’s nighttime now,” offered Old Mabel. “Why don’t we go see Unch(!)”

“That blabbermouth?” the giant then said, taking the Martian by surprise with this turn. “No, not Unch. Not the forest. Or — wait. How about the other side of the forest. Away from Unch. That abandoned cottage and grounds.” She rubbed her giant chin thoughtfully. “Yes, that will do. Why hadn’t I thought of that before. We can head up Robin Lane then move south through its western edge.”

“Or we could just teleport.”

“Even better.”

—–

“Yes, this is good. The wall is just high enough to keep me hidden. I will make this my place now, if it isn’t already. Yes, I’m remembering backwards now. This is already my home. This is where I live. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” said Old Mabel, trying to figure out the giant’s backward talk.

“This is where Jiff and I live as husband and wife. I was his servant, his prisoner on the Ryan Industries vessel. No, his fellow prisoner. And we are not husband and wife…” Brenda paused, trying to sort out the correct timelines. “Play a game with me, alien woman,” she then said. “Roshambo.” Old Mabel stated that she had not heard of it, prompting Brenda to explain. “We go 1,2, and at 3 we both make a hand signal. There are 3.” Brenda demonstrated the three hand gestures involved in the game to Old Mabel. They played.

The correct reality manifested around them now. This was Brenda’s cottage, just like Snowbob had his own house on the other side of the woods, in Collagesity. Things were sorting out. Good ol’ roshambo!

One problem, though. “Who are you?” a comfortably reclining Brenda asked of the approaching Old Mabel.

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Tagged as Brenda^^, Mabel^^+

January 17, 2017 · 9:26 am

She has a name:

Old Mabel had trouble getting to sleep. She kept thinking of poor Snowmanster and Spongebub and Snowbob. She decided to teleport back to the room where it happened. She simply typed “Ask” to find the location. Interesting.

“That woman over there must have seen it all,” she says while within. “Ma’am, are you alive?” No answer.

“What’s she staring at?” Old Mabel moved her camera angle behind the slut’s head.

“The drink machine? Hmmm, no drinks within.”

Then it dawned on Old Mabel as the sun sphere touched the horizon. Opening!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0212, Comma Islands, Corsica, Heterocera, Rubi

Tagged as COKE, Coke Head^*~~~, Mabel^^+, MELON/TRIANGLE, NODAL, OCTOPUS, OPENING, Slut01, Snowmanster^^#

January 17, 2017 · 12:02 am

Bogota 08?

“It’s a shame about Snowbob’s mother. Surely he knows, along with the father.”

“They know that she’s on assignment in Corsica, Old Mabel, and something has happened. Mr. Owens just came from Corsica and the sim in question.”

“I did. I just got information that I may not be returning,” spoke the chef/detective. “The filly I was tailing got wind of my investigation and set sail in the middle of the night. I may be staying here a bit longer than I planned. But the new mystery has got its claws in me now. It’s that book.” He pulled the stained slip of paper out of his pocket and opened it in Baker Bloch’s direction. “Pill,” he repeated. Baker Bloch could clearly see the word. It was the third time he had shown it to him. Yes, his interest was certainly piqued. “In the wine,” he added. “Wine,” he emphasized.

“Yeah, we’ve known something odd was going on (in that direction) for a long, long time Mr. Owens — Kenny. I might as well start calling you Kenny since you may be staying with us a while. The main question for now is: why did the giant female show up in the middle of the sim in question and play a game of roshambo with the tiny Minoan who is now Old Mabel’s good friend? Then why did that somehow open up a door or window or something into the place beside the motel you were staying in and allow (us) a glimpse into the firey death of Snowbob’s poor mother caused by this Jerome fellow? Who is Jerome T. Newton? He’s obviously a killer. Then there’s the burnt-to-a-crisp cow across Robin Lane.”

“I’ll talk with the giant,” said Old Mabel, sitting on the floor between the two and still staring up at the newest Bogota collage, at its central Snowmanster and what might have been. Christmas. “She’s got a name, by the way: Brenda. Jiff — the tiny Minoan you speak of — and Brenda are friends.” More than friends she almost said, but decided not to reveal that whole story yet. So big and so small. How does that work? she asked herself yet again.

Kenny yawned and stretched his arms. “I guess I better head back over to Collagesity North and get some shut eye now; have to get up early for the interviews with Snowbob and his father. ‘Preciate you showing me around the galleries tonight. Weird I’m in them. I know more. I must digest.”

Goodnights all around after that, with Baker Bloch and Old Mabel remaining in front of the newly hung Bogota 08 as Kenny teleports downstairs.

“He knows too much,” said Baker to the Martian.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0209, Bogota, collages 2d, Cricket, Heterocera, Rubi

Tagged as Baker Bloch^*++@, Chef/Inspector Petty^*++!, Cookie The Crumbler, Mabel^^+, Patrick Starr^^^*, Santa God^*$, Snowbob^*=====, Snowmanster^^#, Spongebub^*+$, Spore^*~~~$

January 16, 2017 · 9:15 am

Red Read

“Father, when will mother be joining us?” asked Snowbob the man-child.

“Corsica,” indicated the father. “Corsica, Corsica, Corsica!”

“She’s not going to be here anytime soon. Is she?” The father doesn’t answer this time. Both stare blankly into space.

Snowbob is beginning to theorized his family won’t be staying in Collagesity long. The house payment hasn’t gone through yet. Their furniture is still in storage. Even though he manged to get the main gate to the property open yesterday, there was still some kind of invisible barrier that he had to jump over to come inside — a sign. And his father’s skin had turned from yellow to green. A mysterious malady, because he seems perfectly normal. But Snowbob keeps recheckeding his father’s outfit list behind him. Always green skin instead of the previous yellow. Yellow is missing. Yellow is missing!

—–

I’ve got to solve this case so I can get out of here! thought Owens, wearing the mantle of private detective now.

Tired of staring at roshambo images, he sat down at The Table and enjoyed more leftover wine from the diner. By this time he was drinking straight from the bottle. “Reading anything interesting?” he asked Curled Paper across from him, trying to start up a conversation once more. “‘Winesap’? Sounds intriguing.” But Curled Paper still said nothing (his light was off). Paper, he then thought. Curled Paper. Another clue?

“I wonder where The Librarian went?” he tried again. “He always seems to be here, sitting.”

“Bathroom break, let’s say,” then uttered Tin S. Man in his low voice from the left. “It takes him a while.” Owens had forgotten the metal being was alive. Someone to talk to while he drinks. Nice!

“Well, er… what do I call you?” He squinted up at the giant’s kind face.

“Tin S., please. Like the game. Like the sport. It’s always love something for me. My ego and aggression are always zeroed out.”

“Well that’s fascinating, Tin S.,” Owens spoke while taking another sip of wine from his bottle. “So rude,” he then said of himself, lifting the bottle toward Tin S. Man. “Want any?”

“I cannot drink wine, only oil. Wine makes me tipsy. When I fall down, I cannot get up because of my massive weight. Only oil please. Do you have a bottle of oil?”

“Not on me, no. Maybe later. Listen, Tin. S., how did you get here? I mean, why are you at The Table along with the others? Old Mabel mentioned you were a famous musician inside that outer casing. Dave something. Davis?”

“Davies,” corrected Tin S. Man. “That is a true inner form, yes.” He paused.

“What’s the purpose of all this?”

Tin S. Man moved his joints slightly, then asked a question back: “What do you know of our user?”

“I know that Baker Bloch is the main channel for the user who goes by the same name.”

“Baker B., close enough,” said Tin S. Man.

“And… um, I guess The Table, as far as I understand, represents a gathering of variants, mainly musicians like yourself, who have, er, *donated* their work to a greater whole. This Table.” He then knocks on The Table to reinforce his answer.

“Are you staying in town long enough to attend the next Table meeting?” asked Tin S. Man.

“I *hope* not,” returned Owens. He needed to get back to the roshambo images. Something about that yellow hand. Paper. Switch. He pulled the little, wine stained slip of paper from his coat pocket and read it again. This is the one found in Baker Bloch’s own wine. “Pill” is all it said.

“Reading anything interesting?” The giant smiles.

—–

Meanwhile, over at the Red Umbrella…

“That’s him alright. Owens.”

“And over in Boos as well,” added Old Mabel.

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Tagged as Baker Bloch^*++@, Chef/Inspector Petty^*++!, Curled Paper/Gordie Down^^+~!#, Mabel^^+, PULL IT OUT, Snowbob^*=====, Spongebub^*+$, The Librarian^*+~!, Tin S. Man/ Dr. Blood^*#$

January 12, 2017 · 7:40 am

S. is for Soldier

Old Mabel had pulled in a suave chair from the patio of the Perch restaurant next door to become friendlier with Tin S. Man, who turned out to be a fount of knowledge once you got him to open up (heart exposed).

“All those Lower Minoans were celebrating the chopping of what they thought was the forest’s last tree,” he continued, “a brown cypress which now stands proudly again right beside Unch. They were gathered in the center of Lucky at sunset, hooting and hollering and carrying on, when the suddenly descended 200th whopped down terror from the skies with his thick, deadly cluster of limbs and leaves. Everyone dead, like ants under heel. Whop, whop, whop!” he emphasized, holding his axe high, blade outward.

“Fascinating,” said Old Mabel, carefully watching the axe. “When did you yourself arrive in the forest?”

Tin S. Man lowered his weapon again. “After the East-West Agreement. This opened up Our Second Lyfe to the world where I am from.”

“Oz,” spoke Old Mabel.

“Yes,” agreed Tin S. Man. “I was an experienced tree chopper there — my original name is even Nick Chopper.” He sighed. “But it was all because of the love of a Munchkin maid that I met my sad fate. An arm there, a leg here, then finally my head, my heart. All gone. Nicked away by my formerly trusted axe, enchanted by the jealous, evil witch who was her ward. I was fully tin when the Intense Shower came upon me unexpectantly that one summer afternoon while I was chopping away in the deep woods, freezing me up for perhaps all time. Then finally, after a long long wait, another maiden arrived: Dorothy of Kansas, along with her friend Scarecrow and, later, the Cowardly Lion. They became my friends. My Intense Friends. They oiled me back to life. My heart pumped blood again. I became Dr. Blood.”

“But how did you get *here*?” Old Mabel repeated.

“When the Reverse World came, I chopped in reverse. Kcaw, kcaw, kcaw,” he attempted. “Reverse chopping sound there,” he said, and smiled. “I used this new found talent to restore the Rubi Woods. It was a very satisfying chore. I liked it much better than the opposite, or removing parts of the woods. I believe a word for this satisfaction is karma. But it was strange nonetheless. Have you ever walked in reverse, talked in reverse? You may know what I’m talking about, then.”

“I *think* I understand,” said Old Mabel. She thought back to Little and herself writing backwards to hide their actual intent to Winfield, like when they sneaked out of the Dawg Pound to explored the forbidden Sandusty camp one weekend. Boy did they get in trouble.

“I learned of the 200th — Unch — the day I reverse chopped the 199th back to life,” Tin S. Man went on. “That brown cypress,” he clarified. “I knew there were 200 trees instead of 199 then because Collagesity had returned, as emphasized by my new and good friend Homer S. Simpson. S. — like me. His S. doesn’t stand for Soldier, though.”

Old Mabel tried to keep the metal giant focused. “Did Dorothy send you to the Rubi Woods?”

“Ozma,” he corrected. “The queen ruler. But Dorothy, of course, agreed to the task. They are in agreement about almost everything. Except one time…” He cut himself off there, reversing direction. “No, I better not. I respect both of them so much. We all have our differences.” But his heart had suddenly lost some warmth.”

“Another pointed question, then, Tin S. Man — Dr. Blood now. Are you Ray Davies?”

“Yes,” he answered quickly. No hesitation like in former times. “I am also the 11th beyond the 10. ‘Dark Side of the Rainbow’ is ten, like me (tin). Dorothy then finds me in the woods; brings me back to life, along with her friends, now my friends. I am Dr. Blood.”

“Thanks for telling me this.”

“You’re welcome, young maiden. I salute you.” He stands and salutes.