Tag Archives: Marsha “Pink” Krakow^^+++++

September 27, 2023 · 10:55 am

00400211

She was working on her laptop now, Eddie still around, still enjoying the view of the ocean here while sipping on his 3rd slurpee of the day, a drink provided free of charge by the wooden lounger he sat upon. Maybe he shouldn’t go back either.

He pondered freedom in general while lounging and sipping. No payment for land, yet still with the girl of his, I suppose, dreams, at least in a virtual sense. And Edward coming into town as well, a needed sounding board. He can stop using local bartender Nas for that purpose, he guessed. Which would eliminate some other temptations. Meat City, pheh, he thinks. What has Karma brought me here? He thinks of its actual name. Kama, pretty close to karma, probably close enough to count. Edward, though. He must go back for Edward, start pretending they have a relationship beyond cousinship. He forces himself into an animation where he sits down his slurpee on the table between them. He caught a glimpse of what she was working on. The blog. *This* blog. It sort of spooked him. So much so that he decided not to ask about it. Something about Ozark Mountain, he gleaned, although he didn’t see the Daredevils part to end this time. Something else instead. Anyway he needed to get back and start cooking — grilling — since Ginger wouldn’t be around for that any longer. Been wanting to try out the new grill George gave him anyway.

“I should go,” he said, standing up.

“Do you have to?” she responded.

“Yep. I suppose. I have to get back for Edward.”

“Oh. All right. If you must.”

“You’ll be okay out here.”

“I know. I’ll keep the suit on; I’ll remember soon enough.”

But she didn’t, too tempted by the Sun that one fine day in August’s May not far away atall. And she paid that visit to Eddie and Edward to give them a piece of her mind, “borrowing” her mother’s car which was then spotted by the Chief of Police (trapped!). It was all falling down like a house full of cards. But first things first…

(to be continued)

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September 27, 2023 · 5:28 am

00400210

“The land description says, stay as long as you like, use what you wish. So this is my new home, just for a while, just until we figure out if we want that apartment or not more long term, Eddie. I promise to keep my cow outfit on over here. I promise I’ll keep trying to remember who I actually am. Is this going to be okay with you? I’ll still come visit you of course. Maybe even moreso (!).”

What choice did he have? Their primary cores had just given up their property over on Constance Island in Nautilus. They were drifters again, vagabonds. The apartment situation had not yet been settled. They needed a home *now*. “Sure, Ginger,” he said, reaching over and patting her pretty black knee on her black and white leg, hoofed at the end of course. And she was still in Broadwater, still off the (city) grid. That was a very very important factor, resonance with the good state of Utah not kicked in west to east, ending with the bend. The mayor’s car had not yet been dispatched.

But it eventually presented problems when Edward moved in, a cousin pretending to be a lover to keep the rent low. Because, as we’ve kind of hinted around, Edward sort of wasn’t real in this dimension of Their Second Lyfe.

(to be continued)

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September 26, 2023 · 9:47 am

front and back

George left town shortly after that, having been paid a handsome sum by the mayor’s office for his services. Ted took over his forman’s job unsurprisingly but already had his eyes on a position a bit higher up in the salt mine, maybe that one currently occupied by Perchy Jeff. George gave his grill to Eddie as a parting gift, thus the start of the all important hobby that got him hooked up with Wanda Marsha Ginger in the first place. Back there at the beginning of this section, over in Big Sandy on the old Bellissaria continent where he dug out her stuck VW. We’ll return there soon. First things first, though.

“How good a listener are you, Nas?” he asked after she poured his drink, a frosty beer with a pinch of root in it, ginger like his girl. He was down in the local dive bar below the apartment. Back in the Broadwater section of town, off the grid for sure since the roads only go about 2/3rds the way ’round the square place.

“Good as you wish, tee hee. What do you have in mind? Big Boy?”

“No, nothing like that,” Eddie waved off the suggestion, still happy at home of course. “I need something more like a sounding board. To air my thoughts. Old Man George split town, you see. I could bounce stuff off him like it was rubber.”

“I’m a good bouncer,” she tried again, eager for a trick and a tail herself.

He reached over and grabbed the handle on his beer, took a sip. “Listen, you’ve been here a pretty long time. Just like George. I mean, before he left and all.”

“5 years,” she said. “Going on 9.” She knew the numbers didn’t add up but neither did time here.

“Do you recall… the Ozark Mtn. Daredevils? They had a cook who died. Got murdered actually.” He of course didn’t add, “Ginger thinks she’s this cook.” Not yet. Maybe after a couple of root laced beers, maybe 5-9.

Nas thinks back, tries to remember. “Lot of rock bands come through here,” she excused her memory. “Ozzie Osbourne played over at the beach that has his name now in its honor (for instance).”

“Didn’t know that,” Eddie replied to this, contemplating a possible connection between the two. “Is that where he ate the bat?”

“No that was up in the real world somewhere. As virtual as the act sounds, I know. But: real.”

“Hmm.” Eddie wasn’t so sure about that. Nor the reality of the Ozmo Devils being in Meat City. 4th. He remembers Golden (psychic) telling him about the 4th. Pay attention to it, she said. Look for it; be aware of it. Gold itself.

“The glam rocker Donovan was another act that came through,” Nas recalled, trying to be as helpful as possible, stay on Eddie’s good side. Because she still had designs. Despite his seeming happiness. Events could turn, she knew. And she could be waiting in the wings. “But they corrupted the spelling when a sim was also named for him. Donathan it became, a typist’s error at the then mayor’s office. Ray Blueberry, a Marshian from up in Big Swamp. Didn’t last long after that. Lot’s of glam rock fans around here. Bowie could come down from his Black Death Star and be a god of this place if he wished.”

Yes, thought Eddie. Nas the bartender will be helpful. Likes to talk. Seems pretty smart. He’ll overlook the sluttiness. He won’t tumble for another. Surely Ginger will come around. Or whatever her name was, he ends.

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September 25, 2023 · 9:58 am

00400206

“Yes I recall. The direct resonance with the Utah town in the Marion-Francis circle. The one that put SS on the map. But the overlap was rejected by the good people of that state, steeped in religion not mysticism and alchemy. They knew and understood the gold seekers that were greedy prospectors, ready with a trick and a tail. So they bent away from Meat City, to the detriment of both. The upper ones tried to mirror the energy back into the town but no good, or incomplete at best. Now you can revisit this. Where is the coordination of Broadwater in Kamas?”

After checking: “It’s off the grid (!).”

“Exactly. It has its own energy independent from the grid that absorbed the rest. Streets don’t go all the way around the sim. Keep that in mind when exploring further. More aligned overall with the continent rather than the city, a larger power.”

—–

“No sushi today! Bad!” the proprietor of the stall barked on the same block as the new strip mall.

Geez I was just passing by, she thought, oblivious to the omen.

Suddenly time stood still.

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September 24, 2023 · 9:31 am

Tin to (alchemy)

He was back in the apartment after work was over, staring at Ginger cooking again. Or was it Wanda? — so bad on names. Cow outfit was still on. Ginger or Wanda or whoever wouldn’t be helping him with an actual name either, then.

“How was work today?” Dare she call him dear?

“Okay. Had an interesting lunch break.” He didn’t stop staring, was riveted on the black and white.

“Oh? What happened?” Another egg flipped over. Expertly he noticed. She’d been doing this for some time.

“I went to a psychic,” he imagined himself saying, then changed it when spoken out loud to, “I went to a physician. I’ve been meaning to go for some time.”

“Physician? Doctor? What’s wrong, dear?” There. She said it. She must… no, she can’t go there yet. The love part. A term of endearment is not a declaration of love.

What to say? Ankle? Knee? Yes, the knee. “Oh it’s my knee, the one I pulled when I got stuck on that stick in the woods about a week back. ”

“Yes, I recall you telling me that. But you said you were okay.”

“I thought it was time to check it out. Never happened before (like that).”

“What did the doctor say?”

“Oh, he said I was okay and to stay out of the deep woods for a while. With a smile of course.”

“Can you do that?”

“I… don’t know. Anyway, um, I was just wondering…”

“Yes?” Now a flapjack, expertly poured before and now deftly flipped, tanned just right on the first side.

“Where did you learn to cook?” He was looking for a magic location and he got one.

“Well, I’ve always cooked because of my Mama,” the implication being that someone had to do it in the household. “And then I did it professionally for a while for that rock band who came along back in the 70s. Just came up to the door and asked me to do it.”

“Ozark Mountain something.” Bingo, he thought. He recalled his three, and also a 4th to go along with the rest. Red green blue… but don’t forget the yellow. Gold. Inside the ship now. Harvested.

(to be continued)

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September 23, 2023 · 10:33 am

00400203

“Breakfast looks great, dear. I’m *starving*.”

“Did you hear something outside?”

—–

“Oh, I’m so *full* now. Thanks for cooking again. I swear, I’ll start to chip in on that department very very soon. It’s just that…”

“That what…?”

“I feel like if I pick up a spatula I’ll never put it down. Did you have that feeling? The first time you picked one up or made breakfast for the first time? It’s a strange feeling but one I feel is true.”

“Umm.”

“Never mind. I know it’s a silly thought. And me and you just getting to know each other better. You don’t need to know all this *weird* stuff about me. Just that I’m cute.”

“Adorable!” she said on the couch by his side, and even gave his nose a tweak to reinforce this. Starts right there — tip of the nose; front of the face. Where truth begins.

He decides to address the elephant in the room. Or at least the cow. “H-how long…?”

“Till I remember,” she said about the suit she had on, guessing what he was going to ask. It was inevitable.

—–

Despite the appearance, this is not Marsha “Pink” Krakow. This is the mayor’s daughter. The cow suit makes her forget not remember. She had forgotten that very core fact about its existence. Eddie saw to that. Along with the mayor of this here Meat City, the first woman elected to the office. So many men wanted to keep women down in this primary Omega continent burg, known for its straight city blocks and shady dealings, crooked in every other way. The mayor was going to change all that. And her daughter had to be out of the way for her to do so. Thus the apartment in Broadwater, thus the distraction of opening a strip mall in a neighboring sim the same week of the rental. “See?” she can tell the worriers, the doubters. “She was just on TV that week. She’s *fine*. She runs off now and then.” The cow suit was an heirloom from her mother’s father’s brother’s sister’s aunt-uncle, a cross-dresser of sorts. “Put it on and you’ll turn invisible,” he said to his niece back in 1905 when he revealed the thing for what it was. He didn’t say that the invisible part involved the mind and not the body. They’ll never find her here. As long as she doesn’t know who she is.

Back to the couch…

“Don’t worry, Ginger. No one is watching us. I have all the bases covered, like in a classic Cincinnati Reds game, a victory of course. I’ll keep you safe at home.”

“No sin in Cincinnati, I get it.” But she didn’t smile. There were eyes out there. Brown ones, she sensed.

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September 22, 2023 · 10:25 am

Meat City blues

“I can’t get that girl out of my mind, Other Edward. It reminds me of that one up in, where was it, Broadchurch.”

“Broadwater?” corrected Other Edward, wishing the other Other Edward would chip in and at least dry the dishes he was washing. One f-ing plate at a time, since they dare not go to the store and buy a dishwasher. Might be spotted.

“Yeah, that’s it. Without the pigtails this time of course, but…”

“I saw it too,” admitted Other Edward, who was actually the only Edward here despite the name playing. He: Edward. Him: Eddie. And a change in the last name as well to help disguise. Edward Daigle and Eddie D’Aigle, then. Or “D’Aigle, Eddie” as he also jokingly liked to call himself now and then.

“Welll? Could it be?”

“Impossible,” waved off Edward at the sink. Tough stain on this one; he’ll have to cool it with the curry, he reminds himself. If it’s doing this to the dishes imagine what it’s doing to the inner piping. Bloody mess in there, he supposes, given all those kind of meals he’s woofed down over the years. “I saw her in the news just the other week,” he continued. “Mayor was opening a new strip mall in Kuradov.”

“I bet he was,” quipped Eddie, taking a sip of his coffee and contemplating what to say next. He’d gotten the sex wrong but he’d made his point. “We have to get an old photo somewhere — remove the pigtails; just to be sure.”

“We burned them all,” reminded Edward. “Evidence.”

“Right right.” Eddie hung his head. “I can’t even remember her name now, Edward. But you know I’m bad on names. That’s why, heh, I just call you Other Edward all the time.”

“I know you’re not,” replies his cousin who was now disguised as a lover, as in gay partner. They even had to kiss in public the other day for demonstration. His own cousin (!). And then that other time… but he doesn’t even like to think about it. “It’s Wanda.”

“Wanda, yeah. What kind of car did she drive?”

“I think she just took the mayor’s car most places. Of course, that’s what got us caught in the first place — why we’re on the lam *now*. Two gay lovers instead of two gay cousins. I mean, two *cousins*. No gay.”

“No, since we fell for the same gal and went to that place in Broadchurch [sic] and, right, she left the car outside and then the police chief drove by and then wondered why the mayor was in such a seedy spot in town, *seedier*, and went inside to check. Caught!”

“Like rats,” Edward at the sink reiterated. “The mayor’s daughter.” He scrubbed harder, as if trying to erase the memory from his brain. No go. He had a better one than Eddie. He recalled *everything*.

(to be continued)

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September 21, 2023 · 8:40 am

00400201

“Say’s here in the paper there’s a 2 fer 1 special on Amazon products down at the mall. We better go snag us some more exotic rain forest flowers, boys!”

“Here here,” they said kind of jointly, kind of as one. How to differentiate?

“Stew dogs’ ready!” called the one at the grill. That was Eddie, then (00330201). Different from Edward, like D’Aigle is different from Daigle. And *that* is her chosen boyfriend. Edward was just here for the hand off, the negotiation or price. No, let’s say he’s a cousin just come for a visit. Or maybe an old lover pretending to be a cousin if Edward and Eddie are or were gay. Where did it all get started?

When it stopped; Marsha’s VW bug that is. Stuck in the sand — should have traded yellow vehicles with neighbor Mrs. Ordinary (aka Bethany, Ginger) while she had the chance. Drifts were often high on the edges of Big Sandy where beige spills over into green. Like today, a windier one thanks to the northeaster coming into shore from the west, from the direction of the USS Galaxy, duplicated both in sea and in space. Just came back from a journey to the Pleiades, which I believe is a star constellation formation (thanks Dolores!).

Eddie was grilling then as well, watched her spin her tires trying to get out of a predicament. Stew dogs done, he put down the spatula and walked over to help.

(to be continued)

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September 20, 2023 · 9:37 pm

twofer

She peered closer at one of the 2 bathers she thought might somehow represented Brabinites Ditsy and Zizzy Grant seen at the Omega continent’s Mountain Lake earlier in this here section. Instead: “That looks like me(!) Two of me!”

Somebody waited below out on the deck of the [Carcossa] houseboat with all the flowers they’d bought. Edward. The chosen one.

And… Edward?

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September 20, 2023 · 6:23 pm

00400115

They’d found something else in the sim of Carcossa, as close as you can get to Carcassonne among sim names in Our Second Lyfe. She knew this *crocogator* was the same as the great olive being, the former ruler of Collagesity back in the old days before the coming of Wheeler — olive as a color, even, if one didn’t already have enough evidence. Near the southeast corner of a 3×3 square of island sims effectively separated from the rest of old Bellissaria. But they don’t know what it means yet.

She had to approach the deity in order to become herself again, pink clad and dominant among the three constituents. It was going to be especially hard to keep Shelley down in the subconscious. Very powerful: dark butterfly power. Marsha tries to keep light about things. A laugh here and a giggle there helps, positive influence of Brown (3rd).

And that’s not all they found in this highlighted sim. A similar reptile positioned in a likewise southeast corner points the way.

Strong evidence that the rapscallion Bart lived here as a 13 year old boy in a 15 year old avatar’s body.

(to be continued)

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