Tag Archives: Martha Lamb

another night

—–

“What was it about that jar?” Sister Martha Lamb wondered for yet another time concerning Falmouth 08, even going so far as to rez a small couch in front of it for further analysis. “Copyright protected image; inside but also broken through,” she continued thinking aloud. “A weakness but also… hmmm.”

She still couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island

the “i” and the “y”

“We’re going to be here a long time. Aren’t we daddy?”

Angus didn’t know how to answer the pointed question by his daughter but he knew they were. The energy was just too strong here. Much more palpable than Obscure. True source revealed!

“It was those woods all along.” his daughter Ragdoll spoke again. “Wasn’t it?”

—–

When they had returned inside, Ragdoll asked her father if Rubi was spelled with a “y”, with a negative response coming back at her. Then who’s Ruby? she wonders afterwards. Misspelling? And why the attachment to the Max deity? She could sneak out of town and ask Max directly, she supposed, but that had become illegal thanks to Sister Martha Lamb. But… middle of the night. Who would be watching?

Sister Martha Lamb, that’s who.

—–

“Ssooo…,” Martha Lamb hissed from behind, startling her. “You’ve chosen Max (over the others). Looks like we’ll have to talk to the *Town Council* about *this*.”

And she hadn’t even received a clear answer to her question tonight.

—-

“Maybe (the graffiti) was all just some kind of elaborate trap set up by Lamb herself,” she theorized to her sister later back at their shared room in the Rubi trailer. She stopped typing in her journal and turned to face Indigo directly. “You’ve never talked to him. Have you?” Indigo just shrugs from her lying position in return. She’d almost always assumed the conversation between the two was just in Ragdoll’s head but rarely said anything about it out of politeness. Let the child have something to believe in, to hang her hat on, Indigo had thought down through the years now. We’re stuck in a trailer in the middle of nowhere. But, anyway, it was all leading up to this. The woods. The town. The religious battles between the Oo’dites, the Cheeseheads, and now, most likely, the Maxers who can’t be x-ed out. Ragdoll would soon turn 13. Old enough to know the truth. She will be initiated into the fold.

This is what Pot-D was about now: The woods. The town. And, of course, The Diagonal itself. She will hide in the 125/125 tree tomorrow until the sun comes up. And she must remember to take Karl’s book with her for study and entertainment. Tinbaby, hrmph!

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Filed under *Second Life, Rubi

external/internal

Facing threats to the south (Cult of Oo’d)…

… the east (Fal Mouth Moon)…

… the north (Stairs)…

… Sister Mary Lamb retreats into her fortress of cheese to worship the gateway gods. She chooses liquor tonight just to switch it up…

… but when fellow devotee Jack Richardson starts to sneeze and sniff beside her, she changes back to the standard fries on the opposite side of the prayer room.

Good ol’ fries. Never lets her down. Now if she could only stop stealing glances at Baker B.’s degenerate collages in the Fal Mouth Moon across the street and focus on the Great Cheese. That hand, that hand…

One worry: she’ll start to develop stigmata but of the wrong kind. Tell tale type.

It’s all leading somewhere but she doesn’t know where.

I might.

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Filed under *Second Life, Lake District, Rubi, United Kingdom

The Max

Ragdoll was the first person to point out that if you stand atop the Stairs Gallery (still vacant as of this writing) and increase your draw distance to just over 300 meters, the almost totally white Max Statue will appear to the northeast. It then became sort of a fad to have impromptu parties there on Friday nights to celebrate the mysterious, 20 meter high deity perched atop the Second Lyfe Railroad in that direction. But Sister Martha Lamb quickly snuffed out any chance for the get-togethers to develop into yet another rival religion in town to her own. She declared it idol worshiping, and threatened to write the Lindens (rulers of our world) to have the statue torn down. The threat worked: either avatars moved over to Ragdoll’s old trailer park to continue worship (these numbered three: 30something couple Richard and Linda Abingdon, along with octogenarian Steve Barker), or people stayed in Collagesity and conveniently forgot all about it, including Ragdoll. After all, by this time she had a new boyfriend named Jerry Richardson to deal with, an older man himself and well into his 50s when they shared their first bowl of Bumpy’s ice cream purchased from the new Bodega Marketplace dessert bar. Yeah, Collagesity is doing just fine these days, and another religion may have muddied the spiritual waters too much. But Max remains there for all to see from Stairs, and — if you increase your draw distance to the, um, *max* (512 meters) — from about anywhere in town within eye shot actually. Long Live Max!


The eyes of Max.


Max: Second Lyfe RR in front; Great Wall in back.


Max above Agnus Nuffin’s Blue Star Truck Stop.

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Filed under *Second Life, Iris, Rubi

Lo point

“I am the 9th, Mary.”

“That’s great. Are we done (with the snapshot)? Let’s walk over to the insane asylum, if so. Let’s go see Adelaide.”

“Alice’s (Alices?) nowhere to be found. We reside in the Ukraine now. Russian is sooo yesterdays.”

“Let’s just *go*.”

“Oh all right,” Pitch Darkly relents and gets up to head westward. Into Russia territory again. New Island, pheh.

—–

The portal entrance to Lake Tethia. Pitch allows Mary to get all angley and fish for perch a moment, with immediate success.

She schemes to make a list of Pond District pools and their angling potentials. Would Pitch allow her to complete the project, though, given this is “Russian” territory now? And what’s *wrong* with her husband? Would he return to normal after all this “Number 9” stuff is done?

Unable to get through today, however — the property seems blocked. Did they do this specifically to keep Pitch out of their village? These Ruskies? He hates them now, whatever the actual facts.

Northern side here: he’s just not having much luck. Pitch black blocks him again.

He decides to teleport back home and try again another time. Mary, of course, follows him there. What a lamb.

—–

Later, in the consulting room at the Collagesity branch of Fries with Cheese…

“You must leave your husband. *Immediately*.”

“I’m over here,” the distressed Mary beckons.

“I’m sorry,” Sister Martha Lamb apologizes. “I can’t… seem to turn my head… to the left right now.”

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island, Pond District, Rubi

infiltration 02

“It is indeed,” Sister Martha Lamb muttered to herself while studying “Bullrocks” (Falmouth 08) and seeing the phrase “Copyright Protected Image” adhered to the mason jar with the fake bull moose inside. But she couldn’t help being intrigued by all the intertwined legs and shoulders — bull in jar, bull outside jar, and that ridiculous Mr. Bean man Rowan Atkinson involved as well. Aliens, hrmph. She couldn’t stand them. They didn’t exist in her world. The World of Cheese. “This one will go first to prove my point and to cut the heart out of the resistance at the beginning.” She turned. “Now… the hand.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Rubi

infiltration

From the folds of her gown, she lifted a green metal cube about fifteen centimeters on a side. She turned it and Paul saw that one side was open – black and oddly frightening. Paul slowly put his hand into the box. He first felt a sense of cold as the blackness closed around his hand, then slick metal against his fingers and a prickling as though his hand were asleep…“What’s in the box?”

“Pain.”

From Dune, by Frank Herbert.
Published by Putnam in 1965

Sister Martha Lamb has her eye on all the degenerative art of Collagesity for certain. But most of all she has her eye on the Cheese. The Great Cheese.

She expects many more seekers to pay for the privilege.

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Filed under *Second Life, Rubi