Tag Archives: Mary Pippens^^~

rose hips

Sammie Parr visits the Red Umbrella and has a hard time understanding.

—–

“I do kind of like this piece,” she says to her devoted boyfriend of 4 years walking in from an adjacent room on the 3rd and last floor of the gallery, one Richmond Petersburg of Norfolk Virginia, out on leave from the navy.

“Art… like me.” She laughs at her mistake, perhaps a Fraudian slip. “I mean, *red* like me. The Art word.”

Richmond comes beside her and also studies from across the rail. He has an eye for detail. “Like the jigsaw piece as well, honey, the one at the top sort of holding the other 3 up.” He points. “The blue, the green, the yellow. It’s like they’re, I don’t know, being drug through the air. Airborn: yes, that’s it.”

Big nosed Achilles T. Pippins studying the next collage over suddenly sneezes and everyone in the gallery and more becomes infected. Stay safe out there!

—–

Later in the hospital, Achilles sees this same collage “open up” for him (as best it could) and he is able to pass the red woman attracting his attention so much before right up. Higher goals he has now! The gates swing wide.

Devoted wife of 40 years Mary Pippins is inconsolable (*sniff*).

Sammie Parr and Richmond Petersburg are fine and have forgotten all about meeting schnozzle cursed Achilles in the gallery. “I like your red outfit,” he said before parting.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0509, Black Ice, NWES Island^

character studies, Black Ice locations

Mary Pippins’ red umbrella and the Red Umbrella gallery

Bake’s Bakery (newly relocated!) with Barry X. Vampire and pretty Poetry Dancer

Zapppa’s apartment? (dreaming of that chick down there)

that chick down there — actually, those chicks, including the Her Majesty bigfoot/yeti in the doorway just down

Toddles roaming the mean streets of Black Ice at night again after drugging up her Grammy

Stumpy, the new bartender at Moe’s, smoking bong hit after bong hit while listening to noise rock with Gotham the psychedelic reggae monk. He’s got a head! He *is* a head!

Charlene Brown the punk working late night on her cryptozoology dissertation, unaware that off again on again boyfriend Barry X. Vampire Jeffrie Phillips is with Poetry tonight, the bastard

Melvin the devil boy offers a passing skateboarder some suspicious looking soup while half-sister Eldwina ponders her 1st assignment as an official member of the City Squad. Knew it! thinks full brother Judd from the stairs.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0308, Black Ice, NWES Island^

freedom

Jeffrie Phillips begins his latest assignment proper back in Instabar, the sim highlighted in section 3. Might as well be Sector R.

Perhaps the last dinner of the late, great Mr. and Mrs. Achilles T. Pippin — The Pippins, he considers, who of course include Mary with her red umbrella we suspiciously see little of, even though at least one character says she carries it around all the time. Better check on that, he thinks…

He finds the red wine stale but acceptable for an Australian. Better start looking around for that umbrella, he ruminates.

Hold on, he ponders. This seems unusual, hmm. Cyan… cyanide. Cy Twomile, one of the two most recent victims in this here photo-novel, even though he’s locally known as Big Black Smoke. Derogatory racial name? He better find a computer somewhere.

But what’s this? In the Peppins’ living room: red, blue, and then a yellow lemon on top. And cyan turns to red in inverted color mode — which he, like Aqua Dude before him, can switch on and off when needed, which he does here.

Yes, something about that coat hanger or whatever it was, he contemplates while sitting in the swing beside the 32 square meter house that caused all the messy Instabar trouble in the first place. Buster Damm, hrmph. Popping in and out of this reality at his convenience to cause harm and mischief, like a little, blood sucking gremlin or something. If only we could trace him back to his Pot-D origins.

He decides to check the “coat hanger’s” description remotely while enjoying his hot coffee the swing graciously provided for him, pretty good for Cambodian.

Ahh. *Cage* stand. Bird cage. But where’s the bird? Or *birds*, even?

He travels further back in time than ever to find out.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0409, Corsica^^, Instabar^

last

I sat about as far away from the attention mongering super duper heroes as I could. Swooping in here and taking over the basically dormant University of the District of Columbia property and renaming it DC Universe, hrmph. The audacity! Newly crowned neighborhood watch queen Mary Peppins, red umbrella-less for a change, is making some good points though.

“We must be vigilant for interlopers into our special, special sim,” she goes on, “now that they’ve discovered The Diagonal runs through it. Mr. Mann?” She points up to me. “Would you like to say a word on that? Since, eheh, you know, The Diagonal runs right through the center of your building. You, aherm, predicted its coming after all.”

I started to say, “well it runs through the middle of *your* property too; why don’t *you* talk about it?” But I acquiesced. “It’s all about The Man,” I said simply. “The Man (upstairs) is in the center of the sim that is on The Diagonal. My *nickname* comes from The Man. (My name’s) actually Larch. The Larch.” So — The Man; The Larch.” Made sense to me.

“Ahem, thank you Mr. Mann, er, Mr. Larch.”

“Whatever, honey,” urged husband Achilles T. from the side, nose still as big as ever. “Get to the part about the tiny orange house with the swing.”

“Yes, uhem.” Mary was obviously nervous about talking in public, being a simple housewife and all and without any experience in that area. But the neighborhood needed her, and former president Elaine Ratio was nowhere to be found. “Well…”

Just then, littlest vampire Buster Damm screeched up in an old pink convertible, surfing on its hood. “I believe you’re referring to *our* house!” he called through the hole behind The Mann.

He promptly went over the the DC Universe jail and freed Lego Monster Ken who killed everyone inside, RAWR!

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0318, Corsica^^, Instabar^

Hidey, actually

“Hmph. Hidi’s got a privacy screen surrounding her property now. And ban lines. Can’t get in. Doesn’t reply to im’s.” Mary Peppins scratches her chin, then continues to speak to herself while looking eastward. “Guess we’ll have to put up with that eyesore over there a little longer.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0313, Corsica^^, Instabar^

hidden?

“Come here dear,” Mary Pippens requested from the open door. “I want to show you something.”

“In a minute dear,” spoke her husband of 29 years, Achilles. “I’m recharging myself on The Diagonal.” One day it will solve my nose problem, he then thinks while beholding the cursed big honker between his eyes. I’m sure of it. 15 minutes a day: that’s how long the church told him to do, no more no less. He looks down at his watch.

Two minutes and 37 second later, he began moving to the now closed door to join his wife at the bay window of their bedroom. “Look there, hubby. I stare out this window every day at one of my beloved, local hills, and this structure *definitely* hasn’t been here before. Here, I’ll open the window so you can take a better gander. Right over there on the old Elaine Ratio property. She’s rarely home any more, you know.” With her arthritis weary arm, Mary points toward the visible corner of my recently erected 32 square meter house in Instabar, the one Summerhill Nova warned could spell TROUBLE for me once again.

“We should alert the local neighborhood watch. Who’s the head of that thing now?”

“Hidi,” Achilles said. “I think — can’t remember the last name.” He sniffed and the cats ran away.

“Well, I’ll try to track down this Hidi tomorrow.”

“Good luck.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0312, Corsica^^, Instabar^