Tag Archives: Merry GouldbuskC2077^^++$

November 23, 2019 · 6:56 am

Alice F.

“Why am I here, Axis? I can’t stand it any more!”

“Keep it down, dearest. You know why you’re here.”

“I know I know. The *Hiding*.”

“Did your skin change over today? How long this time if so?”

“Always with the percentages. *Yes*, it changed over.” She looked up from her backwards position, straining to see his face above her knees. “Sit down in the sand beside me. Hard to talk with you this way.”

Axis didn’t like sand. Actress Alice Frame knew this. And she’d purposefully rezzed only one chair on the tiny beach here. Fate, she thought. I stare straight out, but no one can look in. She lowered her head back toward the sand. Backwards she remained.

“I got a letter from Jack Toadswallow today.”

“Um, Jack who?” He was still standing. His legs were getting weary, his neck beginning to hurt. He couldn’t pull her off this peninsula effectively isolated from the rest of prying NWES. And he couldn’t stay.

“You know. *Ingo*.”

“Oh, Jack Toadswallow, right.” Axis had forgotten the name of the actor playing Alice Frame’s brother in the current production. And her real life lover, at least until the end of section 3. “How’s he doing?” Axis had taken pictures of the Rosehaven Yarn Shop but sensed he wouldn’t be sharing these with Alice Frame today. The princess has forgotten who she is.

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October 24, 2019 · 8:30 am

enjoy the little things

“To be clear, Hucka Doobie, the paint brush sign for this Little Art House contains no green. Red, blue, and yellow, to be true. But green is gray or colorless, just like in…”

“… The Red Umbrella?” guesses Hucka Doobie correctly. “61 rr crossing 49; I suppose you’re right. But who… you go.”

“But who will play Lu Ellen? Someone, obviously, with a red hat or cap. Doesn’t have to be *that* cap; (simple) red will do.”

“She’ll have to be human as well,” adds Hucka Doobie still standing below the green-less sign. “What I mean is that at least outwardly she’ll appear as wholly human. It’s only the difference between here (Hucka Doobie grabs her breast) and here (Hucka Doobie grabs lower) that matters now. Then *this* happens.”

“You know who it has to be,” states Baker Bloch, looking over at his old friend the bee-person.

“Well. She *is* still living here. With her brother/lover. Might as well put her to work. Make her grean again.”

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October 16, 2019 · 9:07 am

Eggplant 02

A peninsula would be a good place to swim, she then thought in a somewhat different form.

—–

“The blue hair will buy me more time to think about the next step, Ingo…

… er, *Sandy*.”

“I’m not Sandy,” spoke the figure across from her who looked like a cartoon version of actor Sandy Beech or character Herbert Dune (a cartoon figure himself, hence doubly so). Doppleganger, she realized. But what about herself? Fresh from a swim?

—–

She leaned back, studying what had just happened. Swimming hair… swim cap. Yes, this could work…

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October 14, 2019 · 8:49 am

back in NWES…

“Why are we still here, Alice?”

“Merry, please,” Merry Gouldbusk requested. “Merry Gouldbusk,” she asked in full.

“Sure, um, but, er, all the cameras have left. We’re all alone. Bob Waffleburg’s already started his next production. An adaptation of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s ‘Septimius Felton.'”

“Oh we’re still being filmed.” She looked all around at the camera-less vicinity.

“Yeah, so you’ve said before.” Actor Jack Toadswallow stared over at his co-star. *Former* co-star. But lover in this reality, not little sister. True, he was observing her all the time. *He* was filming her, in a way, in a manner. With his eyes.

Something appeared in the distance, beyond the missing piece of wall, perhaps beyond the skyscraper even. Alice pointed it out.

“Look, Ingo.” Jack had given up trying to get Alice to call him by his real name any more.

“Yes, what is it dear?” He still stared, he still photographed. What she saw excited her: dilated pupils. He turned as well.

“W-what is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know Alice, er, Merry,” replies the smaller in stature lover/brother. Looks like some kind of art from my angle.”

“*Floating* art?” she exclaimed.

“Um, yes. Not attached to ground. Attached to air instead. Sky art. Perhaps even skyscraper art,” he elaborated as it then began to float into same, swallowing green, blue/yellow, and red in sharp order.

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October 11, 2019 · 7:44 am

splitting

“Feel the emptiness in the center,” the small snowman instructed his pupil Herbert Dune from the, well, center.

The first explosion happened, rocking this Northside building. The snow-being, named Hugh, fell off the puzzle table onto the cushiony, knitted rug, losing his bell. Then the second, smaller kaboom happened, making his head separate from his body. No more instructions tonight from the diminutive, white guru. No more instructions ever. The dream was over.

Actor Sandy Beech stood up, looked southward.

But too many buildings were in the way to see clearly. “That wasn’t in the script. That wasn’t in the script!” he repeated, a second outburst louder than the first (mirror). He turned around to find the director, the cameraman, the soundman, etc. No one here. Any evidence of Bob Waffleburg’s dystopian parody film had disappeared. Sandy Beech was on his own again.

—–

Actor Alice Frame also suddenly found herself alone and without direction after the explosions, large and less large. The script she was reading for tomorrow’s shoot suddenly turned blank, nothing having ever formed or shaped out of these snow white pages.

—–

We must reluctantly say goodbye to NWES, its four jigsaw like pieces unable to come together to form a story any longer. But there’s always the possibility for return within the larger arc of another tale. We must move, Grasshopper-like, forward…

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October 10, 2019 · 4:08 am

R

“I *knew* I’d find you here, Eighty-eight.”

“Yeah. You know I can only get so far from you, Apple of My Life.”

“How’s your flu going?” Sarcasm.

Eighty-eight didn’t answer, but instead looked to the door. The door to *her* night club. She was the Star. It all revolved around her. Like planets.

“You gonna stick around and hear me play?” she then asked, not seeing the person enter that she wanted to. Her voice was steady, unfaltering. She knew what she was doing and was in command. Not Tracy Austin Newtonia Kashkow. The latter wasn’t use to that and didn’t like it. Not one bite she didn’t.

—–

She sat at the drum kit, calmly waiting while the singer and keyboardist remained frozen around her (like planets).

Her lover entered with the sphere.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Just afterwards his car parked outside burst into flames. Like the Sun.

—–

“I think I get it,” exclaimed actress Alice Frame in her rented apartment next to Spunky’s while reading the latest script. “Ingo is controlled by the Sphere, the Sphere is controlled by…”

—–

“HIT IT!”

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October 9, 2019 · 8:36 am

hole

They were watching “Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein” on the tellie tonight, a logical choice. At a predictable chase scene through a haunted castle, Merry Gouldbusk leans over and tells Herbert Dune that she got in contact with her brother about the banners. Herbert Dune arches his spiraling eyebrow a little higher, Spock style. “Welll?” he replied, thinking she needs to speak up for the microphones. But, overall, her acting was acceptable lately. She’d been taking lessons from one of the best. She’d learned a lot since Rosehaven. Except for the occasional name slippages she was fine. But just that: acceptable. Ordinary, even. Oh Alice Frame, Sandy Beech thought, how’d I get chained down with you. I am like a clipped Icarus.

“He said he had nothing to do with it,” answered Merry Gouldbusk, speaking up a bit at the encouragement of Bob Waffleburg off-camera.

“How,” stumbled Herbert Dune, then started again. “How is that *possible*?”

“*Dad-dy*,” Satan’s spawn Melvin complained from the pillow beside them, totally immersed in the castle shoot.

“Tell you what, young demon. You’ve stayed up too long past your bedtime already. Time to join your brethren upstairs. We’ll continue the movie tomorrow night.”

“Awww,” he exclaimed not too loud while obediently getting up and stretching and yawning. For a little demon, he was quite well behaved. They all were. Except Spunky of course.

—–

“Annnd. ACTION!”

“So explain what you said before.”

“About the banners?”

“Of course.” Stop ad libbing, Sandy Beech thought bitterly inside. Stick to the script!

“Welll…”

“Wellll?” Herbert Dune echoed back.

“He said he didn’t do it.”

—–

Sandy Beech complained to director Bob Waffleburg afterwards. “Jeez, it’s right there on the banner. *INGO*. How could her slightly older brother, her *Big Brother* after all, not be head of the police state here and spy on her all the time? Answer me that genius director.” Before, Eraserhead Man and his disjointed plots. Now, Bob Waffleburg’s logic gaffes. And he’s not a surrealist. No excuse for him!

“We’re… working on it,” is all he could answer that moment. Later, while the two were drinking at Spunky’s on Southside (no relation to Spunky the little demon), he let slip a little more. “It involves rats. *hiccup* And a secret room. *BURRP*”

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October 8, 2019 · 5:45 am

appellations

The next day they explored the city together, finding mysterious yards full of containers and pipes…

… non-operating, unfinished subways…

… and loads and loads of apartments, the great majority unrented.

Well, if they don’t like the present neighbors (and they *do* have neighbors themselves — more on that soon, perhaps), there’s plenty of other places to live here. No land for sale in the area, though, except for one small 512 going for 58.6 lindens per square meter. By contrast, Baker Bloch paid an average of about 0.7 lindens for the land he set up 7 Stones on about 5 months back. So: expensive! Way too costly to contemplate another purchase, even if he had the tier freed up for it. So this is strictly a rental scene for his extended family, to tell a story about a burg much larger than 7 Stones, and its promise but also, yes, failure to live up to expectations. Rows upon rows upon rows of apartments, a strong police presence, pockets of interesting neighborhoods. But not enough, Sandy had determined a while back, and now with Merry Gouldbusk joining in the lament. Not enough to ultimately survive.

I compare with VHC City, a considerably smaller affair than NWES (still much bigger than 7 Stones, though), but with a strong, central *structure* the whole community is built around and which keeps it thriving. This would be the Virtual Hotel Chelsea, a dominating force. NWSE has no such centerpiece that I can tell, *unless* this police hq can become it.

Probably not, but thought I’d mention. Merry and Sandy Herbert also visited there this fine, crisp early October day. Merry saw something she didn’t understand.

“Look, *Herbert Dune*,” she declared while pointing upward. “INGO,” she pronounced clearly. She had said INGOR before and they had to reshoot the scene. But it was a logical mistake, *because* Ingor Ratts was a famous figure from WES, the town that kind of sort of prefigures New WES, or what we now call NWES. “Like the four directions, North West East South, combined into one,” Herbert Dune explains another time for Merry about the town’s name origin. “It’s pieces of a puzzle fitted together. Here, let me show you. I know this dude uptown who can tell us more.” But before we get to that: the first name. Merry Gouldbusk again here, then:

“INGO, Herbert Dune, is my *brother*, my slightly older brother.”

“Big Brother, then,” states Herbert Dune while nodding. “I know how they are.”

She stared at the banner again, realizing: he’s been watching me all along!

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October 8, 2019 · 4:49 am

4th (Wall)

It was the piece de resistance of the move. A celebratory endpoint. The return of the Shape Pullers from Merry Gouldbusk’s past. Now she could enjoy them at any time, 12:37 or not. “Thank you *so* much, Sandy Beech!” she said while cameras were rolling and leaning over for a kiss. It was not reciprocated.

“And CUT! Okay, *kill* the shapepullers, kill the lights. Benny, you were looking away from the camera. And Horace, you weren’t even in the shoot! Get your little red keister out on the balcony and take a gander with brother Marvin at what’s happening outside, why don’t you! Oh, you little devils!” Director Bob Waffleburg kept complaining. “But *you*, my fine friend Alice Frame (playing Merry Gouldbusk/Breeze). You’re going to *have* to learn the difference between a role name and an actor name!”

Sandy Beech, the actor playing Herbert Dune, just nodded his head and stared over at her. With bile.

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October 7, 2019 · 5:25 am

test

“Merry, I have only a little over a day on my rental on the south side of the sim. Let’s just move in together.”

“Hmm.” She leaned her head against the back of the chair, thinking of the choice she’d made again.

“We’d, er, have to move into a bigger place with more available prims.”

“Erm.”

“I have a really nice, feathery bed,” he said more seductively. “Wouldn’t fit in here with the little devils, butt…”

“One day, huh?”

“Yeah.” He looked around the room. “You could have Satan’s spawn just have their run of the place. Only 50 lindens a week. We could get a better place. Not on my side of town,” he continued. “Nothing going on over there.”

“Maybe next door,” she proffered, thinking of the bill again.

“Maybe next *door*,” he echoed, offering his hand to hers. They drew each other in for a celebratory kiss. She changed again.

—–

“What about the other Herbert?” Hucka Doobie logically asked.

“Sent away,” I responded. “Too old at the core of it.”

“Core,” responded Hucka. “Interesting word.”

“She decided last night. At the Faux Rhino.”

—–

“That was just… satisfactory.”

“*Just* satisfactory?” the other Herbert, Herbert Gold, replied with widening eyes. He had tried his best. He knew he didn’t have anything more in him than that.

His Mission had failed.

Oh well. Back to April Mae in that Fi sim he can never remember the full name of, pheh. He left her a 100 linden bill on the bar counter before leaving. Just enough for a week’s rent in that new place she’d had her eye on for a spell.

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