Tag Archives: Mid Hazel^^++++%

00470203 (the search for meaning (the flesh and the stone))

“I have a confession, Eddy, my Edward.”

He looked up at her from his bench position, his standard sitting place in their very tall, very narrow new New Island dwelling spot shaped like a ring. “Yes, dearest?”

“I went over to Fishers Island last night.”

“Umm… in your dreams?” Eddy asked of his lover, his *inventor* Shelley. Again the red haired version. Just to be someone different or try to be.

“Nah, in reality. I wanted to check out the location of the K2 lounge. The, ahem, *landlord* said it was gone now in the text accompanying her profile picks, along with the attached cafe. Yup — both gone as I checked.”

“But — you were here all night,” countered Eddy.  “You mean? … that period between supper and TV time, that hour?”

“Yup,” she said again. “And I was over there long enough to join some kind of academy. I think it was run by witches because they gave me this costume for free.” She quickly donned it. “Cool, huh!”

“Hazel, I mean, PHEH, *Shelley*, this is bad. Really bad.”

No, he thought, taking another gander. Not bad. He came up with another word: evil. Really evil.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0203, New Island^, Wallytown/Fishers Island^

00470117 (Mid Hazel)

She was easily enough trapped just in the sim of Sandraman. I didn’t need the rest of this *old* New Island to do the trick. The other New Island, the *real* one as it were, will remain a black and white dream inside her head at night. *My* dream.

Night night, sweet Shelley. See you on the other side, he he he. Ho ho. (sigh) Hu.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0117, New Island^

00470106 (red = dead)

My old haunt NWES City: devolving and most likely soon ceasing to be.

For example, the interesting trailer park across the road from Moe’s old bar: gone. Moe’s former building with the red square now in front: empty. Probably has been for a while, rent due who knows when.

The 4 (red yellow green blue) into 5 butterflies (add: orange) weren’t fulfilled, pheh. Could they have ever been? I think in a probable reality this is so. Everything Collagesity went into everything NWES City, smaller to larger, and made a new whole. Subways were completed. The, ahem, downtown elements of the burg were better balanced by the cleaner uptown ones. A clearer core center was established.


Hehehe.

But I haven’t given up on it quite yet. Or at the very least Wheeler hasn’t.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0106, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, NWES Island^

00470104

“Ooh, the city lights of Juho over there are *soo* pretty (!). Good to be home.”

Eddy pivots in his seat at the closed Asian Fusion Restaurant to take a gander. “Those blank white trees over there: not so much. Blight,” he spits out. “Our Second Lyfe trying to be more than it can or should. Leave the old but still quite functional game alone, you *Limeys* (!).”

“Oh Eddy,” says now red haired Shelley, back from her sabbatical to who knows where. Ready to surprise the parents. Who forgot she even existed. “Soooooo negative.”

“I’m *not* negative. Just a realist. Like you returning here. Your mother put you in *prison* the last time because of her jealousy. She says you’re a child but she knows better.”

Shelley wasn’t so sure. Besides, in her eyes she still had her freedom while trapped away inside Rockaway Beach Penitentiary. It’s all about perspective. She even wrote a song about the paradox (see: post 01).

“Listen, it’s 4 in the morning,” she decided to say. “We’ve been up all night. We’re tired, we’re wore out from the journey.”

“From who knows where,” Eddy, her Edward tacked on.

“Oh you know where, you new husband you — Silly.”

And suddenly he did. New Island of course. Escaped from mainland prison via that route, that direction. The chasers couldn’t get to her that way. The bridge between the two became broke and wouldn’t open back up.

Refuge. But with a witch in control now of everything, ugh. She’d still have to pay a price.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0104, Jeogeot, Juho, Nawt Vaya, New Island^, Omega^^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^

00470103

Going to see the New Island maker and hoping it’s not Mid Hazel again, SHIVERS. Despite the location names involved here (Hazel, Hazelhurst (Ruins)). I’m taking him up on his invitation cited above from “The New Island Relocation Guide,” found online for free!

Just over there in that house to the left, he said about this picture from the guide which I’ve somehow managed to get inside of, ha. He also indicated that the collection of structures to the right where the railroad leads is the village of Hazel. Definitely avoiding that; no use in taking any chances at this late stage (!).

—–

I notice the geraniums, I notice the succulents. This is definitely the right place. NERVOUS still.

Knock knock knock.

An older gentleman in a Hawaiian aloha shirt with paint stained hands soon opens the door. Relief, PHEW!

“Can I help you, Miss?”

Shelley wakes up before they can talk further. An explanation of what’s actually going on from the creator will have to wait until another night, another dream. Or maybe a series of dreams — that would be cool.

“Till then,” she can hear him say as he retreats back inside. A painting, she also picked up on. He’s working on a painting of….. this she couldn’t resolve.

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Allred

From her many monitors up in the 3996 meter high Controller’s Office, positioned as close to the Void as possible without getting absorbed, she watches the unfolding of the apocalypse on levels below…

… no Blue in sight.

In a directly related story, Mid-Hazel or Hazel Wood was never in a cell in the cellar to begin with. All part of the plan.

Just a dummy.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0116, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland

Parasol

“Every time I think about Level 02 and the testing that goes on there, my heart grows cold. Military cyborgs we’re developing there. Cold blooded killers.” She wondered again if Shelley’s old husband Arthur Kill (“Old Arthur”) was possibly part of these experiments.

“Let’s just get this visit over,” The Mann said back, concentrating on navigating the tricky staircase down to the basement of the manor, which will become The Mannor soon if he has his ways.

—–

“See?” he said at the cell’s door. “There’s the old hag of a witch. You’re *not* Mid-Hazel or Hazel Wood or whatever she calls herself these days. You’re different.”

“I just remember the–”

“You remember nothing. Dreams, I say. Dreams of a parallel existence perhaps, but… there she is and here you are. Separate but definitely not equal. You are good–”

“I have a red eye,” she quickly countered. “Some call me Red because of it.”

“AND… you have a blue one. Balance. You are not her,” he doubled down.

She decided now was a good time to test the sentence again. “How’s your *girl* today?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0106, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland

00420105

They were preparing for battle, they were preparing for war. The Mann claimed to not be the same as Wayne Bruce who owned the manor but just an old neighbor doing a favor and house-sitting while he and and his “wonder boy” were away chasing arch-villians around the world, specifically Antarctica at the moment and possibly New Zealand. I checked back through the blog and saw that he indeed was a former neighbor over on the Corsica continent (Instabar sim). By the tone of his voice back then it didn’t seem he had much respect for the dynamic duo, this Batty Man and Superduper Guy. Old grudges tend to not alter that much over time.


March 03 2020: Batty Man and sidekick Superduper Guy arriving home in their noisy Battymobile while neighbor The Mann looks on disdainfully.

What else? Oh, the whole war/battle thing. Here’s some pics of the odd assortment of troops from a lower level of Redsland, closer to the ground for easier dispatchment when needed.

The conflict? Some call it the great Green-White War, others Green-Gray. No one knows exactly how or where or when it started but it extends over the entire known Universe by now in ever manifesting pockets here and there. Many are conscripted and don’t return home, either by death or by perpetual service. Martian Mabel’s big brother Little Big from photo-novel 02 was one of these. Mabel will never get over the loss, although she may put on a brave face nowadays. And here we come upon the legend of Plain Wayne, said to be killed in the war as well; slit in the throat by none other than our Wheeler back in her more evil days as directed by the powerful witch Mid-Hazel; event mentioned in photo-novel 03. Is Plain Wayne the same as mild mannered Wayne Bruce, alter ego for Batty Man? If so, why isn’t *he* dead? Mid-Hazel aka Hazel Wood would know if anyone. I’ll make a note to ask her later through some character or another; she now appears to be imprisoned somewhere in the innards of the manor with former formidable powers excised. More coincidence?

And here’s certainly another interesting twist. The Mann is actually Marsha “Pink” Krakow’s father as proven through the plot of photo-novel 19 where she’s 1st introduced. And now they interact again in the current photo-novel. Do either remember the other? Is The Mann, for example, so busy making sure the grounds are neat and tidy for Batty Man and partner Superduper Guy’s return that he doesn’t have time to recall who he really is? And it does indeed look super; Jack and Jill, however shady they are in other ways, are really skilled lawn care people.

And if The Mann is around that means Parasol his wife is too — I’d forgotten about that as well. His perfect Wo-mann, first rendezvousing with each other on the Fruity Islands back in photo-novel 12 and then properly tying the knot in photo-novel 24.


meeting in novel 12


marrying in novel 24

And here she is now, entering the manor room where The Mann is fingering through the first of Schubert’s 4 Impromptus in his own inept way, the only one he can play to any degree atall. He’d admit this ineptitude himself; would say Parasol is the true musician of the family. But then he might also thinks of drums — someone is talented with the sticks as well. Maybe he remembers Marsha during these moments, maybe it lies just beyond his consciousness still.

But Parasol certainly knows, also known as Red and, from the other side, Blue. She’s a bad speller and a wiz at the same in one.

“Where’s your *girl* today?” she tests once more.

“Girl *Friday*,” he responds defensively from the piano, inept fingering temporarily halted. “I hired her as a secretary; I have no interest in her otherwise.”

Still doesn’t remember, Parasol understands through this. She can keep her edge for now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0105, Fruity Islands^^, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland

00420103

He invited her to play pool with him and she turned out to be a god damn shark. Never mind that, he said internally. I simply need a sounding board for my evil plans. From Neptune he was, he started the explanation after managing a satisfactory break, sinking his own 10, 14 and 15 but also her 2. The same as the Joker, he said about his hometown, the same as the Penguin also before him. But he was a new type of Waynesvillian. He had managed to trap the most powerful witch of all time named Hazel and incorporate her into himself. Hazel Wood.

“Funny name,” she said, sinking the 6, 4, and 5 in a row before barely missing the 1 with a tricky jump shot over his 11. They were playing 8 ball, his favorite. Until tonight.

“Not so funny if you’re face to face with the ancient hag. Down in the cellar she is. I took away her power, made it my own.” He produced a bit of electricity from his fingertips to demonstrate.

“Not so helpful with pool, it seems,” she then opined, watching him miss hitting the 12 in a corner pocket with those same hands. She surveyed the table and predicted a win in her next turn. She promptly sank the 3, 7, 1 and then 8 to accomplish this. “‘Nother one?” she asked about a follow up game while assuming a victory stance with the pool stick.

“Nah not right now. I want you to come back over to my desk. I want you to see something.”

“Alright. But no *funny* business.”

“Why Miss… Krakow isn’t it? Whatever do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” She’d felt him staring at her while they played.

“No no no, nothing like that. I want to show you the *book*.”

“Oh. Okay I guess.” The mowing became louder outside as Jack edged closer to the house with the John Deere, new shocks in place for a less bumpy ride. Jill’s electric hedge trimmer hummed just beyond the window. Both were hoping to get a glimpse of that book. This is the reason they came back at all after the dual absences.

—–

“Well?” he asked. “What do you think?” The mowing had stopped outside, the trimmer silent along with it.

What *did* she think?

“Biff Carter?” he prompted further. “Does *that* ring a bell?”

“Did you hear that,” whispered Jill excitedly over to Jack. “An actual name from the thing.”

“We have our lead,” he whispered in turn, and they left the scene before being spotted.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0103, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland

00390706

They walked away from the peak overlooking Coyote Pass, not holding hands yet but feeling closer than ever because of what they’d just witnessed, the girl for the girl and, likewise, the boy’s death for the observing boy. Deep down, they realized it could have been them. Oh, not by hypnotizing orange trees like with humans Al and Sarah, but something else Mid-Hazel could have concocted especially with mechanoids in mind. And they also came to realized they were suppose to replace these 2, just from the act of being witnesses to the awful spectacle. Tom knew what could come to pass — at the Pass — when he lured them here. “Take a well deserved vacation,” he said to the 2, fresh off their saving of River by turning everything dark and muddled there into light and clear and *clean*. No more chocolate mess. They had worked together there and they would work together in the future to handle a bigger crisis. The pollution of the whole original Bellisseria continent by evil forces of sickening sugary designs much vaster.

“How about the Western Hills of Bellisseria?” he said to them in his office that morning, even providing the pair some scenic landmarks that he said Al had scouted out in his visit there (see first of this here photo-novel). Top of the list: Coyote Canyon Overlook. He *knew*. And so they saw. He didn’t tell them because all lie in a probable reality still, and, anyway, there was nothing they could do about it directly. “Just observe,” they can hear him say as an afterthought in their heads now, after the tragedy was over. Later on, through the pumpkins, they understood something else was involved: alien creatures of a high design indeed.

First up: Butterfingers.

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2023 MORE MIDDLE”!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0706, Bellisaria, Western Hills