Tag Archives: Mid Hazel^^+++%

Oberstdorf

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“So where are we now, Baker Bloch?” Wheeler asks. “Jerome T. Newton again?”

“Yes,” he said plainly. Snowmanster reappeared. “Inferialist is one of my favorite places in the Snowlands. I come here to rebalance myself. I too have aberrations.”

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“Yeah I know.” Wheeler knew Snowmanster didn’t remember anything about Mid Hazel or her 3 day disappearance. So many bodies. Slowly, surely, Wheeler was beginning to change. She’d seen the midnight movements, the dusk to dawn watchings. She liked it up to a certain point. Then we have the torture. Why not just kill them and get it over with? A quick slash here, a quick stab there. Over. Not the burning. Or at least not the torture. She’d finally found her line.

“I’ve finally found my line,” she spoke her thoughts aloud.

“Yeah I know.”

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—–

Then he showed her the downstairs diatribe. Wheeler recalled that Mid Hazel had revealed something similar two days back, but with the wording cunningly rearranged. She now preferred this version. Snowmanster was attempting to turn her world upside down and plant a seed of yang within yin. It was working.

—–

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2 hours later, she returned. “Maybe this is the place I can finally purify myself,” she spoke to herself this time, staring out the frosted windows at what locals call simply The River. But she knew Mid Hazel could find her anywhere. So much red. Not gorgeous red as Mid Hazel put it, but certainly gorgy, as flowing “in a gorge.” This is why Baker Bloch/Snowmanster showed her this place of peace and rest. It was time for balance.

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Meribel 02

Some of the townspeople have gathered behind Leilani Lodge and Chalet for an improptu party.

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Included in the picture below are economist Donald McClean, his wife Zelda, Rinnie the Elf (another North Pole refuge), and flag waving snowie Lawrence Love.

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Stucky Park.

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Jim Thorn’s home. He’s the local tailor and dentist. Jim’s wife Kiki doesn’t care much for snow so he bought these fall backdrops for her to mask the surrounding, white mountains.

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Mid Hazel finally confronts Wheeler in the middle of the road at Meribel’s western border. Wheeler is so startled that she runs her bike off Alpine Way into a large log.

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The next thing she remembers is waking up on Chuck’s couch, wondering what hit her. Mid Hazel stood nearby.

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“I’ve sent the others away,” she said in a more normal voice than you’d imagine for a 500 year old witch. “It’s those darn kids. They’re inside the X.”

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Meribel 01

The sleepy village of Meribel exists along what’s now called Alpine Way, an offshoot of Route 18. Although the majority lies in the namesake sim of Meribel, the town limits extend eastward into Eagan to include areas around Alpine Way down to this juncture. A more ancient name for this part of Meribel is Moral.

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Juncture of Alpine Way with Route 18.

Ancient eyes watch Wheeler as she bikes down Alpine Way toward the heart of the village.

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Wheeler pauses to look over at Three Star Tree and the former site of Mid Hazel’s witch college.

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Wheeler discovers more evidence for the continued influence of Meribel College here.

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Sim crossing into Meribel from Eagan. Wheeler can really feel the old energy now. Night has descended quickly!

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Chuck’s place. Fellow snowies Snowmanster and Chuck are catching up inside while Wheeler explores the town.

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Mutress the gnome offers hot cocoa to cold wanderers at Point 217.

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Wheeler waves at one of the numerous “traditional” (non-avatar) snowmen in town.

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Looking back. She’s near the center of the sim now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0609, Purden/Snowlands, Sansara

War

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“Wow, it’s really quite desolate in here,” says Wheeler, truly impressed with the views at Purden Center.

“I wouldn’t quite put it that way,” states a standing Snowmanster behind her, giving up the attempt to coax Core-Alena into speaking with them. “I think it’s a no go today, Wheeler,” he continues. “Sometimes that happens with the daytime talkie trees. They have good days and bad days, just like the rest of us. The night trees are a bit different, a bit more psychic and often, um, darker. Sinister I guess I should put it.”

“Where’s that dummy of yours?” Wheeler asks crudely of Woody Woodmanson.

“Dunno,” replies Snowmanster. “Perhaps in the gorge looking for frozen corpses. That’s where the Santas often dump them.”

“Interesting about all these Santas, some good some bad. Some kind, some evil. But mostly evil. That’s not what I’ve heard about your Christmas from sources.”

“Yes, they are probably the most popular demons of this Second Lyfe. Snowmen like me are up there as well. I think my snowy fiend-friend Chucky still lives over in Meribel.”

“Well let’s just go see the college over there,” suggests Wheeler. “Instead of just dawdling here getting cold. Let’s go see another ‘snowy’. Let’s *move*.”

“Alright, alright,” says Snowmanster, matching the tone of Wheeler’s voice. He then kneels down in front of Core-Alena again. “We’ll be back my friends. We need your help now to tell us where to go, what to do.”

“Please help us Core-Alena, you’re our only hope,” Wheeler mimics in a high pitch voice, and then titters. “Star Wars” was known all over the galaxy.

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—–

Snowmanster was vastly disappointed to find Meribel College apparently no longer existed, grounds vacated. All that remained was Three Star Tree formerly standing outside the witches’ dorm. Three black stars. Wheeler stared at it for some time, deep in thought.

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She could kill Snowmanster right now, she machinated, slash his throat at almost the exact spot where she similarly killed Plain Wayne all those years ago. She helped Mid Hazel then and now the old witch is returning the favor in the present — finally. She failed the first time with the fire, but Snowmanster must die. He must never be reunited with his true family Spongebub and Snowbob. Because that might end the Green-White War which must go on forever and ever. And ever.

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Green and White

The next morning, Snowmanster and Woody were able to talk in private for the first time while Wheeler went back to Cloudmont to check out a forest oddity I’ll get to in a minute.

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Woody spoke frankly. “Why would you bring such a person to this sacred realm, Snowmanster? You must feel the (bad) vibrations surrounding her.”

“I do, I do,” admitted the white being. “She’s been dwelling in a nasty place. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“I’ve been to college, Snowmanster,” declared the toy avatar proudly, tenor voice piping up. “Second in my class.”

“Of *five.*” Snowmanster then backtracked on his putdown, feeling the hurt. “Yes, yes it *was* a great accomplishment, Woody. I’m proud of you.”

“And I have a key because of it. I never let it go, not in sleep, not in travel, not in any circumstance. I am the first toy avatar of my clan to earn one.” He clutched the gleaming gold object even harder.

“Very proud indeed,” Snowmanster reinforced. He looked down into the vast Purden woods, containing perhaps five times the amount of trees as the Rubi Forest. He spotted the appropriate, sticky-outy tree from his perch.

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“I suppose we’ll have to visit Alena next.”

“Of course,” replied the wooden man, also looking down. “And Core.”

“Of course.”

—–

Woody Woodmanson didn’t learn a lot about the current situation from surprisingly tight lipped Snowmanster. He was disappointed. He and Snowy went back a long ways now, all the way to the North Pole when Woody was still a twinkle in Old Kringle’s ancient eye. The first sound he remembers was cowbell. Woody would be different — a living toy to aid the elves’ arduous task of preparing for Christmas 11 3/4 months out of the year. After the event was over they’d get a week’s break until New Years Day. That was it as far as vacation, sick days, anything. There was a dark side to Old Kringle indeed. If you became unable to accomplish your tasks for any significant time (minus during the aforementioned break) you were sent away and replaced by another. Like numerous others before and after, this would be the fate of Woody at the age of 8 when he contracted elm disease. Rudolph the Reindeer, shiny red nose dulled with age, led him to the borders of the North Pole to say goodbye. Newly hewed Woody2, as they originally dubbed him, was already at work soldering together toy parts in the work shed behind them.

Snowmanster awaited beyond the boundary. He helped take care of those cast aside — helped them heal up if needed and then channeled them into different lives, better lives in some instances. Woody was very lucky. Master Luke Purden’s elf servant at the castle, another North Pole refuge, had just been destroyed by a rouge Yeti. Snowmanster put in a good word. He was there watching from the woods the day Woody’s limbs were attached to his body and the magic powder of life borrowed from Mid Rhonda over in Meribel was sprinkled over him head to foot. It was the first time Old Kringle involved himself with the dark arts, but certainly not the last. Woody Woodmanson knew well the feeling of evil and dread.

So Purden Castle, perched between eastward green Purden and westward white Cloudmont, became his home. Luke Purden died on March 17, 1968, the exact day the trees began to die over in the Rubi Woods far to the north. Woody’s inheritance enabled him to attend Meribel College and receive a degree in psychics. There was some overlap in his studies with the tiny witch “college within a college”, a separate entity from Meribel but paradoxically joined with it at the same time. This was the same internal college that produced Mid Hazel in 1972, one of two graduates that year. Snowmanster didn’t yet know this fact. Wheeler had slaughtered Plain Wayne too soon to find out.

Woody’s key vibrated abberantly as Wheeler walked back into the castle ruins from the west. “Even Whiter Walt, pheh,” she said, plopping her Bowie body down on the stone block next to them. “How many woods *does* he inhabit?”

“A lot,” answers Snowmanster. “I would even dare to venture: every one of ’em.”

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What she’d been studying.

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3 to 2 to 1?

Baker Blinker and Baker Bloch were alone now, sitting one table down in the Blue Feather. After her spiel, Hucka Doobie muttered something about heading over to Yeodeol to check on that letter making workshop she first visited almost 7 years ago. By inference, much was learned through the bee being’s One Pink story concerning Mid Hazel’s much more recently affected curse at New Island, and why the Spookmobile is both back in Collagesity and over there still at once. Dimensions remain split. The Bakers’ had a trick up their collective sleeve, however.

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Bridges

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“I guess this is goodbye Baker Bloch.”

“Not forever Wheeler. Just until we can figure out how to deal with you and Mid Hazel. Baker Blinker, Hucka Doobie and I.”

“Tell Baker Blinker congratulations on the land sale. Oh, one last thing. I want to say goodbye to Old Mabel as well.”

“Very well.” He changes.

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“My car disappeared,” starts Old Mabel.

“Never mind that *young* Martian. You can rez another one over there on Mid Hazel’s property.” She turns around and points.

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“I hope that, at the least, you do not consider me a mortal enemy. I only used the Wilson mask as needed. I am truly David Bowie underneath it all.”

“Are you?” asks a still skeptical Old Mabel.

“I guess that’s what we’ll find out. Come over here now and rezz another car and skedaddle back to your Heterocera.” She walks forward, and Old Mabel follows. “Just through these pillars.”

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“No,” says Old Mabel firmly, sensing a possible trap. “I’ll rezz the car from this position. I see the property lines.”

The Spookmobile appears above the “B” on the wooden platform. Old Mabel hops in remotely.

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“You better change back into Baker Bloch or you might not be able to reach the pedals.”

“Oh right,” states Old Mabel, and she transforms once more. But Baker then has to stand up again and sit back into the car to fit properly. Mid Hazel’s plan had worked (of course).

Baker Bloch steers the car toward Wheeler and runs into her, moving her about 5 feet up and sideways both. Smiling, he drives up beside her again.

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“Aw, what the heck,” he says, already under the spell. “Hop in. Let’s go see that (boy) Karoz of yours. Just for a little bit.”

“Just for a little bit,” reiterates Wheeler.

As they sloppily made their way back onto Highway 9, the only bridge into New Island remained open…

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… for a lesser bit.

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Table Meeting 02

For Table Meeting No. 2, Baker Bloch arrived at the Blue Feather in his self named Spookmobile, almost running over Old Mabel and Hucka Doobie while humming down Old Cannon Road from his attic home in the western part of town. Baker apologized to the two while they were walking up behind him, nerves rattled.

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“You know it’s only about 100 yards from your place to the Blue Feather,” says Hucka Doobie, still dusting herself off from diving behind Major Stone to avoid being hit. “You don’t really need to drive. What is that thing anyway? Where’d you get it?”

Baker Bloch realized Hucka Doobie wasn’t inworld all that much and hadn’t caught up with the news. So he caught her up.

“Fascinating,” says Hucka Doobie afterwards. Anson and Anton. Yet another one. *Must* be the work of Mid Hazel.”

“And we further speculate that Wheeler is trapped on New Island now, unable to escape. I’d take you there to see the broken bridge but the meeting’s starting up in a moment.”

“Without Wheeler?” Hucka Doobie scratches her bee head in confusion.

“I’m taking Wheeler’s place,” Baker declared. “Let’s head inside and get this thing started.”

“Cool, I suppose,” says Hucka Doobie, still a bit in the dark on things. Old Mabel remained silent, not liking where this was, er, heading.

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—–

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“As most of you know,” Baker began, “Wheeler’s wishes were to move forward instead of backwards. Toward ‘Pumpkintwisters’ and the future instead of ‘Billfork’ and its Northfork and Billville in the past. *But*… Wheeler isn’t here.”

Old Mabel suddenly perked up. Could it be? Could it be?

“So we’re going to talk about ‘Billfork’ tonight.”

Old Mabel actually jumped out of her chair a bit in joy. She had been preparing to discuss ‘Billfork’ for weeks now, listening to all the pertinent John Lennon solo efforts and reading up about the Ono debacle and so forth.

“Now I’m sorry Tin S. Man. I know this was your time to shine.”

“‘T’is okay, Baker Bloch. The Ray Davies inside of me can wait. I am sympathetic to the plight of Northfork and Billville both. Both flooded, both moved. A moving tale each.” He smiled.

“Yes,” agreed Baker. “So since we’re backing up from ‘3 Friends of Belleville’ instead of going forward, we can point out that *Belle*ville camed from *Bill*ville — and also visa versa since time really doesn’t exist. This is part of the overarching complexity of the Piera. Old Mabel, do you want to help me out and pull up some pertinent videos on the interwebs? Try ‘Northfork + Polish’.”

“Sure thing, Wilson.” Everyone stared at her. “I mean, Baker Bloch, tee hee. Slip of the tongue.” She went over to the suave chair she had sat in so many times now and did the appropriate search.

“So what is ‘Billfork’ you might be asking?” then said Baker Bloch. “Well, on the audio side it’s primarily ‘Boom Dot Bust’ by Firesign Theatre. On the video side it’s the movie ‘Northfork’ by the Polish twins, Michael and Mark. As Tin S. Man alluded to, both feature towns that have to be moved in order to be saved. The town of Northfork is being flooded by a new lake. Billville is threatened by tornadoes, and also, strangely and syncily, a flood at the end, where the mayor has to turn into a fish and ‘swim, swim, swim’ to stay alive. Tonight, to begin, we’re going to look at a number of clips from ‘Northfork’ which are available on the Youtubes. We’re just going to look at them as they appear in Old Mabel’s hit list here, and I’ll talk about the relationship with ‘Billfork’ afterwards — I don’t think we need to do them in order. So if you would just start at the top of your list, Old Mabel, and work down.”

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“Yes *sir*”.

—–

2 1/2 hours later they had gone through innumerable Youtube videos featuring not only ‘Northfork’, but Firesign Theatre, Pink Floyd, and John Lennon and his Beetles. Even Old Mabel was getting a little tired. But they had learned a lot. They knew ‘Billfork’ contained some kind of code which Baker Bloch simply dubbed the Billfork Code during the meeting, having come up with that name several hours prior. Baker had passed out most of the 8 oranges Old Mabel dreamt about to participants at The Table this night, setting the remainder at empty seats while saying that each represented a whole track from ‘Boom Dot Bust’ used in ‘Billfork’. Old Mabel grasped hers tightly as Baker handed it to her, making sure she didn’t drop it this time (unlike in the dream). “Now I know we’re all tired,” Baker continued, “but we need to also talk about the 9th tonight. The 9th is ‘Doom Bot Dust’, the opposite of ‘Boom Dot Bust’. And that’s where we think the code comes from. A south by southwest direction.” Old Mabel nodded her head in agreement as she looked past Hucka Doobie in that direction.

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VW(X)

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“Yes come in. Quickly, quickly,” another Keat Owens implored from within the fairy house. “There’s mysteries to solve. No doddling dear — there’s been enough of that. Well, come in,” he said again. “Leave the golf club outside, yes.”

Old Mabel goes up the stairs and then leans the iron gently against the house just outside its railing. Taking one last glance over at Keat Owens Joker, she passes through the door she just opened.

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—–

“Yes, well…?” a similarly rushed Baker Bloch asks later at the Joker’s Wild Bar. Furry Karl was still under the weather. Rhoda remained the bartender for now.

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“We stared at the Nautilus City map for a while. The position of Doreena, Yvonne, and, um, this new person or entity we haven’t heard about before named Anton, were marked with red pins. Keat Owens Jack, as we’ll call him…”

“… because his suit is like Jack’s across the way…”

“Right, Baker Bloch. So this Keat Owens Jack then says Doreena has unexpectedly changed her name and appearance, and that this is more work of Mid Hazel the witch. Her “do’n’s” is how he put it. And Spider was in the corner of the small room beside us; forgot to mention that. He’s still spouting out or uttering or speaking those 4 numbers over and over, like you described before when he was with Carrcassonnee.”

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“Slightly before your time here in Collagesity, yes. Interesting. When did you wake up?”

“I was just staring at the pin representing Anton — more at my eye level — and a picture of what you call a Volkswagen Beatle at the bottom of the sea entered my mind. I stared at the completely algae covered car for quite some time. It was sad. Then I was jolted back to reality by the start of ‘Revolution No. 1’ on my player. That’s from the ‘White Album’. The more graceful ‘Long Long Long’ precedes it there. Then afterwards we have ‘Honey Pie’ and the horn laden ‘Savoy Truffle’.”

Old Mabel’s really getting into this Beetles research, Baker then thinks. Too absorbed? Well, she’s preparing for the next Table meeting, which is scheduled for tomorrow night if Wheeler can pry herself away from her new infatuation — her New Island. That seems to be a danger: Wheeler may be imprisoned by this new threat named Mid Hazel forever and ever on that island. Baker then noticed Old Mabel is staring at him.

“Thinking about other things?” she asks.

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New Leaves

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“It’s time to take off your mask, Librarian,” speaks a freshly arrived Wheeler. “I have learned information concerning you from an old witch named Mid Hazel over at New Island.”

“Alright,” he relented. “I know Mid Hazel and her ways. But when I reveal who I am you must change as well. We must do it in concert. Ready?…”

“Don’t play that one two three game with me,” demands Wheeler. “Just remove the mask.”

He did.

And she did.

“As people like us say,” the transmogrified Wheeler pronounces, “we meet again.”

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