Tag Archives: Mr. Z^*++++

00470308 (workaround)

“An island!” Firey calls from the top. “And about the right size too. Maybe we’ve found our Dream home after all!”

“Cool!” says his riding companion Leafy clinging to his legs below. “Let’s get a closer look. But *careful*.”

“Whoa, that was a *close* call with that big building, Firey. I told you to be careful!”

“And *I* told you when we started I don’t know how any of this works! I’m just along for the ride like you!”

“*Not* cool (still)!”

“Uh oh,” says observing fisherman Mr. Z, watching them move closer to the ground…

Closer… closer…..

*CRASH*

“*Well*,” says tossed aside Firey, trying to make the best of a bad situation. “We’re… here?”

Leafy leaps up, surveys the damage. “Firey what have you done?! Now we’ll never be able to return to Goikyland! Glider — *destroyed*!”

An exclamation which the people holding service behind the red doors of the Church of Ood they just crashed into would surely have heard if they weren’t laughing so hard at Pitch Darkly and his cussing about the blood spurt he’d received on his chest from the clown sacrifice up front, ha ha ha, he he he!! Even wife Mary beside him couldn’t subdue a smile. The landed spurt must have also exactly coincided with the crash outside come to think of it. Cool? Not cool? To be seen, perhaps.

On the other side of the island, All Orange senses another object-character is here with him now. No, make that two other object-characters, he amends.

He rushes inside to place a call to his Constantynople contact.

“Excuse me, Phyllis (Phyllis!),” Al says when hearing a particular ring tone and understanding who is on the other side. “I have to take this. Business matters.”

But Phyllis was still laughing at the matters in the church. Remotely. We’re talking about some kind of doppelganger spirit here.

“Hallo?” Reply. “2 of ’em, eh?” Reply. “Find them before anyone else if possible?” Reply. “I’ll try.” Reply. “Okay, I’ll *do*. Goodbye, All Orange.” He hangs up. “Goodbye forever I wish,” he says to himself and himself only. He turns around but Phyllis is on the ottoman now. Both of ’em.

“Sit down, Al,” they cackle as one, scrunched down to only a laughing/smiling head. “I’ll bring them to us, no worries.”

“Here,” Firey says, spreading his stick arms out before it. “I feel that we should go here.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0308, Constantynople, Fal Mouth Moon, Goikyland, Nautilus

light and shadow (The Z’s)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0604, collages 2d, Pennsylvania

I’ll have what I’m having

And so we end in a bar, Wheeler serving herself with tag-along 88s keeping guard. Usually this is the way you can tell it’s Wheeler and not someone else, say, Baker Bloch or Bracket Jupiter (and so on).  She realizes the resonance with the hat and increases its tips two-fold, least she can do for poor, dead Zimmy. Mr. Z. One and the same. Putting that to rest we can move on…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0416, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390415

“Why from the Abyss,” she answered the hot dog guy, trying to guess the ambiguity. The Christmas look and the green nose didn’t win him over. “Gracious goodness I’ve forgotten the name of this festive thingamabob growing out of my nose,” she said just earlier, talking about it before he did, they all did (in her mind). “Not mistletoe — that’s for hanging *above* your head, not *off* it, ah ha ha ha ha!” Did the laugh convince?

“Well it looks like a big long booger,” he said crudely, and then asked if she wanted relish on her big loong dog. Disgusting. Why did she come out of hiding in the first place? To deal with lowlifes like this beach bum? This nobody? “Where you from? Woman?”

—–

Where indeed? There were *elephants* in her Abyss now, another sign she had to go, along with the rest of the avatar family. Zimmy is obviously Jimy. Jimy Z., gone as sure as Zimmy since he was also dead. Only the symbolic Liverpool plane remains: big red machine, twitch of the Morgan, lumber for a Bench. Red as Rose, another archetype and more obvious. Red Star becomes Old Red Star and is banished from the game he so so loves. They bring in a Foster boy and he turns out to be just as legit as any of ’em. Conception is an error caught between the legs. Perez just is. Geronimo! (and he died) Griffey had a Junior who took control. One through eight complete. Visible compendium. No need to worry about the zero and the nine. They were enough by themselves to carry the team through any troubles, ride it to victory. Never mind who pitches what. What’s the pitch, Pitch? Didn’t matter. They were enough. Biiig lumber.

She went to talk to Willy Wonka in the past present future to give him a piece of her mind, dodging big piles of elephant doo all along the way. They met at the south end of the property, where we’ve been before, CROOKED in clear sight through an opening between palm trees and rocks. “You *don’t* understand,” she complained while indicating. “Those are *historic* buildings over there.” “That *junk*?” he reiterated, trying to think of new and more effective ways to derender all that for his fancy smancy artsy fartsy photos. “It looks like, I don’t know, a giant kid ate a whole bunch of tinker toys and legos and then threw up.” “*Moard* *Ling*”, she kept defending. “You’ll never hold a candle to him… Wonka.” It took a while but she had learned to respect the prolific prim creator, stuck in the past but with lessons to teach. Sometimes the past is better, at least in part, in ways. This is what she learned from Constantynople, soon to be no more here. She was about to have her last pass through it. She spotted the purple garbed guy — another *former* after all, another one living in the past. Why can’t he *see*?

It could have been different.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0415, Colorado, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390412

And so he’s come full circle, staring at a wall screen that shouldn’t be here. Constantynople should be integrated into the rest of the island by now. Yet: segregated still; central importance not realized, not understood. Myrtle’s urgings to her neighbors remained in the future, hidden in a probable reality, perhaps never to see the light of day and, if so, perhaps just falling on deaf ears, as she was once deaf to the situation. Yet she saw CROOKED (in the future), she saw the light, thanks to the Abyss and Axis. She turned.

—–

“Hooray, he’s back!” cried the standing yellow porch ickle upon seeing him enter the square. But Mr. Z was not nearly as enthusiastic as when this first happened over 2 months ago, shortly after Constantynople itself was formed. Now it just seemed old… and tired. He says goodbye to the excited ickle, arms still raised in joy, and lumbers up to his 2nd floor apt. pondering next steps. Zimmy, if only I’d found you in Southside, he thinks, head in hands, about ready for a good cry. Now I am still alone. The tears begin…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0412, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390411

Philip watched Philip’s head turn big one last time before turning and leaving him behind at the base of the bridge.

“You stay here,” he said to his double just earlier, looking down on him a bit from the middle. Only the big head drew them even. “Storms’ a brewing: hurricane season, let’s say. You go back and take care of Dancing and Flip Flop just in case.”

“Just in case what?” the double asked.

“You know what,” Philip answered himself, or about as close as he could get. But the big head — eye to eye, then. Something about his doppelganger having answers that he didn’t. But no time for that now; the decision has been made. He turns…

Mr. Z watched it all from a nearby chair, perhaps unnoticed in the heat of the moment. He’d seen it all before. His own double.

Mr. Z, aka A.B. Normal, paused at the top of the bridge, realizing he had encountered his own doppelganger heading in the opposite direction: toward that island storm.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0411, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390408

She checks her nails to make sure they made it through the teleport okay. “I’m glad you didn’t give away my location, Myrtle. That’s very sweet of you — protective almost.” As stated in the last photo-novel, Xia knew that Myrtle loved her. It was all games beyond that core truth.

Myrtle smiled through the relaxation. She needs this after Mr. Z’s visit! Float in Xia’s sky tub, albiet with clothes on because she was ashamed of, to her, “cow-ish” body. With Zimmy still nowhere to be found. Because he was she. “Think nothing of it,” Myrtle said, floating a little closer to the dress, those legs, those… eyes. Deep pools of God stuff — if only Xia would put that hand back on her dress so she could see them. “Are you going to sit on the edge all night or are you going to come in with me?” She splashed a little water in her direction in an attempt to get her wet to begin. Only her toes now. She needed it all.

She is mine, Myrtle thinks, splashing some more, coming ever closer. Mr. Z can’t have him back, damn the whole TILE angle. “Damn the whole TILE angle!” she said up to Xia, who replied with a, “Damn right!” and jumped in if only to obstruct the view again, soon to be enveloped by arms but, as usual, rejected. She was saving herself for Zimmy. Games.

And then Chet came into her life and Myrtle was still an afterthought.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0408, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

barn raised

Backpack loaded even more down than usual, Mr. Z sets off for the opposite coast, Southside some call it, more private than public as “Northside” here is more public than private.

He drops down beside the yellow ickle who bids him farewell and says he wishes he could go as well. Mr. Z points out that he’s a figurine and not really an avatar able to move about or he’d gladly take him along with him, if only to help carry his heavy pack. “Thank you,” the ickle said to this, happy to be even thought of.

Below Constantynople, he quickly encounters elephants where once was an empty Abyss, and not too long ago. Despite a tiger also being in their mix, he safely makes his way to the ridge in the distance that marks the boundary of Myrtle’s property, the highest point on the island despite being only about 15 meters above sea level.

Finding the Passable Property Corner (PPC), he successfully bypasses the ridge to entering Myrtle’s public part.

Damn. Forgot to close the outhouse door, she thought while staring at it from the single room she lived in, which Mr. Z. subsequently has to walk by to get to the house.

Cow, eh? How appropriate. He ignores the lingering smell while skirting, sights set on his goal.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0407, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

extreme resonance

“Well I have to admit I’m *jealous* Mr. Z. You’ve done such a fabulous job here…”

“Aw *shucks*. T’wernt nothing.” His true face on the many masked backpack he always carries around identifies itself by turning slightly red here.

“And I’ve, well, I’ve barely touched the Temple of TILE. So jealous…”

Mr. Z reached over, patted his hand. “We’ll work on it… *together*.”

“Sweet of you.”

“But first I have to make a journey. Across the island, south side instead of north. I have to go see where my cousin is, the other Mr. Z, the one they specifically named and called Zimmy. Last I heard: with a Beech.

Al’s cell phone rang. “I have to take this,” he said to the historian living on the second floor of Crooked in the village of Constantynople who had just recreated, to the best of his ability, the famous TILE channeling room where a 3rd cousin to himself and Zimmy, Olive Oylstick (who we’ve already met in this here photo-novel at the end of section 01), gave the virtual and real worlds her uber-important manifesto. All the answers to the universe, some say are in there. Trouble was, no one really knew how to properly decode the almost indecipherable document yet. Mr. Z was hoping that this re-creation was a step in that direction, along with coordination with Al and his high connections, TOM we’re talking about here. Who is on the other side of the line with Al now. Let’s listen in as best we can.

“Yeah it’s a nice day here in Constantynople, thanks for asking. What’s on your mind, TOM?”

Reply. I thought I heard the word Jasper, which was confirmed just ahead.

“Oh. Sorry to hear about that, TOM. So, hmm, I guess you’ll be staying in the Waste now. Is that where I find you?”

Longer reply. Perhaps a minute or even two.

“For now, huh?” Al responds. “Seeing what develops in Jasper — not giving up on it. Okay, as long as I know where you are.” Then, glancing over his shoulder at the setup within, Al gives him some news that he thinks will cheer his superior boss up.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0402, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File, Temple of TILE

X’s and

Mr. Babyface’s big mouth on his huge head forms an O. He realizes he’s been staring at perfection all this time, volcano at top, familiar green green Xilted and its now grassy fields at the bottom. All answers lie here.

Al temporarily staying over at the Temple of TILE until they get a true custodian of the place was thinking along the same lines. Paradise found. His itchy and scratchy down there has suddenly and, to him, miraculously cleared up, even though it appears to be exacerbated especially by heat and it’s now basically the middle of the summer. Subtract the bit o’ heartburn which he’s not worried about (he’ll adjust his meal again tonight to further pinpoint the issue), he realizes he hadn’t been this healthy in years. From this center of power combining present past future, he wonders what’s next for Shelley, for Arthur and Edward, for Mr. Babyface and whoever shows up to be his companion and sounding board for more Big E/Big Schwa theories in the Kidd Tower, perhaps old lover Greg Ogden (who can still change into green green Gregg Oden when provoked), or maybe nephew Peter Ladd, a cousin of Lamb’s Paul and thus from a different mother, even though they both call Babyface Uncle.

Mr. Babyface has the impression that Shelley and her boat boys will be moving out of the top of Kidd Tower soon, tired of the limited space there. Soon, then, his dining room and his staring chair will be backed by (the map of) Zebrasil not Xilted, as he moves out of W (lower) and X (upper) back to Y (lower) and Z (upper). That’s his hope.

In other locations, Mr. Z has dropped his backpack and its many masks collected over both real and virtual continents in the second floor of Crooked, determined to make it a home too, as well as a space to further the TILE study group he wishes to jump start here in town. The standing yellow ickle just below is sure to follow; another Lamb — and a needed 4th color to balance the other 3, red green blue. We’ll soon see.

But Mr. Z has a journey to make first. He additionally senses he must unite public north and private south into one to make Constantynople and Constance Island as a whole truly fulfilled; be made a *constant*. Myrtle Beech must be visited. And he needs to get the lowdown on the whereabouts of his own cousin Zimmy.

But I forget. Mary, the third member of Lamb to add to Peter (different from Peter Ladd) and Paul, is already here! And so is hubby Pitch Darkly. They’re established at Darkly Manor, their old home from Collagesity back in the days, back when it was set up right next door to the sacred Rubi Woods. Through a transparent upstairs wall they could stare directly into the many linden trees, the cypress 1’s and 2’s, the eucalyptuses, and, most mysterious of course but only occasionally, perhaps only that one time, Unch himself, the fabled 200th tree of the forest, the one that has the ability to uproot itself and go walking about the place. Being a Linden creation and thus supposedly permanent, the forest is still there. Just not Collagesity. The also sacred 97/97/97 spot that once united Collagesity directly with VHC City on the same continent of Heterocera is protected from alteration, i.e., terraforming from the outside, the thing which ruined the parallel 97/97/97 in VHC City, psychically uncoupling the 2 burgs.

And what of Shelley? *She* is from that same diagonal line crossing the continent, its very tip top in fact in Hooktip, a suburb of VHC City — 135/135/135. Another perfection, it seems. Mr. Babyface is huffing and puffing on his recently purchased Blue Pennant tobacco by way of Hana Lei which replaced inferior Red Dragon, still staring, still preparing in his mind. Won’t be long now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0206, Constantynople, Heterocera, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Nautilus, Rank & File, Rubi^, Temple of TILE, VHC City^, Xilted