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

ML Gazebo 91

A wall. Indicating my time in Constants may be limited, despite the name. And not a really pretty wall at that. But I, of course, have tricks to get around it.

There’s Falmouth Gallery! Is it so ugly that you have to hide? Moard (original creator) would not be proud. I think it’s bea-u-ti-ful.

After taking the picture, Mr. Z gets up from the chair and continues his journey intent on finding cousin Zimmy and his maw before sunset, er, sunrise if possible. Word.

—–

Truth of the matter exposed, he soon made his way into the center of Constantynople, unknowingly walking right by the stairs that would take him to his new apartment. And, perhaps more importantly, the new meeting place for the TILE study group. Had to happen.

“Hooray, he’s here!” cried the standing yellow porch ickle upon seeing him enter the square.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0512, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File, Wild West

00360512

Now Arthur finds a similar meditation pillow on which to sit. Shining 01, he thinks. Is he a Shining 02?

He must be. They are one beneath it all, after all (he believed). Soulmates. Counterparts. Two paths meet and unite. If not in the moment — separate for a bit again. She’s over exploring the witch house. She’d found something. A witch. An old hag with real long hair wearing a gimmicky orange and black Halloween costume, although she said that’s just part of her schtick.

“Do you understand… the pages?” she asked before Shelley could ask about the same — jumping ahead of her. Unusual for Shelley. Could this be? Nah, couldn’t.

Shelley looked at them flying about above the table and a little beyond on all sides. Almost in danger of hitting her face but she kept steady, not blinking. She instinctively knew this wouldn’t hurt her. Ahh, she recalls Jem in her eyes, checking the blog again, making sure she’s up to speed. Jem had this power. Edward Daigle asked her to shut it down so he could be *safe*. She’ll not make that error between her legs here. Conception. “Arkansaw?” she tried with some assurance. She stared over at the eyes. Umbrella too, she recognized. This was her.

Arthur walked into the room, having finished his own exploration once more. The pages fell like cards out of the air, fluttering down to the ground and on the table before her — them. The witch was gone. The witch had never been here. Physically. She picked up a piece, studying. It contained a picture of a prism, white light leading in, colored out. 2 parts, 2 1/2s. She looked at Arthur. He remained refracted, unable to unite the various selves as whole. She — different now. She had seen herself in the future. Sitting here. Dealing with these cards, the life she’s led. It all led to here. Purity, happiness… maybe. God at least.

She saw shadows of a pained face on Arthur’s face, amplifying the shock that was already there. Yes, he saw pages/paper flying in the air of their own accord, then the spell was broken. The Ouija planchette beneath them had also ceased moving.

Stopped on Z; she knew where to head next. All the way back to the beginning which would then become the new end.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0512, Heterocera, Pond District^, VHC City^

Z to A (257)

Retirement presents all around; manual: done.

We begin again, *tired* but then fresh and newborn.


“Tiinaaaaa!”

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2022-2021 WINTER”!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0031, 0616, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West

The Abyss

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0031, 0615, Lands End, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West

boxed in (no 257)

I wonder if Mr. Z ever made it off Tina’s islet over there,” she ponders, sipping on a cocktebeerl to try to soothe her still weak and rumbling stomach. Maybe we should start over and begin at that Art Box in the sim’s corner — see what else leads into the island. Perhaps fresh characters? May be too late for that. Only about 5 or 6 posts left in this here photo-novel, 31 in a series of… 31 in a series… *siiighh*.

She thinks back to the calendar opened up to February and what lay underneath it. Red. Lots of red. She spills her guts over the deck’s railing, carefully avoiding the flowers this time.

Later with her one good eye, she decides to find out.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0031, 0612, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West

00310609

Backpack laden Mr. Z arrives at the islet home of Tina and Louise but decides not to bother them, knowing he must get to Alan and Hale on the main island before the worst of the storm hits. He takes one more look from his center position on their mooring deck before moving on, a closer lightning flash bristling the hairs on the back of his neck next to the mask that screams the most.

“Watch out!” it seems to say. The watch-over says watch over. Too late: he’d been spotted and then invited in for a spot of tea.

He soon learned that the girls remained friends but had split up as a couple, with Tina keeping the main house and Louise sleeping over there in the former guest treehouse, at least until she could find new digs, perhaps with the man they called the Professor up in Trueblood, The One, she sometimes called him. Tina technically owned the property after all — Louise felt she had no choice except to take the smaller place. The black haired beauty invited Mr. Z to stay with her, jumping the gun on her former redheaded and at least equally stunning roomie. She wasn’t going to accept second place no longer.

Later at the treehouse they lit a joint and got down to it. Scrabble. After smoking Mr. Z admitted to Louise that redheads were more his bag and that he was disappointed that Tina hadn’t invited him to stay in the main house instead. After turning over the scrabble board and spilling the pieces all about the place, she slapped him and said he could go to his Tina, his dream girl, and that she had the Professor after all, no matter how distant he was from her in the moment, those many sims to cross to get to him up in Trueblood. She could wait until they’re together, PHEH. “Out… OUT!” she screamed, waking up the screaming mask who did likewise. “Told you so!” it seemed to say as another lighting storm started on the coast.

Next up: Alan and Hale and the attack of the howling Howell monkeys.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0031, 0609, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West

I Gilligan.

“Get off my bag. Quit copying my look.”

“No *you’re* copying *my* look.” Snickers all around before parting.

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. He could fully see him now as a 3 dimensional person and not mere flat illusion, but it was too late. “Careful in your journeys, mister!” he decided to call as the other continued down the far side. “I’ll be alright!” came the more distant reply, also knowing what the other was thinking as he started to smell the rain and ozone.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0031, 0608, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West

research

“You have wonky eyes.”

“You’re one to talk.”

—–

“6 o’clock?! I’ve got to get back for supper. Butter get those flapjacks on, witches!

—–

“Soup’s up!” Fisher the fry cook called.

“That’s yours, Groover,” Olive Oylstick reminded her dinner companion, wondering where her pancakes were. Damn witches.

“Oh GROOVEY!” Shut up, is all she could think with rumbling stomach.

—–

Picking out a new favorite stuffed animal at the pet shop, one without wonky eyes. She doesn’t want to be reminded! She stares straight at them to keep aligned.

—–

She brought Groover back to wait at the Blue Airfield (in Gray?) for her cousins Zimmy and Mr Z, all three born from another mother. They never showed up. “Just like pancakes,” she groused, looking over at the monster everyone in certain parts of various continents were talking about. Knob Noster, some called it. “You know this means we’ll have to stay in the homeless shelter again, Groovey… Groover.”

“I don’t care,” he said, patting his full stomach again. One meal at a time for him, one meal, one day, one week without a 7th to show up. She could put an end to it; turn him in. But she needs a pillow tonight, apparently. She glances one last time out the window to see if any more ships were flying in. Ghosts again.

—–

“Hey stop reaching. *My* wine. Now get behind me and fall asleep so I can too, pheh.”

“Wonder who the new bozo is over there.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0507, Ashton Village, Bellisaria, Color Sims^, Continent 02, Sansara

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Toothpick’s best friend Mr. Z’s other cousin from another mother, Stumpy, decides he must keep a TILE presence in largely resistant Black Ice. This more hidden building was perfect. Shame about Zimmy’s place on the strip, he laments. Zimmy is the middle cousin of the “3 Amigos”, as they have called themselves since childhood. 1st Mr. Z popped out of Zelda Taylor in ’26, then Zimmy from Daphne Cunningham in ’28, then, lastly, Stumpy here from Barbara Gourdneck of Arkansaw, Kansas in ’32 or thereabouts. 3 mothers, 3 cousins, 3 amigos for life. Back to our continuing story and dialog and such…

Stumpy decides it’s time. No more f-ing around with the heads. He must make a choice. He must *face* the world full on.

It’s really surprising that he can see at all. Or taste or smell or hear. But he’s not touchy about the heckles from the lucky ones who were born with full blown heads. Not since Alcatraz. Or was it Gettysburg. Maybe Phil would know.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0210, Black Ice, NWES Island^

wedding 01

There he is, the poor bastard. Taking his troubles out by fishing at the canal and drinking that Bud beer he likes. But it’s my job as site manager of Moe’s to clean him up and get him ready for marriage. I don’t know why but it was in the job description: get Toothpick ready to marry his sister on Wednesday’s Thursday Friday’s Saturday Tuesday. Munday, in other words, the 6th and final day of the week. Marrying day. At St. Mary’s. Should have been the Temple (of TILE) but it is what it is. Carrcassonnee wasn’t ready; the boss couldn’t get Carr started, har. And so we are only left with 6 instead of 7, but still a Happy Day indeed, or it is suppose to be. By eliminating the 7th, we make sure the brother-sister thing is okay with the higher authorities, meaning God and his choirs of angels and demons alike.

—–

“Where’s Mr. Z?” he asked later at Moe’s where I helped him put on his suspenders one strap at a time.

“Traveling,” I answered. “Out on the continents gathering more masks.”

“Oh. Then I guess Maw won’t be showing up either.”

“No. I’m your best man now.” 2nd strap done. Now to commence with the snaggly tooth combing and Neptune demo hair brushing.

“I expect a postcard will do from them.”

“On with the show,” I say as I lead him to the sink behind the bar counter. “You still have your sister and that’s the important thing.”

“Really?” he declared. “After the wedding — will I really have a twin sister left either?”

I couldn’t answer that. It was up to the love birds and the alchemical gods to decide that. The marriage is what it is. He removes his toothpick and applies comb to teeth as I brush his hair with paste.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0703, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, Marwood, Neptune, NWES Island^