Tag Archives: Newt/Windmill Man^*++&

August 29, 2021 · 7:41 am

no man is an island

I think I’m going to like this peninsula. A lot.

—–

Boy my neck has sure been bothering me lately. Must be the lingering effects of Kolya and his trip to Anastasia, the damned place. Controller my big old ass. Papers piling up, pheh. Always sleepy, constantly nodding off. (Alysha) needs to come *here* and try what she does there. Wouldn’t make it.

But Windmill Man, actual name still being processed, knows that he loves her nevertheless, just like Kolya. Even moreso, since he can see the future clearer. He is the ONE. He is the whitehead in da woods. 1 year and 3 months. He can do it. The diagonal linking East and West will be fulfilled, reality connected to another reality inside it, with one blending into ANOTHER. Love, most likely. Death too, if not bodily. But what, exactly, *is* the body. The neck’s calmed down now. He recalls something about Jasper.

These ruins hold stories. And so close to his castle too. Just up the ridge.

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August 28, 2021 · 10:28 am

“6 miles and 7 seconds” (track 2?)

I *just* missed a performance of the Rolling Joints at this here local bar, but the owner, one Greg Ogden (*not* Oden, he insisted; and only the 1 “g” in the first name and not 2 as well) assured me they would return. In the meantime, he assuaged, we have their many records to enjoy, including the essential double album “Pricky Fingers/Let Them Bleed”, which he’s about to play here after removing the 2 discs of wax from their sleeves. “Gotta get in the right mood,” he says while standing pretty still, trying not to sway to the 1st track (“Hearts of Spades”) that he already hears in his head. He’s trying to clear it. The sound should be immediate and impactful with no echo.

Later I found out that Greg use to be called Rooster by the locals on account of his red hair and sometimes red outfit. It made me wonder.

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August 28, 2021 · 8:47 am

new neighbors

“You know that’s (*yawn*), my castle up there, Hoppy (stretches arms). This place is soo relaxing.”

Windmill Man, named to be changed soon, realizes he has a lot of time to learn the ins and outs of this here Rooster’s Peninsula, since he plans to stay a while. Does this mean the end of Fordham’s Collagesity down in Lower Austra? Could be. He must confer with town leader Jeffrey Phillips and right hand man Man About Time soon. Couple of weeks. But first…

… the Prog Rock museum down at the neck of the peninsula, and where Shelley (daughter?) recently woke up Jacob I. and allowed him to return. The sleeper has awoken; Roost Never Sleeps.

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August 27, 2021 · 10:06 am

revealed (glory holes redux)

Now back to Bellisseria to investigate the other Star family. This was the spot on the new diagonal where it would all start, I know that now. Project Endgame has begun.

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August 27, 2021 · 9:18 am

two Stars (murder) mystery

Alysha wears red shoes but she’s lost one recently. And the one that remains is too big for her foot, like she has a man’s feet. Good Guy… could be a reference to Texas County Oklahoma on the panhandle. Or perhaps Indiana Pennsylvania. A good guy was murdered. Always is.

A man moves into view as I try to take another shot of the taped off scene but turns out to be a woman herself. Two Stars now just in this one spot. Many stars, then! (since the neighbors are also Stars; will investigate that very soon) These appear to be twins of sorts, like 2 1/2s of one, maybe user? Hmm. I say this because the second’s profile is pretty barren, like he depends on the first, the female. A dependent. An alt.

And the woman is lined off herself as you can see. Enclosed. She becomes the central mystery.

A little red friend lives in her hair.

No use in hanging around here hiding behind palms. I have (her) picks to investigate! Heavy on one location.

I didn’t really know what I was looking at but I’d been here before. Chouchou — like the Ur-iginal parent, or maybe even both of them (!).

This is the White Palace (shiver).

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August 27, 2021 · 8:30 am

end/beginning

He turned one last time to the door before leaving.

—–

“No more shells,” he rather commanded to Alysha in a role switcheroo, fed up with being treated like a toddler. “*I* am real (this time).”

“Okay.” But of course the holes remained. Glory could only be glimpsed, but maybe it was worth it. Afterwards his neck hurt like a mo fo, but he doesn’t think it is about what they did.

Alysha ponders afterwards: Kolya *can* get better. If he changes into Windmill, hmm. Bit older, but what can you do? And then the diagonal can be traced all the way to Maebaleia — where we are now.  Self image.

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August 19, 2021 · 8:06 am

00280201

Ripped Windmill Man, as they called him, was assigned the role of night guard for Ruby the green grey Alien, currently holed up down at the fire station for further protection from those darn psychic kids. Half policeman half army man, he was more than equipped to fulfill the duty — overqualified, Ben Bolt said, eager to get the job as well to support his own troupe of kids, 2 psychic and 1 mundane from an early marriage (the former Mary Bolt, now married to Alfred Reynolds the shoe cobbler). His ripped body wouldn’t fit through some of the doors there, he argued. His half policeman half army man training made him all bastard, he tried. Jim Wells, father of Alice Wells who Ben was also trying to woo along with the job, would have none of it. “Windmill’s a fine man. He has 3 ripped bodies that he can strip like a snake or lizard or something if needed to fit through any door.  It’s *just* a night guard job, Ben,” he said to a potential son-in-law he didn’t want. “Maybe you should aim a little higher, hmm? How about — manager of the day care; help keep an eye on those psychic toddlers, make sure they don’t get into trouble *too* early.” Because Jim Wells knew it would come to trouble later on as they aged a bit, spontaneous fires being only one potential hazard. “The firemen, the policemen, heck the *army* men can’t do anything about them once they reach a certain age, some say 5, others: 7. Jim Wells realized he was making a case for ripped Windmill Man to take the day care managerial job instead of Ben Bolt and stopped. His future son-in-law — if it came to that — would *not* be a night guard at the fire station, no way Jose.

Ripped Windmill Man stripped his 2 outer ripped bodies so he could fit comfortably through the door and look in on Ruby. “Everything all right in here?” he asked, checking the corners of the fire station’s storage room again for bugs. He was sensing something but didn’t know what.

“Tell him everything is okay,” commanded unseen Billie Jean Kidd from the side. Turns out Ruby had already been compromised and the firemen, the policemen, the army men couldn’t do a darn thing about it.

(to be continued)

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August 13, 2021 · 7:05 pm

00280108

“It all begins with windmills,” he declares…

“… and Mouse.”

“Hi, I’m Windmill Man and I’m proud and pleased to be adding my story to the flow of this photo-novel, which I believe is 28 in a series of… well, something or another. Kolya is a friend of mine, we can say; shared a room together at Mouse Manor, haha. Expression never changed, poor lad, no matter how he was feeling inside. Couldn’t smile, you see. Well… I *can*. See?

“Where to start, where to start? Windmills… oh I already declared that. Bottom of one of the newest subcontinents, you know. River in the center running all the way to Maebaleia; connecting East and West at last, and put in there that I capitalized east and west to emphasize that they are hemispheres: 1/2 worlds if you will. This was *important*.

“Brady Stream was the sim I’m talking about. Start of this new land, this finishing connector. Now I’m sure a lot of you readers from the outside world are shaking your head and saying, big deal, it’s just a virtual reality, one of many now, right? This one’s a little different, though, in that you have *two* worlds secretly combining into one. You’ve read about it here many times now: the simultaneous (as it were) beginning of Lime World and World of Lemon, one — the recognized one — coming from the West and the other, the one not fully known but actually more powerful, from the East. And now these two directions are linked, see.

“Windmills… let’s just go back down into the world and start at the stream.

“There I am. At the most central one.

“And also in the center of the sim. This is where it starts.”

(to be continued)

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August 13, 2021 · 10:14 am

visitors

“What’s your name, stranger?” Stu (today) Umbriel was checking out the new bar in town, this *Dinah’s*, switched from Moe’s. Moe wasn’t around any longer.

“You can just call me… Windmill Man.”

Stu looked over again with this, noted the propeller beanie on his balding skull. “Hmmm,” he thought internally. “Cool,” he said externally. “My aunt lived in a windmill.”

“So do I,” the stranger shot back, and took a long hard drink of his jungle juice produced by bartender Stumpy (hi Stumpy!) just seconds before, emptying the 1/2 coconut. “Next!” he called over to him, clanking the hollow object on the counter loudly. He didn’t even have time to wash his hands.

—–

A mysterious fern floated into town, hoping to take over someone’s mind.

No, not that one, although that’s also a fern and also floated into town. Just chance (insert nervous laugh). We’re talking about Fern Stalin, who came in on a Messenger Featherfloater from over in Brilliant, one of the most interesting rim islands of Maebaleia along with its twin of sorts: Mistery, the name a combination of mystery and misery. And it was! We should return.

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