He continues to puff as he stares at the Big E on the now shared table, a ritual of sorts. He doesn’t know quite what to make of it still except that it’s perfect in its own way, and a worthy additional the TILE family of absolute glyphs. He stares at the green green sim of Xilted, thinking back to his own experiences there, 0202 as well and exactly 3 novels back. More perfection.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0202, Big Woods, Constantynople, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Nautilus, Xilted
Brngg brngg! Brngg Brngg!
Damn, she thought. And I was just starting to enjoy myself.
“Hallo?”
—–
She walks past the filing cabinets, A-M on the right, N-Z to the left. Or was A-L and M-Z? Anyway, the Big Boss said the file wasn’t in them. Check the dumpster, he said. Or was it a she?
—–
Alright I’m here, she thought. F-ck, gonna have to pay a visit to the chiropractor again after this. They knew they were dealing with an almost 67 year old woman, didn’t they?
“They” did. When she stood up out of the dumpster after finding no file there: retirement. Reassigned to inactivity on a different continent, her services needed no more. Another would have to be assigned.
new home
—–
“Hallo? Yes, Mr. (Mrs.?) Johnston. I’ll retrieve that file posthaste.” Good back, he (she?) noticed when hiring. Good legs. She’ll do swell.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0201, Back Rooms, Heterocera, Omega, Southern, The Cross
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.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0116, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland+
The moment TILE got real.
“Green, Red! Come over here! We found something!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0042, 0111, Back Rooms, Europe, Google Street View, Siberia
Batty Man stared at Shakespeare staring at the phone whilst sidekick Superduper Guy read a book about squirrels in the distance. Bored out of his gourd, he decided to at least *pretend* something was happening. “Brrng brrng,” issued a noise from his mouth that was suppose to be the phone ringing. “Uh oh, better get that Shakey,” and he leaned over and picked up the red receiver.
“Antarctica!?” he yelled when the pretend person gave him imaginary information from the other side. “And maybe New Zealand ta boot!? WELLL. We better leap into action!” Shakespeare, who was only a head to begin with, flipped his lid with the news. A couple of buttons pressed in the resulting neck stump and the secret bookcase door slid open — ‘nother one.
“Tell me, Oh Batty One,” spoke Super over to his superior superhero boss before sliding down. “Is this mission really on the up and up or is this like all the other ones?”
“We’ll see!” and he went down first. Oh well, Superduper Guy consoled himself. At least it’s summer in New Zealand. If we can just make it through Antarctica.
“To the pole!” Batty Man cried, pointing forward after they hopped into the car, making Superduper Guy imagine he was sliding back up the pole behind him instead, back to the cozy fire and his interesting book. He’d just reached the chapter about flying squirrels when the “call” came in. Now he may never know how they pull it off. But he had his orders.
“Sure, whatever,” he answered the boss and started the mobile, letting it warm up a bit since the old thing was in desperate need of a tune up. And perhaps an engine overhaul. “Penguin this time I’m assuming!” he yell-guessed about the arch-villian they were dealing with over the roaring, sputtering engine.
“Maybe Penguin *and* Joker!” answered the boss. “They’re often in league with each other, being from the same New Jersey township!”
“So I’ve heard!” And with this they zoomed out of the Bat Cave and into the World of Man. Everyone within a 500 meter radius heard the noisy piece of junk leave. Like with any group of neighbors they’ve had down through the years, most were glad to see them go for a while. The arrogant pricks.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0109, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland+
He wouldn’t reach out to him if it weren’t desperate times. “I need your help, Cpt. Americus, with these two loud mouth *goof* balls I’m currently house sitting for. The manor should be mine — *will* be mine. Are you in, wannabe superhero? Or are you out?”
“Let me finish this bucket of grey matter chicken and I’ll be able to decide,” he requests, and takes another bite. Slow chews. Sloooww.
There, he can feel it working again. His brain.
“Count me in,” he said as the last bit of gristle disappeared into his mouth, also the last of the magically produced chicken. Oh look. A whole new batch of pieces to consume when he looks down again. The Mann could be waiting a while. He’d forgotten about the bottomless bucket, an isolated superpower.
“Hold on, I suddenly forgot what we were talking about; remind me of the deal again?” he said as the munching and crunching began anew.
“Never mind Cpt.,” The Mann decided. “I’ll have to get back to you — another meeting, you see.” He didn’t plan to get back to him. This part of the search was to be closed up like an abandoned dangerous mine with its own bottomless pit.
—–
“Spaced Ghost,” he said to the next. “You’ve been with us since before the beginning, it seems. Surely *you* understand the power I desire. You can be there too. Sitting alongside me… and Parasol.” The Mann wasn’t quite sure how Spaced Ghost was young again, since his son Baker Bloch was nearing 67 years old now. Had to be 95-100. But here he is, shiny cape and shiny teeth and youthful physique. He didn’t question it, though. He was told he resided at the Shakespear’s Club in Centre County PA. Maybe the location was magical and gave him youth. He’d heard about such things associated with places named for The Bard. Like that ghost town near Lordsburg NM (revitalized in novel 39).
But when he teleported in to the proffered landmark, the only club he could find was the one slung over Young Spaced Ghost’s shoulder, as in a vintage Shakespear Gary Player Black Knight #2 Wood from the 1970s.
“I liked this place because they had a picture of me up on the wall there,” he started. “Don’t know when it was replaced by these collages or whatever they are.” He stared at one called “Doc’s Art”, wondering what it meant and the technique used.
“Yeah, sorry about that, Spaced Ghost. But about the deal…”
“Me and Zorak and Moltar — all 3 of us together. Boy I miss those days. Ghost Planet.” He sighs.
“So… about those nincompoops I’m dealing with,” directed The Mann again. “The Dynamic Du–”
“Regaltown: gone,” Spaced Ghost continued with the nostalgic lamenting. “Horns of Hatton: energy dissipated. We don’t have much left in Our Second Lyfe to cling on to. Might as well all pack up and head to the Red Dead Planet. Maybe we can make it into another Ghost Planet or something. We’ve already had several tries. I guess you’ve heard about them. Libra Neptune, the owner of the course I’m heading to after this. St. Dennis — son Scorpio Pluto told me all about it. Said they got there through a streetcar and he hadn’t heard back in a while. Said he’s ready to go over too once the portal’s stabilized; sell the golf course here and then recreate it over there in a better way.”
St. Dennis? The Mann thought. Portal? Suddenly he had more to mull over than revenge on some old, irritating neighbors. A whole new world was opening up.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0107, Corsica, Instabar, Jeogeot, Midlands, New Mexico, Pennsylvania, RDR2
“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?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0106, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland+
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.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0105, Fruity Islands, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland+
There’s also what I’ve labelled a blue room and a red room about the place, but let’s start with the yellow or golden one, central in several ways. Tania, a Valentine’s gift from Gladly in days gone by, stares at a computer screen depicting a Rainbow Sphere twirling merrily in on itself. Makes her think of Christmas and her maw. Golden bars stacked on a two tier table beside her. Small sofa with Saints style fleur-de-lis decorated throw pillows behind her of the same color. Her dress is also kind of the same hue. She sits in the middle of the manor, unobserved. The building she’s in twirls in on itself all around her too. One named Wayne, although the description says Wayen. Tania’s boss was never the best of spellers. Plumb pitiful actually, but don’t bring it up to her face or you may get a smack. So this is where we’ll begin.
The Maebaleia continent here is still relevant in Our Second Lyfe. So is Jeogeot, Heterocera, Sansara, Nautilus, Corsica, Gaeta V, Zindra, and, heck, don’t get me started about the various Bellisseria ones, as large now as all the original ones I’ve just listed combined I would suppose. Like Atlantis Rising — again in the middle of it all or between the 2 mainland hemispheres, linking them up in fact. Azores greatly expanded in relative scale.
Her replacement Patricia, a St. Patrick’s gift also from the past, arrives at the Secret Door Bookshelf waiting her turn. Not yet.
Still thinking of Xmas, she changes the screen. She replaces a beloved ornament named Girly Santa with a shiny new train, golden in hue as well up front, the place she decided it would poke out of the tree’s innards.
Her user found it in the woods. Just waiting for him. It turns a Christmas Tree into a Winter Tree proper, extending its life to, say, Arbor Day or thereabouts, he figures. Or at least March 17th.
Thanks “Bigfoot”!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0101, Concreek, Frank Park, Haze County, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland+, Whitehead Crossing
They’d found it at the bottom of the sea just north of the boat house where she was staying. An Anton avatar was there in the Anson sim — so close of a name it couldn’t be an accident. Spiderwebs covered this orange version of a VW Beetle but she knew it was the same. Had to be. Someone was playing Grand Theft Auto in Our Second Lyfe and it all led up to this place. Shoes inside, she recalled. Of a ruby variety. Stolen as well.
Roger Pine Ridge kept looking at the flickering white glow beneath the water that he knew was Anton. Shoes stolen; mission accomplished. Like finding the ruby slippers of Oz, he thought. Anorexia’s gonna be pissed off as hell.
He looked over at the green robed woman beside him, face harshly illuminated by the glare of the flashlight she held. Scars. “I’m just waiting for the significant other to finish up inside,” he explained from his *self named* chair.. “How about you?”
—–
Cyberpaperdoll walks out of Fae’s Boat House with 50,000 lindens in hand.
“Come on, Biker,” she said just above a whisper toward the closest Pine Ridge chair. “Time to go.”
“Don’t forgot to sign the guestbook out there!” Jim the Pirate Bartender called from within, a request they most definitely ignored while leaving.
I should have kept the name Kelp, she pondered while still staring at the pirate ship in the bay from the balcony of the big white empty house. The owner, Shippe, *must* be the same as Jim the Bastard Pirate from back in those days. Too coincidental (once more). And as Anton is likewise close to Anson, so her own chosen nickname at the time, Kelp, is to Kulp, as in Nancy Kulp as in plain Miss Jane from the “Beverly Hillbillies” TV series, replaced by similarly plain Miss Janet in Grand Theft Auto, Ski Inn bar parallel. The one who woke up Philip Strevor to who he really is.
Apparently the opposite happened to his partner-in-crime Marion Harding back in the past which may be the same as the present. From the same deck she sat on and read her book of spooky stories in the dark one year later, he dove into the sea that represents the unconscious, intent on finding the vanished auto that was his little Bug. Where did it go? Back to the beginning of this here photo-novel? Think, June Bug, think!
Then she realized: Chef-Inspector Petty would know about Anson. He was there with Baker Bloch when the original auto was found. He’d probably have records of it in his files.
Now to figure out where he ran his private dick nighttime business in Aisle of Palms. In Perch Restaurant as well? Another 2n1? So many questions, but we’re still indeed nearing the very end of the thing.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0702, Big Woods, GTA, Jeogeot, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Nautilus City
Sunklands 