Tag Archives: NODAL

00420302

“I found this in the same county as White Stone, Hucka. Merry and Mary, just like in St. Merry’s (?) Church.”

“Follow up on that,” she requests. So I did. I talked to Pastor Ziegler about the weird conjunction.

—–

“That’s interesting it’s Mary Ball there as well.”

“As well?” I prompted.

“Yes. Mary Ball is the mother of George Washington. And it happens that it’s Pitch Darkly’s Mary’s maiden name too. Can’t be coincidence.”

“Again,” I replied.

“Especially since they also have a kid named George, come to think of it. Not sure how old the boy would be now. Maybe even a teenager?”

“He was growing up fast the last time I checked,” I agreed

“Anyway (*sigh*), this is certainly a mystery indeed. Another Virginia neck mystery.”

“First Susan and Shadow. Now this. Lively… variant names of both Pitch Penny and Catch Penny, inferring a battery in baseball. Balls are more lively than they use to be back in the dead ball era, before the death of Indian Ray Chapman via beaning and the cleaning up of (the ball and) the game, giving hitters the upper hand over pitchers (and catchers) from that day forward. Martyr, some say because of it.”

“I’m glad you are confiding all this to me,” spoke Pastor Stephan Ziegler of the 1st Church of St. Merry’s — yes, that’s the name — who seemed just happy to be part of the town story again. Aisle of Palms… stated he loves it in all its interesting twists and turns. I thought to myself that he’s probably just glad I didn’t instead go to Rev. Amos T. Sandman across the street at the rival Fries with Cheese Church with my insights — gives him the upper hand there as well. But of course Amos is rarely in the building because of the smell. Allergic to cheese of all things. And they built the church out of the material, as traditional states. No one can really stay there that long without wearing clothes pins on their noses, and so that became part of their traditional as well, part of ecclesiastical lore.

Fries with Cheese office manager Martha Lamb takes note of Baker’s exit from her second floor office window while getting ready to go home herself. She can free up the nostrils at last. Worst part of the job — everything else she loves, just like Stephan, who she perceives as a direct arch-rival, assuming that role for the mainly absent Reverend, she feels

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0302, Big Woods, Church of Ood, Fries with Cheese, Google Street View, Jeogeot, Virginia

00420216 (original shock)

And this is where we came in.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0216, ADC, HANA LEI

cyan dress, black hair: seems oh so familiar

“I’m afraid this is still 1961 guys. The little lady is going to have to sit elsewhere, hmm?”

“There. That’s better. What can I do you for today? Burgers?”

“No, nothing right now. We’ll order later when you have vegetables in salads,” commanded Wendy, appearing as if behind a shadow of a person instead of a real one.

“Suit yourself. My shift is over,” spoke Sarah. “Wanda will be over shortly to check on you. But I wouldn’t hold my breath on the vegetables. Have a nice day.” As she left with her tray of little burgers still untouched, Sarah glanced over at the space that would be a salad bar, currently occupied by a soda fountain and an ice cream counter. Sugar and especially meat would rule the day for a while, she knew. She’d worked in this here city long enough to understand that.

An Everly Brothers hit blared from the jukebox on the far side of the diner, perhaps “Cathy’s Clown”, their latest, as Wendy got down to business. “Soo… you said you know the whereabouts of the black man called Francis. Last seen here in Meat City.”

“The *negro* known as Francis,” rudely corrects Mathew, of a different color skin himself from the “norm”; obviously should have been more understanding of the situation. And why was he here with Susan in the first place?

Susan. Yes, that was her name.

(to be continued)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0212, Jeogeot, Meat City, NWES Island, Virginia

Luxembourg?

She was required to wear the hair at all times but she could change the outfit during off hours. Like now. Pink Hippo, lower reaches of Kangerootown over on the Omega continent, her new home of sorts. Where she decided to start the Wendy’s Hot Dog chain, at least until beau Jim Randolph Bastard Pirate reported back to her about the Red Dead planet. Hadn’t heard from him in weeks — probably dead in space, she determined, or crash landed on the planet at best with that rickety looking Humpty Dumpty ship of his. How right she was about the crash, but how wrong she was about the death. About to get eaten by alligators or shot by bandits (reader’s choice), he spotted a nearby fox and used a mod he’d installed just before entering the atmosphere to transfer his soul directly into it, switching over from his current body in immediate peril. Only till he could find another human one to inhabit. He watched from the new body as the teeth of the alligator sank in (or, in the other alternative death scenario, the bullets of the bandit sank in). He quickly scurried through the bush and away from the ghastly scene. Thank Gods for that mod. Actually, one of the God ones he installed upon recommendation of Atlantis High Priestess, who had lived in St. Dennis for a while, enough to know the advantages of God mode and attached mods in the “game.” Like bits for bytes.

Back to the Pink Hippo: Wendy had to decide by tomorrow whether to branch out her fledgling eating establishment to here in Kangarootown, about 5 sims west of the original store in Old Hen. She’d picked a central place in what you could call the burg’s downtown area. Now all she had to do was persuade the owner to give her the site. You can see it here — the red topped one. Just like Wendy. She liked that about the spot. Fate, she pondered.

Newt walked in and sat down beside her, a 67 year old recently retired German hailing from Brussels. Or so he said. “Buy you a drink, Wendy?” How does he know my name? she wondered.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0207, Kangerootown+, Omega, RDR2, The Cross

00420202

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.

*Wait*.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0202, Big Woods, Constantynople, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Nautilus, Xilted

there’s levels to it

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?)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0201, Back Rooms, Heterocera, Omega, Southern, The Cross

Allred

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.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0116, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland+

ALSO inside a polar circle:

The moment TILE got real.

“Green, Red! Come over here! We found something!”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0042, 0111, Back Rooms, Europe, Google Street View, Siberia

how it began

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.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0109, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland+

00420107 (allies?)

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)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0107, Corsica, Instabar, Jeogeot, Midlands, New Mexico, Pennsylvania, RDR2