Heading back inside.
Tag Archives: NODAL
German
He finally thinks to go inside somewhere and tell someone about the accident, the terrain shift. Paul is dead! it appeared. And Ringo. And John. Especially John, it seemed, deeper in the dirt than the others. He’ll remain in the Cavern now, trapped in the past forever and ever… And the future, as it turns out.
“Can I speak to the manager in charge?” Newt said to Sue Anne the counter attendant of the moment.
“How about the owner?” She indicated Evelyn Hart (“Rag Doll”) to her right, his left.
She was already pondering possibilities, seeing his own name above his head. Newt, she thinks. Odd — peculiar. Like the sim I — I mean, everyone here in town… controls. SODA. “Order something,” she decided to request, staring straight into his eyes over 01 02 03 04 gullies. “Some kind of drink. A soda perhaps.” Would he? Did he know the ultimate secret?
—–
Afterwards, he tried to isolate everything associated with the mysterious crash she talked about. 309 prims total in the linked objects, including this wagon that just happened to have formerly appeared in Squared Root City over in Nautilus, a town now defunct as we know from the last photo-novel (37). He recalled he use to be able to sit on these steps. Here:
https://bakerbloch.com/2021/11/21/00300301/
Whatever happened to the younger guy with the pure white hair? he wonders, thinking back. And then remembers the truth, the transformation.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0313, Blue Mountain, County Park, Haze County, Jeogeot, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Newtown+, Squared Root City-
00380312
She checked the TV guide in this limited satellite viewing of a place but nothing else came on until the sun rose up at 6. 5 more minutes. Edward was finished with the 1st chapter of the book both in reality and irreality. They needed to unwind after all the excitement, thus the cartoons. Bugs Bunny, Ren and Stimpy, and then the most controversial to end. Adventure Time. “Too Young”. Lemongrab was a trip! He makes a mental note to look up more on the character after their excursion into the sea today. Goal: Galapagos Islands. Or Azore Islands, whichever appear first on the screen. If the latter, however, they’d have to watch out for Keith, make sure he didn’t see them together. Shelley was dressed in her usual sun blocking duds which were the same as scrubs. Loose fitting. Ducks all over the top. When she appeared in them after Adventure Time, somewhat nearsighted Edward thought they were lemons and that she’d donned the outfit as a joke. But it was just her usual for maritime adventures.
An image reappeared on the formerly static filled screen. Crack of dawn, yay! Now they can continue watching themselves. There they are out on the beach, choosing one of the 2 available boats, her “boys”. Edward or Arthur? she pondered in front of their noses. Both the same length if slightly different shades of gray. She could have both! She climbs in one then climbs in another. Yes, these will do fine.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0312, Amazon, Oooo
Mountain Man
He put her in the corner by the stove while he stood in the opposite one. The sparkles indicated a presents, the here and the now. Aluminum can. She turned and kissed him full on the lips. How could this be? He was 2 dimensional, she was 3. Plus they were about 10 feet apart. Yet here we are, talking about it.
“Is this how you *met*?” Thomas Boyy queried from her desk in her hovel as he illuminated the scene. 2:02 now. He was spilling.
“No. We met a long time ago. August 2016.”
She counted it out. “That’s almost 7 years ago. And she hasn’t gotten old? This *toy*?”
Through him, I thought about slightly earlier. Woods. Platform. “No,” I said, going within. “Not old… besides the 7 year part.”
“No time for jokes here, young man. Spill more!” She checked her watch. Fate dictated they wrap up quickly. She was at the top of the mountain, him: the side; only halfway up still. It was an abyss in there. 31 to 32. Retired
So he illuminated some more, knowing that was the only way to get out of here in one pieces.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0304, Blue Mountain, City Park, County Park, Lands End, Nautilus, The Waste+, Toy Avatars
Iowa (Gully Gee!)
It was a Warm Morning when the object crashed into the future site of itself. Early May I believe. THUD!!! The noise attracted the attention of a sore backed nearby hiker, walking in a different dimension but still able to hear because of the loudness. And then the straight line was manufactured backwards for close to a football field in length over 01 02 03 04 gullies. Alvin Straight. Motocyclone. Cylinder Rodman. We continued…
Warm Morning Crash Site: turn here!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0301, Blue Mountain, County Park, Iowa
lordy lordy lordy
“Nah, I think you boys have it backwards. Go back and check. Pull Ted in with you this time, John, since he has the better peepers. Go up the stairs or down the stairs or however you do it — together.”
“Down,” said John to this. “I always head down.”
“Well there you go.” And Al was finished with the story for now and waved them outta his palatial office. Tom showing up in 1/2 an hour, one the more uppity uppers. He had to prepare, emotionally as well as mentally. Brace himself for what is coming.
The truck that had turned lime green in the meantime arrived at the Dorr’s house in Tyrone, New Mexico just south of mural filled Silver City where it was rented day before yesterday’s last week by the Horns.
Finally united for a common cause, they cautiously made their way up to the azure blue front door, Horns of Hatton activated. They paused at the bushes; peered around the corner to see what Good they were up against. The portal opened creakily from the other side. They turned away just in the nick of time. They noticed one of the angels was sight challenged — in shadow — while the other with his big, lidless eyes definitely could see the truck if not them. They had made a huge mistake in driving it here.
“Dude,” read that one to the other in the doorway. “Not Dud. Al was right. It wasn’t the *past*. It’s the *future*.”
The Devil couldn’t get away with it this time. He’d have to exit Grant. He took depossession of the body. Grant was saved by the powers of the door. Of the Dorrs.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0209, Google Street View, Illinois, New Mexico, The Waste+
00380206
She barely made eye contact with him to acknowledge his presence. Cyberpunks, hmph, he thought. “Business good tonight, Lexi? Selling many sodas on top of the regular alcohol?”
“Whoa whoa there daddy blow. One question at a time. Try again.” She kept dancing to the beat that hadn’t started yet. DJ was still relaxing and chilling and drinking before the gig. While she had the time.
He skipped to the most important one. “Have — you — sold — many — *sodas*? On top of the alcohol which I know will do good,” he sped up.
“Two Hills,” she instead said.
“W-what?”
“Two Hills.” And she pointed to the left, the opposite way of the horn.
“Oh yeah. It’s a promotion.” He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing it could have been something else. Too early! “Now back–”
“Why does there have to be two?”
“*You* have two,” he wanted to answer, but then thought better of it. Maybe she didn’t. Was she a girl or boy? He never figured it out. I guessed she’d have them either way — doesn’t matter.
His lemon-lime drink awaited at the table. He looked around, seeing a lot of soda imbibing with his own two peepers. One over in the far corner had a Dr. Peeper. He resisted the urge to rush over there and swat it outta his hand, causing a scene. No scenes, his brother Benny Right Horn warned. “Tonight must go nothing wrong.” His words, not mine, Jer thought. That’s why he’s not here. Too drunk and coked up to make a proper showing of himself instead of a proper spectacle of himself. Typical. Cokeheads not allowed.
“Anyway,” he finally answered Lexi the bartender, still dancing to an imaginary beat or a beat from the future perhaps that only she can hear with her futuristic head and ears, “it kind of goes along with the idea of doubling the fun or doubling the pleasure.” He locked briefly with her sci-fi black within green within blue eyes. She was finished with him, he knew.
—–
He sat down beside her. The Hills came square to the camera, a horn curled against one of their cheeks.
“How is the wine?”
“Pretty tasty!” She downed another guzzle.
“Load up while you can. But not — too much. Take a swig of soda every now and then. People are watching.” He indicated the ads beside them. “Can’t let down the Hills.”
“Oh no.”
“Mike should be showing up soon.”
“And Pat,” she said. “I also invited Pat.”
“Oh boy.”
“Maybe. We don’t know!”
00380201
Another ghostly Knight was showing them around. You can never completely escape the energy of The Father, the Dark Lord some call him. Red Devil in Xian terms. At his urging, they fed the function-o-meter in front of them with small copper coins — no change there — to watch TV. The ever-present ectoplasm did the work it was paid for.
“Very popular group in the 21st Century,” he rattled about the fuzzy figures on the non-machine, off by one century but only a fraction off the truth in present time, this 8008.
“Name?” tested Baker Bloch, moonburned from the larger space between the flowers. At 6’8″ he was taller than the trees. And even though bigger than birds, the bees offered minimal shade because of their speed. The present Knight again wrongly assumed he was embarrassed because of his lack of knowledge about, well, *everything*. He wasn’t embarrassed. He was just from the far far past. Like we talked about before. We apparently are still in Osse, motor dropped long ago. Like we’ve been driving around a car with no engine for forever.
Knight finally answered Beethoven, with Roll Over dropped early on from the name — even produced an early poster to prove his point. He should be the one to turn red, Baker thought.
early poster, according to Knight
Then while rolling back up the poster to put it away again, ghostly Knight, one of many in the clone hive, said he was joking and that their actual name was SODA. Another joke? Turns out: not. As Baker Bloch checked around, this SODA group seemed to manifest everything here, including the mica table (perhaps ground 00), the chairs around it, the Cavern itself, the *town* itself. Taking up the whole of a sim called Newt. Like the man, the father (of Shelley Struthers). This is, in effect, where he was born, or at least the name. And certainly the group name gives us an important clue about what happened to our society as a whole, the flip flopping of animals and plants and probably minerals as well (we’ll check the rounded mica table for more tips on that later). And the bearded and mustachioed Moon above it all. The Dark Lord. Without any possibility of escape via a satellite of its own, a Moon for a Moon. Bendy knows. He may be more than just a cameo figure in this here photo-novel, 38 in a series of a lot.
“We successfully,” continued Knight, “made the name illegal, *forbidden*, beyond any even seductive poser could get to. Even the pharmacists had the hoods pulled over their eyes, duck-like.”
(to be continued)
00380108
“Heyy. Howdy! Welcome to 108. You must be the Golden Girl I’ve heard about.”
“Well,” I said. “My hair is golden for sure. Some say dirty blonde but I like the metal.”
“Who doesn’t, who doesn’t? Come on in. I have *so* many things to show you, Golden Girl! Mineral. Plant. Animal. You name it!”
“I think you just did.”
“Hee hee, you’re a bright one. A big bright piece of shinyy gold, yeahh.” He waves without speaking again. He’s fading.
—–
“I found this after the dream. He must have been from the Moon.”
“Or the *Moon* of the Moon,” spoke the old hag more wisely than me, per usual. Not a golden girl any longer but, ooh, once upon a time…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0108, Lower Austra, Wild West
00380106
She caught some of the discussion from her rocking chair while perusing the paper (“Decatur Herald”), words like Oklahoma, Geronimo, Olive, Slick. She gathered an oil spill in the Panhandle which was not all wrong while being, at the same time, not at all right. Not 1/2 and 1/2. How to put it?
Blah blah blah Canada. Blah blah blah Ossemotos. They really need to turn down the blasters over there, Gloria thought about the music booming one dock over, the party getting more raucous as nighttime approached. Penny was preparing for her surprise entrance up in downtown Nightsity, applying hot pink lipstick while yawning for no good, real reason, effects of that dratted, psychic mountainair again. *Not* Ossemotos, she realized as the lyrics “Dam dam Amsterdam” blocked the next passage of discussion, followed just as loud by “Dam dam Rotterdam,” and “Dam dam Beaverdam”. Osse-motors. As in ancient Nigerian oil port . *Motor*. She’d heard about it before through some military people she use to, ahem, date up in Dodgey City. And Zach Black was spilling his guts about it. Nigeria to Canada, Nigeria to Canada. Marines. But, most importantly, black gold. Texas tea. Texas Pete? “Texas Pete?!” she rather shouted through the boom. One of the two turned, the other being deaf.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0106, Lower Austra, Michigan, Wild West
Sunklands 