I think I’ve found what I needed to this morning. An unregistered Nautilus (continent) gallery. Hypercubes.
My opposite Franklin doesn’t quite fit in here yet. Too large. We’re working on it.
(to be continued)
Tag Archives: NODAL
00340613
“We’re struggling to get to the end, W.”
“We’ll make it — have confidence. Put the kids on the back lawn of the castle and have them stare at the newly resurrected Roost Never Sleeps up on the peninsula’s high peak. Make *that* the focus from now on. You are doing well, swell even. Don’t worry about the tangents. You are focused on the peninsula and that is good. This is how it’s suppose to be.”
“Sorry about your beach,” I decided to insert. Wheeler — W. — had been kicked off for head butting Newt (and visa versa), but a different kind involving the latter more than the former. Darn postmodern beachwear! But there’s more places to hang out here and stay true to the location. Now to those kids…
“It’s just as big as the old one, maybe bigger.” Liz Struthers, proposed present and future daughter, grandkid to Newt and Wheeler, I mean, Wheeler and Newt. “I’ve seen pictures.”
“Center of Our Nautilus for sure,” spoke projected mother Shelley Struthers. “Great Summer Project!”
“Summer?” questioned the little one who sprang from her loins in a future time, probably about as far up as Wheeler went to retrieve that bathing suit. Liz indicated this was Fall already, number of days in, actually.
Shelley was overjoyed. She’d skipped over a season. She was starting to age faster!
She’d check the downstairs works later.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0613, Nautilus, NORTH, Rooster's Peninsula
Bonnie &
“Your dog’s standing on my foot, right?”
“Hand it over!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0608, Nautilus, NORTH, Slaashsides
All of West Virginia is suddenly at her disposal.
Wheeler, now Raspberry Girl, took the opportunity of her mate and partner in crime Johnny Black being away to catch up with some synchs, specifically “Waits 4 No 1” tonight.
As “Constantinople” begins playing to the end of “6 Feet Under”, people on screen soon to start dropping like flies, she recalls that 12 of the 13 tracks from The Residents’ seminal “Duck Stab/Buster and Glen” album are used in the synch, including this one. She also recalls… stabbing the Duck. She feels the purple-ish beret on her head reflexively, as if it might be hair.
David falls backwards dead, the first to succumb. She forgets the vision.
At 1 hour and 43 minutes in, past all 12 “Duck Stab/Buster and Glen” tracks now, she sees this, dubbed by “The sleeper has awoken” uttered by Dune’s Paul.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0606, Carrcass+03, Paper Soap+, Soap, West Virginia
00340605
Unexpected development at the vet’s office. Another numbers crunching dog was already there, typing on his laptop as fast as possible. The screen shots changed at a rapid, even amazing pace. But although there were a dizzying amount of different angles, the location was obviously the same. The Red Room, sometimes known as the Red Bathroom. Also sitting Norris had found it after a long long search.
Johnny Black tried to remain as calm as possible. “Your dog?” he said over. “Talented,” he added.
“Not my dog,” replied the man with the bleached out face. Don’t look at me, he thought. Anywhere but me.
“Oh.” Johnny Black had a rethink. Norris was obviously studying what the labrador was looking at intently. Not his dog, but Norris was fascinated with the information it was receiving. Another Universe was already in place here. Removing the numbers from his own dog wouldn’t work! Darnit! Drat! Wheeler won’t take this well, he knows. He digs further to find out the source of the problem. “Interesting room he’s got there. Very red it appears.”
“Red Room, yes. I’ve been… searching for it…” Norris knew to shut up.
“Red Room you say. Is that the same as the Red Bathroom?” Johnny Black was testing Norris to see if he even knew of the latter, and that it might be the same as the former, given the right circumstances. Because everything hinged on that association now. Everyone in a high enough circle of information knew the Red Room was ultimately inaccessible. But a red bathroom — could be different.
Norris dared to look over, understanding the same. Their eyes met, their eyes locked. This was a race to the end with the loser becoming dead. Norris stood up, Johnny Black stood up. Norris took one step forward, so did Johnny as he gathered up the dog to leave. Norris took one two threefourfivesixseven. He was running out the door down the street. Johnny was right behind him, or right beside him. Maybe in front, even. Both had to go to the bathroom and it was urgent in each case — couldn’t wait. Just over there next to the swamp…
—–
“Next!” Oh frick, thought Abby the vet and vet assistant both today, seeing the empty waiting room besides Sparkles. Another owner on the run. She hasn’t got time for this.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0605, Paper Soap+
00340604
The operation to take the points off his ears was a success, and they didn’t ask too many questions about his origins, thanks to receiving a considerable amount of not-so-hard earned cash on top of their regular fees for such surgery. Johnny Black had it in abundance after all, byproduct of his new name as stated. Hats smats. Besides, he couldn’t find one that suited him, plus cover up the aberrant ears well enough. So: this.
Only Wheeler sent him a get well card but that was enough. Now to remove the numbers from the dog to fully complete the transformation from good to evil, a trickier situation potentially. Because recitation of those 4 digits in those 24 iterations kept the world spinning as we know it, with everything in its proper place. Without them: chaos; The Abyss. Johnny Black, our former Newt, had to time it just right, thread a needle, walk a tightrope, insert your own idiom. Remove the numbers, gather up the cleaned out dog, and high tail it outta this place, this Paper-Soap. He’s not worried about it long term. The psychic children over in Elementary High can create a temporary holding universe until they can figure out what happened, when it will be too late. They’ll have to find another control animal which will take time. Maybe Johnny can air mail them one when he gets stabilized elsewhere. He likes this place! He doesn’t want it to end, with Paper over there and Soap over here again. The two should remain united. Just like Wheeler and himself.
To the vet!
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0604, Paper Soap+, Soap
landmimes 03
“See what we did, Keith B.? I *told* you we couldn’t avoid Horns.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0515, Google Street View, Horns of Hatton+, Maebaleia/Satori, South Dakota
landmimes 02
Beyond the resourcefulness of its porcine citizens, there wasn’t much to recommend the small mining town of Rumpus Ridge. But even in such a hardscrabble place, they had created something they could be proud of: over the years they had collected the biggest ball of string in the world. Folks came from miles around to see it. But one night, a flood carries their prized string away and washes it ashore near the town of Cornwall. Rather than return it, the Cornwallians decide to keep the string for themselves.
https://foursquare.com/v/porters-sculpture-park/4cb6046256fca1cd653a5318/photos
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0514, Illinois, Maebaleia/Satori, Pipersville/Sink X, South Dakota
00340509
“The only Butt that’s going to show up in this photo is mine,” spoke up Silentghost, tired of the bog down, but also noting the deleted or unsuccessful profile pic involved yet another purple outfit. Fitting: too fitting. Supposed notorious outlaw on the run Wilson had nothing to say, since she was actually Wheeler. What kind of luck did she have assuming the name of a fugitive from the law?? What did it speak of her character to attract this person into her life?
“I — don’t remember taking that picture, I swear,” she said, plotting her defense. She didn’t. Not her pic!
“Com’on,” insisted Silentghost. “Ρùℜ℘Îē?”
There is another me out there, thought Wilson Wheeler both wrongly and rightly.
Observing Shelley had seen it too but she wasn’t shocked or damaged in any way. Instead: curious. Futuristic (outfit), she pondered. *From* the future. And so it was. She told this to Wilson who was actually Wheeler. Time is being confused, she added in her psychic manner.
She traced the picture back to last Halloween. The lone blog post published from that day, toward the last of photo-novel 29 which I am just re-reading now, was certainly quite purple in nature and mentioned a purple swamp shack in particular, along with Prince’s “Purple Rain” album.
https://bakerbloch.com/2021/10/31/00290608/
“I’m going back to that swamp,” she said to Newt on the phone later. Paper-Soap: he was there too. He studied the post while she spoke. Box… Borneo. They were not even really dating at the time. Perhaps they still weren’t, although they’d been married since.
Shelley contemplated the post afterwards too. *She* was there, at the resurrection beach with Cat-Witch who is… *Wheeler*. Just the day before.
Whatever happened to Liz?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0509, AF Subcontinent, Paper Soap+, Sansara, Soap
progression
Let’s see, I have to fit the Duck back in here somewhere.
—–
“Yes, put on a robe, stay a while,” said Pauline Silentghost by her side, still assuming the pose of a master (channeler). “How’s your knee doing?”
“Fine,” Wheeler said, taking all the shifts in stride per usual. She doesn’t remember changing into the purple-ish robe but here we are. In… Sansara? Yes, but a special part, she realized. An artsy fartsy sub-continent to the immediate east and south. It’s a place she doesn’t think she’s ever been before until now. Thanks to Scroop, or Scrougeout as they call the Nautilus sim in these here parts. So says Pauline. The Oracle rules all in this out of the way, edge of the world type of location. Perhaps it’s just the distance from everything else that makes it so.
“You know who has to show up next.” Stares.
“Do I?” Wheeler tired of meeting the gaze and looked down at her robe, examining the texture. The finest cloth, she saw (and felt), perhaps cashmere. When she looked up: this.
“So who’s this fresh piece of hell?” she queried, but then knew the answer, which instantly became another question. “Daughter?”
It was Shelley Struthers with a, er, Scrougeout t-shirt, another duck.
“She is the owner of the castle,” replied Pauline, wiser than ever. Rust Never Sleeps becoming Roost Never Sleeps again. She turns. “Aren’t you dearest?”
“My name is Shelley,” she spoke plainly.
“Yes, we know your name,” replied robed Wheeler sitting across from her. She stared into umbrella eyes.
“My husband is George. We own the castle. Together.”
Shelley was much too young to be married. This was a future vision obviously, Wheeler realized. “Timeline, please,” she requested as politely as possible. “You’re a *child*.”
“I am *your* child.” Stares again all around. Awkwardness. Wheeler suspected she had a daughter for several years now, perhaps many years. The spaceship.
—–
“I’m telling you, Newt. She’s *real*.” He’d suspected as well. Black and white, male and female, on and off. Clone? Possibility.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0508, AF Subcontinent, Sansara
Sunklands 