Tag Archives: NODAL

January 21, 2020 · 8:14 am

Harvey

One day he came here and his beloved giant live oak tree had simply vanished in thin air. “I’ve had enough of this place,” Jer Left Horn muttered to himself. “Fran is too young and Cloe is too unavailable. Time for me to report back to Mother. The caves got my brother plain and simple. He will never be found the right way in.”

Time to look the wrong way; the only one left. Somewhere else than End of Time.”

“He’s given up on End of Time, Hucka Doobie. I’m not so sure.”

She stares over at the white rabbit merrily munching on a carrot. “Me neither.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0606, End of Time+, Google Street View, Ohio

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January 18, 2020 · 9:48 am

not today

I’m very close to the answer, Axis thinks while staring up.

He turns. Very close.

He buys the “white eye” offered on top of the old drum can for a linden dollar, wears, and instantly becomes blinded.

“*Shite*.”

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January 9, 2020 · 9:05 am

Serenity again

He was just a kooky old Japanese guy on permanent vacation. But at least he brought his slippers to Rose-, er, this *place*, unlike fellow vacationer Donald Farr before him earlier this winter. He’d heard the robot play the 2 “Gouldberg Variations” in a row, a realm favorite thanks to Merry. Bookends they were, and belonged together as one. Now he was ready for Zoidboro’s sermon at the Church of the Fly Lord behind him here. Perhaps he’d meet Peter today. Parasol said he would like him. Another old dude. And spoke a bit of Japanese, even.

—–

“The world is a windshield,” Zoidboro preached through tentacle covered mouth, “waiting to take you out when you least suspect it. Take Little Timmy Flick last week over on Highway 52 behind the old Tastee Freeze. Take Thomas the Elder this past Tuesday before the last Wednesday after Monday’s Friday at the Yoko Ona Parody Museum, in the parking lot even. Yea, parking lots can be dangerous too. Central parking lots especially. To get to a Square, you must always Times something….”

Ji-San turned to the man sitting next to him and spoke low beneath the sermon. “Are you per chance Peter?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0501, Rose Heaven-

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December 21, 2019 · 2:22 am

Bellisaria

She walked and walked, further than ever until the one track became two, as it always was. And always will be. She sat down in the middle of the split to remember who she was/is/will be.

I am Tessa from in or near Twin Peaks, she told herself. Old and yet young here. Between the red and yellow in front of me…

… and the blue and green behind.

Split. Like realities.

She will not move until someone comes and helps her choose.

But then a scary bug appears beside her and makes her choose anyway. “Shite!” she exclaims while jumping off the bench onto the wrong track.

The year: ’42. She heard distant bugles. A faint smell of burnt copper was in the air. She knows which reality she’s in. And it’s not the right one. The Realm of Fear.

End of Time was a *sanctuary* she realized. Once she stepped back in the light, all was exposed for what it is.

But she must forget all this and get back to the cave. It was only an experiment, see, a dream even. Trouble is, she was heading the wrong way.

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October 24, 2019 · 2:49 pm

redtop

She was having that dream where she was looking everywhere for the correct script. Under the coke machine? Not there.

Heading down from here.

Sewers, eww! The underbelly of society itself. The discarded, the disorganized. They can go to Sh-t Hell for all she cares. Up again.

And up again.

Doors open. Her mother giving birth to her. Top of the head appears. No red hair atall. She quickly hits close.

She was looking for her father to speak to him in heaven, for surely that’s where he is. Being a martyr to the cause and all. But there was no door to heaven on this elevator. Only the red place.

She had missed the portal. At the end of the sewer where you have to wade through the most sh-t to get to. The highest is found in the lowest.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0404, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, NWES Island

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October 19, 2019 · 7:21 am

Gunn(s) 02

It appeared while he was working on plans for a new floor of the building. Red cube.

“Aww, damn. Those guys again? I thought I was done with all this,” he grumbled and got up to check the laptop at the other end of his office to see where they were in the game.

“Sh-t,” he cussed, seeing that Cloe had ditched her weapon in a small, blackhole-style glitch and progressed toward the Dead Sea(s) and The Basin beyond the namesake trailer park. “They must have found the gunn(s).”

“All I wanted,” he lamented to an imaginary Aqua Dude on the couch behind him, “is to be a Green Squirt One, on my own and away from my family of red neck bill hillies. I wanted to be happy,” *sigh*.

His former lover Aqua Dude faded from the couch as he realized what need to be done. He checked the game logs to see when the hole had last been emptied.

“23 hours ago. Maybe there’s still time…”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0311, Maebaleia/Satori, X-City

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October 12, 2019 · 9:09 am

(BELL SOUND)

“What do you think, Hucka Doobie? It’s the Red Umbrella in NWES.”

“I see.” Hucka shuffles her feet. “I thought we were, er, done with this town. Splitsville and all.”

“Well… decided to give it one more try. The rent was so cheap. Thus (he indicates with his hands), voila.”

“Should we go inside, then?”

“Sure, we can do that Hucka Doobie. It’s all the art in the Red Umbrella in 7 Stones, though. You know all the works.”

“Have I interpreted them yet?” Hucka Doobie truly couldn’t remember.

“I — think so. Most of them anyhow.”

“Hmm. Let’s go inside anyway.”

“*Actually*, I wanted to show you something in particular. Jar your memory a bit, perhaps.”

“Alright.”

—–

“Before I forget, Baker Bloch, I wanted to tell you that ‘Humanvillians’ has returned to Fal Mouth Moon (in 7 Stones). Herbert Gold and April Mae Flowers’ story must be resolved; Uncle Joe and Aunt Zoe entrapped in a 2-dimensional realm once more.”

“Cool, Hucka Doobie. Good to know. I wonder if (we should allow) Danny to come back to the Fal Mouth Moon as janitor/receptionist, then?”

“Oh no,” replies the bee being firmly. “Tronesisia *specifically* said: that couldn’t happen. Besides, he’s pretty happy in his Metal castle in Dewey. Herbert Gold and April Mae are still there too. The Irish Village over in the Fi sim didn’t work as an alternative for them. Rent too high.” Hucka Doobie looks up at the Red Umbrella and its trademark sign. “Unlike here, it seems.”

“Very cheap,” Baker Bloch reinforces. “Especially for an urban area. I even bought the building online, thinking I could just move this whole new version of the Red Umbrella over to 7 Stones to replace the one there. Didn’t work out. Not yet.”

“Hmmm, sir, I say to that.”

“Hmmm,” Baker Bloch mimicked back, thinking Hucka Doobie knows something that he doesn’t know (once again). He stares into her dilated pupils. “We better get inside. The night progresses…”

“Sure. Thank you for the AO, by the way.” states an upright Hucka. They walk forward in their different ways.

—–

“Here, Hucka Doobie. The very first piece (of the gallery). See the jigsaw pieces?” The male Baker points.

“I see. You’re say that…”

“… I’m saying that this is NWES, the city itself. N equals North and green…”

“Blue,” Hucka Doobie corrects quickly.”

“Blue, right. Then *W* equals West: green; E equals East, which is red; and then, lastly, S: South: yellow.”

“Tile, then.”

“Right. The city *has* a center. Just needs to be found still.”

“I doubt it, Baker Bloch,” opines Hucka Doobie, shaking her bee head. She then rubs her neck.

“Neck still bothering you, Hucka?” asks Baker Bloch, truly concerned about his friend’s health.

“Nah, I’m okay. As long as I don’t walk on cement or pavement much, or hard ground,” she adds. “Just leaves. Soft, cushiony leaves.”

“Well… don’t let your *head* break off from your body.” Baker Bloch immediately regretted the attempt at a joke. Hucka Doobie looked over with those eyes.


ART=center?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0301, Black Ice, Jeogeot, NWES Island

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September 2, 2019 · 8:54 am

landmimes 01 02 03

“Go ahead and take off your head and roll it into the center of the sink. That way you’ll be free of it. You can enter Pipersville unencumbered.”

“Of what?” Hucka Doobie speaks behind me in the void. “Yarns?”

—–

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

—–

“See what we did, Keith B.? I *told* you we couldn’t avoid Horns.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0015, 0515, Google Street View, Illinois, Maebaleia/Satori, Pipersville/Sink X, South Dakota

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August 16, 2019 · 7:09 am

The New Truth

Cathy A., natural mate to Marcus Fox Smartville and also a DJ like Grey Scale Kimball, had long dug Elvis White but didn’t know about Elvis Black until he showed up at one of her pretend gigs in Kensington’s Serenityville day before Wednesday. Always with the primmy rose she was, thus couldn’t spin the other record, the dark side this time. Like the South — but they were *barely* in the North now. North side of the middle that is (Hills of Bill/Neutral Zone). But, perhaps: close enough.

Elvis Black, who of course is our Duncan Avocado in disguise once more, just sat on the wooden bench on the far side of the lawn, letting his presence be known. He didn’t want to seem threatening at all, just seen. Here was a keeper of the portal, he thought from within. Like Marcus before her. Maybe they’re even one and the same, or at least soulmates. I think with the common rose it’s obvious. Is it the *same* rose?

—–

Day after Thursday he stands before Cathy, turning Grey in the process. Exactly east from this spot on the day between Sunday and Tuesday of the previous week, Gabby Truth saw it coming.

“You have lost the West but gained the East,” he spoke, seeing visions in his scrying ball once again. “But, at the same time, you have lost the South, but gained — yes — the North.” He draws back his white, pancaked face from the glow. “Interesting.” He looked over at Elvis Black — black Elvis. “All the 4 directions at once, blabber de blah…”

But they weren’t “all at once,” as Gabby proclaimed. He had himself lost separation of time in his chatty mannerisms. Elvis’ — Duncan’s — losses were 2, the latter nested inside the former. This was not seen today, this between day.

—–

Duncan becomes fully Grey on a day of the week further down from Friday. “I have lost the South but gained the North,” he said in DJ character, staring at the 2 records, spun and un-spun.

Gabby Truth finally remembers to turn off the light in his crystal ball.

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August 3, 2019 · 7:50 am

respects

They all sat on the bench, wondering what she was attempting to actually accomplish by being here. But they dare not ask, since they were the conquered if not the vanquished — yet. Grey Scale Kimball had assured the little people of the land that she was fairy friendly, and that she had come from Regaltown which was full of such people and they all got along very well indeed and that she herself was a type of fairy. The fairies knew what she was alluding to. Fairies are certainly not dumb creatures. Little bodies and brains, true, but a lot of thoughts spinning round those small grey matters. They knew that she was referring to homosexual fairies and not fairy fairies, although there were also homosexual fairy fairies, if not in present company.

Benny’s brother Jer showed up on the other side of the praying Grey Scale. He was much less timid in his position as the Left Horn to his brother’s Right. Horns of Hatton they were together, although not rulers of the land. That was Grey Scale now. Formerly: their father.

“My ruler,” he acknowledged Grey Scale while bowing a bit. “My brother,” he said over to Jer sitting on the bench with the fairies.

“Howdy,” Jer’s less formal brother spoke back. The fairies (Aubrey, Austin, Addison) waved “hi.”

Jer turned his attention back to Grey Scale. “May I assist you in your prayers, my ruler?” His voice was authoritative. *He* should have been the eventual ruler. Not this usurper. But armies decide battles and hers won. Certainly having the armored elephants didn’t hurt her cause. He should have thought of it first. They were there, just having a good time roaming the shallows and flats around the sacred Hills of Bill. He should have put them to good use first.

“No, I think I’ve got the hang of it,” replied Grey Scale, thinking: how hard is it to pray, dummy? I sit on the single pose ball, I *pray*. Very simple. But then she realized that maybe she was missing something. Like needed, spoken words. Perhaps a ritual mentioned in those dusty old tomes which she’s still read only about 10% of. She decided enough was enough before she got herself into hotter water, and rose solemnly, unlocking her hands. “There. I feel better,” she said, breathing deeply. She shrugged to both brothers. “But it’s war, fellas. There’s gotta be winners… and, well, losers.” She glanced into the tomb with this. The final resting place of Max the Mad, also known as the Red Devil. “Now he’s in a better place,” she tried to reassure again, but Grey Scale here instead pictured a world of fire and brimstone and much gnashing of teeth.

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