Tag Archives: NODAL

March 19, 2018 · 8:40 am

threesome two

“Do you remember who was beside Karoz Blogger over there, Campbell?”

“Um… Baker?”

“That’s very good. But do you remember which Baker?”

“Err. Bloch?” the blue being guesses incorrectly.

“No,” responds Sidechick Corea gently. “That would be Baker Blinker, who is married to Karoz.” He checks the sun, then quickly looks down at his watch while shaking off educational mode. “Dear Lord,” he cries. “I forgot about Baker! He’s maybe been waiting, oh jeez, *3* hours! School’s over, Campbell O’Pine. I have to get over to the Threesun sim. Pronto!”

—–

“Where’ve you been, Sidechick? After-school Care? I was dying down there, you know.”

“I’m *so* sorry.”

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March 19, 2018 · 7:38 am

threesome

At sunrise on March 19 2018, Baker Bloch teleports into the very center of the Threesun sim (128, 128). He’s right on top of a larger statue, whose position logically marks this center. So: interesting at the beginning.

The statue is one of three in the subterranean chamber he manifests within, all positioned against the same north wall. Notice that a 4th enclave on this wall is empty (one to the far left here). Are these chess pieces again? Baker ponders. The description of the objects don’t seem to lend more to this possibility.

Then on the west wall, what are obviously representations of the “three suns” in question: 3 metal circles with 8 irregularly placed “flames” apiece. Seem to be made of copper or bronze.

Baker spies a small container or coffer in the center of the altar below them. He approaches… and opens.

Time to take this to the next level.

Rey Wisa, aka Ellen, exits the chamber through the tall, metallic west doors.

Oops, wrong one.

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March 17, 2018 · 9:40 am

all a board

“If you get confused or lost, Campbell, we’ll go ahead and design this as a place you can come to achieve clarity. Now I’ll go ahead and sit beside you since I’m already here. I’m Bracket Jupiter.”

“Hi Bracket,” speaks Campbell O’Pine cordially. “Nice to greet you.”

“So logically that places Spongeberg beside you on the other side. Spongeberg is currently playing the role of your Mmmmmm cousin Grassy Noll. Remember to call him Grass as much as possible. Last seen: getting stoned with Wheeler who is now The Bill. We’ll get to her in a minute. So we’ll seat Grassy who is Spongeberg beside you, since you’re kind of partners. Grassy, can you change into your base character just so Campbell will know what it looks like.”

“Sure.” He changes.

“And I’ll do the same.”

“So here we are,” Bracket says. “Let’s spread it out a little further. Beside me would be Wheeler we spoke about before. She plays a variety of characters but we’ll place her here in the base or core form again. And then beside Spongeberg we have Karoz Blogger — we’re getting into the older souls now of the blog, Campbell.”

“Okay. Hi Wheeler. Hi Karoz.”

Jointly: “Hello.”

“And then beside them we have The Bakers: Baker Bloch next to Wheeler over there, and then Baker Blinker sitting beside Karoz Blogger. Baker Blinker and Karoz are married — you guys are married still?”

“Yes,” they answer in unison. No stares were directed toward Wheeler.

“Baker Blinker and Baker Bloch,” Bracket continues, “are the owners of Collagesity. We’ll visit there soon for further orientation. But for now you must remain in Nascera. *Don’t* go back to New Island. Don’t get lost again.”

“Alright.” But both knew he would.

“And then to round out the circle we have resident blog spirit Hucka Doobie sitting directly opposite you. This is her classic bee form, but she’s refined it a bit now. Would you like to show us, Hucka?”

“Not right now,” the bee person requests.

“Since Hucka most understands among us about getting lost, she’s going to take you under her wing, Campbell.” Awkward pause here, then Bracket realizes his mistake. “Aww, I subconsciously made a bee joke. I’m sorry, Hucka. I know you’ve changed.”

“I have.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to show us how much you’ve changed now? Just for more orientation. It’s important Campbell here knows.”

“Very well.”

“And I can hide my antennae under my hair if needed,” she furthers.

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January 5, 2018 · 2:14 am

where they are…

Gaeta 5 is the only finished continent of the Gaeta series. The initial project was to build 5 continents (named from Gaeta 1 to Gaeta 5), then to unite them into a single block of sims. Today, only Gaeta 5 is complete and a part of Gaeta 1 was built. Gaeta 5 is the most compact continent, with no gulfs or estuaries. On map, [it] has a [peanut shape]. This continent is an endless plain. It is linked to Corsica by a two-sim large passage (see Transcontinental Channels).

http://wiki.secondlife.com/wiki/Gaeta_5

where they *aren’t* (any more):

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January 3, 2018 · 9:22 am

HHI Again

Philip Strevor became bored waiting for Marion Harding to show up with the new recruit to their gang, and started poking around the upper floor of Raven Manor, one of the largest buildings of Capitol City and located in the sim of Babablacksheep.

Hmm, he pondered. Wonder why this big office has a map of Terra Aurca on the wall instead of Gaeta V or Capitol City or sumtin?

He sits down in the centre of the room and thinks: One day I will be a big shot in this town and command from a posh desk like this. He pretends that people are seated opposite him, asking for favors.

“I see, Mrs. Brighton,” he says calmly for the set up. “But *no*, we cannot lend you 10,000 lindens so that your little boy can get out of jail. You can see him in 10 years!” He slams his hand down on the desk to punctuate the idea and then laughs heartily, head tilted backwards. He laughs so hard his sides start to ache. He must be careful.

Marion opens the room’s large oak doors with the fresh recruit in tow. “There you are. Playing like you’re important again?”

Laughter died down, Philip merely grunts.

“I haven’t seen you in about a week, Philip. You’re wearing short sleeves. But where’s your cybernetic arms? What’s happened?”

Philip doesn’t answer but instead stands up stiffly and goes over to the recruit and starts looking her over — he even sniffs her several times during the process. He turns toward Marion. “A *kid*? You said there was a twist, but… a *child*?”

“First off, introductions,” Marion replies, steady in the face of fury. “Philip Strevor, this is Heidi Hunt Ives. Heidi: Philip.”

Heidi Hunt Ives, who is of course Billy Jean Kidd again, extends a hand. “Please to meet you Philip.”

Philip doesn’t shake her hand. He instead roughly takes Marion’s arm and leads him to a far corner of the room. “A word, please,” he says as they walk.

Chance? Heidi thinks with amusement while watching them recede from her. Chants?

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November 20, 2017 · 7:20 am

missed opportunity

At sunset on November 20th, 2017, Snowmanster once again exits the CB Dylan dresser that acts as a portal between dimensions. He finally had tracked down an exciting adventure for Duncan and George involving the escalating Jeogeot Gulf War, where Duncan would play a French Lieutenant and George would be his daughter Sarah.

But no one was there to meet him in the VHC City penthouse apartment except George the doll, propped up on the far couch.

So Snowmanster sat and visited with him for a while before taking his leave, saying he had to head over to Farmington South to offer Peter Pipersville and his son Edward the role instead and to tell Duncan and George that he was sorry he missed them.

He stares out the eastward facing window at the town’s giant hotel before reentering the portal.


“Goodbye VHC City.”

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November 11, 2017 · 1:08 pm

ss

Perspective enlarged, Chuck Cheese finds herself in a strange place again, walking on a spiraling path upwards toward a rocky summit.

“Both of us can’t be women,” uttered Wheeler Wilson at the top. She changed.

“Right you are, Wilson Wheeler,” returned Chuck Cheese. She also changes.

“A pair of suave, swarthy dudes we make, eh?” said Wilson Wheeler.

Earie was thinking about himself: although just as swarthy, not so suave. “I am almost wholly invisible now,” he complains. “I am just an object to be seen right through. You don’t respect me as a person, Improvio. I mean, Pretty Man. I mean: Wilson Wheeler. Whatever.”

“Do you remember?”

“What happened? Yeah. A merger of church and liquor store.” He looks down into the valley to his right.

“We are the Malefic The Kidd spoke about,” continued Wilson. “With sickly, green wings; tucked in the opposite corner of her, um, building. Imprisoned even. Do you feel like you’re in jail? I do.” He indicates his outfit with a gesture. “This suit. The suit of Bowie.”

“Bowie protects you,” counters Earie. “Without Bowie you are nothing here as well. Object.”

“And who are you suppose to be?” he returns sarcastically. “Sid Vicious?”

Earie lays it out as plain as possible. “We are 2/3rds of the punk band Story Room. Banned from Olde Lapara Towne because of the noise, moved to the hidden vilage of Gaston where there was no ban, turned into pretty things there in order to survive, and then confined like flies to its Central Park. Paper.”

“Fly paper, right,” agrees Wilson Wheeler. “We burn to death again every day. Central Park is without dark and always on fire. Core of a volcano.”

“Seed into tree,” Earie continued even more abstractly. He uncrossed his legs. “Atonal punks we are, Wilson Wheeler.”

“Please,” Wilson Wheeler finally countered concerning his name. “If am that you are The Musician.”

He stops thinking about the spot marked with an “X” in the valley below and turns back toward his counterpart. “Then I am Earie…

… and you are Pretty Man.

But I also get to be Chuck.”

“Get yourself a shoulder pet and we’ll talk later,” compromises the suaver swarthy man sitting opposite him.

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October 28, 2017 · 7:56 am

aim backwards

There he is, Tiny Tina thinks. The miserable sod. Time to get him out of here before it’s too late.

Tina approaches. “Mr. Oden,” she pronounces clearly upwards. “Mr. Gregg Oden.”

Gregg looks down, spots her. “I’m Gregg Oden. I drink…”

“Yes, yes,” Tina interrupts, hands still on hips. “Is that all you have to wear out of here?”

“I have some watercolors. Would you like to see?”

“Can you *wear* watercolors out of here?” Tiny Tina chirps acidly, making Gregg pause. She blows out a minuscule puff of air. “This will have to do, then. Get up. No time to lose.”

“I’m Gregg Oden?” he says while rising off the jail bed.

“That remains to be determined. But we have to get you out of here. If they found out what you *really* were there would be tests after tests. And we don’t want that.”

She sprints across the floor and back to the open door of the cell. Gregg takes steps to follow. “You’ll have to move faster than that, Mr. Oden,” she shouts upwards and forwards while waiting. “Burt’s on a coffee break. He always takes a coffee break at 3:45am sharp. He always returns at 4:00am sharp. So *move*.”

“Too late,” Tina whispers as loud as she could, peering down from over the top of the stairs. “We’ll have to kill him.”

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August 22, 2017 · 8:28 pm

“Pageturner”

They all realized that Lamb was bigger than any of ’em.

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August 17, 2017 · 9:45 am

“Aim” Interpretation

“I have it pulled up over here on the Blue Feather tivi screen,” Hucka Doobie messaged to Baker Bloch.

“Come over here instead,” he messaged back. “Context. I’ll offer you a teleport.”

“Alright,” Hucka Doobie messaged in turn.

—–

“Peculiar room,” said Hucka Doobie, looking around. “Narrow.”

“It’s the GHHI Room. Don’t ask me what that means. Yet.”

“Something to do with the 4 empty sims at the Jeogeot infohub I’m assuming, where trees are ferns. I know the initials.”

“Yeah,” admitted Baker. “So here it is. Here.”

Hucka Doobie turns around and immediately jumps into an examination.

“Your aim is different from Peter SoSo’s. He’s focused on fulfilling the train line. Your own attention veers off to the right here, toward the forgotten waterfall. Aim Falls, we can call it. The Ickles, the two green beings in the collage — one at the bottom of the stairs with what appears to be Jiff (?) and the other to his right, directly below the falls — are aiding you. Yes, I’m getting it. Jiff is also an Ickle, but of a different species. Round head instead of cubic. Multiple expressions; five total. But color sticks… there must be 3 species: red, green, blue. Combined they form pitch perfect expression, a whiteness to douse the black away. Heaven over Earth. Man over woman even, perhaps.” He stops there.

“Well, there’s those little red people to the bottom right, Hucka,” Baker Bloch chipped in. “Right behind and around the wastebasket filled with Rocky’s discarded drafts for his second novel. Maybe they sprang out of the refuge.”

“Refugees,” uttered Hucka Doobie. “Whatever happened to ‘G’? Ginger, wasn’t it? Or was it Tina?”

“If you mean the tender of the bar across the road, she appears to be gone. 4th citizen not here any more.”

“Missing again,” ponders Hucka Doobie. He scans the collage one last time. “Well, it’s pretty obvious. You must aim toward the falls, find out about the 3 Ickle species, and go from there. Jiff must be real again in this novel and have the ability to manifest. The green cubic hulks Rocky also writes about and then discards are obviously Ickle representations as well. He knows them and they know him. So: location location location. 3 of ’em. 3-n-1. ‘Nother one.”

“My line. But: thanks!”

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