A work in progress still, but Collagesity has moved to Urqhart or thereabouts. Former land in Nautilus will be set up for sale in the next day. Big news indeed! These here Collagesity photo-novels have found a new center to pivot around in all its various locations. Home.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0605, Corsica, Urqhart
“We’re not here to play with chess pieces, my lovely Linda Halsey,” Marty opens. “We’re here to play with minds. Give me a report on the latest over in Urqhart (or thereabouts), dearest.”
“Sure, um. We think Wheeler may be back in the game.”
“Is that good?”
“Is it?” she returned, and then Lisa Smipson showed up asking if they wanted menus but only brought up Vegetarian selections for specials. They thanked her while shaking their heads about needing food, not realizing who she was in the moment. Lisa then dropped this broad hint of how the game should go.
“You know, a mere pawn can be turned into a whole board given enough time,” she said in her pleasantly squeaky voice, bordering between serious and parody. Kind of like stuck between a 2d and 3d existence. Fisher the fry cook called from the kitchen, needing her to pick up another order. “2 Perch, hold the fries, hold the slaw,” he called, giving more hints. She turned sideways and fairly disappeared in front of them. Another took her place in a frozen slice of time.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0604, Corsica, Storybrook-
“Yes I remember now. It was called the Red Rose and I was Peter (Peet) at the time. Before the explosion that destroyed Club 88, you see, and accompanying Little Jimmy, the lesser boom. This would have been, oh, ’88 I think?”
“’98,” corrected Venus Flytrap, by his side all this time, an Ant to his Uncle. “But what about *my* place, the bar (across the street). Noodle?”
“It appears so,” Axis aka TronAxis replied. “And the battymobile was still intact,” he added, zooming into the garage of the building now. “Mr. Fix It was fixing it up.”
“Perfect,” responded Venus. “It all makes sense now. Red Rose; Marty; The Lamb/Ram fusion (Rupert). We must then inquire about Legos.”
“Later,” requested Axis. They had enough for the moment.
Marty and Harry’s son.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0510, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, NWES Island
“I *hate* Star. I will *never* go with the Star, pheh.”
—–
Marsha “Pink” Krakow was confused. She had come back home to Storybrook after being way up in the air over in Southeast (aerial), then landed here instead. Apparently a whole ‘nother town on top of her hometown (!), or at least the start of one. Was this the future of Storybrook, hidden in the sky only to descend when the right time comes? And — will the right time be at the end of the Corona V Beer scare? Why did she think that at this moment?
She turns. Just like her uncle’s shop in NWES City. How? She hadn’t seen him in years. Axis or Ally or something. Yes, Axis, um… she can’t remember the last name. Her own uncle!
She looks across a side street…
… to see herself exiting a bar called The Trunk Ant. Herself! A different timeline, she realized. One where her Storybrook never existed.
She had found the beating heart of the Big Inside.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0508, Corsica, Southeast, Storybrook-
“I *want* to get better,” bubbled a depressed Messed Up from a similarly colorful and confusing couch. “I — have a new love in my life. I’m motivated!”
“That’s great, Ms. Up,” responded Dr. Young Kane (played by Axis aka TronAxis). “I’m glad you have a reason to change. Makes my job easier.”
“You — may know him actually,” Messed Up sloshed haltingly again, knowing more than she let on.
“Oh?”
“Yes.” And then she spilled his name.
—–
“Young *Harris*,” spat out Dr. Young Kane later to his imaginary wife sitting below him, more cartoonish tonight than usual but still sporting the perfunctory blue-green hair.
“The reason you came *here*,” she returned. “Where are we going with this?”
“I — was going to ask you that.”
“I think — we should go to bed now. We can think better in the morning. With our coffee, eggs and tea.”
“*No*,” Axis said firmly. “We’re going to *figure* this out *tonight*.” His voice was pitched just below a yell now. “*Why* is she here?”
“New patient,” said Venus cooly from below. “You need the money.” She stared at The Sun between them, the rays. “It’s the Corona–”
“*Stop* saying that word. I’m sick to death of hearing it.”
“–V Drink,” she dared to finish. “The deal is almost done.”
—–
He finds himself in a different place, sporting the Esso t-shirt once more. Peter Oesso now, formerly Peter Osseo formerly Peter Esso. “Like an opossum,” he explained to Randolph the pirate beside Storybrook’s Gatcha Warehouse about the newest name. Fresh from another hand washing he is.
“Possum; opossum. I *think* I get it.” He turns toward the effigy of Mr. Fix It against the Black Elephant with the graffiti art. “So that’s It, huh? The man you killed to get that gas station.”
“I *didn’t* kill him. It was just a — convenience.”
“Convenience *store*.”
“In the future,” Peter Oesso admitted to the bastard buccaneer.
“So, are we on for 500 more cases of the often deadly brewskies? Or are you done with it now? The killing and all.”
“I — have a confession.” And it was here Peter Oesso told Randolph the Bastard Pirate about the conjoined trunks streams.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0505, Corsica, Southeast, Storybrook-
Peter/Tronaxis checked the next morning. The Esso poster downstairs *had* changed again, this time to Oesso (from Osseo). But the Tiger remains. Him, according to Wheeler. He was both embarrassed and pleased with the title. He still regrets being Dr. Young Kane over in the Weird-o Islands instead of Dr. Young Harris. Weir did he go wrong? What path could he have chosen differently? Venus knows, but she won’t tell him. She’s always shutting her mouth when it comes up with that zipper gesture she found online. So he remains Mars — Marz. Trapped here in essence, in this Purple Marz house located in a sim dominated or defined by that weird-o color (like surrealism). Maybe Blue Berry Girl would know, having successfully removed violet from her own wardrobe, this so called weighty Purple Sphere that poor little Katy Kidd/Kate McCoy always talks about releasing as well in a more mental capacity. A mentor to her this Blue Berry Girl is, despite the continued nudity. Popeye-like, she declares, “I am what I am.” Bulging eyed youths obviously foam at the mouth with the gunn sight. If only Bullfrog would have had the courage to shoot her with his own, different gun when he had the chance back in novel 14, he thinks, taking the mindset of the current doctor. “I better get over there,” he utters while checking his oh so loudly ticking wristful of watch, also with bat wings. He stops looking at it just in time to avoid another catastrophe. Too early in the morning for BOOM.
—–
“Your — sphere is back,” spoke Axis/Peter Oesso, stating the obvious.
“Shut up.”
Then the ghost of Dr. Baumbeer showed up and things got *really* interesting. He had a lot to say.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0503, Corsica, Southeast
“What am I doing here? In this sim, pheh.” She waves the bat in the air, contacting nothing.
—–
Downstairs in the Purple Marz house, somewhat human again Jack Snow answers the door. For no one.
“Rerro? (pause) Rerrooo?”
—–
How much for the lot of you?” Peter Osseo asks in a neighboring Southeast sim.
“50 lindens,” the talking battymobile responds for both.
“Sold!”
—-
Your job, er, Tom — just like before — is to guard it day and night. Just stay here. I’m going to find out what makes this baby tick!”
“It’s like a really — loud clock,” mafia dude Tom Blinks complains softly, then wonders the obvious.
Too late.
——
Peter Osseo wakes up with a start…
… then vows to get rid of that crazy bat wing vanity he bought yesterday on sale asap.
Too late.
—–
Peter Oesso wakes up.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0502, Corsica, Southeast
After the body was found (by Mann’s Dogg), the funeral held (1st funeral after quarantine lifted (!), but still 6 feet apart for grieving parishioners), and the investigation wrapped up by Tank Ferguson’s team down at the station, TronAxis, now Peter again (Peter Esso, or, really, Peter Osseo if I can figure out how to transform the Esso t-shirt easily (see former Esso poster turned Osseo poster back at the purple Marz house in Tyranea)), stands before Gene Kelley’s old place, the town’s Mr. Fix It now 6 feet down in the ground itself over at Storybrook Memorial Cemeteries just off Little Miss Muffet Highway in Slabtown — a kind of permanent quarantine if you will. He’s saved enough money from recent criminal activity to buy, which he does shortly after the dirt is padded down nice and hard atop Gene’s grave. Greasy hands will be the order of the day for many to come. Wife Venus Flytrap (Wheeler in disguise once again) will have her hair slowly turn from blue-green to blue-black to black itself in following months because of the touching, the fondling. For Axis truly loves his sometimes on sometimes off wife, still running from the law like a virtual Bonnie and Clyde but always ending up on their feet. The lucky aspect this time is an inept police department led by a man controlled by his hips and not his head, just like his father before him — Jeep or something, Axis thinks here in his ruminations of victory. The gas station will be a perfect headquarters/front for further criminal activity.
He didn’t murder Gene Kelley/Mr. Fix It himself, but the death was handy for him nonetheless. He and Venus will be staying in Storybrook now for a while. But those pumps will have to be replaced, he thinks while staring over.
Peter’s Garage is born, selling fine Esso Osseo gasoline.
He goes over to the town jail to thank former photography and calligraphy teacher Tom Banks once again.
“Think nothing of it.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0416, Corsica, Storybrook-
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0415, Apple's Orchard, Bogota, collages 2d, Corsica, Jeogeot, Neptune, NWES Island, Silverton
Peter Esso walked right by it on the way the bookstore to look at that map of Michigan again in the old atlas he’d found the day before last Wednesday’s Sunday. Or something. He’d had an epiphany the night before. The two St. Joseph Rivers of that state are actually one St. Joseph Rivers, er, River. “Eureka!” he cried while climbing out of the bathtub, still soaking wet as he padded toward the computer and the map of Hillsdale County he left up on it, a *modern* version but still one indicating where the conjoined sources lie: Osseo.
Osseo, 6000 years in the future.
Thus the purchase of the Esso t-shirt from the Marketplace, and also the old sign reinforcing to himself that he was indeed a tiger (see: Wheeler). And then the name change: SoSo to Esso, but the one embedded in the other thanks to Osseo, he understood.
Wait — he has an idea.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0414, Corsica, Michigan, Southeast, Storybrook-
Sunklands 