Part 02…
It was a tight squeeze but she made it, newly placed crown just fitting under ceiling. Top of the kitty tower, Queen of the Basement. She surveys her queendom and deems it needs cleaning up. Pretty badly. She’s lost control of her 15 year old girl and 4 year old boy, her subjects. Better return to the Room and draw out a plan.
But she looked and looked but couldn’t find her way back. Just walls. She forgot that she was already in the Room. And always had been.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0114, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe, Planet Q, Upper Austra
“A search for *all* FENST geographic features in the GNIS national database of such only brings up 7 hits, including a Finstad Lake (lake) in MN with variant names of FENSTad Lake and FENSTed Lake, which is why it showed up on my list since I allow those. Notice this is found on a Picket Lake topographic map there, which piqued my interest because another name in this list starts with Fence: Fencemaker Canyon (valley) NV, also on a Fencemaker topo map and with a variant name of FENSTonmaker Canyon. Again, why it showed up in the list. Picket fence, then, see.”
“Picket fence, okay. Go on…”
“All this stemming from (the) FENSTar (sim) of the Big E/Big Schwa sitting before us.”
“I think I gathered that (already).”
“Cool. Soo, this led me to thinking about the old house I bought recently surrounded by this type of fence. Why I bought it actually.”
“*Before* the finding of Fence and Picket in that list,” I tried to clarify across from him, staring at the Schwa side as opposed to his E side. We were just that complementary.
“Correct. So that… leads to this.”
—–
Karl enters the old house to discover nothing inside except cobwebs and musky smells. But then circling around it he finds this. Cellar door. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0108, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Minnesota, Nautilus, Nevada, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra, Xilted
Picket fences usually go along with good things like moms and apple pie and blue skies but not in this case. GTA San Andreas’ Carl Karl approaches cautiously from below.
“When did that creepy old house get up there on the ridge, Newt?” now black haired Wheeler said over to her sometimes boyfriend, oft times husband on the swing with her. They were just that close, counterparts if not technically soulmates. Since the latter technically doesn’t exist if you’re thinking of things like 1/2 + 1/2 = 1. That’s why they don’t need to get married like Newt desired… again. But Wheeler still wanted to show him the front and the back of it all, just to get that out of the way and allow them to continue on with their virtual lives. Still together. Apart and together as one.
“I don’t know,” answered Newt, looking around the figure of Wheeler beside him to observe something else now. “But someone’s on the porch, about to go inside by the looks of it. Black man.”
“Black man,” echoes Wheeler. It’s as if it just appeared out of nowhere. Like Wheeler’s new hair. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0107, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra
—–
Answer:
Green Thumb Rd. Master Gardener. To be continued?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0311, Jeogeot, Rodentia 02
I’d like to think this is my family. Father mother son.
And over there where the mother is staring? Baederwood. I have that much.
Now to find Dr. Tom who has information about the 2 Hills. Maybe a gardener too?
Let’s start here.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0106, Arkansas, Jeogeot, Rodentia 02, Twin Peaks
“My Mama doesn’t like the way I crucify the Lord in vain. Defend yourself, you and your Crazy Blue.”
She lowered her arms. She went to a place earmarked for such a discussion. Still on the BIONaz Gulch-Nightsity line (of sims) — in this case Dottieback. She checked the whole line last night, just hopping around on it randomly, spotting a potential structure and then beaming in. Worked in BIONaz Gulch’s Fantasyland (pictured above), in Othello’s Nightsity. Maybe it can work again. The “city” here has to develop a bit to make it useful, though, she thinks from her position of power, standing above the line instead of being absorbed. Crucified Christ indeed.
Changing back into her standard garb, she stared at the lines on her screen. Nautilus once more. Continental centerpiece. She smiled at the insights.
Yes this will work, she said, suddenly planning a party down at her new beach house, Edward included. She hasn’t given up on him. Omega. Arthur Kill will come to understand the difference between novel and reality. Takes two to know.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0613, Long Islands, Nautilus, NIGHTSITY, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra, Wild West
Even in Sweet Nanon’s Morning light, it was a creepy place, what with its rickety old picket fence, grown up yard, and weatherworn appearance. Dare our heroine go inside? That would be Crazy. Crazy Ass Blue. Let’s do it!
Turns out the basement was the worst part but that was just because of all the kitty litter, a blockage of sorts. The heroine carefully descends…
—–
Part 02…
It was a tight squeeze but she made it, newly placed crown just fitting under ceiling. Top of the kitty tower, Queen of the Basement. She surveys her queendom and deems it needs cleaning up. Pretty badly. She’s lost control of her 15 year old girl and 4 year old boy, her subjects. Better return to the Room and draw out a plan.
But she looked and looked but couldn’t find her way back. Just walls. She forgot that she was already in the Room. And always had been.
She exits the house disappointed.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0509, Long Islands, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe, Wild West
“Okay, Liz is your kid. I get it. Whether factually or fictionally — doesn’t matter.”
“I am Arthur Kill,” states actor Lemont Sanford beside her, also staring at the “Break the chain” statue by Eva, “but I am also me. We made love in both ways.”
“How do I approach *Liz* with this is what I’m wondering?”
“Tell her we have a common aunt that convinced you to go with me over George — The Musician if you will.”
“Oh, he will,” replies Shelley to this. “I’m kind of sick of the ambiguity.”
“Then tell him.”
“No,” she stands firm. “I’m done with it. The wedding is off. We will get married instead. Just like in the film.”
“What film?”
“Stop it, you know what film.”
“The film of our life?”
She sighs. “We have the same aunt. We are already married in a way, future moved to present. We have a child, 1/2 black and 1/2 white, just like us. *No* ambiguities. We are a couple, a team. I, I mean, *they* brought you back to play Kill van Kull, the sophisticated twin cousin of Arthur. You did swell — too much so, as character became reality, bringing Esther in the picture as well.”
“Act I, scene 7. How could I forget.”
“Cut back to the Inky Man from the Boulder Scene still hiding in the rocks, head in the sand — *cringing* (recoiling) instead of Fred. But it *wasn’t* Chaplin. Instead…”
“Keaton, Buster Keaton,” Arthur, I mean, Lemont finished the thought.
“They were heading for the church. I know where this is now!”
“Let’s go,” he deadpanned. No ambiguities any more. The Cross has spoken.
In this “joke” above, Buster recoils after realizing the potential bride he approached from behind is actually an African-American. Although this joke is overtly racial (one of the few in Keaton’s oeuvre), modern audiences may not realize that at the time it would have been illegal for Buster to marry this woman.
“I’ve watched it over and over,” Shelley says about the scene. “This is overt, *period*; this is a line drawn in the sand. No going back! Save the boulder sequence the rest is trite garbage.”
Lemont Sanford mostly agreed. They’d have to edit, they settled. He had a new role. Let’s begin again; technicolor; picket fences.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0212, Nautilus, NORTH
“Shoo, cat. I’m not actually a bird.
“Hey, watch it! You nipped me you little booger. I’m *not* a *bird* (!). Not really, although, come to think of it, I might taste like chicken.”
—–
A star once more, a pink to match the green in the middle of The Cross which made me dance and drove the toys away, right and left (she thinks).
A red statue created as mate and partner to the blue on the other side of the star-man. Are these toys as well (she ponders)? No (she decides).
—–
I had thoughtful Blue Bird sit at a handy bar while I continued to remotely look around the artsy place set on a high beige ridge of the North, the same Nautilus continent region featured in every other post of this here photo-novel so far, save 3. Staring at her from this angle, I realized that she was also part cat as well as part bird, offering up an alternate explanation for the black cat’s nipping back there, like attracting like. Love nip it was in this scenario, not a hunger bite. Blue Bird considers this as I explain it to her, but rejects it as a partial answer. “We have enough 1/2 and 1/2s in these photo-novels, 35 in a series of 35 so far. Time to go for the all or nothings more don’t you think?”
She was a woman, I was in a gallery dedicated to the efforts and sufferings of women, what could I do? I had to shore things up a bit here; follow her advice put to me kindly instead of harshly, picket fence instead of barb wire. She could have gone with the latter, which would have been more subconsious. Instead: alert and awake, making choices that others would also be pleased with. It satisfied her, I could tell. A suggestion is just that if so framed. I did not have to heed the guidance, although I most likely would have been wise to do so. I ramble…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0211, Nautilus, NORTH
“This is not ideal, Philip Dilip.”
“I know, I know,” he gruffly relented. “It’s all we could afford. Rent here is out the roof!”
“You said something about Clyde. Where is Clyde?” Billy Jean Kidd puts her hands on her hips for emphasis. This was important!
“Um, well, let’s just go meet Marion Harding over at that Vineyard he found yesterday.”
“Vineyard *cafe*,” Billy Jean Kidd corrected, still in a steam. “I could use some coffee. This heroin is beginning to wear off.”
“Well, we had to give you *something* for the trip. And to prepare you for, well, *this*.” He indicates toward the cottage he’d rented just several days back. Their new home: he and the Kidd and Marion. The kid who wasn’t really a kid atall. So the drug part is totally legit, at least in Caledonia. I’ll have to check the local laws on drug use before the 3 settle in. All heavy imbibers they are, Marion with his pot, Philip his pills, and Billy Jean, well, she’s the worst of the 3 now. Old souls can falter in that manner.
“Coffee!” The Kidd begins to stomp in place on the melting snow. “Coffee, coffee, coffee!” She was having a caffeine conniption.
—–
“It’s so laggy here, Philip, Kidd.”
“It’s the beginning of the end,” states Billy Jean plainly. “And where’s my *coffee*?”
“In a minute, babe,” spoke Marion, smooth and gangsterly as always. “Just gotta knock the edge off this pot with some wine. Then we’ll shift — over.”
“Wine, beer, booze, drugs, cigarettes.” It’s all we do any more. It’s like we don’t *exist*.”
Philip and Marion try to absorb the impact of this statement. “*Clyde*” Billy Jean harshly interrupted their ruminations. “The *reason* for the *being*.”
Marion finally thought to take another sip of wine. Buzz was strong this afternoon. Blur the higher regions a bit, the parts he’s not suppose to know yet. The blue above the red. Red wine, blue pot, hmmm. He drinks deeper. Must return to red.
“Well I for one am going to get some sugar… donuts hopefully. Take the bite out of these barbiturates I’m on currently.” Philip scoots his chair back and gets up to go to the other side, across the wooden swing bridge. The side of the cafe that has the coffee. And the pastries.
Marion then stares at The Kidd, who stares back. “You don’t… really like me do you,” Marion states, seeing the hatred in her eyes.
“No, I don’t really like you Marion Star Harding. Not at the moment, anyway.” But Marion thought it went on longer than that. Through eternity, maybe, but that was the blue beyond the red again. ‘Nother sip of wine. Oh… he realized, she just wants some coffee. And I’m here, taking my time, drinking my wine. Slooowly.
“Oh… I see,” he spoke aloud. “You want…”
“Duh,” she interrupted. “Are you through with the wine?” She pauses a beat. “How about now?”
“Listen, doll… kid. We’re here to show you something, Philip and me. There’s something special about this place. It’s not… just about getting away from Caledonia. It’s *fate*.” Marion ends here.
“It’s fate *what*?”
“The, er, Oracle.” He decided just to blurt it out. “It’s in the other side. The pastry part.”
“Well,” states Billy Jean Kidd, unimpressed. “Down the rest of that precious wine and we’ll head over there. Join Philip in his sugar binging. It will probably be cocaine after that. Usually is after sweets. We may have a clear spot between…” — she checks her watch which she actually isn’t wearing — “… between 5:30 and 5:45. That gives us 15 minutes to make some actual sense to each other. Not red… blue… black… yellow. I need some coffee, I need some drugs. We’ll actually *talk* to each other. Like a regular family.” Billy Jean Kidd thinks again how she desires a normal family, not necesarrily a father and a mother instead of 2 fathers — pseudo-fathers. Just… normal. White picket fences, red apple pies, blue skies, green trees, yellow dress — well, she has that… but the rest. She so wants it. And she thought this mythical Clyde might supply it.
Marion finally remembers to drink the wine again. And that they need to get to the other side. He stands up, a little wobbly but then steady (as she goes).
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0613, Caledonia, Rose Heaven-
Sunklands 