Tag Archives: Pitch Darkly^*

inside (Long Drive 02)

“Mary, keep blocking the door.”

“Burster Dang?”

“Buster… DAMM.” Pitch Darkly repeated to the receptionist. “He must be in your database. He’s been writing me for going on 2 years now about this place, and his studies in Sinkology.”

“OH,” Melissa Pageant exclaimed, looking Pitch over better. “You mean the *vampire*. A tiny, like his wife. Except she is a tween.”

“A tween?” Pitch was unfamiliar with the term.

“A tiny that can also be an un-tiny — normal, er, like you and me.” She studied the tall, bloodied vampire again. “I mean, like *me*.” She was thinking that Pitch might be another type of tweener, except between normal and giant this time.

“Sooo,” Pitch attempted, “Buster is just a plain ol’ tiny.”

“That’s right Pitch sir… darling. But he can turn even tinier. A bat, don’t you think? My English is still not polished, excuse me, even though I have also been here 2 years. Many, many people come through this place. Tinies are handy…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Buster tells me all about it, how they specifically recruited him. It’s because you can see around them better when in flight. I mean, they can see around *themselves* better. Works well for the scouting.”

“That’s, um, right Sir Pitch.” She looked at Mary now. “But your wife — she is different too?” Mary hadn’t moved an inch since blocking the door a couple of minutes back. Hands on hips, per usual when standing in place.

Pitch glances over at her. “She can sit down too. And fish. Lord you should see that woman fish. She can really reel them in, can’t you Mary?”

“That’s right, Pitch,” Mary readily agreed in her normal, cheerful voice. “Perch is my specialty. But,” she quickly added, “perch is the specialty for the whole continent, er, whole *world*. I bet there’s some in that pond we passed on the back corner of this place. You know, inside the small Linden pine woods.”

“Yes,” the receptionist responded, “there is fish there that I assume. Perhaps your perches too.”

“Ahem,” Pitch urged, indicating the computer and the database pulled up on it. “Buster. Buster Damm, and that’s, D-A-M-M. Like an actual dam but with an extra ‘m’.”

“Oh, that’s funny.” The receptionist giggled briefly. “Like, er, DAMMastock.”

“What?”

“The sink: Finsteraahorn-Dammastock. To go alongside our Grossglockner-Schrekhorn.” The receptionist’s pronunciation was immaculate now. Pitch surmised that she might know German too. Japanese and German, hmmm. What were we dealing with here?

(to be continued?)

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Filed under *Second Life, Maebaleia/Satori^^, X-City

Long Drive 01

“You know it all ends here, Mary.”

“I know. Better bust out Buster from that school-prison, then. And some other stuff.”

“Catapult?”

“You bet.”

—–

“Alright, Mary. The plan is, once I get this thing turned around, to shoot you over the top of that wall and get you inside…”

“Right.”

“Where you’ll find a door somewhere and then let me in.”

“Okay.”

“Ready? Oops. Almost forgot. Have to turn it around first. Ooh. Young man, young man,” Pitch beckons to a boy approaching from behind.

“What’s all this?” he asks in a geeky, squeeky voice. “What are you, heh, doing?”

“Never mind that, fair youth of toothy persuasion. Just help me get this thing aimed the right way if you don’t mind.”

“Are you looking for the front door? ‘Cause I can show you that. You don’t have to hurdle your girlfriend over the wall and risk loosing her forever.

“I’m sturdy,” Mary insisted from above them. “I won’t break.”

“You probably just missed it. It’s pretty small, heh.”

“Maybe we better do it his way, dearest,” urges Pitch, not doubting Mary’s word but still not wanting to risk his own injury turning the heavy catapult around.

“Yeah, heh, right this way.” Preston Weston says.

“Okay. Come on Mary.”

“Ohhhhh.” She dearly wanted to experience the thrill of it all.

—-

“So here we are. And this is as far as I’m allowed to take you today, heh.”

(to be continued?)

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Filed under *Second Life, Golden Sink, Maebaleia/Satori^^, X-City

AOC

Hmm. Still not feeling it.

And where’s Mary? Better get back over to the Blue Feather.

Core avatar Baker Bloch has lost his connection to Pitch Darkly, thought Woody Woodmanson from his snowy abode positioned on the opposite corner of Fal Mouth Moon from Darkly Manor. Still not feeling it.

But it’s time for me to leave as well. New resident moving in. And rent for me! I’ll live in the gipsy wagon behind my own manor; become a gipsy myself, he he. Artist Alley must be built up. But we’ve had a setback with the loss of Julia (cottage).

“You should bring it back, Spongeberg.”

“I didn’t take it in the first place (Julia). I am just the destroyer. I don’t designate what is to be destroyed.”

“I thought…”

“I follow the patterns of the user. Like all of us. Pitch Darkly is having trouble connecting to base avatar Baker Bloch now. That’s because the Head Line (Diagonal) is now being balanced and integrated with the brand new — newly *discovered* Heart Line down more in the southeast part of the continent. Which, when turned around, becomes the northwest part as the hand is postioned rightly. VHC City lies on the Head Line. Collagesity through Rubi Woods: the same. I speak for the user now, as all of us can. We can channel the user. That is the unique aspect of the core avatars. Period.”

Baker Bloch nodded while still listening to Spongeberg Resident, Collagesity’s resident destroyer. Nodding off, that is.

He was in a hotel in the middle of Vermont. Bernie Big Run sat in the southeast corner of the room but he was understaffed and had to take a back seat to…

Who was that in the northwest corner?

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Filed under *Second Life, Rubi

Intro

“Pitch Darkly will be here shortly, Young Duncan. As soon as they start talking to Phillip Linden about The Diagonal, trot over there and lay this giant lime on the bar counter. That’s all you have to do. Just wait here.”

“Yes,” he affirms, hip to Lou’s trip.

“Come on, honey,” says the approaching Osborne Well (father). We have somewhere else to be now. Should’ve been there about 2 hours ago, blimey.”

—–

“You see, Pitch darling. *This* is where it all happens. A philosopher’s corner. A veritable cornucopia of ideas and inventions. Why, just last week Phillip suggested the idea of a cubic moon for Second Life with equilateral gravity on all six sides. Not flat like this place. And I think that’s where it’s all headed, Pitch. Diagonal. Because diagonal leads beyond. Have you ever moved in a diagonal sugar?”

Pitch didn’t really know what Mary was babbling on about. A young black man who had been sitting on the opposite side of the room suddenly moved toward the bar toting a large, green lime between his hands. Not saying anything, he placed it on the counter, then exited via the stairs down to the lower floor.

Phillip became fully awake again, looked at Mary, looked at the big lime. “A lime is called a linden in Britain.”

“Who *was* that shadowy figure?” he begged.

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Filed under *Second Life, Clemscott

he died in Washington D.C.

One wasn’t suppose to do so, but Mrs. Misty Dorn often walked the 150 or so meters from her Philo retro-home to the lip of what “later” became known as the Catsocks Sinkhole, a portmanteau name derived from the Catalpa and Tussock sims which share the depression.

And behind her from this vantage point: the main gallery of hot tempered artist Angelina Dickenson who drove Pitch Darkly and Buster Damm from VHC City spring before last. Like driving Frankenstein’s Monster away from the village with fire, except in this case vampire monsters are involved instead of collaged together, electronically activated beings.

But Misty knew them as tamed pussycats: a rather henpecked Pitch (by Mary) and a somewhat dominated Buster (by Bettie). Like a modern day Fred Flintston and Barney Rubles they are, neighboring Collagesity pals who enjoy going on adventures and do male bonding stuff with each other like bowling for dollars. Totally harmless; the sustaining blood they need now supplied by an herbal substitute distilled from locally grown turnip plants. The progression of monster medicine!

She turned back to the hole. But it all started here. Birthplace of Monsters they will also deem it, not technically true but that is how it will be remembered. Plane crash. Mary had told her all about it. She said everyone within a 1000 meter radius of VHC City came to witness the aftermath. And the insulated crates containing Pitch, Buster and others which were opened, freeing their contents. No humans survived, although they were they ones who wrecked the plane. On purpose. The rallying cry according to legend: “Let’s rock.” The target: well, most would assume the giant Hotel Chelsea itself only 300 meters from the site, not much further away than her own house in Philo. A fascinating and tragic story, which upon retelling Mary usually got a little choked up about. Not only for the dead humans but the still living, breathing monsters who emerged from the intact tail piece. The ones who received part of the blame, however undeserved. Like her husband Pitch. Mr. Mary.

She rose from the ground. But it was time to get back to Philo and meet with Septimius, who offered to come over and escort her down to Swindon’s Coffee and Tea Emporium in the center of town. She had other plans, however. Might as well get it over with because the event was inevitable. She knew Septimius, or the man behind Septimius, and the attraction would reach a logical conclusion. He didn’t have a General Grant tucked away in his back pocket like didn’t-die-in-Vain Abraham Lincoln, but it was still upon him. Thus the reason he thinks the 28th president of the United States is a female. Trees. Giant tree. The largest in the world, between it and Sherman, another back pocket filler upper. Another 2 fer 1, it seems.

With her standard 128 meter draw she could just make out the top of an autumn tree in Philo from this perspective. The town is afire with leaves brightly burning yellow, orange, red. If only their user’s real life world beyond the mirror was so blessed.

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Filed under *Second Life, Heterocera^^, Myron

fluid

“Is it a place of good…

… or a force for evil, this new New Island?

Fishers Island. Eraserhead Man might know, but he’s already done with this particular Collagesity novel, taking his strange troupe of actors along with him. Loaded onto the Isle of the Top Dog, they are; destinations: unknown.  ‘Out there’, as Captain Spocari Nemoy might say. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Bill/Wheeler paused in her story, took a good look at Baker/Pitch sitting opposite her.

Still wearing his Russian hat (she must look up the name of that thing). Still fretting over when Mary gets home, what she’d like to eat on any given night, what wine to buy her, will her several different changes of clothing with different fabrics have to be washed separately or can it be done altogether. Small problems, nothing that can’t be solved with a little more experience and know-how. Yes, he is knitted together with his woman. And as such, he can never really go back to being plain ol’ Baker Bloch any longer. That’s the takeaway about *him* from this novel she’s receiving.

But herself? It’s a more complicated story, involving Philip Strevor, Marion Harding, True Opp (Tropp — *not* Troop). Maybe we can revisit the third one for more answers. Last we checked, he’s still up in New Eden, hanging around with Madam Mexico and Mr. Peanuts.

“But what did Ruby see there?” Pitch then asked (yes, she’s just going to think of him as Pitch from now on). “What is the ending to her Democratic Empire story?”

“Nothing,” answered Bill confidently. “There was no one in the lab. Just a stack of cheese in its center. And… a moth.”

She hesitated slightly, then: “Wait! There *was* someone there. Is!”

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Filed under *Second Life, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island

Burnet

122/122, thinks Baker Bloch playing Pitch Darkly. Accidental uncovery — The Diagonal has power still! As researcher Angus Nuffin, aka Sid, has recently stated. Fantastic. A way to take focus off of the Omega continent and back onto Heterocera. I *knew* there was more to find here. Energy still present. Let’s see how Sid fits on the bed (but mustn’t linger).

Ahh, yes. Perfect. This feels right.


The Diagonal.

Angus Nuffin/Sid. Back on the case again.

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Filed under *Second Life, Heterocera^^, Wallytown/Fishers Island