Tag Archives: Pitch Darkly

switcher

“You see, it’s so peaceful in here compared to your church.”

“My *former* church. I’m with you all the way, Pitch darling,” Mary whispered back to her vampire husband. “Martha Lamb’s just gone plain *loco* with these urges of hers…. exposed for what she really is if you ask me.”

“Precisely. The Cult of Oo’d always admits such urges and encourages their uses. Cheese blocks them out. But cheese *is* the urges.”

“Can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

“Right.”

Bill, the Queen of Collagesity, finished up her rant and turned toward the victim. It was always the same ritual.

“Don’t kill me, sir, er, ma’am,” the bound clown begged. “I have so much to live for!”

—–

“Oops! That was really a squirter, Pitch, haha!”

But then suddenly loud talking Mary, all eyes upon them, turned red herself from embarrassment.

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Filed under *Second Life, Rubi

Darkly Manor

“Looks like no one’s coming to our little soiree, Osborne.” Pitch appears to listen to a nonexistent voice across the table from him, white hand to white ear. “What’s that? You forgot to send out the invitations to your 478th birthday?” Pitch settles back into his black widow chair. “Well, yeah I did, Osborne. Because I want to be alone with my thoughts tonight. And you my friend, with your batty, flying books, don’t count.

Main problem: His wife Mary had gone with Martha Lamb to the *main* Fries with Cheese Church over in the Pond District to meet the higher ups, she said, seemingly so excited about the visit that Pitch’s birthday was forgotten. Oh well, he tried to rationalize. It wasn’t the 475th or the 480th or any of the important ones. Pitch himself forgot his 321st, 351st, 378th, 421st, and 457th. But having a wife is different; in his mind, he was thinking she was suppose to remind *him* of such occasions.

Did he do something to offend her? he wondered. Let’s see, her birthday is February 25th. Checks to that — he got her a nice bouquet of roses, red and blue both. 1st Date Anniversary — also a check. White lilies this time. At least a half dozen, he speculated. “Osborne,” he pipes up again, “you’re good with counting. How many lilies did I give Mary for our date anniversary?” He listens to the nonexistent voice again. “12, hmm. Twice as many as I remembered. See, there’s no reason for her to be pissed off at me. It *had* to be an oversight.”

But his thoughts turn again to Sister Martha Lamb, a person he did not trust one iota. Mary has had private counseling sessions with her up in that stinky church of hers and always came home acting a little weird to him, like a distance had formed between them. She was quite happy and content to accompany Pitch to the services at the Cult of Oo’d Church before the coming of Lamb and her Fries with Cheese intrusion next door. Sure she was disgusted and angry that time some of the sacrificial blood squirted her way and ruined one of her Sunday Best dresses. They don’t sit in the front pews any more; problem solved.

A knock at the front door downstairs. Pitch looks hopefully over at Osborne. Mary! he thought. Rushed home to apologize.

But it was “only” his good friend Woody Woodmanson from up the road, large present in hands. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a party,” his wooden comrade relayed to him after the handoff. You know how many friends you have in town. But I guess you and Mary probably just wanted to be alone, hehe.” He tried to nudge his friend in the ribs, but just swiped air. Woody was not the most coordinated of avatars

Afterwards:

“This is not what I expected Osborne. He’s always given me keys before.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Rubi

The Point of Barnaby Point

“The 3rd, Baker Bloch. Er, Pitch Darkly. Maybe you should just *turn into* Pitch Darkly since you seem to like the character so much. Right Mary?”

“It might be nice,” Mary said from behind them. She then hunches over further so she can see the Wisconsin map with the proximate New Island and Fisher Island better. “Do you think this will convince this Leeman or Leemon? There’s Sunset Beach in the lower right corner (after all).”

“His childhood home,” Bill finishes. “Well, it’s obvious something is going on in this and that other Wisconsin location at least.”

“Outagamie County,” Pitch Darkly adds. “Leeman there as well which is also Leemon, mirroring the Leemon in Missouri. Only other one.”

“Right,” reinforces Bill. “You getting all this Mary?”

“I… think. Where’s the Wisconsin Leemon? Do we have a map of it as well?”

“Of course,” declares Bill, returning to the Oracle home page and looking up ‘Leemon’. Only 2 hits, as she stated: Leeman, Wisconsin (which is also called Leemon as a variant, at least according to the Oracle) and Leemon, Missouri. She clicks the appropriate link and adjusts the map.

“Just a placemarker,” continues Bill. “But perhaps an effective one. Subtle but effective. It’s in his home county, you see. The new one.”

“Oh.” Mary scratches her head. “So Fisher Island is right next to New Island in Beaver Dam Lake, Wisconsin…”

“The two biggest islands of 22 in that lake,” Pitch tacks on. “And that’s the only New Island in America besides the one in the big swamp in Georgia. (Which) probably doesn’t count.”

“Fisher Island is a blog invention,” continues Mary, slightly irritated at her train of thought being interrupted. But she gets over it quickly — fascinating subject for her. “New Island is also a blog invention but… connects to Leeman or Leemon’s New Island through Barnaby Point. Barnaby Point exists in both.”

“Correct, Mary,” replies Pitch, proud of his studious spouse. For he had married Mary on March 25th of this year in the Cult of Oo’d Church, the only place of worship in town at the time. One could say they were still in their newlywed phase. With all the attached highs and lows, of course. Tough dealing with New Life situations; but they were managing. Now that Pitch was out of the thick of his Russian phase. Still… the statue… “Art gallery laden Barnaby with its Barnaby Point in *his* New Island also being near the Sunset Beach of *his* New Island,” Pitch states. “Couple of miles apart.”

“Artist Point,” utters the freelancing Mary. “‘Artist Point Interactive’… that’s the *Hazel meeting*. Mentioned in Pot Head’s and Sheriff’s new business blurb in the ‘New Island Gazette’ *Our* ‘New Island Gazette’.”

“They are no longer Sheriff and Pot Head in this blog,” corrects Bill. “They are Marty and Jay or Jay and Marty — take your pick. They are too stoned at any one point — get it? point — to care which of their names comes first, I would venture.” Bill was known for her bad puns, but at least she has a bit of a sense of humor now. Unlike olden times when she first came to power in Collagesity. She’s softened. “I’m tired,” she suddenly declares. “This meeting is over. Go back to your Darkly Manor and think of things to discuss in *our* next meeting. Which is tomorrow. And I expect *you two*” — she turns and points to the two 4 handed librarians sitting around The Table — “to contribute as well. And not just ‘carrot’… and ‘glasses.’ Something substantial and with meat that we can lay out on the table and feast upon. Beef or chicken. Or at least fish. Can you do that for me, hmm?”

The librarians stare at each other, knowing they can’t.

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island, Rubi

form in back

“You’ve gone too far this time, husband of mine. And you better get home — you’re changing over again.”

“So can I keep it?”

—–

“I recognized him immediately, The Bill.”

“Bill will do. We’ll think about the royal appellation later.”

“Okay. But it was definitely Smelly Santy. You remember — from the Mission. The eggs, Bill. They must have killed him (!). The Bennington experiments.”

“Nasty place. Even I would admit that.”

“And then you would meet another Bunneh on your way here. Bunneh 01 and Bunneh 02, then. Maybe it happened the same night even.”

“It did,” assured Bill.

“Baker Blinker thinks it may even be this Leeman or Leemon who designed the other New Island. I almost said ‘more real’ but caught myself.”

“Right. Both New Islands are equally real. And there’s a third we haven’t talked about.”

“Russian,” Baker Bloch stated, ignoring mention of the third for now. “Before independence, his New Island was Russian territory. I’ve been reading the relocation guide. I believe the place is as real as Australia, as New Zealand.”

“India,” Bill added. “Indonesia.”

“But not any more real than, um, our New Island.”

“No, not really. Because we, you and I and anyone else who cares, can *go* to our New Island. Physically for us; virtually for our users.”

“But one is latched onto the other. They are — not two plants from one seed. What (expression) am I looking for?”

“They are like babies from the same mom. Which begs the question: who is mom?”

“Mum,” Dwayne speaks in sync from the side. “We’re so sorry. The chef has burnt the tuna. Would you like to substitute perch for the entree?”

“Perch, perch, perch,” complains The Bill, back in form. “Perch at Perch, go get the perch at Perch. The perch is the best dish at Perch. Always pushing the perch. Well…” and she sends a riveting stare at Sidechick Corea’s brother, formerly out of a job and down on his luck in Heroin Town, “serve me the tuna, burnt or not. Serve!”

Dwayne scurries back to the kitchen, retrieves the burnt item, then tells the chef to pack it in — he’s done cook’n too. We’ll catch up with the chef’s story (Angus Nuffin) later, for he would get his revenge.

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island, Rubi

Lo point

“I am the 9th, Mary.”

“That’s great. Are we done (with the snapshot)? Let’s walk over to the insane asylum, if so. Let’s go see Adelaide.”

“Alice’s (Alices?) nowhere to be found. We reside in the Ukraine now. Russian is sooo yesterdays.”

“Let’s just *go*.”

“Oh all right,” Pitch Darkly relents and gets up to head westward. Into Russia territory again. New Island, pheh.

—–

The portal entrance to Lake Tethia. Pitch allows Mary to get all angley and fish for perch a moment, with immediate success.

She schemes to make a list of Pond District pools and their angling potentials. Would Pitch allow her to complete the project, though, given this is “Russian” territory now? And what’s *wrong* with her husband? Would he return to normal after all this “Number 9” stuff is done?

Unable to get through today, however — the property seems blocked. Did they do this specifically to keep Pitch out of their village? These Ruskies? He hates them now, whatever the actual facts.

Northern side here: he’s just not having much luck. Pitch black blocks him again.

He decides to teleport back home and try again another time. Mary, of course, follows him there. What a lamb.

—–

Later, in the consulting room at the Collagesity branch of Fries with Cheese…

“You must leave your husband. *Immediately*.”

“I’m over here,” the distressed Mary beckons.

“I’m sorry,” Sister Martha Lamb apologizes. “I can’t… seem to turn my head… to the left right now.”

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island, Pond District, Rubi

Darkly Manor matters

Mary sometimes couldn’t sleep at night. “Do you really have to wear that hat to bed, Pitch,” she might declare, waking up her vampire spouse. “It sometimes flaps over into my face.” “Yes,” Pitch would always reply. “I’m Russian through and through now, even while sleeping.” “And I thought vampires sleep during the *day*,” Mary added one time, receiving an answer so convoluted she never brought the subject up again.

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Filed under *Second Life, Rubi

holy 02

By the time The Bill had returned to Collagesity, Pitch Darkly was already well into his Russian phase. He had recreated Maebaeleia’s Russian Matrix in the town skybox, a Second Lyfe landmass he insisted on calling the *Russian* continent and not the Japanese Continent, although the latter was its most common nickname (Just to be clear here, many consider the continent’s primary name to be Satori and not Maebaleia, but let’s don’t go into that right now). “Look at the Jeogeot-Maebaleia Rabbit Hole,” he would argue with Buster Damm and others who expressed confusion about his terming. “The Maebaleia end is in Ubab… Ubablab…” “Ulyanovskuly Oblast,” Buster might correct Pitch on any given night. “Yes, the oblast or politcal region where Lenin was born, true,” he might say. “That’s the only way it worked,” Pitch then could continue. “Russian… or actually *Polish* in that movie with the 47 Room…” “‘INLAND EMPIRE,'” Buster Damm might accurately insert here. “Yes,” Pitch could reply, “the Jeogeot-Maebaleia Rabbit Hole is the same as the hole or portal in that movie, caused by pressing a lighted cigarette through a folded piece of cloth. That way you become Rebus Caneebus and fall in. All the way to Russia. Or Poland.” “‘Back in the USSR,'” Buster might tack on in an attempt to wrap the topic up and move on to other things.

The Ulyanovskuly Oblast side of the Rabbit Hole had long been smoothed over, but once it looked like this:

The other side of the hole, in the sim of Blackmount in what I call the Sunklands district of the Jeogeot continent, remains intact quite amazingly, thanks to the faithful stewardship of long time owner Alyx Sand, with whom I exchanged a couple of messages over the subject some years back now. As I recall, she inherited the hole, and made the obvious connection that it was a rabbit variety leading to parts unknown. Pitch has since followed up on my initial contact, asking if Alyx ever fell through the hole when it was actually and truly operable. Before the time of direct teleportation between two distant points in Our Second Lyfe, in other words. She indicated to him that it no longer served that function when she purchased the land in 2007.

Pitch has made several pilgrimages to the Blackmount hole in the last several months, falling in on purpose each visit just to see what would happen. No “bottomless pit” this time leading to another “dimension.” Only immersion in a small pool of Linden water at the terminus of an approx. 100 meter fall. Try it for yourself!


“Hmmm, a WWII American fighting plane on the extreme corner of the Sands property,” Pitch thinks. “An F4U-1D Corsair, vers. 2.5,” Buster Damm might clarify here.

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Filed under *Second Life, Jeogeot, Maebaleia/Crabwoo, Rubi, Sunklands