Tag Archives: Precious Snowflake

thankfully

Axis certainly gets around. Here’s he’s on an island in the northeast part of Heterocera (Eggar sim). It’s hot down here at the beach, and he pulls off his duster coat and carefully lays it by the shoreline. He must get back to the art store soon. Too bad he can’t wear those paint splattered paints they sell for free within…. merely a mesh figure he is. But perhaps they’ll fit burgeoning artist Annie to the T.

Or Bill.

Or Mabel.

One way to find out…

—–

“Aren’t they just the dreamiest, Turch?! Now when Baker Bloch reopens the Red Umbrella we’ll be back in business. Buurb should be here soon.”

“Sure,” reassures Turch, because he knows Mabel can’t take another loss like her brother Little. But probably she won’t have to. Most likely, yes.

—–

“I can’t do this Precious; put your wings back on. I have to find Mabel.”

“I… understand.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Heartsdale, Heterocera, Rubi

gone 02

“So you see, PS. It was never suppose to come to this. You over there. Me here.” Baker Blinker then looks down the pier toward the center of town. “Oh Me Gods. Here comes Buurb. You’re not suppose to be seen with me. Gotta scram!” Baker Blinker disappears. Precious Snowflake is alone when Buurb walks up. He didn’t spot Baker Blinker sitting with his Heartsdale friend. Else his brains would have been even more scrambled up than what they already were.

“Thank God, Precious. Someone I know. Are you alright? Is the mission okay?” He spoke rapidly, not letting Precious get a word in edgewise. “The town! It’s changed. I’ve walked all around it now, trying to find… *someone*. And here you are. Not at the mission but here. But this place is new too. A coffee shop, eh? Mabel would be pleased. Have you seen Mabel? I’ve tried and tried to reach her on the hot phone but no go. Do you have a phone? Perhaps yours would work better in this… new environment. Are you okay?” he repeats. “God I have to take a leak, Precious. I can’t even find a bathroom I’m familiar with! You know my condition.”

Precious Snowflake took it all in. She remembered the blueness, the change. Pink to blue and blue to pink. The mixed up boy-girl. Leeman.

Or Leemon.

“You walked right past someone on the way up here,” she said nonchalantly. “Did you not see them?”

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Filed under *Second Life, Heartsdale

storied house 02

It was a beautiful house, but quite prim heavy at 195li. And that’s unfurnished. Impractical, most likely, to set up in present day Collagesity except on a temporary basis. And Mabel wasn’t going to go *back* without it, I don’t think. So it looks like they’re stuck in Heartsdale for a while longer.

Although well beyond its glory days, the town still retained some interesting landmarks. There was the coffee and sweets shop on the corner of Blown Apart and West Anglia. This is Mabel and Buurb’s favorite table within they’re sitting at here, with the great view toward their house (their house??). Mabel usually only drinks coffee. Buurb sometimes gets a whole wheat danish roll, like today. Mabel knew there wasn’t any use in trying to change Buurb’s mind over leaving, so she instead talked about New Island and how they got here. She sometimes read her associated diaries to Buurb late at night while they, let’s say, sipped cognac and munched on taffy popcorn.

It all revolved around the vinyl version of “Sometime in New York City” and the void in the center of Lennon’s solo career it represented. Slavery? That’s what they often discussed, and, yes, occasionally argued about. Very occasionally. For Mabel was against slavery of any kind in any fashion. Buurb made some qualified exceptions.

“Take the South after the Civil War,” he said today after taking the first bite of his roll and then setting it back on the small plate.

“No, don’t go there,” his wife demanded, also wishing her husband wouldn’t speak with his mouth full.

He chewed and swallowed; lightly smacked his lips. “Given 5, 7, 8 years, don’t you think President Lee would have freed the slaves himself? And the South might have been better going that route. Take carpetbaggers…”

“I *said*, I don’t want to hear it.” She ‘d have nothing negative spoken about Stove Top Lincoln. Andrew The Tailor Johnson, however, was often open for potshots. But she wasn’t in the mood this morning. She kept thinking about the house across the street. It was and wasn’t their house; another quandary. They were married there, true. But they also still lived in the trashy alley that followed from Old Church Street beside it across St. George Street at its front. The sale hadn’t been finalized. And the mortgage would be 2 full months’ wages between them (!). Could they really afford it? Were they digging a financial grave they would never emerge from? But the house! So perfect. If I could just get it to Collagesity, Mabel thought, we’d have a piece of property with no attached tax, no attached anything; that’s how things work there.

“Look at Pitch Darkly,” she said to Buurb another time on this subject. “Look at Woody (Woodmanson). Refuges… like us. The Bakers take them in, make sure they’re wanted and provided for. You’d like The Bakers, Buurb.”

“I knew Baker Blinker,” he corrected. “Or I at least knew someone who claimed to be her.”

“Oh yes,” Mable said, a pang of jealousy crossing her heart. Her Heartsdale heart. “Precious Snowflake.”

Because she was still around. We’ll revisit her soon and find out more of her story.

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Filed under *Second Life, Heartsdale

Precious

snapshot8784_001

Holding back, Urch found Precious Snowflake upstairs sitting in front of the mission’s computer console. She was unsure of her feelings about the small, beautiful blue fairy lady. Urch had known for quite some time that she preferred girls over boys, and initially she certainly had a crush on Precious that wouldn’t stop. But now this had started to change or morph. A dream being had come into her life.

“I know you’re over there, Urch. Your stomach!”

Urch laughed about her tummy rumblings. Hard to tell when they’re coming from inside you if others can hear them. Now she knows.

“And about the dreams — you’ll be happy to learn that some of them are already recorded, as I’m reading now. (But) the girl you took into the woods is looking for you in the wrong place. I see an island lit, or I should say, *un*lit by a new moon. Darkness all around. The girl is in darkness.” She turns toward Urch; such a beautiful face, she thinks. “You must find her or all is lost.”

“I *want* to,” speaks Urch. “But how?”

Precious was frank. “Do you still love me?”

“Of course,” states Urch.

“But not in that way any longer,”

“I don’t know,” says Urch. “We haven’t done anything to, um, consumate it.”

“You know I am untouchable,” replies Precious Snowflake. “If you need pleasure in that manner there’s always Tronesisia. She was built for all that.”

“Not interested again,” replies Urch, having heard this suggestion quite a number of times now from various camp members.

“Do you know who I am? Who I *really* am?” She turned toward Urch.

snapshot8785_001

“You are Precious Snowflake,” Urch says routinely. “You are yet another refuge in our camp, having come here after the great war that saw Bennington and Ob-blong combine forces against Fairywold.”

“Yes, I am that. I want to show you something. Have you seen my bones?” She shows Urch her “bones.”

“Quite a number of times,” Urch replied. “Still not sure what it means.”

“And my skeleton?” Her figure then alters even more into blue abstraction.

“Several times, yes,” Urch states.

“And how about *this*?”

Pink had switched with blue. It was a new development to Urch. “No,” she replies. “I haven’t seen you change even more beyond the bones and skeleton. Who are you?”

snapshot8784_002

“Guess.”

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Heterocera, Rubi