Tag Archives: PURPLE CUBES

00370616

And so we end photo-novel 37 with more questions than answers, per usual. Many doors have been open; only a couple closed. Hucka Doobie has assumed a major role in the blog once more, this time hanging with artist or at least wannabe artist Barry De Boy, kind of Baker Bloch in a new, different form, perhaps a role he’s been dreaming. New Mexican locations dominated the 1st 3rd of the novel, maybe the longest extended time I’ve spent away from Our Second Lyfe in these here works. But the archipelago continent of Nautilus, still my virtual home, eventually exerted its pull, with all of section 04 being set there — concerned a party held by 2 fans of Edward Daigle, which Shelley Struthers also attended. Shelley, continuing her role from novels 35 and 36, remains our feature protagonist in 37. Also at the party Shelley met Amos T. Sandman again who has shown up in previous novels, and who is then re-encountered by same in section 03 (the events of 03, time-wise, come before 04). Section 05 brings into the picture a new Blue Mountain location I’ve been exploring this spring ultimately called Pink Peak. Mixed in with its posts comes more Nautilus stuff — I had Shelley just hop around to different locations now, exploring virtual reality as I simultaneously did Reality Reality up in the True World. Section 06 attempts to wrap all this energy up with mixed results, I feel. New Mexico makes a reappearance. Newt and Wheeler, Shelley’s father and mother, show up, continuing stories of their own. Squared Root City, where I had the first part of this section set, was suddenly and unexpectedly abandoned, leaving only an empty beige landscape. Other locations that I was working through or hoped to work through were also lost. I became discouraged. Then Newt, just randomly teleporting around my new Nautilus home, found a purple cube in a house owned by a man named Sand, resonating with Sandman’s purple cube populated realm from section 03. I had renewed hope through the discovery. I was still on a trail, a path. All was not lost. Lemon Free State still remains my home. I deposit 31 Real Life dollars into the bank of the Limey Lindens and continue…

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2023 EARLY”!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0616, Blue Mountain, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, New Mexico, Red Hill, Squared Root City, Wild West

Ghergie silhouette

After all the bad news lately, Newt is encouraged by finding a purple cube in a residence owned by a Sands, obvious nod to The Void again, an important important concept now in these here photo-novels, numbers growing bi- or tri-monthly. Things (post generation) seem to be slowing down a bit lately as virtual shifts more to physical, Our Second Lyfe into Real Life. He’d just driven a lime green truck, color symbolic of irreality itself, through a wall in a bar and down a dusty road outta here. Found the center again: Fife. But the levee was dry. Barney was off his tits again, trading places with Otis Campbell as town drunk. Just like in, what was it, Lassie? Anyway, it all seemed fruitless, especially since Squared Root City went away sometime in the past several days. Nowhere now to further the plot of Shelley, with help from her keyboard talented mom, rehearsing her Crazy Blue act. She beamed in just yesterday to find abandoned land, the whole sim of Squared Root now vacant. PHEH (add that to the PHEH category, folks!). And also the bigger chunk of Nightsity got deleted about the same time so perhaps no furthering of the story there either, seemingly, although a small part remains in that case. And so tonight finds Newt just roaming around his new-ish neighborhood in what he’s deemed Lemon Free State (independent from both Lower Austra and Wild West of Nautilus’ declared continental states), trying to figure out if it’s all worth it, the monthly rent to the Lindens, etc. Death wish taking over again. Then the cube: encouragement for a change! Perhaps Grant Hill and his Sprite drinking ways is still around after all, lemon combined with lime to make it all taste better, not bitter.

—–

The blue phone rings in the Sands house just as writer Barry X. Vampire is ready to head back to the Omega continent for more excitement and adventure. Whatever happens, we always have that. The End, which also loops back to The Beginning, ouroboros complete. Must be Wheeler, as in Wilson. Better get it.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0611, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Nightsity, Omega^^, Wild West

downtown again

“Oh I want *something*.” They’d walked right past the haircut place without speaking. Arthur knew better now. And the tattoo parlor didn’t offer a temptation any longer. That was yesterday’s story — sorry; forgot to record. So today — tonight — was the next store up, but nothing seemed to be for sale; all a jumble.

*This*,” she decided despite the seeming lack of ability to purchase, which Arthur then pointed out again. “This,” she reinforced. “We can find the original creator. Not your bitch,” she read. “Not yet.” The neon cat in the moon seemed to be staring at it too, convincing her. She just had a dream about one.

“How about the fingers making the heart over there,” Arthur tested.

“Nah. Lame. *Gushy*.”

“Hmm.” He’d been uttering that a lot during their, was it a vacation? I guess it had to be. Or a second honeymoon after renewing their wedding vows. Edward might clarify. If we could find him.

“Ahh, got it,” she then said after checking. “All this stuff is by the same creator.”

“Hmm.”

“Just stop it. We’ll have to come back when it’s set up.”

“Just what I was thinking.”

“Next store up?”

He looked at his watch. “Not until tomorrow.”

“Oh *phooey*.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0308, Hana Lei^^, Sand Springs

recorder

He watches from afar, noting that she may have Winona Ryder eye. Didn’t she just visit a local hair stylist several days before? He knows she did, although not with the results she wanted. The results *they* wanted? It was a question he had to be asking at this juncture in our story.

—–

Back up to “normalcy”.

—–

“Where you been?”

“Oh just riding around the sand.”

“Hmm.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0307, Hana Lei^^, Sand Springs

Redrüm again

Let’s see, I’ve done a blue dress and a red dress. How about a purple one this time.

A purple cube manifests in the room as sewing Wheeler Wilson thought this. The door opened. Showtime.

—–

“This cat’s ears are soo soft (!).”

“Ma’am — or sir — I hate to rush you but the show’s about to start. Do you want to check in your overcoat or not?” She indicated the indicated sign with the hand and all, warning that the establishment would not be responsible for hats and coats unless checked in at the front.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” She could feel his eyes bore into her back and side. Her *real* son. At long long last. She was actually frozen with indecision. And because she was a chaos object, everything else in the place froze along with her — oops, there goes Doris, not asking questions any longer, not pattering her fingers impatiently on the counter. 7:21PM. Son Cory’s shoulders also move for the last time in the recognition. Mother.

Spade tattooed bartender Sarah escaped with her gum *just* in the nick of time, but heart tattooed assistant Rosalyn didn’t make it. A bit too red herself, I suppose.

—–

Alright Jackie. Explain to me *one* more time about how you escaped the crematorium? And where’s Don?”

“Burt. His name was Burt.”

“*Was*? So… he’s dead. He did his duty.”

“Yes. I guess.” She started crying. “I don’t know.”

“And the rooooocckks??” They were the most important thing for Officer Davis Jefferson, the most complete bastard of a guy on the town’s force, ever in pursuit of the notorious Black Lake Gang and his one-to-one ultimate archrival Brutus, who also goes by Ted. Curious: So close to Burt; just rearrange the beginning letters a tad, a pinch, after dropping off the US. And where were we? Back on Nautilus? It might be so, although the map says Maebaelia. We’ll coordinate and synchronize asap.

Better stop questioning the dangerous bitch and handcuff her, Jefferson thinks here. Haul her unfried ass back to hq.

It wasn’t Brutus but it was a pretty satisfying arrest nonetheless. Might get him a promotion to sgt., even, which would be bad for everybody, the law, law abiding citizens, and crinimals all.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0412, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, NORTH, Slaashsides

character elimination (he wasn’t really that important to the story anyway — or was he?)

Liz is somewhere here, thinks Keith B., spying the guts of the place from a high point in one of its vineyards.

Watch out!

“Did you hear that??”

“Sounded like an explosion!”

A new cube appeared down at the beach. Ready for transport.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0702, Little Hell, Omega^^, Southern

deeper South now…

“How much to see Arthur?” she said out of the side of her mouth while eating. Or at least pretending to eat.

Jerry sighs. He’s not even going to try to correct her again. “10,000,” he says not crisply, like before, but resigned. He doesn’t even look at her, which was customary before a sale to show he’s earnest about the deal.

“Roll me a three, Earnest,” he says over to the cigar toking taker across from him. “1000 on the 3.”

Roll…

“Okay, that’s the last one,” Earnest says, watching it come up again. 10 ones. What are the odds? “Closing up, Harry. Gotta get back to the ball and chain for a little ball breaking heh heh.”

“Jerry,” corrects the actor about the name. He looks offstage at the director, slumping over a bit. “Geez, Kurt. What is that, the 10th time?” He rolls his eyes for everyone around, not hiding his frustration — or was it amusement? — any longer.

“Just do it in the same take,” came the opinion in a steady, non-agitated voice from the side. “Start with the flubbed sentence.”

The actor playing Earnest clears his throat a bit, then: “Closing up, Jerry. That’ll be 10,000 dollars. Gotta get back to the balls and—” He starts laughing, snorting even, joined by some offstage. 11, he thinks while rolling the dice just for kicks this time, then laughs even more at the results.

—-

Meanwhile, nearby Jimmy watches the cubes keep coming as a pawn falls off the table.

Or was it Johnny?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0612, Little Hell, Omega^^, Southern

continuing…

“I tell you, he’s listening in. He always seems to be listening in.”

Roger looks around, spots robot servant Ruttitutti apparently staring at them from the far wall. “Maybe he’s just concerned about our drinks, monitoring the fluid level.”

“What about everyone *else*, then,” returns Greta van Sustenance, also looking around but then realizing no one else had food or beverage. Maybe Roger the Green Grey Alien was right. Maybe this was all paranoia caused by the insanity of the situation. Rounding up poor little fairies of all things. Just because a man with a spider on his flag says to do it. She’s trying to figure a way out. She has reason to fear. Wanda.

Moving on…

Roger’s friend’s cousin Jack ignores another appearing purple cube on his way to get more cigarettes, understanding his priorities. Smoke first before reporting any other oddities. So many lately! He wonders what is happening, but only outside, on the deck, after the first exhale of sweet sweet Marlboro passes his lips.

Ruttitutti delivers a bottle of champagne to Kelli and Lynnette and starts monitoring them as well.

“50 a day,” says Kelli. “That’s what he said he wanted the goal to be. They’re rounding them up from every corner of southern Omega. Soon there won’t be a bloody one left. Whaddaya think?”

“I think (she spots Ruttitutti as well, looking on) I’ll go to be beach today to show off my new swimwear. Chancellor’s Choice!”

Oh, here might be something. K.C. was having trouble identifying a target.

Old Saint Louie, another alien but of a lizard variety this time, suggested spelling it targuit in the search, or, better, two words: Tar Guit. “That should do the trick,” he finished, then moved on to the next underling after seeing success reached.

Did the guard station then effect the newest and latest and most effective bombing of the Moray Docks Village, completely vaporizing it now, making sure the backwards, guitar oriented punk-folk musicians Tar and Guit were still at the center? And: is one of them really *George*? Shelley’s George?

More clarification:

Another purple cube, this time by the water cooler as first spotted by skinless Antelope alien Cobumblia. But she was on her way to fanny aerobics and didn’t want to deal with the reporting paperwork, much like Jack. In fact, I think they’re cousins through friends as well. Along with Johnson…

… who has a stomach ache today and is on his way home to the guard compounds after telling his boss. Don’t come back, Petter Cotontail thinks. One too many aches of this and that kind. He’ll report the green alien bastard — Shufflers, *pheh*. He might even be joining the fairies later, the waste of space that he is. Maybe Shufflers can be added to the extermination list, along with — if he had his druthers — Orks, Porcupeople and a couple of others. He settles back in his chair, eating another truffle.

That better be it for tonight. Sorry Liz!

“MessiaenSphere,” she cussed.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0609, Little Hell, Omega^^, Southern

00350608

“We’ll never get out of here, Vineyard, you know that. They’re not going to stop until we’re all dead.”

Wizard Wells’ fellow winged companion in the moment was staring at Shelley’s shirt, trying to forget his troubles. “What is… Pepper?”

“Old sham presidential candidate,” she answers. “Same with this.” She changes into another.

“Nifty,” says leafy, veiny Vineyard, also wondering about the black hands. Was she turning black overall? Yin (back) into Yang? Maybe its just the panic from the impending… doom. After a moment of lightness, his heart sinks again.

—–

“You’re next, Magenta,” guard Jettison called through the chain fence topped with barb wire. “You free ones can’t flitter away from us forever. We’re working on it, mind you. We’ll get there.”

It was a kind of threat Magenta heard every day around 2 o’clock. When she showed up to encourage her friend’s cousin Wizard. Hang in there, she thought from her tree. The outer one hadn’t given up hope even as the inner one resigns to termination.

But what was Shelley doing here in a fairy concentration camp?

Let’s try something else for more clarification:

Yikes, *another* one, thought Harlie, now up above it all in a large guard tower station. The purple cubes were appearing *everywhere*.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0608, Little Hell, Omega^^, Southern

Big Boy

When I was a boy, I use to have dreams about The Void, but I remember them as a TV show.

Always the face, always the eyes. The girl reached out but could never find me. She remained trapped.

I can’t recall her name. Shirley?

“Shirley?” I called in the past. No answer.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0309, Hana Lei^^