Tag Archives: Rabbits 01 02^^+^*$

00460304

“Isn’t this a beautiful view of the harbour, Newt? Just lovely.”

“Well,” opined her opposite eating ice cream partner at the stand. “They could have done a better job with the line there dividing the 2 sides of the texture. Makes it obviously unreal. And the blurring–”

“Blurring only makes it more romantic,” quickly countered Wheeler. “This skyline could be any city in the world you want it to be, any virtual burg for that matter. It could be Sydney to me, Melbourne to you. Our choice. Just pick the most romantic city you know and you’re sitting across from it, eating strawberry or vanilla ice cream, also your choice. You like vanilla, I don’t.”

“We better start talking about Nawt Vaya,” said Newt, tired of meaningless chatter. “Why we came here. To this *rendezvous*,” he couldn’t help tack on again. Next time, he promised himself. Gowns and formal attire.

“Okay.” She finished the last 1 1/2 scoops of strawberry in one huge gulp just to try to speed things up and maybe add a little comedy to the matter, then continued to talk with mouth open and muffled voice. “Ow, fthatt *hurfts*.”

“What do you expect, Wheeler?” he said, watching her now deal with brain freeze. He decides to start while she heals. “Let’s take account of the residents of our fair land there in the center of Nawt Vaya. First off, there’s me and you obviously, then Lexi and Philip over in her house on the south edge of the property, then Fink is around too, then Jack is not far away as well — Jack Dogg, I’m obviously talking about here and not any of the other Jacks we’re attached to now. And then Barry De Boy and Wendy are up in that cottage perched above my own home of Newtonia. Do you like that name, Wheeler? Newtonia? Are you able to properly speak yet?”

“Mmmmm. MmmMMMMMMmm.”

“Obviously not. I’ll continue, then. Then there’s Veyot up on the hill, Pearl just up the coast a bit. Then in Juho we have Greg Ogden who’s also an artist — runs STAB now — and then I believe Nada New Year is there too, and also Carolin. And, let’s see, Peter Melanchton–”

“Gone,” Wheeler managed, ice cream headache finally subsiding.

“Right. And then the girl who’s suppose to take his place as summa cum laude graduate of Nawt Vaya State University and her, er, boyfriend I guess we’ll call him. And then Edward is still around.”

“Backwards positioned waterfall,” Wheeler identified his location. “You’re okay with that? Aren’t you?”

“Ahh, *sure*.” He was 1/2 and 1/2 on the issue but he really didn’t have any choice. Unless he did. He’s trying. Date first, then other things. Has to start with a proper date, which apparently this wasn’t. He tries to focus on the census again and away from the Wheeler+Edward continuing issue. “And then Princess Pinky Gumm.”

“She doesn’t count.”

“Oh…. right.” Newt remembers that Wheeler is playing that role, actually. “And… I can’t think of anyone else. Can you?”

“OH. I saw… I saw *Frank*! I totally forgot to tell you.”

“Frank?”

“Yeah. *Frank*. In Juho. At the barber shop when I was getting my hair cut the other day. I was getting the Butterfly No. 25 while he just sat there getting nothing, no styling no treatment, no anything. *Frank*,” she emphasized.

“Frank *who*?” Newt had to question. There were a couple, including a bunny man who hadn’t figured into the plot of these here photo-novels since the middle of the last. But it turned out to be Frank Lynn of GTAV fame.

“And Sep Felton was there too,” said Wheeler. “You know Sep. Butterflies again. Over on Corsica. She’s a stylist in both places. I didn’t even ask her how that worked, dufus that I am. I was *so* focused on getting it all chopped off, letting my scalp breathe again as Winter turns into Spring. I want the Butterfly, I said excitedly almost when I came in the shop. I didn’t realize the synchronicity.”

“You should always be paying attention to synchronicity. Why we’re here,” summarized Newt.

“I know, I know.”

“So… let’s start exploring and we can talk more.”

“My line!”

Someone in desperate need of a haircut himself, or herself, came walking into the picture. It, we’ll call them to remain gender neutral.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0304, Jeogeot, Juho, Nawt Vaya, NVFS, SG Park, The Burg

00450511 (De Mosbulten)

Okay, better zoom out and see where I am from this tip.

Oh, a Cock and Balls Lake (!), he he. But, let’s see, what direction should I be walking in, then?

—–

“See?” she said, pointing to the same kind of image found in one of those haunted places we were still exploring. “A red arrow indicating direction. That means we should turn the lights on to something.”

“I see.” Resonance.

—–

Turns out he was heading too far east from southeast after leaving Nijnsel (“Windytown”) about an hour back and needed to course correct here.

Which he did to reach the pictured house below.

Ahh, back on track, he thought, noting illuminated Philips Stadion in the distance from around the building.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0511, Europe, Google Street View, Holland, MFS

00450509 (25?)

Banned from my Nautilus homeland by an overprotective mother fearful of stalkers, suitcase in hand I walk just outside its boundaries and set my eyes and aim on the fabled wall city of Perch-Mistletoe just yonder up on that beige ridge, with half banned itself (Perch?) but the other 1/2 free to roam (Mistletoe?) and even live within as I currently understood the situation. But I ended up going further — to Yd Island in the sw of the continent and revisiting another sacred place that seems untouched and uneroded by the sands of time. That of the Ratzenburger Rabbit, one of my own. I get ahead of myself. I have to talk about Lexi front and center.

She drives up on her rough sounding, rough looking motorcycle basically at the beginning of my journey and soon we’ve joined forces in her quest to find what she simply called The One. “Wanna explore some haunted houses?” she propositions not far into the conversation. Why not? I thought. I have nothing to kill but time.

We started with the one with the barrel. Just on the opposite side of P-M from us. “Just ignore that giant candy sentry over there,” she said as we positioned ourselves a safe distance away from it. “He can’t see you unless you’re standing right under him. Learned that the hard way.” On my part, I was more worried about the suddenly darkness and the need for a flashlight to explore. This didn’t seem like a good omen but too late to back out. I consoled myself by saying that I’d be in the free part of Perch-Mistletoe by dawn’s early light, sleeping under a pagoda or something. Just over there beyond the wall.

And, yep, there was a barrel inside. Lexi seemed relieved that it “mostly contained–,” in her own words, seeming to break off at the end. Mostly contained *what?* I automatically thought upon hearing it. Finish your sentences please.

And then a little later the same thing came up. Pattern.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0509, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe

Redtown

And so, only weighed down by the sand he had to tote along to make it all work, Santman’s career took off, at first rather slow and bumpy but then speeding up as more sand was dropped, symbol of a heavy past — poor as piss-ants they were in the day. Killer of children and babies alike no more. He had achieved Heaven on Earth. And the money certainly wasn’t bad either. Bought his first town over in Montana or Kentucky back in ’68, just before the Robolution that kind of snuffed deals like that out for a while, another type of death. But he personally made it through without having to change into a mechanoid. He figured all those other assimilations gave him some kind of immunity virus.

First he took over New Years Day — easy one. Then he set his eyes on Thanksgiving — about ’96 for that assimilation. Then Valentines Day. Then… Halloween. That was tougher. Had to fend off a lot of upset ghouls and goblins for that one. Then St. Patricks Day. The snakes the snakes. But he made it through with his patented snake popper, as he marketed it later, becomes a saint himself, a replacement one. Good.

Only one really significant holiday stood in his way after that. 4th of Juli, America itself. The Battle of Christmas vs. America begins.

Oh, he thinks in the moment, reviewing his past glory. Forgot about Easter! Dang Peter Rabbit, dang Donnie Darko. Yes America’s transformation into a full holiday state will have to be delayed until he figures that all out. Christmas vs. Easter instead. Red-green vs. blue-yellow, echoes of the Trojan-Durexian Wars creeping in. Perhaps this is even an extension.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0504, Corsica, Northwest^

sole mates

The bottle was flying all about the table outside but Edward was use to it.

Jem exhaled, looked around. “So this is the fabulous Hotel Adriano in Shamon.” Peter Ladd was born here, or at least conceived here, she thought, his parents like rabbits at the time. Why they’re here.

On his part, Edward, her Eddy, brought her to this place for another reason. They weren’t married, but if Edward had his way they soon would be, powers or no. He felt the ring case in his pocket press hard against his thigh. Had to be the perfect time to reveal. Not now… not with the bottle and all. It was flying faster and faster it seemed, with quirky motions like some kind of bug. Distracting. It’s even threatening his head a bit now.

“Dear,” he finally relented. And pointed.

“Oh, yes. I almost forget it’s there these days. Been a while since I’ve had my powers. Ever since…since…”

“Duck?” Edward Daigle offered.

“Yes,” said Jem, remembering the event. She even lost her ability to walk properly, or at least the others had told her that. She went past the 4th wall.

The bottle vanished before Edward’s eyes but only because she moved it somewhere else. “Good to be back on Jeogeot. I… was made here too. Just like Peter.”

“Peter?” Edward questioned, making Jem realize that Edward didn’t know about all that. Wrong probable reality. Besides, he knew she was made in “Gunpowder” (post) set in Dodgey City in photo-novel 31. She is a product of that town, restated and re-angled at the first of the current photo-novel, 36 in a series. In-between, yes, she was in Towerboro on the Jeogeot continent, and Edward was with her there. But she also made appearances in now defunct Ontario without him. Instead there: John. Definitely *not* a hairstylist or hairstyle. Edward knew that now fer sure.

Time for the present, which turned out to be presents. Edward grasped the ring case in his pocket at the same time Jem grasped the just manifested book in her lap. “I have something for–” they both said in unison, then laughed. “You go…” offered Jem, temporarily releasing the book and getting ready to accept whatever was coming across the table. “No, you,” said Edward back, trying to be more conscious of manners and act like a normal person for her.


He wish he hadn’t. He transformed his own present into a joke about 2 horses who couldn’t finish a race because they turned into rats, the ring remaining deep deep deep in his pocket after the one-eyed book was produced. Still Jem seemed pleased.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0204, Jeogeot, Middleton^, Middletown^, Xilted

00250115

She told me to shut the door if I was going to make those kind of rude noises. I hadn’t realized anyone else was here; concluded all of these so-called people were actually bots — unreal avatars. Filler. But she spoke to me while I smoked on the toilet. I was trying to purge myself of Tennessee so I could get back to Elsie outside but here was something different, a real “flesh and blood” type who I might talk to and get actual information from about what was going on in town. Like the old days; pre-bots. The bots, true, saw everything, but they were programmed to move certain places, complete certain gestures. Unless this was a really advanced model from, say, Ohio, there was no way she could speak to me like that. She could hear my noises, she could tell I hadn’t shut the door. I had to go find out who this lady of the darkness was. Maybe my head could override my hips for a change.

I suddenly recognized her while she continued to eat. “Oh. You’re that Oz lady, the one with the puppets. I saw one of your shows.” I saw the *beginning* of one of your shows, he thinks, until distracted by baubles as usual. Not Elsie in that case but another. I think her name was Gertrude.

“What do you know… of Oz? What does *anybody* know of Oz?” She slurped her noodles again, another type of rude noise. Tit for tat. Definitely not a bot.

Then the drunk outside joined us and things got really interesting.

Soon we had quite the crowd and I lit another fag, taking it all in. Chatting! Actual chatting. About Seven. Turns out Bimbo, formerly O’Bimbo, and Jimbo, formerly O’Jimbo were brother and sister, some say twins. Some say: one and the same.

I crouch down like a monkey and wait for the rabbit.

Suddenly I was back at war, like in childhood. “Hold your fire!” she called over.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0025, 0115, Marwood, NWES Island^, Wallytown/Fishers Island^

shared states

“I will withdraw the monkey in me,” she said while standing on the edge. “Crime rates *will* go down in this here Collagesity, 25 in a series of 1.” Who is she to be so small yet so wise?

—–

I still have a definite presence in NWES City over on the Jeogeot continent, just diminished. We’ll see how that develops.

“Dear, can we go to the temple… now?”

“Not yet. I’m still trying on shoes.”

“Lordy, *pheh*.”

—–

Ray’s well deserved pizza should be arriving any minute. He’s forgotten who he is again.

—–

And static. Glorious static.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0025, 0113, Black Ice, Collagesity Fordham, Jeogeot, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, NWES Island^

Line of Linden’s

He was back in the small Linden woods just across the road from the Active Urban Mall, in turn just north of the Urban ice cream parlor — again, no relation that I know of. Point is, he was as far away from the sweets and especially that cursed strawberry-pineapple swirl as possible while still remaining active. Because he had to to fit into the hole, the whole “fit to fit” thing he’d come up with as a slogan, with posters all over the heart of town now. He’d soon be a true, local hero; he *was* a hero. Thanks to him rescuing those rabbit people over in Kitaro from the fires. But he felt he had an obligation to do that. He was, after all, partially responsible for the bomb destroying their quaint village. It should have hit the ice cream parlor! Oh well, The Line dictates where things hit and don’t hit. Take Kingpost: spared during the Great Civil War between northern and southern Maebaleia/Satori, yet conjoined and resonantly named King’s Stone and Druid’s Post a number of sims to the east were bombed almost back to stone; I’ll try to make a post about that horrible event which created confusingly named Lake Kingpost soon.

The woods were chilly tonight, not like the warm, vanilla colored couch of the ice cream parlor where he could lay his still quite pudgy, off-white garbed self like a baby in a manger. This was roughing it in comparison. No sweets, though — that’s the point. He puts his arms around his torso and shivers, eagerly waiting for the coming of sweet golden dawn.

—–

Elvis Kannelvis woke up. His head had been cleared of the remaining effects of the sweets. Cursed strawberry-pineapple! He realized The Line, amplified by the Linden trees around him — just enough to cause the effect — had made him dream strange things, like the burning of Strange Isle, like the bombing of Kitaro when actually Kingpost in the opposite direction was hit — or was it Kings Stone + Druid’s Post? Yes, the latter (two). That’s the explosion Tealy and Tillie saw that day in early May before their visit to Aunt Ginger in an attempt to right things on The Line. Tealy and Tillie were on The Line; Elvis Kannelvis, especially while in the sweets shop, was on The Line; sweet Wendy Wilson dressed in two different dresses soon to be one was on The Line over at her pirate outpost bar in Kingpost. And then finally Aunt Ginger to the far east, as east as you can go on The Line as Kingpost is to the west (and King’s Stone and Druid’s Post kind of more to the middle). Blue Bear Y and Wanda the Lower Minoan seem to be heading to her camp as well. To get a piece of Ginger, although the two visitors to her island are bickering about the decision. Was Wendy actually named Wanda and a secret miniature? That’s only one mystery awaiting us in Section 07.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0024, 0617, Continent's Edge, Gno Kingdom^, Maebaleia/Satori, Outer Islands, Rubisea, X-City^

00240615

An offshoot fireball of the explosion hit Strange Isle, destroying it in the night as the hamlet’s lone inhabitant looks on helpless.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0024, 0615, Maebaleia/Satori, X-City^

Santman

She watched him walk away after they freed him from the Bigfoot picture in the soon-to-be but not yet present consignment store with the old clothes and such. No explanation, no thanks. Just walking. He had to see someone *immediately*. A man posing as an ant, the big hypocrite. Sticking me in that photo with that hairy, stinky… *monster*! He needed to be dealt with. No love here.

He kept walking, right out of Black Ice and into the Great Beyond.

—-

“Harrison Ford Jett,” he spat out. “I sense the force is strong with you, buh huh huh (*sip*), buh huh huh huh (*sip*), buh (*sip*, *sip*), huh.”

“How much for the apples?” He wasn’t in the mood to beat about the bush. He wanted to get rid of the chafing, gnawing things asap; let someone else get gnawed on for a while. He takes another drag off his Chesterton Lite, waiting for an answer that never came.

Instead: “You know Bigfoot.” The half wine colored half ant, half man paused, taking in the surprised expression re his statement seemingly out of left field, or thrown back over a left field fence or something. In truth, he was the shirt she wore, but that will take a bit of explanation. Another night it is!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0402, Bellisaria, Black Ice, NWES Island^, Pickle 01