Tag Archives: Rebl^^++

November 2, 2021 · 6:47 pm

reversed

The sim above Bart had finally turned from a raspberry shade of color back to clear, indicating it was online again. He could return to his boat that he rented to impress his new “girlfriend”. He turned the sky raspberry instead and went to work.

—–

We don’t need Axis-Windmill between us to know this is all about TILE, Guyd.”

“We sure do, Rebl,” the fellow cat-person answered, but not a fellow like in a boy. Two girls and two cats. But that was about all they had in common.

“Better get over to the boat, Guyd, see what SID is up to.”

“That isn’t SID.” Yellow and green eyed Guyd tried to disagree with red-blue eyed Rebl at every important turn, and this was certainly one of ’em. Guyd felt SID was a character that didn’t need to be introduced in this here photo-novel, 29 in a series… in a series…

“I know,” agreed Rebl, surprising Guyd and knocking him out of his usual anti-Rebl mode. “This is Bart.” Both made “O”s with their mouth, as if they’d surprised each other. It was the first time they synchronized since Tuesday. 2 years ago.

—-

“DONT”

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November 1, 2021 · 8:20 am

00290611

“I lost you in the tunnel!” director Percy Pierce complains as Axis-Windmill tries to defend his disappearance from a the scene.

“Well, ahem…”

“And I see you brought your two cat friends along to help your case. She turns to the red-blue eyed one on his right. Rebl *lawyer* is it now?”

“Yes ma’am. Axis did nothing wrong,” she begins in her purry way. “He followed the G-Spots through the tunnel to the missing letters.”

“Letters?” Percy Pierce spoke. “Don’t you mean: *letter*.”

A pause. “A moment with my client,” Rebl then requests, which Percy agrees to. Whispers; heads nodding and shaking; green and yellow eyed Guyd on the left side joins in the conversation. Percy can only make out scattered words (Paper, King, Soap, couple more). Finally: “enough”, she says. “We must get on. 9:30 shoot tomorrow. We must all be fresh.”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” says Rebl in turn. “Don’t you mean: *shot*?”

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September 29, 2021 · 7:25 am

train of thoughts (for now)

Guyd on one side, Rebl on the other, the director of the current film (“Sunklands 2021 Even Later”) talks with newly synthesized Axis Windmill Man about further developments in the plot. Don’t want another giant diamond ring in an open casket situation to end!

“Scratchy is the destination,” began Axis-Windmill in earnest after the niceties were over. Down to business now. Cass City business. “The show within the show that is Our Second Lyfe.”

Director Percy Pierce tried to put new lover Marion Star Harding out of her mind. She’d been thinking about him ever since they parted ways several days back — left him back at Starfish Lake or Sea or whatever the f- they’re calling the body of water these days — the new trend. She knew he, in turn, still thought about Heidi. Actually: another show within a show, since it is a mere window in his mind now. Job at hand…

“Snowball in Hell is… reality?”

“There are 2 sides to this,” explains Axis-Windmill, looking at green and yellow eyed Guyd to the left, then red-blue eyed Rebl to the right. He moves his right hand toward his left hand to meet in the middle and form praying hands.

“Are you saying we should *pray* for the correct plot direction?”

“Erm.”

“Ob-JEC-tion,” overruled Guyd from the left. “This show should be non-denominational.”

“Secular even, yes,” interjected nodding Rebl from the right.

Director Percy Pierce peered at them as well. “The feline-people will have their way. They created all this after all, like toys for their boys.”

“Did they?” Axis-Windmill obviously had his doubts.

“Yes,” doubled down Percy Pierce.

“That’s not what the manual states.”

“The manual remains a draft in places. I’m sorry — I meant to update before you were synthesized and acquired lines.”

“The manual states–”

“I *know* what the manual states.” They sat silent for a spell, all 4 of them. Percy’s thoughts involuntarily drifted back to Marion… and, within the window (she almost thought “windmill”), the director that preceded her.

(to be continued (?))

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September 4, 2021 · 8:22 am

name games

He told him of the missing letter in the 4 letter name, and that would take his power away and the rebels could triumph and be top dogs (once more). “Before the coming of the 4 color-letters,” he explained. “We tortured him — extensively. We got a name: Rael. Rael McCoy. We could crush him like a (golden) goose egg, we realized, but, in the end, we just let him go, let him return to the other 3 of his ilk. We realized we could never win. Because we saw ourselves in *him*. *We* hurt when we tortured him.” Guy stopped, wondering if he should say the next thing. The Chinese cook kept stirring, always patient. He’d heard so many similar stories now down through the years. All involving letters, all ending in pain.

“Let me guess,” he said calmly, steam obscuring his head from Guy in the moment. “You realized… you were missing one as well.”

So he knew that also. Because Guy had started out as Guyd, the glossy yellow and green eyed cat who was actually quite inept as a guide, despite the name. Rebl knows.

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February 24, 2020 · 10:39 am

bargain 03

For the child, Great Mother of Vampires asked a high price. “Let me have the lives of the remaining werewolves in town. Let my vampire brood feast on their flesh and blood.” Rebl looked over at Ben Wolf, who nodded, a look of surprising calm in his eyes. “We agree,” the cat-being lawyer answered back. Ben turned to the Great Mother and studied her ancient figure. He knew this was the only way to save his Irish Lass. What was her name again, darnit? Oh yes: Phyllis — the only way to save Phyllis. The pack would kill her otherwise. Unless it was the pack being killed. No other way.

“Then I turn over the child to the Cat-Witch here.” Great Mother eyed Cat-Witch loathingly again. So young! she thinks while imagining her own skin turning to dust. “We will not speak of the matter further.” She got up wobblingly, grabbed her cane, and hobbled out of the room down the hall to the secret elevator that would whisk her back to her parlor. Ben returned to his bar to prepare for the slaughter he knew was coming. He’d made his peace with The Lord. In fact, The Lord (me) told him to do all these things, to allow the vampires to take complete control now. “Fate”, I called down to him. “Bena must shift into a new era, with no Wolves or wolves allowed. That means *you*.” He had seen the light on this particular Corsica summit — Moork I think it was again. He descended back into town to tell Rebl to go through with the prearranged deal.

What of this child, though, this Katy Kidd? All we know now is that she will live to see another day in another section.

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February 24, 2020 · 9:50 am

bargain 02

“They’re ready for you Ms. Rebl.” Hidi then noticed that the cat-person lawyer was using her hands for a brush and her attache case as a pallet. “What, pray tell, are you painting, ms.?”

“Like any good lawyer, I’m painting a scene,” came the logical answer.

Case still in hand, she follows Hidi down the Hall of Fear to the Chamber of Utter Unspeakable Horrors.

Despite the name, there was actually a happy, feel-good vibe to it tonight. Things in this section of the photo-novel were being wrapped up in a relatively honest and decent way.

“Great Mother,” spoke Rebl solemnly while bowing at The Threshold (they called it). “I am honored.”

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February 21, 2020 · 8:10 am

woulds and wouldn’ts

If and when she came into town, she liked to sip coffee at The Green Lady next to the park and stare out at the bay. At night, Ben’s place was too full of vampires, and during the day there was still the threat of one or two of his old werewolf friends stopping by and reminiscing about the old days. She didn’t want to hear such talk. *Both* eras are equally bad in her mind, she’d always want to pitch to them, both Bennington and, now, Bena. This town is *cursed*!  she sometimes wanted to scream from the top of Bena Hill toward the buildings and roads spanning north to east before her, Mothers Place behind be damned. Here at the Green Lady, drinking her cinnamon spiced coffee, she could feel away from it all for a moment.  It was like the place was made for her, Green Lady matching green (clad) lady. It was here she could think about her *own* past, and figured out what went right but also, yes, what went wrong according to her master plan formulated at age 17, her first year in college taking astromystics classes at Teepot Tech. She would acquire a husband in due time but not be chained to his lifestyle. Well, she missed the boat there(!). Although she loves Ben dearly, no one can deny his faults, primarily the threat of turning into a wolf during any full moon despite the continued treatments down through the years. “I can change,” he declares every now and then. “I *will* change”. “I have found The Lord now,” he also might tack on to any such proclamation. But wanderlust sometimes gets a hold of him and he’s gone for days, part of his wolf heritage surfacing. “Where were you now?” she’d ask, and he’d just go on talking about how The Lord told him to do this, and go there and do that. Always the same excuse. Sometimes she’d like to just yank this Lord dude out of the clouds and give him an earful back.

They managed, but it wasn’t what you’d call a perfect relationship. On the sly, sometimes Phyllis Phox would inquire to her lawyer friend in town — Rebl of course — about how divorcing a werewolf might fare. “Poorly,” she would emphasize. The pack always takes care of itself. Ben, of course, wouldn’t lift  a finger — *probably* — but the others…

If only ditzy classmate Marsha wouldn’t have introduced me to him at that Benjamin Harrison Ball held at Grover Cleveland Hall down Former Presidents Lane. If only one or the other would have chosen a different college.

(to be continued?)

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February 16, 2020 · 8:24 am

Corsica(na)

Looks like Pitch Darkly is all ready to move in to his newly relocated house in Bena. Just hasn’t done it yet.

I’m picking up on: Barry. Barry is missing?

Better start in the graveyard. If I can just get over this — chasm.

Easy peasy! Now… who will I turn into tonight originally? Barry?

Ah, let’s just go with Pitch. He begins poking around while the transformation continues from Baker…

—–

*This* is what I’m missing. A coffin! Vampires must have coffins to hide out for the night. And something about native soil. He should study all this more, him being a vampire and all. How does he exist and breath and live? What does he eat and drink? What kind of crowd does he mingle with? Other vampires? Not likely — at this stage. Too naive; would be called out (!).

So much more to learn about vampiring. Is that even a word (for instance)?

It’s not a bad fit. If I only had something to read late at night, to kill the time or just help me get to sleep. Wait — I don’t *need* sleep. Not at night. It’s during the day — yes, I remember. I’m suppose to hunt at night. For food, for blood. This is a daytime hangout. I’ll have to switch all my hours around to get by in this place(!). This Bena. Still — it’s night now. I can still go over to the public library and see what books they have. Okay, if this town is full of vampires, would businesses be open at night instead of the day? Would the public library be open? Maybe, even if not, I could just pass through the door, being a vampire and all.

—-

He smartly decides to ring up Bena lawyer wannabe Rebl to ask how to proceed with the assimilation into the community. Good idea. The first thing she recommended upon hearing Pitch’s explorations so far was: *don’t* use other vampires’ coffins. Get your own!

So he went online to the SL Marketplace and picked up a cheap used one from some dude named Barry.

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February 12, 2020 · 8:36 am

Northeast Castle

Kate McCoy always left the table to (softly) play the piano when there was after-dinner talk of war.

“Heterocera is *not* dead,” spoke Summerhill Nova to his right. “We can carry on. The Sister sim will remain strong — I’ll make sure of it my liege.”

“Good, good,” the person at the head of the table spoke. “I won’t worry any longer about that direction. I trust you with the matter.”

“Thank you.”

He turned to his left. “And you, Walter.”

“Um hmm?” The tree being’s voice was hollow and husky.

“What say your people about the matter? About the changes in VHC City?”

“As long as Bob Dylan’s okay with it we’re okay with it.”

“Alright, then”. Jack looked straight ahead.

But the CB Dylan Dresser containing the other Snow at the table didn’t immediately respond. Then they realized the Manster within had gone to the wrong dimension — again.

(to be continued?)

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February 10, 2020 · 8:26 am

she must not die in vain

“The Head and the Heart must work together,” Tronesisia concluded, unclasping her hand from Rebl’s. “Heterocera is dead. Vainom Kug is dead.”

“Who?” Rebl responded, then realized who it must be. Manager of the Hotel Chelsea. It’s her Oracle name. As creator/maker Mykal Skall becomes Sikul Himakt in same.

“But — everything is so up in the air over here,” she protests, looking around. “This — *house* for one thing. Lamb outside.” She glances toward the open door with this, just beyond the now *White* Witch. How??

“But the Splinterwood castle (at the top) just next door remains firm in the ground,” divinator Tronesisia reassures. “Peaks, my love. Climaxes even, like the one in End of Time. You know, the meditating Freddy. You must return to that — stuff.” Tronesisia saw it clearly now. Corsica is the place. The Black Witch turned White overnight; Yin becomes Yang and true island is revealed with its Capitol Hill, its Capitol City.  The threat comes from Gaeta V. From the east; through the strait.

But in what form?

While busy raising the dead there, she missed a crucial piece about Danshire.

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