Tag Archives: Roger Pine Ridge/Biker Mann^*@

about town 02

“And that’s about it, sir,” he spoke mildly, as usual, to the new town ruler. “Tour: complete.”

Jeffrey Philips stares at the entrance to the new collage series, called simply Picturetown and breaking the pattern of former series, all of which are named for towns and villages in and around Jasper County, Illinois — a map of which they stand upon here, in fact. Like Falmouth housed in the Fal Mouth Moon gallery that Danny cleans up, for example. He ponders whether to go through the door representing the beginning of the series. Instead he focuses on the surface aspects; he’s learning to ride or jump situations in order to remain objective, like a good ruler should.

“These… Rosehaven people… from this Picturetown. Are they aware we are using their store front here?”

Man About Time looked at Jeffrey Philips, trying to gauge what direction he was heading. “Does it matter?” he decides to say, and let it rest on that.

“I don’t know, I’m just wondering…”

“They will not care… they are artists as well.”

“Maybe we should talk to them.”

“Why, sir, don’t we enter the (new) exhibit and see what they would see if they knew about it.” His voice was gaining confidence. He realized Jeffrey Philips helped temper his mildness with his rugged individuality. This is a man fixed in time, unlike himself. He lets time move all around him rather than inside. MAT wondered who the latest girl is… he’d heard rumors of a woman alternately named Zado and Bad Kitten. He’s been meaning to look that up on the interwebs… maybe when he returns to his lower penthouse apartment at Kidd Tower. And he needs to finish decorating (!). So lazy; but I’ve had to help Jeffrey Philips so much lately. He knows so little about what we do here. And then there’s Carrcassonnee. He resists looking over at the top of the Temple of TILE from this vantage point; needs to keep focused on Jeffrey. This was a pivot point of some sort. Will he go inside? Is he afraid of losing… perspective?

“Not today, Man About Time.”

“MAT, please,” Man About Time insists about his name. Confidence. He is ever so slightly — baby steps — moving away from Time into something else. Town, perhaps. He then has the urge to look left at Roger Pine Ridge’s new house which isn’t there. A sudden backslide, pheh.

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about town 01

“Danny,” MAT invited. “This is the new boss: Jeffrey Phillips. I don’t know if you’ve met…”

“We did,” spoke Danny, freshly emerged from his trailer after the knocking at the door. Mop and plunger in hand, he was about ready to go clean the bathrooms on the floor below anyway. He was fully dressed. For a change.

Jeffrey Phillips couldn’t remember meeting Danny before but let it, once more, pass. He began to worry about his memory. And the incident at the library that didn’t take place. His head spun round and round. He woke up. MAT was at the door, ready to take him to another door: that of Danny’s trailer attached to the back side of Fal Mouth Moon, the largest gallery in town and perhaps the largest building, if that wasn’t the Blue Feather, Jeffrey’s new home. Will he stay alone there? He snickers internally at the thought. Of course he won’t be alone. He wasn’t alone before and he certainly won’t now, what with his new position of power. He’ll think about that later: back to the issue at hand. He shakes Danny’s hand but Danny doesn’t shake as hard back. Danny has reservations about the new leader. He thought it should be Man About Time himself. He decides to ask. Best to have it out in the open.

Both look at him when he states his preference. “I’ve known MAT for quite some time now,” he continues. “He’s always been fair to me; got me this great gig at the Fal Mouth Moon, and then got me returned real quick when I goofed up over…” Danny stopped. He didn’t want to tell Jeffrey about the art theft right now. He looked at MAT for clues how to proceed. MAT arched his eyebrows back, indicating he was going too far. The new ruler is *right here*, he could hear him think. *Behave* yourself.

So he didn’t mention that MAT had more blog posts to his credit than Jeffrey Phillips, he didn’t mention the womanizing (he’d seen Jeffrey Phillips twice, once with Charlene the Punk and the other with Lois who replaced Charlene, who then replaced Lois… and on it goes… who is he with now?).

“Next up is Roger Pine Ridge,” spoke MAT after they had moved past Danny. But MAT forgot that they didn’t have enough prims presently to rezz Roger’s house and allow him to become a citizen of the reborn town again. He was thinking about another time. *This* would be his problem if he were leader, and Baker Bloch and the rest knew it. Danny was just too naive to see.

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the source and the lake

I can see the Rainbow Sphere but I can’t get to it. Banned. Roger Pine Ridge still could, though. And therein lies the problem.

We must return to Iris.

“Some year we’re having, eh Spore?”

“Iiiim LOVING it!”

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loss 01

Rocking Roger Pine Ridge was blunt. “Why would I want to leave, Baker Bloch? I have everything here. And now there’s (an Iris) mystery hole, as you guys put it. ”

“*You’re* one of us guys, too,” non-rocking Baker emphasized from the couch more away from the view.

“Maybe.”

“And, besides, I didn’t think you liked it here in this swamp village I think you termed it at one time.”

“Circumstances change. Look… you can see the Moth Temple just beyond that palm tree with a long draw. Can you see it?” He points forward.

Baker Bloch didn’t want distractions tonight. “Yeah, I see it,” he replies without attempting to see, trusting Roger Pine Ridge’s claim. It was a looonnng draw at almost 2 sims, he estimates, but probably reachable. He took RPR’s word for it.

“Oh,” began Roger Pine Ridge after a lingering gander at the beloved temple which he thought of as the center of His Second Lyfe as a whole, if it wasn’t now the *hole*. “The girls make a ruckus downstairs on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and sometimes Sundays. Alternate Sundays I believe. But it’s only for a couple of hours in the afternoon and they clean up nicely.”

“You’re talking about Flip and Magika Bean,” Baker Bloch attempted to clarify. “The wrestling duo.”

“Yeah, who are actually Wheeler Wilson and Baker Blinker, I know. But they like their new names. And, like I said, they clean up…”

“Well,” Baker finished this time. “Better go. You think about what I said. Cassandra City might offer more possibilities than here. But then he dared to look out and extend his draw distance and suddenly doubted it. Yeah, the hole sealed the deal. Roger Pine Ridge, along with neighbor Grassy and Wheeler up more toward the temple itself might be here for good. He’d have to face that fact. Face the music of that fact. “Time,” or “Beach”. Depending on the way you flip it.

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smoking buddies

“What do you think, Charlie?” strumming Roger Pine Ridge asked about his new song. “It’s a little more optimistic than my usual fare,” he explains further. “Call it ‘(Life is a) Beach’. Grass and Flip requested it — something more upbeat and lighter to work on, they told me. So I’m just writing about where I am. Right now in my life. Here. Just gotta think of some rhymes to go along with the the music.”

“Fine, fine,” states Charlie, only half listening, with the other half thinking about Margret, aka Poetry. Where was she tonight? Still stuck back in time, in the past. 1950’s still? Maybe even back — dare I think of it — to 1921? Where does that leave *me*? With Aloha? What the hell is Aloha?

Stopping the motion of his pick, Roger picked up on his friend’s concerns. “Don’t worry about Poetry, Charlie Banana. Where there’s a wall there’s a bridge. He starts the song over again, synchronistically thinking of another chord progression he could add to complete the bridge and the music as a whole.

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golden yellow

I’m not going back to the MISTY MO lodge, Roger Pine Ridge realized while standing on the bridge looking east toward it. I’m going to go on the long walk and play with more forms. Like this little, yellow clad girl, perhaps Jennifer M. Friend herself when she was a child. Probably not, but…

Or how about Wanda the Minoan, fitting in with the yellow theme again? But maybe I’ve got enough wee ones already — Piper and Dollie.

Interesting. I forgot I had both a Cyberdoll and a Paperdoll form that I mashed together to create Cyberpaperdoll, one of my better creations, along with similarly mashed together Roger Pine Ridge.

A good couple they are. Too bad it didn’t work out. Thanks to Bandit Boy, hehe…

But I suppose I should just keep Allen Yellow as my primary avatar for now: Allen Y. He’s got a nifty backpack for storing tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches and lemon tea for the trip, along with extra shoes and a change of clothes. He’s got a helmet for when the atmosphere gets too hard to breathe again, along with an additional set of eyes for long distance viewing.

—–

“Does he not get the irony?” observing Baker Bloch spoke back in Collagesity. “Golden sphere… frog eyes… and that’s why Piper the *frog* was sent to MISTY MO in the first place, along with Tropp.”

“Golden sphere, yes,” echoed Wheeler, thinking back.

—–

Goodbye lodge. Goodbye mystic nut Norm or Bob. So long old and withered Johnny Appleseed tree. See ya Black Lake on the northeast corner, the one Jennifer saw Demo written all over. Under. Too much more to see.

He sets out for parts already partially known but with big hunks yet to be explored. 1/2 and 1/2.

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Blackspots


Pondering murders.

—–

They talked far into the night. No mention of Bauer again, as stated. About 10 Roger Pine Ridge showed up as well. He kept glancing over at his old flame Cyberpaperdoll (who arrived about 7:30) but saying nothing.

11:15. His last Chesterfield was now half smoked. Perhaps time to pull out one of his special cigarettes; start seeing things in the middle of the night again. Sea monsters this time, perhaps. The white stick light tells truths to be beholding to. Behold… beholding. Beh.

“Beh,” he uttered over to Cyberpaperdoll. “Beeeeeehhhhh.”

—–

“I’ll defend you Dollie.”

“What are we looking at?” she queried Randy Big Cat in her meek voice. So feminine and thin.

“Pirates of course! *Other* pirates.”

“Of course.” But it didn’t look like any pirate she’d beheld.

—–

She kept tripping the light fantastic. White stick light. Giant bunnies were good and cool. She wanted more. But Ruby’s Democratic Empire sim remained empty. It was only a stage, a set, good to go for Collagesity novel 10 but then discarded and emptied just after. *Had* to be a set. And now connected with beh. All sims starting with beh, especially their center (128/128). Try it for yourself. You’ll see.


Dollie in the dollhouse doghouse again, snooping around.

—–

She pretended this improptu gathering of cubes also in central Behemoth was a meeting of the selves again. “You,” she barked as much as possible with her unbarky voice. “Over there. The black, silent one. Time to *speak*.”

——

Eventually she fell asleep on its southern side after taking yet another form. Smoking.

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catchup

“It all seems to be focusing on Heterocera, Baker Bloch. Me in the swamp lands — I would *prefer * to live here in Collagesity, but it is what it is. Then Wheeler’s own explorations.”

“She’s found a gym.”

“Gem of a gym,” replies Roger Pine Ridge, puffing on a Chesterfield tonight. The rainbow brings confusion but white light heals. White stick light. “That might keep her busy for a while.”

“Then Grassy… what’s the report on him?”

“Good and decent fellow, obviously. We’ll (re)visit Iris soon.”

“The Moth Temple Village. Good. Which you live on the very outskirts of anyway.”

“He’s still looking for the reds and yellows. Probably to shoot or kill them.”

“Wheeler can help in that way,” Baker then says. “And his cousin?”

“He hasn’t spoken of Opp since my move. He goes on and on about the TILE river or creek or whatever it is. Jonesborough Compound: he says that’s where it all started. Cave of the Alphabet. The eternal search for AlmaNoz.”

“Good topic,” replies Baker. “Karoz: Did he find his ‘N’ yet?”

But Roger Pine Ridge didn’t know neither. Better bring in another.

—–

“Karoz… we’re just reviewing what’s going on in the novel so far. How’s Dennis? Is that where you still are? Lemme check.”

—–

“Why don’t you put up a meaningful picture on your media feed here. For the blog.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Dennis.” Pause. “Where I’m not.”

“Well maybe we should go there to meet instead.”

Karoz Blogger looked around. “Where’s Wheeler tonight? This isn’t an official Table meeting without Wheeler.”

“She found a gym,” Baker Bloch explained again to a second core avatar tonight.

“Guess Tropp or Opp is with her, then.”

“Guess so.”

“Well… good.” Karoz looks down at his hands, then back up. “It failed of course. The assimilation. Baker Blinker has gone back to Chilbo. I suppose I’ll have to follow.”

“Well… for one shining moment…”

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted the cyan being, half moss as we know now. The other half remains hidden in mist still. Baker then had an idea.

“How’s Misty doing?”

“Who?”

—–

“He didn’t know who Misty was, Hucka Doobie. I tried.”

“You think that’s his *mother*?”

—–

“Let’s review what we know, Hucka Doobie. We know that everything seems to be focusing on Heterocera, which is now equated with a big hand.”

“An *upside-down* hand,” Hucka Doobie clarified. “The Hand of Opp.”

“Right. There’s now a Heart Line to go along with the Head Line, which I didn’t know was a Head Line until I found the Heart.”

“Art’s on the Heart.”

“Right. Former neighbor. Like Veyot. On the edge. Just digging the Collagesity vibe.”

“It does have a good vibe,” articulated Hucka Doobie. “But now it only has the woods. Art will be the last neighbor you will have in Our Second Lyfe. Unless you count Ruby Heartbright.”

“I’m checking now, Hucka Doobie.” Pause of about 30 seconds while Baker Bloch remotely scans the borders of Collagesity. “Yes, I see she is the only landowner whose property borders Collagesity. But: no relation to the Rubi Woods to the west?”

“There has to be,” Hucka Doobie says without hesitation. “You know this person after all.”

Met her once. She’s owned land around the woods before. Just like me. I can’t remember specifics.”

Hucka Doobie thinks that Baker Bloch should write down information like this but doesn’t say it aloud. “And fair Ruby herself? Haven’t seen her around since I rode back into town on a horse with no name.”

“We’re talking about my character, also named Ruby,” Baker clarifies more for the reader. “She seems to have taken the lead female role from everyone else except for Wheeler. But of course now we know Ruby *is* Wheeler. Because of all the splits she’s effected.”

“Ruby Fantasie most recently. You should follow what’s she’s up to in Rosehaven. Shaking things up, I bet.”

“Three ‘Rubys’, then. The neighbor, the woods, the… can we call her queen? Is Wheeler still queen? Heck we better bring her in. Thanks for stopping by, Hucka.”

“Back to the Red Umbrella for me. I found a way into Stonethwaite.”

“You did?”

“But a topic for another night.”

“So long, then.”

—–

“Put up the Aotearoa picture on the interwebs, Baker Bloch. I can’t seem to work the darn thing again tonight.”

“I’ll make a quick post with the 2 pictures.” Pause of about 2 minutes while Baker sets up the post. He displays it…

“Top hit for an image search ‘N to Z’, Wheeler Wilson. Transparent images, that is.”

“Which you like to do now as I understand.”

“This is AlmaNoz related. Jeogeorock related. Whitehead Crossing. Spill what you know.”

“I’m not really the person (core avatar) for that. Spongeberg,” Wheeler declared. “Spongeberg’s the one. He lives there after all.”

“I forgot. In the teepee.” He removes his finger from his lip. “Well, we might have time to bring him in after this. Friday night after all. A little more time; a little less pressure to get up.”

“During the day, you have to figure out something else to do. I’m *enjoying* the day. But… this can’t keep up.” Wheeler looks at him directly. “Thank you, though, for allowing me time to find my gym. That was helpful. Tropp is thankful too. We are not evil.”

“I know that.”

“We are another aspect of Heterocera now, part of its continuing storylines. Three ‘Rubys’. Collagesity moves onward and upward within that triangle. Scarlet.”

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trapped

She was really planning to stay here long term, he pondered from his plywood cube. Brought all of her exercise equipment over here, her personal gym. Not to be confused with her personal Jim, hehe. But he must remain serious. He’ll ask her as politely as possible to remove it all tomorrow. Or sometime this week. Sometime this month at the very least. Because (as we’ve pointed out) he’s stuck. Stuck in Time. Stuck in Money. Stuck in Brain Damage really, given that he is 2 Rogers in one. Roger Pine Ridge both (as also pointed out before [but much further back]).

What to do with the basement space, though? The upper part: living quarters. But here he could make… a studio again? Make music once more. Just start beating on stuff.

And there’s good and kind neighbor Grassy to consider. His landlord in effect. No, not his landlord… let’s just have them visit each other for a spell…

—–

“Dum de *dum* de dum.”

—–

“The late breakfast was, er, *special*, Grassy Noll. Just like you.”

“Thank you.” Was there sarcasm involved with his speech patterns? the Mmmmmm thought, then waved it off. Of course not. This is Roger Pine Ridge. Destined to be his best neighbor ever. Much more so than the Petersons, who left in the middle of the night to live in Alcatraz. And the Archibalds left much to be desired as well. He was a bit actor and she studied acting a bit. Go figure.

“I hear you are a famous thespian in your small area of the universe,” offered Roger, trying to ignore the fullness of his stomach and the needlessness for it.

“I am!” Grassy automatically started listing off the productions he starred in. “‘Salad Bar Jack in the River of Tile’ — I’m sure you’ve heard of that.”

“No.”

“Then ‘Salad Bar Jack of All Trades’, ‘Salad Bar Jack be Nimble’…”

“I’m going to stop you there, Grassy. Grassy Noll. My most excellent neighbor.” He peers at his watch, not trying to hide it.

“Time,” Grassy spoke solemnly. “I understand.”

“And Money,” Roger quickly followed.

“Followed by…”

“We don’t speak of that.”

“Oh… right.”

Roger Pine Ridge suddenly wondered what the inside of his brain looked like, and if flowers could be successfully cultivated there given the right fertilizer.

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time returns

“Damn!”

Stuck again.

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