Tag Archives: Sally^^

Serenity

If she sits in her compression chair too much longer, she may never get up.

So tightly wound around. Like a Mummy.

Only Monsieur’s visits brings her out of herself. Where *is* he??

—–

“I’ve been waiting and waiting for you, Hebert Gold.”

The full name, he thinks. She *was* upset. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with the king. And then with the doll houses. We found Carrcassonnee inside. The one eyed entity that use to rule Collagesity. HF showed us.”

“But you were both Gold and Platinum inside Murdock’s Castle. Time was all mixed up. *Is* mixed up. You came too close to the truth.”

“Now I know. Fingerprince. I just had to find the second dollhouse to confirm it. And the second HF.”

“Are you going inside? Forever and ever and ever?”

“I’m not sure. What would you advise?”

She paused. “Maybe we should go to the Serenity Church. Perhaps the Reverend can help us.”

—–

“He’s *here*. Zoidboro is here.” Monsieur Gold was incredulous.

“Yes,” spoke Parasol below the tone of Zoidboro’s preaching. “It’s because of the Gold and Platinum mix-up. Zoidboro’s been here for years now. Yet he has just arrived. And then: he isn’t here yet. Some realities he was never born, never had a child by that strange mutant gal-guy Patrick Starr.”

“The drummer?”

“No, that’s Ingor.”

“Ingo?”

“No. *He’s* different.”

“My head hurts. I need to sit down.”

—–

So they sat down opposite Sally Spark O Naut — who had dutifully followed Zoidboro through the eyeball cave portal — and listened to the remainder of a beautiful sermon about the dangers of shark attacks. Afterwards, Herbert Gold’s head hurt considerably more.

In fact, I think he died there. Again.

Leave a comment

Filed under *Second Life, Rosehaven^^

Burnt Too

It was almost dark when she reached the service station in the opposite corner of the Burnt Oak sim from her. Now the *only * service station in the area. Look at these two, Sally Spark O Naut thought. People must be desperate for gas. Knowing (the other) Sally like I do, she’s dispensing it in ways to cause the most pain for everyone around. In turn: poor, desperate Sally.

She goes around the front of the building.

“Sally? It’s me. Sally. You here?”

Hmph. Cleaned out as well.

Only the meat remains.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under *Second Life, The Waste^^

Burnt

50 days, thought Sally the Spark O Naut (Sparky) at the old Tiler’s Church in North Yd. Time to finally give up on the Reverend and head home.

But upon reaching the plateau above the decrepit town, Sparky found her service station had disappeared in the meantime, along with perpetually wind blown Raphaelia and her orange cat. Only the wind left.

She’d have to ask the other Sally on the opposite side of the Death Bowl for information. Aka: Lying Widow.

It was the only logical thing to do.

Leave a comment

Filed under *Second Life, The Waste^^

missing

I’ve looked everywhere on God’s beige earth for them. But I’m not going down there to North Yd to check. Not after what I saw last year with Tessa. Gold to Platinum.

Better head back home in the narrow boat-plane. Maybe refuel first over at Sparky’s since it’s nearby.

—–

Ooops! Knocked over a couple of gas pumps again. Oh well. Nothing scars this old babe. Except that cursed dune of April Mae’s. Must be some kind of magic dune, and in the wrong way, hmph. Probably some voodoo connected to the aberant Omega continent itself. “Sparky!” Monsieur Gold calls through the station’s open door while honking his horn. “Sparky! It’s happened again!”

Now where is *she*?

“Zoidboro!” cries little Raphaelia Jenkinson from a nearby garage bay, flickering merrily in her red dress beside similarly wind-blow, yellow cat Ziggy Dustbowl. “Zoidboro!” she repeats.

In the basin immediately below…

… Sally the Spark O Naut (“Sparky”) has waited a long time for Reverend Zoidboro to start preaching. Two days, in fact, since this is Tuesday. But she’s decked up in her Sunday best and dearly hates to needlessly change clothes.

5 more minutes, she thinks. Maybe 5 hours.

Leave a comment

Filed under *Second Life, The Waste^^

dammed

Mornings here are the best, Doris. Funny how your name is Doris too. And almost the same last name as well. Drone instead of Drane, though. Thank God. Else it’d be spooky!”

“Spooky enough,” claims the red haired, anime style Doris sitting opposite her. “But call me Gwin. That was my given name over at the Ruby Democratic Empire set.”

“So glad you got disengaged from that Tin Tin. He sounds terrible. Eating with his mouth open and all. And that nose!”

“Awful indeed,” reinforced Doris Gwin. But now I’m here. With you. I decided I like women more than men. Reality goes where desire leads it.” They touched hands across the table, with no spitting involved this time.

—–

“Haven’t you guys finished that chess game yet?” clanks Sally the Sparkonaut after washing the breakfast pots and pans inside their cozy riverside cottage. “Why don’t you take a break and play checkers upstairs instead?” She winks at her niece Gwin with a bulbous blue eye. “If you know what I mean. Check her… checkhers. Get it?”

“Creepy, Aunt Sally. Why are you so… open and free about our burgeoning lesbian relationship? I mean, I thought you were a rampaging whore over at Wallytown before your mechanical transmutation.”

“Indeed I liked men in more ways than I can count. And I am a powerful caculating machine. But love is love to me. Be free and open with it. Last reincarnational existence I was a nun in 19th Century France and hated every minute of the experience. Lesbian relationships at the nunnery were common, and even encouraged if you were sly about it. The monks turned their back on us — they were having their own fun with their own fair sex. That’s how things went but it wasn’t open to the outside. To them we were married to God and God alone. But God works in mysterious ways, as they say. And in my opinion God loves men and women to have sex. Any type of sex: concave on concave, convex on convex, concave/convex… you name it. And domination… there’s a percentage of people that like it… be open to that too. But in the right way.”

“You are wise, Aunt Sally. The people that built the dam over there on the river we can see from our breakfast table also did a super job on your transmutation.”

“It was too rampant,” repeated Sally. “Something had to be done about desire for certain.” Her antennas sparked again. “I suppose.”

Leave a comment

Filed under *Second Life, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island

absorption

“I should be finished with journal 9 in 2 weeks or less, Robert Drake Johns. Then we will reassess the situation.”

“That’s great, Older Mabel,” spoke the tall, lime green robot seated beside her. His voice was nasal compared to most mechanoids of his type — Mabel designed him this way to appear slightly comical to her and help lighten the mood sometimes. Because the mood was dire in many instances. The Wastelands held nothing back.

“I’m wondering when The Monster will return,” started RDJ again. “Sally lives on the edge of the Deep Dunes but hasn’t seen or smelled anything in 2 weeks or more. The Axis powers may have won the war, but they haven’t been especially active conquerors… let us do what we please, when we please.”

“Oh they’re around.” She scribbles quickly once more. “Right now I’m seeing a narrow boat, mired deep in the high sands. Two children — no, a child and a man, actually an older man. Then another, observing man. No, sorry again, a woman but with many eyes, some which could be masculine. Actors and Observers again, Robert Drake Johns.”

“I miss my cousin,” said RDJ out of the blue. “I miss Cardboard. The character and not the substance, although that has disappeared too. All metal and rust now; little plastic as well.”

“And parchment,” added Mabel brightly. “Thank Gods for parchment.”

“And Ink!”

1 Comment

Filed under *Second Life, New Island, The Waste^^