Tag Archives: SEPISEXTON^^~~~~~~

six and seven

She woke up with her mission. Go through the SOS flea market toward the plane. Find the hole in the fence and turn left. Therein lies the answer to everything, or at least 42. What’s within will not be what it seems.

—–

The plane, check. But not the flea market before her. The cat on a nearby plank of wood meowed an answer but it was not 42. Something about dinner time being only 2 hours or so away now. Useless for her, although encouraging for the cat. She moves right, since left is…

… hold on.

In the secret basement lair of the large house to her left, biggest in town:

Only 2 hours till dinner time, thinks Greg Ogden with exactly the right number of G’s in his name. Better change.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0613, Paper Soap

scenes from a hat

He woke up in a fetal position on top of yet another fox. She spoke without turning from the even redder couch, wearing an even redder dress.

“How dare you think you can come to the White Palace in the skies and not alert *me*.”

He was groggy. He couldn’t make out exactly what was said. He raised up off of the plush fox, so soft. Like a blanket. He wanted to sleep forever, he realized. But… he must remain alert. Danger! He recalls: danger.

“You can leave Sepisexton,” she spoke over to the robot guard more in the background. “I want to talk to the *boy* alone.”

——

“It was always destiny that I come to this Misty MO and find love, Hucka.”

“Hucka?” He wakes.

“Charlene.”

Groggily; just waking up as well: “Yes?”

—–

“Okay you must tell me what you did with Jeffrey Phillips, shirt-less boy. *Now*.”

The green door opened. A presence was there.

—–

Trying to ignore rats, Dr. Mouse stands before the green door. The green phone on the front desk rings. It’s Claude.

—–

Geez I think my ears are ruptured.

There. It’s fixed.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0602, MISTY MO^^, Paper Soap, Teepot^^, White Palace

Asylum

Guy Benjamin carefully checks the mailbox for explosives before continuing to move in.

He plans to stay here for a while, despite the dangers. Because he’s in hiding again.

Yes this will do I suppose, he thinks. But the animations in the house *suck*.

I guess that’s the point, though. No energy to detect up here in the skies. Blanket silence.

Oh no. Another picture of Foxtrot above the head of the bed. But this one’s crooked. I’ll just get up here and straight– OH NO!!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0601, Paper Soap, White Palace

00250701

The tiles behind the stove were falling off. And she’d left the burner on again.

“Oh mom,” he complains. “What are we going to do with you?” He turns the knob to the off position and starts clearing the air.

—–

“We have to fix TILE,” Man About Time urges, making his pitch. “Carrcassonnee has become Sepisexton, the 7 and the 6 at once, and is roaming the metaverse unchecked, freeing demons right and left that she can use at her disposal. We’ve already clocked 4 with the same name of Jenny.”

“Jenny is *not* a demon,” countered Mabel, present for the debate. “She’s just… very orange.”

“Aldebaronian,” clarified likewise alien Roger Pine Ridge, who also made a window in his busy schedule for this important discussion.

“No, like I said, there are *4*.” Man About Time remained fixed about the unfixed nature of the town’s chief religion, the one it is known for through the temple and some other stuff.

“Boat,” Baker Bloch piped in. “I recall a boat. Didn’t that crash over in Wallytown, though?”

“*Wallytown*,” stepped in Wheeler, “is something we’re *not* suppose to talk about. Not after the shower.”

“Counter that,” uttered Carrcassonnee propped up in a corner, unable to walk still or talk very much. She was basically limited to things that belong in a kitchen. “Spachula,” she offered further. “Scrape up eggs off counter. Will stick if not scraped. Spachula.”

The rest tried to figure out what that translated to in the latest Carrcassonnee limited language issuances. Probably something to do with eyes again. Or “I”s. Despite the split, MAT had gotten her this far, which was something, they agreed.

“Danny. What say you?” Danny was, once more, Man About Time’s right hand man, just like in the past. Pickleland in the sideways world, his trusty plunger turned back in time. Tiger.

“Radar.” Another simplistic issuance but followed up by 176 more sentences that I won’t write out but explained very well what the lack of radar meant to the Schuman without the N. Because there was Sector R to deal with now. “… mustard,” came the end of his last sentence of the 176, describing the color of the entity most responsible for the confusion. Earlier words in this sentence and the 175 preceding it elucidated a robot from a sideways world, probably Oz, who wormed their way into susceptible people’s lives disguised as a “best friend”, as he had called it. This was the case with Barry.

“Very good, thank you Danny. I will close then, for now, by saying that every state of the US is also a state of mind. Think about that.” MAT stares them down from his position in front, on top. For the moment and, hopefully, for the future.

Of the 10 people in the meeting, only 2 thought about bordering states with this, and that is only because they shared some of the same static, been out in the same snowstorm and not made it back in time for supper and a movie that one instance. And suffered the consequences.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0701, Hana Lei^^, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, The Waste^^

a little lower down…

“I’m almost finished, despite this stupid balloon getting in the way.”

“Can I see?” she uttered with licorice lips.

He didn’t answer directly; kept working. “I… couldn’t get the hair quite right.”

Sepisexton thought: she doesn’t have any hair. But kept her mouth shut. She’d already been scolded several times for changing her position. There were six in the chair, and she got rigid if she used any one too long. Why were there 6 if she couldn’t move about a little? Plus this was a cubist work. Wasn’t he suppose to look all the way around her? I am Carrcassonnee reborn, she thought here. The “I”. The 7th has every right for the 6 to do her bidding. They were the surfaces of her being, as she sat here being painted. She dared to switch again.

“Awww, Carrcassonnee,” he complained.

Ah ha! she thought. He really and truly knows who I am now (!).

—–

He showed her the finished project. So much blurring, she noted, but she supposed that was her own fault for being so darn multidimensional.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0514, Pickleland

different same

“Daddy he’s gone,” emitted Katy McCoy from in front of the static filled TV.

“I know, honey. He was a bad man.”

“Baaad,” she echoed from her position, hands still on the screen, hoping for a change. She *saw* him. He was here (!).

Keith B. tried to rouse himself more, make sense of what his adopted child was saying. They had lived here in this attic of the house on the hill, jeez, going on maybe 15 years now. All they had for entertainment was this TV. And the constant Halloween going on around them 24/7. Blood and guts gets old, though. She *saw* him. A clear space in the snow. The 7 and the 6 had merged, at least for a brief moment in space-time. The Oracle tells him so.

“Dear,” his wife of over 16 years says to his side. “We’ve broken the tie — that must be it. Jenny and I… were tied. Last I spoke to that bastard of a man Craighead Phillips we were both sitting in front of him, complaining about his running off and driving his car hither and thither across that blasted continent of his.”

“*My* continent too,” Keith B. defended his homeland of Maebaleia/Satori. He was pretty much fully awake with this. He sat up, trying to figure out how to unglue Katy from the boob tube. Might as well be the Great Mother to her, he thought. Nourishment, but not in a good way. A baaad way, as she just said about the thing within.

“But there was just *one* of us in front of him,” she continued with her important point, “a kind of quantum state I suppose. I remember… speaking… but not in my voice. Someone elses, at least in part. Half and half, yes.” She nods, thinking she’s finally got it. “Yes, Jenny and I were tied and were one.”

“Together?”

“As one.”

“Daddy. There he is! (*suck*) Heeelpp!”

“Aw, jeez, not *again*. Your turn to go inside, dear.” They had agreed to switch off. If only they could do the same with the TV.

Jenny appeared in a beam of light. Tied still?

Sepisexton was suddenly free.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0511, Pickleland

Hideaway 01

“So since Ally’s here now you can get off a little early, right?” on and off girlfriend Sep says to off and on boyfriend Seb. Sebby Cromac, who really lightened up the place when he was hired several months back. He also has a Rosehaven connection which procured him the job in the first place. More on that soon.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “Ms. Orange is still learning the drinks.” He lowers his voice now; Ally probably couldn’t hear them anyway since she’s shaking the tumbler so hard in mixing that martini for a customer soon to show up. Let’s say he or she’s in the bathroom right this moment. “She doesn’t know as much as I’d hoped with all that experience on her resume,” he continues after leaning in. “Look how long she’s been mixing that drink; and it’s a *martini*,” and with this he points behind his hand toward cheese colored Ally, who doesn’t look atall like what’s in the picture above to either Sep or Seb. In fact, he or she looks different to anyone involved. Oh, here comes the customer. Ally finally stops shaking, pours the drink.

—–

“What do you think?” she asks The Mann, who decides to call himself James for this scene. Fresh from humpback whale watching on the eastern shore of Pickle 02, he explained earlier while placing his order with the pretty, petite blonde. “Interesting,” he presently offers as graciously as possible after sipping, trying not to wince. He decides not to sip again for a while. He is a connoisseur of the liquors and knows an improperly made drink when he drinks it. Maybe he should have given more specifics on its concoction. He makes a mental note to do that at the next bar at the next island in his sea of travels.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0413, Bellisaria^^

boy or girl

The 4th and probably last Squishy Pickle on the Pickles, 01 and 02, one surrounded by water in a shallow bay this time.  This would be the second found on Pickle 02, the green one as opposed to the sand colored one we’ve seen Sandman and Ant-man and a couple of others at.

Someone was waiting for me out front. All Orange. But never mind that right this moment…

Returning to the merged map seen several posts back, we can now mark the 4 Squishy Pickles by green (Pickle 02) and yellow (Pickle 01) pins. A rough square emerges, perhaps close enough to indicate a master plan. I’ll just number them in the order discovered, starting with the one next to what’s called the Hideaway or Hideout, which links the whole concept, strangely enough, to Rosehaven. This is most likely how the witch Mid-Hazel moved from one to the other, and, now, All Orange too.

So… returning to that…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0412, Bellisaria^^, Black Ice, NWES Island^

00230315

Carrcassonnee looked over at the spot she had just been. Sepisexton she was now, both the 7 and the 6. It was time to move on from the great olive being and the great olive body. It just wasn’t working. Not right now anyway. Syd was a way out. And TILE.

She walks away from the new spot into the future.

—–

“Hey Roosevelt. Remember when we use to be black and yellow clowns over in NWES City? Funny times. That’s where you started your stand up comedy isn’t it.”

“No.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0315, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, NWES Island^

Sepisexton

“DONT.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0312, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, NWES Island^