—–
“How about gray?” I ask him a bit later about his clothes back then. “Neutral would have been good too.”
He scoffed at first but then had a rethink. *Lack* of colors might have solved everything, he realized. The war with its 12, 13, 14 combat deaths and its 6 or 7 civilian deaths could have been avoided!
—–
Red to end.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0504, Newer Island, Oz
“I’m actually from Virginia Beach directly across Ross Bay from Hazel, but my parents moved here around ’66 or ’67. It was only a 6 or 7 mile trip for that 6 or 7 year old boy I was back then, but, boy, what a difference. You had to choose a side during the so called Ross Bay Tuna Wars. Which fleet’s color you wore could indicate your preference, green or blue. So that got me wearing blue-green or green-blue all the time, just in case. The area is so small you never knew who was going to show up at your front door, friend or foe. You could only tell them apart by their own colors they were wearing. And if they showed up in blue-green — or green-blue, heh — you knew they were as confused as you about what was going on and you were safe with them.”
He took his cap off, turned the front toward him as if reassuring himself the words were still upon it, then back toward me. “Eventually I felt comfortable enough to put Virginia Beach back on instead of just having it blank. I wanted to show people my roots again, and that the split which rocked all of central south east western New Island for about a 6 to 7 year period was over. Because of the fierce competition, tuna’s about gone in the bay anyway — guess that’s what ended the thing actually. They fish for that stuff further out into the ocean now. The wound is not entirely healed these days but getting there. Ross Bay with its Virginia Beach, Rosslea, Bayside, and Hazel are all united again, or about as well as they were in the before-war times. There’s still squabbles, there’s still scuffles. But nothing like when the tuna was in the bay.” He placed the cap back on his head, satisfied with what he’d said about the subject so far and waiting for me to respond. He stared directly into my eyes.
“So you were about 12, or 13… or 14 when it ended,” I say, trying to make sense of all the 6’s and 7’s involved.
“Yeah, I guess that’s about right,” he said, eyes glazed over again, obviously thinking back. “12, 13… 14. Let’s go with 13. Pretty sure I was 13 when the armistice was sign, as the locals call it. Only 12 to 14 of the warring fisherman died and only 6 or 7 what we’ll call civilians killed, collateral damage as they put it. Pretty reasonable totals for all the bad blood going around. You wouldn’t believe all the shouting! I remember shouting… all the time!”
Keep it down, I think, but also keep this to myself. It was a cathartic moment for the old man of maybe 66 or 67 now. And, anyway, I was learning a lot about New Island history. Tuna Wars. What petty people! Could not they share? So I *did* ask him that.
“Well, to answer that, let me ask you what color you think my cap is, green or blue?”
I was starting to see his point?
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0416, Jerrymap, Michigan, Newer Island
“I’ve changed the title again, Shelley. Not ‘Woman in Red’ now, not ‘Woman in Red Rain.’ ‘Woman in Red Rain*bow*.’ You know what I mean.”
—–
“I can be whoever you want.” He stared at me for a minute — final green following up middle red and original blue — then took a pad from below him somewhere, scribbled something…
… showed it to me. “You can be yourself,” he’d written down, a smiley face tacked on at the end. Well… he asked for it!
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0411, Capital Cy, Newer Island
https://www.newisland.net/2016/02/65-michelle.html
“So when Michell arrives in Hazel, that just means Alan woke up in Michigan City, Michelle jiggling his shoulder, for example. Michelle didn’t come to New Island. This is more realistic and I think more correct. We can continue in this direction. What did Alan do after he woke up? Did he even remember much about the New Island dream just completed? Perhaps it was a rainy day, just like the day Michelle arrived in Hazel. Or maybe it was sunny in contrast. And what of Mid-Hazel, the witch from the old New Island. Is she the same as Roselin?”
“Yes. I think so, yes,” spoke Leeman, still working on his “Woman in Red” painting. But he’d changed the title to “Woman in Red Rain”. Was this Michelle? TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0313, Illinois, Indiana, New Island, Newer Island
“The blast verified my theory of the three-dimensional property of Hum energy. If the blast was *two*-dimensional, it would have killed some people still, true, but just in the immediate area — say, ninety people — and probably left a narrow but incredibly deep hole, perhaps only a foot or so in diameter.”
“*Ninety* people?” I responded.
“*Foot* in diameter?” Louise said in turn.
“Yes, *just* that. Instead, well, we have this. Our entire Island blown away, leaving a crater in the ocean. Soon it will be as if we never existed.” And perhaps we didn’t, thinks Roselin to herself, not seeing any sign of it on the globe below them.
“All along, I thought the Hum was just this feel-good sound everyone loves to hear.”
“I wish with all my heart that’s all it was. The Hum always had a dark side, Gordy.” Silence for a long time. Each were contemplating their own deaths and the meaning of their lives just exited. Finally:
“You mentioned a Plan B,” Louise said, trying to recover any spark of hope in the darkness of space.
“Yes.”
—–
I kept running and running along the edge of the tide on the day after I met him, thinking of “The Hmm”, how I would organize it differently from his own book about New Island. Go back to his original blog story set mainly in Hazel, bring in MICHelle from MICHigan City, true, but have them discover a new portal overlapping fantastical and real to extend its untimely end. Right here in Hazel. Right over there in Michigan City. Wormhole. Yes, I have big plans. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0312, Newer Island
We began our walk to Samantha’s Wild North in early December. It was almost summer, and the days were getting longer and hotter.
The night before we left, Louise had spread out a map on Jamie’s bed. I listened in as they chatted excitedly about our route while we all loaded our backpacks.
The trip to see Roselin is feeling more and more strange.
Let’s back up, see the bigger picture. Shelley walks on the road to Hazel intent on meeting The Man while avoiding a witch. Soo… take a left just ahead up that driveway instead of keeping straight. I *hate* witches, she thinks. That opinion is going to be hard to change. But maybe The Man can help. Probably will.
—–
“Come in come in!” he said enthusiastically while swinging the door wide. “Glad you made it back. Just working on a painting about you, coinkydinkily enough. I call it… ‘Woman in Red’.” They enter the house where he reveals the work almost 96.725% done. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0308, Newer Island
“Soo, decision time, reunited family of mine. Which New Island is New…
“… and which is Old?” But in staring at the screen before Wheeler, Shelley and Eddy, the answer becomes obvious to presenter Newt; right in front of his face. Daughter Shelley’s black and white dream island, the one she wrote the novel “Hmm” about to promote, is the old one. And the colorful Our Second Lyfe version, virtual but also more real in that way, is New. And they’re linked through Barnaby (Point), an artist colony and perhaps the place Shelley actually settles down in after a stint at Hazel and which could turn into Shelley’s true home… *in each,* her own place apart from Leeman or Leemon the creator of it all. A place that can be *her* creation too. Co-creator she can become. Together moving forward, one energizing the other. Like a game of tennis. Back to you!
END OF “SUNKLANDS 2025 MIDDLE”!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0616, Frank's Moving Castle, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, New Island, Newer Island, NVFS
She ran on the beach the following morning and had much to ponder about. Halfway through her visit with Leeman or Leemon she excused herself and went into his small 1 toilet, 1 sink, no tub or shower bathroom in the hallway and inserted her umbrella contact lenses so that she could record what was being said. She figured he wouldn’t mind since he was going to write a book about New Island history anyway. She’d just not share her gathered information to anyone beforehand.
She knew she had to select a place to buy some property, build a home, become part of a tribe, a community. Since she’s also determined she was going to stay here on this New Island, bringing Eddy over too at some point in the process. Hazel seemed like the logical choice to settle down in. Right nearby Leeman/Leemon’s home where she can visit for more talks — he reinforced during her visit to come back any time. So she stayed in the Hazel Hotel last night just to check out more of the vibe. She detected absolutely no signs of wickedness in the air through various conversations and just poking her nose around in general, no spell books, potions, or sigils anywhere to be found, etc. And that night while trying to go to sleep despite all the new (island) thoughts buzzing around her skull, she had an illumination: *she* was going to write a book too. Fictional not factual. She already had a title. “The Hmm.” Stepping on his toes? She hoped not.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0047, 0116, New Island, Newer Island
Going to see the New Island maker and hoping it’s not Mid Hazel again, SHIVERS. Despite the location names involved here (Hazel, Hazelhurst (Ruins)). I’m taking him up on his invitation cited above from “The New Island Relocation Guide,” found online for free!
Just over there in that house to the left, he said about this picture from the guide which I’ve somehow managed to get inside of, ha. He also indicated that the collection of structures to the right where the railroad leads is the village of Hazel. Definitely avoiding that; no use in taking any chances at this late stage (!).
—–
I notice the geraniums, I notice the succulents. This is definitely the right place. NERVOUS still.
Knock knock knock.
An older gentleman in a Hawaiian aloha shirt with paint stained hands soon opens the door. Relief, PHEW!
“Can I help you, Miss?”
Shelley wakes up before they can talk further. An explanation of what’s actually going on from the creator will have to wait until another night, another dream. Or maybe a series of dreams — that would be cool.
“Till then,” she can hear him say as he retreats back inside. A painting, she also picked up on. He’s working on a painting of….. this she couldn’t resolve.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0047, 0103, New Island, Newer Island
King Lewis Johnson the Third’s canal boat arrived at quarter past 2 in the morning’s evening’s night day. Time was wonky in this part of old or original WES, merely the precursor, as it turned out, of the considerably larger New WES constructed further up the western Jeogeot coastline, or what was soon shortened to NWES, along with the overarching New WES Island — NWES Island now, with further distance put between it and the Omega continent’s New Island as well. The Moth Man would be pleased. He’s written a novel about *his* New Island and doesn’t want another place of that name to come between him and fame. I don’t either (!). His New Island should be unique. A no. 10 type of paradise, hidden until now. Bravo!
http://oceansanddreams.com/blog/2020/9/22/update-on-the-hum
Back to King Lewis Johnson the Third’s visit to Mad Anthony’s Nightfire settlement based on the Isle of Karma roleplaying sim. “We call those type of vehicles channel boats on Mars where I’m from. You’ll need a crowbar (to understand).” Mad Anthony, new lover of Linda Halsey, was clearly insane to think he was from Mars. Gary his manservant concubine beside him gently reminded the old, partially senile man that his home planet was Venus. He was not all right tonight. Marty’s Illuminati spell to soften his brains to tin or lead was working perfectly, another type of 10.
—–
“It is time for me to go back home to my neighboring sim, Anthony. I’ll pick up the canal, um, *channel* boat later. I wish you well on your brain issue.”
“Good night King Lewis Johnson the Third.” He looked at the sim boundary sign from his side. “You are indeed The Mann!”
“Thank you.”
Poor pitiful thing, he thinks while walking away.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0310, Jeogeot, New Island, Newer Island, West End
Sunklands 