Tag Archives: Tealy^*==

eye for an eye

Visit to the unusual “eye rock” and subsequent discussions. Lester Jackson, owner of the cornfield, wanted to name it *I* owa and town councilman Alex Bald countered with Hawk*eye*. They would fight it out later that day over a good ol’ game of Iowa chesskers, 1/2 chess and 1/2 checkers where black always moves first. Make that Hawkeye chesskers, because Alex won. Plans to move the Hawkeye Rock to his town’s square were in the works before they could say night night to each other. The next morning neighboring Taylor County and its superior moving company based in Siam was rung up. “Ringgold County here,” they started, then cut to the chase. “We need a crane.” “It’ll cost you,” came the not-so-neighborly reply, terms which later telescoped back into the equally unusual 14 year old girl and her twins.

—–

And that’s how Rose ended up in Our Second Lyfe on the Omega continent in the Tesseract House with the tailors, who are actually Taylors.

“Andy! Bee!” she joked through the door she couldn’t remember was oriented east or west on this particular day. “Come quick; he’s done!” And so they entered the bedroom for the first time in who knows how long, maybe Tuesday.

“Why do you have him tied up?” asked innocent Tealy, stuck on his one color. The more worldly, multi-hued Tillie explained it to him later.

“Oh, *that* kind of creation.”


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spoiled?

“Why are you here, Big Red? Can you not find the litter box again? I told you. Today is the 5th so you turn left at the stairs. If it was the 4th you’d turn right. You understand? Even and odd, Big Red. Just like we talked about. And then the 3rd Sunday’s Monday… but no need to complicate matters right now. Can you hold it in a bit more… until I guide you down the hall past the tailors to the correct room? Thanks for your patience. No need to pull out lumber or anything.” She was starting to sweat. A.B. Normal was influencing the future as well as the past too. He needs to merge with my 1/2 brother’s body and pronto! Besides: I get lonely. She concedes.

“Alright Big Red. Just this *one* time.”

“Ma – ma,” he squeals in joy while moving toward the east that was the west just yesterday. He’ll pick it up. Or not. Hopefully won’t matter soon.

(to be continued)

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Yes-i-am

A scientist that is, and the twins have fascinated me since their death and rebirth in 1874, when they were brought to my attention as Chief Medical Officer aboard the ever circling U.S.S. Ararat, also during a previous life mind you. Once I put such facts down on paper (or, these days, up on computer screens) it becomes real to me too, and as historically accurate as anything else produced from the annals of Our Second Lyfe. We’re working on it…

Above: Edith and Archina Bunker, fresh from a watery grave after their first lives as men Archie and Ed (photo by Telescope Ted).

From my orbital perspective I was able to directly study their 2 part brains — trace the duality back to a singular state, a Ylem Condition I called it, obsolete term now, and before it was used in Physics. I would even argue that the word was lifted from my studies in the late 40s during my second stint as a Chief Medical Officer, stationed over the Pacific instead of the Atlantic this time and assuming a new and different body with a different overall, attached name. Bodies, pheh. Can’t live with them (etc.). Now I am Rose but before I was Leela and, before that, Eyela. That should take us back far enough if memories serve. It’s all a long story.

The reason I can even talk about such things is that the attic of the house has just shifted over to the basement again, its proper position, since this is the third Sunday’s Monday of the year’s month’s day. Sorry to be so technical, but I’m trying to put this in perspective. I have employment of my lab and its microscope again and am not stuck with the attic’s telescope, useful in its day for long distance space experiments (see Telescope Monkey Trials of Xenon 10-C for another prime example of this) but limited when actually Earthbound, as I am now — in this house — in these icy woods on the edge of the world that is known as the Omega continent. My term again. Steal it if you must. 🙂

And, playing God to the hilt and influenced by my troubled water surroundings, I’ve managed to retro-engineer a man (!), an Adam to my Eve, except he came from *my* rib instead of visa versa, as popular Bibles around the Earth have preached. For now he’s just a Giant for a Day type of fellow but, maybe soon, Giant Forever as source material Genesis is further overridden and a return to anonymity is guaranteed after the erasure of a successful solo career (I get all this from Gabriel) — if I can merge 1st and 2nd so that you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Here’s hoping!

Sorry for the broken sentences but I’m excitedly writing this in the middle of the night with weakened coffee drink due to a pre-blog kitchen spillage. Tragedy! But I can properly replenish my supplies in the morning. Starbucks, let’s see, opens in 1/2 an hour…

I call him my 1/2 brother since he has my rib, but he also contains the brain of an A.B. Normal I picked up on my travels to the Further East for more silk and other exotic fabrics that my tailors can use. They *are* really good at making clothes from scratch. Just not good bodyguards as stated before. Thus the reason for transforming or *enclosing* the house here with a hypercube, a psychic overlay. Big Red would understand, if he could move past the 9th and into a 10th and denounce the singularity as well, becoming double brained too. I have all the charts here. He could be the one. I call him my baby because he is always sans clothing, even though the tailors beg me to allow them enough cloth to fashion at least a diaper, hmph. There’s always the big litter box down in the basement, er, up in the attic for that I always counter. And he will be one with my half brother soon enough. Even now, he’s been caught wandering into my red bedroom in the heart of the night, picking up on future memories instead of the past. One day…

(to be continued?)

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this be no occident

“Yeessss?” she called without turning from her equations and diagrams, hearing the plodding footsteps from all the way across the large house. She silently cusses her inept “tailors” who double as her bodyguards. Good thing her kingdom here is so safe thanks to her new big plan. Big Red doesn’t reply immediately so she addresses him by name the second time. Could be no one else. The famed player of the piano that always ends with the 9th. Even the purest of heart don’t usually get past 8, which is dinner for a few still. No one ate at 9. Unless they’re made of pure wood, persimmon in this case, she’s learned. A seed becomes a tree.

She turns to face him. Slow of mouth as well as body. But not mind — she knows that the hard way. Piece of metal in her head to remind her every time the phone rang at a certain pitch, ow ow ow. Cursed D Flat. And of course he composes half his stuff in that key any more. Just to rub it in.

Big Red is still scratching his head, confused about orientation. Where is the picture of the Siamese twins on the wall? Where is the *cat*? Turns out Rose Wells had turned the house around for more protection against intruders, since her, ahem, bodyguards were so inept. She’s decided to switch out directions every week — make that every even numbered week for the n-s polarity (she decides on the spot) and then every odd week for e-w. Then turn the whole house over every third Sunday’s Monday just for that extra layer of protection she always preaches about in her sermons. Scientific of course; she’s an atheist at heart, and almost pure enough to get through 7. That should do the trick, she figures. Even nestled in troubled waters as it were, this would make her place as milquetoast safe as fabled Nautilus itself if all goes to plan. Back to it — after telling Big Red what happened.

“What… did you do with my… *piano*!?” he boomed.

“Simmer down, simmer down,” she said, thrusting forth her hands after seeing lumber being gotten out. “Lemme explain.”

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not boxed in and correctly oriented

“Mistress said not to be disturbed.”

“Not to be disturbed”, echoes weaver Tealy to roller Tillie’s issuance.

Neither look up from their respective tasks. Big Red lumbers by them as if they didn’t exist. He opens the door to the far eastern room.

“We tried,” Tillie said afterwards, rolling a green one now.

“We did,” Tealy quickly followed, weaving his own color still. Always.

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southward

Elvis Kannelvis’ small, pine dominated Linden forest, shaped like an arrow, points directly to the center of X-City: the famed crossroads of Maebaleia/Satoris and the symbolic heart of the continent as a whole. As the heart goes so does the land, but right now we’re dealing more with a spade (upside down/oppositely colored heart) situation. A Menace has taken over. Where will Elvis go now? Will he simply remain in this wood forever and ever, finding out more and more information about The Line through nightly dreams?

He’s seen Randolph the Bastard Pirate and Wendy Wheeler Wilson rendezvous almost daily at the Kingpost pirate bar. He knows what goes on there; that was the beginning, what set it all in motion. The Line begins. Then we have Aunt Ginger on the complete opposite side of the 28 sim long phenomenon with the Intrepide tinies, herself being miniature as well most likely. Tealy and Tillie are on their way over there as I type, attempting to figure out the where/who/why of the vast explosion they saw the smoke billowing up from the other day from their home on the shores of Rubisea (also on The Line). Red being Devil Dave is in the mix too but I’m not sure how.

And then there’s Tessa.


“Steady as she goes, Fisher/Philip Strevor/Devil Dave!”

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2021-2020 WINTER”!

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Line of Linden’s

He was back in the small Linden woods just across the road from the Active Urban Mall, in turn just north of the Urban ice cream parlor — again, no relation that I know of. Point is, he was as far away from the sweets and especially that cursed strawberry-pineapple swirl as possible while still remaining active. Because he had to to fit into the hole, the whole “fit to fit” thing he’d come up with as a slogan, with posters all over the heart of town now. He’d soon be a true, local hero; he *was* a hero. Thanks to him rescuing those rabbit people over in Kitaro from the fires. But he felt he had an obligation to do that. He was, after all, partially responsible for the bomb destroying their quaint village. It should have hit the ice cream parlor! Oh well, The Line dictates where things hit and don’t hit. Take Kingpost: spared during the Great Civil War between northern and southern Maebaleia/Satori, yet conjoined and resonantly named King’s Stone and Druid’s Post a number of sims to the east were bombed almost back to stone; I’ll try to make a post about that horrible event which created confusingly named Lake Kingpost soon.

The woods were chilly tonight, not like the warm, vanilla colored couch of the ice cream parlor where he could lay his still quite pudgy, off-white garbed self like a baby in a manger. This was roughing it in comparison. No sweets, though — that’s the point. He puts his arms around his torso and shivers, eagerly waiting for the coming of sweet golden dawn.

—–

Elvis Kannelvis woke up. His head had been cleared of the remaining effects of the sweets. Cursed strawberry-pineapple! He realized The Line, amplified by the Linden trees around him — just enough to cause the effect — had made him dream strange things, like the burning of Strange Isle, like the bombing of Kitaro when actually Kingpost in the opposite direction was hit — or was it Kings Stone + Druid’s Post? Yes, the latter (two). That’s the explosion Tealy and Tillie saw that day in early May before their visit to Aunt Ginger in an attempt to right things on The Line. Tealy and Tillie were on The Line; Elvis Kannelvis, especially while in the sweets shop, was on The Line; sweet Wendy Wilson dressed in two different dresses soon to be one was on The Line over at her pirate outpost bar in Kingpost. And then finally Aunt Ginger to the far east, as east as you can go on The Line as Kingpost is to the west (and King’s Stone and Druid’s Post kind of more to the middle). Blue Bear Y and Wanda the Lower Minoan seem to be heading to her camp as well. To get a piece of Ginger, although the two visitors to her island are bickering about the decision. Was Wendy actually named Wanda and a secret miniature? That’s only one mystery awaiting us in Section 07.

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odessey and oracle

—–

It’s not about The Zombies. It’s the lighting, phew!

“Now let’s get out of here,” she said to herself, detaching the machete and the basket for the cut off heads before returning to The Line after adjusting her environment appropriately. Lightening up! Now all she had to do was find the Valentine twins and choose between the two: Natha Neil or Nata Lee?

—–

“Tealy?”

“Yes, Tillie?” They had almost weeded out all the infected plants from the garden. 3 days of toil and anguish. But no way could they eat most of this stuff. Giganticism!

“How would you like to… visit Aunt Ginger for Valentine’s Day?”

Must have been all the thoughts about the size of things that made her want to do this, Tealy rationalized. But she had other reasons.

—–

She affected the local speech. “Arrr. There be Randolph the Bastard Pirate and his three cornered hat.” She pushed the plate full of apples, oranges, bananas closer to him as he approached. “Ready to see which way the fruit swings?”

He sat down. He was ready.

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over the hills

“Sure is a perfect day, Tillie.”

“As usual, Tealy.” BOOOOOOOMMMM.

“What was *that*?” he exclaimed to his 4 colored partner.

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wedding 03

Weddings at St. Mary’s traditionally took place after the Munday sermon so Preacher Stephan had to sacrifice a Renaldo O’Donnell clown first to appease the Gods. Tradition as well.

“Oops, that was a real squirter Pitch, ha.” The Darklys excused themselves to go home and wash clothes.

Afterwards church officials found the sacrificial altar was too heavy to move, so they made do with a cheap wedding booth found buried in a pile of junk at the back of the annex. Toothpick and Elberta then said their “I do’s” to Preacher Ziegler, since Preacher Stephan, a Northerner, refused to acknowledge the Deep South tradition of marrying siblings as kosher.

At the reception, Marty sang one of his beautiful love ditties to Saffie sitting with Toothpick, Elberta and best man Zapppa, hoping to get a better rental unit out of it.

Time to cut the cake. Big Wanda becomes annoyed about the orange butterflies that keep flying off her head in the excitement and leaves the task solely to Toothpick.

As feared, Her Majesty the local bigfoot/yeti came up from the new hole behind St. Mary’s to pay her respects to the newlyweds but was surprisingly controlled by the Corona-V pirates and ended up not eating anyone.

Lastly: group picture. Everyone had a laugh about all the innuendos.

And that’s it! Log another Collagesity or Sunklands photo-novel in the books.

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