Tag Archives: The Musician

thorny situation

The Musician as Sikul Himakt was having that dream about roses again. Scene: VHC City; The Diagonal.

He sits in front of a video game featuring the Rising Sun with a odd retro cartoon punk who speaks Japanese.

In the dream he understands him. “There’s no side to choose,” he says as the game remains unplayed. Tiny Hermania looks down from the center of her rose tinted world, protesting the idea. “Choose!” she calls while hanging from a vine.

He grasps the red joystick. Pain! They were at the island tree, then. The Musician once again shows the cartoon punk the wound on his outturned hand.

The other hand he keeps to himself.

“I will remove the thorn and make this one better too,” he says, still speaking somehow understandable Japanese. The Musician starts to wake up. “I will make this better.”

He stares up at Chroma Jimmy, who is wrapping his left hand. The right one has already been bandaged. He was on the Asian couch at their lodgings. Jimmy chatters while continuing his twirlings. “As I said, I’m a physicist not a physician. But I worked with a man at the Australian Astronomical Observatory who studied stellar anomalies in the Southern Cross for years. Same thing happened to his hands, and also his side. Stigmata it’s called. Identification with the crucified Christ.” The Musician was about to protest that he wasn’t religious when Jimmy guessed the confusion. “Doesn’t matter about your faith. Something else is behind it. Philip wasn’t religious either, but he was a fanatic. Of science. Perhaps that’s all it takes. And… there, that should do it. The bleeding doesn’t seem to be stopping but it’s slowed down. Maybe that’s all we can ask of this condition, if yours tracks with Philip’s.”

“And stay away from that blasted island!” added Wheeler forcefully behind him.

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Filed under *Second Life, Comfrey, Gaeta V, Heterocera, Uncategorized, VHC City

What is it?

“I simply don’t remember this, um, display Musician.”

“It was here, Wheeler. It’s the same cave, after all.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“It’s the same,” exclaims The Musician again while now clinging to a thorny rose vine.

“It’s the same.”

Around the corner, Lou and Osborne Well titter.

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Filed under *Second Life, Comfrey, Gaeta V

stories

“See Musician? I told you I’d send for you.

“Just had to find the right pose.”

“Let’s find another one,” he demanded.

—–

“Not as good, Wheeler Wilson.”

“Shmursguug.”

—–

“I don’t understand what we’re doing here, Wheeler.”

“Shut up and get off my back you heavy lug.”

—–

“Another one with the back, Musician.”

“I think you’re suppose to be the man here, Wheeler.”

“Typical. And you’re getting your pink punk hair in my eye again.”

“A couple more still,” he requests.

—–

“It’s the owl’s head ring, Musician, hehe. Go ahead. You know you wanna.”

“Oh Jesus me,” he croons playfully while still clasping hand to mouth.

—–

“Psst. Don’t look now, Musician,” Wheeler whispered. “But that little red man is back again, ha.”

—–

“I’m pregnant, Wheeler Wilson. And this man who’s been following us around is our future son Sammy.”

“Makes sense.”

But then Jimmy breaks the spell. “Hi. I was wondering if you knew where the bathrooms are around here.”

—–

“I kind of miss Jimmy since he left, Wheeler.”

“Me too.”

“Let’s go find him and invite him to lunch with us.”

“Great idea!”

—–

“This is my favorite one of all.”

“Look, Musician, there’s Jimmy. Over here Jimmy!”

—–

“Trade with me, punk. I want to get to know Jimmy better.”

—–

“Service around here is awful, eh Jimmy?”

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Filed under *Second Life, Comfrey, Gaeta V, Uncategorized

hidden technicolor

Wheeler and The Musician realized that they weren’t going to be leaving Comfrey anytime soon.


“You stay camped here tonight, Musician, while I explore the rest of the place.”

But, still, all vacations have to end.

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Filed under *Second Life, Comfrey, Gaeta V

spots

Meanwhile, the upper 2/3rds of *Story Room*, so to speak — Pretty Man and Earie/Chuck — had decided to splurge on an early Christmas present and vacation in luxurious Comfrey on the Gaeta continent, noted for its staged environments. But those names are misnomers at this point, as Wheeler Wilson had fully changed back into a woman now after leaving the role of Pretty Man behind in Gaston, while The Musician had similarly set aside his desire to play female Chuck Cheese in addition to male Earie. So we’ve got a sort of reset for these two back to VHC City days from earlier in 2017. And I suppose that may mean they’re actually not the top 2/3rds of Story Room any longer either. Shoot.

The vacation literally got off on the wrong foot when Wheeler slipped on an icy spot while stepping out of the unicorn drawn carriage which brought them to their lodgings.

But luckily the fall only hurt her pride. New-ish shoulder pet Sidechick Corea was okay too.


“Pheh.”

—–

Baker Bloch — er, Pitch Darkly also had new digs, albeit of a more modest variety. He stares out from his porch across the water toward Clemscott, owned by the creator of his beloved Mary. He’s also decided to return to a prime state. He will not give up on his dolls.

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Filed under *Second Life, Clemscott, Comfrey, Gaeta V, Uncategorized

Alex and Albert

“Still no pot here,” complains a peering Chuck Cheese, out on bail for an hour from the Gaston-Berry Police Station. “Where *is* Alex?” She pauses. “Or was it Albert?”

Quickly checking the world map, she sees a green spot moving toward her own green spot. “Someone is coming. Could have been tracked. Bail time’s up anyway. Got to head back.”

—–

“Good. You’re back on time this time I see. But what happened to your hair?” asks Maury “Jiff” Monroe, the police staff psychiatrist.

“I sometimes take it off at night. Bed time, right?”

“Wrong. Interrogation time.”

Chuck blows out air in exasperation, rolls her eyes, and flings herself down on the cell cot. “15 more minutes down-time? Pleeeasse?”

An acquiescing Jiff goes back to his cubicle waiting for 10:15, when the grilling will resume. First off, he needs to find out about this Alex or Albert. Each bail period, Chuck spills a little more of the beans. It’s almost as if she’s doing it on purpose. Is she? he asks himself.

—–

“Why did he steal her color?” asks a studying Billy Jean Kidd over in Middletown.

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Filed under *Second Life, Gaston, Jeogeot, Middletown SL

back to the ward

The tutu wearing sack of sh-t has returned, Gaston-Berry Police staff psychiatrist Maury “Jiff” Monroe thinks, staring over from his cubicle at Gregg Oden passed out across three chairs against the west wall. He’s going to be sent up the creek a loooong time for this one.

Something’s different about him — it — though.

Of course: the hair.

—–

“(There’s) something about that police station,” speaks Billie Jean Kidd while studying former blog posts from her tower chair.

—–

“Who are you?”

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Filed under *Second Life, Gaston, Uncategorized