He was traveling down the Elephant’s Trunk, like Ant before him. Axis kept track of his progress with red pins, bigger and brighter than ever. Next stop if his dastardly design goes according to plan: Ephant. At the base of the trunk and marking it as truly an elephant’s. Axis knew his furloughed boss would land there. He always did.
The trap is set.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0605, Corsica, Northwest^
He sighs. “Black *is* beautiful. Oh Lily, why you do me this way? Why you do me this way?”
——
“Li-ly! Oh my darling wife Li-ly! Former wife Li-”
The phone rings, grinding Morgan Freechild’s attempt at a song to a halt. It’s Axis again.
——
“I *will* give your love to Lily,” he speaks into the phone to Axis a bit later. “Yeah, she’s right here,” he lies, “playing the piano as usual, he he.” Axis indicates he can’t wait to see them again; just has to tie up some business in *Fearzum* — *not* Fearzom — always gets a laugh, which Morgan does. “Okay, well I guess, um, I’ll see you after *that* — whatever it is.” Axis says he can’t talk about it then commences to talk about it for the next 15 minutes. “Sandman, eh?” responds Morgan Freechild to what he was revealing with obvious worry. “Well I haven’t seen or heard from him since he started preaching over at the Main Cheese Church in Heterocera; started wearing clown makeup all the time. I wonder what this Ant Man wants from him?” Axis replies that the name of the big ant is just Ant, with no Man attached and that would be a copyright issue if so. “Maybe that’s what it is, then,” says Morgan Freechild, administrative skills kicking in again. He was taking a break from all that, and Axis’ currently empty house fit the bill perfectly. Mountain retreat. Fearzom and not Fearzum. Strange, Morgan thinks once more, that Axis is involved in both. Maybe *I* should get involved with this, he ponders. Not tell Axis, just fly in and be done with it in a few hours. No stress involved. None atall. His old heart would be ticking none the worse for it. Good to get back to the old job, at least for a couple of hours. He decides then and there: Axis seems to need him.
It would be the worse decision of his life. Let’s just say he’ll never finish that love song.
flying back
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0604, Corsica, Northwest^
“Hello, Axis? Hiya, it’s Ant here. (reply) No, Ant, not *your* Aunt — any of the many of ’em. *The* Ant. Listen, I have a proposition. We’re downsizing here at [Elephant’s Trunk] because of the possible upcoming recession and all — (reply) what’s that? (repeat reply) YES, they’ll be a recession, perhaps a depression, but I’m not too depressed about it, hehe — (reply) Huh? Easter? What? Does Easter come in *August* this year, haha. Always gets a laugh. (reply) Yeah, yeah I’m practicing for a standup comedy routine, ho ho. Okay, to business. Parasol, you know, the red and blue eyed gal — lives up in Splinterwood last I heard. No, make that Benangatron or Benny or whatever they call that vampire burg these days. (reply) Phyllis — that could be it. Anyway, she’s just itching and itching and scratching and even clawing me a bit to bring back The Man, you know, her husband. (reply) I don’t know *when* that happened. They just sprung it on me one day. Parasol showed me that big red and blue ring on her — (reply) What’s that? (repeat reply). *That’s* where they had their honeymoon? (repeat reply). I don’t know where that is, Axis. (reply) Say I’ll know soon enough, eh? Wise guy eh? (reply) Oh you’re smart all right. Anyway — lost my train of thought here. (reply) Yeah right, The Man — thanks. Listen I don’t have any more time to talk. Just set up a meeting with me at Fearzum. (reply) No, I don’t mean your *house*. I said Fearzum. We’ve been through this a 1000 times. Fearzom and Fearzum are *different* sims. Just so happens that both are connected to you, weirdly enough. (reply) Yes, I said *Fearzum*. Now this is important. Bring the *Sandman*. (reply) You heard me. Just bring him. I’ll take care of things on this end. (reply) Well thanks for that, and goodbye to you too. See ya.”
A click on the other end, disconnecting Axis to Ant.
Staring at the receiver, Ant talks over to the man also on the phone next to him. “Hey Stan? I don’t know how to hang this thing up. How do you hang it up?”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0602, Corsica, Northwest^
“You’ve become part of the machine again, Axis.”
“I know, honey,” Axis wrongly termed the already committed and married Tronesisia. She took it in stride, knowing the bug would have its fun.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0415, Corsica, Urqhart^
—–
“Don’t turn around Jeffrie. You’ll draw suspicion — eyes everywhere here in Fearzum.”
“Okay.”
“Just listen.”
“I’m listening.” Jeffrie Phillips was patient that way. That’s why they paid him the big bucks.
TronAxis continued, leaning in a little closer. “There’s trouble in Urqhart, Jeffrie. The story there ended too soon and Baker Bloch has to fill out the rest. *Your* mission, if you so choose — and that’s why we’re paying you the big bucks (Jeffrie Phillips nods here) — is to find out who lives in that Gothic House on the edge of Centre Sink. Just a little over there in front of me. He stares toward the small, granite topped mountain in that direction, knowing the central sink lay not far beyond.
Jeffrie Phillips, from his angle, was looking toward a larger version of the same, intuiting that the answers they seek lie in that direction as well.
“I’ll get on it as soon as you pay for my breakfast,” Jeffrie requested, knowing he was well worth it. Later researchers found the tab to contain 3 eggs, toast and waffles, although they weren’t sure who ate what since it was all in one bill.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0408, Ashenlave^, Corsica
They continued to talk while Herbert Gold, dead again, danced frantically at the bus station in the background, obviously in a dream trance. Tessa looked over, convinced that Grandpa finally wasn’t going to come back this time. Platinum through and through he was now, with wife April Mae (not related to Tessa except through marriage) truly a widow. The vision made her point more important.
“We *must* set aside differences to explore what remains of Our Second Life, gentleman.” Tessa was wise now, thanks to what happened in Bellisaria, which we’ll get to in a minute. “North — South — it doesn’t matter. Whatever is left of the World of Lemon must be chronicled as best as possible while there’s still time to find traces of it here and there.” She indicated the surroundings with her hand. “Like right here in RustpORt in Heterocera’s Pond District. Why the OR emphasized in the name to highlight the sim here (Or)? Why the water levels at 65 instead of the regular 20 — an anomaly common in this area? Such broad mysteries, ready to be explored, must not remain unanswered or our overall mission has failed. Gentlemen, this is the test, the challenge. Lay down your arms. Stop bickering and look all around you — observe. The fight you have is small compared to what lies all around. There are still *traces*. Traces can be used to sketch out a broader picture. You *must*–”
“Yes, I know, I know. My military style knife must go,” butted in Jer Left Horn to her immediate left. “TronAxis’ *frisbee* must go. ”
“How *dare* you,” Axis to his left returned. But with a smile now. Indeed the child before them had warmed their hearts, opened their minds with her stories and information. The Bellisaria island she stayed on after leaving the cave system the key to seeing Our Second Lyfe as a globe, a sphere? Incredible! Pode and Anti-Pode: it was the only place — well, the south slice of the island that lay in the sim of Grote — to resonate with land on the opposite side of this world. New Amsterdam revealed, which then became New York but bombed back to New Amsterdam conditions in the year… well, better not reveal that yet. I’ll let Rebl do it later on, who is the same as Parasol. Shame she couldn’t join these avatars in Or for the end of the current Collagesity photo-novel.
Oh wait. There she is.
“1926,” she answered cryptically to the camera, still with one red and one blue eye. The underwater operation was a success. Or was it a complete failure?
END OF “COLLAGESITY 2019-2020 WINTER”!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0705, Bellisaria, Grote, Heterocera, New York, Pond District^
Before heading over to Kowloon, Jer Left Horn makes a stop in VHC City to pause and reflect on the recent death of the user behind longtime Virtual Hotel Chelsea manager Enola Vaher. Although I didn’t know the avatar (or user), VHC City, centered around the huge hotel, figures prominently in my mythology through, primarily, The Diagonal, which is now one (Head) of 2 (also: Heart) I’ve found spanning the Heterocera continent. I hope the hotel can carry on beyond this blow, and certainly the rental situation there continues to be healthy and, most likely, self sustaining for a while. Many musical events go on all the time there as well.
Jer Left Horn at Enola Vaher’s “Finely Torn Id” gallery in what I call VHC City.
—–
Moving on to Kowloon, Jer Left Horn decides to first stop by Fish Head’s bar to catch up with all the latest news. The first thing he notices are the bent stools in the back.
“Fight in here, Head?” he questioned while sitting down at the nearest, upright stool, becoming suspicious off the top. He had his knife at ready in the belt under his jacket just in case.
“Oh, you know. Typical Tuesday night. Some of the Queen’s gang letting off steam.”
*You’re* one of the Queen’s gang, Jer Left Horn thinks to himself. Why the separation between you and them? The hand slides down to grip the handle of the knife.
“Like who?” he tried to ask as calmly as possible. “Norton Wise Turtle?” He forced a smile here. Everyone knew the big man-turtle was a first rate troublemaker.
“Yeah, him. And, let’s see — Space Ghost!”
“*Space Ghost*?” Jer Left Horn turns left. Then: nothing for a long while.
——
He wakes up in some kind of pod swimming with shrimp, it appeared. He keeps his eyes frozen, military training snapping into action in a moment of crisis.
“You’re getting old again, Space Ghost. Better head back to the time machine,” requested likewise observing TronAxis. “The shrimp have almost extracted all the information they need.” TronAxis returns his attention to Jer Left Horn’s floating form in the cylinder: the still frozen eyes, the glazed over look. Shouldn’t be long though, now, he thinks. Is there life already in that face?
The cylinder shatters. Jer Right Horn steps out, dry as a whistle, knife ready. The shrimp flip and flop helplessly around the floor amidst the spilled yellow liquid and broken glass, task unfinished. Now old Space Ghost knows he’s no match for the young prince and hobbles away from the scene as fast as possible. TronAxis stands steady, light disk at ready. He knew of Jer Left Horn’s military background — should have taken more steps to ensure his secureness. Hindsight is golden I suppose. But this is the way it was suppose to be, he adjusted to the situation. Me versus him.
A narrow boat materializes before the fleeing Space Ghost in the middle of the pool of water just beyond the pod room: Tessa, sans her driving challenged grandpa this time but still a dreamer. And this is the aforementioned Kow Pond, also known as Loon Lake. Indeed the center of it all. Thanks to Tessa.
“Gentlemen!” she called back into the shadows behind old Space Ghost. “Set down your arms!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0704, Heterocera, Kowloon^^, VHC City^
“The Queen is happy and sleeping in her royal bed,” recites Tronaxis (new name!) at his virtual reality game command center. “No stopping us now, right Cpt.?”
But then Tron revamped Axis remembers that he bagged and gagged Cpt. Americus earlier in the evening and left him hanging to dry. And the turtle (Norton Wise) had been turned into soup. And Fish Head’s head would turn since he’d been bought off. I will be the champion! he inwardly crows.
Purple mutt Ralph, a non word-processor, keeps guard and growls with every slight movement. The Cpt. within has learned to stay still and not eat the remaining white and grey matter in his magically replenishing bucket. Because he has a plan. The first, true, has been stolen and appropriated by (Tron)Axis but the second, the new one, is even better. He will *help* the Heart Queen in an about-face. Kick his traitorous ways down the road a bit, biding his time. If only he can get out of the current situation. Come on, white and grey matter, he urges, knocking his head with the drumstick still in his hand and inciting another growl from Ralph.
“Everything all right over there Ralph?” Tronaxis didn’t need a smart dog, only a loyal one. That’s all he demands from any of his subjects. Obedience; loyalty. The Heart Queen and he are too similar in that way. Eventually, ultimately, one or the other had to go. He hopes it’s her.
If only he had an ally — a human one this time and not an obedient mutt like Ralph. Tronesisia? No, she’s not an obedient robot/gynoid any longer, having broke her programming. Peter? But Tronaxis still didn’t really know who that was. Besides being a clone of Peter Gabriel of “Lamb”, etc., fame. Oh wait — there’s Randolph.
Just down the alley.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0616, Kowloon^^
Sunklands 