Waiting for more change in Spornimore. Sporminore.
Everybody has them, some more than others (apples, oranges, bananas).
After so much effort he’d finally caught one. Himself.
Gathering of clones (Umbrella Club inductees).
Tag Archives: UMBRELLA+
Black
A new crop of potential recruits has shown up on what they call Umbrella Beach on the western edge of Nautilus’ Crisp Sea, chatting after the delicious, shrimp dominated buffet. Decision time coming up. Whether to step into the shade of the protecting umbrella or go back out into the glare of the harsh, unrelenting sun, all exposed and for everyone around to gawk at in their increasing redness. Red ironically protects against red, they said during the meal, standing up one by one, these past recruits, to give their testimonies of success and life fulfillment through the initiative, the collective. Already, one here was basically under the umbrella, decision made, shackles (of outside life) removed and legs to be retreated back in the shade with the rest, perhaps even before I write this sentence. The purple clad one in the background middle was also about to cave, being a bigger shrimp lover than Lois in white. Sitting down Darla was just ready to go home and be done with it, another one forced here by a prevert relative trying to seduce her to the dark side. “Okay, okay,” she said to her mother Tulipia in a call between meal and beach. “You win. We’ll move to Ohio.” Joy in the Conner household tonight. Uncle Albert would *not* be tagging along, thanks to a restraining order issued by Pinky, Darla’s father, just yesterday.
Speaking of which…
“Medium build, medium height, wearing a black bathing suit. Any idea?”
“Sir you just described about half the girls that walk on this beach.”
“Oh. Thought of something else. She wears a Venus Cage necklace. Very distinctive. I don’t think (smile?) you’d be able to miss it.”
“Just a moment; hold on. I promise not to do anything stupid.” Beach cottage owner and secret “receiver” Claude briefly goes inside and retrieves a box, opens it for the stranger. “You mean like *these*?”
It was full of such. Claude gives them away to every girl lured in by the bosses. He doesn’t tell Albert they’re trackers as well. They know where you are.
“Whatever that picture you’re referring to, every one of those girls up there has sent back the same to their family.” He also doesn’t tell Albert they track even through photos. Powerful amulets indeed.
“Interesting information,” says Albert, the uncle of not one but several girls involved down through the years. He comes from a pretty big family. “Just for that, I’ve decided not to shoot you.”
Relieved look?
“Just kidding! POW POW… POW.”
No wounds. Albert wasn’t kidding. Just a water gun… this time.
“You *fell* for it [delete name],” he said while walking away, already plotting Plan B.
—–
Dripping Claude runs inside, calls the boss who would care the most and explains the hold up. “We have another situation,” he says, knowing the boss would understand. “Heading your way.”
“We’ll take care of it,” the boss says to him in a deep, level voice made for a crinimal. “We’ll send him to the Abyss. With the others.”
“Good deal.” [Delete name], *pheh*.
far away from the old
“Wheeler says I got to grow up fast so’s I can married George, Milo. Whereever he is.
“So I took this job at the bar below the castle. *Pretend* job, anyways. I don’t know nothing about mixing drinks or anything, Milo. But it makes me appear *big*. In the eyes of others at least.”
Milo meows meekly, perhaps unconvinced, and moves himself and his two attached eyes on his little kitty flannel cap away from Shelley, hopping down to the ground in order to get to the milk bowl for a refresher. Suddenly she doesn’t feel that big; feels exposed again to the world with the pussy not directly in front of her, protecting her, comforting her. The castle is just out of view to her right, thankfully. She doesn’t want to think about marriage right now, nor the child that would supposedly be born from her loins despite the race difference, a child already *here* — future style. Speaking of which, here comes her first potential customer of the day her career. Wheeler, wearing the latest postmodern beachwear from Germany. At least Liz isn’t with her, she thinks — probably left up at the castle with Newt or whatever he’s going by these days. Perhaps Man in Black still. Nah, she remembers, that persona was ditched with the return to the peninsula. *Her* peninsula they kept calling it.
Wheeler spots Shelley in the distance, comes over. “Oh hi, just heading down to the ocean to catch some serious rays today. You like?” She turns around, modelling the futuristic — thing. Purple force fields instead of cloth. Daring! And the *back*… She recalls the photo in the box, the one that caused so much trouble. Borneo.
“Yeah, sure.” Does Wheeler even know? she ponders. Suddenly she wished Liz was with her so she’d have someone to talk with about all that.
“Soo… what’re *you* doing down here?” Shelley comes out from behind the bar, chickening out of the role play. “Oh nothing. Just playing, heh.” She stands awkwardly in front of the outfit, wondering how all that worked. Plasma? Lasers?
Wheeler looks in the distance again, spots the place she wants to lay to maximize her time in Our Second Lyfe’s always bright sometimes tanning sometimes burning sun. Nah, best to move one spot over so she’ll be under the umbrella later on. She looks at Shelley again with this, notes the eyes through the reflected purple glow. Still ordinary brown, it seems — no books in them yet, nor the rest of the interwebs. That will come later. But it better come quick.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0612, Nautilus, NORTH, Rooster's Peninsula
designs
“You should really look at the scenery while you’re here, Baker Bloch.”
“Busy eating grapes right now, thanks.” He spits another skin into the sand while digesting the innards of one, another being positioned to pop in. After a good number of tries (MUNCH) he’s actually starting to like the fruit, but the outside can still go to hell as far as he’s concerned. Phooey on it. SPIT Phooey!
“I’ll surf in a minute and that’ll catch your attention.” She would wink at him if he weren’t facing the other direction.
Understanding Wheeler and her ways, he briefly pauses in his activity to point to a sign on the beach’s edge.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said, using the eyes in the back of her head to observe. “But wouldn’t it be fun if you actually *cared*.”
“TILE balloons over there,” he deflected. SPIT
“Whatever.” She was really beginning to see why Hucka Doobie was so frustrated with him (MUNCH), even causing her to turn back into a bee-person lately, it seemed. Probably a bathroom break coming up… now.
SPIT “Gotta wee,” he said while rising. She must be reading the script again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0413, Hana Lei^^
00330201
“”What’s wrong, honey? (no answer) Oh dear, are you channeling again? (no answer) Is it… the triangles?”
She sat there all glassy eyed for a while like 2 marbles were planted in her head in place of eyes. Then…
—–
“What you cooking today Eddy?!” shouted the runny man, passing by.
“Hot dogs!” he called back. “But made with veggie stew!”
“Cool! Catch you later, then!” Tom shouted, his voice receding in the distance as he headed toward the far corner of the strange, rectangular green pool that centered the apartment complex they both lived in, this Paradise Town as it liked to call itself. The pool begs to differ, because it also has a name, usually unspoken. Tried to be forgotten.
—–
Common denominator: umbrellas.
charmed
“Find out who is in that 9th spot and find out if black or white went first,” Agent 47 orders in his dream to Joey Avatar while hovering above it all. He doesn’t realize the impossibility until the next morning while eating his 9-sided Toasty O’s and remembering the game. But the tree is 9; the other vendor is 8. Time to head back to the plaza for some nitty gritty research. He takes a broom and knocks it against the ceiling, knowing Joey would understand. 3 times. 9 times. Magic Square.
He wakes up for real this time. He turns to Bart on the couch, cleaned up at last and looking like a little cartoon boy again, perhaps 9 himself. Saturn-9. But at what price? 1,000,000? Just then, Bart begins to glow as if radioactive. He’d been exposed, he knew — tricked even. He’d have to deactivate himself. Joey won this time. But there’s always regeneration.
He wakes up once more.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0317, Wendy-Ontario
levels
“1st off, the umbrella girl in Lorsters Worst *gives* umbrellas, doesn’t just hold one. That’s a big difference in my eyes.”
“That means,” speculates Dickie Doom as well, “Blue Rose Thorn is still relevant, despite being stuck.”
“What I’m thinking,” Debbie agreed. “I’m going back. You stay here in case I need to be rescued.”
Dickie nodded. This was the end of their discussion until something else developed, something totally new. Because the umbrella girl wasn’t giving out umbrellas until Debbie showed up.
—–
There are *2* Dooms, thinks Pot-D or Pan-Z spy Lester Best from his position just around the corner. And the second is recording(!).
Debbie walks inside. Now to figure out how to get this elevator from 01 to 02, she pondered, and started touching stuff.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0107, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra^, Yd Island^
return to center
The candy sentry eventually, inevitably said no no no to the Mosses’ candy shopp and sent it away, along with all their other stuff gathered on the Crypto parcel. “Illegal,” it said. “Unlawful.” But the Mosses get away unscathed except for loss of property, stuff of dreams over.
Only a bit in the formerly unseen basement remains, packed up in one corner.
Then it’s on to Perch-Mistletoe next door to meet Dickie for Debbie, the agent sent in by Pot-D (or maybe Pan-Z) to replace absorbed Blue Rose Thorn still over in Lorsters Worst. Looks like rain.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0106, Nautilus, Oooo, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra^, Yd Island^
head regained
Carla covered her ears, sick of hearing the booms. It’s just as loud over here as back on the beach! she complains within.
White clad Morna beside her had bigger problems. She was about to be cast into the sea with the sharks by Peggy. Peggy didn’t want to hear no shit about Baker Bloch Marty Uncle Albert being a prevert, despite being the reason for Zizzy of the Ditzy and Zizzy duo to be shipped off to Camp Umbrella next to the Crisp Sea, or so she said. Now there was yellow between and a new element involved — more balance.
3rd eye. Triangle.
—–
“Let’s stop here, Baker, and contemplate what we just wrote.”
“W.”
“In the flesh!”
—-
We return to ring woman and the generation of it.
We are about to go up the path to see what’s over the hill, monsters left behind in the dust. 2:23 soon, tick tick tick.
How about that records management manual now?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0031, 0614, collages 2d, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West
00310605
She looks down at the blue and white umbrella in the distance and realizes this is the same as Bear Island, ruled by Ted. Much larger dimensions of course, but: the same. Now to figure out where this is going. An examination of the land to begin. Retirement Island? Appears so, yes. But is that the official nomenclature? All this has happened before. Baker Bloch, a bobblehead, on his neighboring isle, within easy earshot for continued communication.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0031, 0605, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West
Sunklands 