“The blog owners were here inquiring about progress,” TronAxis speaks down to an imaginary Venus Flytrap, his estranged partner for the moment. “They’re asking about the Kate McCoy/Katy Kidd timeline, wondering how long it will take to get back to the Storybrook story, the main one.”
“Nineteen,” she says upwards.
“What’s that dear?”
“We’re on nineteen. The Sun.”
“The Who?”
—–
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0410, Corsica, Southeast^
Axis felt it should be *him* sitting there, talking to Kind Of. Not this Prof. *Young* Harris. Young, indeed. Gone around the South Bend if you ask him, far far from the North, pheh. But it is what it is at this point. Let’s focus in on the conversation.
“I haven’t been to Strange Creek in a long long time, Mr. Messed Up 02.”
“*Kind Of* Messed Up 02,” Kind Of corrects, knowing he wasn’t — yet — on the nutty level of his master actually named Messed Up. He kind of explains this to Prof. Young Harris, then, who nods in semi-understanding.
“I had a mother once, who was kind and then messed up. I think I understand.”
Kind Of moved on. He said things were even weirder in Strange Creek these days, thus the furthering of the name. “It’s *Stranger*,” he punctuates.
Prof. Young Harris then has an idea, and points up in a Eureka moment. “Cyan!” he exclaims quite loudly, pricking Axis’ ears even more.
He imagines his wife standing before him. “What have I done?” he asks. “*I* had to be Young Kane instead. The transgressions.” He shakes his head while she stares steady. He thinks he should probably get back to her…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0215, Corsica, Stranger Creek^
Wheeler decides to beat her to the punch. If there *is* evidence of a continuation in Jumboro and this attached Jumbo Core, she was going to find out herself. No filtering through bias. And, besides, Hucka Doobie has a kewl beauty of her own as a strong African-American woman struggling in a white male society. Yes, Wheeler admires her very much. She wishes she were equally spiritual, but there’s the Venus in her that is always niggling away at the good, the correct, the *Christian*. The Lord and The Lamb do not find favor in her sometimes — often. Oh, Axis is right, she thinks then and there, perched on the rooftop of a skybox she had no business prying into. But she was here now, bad instincts taking over again. Might as well take a peek inside.
The Jumbo Core, yes. Amazing. And Jumbo is perhaps the most famous elephant of all time, a Barnum and Bailey product, like oppositely sized Tom Thumb. Wheeler studies the alternately green and yellow colored squares of this “grassy base”, as the description puts it. Is this the original 9×9 square of sims? she ponders. It *must* be in some way. But what does it mean? Anything about the objects positioned upon it? But Wheeler can discover nothing of marked note.
nothing of marked note
She looks all around the rest of the skybox remotely before “accidentally” moving through the wall behind this grassy base into a back room that she hadn’t *checked* for some reason. A broad smile formed on her face. “Yellow-green and red-violet!” she cried aloud, seeing the 2 colors juxtaposed, floor to wall. The Thomas Main and Nick Barkley story can continue!
And her own, she realized.
END OF “COLLAGESITY 2020 EARLY”!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0705, Ashenlave^, Corsica
“I keep telling you Wheeler, er, Venus, that Corsica is an elephant. It keeps coming up again and again. And by this I don’t mean Bracket’s foolish Comma Islands. The *real* Corsica. The one with crates with meaningful content.”
Wheeler/Venus waves her hand dismissively toward the thing both blue-green tinted beings were staring at: the, um, *object* in the middle of the room. “Continent… content. What’s the difference. Just open it will you. Get this photo-novel done.” And I was *so* looking forward to playing Venus Flytrap, she seethes inwardly. Axis is just going to nip it in the bud because he thinks we should refocus on Red Star, blocking up reality like, well, like *Seven* never existed. Seven Across, 7th seal, whatever. Seven is gone. Five is apparently where we’re at and where we’ll stay. Square of Mars.
“I have one more mission to accomplish before we can wrap things up, open the crate. Hucka Doobie is set to go to the northeast corner of Jumboro, right beside your New Orleans Blues Little Rock club, to revisit the *Jumbo* Core related skybox that Baker Bloch got, er, blocked from several days back.”
Wheeler would have had a glimpse of hope for Seven — the lives and potential deaths of Chry State’s Thomas Main and Chry U.’s Nick Barkley, etc. — if it weren’t Hucka Doobie heading the mission, because, from what Baker Bloch told her recently, the bee person seemed to hate her now. No way is she going to produce evidence for the continuation of Venus Flytrap, pheh. Is she?
One way to find out.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0704, Ashenlave^, Corsica
Axis’ wife Wheeler, who was turning into a new character called Venus more and more every day, piggytailed blue hair correspondingly lengthening and cartoon aspects enhancing, decided to put on her investigating feet as well and head to Seven Across, a sim a little north of Fearzum which she knew had relevance now. Perched on a hilltop at its southern edge, she pondered on a new last name to go along with the first. Flytrap, she decided, after remotely peering around a corner.
Her Second Lyfe was just that syncy these days.
—–
Waiting in a nearby New Orleans Blues Little Rock bar for the inevitable next storyline to appear, she decides to focus on the 5-6-7-8 beyond her usual 1-2-3-4. TILE, in other words. She’d learned about the wannabe religion from Thomas. Who was Thomas? I hear you asking, perhaps with a sigh. Well he’s the Main man around these here parts, a Chry State graduate designing separate fall and winter landscapes over in the northwestern part of the sim. He knows nothing about shields and psychics of course, but physics — he’s a wiz! Venus may need his help in that department very soon. Because she’s had it up to her blue keister with Nick Barkley, who just happens to be Thomas Main’s arch-nemesis and who, 7 days and 7 nights later, has a gun pointed directly at his head by the former. And on the 8th day they rested — one of ’em, perhaps both of ’em — in a freshly dug grave.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0702, Ashenlave^, Corsica
“Sorry about Santman, boss,” robot doorman Chuck bellowed in his giant voice down to passing (Tron)Axis, who didn’t speak up. Highies usually didn’t acknowledge Lowies in Fearzum-town, and Axis was not one to break protocol on this. But indeed he was sorry about it too. He had high hopes for a new and copyright free superhero named Santman. Highest of the high.
—–
Meanwhile, over on the Elephant’s Trunk of the Corsica continent to the west (keeping in mind that Corsica is an elephant, an ever popular meme), Axis’ wife Wheeler had gone back to her old routine: essentially waiting for the return of her hubbie from Fearzum back to Fearzom or thereabouts, most recently in Rond. But they had moved on from Rond that night we visited them there recently, and Wheeler seems to now have a place near her beloved Cafe Maroon in Red Mars. Because we will probably end this here present photo-novel, 18th in the Collagesity photo-novel series, in Fearzom or thereabouts instead of Fearzum or thereabouts, where Axis still is. Good chance; Red Mars dictates this. And Venus. Venus and Mars may or may not be alright tonight. Marty might know. In fact…
“I never figured it out neither,” he spoke up to me (The Lord) from a beach bar in Wet Hoof. But he still might be a lover to Wheeler on the side…
… unless it’s Marvel Man. Yes, let’s just go with that, The Man freshly regurgitated back out of Ant after the failed Santman project. I believe there’s still a bit of ant saliva dripping from his hair, which he deftly covers with his old Elvis wig on a larch lark. We’ll catch up with the 2 in Cafe Maroon.
“But aren’t you married to Parasol?”
The Man quickly recedes into the background with this, remembering obligations to his wife. *He* is faithful, even if she isn’t. The Man always had one true love, the Eve to his Adam, the Wo-man to his Man. And Dog makes 3.
No, let’s instead just have Axis return from Fearzum to Fearzom (or thereabouts), reunited with his wife after the failed Santman project but also successful Morgan Freechild killing in nearby Ephant, just down the line at the beginning of the trunk. 1/2 and 1/2. They decide to celebrate the latter instead of be sad for the former.
“You didn’t turn your back on me,” spoke Wheeler, now in a blue-green Venus wig befitting her new status as queen of Cafe Maroon, queen of Red Mars itself most likely.
“No,” he answered in his handsome voice. “I gave up the office, the view of the granite topped Ashenlave summit, just to be here with you. I hope you’re happy (about it).” There was remorse in his pretty tone. He knew Wheeler was behind the Santman failure. She needed him here, and here he was, blue-green as well. Faithful. For now.
“Do you like my new look?” she spoke over to similarly coffee sipping Axis, more immersed in the Tron machinery than ever. “I made it just for you, just for this place. Fearzom or thereabouts.”
“Stop saying that,” he quickly snapped back.
—–
We could actually end our current photo-novel here, but The Pattern dictates that there are 7 or 8 or 9 or 10 additional posts to go, perhaps even a little more. Fearzom not Fearzum will be the rule. Unless it changes. Thanks for continuing to read!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0609, Ashenlave^, Corsica, Northwest^
Sunklands 