Tag Archives: W/India^^

November 14, 2021 · 9:36 am

resemblance 02

Baker Bloch comes back to study it, knowing he was summoned.

“What do you think it is, W.?”

“You know what it is,” she replied, still beyond the frame. Probably Wheeler don’t you think? Maybe not.

“Oracle,” he answered. Both were thinking, of course, of Carrcassonnee. She’s returned (!).

“You put the eye in there,” she stated, ready to move beyond the veil, “and you’ll *see*.”

I wonder additionally if this is Borneo. Borneo to Delphos, actually. “Whadaya think, Blackey?” he says to his bird on his shoulder, the same size from this angle as the blackbird in the background more in the center of the beach, highlighting its name. Staring up as well, Blackey thinks hard. He knows it has something to do with TILE.

(to be continued)

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November 13, 2021 · 11:12 am

resemblance

It’s called The Rock, W. And on top, a radio tuned to a rock station currently playing The Beatles. We must look for nodal points (in these here photo-novels).”

“(We must look for nodal points) in these here photo-novels,” she echos. “Find me.”

—–

“Are you Wagner?” No answer.

—–

Baker peers again. “Kind of looks like a man, don’t you think? With a mossy beard and all, perhaps (looking again), a veil. Cap and a veil.”

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November 11, 2021 · 8:26 am

Scratchy 02

“What does it mean, W?”

“You’re such a funny person, asking so many questions.”

“Stairway to Heaven, I’m guessing. End of Up(pelin).”

“So many…”

——

Anyway, this was Heaven, White as.

Better get back to George.

—–

*There* it is (!)

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November 10, 2021 · 9:51 am

redding

“I could just ram this smaller grey boat crosswise through those bigger black and white boats over there and end this.” Josh Richardson: professional insultant.

Called back to Maebaleia? Tour aborted? Fern Stalin better hightail it out of here in her own, much larger vessel. If she could only get the darn thing started. “Turn baby! Turn!”

—–

We’re losing characters right and left in this new photo-novel. We’re up to 30, W. Should I call you W still?”

W: “Sure”. Small pause. “Whatever rings your bell.”

“Bell, right.” He’s remembering. And Clare, the other head, the one actually attached to the body. Better find them, talk to them about TILE. Before the boy returns. But her house next to the snow and granite, Tennessee and Kentucky schism chasm is gone. And Clarksey is a bit too far away to use yet, both in space and in time.


*huff huff huff*

“It’s a conundrum, W.”

“You set them up. You knock them down. You’ll push through. Find me,” she ends.

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June 9, 2021 · 6:20 am

The Fawcett Bros

“I’m *freezing* in here, Mr. F. Why, um, why don’t we close the windows?”

“I like… the billowing drapes,” he said coldly, without emotion. “Allows… me to thiiink.”

“Sure, sure,” I spoke back, shivering as usual. I guess they didn’t name him Mr. Frost for nutt’n.

“Torchboy,” he spoke to me, using that nickname I hated so much. “Turn down the space heater.” He pointed to the floor at the softly humming device. “You’re ruining the effect for me.”

I guess it would help if I put on a shirt, but I liked to show off my scorch’n tattoos. Over there is a tiger, and then there is another tiger, and then another tiger over there–

“I’m going to interrupt you here, baker b.,” said W., coming out from behind a curtain. We need to return to Picturetown, Canada. It’s the only way to properly end.”

—–

They sat for hours like this, one still too hot and the other too cold, despite the hot body art. “Torchboy” had caught on. The wind speaks!

“Has the wind… ever called itself ‘W’ to you?” he asked at exactly 1/2 past 6. Maybe they should eat something, but neither could pry themselves away from the mesmerizing voice.

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June 5, 2021 · 3:31 pm

the one and the many (Lost Angels)

—–

“We’ve lost the Angels airport with the red Kentucky book, W. I can’t find a substitute.”

“Check SL Marketplace for heart chair.”

—–

“No go. We’ll have to ask Alysha.

The emergency vehicles at the airport in the same sim are gone too. The many and the gone.”

—–

“Think I found something: ‘wire chair’ instead…”

—–

“Boy, *Hidi* found it quick. But still no book. It’s not the same table and set of chairs. *Looks* the same… but different (animations).”

“Shoot. (pause after mild cuss) Might as well have her shop some more while she’s there. No harm in trying demons.”

“Demos,” I corrected.

—–

17 hours later:

“We’ll have to try something different.”

“No go on Angels, no go on Demons. Only one direction left.”

“The way of Norris,” I guessed. Neutrality.

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June 2, 2021 · 8:53 am

finger pointing

“They called it McIntyre’s Switch because it’s in McIntyre (sim) and it’s where people and people-like animals came to get turned on. Obviously Lemmy is a pusher.”

“That’s pretty good,” W admitted, just around the corner. “What about Sweet Lips (then)?”

“I’m getting to that. And: thanks!”

—–

“They called him a racist rat after he had established his 1st diner in McIntyre’s Switch. But for a white supremacist, he was pretty hip. He enjoyed black music, and that turned him around. He said it was just a club for socializing, this whole… *persona*.”

“The whole white rat thing,” said W, still into it. “So tell me about this, um, Social Circle.”

“Thanks again. He was a reborn white supremacist because he had gotten rid of all the black thanks to the good doctor. This was, of course, long before he himself became a Mouse, as in Dr. Mouse. Back then he was mere Paul Black, a vet studying to be a dr. and desiring to move from animal to man status and get out of the shadow of his more successful brother.”

“Brothers,” chipped in W.

“Okay. (pause) So that kind of clears up the doctor’s origins.”

“But they rejoined forces later on, this doctor and his mouse, his greatest creation as it turned out, much bigger than the Bendy thing.”

“Another removal of black, yeah. And — here — you can *see* Sweet Lips (sim) just out the window of the establishment. This proves it is directly linked to the Oracle.”


window to Sweet Lips

“And Paul’s Switch. That would be sometime in the 60’s. Well, obviously, at or around the time of Penny Lane.”

“And Arnold Layne.”

“I think we have all we need tonight.” W started putting things back in her pocketbook, viewable from just around the corner.

“I forgot to mention that Lemmy is also a mascot.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” She had almost finished gathering up her stuff. Lipstick. Toothpick. Mascara. And a little special toot for later. McIntyre’s Switch indeed.

“No, but you see, Lemmy is also a tree… tree mascot. Greentree.”

“Gotta go. See ya!” And she tooted on the way out, being good at hiding it. Good at hiding in general.

(to be continued)

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June 2, 2021 · 7:36 am

lost and found

“So (the phenomenon) all started in this here diner. Pansy?” START Dr. Mouse looked around but no actual or at least anthropomorphic mouse could be found. Had he turned into Jasper the littlest formerly between his ears and scurried away to safety and obscurity? Possibility.

—–

“Theories, W.”

“Well… I think this diner is obviously the first Pooping Pigeon, start of a chain. Obvious, right?”

“Possibility,” I said again, not ready to pin down that particular reality to this here blog, 25 in a series of… I mean 26 in a series of…

“Probability at *least*,” she countered. “Probable reality. We must go down that path, that avenue.”

“Hot Dog, the 6th victim who became the most famous, on the wall in back, true,” I admitted, starting to see the light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

“Ketchup on one side,” also observing W spoke. “Mustard on the other. Two squirters who are also squirts. It was a great marketing tool.”

“Funny how they hold his buns instead of him… as Hot Dog I mean. Emphasis on the buns.”

“Right. See how this is working out? No need to stop.” STOP

—–

“I can’t name the Amazon Amazonia, W. I have a tag of that name.”

“Trivialities. No need to bother the reader with such. START You need to find the 12th (Source tile), like I pointed out before.”

—–

Wendy went away from the register and approached the counter again. “Who let you in here?”

“I let myself in,” replied Duncan, seeing the game beginning again. Long, long tunnel.

“Yeah, don’t lean into me like that. Pansy!” she called back to the register. “A little help over here!”

Ah ha!

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June 1, 2021 · 9:09 am

Duncan’s hidden

Go to the temple of the tor now, she commanded again. Would Alysha listen this time? Before, she had teleported directly into the ship, enthralled by its shadow. But maybe she could escape the shadow this time and come into the light. “Jasper,” she spoke. “The turtle’s name is Jasper, not Meanie,” she said later on when the shades were drawn again because of the intense sunlight. Too close to a Star, dancing to the beat of a different drum. “Maybe a Moon this time,” said Dr. Paul Mouse, still with switch in hand, if not a kane. Close enough. And a reddish rear was nearby too, plopped painfully on a central log and not facing away from a wall no longer. He will get his revenge.

Peter Oesso strolled down the beach, looking for shells. Shellman some called him. Then he found a miniature Venus of Willendorf and we were on our way…

—–

“That’s not a beaver down there, Dr. Mouse.” STOP

“Oh yes it is.”

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June 1, 2021 · 6:51 am

Mouse Island, etc.

“Beaver,” decided the littlest mouse perched between Pansy’s ears, noting the flattish tail.

Smoking and toking Lemmy on his back had nothing to say about the matter, facing away. Pansy knew this was an important decision for the future of his franchise — *their* franchise, because he had to keep the creator in the picture for all those photo ops later on. But Dr. Mouse had, how do I put it delicately? Let’s just go with Brain Damage still to seal the deal. Endless triangle, endless loop, the yelloo sun far far away, hidden by night. Jasper knows. Jasper knows this is a beaver. His head is just below the water, right Jasper? Sorry: “Right Jasper?”

“Yeah boy.” Jasper is the littlest mouse between the ears, with the primary speaker being Pansy himself, who combed all through those drone shots the day before and the day before that, looking for any anomalies. They could get no closer.

—–

It was a place of wisdom, of learning, this Amazon or Amazon-like environment. 12 sims total, just like the river tiles of Carcassonne (game).

“The Source is missing,” corrected W, again just over there somewhere, just around the corner or out of sight. I still can’t see her secret, schweet smile. “12th,” she clarifies. “Find the 12th. Or at least have fun doing it. See you later!”

—–

“Yarrow,” spoke wise Dr. Mouse, or so he thinks. “Spirit of Yarrow over the head. Delete it and you’re lost. This island…”

“It’s not an island,” one the “pupils” dare speak up, I think it was the right one.

“You over there!” shouted the obviously mad man now. “Against the wall! It’s the kane for you again, pheh pheh pheh.” Dr. Mouse was panting he was so mad. Both mad *and* mad: both kinds. The worst possible combination. Whack whack whack! came the stick to the pants. The right pupil was obviously wrong. And later he became left behind in 5th as the other pupil or pupils graduated to 6th. It was Paul’s switch all over again.

—–

“So you’re the famous or infamous Dr. Paul Mouse,” spoke Duncan from the opposite stump later on, as if between 2 pupils, 2 ears. “Knew it.”

“Glad you could make it tonight, W.” But her schweet smile still remained hidden since Duncan didn’t have any teeth behind his lips.

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