Tag Archives: Wheeler Wilson^^~~~~@

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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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0603, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^

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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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0512, Nautilus^^, Slaashsides

loop

From the top it looked like 2 giant, naval style oranges frantically trying to merge. But from the bottom: 2 dancers (with All Orange highlighted), obviously having a good time with their parachutes.

Where did they drop in from?

“Questions,” warned W, still observing from somewhere nearby, perhaps behind that palm tree with the woody woodpecker pecking up the wrong, Yelloo upward.

“More dancers nearby,” spoke observing George now, hidden at the bottom of his small pool. Big George, small pool. A Lake he just proclaimed it ironically enough, but more firmly aligning himself with TILE. MUST STUDY.

“Channeler,” I observed myself. “TILE.”

—–

And now: correct upwards.

“Oh, I know. Blue blue blue!” George cried, knowing we were one short in that category. But which one? Michigan: above and beyond them both. The 26th. Where was this photo-novel, 26 in a series of something, taking us?

I could feel W frowning behind that left-behind tree.

Younger George now: “I always wanted to play this game. Richochet.” He tosses another marble, perhaps a blue.

“This is your time, George. Enjoy the game! Soon you will be 13 again and forget about all this.”

“No I won’t!” he protested to the big eye, and gathered up what he tossed while marking the spot of the furthest marble for future reference.

“We are almost done here, George. It’s time to find your future place in the spheres.”

“I won’t let you down!”

Back down.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0504, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, Rim Isles

Michigan

“We’ll call this Little Lake George. Or Big Lake George — just *Lake George*. I can’t tell if you’re big or small right now.”

“I’m *13*,” spoke the floating boy over to the famous and/or infamous British musician from the 60’s or thereabouts. Our Marty, currently with red hair instead of black.

“So: big. Just Lake George, then.”

“Let’s just go with… Lake,” he measured out intelligently from his reposed position, knowing more than he let on. Aunt Clare had taught him a lot about TILE.

They stayed in their positions for a while, he floating on Lake and Marty dipping his shoed feet in same, testing the water to see if he could safely take his loafers off. George, in fact, was doing the same with his clothes, with his feet already being bare and exposed. They were indeed one here on this OWL island in the Southwest of Nautilus continent, ready to begin their next adventure.

—–

“One Blue Eye gone from OWL, W. We must be in Arkansas.”

“Or Missouri,” she offered.

“But probably Arkansas,” I returned.

“Probably, yeah.”

“Because of the red.”

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monsters

“Tennessee, pheh,” she uttered, staring over at the fake, flat snowy mountains standing in for the real ones just behind. “Come on, George,” she urged to the meditating youth gazing out in the other direction. “Let’s go see what this *Abyss* is all about.” She starts walking toward the stairs, still talking. “Nothing to be afraid of, George. So says TILE.” Was Clare losing her faith? Now that she remembers the whole of the Wheeler existence? Do we even need to be asking this? I believe it is so.

“Come on come on come on.”

“Oh all *right*.” George was enjoying the meditation. He didn’t want to encounter the Abyss just now.

—–

“Well, here we are at the mouth of this thing. You-go-first.”

“Me? But I’m just a kid.”

“You’re no kid. *Go*. Protect me if you must.” She sweeps her hand forward. “Off you go,” she commands again. “Come on come on come on.” This was not like Clare Nova, who was sweeter. This was the orders of Wheeler. Fully clowned now, she needed to find out what she was facing at the end.

—–

“What do you see in there?” called Clare-Wheeler from just outside the mouth now.

“I don’t know,” replied George. “Skulls. Candles. Lots of skulls and candles.”

“That’s the Abyss part,” said Wheeler. “What else is in there? Look in the corners, along the walls. Look *beyond* the normal.”

“There’s nothing *normal* about this place.”

“*Try*,” she urged. “I’ll be right here, ready to help if needed.” She definitely wasn’t going to help. If the power behind the Abyss got George, then another one would fill his spot. Just like she did with Clare. George could die, yes. *Duncan* had already died, maybe several times — hard to keep up. But Baker Bloch will continue on. Along with herself it seems.

“Um. Oh yeah, Mother Mary. I guess that’s good. But then a, let’s see, Medusa Gorgon beside her. Not so good.”

“Great. Keep looking. Maybe something in writing?”

“Well, the Gorgon is holding a, er, book it looks like.” He stands on his tippy toes. “But I can’t see the cover… (strain) to tell what it is.”

“Get that book,” Clare-Wheeler commands. “Just *grab* it from her.”

Dare he?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0502, Purden/Snowlands^, Sansara^^

Abyss, The

“A boy 13 to 10 and back to 13 and over and over. Obviously this is TILE, W.”

“(Small) ‘e’ to (large) ‘E’,” she agreed. “5 to 8, gaining 3. Years in this case.”

“Yellow to blue.” He looked out at the sky, the suns rising over the horizon. Horizings.

“But what of the step-down?” she continued in this vein. “The 12, then the 11, back to 10 and then back to 13, over and over?”

“Children according to the TILE documents and creeds. Red and green. Gred. Or Reen.”

“Redgreen. I remember that place. A place of war.”

“7 and 6. Mixed up. Which is higher, which is lower? Confusion in the middle. And by extension…”

“At both ends. Hi becomes lo. Hilo.”

“But one thing we agreed,” he offered as a compromise. “The Abyss plays no role in the end game. Because the Abyss has no real power. Only illusion.”

“Like static.” She squelched the urge to tack on the state names of Tennessee and Kentucky to this. It would all play out.


Tennessee. And Kentucky.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0501, Purden/Snowlands^, Sansara^^

serendipity

“I call this my pagan grotto. As far away from Christ on the other side of the property as you can get.”

“Houses?” young George guessed. Clare didn’t answer, turning more into Wheeler each passing moment.

—–

“It was the time for exchanging bodies to keep the enemy confused. Enem*ies*. Us Supernovas had to stick together. But then…”

“You were killed,” George said, following up on what was revealed just 15 minutes back in the conversation they were having in the “pagan grotto.”

“Well, the *character* was killed off, yes, or in danger of being so. The actor playing the role decided not to renew the contract. I was the understudy. I stepped in. Fortunately I grew into the part and no other, more established actor was sought for after a while. Stacey stood up for me and that was a big boost.”

“Summerhill… Nova?”

“Yes, my sister. In the role of course. I don’t have a sister in real life. Just Duncan.”

“How…did you become estranged? Is that the word I need to use?”

“Not quite estranged. Obviously he has a different body than he did before.” Pause. It was difficult for Clare Nova to explain to George the constant switching of bodies. Must be in the 1000’s now. “Let’s begin at the beginning,” she decided. “1st there was Baker Blinker, then Baker Bloch, then…” Another pause. “No, let’s start instead with me.” She remembers it all now, memories locked into place. “Wheeler. I took over. All except… for Baker Bloch, the 2nd who then became the first as Baker Blinker, the anima to his animus, faded faded faded away, Karoz along with her.”

“Who’s this Karoz?” young George questioned again, not having heard that name enter the story yet.

“A green being. Blue-green actually. Baker Blinker and he were married. I’m trying not to pause so much, George,” Clare-Wheeler admitted. “We’re getting close to the end; must hurry.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I won’t ask so many stupid questions, pheh.”

“Not stupid, George. It’s just…” Pause.

“There you go again!” he pointed out.

—–

“Almost 5 years,” she closed the story for George 15 more minutes later. 5 years, she reflected. Time to end it? She looked over at the vast snowy expanse to the south of them, the distant white mountains. She could just walk walk walk until the cold took her in. Purification; cleanliness. She would be free, then. Just like Baker Blinker before her. Let another take over. She then looked down at her clown clothes and realized she was stuck. Oh Baker Bloch, she thought, seeing the man behind the man behind the child.

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backwards

I wish I could say Jerry Lind found the Fortress but I’m not sure. A word of the day but perhaps not this particular day in the late of May. I wish I could say the 27th so I did. Jerry Lind was 2 years old, yet a striking young man with Asian Indian features and with red complexion like an American kind. It’s like he entered The Sphere at New Delhi or thereabouts with its American Indian street names and profuse graffiti and collapsing black hole style garages and then couldn’t find his way back out. It’s that way with the Fortress as well: one door in, no exit. You were one with God. Happy birthday, 2!

—–

“It’s like I couldn’t touch him, he was so damaged with the rain pouring into his head like an inverted sky. He had the circular umbrella unfolded wide, yet the water came and came, shower ON.”

“I’m sorry, W,” I responded. “I know that must have been hard.”

“You don’t know the 1/2 of it. The *1/2* of the 1/2.”

“That must have been 1/4th as hard as I can possibly imagine, then.”

“You said it! Wait, what?”

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holey man

“Brain Damage he had.”

“We’ve already determined that, okay,” she replied, planning her escape route. Starbucks should be open by now — 5:00. But Baker is trying so hard to understand. The 2 is impossibly in front of the boy-man, right where the brain was…

“Have him interact with someone in this specific location, so close to Collagesity. Alysha, perhaps. She hadn’t been in a post in a while.”

“Only if,” she compromised, “Kolya goes back to the airport and finds out more about the red book and the accompanying red light.”

“Deal.” He spits in his hand, which she naturally doesn’t shake. Such a goofy person (!).

—–

“See there? Mysten Underhill and Mysten, let’s see, can’t recall the other one. Anyway, those *2* squares, just there. Down toward the lower right corner; right in front of you, in fact. Do you see the houses? Of course you do. I rented one of those, or attempted to. And *Spongeberg*, yes, was there. I recall the number… 144. Table. We tried to set a table up. Didn’t quite work.

Alysha let Kolya ramble on. He was a true friend and would do anything for her. He was attempting to explain the past of Mysten not far atall north of Collagesity through this old sim map they’d stumbled upon. He’d been here a long time. But so had she, just not as long.

“We owned just to the east,” he continued, remembering more and more about “2”. “But not in Siliconicus: that would be *southeast*. But the *Church* of the Silicon Soul was set up right on the border again. Right beside our own property.”

“The Table House.”

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “That was what it was called (!).” He paused, joyful in the memory. He could see vague faces around it.

—–

They had to go back in the past. And they could (!). Except only the darker side, the place of fumbles and bumbles. Spongeberg the Destroyer was still here, still lived in the general Collagesity area, but just more down in the east, beside Highway 14. He’d given up on 13 — moved on. The darkness beckoned. Christ and accompanying Christianity was not around to brighten the day any longer.


Mysten Underhill, 2015

—–

They both took another big lick of their triple scoop sorbet cones before continuing.

“Funny about places like this, Ayesha,” Kolya then said with cold mouth.

Alysha, she thought without correcting aloud, use to such things.

“Like they are stuck in time. Harder… more resistant to the general erosion… um.”

“… of Our Second Lyfe,” she finished for him.

“The 2, yeah.”

She looked at the top of his holey head, where the rain gets in. Simultaneously he recalls someone at the Table, as if they are linked by one user (they were). But he passes over the memory of Marty as if it were a letter gap. On to the next thought-color, green I believe.

Kolya realizes that was a lot of ice cream for a little girl. Because he could definitely finish it for her. “Are you done with that?” he couldn’t help asking while staring at the stack of mostly unlicked colorful balls in the cone in her hand. He was eager for more brain freeze.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0205, collages 2d, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, Omega^^, Wallytown/Fishers Island^

3 cores and a dummy

The train was 2 full and so that’s how they all met. Jerry, also named Harry; the nice Indian man Hidi the hamburger woman started to date afterwards — the proximity was just too close in there; and lastly but not leastly, Kolya, the damaged one. All we needed was Alysha to walk in and take a seat opposite them, but that was for later. In the here and now, we have the 7 merging into the 6, secret smile discretely packed away like a traveling trunk for boys.

“I knew he was damaged and we shouldn’t touch so I turned the other way.”

“Toward… Jerry,” I guessed. I figured the red complexioned Indian dude might be named Jerry as well. Jerry Lind perhaps, compliment to Jenny.

W thought back to that important time and place. They were traveling at a breath-taking speed, destination unknown, perhaps to New Delhi and Delhi and thereabouts again but maybe not. The white tiles flew by outside, almost at a blur’s pace; opposite of turtle or snail. We were in Wallytown I knew that. W didn’t seem to be able to really leave, now she’d met Jerry Lind (we’ll keep calling him). Giant for a day and maybe giant forever. If Wallytown had its way.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0202, Omega^^, Wallytown/Fishers Island^