Baker Bloch marveled at the constantly changing furniture in a VHC City store called Prim Possible.
Wheeler mulled over multiple realities surrounding the death of Allen Martin while sipping expresso at News and Views across from the famous hotel.
Snowmanster kept spinning around and around in his CB Dylan Dresser at Bemberg Towers Apt. #6, unable to enter this dimension.
Across the tracks in a tiny two story house, a fly got stuck in Pitch Darkly’s wine red nightcap.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0301, Heterocera, VHC City
“No Woody, you cannot be a Musician in this story as well. Now put that away and get ready. It’s time.”
“Hello my love,” Old Man Allen Martin said. “For the last time.”
Wheeler could not help. She just had to watch. And, yeah, it was painful. Very painful.
Then it was done. Correct reality locked in.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0218, Heterocera, VHC City
“No crossing this lake, my love. Good fishing, though. Probably worth the risk.”
“Perch?” Wheeler logically guessed.
“Yeah,” admitted Chuckles Greentop. “But fighters here. Tough because of the gators. I think that movable, more realistic looking one is a croc, actually, despite the description. I decided a while back to name it Dundee, after the movie.” She calls over to it. “How’re you hang’in today Dundee? Alli G. treating you right still?” She then whispers over to Wheeler. “They’re lovers, you know. Different species by my reckoning, but still do’in the nasty. And I want to be first in line for one of those impossible crocogator babies. I’ll put it in one of my outer pools.”
Wheeler glanced over her shoulder. “How’s your face holding up?”
“Fine. Close enough to a clown’s face to work. Better, maybe, because it’s more confusing. ‘What is you?’ they may be uttering, haha. Thank you for that. How ’bout yours?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“I told you, that’s the trick, my fiend friend. You *come* already as a clown. That way you won’t *turn* into a clown. You’ll learn the tricks here. We can fish together sometimes in this remote pool, then. But no further in this direction. That pool and attached monsters are there for a reason. I’ve seen them on the other side. This is where we communicate. Maybe today will be one of those days.”
Wheeler starts to shiver. Chuckles notices.
“Don’t be afraid, love. They’re as scared of those crocogator thingies as we are. This is the Pool of Coahoma, the separation of the barely living from the completely dead. Once you cross that pool or even attempt to, there’s no turning back. You’re one of them.”
Trouble was, Wheeler thinks she’s already been beyond. And then she gets instant verification.
“Welcome back Wheeler,” says a smiling Woody Woodmanson, appearing from around the bend.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0217, Heterocera, VHC City
It was somewhat before sunrise when Allen Martin began writing to his deceased wife Carol again.
Dearest Muffin,
I hope you had a peaceful night. Me… not so good. I have some news for you. I don’t want to hide anything. You know my devotion to you my sweetest will never be over. Marriage is not, until death do you part. It is forever in another, special way. Yet, things do happen in physical life. Time moves forward. I’ve met someone else. I don’t know if it will work out but I just wanted to be straighforward and honest with you. This is not a usurpal of our love. Not atall. It is a continuation in a strange way.
He paused; peered over at his now ordinary looking son Doogie snoozing away after another tough night of transmogrified grilling on the part of possessor Petty. Victim this time: Allen Martin’s landlord Summerhill Nova. Emerald tablets? What’s that mad inspector on about now?? He returned to his scribing.
I know my feelings are real in this case, but we are the rock, the foundation. This is just a new branch sprouting on an old, old tree.
He paused again as Doogie let out a loud snort.
I want to reassure you our son is fine. Do not hate me for what I, we, did. The gas station was about to be repossessed. I had to provide for Doogie. Irony, eh? Possession for possession. I hope and pray it will be over soon. But Petty is going off onto so many tangents. How about the actual *killing*, sir. Address that for a change.
He put his pen down on the desk. It was no good today. A proper letter to his wife would have to wait. He sat up on its top, looking east this time instead of west.
Wheeler. What demon are you as well?
She also snorts.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0214, Heterocera, VHC City
Wheeler heard the entrance bell jingle again. “Alright, I’ll be right there,” she said while trying to concentrate on making a key for Mrs. Cooper in Bemberg Apt. 11. She swears under her breath again. Twelve customers in 4 hours! And most wanting back orders. I should have thought more about buying this cursed little shop from Greentop before following through. The offer seemed so attractive at the time. I believe I’ve been tricked!
Wheeler turns to face the newest customer. Great, she thinks, another vampire. That’ll make almost half my customers so far. And this one looks worst of all. But then he said something Wheeler didn’t expect.
“What do you think, huh?”
She recognized the voice. “Baker?”
“Of course. It’s my new night time outfit so I can blend in here better. Vampires won’t attack another vampire.”
Wheeler adjusts her glasses. “They might want to be *friends*, though. Compare blood baths.”
“So…?” He extends his arms and turns side to side.
“It looks ridiculous, Baker Bloch,” Wheeler spoke honestly. “Besides, the streets are pretty safe here. If you haven’t noticed, there’s strong management in Bemberg at least. And probably in the other sim we won’t say the name of yet.”
“Working on it,” Baker spoke back. “Gonna spend some more time with the Oracle tomorrow on the problem. That and others.”
“Well, you did a good job linking Wegee with Key in this particular spot — that started the storyline flowing better. And then follow it up with OD. Speaking of which, talked to Greentop again yesterday. Did a tour of local fishing holes.”
“Oh? How’d that go? I see your clown face has cleared up. Visiting the country must have been good for you.”
“It was! But I need to get back to key making if you don’t have any other business here.”
“Guess not.”
“Go back out into the night,” she commanded playfully. “Attack those cats, those rats. Drink your needed sustenance. Then go back to your dark dank basement apartment and prepare for daylight. You do have a coffin? Because no one will believe you’re a vampire if not.”
“I thought you were suppose to hide your coffins — underground or in the attic or something.”
“I don’t know. You better study up on vampiring more if you’re going to disguise yourself as one. I’d ditch the whole concept if I were you. And: hope that was a freebie outfit.”
“It was the most expensive (vampire) one I bought,” Baker admitted. “57 lindens.”
“Well,” Wheeler breathes out. “I guess we’re both stuck with lemons. Mine a little more expensive than yours, but, there you are. Trying to adjust to a new town is painful.”
“I feel ya.” The thought crossed Baker’s mind just to pack it up and go back home. A small vampire said, “excuse me,” in a meek voice behind him, wanting to make his way into the shop to place an order.
“Town’s full of doors, Baker Bloch. I’ll give it that. If I wanted to stay busy, this is the place to be.” At least she’d hardly thought of Musician or Allen today. But a decision loomed. Above or below? Or… just leave altogether. She waved Baker goodbye as the littler bloodsucker pushed around him.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0212, Heterocera, Key Shop, VHC City
“Back already eh? Been clowned, huh?”
“It’s going away,” Wheeler clarified to Chuckles Greentop. “Somewhat.”
“You learned to keep your mouth shut about the Underworld, hehe.”
“Suppose so.”
“You want (more) information.”
“Yes. Are you OD?”
Greentop answered Wheeler’s question with an invitation. “Walk with me down the tracks and I’ll speak what I know. You understand there are ears here and ears are in hears. Petty looms; Doogie Martin will not fully return for a while, perhaps a long while. But first: walk. I want to show you some other fishing holes. I want to encourage you to take up angling as much as I can.”
—–
“See, I’ve already got one,” Chuckles happily exclaimed at the next fishing hole, about 200 meters south of the first.”
“Must admit it’s pretty. And relaxing!”
“And no ears to hears. 10 minutes more here and I’ll show you the next.”
Wheeler was in no hurry. “Take your time. I’m good.”
—–
“Just wanted to show you this upper pool to the same flow. Right under the railroad. I’ve found that maggots work best here. Different bait for different pools, see. It’s an art and a science both. Little of both. I call it Phenix Pool because it sometimes dries up completely but then comes back after a rain.”
“Makes sense I guess,” agrees Wheeler.
—–
They move about 150 meters south of that, still just off the railroad tracks.
“Check *this* out. Beautiful, no?”
“‘Tis nice,” coos Wheeler.
“And your clown face is about gone already. Let me take a look.”
“Yes, much better. One more watering hole should do it. But first — another upper pool.”
—–
“You just relax back there Wheeler. I’m reeling them in from the other side. Reeling reeling reeling. Wee!”
—–
“This is as far south as I usually go,” explains Chuckles Greentop, still reeling them in. “Linden land between the two tracks, see; worms work best here. Bigger perch, but fewer and further apart.”
“So it’s about all perch you catch. In any of the pools we visited.”
“Perch is the name of the game, yeah. Good eating too if you’re into that kind of thing. I’m a strict vegetarian myself.”
“Interesting.”
“And… your nose is back to normal. Good as new.” Chuckles pauses. “Sure you want to go back into that place? You could just keep running south. Run run run, all the way back to Collagesity. That’s where you have control.”
“I know.”
“Why go back?”
“Musician,” Wheeler says plainly. “And now… Allen. Above ground for the first, below for the latter.”
“So you’ll have to choose in that way as well.”
“Suppose. I can’t give up either right now.”
“I want to plant a name in your brain, then. Keep a lookout for it.” Chuckles stopped here and cast her rod again into deeper water. She looked up in the sky, gauging the sun’s progression as it sank to the west. “Nightfall in about 1 hour. You either go back now or keep running.”
“You said you had a name to give me,” Wheeler urged.
“Oh right.” But then Chuckles looked up into the sky and forgot what she promised again.
“Are you okay?” Wheeler took a closer look. “Oh dear. Transference.”
Wheeler would have to find her own way again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0210, Heterocera, VHC City
In his newly rented, creepy basement apartment, Baker Bloch rezzed the entire “Wall of Ass.” created a number of years back now for the Biggie Gallery in Sunklands, only to delete most of it in favor of Salvador Dali’s last painting, “(The) Swallow’s Tail”. Seemed appropriate.
A knock at the door, then. Strange, Baker Bloch thought. No one knows I’m here yet except the landlord. Should I even answer it? It’s the dead of night. Vampires most likely. Fresh blood smelled. The knocks resumed, then a voice. “Baker, it’s me. Martin. Allen Martin. And Wheeler.”
—–
“Nice hat, Martin,” Baker Bloch spoke.
“It’s Allen, actually. Martin is a last name.”
“Oh right. Like the bird.”
“I suppose. Have we even met? I know your sister Baker Blinker, of course. She was my landlord over in Collagesity North.”
Baker Bloch ignored the sister misnomer re Baker Blinker. “I don’t think we have. But there’s a lot of characters in the Collagesity stories now. Perhaps our paths have crossed already and we’ve forgotten. Yes — come to think of it, I believe I saw you eating alone in Perch one night.”
“I did that sometimes, yeah.”
“I understand you have a son.”
“Doogie, yeah.”
“Something has happened to him?” He looks over to Wheeler for help. “See, I was over at your apartment just last night, Martin, er, Allen. Sorry. I was called over there by Petty.”
“I see,” states Allen Martin, repositioning himself in his chair. “How’s the investigation going?”
“Queerly,” answers Baker. “Odd accusations being tossed about. Stuff that doesn’t seem possible.”
“Like what?” Wheeler remained queerly silent. Then she was gone. Baker Bloch turned to Allen Martin, who just shrugged.
“She’ll get back here,” he said. “Go ahead… continue.”
As Baker spoke, the rest of the “Wall of Ass.” disappeared behind him, leaving Dali’s paintings alone in the apartment.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0208, Heterocera, VHC City
They’ve found the secret rooms.
Clown Central.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0207, Heterocera, VHC City
“Ahhh! That face!!”
“We app-re-ci-ate your time in our fair ci-ty,” OD continued in its clipped manner, suddenly detached from the wall and looming larger. The wegee planchette had stopped spinning. “We have ass-im-il-at-ed the bird, zip, the man known as Mar-tin. Sanc-tu-ar-y is with-in reach. You can go ab-out, ping, a-bout your way. Thank you for vis-it-ing and come back again ver-y, zip, fair-ly soon.”
The Musician fled the scene, running upstairs. Wheeler stood her ground. She pulled out a large, futuristic gun from her coat. “Get back on the wall, buster. We’re not finished here.”
—–
Meanwhile… Allen Martin appeared to be dead at the very same spot Renaldo O’Donnell lay early.
But then he stood up. “Just a pose ball,” he muttered. “No murder atall. And my son… all that change and attached grief for nothing, it seems.”
He moves around the corner to the next area, being careful to head *away* from his apartment (unlike Wheeler earlier). A break room?
Maybe the stupid people responsible for this charade. The thought crossed his mind that VHC City is just a giant stage set for some kind of film being made. Horror story?
He then sees something more interesting appearing in the next area: a purple spheriod thingie. No: green; no: blue. He checks the description of the now golden object. Jeez God, he thinks, an “alien egg tree.” This *is* a horror story.
He walks between pipe and chair to take a closer look.
Nothing else really that odd about it except the name. And a dead end in this direction. He’d have to retrace his steps.
But then, a monster bursts forth through the wall in front of him, turns around, then leaves through same. A giant crocodile, it appears!
He may have to go back to the apartment to get his heart medicine before advancing further.
—–
Allen Martin then heard a female voice call his name from the direction of the “break room.” Wheeler.
They met in front of this gate on the far side of the room, the Fate Gate they would later call it. From this point on they would move forward together. Holding hands again, they passed through.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0204, Heterocera, VHC City
Sunklands 