Tag Archives: Woody Woodmanson

Outlier

Seeing the front porch of Woody’s house appear to the right from behind some raised, pointed green terrain, The Musician decides to jump down from the blue path and head toward it. Keeping straight would quickly lead to the sky islands. He didn’t need to go there quite yet.

The front door of the house is open. Figures appear in the far corner of the single room floor, all gathered around a circular, white topped table. Seemingly not yet noticed, The Musician listens in on the conversation in progress.

“Well, Osborne, in the late 1970s McKay told John Conway, the inventor of the Game of Life, you know, that the coefficient of 196884 was precisely one more than the degree of the smallest faithful complex representation of the monster group. Conway replied that this was Jack Daniels style moonshine, in the sense of being totally wacko nuts.”

Woody stops speaking and turns toward the door. “Oh, howdy Musician! Welcome to physics night at Woody’s Outpost. I hope you like vertex operator algebra.”

“I’m not sure,” is all he could manage, then, looking to the left, added, “I like your tree,” to be more cordial.

“Thank you,” replies the wooden toy-man. “It was a house warming gift from a dear dear friend who still lives over in the quarantined section of Bennington. Sector R I believe they call it nowadays, don’t they Osborne?”

Osborne doesn’t answer, but just appears to keep reading his book with the queerly tentacled creature adorning the ancient cover. Another monster.

“Well, anyway, come on in,” Woody says. “Just pass through the twirly whirly Jaspery thing so we can check out your core being. Then you can join us here at the table. Just a simple test, you understand. We need to know who you really are, deep down. The area around The Table must remain sanctified, right Osborne?”

The Musician began to panic. Who *was* he deep down? He’d figured something out at LEA11 about his true self but then quickly forgot. What if he simply *vaporized* — had no inner core.

“Oh don’t fret,” Woody reassures, seeing the worry on his face. “Everyone has a core, Musician, whether they know it or not. Here, I’ll go first and show you. That’s only fair. Osborne just remains Osborne. Pretty boring.”

Woody gets up and moves into the center of the swirl. He quickly contracts into a sort of meatball, then reconstitutes. Woody’s core.

Then he contracts and expands again to return to his wooden toy self.

“See? Nothing to it. Now your turn.” Woody steps back toward The Table.

The Musician saw no way out. He entered the swirl.

“There,” comforts Woody. “That wasn’t so bad.” He turns to Osborne. “Look, Osborne. A ghost. The Musician is a tall ghost at the core. Cool, eh?” Osborne keeps reading. “Let’s check the name out. Ohh, a Jupiter, eh? I knew some Jupiters over in Farmington. You’re not related to Jeb and Stewart by chance?”

The Musician shakes his head. “How do I get back?” he asks. Would he have to stay this way *forever*?

“Takes a little longer for first timers,” Woody explains. “Just give it a moment. Try not to move too much.”

And then The Musician was back. Woody pulls a chair out at The Table and offers him a seat. “You can sit beside me. We have much to talk about. We need to get you reunited with Wheeler and heading to VHC City pronto. Bad juju going on there. We can use the key shop as a teleport device of course. I know you’re familiar with it.”

Ah, The Musician thought. So Wheeler was right all along.

—–


10:15PM: Heading back.

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Filed under Muff-Bermingham, Second Life, Uncategorized

Close

Woody Woodmanson divined their presence long before he saw The Musician, Colon and Morris walking toward him on the wood plank path above the high waterfalls. His key told him.

“Not too much longer, Lou,” he said to his friend and landlord, seated on the opposite side of the counter. “They’re preparing for the journey in their village.”

“Remember to *emphasize* that village whenever you see an opening,” she says. “We want Sikul to stay in his old house. He must become a team with Colon Hiss. Scotty is mine now.”

“Magenta Islands,” Woody blurted out. He’d been trying to guess the location of the lost portal since he learned about the fabled opening several days ago. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Pretty sure of that.”

But Lou knew Woody was wrong. Morris didn’t think she remembered the Jagged Sea and MOA. She had information he didn’t. And she planned to keep it that way.

“Any hour now,” Woody said, still divining.

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OPD

“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.

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Filed under Heterocera, Second Life, Uncategorized, VHC City

Still The Key

“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.

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Filed under Heterocera, Second Life, Uncategorized, VHC City

Resolution 02

“We are at Purden Center, Snowmanster. But where are Core and Alena?”

“Yeah, right, I forgot about that too,” Snowmanster acknowledges. “I’ll have to leave you once more, just for a moment.” He puts his hand on the wooden man’s shoulder. “Woody, you’ve been a fantastical friend down through the years for me. You’ve endured great hardships and still have managed to make a place for yourself in this world. I am here to help now. Wheeler and I. And the children who aren’t children, now rescued from being X-ed out. We’re all in this together. You can ask your questions.” On the spot, Snowmanster changes into Core-Alena.

“Kneel down, Woody,” Core-Alena requests. “So I can speak with you… fellow wooden being. Here, let me turn just a little to the right so you can see me better. And I, you.”

Woody kneels. “Snowmanster? Is that you in there?”

“Yes. This is a core being as well but more than myself. *All* of us. Everyone in the Snowlands. Rich and poor. Good and evil. Male and female. We are them. They are us. As Snowmanster, I just had to commit to being here. With you and the others.” Owlie the 3rd eyed owl sitting on one of their branches hoots in agreement.

“So is this… the end?”

“Yes,” states Core-Alena. “We will go forward, obviously, but in a different setting, a different light. Mid-Hazel and her entrapping X’s, etc., have been defeated. We are one.

Woody gets on the ground and stares directly into the male-female eyes. He asks the final question. “Am I in there too?”

“Woody,” Core-Alena playfully smirks. “You are the key!”

END OF “COLLAGESITY 2016-2017 WINTER”.

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Filed under Sansara, Second Life, Uncategorized

Resolution 01

From a frozen pond in Virrat, Baker Bloch admires the vast expanse of Poorvoo’s North Pole. But he doesn’t have time right now to revisit that place. He must get to Woody’s before the toy avatar awakes and spring the surprise.

—–

“Well?” he says while showing Woody the interior view. “What do you think?” He knew he’d be pleased.

“Fantastical,” Woody replies. “But who are you?”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to change.”

“Snowmanster!” Woody cried. “So you have a secret identity.”

“Not secret,” admitted Baker Bloch/Snowmanster. “Core,” he explained. “That is (more) my real self.”

“What *is* you?”

“My father was a superhero and then a talk show host. My mother was, well… diffcult to explain.” He obviously thought of Wheeler’s recent appearances as Old Grey.

“Well I never,” exclaimed Woody. “Do *I* have a secret identity? A *core*?”

“Maybe,” says Snowmanster. “Why don’t we try to ask the *tree* this morning. I have a hunch they might be free to speak now.”

“Core-Alena?” asks Woody. He stares out the window toward the center of the woods.

“Of course.”

“But a spell was put on them.”

“I think Mid Hazel’s control is breaking down, Woody, thanks to Wheeler. She’s up next to Livigno now. She’s adopted two children who aren’t children at all but soon-to-be lovers. They will look into the room. They will free us.”

“Fantastical,” Woody repeats. “Let’s go see the tree.”

“Bert’s not invited.” Snowmanster and Woody share a laugh with that.

—–


Walking toward Purden Center from Snowmanster’s new home next to Woody’s.

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Filed under Sansara, Second Life

Twinning

“You’ve gone a bit queer haven’t you Woody? Maybe you should lay off the smokes. Just until you stop doing things like talking to Bert over there. Your man mannekin, hehe.”

“I love him,” Woody states frankly. “My key loves him too.”

“Well that’s good Woody.” Snowmanster uncrosses his legs. “So tell me about *these* guys.”

—–

It was always going to be this way, Wheeler realizes. This path…

… this village.

Not lacking for energy, she begins the steep ascent.

—–

“This should work. Right Uncle Jack?”

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