Tag Archives: Yoko Ona^^++++%$

ungodly

“The spotlight is on you, Yoko Ona. It is your decision where the brain goes next. Does it return to its original owner David A.B., making him *normal* again? Or somewhere different altogether? But (weighted pause): your choice.”

Yoko Ona knew it was no more her choice than anything else ’round these here Heartsdale parts. She’d already been cloned twice! Replacements are standing by, as they say in show business. David A.B. it is.

Now to just find the right time for slicing his head open once more.

—–

She studies his every move during his perpetual interaction with fellow coven member Linda Halsey. He steps into the road right…

… here.

The next day he’s taken to the hospital after being sideswiped by a beat up old station wagon in front of this very same motel. There Yoko makes her move.

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slavery

Yoko Ona had returned from what she’d seen and was determined to walk right between them, the *forgeries*.

“Excuse me lovebirds,” she said, eclipsing both from each other in the moment.

—–

“What’s going on?” she called over to security guard Big Black Smoke, still guarding the Room 03 door as if his life depended on it. “Police tape?” She *knew* this wasn’t here before. She wondered if the authorities had finally been alerted to the body inside. Had maid Hidi come out from hiding with it? Despite the tape she decided to go in. Big Black Smoke, another dummy, didn’t lift a finger to stop her from entering. As long as it’s not Room 03…

—-

Secure in the fact that the body was still within — bridge-like portal exposed behind a wall — Yoko Ona took a relieving pee in the toilet before entering. This witch was not who she appeared to be.

—–

“It’s John,” exclaimed observing Marty over in Urqhart (or Thereabout)’s Collagesity. “It’s got to be!”

—–

Standing on its head, Yoko peered into the first of the other rooms, beyond the original. This was Two beyond One. She didn’t like what she saw.

.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0020, 0114, Heartsdale^^

Heartsdale 04

She stands at a crossroads outside the motel. David A.B. and Linda Halsey are still talking in the lighted patio outside the lobby. They would be doing this as long as the motel itself existed, she realized. She stares toward the mysteriously highlighted red-blue-green gate to the east (sky-sea-land). She’s *been* here before, she realizes while studying it and almost being hit by a right turning, beat up station wagon with Illinois license plates in the process. BDR529. Not quite all the numbers but getting there.

“Where there are churches there must be liquor stores,” she remarks confidently while walking between two. She goes in a direction no Yoko has ever gone before, messing with the patterns.

—–

“So this is what you do all the time, Baker B.?” asked observing Marty at Collagesity’s Blue Feather Table Room.

“Pretty much,” admitted the male baker version to the famous composer/musician variant.

“W-where is she going? She’s just heading off in a random direction.”

“Not random,” spoke Baker Bloch. “Hopefully.”

“What is this place?” Marty further queried.

“Heartsdale. It’s in title.” Baker looked over, confident in his randomness. “She’s been here before,” he added. “Or *I* have.”

“And this has — something to do with John.”

“Absolutely,” I crowed. “Bakersworks,” I said to end.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0020, 0104, Corsica, Heartsdale^^, Urqhart^

Heartsdale 03

She woke up in the middle of the night with a realization. The maid was still trying to move the dead body out of the room to no avail. Perhaps she was attempting to be too quiet about it. I know who the motel receptionist is, Yoko Ona thought while staring up at the ceiling long crack in the ceiling: Cindy A.! This is where I met her and also started interacting with the others of the traitorous A.Team. Todd I believe. And Jim! Who could forget Jim and his maths. Figures began forming in her mind with this. All the numbers again (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0). She decided she needed a middle of the night martini for further pondering. And so as not to disturb the maid and her duties, she tip toed out of the room, silently shutting the door behind her in search of a bar.

To move beyond 02 and especially 03, she knew she’d have to get by the security guard known locally as Big Black Smoke — learned that from the maid. She, in a whisper of a voice, had warned her about the corruption existing at the motel after dusting the bathroom for the 3rd time. 3 again. A.Team with three members. She’s getting closer! She runs smack into Big Black Smoke while spacing out about 3. “Morning misses,” he spoke, not fazed in the least. “Out for your morning walks again?” Plural, she realized. He thinks *I* am 3. And he’d been moved in front of motel door 03 with the collision for further emphasis. Heartsdale was certainly trying to talk to the famous widow of a woman! She walks further into the town proper and its beating Null Heart after affirming Big Black Smoke’s guess.

(to be continued)

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Heartsdale 02

She decides to check into the motel she sits in front of with David and Linda. Why not? Too many mysteries to explore here in one sitting! Multiple me’s, she ponders while waiting for the desk clerk to respond to her presence. She never does, so Yoko Ona pipes up. “Excuse me miss… do you have any rooms available?”

“Rooms? What rooms?” Sarah McDooglehan then shakes her head and looks around the lobby, as if snapping out of a trance (true). “Oh… *these* rooms. Well,” — she puts her finger to her temple instead of checking any list she has, which seems odd. “Two is available. I’ll register it in triplicate. 222, then.”

“I’m *not* paying for three.” But then Yoko Ona reconsiders. *Is* she?

“One it is,” Sarah returned. “Not two, not three. Here’s the key.” She removed it from her pocket and not the wall with the others. Another oddity.

—–

She has to wait for the maid to finish dusting and removing that dead body before she can bring in the rest of her stuff.

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Heartsdale 01

“She finds a heart that is a yoyo in a hotel plaza, Hucka Doobie. Yoko is close to yoyo.”

“Listennn.”

—–

“I’m going to walk right over to that phone and make a call. I can’t find that girl of mine *anywhere* in this confounded town. Alleys go this way, pathways go that way. It’s like a maze!”

Amazing, thought Yoko Ona from the other side. This must be one of John’s friends!

“Oh. You using the booth?” he asked after spotting her.

No, I’ll fix that. She rewinds time.

Zach Black walks up to the phone with Yoko Ona on the other side. He doesn’t spot her, as if she’s invisible. He picks up the receiver. He can’t remember the exact number so he presses in all of ’em, in a row. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 and 0 to end. That should do it, he thinks. It rings on the other side.

“Hello?” Feminine voice, good. No new jack-ass boyfriend to deal with, perhaps.

“Audrey?” he speaks into the receiver with his cool cat voice.

“Yes?” Cool cat back at him.

—–

In another part of town, David A.B. was talking to Linda Halsey about that failed transformation attempt over in Urqhart where she hails from. “Sorry about that,” he says to her in a conciliatory way. “We will try harder next time.”

What about *my* transformation, unobserved Yoko Ona thinks in a neighboring chair.

And then she spots *another* of herself walking against a rock textured wall across the street. How many are there??

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Corsican Collagesity 07

She was walking in circles around the neighborhood. Each time I got close she disappeared around the next corner. But it appeared to be…  me!

I decided to stop chasing and just wait on her. I’d figured out the pattern. I noticed other people were walking around too. But they didn’t catch my eye. Olive-green jacket, grey-black backpack, faded demin jeans.

She ran into me (me again!), and even pushed me back a bit. This was no apparition. Solid! She was taller than me. And — dare I say it — less, um, frumpy. Prettier to put it differently.

I knew she *had* to be indicating something of importance. “Look here!” she said in her repetitive striding. But the block of structures she perpetually strolled around didn’t have much substance to it. I couldn’t even find a place to sit (using remote viewing) to observe her better. So I just stayed on this corner she’d pushed me into; thought about the next move.

—–

It took her about a minute and 15 seconds to complete the circuit.

I had come to Heartsdale to search for more information about John. Instead I found something quite unexpected: that I had already been here, *was* here in a different way. Taller, hmm. Did I mistakenly switch out bodies at some point? But this doppleganger sweeping by me like a second hand on a 5/4th watch was not ensouled. She was just a marker. But  — it — was — *me*. Think, Yoko Ona, think.

—–

“She doesn’t appear to be a bad witch listening in on her thoughts, Hucka Doobie.”

“No, she is truly mystified as to what is happening in this Heartsdale with its Ned and, um (checking), Pop in the Pavilion.”

—–

“Hucka, I think this mystery is bigger than the present novel, or moves beyond it. Better start the next.”

END OF “COLLAGESITY 2020 MIDDLE”; START OF “COLLAGESITY 2020 MORE MIDDLE”!

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Corsican Collagesity 04

And so we end at the Hills of Bill again in the center of Maebaeleia, where an agreement between the World of Lemon and Lime World was forged, thanks to Yoko Ona in large part. She is a witch, true. But, we hope, a white one, working for the forces of good instead of evil. That is really our only hope moving forward. Because if not — we’re *all* screwed.

—–

“The agreement, dear *Lindens*,” she speaks in the yard before the legendary trailer, is that John and I will move forward into a new continent and create a new religion called *Peakology*, beyond the Sinkology that has dominated Our Second Lyfe so far. The first 3 true peaks are the Hills of Bill here: Turtle, Sifton, and then right here, at the highest, the namesake Bill Hill. We go within to sign the contract, to seal the deal. The continent of *Corsica* is born from *Maebaleia*.

“Okay,” Phillip utters.

—–

“Phillip, are you paying attention?”

“I’m paying attention.” He stops attempting to see the shortest of the three Hills of Bill, Turtle Hill (or Butte), from this higher vantage point. About 2 sims east it should be, he estimates correctly. But the blinds block his vision. He is blinded in that direction. But he could have *swore* the agreement was suppose to be signed there, in that more centrally placed position on the continent recently devastated by the 3 1/2 day North-South Civil War. He and Flat Ebbe and Flat Rodvik, Lindens all, are here to put a stop to all that. They were willing to admit failures in the past that caused all the conflict and division. But why the switch of location? It seemed meaningful. He couldn’t get it out of his big fat head. Options, he kept thinking. Options are important.

In truth, everything was still secretly revolving around The Room, even though no one present understood that.

—–

Phillip just blurted it out as Yoko Ona was penciling in some final corrections on the contract at the dining room table. “Why *not* Turtle Hill — or Butte?”

“This is the *highest* of the hills, the *namesake*. We talked about this in the phone call from this morning. You sure you guys don’t want to sit down?”

“They’re fine,” Phillip answers for both once more. “The Flats are only here as witnesses.” In case something goes wrong he says to himself, hoping for the best (again).

She slides the amended paper across to him. He moves his elbows closer to the blue table to study. He’s read it all before, but just wanted to note the changes Yoko Ona mentioned in the call. “Bill Hill,” she insisted in it. “Turtle Hill (or Butte) is *in* the Hills of Bill but not Bill Hill itself. It should be signed there.”

“But Turtle is more central,” he began the counterargument, which continues.

He imagines staring down at a giant lime instead of a contract. Where has he seen this before?

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spine line

Huh. The rooster simply is not rezzing in for me. Just the hens (to my right). Better get over to the Horns of Hatton tonight. Or wherever.

Goodbye Cassandra City. Perhaps not for forever. We’ll see. There’s always “Moby Prick”…

—–

But Horns of Hatton, the actually capital city of the South during the Civil War and more in its center, was also laggy. I decided to reboot my computer and start fresh. I returned to my current home base: the big map of the continent — stood on the Primrose sim with primmy rose still in hand and looked west across YOUR SIMS 01 02 03 04 05 06 07. Mentioned by Sweet Alice last night.

The 4th: Sifton, where I met Your Mama on that hill also straddling Kensington (3rd). Got an earful, a tongue lashing. Remembered, through Cassandra City’s secret resident Tracy Austin, that I had my own pierced tongue. Piercing… pierced. You are what you is.

First some terminology checks. The (Neutral Zone’s) Hills of Bill lie between what, on this big map, I call the Satori Flats to the south and then the similarly termed and constituted Satori Shallows to the north. I realize that this is probably a North-South naming conflict again, like for the continent itself. Southerners preferred Maebaleia, referring more to their famous whale, and then the Northerners favored Satori. Since the North defeated the South in the war (I think), Satori won out. But some stubborn Southerners still refer to it as Maebaleia, and proudly wave their chicken centered battle flags in their yards. Heck, some even drape it over their whole house. But I digress (again)…

—–

I tried to get this straight in my head. I stood on Turtle Hill, the actual one. East was YOUR SIMS (00) 01 02 03.

West: the rest. Turtle Hill, although the most famous (because of the supposed Lemon-Lime treaty signed there, etc.), was actually the shortest of 3 main Hills of Bill. The first actual hill one would encounter while walking west from Primrose, which we’ve accomplished symbolically. Oh there was that somewhat interesting mound just beyond Athlone (in Kensington) where I stood when snapping these 2 earlier shots, the latter while looking west toward where I’m presently positioned. And Athlone is where I entered Real Life Bluefield from this Our Second Lyfe. Think, Marcus. Think! Detective Biff Carter drew his north-south hands together to make a prayer. Church choir saved. Synchronicity! Also with Gunn City, more sadly. And then, and then…

“Hi.” It was Yoko, walking up from behind, surprising me. We exchanged pleasantries — talked about John a bit — then I decided to show her a trick, “Man, that chicken I ate for breakfast just isn’t agreeing with me, BLEH!” *splat*.

—-

I stood alone on the hill after that. Yoko had run away.

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THIS SIM 04 03

“We have brought you here to the Hills of Bill to make contact. Love… war… contact.”

“Wheeler,” I state. “What is it you want from me?”

“To set up The Table again. My Table, yes, but also your Table. In 7 Stones if you wish, yes. That seems to be your wish. No?”

“Collagesity is dead, Wheeler.”

“My Collagesity, yes.”

“But we still have The Table. We still have 7 Stones, the replacement.”

“You know what we need to do: Billfork. Lennon plus Pink Floyd plus Firesign Theatre all in one. A great 3-n-1. But it needs *work*. Yours. But also mine. I will help from the other side end.

—–

“You’re probably wondering what happened to Professor Suckaluck but you’ll have to wait for another night.”

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