Those damn spots again!
prisoner of the moment
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Black people. Just like me. But then: “Whiteyes”. Ice Cream Eyes?
She looks at the watch that she’s not wearing. Time to meet Grassy over at the Blue Feather Table Room.
Hucka Doobie kept staring at the map and adding information. “Karon above Lapara, Grassy. And Cadiz is nearby too.”
“A ‘Z’ is kind of an ‘N’ turned on its side,” offered his old friend sitting beside him. His old *nemesis*. But that was long, long ago and far, far away. In a different universe, really.
“You’re right Grassy Noll!” He rotates it in his mind. “Karoz’s ‘N’ must have been turned into a ‘Z’. It’s not lost, merely sideways!”
“Visa versa,” Grassy repeated. “Reverse the ‘N’ with the ‘Z’.”
Then tigers showed up at the Red Umbrella…
… or prisoners.
Center of Lapara, Hidi thought after teleporting in.
Karon must be…up there?
But Wheeler said she didn’t find anything here in a scan last night. Only the hq for the whole town seemed promising for more storytelling. So…
She lays on the Some Bunny Loves You Beanbag and thinks of Sozzy Bozo and how he screwed things up oh so royally with Cher and Chan and how he’s paying for it now in the afterlife. Clowned he was. Just like I should be. Didn’t Baker Blinker recently say she wanted to be a clown, a short, dumpy one? Maybe that’s the bill. Not ordinary. Not Smoky Ordinary. The Dump. And, add to that: Gassy.
“Mossms,” Wheeler Wilson replied. “They’re adorable. And I think they might grow larger. I have some furniture for them if they do. Right now they’re limited to the toys.”
“And how many prims is all this costing Collagesity?”
“First off, you just deleted the Julia House from Artist Alley. 51 prims saved there.”
“How much?” Baker Bloch insisted.
“Not too much. 8 apiece for the creatures — Kacey and Kuddles I believe — and then 10 for the toys, which includes a play box, a small computer and a bottle of some sort they like to get stuck in. It’s *Mossms* for Christ sake: free. I *had* to buy them. And I seem to be the one running around looking for new sets these days. Like Lapara — even though I didn’t find anything there.”
“Alright,” acquiesced the male Baker, co-ruler of Collagesity along with Wheeler. Baker Blinker remains in the background. “But keep them confined to the pond.”
“They’ll live at the pond,” agreed Wheeler, who already had more plans for future buys. A whole fairy village she is planning. A sity within a sity. Might be cool.
“Alright who are you?”
“It all seems to be focusing on Heterocera, Baker Bloch. Me in the swamp lands — I would *prefer * to live here in Collagesity, but it is what it is. Then Wheeler’s own explorations.”
“She’s found a gym.”
“Gem of a gym,” replies Roger Pine Ridge, puffing on a Chesterfield tonight. The rainbow brings confusion but white light heals. White stick light. “That might keep her busy for a while.”
“Then Grassy… what’s the report on him?”
“Good and decent fellow, obviously. We’ll (re)visit Iris soon.”
“The Moth Temple Village. Good. Which you live on the very outskirts of anyway.”
“He’s still looking for the reds and yellows. Probably to shoot or kill them.”
“Wheeler can help in that way,” Baker then says. “And his cousin?”
“He hasn’t spoken of Opp since my move. He goes on and on about the TILE river or creek or whatever it is. Jonesborough Compound: he says that’s where it all started. Cave of the Alphabet. The eternal search for AlmaNoz.”
“Good topic,” replies Baker. “Karoz: Did he find his ‘N’ yet?”
But Roger Pine Ridge didn’t know neither. Better bring in another.
“Karoz… we’re just reviewing what’s going on in the novel so far. How’s Dennis? Is that where you still are? Lemme check.”
“Why don’t you put up a meaningful picture on your media feed here. For the blog.”
“Dennis.” Pause. “Where I’m not.”
“Well maybe we should go there to meet instead.”
Karoz Blogger looked around. “Where’s Wheeler tonight? This isn’t an official Table meeting without Wheeler.”
“She found a gym,” Baker Bloch explained again to a second core avatar tonight.
“Guess Tropp or Opp is with her, then.”
“Well… good.” Karoz looks down at his hands, then back up. “It failed of course. The assimilation. Baker Blinker has gone back to Chilbo. I suppose I’ll have to follow.”
“Well… for one shining moment…”
“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted the cyan being, half moss as we know now. The other half remains hidden in mist still. Baker then had an idea.
“How’s Misty doing?”
“He didn’t know who Misty was, Hucka Doobie. I tried.”
“You think that’s his *mother*?”
“Let’s review what we know, Hucka Doobie. We know that everything seems to be focusing on Heterocera, which is now equated with a big hand.”
“An *upside-down* hand,” Hucka Doobie clarified. “The Hand of Opp.”
“Right. There’s now a Heart Line to go along with the Head Line, which I didn’t know was a Head Line until I found the Heart.”
“Art’s on the Heart.”
“Right. Former neighbor. Like Veyot. On the edge. Just digging the Collagesity vibe.”
“It does have a good vibe,” articulated Hucka Doobie. “But now it only has the woods. Art will be the last neighbor you will have in Our Second Lyfe. Unless you count Ruby Heartbright.”
“I’m checking now, Hucka Doobie.” Pause of about 30 seconds while Baker Bloch remotely scans the borders of Collagesity. “Yes, I see she is the only landowner whose property borders Collagesity. But: no relation to the Rubi Woods to the west?”
“There has to be,” Hucka Doobie says without hesitation. “You know this person after all.”
“Met her once. She’s owned land around the woods before. Just like me. I can’t remember specifics.”
Hucka Doobie thinks that Baker Bloch should write down information like this but doesn’t say it aloud. “And fair Ruby herself? Haven’t seen her around since I rode back into town on a horse with no name.”
“We’re talking about my character, also named Ruby,” Baker clarifies more for the reader. “She seems to have taken the lead female role from everyone else except for Wheeler. But of course now we know Ruby *is* Wheeler. Because of all the splits she’s effected.”
“Ruby Fantasie most recently. You should follow what’s she’s up to in Rosehaven. Shaking things up, I bet.”
“Three ‘Rubys’, then. The neighbor, the woods, the… can we call her queen? Is Wheeler still queen? Heck we better bring her in. Thanks for stopping by, Hucka.”
“Back to the Red Umbrella for me. I found a way into Stonethwaite.”
“But a topic for another night.”
“So long, then.”
“Put up the Aotearoa picture on the interwebs, Baker Bloch. I can’t seem to work the darn thing again tonight.”
“I’ll make a quick post with the 2 pictures.” Pause of about 2 minutes while Baker sets up the post. He displays it…
“Top hit for an image search ‘N to Z’, Wheeler Wilson. Transparent images, that is.”
“Which you like to do now as I understand.”
“This is AlmaNoz related. Jeogeorock related. Whitehead Crossing. Spill what you know.”
“I’m not really the person (core avatar) for that. Spongeberg,” Wheeler declared. “Spongeberg’s the one. He lives there after all.”
“I forgot. In the teepee.” He removes his finger from his lip. “Well, we might have time to bring him in after this. Friday night after all. A little more time; a little less pressure to get up.”
“During the day, you have to figure out something else to do. I’m *enjoying* the day. But… this can’t keep up.” Wheeler looks at him directly. “Thank you, though, for allowing me time to find my gym. That was helpful. Tropp is thankful too. We are not evil.”
“I know that.”
“We are another aspect of Heterocera now, part of its continuing storylines. Three ‘Rubys’. Collagesity moves onward and upward within that triangle. Scarlet.”
They both continue to stare into the flames.
“I don’t have time tonight to find the butterfly sail ship. Nor its picture in the dollhouse.”
“Why don’t you go to the map.” Norris’ voice was so tinny and small that Ruby Fantasie barely recognized it over the hiss and crackle of the fire.
The map, Ruby thought. I don’t have time for that neither. “Tell more,” she requested.
“Could you speak up Tiny Norris.”
“Yes. *The* *map* *is* *at* *the* *center* *of* *your* *understanding*.”
Understanding, Ruby Fantasie pondered. Did I understand that correctly? Understand understanding?
“*Understanding* *yes*. *Go* *back* *to* *the* *map*. *Look* *for* *the*…”
Tiny Norris had fallen onto the floor. His head was in one part, his body another.
He must have meant glue, Ruby understood.
Hmm. Still not feeling it.
And where’s Mary? Better get back over to the Blue Feather.
Core avatar Baker Bloch has lost his connection to Pitch Darkly, thought Woody Woodmanson from his snowy abode positioned on the opposite corner of Fal Mouth Moon from Darkly Manor. Still not feeling it.
But it’s time for me to leave as well. New resident moving in. And rent for me! I’ll live in the gipsy wagon behind my own manor; become a gipsy myself, he he. Artist Alley must be built up. But we’ve had a setback with the loss of Julia (cottage).
“You should bring it back, Spongeberg.”
“I didn’t take it in the first place (Julia). I am just the destroyer. I don’t designate what is to be destroyed.”
“I follow the patterns of the user. Like all of us. Pitch Darkly is having trouble connecting to base avatar Baker Bloch now. That’s because the Head Line (Diagonal) is now being balanced and integrated with the brand new — newly *discovered* Heart Line down more in the southeast part of the continent. Which, when turned around, becomes the northwest part as the hand is postioned rightly. VHC City lies on the Head Line. Collagesity through Rubi Woods: the same. I speak for the user now, as all of us can. We can channel the user. That is the unique aspect of the core avatars. Period.”
Baker Bloch nodded while still listening to Spongeberg Resident, Collagesity’s resident destroyer. Nodding off, that is.
He was in a hotel in the middle of Vermont. Bernie Big Run sat in the southeast corner of the room but he was understaffed and had to take a back seat to…
Who was that in the northwest corner?
Karoz spoke over to the meditating Baker Blinker. “The Oracle Tree is broken, yes, but it’s still good to be back.”
“Chilbo. Without the ‘l'”
Few souls reach the top of the Oracle Tree. It was planted obscurely, in a small backwater of the Metaverse, with its uppermost branches hidden in the clouds, across a narrow path that’s easy to tumble off for the uninitiated traveler.
But now that you’ve arrived, relax a moment, ponder the blueness of the sky or the twinkle of the stars, and think about the view.
Perhaps you’re looking for a bit of wisdom from the Tree. It has such a promising name after all. “The Oracle Tree,” one thinks, “It must have something to say.”
But it doesn’t. It’s a figment of someone’s imagination, left behind as a monument to creativity, exploration, wonder, and fancy. A whimsical flower perched atop, I wish I could see it flutter in my imaginary breeze. Yes, someone came along to this spot and planted The Oracle Tree, and left us no bits of wisdom at all.
Though perhaps that isn’t true either. Perhaps there is wisdom in the expression of our imaginations, our flights of fancy, our whim. Tinkering and messing about to make our dreams visible, to ourselves and to others. Perhaps make them more real in this world and the next.
That’s the wisdom I’ve taken from the Oracle Tree, and I pass it on to you, traveler. Build something wonderful for the next person to find.
Safe journeys through the Metaverse. It’s certainly a curious place.
“So this is where it all ends for us.”
“I don’t know,” spoke Tropp honestly. Opp. Or, I suppose, Septimius Felton in this garb.
Wheeler Misty puts both hands under her chin; speaks more earnestly.
“Did you hear there’s a rumor going around that I’m Karoz’s mother? Did you hear that?”
“Well it’s true.”
Septimius wondered if she meant the mother part was true or the rumor part, but didn’t ask for clarification. “What next?” he said instead.
“We stay here. In Heterocera. Karoz Blogger and Baker Blinker have returned to their home of Chilbo. *Their* true home. This is ours. We *are* Chilbo in many ways. Er, Heterocera I meant there.”
“Of course.” He looked away and then back. “I’d like to be Giant for a Day again.”
“Black hole, yes.” Misty sighed. “We’re playing around with that. Actually, playing *around* that. Dangerous game. Like wrestling.”
“Yes, I’m tired of wrestling.”
“Tired of me beating you to a pulp all the time.” Misty cackles.
“We are not evil.”
“That’s exactly what I told Baker Bloch the other day. We are not evil. We are like everyone else. All the core avatars. We are representations of the whole. Like white light separated out into the rainbow colors. Each has its place.”
“Each,” Septimius echoed.
Misty looked at her ruby red nails. “We should return to Philo. Maybe get another set of clothes.”
“I think that you maybe might have enough.” Septimius then broke a smile. Both laughed.
Looks like people down there at the red lighthouse but aren’t. Man and woman.
Red has come up a lot lately. And the shape of the lake this island lies within — L — is symbolic of red via TILE. Will Karoz return to energize his college?
Now where are those itty bitty bugs. Down below that empty house over there?
No. Above it.
I believe that the Mossmen, perhaps including this Gene Fade but perhaps not, are behind the recent phenomenon of black holes in Our Second Lyfe’s sky at dusk and dawn. This is Moss Island. In the middle of an L shaped lake. Moss (character) wears an L shaped tie in the Red Umbrella (Stonethrow) collage Hucka Doobie was found recently studying (“Whiteyes”). L within Moss instead of visa versa.
It’s all leading to the red door. And what’s inside. Moss(men) guarded the door and made sure it was tight and secure until April 2015. Then when it was opened the game was set. The WIS maps all center around it. Just northeast of fabled Whitehead Crossing where Spongeberg Resident seems to live now in his open teepee.
There’s nothing else, really, on this Moss Island in the L shaped lake. It is just another stepping stone on the path of truth, another pointer in the direction of fate.
Up or down? Hucka Doobie asks herself.
Deciding to stay on the same level and not head up or down, Hucka Doobie realizes (Stonethrow’s) all a big code. Newfoundland. Red Door again. Moss.
It starts with Spongeberg in his teepee and ends with Mossman (perhaps Gene Fade, again) and his TOYS.
Open your eyes.
In perhaps related news: They’ve grown!
“Glue, huh Wheeler?”
“I think I’m looking right at it.”
“We take away their toys. We give them furniture. They’re grown up now. Here, I’ll show you.”
“Where’d you go?”
“I had the wrong group tag activated. Had to log out and back in to get the furniture back, pheh. So hold on *now*.”
“Well look at that, Wheeler. Took right to them (!).
Marvelous creations. But…”
“I know, I know. The last collage points right to this moment. Where one must put away their toys and become a man — or woman. Loss of innocence.”
“But is that a *good* thing?”
“We must admit the existence of Mossmen at the least,” spoke wise Hucka Doobie at the Blue Feather Table. “But I’m with Wheeler about Gene Fade. Fade may be just representative of the Mossmen as a whole.”
“But there’s Grassy Noll’s memories,” countered Baker Bloch.
“Ahh. We must question that as well.”
Baker emits air. “Bring him in, then.”
“First off, Grassy, we had some issues with your core avatar. Are you petersoso or edwardston? The latter would be more logical. Than just, er, sponging off Roger Pine Ridge(‘s core).”
“I’ll work on it. Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay.” Baker Bloch looked over at Wheeler, at Hucka Doobie. “Well?”
“And that’s how we learned the truth, Baker Blinker. That Grassy is a direct conduit between Our Second Life and the Toy Kingdom. Which we kind of knew all along I suppose. Two in one.”
“Why are you telling me this? You know it can’t bring me back.”
“I just don’t want to loose touch with you. And I thought you needed to know. Another two in one.”
The female Baker wipes crumbs from her jeans. “Karoz and I plan to remain in Chilbo, despite the loss of the Oracle. We will fade into the distance.”
“I hate that that will happen.”
“How’s your job going?”
Baker Blinker looks down. “I prefer Collagesity eggs to the Bennington experiments.”
“Suit yourself. Each are good to me in their own way. Finish your breakfast and then we’ll go take a look at Artist Alley. I want your opinion on some things.”
“Fal Mouth Moon. Black — Pitch, on one corner, and White — Woody, on another. This must be the same as the Jeogerock, which is the same as Grey Rock. Grey Rock and topping Seal Stone in one. All of this is about the toys, really, and Frank and Herman Parks. How the Mossmen and Mmmmmm’s interact. How the marbles figure into all this. It’s all heading back to reality. From fantasy.”
“Pick me up with your strong, muscular arms, Baker Bloch,” Baker Blinker then requested. “You’ll see how much this is reality.”
harder easier than I thought it would be. Remarkably light.”
“Two stone,” Baker Blinker projected, then lept down.
I *distinctly* said Alien, he groused. Alien *comma* Yellow. But Allen Yellow I am by definition now and as Allen Yellow I will live out my stay here. Another mistake, just like with Mistymo. I told the travel agency Mistymo. *No* space. Yet here I am in Misty Mountains, far far away from Nascera I would assume. Oh well. Must admit it’s pretty here. And I have a long long life ahead of me. Why not stay here for a while. I’m easy like that.
Time to see what the others are up to. Dolly, Jennifer, Archibald. Piper too. Poor Piper.
yellow like me
“I once had a happy life,” he kept explaining from the floor. “On my lily pad with Laurie. Our paradise, our private Eden. Until the yellow ball.”
Yellow, Allen pondered. Like me. “You said it was golden before,” he interjected downward. He was trying to separate himself from the situation. But he knew something was there. Something he had forgotten. Encasement. Something.
“Yellow… golden. Depends on if you have your glossy on.”
“Shiny, you mean.”
“Glossy,” Piper held firm. Indeed, his Second Lyfe viewer was different from Allen’s. Different terminology throughout.
“I needed a vacation from the ball. I told them I wanted to go stay with my cousin in Mistymo. Yet… here I am.”
Same mistake, Allen Y. ruminates. But now: *no* mistake. He knew that. And he knew darn well they heard “Alien comma Yellow” also. This is starting to sound like some half baked plot in a backwater blog.
Dolly beside him begin to tell her own tale. “They found me. I asked for it. I asked to be exposed. They found me.” Piper’s voice was deep, masculine and robust; Dolly’s was so thin and feminine you could barely hear it. Her pipes weren’t what Piper’s were. Allen received the idea that the two knew each other better than either let on — the way they looked at each other.
But there was Archibald left. And Jennifer M. Friend from Anniston, Alabama hadn’t even shown up yet. Complained of upper stomach pains last night. Hope she’s okay. Maybe someone should go knock on her door. Maybe that someone should be… me. Because, Allen admitted to himself, I kind of fancy her. 1/2 and 1/2. Plus she might need help. I’ll bring her some candy to cheer her up. Corn should do the trick.