00400100
Pink observes yellow (and wants).
00400101
Third time’s the charm as they say. Wheeler/Shelley has found a temporary home in the Sandfly region of the original Bellissaria continent, along with her two boys. A powerful psychic told her that down the road she’d have to choose between Arthur and Edward. But for now she’s treating them as one. Two fer One, 1/2 price on each. Bargain, she says. Cheap as cake, or at least yogurt. This region, this sandy place, embodies that idea.
She may have functional neighbors we’ll see.
00400102
It felt good to be here in the Sandfly region, it felt right. “Howdy neighbor!”
Bugs can get awfully big here though.
“Is that thing *ever* going to move off the road, *hmph*.”
Big Sandy
Her functional neighbor to the west, just over the line in Sandfly, happens to be named Sandy but not for the sim or the attached region. She doesn’t think. We’ll explore that angle sooner than later.
Just to note: there is a village called Sandy FL in Manatee County originally named Stephen. Sandy FL is Sandfly rearranged. Sandy and Stephen sounds like a good name for a *couple* living next door, then. Bonded through history.
Sandy’s is a former fast food restaurant chain taken over by Hardee’s in 1979. Sandy FL is 6 miles below the southeast corner of Hardee County in that state, originally highlighted by towns called Lily being in both Hardee here and also Laurel County KY. Laurel and Hardy, then, another couple, building up the resonance. How far can we go?
Just beyond the western edge of Laurel County KY is a conjunction of Sandy Gap and Acorn, along with Squib that points to Squid. I think we know now what our immediate neighbor to the west looks like.
Now about Stephen…
00400104
She logged into Our Second Lyfe to see who else was on line. Sometimes it was easier that way.
—–
“I wanted to talk to you first since you’re the husband. How well did you know Shelley?”
“You, ahem, act like she’s dead.”
“No no, not dead,” Marsha “Pink” Krakow protested. “*Within*.”
“Well… she was my wife.”
“Yes?” Marsha urged.
“And my lover of course.”
“Right?”
“And a friend.” He sips his now cool coffee. They’ve been at it for a while. Marsha is trying to justify keeping Arthur Kill around.
“And she still is,” Marsha reiterated the “not dead” part. Within, she thought. Within *her*. Then Marsha stifled the urge to gasp as she looked next door. Happened all the time since the conversion, the merger. Luckily she had coffee in her hand to remind her gesturing arm this time. She’ll beat it, though. Tammy (or Frankie) “Beige” Brown should remain within, as a conscience perhaps. She’ll figure it out. What’s done is done and all; no going back.
“Did you know,” she said, still staring at the neighbor’s house opposite the direction of Sandy’s we just discussed, “that I’ve met him before. The (eastward) neighbor and all. Not his person, his *statue*. Imagine that?”
“Mountain Lake,” she specified the location. “I use to skinny dip up there!”
—–
Suddenly she was back there, coffee cup still in hand but not animated any longer. The statue up on the ridge was gone — no surprise since it’d been perhaps 5 years since she’d been to this location. But, amazing to her, the *skinny dippers* were still around, just down in the water below from her default landing spot. Ditsy and Zizzy, she even recalled the names. Brabinites, they were. Or maybe Bravinites, one or the other she’s pretty sure. How could the thing they worship — 5 years ago again — be her neighbor now, just by chance since Linden homes like her Sandfly trailer are randomly assigned?
And that gets me to another topic. I’ve decided to call the sandy region Marsha lives in now *Big Sandy* instead of Sandfly, which is instead returned to the name of an included sim and that alone. More soon…
zeroed out
“Why don’t you take off your pink clothes and stay a while? Or at least put on a bathing suit like me.” Marsha “Pink” Krakow was talking to an old friend on the dock while staring out at clothes-less Ditsy and Zizzy swimming happily beneath. Aedima Hill was her name, ring leader of at least this chapter of the Brabinites, she said, emphasizing that the term Bravinites was wrong.
“I’m fine,” she replied, smoothing out the wrinkles on her hot pink pants she certainly intended to keep on. Those type of days were behind her, she knew, staring out at rumps in the water. Thanks to the monster Tom Banks. He *saw*.
“He must have changed it,” Aedima Hill said about the name. “He must have gone undercover, incognito. How exciting we’ve found him. At long last! Did you hear that, girls?!” she called down. “We’ve found him!” Squeals of elation from the water; playful splashing. Brabin to Bravin — a simple change but perhaps one he thought would be effective enough. Little did he know fate would bring Marsha “Pink” Krakow to him. And that she would have knowledge of the statue. And these guys — his faithful fan club, persistent down through the years now.
They sat silent for a while, both trying to formulate the next step. The girls in the the water went quiet as well. Everyone was contemplating the impossibility of it all. Especially since Marsha skinnydipped… skinnydipped…
—–
She was back.
“So it *was* you,” she spoke over to the turned crocogator while staring at something else.
Flashback Friday: RB Mountain (likewise 0106 post from novel 11)
Rocky Comfort
The mouse already had a rat and he was she. Giant monster Albert couldn’t get inside this time. The girl was safe. For now.
Made it! Butt… where am I??
She eventually makes her way through all the other rooms to the bathroom. And the scales, but something was different from before, although they still registered zero just like she was a kidd again, a baby, an infant, a… fetus. We couldn’t see the tub ducks so no yellow in the picture now. Definitely changed, although the observer still observed from atop the falls.
She wakes up in bed, cow patterns to the front, cow patterns to the side. No noise.
Where is everyone? she asks herself after sitting up and scratching her head in confusion. Flown away?
Turns out it was so.
Butterfingers appear in a cave.
Pink sees yellow again (and wants).
We’re back on the correct timeline.
(to be continued)
no Plain Jane
“Go ahead. Take it for a spin.” In the darkness, Marsha hadn’t seen her sitting at the table — apparently reading — while she checked out this likewise yellow bug of a neighbor, a buggy if you want to get technical. She was mulling over specifics about its traction, how deep of a sand drift could you drive it through, and so on. And now the owner’s right over there. If she’s not too pissed about Marsha being on private property, maybe she could get some answers to these.
“I’m so sorry for being here, um, miss. It’s just that…”
“Yes yes, I know. You have a yellow bug too. Couldn’t resist the temptation. I’ve been eyeing your own parked over there for days. Well, for nights. That’s the only time I show up. Awfully busy above during the sunshine hours you know.” She points up, indicating Reality reality as opposed to Our Second Lyfe reality. Marsha figured she had a job that kept her going.
“Who are you?” Marsha ventured. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Not at all. But I’m just an ordinary, average gal. Mrs. Ordinary, if you will. You call me that: Mrs. Ordinary. Ah heck,” she waved off the suggestion. “Call me my actual name. Beth. Beth Page. No (she changed her mind again). Beth Compt… no, Comfort. Like the mound just above me. Rocky Comfort. I’ve seen you up there as well, surveying the land. Figured out we all came in a group, huh. 15 years old the lot of us. Not Beth (she changed once more): Bethany. But keep the Comfort.”
But later Marsha learned her real name was Ginger Blue, which called into question her very existence.
(to be continued)
512 and counting
I’ve made a map of the age of avatars owning property around Rocky Comfort (RC in the middle, in turn the perceived center of Sandfly Big Sandy) in terms of years and then months. Seems like a lot of old folks here, with age 15 predominating, throw in a couple of 16s even. Maybe they did come here as some sort of group, like Mrs. Ordinary reinforced to Marsha in that last post of this blog and attached photo-novel. Speaking of which…
“Oh it’s right out there in the ocean, just beyond the lighthouse. Can’t you see?” Then Mrs. Ordinary remembered she was wearing her new, custom-made eyes which gave her extraordinary sight indeed. Kill her: she indulged herself. She works hard up there in the real world, she wants to play hard down here during her off time, relatively effortless 20/5 vision, supersonic hearing, the works. She doesn’t want to miss *anything*.
“I can’t see it,” says suddenly shivering Marsha, not daring to extend her normal 128 meter draw due to local lag. She crashes too much as it is. “Cold out here: let’s go back. We can go to the boat another day when I can get a proper rest. Just arrived you know.” River’s still strong in her mind. And what happened there.
“Oh it’s beautiful,” Mrs. Ordinary went on about the thing. “3 sims and the truth. Galaxy is a good name for the craft it’s so big. Milky Way would have been another.”
“Universe?” jokes tired Marsha, who then gets up from the barrel she’s sitting on and starts heading inland again. Back to Rocky Comfort and thereabouts. Back to the sand she feels more at home in. Big Sandy.
“Everything’s banned around here anyway,” she throws back to trailing Bethany, er, Ginger.
it all ends here (goodbye!)
She’d been here once before and didn’t quite manage to enjoy all of it, I knew, so I bought her a golden ticket again because she got me over the finish line. The Last Boss, now without encasing giant blueberry. Good for her! She’s tempered the critical tongue that I didn’t see but others have now told me about. We all have flaws. Thing is, we must see ourselves in others in order to advance; understand we created all these situations jointly. She seems to represent All Bosses. Let’s look in at what she’s doing now…
Reading this blog and attached photo-novel (!). Let’s see what she’s doing now.
Same thing!
Let’s look in at what she’s doing now.
triad
“I’m glad we switched places so that my blue side is showing,” spoke Vain and Artery Boy, our Gill Alex, over to lover and perhaps brother (from another mother) Rock Ramby, formerly of Chaucey. Always vain, this tri-colored avatar is, wanting to show his best side to the outside world, the camera, the 4th wall which both knew was always there when they appeared in these here photo-novels. Self-awareness of sorts, if only in a narcissistic way. “I’m sorry,” Vain and Artery Boy continued, “if that particular side reminds you of my old lover, the Blue Berry Girl we’ve been talking about so much recently. I wish her well,” he spoke huskily, adapting to the ocean air at last, “but it’s over, done, kaput. We will probably never speak to each other again.”
Rock took it all in. He knew they were here to look for a knob, and not necessarily his, although it does involve rocks, as in a Rocky knob. Just over there somewhere in Big Sandy, just out of sight from their perspective on the starboard side of the USS Galaxy, draw distance extended to the max while they were sitting here and not experiencing any lag through motion. If only they had Mrs. Ordinary’s pricey, fancy schmancy long seeing eyes it might be spotted. Still… soon enough. Mrs. Ordinary was a friend and she lived right below it. Vain and Artery Boy just had to ditch Blue Berry Girl, probably crying her own eyes out in her room somewhere across from them, he imagined. But in actuality, she was quite relieved of the unburdening. She’d met someone else too, a new person and not an old love in his case. Chaucey (there’s that name again). Also known as Bill Ups I believe. I’ll check asap.
(to be continued)
sounds like Serendipity (people call her Dip)
“Anyway, I thought you’d want to know about your cousin.”
“Thanks, Marsha. We haven’t really interacted with each other in years. But: ‘preciate the news.” She takes another drag off her cigarette, this Serenity Lane, related to Shelley Lane through their fathers who are brothers, she said.
“It’s not like she’s totally gone, though. She’s in here.” And Marsha pointed to her heart to indicate the inside nature of the other Lane now. “Actually she provided me with the (grown up) body during the conversion. The other one, a girl named Brown, provided the gestures and maybe the conscience of the conceived entity.”
“You,” spoke Serenity, still trying to wrap her brain around the concept. A three-in-one, she pondered. Another drag. That means…
“Yes, I’m Marsha ‘Pink’ Krakow still,” Marsha continued, “because of the hair, the hot pink clothes and shoes. But mainly the hair.” She tugged at it, indicating it wasn’t a wig and that it was a permanent part of the body now. Unlike before. Although she had an important add-on of similar tint. Some pigtails. She was waiting for that special someone to show the thing off to. She’s working on it by process of elimination, Arthur Kill (hubby to Shelley) already decided upon and sent away. Next up: Edward Daigle, the fantasy boyfriend inside the novels which were as real as the outside, one penetrating and interweaving with the other. She had a hard time telling them apart any more. But that was yesterday. Today is today. So odd she finds the 1st cousin of one of her 3 constituents in Big Sandy, and not far from the central Rocky Comfort atall, just over the sound from it. Maybe it’s the actual reason she came here. She’s finding many odd things about the region, starting with multiple giant bugs.
“How long have you been here? if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Not atall.” She put out the cigarette in the palm of her other hand and then used the same to count years, no sign of pain detected and no burn mark left. Magic, we can guess, which would continue. “One two three four five,” she said, indicating the fingers in order from thumb to pinkie on the somehow undamaged hand, then again: “six seven eight, let’s see, nine. Nine years.”
Marsha “Pink” Krakow knew the original continent of the Bellissaria complex was only formed 5 years ago. So either Serenity was lying or she was living in an alternate universe where time operated differently. Turns out it was the latter.
(to be continued)
last laughs
Well they’re having some fun, aren’t they. But Gill/Vain and Artery Boy doesn’t think he’s putting his best face forward so they stop this…
… and move on to the toy room where Gill feels Rock hogs the horsie while he’s stuck on the slide.
Literally stuck, as it turned out. “I’ll get you out of there, buddy,” speaks Rock over to his helpless mate. “Just as sooon… as I finish this picture I’m working on, he he.”
“F- you.”
Then it’s on to the climbing wall where Rock enjoys the view just before things turn tragic and Gill tumbles downward after being distracted by a passing balloon. “Nice work… *Jill*,” Rock belabors head holding Gill at the bottom (pronounced with a hard g of course instead of the soft one), making his day even worse. He promises to get even in the end, though…
“No room on the ship no room on the ship!” he cries while Rock sheds tears outside, knowing the Earth is about to blow up and he’s going with it. The aliens only save one this day.
Now Gill can get a good night’s sleep amongst the stars, HA.
“Okay, toy room’s closing in 5 minutes, *children*,” spoke ship steward Jimmy Bimimmy to Rock and Gill at 9:55. “Can you find your way back to your rooms? Do you want me to call your Mommy and Daddy to come help you?” (*snicker*)
TILE trains (you always have to be aware)
“You know, I’m tired of the toy room. This is the second day in a row.”
“What!?”
“I said, this is the second day!”
“Sorry! Still can’t hear you over the chair springs!”
“We’ve got to start acting our age,” continued Gill one toy attraction over. “Blue Berry Girl could have been a real thing. Then we would have had serious problems!”
“Patty cake?” spoke Rock over, still not worried. Moving on…
“I mean, what about that pension fund you were going to start at the bank, the one that paid 5.74% interest? How’s that going?”
“Your rump is big, te he.” Next…
“I mean, Rock. Look at us. I’m 42 and you’re 48 or something.”
“46!” he protested, debating whether to trade a giraffe for one of Gill’s kangaroos. Might swing the zoo business in his favor.
“Point is, we’re not getting any younger.”
“Can I play now??”
Jointly: “No!” Poor kid.
—–
“We don’t have any other attractions to visit in the toy room anyways. We *have* to leave. Right kid?”
“No!!”
Ship steward Jimmy Bimimmy showing up at 9:55 again: “Is this *your* kid? *Kids.*” (snicker)
Was it?
(to be continued?)
00400115
They’d found something else in the sim of Carcossa, as close as you can get to Carcassonne among sim names in Our Second Lyfe. She knew this *crocogator* was the same as the great olive being, the former ruler of Collagesity back in the old days before the coming of Wheeler — olive as a color, even, if one didn’t already have enough evidence. Near the southeast corner of a 3×3 square of island sims effectively separated from the rest of old Bellissaria. But they don’t know what it means yet.
She had to approach the deity in order to become herself again, pink clad and dominant among the three constituents. It was going to be especially hard to keep Shelley down in the subconscious. Very powerful: dark butterfly power. Marsha tries to keep light about things. A laugh here and a giggle there helps, positive influence of Brown (3rd).
And that’s not all they found in this highlighted sim. A similar reptile positioned in a likewise southeast corner points the way.
Strong evidence that the rapscallion Bart lived here as a 13 year old boy in a 15 year old avatar’s body.
(to be continued)
twofer
She peered closer at one of the 2 bathers she thought might somehow represented Brabinites Ditsy and Zizzy Grant seen at the Omega continent’s Mountain Lake earlier in this here section. Instead: “That looks like me(!) Two of me!”
Somebody waited below out on the deck of the [Carcossa] houseboat with all the flowers they’d bought. Edward. The chosen one.
And… Edward?
Sunklands 