00430501 (Island Boy)
He came here…
… in a boat. He was looking for someone. A woman both 3 and 1. Is this truly the right location? But the lightning strike knows, he remembers.
Into the setting sun he continues. Like a caboose on a train going round a dark mountain it is, soon to disappear out of man’s sight only to emerge the next day. Roundabout. 8 sided even, like the I Ching. The endless revolution of black vs. white. Lists. Into Liszt. We continue…
00430502
Okay I must admit I’m getting some pretty strong hints that I need to keep exploring around Our Second Lyfe and taking pictures and saving landmarks and such. Like finding this TILE waterfall and pool located near my old home in Urqhart on the Corsica continent in one of the larger versions of Collagesity from several years back now. Maybe 2020. Ferns to the side of diving board sitting Fern here, you’ll notice. Lichen has already taken the plunge. She’s all in, as they say. Fern still wants to talk about it, but also not treat her gal pal as just a sounding board — another board you’ll notice.
“They’ve done a good job of lining this up, Lichen. Board pointing directly to the waterfall.”
“I’m pointing directly to it too,” Lichen replied, although she wasn’t in on the diving board reference since that was all in someone’s head, perhaps Fern’s and mine alike.
“Hmm,” Fern said to this, and actually turned around as if looking for that illusive 4th wall. And perhaps she found it through her higher up brain power.
—–
Lichen set up the picnic area and waited for Fern to return. “Where *did* she *go*?” she muttered at a certain point, watching the sun set round Urqhart Mountain. Just after dusk, another came and illuminated the scene in a different light. One called Original Fern, a kind of wee person. Or doll person, she preferred.
“Okay I know that’s you Fern,” she stated, use to such tricks.
“Yes… and no.”
(to be continued)
00430503
“All comes from Old Grey and all will return. The illuminating light guides. The caboose is the last to disappear but the last to emerge. Black and White, Yin to Yang. Welcome.”
Lichen was getting tired of the joke; knew Fern was prone to such overkill. Often brevity for comedy was best. Good timing, Lichen knew. Fern needed to work on it.
“So you’ve explained the picture in *some* detail — can I call you Fern still?”
“*Original* Fern,” said the wee doll person still standing on the opposite corner of the picnic blanket from her, spread out between them like a quilted chessboard. Another board you’ll notice.
“And that’s, er, why you like to be called a *doll* person. Because you come from Doll.”
“Doll-*y*,” the little person emphasized. “I *am* a Dolly.” Silence for a while with this as Lichen absorbed. She tried to picture the picture he or she described (she had aspects of both sexes, Lichen observed). This one.
“Do you remember Phil? I called and called at the observing patio but no answer from the cat. This wasn’t Phil — Philip actually. Instead Philip lay at the bottom of this small pool in the ditch district of Kabusie, dead in his car after a visit to the bar. Drunk. Had the valuable pure bred cat with him that he bragged about to his girlfriend just earlier but somehow the cat survived. Standing on the container he or she came in by the shore. Maybe a mechanoid — still studying. Maybe that’s why the transfer couldn’t occur. Philip couldn’t become the cat just before dying because the cat had no inner soul to speak of. Working theory mind you. He had that power. We *all* know he had the power.”
“Fern,” said Lichen. “You’re an absolute trip!” Was this comedy at its purest, absurd statement after absurd statement? High entertainment at the least. “Good work,” she exclaimed, thinking all this was made up. It wasn’t; that’s the ultimate joke.
“Philip?”
00430504 (Lexi)
“So you finally found me. Through a brain-daze of all things What is it. Daydreaming Gamer?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “Although it could have just as easily been Lettuce Walk.”
She let out a short grunt. Acknowledgement? Or does she know something I don’t? I looked back into the expanse of the apartment. She made pretty good as a brain-daze editor, could afford one of the nicer digs in Kabusie here. Above most of the crime and grime. Above the world of the ditches which I knew fascinated her now. Thanks to the robot.
I gazed at the pseudo-flathead style version again she’s working on at her nearby table, parts shipped in from Montana. “Soo, you’re really going to go in there with that thing? Think you can actually make communication with ’em?”
“Plan to.” That’s all I could get out of her in that direction. “Speaking of which: How’s Panama?”
“I told her no on the Canal mission. Haven’t heard from her since. Satisfied?” I left out “lover” to end that sentence. Which way did she swing? Which way did *I* swing?
But, whatever, I had a base of operations in Kabusie. Door couldn’t be locked once I stepped in, rules of the game. We could be simply roommates or we could be more. Didn’t have to choose right this instant. Had time to figure things out, how the cards were played, what side of the shore we’re on, etc.
In the meantime, there were always brain-dazes. Lexi understandably had quite the collection.
(to be continued)
00430505 (they only come out at night)
From the rail, she looks at the car submerged in the small pool of water in the ditch section of Kabusie, then she looks at the cat on the container at the shore. “Philip,” she calls over to it and not the car, because the Philip within the body of the car’s driver was no more. No response from the feline. “Phil. Phillie.” Nothing. Fern concludes that the action which could have occurred must not have happened. Transfer of man into cat. Just before the drowning. She drops the list as she was suppose to do and moves on. She knows the camera will record everything, and that the piece of paper will be in the hands of the doll people soon enough. Robot dolls.
(to be continued)
00430506
“*Hey look*”
—–
“Something about that magenta paint, Lexi. Magenta in general.”
“Of course,” she said, glad to have him back in her chair, whatever their ultimate status as a couple. The actual Dizzy Lizzy’s now and not just a facade in Our Second Lyfe — just beyond this paint actually. And The Magician graffiti with Silverhhand manifesting underneath it. He stares at the pink from across the road. Might as well be the universe.
—–
We go back to Our Second Lyfe for the next scene. Shelley is trying out Jonny’s famous Mars cyberpunk guitar in his apartment set up in NWES City where we last saw her and beau-friend Edward reading dusty books on a flamingo pink bed appropriately enough. Yes, I’m trespassing again for the sake of a message. Prop is 500 lindens, pretty reasonable for the detail and animations, but I’ve just paid 1120 for the Silverhhand avatar and I have a monthly cap on such things. Or so I say.
“She’s pretty good for a novice,” Jonny begins. “Are you going to tag along when she goes on her world tour?” he quips.
“If it comes to that,” Edward replies in stride. “Question is: are *you* going to take her on tour? Mars guitar.” He glances over at her, rocking away to a Tin Can tune, “Baby Universe” I believe, 1 after the song about a talking horse.
“Listen,” Jonny breaks character. “I’m going to have to get up. This animation is killing my arms.” He gets up, looks down on the silver chair that matches his hand. “Great world, by the way. Graphics are *way* better than something that came out in, say, 1998.”
“Hmph,” says Edward to this. He has Shelley. He’s happy with the graphics as is. “Sooo…” he prompts.
“Sure, sure. Let’s just get out of here and back to a *real* world.”
Nearby Curt Korbain jumps for joy at the news. “World tour, world tour!” he chants over and over while Fern watches on, fascinated like Art before her.
We’ll get back to him and her soon enough.
(to be continued)
00430507 (14800)
“I was about to ditch Nightsity and move away when I found the DITCH.”
“The… robot,” I interpolated.
“Yes. And then I built my own in response. To explore the, er, network.”
“Network of ditches,” I interpreted again.
“Yes. A lot of it centers around the loop. And the creek.”
“Kabusie,” I added once more.
“Right. Ralph was sent in. My name for it. From childhood mind you.”
“Well, um. What did he find?”
“She. But *she* came out a little different. It was hard for me to see at first. A minor change in the circuits. But then other things started happening. Loops themselves. Growing upon each other. The robot had become the creek. Just like before.”
(to be continued)
00430508 (inversions)
“Of course I’m not going to take that playdoll on a world tour, Mysti. You *are* Mysti? Aren’t you?”
“You can call me that if you wish,” V admitted. She’s become the person she should have listened to and heeded most. The Devil is in the cards. She glances over at the golden gun beside her again, knowing it was almost the end.”
“No no, I’ve put that bogus world behind me, that bogus adventure. Like I said, it looks nice in comparison to 1998 and Omikron and all, but–”
“Jonny,” V Mysti requested, wanting to enjoy the cityscape from the rooftop while she could. “No more talking please.”
And shortly after that it was over.
—–
In another ending, she appears before non-suicidal V as normal as normal could be in this dark dark world, tribute to “Bladerunner”‘s Pris played by Darryl Hannah back in the day put behind her as she moves to an ancient forest region of Poland to start a new life, ditching Nightsity just like Lexi wanted to. Before she found the Ditch. Was this the right thing to do?
—–
“Something over there to the right, Lexi. Can you see it?”
00430509 (Elizabeth)
“Never mind the dead guy,” she said remotely to me when I reached the bottom of the pit. “That’s another story — we know that one already. Like Philip’s. Instead: focus on the hand.”
I looked around, turned on the thermal level. Grasping obviously, since the hand had been severed from its owner for, what was it, *67* years. Nothing detected except for the nearby, much fresher flesh. Silly to try. But there were rumors that the hand was alive separate from the body. Thanks to the ring. I tried another tack, a more sensible one. Gold detection through my Midas Ability mod (Thanks Rosebud1941!). Handy for creeks up in the hills, handy for here pardon the pun. I’d made a small fortune in combination with my exploring skills. Surprised more people don’t try their hand at it (sorry again!). But no gold detected in the area. This was all so much trash. I’d run out of my few options. Except, hmm, for one other long shot…
1/2way back to the top, we met up in person again across a dangerous, last gap. “Did you find it? We lost contact when you started digging around the bottom. Probably damaged the receptor on some metal or something.”
“Probably,” I said back. Radiation. Who would have thunk except for someone with a uranium ring already in their possession. Me. I stashed it up the only safe place I could think of at the time, pretending to have a sudden itch in that area. My bunghole, ow ow ow. “Uranus” for uranium, I thought with a painful, secret smile.
Saying I’d found nothing while clinching my sphincter more tightly than ever, I took a final leap…
Made it!
00430510
She recognized him while he passed her on the mean street of her beat, apparently holding an invisible phone. “Hey, you’re Frank’s friend,” she said to him, making him stop in his tracks. “The, what was it. Bank robber.”
He spun ’round, approached her aggressively. “How the hell do you know– about *that*” He was upon her, poked a finger into her exposed cleavage with the emphasized word.
“Relax, baby doll,” she said, playfully swatting the appendage away. “Soon the world will know. He’s writing a book about it. *Mikie*.”
No one had called him that since he was a kid. And lived. He instinctively pulled out a gun, trained it on her head. “Listen lady of the night, whoever you are–”
“I already told you,” she cooed. “I’m Frank’s friend.”
“*No*. You said *I* was Frank’s friend. And that you recognized me. And that I robbed banks for a living.”
“Simmer down simmer down.” She approached him this time, grasped the gun, gently lowered it to his midsection and slowly let go. “Men always acting through their penises mm mm mm.” Her head came close to his; she licked her lips a bit. “I didn’t say *banks*. I said bank. As in North Yankton. Or as Frank decided to call it in his infinite wisdom, Yankton. Just Yankton. No North.” Her mouth was about 3 inches from his, ruby red like her hair, her dress. “But it’s easy enough to translate. And then look up.”
Mikie backed away, shook his head, got animated with his hands, one of which still held that pistol but perhaps also invisible by this point. “You — don’t know what you’re talking about, lady–”
“Redd,” she inserted.
“W-what?”
“My name is Redd.”
He looked her over again, noted all the red. “Okay whatever. But you’re talking crazy lady. Frank doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And, you say, he’s putting this in a *book*?”
“Yeah. Chapter One. How my best friend and mentor Mikie Wikie robbed a bank in Yankton and then died but came back to life. Like Jesus. Are you… Jesus?” She cocked her head knowingly. “You still gonna shoot me… Jesus?” She took out a cigarette from her purse, lit it up, puffed. “Last cigarette, then.” She let out smoke. “Give me some time — Virginia Slim, you see,” she said about the brand, known for its longness as well as flavor and lasting power. She puffed and puffed while he just gawked; finally put away the pistol back in his pocket.
He woke up.
—–
He called his new-ish friend and protege after he got good and awake. “Hey. Listen, er, Frank. You’re not writing some kind of book or something by chance, are you?”
00430511 (racist, sexist, stupid)
Oh no Phil’s dead!
Or is he?
We’re burning the only book that can possibly maybe give us some definitive and/or quasi-definitive answers.
Good work “modern” society!
00430512
He actually turned the other cheek after I verbally abused him. When did monkeys, representing animals in general in this scenario, become more dignified than humans?
Knowing Fern performs before the green screen again while pal Frank Lynn observes.
‘Phil. Phillie,” she calls again from the rail.
“And *cut*,” the director directed. “Anyone got any rock cocaine because that was *brilliant*.”
00430513
“Hmm, interesting picture over there,” Fern said, noting that it was on the wall shared with *Shell*ey’s apartment.
Lexi wanted to get to the main point. “So what’s this… cube all about? Why is it — why does it look like plywood? *And* (she looks around)… where the heck are we? What happened to all the, er, shading?”
“Good question. And the answer is: we are in an old place now. Graphics improve with each new game generation. We are not in Nightsity any longer. Not really.” Fern turned to her traveling companion, the one she nabbed from Kabusie which is actually Kabuki (as overarching Nightsity is actually Night City). “You’ve been here before. You were a brain-daze editor here as well as there. I’m going to surprise you, Lexi. This may have come first.”
Lexi stares at the cube, trying to remember. She reviews what she knows. Fern, or a miniature version thereof, a robot or doll or something, found the cube in a ditch and took it in for evidence. She disappeared again and then came back larger (normal); said she was going to take it to a friend’s apartment and that Lexi should join her. So: here we are, teleport between dimensions successful. Fern had been wanting to try it out for a while. But the friend’s door was locked and the security orb was on. So she had to bring it here next door. As close as she could get. Owned by a girl from Montana of all places. Just like where Lexi got the kit for the flathead style robot she built specifically to explore the Kabusie ditches, where my train of thoughts end.
“Oh.” Fern realized, helping me out and allowing me to continue. “This is *your* apartment, Lexi. You live next door to Shelley.”
Lexi remembered.
00430514
Fern realized something else while staring at this suspiciously plywood colored picture more in the center of the room but didn’t say it aloud.
She waited for this until she and Lichen met up for their typical evening walk within the innards of Castle Town not seen in a photo since section 01 of this here novel.
“She loves her,” Fern said to her companion at their standard starting point in the Yalta Bar and Grill, sharing a beer before they begin. “Romantic that she is I guess it couldn’t be helped. She holds the key to my heart is the message. Right up there on the wall separating her from Shelley. Again. It was as if…”
“… she were peeking inside,” guessed Lichen.
“Good, right. Now all we have to do is finish connecting the 152 dots in the puzzle. Up to 76 I believe.” Seventy-six, Fern discerns once more. Kentucky! Alpha, Wait, Stop-gap, Hidalgo, Static, Snow, *Wendy*.
“Well. I guess that goes along with being a Pisces, water sign and all,” continued Lichen about Lexi. “Her home town — drowned when she was young.”
“Submerged yes.” And Fern then understood where they had to go next. Snorkeling in Flathead Lake, divided between the counties of Flathead and Lake of all things. And Polson the largest city along the shoreline. Another indicator. This was to be made into an Art Event.
(to be continued)
00430515
“What are we going to *do*, Fern?” They’d run into this huge plywood cube almost immediately after leaving the bar, blocking further progress, blocking what was actually their favorite place in Castle Town, down over the rails there and through the southward tunnel. The garden spot park on its edge where we last saw Barry De Boy. And Wendy.
Fern reaches into her gray capri pants and pulls out a golden gun. No, not that, she thinks, and then puts that in the back one while she reaches deeper into the front. Phone. She’ll just call Lexi, see if she has anything to do with this. Dialing…
“Hi Lexi. Listen, we have a problem here over in Castle Town.”
(reply)
“No, the one where Lichen is at.” My Shelley, she thinks but doesn’t voice, looking over at the blonde hair, the spinning blonde piece of straw in her mouth, more agitated than ever. Lichen didn’t like this, didn’t like change. But Fern knew they had to leave.
(reply)
“That’s right. On what you call the Forbidden continent but what Lichen and I like to call Omega, yes.”
(reply)
“Oasis in a desert of shame — you remember. Flattered. Speaking of flat…”
(reply)
“*15*?” Fern knew that the members of the Firesigntheatregoers group numbered 5 the last time she checked. Shelley, Baker and Wheeler, and then 2 others.
“What’s 15?” Lichen asked over. Fern ignored her for the moment, absorbing the new names. Took a while. Well if you aren’t going to answer me, Lichen thought, I’m just going to go over to the rail and look down at where we *should* be by now. If it weren’t for this blasted *cube*.
Dumpster down there gone as well, Lichen noted. Interesting.
00430516 (DITCH the switch)
Drew Grumpy Cleveland now had to wear 3 hats instead of 1. Co-manager of the Yalta Bar still he was, and then fill in for Barry De Boy (other bar co-manager) and Wendy (town gatekeeper), both of whom had skedaddled off to who knows where. So the bar was self service a lot of the time, thus Fern and Lichen having to serve their own beers before that fated walk where they found the big cube blocking their passage forward, dropped down from heaven or such by the Big Bosses and therefore couldn’t be moved or deleted by anyone else. But the same was also cutting down overall business here in Castle Town of Omega’s deep south, and so Drew had time to nap on, actually, all 3 jobs. Just like Petty in Aisle of Palms — at least before he was sacked because of it — managed to keep up with his sleep due to low tourism and attached cash flow in his several jobs there. Grumpy also had time to study the bookcase lists — like now. He had the 2 side by side again, just like he presented to Fern toward the beginning of this here photo-novel.
White to the left, Black to the right. But, somehow someway, Diablo *wasn’t* switched or reversed with the following word Draco in the second (Black) list like before. Going along with this, former porn star and current nudist Drew was president instead of janitor at the Martian Asylum Inc. business, roles reversed there as well, lowest flips with highest. He knows even if he loses all 3 Castle Town jobs his place on a pedestal in heaven is secured. And perhaps that’s the reason for the highest of higher ups to drop the cube on the town in the first place. To change reality so that Drew is king. We’ll see.
Sunklands 