IV.51 "And we were waiting for the end of the world..." =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Two days later, DARICELL and GRAHAM parked their car at a friend's house on Long Island and hopped on the NYC subway. A guy carrying several packs of cigarettes, suntan lotion, and two red castinets sat down beside them. He was wearing sunglasses and had a copy of _On the Road_ in the front pocket of his shirt. He called himself "the legendary hitchhiker," and seemed very excited about their journey. He asked if he could come along. "Girls, I know where it's at," he said. "And now I'd like to go to Spain or somewhere like that." Just then, the power went out in the train. The conductor made an announcement: "Please stay calm, everyone. Some gang members have held up another train, and we have shut down the power all along the line. I realize we are stuck in a tunnel where no light shines. Please hold on to your belongings." Aside from an older man's loud breathing across the aisle and a little rustling of bags now and again, the train car was quiet. Nobody was saying anything at all. Even the hitckhiker was silent. Graham flipped open her laptop. "It's a little too goddamned dark in here," she said. "And we can at least play Tetris while wait wait..." In the dim blue light, Daricell noticed that the loud-breathing man across the aisle had moved to the left, closer to two adolescent girls who'd boarded the train alone at the last stop. He was running his hand through one girl's short, red hair, and was stroking the other's arm, his hand moving suspiciously close to her breast. The girls were holding one another's hands, and, though Daricell wasn't sure, they might have been crying. Daricell walked over to the man, slapped him across the face, and said, "Do you think you can just touch these girls who are too scared too call out?" She raised her voice, "Well you can just move over there, over by the guy with the castinets who's sitting next to my friend with the laptop, there. We are going to move down here so we can get some work done. Or at least play Tetris." Things got back to normal when the train began to roll again. The hitchhiker began telling the loud-breathing man that he was going to accompany Graham and Daricell to Europe. He didn't shut up until an entire wedding party: the bride, the groom, the congregation, and the priest, all got onto the train when they were three stations east. The bride told Graham, Daricell, and the two adolescent girls that they had been running from the national press and trying to get married since they had stolen Martha Washington's wedding dress from some museum a few days before. About twenty minutes later, Graham and Daricell finally reached their station. They got off quickly, just as the bride and groom were saying the last of their vows. The legendary hitchhiker winked at Graham and Daricell but did not follow them. "Jeez. And that was just the SUBWAY," Graham said. "You aren't going to believe this," Daricell said, "But I think I need another cigarette." "Well, I KNOW I need one," Graham said. "I thought that old guy was gonna deck you." "Never fear," Daricell said, "I have blackbelts in both Tai Kwon Do and Tai Chi." User: GRAHAM Date: 15-Jul 09:48 PM 805844942
IV.52 Still Waiting for the End of the World =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As they left the station, GRAHAM noticed that she'd accidentally picked up one of the hitchhiker's bags, the one in which he'd put his castinets before she changed seats on the train. "I can dig it, man," she said. "I don't relly mind. I guess he ended up with the last bag of powdered doughnuts." "Let's send these back to the VVC, too," Daricell said. "Okay." User: GRAHAM Date: 15-Jul 09:55 PM 805845325
IV.53 I hear that South America is coming into style.... =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Daricell lights one of Graham's cigarettes. "You know, by the time this trip is over, I'm going to owe you several cases of cigs." Graham: :) Having escaped the subway, Daricell and Graham find themselves in the sleazy cheesy section of New York, the one that has loads of X-rated films and peep shows. "Er, ah, did we take the wrong stop?" Graham asks. "Nope. This is research. I want to see some of the fun lil' things we can find here." Daricell looks about. "All the same, this doesn't exactly look like a healthy place to be. We'll be quick about it." A sign across the street proclaims, "Oswald Family, XXX Films and Adult Toys." "Well, that looks promising," Daricell says. "Adult Toys. Maybe I can find a flail for X with "I Love NY" on it." Graham clicks the castanets. "Sure. And after all, it's a family establishment. What could be more all-American?" Once they enter the store, it is obvious that "what could be more pan-american" would have been a more apropos comment. A heavy man was standing behind the counter, talking on the phone in rapid Portuguese. His sleeve was rolled up to display a swastika tattoo on his right arm. "Gee, and I only have a polio shot," Daricell murmurs to Graham. "Let's check the merchandise." Graham wanders over to a display of oils and massage implements, and heaves a heavy sigh. "Do they have a Happy Fun Ball(TM)?" Daricell asks, referring to the wooden massage toy sold in BodyShops. "Nope, but they sure do have fun balls," Graham answers with a wicked grin, holding up an implement modeled "from the actual genitalia of LoneStarr, the porno King!" "Think we should send this one back?" "Oh, absolutely." Daricell took the "lifelike latex!" piece to the counter, and Graham found a flail of soft black leather. The proprietor was still on the phone. "Umm, excuse me," Daricell began. the man didn't look at them, but bellowed "Rosita!" at the door in the back before resuming his phone conversation. The curtain at the door opened, and a thin dark girl came out. She would have been pretty but for the world-weary, cynical look on her face. "You want to buy these?" "Yes please." Daricell looked at the girl. "How's business?" "We do well; we have no trouble," the girl said, looking around furtively. "We have an understanding with the law. My brother and I...." Her brother (!) slammed the phone down on its hook. "You like veedeos?" he asked, without prelude. "Depends. What have you got?" "You aren't vice squad, are you? Cause I pay to keep them out." "Good lord no. We're just customers. We do want to know about your policy on protecting your customers, though," Graham asked, wondering what the denizens of the VVC would say if they heard about this little escapade. "Well, your mother won't detect it so your father won't know. You like veedeos? We have the finest home movies you have ever seen." Daricell nodded, and was presented with a list of titles: "Friday the 13'th, a Nude Beginning," "Deep Strokes," "Kitten Cums Back," "NIghtshift Nurses," and "In-X-Sex." (note: all titles lifted from actual video catalogue) She selected a few and added them to the pile, then asked, "What do you have that's really original? You know, something that no one else can provide?" "We give service with a smile," he said, indicating himself and Rosita. Daricell shook her head. "No, I don't mean that.. I mean, a sex toy or something." "We keep our secrets." He turned his back on the girls. "Thank you, good day." Daricell and Graham left the store. "Well, that was strange... a family porno businesss... lovely," Graham said, as the two girls walked across the street. "Wait!" They turned to see Rosita running after them. "Here -- here it is...." she pressed a bottle into Daricell's hand. It was an old bottle, corked and sealed with wax. "The mixture in this bottle is a drink, a potion -- made from Spanish Fly, you know? The love drug?" Daricell nodded. "What do I owe you?" "Less than zero -- nothing -- it is yours. It comes from South America -- our home. Brasil. You can get more there, if you are interested." "Wow, thanks," Daricell said. "Where do we go?" "It is a little village -- near the Amazon --" A voice bellowed from the shop. "Rosita!" "I must go," she whispered, and scurried back inside. "God what a hellish life," Daricell mused. "And what a cool thing to give us." Graham nodded and took the bottle, turning it in the light. "I think you shouldn't sell the stuff, though. Could be illegal. Who knows what's mixed up in it." "too true. But we can at least display it." Daricell tucked the bottle into the bag with the rest of her purchases and the two women decided to take the taxi back to Long Island, no matter what the cost..... User: Editor Lady: pressed a button and talked in the past not present tense Date: 15-Jul 11:01 PM 805849592
IV.54 btw, is the past-tense thing a bad idea? is that, like, contrary to VVC policy or something? as in, since this is virtual reality, it has to be _happening_ while it is being read? User: GRAHAM Date: 16-Jul 03:13 AM 805864612
IV.55 Sunday, July 16, 1995 Dear VVCers: Hello from the road. Your proprietor has been mired for a few days in a land of pungent green bayous, spicy shellfish dishes, above-ground cemeteries in every town, and people with a French lilt to their voices. Yesterday I saw an alligator hiss at me for walking too close to her nest, and a forest of cypress trees burst into white flame as a flock of egrets took wing. Today I move on. My traveling compantions and I have indulged our common taste for gadgetry--we can play CDs through the car tape player and run a radar detector too, all powered by the cigarette lighter. Where would we be without electronics? I'll taste deprivation of sorts soon--after sending this e-postcard out this morning (via *wince* AOL), I'll lose Net-contact altogether. Next we seek lands where everything is fabled to be larger, cities of gold, baking deserts, and snowy mountains. Hope all is well at the Cafe. Expect me in less than two weeks...after that, send out search parties... :) Virtually (?), Traveler (Invisible Cities Mix) User: Traveler Date: 16-Jul 02:18 PM 805904302
IV.56 ......and there's magic in every season... =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Nice of this guy to let us use his pasture to camp in," Graham said, "What'd he say his name was again?" "Yasgur," Daricell said, threading three large marshmallows on a stick and extending them over the campfire. "Are you sure your friend didn't want to come along?" "She said, and I quote, 'You have fun in the wilderness and I'll stay here in the civilization.'" Graham held a twig in the flames until it lit, then used it to light her cigarette. "New York? Civilization? There's more jungle in there than there is out here," Daricell laughed. "Between the bizarre denizens of the subway and the weird proprietors of small, mostly-illegal shops..." She removed the marshmallows from the heat before they went up in flames and ate the sticky sweet goo. Graham threw a marshmallow at her companion. "Oh, and our last venture in the country was so-o-o-o safe," she drawled. "I do admit, though, it's nice to get away from Noo Yawk for a night. Peace, quiet..." "Alcohol!" Daricell pulled a bottle of bourbon from her knapsack and poured it into two tin cups. Raising hers, she pronounced, "Here's to chick trips, adventure, and the wide open road..." "Amen, sister!" Graham replied, and they solemnly clanked the cups and downed the contents. "Truth or dare," Daricell challenged, some moments later. "Oh, you've got to be kidding," Graham protested. "Well, there isn't much we can dare out here, is there?" "Well, alright, then, Truth or Truth?" "Well, with a choice like that.... Truth. But don't think I won't get you back for this." Daricell lit a cigarette for a dramatic pause. "You're interested in Trav, aren't you?" There was a silence, broken only by the crackle of twigs in the fire, before Graham feebly responded, "Could I have some more of that bourbon before I answer this?" Daricell laughed and poured another cupful. "Come on now..." "I *will* get you back for this. The truth is... we're just friends." "Very *good* friends," Daricell intoned, pouring herself another cup of bourbon. "Very *very* good friends... would you like a cherry lollipop?" "Oh, fine, then.... Truth or Truth, Daricell Copperpot?" Daricell grinned. "Truth." "You *wanted* Bill Gates, didn't you? Confess!" "No! Well... maybe a little..." "No one kicks their leg up on a table unless they're trying to get a -- pardon the pun -- rise out of someone." Daricell threw a marshmallow at Graham. "Well, it's only because he reminds me slightly -- VERY slightly -- of Zoroaster. Are you happy now?" "Incredibly happy. This was one awesome idea. Which one of us thought it up?" "Aw, it doesn't matter. It's one hell of a trip, and that's what counts. :)" User: Editor Lady: yes ma'am, I want s'more! Date: 17-Jul 07:13 PM 806008567
IV.57 "Anybody Wanna Swallow Me?" =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The next night, after a day spent in NYC, GRAHAM and DARICELL were sitting at a cafe in SoHo. Graham took a swig of a thick double espresso and burned her tongue. She cursed, put a piece of ice in her mouth, crossed her arms on the table, and laid her chin on her left hand. "So how many more motels o'love are we visiting in this crazy city?" "You look tired and veddy, veddy somber," Daricell said, pouring herself another glass of red wine. "Well, it was just..." Graham lifted her head and spoke more quietly. "I mean did the magic fingers have to be actual latex _fingers_? And Daricell, there were highchairs in that one place. Highchairs for adults." Daricell was playing with a book of matches. Each match was shaped like a tiny penis. They had picked up the match book earlier while at a by-the-hour motel called "The Rhythm," which catered to yuppie homosexuals. She was frowning. "There's on thing I can't figure out," she said. "What's that?" "Do you think these matches are more popular with the lesbians or the gay men?" Graham laughed. "I don't know," she said, "but I'm sure I'll be thinking about it all night, now that you've asked." "I figured I just needed to give you a real-life problem." "You know, if I had a marshmallow, I would throw it at you." A tall, thin man with very dark hair walked up to the table. "Mind if I sit join you?" Graham waved her hand toward one of the empty chairs and took another sip of her expresso, which was much cooler but still felt hot on the burned part of her tongue. Daricell just looked at the man and dropped the matches on the table. Everyone was quiet for at least 3 minutes. Finally Darice picked up the matches again, poured the man a glass of wine, and asked him if he was Andrew Eldrich. "Yeah, I am," he said. "But don't tell anyone." He drank the wine and told Graham and Daricell that he and some friends had come to New York on a summer holiday. Then he mentioned something about vigilantes following him, wanting to collar him. He was sweating and looked as though he was very nervous or had recently snorted a particularly long line of cocaine. Daricell held out the bottle of wine. "Another glass? Sounds like you could use one." "Just don't have an espresso," Graham said. "You look a little, uh, stimulated as it is." Andrew Eldrich pointed toward Graham with his thumb and looked at Daricell. "There's only one thing wrong with her befriending me," he said. He paused, met Graham's eye, downed another glass of wine, and said, "Take it easy. I think you're bending me." Graham cleared her throat and lit a cigarette. "Guess we're not going to be buddies, eh, Andrew?" "I only have one real dilemma," he said. "And it doesn't involve you or vigilantes." Darice poured him a third glass of wine, which he drank just as quickly. He took one of Graham's cigarettes and then said, "I don't want to be a lover. I just want to be a victim." Graham and Daricell each spontaneously handed him a small, white calling card. There was a large X on each. Beneath the X was a telephone number and physical address. Daricell said, "We know the perfect woman for you. She lives in an ivory tower at this address." "Does she have black hair and full lips?" They nodded, and Andrew took another cigarette and left in search of his own version of ecstasy who was, when he found her, coincidentally called ECSTASY. User: Graham just wants to point out that X _owes_ Graham and Daricell [virtually] Date: 18-Jul 00:37 AM 806027944
IV.58 ...fear of flying? no, not me.... (yes, this is a Duran lyric, but it fit) =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Please fasten your seatbelts and remain in your seat until the captain turns off the seatbelt signs. However, as this is a smoking flight, you can light you cigarettes whenever. And enjoy your flight on Air Costello." Piped Elvis Costello music wafted through the plane as a thousand lighters flicked on. Daricell and Graham relaxed in their seats with a matched pair of Camels. The captain's voice crackled over the intercom. "Well, we're climbing up to 30,000 feet... should be good weather for our trip to Paris. We'll be arriving in Paris in about 8 hours, so relax and enjoy your flight. And thank you for flying Air Costello, the only airline that permits smoking." The seatbelt lights bleeped and turned off, and Daricell unfastened her seatbelt. "Say, Graham... was it really, truly evil of us to have the airport intercom call that lady away from the counter so we could sneak in and grab the last first-class seats?" Graham considered the question. "Well, it was mildly evil. But she was starting to complain about the smoke and it would really be better for her to fly, say, Delta or some other smoke-free flight." "Then we were actually doing her a service." :) "Right." :) User: Editor Lady: leeeeeeeeavin', on a jet plane... Date: 22-Jul 12:48 PM 806417394
IV.59 three French letters and a German sense of humour... =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "I thought we'd be sitting at an elegant cafe, sipping wine and supping on bread and cheese," Graham said as she perused the facade of a building on Rue des Nues. "Well, when we get the research part out of the way, we will," Daricell replied,pulling open the door of "Crimes de Paris," a shop that specialized in items "Pour des plaisirs des coupler." Unlike its American counterparts, "Crimes de Paris" had an elegant atmosphere: the walls were papered iwith an abstract pattern that depicted (barely) couples in various positions. Wooden counters with glass insets displayed the various novelty items for sale. Daricell walked over to the clerk, a beautiful woman wearing a tight black dress, French-seamed stockings and impossibly high heels. "Bonjour," she began in hesitating French. "Avez-vous des implements --" "We have everything,' the woman replied in perfect, bored English. Daricell sighed in relief and explained, "I'm opening a similar shop in America and I wondered if I could import some of your goods." "Of course... what would you like?" Daricell took her sweet time examining the various items for sale, and Graham wandered about the sumptuous room. No latex models of real-life porn stars here.... the novelties offered by "Crimes de Paris" were tasteful. Silken scarves to tie a lover's hands; rich perfumed oils for massaging; delicately -crafted vibrators; beautiful, sheer lace and silk lingerie. Before she knew it, Graham was wondering whether she could bring some of these items back to the States; then she pushed the thought away. And who would she use these things with? Daricell finished her dealing: "and I'll take another case of those condoms every month." She rose and kissed the woman formally on both cheeks, and then, carrying boxes of sample merchandise, she and Graham left the store. "This place is beautiful. Where'd they get that wallpaper?" Graham asked, as Daricell loaded her boxes into a taxi. "I asked that; she wouldn't tell, but I think I'll be able to commission something similar." Daricell grinned and pulled open one of the boxes. "Look at this. It's so soft it feels like velvet air." Graham touched the fine fabric of the bustier. "I don't think I've ever seen one in that size before." "Well, I intend to carry lingerie for every woman. It's just horrible to go into Victoria's Secret and discover that you can't wear anything in the store because it was all made for someone the size of Kate Moss. Even the larger- size things are still too small if you're the chesty type. So I'm going to change that." Daricell grinned. "Besides, I get my pick of the merchandise. And don't you think Ecstasy would love these?" she continued, holding up a set of soft leather wrist wraps with attached thongs. "She certainly will," Graham agreed, feeling the soft leather. "Are you going to ship those back?" "Yeah, but I think we should eat first, don't you?" Graham nodded emphatically. "Driver," she said, "Take us to the best cafe in town." "Oui, mademoiselles...." User: Editor Lady: do you have to let it lingerie? Date: 24-Jul 08:53 PM 806619293
IV.60 but in the meantime: when your dreamboat turns out to be a footnote... =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The Cafe des Aubergines was everything a Parisian cafe should be. It had tables with umbrellas shading the customers. It served wine and cheese. It overlooked the Champs-Elysees. Edith Piaf music played soulfully in the background. Women in berets smoked cigarettes in long bamboo holders. The waiter was snooty; the maitre d' was intolerable. And Linda Evangelista (hair color: Kool-Aid Blue) and Kyle MacLachlan were sitting at a nearby table. Daricell lit a Camel and held it defiantly in her fingers, sans bamboo holder. "Garcon!" she called to the waiter. After five minutes, the waiter casually sauntered by the table. Daricell did not try to detain him physically; instead, she merely pulled out one of the leather teddies she had purchased at "Crimes de Paris." The waiter was hers. "Q'est-ce que vous preferez, mademoiselles?" he asked, with an appraising look at both the lingerie and the women. Graham blew a cloud of smoke at the man and replied, in rapid French, "I would like to see you at the bottom of the sea." Daricell was more to the point. "A croque-monsieur, please. And a bottle of wine." Graham ordered a crepe chocolat, and the waiter disappeared. "We'll probably never see him again," she mused. "I'll just wave the cat o' nine tails about... that would get his attention." Daricell stubbed out the cigarette and began searching through the bags. "I know I put it in here somewhere..." Graham chuckled and said, "You're having wa-a-ay too much fun with those things. And I thought you said you weren't into bondage." "Now, when did I ever say that?" Daricell asked, with an innocent look that quickly dissolved into a wicked grin. The waiter arrived with the wine, and together they put on that little skit known as "approving the wine." When both Daricell and Graham approved, The waiter filled their glasses halfway and left the bottle on the table. Graham sipped the wine, but her eyes narrowed as she looked over the rim of the glass. "Don't look now, but I think we're being observed." Daricell raised one eyebrow. "Really? by whom?" "Beret, black turtleneck, black pants, video camera. He's filming us." "Let's do something horrifying, then. Is he cute?" "If he were here, I'd probably offer him a cherry lollipop. He has a certain something...." Daricell laughed. "That certain *je ne sais quoi*? I think we're getting contrived in our choice of cliches." "You wrote it, not me. Anyway, he's doing a close-up." Daricell downed the glass of wine. "Is that a zoom lens or are you just happy to see me?" she asked in an exaggeratedly sexy voice, and then turned around. The observer was sitting at the table next to theirs, and was indeed filming their every move. "Stop that!" she said. Graham looked about for a roll to throw at the man, but the waiter hadn't brought any food yet. The camera continued to hum, with its little red light flashing obnoxiously. Daricell pulled a whip from a box beneath her feet and cracked it menacingly near the man's head (a trick she had learned from Ecstasy). That convinced him to put the camera down. He adjusted his beret and walked over to their table. "I am giving you a longing look," he began in halting English, focusing on Graham. "Great," Daricell muttered. "I get Bill Gates and you get Pepe Le Pew." Graham batted her eyelashes at tPepe. "How nice. But I'm afraid I'm not interested." "No, I will write you... as a book, or a script." he murmured, his French accent intoxicating. "Chapter One, we didn't really get along. Chapter Two, I think I fall in love with you. You will swear to stand by me in the middle of Chapter Three but you'll be up to your old tricks in Chapters Four Five and Six." "What if I tell you you're crazy, that this is impossible, and that I won't be part of your story?" "All your compliments and your cutting remarks will be captured in my quotation marks." Daricell rolled her eyes. "Sexism; I smell sexism here. You can't own what we say or do. And what will you do when she leaves?" The man looked smug. "I'll still own the film rights and be working on the sequel." Graham laughed at that, and the man went on one knee before her, camera poised. "Don't tell me you do not know the difference between a lover and a fighter," he implored. "She looked into his melting brown eyes," Graham intoned, doing just that, "and felt a stirring within her.... but their love was not to be. With a sigh of regret --" Graham sighed "-- she blew a kiss and whispered, 'farewell.'" The man stood, nodding gravely, and bowed to Graham. "Farewell, ma choux," he said, and left, whistling "Mon Legionnaire." "Your orders, ladies," the waiter intoned, and set their plates in front of them. User: Editrix, comme des garcons? Date: 25-Jul 10:42 PM 806712209
IV.61 you say you have no secrets... =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Mmmm... smell this one," Daricell said, holding a simple metallic bottle under Graham's nose. Graham sniffed. "A bit strong, I think. I really like this one," she countered, holding out a bottle from which a floral scent gently wafted. "Not me." Daricell traded the bottle she held for another. "Wait. Now this one, I like!" She closed her eyes as the heady smell, with notes of vanilla and roses and cinnamon and musk, filled her nose. "It's wonderful. I'm buying it." Graham grinned. "Haven't you spent enough on this trip? And I don't think that's for the store." Daricell winked in reply. "Pheromones, baby. But I won't have to import these; they're already in the States. You can buy them more cheaply here." She took the bottle to the cashier. "Pheromones... " Graham muttered. "Oh no. What day does Traveler get back from the West?" "Oh, Wednesday I think.... oh no. Wednesday. Today. Oh God. We have to get back!" Daricell slammed a wad of franc notes on the counter, took the bottle and grabbed Graham's hand. "Let's go!" They hailed the first taxi they could find and were soon speeding through the outskirts ("with all the love in the world," Daricell sang, to keep the EC mood going) toward Orly. At the giant airport, Graham knew exactly where to go. "The Concorde. It's the only way." They paid unbelieveable amounts of money, but secured seats on the next flight out. Paris to New York, in two hours.... At New York, they staggered out of the plane. "God, I've gotta have a cigarette," Graham moaned. Daricell waved a packet of Gaulois (purchased in Paris) under Graham's nose. "Come on, follow me.... Traveler, remember?" "Right. We must deny our baser urges. We've got to get home..." They left the car in New York -- they had to. Instead, they hopped a succession of planes, from puddle jumpers to jets, in the hopes of arriving back at the VVC before Traveler's return.... the surprise wouldn't be as fun if he got there first. Finally, they ran down the stairs of the final flight and hurriedly gathered their small luggage at the baggage ramp. "Good thing we shipped the other stuff or we'd be swamped now," Daricell said. "Don't talk. Just run. Maybe we can get a taxi." They ran outside, and to their surprise... "Norm! And the Hardee's Bus(TM)!" "What?" Norm! asked, looking worriedly at the two frantic women. They had a desparate gleam in their eyes, and he could tell that a wrong move on his part might mean a worl of pain to him. "Drive us to the VVC!" they demanded in unison. Norm! nodded slowly. "Okaaaaaay," he agreed, and was almost run over as they dashed past him to board the bus. "Step on it! We've got to hurry!" Graham yelled as Norm! climbed into the Bus. Norm! did step on it, coaxing the old bus to speeds it had never attained before (and would probably never attain again). It swerved through the streets of the City, nearly sideswiping a taxi in which a man in a ponytail was studying the local paper and wondering how things had gone during his absence. Daricell and Graham held their breaths, but he didn't look up. And the Hardee's Bus(TM) stopped in front of the VVC with a careening screech. Daricell and Graham tumbled from the bus, baggage in hand, and stumbled up to the door of Guilt Addictions. "Graham, this has been the most marvelous trip... we must do it again sometime," Daricell hurriedly thanked her friend, as they both stripped out of their traveling clothes and pulled on bathing suits. "Sunbathing?" "Exactly," Graham agreed. "It has been a fantastic journey. I'm sure we'll get to Buenos Aires someday. Back lawn?" * * * * * * * * Two women were sunning themselves on the back lawn. One was sprawled on a bearskin rug; the other sat in a beach chair and clicked a set of red c-c-castanets... User: Editrix, awaiting a Traveler with Graham. :) Date: 26-Jul 10:29 PM 806797795
IV.62 Daricell pulls out the remainder of her pack of Camel Lights and lights one. "Here's to good friends -- oh, crap, I'm getting ashes on my beautiful bearskin rug...." She swats the ashes away. "Scotchgard," Graham advises sagely. "Can you Scotchgard fur, though?" "Well, you can try.... and if you're going to put that thing in front of a fireplace, you'll need to do something to protect it." Daricell gave her frined a wicked look. "From the ashes, I mean," Graham continued coolly, and blew three perfect smoke rings. "I think I'll try that." "The Scotchgard?" "No, the smoke rings." User: Editrix with smoke! Date: 29-Jul 08:59 PM 807051602
IV.63 Still lurking about... =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Damn!" GRAHAM said, "I'm tired of lying out here looking innocent and languid. And I know better than to suggest another game of truth or truth. There must be SOME trouble we can get into around here, don't you think?" DARICELL blew three perfect smoke rings and said, "Well, now that I've perfected this trick, you could show me how to French inhale." "Okay." Graham inhaled slightly and let the smoke rise in a thin stream toward her nose. "Maybe later I should announce that _Casablanca_ will be the first film shown at the Cinema du Java." Daricell cleared her throat and stroked the newly-scotchguarded rug. "In honor of anyone in particular?" Graham ignored her. "Hey, I know... You said you liked browsing antique shops. Let's go shopping. We could see if X wants to join us..." User: GRAHAM Date: 29-Jul 11:41 PM 807061297
IV.64 Meanwhile, TRAVELER's taxi heads toward the VVC, but encounters heavy board traffic. "It's nice to get back online," he says, "but I have a lot of catching up to do..." (P.S. to Graham and Daricell: your adventure was quite entertaining! An actual story-post is forthcoming, but I must ponder...) User: Traveler Date: 30-Jul 01:15 AM 807066950
IV.65 Carrying two suitcases, a backpack, and miscellaneous packages, TRAVELER struggles through the doors of the White Room. He returns the shouted greetings of various patrons and employees, his sunburned face breaking into a weary smile. A waiter (one of the numerous anonymous support staff that let us "real" folx enjoy ourselves) rushes up and takes his bags. "Put those in my apartment, would you? I'll be right up..." The renovation has happened rather painlessly in his absence (since GRAHAM and DARICELL actually entered Guilt Addictions on their return, it must be there). At the bar, SVLVAR informs him that business has been moderate, but nothing exciting has happened lately--at least not at the Cafe itself. "We did get a big bearskin rug in the mail...and some, well, exotic stuff in brown paper packages tied up with strings. But ask Graham and Daricell about that." Trav frowns, then shrugs, and opens the one parcel he's held on to, a paper bag. He removes a shotglass with a highway sign on the side saying "Texas--66." "Been getting your kicks?" ECSTASY asks, pouring him a shot of Pertsovka pepper vodka upon his request. "Yes," he gasps after downing the fiery shot. "Traveled some of that old road. `Oklahoma City looks so, so pretty, you'll see/Amarillo...'" The barkeep cringes at his off-key singing, and he grins. "Sorry. By the way, where are--" "They were sunning out in the meadow...but I think they're on the west terrace now. You know, the private one? Wonder where Graham got the key?" "Hmm. Yes. Well, see you later." He heads for the northwest elevator, stopping in the Black Room long enough to request Depeche Mode's "Route 66/Behind The Wheel." He reaches the door to the terrace, listens to the conversation for a moment, then emerges, donning clip-on sunglasses. Graham spots him first. "Oh...there you are." "Here I am." "Haven't seen you in quite a while..." "Some of us like to travel, occasionally. Know what I mean?" "I...think we do," Daricell says. "So what did you see on your journey?" Graham asks. "Many things. A bomb-wrecked federal building...a legendary highway. Mountains called `the blood of Christ,' snow-capped in July. Mesas striped like Neapolitan ice cream. Adobe pueblos, built a thousand years ago and still inhabited. And a steam locomotive on a narrow track, crossing the Continental Divide at ten thousand feet above sea level." "Nice. But there's something you didn't mention seeing...cherry lollipops." He notices she happens to be sucking on one now. "No...I didn't see any," he says, sighing. "And I bet you didn't see a fraction of the exotic latex that--uh, that the world has to offer," Daricell says. "I guess not," he concedes. "But I did buy this." He holds up a small packaged labeled GLOW-IN-THE-DARK CONDOM. "You see, I had to buy it. Not only does it glow, it's got a guarantee like no other." "Oh?" Graham inquires. "Yes. The machine said, `Insert 3 quarters to receive product.' And underneath, someone had written, `Insert baby for refund'." They all chuckle. Then Graham says, "I've never really liked latex, though. There's no substitute for real flesh, you know?" "No indeed. Well, it's warm out here--I'm going into my apartment and get out of these hot clothes..." User: Traveler Date: 31-Jul 08:05 PM 807221151
IV.66 A couple days later, TRAVELER comes in to the White Room, and finds DARICELL doing some bookkeeping for Guilt Addictions and sipping one of SYLVAR's coffees. "Sorry I haven't had a chance to stop in and see how the shop is coming along," Trav apologizes. "I've been busy getting the rest of the new level in order--not to mention my new apartment." "It's going well," she says. "I'm getting shipments of stock every day --surely you've noticed the parade of delivery trucks? I've ordered from many of the merchants GRAHAM and I visited on our little trip." "Ah, yes. She's told me about it--the story was quite amusing. I like to see the Cafe folx venturing off and doing their various things...I was trying a bit too much to run the show before. By the way," he smiles, "the part about `The Gap--The Restaurant' had me *ROFL*ing." He looks at his watch. "Oh, I have to get to the kitchen. I'm introducing a new menu item today, a recipe borrowed from a place called Emiliano's. A sandwich of smoked turkey, havarti cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and mayo, on pan de agua. It's called Rebeca's Special..." :) User: Traveler Date: 5-Aug 11:44 PM 807666265
IV.67 Max: YUMMY! *looks very hungry and pathetic* Daricell shuts up her bookkeeping (math, bleh) and stares at a picture on the corner of her desk. Many people think it strange that anyone would keep a picture of Bill Gates with a cat, but those who look closely recognize the long-absent PI... "Tonight. You will be here tonight. I don't care if the plane is delayed. I don't care if you don't arrive in Tampa (oops, The City, 'scuse me) until midnight. You will be here and I will see you." "What?" It was Traveler, poking his head around the door, with a scrumptious sandwich in his hand. Daricell smiled. "Just thinking about Zoro. You know, it's funny that Graham and I nearly killed ourselves to fly back here in time to meet you, but that Zoro's plane has been delayed time and time again." "Guess you two got lucky." "I should say we did! We were desparate to get back here before your arrival, so we wouldn't miss any of the goings on here. But you won't mind, will you, if we take off for Buenos Aires later? I want to track down that potion." "Have you tried it?" Trav asked, with a smirk. "No," Daricell replied sweetly. "Should I loan it to you?" Trav wasn't fooled by the "innocent-little-girl" voice. "No thanks, I don't think I'll need it." :) User: Editrix, waiting for Walter Date: 6-Aug 08:08 PM 807739710
IV.68 Till death us do part ===================== The Atlantis Room is being inaugurated with a wedding reception, thrown for a couple friends of the VVC crew. A number of people are dancing, and most of the rest are looking on approvingly, except for certain members of the groom's family (it's a Baptist thing; you wouldn't understand). Champagne flows, flashbulbs pop, and TRAVELER eats another strawberry (dressed in a white-and-brown chocolate tuxedo--the strawberry, that is, not Traveler; he's wearing one made of more conventional materials). ZOROASTER's plane has finally arrived, and he is currently dancing energetically with DARICELL. Waiters and waitresses circulate with hors-d'oeuvres trays; real and virtual friends, past and present, exchange greetings. _It's been a while since I've seen this many Vaxers in one place_, the proprietor thinks. _And you used to be able to get at least half this many people every day in Row I... I guess we're a dying breed, like the system we've used all these years._ He pops a piece of beef Wellington into his mouth and chews slowly. _Heh...Unix and matrimony are doing us in. But others will come after us. Wonder how much of our creations they'll inherit? Wonder how much things will change?_ His champagne glass is refilled, and he sips the bittersweet bubbly, smiling. _Well, I intend to stick around a while longer. I want to see what happens next!_ User: Traveler Date: 14-Aug 10:13 PM 808438432
IV.69 Waiting for Paninaro ==================== The morning after the reception, while the cleaning staff is tidying up the Cafe, TRAVELER doesn't find GRAHAM at her usual table in the White Room. There is just a half-drunk cup of coffee and a half-full ashtray...and a brochure of some kind. He picks it up. In large lettering, it says "PANINARO!", on a background of miscellaneous photographs of pastoral scenery. The text is in Italian (or is it Portuguese?), and he can't tell if it's talking about a tourist destination, a person, or something else altogether. Then he remembers what he was going to tell Graham. He heads to the Blue Room, hearing Orpheus finishing up his all-night set in the Black Room. _Sounds sorta like the Pet Shop Boys...but I don't know the tune..._ He sits at a terminal, logs on, and sends e-mail to Graham. "Perhaps the first movie you show in your Cinema should be _The Purple Rose of Cairo_. It's about blurring the line between reality and virtuality, it's got that cool 30s/40s feel, it's got humor and romance, and hey--it's a Woody Allen flick. Just a suggestion...let me know what you think. "P.S. Any idea what PANINARO is?" User: Traveler: Mystery Dance Dub Date: 16-Aug 10:50 PM 808613430
IV.70 GRAHAM reads her email. She considers. She vacillates. She writes back: "Well, _Casablanca_ will be the first film I show--and a Woody Allen film would be good for the second half of the double feature I promised. I had been thinking about _Annie Hall_ or _Manhattan_ (comparative view of romance in cinema then and now), but I guess the _Purple Rose of Cairo_ would be okay. I've never seen the end of it, actually. And you are my boss at the VVC, after all." "P.S.--Sorry. Can't help you with the origin of the title of the new Pet Shop Boys single." "P.P.S.--Coffee tomorrow morning?" User: GRAHAM Date: 17-Aug 02:41 PM 808670501
IV.71 Daricell paused in the midst of arranging a collection of whips, riding crops, peacock feathers and ostrich plumes in a vase. "May I help you?" The UPS man stood stock still, looking around in awe at the collection of silk, leather, vinyl and other kinds of items. "What kind of place is this?" Daricell gave him a winning, "please-buy-something" smile. "It's Guilt Addictions, the store where all the implements of your secret fantasies are for sale." "Well, I guess I've got another box for you. What's in here?" Daricell took the box. "Hmmm.. PSB Productions. I don't remember ordering anything from them...." She shook the box and heard a liquid sound. "Oh, well, I'll take it." She signed the neato UPS-Box-Thingie and waved 'bye to the UPS man. The box was not heavy, and a heady scent wafted from it. Rose, cinnamon, vanilla, musk, jasmine, ylang-ylang? Daricell thought she caught hints of each in the delicious, sensuous scent. She cut the tape and opened the box. There were 24 small red velvet boxes inside. Daricell plucked one from the pile and opened it to find a delicately-crafted glass bottle in an abstract design, filled with ruby-colored liquid. The word "Pananino" was inscribed vertically on the glass, etched in a tumble of letters spilling from the stopper to the base. She opened the bottle, and the heady smell filled the room. IT made her feel..... romantic, desiring and desired. Daricell smiled. 'If nothing else, this will sell like hotcakes... now I should go find Zoroaster.' :) She dabbed some of the perfume on her wrists and then began arranging the boxes on a carved wood table, winding silk scarves in a sinuous nest around them. Then she left the shop, in search of the PI. :) User: Editrix: Pananino, mes amis! Date: 18-Aug 07:22 PM 808773791
IV.72 well, this is looking tawdry! i like it... User: ECSTASY Date: 19-Aug 11:39 AM 808832359
IV.73 I'm wondering whether there was some obscure (or not-so-obscure) reference which I missed in that post about Pananino. Is that really the name of a perfume? The new Pet Shop Boys single is called Paninaro and Max and I were (kinda) jokingly speculating that perhaps it was the name of some Italian designer. Is there some perfume called Pananino? And, if so, do you think the PSB were making reference to it with the title "Paninaro"? The lyrics pretty much keep repeating "passion love sex money--Paninaro..." User: Graham is still in an decongestant stupor... Date: 20-Aug 04:30 PM 808936349
IV.74 Tawdry! Why, Heather dear, and after we ordered so many little "implements" for you and your friends! ;) Did you like the leather and feather bouquet we sent to the Ivory Tower? I have a pair of padded handcuffs that are just waiting for you to buy them, too.... --Daricell, proprietress but not procuress "I sell the toys, but it's BYOP -- bring your own partner(s)" User: Editrixa Mischiveosa Date: 19-Aug 10:21 PM 808870937
IV.75 To: GRAHAM@vvc.com From: TRAVELER@vvc.com Re: Premiere Screenings, Etc. Could you meet me in the Red Room this evening for coffee? And after that, SYLVAR wants to show us some of his "library" of various media in the Blue Room. Photos of grafitti, music from all genres, nifty books... I think you should go ahead with your original idea for the first Woody Allen flick: _Manhattan_. Tales of two cities, on opposite sides of an ocean; two men on opposite sides of a generation gap; two romances, on opposite sides of a sexual revolution. Or something like that... I like most of what I've seen of Woody Allen, but _Manhattan_ ranks as a classic, while _Purple Rose_ is lighter fare. You could schedule it soon, though... As for the other half of your first double feature: _Casablanca_! Of course. I go to _Casablanca_ every chance I get. For the waters, you understand... * * * * Trav writes a bit more, then hits CTRL-X and sends the message on its way. Then he remember something, and heads for the White Room. "Attention everybody! A moment of silence for Howard Koch, who won an Oscar for the screenplay of _Casablanca_ (though he only wrote part of it). He passed away just the other day. After writing _Casablanca_, he ended up a victim of McCarthyism. But long after the blacklisting ended, his rightful place in the pantheon of screenwriters was restored. Here's looking at you, Howard..." Traveler silently raises a glass, and the patrons of the White Room do the same. * * * * Graham responds affirmatively to the coffee invitation; soon the two are bearing cups of java away from the coffee bar in the Red Room. Later, they are treated to a mini-tour of some of Jon Vallee's fascinating miscellania. Jon shows them a Pez[tm] dispenser he is planning to convert into a crucifix. "Pop up Jesus' head and out comes a communion wafer," the coffee man says. "I plan to call it 'Pez Christ'." "Ha! DARICELL would love that for her shop. Maybe she can start a corner for unconventional religious accessories," Traveler says... User: Traveler Date: 23-Aug 05:50 PM 809200247
IV.76 *ROFL* PEZ CHRIST!?!?! Who's been looking at Andreas Serrano photographs? On a serious note... someone actually just developed a "communiom pak" that has a wafer and grape juice so that the church members don't have to share germs. Protestant services only, folx; the Catholics still share the body and the blood the old fashioned way, thus far -- and still use wine. User: Editrixa fermentia Date: 23-Aug 07:16 PM 809205454
IV.77 Ben really has to get credit for pez christ. he _did_ show it to us. :) Trav: wish I had some of that java now... User: GRAHAM Date: 24-Aug 01:23 AM 809227436
IV.78 My stepbrother says I should involve an igloo of wine and adjust the scale (make a three-foot handmade Pez dispenser) so that the spigot is the nail through the ankles. You know... if I could figure out how to make a Pez dispenser on a larger scale, I'd do it, and I'd probably get a footnote in the New Yorker. I mean, isn't the whole Catholic cannibalism thing *supposed* to shock the faithless Catholics out of their complacency? User: SYLVAR Date: 24-Aug 11:18 PM 809306312
IV.79 Christianity has forgotten that it began (partly) as a Mediterranean mystery cult, with a mystical symbolic devouring of the god's willingly broken body at the heart of its great ritual. Getting Protestants more focused on this might make their churches a lot more interesting. :) User: Traveler: Trapped In Methodist Happy-land Mix Date: 26-Aug 02:50 PM 809448669
IV.80 You say it's your birthday? =========================== TRAVELER is bustling around the Cafe, attempting to round up a few people for an impromptu birthday celebration for SYLVAR. He finds ECSTASY at the White Room bar, stacking glasses. "Are you busy?" "As soon as I finish here, I've got to head up to the Ivory Tower," she says. "I'll be occupied with...them." She points. He notices that one corner of the room is filled with nervous-looking kids, no older than 18 or 19. "College freshmen. I'm teaching a special seminar through City University, and they foolishly signed up for it. Heheheh." "A seminar? On what, pray tell?" "Decadence and Deconstruction: The Gothic Sensibility...featuring the works of Derrida, Eldritch, Foucault, and Reznor." She takes off her bar apron, revealing an all-black outfit, and steps out from behind the bar. The freshmen cower a bit at her approach. "Come on, kids...it's tiiiime..." She leads them toward the northeast stairs with a grin. "But give Syl a cider on me, if he's so inclined," she calls back. Next Trav heads to the Black Room, where GHOST is fiddling behind the lighting console. "Sorry, man...I'm putting together a light show, and it's supposed to be finished tonight. Lots of people are coming, and most of them are goths...and you _don't_ disappoint goths." "What kind of light show?" the cafe manager asks. "Well, it's mostly going to feature Sisters of Mercy and Cure tunes. Only problem is, goths don't like any light except black light. So that makes it kind of difficult..." He leaves Ghost to figure it out, and finds GRAHAM drinking coffee in the Red Room. He orders an iced mocha and joins her at her table. "Remind me never to book any Clive Barker films for my cinema. Bleargh," she says. "Anyway, I'd be happy to partake in festivities for Jon Vallee." Just then, Editrix, a.k.a. MAGISTRA, a.k.a. DARICELL, walks up. They invite her to join in planning the party, and she gladly accepts. "Not to sound stereotypically female," Graham says, "but I have a pretty good recipe the two of us might whip up in the kitchen, Chef Lady, if you're interested." "Sure, why not?" Daricell says with a smile. "However, we'll have to work around the Krishnas. Apparently they like working here, and I'm short on kitchen help, so I figured I'd keep 'em around. But they can get underfoot..." "Heck, invite them to the party too!" Traveler proclaims. And she does. So it is that about an hour later, they creep up on Sylvar as he sits behind the Blue Room bar/op station, wearing his blue vest with the red-and-white "VVC" patch and browsing the Web intently. "SURPRISE!" yell Traveler, Graham, Daricell, the Krishnas, and various other hangers-on. Then, as Jon looks up, startled, they present him with a fresh-from-the-oven cake--coffee, of course--as the the Krishnas begin joyously drumming, clinking their finger cymbals, and chanting: "Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, Birthday Birthday, Happy Happy, Sylvar Birthday, Sylvar Birthday, Birthday Birthday, Sylvar Sylvar..." "Gee, gals and guys, you're the bestest!" the librarian-type person says with a misty-eyed smile. User: Traveler :) Date: 27-Aug 08:57 AM 809513876
IV.81 *laugh* "ON YOUR KNEES, MAGGOTS!" User: ECSTASY Date: 27-Aug 09:34 PM 809559247
IV.82 This is just a note to let you all know that the board isn't really dead. It's just shagged out following a prolonged squawk. User: SYLVAR made chocolate cake bars tonight. Yum! Date: 4-Sep 03:52 AM 810186764
IV.83 Sorry...TRAVELER and GRAHAM were gone for the weekend, meeting up with DARICELL and ZOROASTER in a frenetic tropical city somewhere to the south...their car was overheating, but they managed to make it there, and back to the Cafe... :) User: Traveler Date: 5-Sep 06:04 PM 810324256
IV.84 [and GRAHAM had REAL black beans and rice.] User: GRAHAM Date: 5-Sep 06:14 PM 810324870
IV.85 Under Construction? DARICELL stood back, hammer in hand, and surveyed the curtains. They were leaning. She sighed and wondered how she could get those *@#%$! holders to stay on the wall, instead of pulling the nails out of the wall. The rest of the place looked very nice, save for the tools scattered around. Rugs in French blue and white were scattered over the hardwood floors. Gleaming mahogany tables, covered with swaths of fabric or white Battenburg doilies, held tasteful displays of merchandise. Well, as tasteful a display as could be expected, considering the merchandise... The walls had been stenciled in various blue "frame" patterns, and inside each painted "frame" was a piece of lingerie. The lingerie could be changed to showcase the newest and latest styles. Daricell managed to wrestle the curtains into place and make them stay. She looked about the tasteful room and nodded. It was good. "Guilt Addictions" was ready to open for business..... User: Editrix: handy woman! Date: 10-Sep 02:36 PM 810744035
IV.86 As time goes by... ================== The lights dim in GRAHAM's cinema. People are crowding in for the long-awaited premiere, still getting settled in their seats. TRAVELER dashes through the doors at the last moment, carrying popcorn and an iced mocha. As Trav takes a seat next to him, Jon Vallee whispers, "What kind of movie snackage is that combination?" "The VVC kind. Hey, it features the two major junk food groups, salty and sweet, plus caffeine, which is in a group by itself." :) "I've got extra sweetness," Graham says from Traveler's other side. "Want some?" With one hand, she proffers a bag of red Twizzlers...with the other, she holds a single long, braided piece of candy in her mouth and slowly chews. "Ummm...maybe...later," he says, looking levelly at her. "Hey, who's that in the front?" DARICELL says from down the row. She points... .--------------------------------------------------------------. | | | And Now... | | | | [1m O u r F e a t u r e P r e s e n t a t i o n [0m | | | | "_Casablanca_." "Of all the | "What's playing today?" / / flicks in all | \ __ ~~ ^ ^ the theaters | / \ / ~ )###) in all the | \ / < ] (~~\ / world, and `------------------------------- ||= ----- > / --- ~~~|| -----' we walk / \ /====\ /~ ~\ into this ~\ /~~~~~~~~\ /~~~~~~~~\ /~~~~~~~~\ /~~~~~~~~\ /~~~~~~~~\ /~~~~~~~~\ one!" | | | | | | | User: Traveler sez, "Play it, Sam...play it again!" Date: 26-Sep 10:11 PM 812153516
IV.87 Vision of the glass spider ========================== The premiere was a smashing success, but the next morning is not so pleasant. A City police officer strides into the White Room during breakfast, and raps loudly on the bar until a grumpy ECSTASY finally appears. "It's nine in the morning, and aren't you on duty?" she says. "I am not here to sample ze beverages," the officer says, playing with his moustache. "I am here to see ze proprietor." "He's out on business. What do you want with him?" "To inform him of zis." He pulls a sheet of paper out of a folder he is carrying, and slaps it down. "Make sure zat Monsieur TRAVELER gets it, eh?" "Yeah, sure." X picks up the paper and begins reading the notice printed on it. Her expression clouds. "Hey, who authorized this?" But the officer is gone. She sighs. When TRAVELER returns, she hands him the notice without a word. He looks it over. "It's about...DRAKEHART? Forbidden from entering the Cafe?!" Jon Vallee walks up. "I was getting used to having him around the Blue Room--he'd practically taken over tech support and troubleshooting, totally on a volunteer basis. The network will be a lot harder to run without him. Heck, I don't even understand some of the software he downloaded from his head..." "It's signed at the bottom," Ecstasy says, pointing to the notice, "but I can't make out the signature." Trav scrutinizes it. "I think I can. Remember the director of the Official Ministry of Taverns, who tried to shut us down in the Middle Ages? Frost...There must be a 20th-century version--a City official of some sort. Frost has dredged up some alleged crime of Drakehart's, and used it to justify this restraining order." "But why?" SYLVAR says. "I've suspected for a long time that there are forces in the City government who would dearly like to see the VVC closed. I see them behind many of our misfortunes. Then again, maybe I've been watching too much _X-Files_..." "Well, I'm keeping a carrel open for Drake until he can return," says Jon. Traveler nods, with a faraway look in his eyes. "Someday the VVC may be out of reach of the City authorities. I smell a paradigm shift in the air. This morning I decided to take the Infobahn north out of the City, past the train station, toward the open country once called Viar. There I saw something extraordinary..." GRAHAM has sidled over, coffee cup in hand. "What did you see?" "I only caught a glimpse, as the road crested over a hilltop. Far to the east, through the haze, I saw what looked like a giant spider, glittering in the sun. It was walking slowly across the land; I got the feeling it was mechanized, and people were riding in it. And coming out of the rear segment of its body...was a shining cable or thread." "Interesting," says Graham. "Yes," says Sylvar. "I have a feeling that if that spider's web reaches us, our fate will be beyond the power of the City for good..." User: Traveler, waiting for the Web Date: 1-Oct 02:48 PM 812558936
IV.88 okay, TWIN PEAKS my house wednesday at 9, unless notified. if interested, send me mail for directions and an RSVP. (so i'll konw if anyone is coming. :) sound good to you, max? User: SIREN Date: 7-Oct 01:33 AM 813029639
IV.89 Did someone say coffee? ======================= "Where's that Jon Vallee when we need him?" TRAVELER says. "We're all set to start screening _Twin Peaks_ in the Cinema. Heaven forfend we proceed without an adequate java supply!" He wanders into the Red Room, to check if SYLVAR is at the coffee bar. Alas, no. There's only a strange midget dancing on the stage. Quiet jazz-- a bass, a flute, a vibraphone--is coming from somewhere, and all the room's patrons are snapping in unison. Traveler notices the neat red-and-white zig- zag pattern of the floor tile. "Huh. When did we have that installed?" :) User: Traveler Date: 8-Oct 05:01 PM 813171681
IV.90 This board is dead. Has been dying for months. Sad... but not sad enough to guilt me into writing anything. An odd phenomenon, the death of a group project... User: SYLVAR used to be disgusted, now he tries to be amused Date: 21-Oct 01:17 AM 814238299
IV.91 it's like, the end of an era. we got to watch cedar die, now we can watch mbbs and VAX die. the old fogeys will try to visit HI and realize there's no one there but the termites... User: SIREN Date: 21-Oct 01:44 AM 814239873
IV.92 TRAVELER broods in his office on the second floor of the VVC. Finally, after having numerous Bloody Marys and iced mochas sent up (which leave his head and stomach feeling rather strange), he goes downstairs, clutching a couple dog-eared sheets of paper covered with hasty scrawls. It's late, and the place is almost empty. Actually, business has been slow all the time recently, though there's an ongoing gathering up the road a ways, in a meadow north of the one adjoining the Cafe. Trav surveys his domain, then gathers whatever employees and patrons are around into the Red Room. The group isn't large; he doesn't bother to get up on the stage, but rather stands in front of it on the floor. "Okay, look--the last interesting thing that happened around here was GRAHAM and DARICELL's road trip," he says. "I've been thinking..." "Uh-oh," somebody mutters. "Hey! Seriously. And I think what we all need is a good road movie. But the catch is, I think we should take the whole Cafe on the road... "I spoke to the virtual architects on the phone--they said it wouldn't be a problem. The whole building's held to its foundations here on Board 6 by a few virtuality anchors. All we have to do is pull those anchors up, and voila--we're loose." "But...where do we go from here?" asks Jon Vallee. "Anywhere we want to!" the proprietor says with a gleam in his eye. "Actually, I had a route in mind." "Sixty-six?" Joe Java asks. "No, I did that one last summer. I'm thinking of somewhere much closer to home. Namely, the 14 Boards." "But we're here already!" Joe Java protests. "We're only on one of them. But why not make a Grand Tour--a Victory Tour, if you want, or--not to sound pessimistic--a Farewell Tour? MBBS-as-we- know-it is not long for this world. I say we raise anchor before the final tsunami gets here." "To extend the nautical metaphor," CADO says, "won't we be just wandering the cyber-seas eternally like the Flying Dutchman, or like a certain Atlantean mariner we all remember?" "Let me explain. I propose to 'dock' for a week or two at each of the other boards of MBBS. Heck, most of their ops are absentee landlords (or harbormasters) anyway...they won't care. We can do them in order, starting with General Disaster, or we can do it randomly. I kinda like the random idea --there hasn't been enough spontaneity around here lately." Those assembled discuss the plan. Joe Java walks over to Traveler and says, "This is a pretty surprising course of action." "Well, I looked at the MBBS opening quote on my way 'in' today: 'Action is the last refuge of the unimaginative.' And it occurred to me: maybe action is the first refuge of the imaginative. Anyway, the spirit of imagination has been dying around here--SYLVAR spoke the truth. If radical action is needed to bring it back to life, I say let's get radical." Joe shrugs, and walks back to his seat, coffee cup in hand. The cafe manager turns back to the group. "Okay...what do you all think?" User: Traveler Date: 21-Oct 02:59 PM 814287548
IV.93 4. Simplified Writing Guidelines 1. Join the "inner circle" of VVC writers, or play along marginally, letting other writers take care of your character. Just consult with me and others when you're developing a Big New Idea. 2. Speak for your own character, with only minor "filler" dialog for someone to whom you're talking. You can be more flexible with the "non-player characters" not based on any real person. 3. Keep your posts three screens long or less, even if you must break them up into installments. It's more readable... 4. The most important rule: HAVE FUN AND BE CREATIVE. This rule overrides any of the above, if there's a conflict... :)
IV.94 Java Boy shrugs. "Okay, boss. We'll humor a last request." He types on a laptop computer, updating his bookmarks file. "Hey, boss," he says, "have you ever heard of the Java Bean Cafe?" Traveler looks up in alarm. "We've got competition?" he asks, frowning. "Not unless our tour includes New Orleans. Which it ought to... but virtual tours are much cheaper, and easier to arrange." "True. Point being?" Traveler returns half his attention to the project at hand. Jon Vallee tilts his head to the side in Data-fashion, trying to remember the point. Something finally connects. "Point being," he says, relieved to avoid looking too idiotic, "I've scanned in the neon sign for my bookmarks file. Looks pretty neat. There's a link to it off my homepage." Jon hands the laptop to Traveler. "Neat. How'd you get this thing connected to the net?" the bossman asks. "Oh, this is fantasy, so I arranged a sub-ether connection with more bandwidth than a cargo jet filled with CD-ROMs." "I see," says Traveler. "I don't suppose you have our VVC photos scanned in yet?" Jon looks sheepish. "Um, oops, I think I hear my teapot whistling. 'Scuse me..." He runs downstairs. Traveler clears his ears with a shake of his head. "That's funny," he mutters to himself, "I don't hear a teapot..." User: SYLVAR Date: 23-Oct 00:56 AM 814409793
IV.95 "Okay, then, Jon Vallee is in favor of the Voyage of the Virtual Vax Cafe. How about the rest of you all? GRAHAM? What say you, cinephile? ECSTASY, how do you see it from your Ivory Tower? DARICELL--wanna take the show on the road?" One of the lights flickers and dims suddenly. TRAVELER steps forward to see those near the back of the Red Room. "LOUCH, sometime VVC hostess? SIREN, P.R. whiz? GHOST, lighting guy? "And all of you in the very back row--I'm not sure if I recognize you correctly from up here--MIRANDA? DELIRIUM? TRICKSTER? DRENGHI? You guys in the corner there--OVERDOSE, SANCTUARY, TIPMO and VENKMAN?" Trav can't see any other familiar faces. He smiles wryly at the thought that MBBS' remaining regulars can be listed that quickly. "Should we stay or should we go?" User: Trav is just looking for trouble...or maybe double Date: 23-Oct 07:22 PM 814476150
IV.96 Jon Vallee taps on his keyboard and calls up a holomovie of great quotes. In front of the assemblage is a virtual Kingsley Amis, who speaks for the group (minus the hecklers): "If you can't annoy somebody, there's little point in writing." User: SYLVAR Date: 23-Oct 09:12 PM 814482742
IV.97 i think it is time to take this on the road.... i will lend some time in coding html--i even have a couple of places we could set it up. User: ECSTASY Date: 24-Oct 00:44 AM 814495482
IV.98 Traveler: das cool, baby. SYLVAR: I know you weren't quoting Elvis Costello when you said "used to be disgusted but now he tries to be amused..." *looks hopeful* were you? nah... User: GRAHAM Date: 24-Oct 11:10 AM 814533006
IV.99 tour? will there be lots of cheap women, cheap wine, and cheap thrills? if not, will I at least get a t-shirt out of it? no? *sigh* Commander Sanctuary pulls out the communicator from his new Holds-lots-o-shit (tm) Klingon officers belt. Commander Sanctuary: DeghwI', prepare ship for depature! DeghwI' (helmsman for you uninitiated): luq, ra'wI'! {yes, commander!} Sanctuary (to the barmaid): one more for the road, petaQ! User: SANCTUARY Date: 24-Oct 05:26 PM 814555605
IV.100 GRAHAM: Yep, I *was* quoting ec. Thanks for (eventually) noticing. =) Every time I try to web the VVC, I'm struck by how difficult it is to put an atmosphere, a 3-d place, and a set of in-jokes into a web page. Any ideas? User:SYLVAR Date: 25-Oct 12:18 PM 814623540