Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Cape Wrath Night Vigil before the dawn

On the terrace of the Hypnotic Shoppe,  the absence of the train and station, the hospital with its emergency vehicle traffic, and all the quaint businesses lining the age old creaky piers, allowed the ocean's timeless surf to ebb and flow audibly in the moonlight. Normally it is barely possible to make out the surge, and now its crashing splashing rung out from its dashing upon the Winterfell rocks, just a narrow Strait away.

   Parked above was the old 12:02. Like ,, well, like clockwork. Sentinel to a silent land. There weren't even ghosts or a faint haunting spirit in the air; they'd moved on, likely on to Brigadoon next door. They know a thing about ghostly apparitions there.

   It was then I realized- it was my beach house all over again. Too full of pride, and too aged to cry out, the ancient land stared up at the cold Night Governor, refusing to utter a sound of sadness or regret. The sea knew these might be the last laps on Cape Wrath shoreline, not so much louder about it as more defined. The Cape had won its medals, fought in the wars, given birth to many nearby sims; it was content to stare its end  in the eye with honor, alone, but not lonely.

   And yet, the 12;02 stayed.  Now past 3:00, the empty gondola hung low under her frameless dirigible. She hovered over the gold plated platform long after she was due at other stops.  Not much deters the CATS from their appointments; what was it she knew?

   My feet ran with the typical doll like grace of a trained ballerina doll, stairs two at a time up the high ladderway to the top. They had left the platform, but taken the elevator. There was great meaning there, but I chose not to chase it from its thicket of murky ionic fluid.

   I watched Night's fleet minister move across the cold Heavens, nearing the dawning of the Cape's last day.  The CAT airship blew its airhorn twice, loud enough to be heard on both sides of the peninsula, and then begun to move, its work done. I agreed, stepping on board. The trip to Oxbridge Village took a long time, but I was mired in deep thoughts which must be how humans live every day. I pitied them then, and yet knew that in less that 18 hours I would have that which separated me from their Truth, their understanding, their fleshly key to the terrifying back rooms of consciousness. Unable to fathom such intents, nor divinely allowed to, The Cat ship and I had found a great illumination to that abyssal scape of the sentient. We had sat the night vigil. Dawn was coming, as always happens after darkest night.

Southern Oxbridge Village, looking north at the Steam Sky Commons from my porch

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Returning to your purpose, Ballet Pixelle

I stood in my doll box for an hour, just staring at my reflection in the thick cellophane- expensive makeup and hair styling, an amazing dress and the new crown on my head, the crown of the Duchess of the fated Cape Wrath, now 5 days from its derezzing into the Forever Broken. Yet, I felt happy!

The Cape has been wonderful, and the people remain, in fact at my new little home, my neighbor is one of my friends from the Cape, Brianna. Very glad to see she has found a nice place by the sea, she did  before and I am sure it mattered to her. It mattered to me, and I am a clockwork person. People seem to need things much more, but I may be wrong.

It suddenly hit me then, that I should  return, to the purpose of my creation, my reason. I stared at the picture of me, taken the first week of my creation, October 2009:
The freebie Barbie Princess outfit given by the Dollmaking Machine at the old  Dollworks in the now gone Barbie Village.

I knew as I stared at the image of me in my ballerina leotard and princess dress, exactly what ended doing.

I ran in my heels to the train station, but,,, it was gone! The C-DOT workers had already removed it, So it was a few minutes later  that I got flying in the Copper Dream, on my way to
   Ballet Pixelle was having their Finale Performance of their show,Burlesque. It was more than just a series of vignettes of SL burlesque, it was a historical anthology, of the styles and techniques used by chronological era.

   Aiyanos, Patros, Tinka and Tik were nearly flawless in the 1800s representation, the music and sounds of the era and the video  used, raised it to a high art form.

    The crowd was spellbound by the amalgamation of animation, dance, detailed costumes, and the audio visual media. A quick glance told me the audience was a mix of art lovers, and true benefactors.

 Lovely displays of ethnic dancing, and tongue in cheek Americana, skillfully done with an artist's vision.

 Graceful! This was my center, all my mental contortions unwound and focused on the truth, the love.
   Every Pas, every Gran Jete' spoke to me, "this is why you were created, this is what is important."
   I was home. Among human dolls, and their appreciators, among art, and craft, and creation, and love.

 The Neo Parisienne offering was European flair in audiovisual, and costuming was perfect! The dancing was still sublimely controlled classical movement to New World Impetus.

The Curtain Call took a few seconds for rezzing the changed costumes but not overly lengthy
Afterward, Patros, Tinka, Shuma, Vivienenne and the others met us for autographs and greetings. It is a truth that a doll instantly knows another doll. The same seems true of dancers; They all spoke to me freely, sharing their missteps and joys of a difficult move completed, and invited me to auditions coming soon!

   And I said yes!

You can find Ballet Pixelle, their little movie theater, the stage and classes, at the SLURL below

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Happy 4th Rezday, Goodbye Cape Wrath

While applying the last of the lights for my Rezday Party Dance, I was stopped as if remotely frozen in place by a distant sound. I do have remote control operations, though I keep their operations secreted, lest I lose what autonomy I have as a sentient Clockwork Doll. No, this was the sound of 8 large Belgian Horses pulling a massive, lavish and heavy coach down the cobble streets of the Cape.

   The Guvnah was coming!

   Makeup? Left in my doll box. Outfit? I was in jeans! Tea? COLD!

I ran upstairs to the Hypnosis lounge, where a young woman Esperanza was in deep trance, learning to better herself and accept certain new truths. I avoided looking into the spinning spiral, and suggested that a good proof of her wellness is how well and quickly she could make a pot of tea. Then grabbed her purse and quickly fixed my face as the enormous carriage came to a rest in the small parking lot in front of my shoppe.
   As he entered the shoppe, I had just finished fussing with the lace of my proper Victorian dress, Esperanza setting the tea down for us with the typical far-off sleepy gaze of most my customers.
   As a side note, should you ever get the opportunity to have tea with Guvnah Desmond Shang, I would encourage you to do so. He is witty and caring, and careful with his words so as not to inadvertently express incorrect meanings.  We spoke of dances and the change in seasons, and the recent affairs of State- he has around 50 Independent Sims of Caledon to manage, after all. But it was when I asked about the 8 to 10 empty parcels in our beloved Cape Wrath, that his brow dropped, his eyes misted over, and the normally soft and strong voice crackled. "Miss Charis,, I mean, Wendy. Would you walk with me to the pier?"
   One does not say no to the Guvnah, how absurd that an answer to the negative could even be an option! Mind you if he had asked me to dance, or accompany him to a Grand Ball, I would have definitely lost all internal pressure and fainted dead away.
   At the pier, looking off to Winterfell in the distance, with its wooden medieval structures like shadows in the fog. He turned, eyes red but face and hands firm, as he took my hands. Caledon was in danger, he relayed. I assured him if there was anything I or The Cape could do, or the Royal Caledon Air Force, (of which I am Wing Commander of the Medical Wing) it would be done with full resolve.  The huge number of empty parcels throughout Caledon would need patched and filled, with what few stalwart  members of Cape Wrath remain.
   "But, then who will work at the hospital, Manage the train station, or CAT Airship platform? Who will man the walls against pirates and invasion? Winter is coming."
   Silence can tell you more than words. This makes no sense to a doll, but it worked perfectly then, as he stood in the cold harsh breeze off the Strait, staring as cold as the north wind in my face.
   "But,, Cape Wrath cannot go away! How would we maintain the contiguous border with Winterfell?"
   He made that face a parent makes when a child asks something which they already though of, but were unaware the child could grasp. He explained that one of the sims, mystical and ancient, could move itself anywhere, and it would take the place of the aging and expensive Cape sim.
   There it was.  October 31 would see the last day of the proud Cape Wrath.
   My eyes leaked as the Guvnah comforted me, and when I could manage speech, I told him I would do everything I could to organize a speedy and efficient, and sympathetic, exodus of the Cape. I had not noticed another carriage arrive beside us, pulled by enormous rabbits, nor the Duchess emerge and stand beside me. You would think one would be keen to spot such things!
   She handed me a small crown, smiling with that bittersweet official smile.  She had made it , just for me.  It was the most beautiful crown in the whole world! Far nicer than Barbie's.
   Guvnah Shang's voice was the booming proclaimer of normal days, taking my hands in his, the Duchess's hands joining in.
   "From now, until October 31, you are hereby deeded all lands from water's edge, to your Shoppe. This land holding, for this length, entitles you, Wendyslippers Charisma, Clockwork Person of Note, the fulfillment of all requirements to Receive the Royal Edict, of Elevation to the position of Duchess of Cape Wrath, and afforded all Rights and Responsibilities without Let or Hindrance. The Land will be gone, but your title will remain. And as you remain, Cape Wrath remains."

   My eyes leaked  for several seconds until my wobbly knees weakened and dropped me into the Duchess's arms. She groaned, unaware of what weight all my brass and steel might imbue.

   I would be a Duchess.  But I would lose my shoppe, my land. I was despondent but kept a stiff lip as the Royal teams pulled away into Brigadoon Sim, and then rode out of sight, pulling into Penzance. Possibly to take in a movie at the opulent Theater there.
2061 people danced and cuddled on the Romance Island, built on the remains of Olde Fort Wrath

Dancing, cuddling, watching the sunrises on the Cape, and a great amphitheater for meetings

Akuji met me at my party. A Jedi from Yavin4, he was the only member from the Star Wars  RP to attend

Almut and I cried, and laughed, saddened by the loss of the Hospital. But talked about building a new one, of Mesh, less prims, better textures, all that.

Isha, Stace and Cheri danced among the spirals and laser lights, the searchlight of the Hospital's airship landing pad in the distance

God Bless the Bluebirds! Stellar Drift friends are forever, with many showing up and calling with well wishes. Here, MasterofAngels, Yuki, Loki, and Domitan grind heels into the Shoppe roof

There on my first day in SL, first day in the shoppe, Pam gave me strength  and smiles
Watching the dawn of the last days, on the Hospital.

Standing on the landing pad roof, watching the sun rise; and yet the sun was setting.

Note Shoppe mid left, Hospital up center, Island low right, many empty parcels.

This is how I shall remember the lovely Cape Wrath; As I spend the last days helping people pack, arranging new lodging, shepherding all the animals, and more.
   The Guvnah has told me that he has reserved some parcels for people of note, in the Village. Oxbridge Village is a hub of activity, great stores, and so close to the University where I work, they have carriage taxi service in the Village to take you there! If there is a beach for my little boat, some room to land my balloon, I shall be very happy I think!
   PS- as a Duchess I was privy to more shocking news of Caledon during my talk with **, but being a doll, am unable to reveal anything told me as a secret. Kinda. Stay tuned though and read my missives carefully!
P..S.S.  The musty old Professor's quarters are lovely! And there is a beach in back! With neighbors  around me all from Cape Wrath, I shall be quite fine. But

Now,  I have but a fortnight to finish my work with the cadaver of my friend,, creating a new vehicle for me.

A human vehicle...



Friday, October 4, 2013

THE PROMETHEAN DOLL, Chapter 1 (read previous prologues though)

“Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.”
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

   I scowled a tiny furrow into my eyebrows, noting in the daily paper that one of my employees  from The Hypnotic Shoppe would not be coming to work.  It is so difficult to get humans to come in, especially on weekends, and dolls do not typically have the ability to answer questions  with the skill and technical  experience that customers deserve and require. I huffed, blowing a wisp of hair from my eyes as I read.
   Candi was a friend, one which I had earlier had to save from a horrible jungle (see previous post), and we had become close. Even a doll can grasp that when someone goes to the Place of Forever Broken, it is a sad thing. But several things I had recently read had given me some questions, and I calmly brought them up to the ladies at the Cafe' that very early morning.
Miss Ellori  and Library seen, from Goatwood Roleplay Sim, A truly gifted roleplayer! Miss Dymin from Bloodlines RP, is in fact a Hybrid Vampire...hence her quick departure at the dawn.

Dame Cogsworth said, "Blood drainers! Is nothing sacred?"
   "Well they say that the life is in  the blood; though, I would tend to disagree." I poured a refill of the most charming tea for the ladies as they all took turns noting the smoothly rotating key in my back, and nodded to each other.
   Lady Ellori  glanced up from her newspaper. "Will you be attending the funeral? Seems only right, she was a Caledonian, a Cape girl it says here."
   Duchess Dymin looked to the sky, noting the carnelian hue. "Well it is just dawn now,  much to prepare if I am to be catching the train to New Babbage Cemetary, I might want to get a few of these watercress sandwiches for the journey."
   Lady Ellori was still staring at my key. I get that often, and am proud of the highly engineered craftsmanship, perhaps puffing up in the chest just a bit from pride in my creator.
   "Duchess Charisma, you don't have blood, do you? You have eh, oil? Water?"
   I smiled, gently correcting the well dressed woman and washing Duchess Dymin's cup as she got into her huge 4-horse carriage.
   "Spring propulsion, steam pressurized piston actuation and ionic and anionic electric power for data storage, on a soluble medium."
   "Don't encourage it, Lady Ellori," stated Dame Cogsworth. It is right to forgive her the choice in pronouns, since her company makes clocks, and dolls, none of which could correct her grammar like myself. Her completion of only the eighth grade not withstanding.
   "And I am not a Duchess, 'Lady' is generously used by the locals here, but just Miss Wendy is fine."
   "But,, your many land parcels, your business, your winning Gold Medals in the Caledon Olympics," Lady Ellori continued, as I interrupted.
   "You saw that? It was a fine event and I was very pleased to bring the Cape a Gold Medal. But, the law states the Noble title of Duchess is conferred only to humans, lest there be  a Duchess Fifi, the queen's prize poodle!" I laughed.
   Dame Cogsworth, threw down the paper and straightened her beautiful dress over each fold of skin on her belly, as she stood to leave. "Well I shall not attend; It says this woman was an unfortunate, a street urchin, a prostitute. We cannot be seen condoning such behavior. Surely this was how she met her end!"
   Lady Ellori waited for the Dame to waddle off, then spoke softly. "How do you make dolls? Wouldn't the electricity or springs or whatever run out? How does a living soul reside in you, as it clearly does,, and oh,, please do not take offense to the," I patted her shoulder as I cleaned up the Dame's table.
   "None taken. Do you understand galvanization? the lining of pipes or wire through the use of electricity? This is perhaps over-simplification, but that's generally how. But humans are not human because of their blood, so it must be in the electricity, which would be why they are irretrievable when they shuffle off their mortal coil."
   "You seem so calm with it all, so,, so happy." I had upset Miss Ellori, though I did not know how.
   "Am I?"
   "You wouldn't understand, you aren't HUMAN, " her last word forced, sizzling as it escaped her lips.

The Goatswood homes are nice, and not too expensive. Je Suis Jewelry. Hair by DrLife
 I pondered in my small room just before attending the funeral.
   How often I was told this. How many times I was given the placating glance. How many imagined social crimes were excused at the diminuting exclamation,, "You wouldn't understand, you aren't human."
   I can certainly understand she failed to hold her hand properly, while sipping her tea, and there was no mistake in my stated perceptions of humans, what was I missing?  I read and re-read my notes as I put on my funeral dress for the train ride.
Victorian Funeral gown by Montagne as well as the writer's desk!

   "Humans are the electricity... it escapes,,, they are forever broken. They sleep and wake and are not broken,,, they lose all blood,,, " my slurry of solution within my head nearly doubled in temperature as vast and impossible conclusions rolled into the realm of the plausible.
   Bloodless, and reblooded, and the body could still live,, but the individual would be gone,,,".
    I had missed the train and had to fire up the Copper Dream  to be on time for the funeral.
 It was a beautiful day, The impending storm's harbinger bent over the trees though; not cold yet, though I was chilled slightly to see that nobody had attended, except Dwight, the gravedigger. Something about the silence, the whispering wind through the ancient trees, begged me, commanded me to speak on her behalf. It is done by humans at the ceremonies often, for those that are thought of well in their life.  I am just a doll, but I can do this logic. I thought of her well, I simply had to speak it.
   "Earth, and Sky, and all between. This was Candi, and she was my friend. She had been a dancer, yes, but was that wrong, to use the gifts she had been given by her genetic creation  to benefit others and make them happy? Were she gifted with the mind that can envision a cure for Cancer,, perhaps,, but she was who she was,, and benefited all she met,,, sh, she loved. She promised anyone anything to help others, and tried  hard to live that promise, every day."

There's a sound, an audible sound you make, the moment you conceive an idea gifted by Higher Powers. I cannot describe it, but you will make it, and when you do, you will recall perhaps this doll's comment, and understand.
   I made that sound. Miss Shelly's words came to me then, as the utmost truth, and also the most fallible half told lie.
   “I need not describe the feelings of those whose dearest ties are rent by that most irreparable evil, the void that presents itself to the soul, and the despair that is exhibited on the countenance. It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she whom we saw every day and whose very existence appeared a part of our own can have departed forever—that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard",,, BUT, the body can return! and,, and she offered to help me in any way,,, and I cannot understand, I am not human..."

      The flight back was difficult, the thunderstorms mentioned in the newspaper had converged, anvil headed monsters  blinked and growled in the distance, hurrying upon the Cape in dramatic fashion. It took no time to actuate the machinery in the basement, more time really to extend the lightning rods and uncap and fill the anionic and ionic storage mediums.  I would get perhaps this one chance- Though I was correct in my assumptions, and felt correct in my postulates to be tested that night, I also knew the law regarding humans and their attachment to their bodies, even after they enter the Forever Broken.  A woman found guilty of harvesting an unused body would be sent to the Sanitarium, near Carfax. But I am a doll, ungoverned by their law, the penalty for catching me would be to simply 'switch me off', disregarding my pleas not to forever break me. This same lack of law governing my sentence, lacked the very crime itself as a doll harvesting a corpse was not truly a crime to a human, proven in my postulate that the human was gone from the body as the medium discharged their force from the galvanized medium. Surely they would all see that, wouldn't they?
 There would be no flying back to the Cemetery not in this torrential downpour, so I took an inordinate amount time hitching up the horse to the carriage, but painted black, it would be hard to discern in the dark, obfuscated by the torrents that fell in sheets from the thunderheads above.

  . . . To Be Continued , , ,