Written 3 January, 2007
Miles High With Sweetie
My right eyeball blew out at 300,000 meters.
OMG, I thought. Now I’ve done it! Now I’ll spend the rest of my days in a Second Life nursing home, being turned by attendants who make $3L an hour so I won’t get virtual bed sores.
But it was too late to turn back, for Sweetie had just zoomed past.
We were flying high again.
I had taken off my Tes Valentine flight ring in favor of a pair of ram horns given to me by Aardvark-Spelled-Backwards. He had actually given me two pair, so I had passed one along to Sweetie. She couldn’t utilize it properly, however, as she has a Mac and has no page up and page down keys—but Sweetie is resourceful. It didn’t take her long to change the texture of the ram horns to beautiful semi-transparent stained glass and pull something out of Inventory that gave her Godspeed. In seconds, she was at 10000 meters.
I turned up the ascent speed of the ram horns and hit page up. Soon we were at the same general altitude, ascending rapidly.
We quickly passed our 50,000 meter record.
Our chatting was sporadic, as we had to stop ascending in order to IM one another, and often our messages were preceded by multiple e’s. E is the ascent key.
“eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee93k”
“eeee87k” Darn. She was ahead of me.
“eeeeeeeeeeeeI’ll wait for you just below 100”
When one of us got too far ahead of the other, or when one of us strayed off the land (easy to tell; Hawaiian music stopped), we would teleport one another.
We were fine at 250,000 meters, but at 300,000 or so we started to go.
Before long my eyeballs were on my cheeks and my arms and legs were weirdly contracted and contorted. As we flew still higher, our necks stretched to six times their normal length and our heads flopped over every time we moved. And our hair was gone, and our shoes, and our jewelry, and most of our clothing.
Alas, it’s impossible to be glamorous above 300k.
At 5,000,000 meters, we knocked off for the night.
I was ready to stop at 1,000,000, but Sweetie wasn’t about to. She’s the only person I’ve ever met whose sense of adventure surpasses mine.
I was curious see what would happen when we returned to earth, but in the chance I had permanently damaged my avatar, and because I, too, have an indomitable spirit of adventure, I flew higher with Sweetie.
And higher.
And higher.
I love getting high with Sweetie.
-----
I don’t know how high one can go in SL—and please don’t tell me—but it seems a waste of electronic space to build an array with such a big number for vertical space. Maybe there would be room for more frigging prims on one’s land if the Lindens decreased the maximum possible altitude to something reasonable like 50,000 meters. That’s like 29 miles, high enough for low earth orbit.
-----
Back at the House of 1000 Pleasures, we seemed to be normal—but clothing and jewelry were still missing, and my necklace was mostly inside of me. So I detached everything.
Which brings me to the next entry.
-----
Photos: Chey and Sweetie with Explosive Decompression
Miles High With Sweetie
My right eyeball blew out at 300,000 meters.
OMG, I thought. Now I’ve done it! Now I’ll spend the rest of my days in a Second Life nursing home, being turned by attendants who make $3L an hour so I won’t get virtual bed sores.
But it was too late to turn back, for Sweetie had just zoomed past.
We were flying high again.
I had taken off my Tes Valentine flight ring in favor of a pair of ram horns given to me by Aardvark-Spelled-Backwards. He had actually given me two pair, so I had passed one along to Sweetie. She couldn’t utilize it properly, however, as she has a Mac and has no page up and page down keys—but Sweetie is resourceful. It didn’t take her long to change the texture of the ram horns to beautiful semi-transparent stained glass and pull something out of Inventory that gave her Godspeed. In seconds, she was at 10000 meters.
I turned up the ascent speed of the ram horns and hit page up. Soon we were at the same general altitude, ascending rapidly.
We quickly passed our 50,000 meter record.
Our chatting was sporadic, as we had to stop ascending in order to IM one another, and often our messages were preceded by multiple e’s. E is the ascent key.
“eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee93k”
“eeee87k” Darn. She was ahead of me.
“eeeeeeeeeeeeI’ll wait for you just below 100”
When one of us got too far ahead of the other, or when one of us strayed off the land (easy to tell; Hawaiian music stopped), we would teleport one another.
We were fine at 250,000 meters, but at 300,000 or so we started to go.
Before long my eyeballs were on my cheeks and my arms and legs were weirdly contracted and contorted. As we flew still higher, our necks stretched to six times their normal length and our heads flopped over every time we moved. And our hair was gone, and our shoes, and our jewelry, and most of our clothing.
Alas, it’s impossible to be glamorous above 300k.
At 5,000,000 meters, we knocked off for the night.
I was ready to stop at 1,000,000, but Sweetie wasn’t about to. She’s the only person I’ve ever met whose sense of adventure surpasses mine.
I was curious see what would happen when we returned to earth, but in the chance I had permanently damaged my avatar, and because I, too, have an indomitable spirit of adventure, I flew higher with Sweetie.
And higher.
And higher.
I love getting high with Sweetie.
-----
I don’t know how high one can go in SL—and please don’t tell me—but it seems a waste of electronic space to build an array with such a big number for vertical space. Maybe there would be room for more frigging prims on one’s land if the Lindens decreased the maximum possible altitude to something reasonable like 50,000 meters. That’s like 29 miles, high enough for low earth orbit.
-----
Back at the House of 1000 Pleasures, we seemed to be normal—but clothing and jewelry were still missing, and my necklace was mostly inside of me. So I detached everything.
Which brings me to the next entry.
-----
Photos: Chey and Sweetie with Explosive Decompression
No comments:
Post a Comment