Written 8 January, 2007
Relocation
Linden Lab has relocated me.
And not just me, but Pele.
And not just Pele, but the entire Forsaken sim, lock, stock, and barrel.
Dodgeguy and Damian keyed me in. They told me LL was expanding the mainland and we would be moved on Wednesday.
“And I have six teleporters set up,” Dodge complained.
I told him I didn’t think local coordinates would change.
But you never know.
Not in Second Life.
-----
Unlike D and D, I didn’t get the message.
That’s because I’m not a member of the Forsaken homeowner’s group. I wasn’t invited. Not that I minded.
Must be those hot smoking pumice boulders that Pele periodically flings about. Or maybe they heard about the sacrifices of virgins.
But I wasn’t invited.
-----
Mini-Rant On
I detest SL groups. IMs are always popping up, asking me to come to a party or whatever—which would be fine—but then for the next ten minutes, replies come in. Every time I close the IM box, another group message trickles in. I makes it hard to watch for messages from Sweetie.
And I can’t be missing messages from Sweetie!
Mini-Rant Off
-----
Anyway, yesterday, one of the Ds—Damian, it was—IMed me and told me to look at the map. I did. And then I flew high and looked around
Forsaken was sitting alone in the middle of the ocean. The adjacent sims—Treasure Island and Forsaken Passage, and the sims to which they were attached—were gone.
Just the night before, as an experiment, I had flown four sims over to Lion Sands, where I still have space in Bill and Pam Havercamp’s beach house. But not now. Now we were truly an island. No sim on any side.
A perfectly square island floating somewhere in Dreamland.
It did give me a chance to see the actual size of a sim. It was smaller than I had thought.
----
This morning, the adjacent sims were back. Peering into the distance to the northwest, I could see the floating free pier houses on Treasure Island—what is that guy thinking, anyway?
The pier houses are empty, and 50 meters off the ground. They look rather like those spider-legged invaders from Mars in War of the Worlds.
Maybe that’s what he’s thinking.
Maybe he’s working on a script that will let them stomp all over Dreamland, wiping out the inhabitants with death rays.
-----
Photo: Truly Forsaken
Relocation
Linden Lab has relocated me.
And not just me, but Pele.
And not just Pele, but the entire Forsaken sim, lock, stock, and barrel.
Dodgeguy and Damian keyed me in. They told me LL was expanding the mainland and we would be moved on Wednesday.
“And I have six teleporters set up,” Dodge complained.
I told him I didn’t think local coordinates would change.
But you never know.
Not in Second Life.
-----
Unlike D and D, I didn’t get the message.
That’s because I’m not a member of the Forsaken homeowner’s group. I wasn’t invited. Not that I minded.
Must be those hot smoking pumice boulders that Pele periodically flings about. Or maybe they heard about the sacrifices of virgins.
But I wasn’t invited.
-----
Mini-Rant On
I detest SL groups. IMs are always popping up, asking me to come to a party or whatever—which would be fine—but then for the next ten minutes, replies come in. Every time I close the IM box, another group message trickles in. I makes it hard to watch for messages from Sweetie.
And I can’t be missing messages from Sweetie!
Mini-Rant Off
-----
Anyway, yesterday, one of the Ds—Damian, it was—IMed me and told me to look at the map. I did. And then I flew high and looked around
Forsaken was sitting alone in the middle of the ocean. The adjacent sims—Treasure Island and Forsaken Passage, and the sims to which they were attached—were gone.
Just the night before, as an experiment, I had flown four sims over to Lion Sands, where I still have space in Bill and Pam Havercamp’s beach house. But not now. Now we were truly an island. No sim on any side.
A perfectly square island floating somewhere in Dreamland.
It did give me a chance to see the actual size of a sim. It was smaller than I had thought.
----
This morning, the adjacent sims were back. Peering into the distance to the northwest, I could see the floating free pier houses on Treasure Island—what is that guy thinking, anyway?
The pier houses are empty, and 50 meters off the ground. They look rather like those spider-legged invaders from Mars in War of the Worlds.
Maybe that’s what he’s thinking.
Maybe he’s working on a script that will let them stomp all over Dreamland, wiping out the inhabitants with death rays.
-----
Photo: Truly Forsaken
No comments:
Post a Comment