…’cause I’ve been hard at work building this new bed, and I need my beauty sleep now. It’s still not a great piece, but it’s better than the previous bed, uses fewer prims, and doesn’t have floaty script words over it all the time.
I guess I haven’t mentioned that I’ve moved again, but this time it was my choice. Some of the corners and other layout factors in my old house weren’t making me happy, so I went over to a place I’ve been eyeballing — fortunately, on the same island and with the same landlord! — and the apartment I wanted was open! Not only that, but it’s L$120 less for almost the same number of prims, and I’ve actually shucked some of the prims I was consuming in the move.
I’m almost completely set up — far faster than I was doing on two-floor houses; I just need to put up some more art on the walls. Although, if anyone can point me toward a nice, animated (not with sex animations) or editable bed in Art Deco style, I would thank them deeply. And who knows? I may finally decide to throw a housewarming for once….
I’ll put together some photos over the next few days, so watch this if you’re interested.
I’ve moved again, folks — but this time it was of my own volition. I wanted higher ceilings than my old house had, and so I went around Pandora Island to the new apartment block, and snaffled a nice pad. A fireplace I can turn off and on, Venetian blinds, high ceilings, almost the same number of prims for maybe a Benjamin less — and dig the view up the coastline!
I’m hanging on to my old house for the moment, in case this doesn’t work out. But, if it does, I know a pretty nice cabin with a great landlord you could rent: L$1,000/week/450. If anybody’s interested, check back with me in about two weeks, and I could tell the landlord to release the lease on it.
I figured that, after all the work and struggle with lag I went through putting together the Insilico series, that it was time for some relaxation. So I dropped in to Fibber Magee’s for the Tuesday night céilidh. That’s me on the stool; but I got off me buns later and started rockin’ with the rest. I even met a newbie — 2 days old — named Annie Ivylord, who I took some time to talk to and answer questions. A good day and night all told.
Read Part I here….
Read Part II here….
Caution: some situations in this story, and some pictures involving nudity, should be considered NSFW/NSS
Jadzia lay curled up on the cot in the side room, seriously regretting every recent moment of her existence. This has to be the last damned time, she thought to herself as the nausea began rising up again. As she edged her head over the side of the cot to find the hurl bucket, her mind went over the past twenty-seven hours of station time….
It had been over three months since she had finally paid off the “photo-etched” skin mod she had obtained at a “black” biolab; but the attention she had hoped for from talent scouts had never come. Jadzia knew they were jaded in appetite, of course; they had seen it all and then some, it seemed, and you really had to be maybe a parsec out there now to even catch a glimpse from them, let alone get the attention of an agent. But she thought this mod would have done it for sure!
There was only one thing for it — to try again, or to go back to selling herself in a different way. Being a courtesan meant peddling her body, or at least certain portions of it, but being Shayana had paid the bills. And she had been good at it, too, pleasuring both herself and her clients, and acquiring something of a reputation for it. But you could only do so much whoring before something started seeping into your soul. Remembering the peace she had felt that night in Atonement, the abandoned church-turned-club, Jadzia’s small core of self-pride asserted itself, and she resolved to try one more time. She booked the appointment — not as obviously as calling a more reputable clinic to “set up an appointment,” of course — and showed up the night specified.
Read the rest of this entry »
Click here for Part I….
Caution: one photo below potentially NSFW/NSS
Some people felt that the life of a disc jockey — an archaic name for a job that had last seen a disc of any kind hundreds of years and a galaxy ago — was a mindless grind of cuing music files, fielding requests, and hoping that the boss would cough up the promised pittance, euphemistically referred to as “pay.”
Jadzia begged to differ, at least while the music played. To Jadzia, formerly Shayana the courtesan, the music was freedom, and the music was joy, and the music was escape from the blasted hell of the streets outside the club she worked at. She was never more at home, never more comfortable, than when she was behind the music desk, punching up songs and mixing…. Read the rest of this entry »
Okay, this is not what I had in mind when I went to try out this sleeping animation….