tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58205073464554212932024-03-13T15:02:16.234+01:00Chris Chronicles Chris Chronicles is a blog about my journey through the Second Life where I recreate the pieces of my dreams in form of artistic photos.Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.comBlogger638125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-796728963704747472024-02-11T11:44:00.007+01:002024-02-11T11:44:46.229+01:00A hundred tablets for Zephyrus<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeAvBvpaCdOn8r1JeDjhihfV0b9Gt4lsfDUrNa2oUbFqHa96Ex53bS2YvD8Gz6q27RKS5Osufkp-oCWYtMCgRwyJqssk6Muv7nR-w0InQ8SJfDeBRqG1QKu2AYcd2zF1gAeX2ft1WeVuvTEUj4ZmczT579Tv0i98zVgu9YBBMn9oLDmiN9Sf1YI1Z7ed-/s1462/OldCity_032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1462" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeAvBvpaCdOn8r1JeDjhihfV0b9Gt4lsfDUrNa2oUbFqHa96Ex53bS2YvD8Gz6q27RKS5Osufkp-oCWYtMCgRwyJqssk6Muv7nR-w0InQ8SJfDeBRqG1QKu2AYcd2zF1gAeX2ft1WeVuvTEUj4ZmczT579Tv0i98zVgu9YBBMn9oLDmiN9Sf1YI1Z7ed-/w640-h394/OldCity_032.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As the
winter lingered beyond its natural course, the people of my village grew
desperate. Our village lay shrouded beneath a blanket of snow and ice. The cold
was unyielding, the snow unceasing, and the icy winds howled like a wild beast
refusing to retreat. We prayed to Boreas, the fierce god of the north wind, to
soften his grip, to no avail. His tempests continued unabated, and with each
passing day, our despair grew deeper.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It was then
that we turned our hopes to Zephyrus, the gentle west wind whose breezes were
said to usher in the spring. But he was nowhere to be found, his soothing
presence absent from the skies. The elders of the village decided that someone should
go to his realm to deliver the message personally. We crafted the clay tablets,
each carefully painted with the image of a beloved spring flower or blossom.
These were the symbols of hope, of the life that should have been awakening
under the thawing embrace of Zephyrus. I was chosen to bear these tokens
westward, to the realm of the gentle wind, where I would implore him to return
and plead with Boreas to leave us in peace.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Armed with
these tokens of our yearning, I set forth on a journey to the realm of
Zephyrus, determined to remind the god of the season to come back and to bring
spring with him. The biting winds of Boreas lashed against me as I made my way
westward, a solitary figure against the expanse of white. With each step, the
weight of the tablets was a reminder of the hope that my village had placed
upon my shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The
blizzards raged with a fury that challenged the very audacity of my quest. Yet,
as I approached the towering mountain that marked the threshold of Zephyrus'
domain, the ferocity of the storm began to wane. The snowfall eased, and the
wind's howl softened to a whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">With significant
effort, I ascended the mountain, and as I climbed higher, the grip of winter
loosened. The air grew warmer, and the snow underfoot gave way to patches of
bare rock. When at last I reached the summit, I was greeted by a sight that
took what little breath I had left away—a palace bathed in the warm glow of the
setting sun, a testament to the west wind's gentle power.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Zephyrus
himself emerged to meet me, curious to the mortal who dared to visit his realm.
I told him of our endless winter, of Boreas' relentless storms, and of our
village's pleas for the spring that seemed it would never come. Then, with
trembling hands, I presented the clay tablets, each a little canvas of longing
for the springtime.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The god of
the west wind was moved by our plight and the images of spring that we so
dearly missed. He descended the mountain with me, the tablets cradled in his
arms as if they were the most precious of treasures. Upon our return, Zephyrus
approached his brother Boreas with a tenderness that belied the might of the
gods.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Their
conversation, though inaudible to our mortal ears, unfolded with an eloquence
that the heart could understand. It was a dialogue of seasons, of the natural
order, and of the need for change. As they embraced, a smile broke the
sternness of Boreas' face—a reminder of the balance that even gods must keep.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">With a nod
that was both a farewell and a benediction, Boreas turned and retreated to his
northern realm. Zephyrus, now with a serene smile, lifted the clay tablets high
into the air and released them. They fluttered like leaves on the wind, and
wherever they landed, life burst forth. Flowers sprang from the cold earth,
unfurling their petals as if to greet the god's return.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In moments,
the landscape transformed, from a tapestry of snow to a mosaic of vibrant
colors and fragrances. The spring had finally arrived, brought forth by the
hands of a god who had been reminded of the beauty and hope that his breezes
carried.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Our village
rejoiced; our spirits rekindled by the sight of the flowers that mirrored those
upon the tablets. It was a spring that would be remembered through the ages—a
testament to the belief that even the smallest voices can reach the heavens,
and that even the mightiest of gods can heed the call of the human heart.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i>The realm of Zephyrus is depicted with:</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>1. <b>Azores</b>, the new landscaping tool by <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">FANATIK ARCHITECTURE</a>: two huge rocks (plus two mirrored ones) to create a picturesque landscape. With their size of 40 x 31 x 17 and 56 x 25 x 14 and the prim count from 56 to 61, they are rather reserved for bigger parcels. However, using them on a skybox can turn a flat surface into a dramatic cliff with a couple of clicks. Although, I'd advice a minimum128 x 128 m space.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>2.<b> Roman Temple</b> by <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">FANATIK ARCHITECTURE</a> - a great piece of architecture to bring a Roman vibe to the parcel. It's 12 x 22 x 16 with 65 prim count. Could serve as just an exterior, but bring a statue of the God or Goddess inside along with some offers and braziers to turn it into a fully functional temple.</i></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-46645122950416059172024-01-13T23:34:00.002+01:002024-01-13T23:34:44.991+01:00 Another Luna Moth Invitation: Mysteries of Gulben<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUuZE_RsYxcrmPMKzjKuzAzlGdeZFVUVwad7Bv0BHWRhnVbnOhuvuwusVreSBJiqJtKEijNHVLD2h51PRyLWfL93Jj28opqPLG6aszHxz9HkuMXITr-hcYH_Yu0Mk5T0tBSlLyx8u5btT7oK8I0kRgvtx0LmR0Ky73vjY4QoHgOLXFfJeMJUjC2TGr261/s1600/Stair-Flora.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="1600" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUuZE_RsYxcrmPMKzjKuzAzlGdeZFVUVwad7Bv0BHWRhnVbnOhuvuwusVreSBJiqJtKEijNHVLD2h51PRyLWfL93Jj28opqPLG6aszHxz9HkuMXITr-hcYH_Yu0Mk5T0tBSlLyx8u5btT7oK8I0kRgvtx0LmR0Ky73vjY4QoHgOLXFfJeMJUjC2TGr261/w640-h370/Stair-Flora.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">An envelope decorated with a botanical sketch
instantly drew my attention amid a pile of otherwise ordinary mail. Inside was
an invitation, either exquisitely handwritten or a superb imitation, printed on
thick watercolor paper. I was invited to a unique Botanical Market, a rare
opportunity to acquire exotic, magical plants. Considering my limited gardening
success, which extended only to sustaining a few resilient cacti, this seemed
like an odd offer. However, the invitation was so beautifully crafted, especially
the Luna Moth illustration, that it felt less like a summons to a market and
more like an invitation to an intriguing adventure.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The address led me to "Gulben," a
building that appeared to have leaped straight out of the 1960s. It combined
the architectural essence of a science laboratory with a cinema theater,
characterized by its solid concrete structure, glass doors set in metal frames,
and wood-paneled decorations. Yet, despite its grandeur, it appeared forsaken.
Inside, the air was stale, and the silence was almost total. Checking the
invitation again to confirm the date, I ventured further, drawn upstairs by a
mix of curiosity and unease.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The silence deepened here, too profound for a
bustling market. I nudged open a wooden door, half-expecting to find more
emptiness. Instead, I felt a sudden sensation of falling as my foot found only
air. The feeling was fleeting, and I steadied myself, assuming it was a brief
spell of dizziness. The room behind the door appeared to be a small closet. When
I turned to leave, the scene beyond the door had astonishingly transformed. The
once-desolate stairway was now lavishly decorated with flowers in pots of all
shapes and sizes, surrounded by a crowd that could only be customers observing
the plants. The rich scents of fresh coffee and floral greenery filled the air,
mingling with the soft rustling of voices.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">How... Wait… I was confused for a moment but
then had a flash of insight. Of course! There were just two similar buildings
connected through a gateway, which I had mistaken for a closet. I had entered
via the wrong, empty one. And when I thought I had turned back to leave the
closet, I actually went through its second door into this building. Let me
check it... I turned back, attempting to go through the closet again, but in
the opposite direction this time, only to find the door I had come through had vanished.
That was an unexpected turn of events. The only way to go was downstairs.
Descending the stairs, I examined the flowers lining each step. Surprisingly,
they looked quite ordinary, without any hint of exotic magic. No mysterious
glows or enchanting particles. Could they be concealing something more?
Intrigued, I reached out to a pomegranate, half-expecting to find hidden eyes
or teeth on the other side of the fruit.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As my hand reached out towards the pomegranate,
it was halted by the firm yet gentle grip of an elegantly dressed lady.
"You must be new here. It's your first time, isn't it?" she asked,
her smile radiating a warm, knowing amusement. Puzzled, I replied, "How
could you tell?" She chuckled softly. "Only a newcomer would be so
bold with the pomegranates." Her words piqued my curiosity. "What's
wrong with them?" I inquired. "Ah," she said with a hint of mystery
in her voice, "do you know the story of Persephone? How eating just a few
pomegranate seeds bound her to the Underworld?" I looked around, slightly
unsettled, half-expecting the surroundings to morph into something more
sinister. "We're not in the Underworld, are we?" I asked half-jokingly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She flashed another enchanting smile. "Not
quite, we are somewhere in between the worlds. Remember how you fell through
the portal? That's no ordinary closet you walked through." Her explanation
left me more bewildered than before. The closet was a portal? To where exactly?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"Well, since you've come through the
portal, you're indeed invited," she continued. "But, my dear, you're
quite the mindless newbie. It seems you're the newest pupil of our brotherhood,
here to acquire your starter's set. You'll need the first-year student's seed
set and this purple rose," she gestured towards a delicate rose in a jade
vase, "which will guide you through your first semester of
herbology."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The information overwhelmed me.
"Wait," I stammered, "student, herbology, guiding plants... what
are you talking about?" She looked at me with a hint of surprise in her
eyes. "Haven't you seen Harry Potter? This place is somewhat akin to
Diagon Alley for you. Oh dear, they've sent you the market invitation before
your admission letter!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Her reference to Diagon Alley surprisingly shed
light on the situation. It was as if the world of cinema had prepared me for
this very moment. Confusion still swirled within me, but her words began to
weave a sense of understanding.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"Don't worry," she reassured me,
"I'll help you with your purchases, and then we'll seek some clarification
from your faculty staff."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She directed my attention to the purple rose.
"Handle her gently; roses here are quite temperamental. Treat her with
care, and she'll be an invaluable guide for your upcoming semester. For today,
let's leave the stairway plants be. Now, off to the alchemist's corner for your
magic seed starter set."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Her guidance, though surreal, felt oddly
comforting. I followed her, still processing the fantastical turn my day had
taken, cradling the purple rose and stepping into a world that was an
extraordinary blend of magic and reality.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">---</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>This experience was possible with:</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">:FANATIK:</a> GULBEN V1.2 B</b> - a new product in a FANATIK shop, a huge building that requires 60 x 61 x 14,5 m of land and 237 prims. It offers a great choice for a museum, an exposition or even a secret hospital where people are held captive for the secret experiments. All behind the façade of an innocent administrative building with the look of the 60's.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Essences/163/93/22">*LODE*</a></b> - different pieces of flower decor. Those are really great cut flowers and head pieces. The best florist of SL.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Apple%20Fall/106/193/55"><b>Apple Fall</b></a> - the work by Apple doesn't require introduction. Just a must to visit place for home and garden decoration. His Plant stands I used are perfect to display the cut flowers. Some of his flowers I used are Baby Pomegranate Spray - Charred Pot, White Iris, Single Cut Hydrangea.</i></p><p></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-58329537502079480482023-12-26T17:47:00.007+01:002023-12-26T17:50:55.424+01:00Beneath the Stained Glass: A Tale of Marysville<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduaj6j12AUZsd3nUJ80MbGVDdG9kLJQnhbQ8LBPvX_LCUWFdP-qcfTqM9mJvig-PAS7KW5mOsogoSjGXrZUKwXMwt4E89MH32q-ceiTR-K8Kqdl3fLRqSHiAbRBvift76NLtHHelsqe6Yl7upgKYzFtUlBmr3Iiu6J83gKLD5NR_mFJ7oOw7rerobSIqt/s1403/OldCity_030.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1403" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduaj6j12AUZsd3nUJ80MbGVDdG9kLJQnhbQ8LBPvX_LCUWFdP-qcfTqM9mJvig-PAS7KW5mOsogoSjGXrZUKwXMwt4E89MH32q-ceiTR-K8Kqdl3fLRqSHiAbRBvift76NLtHHelsqe6Yl7upgKYzFtUlBmr3Iiu6J83gKLD5NR_mFJ7oOw7rerobSIqt/w640-h410/OldCity_030.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><a href="https://chris-sanders-chronicles.blogspot.com/2023/12/scriptorium-secrets.html">Previous part</a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As I
crossed the threshold into Marysville, the familiar embrace of childhood
nostalgia wrapped around me like a warm blanket. The town was a hive of
activity, buzzing with the preparations for the annual Christmas Market, a
tradition that had always set my heart racing with excitement as a child. The
square brimmed with makeshift stalls, each a trove of treasures waiting to be
discovered by bargain-hunting citizens and wide-eyed kids alike. My memories
were sweetened by the thought of candied apples, fluffy marshmallows, and the
legendary pies baked by Mrs. Croft, whose recipe was whispered to be touched by
magic itself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Strolling
down the central street, adorned with festive cheer, I caught a glimpse of
something that stopped me in my tracks—a piece of pastry that looked exactly as
I remembered it. Mrs. Croft’s Pie? It was impossible, wasn't it? Mrs. Croft had
been a fixture of my childhood, and her pies were legendary. Compelled by
curiosity and a craving I hadn’t felt in years, I entered the quaint café.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The warmth
of the interior was matched by the welcome from a young woman with sparkling green
eyes. As I settled at a table, she caught the direction of my gaze and chimed,
" The pie has caught your eye, I see." My surprise at its presence
after so many years spilled into our conversation, and upon my inquiry, I
learned of Mrs. Croft's passing. A tinge of sorrow crept in, yet there was
comfort in knowing her craft lived on as her secrets passed to her daughter who
now baked with the same love and mystical touch.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As the
green eyed fairy placed the steaming coffee and a generous slice of the pie
before me, her curiosity bubbled forth, questioning the purpose of my visit. In
my reply, I skirted around the true nature of my adventures, instead invoking
the sweet, nostalgic pull of Christmas memories and a desire to revisit the
castle ruins—a site that had once been the playground of my imagination and the rumors of secret brotherhoods and midnight
rituals.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Her
response jolted me from my reverie. The castle that had loomed so large and
menacing in my childhood, the source of countless dares and sleepless nights,
had shed its cloak of shadows. The once-abandoned relic was now reborn as a
luxurious hotel, its halls no longer filled with the echoes of clandestine
gatherings but with the laughter and chatter of guests. The news left me adrift
in a sea of emotions; the raw edge of anticipation that had accompanied
thoughts of tiptoeing through its forbidden corridors was dulled. Where once
there stood a bastion of the unknown, there was now a welcoming entrance, ready
to receive a guest in place of an intrepid explorer. Yet, even as this new
reality settled in, the allure of the castle’s whispered secrets beckoned me
still, promising that even behind the refurbished facades, the heart of mystery
continued to beat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Savoring
the last morsel of Mrs. Croft's pie, a flavor that bridged past and present, I
left the café behind and walked toward the castle. The giant
building that once was the source if my nightmares now twinkled invitingly with
Christmas adornments, its silhouette softened by the merry lights.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Upon
entering the grand lobby, I approached the reception where the clerk was busily
arranging room keys. He glanced up, and our eyes met—an instant of recognition
flickering in his. "May I assist you with a booking, sir?" he
inquired, his tone professional yet warm.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"Yes,
I'd like a room for the night," I responded, presenting my card for
identification. As he registered my details, his demeanor shifted from
courteous to intrigued. "Ah, you're a native of Marysville, aren't you?
Your name rings a bell." I nodded, confirming my roots in this town.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">His eyes
brightened with the spark of an idea. "Sir, given your connection to our
town, it would be our honor to offer you something special." There was a
pause, a breath of suspense, before he continued. "We have a tower suite
available—it's not just any room, but a special place that embodies the
castle's history. The furnishings are originals, restored with care. The bed
itself was once the master's own. It’s a living piece of history."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The
surprise must have shown on my face, as the clerk smiled knowingly, pleased
with the effect of his revelation. "Of course, there's no extra charge for
this upgrade. It's part of our hospitality for those with ties to the castle's
legacy."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The offer
was as unexpected as it was irresistible, so I accepted with a grateful nod and
got the key to the suite in my hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As I walked
toward the tower suite, anticipation quickened my steps. The castle's
transformation was complete, but perhaps, within the walls of this special
room, I would find the spirit of the past still lingering, a silent companion
to my solitary exploration.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The room exuded
a sense of grandeur and luxury</span>. A huge gothic bed, crowned with plush
bedding and ornate pillows, stood like a throne of dreams. A grandfather clock
ticked a steady rhythm, and a vase of lilies-of-the-valley was filling the air
with the floral scent of spring. How could they get those flowers in the middle of winter? The room's centerpiece, a grand stained glass window, painted the
walls with colored light. A cozy sitting area invited me to ponder over the
bottles that seemed to contain more than mere liquor.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The sense of bygone splendor was
overwhelming. Every corner whispered of ancient secrets, and the grandeur of
the room was a living homage to the castle's illustrious past. My gaze
wandered, absorbing each detail until it landed upon an old bookcase nestled in
the shadow. It was an impressive collection of old books.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Compelled
by an unseen force, I found myself drawn to the shelves, my fingers tracing the
leather-bound spines as I read the titles. There, amidst the chronicles and
memoirs, was a history of Marysville. With reverence, I drew the tome from its
place, feeling the weight of the town's story in my hands. Flipping through the
pages, my pulse quickened, each word, each image, anchoring me deeper into the
narrative of the town I thought I knew.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Then, as if
destined by the fates, a peculiar title caught my eye—“The Brotherhood of the
Luna Moth.” A chill ran down my spine, for this was not just any legend; it was
the one that had fueled my childhood adventures and haunted my dreams. The
cover seemed to pulse under my touch, an invitation to uncover the truths that
lay dormant within its pages. With bated breath, I opened to the first chapter,
and as I did, the air in the room seemed to grow charged with anticipation.
This was no ordinary evening; it was the beginning of an adventure that
promised to bridge the gap between the whispered myths of Marysville and the
tangible, pulsating heartbeat of its reality.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><u>The Tower Suit is decorated with:</u></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Varonis/162/131/1001">VARONIS:</a><br />VARONIS - Sombre Skybox</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Death%20Row/128/129/21">Death Row Designs:</a><br />DRD, Mystic Bastion, bastion Bed</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Vagrant%20and%20Zerkalo/33/136/1511">[ zerkalo ]:</a><br />[ zerkalo ] Emilia Bed</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Apple%20Fall/47/129/29">Apple Fall:</a><br />West Village Eleanora Bedside Table - Chalkboard<br />Apple Fall Oxford Wingback Chair<br />Apple Fall Carter Lamp - Black<br />Apple Fall Whisky Decanter<br />Apple Fall Argentinian Malbec<br />Apple Fall Wine Glasses<br />Apple Fall Harrogate Grandfather Clock<br /><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Fancy%20Decor/155/109/26">Fancy Decor:</a><br />Fancy Decor: Spencer Lamp<br />Fancy Decor: Rameau Side Table (black)<br />Fancy Decor: Printemps Mirror (antique silver)</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Motherland/165/64/4001">NOMAD:</a><br />NOMAD // Lily of the Valley Vase<br />NOMAD // Icicles Horizontal C</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-14013152150926667242023-12-18T00:08:00.008+01:002023-12-18T00:08:53.880+01:00It's just a yellow lemon tree<p><br /></p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWxotv5we_UC4wAvpw610t6tw-EBNYnK1ulXZGeczrk3r2XjZ1OYpqUYLjI43caXWUvSockinl76pvh5i7t08htzU0LpUluw4BTuEzgUEkVX6Zxgmbll0M9n2JZumv-MCqzEosAQ8T2W4786ls3pEr2IXHhIonADlem6CYOOLlAMFRvs1LukJYgOxApbw/s1412/OldCity_029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1412" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWxotv5we_UC4wAvpw610t6tw-EBNYnK1ulXZGeczrk3r2XjZ1OYpqUYLjI43caXWUvSockinl76pvh5i7t08htzU0LpUluw4BTuEzgUEkVX6Zxgmbll0M9n2JZumv-MCqzEosAQ8T2W4786ls3pEr2IXHhIonADlem6CYOOLlAMFRvs1LukJYgOxApbw/w640-h408/OldCity_029.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As I stood
before the most underwhelming sight of my life, the legendary source of eternal
youth, I couldn't help but feel a bit cheated. Here I was, expecting the sort
of dramatic scenery you'd find on the cover of a fantasy novel, and instead, I
got a scene that wouldn't look out of place in a suburban park. A waterfall, a
brook, some rocks, and a lemon tree that was supposedly the fabled Tree of
Life. Not a single golden fruit in sight. Not even a glimpse of divine glow. And
that other tree, the one with white blossoms, was that the Tree of Death? It
looked more like it belonged in a florist's spring collection.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Above me, a
marble sphinx statue gazed down, its expression a mix of boredom and smugness.
"Seriously?" I muttered. "No fire-breathing dragon, no mystical
elf, just a statue?" I expected no answer, of course. Statues don't talk.
Except, apparently, this one did.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Its lips
twitched. I blinked. A trick of the light? Then, a sound like laughter, weaving
through the splash of water. I spun around, half-expecting to find a hidden
crowd of pranksters. But no, it was just me and the sphinx, who seemed to find
my confusion amusing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"Yes,
you start to understand the game," a voice echoed in my mind, unmistakably
the sphinx's. "Retrieve water from the source of life. But be warned,
approach from one side to gain the elixir of life, yet approach from the other,
and you will find yourself with the most potent potion of instant death. Just
choose the right side. A simple choice, yet not so simple."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I eyed the
paths to the left and right of the brook. "That's it? No epic quest, no
heroic battles, just a left or right decision?" I scoffed. "You've
got to be kidding me."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The sphinx
chuckled again. "Oh, young seeker, sometimes the greatest challenges are
the simplest ones. And beware, the trees are merely trees. This is a game of
chance, a coin toss between life and eternal sleep."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Standing
there, I felt like a contestant on the world's most existential game show. Was
this some cosmic joke? The wisdom of the ancients reduced to a 50/50 gamble?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Then it hit
me. This was the lesson. Life isn't a neatly laid out adventure with clear
signs and predictable outcomes. It's a series of choices, each with its own
risks and uncertainties. The wisdom wasn't in finding the right path but in
making a choice and embracing its consequences, whatever they may be.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">With a
shrug and a wry smile, I chose my path. Left or right? A sudden realization
struck me. The sphinx had said, "Just choose the right side. Right!"
Could the answer really be that straightforward? The enveloping silence offered
no clues. Approaching the waterfall from the right, I cautiously filled my
flask with its water. Had I overlooked something? No time for second guesses—it
was now or never. I took a sip, and... nothing happened.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"And
here is your reward," the familiar voice spoke in my mind once more.
"Now, you shall live long enough to understand whether the gift of eternal
life is truly a blessing or the worst curse imaginable." The sphinx's
laughter rang out, sounding like thousands of tiny bells, a melodious yet
ominous finale to my quest.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i><u>This experience is made with:</u></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">FANATIK</a> Architecture to build the rocky landscape</b></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">:Fanatik Architecture:</a></b> WATERFALL set</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">:Fanatik Architecture:</a></b> RIVER BED set (Straight and Turn R are used)</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">:FANATIK:</a> </b>ROCK BOULDERS set (16 boulders in 5 textures to bring variations in a rocky landscape)</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Parts of Grotto set are used together with the Cliff covers set</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i><b>Trees by <a href="https://goo.gl/KLjW5W">Little Branch</a>:</b></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>LB_BloomingTree{Lavender}Animated</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>LB_LemonTreeV1</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>LB_PoplarTree.v2{Animated}*4Seasons</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Wooden%20Bay/36/123/23">22769</a> </b>- Sphinx Statue White Marble</i></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-22676906036793966922023-12-13T20:42:00.004+01:002023-12-13T20:46:49.615+01:00From Dreamscape to Landscape: My Go-To Landscaping Tools in Second Life<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5H3Ghv4xbjx8YhgkhpX3suedxkfFvTWW_TOkk9mHfZO1HqCpMtba4RZfU9uMeg4jHEe15P6Y2kW5fu7fgU8_NfBCik-OwYAsJ_Z5hZtKPSryK-nBtkUv_fxi24wKBuXZN1jbzm-8_d1AIi3orEZANeXfZptfCsiY8n9XK-aUmkZX92sScAhCK7USWlUQc/s1353/FANATIK-Landscaping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1353" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5H3Ghv4xbjx8YhgkhpX3suedxkfFvTWW_TOkk9mHfZO1HqCpMtba4RZfU9uMeg4jHEe15P6Y2kW5fu7fgU8_NfBCik-OwYAsJ_Z5hZtKPSryK-nBtkUv_fxi24wKBuXZN1jbzm-8_d1AIi3orEZANeXfZptfCsiY8n9XK-aUmkZX92sScAhCK7USWlUQc/w640-h426/FANATIK-Landscaping.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Transforming
the Skybox into a Mountain Retreat</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Landscaping
in Second Life (SL) presents unique challenges, especially when it comes to
skybox environments. Here, you don't have the luxury of natural terrain;
instead, you're starting with a bare, open square suspended in the air. The
task? Transforming this blank canvas into a rich, earthy landscape. Thankfully,
the creativity and craftsmanship of several talented SL designers make this
daunting task not only achievable but also enjoyable.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">FANATIK</a>:
Crafting the Perfect Terrain<o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">At the
forefront of my landscaping toolkit is <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">FANATIK</a>, led by the innovative Kendra
Zurak. <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">FANATIK</a> excels in creating versatile landscaping pieces, such as rocks,
cliffs, paths, and houses that span various historical periods, including Roman
and medieval designs.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">For my
latest project, I envisioned a mountainous landscape complete with a dell and a
secluded house perched on a hilltop, evoking a sense of solitude at the world's
edge. <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/131/135/22">FANATIK</a>'s latest offering, the '<a href="https://marketplace.secondlife.com/p/FANATIK-Cliff-Covers-NG-rock-prefab-sim-building-kit-mesh-with-materials/24475554">Cliff Covers</a>,' was a game-changer for
this vision. This set includes six distinct covers with impressively realistic
rock textures (offering two variations for each of the three panel types), two
platforms for crafting a plateau, and even a ramp (plus its mirror version) for
easy ascent – no climbing required! The included texture HUD, featuring six
textures and a snow-laden version for each, allows for tremendous
customization. Surrounded by these panels, a skybox is easily transformed into
a mountainous dell or valley, all depending on your parcel's size.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/HappyMood/88/92/22">HPMD</a>'s
Cliff Hills: Adding Life to the Landscape<o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Another
essential in my landscaping arsenal is <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/HappyMood/88/92/22">HPMD</a>'s 'Cliff Hills' by Sasaya Kayo.
These pieces wonderfully break up the rocky monotony, creating fertile ground
amidst the stone for plants to thrive. While plants in SL don't need fertile
soil, incorporating these elements significantly enhances the landscape's
realism. I love combining cliffs A and B, resizing them for height variation,
to make a more natural, undulating terrain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Heart%201/124/125/29">Heart</a>: The
Essence of Greenery<o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">No
landscape is truly complete without lush vegetation, and for this, I turn to
<a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Heart%201/124/125/29">Heart</a> by Lilith Heart. Her Chestnut and Ash trees are staples in almost all my
projects, bringing an authentic touch of nature to the scene. And the flowers –
if you dream of a vibrant SL garden, it's <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Heart%201/124/125/29">Heart</a>'s wild flora that brings it to
life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><b>Honorable
Mention: <a href="https://marketplace.secondlife.com/stores/17609">alirium</a>'s Dwarf Forest<o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Lastly, a
shoutout to a classic – the 'Dwarf Forest' by <a href="https://marketplace.secondlife.com/stores/17609">alirium</a> (Alir Flow). Although she
seems to have stepped back from the SL scene, her creations are still on the
Marketplace, continuing to enrich landscapes across the virtual world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><b>Final
Thoughts: Crafting a Secluded Sanctuary<o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">And so, the
vision comes to life... a solitary haven, a home nestled atop the hill (<i><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Apple%20Fall/47/129/29">Apple Fall's</a> New Gatekeepers' Lodge</i>), gazing
into the infinity. Below, a quaint dell offers a serene escape, a hidden nook
amidst the rugged cliffs to retreat from the real world's hustle and bustle.
Another dream realized, another piece of paradise skillfully woven into the
fabric of Second Life. It's more than just landscaping; it's creating a
personal sanctuary where every element tells a story of escape, peace, and
beauty.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-55056248769331539502023-12-01T17:26:00.000+01:002023-12-01T17:26:10.649+01:00Scriptorium Secrets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV0AFpVb8WiPrin4ycYQ1W0oFSpnw94HZwAE0eLTvXZ-BZS43qVvVEnDWorp304zaDiKi_Meto7PKiLCadUBA_9HRTtR6ZbBh2OMMgg8mm8p_WZnsdnT_HCzL54lwdLNLpNRPEYoVGAXxyTwxlhIIFKSpyndtHhcJYAq7o4TtbtWUDC45OfLbi-aY0i8oT/s1411/OldCity_021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1411" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV0AFpVb8WiPrin4ycYQ1W0oFSpnw94HZwAE0eLTvXZ-BZS43qVvVEnDWorp304zaDiKi_Meto7PKiLCadUBA_9HRTtR6ZbBh2OMMgg8mm8p_WZnsdnT_HCzL54lwdLNLpNRPEYoVGAXxyTwxlhIIFKSpyndtHhcJYAq7o4TtbtWUDC45OfLbi-aY0i8oT/w640-h408/OldCity_021.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><a href="https://chris-sanders-chronicles.blogspot.com/2023/11/shadows-and-spirits-moths-message.html">Previous part</a>.</p><p>Warm aromatic tea was slowly bringing me back to the world of the living, banishing the chilling remnants of the spiritual séance. Wilfred, the esoteric shop's owner with eyes gleaming with untold knowledge, leaned forward. “Were the spirits generous with their wisdom?” he asked.</p><p>I exhaled a forlorn breath as the shadows of confusion still clung to my thoughts. “They spoke in enigmas, leaving me adrift in a sea of riddles. All paths seem to intertwine with the elusive Luna Moth and a forgotten castle of my childhood lands, surrounded by rumors of a secret Brotherhood.”</p><p>Wilfred hummed. “Fascinating,” he murmured before addressing his companion, “What of you, Zelda? Does the Luna Moth ring a bell?” Lady Zelda could only offer a contemplative frown and a shake of her head. But then, as if struck by a silent bolt of inspiration, her eyes glimmered. “Perhaps the library shall unveil the obscured,” she suggested with a hint of intrigue.</p><p>“Is he prepared to commune with the library?” Wilfred pondered aloud in a voice filled with a blend of concern and curiosity.</p><p>“Only the library can decide, you know,” Zelda responded in a whisper.</p><p>Their discourse about the library, as if it pulsed with life, piqued my curiosity and twined it with unease. Was this sanctuary of books yet another enigmatic spirit I was to encounter?</p><p>“Our humble shop has a library, small in size but vast in the secrets it cradles,” Wilfred said. “It is very eager to offer help to those who seek wisdom and kind to those burdened by doubts.”</p><p>Their words, weaving the library as a sentient entity, left me tethered between doubt and yearning. The spiritual séance's echoes made me wary of another encounter with the unknown. Yet, as Wilfred guided me to my feet, and Zelda relieved me of my teacup, a current of destiny pulled me forward.</p><p>The door I was facing looked very common, promising nothing beyond the ordinary. But Wilfred's knowing smile and gentle nod spoke volumes. “The deepest of secrets are often hidden in plain sight, safeguarded by the veil of the mundane,” he whispered, as if imparting an ancient truth.</p><p>The room behind the door was anything but ordinary — a grand scriptorium carved from massive grey boulders. Gothic arches vaulted above, cradling the whispers of ages in their embrace. Each candle, a sentinel of flickering light, cast a soft glow upon endless rows of timeworn books. This was no mere cellar but a cathedral of knowledge, where every book page seemed to breathe with the pulse of hidden wisdom. The library, as alive as any spirit, awaited, ready to divulge its secrets to those brave enough to ask the right questions.</p><p>The hush of the library was broken only by the softest of murmurs, as if the books themselves were attempting to impart their ancient tales. I wandered through, feeling the weight of countless unseen gazes, sensing an anticipation that clung to the air, awaiting my next move. My fingers grazed the bindings in reverence, stopping at a volume clad in light green, its texture reminiscent of the delicate wings of the Luna Moth. The touch was a balm to my senses, compelling me to cradle the book in my hands and peer within.</p><p>To my astonishment, the pages before me were pristine, like a canvas devoid of ink, much like a travel journal awaiting the stories of the road. Disappointment tinged my spirit, yet as I moved to return the book to its brethren, a single card dropped to the ground like a fallen leaf. Bending to retrieve it, I found myself ensnared by the image it bore—a photograph of the Luna Moth Castle, silhouetted against a grandiose Full Moon, a sentinel over my long-abandoned hometown.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg766XQxGUxMeP2MjvS_DJ32ZTKOgl_7HmNzBOKcQNRFDZoeQe2AUu-_hIvxJIINYfdA01LrfgBKrZELq2TXHEgrQSzCK4_Ev3UAYVmRj7ruOcJrDgfUggnk-w8-xRXK9bkBh0f0dFSGImIC5rjQkWeYOCb35tlPuykHTHcJF1ynjTEhZgEUwYAVIb_5r-O/s1398/THeCastle.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1398" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg766XQxGUxMeP2MjvS_DJ32ZTKOgl_7HmNzBOKcQNRFDZoeQe2AUu-_hIvxJIINYfdA01LrfgBKrZELq2TXHEgrQSzCK4_Ev3UAYVmRj7ruOcJrDgfUggnk-w8-xRXK9bkBh0f0dFSGImIC5rjQkWeYOCb35tlPuykHTHcJF1ynjTEhZgEUwYAVIb_5r-O/w640-h412/THeCastle.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>In that moment, clarity pierced the veils of mystery. The path of my fate demanded a pilgrimage to the place of my origins, to the very castle that now beckoned from the photograph. Resolute, I made for the exit where Wilfred and Zelda awaited.</p><p>“I perceive you've found a treasure,” Wilfred remarked, as he nodded towards the book I had unwittingly claimed.</p><p>A flush of apology warmed my cheeks. “Forgive me, I must return it to its place,” I started, but Wilfred's hand rose gently.</p><p>“No, let it accompany you. It seems it has chosen to be the vessel for the chronicles of your imminent odyssey,” he declared with a wisdom that bordered on the prophetic. The book, once empty, now promised to be filled with the narrative of my impending journey.</p><p><i>For this experience, I used the some items from the Bloodcroft Castle set by <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Death%20Row/116/205/22">Death Row Designs</a>.</i></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-3367073216733489012023-11-27T22:29:00.003+01:002023-11-27T22:34:10.389+01:00The Blue Frost Chateau<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsv6N81YPwr13Bn_pVeOu5ohp81kNmPQrPrBYwmcDgHyBxBSVo8wSntgTscnRJfZmaKujv_vMs6S3H4HoXRn_O1IDZsRPzqbuB_VwfJduD3MC31OCt6EBUq34oY1T9WuidBKYCVRQUVYHdd4X9PWkrU-UFonqllya9ufxTZA366bDL7bdvsKhi9twKZHB/s1346/BlueCalcite.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1346" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsv6N81YPwr13Bn_pVeOu5ohp81kNmPQrPrBYwmcDgHyBxBSVo8wSntgTscnRJfZmaKujv_vMs6S3H4HoXRn_O1IDZsRPzqbuB_VwfJduD3MC31OCt6EBUq34oY1T9WuidBKYCVRQUVYHdd4X9PWkrU-UFonqllya9ufxTZA366bDL7bdvsKhi9twKZHB/w640-h428/BlueCalcite.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The end of
November is the time when the golden hues of autumn are supposed to yield to
winter's embrace, yet we haven’t seen frost or smelled the snow. The city,
cloaked in the remnants of Halloween, clung to the dark and the damp throughout
those short and sullen days. The vibrancy of fall leaves, however, offered some
consolation for the absence of snowflakes. I longed for the silent serenity of
a winter's tale, the kind that Christmas whispers into the eager ears of those
who believe. But I chided myself; one must not pout over seasons. The spirit of
fall was still alive, and I resolved to revel in its lingering enchantment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I heard of
Salem's peculiar celebration—the decennial of a historical reenactment, a true
spectacle known as the witch hunt. They had resurrected an entire village from
the whispers of the 17th century, where echoes of the past invited the brave to
partake in trials and quests, to unveil the shrouded mysteries of a time
steeped in shadows and superstition. An event very tempting to visit, but my
fantasy had to face the hard reality first. As fate would have it, no place to
stay was available within the village or in the vicinity. Even the motels were
full. As my search for a hearth to warm my adventures proved fruitless, the
witch hunt began to look like a tale I was not meant to partake in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">But then,
as if by magic, a white envelope arrived. Its message was clear and intriguing:
“Your winter fairy tale starts at the Blue Frost Chateau,” signed by Mrs. Frost.
Enclosed was a brochure of the hotel with a stunning picture of a lobby that
looked like a slice of winter itself. The hotel was nestled in the heart of a blue
calcite cave, where the stone's soft translucency and subtle blue hue created a
vivid illusion of ice.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Upon
entering the lobby of the Blue Frost Chateau, one is immediately transported
into the pages of a winter fable,” the brochure promised. “The cavernous space,
bathed in the pale blue light reflecting from the calcite walls, glistens like
the interior of an ice palace. Art Nouveau lamps cast a warm glow against the
cool backdrop with their light playing off the intricate patterns of frost that
seem to adorn every surface. The furniture, upholstered in hues of white and
silver, mimics the frost outside, offering a throne-like seat to any guest who
wishes to bask in the wintry splendor. In the heart of the room, an art deco
fireplace crackles with a welcoming fire, its flames dancing merrily, a beacon
of warmth in the chiseled elegance of the icy domain. Here, in this grand
entrance to the Chateau, the enchantment of winter reigns eternal, inviting all
who enter to become part of its everlasting story.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The Chateau
looked like a gateway to another world, a place where every guest could don the
cloak of a hero in their own winter saga. The brochure featured a picture of
Mrs. Frost, who looked like the Snow Queen herself, inviting guests to her
crystalline court. Her eyes seemed aloof, but to the true believer, they issued
a hidden challenge. A shiver of thrill, not of cold, danced up my spine as I
pondered the promise of adventure. The story of Mrs. Frost was as intriguing as
her appearance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Her
lineage, once ostracized from Salem on accusations of witchcraft, had avoided
the town for generations. Yet, as Salem sought to mend the wounds of history
with truth and recompense, she was offered an honored place in the town of her
ancestors. Mrs. Frost chose not to abandon the realm she had built, the Blue
Frost Chateau. Nonetheless, she extended a mythical olive branch—a reindeer
sleigh, always at the ready to whisk Chateau guests through the skies to the
heart of Salem's historical intrigue.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Could the
brochure be true? Could this be more than a mere metaphor? A sleigh in this
modern age seemed a quaint notion, yet something whispered that this was no
mere fancy, but a tangible reality. Perhaps, I mused, the sleigh did not merely
tread upon the earth but soared above it, a chariot amidst the clouds, bridging
the gap between the lore of old and the marvel of the now.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">This experience is made with the Grotto package by <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FANATIK/130/129/22">FANATIK ARCHITECTURE</a> that includes</span> 32 unique mesh building pieces with 4 props as well as texturing HUD
with 4 rock material variations (blue calcite or ice included) and 7 ground material variations. There are also 5 pre-built
cave examples for a quick start in landscaping. The textures are awesome and very detailed. Perfect for the skyboxes. Requires some building skills, but the pre-built examples make it easy to use.</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><i><u> For the lobby of the Blue Frost Chateau I used the pre-built</u></i></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>:FANATIK: Grotto DEMO (107 prims), combined with:</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>:FANATIK: Grotto Wall 04 and<br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>:FANATIK: Grotto Stalactite 02 and</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>:FANATIK: Grotto Base 4</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><u>Other props used for this image are:</u></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>NOMAD // Grandfather Clock<br />NOMAD // Art Noveau Floor Lamp<br />NOMAD // Art Noveau Table Lamp<br />NOMAD // Rudolph The Reindeer Mount<br />NOMAD // Baubles Wreath<br />NOMAD // Gustavian Couch<br />NOMAD // Gustavian End Table<br />NOMAD // Brocante // Wrought Iron Daybed<br />NOMAD // Brocante // Candelabra<br />NOMAD // Brocante // Swan Taxidermy<br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>*LODE* Decor - Gladiolus Vase [white]</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>:: NEWCHURCH :: Doucette Art Deco Fireplace, White</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Di'Cor Catherine Coffee table</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>And the a reindeer sleigh to the witch hunt at Salem <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Death%20Row%20West/250/158/22">is real</a> and will bring you to the Death Row Designs quarters where Salem city is built for their 10th annual Halloween Hunt (still running). </i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-46355645126515496192023-11-20T16:59:00.006+01:002023-11-20T20:21:17.092+01:00Shadows and Spirits: A Moth's Message<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHdpeniOBE-Pm97Q65ls0T61djBg2eJJS0e161alJCMD81rnFyfTIDv0NcTpdhSPVa0LwqISUMnrWcp_sj-J6ecVJIDMxqBEqvY7AZEM2DkZkz4156PshSB38wtzieKU0NWBzwHBSeSE2arUzk_7BC2yKgYHR2qr9Kgen_bhfKgnhgxsr3KN5DaTzIFuw/s1361/OldCity_024.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1361" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHdpeniOBE-Pm97Q65ls0T61djBg2eJJS0e161alJCMD81rnFyfTIDv0NcTpdhSPVa0LwqISUMnrWcp_sj-J6ecVJIDMxqBEqvY7AZEM2DkZkz4156PshSB38wtzieKU0NWBzwHBSeSE2arUzk_7BC2yKgYHR2qr9Kgen_bhfKgnhgxsr3KN5DaTzIFuw/w640-h424/OldCity_024.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">That
morning, the pull of curiosity lured me toward a quaint corner of the city, one
unmarked on my daily maps. Friends had chattered about a novel café nestled
there, a hidden gem with perfect pies. As I wandered in search of this culinary
oasis, a peculiar storefront caught my gaze. It bore a resemblance to a <a href="https://chris-sanders-chronicles.blogspot.com/2023/11/the-lovers-enigma-and-apples-of-fate.html">fortune
teller's sanctuary I had once visited</a> - a memory that brought me an
uncomfortable shiver.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I intended to ignore the shop, but my steps faltered when I saw a luna moth battering against the window pane desperate for freedom. A sudden whisper of déjà vu. Compelled by a mingling of compassion and an unspoken yearning, I entered the shop under the guise of a rescuer. With careful hands, I liberated the moth into the city's embrace. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"A man of a kind heart," commented a voice, silken and warm. Turning, I met the shopkeeper's eyes, which twinkled like stars above his snowy beard. He smiled at me as if we were old friends.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"It's but a trifle," I replied, hoping to deflect. "Besides, moths have taken a peculiar interest in me lately. It's as if they are following me."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"How intriguing," he mused, his eyes alight with curiosity. "In my many years, I have never heard of a stalker moth."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I chuckled, dismissing it as a flight of fancy. Yet, there was an ease about him that unraveled my reservations, and I found myself recounting <a href="https://chris-sanders-chronicles.blogspot.com/2023/11/candlelight-confession.html">the dream that had disturbed my previous night</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He listened, nodding thoughtfully. "These moths are not your pursuers but your patrons," he suggested. "The one you freed was merely fulfilling its role as your guide, leading you here."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">His words left me pondering. Was it fate or mere coincidence that brought me to this threshold?
The shop was a haven of tranquility, with the smell of burning frankincense mingling with the sweet scent of resins, and music that seemed to slow the very passage of time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"We're convening a spiritual séance," he offered with a gentle invitation in his voice. "Would you care to join?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Skepticism warred with intrigue. "I'm not a believer," I admitted, yet even as I spoke, my protest felt hollow. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"There's no need for belief to seek understanding," he countered gently. "Speaking with spirits can unveil many truths. Their insights are often... unexpectedly profound."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">And so, curiosity, that most human of instincts, nudged me toward the precipice of the unknown. "Why not?" I thought. "It may yet prove to be an enlightening diversion."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As I
consented to the experience, the shopkeeper led me to the séance room, the
heart of mysteries within the shop. It was a place set apart from the mundane,
a sanctuary where the veil between worlds was thin. The walls held frames with images of mediums involved in séances, the silent witnesses watching me with anticipation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The centerpiece was a robust table, its surface worn by hands and time. Around it, chairs with crimson cushions invited the participants to sit and shed the weight of the corporeal world. A tall candelabrum with burning candles stood at the table's center. Their flames were flickering as if touched by invisible spirits. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Shelves laden with books on esoteric lore, globes charting celestial paths, and instruments of divination hinted at the depth of knowledge that the shop and its owner possessed. As the soft music continued to play, weaving a spell of serenity, I took my place at the table, a skeptic in a room of believers, ready
to witness the unseen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The séance
began with the gentle hum of the music weaving through the air, a haunting
melody that seemed to echo from a distant, forgotten time. At the head of the
table, the lady, who looked as though she had stepped out from a
Victorian portrait, closed her eyes. Her lips moved in rhythm with the
tune, her voice a soft chant that rose and fell like the tide.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The room held its breath as the medium's chant crescendoed, culminating in the clear ring of a bell. Her
announcement was simple, yet it carried the weight of centuries: “The spirits are here. Ask what you came to ask.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A shiver crawled up my spine, a primal reaction I couldn't control. My skepticism battled with the
part of me that wanted... needed to know. “What do you know about the Brotherhood of the Luna Moth?” I asked, my voice a whisper barely rising above the music.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Silence draped over the room, thick and expectant, broken only by the medium's deep, rhythmic breaths.
Then, without warning, her eyes snapped open—white, utterly devoid of iris or pupil. Her head tilted back in an unnatural arch, and her breathing turned to a gurgling rasp that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I wanted to flee, to call for the shop owner's aid, but I was rooted to the spot. Her head snapped
forward, and those white eyes fixed on me with an intensity that seemed to peer into my very soul.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You are given so many signs, yet you are riddled with doubt,” she spoke, her voice unnaturally low
and resonating with an authority that belied her frail form. “It is not only you who lurk in the void. There are powers within the void that seek you out. Cease your neglect of their calls. Heed the signs before it is too late. Come, and play your part in this game or else... regret the consequences!” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Her message struck me, leaving me petrified, an icy grip of fear clutched my heart. As quickly as the
trance came, it left. The medium's body relaxed, her breathing returned to normal, and her eyes found their natural color once more. She smiled, a stark contrast to the ominous conduit she had just been.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh dear, look at you! You are as white as a marble wall! I take it this was your first encounter with
the spirits?” Her voice was now tender, motherly. “Fear not. They mean to assist you on your path to enlightenment. Come, let us ask Wilfred for some tea.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She led me, my legs moving as though they were not my own, back into the main shop. The shopkeeper,
Wilfred, greeted us with a chuckle. “You look as if you've seen a ghost! Hardly the skeptic now, are we?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">His laughter was a lifeline back to reality. He handed me a cup of tea, the steam carrying the
fragrance of herbs that promised calm. I took a sip and felt the warmth seeping into my bones.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Thank you,” I managed to say, the experience leaving me at a loss for words.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Wilfred's eyes twinkled with a knowing look. “Sometimes,” he said, “a cup of tea can be the best medium to bring us back to ourselves. Drink up. The path of enlightenment is seldom a tranquil journey, but it is always a revealing one.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><i><u>This experience is made with:</u></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><i><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://thorsecondlife.carrd.co">.</a><b><a href="https://thorsecondlife.carrd.co">.::THOR::..</a> </b>
</span><span style="background-color: white; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><u>Midnight Library Set</u> (available at the <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/ACCESS/70/129/22">Access Event</a> or <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nyn/130/12/23">in the shop</a> after event ends)
</span><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Midnight Library Chair
Midnight Library Ladder
Midnight Library Bookshelf</span> <br /><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Midnight Library Bookstand</span> <br /><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Midnight Library Astronomy Book</span>
<br /><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Midnight Library Globe
</span></i><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i>Midnight Library Books 1
Midnight Library Books 2</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b>[InsurreKtion]</b>
</i></span><i><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><u>The Seance Set</u> (available at Seraphim Outlet with 50% discount)</span> </i><br /><span style="font-style: italic; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Table</span>
<br /><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i>Armchair</i></span>
<br /><i style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Console</i> <br /><i><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Chandelier Silver</span>
<br /><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Candlelight Silver
Spirits Bell
Spirits ##1 - 7</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b>VARONIS</b>
La Chandelle // Skybox</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b>Titans</b>
<u>Victorian Apothecary
</u>Rug</i></span><i> <br />
<span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">BookShelf 1</span> <br /></i><i><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Sconce</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="--tw-border-spacing-x: 0; --tw-border-spacing-y: 0; --tw-ring-color: rgba(69,89,164,.5); --tw-ring-offset-color: #fff; --tw-ring-offset-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-ring-offset-width: 0px; --tw-ring-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-rotate: 0; --tw-scale-x: 1; --tw-scale-y: 1; --tw-scroll-snap-strictness: proximity; --tw-shadow-colored: 0 0 transparent; --tw-shadow: 0 0 transparent; --tw-skew-x: 0; --tw-skew-y: 0; --tw-translate-x: 0; --tw-translate-y: 0; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--text-primary); orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><i><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><b>[n.i] nefarious.inventions</b></span>
<br /><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">tintypes</span></i></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-39188577640414722152023-11-15T16:13:00.004+01:002023-11-15T16:13:44.146+01:00Candlelight Confession<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiUvz-BueP7mvDw4817st_PY_TDojrMiXPjpUbCYDcRX3GJ7pvaxnvd_d5JP36tAG-15okP2kcqQSL10V4SPZuCorJhaDjnvGCDELgrFnx7FTFBYyaNaFBz25p-E9FktZEWeeT1BEwu71794fXO8OCGBClQnyoLZTaeYxeuUz5GlK9O_55WGGt31lprV8b/s1203/Lost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1203" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiUvz-BueP7mvDw4817st_PY_TDojrMiXPjpUbCYDcRX3GJ7pvaxnvd_d5JP36tAG-15okP2kcqQSL10V4SPZuCorJhaDjnvGCDELgrFnx7FTFBYyaNaFBz25p-E9FktZEWeeT1BEwu71794fXO8OCGBClQnyoLZTaeYxeuUz5GlK9O_55WGGt31lprV8b/w640-h426/Lost.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In the
waning days of autumn, as the festive cheer of Halloween gave way to the
twinkling lights of the impending Christmas season, my life resumed its
familiar rhythm, and the odd encounter at the fortune teller’s shop faded into
the background. The streets of the town bustled with the holiday spirit, and
one chilly evening, as I wandered past a choir brightening up the early dusk
with Christmas carols, a deacon's merry smile stirred old memories within me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There was a
time when I seriously considered the priesthood, drawn to the enigma of the
spiritual realm, yearning to graze the divine with my very fingertips. But
life's myriad pleasures were too sweet to forsake, and so I chose a different
path, without regret, yet occasionally musing over the road not taken.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">That night,
I had a peculiar dream. I was wearing the vestments of a priest, standing alone
in a church cloaked in shadows, the darkness punctuated by the flicker of
candlelight. The service had ended, and an eerie stillness filled the air until
a foreign sound pricked my attention. I followed the noise to a massive baroque
door of a sophisticated design. The copper knob felt cold under the touch of my
hand. And the scream of ancient hinges echoed as the door swung open, revealing
only darkness beyond.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As I
crossed the threshold, candle in hand, the door slammed shut with a thunderous
crash. Whirling around, my heart raced to find no door, only a seamless white
wall where it once stood. A voice, serene and low, wafted through the darkness,
"Fear not, for there is an exit on the other side. Your path lies through
this veil of night."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"Who
speaks?" I demanded, but only silence returned before the voice resumed,
its tone patient and ethereal, "I am the guide to seekers of light. True
enlightenment is not in standing amidst the glow but in casting light into the
darkest corners of your being. Your journey starts here and now."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">With the
candle's meager halo as my sole companion, I ventured deeper into the
blackness, placing one tentative step after another. The air began to stir, and
a moth fluttered into my circle of light, soon joined by another, then more,
their wings a whisper in the void. They landed upon me, obscuring my sight, and
I panicked as they refused my attempt to swat them away.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"Be at
peace," the voice soothed, "They mean no harm; they are your little
guides on this path. Trust not your eyes, but your inner sight, your
intuition."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">But peace
eluded me; the fluttering felt like the beats of a terrified heart. I was
ensnared in a nightmare, paralyzing, suffocating. Abruptly, I awoke all covered
in sweat with my heart racing. My cat's wet nose and whiskers were gently prodding
my face in search of attention. As the daylight scattered the remnants of my
dream, I rose, unsettled yet compelled, to begin the day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In the
kitchen, a lone moth battered against the window, desperate for freedom. I
opened the window to the cold morning air, and as it took flight, I couldn't
shake the sense that these winged visitors were an omen, their images etched
into the canvas of my days.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-89486871267276679932023-11-04T15:48:00.000+01:002023-11-04T15:48:14.690+01:00The Lover's Enigma and the Apples of Fate<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijP1YOd9Bh-NNqV_QDb3GIj39eccd5bKJJbEgq62GQ7D6cW7DU8cIf-FLt0c8RCQ3G5KxYB0Sk96XM-TiZETUJ8mQ_7vPt3HWj0xGvikzn9NGykmIt7MhTbPW0KApuG2_23ol2Aog8ev_oex8XESpImT786LHD7Ak50N1wBGPWphLwe5cD5OEoAQlbzJze/s1800/LoversTarot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1800" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijP1YOd9Bh-NNqV_QDb3GIj39eccd5bKJJbEgq62GQ7D6cW7DU8cIf-FLt0c8RCQ3G5KxYB0Sk96XM-TiZETUJ8mQ_7vPt3HWj0xGvikzn9NGykmIt7MhTbPW0KApuG2_23ol2Aog8ev_oex8XESpImT786LHD7Ak50N1wBGPWphLwe5cD5OEoAQlbzJze/w640-h404/LoversTarot.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">After
<a href="https://chris-sanders-chronicles.blogspot.com/2023/11/echoes-of-luna-moth.html">buying the “Luna Moth” ottoman</a>, the intricate image of the green butterfly was etched in
my mind, resonating with half-forgotten memories. Each time I glanced at the
moth's delicate wings, I was transported to thoughts of my childhood, to the
silhouette of the ancient castle back in my village that cast long shadows over
local lore, steeped in whispers of forgotten dark rituals. The desire to
return there was as irrational as it was irresistible.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I sought
clarity where I least expected to find it—in the shadowed realm of a Fortune
Teller. I had walked past her shop countless times, yet never intended to enter
until that day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The shop
was dimly lit, candles casting a soft glow on the mysterious objects that
filled the room: a basket of ripe apples, their scent mingling with
the rich and exotic fragrance of incense, a weathered box etched with the word
“TAROTS,” and an assortment of mystical paraphernalia that spoke of the occult.
The air was filled with mystery, and in the heart of it all sat the fortune
teller, an enigmatic smile playing upon her lips.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She
gestured to the table, and I sat before the spread of cards. She laid three
cards face down and asked me to turn one and tell her what I saw. I turned a
card, revealing "VI Lovers," as its name told me. A couple in an
eternal embrace amidst a thicket of roses.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"A
romantic encounter, perhaps?" I offered, hoping to sound light-hearted,
but a strange sense of foreboding tightened around my chest.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The fortune
teller nodded, her eyes reflecting the flicker of candlelight. "Yes, you
might have quite an encounter. Just, all cards have hidden meaning within them.
The hidden name for the Lovers is Choice."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Choice?” I
repeated, the word echoing through my mind like an omen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"Yes,
my dear," she continued, her voice a soothing balm to my mounting unease.
"Life is but a pattern of choices, each one is a thread intertwining with
destiny's design."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I reached
for the next card, eager to unveil more of this mysterious pattern, but her
hand was swift, catching my wrist with a gentle firmness. "Wait," she
said, offering me an apple with her free hand. The fruit looked ordinary, but
the action was anything but. Her sleeve slipped back, revealing the inked image
of a serpent coiling around her arm—a tattoo or perhaps a warning.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Unheeding,
I accepted the apple, the crunch of my bite echoing in the still room. Her eyes
never left mine as she spoke, "Well, you've already made your choice. For
now, you know what to do. And soon you'll learn the tastes of good and
evil."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Her words
wound around me like the serpent on her arm, leaving me dazed. Questions
perched on the tip of my tongue, but my consciousness was ebbing away, like
mist in the rise of the morning sun.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Emerging
back onto the street, apple in hand, clarity struck me with the force of a
revelation. I was not just chasing a memory—I was answering a call that
resonated with the deepest parts of my being. Tomorrow, I would return to the
beginning, to my village, to face whatever awaited me there.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">If I only
knew what a quest I was going to follow. In my naiveté, I failed to perceive
the truth. If only I had been more vigilant in the fortune teller's lair. If
only I had seen the ashen pallor of the Lovers' skin, the macabre skull nestled
among the roses around them, the serpent's inked embrace suggesting a choice fraught with
consequence. The symbols were there, painted in the shadow and light of that
room, but I was too caught up in the novelty, the adventure.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So, with
the taste of the apple lingering and the moth’s image my silent sentinel, I
took up the quest that would alter my life forever. The moth, it seemed, had
guided me to this very choice, a choice shrouded in mystery as deep as the
shadows that danced in the fortune teller’s chamber.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i><u>This adventure is made with:</u></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i>..::THOR::.. Psychic Table<br />..::THOR::.. Psychic Candle<br />..::THOR::.. Psychic Box<br />..::THOR::.. Psychic Bookstand<br />..::THOR::.. Psychic Chair<br />NOMAD // Fortune Teller<br />NOMAD // Vintage Lab Cabinet<br />NOMAD // Botanical Lab Desk<br />NOMAD // Vintage Lab Cabinet<br />NOMAD // The Sun<br />NOMAD // The Moon<br />DRD Mystic Bastion - victorian bench red<br />DRD - Salem - Harvest decor - harvest table<br />DRD - Bloodcroft Castle - Secret Bookcase<br />Apple Fall Deer Skull</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-54494094856983441902023-11-02T20:37:00.009+01:002023-11-02T20:43:05.063+01:00Echoes of the Luna Moth<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The attic
sale was nestled deep within the heart of an old and dilapidated mansion, its
bricks darkened with age and the windows curtained off, making it impossible to
see within. The ad I stumbled upon mentioned it as an "exhibition of the
forgotten", and it was this tagline that piqued my nostalgia. Yard and
attic sales have always been a sort of time capsule for me, each item
representing a story, a life once lived, a moment captured in time.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlohpG1GWUH24obLyKjarHi2bRUpUuWo03RGDRu4O-ZOv4vfO3l0BaKfc-1ZpfoowzSOOgohze-sFc4DkoG4F8t2bc9T6RQjJVkis6U1KyTEZYlkgKmUGFM8C5YtRTzJwOANE567KBif0YgYwvCWEdKgtUifBxNogA5L_JXgMXLvZCAFk64NOcTcLAOQ6/s1800/OldCity_009.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1220" data-original-width="1800" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlohpG1GWUH24obLyKjarHi2bRUpUuWo03RGDRu4O-ZOv4vfO3l0BaKfc-1ZpfoowzSOOgohze-sFc4DkoG4F8t2bc9T6RQjJVkis6U1KyTEZYlkgKmUGFM8C5YtRTzJwOANE567KBif0YgYwvCWEdKgtUifBxNogA5L_JXgMXLvZCAFk64NOcTcLAOQ6/w640-h434/OldCity_009.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The wooden
steps leading to the attic creaked under my weight, a warning perhaps, of the
world I was about to step into. Inside, the attic was dimly lit with candles
that flickered eerily, casting ghostly shadows against the walls. I was met
with an assortment of peculiar items. A giant tapestry embroidered with mystic
symbols hung on the far end, moving gently as if touched by an unseen hand.
Skulls of varying sizes, some with gleaming gem-like eyes, watched my every
move from different corners.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="en-150" style="mso-ansi-language: #2400;">My
attention, however, was soon drawn to an old wooden cabinet filled with glass
bottles. Each vial contained a potion, each with its own unique color. Some
were filled with thick, viscous liquids, while others seemed to be empty except
for a glowing mist that danced within. Some of the potions bubbled, while
others remained as still as death. The labels on these bottles were written in
Latin, a language I had only encountered in ancient texts. I dared not attempt
to pronounce the names for fear of invoking something I wasn't prepared to
face. The corks bore alchemical symbols, each meticulously carved into the
seal, as if the very essence of the potion depended on it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Amongst
these oddities, a familiar sight brought warmth to my heart. A rug, decorated
with a beautiful depiction of a Luna Moth, the same one that was ever-present
in my hometown. Next to the rug was a stool adorned with the same butterfly </span><span lang="en-150" style="mso-ansi-language: #2400;">image</span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. Memories flooded back - of carefree summer
evenings chasing these majestic green creatures as they danced in the twilight.
Without much thought, I decided to purchase the stool; a piece of my past
amidst this room of mysteries.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">However, as
I turned the stool upside down to inspect it, I saw </span><span lang="en-150" style="mso-ansi-language: #2400;">something </span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">that sent chills down my spine. </span><span lang="en-150" style="mso-ansi-language: #2400;">It was</span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> a hologram of </span><span lang="en-150" style="mso-ansi-language: #2400;">a</span><span lang="en-150" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> </span><span lang="en-150" style="mso-ansi-language: #2400;">green
butterfly, a different version of Luna Moth</span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. The image was vivid, and eerily familiar. It
was identical to the symbol I had seen years ago on the wall of an abandoned
castle back home. The castle had its share of tales – of the Brotherhood of the
Luna Moth, known to perform dark and arcane rituals under the cloak of night.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06390h01Mhi0N1rusgVQ13mVp4FdszbitjKVHAcGHBWyl-CDQHwi1dVwTDaGkuoMwA3GNRr1qZZ2feEHlCJDqWFbXTpQVfnx1FWCQSjGw9V_Dbo5-2ulMi0euYPNV8Vhyphenhyphenmoz002rL5a9C8bNHFTSUg73LabEb2ZPd6lBjRurklpagNDvACfh9-jzpimK-/s1800/OldCity_011.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1158" data-original-width="1800" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06390h01Mhi0N1rusgVQ13mVp4FdszbitjKVHAcGHBWyl-CDQHwi1dVwTDaGkuoMwA3GNRr1qZZ2feEHlCJDqWFbXTpQVfnx1FWCQSjGw9V_Dbo5-2ulMi0euYPNV8Vhyphenhyphenmoz002rL5a9C8bNHFTSUg73LabEb2ZPd6lBjRurklpagNDvACfh9-jzpimK-/w640-h412/OldCity_011.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A wave of
unease washed over me. Was this stool's presence here merely a coincidence? Or </span><span lang="en-150" style="mso-ansi-language: #2400;">is</span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> it a call, a beckoning to dive deeper into the
legends of my hometown? My logical side warned against pursuing this further,
but a part of me was intrigued. Was it destiny nudging me towards uncovering
the truth about the Brotherhood? Or was it merely chance?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Regardless
of what it was, I knew one thing for sure; I was about to embark on a journey
that could potentially unravel the secrets of the Brotherhood, and maybe, just
maybe, discover my own role in this grand </span><span lang="en-150" style="mso-ansi-language: #2400;">contrivance</span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> of mysteries.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i><u>This experience is built with:</u></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i>..::THOR::.. Cursed Cabinet<br />..::THOR::.. Luna Moth ottoman<br />..::THOR::.. Luna Moth rug<br />.::THOR::.. Midnight Candelabra<br />DRD - Spiritualists Shoppe - Potions Shelf<br />DRD - Spiritualists Shoppe - Hanging Cages<br />DRD - Spiritualists Shoppe - Spellbook Stand<br />DRD - Spiritualists Shoppe - Pentagram Chime - Wall Hook<br />DRD - Spiritualists Shoppe - Tapestry</i></span></p><p></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-7311246758709009252023-10-30T17:41:00.002+01:002023-10-30T17:50:12.849+01:00The Haunting Hymn of Halloween Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKvE00cPivyYYGO8bikYINeZrt9o28Fdm8KBUNBJmjwCnvJs6Go7kSfPURV9y1wGRmaMZeHTJmBKcVtRVXVhFJwRTxFAWlscA6Ycw_XBmGTcm7EU2HdsnQKR24enqfF2QEbpgmVljNkidVDAY_a_azc2OiIkULSR_dg0RQTfKdQ8yitDvxDjU6Mq9cL9b/s1200/Summoning_001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="849" data-original-width="1200" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKvE00cPivyYYGO8bikYINeZrt9o28Fdm8KBUNBJmjwCnvJs6Go7kSfPURV9y1wGRmaMZeHTJmBKcVtRVXVhFJwRTxFAWlscA6Ycw_XBmGTcm7EU2HdsnQKR24enqfF2QEbpgmVljNkidVDAY_a_azc2OiIkULSR_dg0RQTfKdQ8yitDvxDjU6Mq9cL9b/w640-h452/Summoning_001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>On the
evening of Halloween, as dusk began to fall and shadows played tricks with the
light, I found myself drawn to the legends of the old castle atop the hill. The
tales told in the village were of strange occurrences and mysterious gatherings
at the castle every Halloween night. My curiosity was greedy, and this
Halloween, I decided to see what the fuss was all about.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Approaching
the castle was an experience in itself. Ancient walls, draped in ivy and
blackthorn, loomed ominously as if ready to ward off unwelcome visitors,
cloaking the path in unease. But what truly piqued my interest was a haunting,
rhythmic chant echoing from within the castle grounds. With every step I took,
the sound became clearer and more enticing.</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As I
reached the top, I discovered the source of the sound. A ritual was in progress.
The atmosphere was thick with mysticism, and I instinctively took cover behind
an old stone wall, peeking out just enough to witness the scene unfold.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The men in
cloaks, their movements synchronized, seemed deeply engrossed in their
ceremony. The bats (or were they something more sinister?) danced in the air,
creating patterns and shapes that seemed unnatural. I looked closer, the
glowing circle with the pentagram painted in what seemed like blood mesmerized
me. The eerie statue of the dark deity, the torch's flame flickering in its
hand, stood as a testament to their worship.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">But what
truly took my breath away was the smoky apparition behind the altar. The mist
and smoke solidified into a cloaked figure. Was this their god? The entity they
sought to summon? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Overwhelmed
by the scene and the implications, I impulsively took out my phone and snapped
a picture, hoping to capture proof of this forbidden ritual. But the universe
had other plans. The very second the shutter clicked, the chanting ceased. A
palpable silence hung in the air. The central figure, with the crown, slowly
turned his head in my direction.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Fear,
sharper than any blade, coursed through me. I crawled on all fours, trying to
distance myself from the site, before breaking into a desperate run. The woods
around the castle became a blur as adrenaline fueled my escape. Somewhere along
the way, everything went black.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I awoke
with a start, drenched in sweat and tangled in my bed sheets. The chilling
events at the castle felt like a vivid nightmare. But was it? Fumbling for my
phone, I unlocked it and opened my gallery. And there it was, the irrefutable
evidence of the previous night's events - a picture of the ritual, the cloaked
men, the dark deity, and the ghostly apparition.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><u>This memory was made with:</u></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Secret Circle Decor by LOVE</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Bloodcroft Castle by DRD</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Ghost bat by {anc}</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Altar table by NOMAD</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Blood Demon Statue by ::DisturbeD:: </i></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-41839781621056830282023-10-29T17:15:00.004+01:002023-10-29T17:15:46.812+01:00Revisiting Second Life: A Halloween Twist and a New Obsession with SML Training<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLwv4uX2A8FAsk2SLc-XBnWLmkevgmFWswNwxv7NTy_8HkHGDwvwY1fjpeE_cKXTQfcIFZYuzZ_YRPxAEs3DCGGlX-47DpQy1YJQs196ot-E7aTD3HB1PzNIM7gQdtjUMya3ABnImejkzayqqDTU_Epdv-oCRfEy7lQUHB39ejzJE5lOw3VXvHolKcrI4s/s1304/SportyChris_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1304" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLwv4uX2A8FAsk2SLc-XBnWLmkevgmFWswNwxv7NTy_8HkHGDwvwY1fjpeE_cKXTQfcIFZYuzZ_YRPxAEs3DCGGlX-47DpQy1YJQs196ot-E7aTD3HB1PzNIM7gQdtjUMya3ABnImejkzayqqDTU_Epdv-oCRfEy7lQUHB39ejzJE5lOw3VXvHolKcrI4s/w640-h393/SportyChris_001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b>A Haunting Reminder</b></p><p>The chill in the air and the whimsical fright of Halloween turned my thoughts back to the virtual world of Second Life. An online world where the spooky season unfolds into a bunch of spine-chilling events and festivities. Inspired by this hauntingly fun period, I felt an urge to return tp Second Life, curious to see what new adventures awaited.</p><p><b>Discovering SML Training System</b></p><p>As I wandered through the digital landscapes, I stumbled upon something I hadn't noticed before: the SML training system. This game, though perhaps not brand new to others, was fresh and intriguing to me. Designed for the ultimate gym enthusiasts, the SML training system seemed like a dream come true for those wanting to push their virtual physiques to extraordinary limits. Imagine building and growing muscles beyond any realistic boundary, all within the limitless confines of a virtual world!</p><p>What truly caught my eye was the system's accessibility – it's free! No need to spend any Lindens here. The HUD, an essential component of the experience, comes without a cost, complete with complimentary coins and herbal supplements to boost your training regime. Each day, you're presented with a new training goal, and accomplishing these tasks rewards you with more coins, herbs, or even extra training time. Additionally, gyms around the digital world offer their own daily prizes – a motivational boost for sure. Of course, nothing is really free in Second Life as the whole system is built upon the gym owners, who offer their equipment for residents to work out.</p><p><b>Upgrading My Avatar</b></p><p>This journey into extreme virtual fitness demanded a more fitting avatar. Although I had been a fan of the Niramyth Aesthetics body, known for its popularity among muscle worshippers, my exploration led me to discover the Kario body by INITHIUM. It was a beauty to see, with its athletic build, defined muscles, and realistic veins, all topped with high-quality textures. But, as any Second Life veteran knows, a new body often necessitates a new wardrobe.</p><p><b>Fashion Forward in the Virtual World</b></p><p>Though some might argue (and I am among them) that the Kario's beauty is best appreciated in its natural, uncovered state, I decided to opt for a more socially acceptable look. Thankfully, with the weekend sales, updating my wardrobe was both fun and affordable.</p><p>I picked up a Tim Tee Steel shirt from Clef de Peau, perfectly complementing my new physique. To add a bit of edge, I chose the Bondage version shorts by Guilty, fashioned in leather and denim, complete with dangling handcuffs – a bold statement piece. For footwear, I went with a stylish and somewhat more conventional pair of GUTCHI sneakers.</p><p>And what's a new look without the perfect hairstyle? I topped off my avatar's makeover with a new Vango haircut, the Martin version, with cap included. As someone who's admired Vango's work for a while, this choice was the cherry on top of my shopping spree.</p><p><b>A New Chapter in Second Life</b></p><p>Decked out in my new outfit and with a thrilling training regime ahead, I've found a renewed sense of excitement in Second Life. The SML training system isn't just about growing virtual muscles; it's also a nice community where you can find both, warm and caring conversation and fun.</p><p>As I finished my workshop, sporting this fresh new look and feeling invigorated by my recent discoveries, I realized that Second Life's still has that ability to surprise and engage, no matter how long we've been a part of its universe.</p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-45531207634733706152021-09-09T18:10:00.001+02:002021-09-09T18:10:11.021+02:00From the depths of Inventory: Back to 2017<p>Sometimes it's good to dig into the depths of inventory. You never know what forgotten props can pop out. And so I found the SwagBag from January 2017 which gave me the most for the look of today.</p><p>Autumnal Mood</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EIlbwCXyGj4/YTowtc_X48I/AAAAAAAADhY/T9a7CY99nvU_1G4EEeaNTBScu-Uukd13QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1200/FallMood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="649" data-original-width="1200" height="346" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EIlbwCXyGj4/YTowtc_X48I/AAAAAAAADhY/T9a7CY99nvU_1G4EEeaNTBScu-Uukd13QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h346/FallMood.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>Used: Signature Gianni Body and Head, Stray Dog's Owen Skin Applier for Gianni (cotton), L'Etre Skin Shop Gianni Skin Cotton tone, [ZOOM] Cesein glasses, [The Forge] Chrono Watch silver, [sYs] StGERMAIN jacket ( SIGNATURE body) - black/white, NO.MATCH_NO.CLOUD. hair, red tones.</p><p><br /></p>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-65119293065112760832019-11-17T22:37:00.002+01:002019-11-17T22:37:46.072+01:00Swan Lake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7bd6l8qBg0A/XdG8-f75xnI/AAAAAAAADaY/IlGyOOPE-akISxXoKoMkNa7Y6OBbbFKMwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Snapshot_1_001SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1234" height="414" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7bd6l8qBg0A/XdG8-f75xnI/AAAAAAAADaY/IlGyOOPE-akISxXoKoMkNa7Y6OBbbFKMwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Snapshot_1_001SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Lost%20Dreams%20Island/99/104/23">Serenity Style</a></b></i><br />
Snow Queen Sled Gacha set<br />
<i>Available at the <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nymphai/199/72/2762">Enchantment event</a> till December 2nd</i>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-53113829644586942492019-10-31T22:48:00.000+01:002019-10-31T22:48:16.511+01:00Bus delayedAnd I guess I better keep walking. Not sure if I prefer to stay here waiting for the bus tonight.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v_mX2mP404o/XbtU_HUPQoI/AAAAAAAADaE/Nr8KL905it4F7N-LBCh12gMWBOhlc52eACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Snapshot_1_003SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="1200" height="432" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v_mX2mP404o/XbtU_HUPQoI/AAAAAAAADaE/Nr8KL905it4F7N-LBCh12gMWBOhlc52eACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Snapshot_1_003SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Featured</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Lost%20Dreams%20Island/99/104/23">Serenity Style</a></b></i><br />
<b>Urban Bus Stop </b><br />
Serenity Style- Bus Stop platform<br />
Serenity Style- Urban Bus Stop Street Lamp<br />
Serenity Style- Urban Bus Stop Paper Bin<br />
Serenity Style- Urban Bus Stop [Grunge]<br />
Serenity Style- Urban Bus Stop Flying Papers<br />
<i>Available at the <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Uber/188/189/19">Uber event</a> till November 22nd</i><br />
<br />
<br />Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-70910231357872583072019-10-15T22:47:00.000+02:002019-10-15T22:47:17.227+02:00Ruins of the Moonlight Sonataxxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RQ3dO2kVyHY/XaYuIXgQEAI/AAAAAAAADZw/KzKX3u9x6w4iWgaEjYkrL4cRkYFwbcBvgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Snapshot_1_002SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="815" data-original-width="1200" height="434" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RQ3dO2kVyHY/XaYuIXgQEAI/AAAAAAAADZw/KzKX3u9x6w4iWgaEjYkrL4cRkYFwbcBvgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Snapshot_1_002SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Tanya/148/117/22">Serenity Style</a></b></i><br />
<b>Soul Whisper gacha set</b><br />
Serenity Style- Soul Whisper Ruins RARE<br />
Serenity Style- Soul Whispers Piano<br />
Serenity Style- Soul Whispers Dead Tree 2<br />
Serenity Style- Soul Whispers Dead Tree 1<br />
Serenity Style- Soul Whispers Music Sheets<br />
Serenity Style- Soul Whispers Mirror<br />
Serenity Style- Soul Whispers Candle<br />
<i>Available at the current round of <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/The%20Liaison%20Collaborative/98/136/23">The Liaison Collaborative</a></i><br />
<br />
<u>Also used</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Death%20Row/125/140/21">Death Row Designs</a></b></i><br />
Items from <b>Black Dahlia Hunt</b>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-32494043204955119602019-09-20T22:11:00.000+02:002019-09-20T22:11:21.286+02:00The fall is back!Welcome home, Fall! Let's catch up some memories and make some new ones for the next years!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hdmjn_KFG2I/XYUwEbVhPlI/AAAAAAAADZg/xjCU3btqBv07R6pJKFi1umNCY8cK-vF_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Snapshot_1_001SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="1200" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hdmjn_KFG2I/XYUwEbVhPlI/AAAAAAAADZg/xjCU3btqBv07R6pJKFi1umNCY8cK-vF_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Snapshot_1_001SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Lost%20Dreams%20Island/99/104/23">Serenity Style</a></b></i><br />
Serenity Style- Autumn Outdoor Stall<br />
<i>Available at the current round of <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Copper%20River/247/219/28">Flourish</a></i><br />
<br />
Serenity Style-Delilah Chaise Longue Dark<br />
<i>Available at the current round of <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Belle/140/111/994">Belle event</a></i><br />
<br />
<b>Nicolle Picture Holder Gacha</b><br />
Serenity Style-Nicolle Picture Holder Green<br />
Serenity Style-Nicolle Picture Holder Off white<br />
Serenity Style-Nicolle Picture Holder White<br />
Serenity Style-Nicolle Picture Holder Blue<br />
Serenity Style-Nicolle Picture Holder Pink<br />
Serenity Style-Nicolle Picture Holder Black<br />
Serenity Style-Nicolle Picture Holder RARE<br />
<i>Available at the current round of <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/UniK/128/128/3001">UNIK</a></i><br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Manet/129/92/21">[ keke ]</a></b></i><br />
[ keke ] fall maple leaves . ground cover . brown<br />
[ keke ] fall maple leaves . ground cover . orange<br />
[ keke ] fall maple leaves . whirling orange<br />
[ keke ] fall maple leaves . whirling . brown<br />
<i>Available at the <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Manet/129/92/21">main store</a></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<u>Other credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Death%20Row/125/140/21">DRD</a></b></i><br />
DRD deerhead chandelabra dark<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Honeycomb/129/121/57">hive</a></b></i><br />
hive // plant stand<br />
<br />
<br />Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-49623610703036952282019-08-01T21:33:00.001+02:002019-08-02T10:03:09.411+02:00Mystery forest bath<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BwmGgHmGBlw/XUM8bCMiKLI/AAAAAAAADZM/wRJX1Cuvu4o1OrlMUBekvozTHKGZK3e2QCLcBGAs/s1600/Snapshot_195_009SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="829" data-original-width="1200" height="442" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BwmGgHmGBlw/XUM8bCMiKLI/AAAAAAAADZM/wRJX1Cuvu4o1OrlMUBekvozTHKGZK3e2QCLcBGAs/s640/Snapshot_195_009SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Goguryeo/211/112/70">NAMINOKE</a></b></i><br />
*N*Lantern Tree #6<br />
*N*Lantern Tree #5<br />
*N*Lantern Tree #4<br />
*N*Lantern Tree #3<br />
*N*Lantern Tree #2<br />
*N*Lantern Tree #1<br />
<i>Available now at <a href="http://the%20liaison%20collaborative%20%2866%2C%20123%2C%2023%29%20-%20moderate/">The Liaison Collaborative</a> August 3rd - 27th</i><br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/utakata/226/60/27">[Cinoe]</a></b></i><br />
[Cinoe] Purple at night - Bathtub<br />
[Cinoe] Bath plate set<br />
<i>Available now at <a href="http://the%20liaison%20collaborative%20%2866%2C%20123%2C%2023%29%20-%20moderate/">The Liaison Collaborative</a> </i><i>August 3rd - 27th</i>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-37043565661665071472019-07-29T21:15:00.001+02:002019-07-29T21:15:29.013+02:00Summer sleeping room<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DUlPzqkOD_A/XT9Er1VIanI/AAAAAAAADZA/WN86RrRUBxoloGzcXpP7QxP_nxtIqlGEACLcBGAs/s1600/Snapshot_195_008SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="862" data-original-width="1200" height="458" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DUlPzqkOD_A/XT9Er1VIanI/AAAAAAAADZA/WN86RrRUBxoloGzcXpP7QxP_nxtIqlGEACLcBGAs/s640/Snapshot_195_008SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Lost%20Dreams%20Island/99/104/23"><i><b>Serenity Style</b></i></a><br />
<b>Serenity Style. The Refuge set</b><br />
Serenity Style. The Refuge<br />
Serenity Style- Refuge Bed<br />
Serenity Style- The Refuge Night Books<br />
Serenity Style- The Refuge Hanger<br />
<i>Available now at the current round of <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Uber/130/132/1200">UBER</a></i><br />
<br />
Serenity Style- Rothschild Lamp<br />
Serenity Style- Valentino's Barber Shop -Lamp<br />
Serenity Style-La Habana Beach TableChris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-77621074603278467942019-07-25T19:29:00.000+02:002019-07-25T19:29:22.656+02:00A private concert<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LGovBEB7hqY/XTdfTaiNt0I/AAAAAAAADYo/TRC0ribW1zsSzW1wBBAUN_INyJUwrECOACLcBGAs/s1600/Snapshot_195_007SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="835" data-original-width="1200" height="444" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LGovBEB7hqY/XTdfTaiNt0I/AAAAAAAADYo/TRC0ribW1zsSzW1wBBAUN_INyJUwrECOACLcBGAs/s640/Snapshot_195_007SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/KraftWork/55/84/22">Kraftwork</a></b></i> + <i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/kunst/86/78/23">[ kunst ]</a></b></i><br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] 1 Vintage Radio Station RARE<br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] 13 Reception Desk<br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] 2 Transmission Tower<br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] 7 Operator's Table<br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] 8 Broadcast Mixer<br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] 11 Studio Mic / Tripod<br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] Double Bass VIP<br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] 9 Broadcast mic<br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] 14 Vintage Piano<br />
Kraftwork + [ kunst ] 5 Executive Chair<br />
<i>Available at the current round of <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/The%20Epiphany/76/119/2106">Epiphany</a></i><br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/kunst/86/78/23">[ kunst ]</a></b></i><br />
[ kunst ] - Vintage ashtray #1<br />
<i>Available at <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/TMD/125/169/22">The Mens Dept</a> till July 31st</i>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-17784101310573716952019-07-16T23:19:00.000+02:002019-07-16T23:19:20.433+02:00My little princessIt's her big day today. Everything is ready. And everything should be perfect.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jqYdV6eHIjU/XSzviqeBwSI/AAAAAAAADYc/K-syC1-2_KYX-Cl76gwFuvXzIFEu5hRBQCLcBGAs/s1600/Snapshot_195_002SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="801" data-original-width="1200" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jqYdV6eHIjU/XSzviqeBwSI/AAAAAAAADYc/K-syC1-2_KYX-Cl76gwFuvXzIFEu5hRBQCLcBGAs/s640/Snapshot_195_002SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Lost%20Dreams%20Island/99/104/23">Serenity Style</a></b></i><br />
Serenity Style- Marlene Vanity<br />
Serenity Style- Marlene Blush Brush<br />
Serenity Style- Marlene Vanity Stool<br />
<i>Available at <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Belle/125/113/2986">Belle</a> from July 6th</i><br />
<br />
Serenity Style- Evelyn Dream Wardrobe<br />
Serenity Style- Evelyn Dream Basin<br />
<i>Available at the <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Lost%20Dreams%20Island/99/104/23">main store</a></i><br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Apple%20Fall/48/129/29">Apple Fall</a></b></i><br />
Apple Fall Kingsbury Pendant Lamp<br />
<br />
<a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Death%20Row/126/139/21"><i><b>Death Row Designs</b></i></a><br />
DRD - Series 01 - Floor Lamp - LightChris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-65309314360227569992019-07-15T22:41:00.000+02:002019-07-15T22:41:47.167+02:00Tropical HeatEven when the ocean is hundreds of miles away, the feeling of the tropical heat can be at your fingertips.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nZo6GTxX6tw/XSziUzJDAFI/AAAAAAAADYQ/TYWge6Bs8pgLuLBeZ9-G8cdDmGeBrYbugCLcBGAs/s1600/Snapshot_195SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1361" height="376" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nZo6GTxX6tw/XSziUzJDAFI/AAAAAAAADYQ/TYWge6Bs8pgLuLBeZ9-G8cdDmGeBrYbugCLcBGAs/s640/Snapshot_195SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/BackBone/140/177/72">BackBone</a></b></i> & <i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Convair/41/107/32">CONVAIR</a></b></i><br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Cabana RARE<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Wicker Sofa<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Wicker Chair<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Lantern - Large<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Lantern - Small<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Pouffe - Tropic<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Pouffe - Leather<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Bamboo Lamp<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Low Table<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Rug<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Pina Colada<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Pineapple Mai Tai<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Pineapple Lamp<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Cactus on Stand<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Cactus<br />
BackBone x CONVAIR - Coco Cabana Palm Plant - Small<br />
<i>Available at the current round of <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/The%20Epiphany/76/119/2106">Epiphany</a> </i><br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Motherland/165/64/4001">NOMAD</a></b></i><br />
NOMAD // Spring Townhouse // CreamChris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-18155322244535486202019-07-14T22:26:00.000+02:002019-07-14T22:26:54.393+02:00Sugar?Would you like some sugar in your coffee?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q5fzTCrs0fQ/XSig-IzfFEI/AAAAAAAADYE/yN9nWf52XA8lirHx5Z1NmTYnfwsP6sBxwCLcBGAs/s1600/Snapshot_194SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1231" height="414" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q5fzTCrs0fQ/XSig-IzfFEI/AAAAAAAADYE/yN9nWf52XA8lirHx5Z1NmTYnfwsP6sBxwCLcBGAs/s640/Snapshot_194SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/22769/135/125/23">22769</a></b></i><br />
22769 - Bistro Table<br />
22769 - Bistro Chair<br />
22769 - Postcards from Paris<br />
22769 - Cafe Au Lait<br />
<i>Available now at <a href="http://the%20liaison%20collaborative%20%2866%2C%20123%2C%2023%29%20-%20moderate/">The Liaison Collaborative</a> till July 26th</i><br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/utakata/226/60/27">[Cinoe]</a></b></i><br />
[Cinoe] Charlotte<br />
[Cinoe] Macaron and paper<br />
[Cinoe] Kouglof<br />
[Cinoe] Biscuit<br />
[Cinoe] Eclair<br />
[Cinoe] Opera<br />
<i>Available now at <a href="http://the%20liaison%20collaborative%20%2866%2C%20123%2C%2023%29%20-%20moderate/">The Liaison Collaborative</a> till July 26th</i><br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Apple%20Fall/48/129/29">Apple Fall</a></b></i><br />
Apple Fall Whitehall Pathway<br />
Apple Fall Hardwick Manor<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Heart%205/50/168/22">Heart</a></b></i><br />
Heart - Hollyhocks - Group - Blues<br />
<br />
<br />Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5820507346455421293.post-52772158059457662692019-07-12T15:18:00.000+02:002019-07-12T15:18:23.195+02:00Art Studio at Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rtajE-30USM/XSiGaKdwjII/AAAAAAAADX4/mW2X7GGsLuwNLKAEOr7w0E8aZt7mcIc1ACLcBGAs/s1600/Snapshot_193SW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1200" height="432" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rtajE-30USM/XSiGaKdwjII/AAAAAAAADX4/mW2X7GGsLuwNLKAEOr7w0E8aZt7mcIc1ACLcBGAs/s640/Snapshot_193SW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>Credits</u>:<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Paradiso%20Isle/230/105/1500">[ kunst ]</a></b></i><br />
[ kunst ] - Vintage ashtray #1<br />
<i>Available at <a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/TMD/125/169/22">The Mens Dept</a> till July 31st</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Yierburn/12/96/1501"><b>Duvet Day</b></a><br />
[DD] Painters Cottage MC RARE<br />
[DD] Painters Cottage Chaise blue MC<br />
[DD] Painters Cottage Palette MC<br />
[DD] Painters Cottage Painting Stool MC<br />
[DD] painters Cottage Canvas Pile MC<br />
[DD] Painters Cottage Easel MC<br />
<i>Available at <a href="http://the%20liaison%20collaborative%20%2866%2C%20123%2C%2023%29%20-%20moderate/">The Liaison Collaborative</a> till July 26th</i>Chris Chronicles Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10559330963661740511noreply@blogger.com0