There I was, even in my viewer, with a leg tucked under an arm, my clothes floating larger than life, and a head . . . somewhere. My breasts, with holes where the nipples used to be and my pelvic area, fully rezzed and disturbingly near an equally disassembled but with more provocative bits rezzed man. "Hotstud 347."
Evidently the other 346 Hotstuds could not make it.
Second Life, where you get to play out all your fantasies. Except this was never part of any fantasy, ever.
I tend to be more the unicorns and fluffy fairies kind of fantasy girls, except once I did fantasize about a tragic accident involving a girl I hated and try-outs for the basketball team. I went to church for almost a whole year for that one. I didn't confess or anything, I was not a masochist. No desire for bondage or pain of any kind. I just sang a lot of hymns. I am pretty sure Jesus gave me the golden pass on my performance and there is no need to ever discuss the incident again.
Back to SL and my impending trauma . . .
I could see that everyone else had been hijacked in the middle of their private role-playings, demonstrated by everyone kind of being a semi-crouching position like they were ready to jump. Although to be fair there was no obvious evidence on who was the jumper and who was the the "jumpee." We had ballroom dancers to fierce warriors, some of whom were also "jumping."
I was OK until the horse showed up. She seemed to be with erect penis man, "Hotstud 347."
I tried to teleport out. My destination was unavailable.
Why is it that in those moments you end up clicking on 74,327 items in your inventory of 74,329 items BEFORE you find a landmark that you can get to, that is working and where you are not sandwiched in with all the weirdest peeps you have ever seen?
My question is, why can't I go to a nice place to wait out the passing apocalypse with the rest of the people from my own area? I live in a fairly sane place where everyone dresses normal and does normal, let's play house kind of things. Except for the odd mommy and daddy, or daddy and daddy, or mommy and mommy, who are trying out hardware equipment, they are just …."regular folk." Why does Linden Lab gather up one sane person, "me," and put me with all the whackadoodles?
I am sure they feel really uncomfortable having me there, with all my normalness exposed all over their … stuff.
And why can't they just say, "unable to place you anywhere at the moment," and leave me in limbo, or even shut down Second Life on my computer with instructions to wait? They could even inform me they are working on things at the moment and just not allow me in. Why do I have to get transported to wait, all torn asunder, unsure where all my bits even are, in a room with a whole bunch of other random peeps? I mean peeps that were in the middle of very personal activities? Peeps having those activities with peeps that their regular peeps have no idea about?
And horses for crying out loud.
It is very traumatizing. I have to tell you I was really panicking, clicking everything in my inventory, unable to make my fingers work on the mouse or my keyboard. I was crying, standing up, gasping for breath, clutching at my throat. I tried to tape a hanky to the screen to cover up poor Blissy but I know that Horse could still see everything. I was screaming, "The horse is looking at me!" "What is that furry thing with the tail doing to the robot?" "Keep that thing away from me." "Oh my God, where is Blissy? I have lost Blissy. Did the horse take Blissy?"
I think I scared my hubby. I turned around and he was standing at the door and there was this real look of fear on his face.
He closed the door, and I can't be sure, but I think he locked it.
I ignored him and turned back to find Bliss.
When I finally got out of there I just wept with relief. I watched anxiously to make sure I completely rezzed and then it hit me. How could I even be sure that I got all my bits and that these bits were not someone else's? What if we were all just mixed up avatars now, forever tainted, the gene pool compromised, because we had been forced naked, parts everywhere, sandwiched in some kind of loser lounge by some asshole in Linden Lab?
I don't feel the same about Bliss anymore. She does not seem herself. She smiles at things she shouldn't and lately ….
… she has been wanting to visit farm sites.
SKIN: New Faces - Kendra [Summer]
BODY PARTS: SLink
HAIR: Truth Anouk - light blondes
EYES: Aphotic Gloom Aquilius Ajardo Green
LASHES: BYKAY Lashes