Dillon Levenque

valerie Inshan wrote: Have you made some? If so, did you also got to be friends inwolrd? I must say I feel lucky to have met great friends here and having crossing the line to be friends inworld also! (winks at Maddy, Dee, Hippie, Xiu who is sadly missed....). How about you? I've made rather a lot of friends because of the forums, some of whom are regular friends inworld and some who I just see here, for the most part. I know exactly what those people who have talked about being 'starstruck' mean, too. I think the first time I really met a large number of forumites was at the first "Hoofer's" (that is a small F there, not a T) dance and it was really a treat. Of course Hippie really took that concept to its nth degree with Hippiestock, bless him. We were packed in there like sardines! Couldn't turn around without tripping over someone whose posts you read all the time. I can't believe he's actually going to do it again after our shameless and rowdy behavior. Speaking of Hippie; I saw a reference to how you, Val, and he were like the last two people to post to the GD forum (as I recall Jaen got in a few posts too). That was so odd; it was like you guys were the last people on Earth with reply buttons! I still remember you with that gigantic bowling ball :matte-motes-smile:

Venus Petrov wrote: I have never understood those odd names, much less known how to pronounce them. As a DJ, I like to greet patrons on mic when they enter the club. If someone selects a display name that is easier to prounounce, I will use that. Sometimes people create display names full of special characters (e.g. circles around the alpha) and that makes it even tougher to see and pronounce so I sometimes resort to their original name. If there are numbers, I will shorten it. I'm glad I'm not the only one who hasn't a clue what to do with special characters. There was a new girl at a club I go too all the time Saturday night who stayed until 'closing', joined in the conversation a little, and when it was time to go I was still trying to figure out who to say 'goodnight' to when she poofed. I'm sure she thought we were being rude not to talk much to her but really it was mostly because we didn't know what to call her. I doubt the people that use names like that realize that's holding them back socially. I do try to use people's display names in general because I figure it wouldn't be there unless that's what they wanted to be called. But really the idea of having an unpronouncable name is very counterproductive. IM's are all very well but it's nice when people comment in open Chat about something someone else has said. It's one of the things that drives the social discourse that can make gatherings in SL so enjoyable.

After a quick stop at my quarters to grab some extra clips I return to the concourse. Q'ute sends me a private message; apparently Lillie's interrogation is officially over; there will be some beaurocracy involved but if all goes well I should have her (and her friend Bess) with me soon. Since M has thrown the defense of the City in my lap I need all the help I can find. I suspect that I am being tested once again. It is not like M to make appointments without due notice. I can't help but think there is a backup plan should I fail. Damned well better be. As I'm pondering my options I hear the elevator start and look up to see the Rangemistress. From nowhere Kelinda arrives and takes aim at Keli! I draw and take aim; it's time to end this particular nuisance once and for all

As if things were not happening fast enough the pace has quickened. Kelinda appeared in the middle of an impromptu conference and actually drew on M. There was a brief but incredibly tense moment during which I took aim at Kelinda, and I do believe Caxton was about to throw herself into the line of fire to protect M—she certainly looked as if she was about to spring. M, of course, took that moment to say, "Oh, damn. I chipped a nail". As we all turned to look at M, Kelinda somehow escaped. M completely ignored what had just happened and continued the briefing. "The mole was in fact the person in the sketch. He arrived for the regular meeting and was immediately taken into custody before he could have a chance to use any suicide devices. As it turned out there were none on his person: either he thought himself above suspicion or suicide was not in his plans. He has not been interrogated. He will, in fact, not be interrogated. While being transferred to a safe house he was shot once in the head. He did not survive." M paused while we absorbed that information. "That's right. No place is safe. TOS is here and is desparate. There will be no quarter from them: they must destroy us or accept defeat. The operations we've carried out have hurt them badly. Their only hope is to strike at our heart. They'll stop at nothing. Find them. Eliminate them from the City by any means available." "Levenque: you're in charge. Now go do that voodoo that you do so well." Why in the name of all that is holy did I agree to come back to this?

Q'ute, Keli, and Miss Caxton meet with me on the veranda; there is much to do and not enough of us to do it easily. Keli, as has every weapons trainer I've ever seen, rolls her eyes at my cross-draw rig, but really I don't do it to look flashy. There's actually a perfectly good reason. I'm wearing two guns now for the extra firepower. I normally only wear one gun and because I'm a lefty it feels much more comfortable to wear it on my left hip. The thing is, I'm right-eyed so I shoot with my right hand. Ergo—the cross-draw. It's actually quite convenient; I can shoot people without having to set down my drink.

Void Singer wrote: a lot of people do however seem to forget that even if someone isn't following you, public tweets are still public, and easily mined. That is the thing about Twitter that most bothers me. People in conversation, at least most people, will say things for amusement, or from irritation, or from some other reason that they would never say 'publicly'. But fact is they are saying it publicly when they tweet. I've seen more than one instance of tweets quoted by people who had nothing whatever to do with the conversation and in all instances the purpose was to stir up drama. Given that my primary reason for going to Twitter would be to better my contacts with my SL friends, for me it would be counter-productive. I don't have as much SL time as I'd like now, getting dragged into Twitter conversations would actually take away from my SL experience, not add to it. Whether a connection between LL and Twitter is feasible or a good idea I am manifestly unqualified to say, but it would not be something I'd be interested in. I'll let the brains like Deltango sort it all out.

Nice, Melita. I've not been to any of those places; I'll be sure and correct that over the weekend. Linden Memorial Park looks especially inviting. Thanks.

Even with TOS at our gates—inside our gates, for that matter—MISL must go on with life. I tried to get a meeting with M to request that Lillie be given a temporary release because I know what she and Bess can do, and we need that. Unfortunately Lillie's interrogation was already scheduled. Because the 'interrogation' will be carried out with the idea of recruiting Lillie in mind, there will of course not be any bright lights or anything like that. It will be all very polite, very comfortable, very relaxed. Except that the interrogator's mission is still to extract every single item of TOS knowledge Lillie posesses. I arrive just in time to see Lillie meeting her interrogator, but too late to interupt the schedule. All I can do is obvserve. It seems the dress code for MISL staff has deteriorated in my absence. Suits were the norm for men; at the very least jacket and tie. When I first see Lillie's interrogator I think he's part of the facilities crew or something. The guy looks more like a gypsy than a highly skilled espionage agent. There are some introductions; everyone is still acting as if Lillie's interview is purely voluntary. I notice that Lillie and the 'gypsy' seem to be making a lot of eye contact while all this his happening. By the time Quinn has finished introducing everyone and explaining the schedule they're practically staring at each other. Quinn asks the interrogator a question and he has to clear his throat a couple of times before he can talk. I have to look away to keep from smiling. Finally everything is arranged and Lillie and her interrogator enter the room and close the door. I could swear I see Lillie give him a thigh brush as they go through the doorway. I have a feeling there may be rather more debriefing going on in there than would normally be the case.

Happy Victoria Day, Dee (what's left of it anyway). I'm glad I got to be there for at least part of your anniversary celebration, although I missed seeing Lillie. I'm still wondering why that fella with the Italian-sounding first name poofed almost the instant I got there, though. Happy Anniversary (again) and thanks for inviting me over!

Deltango Vale wrote: I must admit I'm puzzled why I would want to create an avatar page? account? (I still don't understand the system even after looking at examples) when I have an active, 3D global presence in SL. Why would I trade a Ferrari for a pickup truck? Because if I have to move, it will take too many trips with the Ferarri to move all the boxes of cassette tapes and 35mm slides. With the pickup I can do it one go ;-). For the record I do not and shall not have a FB account.

Marigold Devin wrote: Well, one of the Lindens waved a magic wand at me, and I was made very very small so I could crawl into one of the servers and see what the other little Lindens do in there. :matte-motes-tongue: Sure, and did you not see any little tiny ghosts while you were in the machine? As to the OP, not everyone in SL is really into graphics. Content creators almost always are—Ishtara clearly is, as is Torley. Even so, a lot of us are here mostly for the pleasure of the community, and graphics is really only a small source of that pleasure. I am more impressed by cleverness in content than by looks. As for calling people brown-nosers: pfft

I awake to the sound of someone knocking on the door. Loudly and insistently. Stifling a groan, I get out of bed, pull on a robe, and go to the door. Checking to make sure the bolt is still closed, I speak through the door. "What?" "I'm sorry to bother you. I have a message that I must deliver." "A message from whom?" After a slight pause I get an answer. "I don't really know. The message was handed to me with instructions to deliver it to your apartment." "Does it make a ticking noise?" I hear through the door a noise that sounds a bit like a suppressed giggle. "No, no. It's just an envelope. Really." I open the door and see a young woman in the standard Measly uniform with an envelope in her hand. She looks at me, rather wide-eyed, and holds out an envelope. On it is written, To: Pink From: Soccer Mom "Thank you", I say, taking the envelope from her hand. "It's an honor to meet you, agent." "You didn't.". I close the door. Sheesh—these kids today. There is a single sheet inside the envelope. This is worse than anything I can imagine. The previous TOS incursion was both expected and planned for. Even though their agent Guido was much more resourceful than expected, we still knew where they were and usually what they intended. Now I learn that they've managed not only to get through security but take someone out with them. I put the just opened first volume of 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire' back on the shelf. Gibbon will have to wait, it seems. I check that both Berettas have full clips plus one in the chamber. Time to go back to work. I need to get Lillie; she should be eligible for a 'work furlough' given the circumstances.

I get the call and go to the spot chosen—a hidden section of the city, where power is generated by methods not well understood. Quinn is already there, looking like she's just getting ready for a walk in the park—new dress, freshly coiffed, the whole bit. I hate her. M arrives and wastes no time. "Who?" Quinn hands her the sketch without a word. M stands as still as a statue for a few seconds, her face a mask of calm. She hands the paper back to Quinn. "I'm sorry to say I am not surprised." Quinn asks, "What do we do now? If the Director of Counter Intelligence is a mole, who can we trust? How will we uncover all he's done?" "One thing at a time, Q. First I have to deal with the excision. There's the usual Friday afternoon tea session scheduled ; he'll be there along with all the other directors. I'll make arrangements" M speaks quietly into her phone and within minutes Keli has arrived. M gives her a quick briefing and Keli departs, to return a few minutes later with Lillie and someone I've not met, who is introduced to me as a pyrotechnician. I expect there will be fireworks of several kinds in the offing. M leaves Lillie and I in Keli's care and departs with Q'ute and the pyrotechnics expert. Lillie is escorted back to her quarters and I return to mine. Someone else will deal with the immediate problems; for a change I've no urgent assignment. I take a long hot bath, slide gratefully between the sheets, and drift into oblivion.

The minute we make our way through the checkpoints and back into the Forgotten City I request a meeting with M. Quinn must be drooping with fatigue and Lillie and I are both near our limits, but I know from Quinn's reaction to seeing the sketch of the Mole that she has information that cannot wait. We're met at the main entrance by Miss Caxton and Rangemistress Keli (who asks me if I am on my way to the firing range: I'd not had time to disarm). I try to impress upon Caxton the urgency of the situation, and she assures me that she will try to arrange a meeting with M as soon as possible. At least, I think that's what she says. She keeps sort of brushing her hand across the gun in her thigh holster; it's very distracting. Quinn heads for her quarters to check in; I go with Lillie to the section of guest apartments that's been set aside for her; she's not a prisoner but at this stage she can't have free run of the HQ. She knows what to expect and I hope we can get past all this soon. I go to my own apartment to store my guns. The temptation to stretch out on the bed is almost irrestistable, but I know we're meeting with M soon. I wash my face and wait for the call.

Blondin Linden wrote: Hi again. Here is what you should do. Create a support ticket and assign to Jillian Linden. I've already given her a heads up that you'll be doing so. She can take it from there. She's one of the best! @James: I hope you did as suggested and please report back; this is really fascinating. I agree that it looks extremely phoney and there is no way I would go along with it even if I knew it was real, blocked numbers or no blocked numbers.

Wicked Galaxy wrote: ok so.. did the big day come and go? did it happen? are ya hitched? if so.. I will continue my pouting and continue my worshiping you from afar.... if not... ..... ..... I don't think it happened, either on the 6th or on Friday the 13th (which would have been my choice had I had one). There is evidence that either it did not happen or that it did and as soon as this the groom has returned to his oft-commented upon faithless behavior. In fact, he may even be dating someone from this very thread, who describes said date so beautifully here: Dating a Kittycat

Peewee Musytari wrote: I would say the proportion of liars in SL is probably about equal to how many there are in RL. This could have something to do with the fact that behind every avatar is a RL person. I'm pretty sure there is a connection. You know, I think you might be onto something there!

After leaving the phone room I had a short meeting with Quinn and the Chief of Station. M had already sent him a radio message advising him to locate a sketch artist and to let him know I might bring someone in. While he was looking through his contact list I asked Quinn if I could 'borrow' her bodyguard; I'd no idea who or what might be out there waiting but the mission had reached a point at which I wanted to be as well prepared as possible. She readily agreed, but when we looked in the waiting room we found it empty. A quick search of the open parts of the station revealed nothing. To say I was surprised that a bodyguard would be absent from her protectee would be a severe understatement. On my way to meet with Lillie I stopped for just a moment in a little park off Unter den Linden. It seems I'm forever doomed to visit places of beauty, all the while looking over my shoulder. A drake and his mate paddled through the pond. I envied them their serenity. I made my way to our pre-arranged rendezvous to meet with Lillie. It was a very public place but since none of us could count on going unnoticed here, a public place was as good a rendezvous point as any. At least it had the bonus of allowing us to see who else was watching. I was dismayed to learn she'd been approached by Quinn's bodyguard, who must have been eavesdropping at the door when I talked to Quinn and the Chief of Station. There's no question now that whoever this girl is, she has her own agenda. Lillie and I made our way back to the station (still no sign of Annie Oakley) where the sketch artist was set up and ready to go. Lillie sat back, closed her eyes, and started to describe who she saw. From time to time the artist would ask a question about chin length or cheekbones, but mostly he just drew while she talked. After a bit he asked her to take a look. "No. It looks a little like him, but no. His face was thinner. And I think he had a straighter nose. Something about the eyes is wrong, too, but I can't quite tell what." The artist went back to work, and asked Lillie to look again. "That's much closer. Still not right with the eyes. I think it might be the eyebrows; I remember he had sort of peaked eyebrows, very unusual looking." After more tries, Lillie was asked to take another look. "Yes!. That's him, or his closest relative. I'd know him anywhere." I look at the sketch but see nobody I recognize. Whoever he is he's someone who never had direct access to agents. I take Lillie into the other room and ask Quinn to come back with me. Quinn takes one look at the sketch and gasps, loud enough to startle the artist. I make a mental note to beg M not to put Quinn in the field again, ever. Duplicity is just not her style. I thank the artist and escort him out, where he is paid and thanked by the Chief of Station and sent on his way. "He's big, isn't he?", I ask Quinn. She nods. "Very. We've got to contact M as soon as possible." "We can't. The scrambler phone connections have to be pre-arranged and there's no way we can put whatever you know on the air, no matter how well encrypted. We have to go. NOW." "What about Kelinda?", Quinn asks. I recall that's the name of the erstwhile bodyguard. "Let her catch up with us if she can. I think Lillie and I can keep you safe." I go into the other room to talk to Lillie and let her know we're on the run once more. Quinn gathers her things and we leave through the 'secret' exit that probably less than half of our enemies know about. Next stop, the Forgotten City. The Berlin Project

After a much too brief reunion with Quinn I went inside and was introduced to the local Chief of Station, someone I'd never met. He guided me to the soundproof room where I would make my call to M. I noticed something new had been added since my last visit here, so long ago. I asked what the box next to the phone was all about. "I'm not entirely sure. I think it somehow 'breaks up' the signal from the phone and mixes it up so that even if someone does find a way to tap into the line all they'll hear is unintelligible noise. Supposedly a similar machine at the other end puts everything back together. Someone from HQ comes once a month to change the settings and I am under orders never to alter them. To be honest, it's something of an enigma." He leaves me to make my call in complete privacy. I think about what I'm going to say. What I'm going to ask. There will be no going back from this. I've made my committment. I pick up the phone, and after a few seconds I hear the slightly tinny sound of a reconstructed voice. "Talk to me." "Thank you for agreeing to this. I had something I could not talk about any other way. Since I made my request I've found something else even more important. I'll start with that". "Go on." "You know that I'm travelling with a former TOS operative. You probably don't use the word 'former' but I'll let that go for now. I learned less than a day ago that she may have actually seen the Mole. While on a brief visit to TOS HQ—the old one—she stumbled into a security breach which involved someone supposedly an MISL Officer being escorted as an honored guest. At the time she thought it might have been a defector. There haven't been any high level defectors, have there?" "None." "I didn't think so. It's very likely the man she saw was the Mole. She's a sniper. She knows how to recognize faces. She's here, or near here. I know we can't let her look at pictures of MISL officers, but if there's an artist available to the Station perhaps she can describe who she saw well enough to make an image that is recognizable. I've asked and she is more than willing to do that, provided she isn't taken into custody while she's here". "It should be possible to let her inside long enough to do what you suggest without compromising security. It's not as if TOS doesn't know our Berlin location. I'll put things in motion. Wait." The line goes silent. I wait. "Arrangements have been made. But you haven't asked what you really wanted to ask, have you?" I know she knows. I don't know how she does that, but I know she knows. "No. I haven't. Lillie wants out of TOS. She may even want to join us, and I know she would be a welcome recruit. But there's a chance she'll want out altogether. I want to know that she'll be allowed to walk free if that's her decision. I've promised her I'll protect her, and I can't bring her in if she'll be imprisoned for her past activities. I won't bring her in. I'm asking you for your word that she can leave Forgotten City a free person if she wishes." Silence. "Please, M. I've never asked you for anything. I owe her. She saved my life." "You've asked me for things times without number, Dillon. Although I don't believe I've ever heard you say 'please' If she does leave her safety will not be our concern. She'll be a TOS target for her betrayal. She'll be on our watch list and subject to immediate action should we even suspect she's betraying us. She needs to understand that." "She's quite aware of that." "Go. See if she can describe our Mole. Get her here. And Quinn. Protect them. We need them here." "Thank you." The line drops. I turn away, draw my first full breath in what seems like hours, and move to the door. It is time to go into action.

With a few well-placed bribes we managed to find transport. I got at least a catnap while we were travelling but I've not really slept since we left the Islands, and I think Lillie is in the same condition. I'm not sure how long we can stay sharp, and where we're going now even a minor oversight could prove deadly. I love Berlin but it is and always has been the focus for nearly every agency in the metaverse. Everyone watches everyone else. There is not the slightest chance that I will not be observed going to our station; the same is true for Lillie. For that reason I've had her stay out of sight; if I can convince M to agree, I will bring her in; if not—we will have to go our way in the world. Just stepping off the train takes me back. I have an urge to walk Unter den Linden and find a warm Kaffeehaus. I can almost see Bernd sitting across from me again, waiting for me to finally stop making small talk and tell him what he needed to know about what TOS was doing. I wonder if he ever realized how much I loved him. I hope he didn't. I make my way to our station and am astonished to see Quinn waiting at the doorway. I'd hoped that M would send someone I could trust, and clearly Quinn is that and more, but Quinn is no field agent. She shouldn't be here at all. I can only guess that M wanted to make sure I knew I was being taken seriously. I'm glad of that but I wish there was a way to do that without putting Quinn so far into harm's way There's someone else here as well, and I think she must be acting as Quinn's bodyguard. I've not seen her before. I'd remember. Imagine a petite girl in a pretty blue dress. Now imagine her waving a couple of pistols. She looks like she might be the offspring of a mating between Pollyanna and Billy the Kid.

I've thought about just taking off and doing something like that but I never seem to have time. It looks fascinating; maybe I can just read your travelogue and be an armchair adventurer. I can tell it will be fun reading—the row v wade gave me a giggle. Thanks for going to all that work!

LOL. Thank you for that, Dres. I love when things just go completely nuts in an otherwise relatively normal discussion. :smileyvery-happy:

I just bought a pair on the Marketplace; sorry I can't recall the name. But I can tell you if you search the Marketplace for 'combat', then apparel, women's, footwear, boots (I know that's a lot of clicks but it works) you'll find pages of boots at least half of which have flat heels. Some sexy, some utilitarian, some combative (which for wrestling might be just the ticket ;-).

In as little time as it takes to tell about it, my life is complicated beyond comprehension. I thought I'd heard a cell phone; it was Lillie's. Even though I couldn't hear what she was saying it was obvious she was giving the caller an earful. She closed the phone and actually stopped to pull the battery. I figured it must have been an old boyfriend or something. She yelled at me to stop and told me there were things she had to tell me. The first thing was that the phone call was from O, head of TOS. He was telling her she needed to connect back in with TOS to save herself. She told him pretty much where he could place that idea (not sure if she suggested he fold it three ways first). She was flabbergasted that someone at that level would contact her. She didn't think much of O, and having heard her side of the conversation I'm not all that impressed myself. For one thing, he told her Guido was stupid. I've seen Guido in action. He is my enemy, but stupid he ain't. If TOS doesn't evaluate their people any better than that, we're better off than I thought we were. Then Lillie related a story from her TOS past that she had never thought mattered much. Just an odd incident at TOS HQ where she'd been more or less accidentally in the same place as someone from MISL. I may have stopped breathing for a bit. There's a very good chance Lillie has actually seen the Mole. If so, she'll be able to recognize him. Her vision and pattern recognition skills are what singled her out for sniper training, and a lot of that training had to do with memorizing faces. It's an important part of a sniper's job to be able to select the correct person to shoot. I ask, and Lillie doesn't think she ever told Guido about the incident, which happened before she was assigned to his team. But she isn't sure. I'm in the company of someone who may be able to identify the TOS mole working for MISL. TOS may be aware of that knowledge. Our danger level has just gone through the stratosphere. So much for spending a pleasant night luxuriating in the Tokyo Hilton. We need to move, just as fast as we can. I hail a cab.

A few steps away from the Jaguar I see Lillie waiting. I stop to unfold the note I got from the bartender. As I'd hoped, it's a printout with the destination M has picked for my 'phone home'. I smile; it is a good choice, I think. One of our oldest stations and one where I have always felt very much at home. But in the bottom half is something written by hand. A haiku, occidental style: you only live twice once in the life you think real once in Second Life I wonder who wrote it. I decide it must have been the bartender. He had a poetic look. On our way back to the hotel we wander into a district that looks as if it has not changed for a generation, possibly two. In a way we're separated from reality; I feel as though the problems behind us and ahead of us are somehow not real. I think perhaps Lillie is feeling the same thing, as we chatter and look at all the things in the shops. Japan Dream