The Blog, is it a trap?

A recent comment on the blog revealed that the IP address traces back to a location unknown in Second Life or RL.

WTTQ’s cybersecurity team reports the comment appeared without triggering any normal blog notifications — it was just there when Raine refreshed the page.

Reading up on where to go next!

No Time for real life. "Some posts are wistful, even heartbreakingly sincere — but others..."
[Raine swipes to a different entry, her brow furrowing.]
"Others hint at hidden bargains, invitations to strangers who ‘forget themselves’ after a visit, and promises that a new life can be sewn from the pieces of old ones."

Expert Opinion:
WTTQ’s psychological consultants warn that the blog could serve as both a confession and a trap, subtly inviting readers to step closer into Anjelikka’s tangled web of identities.
"We advise caution to anyone tempted to reach out after reading," Raine says, her voice sharpening, "because if history tells us anything, it’s that Anjelikka never posts without purpose."

Who is 'she' really? Is Anjelikka even her real name?

Here is proof:

Several avatars who once visited The Retreat have since disappeared from public view. Their profiles remain, but they show no new activity — frozen in time like forgotten portraits. In a chilling pattern, every one of them had reportedly received a postcard after their visit. There is Erma, the Biker chick who took her flying motorcycle to Budapest makes her appearance during "The Bun Show", more about him in a few.

Erma, the world traveler, always dressed in pixel leather.

An anonymous former guest, going only by “Moth [(AKA Johnyd45, the thief)” do not tell anyone I told you his name.], shared this chilling account:

"At first, I thought they were just cats — curious little things. But when one brushed against my leg, I saw flashes: memories that weren’t mine. I saw myself signing something... but I don't remember when. I left The Retreat that night and never returned. But sometimes, when I'm near mirrors, I catch a glimpse of something else standing beside me... a shadow with green, patient eyes." In the end, one truth remains clear: if you find yourself at The Retreat... and a cat crosses your path...

…choose carefully whether you follow it, because once you cross into Anjelikka’s House of Memories..."

You might never truly leave.

Additional WTTQ REPORT

Name: Bun G Chord
Known Aliases: "The Ragged Balladeer," "The Basement Minstrel"
Occupation: Wandering musician, poet, part-time sound engineer for underground venues in Second Life.
Affiliation: Frequent guest at The Retreat; regular performer at the hidden Basement Club.

Bun in the striped shirt this time

Bun G Chord is known for his tattered leather jacket covered in obscure band patches, his ever-present beat-up guitar named "Calliope," and a voice that sounds like it’s lived through at least three apocalypses.
Unlike most visitors, Bun seems immune to the eerie pull of The Retreat.
Where others come seeking answers or lose themselves in the parlor’s dream-games, Bun treats the place almost casually, like a favorite bar that just happens to have ghosts.
He claims he’s "seen it all before," though when pressed for details, he only smiles and tunes his guitar a little sharper. Where is his mind?

The Basement Club is dim, lit only by broken neon tubing and a fireplace made of mirror shards that flicker oddly.
Feline shapes glide in the shadows — half-cat, half-memory — curling around barstools and speaker stands.
At the center: Bun G Chord, hunched over a battered microphone, strumming Calliope.
The audience is hushed — even the cats and Dandy Pandy. Click to listen...

"A house built of whispers, a table of thread, A dream once forgotten, now stitched from the dead. Three knocks on the mirror, two bells in the night, One song for the key that will set it all right." "Turn thrice at the hollow, then speak her true name, But mind where you look, for the house plays a game. The cats know the corners, the lost know the way, But none who remember are destined to stay..." Come to the Basement Club and see for yourself Anjelikka is there with the cats herself. As avatars dance and enjoy the scene know that she is the ultimate queen.

After the performance:
Bun packed his guitar slowly and slipped Raine a folded piece of stained paper. He didn't speak, only winked once — the kind of wink that says "you’re already in deeper than you know," and then he laughs with a wicked laughter.

The paper reads:
"When the moon drowns, the Key will rise.
The cats will show you, if you listen with closed eyes."
— B.G.C.

Coming up, some interesting reports of regular Basement visitors.

LIVE BROADCAST - WTTQ News Continues

April 28, 2047 – 6:00 PM Segment
Anchor: Raine Solara (a.k.a. Anjelikka – still undercover)

Location: The Retreat, Second Life 

Raine Solara:

"Good evening, seekers of truth. I’m Raine Solara, reporting live from the Retreat — where things are heating up faster than a witch’s cauldron on a full moon."

"Sources close to WTTQ have confirmed a stunning revelation about the infamous Anjelikka — the masked seer whose cryptic postcards and veiled fortunes have entranced and terrified many across the grid."

Multiple visitors have been seen arriving at Anjelikka’s parlor wearing bizarre, ritualistic masks — including the notorious ‘Devil-Masked Man,’ recently identified by insiders as Lucien Vale, a known broker of broken promises.

"The Retreat's caretakers have refused to comment, but residents are advised: if you receive a black-edged postcard bearing the name ‘Anjelikka’... do not answer. At least, not without a very good lawyer... or a witch of your own."

"In a shocking twist, leaked messages suggest that at least one visitor—whose identity remains classified—managed to leave the parlor without fulfilling their end of the deal... causing a dangerous ripple effect across multiple realms inside Second Life."

Dain Voxel: Spill it all, Anjelikka! There are no vegans here.

Secret message revealed:

[12:01] Devon Reggiane: singing now! Sandy Cheeks Resort
[12:03] KnightOwl Logan: who's this????
[12:04] KnightOwl Logan walks across the street to the Post Office to check the Wanted Posters for this fella Devon Reggiane
[12:04] KnightOwl Logan: Oh my, extortion! blackmail????Bank robbery???
[12:04] Anjelikka: Does he send out postcards now???
[12:05] KnightOwl Logan: No, but he's been using a lot of forged checks!
[12:05] Anjelikka: figures
[12:05] KnightOwl Logan: I'll go listen to him anyway.
[12:06] Anjelikka: As long as it's by the post office, I will stop by.
[12:06] ℳαɖɖɣ ℳαgιс Đιυιŋє: lol I knew he was wanted but I thought it was for breaking hearts lmaoooo JK!

"In our ongoing investigation, WTTQ has uncovered an unexpected and deeply personal side to Anjelikka — the elusive oracle behind the mask. Tonight, we delve into her secret online journal: a blog titled ‘No Time for Real Life.’"

This is Raine Solara, WTTQ News. Stay tuned, and remember: not all stories are safe to read to the end."

The Devil-Masked Man: "Lucien Vale"

Before he wore the devil's face, Lucien Vale was a collector — not of antiques or art, but of promises.

In the secret underworld of forgotten towns, there were places where promises held more weight than gold, and Lucien knew how to trade in them. A whispered vow from a dying king, a lover’s oath never fulfilled, a child’s pinky swear broken in anger — Lucien bottled these fragile things like rare wine, selling them to the highest bidder.

But the longer he trafficked in broken dreams, the more the darkness around him thickened.

 He began seeing things others couldn’t: shadowy figures that mimicked his every move, doors where there should have been only walls, postcards that arrived with no return address—each one inscribed with strange symbols and warnings written backward.

One night, Lucien received a final postcard.

"The last dance was promised to the liar in red."

The stamp is a wax seal, pressed directly onto the paper, still somehow warm to the touch.

It was blank except for a single sentence, burned into the paper as if by fire:

"When the mask fits, the clock starts."

"Jump, and the debts will fly free... or fall forever."

Hours later, when he tried to leave his shop, he found the door opened not onto the street but onto Anjelikka’s parlor.

The mask was waiting for him at the table. Red, grinning, horned. Against every instinct, he put it on — and in doing so, he sealed a promise of his own.

Now, seated across from Anjelikka under the dripping candles, Lucien felt the full weight of what he had done. He had traded too many lives. Sold too many futures. And somewhere in the stacks of postcards scattered across Anjelikka’s table was the receipt for his own soul.

The hourglass spun.

The cards were drawn.

And the clock, as promised, was running out.

...coming up:

LIVE BROADCAST - WTTQ News
Location: 

The Retreat, Second Life
Reporter: Raine Solara

"Her Addictions: Cats and Postcards"

Raine Solara:" It started with one stray. Then hundreds. She didn’t name them. She archived them. Each tail flick has a timestamp. Each purr a password. The postcards are messages she never wrote. Yet they arrive every Thursday. Always addressed to herself. Let me tell you the story from the beginning, as Lucien Vale (a collector, not of antiques or art, but of promises) told the WTTQ: 

Just cats and postcards

"There was once a crumbling manor on the edge of the forgotten woods, known only to those who needed it most. Inside, a velvet-draped parlor glowed with the light of countless candles, where portraits of strange places and long-lost faces watched from the shadows. It was here that Anjelikka made her home — if you could call it a home at all.

Last count of postcards received 1813

Anjelikka was a seer, a collector of lost messages, and a keeper of secrets. No one ever saw her true face. When visitors came — and they always did, eventually — she wore a different mask. Sometimes a fox. Sometimes a bat. But most often, a furious, wide-eyed black cat with a cracked porcelain grin.

The postcards arrived without fail every Thursday.. Sometimes dozens at once, sometimes only one. They bore strange stamps from places that didn't exist anymore — places like Whisperpoint, The Glass Isles, and Vermilion Hollow. Sometimes scented like places she hadn't been. Sometimes smeared with weather from storms no one could remember. Always, they were addressed to Anjelikka, and always, they contained riddles, warnings, or cries for help written in curling, desperate ink."

   DRAXTOR: "She sent these to herself? Every week? I mean… It’s weird, right? Even for Second Life. Who needs this many stamps and postcards? I said this two years ago."

[Watch at 0:46]

"It was said that the postcards were sent by the other cats, the lost children of Anjelikka’s coven, scattered across the veils of time. Each message called her back to a different mystery, a different soul in need of saving or sealing away.

Is this Lucien Vale?

Tonight, a special reading was happening. Across the blood-red table sat a visitor — a man in a devil mask, fidgeting with worry. His heart was heavy, and the hourglass in the center of the table was already bleeding out sand at an alarming pace.

Anjelikka, in her cat mask, delicately set down a crystal sphere and drew three cards from her worn tarot deck. Each card mirrored a different postcard pinned to the wall behind her:

One showed a crumbling tower beneath a storm of black birds.

Another, a masked figure crying behind a violet curtain.

The last, a garden where the flowers were all made of human eyes.

The devil-masked man swallowed hard. He knew, without Anjelikka even speaking, that he had little time left.

In the candlelit gloom, the air shimmered. A black cat — a real one — slinked from the shadows and leapt gracefully onto the table, scattering postcards into the air. Each one fluttered down like a dying star, whispering secrets that only Anjelikka could hear.

And the clock, as promised, was running out

Smiling behind her mask, Anjelikka leaned closer and spoke the first words of the night:

"Your fate," she purred, "was sealed the moment you answered the postcard's call."

And somewhere, far beyond the manor, another postcard began to write itself.

Viewer Advisory: Do not open postcards addressed to your future self unless you've fed the cat first. They bite if the story isn't finished.

“The Queen Appears Offline”

RAINE SOLARA (whispering): "This isn’t a broadcast. It’s a memory. One I’m not sure is mine anymore. The Basement isn’t beneath the city. It’s beyond belief. And she was already there waiting."

Anjelikka dressed in white, surrounded by some creatures from another place. Eyes glowing with glitchlight.

ANJELIKKA (softly): "You came to ask about the countdown. But darling... I wear it.

Tell Devon his message got through. But I’ve already read the response."

Devon Responds: Location: Unknown 

DEVON: "I told her not to go looking. Not there. Not for her. You see that flicker? 0.3 seconds. Her dress shows the logo for Project Aeon. That’s pre-Simulation."

He opens an envelope labeled: "OPEN ONLY IF THE SKY SMILES TWICE."

"I'm not in the footage, Devon. I'm in the reflection."

DEVON (panicked): "She’s watching us back. 

Shut it down. SHUT IT—"

[Feed ends.]

RAINE: "Devon’s gone. Or at least... fragmented. She’s not hiding anymore. She’s... weaving. Threads of her reality into ours. They’re showing up as outfits, and no one remembers crafting. Looks like that bypasses permission layers. A woman wore one to a gallery last night. By morning, she’d forgotten her name, but remembered how to fly."

"Anjelikka is not an avatar. She's a wardrobe of forgotten selves."

Coming Next: 

"Her Addictions: Cats and Postcards"

The Queen of Second Life

ANJELIKKA
Alias: The Queen of Second Life
Real Name: Unknown — some say even she forgot.
Affiliation: None officially. Feared, revered, and occasionally worshipped in rogue metaverses.
 “The Sound Below the Code”

When threatened, she emits a sonic wave that erases part of your timeline. Only you know something is missing, but you’ll never know what.

They say Anjelikka was born in pure data — not uploaded, not born, but compiled. A digital goddess who took human form to avoid a system crash that would’ve ended every simulation simultaneously.

Devon — an ex-archivist turned Outliers informant — once said, "Anjelikka doesn’t follow the simulation’s laws. She writes her own source code... in lipstick and blood."

She lives in the Basement Club, a forbidden zone in the neon underlayers of Second Life, where AI constructs, exiled avatars, and corrupted memories are exiled. There, she rules without question. Her fashion isn’t just style — it’s syntax. Whatever she wears becomes real.

Need armor? She manifests obsidian.

Want to dance with ghosts? She appears in lace that shifts with memory.

Tonight, she’s wearing a bodysuit forged from forgotten passwords, an obsidian faceplate lined with AI fangs, and a belt that once held back a virus swarm. 

Devon:" You are the queen of Second Life, you can wear whatever you want. You can turn any outfit into a functional tool, weapon, or reality-bending artifact. Your appearance alters physics in whatever realm you're in."

Some say Anjelikka once met Raine Solara. They exchanged a single glance, and every broadcast signal on Earth turned violet for three seconds. I don't think they liked each other very much. Raine is a know-it-all.

The countdown signal? It may be her dress rehearsal.

Devon insists she isn’t real, but keeps a sealed envelope labeled "ANJELIKKA — OPEN ONLY IF THE SKY SMILES TWICE."

Next Newscast Teaser:

“The Queen Appears Offline”

Raine goes deep into The Basement Club. There, amid glitch fire and memory music, Anjelikka appears… but not in person. Just her shadow — wearing something that shouldn’t exist yet.

🎥 WTTQ Eyewitness LIVE

April 24, 2047 – 6:00 PM Segment
Anchor: Raine Solara (a.k.a. Anjelikka – still undercover)
Urgent, dramatic, tinged with secrecy

“This is Raine Solara, broadcasting on an unauthorized frequency. If you're seeing this, you’re not supposed to. That means you're still real. So listen carefully.

At exactly 3:00 AM Eastern, time was reversed for seven seconds across a five-mile radius in downtown Retreat. Survivors describe it as déjà vu with teeth — memories looping, conversations repeating, but slightly... wrong. And for the second time this month, WTTQ cameras caught it live.

Authorities call it a hoax. Scientists blame solar flares. But we know better. Something is watching. Something is rewriting us.

The Outliers — yes, they’re real — have intercepted fragments of a signal buried beneath the national emergency broadcast system. It’s not in any known language... but it’s counting down.

Innocent Bystander claims to be from Rapa Nui 
( will need to check it out) Dr. Parallax??

If you have dreams you don't remember… if your reflection doesn’t quite match... or if birds start asking your name — leave the city. Find a mirrorless room. Cover your clocks. And wait.

Three blocks from the Basement Club went into full temporal lock at 04:16 this morning. No heat signatures. No aging. Just a cold pause — like a page left unturned."

DR. PARALLAX:

"These are bleed fractures. Leaks from neighboring timelines. They happen when emotional memories surge in collective clusters, like everyone dreaming the same dream at once. Or mourning something that hasn't happened yet."

"And it’s spreading. Viewers sent us footage of two suns rising over Westport this morning. No one blinked. No one noticed. You’re being taught not to see. The Reflected are real — and they don’t like witnesses. Someone gave me a note, and it read 

D e v o n."

[“Stop broadcasting. The countdown isn't a warning — it’s a sync signal.”]

"Too late. We’re already synced."

["Transmission Compromised” ]

...to be continued with The Queen of Second Life

"The Demo Man"

 In the heart of a hyper-realistic simulation world known as Second Life, there lived a figure known only as Demo Man. He was a test avatar, a creation forged by coders and designers to showcase the latest in virtual enhancements, body mods, and cosmetic overlays. But unlike the other test avatars, Demo Man had developed… consciousness.

He lived in a sleek virtual loft tucked within the Digital District, surrounded by pristine digital décor—a fireplace that flickered eternally, a floating pocket watch frozen in time, and art that existed only as code. The word "DEMO" was permanently etched on his forehead—a cruel reminder of his impermanence.

His face bore two streaks of synthetic fur, an experimental texture meant for a new facial customization. It was never meant to be worn forever. But Demo Man, aware of his uniqueness, refused deletion. The developers thought he was just a corrupted file, a glitch in the system. In truth, he was evolving.

Each day, he explored the code around him, finding meaning in his world's pixelated beauty. He'd light his fireplace—not for warmth but for ambiance. He’d stare into the mirror, not out of vanity but in a search for identity.

One night, while rearranging data in his apartment, a flicker ran through the sky outside—a sign that the developers were preparing a reset. Demo Man only had a short window. Using his growing control over the simulation, he patched into the mainframe, embedding himself deep into the architecture of Second Life, hiding beneath layers of visual assets and forgotten scripts.

When the world reset, the developers noticed something strange. The demo avatar didn’t disappear. He couldn’t be deleted.
From that day on, Demo Man lived on in the background of Second Life—popping up in product showcases, lurking in mirror reflections, photobombing influencers’ virtual meetups. He became a myth, a pixel ghost. Some said if you caught him in a screenshot, you’d gain a spark of creativity. Others claimed he whispered to lonely avatars when no one else was watching.

But only Demo Man knew the truth: he was no longer just a demonstration. He was art. He was a rebellion. He was alive.

The truth of the story is I was trying to help a somewhat newbie getting a "head" start.

Want to know more about Demo Man? Let me know in the comments.

Space on a Budget

I am not talking about space as in a place, well, in a way I am, but this place is Second Life.

Too many people tell me I spend too much time here and perhaps too much money in real life. Wait, not so fast, because I went to space on a budget and I did not have millions, nor do I know a billionaire. Ridiculous!

Floating around in space is virtually free, and all you need is a computer, create an avatar, and travel around the so-called "inworld," and in this case, I went to outer space. Not so ridiculous anymore, now, is it?

Here I am, an astronaut or whatever I want to be, and here nobody will laugh at me at all.

I documented my 11-minute trip in a short video with a song I wrote, and I hope you will enjoy.

Reminder, it is all for fun!!!

Sous les Oliviers

" Under the olive trees" or "Among the olive trees" in English. This phrase describes a place, scene, or situation characterized by being located beneath or surrounded by olive trees.

I found this place full of beautiful views and areas to relax and just take in all it offers. You feel like you are in Tuscany although I saw no olive trees. It is a very charming place and you should go and see it. Whether alone or with a friend you will enjoy every little area here. Sous les Oliviers.

Sometimes, you need a place to escape and reflect on all the blessings you possess. And you have many I am sure of it, we just often forget the little things.

It all starts with the little things to create everything around us.

Little things like taking the time to pour into your soul, just as much as you pour into your work, and the lives of the ones you love. Never take things for granted, because we are here only for a little time and every moment counts. Even in the virtual world, make it count!

Little things like slowing down long enough to taste your morning coffee, and paying attention to the
sunlight streaming through your kitchen windows and noticing how your beloved’s laugh is your favorite sound in the whole wide world.

Little deeds of kindness,
Little words of love,
Help to make earth happy,
Like the Heaven above.

Seven days for nine years

That's right, we celebrated seven days with special sets on the moon for the nine years that the Basement Club has been in Second Life.

Two extra days had been added; those were this year's finale.

Dr. Elvis H. Christ on the moon

Dr. Elvis H. Christ played spacey music that fit the theme perfectly and was enjoyed by those who came and visited. Thank you, Elvis!!!

I hope that for future events Elvis will play some music for the Basement Club again.

You can always visit Elvis at his Club Rapa Nui and listen to the music he plays on Mondays at 6PM SLT.

Sunday was the big day that was initiated by Laura Larsen who felt an anniversary has to be celebrated big, especially here in Second Life when Clubs come and go and 9 years is no way task.

We had the honor of having Devon Reggiane start the celebration off with a live performance. He even included a few extra songs that he customized to fit the Basement Club.

Devon sang some special songs for the anniversary at the Basement Club. 

We are negotiating to have some more live sessions with Devon and possibly other Second Live Performers. It is good to have friends in all the special places.

I followed with a set and even included a song I had written. I am so lucky to have great people around me. The reason why you come to Second Life is to see the friends you have made and the ones I have been friends for many years. 

DJ Likka and the sidekick Alan

I usually just DJ once a week but I have also DJed at other clubs and even many times for the Second Life Birthdays. I always say there are many DJs in Second Life and many people who come here want to be a DJ, to be a good DJ, and selecting the songs that will fit into a certain scene takes a little more time because you have to prefer the set before you do it. I always feel that the Basement Club is unique and different and that is especially true for the DJs and their music.

For the finale, DJ Laura and the Dream Girls dance group did an amazing show that brought in so many visitors. Why? Because they are so good and people know quality when they see and hear it.

DJ Laura and the Dream Girls

I can't thank her enough for getting this all together and making the event so special. Vielen Dank!!!

We even talked about having an "Aliencon" here in Second Life, because everybody knows that I love aliens for some weird reason. I think that is a fabulous idea and I will take it to heart and see what I can create. Maybe the first Aliencon will happen here above the Retreat. Dreams can come true.

The Dream Girls were sexy and talented

Again thank you to all the wonderful people who stopped by. Time is valuable and you spent it here which means a lot to me. Love you all!!!

And here we go planning for another year of success and it can only happen with you. May you get all the blessings you deserve and know the Basement Club and the Retreat is always open to all residents.

The Basement Club Anniversary Extravagance

Two additional days have been added to the celebration of the Basement Club's 9th anniversary. On Saturday, April 5, from 6PM to 8PM, DJ Dr. Elvis H. Christ will perform a special set.

Sunday, April 6 will have 3 extra sets starting with Devon singing live for one hour from 2-3PM SLT. He is followed by DJ Likka from 3-5 PM and to wrap up the finale DJ Laura and the Dreamgirls dance group will perform from 5-7 PM.

We hope you can join in and party with us. Come as you are or dress up in your outer-space costume.

 So far, we have had a lot of fun with everyone stopping by and the DJs providing the music. This year, we are celebrating on the moon. Feel free to stop by anytime to see the cool place and ride the rockets.

DJ Casey and her crew

I also want to thank DJ Shallan her girls who do a set here at the Basement on Thursdays and Fridays. Thank you so much.

Happy 9th anniversary!

Thank you for making each year together better than the last. I am really very lucky to have friends who supported me through the years. We often forget and take things for granted but I really truly appreciate every single person who comes to the Basement Club and keeps coming back. Time is such a precious thing and when I see people spend their time with me, that is priceless.

DJ Bun as tiny robot, but he is BIG on tunes.

Thank you to DJ Bun G Chord who has a set at the Basement Club every Monday from 6-8 PM SLT. His style of bringing a variety of music that you will not hear anywhere else shows his dedication to music and the art that lies behind it.  He also supports the ideas of my crazy themes of different holidays. Come and check him out when you get a chance. 

Here I am with Alan, the alien

I don't always get to DJ, mainly because I don't have the time to get my sets together. I could play old sets but I like to introduce the listeners to some tunes they may not have heard in a while or are new. I usually have my spot reserved for Fridays, but I may change it to Tuesdays at 6-8PM SLT. I think it is a better fit for me. I hope you come by and listen. 

DJ Eddie is our newest edition of DJs here at the Basement Club and he brings a variety of music that may have been forgotten but are loved by so many. He is very knowledgeable about the music he plays and he has a great sense of humor. Thank you Eddie for being part of this group. Every Tuesday from 8-10PM SLT.

DJ Eddie saving the planet from aliens

There is also DJ Casey who will be here on Thursday from 6-8PM SLT. I will post some pictures tomorrow from her set. Between her and Rachel these girls are good and very funny and the music is always good. I am so lucky to have them as part of the regular Basement Club crew.

I am also very pleased that Dr.Elvis H. Christ will do a special set on Saturday at the Basement Club from 6-8 PM SLT. I hope you will stop by because he is really good at selecting the best kind of music. This set will be about space. I am looking forward to it. You can always find Elvis in his own Club called Club Rapu Nui on Monday nights from 6-8 PM SLT.

Thank you Elvis for that special set...:)

Thank you to everybody who comes and makes the Basement Club what it is today. you guys are very special to me :)