Category Archives: 0031

00310308

We start again not at Ruby’s wagon but instead at the nearby community of Bear occupying a tiny island in Moomit Bay directly below Monevole. Baker Bloch bares his head in deference to the great King of the island: Ted, of course. Ted Bear. You had to bare something, he gathered, to have an audience with him. The hat would do, Ted indicated to the newest visitor to his islet kingdom. Thank you, he added. He was glad of visitors and wished them 24/7. He was an extreme extrovert, thus his isolation in the bay as everyone around him tired of his constant visiting and hovering. We’ll come to you now, they all said around him, wishing him well on his new venture. He didn’t understand at first, cried a lot, but then came to accept his “imprisonment.” *Selective* extroversion, that’s the key, they said, still gathered around him on the shoreline but shortly to leave, back to their spouses and siblings to heave a big collective sigh of relief that Ted wouldn’t come a knocking on their door tonight or tomorrow night or hopefully ever again. Something is not right with you, they said, almost at the end. This is the only way. And then they were gone. Ted turned on the radio. Storm a brewing. More tears fell. The lighthouse blinked on and off at his bidding but there was no way to go inside. The toys down at the beach played on. His only companions now except for the occasional visitor, the ones who cared. Ted foresaw in the palm leaves the coming of a tall, white eyed stranger, a cowboy, no a spaceman. Half and half, although he wasn’t suppose to use that phrase in front of anyone else. Keep it to yourself, they also said that day they left him on that islet, never to return again to normal existence.

So he was not surprised at the appearance of me, Baker Bloch or Baker B., who fit the description of the prophecy. “You have to bare…” he said to me because it was part of his sentence on the islet. Like I said. “… something,” he completed, looking me over good, picking me apart even. I took off my hat. It seemed to do the trick, like I also said before.

Looking at my shiny dead dome, he decided I should go one or two or five steps further and turn into a bobblehead of myself. “This is so we don’t feel you are talking *down* to us,” he says in his bear voice, tamed from years playing with human children. He hasn’t eaten anybody since ’62. Not since he was an actual bear, himself shot in ’65 and stuffed into a toy. He was soo happy at first! A toy! he cried. I can do *anything*, play with anyone, *be* with anyone. Humans watch out! And they did. And so he was here.

So *I* did, and he promptly gave me what he declared was my own island as a reward… just right over here within close earshot; they could talk all the time, he said, trying not to show too much excitement. I had successfully become one of them, whatever that actually meant.

The wrong Ruby suddenly appeared on the beach across the water. I realized I had been trapped as well. I believe she may have been cackling but it could have been the sound of a sudden gush of cold wind blowing across my bare head. Then the others appeared…

I was no extrovert but it was the same with me. They were irritated and they decided to isolate. I counted at least 7 people on the shoreline who I thought were true friends.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0308, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, Wild West

It started with an outline, then filling in the details which continues.

“Where are we on the map, Baker B.? It’s very important we keep up with the map. We’ve come soo far.”

“Let’s see.” Alter.

“We’ve just found out that Elvira, you know, the aunt of Mrs. Ordinary who lives up in Chapel Vile over on the Corsica continent…”

“Yes?”

“She lives at or near Terriergate, the art gallery in Terriergate. This would be on the very western tip of the Lower Austra peninsula, maybe putting it in the Wild West category instead. You see (W.), I’m having a hard time still dividing the regions of the Nautilus continent up.”

“Do you think the elimination of Collagesity would help?” I waited for more and it didn’t come.

“What do *you* think?” I ventured in the gap. Nothing still.

—–

“A witch summons a spirit in Witch Spirit,” I declared.

“Start there,” a faint voice comes from the darkness in the distance.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0307, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, Rim Isles, Rooster's Peninsula, Slaashsides, Southwestern, Squared Root City, Upper Austra^, Wild West

Elvira

Her flying craft landed with a soft crash on the beach, barely avoiding a dancing Grey.

Well, I’m finally home, she thought, and unbuckled her red seatbelt holding her still naked body secure within.

No need to put clothes on for the extended visit, she figured. Since she was seeing her “mountain man” again, ha. She’d just be out of them in a jiffy.

Scorpios, pheh.

—–

These Greys weren’t as lucky.

Jenny.

No naked.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0306, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, Omega^^, Wallytown/Fishers Island^, Wild West

Island Art revisited

https://bakerbloch.com/2018/09/27/79984/

How could this be the same background painting as mine? Think, Original Ruby. Think!

Is it the woods? she then turned around in her mind. Like a dancer. Impossible. Right? That would mean…

“… everything is connected, yes,” spoke W., in my head at last. Now maybe I can get some work done (!).

—–

The tableau over there by the same artist. This is me (!). Ruby, the dancer in or of the woods. Tree. Red and green in buckets being used to paint the bottom — the roots — but then blue and yellow being poured on the top — the leaves. And the 3 spherical creatures accomplishing the art?

Wood creatures, perhaps. Persimmons. 199, if not 200. Unch. Living Tree. The woods still have power (!). Even though I don’t live next to them any longer. Collageisty is on Nautilus now, as of novel 13. This is from novel 10, when the woods were still strong and omnipresent. There’s a void…

“What is the void?” spoke W. again. I knew I had to get down and examine the art of the gallery more closely. There be the answers. WOOSH.

Yes, that book. Not mine, but…

Alysha’s.

It reminds me of the tesseract.

Down to the first floor…

I’ve seen this before too.

Maybe this in Dennis.

Which might explain this nearby.

Hmm.

I’m changing.

I’m changing.

I’m changing.

Done.

The wrong Ruby winked out. POOF.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0305, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, New Island^, Omega^^, Wild West

two primary cores now, racing to a portal at the corner of a sim

“Who’s that over there?”

Standing up from the magical bench of his namesake island where he was just born, Baker Bloch sees the Fox on top of the lazy and knows he must begin his underwater quest or mission commanded by this nefarious Mr. Low, who lives in the temple ruins just right over…

… there. Not the animal on top of animal spectacle Low the Ancient evilly insinuated, but obvious enough, he supposed. He was told he had exactly 199 seconds now to construct the demanded, fake cemetery and not one second or minute or hour more. One dive, one portal, and 200 seconds later: done.

But the situation had changed from before, the Before Times we’ll call them. Mr. Low didn’t need a highchair positioned above the pretend graves of 3 fallen comrades to know what we’re talking about, calling down to them that he was lowest no more. Shouting down to them.

Because, using hindsight again, he was still a baby obviously, with his lowest of the low tantrums and fits. When will he be able to truly say “hi” to the rest of the world and act like a proper grown up? Probably never, I’m thinking, or a very very *very* long time in the future only guessed at through layers and layers of needed “lesson lives”.


then


now

“One of us may not come back,” spoke Joey to similarly white haired partner/rival Methany on what amounts to be the same island almost 14 years later.

“I hope it’s you,” wittily returned Methany, because it was in the script, the white one. Thanks to the entrapment of Crystal in the art (and pottery) gallery, they had moved past monolithic orange (or red), but blue (or violet) and the possibility of 3 (or even 4) loomed ahead.

“Oh look, here comes Hamlet the 199 pig to remind us that we must act quickly and dutifully to complete our mission or quest.” Blast from the past.

Silence for a bit as neither acted, then, “I can’t believe you held that nasty skull in your hands and talked to it.”

“Only way to find out,” Joey countered. “Let’s go!”, and she dived into the Bay of Pigs first, quickly followed by the other. Surprise move to begin — any small advantage along the way may be the decisive one, she figured. ‘I hope it’s you,’ pheh. Well — right back at you “partner.” She kicked bubbles in her face to reinforce the edge. Feel the bubbles of the lost second, *eat* the bubbles, SWOOSH.

Wheeler always had the advantage thataway over Baker.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0304, Corsica^^, Omega^^, Sansara^^, Splinterwood^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^

1898

It was getting late but she had to go see. Boos!

It was the opposite direction than what she was use to but she adjusted. She’s determined to make Venus and Mars alright tonight.

And then there it was with her right in the mouth of it. Just like poor Rusty before her, with Peter looking on, helpless to, um, help.

He remained in the water, trapped on the Fringe, a TV show after all and not Real Life. Another piece of art.

But *John*…

“That’s enough for tonight,” she determined.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0303, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, New Island^, Omega^^

00310302

“Busted!” police agents Crack and Whack shouted after they broke down the door, leaving Greg Ogden in pieces. No longer would he be known as the artist of the “Monolith…”, history conveniently rewritten. All he had left afterwards was cartoons, sunrise to sunset, Sam and the rest. One day he picked up a watermelon and threw it out the window into the woods and then went there, finding a triangle. He approached cautiously…

“Is the camera on?”

He looked over at the illuminating glow. “Yes I think so, mum.” They settled into their cue spots, got into character. Annnnnd ACTION.

“The *thing* is,” Crystal’s replacement Methany began, emphasizing a different word this take just to spice, er, things up, “I was looking in the wrong triangle before. *This* is the triangle. Where Baker Bloch was born — this island.”

“Rodeo, yes mum,” said Carl, his first line in this scene. No relationship to Karl that I know of, although both seem to be bartenders. His character knew this was Baker Bloch instead of Wheeler Wilson before him, and that dark had switch to light, camera rolling. Thus the white hair, the white script, everything. She *was* the triangle.

Someone’s trapped in the art!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0302, New Island^, Omega^^, Paper Soap, Sansara^^, Slaashsides, Wild West

00310301 (antique art (and pottery))

“Yosemite,” she cussed, seeing where it came from.

She knew the picture of the “Monolith…” *had* to be here. But where?

Suddenly she was gone, a piece of art herself. The price she paid for a photograph.

Or was it a painting? She’ll never know now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0301, Hana Lei^^

00310217

‘There’s that *duck* again. Lemon, pheh.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0217, Hana Lei^^

Madison not Monroe

A car needing a trim.

Next up: the doctor of a home, I mean, the home of a doctor.

Across the road: a Beaut Salon run by Cthy and Selly, but everyone in town knew this was A lie, just like the doctor.

But further in the past, a different story? Caty and Shely if so. And it’s Beauty now.

Just look at that hair!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0216, Iowa