Category Archives: Rubi^

July 25, 2018 · 6:55 am

ending 04

They were destined to become best of friends.

“So how did you get *here*?” Indigo asked.

“I don’t know. I suppose I died,” Ruby answered matter-of-factly. “Pain links the two dimensions, New Island over there, and then Collagesity and Heterocera as a whole here. It’s happened before. But I don’t think it’s going to happen again. Once you go through that door you don’t come back. I was standing too close to Ground Zero to survive. I may have *been* Ground Zero for all I know.”

“Zero is my sister.”

“Ahh,” Ruby exclaimed, light bulb turning on over her head as she shifted her weight against the knitted ottoman. “That might explain it, yeah.” Ruby thinks back to what she saw around the corner of the doctor’s ice cream truck. Bound Shirley Boot. But then, at the same time, Ragdoll. Back and forth. Flickering, even. Just before… or maybe it was just *after*, confusingly. Time messed up.

“Maybe everyone on the island survived in their own way,” theorizes Indigo. “Just in their own, other dimensions. Mabel can come back and forth as well, after all. Here, and then there.”

“Maybe not any more,” the now eternally 15 1/2 year old answered. “I think she might be trapped over there. I’m pretty sure of it actually. Which means…”

“No Battle for Collagesity between Mabel and Bill coming up.” Indigo blew out a puff of air. “Well… *that’s* a relief anyway. I saw enough of war growing up in South Bennington. Blacks vs. Blues. Greens vs. Grays. Any color you like or could guess would wage battle against another given half a chance. The Multicolors saw to that.”

“Who are they?”

“The ones that stand above the fray and cause it.” Indigo halted her thinking in that direction, a long honed practice. Enough was enough: back to Ruby and the situation at hand. But, just then, she spotted the wolf and pointed out the window. “Look. A hound of some sort.”

Ruby saw it too, emerging from the dark void of the woods. As it continued to approach, the girls realized it was blue. It barked but the yelping seemed to say something. They couldn’t quite make it out yet.

“Did you hear it too?” asked Indigo to her new friend.

“Yes. Something like: ‘The Friend’.”

Indigo was sure that wasn’t it. “Dare we go out and speak to it directly?”

Ruby shrugged, indicating: what’s going to harm me *now* after what I’ve been through.

—–

“Oh what a *beautiful* dog… wolf. Just what I needed to cheer me up! How are you boy? Girl?”

It yelped, repeating what it “said” before.

“Okay, that was clearer,” Indigo declared. “‘The End.'”

“Or is it…” Ruby opined, “just…”

The wolf howled, reinforcing the finality.

“No. It’s ‘The End’.”

END OF “COLLAGESITY 2018 MIDDLE”!

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July 24, 2018 · 8:11 am

ending 03

So Ragdoll showed her sister Indigo the bank in question. Over in Tiretta, not 1000 meters from their trailer, she explained. “You see, if a bank like this began at the bottom of a sim — 0/0, say — and extended in a diagonal to the top of the sim — 256/256 — the whole Diagonal within the sim would become the master number. The point becomes a line. That’s the despair part: no single, pointilistic master number. Instead: the bank; the line.”

“Slow down, slow down,” offers Indigo. “I’ve seen the pictures you’re referring to.

From the Archive.

And how it seems to resonate in that set of collages over in — where was it?”


Archive again.

“Um, I can’t remember the name of the sim. But it’s very near the Kerchal Woods.”

“Which could have another, smaller diagonal attached to it — just as a sidenote. But, if this Greenup series is so important, why isn’t it in Collagesity presently? Why did we have to go all the way over to the Sansara continent?”

“Our joint users are working on that. I suppose you heard—”

“Yes,” answered Indigo, guessing what her sister was going to say. “The house on The Diagonal where they were creating the new New Island story has been derezzed. Another magic typewriter — poof.” Indigo threw up her hands as if releasing a puff of smoke.

“Just like with New Island and the Troll Cave there.” Ragdoll then pointed to the ground. “But this is what father showed me and added to it. The name of the property, Indigo: Drongallia. Which contains the word Diagonal, along with an extra ‘r’. The Gods can’t be *too* obvious with these things. Need to leave some mysteries.”

Indigo saw the name too in the ‘About Land’ description. “Yes.” She had quickly calculated the odds of this happening by chance. ‘Astronomical’ came the answer.

She sat down on a green mushroom in a cluster of 5. Ragdoll joined her.

“49/50 for me, sister.”

“50/50 for me.” Ragdoll then admitted something to her sister. “I’m starting to get those urges, a bleed-through from the other side. My *new* self.”

“Right. Father warned me about that. Well…” Indigo deliberated where to begin with that talk, but decided now was not the time. Instead: just some encouragement. “Treat the flea itch first. Then you can work on that other itch.”

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July 24, 2018 · 7:38 am

ending 02

They changed back to their normal forms before hitting the hay. Angus never slept as Sid, and he didn’t want to set a bad example for Ragdoll. This was their *primary* form. The New Island alternate should be just that.

—–

Ragdoll pondered later on in bed: He didn’t even ask me what part of The Diagonal I was thinking of. Poor father! He should go on a vacation after this. And he can! Now that he no longer works for the Perch restaurant as a chef. Bill came all the way out here to apologize for the firing, as we knew she would. She wants to round up as many townspeople as she can in her corner before Mabel’s return — ‘nother queen; War of the Queens. But the dehypnotizing or unhypnotizing or “waking up” didn’t proceed as planned. We assumed that we could just *talk* about that night and the memories would flood back. That’s what happened before with Frank and Alma.

Her thoughts turned back to that particular spot on The Diagonal as she turned in bed, trying really hard this time to get some sleep. “Hucka Doobie’s Bank of Despair,” she mumbled aloud. “That could do the trick.”

—–

The next morning:

“Hucka Doobie’s Bank of *What*?”

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July 24, 2018 · 6:53 am

ending 01

“Don’t you guys watch anything but MTV?” complained Bill/Wheeler good-naturedly.

“I’m telling you Queen Bill.”

“Bill, please. Or The Bill. Whichever.”

“You were sitting *right* there when you told me we had to move our trailer here to Rubi. Well, not in that chair, but the chair I use to have over in Obscure.”

Bill tested the springs again a little. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about this furniture — we’ll get you a better chair. And the toilet in the living room!

Unacceptable. I’ll get Clyde the town fixit man out here as early as I can. He’s working on the pipes of the Oo’d Church this weekend. But we’ll get him out here asap.”

“The dining room set is nice,” states Angus Nuffin, attempting to paint a brighter picture of their situation than Bill.

“No, this is my responsibility. I’m early in my rulership. I’ll right the wrong.”

“Okay, that’s great Bill. We really appreciate it. Now… back to that night you visited me in Obscure…”

—–

“She just doesn’t remember it,” Angus complains to his daughter Ragdoll later on while sitting at the dining table. “And I don’t know how to jog her memory. She’s new at her job — *I’m* new at this. Indigo can *hypnotize* with the best, but unhypnotizing someone like Bill (he was going to say, “as stubborn as” but decided on “like” here) — not as easy as I, we, supposed.”

Ragdoll listened intently. “Then maybe The Diagonal itself should wake her up. Indigo could take her on a walk in the woods…” She paused, thinking of a better idea. “Or…”

“Obviously, Obscure is no good, since we moved the trailer from there because of the lowered energy.”

Ragdoll remained patient, knowing her beloved father was under a lot of pressure right now to bring back Bill’s memories. “What I was going to say,” she continued in her kind way, “is that we should take her to a particular place on The Diagonal. But not Obscure.”

“Right, right. Sorry I interrupted you there.” Distracted by a sound behind him, Angus looked at the clock. 2:01 in the morning. “We better get some sleep. Looks like Indigo is staying in the woods again tonight. Good for her! I couldn’t ask for 2 more dedicated daughters to the cause. Pot-D forever!”

“Pot-D forever!” echoed Ragdoll almost as enthusiastically.

“Before you turn in, sweetie, let’s take one more look at your brand new alternate self.”

“Okay, but only if you change in turn,” replied Ragdoll sweetly.

“Alright, Zero. On the count of 3, then. 1…2…”

“You look great, Ragdoll.”

“Shirley, please. When I’m in this form.”

“Of course.” Angus/Sid watched Ragdoll/Shirley scratch again. “But we have to give you something for those fleas, birthday girl.”

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July 19, 2018 · 10:07 am

switcher

“You see, it’s so peaceful in here compared to your church.”

“My *former* church. I’m with you all the way, Pitch darling,” Mary whispered back to her vampire husband. “Martha Lamb’s just gone plain *loco* with these urges of hers…. exposed for what she really is if you ask me.”

“Precisely. The Cult of Oo’d always admits such urges and encourages their uses. Cheese blocks them out. But cheese *is* the urges.”

“Can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

“Right.”

Bill, the Queen of Collagesity, finished up her rant and turned toward the victim. It was always the same ritual.

“Don’t kill me, sir, er, ma’am,” the bound clown begged. “I have so much to live for!”

—–

“Oops! That was really a squirter, Pitch, haha!”

But then suddenly loud talking Mary, all eyes upon them, turned red herself from embarrassment.

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July 17, 2018 · 5:35 am

Achilles

An invisible cartoon boy, Martha Lamb thinks, studying Falmouth 36 once more on the 4th floor of the Fal Mouth Moon gallery. Hugged and loved by a visible cartoon girl with red shoes. Perhaps they are future lovers, or perhaps brother and sister. Maybe he has a defect that hides him from view — a malady — but is loved by his sister still. Odd that I think this, she ruminates.

Then over here, further away in a field, the inversion: girl invisible and boy visible. The “E” on the next collage over blinks on and off. This *is* love; mutual exchanging.

If I could just *reach* into the collage… somewhere about… here.

Or is it here?

Here?

—–

So close yet so far. How to get from there…

… to here. Swish away the pain into the ice and snow and make it all go away. Football successfully kicked.

—–

“‘Copyright Protected Image’,” she read from the picture in front of her. “And to think I was going to get rid of all this in Collagesity, Sid my dearest. But now I think it is a gateway to the Great Beyond, fries and liquor be damned.”

“You shouldn’t say that about your church,” Sid offered. “You were so devoted to it before.”

She turned to him. “The Diagonal changed me, made me into a true woman. I was like two-dimensional before. *You* changed me.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that…”

“All that’s left is the hand and how to break through. Without pain. They say that there’s no gain without pain, but I’m thinking of something else.”

“Yeah, Martha. I need you to listen tonight.”

She went on. “It’s the 36th collage of this series all right. I’ve been studying it nightly for going on half a week now. The Diagonal is giving me energy to understand.”

Sid grabbed her hand in order to stop her. “Listen, Martha. We need to talk. About The Diagonal.” He let go of her hand. “We can’t use it in that way any more.”

“No?” Her voice was suddenly far away, as across a field.

“No,” he said firmly. “I need to tell you the story of who I really am, how I really got here. It all started with the firing.”

“Firing?” Tears formed in her eyes despite her efforts. “What firing?”

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July 16, 2018 · 9:24 am

daydream

“Okay. But it was definitely Smelly Santy. You remember — from the Mission. The eggs, Bill. They must have killed him (!). The Bennington experiments.”

“Nasty place. Even I would admit that.”

“Dwayne, a complaint from the customer at Table D.”

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July 16, 2018 · 8:10 am

fired

Angus Nuffin was happy. He knew this would be his last night as a chef at Perch Restaurant. Last piece of tuna in the fridge — everything was set up. Yes, there’s his supervisor Dwayne coming round the corner after taking The Bill’s order.

“Nuffin, this is a *very* special customer. One grilled tuna for the new queen of Collagesity, *lightly* cooked.”

“Coming up boss.”

“And *don’t* sit around on the appliances if you’re not cooking. *Clean* or something.”

“Right you are boss.” Nuffin nimbly hops off the dishwasher and heads to the fridge.

—–

“All right Dwayne you bastard,” Angus mutters under his breath. “Just move along so that I can burn this baby to an utter crisp.”

“I recognized him immediately, The Bill.”

“Bill will do. We’ll think about the royal appellation later.”

—–

There you go.

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June 27, 2018 · 6:46 am

Darkly Manor

“Looks like no one’s coming to our little soiree, Osborne.” Pitch appears to listen to a nonexistent voice across the table from him, white hand to white ear. “What’s that? You forgot to send out the invitations to your 478th birthday?” Pitch settles back into his black widow chair. “Well, yeah I did, Osborne. Because I want to be alone with my thoughts tonight. And you my friend, with your batty, flying books, don’t count.”

Main problem: His wife Mary had gone with Martha Lamb to the *main* Fries with Cheese Church over in the Pond District to meet the higher ups, she said, seemingly so excited about the visit that Pitch’s birthday was forgotten. Oh well, he tried to rationalize. It wasn’t the 475th or the 480th or any of the important ones. Pitch himself forgot his 321st, 351st, 378th, 421st, and 457th. But having a wife is different; in his mind, he was thinking she was suppose to remind *him* of such occasions.

Did he do something to offend her? he wondered. Let’s see, her birthday is February 25th. Checks to that — he got her a nice bouquet of roses, red and blue both. 1st Date Anniversary — also a check. White lilies this time. At least a half dozen, he speculated. “Osborne,” he pipes up again, “you’re good with counting. How many lilies did I give Mary for our date anniversary?” He listens to the nonexistent voice again. “12, hmm. Twice as many as I remembered. See, there’s no reason for her to be pissed off at me. It *had* to be an oversight.”

But his thoughts turn again to Sister Martha Lamb, a person he did not trust one iota. Mary has had private counseling sessions with her up in that stinky church of hers and always came home acting a little weird to him, like a distance had formed between them. She was quite happy and content to accompany Pitch to the services at the Cult of Oo’d Church before the coming of Lamb and her Fries with Cheese intrusion next door. Sure she was disgusted and angry that time some of the sacrificial blood squirted her way and ruined one of her Sunday Best dresses. They don’t sit in the front pews any more; problem solved.

A knock at the front door downstairs. Pitch looks hopefully over at Osborne. Mary! he thought. Rushed home to apologize.

But it was “only” his good friend Woody Woodmanson from up the road, large present in hands. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a party,” his wooden comrade relayed to him after the handoff. You know how many friends you have in town. But I guess you and Mary probably just wanted to be alone, hehe.” He tried to nudge his friend in the ribs, but just swiped air. Woody was not the most coordinated of avatars

Afterwards:

“This is not what I expected Osborne. He’s always given me keys before.”

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June 26, 2018 · 7:40 am

stares

Turchin McGurchin was tidying up Mabel’s original Scarlet Creative Sylvia House when Ruby silently entered. “Don’t let me scare you old man,” she said to him from behind.” Turchin laid his broom aside and they hugged. 2 weeks was long enough to make a good friend.

—–

“It’s so beautiful here,” Ruby spoke while staring out across the expanse of the Rubi Woods from her higher perspective on the tire swing.

Turchin nodded from his chair while trying to fight nodding off at the same time. “Yup. Sure ’nuff is.”

Ruby just sat for a while, taking in the calmness and serenity. “Shame Mabel can’t live here… in this one.” She glances toward the SCS house just to her left now.

“Mabel will be back soon enough,” Turchin offered in his countrified manner of speaking. Slow and easy. “Best she’s not here for a spell — till she fully gets over Buurb. Yup, I saw it coming, all along.”

Rubi looked down at Turchin, then, after a smaller pause: “Do you think they still love each other?”

“Hard to tell. Since Buurb’s a girl again…” He lets it go at that.

Ruby stares down at her crossed feet. “Of course.”

—–

Turchin caught Ruby up with town news since her two week stay about a month back, a visit no one currently around remembered except for him. Maxism was on the rise again, thanks to the crafty graffiti he painted last Tuesday in the vacant Stairs gallery — and has added onto in the meantime.

Keep directing your stares toward Max, was the overall message he wanted to plant. Turn it up to the Max, was a related catch phrase he was tinkering with. “You can see Max anywhere from town if you turn up your draw distance to the max — 512 meters,” he explained to the 15 year old. “Fate,” he tacked on. Ruby asked about the other two religions in town and what would happen to them. “They’ll implode,” Turch said in uncharacteristic sharpness. “It’s just suppose to be Ruby — you — and Max.” But he was wrong about that.

—–

In his reinstated apartment, smoking and observing Roger Pine Ridge waited for someone to reenter Collagesity from the woods.

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