Category Archives: Rubi

February 10, 2016 · 8:48 am

Money

“Thank you for meeting with me Baker Blinker. Are you sure you don’t want a beer?”

“Yes, thanks, but I have one. It’s just hidden inside my leg right now. Silly animations.”

“Silly world!” Karoz said. He was right. It was just a flash in the pan virtual reality in the long run, she thought. Then why is their relationship turning out to be so difficult and twisty-turny? Maybe it was longer lasting that either one of them could imagine presently. World *and* relationship.

“Really love the school, Karoz,” she said. “Thanks for the tour. You’re doing a wonderful job.” She thought about asking when it would open but didn’t want to put any pressure on him.

“Thank you. And thanks for the generous donation. It seems you are doing quite well for yourself lately.” In his mind he reviewed his recent meeting with Dr. Mulholland. She could have something to do with this money. She must have.

“I’m doing okay,” Baker Blinker offered. She thought back to opening the shiny black purse the doctor carried in with her from the woods. All that dough: thousands and thousands of Linden dollars. $L5000 to be precise. “Karoz needs,” the note at the bottom of the purse plainly stated. Signed: Old Kent. And the doctor knew nothing about it. She didn’t know anything about anything. She claimed to have amnesia. Baker Blinker was starting to doubt it.

“But you know Baker Bloch is always willing to give us more lindens if we need it,” Karoz continued. “Within reason, of course. Can’t go off buying ocean liners or whole sims, mind you.”

This made Baker Blinker chuckle. But they were beating about the bushes again. Typical. “I suppose you want to know about her,” she ventured.

—–

Fifteen minutes later, both had more information to chew on. They traded stories about recent gifts from Old Kent. “We went to the spot in the woods she said the tree fell down on her, knocking her unconscious.” explained Baker Blinker at one point. “It was right at coordinates 168, 168. At sunset.” She eyed Karoz knowingly. “Then it must be Unch who did it,” shot back Karoz. “Unch, yes.” Baker replied. But both of them were thinking something further, something more twisty-turny: Maybe this *is* Unch.

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Tagged as Baker Blinker^^++@, Karoz Blogger^*++@

February 9, 2016 · 9:27 am

Meanwhile…

… Dr. Mulholland was searching for a way out, while a strangely transformed Cardboard Derek Jones looks on. “Where *is* that darn keyhole?” she asked while examining the large blue cube lodged in the ground beside Collagesity’s Middle Pool.

She disabled camera constraints. “Ah, there you are… in Blenhorn. Should’ve known.”

She spoke over top of the cube now. “Soon we’ll be gone from this place of dreams my sweet. So so soon.”

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February 9, 2016 · 8:57 am

Norum College

In happier news for Karoz, his new school of learning keeps developing. He’s decided to call it Norum College, housed in the old Norum Gallery building formerly featuring the work of collagist Julie Sadler. Karoz wants to hang at least one of her collages in the college but hasn’t chosen which yet. The Norum Gallery sign has been retained for the school.

Applicants for the college are suppose to show up in person on the bottom floor, where Space Ghost and Cardboard Derek Jones help them sign up. Karoz is still preparing promotional pamplets, along with the application packet itself. But this is roughly how it will look when the room is finished.

The second floor is devoted to the vast subject of science, perhaps focusing on the experimental side, such as Tesla inventions and theories.

On the third floor so far, we find these 3 easels. It’s obvious that Karoz wanted to hold at least painting classes here but he was running out of prims after the splurge on science from the floor below. We’ll have to see how it balances out. Baker Bloch is hoping that the college will place more emphasis on art in the end. It is *Collage*sity, after all.

Baker may live on the top floor in serving as custodian for the school. As of this writing, he’s won out over Karl for the position. But what will become of Karl now?

The most ambitious project slated for the college has to be this rocket ship Karoz is designing in the tower section of the House of Truth. He plans to take it all the way to Second Life’s lone moon, and after that… well, better save some surprises for later(!).

After giving Baker Bloch a tour, they sit in Karoz’s apartment and look out on southern Minoa and Sikkima while sipping Absinthe from a bottle, a surprise gift from Old Kent (shark). Oh, but it comes with a sort of price tag: “Don’t change,” the accompanying note simply read. He doesn’t plan to; no worries there.

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February 8, 2016 · 9:15 am

Mossy

He teleported in a little way into the woods. He approached the house and then spotted the rocking woman. Too late to retreat back or teleport away in case he had been seen in turn. He strolled out of the woods and onto the porch. He did not know the woman. She didn’t stop rocking to greet him.

“Is… Baker Blinker home miss?” he asked, peering down at her from near the door. He could not stand in front of her because he would sink through the floor — right on the sim line.

“No need to be so formal Karoz,” she spoke in a somewhat derisive tone. “We are kindred spirits of sorts.”

“Who are you?”

She finally looked up at him. “I’m Mulholland. Dr. Mulholland. Not to be confused with Mulholland Dr. because that would be the reverse.”

“I don’t understand. Is Baker home or not?”

She didn’t answer him directly. “You had your chance Karoz Blogger. You criticized her eyes, and then when she tried to get you both to change in tandem you held back. Look at you.” She scanned him top to bottom. “A moss being, the texture of standard Linden default grass. Do you really think that’s so attractive?”

“I am what I am,” Karoz defended himself. “My father was a moss being and my true mother was an alien, perhaps of a praying mantis variety. We cannot change who we are.”

“Can’t we?”

“If Baker Blinker is not home I’ll take my leave.” He was getting angry and frustrated.

‘No. she’s here,” answered Dr. Mulholland, or the person claiming to be so. She called inside: “Baker?!” An old friend here to see you.” Karoz peered through the window on the porch offering a view of the couch inside, and a bit of the bedroom. “Baker?!”

They both waited. No one came to the door.

“Looks like she doesn’t want company right now. Maybe you should ring her up in a week or two. Maybe you can even be friends down the road. Or drive.”

He left without saying goodbye. Next stop was the Hole in the Wall bar just around the corner, where he could drowned his sorrows, and where reborn Rhoda was still trying to remove her own blood stains from the counter.

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February 7, 2016 · 10:44 am

Ch-ch-ch 02

Baker Blinker wakes up. “That was a strange dream.”

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February 7, 2016 · 10:19 am

Blood Dr.

“You watched a collage film by baker b. called “Blood Dr.” John Lockfry 01. What did you think of it?”

“Confusing,” he said. “Bizarre. I don’t understand any of it, really.”

“Well, you obviously remember Jacobi’s cabin within,” continued Carrcassonnee. “You crossed the ash line to enter, with Benji back then. How is Benji anyway?”

“I don’t know,” replied John Lockfry 01.

“I have a picture of Benji here, actually,” the great olive being then said. “Perhaps you will recognize it. Let me put it against that far wall, above Baker Blinker’s bed she sometimes uses while staying in my Collagesity. Oh, it appears she is still sleeping there… didn’t see her, ha ha.”

John Lockfry 01 pivots to view the picture above a still drowsing ~~Baker Blinker~~ Karl. His curiosity piqued, he gets up. “Is it okay if I take a closer look?”

“Maybe we should rouse Baker Blinker first. Baker Blinker?” Carrcassonnee pauses. “Baker?” She paused again. “Well, I hate to wake her up from such a sound sleep, so go ahead and approach the picture. Just do it quietly.”

John Lockfry 01 gets up and moves toward the picture, stopping just in front of the bed. He stands there for a moment…

…and then returns to his seat in front of Carrcassonnee. He speaks to John Lockfry 02. “That’s the picture in the cabin. You remember, don’t you?”

“We don’t exactly have the same memories, Past Lockfry.” he responds. “I remember entering the cabin with a dog and seeing a picture of a human on the wall. It is backwards for me. I stand outside the magic circle now, looking in wistfully.”

“But that’s the dog Benji,” reinforces John Lockfry 01. “From the movie.”

“Yes, that’s how I entered the cabin. With Benji.” John Lockfry 02 stares at John Lockfry 01, wondering if he understands the ramifications of what he’s saying.

Carrcassonnee attempts to explain. “John Lockfry 01, we’re in a collage film right now, as I speak. Collagesity is a perpetual collage. It doesn’t stop at the movie theater up in Collagesity Heights any longer. It is here with us. It is now. It is. But we better talk about Crabwoo. That’s in [Blood Dr.] as well. Let me put the image in your mind this time.

John Lockfry 01 lurches back. “Whoa… yeah, I remember that. What the heck?”

“Crabwoo,” Carrcassonnee repeats.

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February 7, 2016 · 9:39 am

Gloomy Gus

“So you see, Past Lockfry. This has to be the equivalent of Jacobi’s Cabin in Collagesity. It is protected by a magic circle, a disused railroad in this case…”

“… and a circle of ash in the past,” completed John Lockfry 01. He was starting to catch on.

“Then there’s the rocking chair powered on its own, without anyone we can perceive sitting there.”

“Jacobi, again.”

“Yes. I cannot cross the magic circle, which tells you, if you’re perceptive, what I have become in the future. Can you guess?”

John Lockfry 01 didn’t know.

“You will see,” came the reply. “I will leave you on your own to examine the cabin, er, house. Meet me at Carrcassonnee’s at 0900 tomorrow morning. Don’t be late. Good luck.”

John Lockfry 02 disappears from John Lockfry 01’s side. John Lockfry 01 approaches the circular railroad. He’s left the magic circle, but can he return the same way?

In his case: yes.

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February 7, 2016 · 8:40 am

Wheelchair

“So Mr. John Lockfry. Tell me about this island you are from?”

“Well, Jack my large blue friend, it’s the most beautiful place you’ll ever see or visit. Lush vegetation. Climate that’s always comfortable. Rain, but such that refreshes. And the most important thing of all: it’s alive.”

“Sounds like where I’m from, actually,” responds Jack in his lower register voice. “The moon Pandora orbiting a gas giant in the Alpha Centauri system. Well, actually I was originally from Earth like you, and only inhabited this body as an avatar or distant soul. But then the central Tree of Souls allowed me to enter it permanently as almost all other Earthlings and their avatars left our moon.”

John examines his knife again. “Hmph. Taking it all in, it does sound like we have a lot in common. But what about this wheelchair?” He pointed toward it with his knife. “It’s parked here in front of us. We both feel… uncomfortable with it being there.”

“Very true.” replied Jack. “It is a joined past. I was wheelchair bound before permanently entering the strong Na’vi body you see before you. You were a wheelchair bound mortal before coming to your special island and having your own crippled body healed.”

John Lockfry had an insight. “Maybe, deep down, the island and the moon are the same.”

“That is correct, comrade,” said a well dressed man appearing at the door. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am John Lockfry Two and I am from the future.”

“John Lockfry too??” both exclaimed.

“Yes.”

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February 6, 2016 · 8:47 am

Bitch

“Oh, I got woes floaty man. Yes I do.”

“You gonna order anything today, Karl?” asks Rhoda impatiently, his little stick arms protruding from below his oval, blue-green body per usual. He is a true flattie or cutout in both Real Life and Second Life — rather unusual. “‘Cause I got a business to run,” he continues in his slightly nasal voice. “A new business. Old Kent is looking over us all the time from… heaven, yeah. You gotta order something. You can’t just freeload in here. Load’s not free.”

“Rhoda, I’ve already drunk three frigg’n beers and positioned them on the counter over there,” responds Karl in his typical gruff manner and nodding in the appropriate direction.

“N-no you didn’t. They were there.”

“No, I distinctly remember the golden goodness of 3 Krings beers sliding down my throat and into Tummyville. And I paid you.”

“Oh, okay,” Rhoda says matter of factly. Then: “That’ll be 3 dollars.”

“Nah, I ain’t doing that.” Karl waves him off, and then looks over at the picture on the wall to his right. “So what’s with you and that Old Kentucky or Old Kent or whatever — *shark* anyway? It’s like you’re his bitch or something.”

“He looks down on me and tells me things to do and to order,” came the reply. “Listen, there’s something I have to tell you Karl.” He leans in closer. “We’re[ all] dead.”

At this point Karl got the sudden urge to pull out a gun and point it directly at Rhoda’s head. Or his body which is the same as his head. He’s psychically tapping into the violence that regularly occurred at Rhoda’s former bar. It wouldn’t be the last time.

“I don’t understand. I don’t get that,” he said instead.

“Aren’t you going to point that gun at me?” Rhoda was truly perplexed.

“How did you know I wanted to point a gun at you? Is this some kind of strange time loop?”

Karl blinked, and then Rhoda was laying dead on the counter, riddled in gunshot wounds.

“Holy shit what just happened!?”

But he’s okay.