Category Archives: Mountain Lake

November 10, 2019 · 8:20 am

pretty Improvio

“Anyway, I thought I’d just pop over and tell you that your old house is up for rent. Better get back to the brood.”

“Wait, Gambler,” Greg Ogden implored. “Before you go, tell me more about this Core-Alena, how she got to Gaston, how she passed through Purdy here on the way.”

“I already told you,” Gambler projected. “She passed through centers and then she just uprooted herself and started walking from the original ‘Purd’ — this Purd*en*.”

“As opposed to Purdy here and also the Purdue University related sim. I get that. But why couldn’t she start walking, say, *here*?”

“You know that too,” came the reply. “Purden is actually the secret centre of Our Second Lyfe itself. Triple 128 — only one.”

“The…” Greg Ogden attempted, then let Gambler take over again, seeing the stumble.

“All the axes measure the same: height, depth, length. A, B, C: the great 3-n-1. But in Core-Alena’s case it is also the center of a 256x256x256 sim cube. It’s what makes her, well, *unique* unique.” Gambler was referring to the all important tree being as a she because that’s how she knew him-her in Gaston.

“But she’s not at this centre any longer,” continues Greg Ogden, chattier thanks to the (doped) coffee. He suddenly realizes this, and holds his mug out in offering mode. “Sure you won’t have any?” He was hoping to get the whole story today, whatever means. *Whatever* I mean here. Gambler was an old girlfriend over in Gaston for Greg Ogden, having met her shortly after changing from machine to man (but still keeping a lot of machine characteristics, like an obsession with symmetry). She came here to tell him about his old, empty house, yes, but there was more to it. He could feel this. Something about Purdy. He was a purdy man, true. He knew this — all the ladies end up, in the end, telling him so. Gaston changed him forever in this way. Sister Improvio too. Earie as well. He became Greg Ogden, Improvio became Pretty Man — wait. That’s *it*. Gambler, all along, was…

He could see through her disguise now. “Boy this coffee is good,” he declares, taking another draw from the toxic concoction.

—–

“We’re both purdy,” she ended. “Too similar to each other in our red and blue. We had to create Earie in the middle. Ear. Between the sun yellow legs.” She stared up at the brightest star in the sky, not looking away. The only star. The daylight one. All turned black.

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November 8, 2019 · 6:56 am

trying to be “good”

Core-Alena had had enough. “This will *not* do,” she-he exclaimed, almost up to his-her gills in snow re-terraformed from “default” by the owners of the new house over there. Yes, more avatars have moved into Purden, further distancing the sim from the pristine forest it once was. Core-Alena decides he-she simply must become Mobile again.

Before changing over, she-he tests out the other “purd” sims.

Purdue University Calumet: not bad; a small forest of relative compatriots. He-she listens in on their chatty banter. The tree next to her-him complains of crowding. Time to move on, although he-she can revisit here.

Then Purdy was kind of interesting but not enough to linger. At least today. I want to be purdy, Core-Alena thinks after teleporting in. And so she-he will have that option… in a more human way, that is.

So that’s all the “purd” sims. His-her vertical travels have ended. Time for horizontal. Time to step out of the ground and into the air again.

First things first, she-he thinks upon changing over into the gun totting form he-she had last year. Kill the people in this house for causing her-him so much trouble.

Lucky for them they weren’t home. Core-Alena then moved on and forgot about his-her initial, cold blooded plan. She-he had bigger fish to kill fry. Purden Castle.

He-she ditched her-his weaponized self again halfway up the steep mountain. “More traction this way,” he-she purred, at one with the small engine.

The lust for killing went away with the transformation. Why am I here in the first place? she-he wondered neutrally at the top, just over the line in Cloudmont now. Dragon?

Inspired by the castle, he-she changed again. To a he. Apparently “purdy” will have to wait.

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September 26, 2019 · 6:04 am

new

“12:37, dear. Time to go.”

—–

The Arkansas meeting, the restored Wheeler thinks just down from the Table Room with her one blue eye and one brown eye. It’s finally here. She wanted to cuss “Bellisaria” but held her tongue.

—–

“Wheeler,” The Man About Time explained….

… then shifted to the next “wheel” sim of Our Second Lyfe, the second of three.

“Wheelhouse,” he then pronounced. “Complete opposite side of continent, northern edge instead of what’s now the southern edge, at least currently. We must act fast!”

“Or else… what?” Baker Bloch queried. “The wheel is, er, *broken*?” No one had said hello to Wheeler. She’d arrived late and missed the similarly paired displays of sims Humansville and Edgar (on opposite sides of a Bellisarian “island”, with Edgar denoting Uncle Joe as TMAT explained), Decker and Deckard (only 2 “deck” sims currently in Our Second Lyfe, directly n. and s. of each other and with Decker next to Wheeler), and Squished Starfish and Squishy Squid (2 of 4 “squish” sims, and again directly n. and s. of each other, with the latter positioned just beneath Humansville this time; more reinforcement).

Baker Bloch unglued his monochromatic eyes from the picture and turned to the newcomer of the group. “Wheeler, you getting all this? Wheel… Wheeler. That means you are involved. *Directly*.”

“Yes,” The Man About Time sitting opposite him quickly followed.

“We have enough evidence already to determine that,” Baker added.

Wheeler decided to insert a joke here. “Game, erm, *over* then?”

Our Second Lyfe winked out.

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March 23, 2019 · 8:13 am

hair today…

“Black, white, blue, red, gray. You cannot get rid of me that easily, Baker Bloch. Nor Opp.”

“I know. The alchemy.”

“Yes. I am powerful still. Most powerful. Occident must work with Orient. There is no other way now. Physicality wanes, but mentally we can remain strong, even up to the end. And mental ultimately rules physical. *Creates* physical.”

“What about emotional?” Baker Bloch spoke from his own bench beside the cyan fountain. The Fountain of Morgan Mountain. Or Julia Mountain. Half and half.

“We’ll see about that,” Wheeler answers.

—–

Hucka Doobie was studying collages in Collagesity again and catching up in general. “The Hand of Opp,” she gasps while standing in front of Stonethrow 08.

She examines the corner it makes with 09.

Could I walk into this collage? Hucka ponders while looking at the inviting road. All the way back to Stonethwaite? The road flickers again.

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March 18, 2019 · 7:44 am

SIDney

“What is this place, Baker B.?”

“Morgan. Morgan, and, over there at the bell, Julia.”

“Hmm,” offered Hucka Doobie the bee person. “Let’s meet at your place instead.”

—–

“Yes, I can feel it.” Hucka Doobie checks his inworld map for the general lay of the new diagonal, this “Heart Line” Diagonal. “Where was the spinning train?”

Baker Bloch checks as well. “Umm, Velox. Two sims up from us. We’re in Sabulella. Between Velox and Sabulella is Vashti. Beyond Velox is Webworm, Polia, Ufeus…”

“I get the picture,” interrupted the bee person. “I was called in because you finally, *finally*, got in over your head.”

“Well…” Baker Bloch started to protest.

“But you did,” Hucka Doobie completed matter-of-factly. She tried to turn toward the interior of the Tao Lodge they sat just outside of but found she couldn’t pivot her head. “Let’s get up,” she rather commanded. “Let’s go look at the painting that prompted you to give me a call. *Finally.*”

—–

“Here’s another Dali painting I missed before.”

“I don’t think that’s a Dali,” proffered Hucka Doobie, walking up. “Let’s go see the real Dali.”

—–

“Just around the corner here, Hucka Doobie. Tigertail, Stinger, Chick all in one.”

“Hold on, Baker B. I’m seeing something else in this one.”

—–

“A map. A map that freaked you out, grid lines running all over the place. What has this dude been up to? you asked yourself upon reading his profile. Chick, Tigertail, Stinger…”

“Yes.”

“But the chick is the elephant, and not the chick on the ground. Gala. Dali’s muse of course.”

“The chick is the elephant,” Baker Bloch reaffirmed.

—–

“A nice fire. A laughing monk. What next, Baker B.?”

“I think you know what’s next.”

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

—–

“It really was all my fault, Martha my dear. I was overthinking the situation.”

“Think nothing of it. The Diagonal was being misused and you stepped in, just as you should.”

“But this one is different.”

“Yes.”

“Soooo…”

—–

“Who’s going to tell the children, Sid?”

“We’ll do it… together.”

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March 16, 2019 · 9:41 am

Orient.

“Well, that was interesting (*burp*). Any more editions of this magazine, Librarian Bean?”

—–

“We call her Gassy.”

“You mean Grassy,” the male Baker responded to the female Baker, who just rode into town. Collagesitytown.

“No. Gassy is different. Tillie I think her actual name is. *That’s* the one I want to play. That’s the one I want to start with. If Karl isn’t available.”

“Lemme check.” Baker Bloch opens the Big Book of Avatars in front of him. “I have perhaps as much as 50 percent assigned to myself.”

“Of course.”

“And Wheeler has another big chunk. Perhaps 25 percent.”

“Yep.”

He keeps flipping. “That leaves 25 percent to divide up with the rest of the, let’s see, 8 remaining core avatars.”

Baker Blinker counts them off on her 10 fingers. “You, me, Hucka, Karoz, Tropp, Wheeler — or Treelor I suppose, Grassy — *not* Gassy again (smile), then Spongeberg the Destroyer, then Roger Pine Ridge, then, let’s see, Lockfry. How many is that?”

“Counting them in my head now (pause): that’s it (!)” He gently shuts the dusty tome, looks out at the Rubi Woods, then back. “Well, just think about it. I’m so happy you and Karoz have found a way to work yourselves back into the ever evolving Collagesity storylines.” He looks her over; notes the differences from before. “Partial assimilation, eh?”

Baker Blinker nods. “It is. We may yet be able to return Collagesity to its glorious past — defeat Wheeler at her own game.”

“Wrestling?”

“Maybe even tennis.”

“Polo.”

“Marco.”

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March 12, 2019 · 6:19 am

AlmaNoz

“I will come back,” spoke Karoz at the Table again. “But we must start to focus on TILE once more. Occident. I am a high TILE priest after all. And: bite it Wheeler.”

But Wheeler Wilson was still holding and using the cell phone. “I can’t seem to get a hold of Hucka Doobie, Karoz. Could she be… dead?”

“Doubtful. She’s in Gaston. Right?”

“Yes,” Baker Bloch answers for Wheeler.

Wheeler finally gives up on reaching Hucka Doobie for the night; puts away the phone. She crosses her legs and leans toward the blue-green being. “Okay, Karoz. Tell us all about TILE, then.”

—–

Later:

“I’d pretty much say it’s exactly your color,” bee person Hucka Doobie declared to her old friend Karoz at this Treasure Hill representing the heart of the Orient, its apex. Its climax if you will. Hucka Doobie looked around again. “Both Morgan and Julia sides.”

“Then this must be about me. And also Baker Blinker,” spoke the wise cyan guy. “Okay, we’ll return. Obviously mum’s the word about our meeting here.”

Hucka Doobie made a zipping motion over her slightly pollen covered lips.

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March 9, 2019 · 10:06 am

Bald Seal Prelude

Baker Bloch next checked Hana Lei for survivors, but the members of the band Lamb — Peter, Paul and Mary — were nowhere to be found. Baker thought of the perhaps odd coincidence that the 3 locations beginnning with “H” in his overall lexicon were all clustered together if sorted by number of posts. 15 for Hana Lei here, 16 for Heartsdale, and then 14 for Horizons. But none of these places seemed relevant any longer — all used up for meaning. He couldn’t stop thinking about the 3 “H”‘s, though, and how it perhaps — again — points to the Omega continent (through Kentucky). Better get back to Bauerbridge, then…

… but the high dune had been masked by a thick thicket of trees. Big Thicket? Edward Swift once more?

April Mae’s small cemetery remains at the edge of the thicket, where her husband Septimius Felton was buried and which we see her visit several times in the last Collagesity novel (last?).

I’ll just do a little grave maintenance while I’m here.


The Angel of Death reached out for Baker Bloch’s hat again.

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March 8, 2019 · 4:48 pm

The Bald Seal

Without hat, Baker Bloch stood upon the sim line dividing Treasure Hill neatly in 2.

He thinks there may be 2 Treasure Hills which are actually one, but he needs to get Roger Pine Ridge over to Grassy Noll’s place asap to start the process of finding out…

END OF PART 1 OF 16 OF “BAKER’S DOZEN: AN ANALYSIS OF THE COLLAGESITY NOVELS”!

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March 8, 2019 · 8:40 am

Treasure Hill found (!)

“It wasn’t the one with the snowy peak,” continued Wheeler, still at the head of the Table. “It was another — split as well, though. And the 2 involved sims, just like the 2 involved sims below them in a north to south line, indicate what is going on. The Oracle is no longer stuck at (Goddess) Morgaine. We know that this is really Morgan, or that’s another name she goes by.”

“But who is Morgan?”

“Who do you think?”

“Silly question. I suppose.” Baker considered the next step. “We know that the Oracle is attempting to speak to us, me, directly in a more specific way now. We have crossed into another hemisphere, and that is precisely what it’s saying to us. The Omega continent is the Orient, all the other mainland continents to the far west are equivalent to the Occident. The two *needed* to be separate, and that is good and well.”

“Well,” Wheeler interjected.

“Apples over here, oranges over there.”

“Novel 12 — because I’m not going to call it “Collagesity 2018-2019 Winter” or whatever ridiculously convoluted name it actually has. No, this Collagesity Novel *12* is set about everywhere else *except* Mainland. Four “Others”, weaving in and out of each other with Rosehaven the more dominant. What is the tale told? Is it the final one of Our Second Lyfe? No, I’d like to talk about how we, the core avatars, share or parcel out the other avatars — like Mabel and Ruby.”

“Yours,” Baker Bloch indicates.

“Yes. Like Pitch Darkly is *yours*. Anyways, we must get back to the Oracle. You know another trick now. Look at Corsica.”

—–

“Orient and Occident should remain separate.”

“Absolutely,” Wheeler enforced. “That is my decree. For the next 3 years, for the next 30 years.”

“No pictures.”

“No pictures.”

—–

“You know what I mean about…”

“Yes.”

“This is acceptable.”

“Sure. So this is the Oracle, Wheeler.”

“Kind of. 1/2 and 1/2. It’s over there as well.” Wheeler points behind her, at the adjacent parcel with the big cyan bell. Counterpart to the big cyan crystal here, seemingly. Both atop the mountain.

“Split,” further explains Wheeler. “Like much of what makes up Our Second Life. Like you and I in ways. We are not a couple.”

“No,” Baker Bloch reinforced.

“You and Baker Blinker aren’t a couple.”

“Nope.”

“But Baker Blinker and Karoz are — were. Still are. In their make believe land of Chilbo. How are they doing over there? I haven’t heard from Karoz since Collagesity Novel 7.”

“When you were playing the role of Billy Jean Kidd, yes.” Baker pauses.

“We wrestled. We might have even played tennis if it were allowed. The Gods didn’t allow it. Karoz remains with Baker Blinker.”

“That’s good. They are a nice and decent couple.”

“I will never marry.”

Baker Bloch thought about this statement from Wheeler. “What about…”

“No. Let me list down through the months, nay years now: Baker Blinker, Karoz, Dr. Mulholland, John Lockfry, Allen Martin, Philip Strevor, Marion Harding, The Musician, Campbell Opine… Opp… Tropp… I may be missing a few.”

“That is all good and fine, Wheeler. We are not here to judge but to worship.”

“Yes, I *may* as well be married to you, Baker Bloch. A marriage of convenience. That way I get to dig into your vast inventory. All the old Moard Ling buildings you can’t get on the marketplace nor inworld any longer.”

“I can lend you those any time you wish.”

“Yes, but they wouldn’t be mine, to pull out and examine at my discretion. So it’s set. We will get married. For convenience.”

“No, Wheeler. You know I can’t…”

“I know. No ding dong.” Wheeler glanced over at the giant cyan bell. “I will make due with others.”

“No. No way.”

“Then you must choose, Baker Bloch. Are you Baker Bloch or… Pitch Darkly. Married to your Mary?”

“Maybe I *will* become Pitch. Maybe. If it’s either this or that.”

“It could be.”

—–

“I think Tropp might be the one, Wheeler. That’s why Magus Ellen and Sidechick Corea were so interested in guiding his development. He started out as a kid, a toy, and became a man. Beyond even a big boy.”

“Grassy Noll, then, may be the key after all. Put him in the new novel.”

“Already done,” replied Baker, thinking back to post 1.

“No, I mean give him a story. Probably back in Iris wouldn’t you think?”

“Do you wish to go back?”

“Roger,” spoke Wheeler knowingly.

Baker Bloch nodded. It sounded right.

Punishment.

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