Tag Archives: BAKER BLOCH^*~~~@

7 > 6

She kept perusing the Oracle while waiting. The blue of her dressed matched the blue of the distant sea. Alpha… Windy, she studied. Wait… stop. Protection, she determined. She is Windy. Or Wendy.

Baker was waiting outside. She had to make a decision about an outfit. Wendy wouldn’t do — that’s kind of the base one for her now in its two twinned forms, one to build upon, like the old Wheeler-Bowie costume. Blurmaid at the last island down, she recalled. Should be something to do with Queen and King, since Corton is involved. But she and Baker weren’t Queen and King. The marriage witnessed by Speck and Crazy over on Grandpa Cliffs turned out to be a sham, a lie even. It was all too British, with true bridesmaids Fern Stalin and Lichen Roosevelt nowhere to be found. She had been on her own and didn’t even stand a chance.

Look at the bastard out there, still in his wedding tux. The audacity! He probably thinks I’ll do it again, be tricked once more. But he doesn’t know me deep down. I don’t put up with such shite.

Sure hope Wheeler picks a better outfit than Blurmaid this time, he thinks while staring up and trying to spot her through one of the house’s many windows.

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club

“I’d like to propose to you all over again. Like in the old times.”

Wheeler looked him over good. “You’re not Baker Bloch any longer. Else…”

“… I wouldn’t be saying this, yeah. I ditched Baker back at Collagesity. Or maybe it was in the White Palace; yeah, the White Palace. I remember playing the piano which I can’t do. I was in the dark all of a sudden. Then I was alive again. White. Rock beats both Paper and Scissors surrounding it. I was in the present.”

“Here, then.” Wheeler stopped looking him over good. “Good. How do you plan to do it? With a rose?”

“Just stand over there and I’ll get down on my knees.

—–

“It had to happened,” said one witness to the other in a low voice. “Else… the alternative.”

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inside seeing

Future Schumann was trying to show me something.

—–

I returned to Collagesity, set on finishing that ditch traversing almost the entirety of the town. What do we have here?

And why am I Baker Bloch again? *The* Baker Bloch. Must be Wheeler, I assumed: the third wheel. Her “other”, or “others” I suppose. Marriage, pheh. How can she say she is married… to which one? Or better, which is which? They both came from novel 8, like a Crazy. Maybe Cpt. Crazy over at Half Hitch would know, or at least half know some kind of truth. And what about *his* significant other, that Speck or whatever, the First Mate or the Only Mate or Lone Mate. Mates indeed. Randolph the Bastard Pirate must be laughing in his sleep, chest still rising and heaving with every internal guffaw. The alchemy bird stays silent, forgetting its purpose as a watcher in de skies.

“But a twin *has* moved forward,” I can hear Wheeler inside my head. “We have chosen a hairstyle, a form. We are from Heaven now. You know the denizens of Hell; you’ve seen them very recently.”

You know we are trying to save you and we chose just in the nick of time.”

I shook off the daydream and stared down the length of The Ditch. Ditch City they may call this place in the future, if they have no imagination.

(to be continued)

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00250317

At the top of the long series of stairs I began to hear the music, celestial in nature. I knew it was Baker Bloch, but also that this would be impossible. *I* am Baker Bloch. Yet there he was, bathed in golden light at the other end of the nave or whatever this is. I could barely make out the figure in the distance, but — I knew.

I decided to ditch the cinematic frame hud for better shots, blog taking precedent over film. This also made me think of the ditch I needed to complete down in Collagesity. Soon I will return to my own realm.


I moved forward… took a while still.

Turned out Baker Bloch was so far away that he was in a completely different sim, sitting at his piano and playing what appeared to be a Schumann piece. Should’ve known. Music of the Gods. “Sonata No. 2” I believe.

The lights grew dimmer as I crossed the edge of the sim: threshold. I was alone again, just the music and me.

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00250316

I suddenly found myself in Hucka Doobie’s White Palace in De Skies, as if I was summoned. The palace place looked pretty big; I decided I better avail myself of one of those touring huds in that big snowflake-like object over there — but it just turned out to be a cinematic frame, as if the whole thing were a film or something. Crazy ol’ Hucka Doobie. Always wanted to visit his or her White Palace and here I am. On film.

I was definitely not alone.

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beside the canal

You’re not who I was expecting… *Wheeler*.”

“It’s because you tried out that different state on Elsa the other day. She didn’t want to come. She asked me to substitute for her. How did you like *my* kiss?”

Jeffrey Phillips wasn’t impressed and says so. Way too 18th Century, way too mellow. Besides, this was Wheeler for Christ’s sake. This wasn’t one of *his* girls. This was an equal (!). “Anyway, you kissed me, not the opposite way ’round.”

I was just experimenting. Just like you, tee hee. Do you, do you know what they’re calling you back in Marwood, you stud? Bruce Springsteen,” she answers herself, because you have your E Street band (of ladies) there, and also you are a Rock. Do you remember playing the game of Rock, Paper, Scissors with the Barrys? You won.”

“Well, Paper and Scissors, I mean, Barry (X. Vampire) and Barry (DeBoy) are still around,” Jeffrey Phillips tries to defend himself, thinking of the 2 faced God Janus looking both forwards and backwards in time. “Sandy Beech as well… I’m not Sandy.”

“No,” countered Wheeler, Hidi for the moment. “You are all of those and more. You are the…”

“… last man standing,” he completed for Wheeler, knowing it was true or at least largely so. Besides Man About Time — and perhaps he doesn’t even count since he’s so unfocused — where are the others? “Baker Bloch has gone to the White Palace in Heaven to join Hucka Doobie,” he explains for the both of ’em. “Baker Blinker is gone as well — you’ve *absorbed* her.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Karoz too.”

“Karoz is still around,” says Wheeler, knowing it was both false and true at once.

Jeffrey Phillips blew out air. “I guess… we just needed to talk.” He looked over at her: Janus faced as well. She changed. Windy, as in City. Big Windy even, bigger than ever. Where was this going? Was he ready… or did he need to wait? And where the heck was Norm Bob, Jimbo/O’Jimbo, Bimbo/O’Bimbo, and Drunk Dude? Why just the E girls now over in Marwood? Bruce Springsteen, pheh.

“I am not with you,” he decides to say, thinking of the queen-prime minister type relationship again that they had, his saving grace.

“I know.” She breathes out as well. “I have others.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0315, Nautilus^^, Upper Austra^

Astronaut AB

Baker Bloch was not totally gone. He came back to help me with the Okinu glyphs. He was there after all, although he said it seemed a lifetime ago. “Pre-Hucka Doobie,” he offered while sitting across from me in the Table Room of the Blue Feather building, my home now in the heart of rebuilt Collagesity. “Explain Uniko,” I requested after hearing him talk about things not really relevant to the current plot for a while. That’s okay — he’s a lot more disconnected to the blog these days, so: understandable. I then listened with rapt attention.

15 minutes later I had most of the story. Okinu had been made over since the glyph days, with no glyphs found now. Maybe this was part of a cover-up, he speculated. He also theorized that the energy which created the glyphs in the first place was still present, and that led to the discussion of the archipelago shaped like the number 2. (Stands for) Our Second Lyfe obviously, but there was more.

—–

The new, remade over Okinu sim had a default landing spot now on an island which lies partly in its northwest corner, the largest in said archipelago. In olden days, the sim was only water with no land atall. Certainly this upshoot was a mysterious island (Mystery Island, but part of the Misery Islands?), and one which contained yet another golden machine. I couldn’t help but make an instant connection. Here was Icarus, the rocket ship that would take me to not Mars, but someplace else. Somewhere inferior.

(to be continued)

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equals?

“Well it certainly sounds like a dangerous place. I’m not sure I want to move there now, despite the advantages.”

“I mean, look at your wine. It’s still gray,” Jeffrie Phillips pointed out. “Sooo laggy.” He looks around, as if he can see the whole, huge city from his vantage point. NWES City, which once, not very long ago, almost decided to become a town and let its several suburbs handle all the city problems. Not any longer. But… what if.

Charlene takes a sip of gray wine, which tastes perfectly fine despite the color. She looks again: red now. But it took a while. And it also took a while, albeit a shorter time, for her shirt to rezz in. She thinks of, for example, omelettes. It would probably take half the time to cook them in Collagesity if she decides to move there. But what is the night life? As Jeffrie Phillips is describing it to her: none. Except for crime — maybe the criminals are just *bored*. She says this aloud to Phillips.

“We think it was just one person committing the actual homicides if that helps, one April Mae Flowers, a widow. She has a history of crime in the town — notice I use town there, not village, but not city.” He was trying to paint a contrast between Collagesity and NWES City for Charlene to help lure her back.

“How big again?” she queries about the size of the town.

“8192, with room to grow. Approximately 500 prims worth of room. That’s a lot of omelettes.”

Charlene was wondering how Jeffrie Phillips knew she was thinking about omelettes earlier but then dismissed the mind reading possibility. But was he? She knew they were separate cores, so no symbiosis there for psychic sharing. He was, at the core, Baker Bloch. She: Wheeler Wilson. Baker Blinker, Karoz Blogger, Hucka Doobie, and most of the others seemed to have faded away in the distance. It was only us two left, she thought. She says this out loud to Jeffrie Phillips.

“Then we should be king and queen of Collagesity. I know you are Fern Stalin in the future.”

“In the *past*,” Charlene the Punk counters about the time relativity.

“See there? We’re a great balance. You look at something one way, I another. We are Janus headed, looking in both the past and future directions. Can’t you see?” He manifests a glass of gray wine in his own hand and adjusts his position appropriately. “Fate.” He takes a sip, the sip of victory. He reaches the wine glass out to clink with her own. Dare she?

She could have asked about veracity advantaged Bad Kitten/Zado, she could have asked about Elsie at the kissing booth and nimble Darlene down at the bay and “Hot Shot” Cloris over in the Rat Village bar and grill. Had she known about them.

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golden one

“It could have happened in King Post at Wendy’s new place, although that would be quite a long way off. Or maybe King’s Stone, since the name location is closer. Or (its neighbor) Druid’s Post I suppose. Hucka?”

Cackling from the witches. Baker had forgotten Hucka Doobie went to the White Palace in the skies about, I don’t know, over a single photo-novel’s length ago by now I would guess without checking. “Come with us, Baker B.,” they beckoned. “Come with us to our photo shoot. Kita!” He didn’t have much choice. That would set him back several more hours in his search for the origin of the explosion, but, as a bonus, they indicated the precise location when finished. Not Kita: Kitaro. So close to the Urban Ice Cream Parlor — just missed. Elvis Kannelvis’ coordinates were just a little off. He did better with sports in school than maths. Plus he had indicated the wrong McMillan: there were several in the area as it turned out, although all unrelated to each other. Just like the Urbans. A strange place.

Speaking of which…

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00240607

“I was younger back then, still a rocker, still a moder. Cleveland had nothing on me.”

“Drew ‘Grumpy’ Cleveland?” Baker Bloch questioned, still shocked at the revelation. He hardly had breath to ask.

“Yes,” Stefan [last name still to be determined] admitted, thinking back to the lake, the peninsula. So calming after the pansies. He knew who he was… for the very first time. Then a Brendan appeared on a nearby peak and it began in earnest. He understood that this was not a bucolic paradise, and that paradise was a long way off indeed, like his sister knew before him. Brother too.

“Soooo…” Baker caught his breath again. “That’s when you began (inhale) to know… about Pansy…”

“Mouse,” Stefan completed for Baker Bloch. He held all the cards now, was playing with a full set of dice. Die — Certain Death. Red equals white. Alice in Wonderland would be proud. He let the word hang in the air again, like a kite cut loose from its tether, adrift in a sea of nothingness.

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