Tag Archives: Baker Bloch^*+++@

up 02

Petunia had the answer. At least a temporary one. “You’ve brought the house up, good,” he purred in his mysterious, cat-like voice. “Now you must bring the *rest* up of importance. The house, the church, the *tree*,” he emphasized.

—–

“There,” he declared, moves seemingly over. “Doesn’t that feel *better*?”

Turns out the house, the church, but especially that tree, were attracting the wee ones, Ruby Fantasie the Jamacian witch, and who knows what else. Red balls fell from the sky as I was taking ground shots today. Now, yes, it felt better. We asked him the next step.

“You wait.”

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up 01

“At the very least, Herbert Gold, I had to move your house. I believe it’s jinxed!”

“The *house* — *my* house; *OUR* house — is not jinxed. It — just doesn’t have a proper home yet.”

“I’ve successfully set it up back in Snowlands now,” I replied to the disappointed, tired, aging man sitting across from me, his tea finished like mine. We were in the house, true. In Rosehaven still, yes. But way up in the sky now. More to be seen *here*, but not down below.

Then I had a realization. We need to talk to Petunia, I suggested.

“Ring him up.”

Petunia came right over.

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Flock and Feather

“*You* again,” Jane the barmaid spoke across the counter, not seeming very pleased to see Magus Ellen once more in her place of business. “Where’s, um, your sidekick this time?”

“Sidechick? He couldn’t make it.”

“Are you going to ask about that castle again?” added Jane rapidly, not wishing to talk any more than needed to this — *intruder*.

“Nah, all that’s done.” He waves his hand in gesture.

“Because all that investigation last year got you *banned* from the property.”

“I know.”

“And *your* Princess is not *our* Princess. I’ve found out some things in the meantime. Who is this Merry Gouldbusk? Why is her skin colored gold and not normal? Who are King Tully and that Queen of his? Not *our* rulers (once more). Never have been and never will.”

Nothing more seemed to be said. Magus Ellen rose from the stool. The castle was gone, or at least changed — morphed. This was not Murdochh’s Castle in resonance with the Loch Ness castle any more. *That’s* when it changed, he realized. A moment in time. He thought from this video that *Murdock’s* castle in the realm of Rosehaven was open to the public. Apparently it was all a misunderstanding.

That’s an important key. Misunderstandings can be smoothed over. He donned his hat.

“I will speak to the Princess before leaving,” Magus Ellen then called back while walking away.

“Make sure it’s the *right* one!” she insisted with bile. The door slammed behind him.

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penultimate (again)

“I’m afraid I may have to leave, Hucka D. This Rosehaven is not my Rosehaven. My Princess is not their Princess.”

“How ’bout this. You call *your* Rosehaven Rose*heaven* instead. Or Rose Haven — two words instead of one.”

“Maybe.” Baker Bloch, in character as a uniformed Ellen now, perhaps ready to revisit the… he can’t remember the name of the pub Magus Ellen and Sidechick Corea visited last year trying to dig up information about Murdochh’s castle. He tells Hucka Doobie this.

“I’ll go check,” she says, then teleports out.

—-

Hucka Doobie teleports in. “The Flock and Feather,” she informs.

“Probably doesn’t matter anyway… but thanks.” Baker Bloch stares out in the distance. If only The Mist would roll in right now and make all this better.

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house, church, tree

“So what do you think, Herbert?”

“It’s all I ever dreamed of, Baker Bloch. The house is perfect. Thank you so much (!).”

“You’re very welcome. I, um, assume April Mae will be following you soon.”

Herbert Gold hangs his head down, then up again, giving away his doubts. “I would assume.” If she ever gets over the Breeze lapse! he adds to himself. Maybe she will. It’s only virtual reality, after all. Nothing’s real. Is it?

“And this, my friend,” Baker waves his arms around, “is St. Merry’s Church. I’ve toned it down from Collagesity a bit. But you still have Merry.”

“Yes, I see.”

“And then you still have the clown over there. One and the same.”

“Sacrifices?” queried Herbert, knowing the history of the church in Collagesity.

“You bet! Bring your body apron if you sit on the first several rows.”

“Fantastic. I love it. I love it all. ”

“Let’s hope the Princess doesn’t have any complaints.”

“Why would she?” exclaims Herbert, not doubting his words. “Like you said before, the *tree* covers all; makes up for all mistakes.”

“Live Oak, right.”

“Fantastic.”


Live Oak.

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night hike

I stared over at what I assumed was the rising sun, stunning; pink.

I looked back from whence I had just trekked and spotted the fire tree, high on a summit.

This place was special. I didn’t know if I would be coming back….

Walking through the ruined village gave me chills. What does this mean?

This reminded me of something. An Omega place. Omegatown. I wish the sun would hurry up and rise properly to guide me home!

The wee person’s house, probably (belonging to) Norris himself. And now they’re also with me!

I can see my home now…

… but how to get down from here?

And where did the f-ing sun go?? Must have been the moon.

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point 02

I sat there, on my point, watching the odd glow in the distance. Blocks of glow, actually. She approached from behind.

“So you see it too,” she said to end the vision, as if her very voice dispelled it. I looked around. Ruby Fantasie (!).

“Ho-how?”

“Cool tree,” she spoke amidst my studdering, looking over at the live oak. “*Baker Bloch*.”

Of course I invited her inside for tea and cake. She said she just wanted coffee. *Hot* coffee. Ruby Fantasie! And she always declared she would never stay here during the winter. “Circumstances change,” she spoke in a “normal” voice to me, completely absent of the usual, thick Jamaican accent. This is how she instantly knew who I was: Baker Bloch. The user was the only one she lost the accent with, we learned back in photo-novel 12.

“Where do you live here?” I queried politely. Don’t say here, don’t say here! I thought.

“Ebonshire,” she answered, making me wipe sweat off my brow inwardly.

“Oh, that’s nice.”

She moved her coffee away from her mouth, gauging me. “You thought I was going to say here — didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” I quipped back reflexively and defensively. Why did I say “maybe.” I should have said “no.” But somehow I couldn’t lie to her. We were tight that way. User and usee.

She looked around. “It’s okay. I know you have enough problems now with the wee ones.”

So she knows about *them* as well, I speculated, envisioning an axial alliance between Jamacian witch and gremlin-ish wees, like Norris. The handshake: big black on small white.

“What wee ones?” I decided to lie better but was instantly seen through. I suddenly felt stupid… and alone. Ruby Fantasie had vanished before my eyes. I knew she wouldn’t return until I wised up.

(to be continued)

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point

I was putting up birdhouses today on my new property, too lazy to even change out of my Purple (and) Bear costume. Maybe that *was* my identity here, though. *I* am the Purple (and) Bear. Perhaps I own both this place (Sanctuary Point, after the sim plus the location description) and the old quarry. Or maybe the old quarry is where I come from. In the past. Where the mist got me. Maybe mist with a “y”; maybe capitalized but maybe not. Maybe the mist doesn’t like you capitalizing it in writing. Maybe it exacts its toll even a bit more if you do so. I must be careful. But yet — what could be wronger than the curse I’m presently under! A purple bear! Banished from my circle of friends. Confined to an old quarry and, now, a neighboring peninsular point far far away from a societal center. It’s out here away from the capital that Rosehaven’s *myst*eries are fully revealed; uncloaked. I must be vigilant for more changes.

“Hello!”

The piping voice, sounding of helium, was far far away yet somehow quite near. I looked around — no one here.

“Hell-o, hell-oooo!”

I then spotted him in the giant live oak tree, the centerpiece of the property actually. Beside the birdhouse I had just set up on one of its massive, sprawling limbs.

“Hel-loo!”

It took him a short while to start forming actual sentences and just stop chirping greetings (maybe the creature was part bird?) but I eventually got out that he thought the house he sat beside was too small for his needs. Or the rest of his clan. The wee ones.

The next time he showed up he brought along architectural drawings. Turns out this was his land as well as mine, or so he claimed.

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Rosehavien! Rosehavenite?

“It had to be done, Hucka Doobie. To keep the league of Axis away.”

“Or keep them closer to your vest,” responded the bee-person, perhaps my bestest friend inworld now that Baker Blinker is away so much. “It’s a beautiful spot. Right next to the old quarry. Of course this was all planned out.”

“Of course.”

“Now you can monitor what the Purple and the Bear do in their secret lair. Not that you’re *spying* or anything.”

“Of course not (!)”

“Are you?”

“No, because it will be me in that secret lair and me alone.”

Hucka Doobie looked across at me (in character) and then toward the hideout.

“Good deal,” she ended.

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meeting

He was playing a white piano in Black Dragon, waiting for Axis. Well he was *pecking* at the thing, since Baker Bloch is quite the non-musician. “I can’t even play John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ on this,” Baker lamented aloud, non-talented hands finally lifted from the keyboards. “Better get over to Spunky’s”.

—–

“Have we met before?” Baker Bloch asks after sitting down with Axis at Spunky’s. The wine had just arrived. Merlot for both.

“Sure we have, Baker Bloch. You played the piano for me.”

Baker Bloch stared at him, knowing he was confusing him with someone else. But he was too embarrased to talk about his lack of musical abilities right now, especially after the white piano fiasco. He *dreams* he can play the piano quite well. Why not in reality? he’s asked himself more than once. Not even “Imagine”.

“Y-you must be confusing me with someone else,” he offered after a pause. *Pitch* can play the piano. Has Axis met Pitch?

“As you wish,” the black clad man with the red crossed chess returned, allowing the matter to drop. In his reality, black moves first in chest. Baker has indeed met Axis (novel 15; toward the end) but doesn’t recall. What he *did* note here is that their voices are strangely synchronized — same tone, same mannerisms. He also doesn’t recall that Axis is already married in that reality. To Teebestia, the open heart woman from, let’s see, novel 5 I believe. Yes, the one set almost exclusively in Olde Lapara Towne, also mentioned recently in this here blog, um, this here photo-novel (16).

“Well anyway, congrats on the marriage old chap!” Baker raises his glass, and Axis reciprocates. They don’t clink because that could end the dream. “Good that we’ve met and discussed things. I’ve grown quite fond of Wheeler down through the years now. We had a rocky start, being competitors for the ownership of Collagesity originally, but now we’ve learned to share. Part for me, see, and part for her. And, I suppose, now part for you as her partner. Will you be living in Collagesity? Maybe at the Julia House? My friend Karoz Blogger will not be returning it doesn’t seem. He was slated to live there.”

“That could happen,” Axis matched Baker, almost at mate. Black opening first makes all the difference. He can add the “N” at the end to finish.

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