Tag Archives: Hucka Doobie^^@

gynoid

“So what do you think, Hucka Doobie?”

“I think you need to move your hands down a bit,” she joked, making Baker Bloch derez the silly thing he’s uselessly holding.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he replied while smiling. He also changed into his base avatar. Illegitimate son of the famous Space Ghost and, well, we only know his mother as Old Grey in the blog.

“Yes.” Hucka Doobie gets serious, looks at Baker’s new collage more closely. “This is about gynoids. Do you know what a gynoid is?”

“No,” Baker Bloch admitted. “Is it some sort of fruit or seed?”

“It’s a female robot, usually a pleasure bot.”

“Oh.” Baker Bloch turned and looked at the collage as well, at the glossy, red cheeked Anon mask looming in the sky. “Is that…?”

“Yes,” Hucka Doobie answered, knowing what the male Baker was referring to. “This is you (!)”

“But also…”

“Yes,” Hucka Doobie replied quickly again. “This is Wheeler.”

“But…”

“You and Wheeler are married.”

“Um, nah that’s not correct Hucka. *Axis* and Wheeler are married.”

Hucka Doobie ignored this from Baker Bloch; began to study other parts of the collage. “What is Real, then?”

“Reality.” He waves his arms. “All around us.”

“*This*,” Hucka Doobie declared firmly, “is *not* reality.”

“It is to us,” Baker attempts to defend. Hucka Doobie wasn’t persuaded.

—–

“What about the other parts of the collage?” I continued. “The centipede I believe. Puerto Rico. Obviously this is about Rael. Lamb’s Rael.”

“What is Real?” Hucka Doobie repeated, and left it at that.

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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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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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besties

Baker Bloch was working alone tonight. The marriage of Wheeler was throwing him off his game, he felt. How could this be? He was trying to figure out how to organize all the Gaston posts into a separate page, a separate site even. He must be careful. Randolph with an additional name of Cross of all things. 2 doors down from Axis. 2 doors down from…

The door to the almost finished coffee shop in the central part of NWES opened. “Thought you might need some company tonight.” Hucka Doobie, Baker thought, rather disappointed that he couldn’t hide from the other core avatars completely. Ever. They were a family bound together in this virtual space and time, perhaps beyond. “Hi Hucka,” he offered as graciously as manageable. “Have a seat. Have some coffee. On the house.”

—–

I’ll sit in here and read until Hucka Doobie finishes her pie.

—–

“What is that thumping noise, Baker Bloch?” queries his bee-friend after the bathroom break, after the pie. Maybe his best friend now that Baker Blinker spends so much time in Chilbo, away from *Collagesity* (Collagesity! Yea!).

“Must be coming from the apartments directly above us. The Foxxy I believe it’s called — yes, checking remotely: The Foxxy. The primary owner and creator of the town was working on those at the same time I was working here, directly below. He contacted me via im about another matter — rental one — and I told him I was directly below him at the moment, which he didn’t know.”

“You have to be careful about contacting the outside. Outside our family of avatars, I mean.”

“I know. You’re right of course. But this is the *guy* who also created the duplicate Faux Rhino over in Gaston. I so so wanted to talk to him about it — why the duplication, so forth. It was so tempting.”

“Just that,” Hucka Doobie reinforced in her warning. “Another temptation.” She looks over at the shrine again, just outside the cafe at the terminus of a small, dead end hallway. Baker notices and starts to explain a bit more.

“Lu Ellen Hutchison is becoming a town hero, at least in certain parts. The place, NWES, is split down the middle, just like a certain US of A our joint user lives in up in the so called Real World. Real Life.”

“I know,” opines Hucka Doobie. “So cliche.”

Baker blows out some air, then continues. “Anti-gay, anti-immigrants, anti-whatever. Negative forces, Hucka Doobie. Save the unborn fetuses who are less than 3 months old but kill off all the old people in the world. It’s backwards. It’s *madness*.”

“Yes,” agrees Hucka Doobie, then glances at the shrine again. “Madness.”

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blue red yellow DEAD

“So here it is all mapped out, Hucka. The murder. *The* Murder. The ‘crime scene’: here. This building. Upstairs I mean. Not downstairs — *here* here. Up there here.”

“The ‘murdered’ is Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, yes,” speaks Hucka Doobie, trying to speed things along. Much to analyze and absorb tonight.

“Then next is the ‘motive’,” continues Baker Bloch in a line. “Peepee, the person –er, creature murdered in the first place. The start of a chain reaction.”

“Cool.” Hucka Doobie moves to the next line down. “Then the ‘#1 suspected’ — the murderer of *Rabbid*, is, um, Lu Ellen? Did I get that name right?”

“Lu Ellen Hutchinson, yes. Or maybe Hutchison without the (first) ‘n’. I’ll have to check.”

“But Lu Ellen (for the first name),” Hucka Doobie attempts to firmly establish.

“Yes.”

“Moving on, then, is ‘clue # 1’, which is provided by synchronicity investigator Alice L. Farrowheart. We also know now that this person sometimes goes by Lilly.”

“No, I never said that,” defends Baker Bloch. You must be confused, yes, with Alice Frame. Another Alice F. — perhaps interesting.”

“Okay, I’ll trust you with that,” offers up Hucka Doobie. “But this is from the Red Umbrella, specifically a Sam Parr collage from the Red Umbrella. Specifically specifically Sam Parr 04. This is a marriage. Who is getting married? Well…”

“Wheeler. Wheeler is getting married.” Baker Bloch is referring to information shared with Hucka Doobie earlier as they drank coffee at Spunky’s in Southside. Surprising news!

“The married woman — Wheeler or not — is then throwing a frog toward a green man who is removing his own head in ‘clue # 2’. This is the next collage in Sam Parr — Sam Parr 05, part 1 of a diptych.”

“Part 1 of 2, yes,” elaborates Baker Bloch (unnecessarily).

“So in summary — for now — the just married gal throws a frog at a man and turns him green and removes his head. This is her father Peepee, murdered by Bullfrog. But it is *also*…”

“Bullfrog,” completes Baker Bloch. I don’t think it can get any clearer than that.

“Nope. I agree. The rabbit is obviously the frog.”

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i.c. planets 02

“In this diptych, Richard Pryor, rescued by Superman from rock, i.e., ignorance or *wildness*, is a prior, as in a more primitive, past life version. I say this as a strong, black woman in the present, mind you.”

“Of course.”

“Shake’s straw is colored oppositely and bends the opposite way as Superman’s powerful, rescuing arm. He is a Master, but not in a good way. Like in the past. Like in the South.”

“I see.”

“*Now*, Baker Bloch. What has this to do with *Neptune*, the unseen, the unspoken even? West is east. Yellow eyes…”

“Hucka Doobie,” admitted Baker Bloch. “My heart’s really not into this tonight. Can we go somewhere else and talk? I feel like all these collages are closing in on me tonight. There’s too much there.”

“Too much information, eh? Okay. We can simplify. Where do you want to go?”

—–

“The alleyway behind the travel agency,” Hucka Doobie answers herself.

“Karoz ain’t coming back Hucka,” started Baker Bloch again, sad this evening. About Karoz. About Baker Blinker along with him. The anima to his animus, after all. Virtually speaking.

“Well — then let him stay in Chilbo. You can still have 7 Stones.”

“*I* can’t have both.”

“Then, let’s say, create a duplicate. A duplicate temple to mirror his own.”

“That’s already been done.”

“Oh.”

“Wheeler owns the land. She could swap her (2048 parcel) in 7 Stones for this (1780 in Chilbo).”

“Maybe you should talk to her about this as well.” Hucka Doobie looks around at the alley. Seedy. “And what of NWES? That is a second, big factor now in simply staying on Jeogeot; not returning to Nautilus fully. I’ll go with whatever you decide. I’ll stay with you whatever.”

“Thank you, Hucka. Nice to know.”

—-

The next day, they returned to the collage. “Flying Superman rescuing the Pryor — prior — then, is not the Master but the Liberator, in his true, white fashion. He recognizes the inversion in color: Aquaman, seen to his north. An understanding is made of both the sky *and* the seas. This is Neptune. This is the ability to see.”

“Icy planets.”

“I *see* planets, yes. First Uranus, if you look just right. Then Neptune if you look just right with a telescope. It all telescopes out.”

“Ending with Pluto.”

“Not any more.”

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paint it

“There is some hope here in the upper part of Black Dragon.”

“Black Drake,” she corrected.

“Right. But, see? More black than green here, black equaling rented or ‘in use’.”

“Especially around Black Drake Square,” she offered, taking a better gander.

“Black Dragon,” I corrected in turn.

“Sure. So. You’re saying this is one of those neighborhoods that could work for further stories.”

“Well, we have Rock Ramby and partner Vain and Artery Boy in the neighborhood already. He goes by Gill Alex now, in honor of his red and blue splitness.”

“I get that,” she responded. “No one else will, but I get it.”

“Like the RR (in Wazob).”

“Got it.”

“And then, let’s see, there’s the Red Umbrella of course, then Spunky’s, a local, popular eating and drinking joint.”

“Popular, local drinking and eating establishment,” she agrees.

“Then another gallery across the way from the Red Umbrella. And then, as we speak, there’s a dude over there who’s rented the place next door to it. And then, as soon as I rented the building for *our* gallery, someone almost immediately rented the building next door. See, Hucka Doobie? It’s infectious. Everything happens in clusters.”

“Like a gumball machine. The black is clustering together amongst the green. In Black.”

“And *then*, there’s Apple’s Orchard.”

“Applewood, yes.”


A new Black Dragon record store with gunn(s).

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