Tag Archives: Hucka Doobie^^+++@%%

October 28, 2019 · 8:06 am

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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October 25, 2019 · 5:30 am

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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October 24, 2019 · 8:30 am

enjoy the little things

“To be clear, Hucka Doobie, the paint brush sign for this Little Art House contains no green. Red, blue, and yellow, to be true. But green is gray or colorless, just like in…”

“… The Red Umbrella?” guesses Hucka Doobie correctly. “61 rr crossing 49; I suppose you’re right. But who… you go.”

“But who will play Lu Ellen? Someone, obviously, with a red hat or cap. Doesn’t have to be *that* cap; (simple) red will do.”

“She’ll have to be human as well,” adds Hucka Doobie still standing below the green-less sign. “What I mean is that at least outwardly she’ll appear as wholly human. It’s only the difference between here (Hucka Doobie grabs her breast) and here (Hucka Doobie grabs lower) that matters now. Then *this* happens.”

“You know who it has to be,” states Baker Bloch, looking over at his old friend the bee-person.

“Well. She *is* still living here. With her brother/lover. Might as well put her to work. Make her grean again.”

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October 21, 2019 · 9:38 am

cheap at 1/2 the price

“Very funny, Baker Bloch,” responded Hucka Doobie after teleporting in.

“Thought you might like it.”

“What is this?” Hucka Doobie peered inside. “A psychiatrist’s office?”

—–

“So let’s get down to brass tacks. Tell me about this compulsion to not wear clothes any more.”

“Well,” began Blue Berry Girl in earnest. “It started with the death of little demon Melvin at my hands. He was the one who was suppose to supply me with clothes (but didn’t follow orders).”

“Hmm. Any way to bring him back to life?” queried Dr. Baumbeer, sipping on milk as usual. “I mean…”

“… since *I* was brought back to life?”

She stared at him with wide, mysterious eyes. “Well, ahem, let’s, er, dive into all that, then. Do you retain any memories of Cloe from that game your user was playing?”

“Not — sure.”

“Tell you what. Meditate on that aspect of this problem using the tv static we discussed before while I study my notes. Let’s get back together in, say (he checks his watch), 15 minutes?”

—–

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October 15, 2019 · 6:22 am

flagged 02

A boy of 13 rotated back to 10 and around and around. Trapped, although on sunnier days he can glimpse 18.

—–

To come back here to live? Permanently? Never to leave again? That could be an answer.

—–

“I’m not 10, I’m 13. Legal age to work where I come from.”

Baker Bloch looks down at the filled in paperwork. “I see: Bennington. Rough place. Describe your childhood.”

George knew he didn’t have a childhood. Only 10 to 13 to 10 and back and back and back. Except for the glimpses. “Oh, you know, the usual.”

“Gangs?” queries the male Baker.

“Couple,” spoke George honestly. “Bands we call them.”

Baker sensed the interview was over. “We have one more applicant. We’ll be making a decision very soon. Thanks for your time in coming in.” Baker was thinking: we were really looking for a different kind of shapeshifter but this could be handy too. He rechecked George’s phone number before releasing him back into the world.

—–

“Describe your shapeshifting abilities.” Baker knew this was a crucial point.

“Wellll… I have a dog one, if that’s what you’re interested in. Could be handy for, I don’t know, entering collages.”

—–

I think we have our man,” Baker spoke to Hucka Doobie later. “And he’s a girl.”

—–

“And this is your bedroom…”

“Schweet.”

“I can’t fit in there because I’m too tall. Enjoy!”

—–

“Now to find where Cloe went in this stupid game, hmph.”

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October 13, 2019 · 10:13 am

Gast(i)on

It was almost a perfect sim, what with its trash and gutter filth. Very realistic; a perfect place to meet… someone.  And the Oracle predicted its importance: Hidden Vilage (etc.). But she must return and merge with the other Hucka Doobie, the one that didn’t get this far. She knew that.

But she still had some time before the exit.

—–

The Rhino represents a direct link between here and NWES, our new focus. Rhino in each. And the *same* one (same object from same owner).

George’s Abbey Road VW remains just down the street. An indication of what’s going on (Portal; multiple).

—–

If only Jacob I. was still around, she thought while laying outside the *original* Joint Joint in the “Black Side” of the village, another thing shared with NWES (and right beside the duplicate Rhino over there — more emphasis).

—–

Ah ha. Tin Machine.

—–

Uncle Zach still shooting up and not listening to local phenom Firesign Theatre. But we’ve seen him more recently: Pipersville; (owner of a) *Gas* Station (Gastion). Should’ve known.

And that was Firesign Theatre on the turn table up there. Not Tin Machine. My mistake. Platinum (not tin). That place must be Domino’s still. Hitgal is probably around, then. Best friend Sangria too.

This side of town retains power.


Diving in again…

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October 12, 2019 · 9:09 am

(BELL SOUND)

“What do you think, Hucka Doobie? It’s the Red Umbrella in NWES.”

“I see.” Hucka shuffles her feet. “I thought we were, er, done with this town. Splitsville and all.”

“Well… decided to give it one more try. The rent was so cheap. Thus (he indicates with his hands), voila.”

“Should we go inside, then?”

“Sure, we can do that Hucka Doobie. It’s all the art in the Red Umbrella in 7 Stones, though. You know all the works.”

“Have I interpreted them yet?” Hucka Doobie truly couldn’t remember.

“I — think so. Most of them anyhow.”

“Hmm. Let’s go inside anyway.”

“*Actually*, I wanted to show you something in particular. Jar your memory a bit, perhaps.”

“Alright.”

—–

“Before I forget, Baker Bloch, I wanted to tell you that ‘Humanvillians’ has returned to Fal Mouth Moon (in 7 Stones). Herbert Gold and April Mae Flowers’ story must be resolved; Uncle Joe and Aunt Zoe entrapped in a 2-dimensional realm once more.”

“Cool, Hucka Doobie. Good to know. I wonder if (we should allow) Danny to come back to the Fal Mouth Moon as janitor/receptionist, then?”

“Oh no,” replies the bee being firmly. “Tronesisia *specifically* said: that couldn’t happen. Besides, he’s pretty happy in his Metal castle in Dewey. Herbert Gold and April Mae are still there too. The Irish Village over in the Fi sim didn’t work as an alternative for them. Rent too high.” Hucka Doobie looks up at the Red Umbrella and its trademark sign. “Unlike here, it seems.”

“Very cheap,” Baker Bloch reinforces. “Especially for an urban area. I even bought the building online, thinking I could just move this whole new version of the Red Umbrella over to 7 Stones to replace the one there. Didn’t work out. Not yet.”

“Hmmm, sir, I say to that.”

“Hmmm,” Baker Bloch mimicked back, thinking Hucka Doobie knows something that he doesn’t know (once again). He stares into her dilated pupils. “We better get inside. The night progresses…”

“Sure. Thank you for the AO, by the way.” states an upright Hucka. They walk forward in their different ways.

—–

“Here, Hucka Doobie. The very first piece (of the gallery). See the jigsaw pieces?” The male Baker points.

“I see. You’re say that…”

“… I’m saying that this is NWES, the city itself. N equals North and green…”

“Blue,” Hucka Doobie corrects quickly.”

“Blue, right. Then *W* equals West: green; E equals East, which is red; and then, lastly, S: South: yellow.”

“Tile, then.”

“Right. The city *has* a center. Just needs to be found still.”

“I doubt it, Baker Bloch,” opines Hucka Doobie, shaking her bee head. She then rubs her neck.

“Neck still bothering you, Hucka?” asks Baker Bloch, truly concerned about his friend’s health.

“Nah, I’m okay. As long as I don’t walk on cement or pavement much, or hard ground,” she adds. “Just leaves. Soft, cushiony leaves.”

“Well… don’t let your *head* break off from your body.” Baker Bloch immediately regretted the attempt at a joke. Hucka Doobie looked over with those eyes.


ART=center?

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October 6, 2019 · 6:50 am

alchemical

It’s a strange place for certain. And big! It *could* work — that’s why he’s here. Especially given that he’s just found his long sought for All Orange. I started to write “seemingly”, but, no, he’s found it. The Rose but also The Thorn.

“I’ll *make* it work,” he says aloud to no one in particular. “I have motivation now. But where to next?”

There was a simple answer. Home. Just in the back there.

I must do something with the place, he ruminates when entering. Especially since he has a bonafide assistant now. Joy!

—–

“Soooo. Herbert Dune — that’s his name?”

“Yes,” answers Baker Bloch to Hucka Doobie. They’re back!

“He’s in one part of Apple’s Orchard. And his girlfriend — *assistant* — is in another part, more to the north. South and north.”

“That’s our limits (!) For the present.”

—–

Meanwhile, in the Faux Rhino Club across this sim, Breeze, reverted to plain ol’ Merry Gouldbusk for the afternoon at least, had just heard out Herbert Gold’s profession of love for her. Two in two days! she thought to herself. When a woman is in demand, she’s in demand! “H-how did you find me?” she asked innocently. She knew the larger answer to that. Destined couples have a way of getting together, no matter how the surface odds are stacked against them. But she has Herbert Dune now. Confusion! Good confusion, though. She is wanted! And… another *Herbert*. What’s with that?

“It was your last letter to me,” he explained. “About half a year back. You mentioned NWES — New WES I think you called it at the time.”

“That’s right. I remember. I said I wanted a change, a new life. Ingo can run Rosehaven by himself now. It’s *his* kingdom, yes.”

“As opposed to your queendom.” He looked her over good. “Soooo…”

—-

“And he basically asked her flat out if she had decided on a sex for herself. He’d touched her in two places before; knew there was some mixed up boy-girl confusion going on up here… and down here.” Hucka Doobie was fondling the appropriate places on her body.

“I know what you’re talking about, Hucka Doobie. No need for the grabbing and such. Welll?”

“All of a sudden,” the bee-person continued, “she didn’t know again. It’s when she first laid eyes on Herbert, walking down the street beside her apartment on 108 Rib Lane.”

“Actually, I think it’s Serpent Avenue.”

“Whatever,” Hucka Doobie quickly followed. “But the skin came back, the *mask* came back. She was all glinty goldeny again, much to her dismay. She thought it was over and that she had found true home. Home with Herbert. But there was *another* Herbert to deal with.”

“Maybe *he* should just steal her golden skin. His last name is Gold, after all. And — what about April Mae? Is she left behind forever down at West End in, where was it, the Irish Village in that Fi sim?”

“Well… the 4th had to be reached. Rubedo. End of Work.”

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October 1, 2019 · 6:08 am

New WES

“It’s the first megaburg on the (Jeogeot) continent since WES, reportedly. And they’re trying to bring back at least *sections* of the old into the new. Red is there, for example. Red shirt; red head.”

“Merry Gouldbusk, then.”

“Um. Sure. But in this incarnation she likes to go by Breeze.”

“What incarnation? (pause) And what *sex* is she?”

“Answer me!”

“If you touch one place I am a man. If another: a woman. It is as yet undecided, then.”

“Thank you for answering me, er, Breeze.”

“You’re welcome.” *click*

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September 27, 2019 · 7:15 am

Jim K. 02

But then he changed his mind, Bellisaria’s Wheelhouse sim popping into his head again. Wheelhouse… Wheeler. Wheeler’s House, he realized. He heads to the Blue Feather instead. Roger Pine Ridge wasn’t home so no loss there anyway.

Inside the Blue Feather, in the Table Room on floor 2 still attached to the Perch Restaurant, just like in Collagesity, another secret meeting was taking place. Hucka Doobie was demonstrating the oddity of Polk County for Baker Bloch. Although Wheeler Wilson still technically owned the Blue Feather, she had always let members of the same named club have access to the 2nd floor. And the first and the third if they wish, but there was less reason to do so, or at least to *linger* there. The Blue Feather (Club) was designed to be an establishment of lemony persuasion, and the roundabout 1-3-2 way of traveling through it was part of this heritage. Its development is traced way back in novel 2, when Wheeler took over the reigns of Collagesity from one-eyed, giant chartreuse alien Carrcassonne in a coup. But now The Man About Time (Pierre) is pondering a return for the deposed former ruler. In some form — he hasn’t decided what or how yet. He’s currently set aside “Floydadada” to study up on how Jacob I. tried to take over the town back in novel 7. It may be handy to track down the similarly one-eyed deity who failed. Last seen in the Gaston estate sim as far as anyone’s best guess goes. But The Man About Time actually checked there earlier today: no luck. Maybe his pet or companion Broken Heart Jackie. Hmmm. Hmmm, again. Many wheels spinning in his head.

—–

“‘Goodnight Violet.’ Like I said goodnight to gallery exhibits in general after that time.”

“She liked me, you know. Violet I mean.”

“I can’t remember. I doubt it. But — you *were* still a man back in those days.”

“Nah,” countered the bee person. “I really wasn’t. I never was a man. You just *thought* I was. I’m not.”

“Well. Let’s head over to Fal Mouth Moon, then. See the related work.”

—–

“Jeepers, Hucka Doobie. It’s *gone*!”

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