Tag Archives: Purple (and) Bear^*

the return of Purple (and) Bear

“One of us is going to kill the other one, you know.”

“I know. (pause) I hope it’s you.” Communication bleeps from the opposite side of the room. They both stare over.

“The Oracle says it’s time for me to ride your back over to the island, Mr. Purple.”

He puts away the knife. For now. “Hop on.”

—–

“Faster. Faster!”

—–

By the time he reached the island, Purple (and) Bear had become one again. He stares over at his old house. The one stolen from him by Rules of Rose.

(to be continued?)

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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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quarry

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Serenity

Parasol had much to study.

Fire tree, old quarry, Purple Bear. There was still time to switch from red to blue but the hourglass was about to turn over.

The dance was over for Purple (and) Bear. The robot stopped playing.

And… *begin*.

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deeper

Aunt (Golden) Josephine goes to the cemetery to pay her respects and receives a surprise.

“Aah. Tully you old rascal. Dug up again.” Josephine shakes her metallic head, making it slightly rattle. Something gold was loose within. “They should have never allowed that passage in the memoirs mentioning wanting to be buried with the ring, tsk tsk tsk.”

“Good thing I dug you up *first*.” She slips it on, stares forward across the bay. “Now who would take the whole *body* this time. Full cavity search?”

She can see it in her mind’s eye now.

A bear? she thinks. Purple? Aah, must be Purple Wolverine changing shapes again, she realizes with higher insight once more. Hiding out at the old quarry ’til things simmer down, huh?  Well… *two* can play that game.

She removes the ring before more ill will is done to her soul. She knows enough for today.

Time to report this grave robbery to the authorities. Ironic that Purple Wolverine use to be the local authority. Before the mist got him.

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