“You have to let her go, doc. She h’ain’t human. Heck, she’s hardly animal at all. Green blood instead of red, two hearts instead of one. It *doesn’t* take two to, you know,” and here John Frank Baum Ritter, husband of formerly heard from Texarkana Ritter, thumps his chest bigly for Dr. Paul Mouse. “One’s perfectly fine for all the pumping and such.”
Dr. Mouse thinks back here to his estranged wife, out in the beige hills even above Collagesity a bit. Only a shack for her now, but the one eye sees fine. He was looking for her the other day when he spotted the smoking, crashed saucer with the red and green lights in a small hollow to the west, perhaps in Baddest. And then Ruby laying beside it in a tall heap. 8 foot? he was trying to guess the height even from a distance. He gets closer, the bug green growing more metallic with each step. A bug, he though. A bug will fall her. Even then he knew, because he was also an alien of sorts, also psychic to a significant degree. Thus the rather frequent sightings of his mouse pal Pansy, the famous rodent who was never famous and instead replaced by another. The Pooping Pigeon was suppose to be his revenge. Now he will get his own through Ruby. He *will* discover a cure.
(to be continued)
She’d *been* here before, this Sugar O’Cotton, a sultry singer during the 1919 Kentucky Prohibition period. But the setlist has changed, the *colors* had changed. Strawberry wine/ blueberry tart. Red light, green light. Traffic light: stop, go. Did we need this addition?
Monday, this venue will be packed to the brim with screaming fans. But she will not be she. Someone different.
Ruby Alien wakes up, or switches sides (realities), first to second. The inferior one comes into focus. Again the good-bad doctor with the prodding, the poking and rubbing. “Come back to me,” he says. “Don’t die, don’t die!”
She looked toward the northern mountains from her home not away from home, her *real* home, in the dreamscape, or what we would call the dreamscape, as close a name as we have for it perhaps. This angel from above, this demon from below. *Both*. She was here to make a difference. “*There*,” she exclaimed to herself, pointing. A craft in the V shaped gap. Her original mother and father, or perhaps a prominent relative, like Uncle Stu or Aunt Zafflemorph. Always the red-green-red message. She was not alone.
She had no book still, red or any other color, so the only thing she had to read was her palm. Heart line equals head line. Good fortune ahead, and a lifetime of happiness. Bah, hand! The wrong hand obviously, just like she had a wrong foot, a wrong heel. The right heel was the one. The right hand was the one. She’d have to reverse the picture to make it fit.
Yet she was still physically in her bed in the small doctor’s office not 400 meters from the center of Collagesity, this newly moved in Dr. Paul Mouse, formerly of the Hope Clinic over in Black Diamond Lake. She had the power to be in two places at once, since the dreaming realm was also real to her. Powers this new incarnation of our old friend Ruby had!
And now the show was about to begin. Big star arriving soon. It was her! She was a singer in a band of unknown design before and of no design now. She was on her own, yet she was not alone. Fans! More than ever before. She felt her right heel beginning to itch again. Time to switch over to the other reality; someone was prodding her slender Grey body, the color of insect green just like the stage before her. And she was about to go on! Oh well, there was always the return times.
Dr. Paul Mouse was asking her to wake up while softly shaking the top of her long arm with his hand. He knew she was on the other side, and he had to be gentle. Thus the operation; thus the establishment of this clinic in the backwoods of the south, far enough off the highway not to even count. The bonafide doctors here had to pass efficacy tests in order to test themselves, sometimes the aliens but not a lot, since the flow had died down due to the epidemic, which may be a bonafide pandemic since it had spread to the outer isles.
She wakes up to the other reality, the second one to her because it is not so good. The first will remain there; the stage is set. She has her setlist, with the top being Plastic… Plastic… she can’t recall. She stares deep into the doctor’s eyes, wishing she had the second part of the name. Something about a bug.
(to be continued)
She listened as they talked about her outside.
“Found her up in the hills,” Dr. Paul Mouse spoke in his now kindly voice, changed from before. Another operation, this one performed by a colleague, not that he was opposed to working on himself. He’d done it before, Las Vegas style. “Can’t say where, exactly. Might be a crashed alien spaceship involved, might not,” he cryptically added. Texarkana Ritter was mesmerized. She saw a prize winning surgeon before her and knew he would do the right thing. Turn the alien in! It was the unwritten law of these here parts. You turn the aliens in, you subjugate them to tests, and then, when you’re done, you turn them loose up in Upper Austra into the wilds where they and their kind belong. Let them run over some distant, kind-of-alien village of its on up there. The up, the north, the wilds. Lower Austra hated Upper Austra in general. Where did it all begin? Roads, most likely. Lower Austra had them, two of ’em in fact. Upper had none and that started the whole wild aspect, she supposed. Limited transportation, limited communication. And now *those* aliens had the real deal kind; our infestation becomes their infestation. She was saying some of this stuff aloud to Dr. Mouse as well, which young Ruby, still without clothes gosh darn it, overheard of course. Her sharp ears pricked up as she sat up. She better get use to being up, since she’s heading that way. After the tests. They might have brought her to the good doctor anyway of course, although he was new to this dealing of the civilized south, the down, the lower. All aliens go to the doctors for checking and inspecting and making sure they don’t have any tracking devices or internal, hidden babies or whatnot and then: let ’em go up north. They don’t usually make it back. The border patrol makes sure of that with their guns specially loaded with alien poppers, as they called them. That was a concoction they learned from the midlings, the ones between the human and alien avatars and had knowledge of both and could swing both ways. Well, the ones that swung toward the human side told them of the alien side secrets, the weakness, the vulnerabilities. Achilles heels. Right as advertised. The old myths and legends were based on truth, just *extraterrestrial* as it turned out.
Ruby reached down with her long arm and scratched her right heel anxiously. She could feel there were bad days ahead.
(to be continued?)
Lavender, Poetry, (a) Sprite.
“My latest creation, Golden Jim. The Rubi Gardens. 2 parcels in 1. I have almost encircled…”
“No you haven’t,” countered Golden Jim, wiser than the girl fairy for now. “You will never encircle these enchanted woods, except…”
“*Except,*” spoke the *now* wiser child. She was wiser than Golden Jim almost all the time except, in this post, for that little lapse back there. Except.
“Except what, child?” Golden Jim stared at her, at the woods behind her. *Their* woods. They become one through it.
“Although you are almost an anagram between your owner and your creator, I cannot quite see you eye to eye on this Diagonal. You are not my ultimate answer. The answer as to whether we, the Baker Bloch family, should move back to the Heterocera continent.”
The horse let out a long, loud neigh (“Neeeiigghhhh!”). She had her answer.
But The Diagonal, now more commonly known as the Head Diagonal to differentiate it from the Heart one, still had power. Ruby had more to find tonight. She’d already met Merlin on The Diagonal yesterday, who, upon seeing the small red fairy just appear out of nowhere on his (girlfriend’s) couch, yelped an “OMG” at her. She didn’t stick around long enough to respond. She never does. The Woods are her natural home, and the only place where she trusts the creatures and avatars of Our Second Lyfe. She trusts Unch. She trusts Golden Jim and Sid and Indigo and Ragdoll. She *didn’t* trust Martha Lamb and thus got rid of her. She trusts the other versions of herself, the Ruby’s that have been buying property around the woods for many years now. They snatched up the chance to buy the old Collagesity land formerly nestled against these woods. Small Ruby Fairy had never met the town’s (primary) owner, Baker Bloch, in person. Maybe it’s time to change that. But first… another visit to “Merlin’s (Girlfriend’s) House”. Just across the small forest from the horse barn here.
Good. She hasn’t been banned from the parcel.
She stares over at the picture of the 2 cats that seems so familiar…
She reads Merlin’s (girlfriend’s) sketch diary and learns so much more. Heart *is* much different from the Head. This was an exercise in mental acrobatics.
She sat all over the Witch’s Rock sim, taking in the views as she could, imprinting them in her memory. Soon another came to her, as she knew she would.
“Nice day,” the other spouted in a lilting voice, fluttering her dainty, glinty fairy wings a bit in the waxing light.
“”Tis,” Ruby answered her other self simply, knowing it was The End. For now.
“I suppose we’ll have to take the girl home.” And then it was over. Ruby Fantasie had vanished from her perch. Ruby Fairy had taken over (again), who also possessed a wee version of herself. It was in this guise she first approached Yoko Ona a little later on down at the beach.
“‘Tis (a) nice day,” smaller Ruby Fairy said to her while she stared out at the *actual* Witch’s Rock over the gathering waves, pondering if this is a place where she could hide out until the storm was over. Because Mid-Hazel would be furious for a loooong time.
Yoko Ona turned and faced Ruby square on, knowing deep down this had to be another witch from another coven. But which? She knew the answer to that could ultimately make or break her escape. She decided she better get it over with — better now than later.
“Yes. A nice day indeed. It would be even nicer with a Mountainy Dew in hand,” she returned to the sprite. “Peppi is *right* out.” She gauged the features which didn’t display immediate allegiance with the Diamond. Here was a fairy that could be an Ordinary Glass Coke gal instead. She lucked out!
(to be continued?)
While she was traveling about, Yoko Ona decided to revisit her old home of Witch’s Rock, if only for the memories. The original group of witches had long been killed off by rival covens (like Mid-Hazel’s), but the objects remain. Let’s take a look.
Ruby Fantasie waited on a nearby hill, mulling over possibilities for her next transformation.