Tag Archives: Ruby^^==

00310310

Baker suddenly finds himself behind plants again, bobblehead no more. Thank the Gods! But how?

He remembers the islet, the beach beyond, the so called friends of his work, of his life even. All becoming distant to him. Who’s left? Well, the core, Our Real Life and Our Second Lyfe. In real life I am Baker B., maker of (audiovisual) synchs and some other stuff. In virtual reality: this guy. He seems indestructible, ha.

*Ruby*, in Fantasie form, he recalls also standing across the water. Summoner of drawing Waldrop. Waldrip. Drup? Maybe all of them. Fe fi fo fum. Waldrop (whatever) lives in Fio Fum immediately below Spirit Witch. Another island, only a bit larger than the one he just, er, transferred from. He checks the elevation: 1000 even. He checks the coordinates: still in Moomit.

He moves around the plants and encounters this.

Was he dead? he had to ask himself. Only one way to find out. Proceed forward.

But it doesn’t look good.

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00310308

We start again not at Ruby’s left leaning wagon in Spirit Witch where Waldrop was summoned but instead at the nearby community of Bear occupying a tiny island in Moomit Bay directly below Monevole. Baker Bloch bares his head in deference to the great King of the island: Ted, of course. Ted Bear. You had to bare something, he gathered, to have an audience with him. The hat would do, Ted indicated to the newest visitor to his islet kingdom. Thank you, he added. He was glad of visitors and wished them 24/7. He was an extreme extrovert, thus his isolation in the bay as everyone around him tired of his constant visiting and hovering. We’ll come to you now, they all said around him, wishing him well on his new venture. He didn’t understand at first, cried a lot, but then came to accept his “imprisonment.” *Selective* extroversion, that’s the key, they said, still gathered around him on the shoreline but shortly to leave, back to their spouses and siblings to heave a big collective sigh of relief that Ted wouldn’t come a knocking on their door tonight or tomorrow night or hopefully ever again. Something is not right with you, they said, almost at the end. This is the only way. And then they were gone. Ted turned on the radio. Storm a brewing. More tears fell. The lighthouse blinked on and off at his bidding but there was no way to go inside. The toys down at the beach played on. His only companions now except for the occasional visitor, the ones who cared. Ted foresaw in the palm leaves the coming of a tall, white eyed stranger, a cowboy, no a spaceman. Half and half, although he wasn’t suppose to use that phrase in front of anyone else. Keep it to yourself, they also said that day they left him on that islet, never to return again to normal existence.

So he was not surprised at the appearance of me, Baker Bloch or Baker B., who fit the description of the prophecy. “You have to bare…” he said to me because it was part of his sentence on the islet. Like I said. “… something,” he completed, looking me over good, picking me apart even. I took off my hat. It seemed to do the trick, like I also said before.

Looking at my shiny dead dome, he decided I should go one or two or five steps further and turn into a bobblehead of myself. “This is so we don’t feel you are talking *down* to us,” he says in his bear voice, tamed from years playing with human children. He hasn’t eaten anybody since ’62. Not since he was an actual bear, himself shot in ’65 and stuffed into a toy. He was soo happy at first! A toy! he cried. I can do *anything*, play with anyone, *be* with anyone. Humans watch out! And they did. And so he was here.

So *I* did, and he promptly gave me what he declared was my own island as a reward… just right over here within close earshot; they could talk all the time, he said, trying not to show too much excitement. I had successfully become one of them, whatever that actually meant.

The wrong Ruby suddenly appeared on the beach across the water. I realized I had been trapped as well. I believe she may have been cackling but it could have been the sound of a sudden gush of cold wind blowing across my bare head atop my now diminutive body. Then the others appeared…

I was no extrovert but it was the same with me. They were irritated and they decided to isolate. I counted at least 7 people on the shoreline who I thought were true friends.

(to be continued)

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It started with an outline, then filling in the details which continues.

“Where are we on the map, Baker B.? It’s very important we keep up with the map. We’ve come soo far.”

“Let’s see.” Alter.

“We’ve just found out that Elvira, you know, the aunt of Mrs. Ordinary who lives up in Chapel Vile over on the Corsica continent…”

“Yes?”

“She lives at or near Terriergate, the art gallery in Terriergate. This would be on the very western tip of the Lower Austra peninsula, maybe putting it in the Wild West category instead. You see (W.), I’m having a hard time still dividing the regions of the Nautilus continent up.”

“Do you think the elimination of Collagesity would help?” I waited for more and it didn’t come.

“What do *you* think?” I ventured in the gap. Nothing still.

—–

“A spirit is summoned by a witch in Spirit Witch,” I declared.

“Start there,” a faint voice comes from the darkness in the distance.

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Island Art revisited

https://bakerbloch.com/2018/09/27/79984/

How could this be the same background painting as mine? Think, Original Ruby. Think!

Is it the woods? she then turned around in her mind. Like a dancer. Impossible. Right? That would mean…

“… everything is connected, yes,” spoke W., in my head at last. Now maybe I can get some work done (!).

—–

The tableau over there by the same artist. This is me (!). Ruby, the dancer in or of the woods. Tree. Red and green in buckets being used to paint the bottom — the roots — but then blue and yellow being poured on the top — the leaves. And the 3 spherical creatures accomplishing the art?

Wood creatures, perhaps. Persimmons. 199, if not 200. Unch. Living Tree. The woods still have power (!). Even though I don’t live next to them any longer. Collageisty is on Nautilus now, as of novel 13. This is from novel 10, when the woods were still strong and omnipresent. There’s a void…

“What is the void?” spoke W. again. I knew I had to get down and examine the art of the gallery more closely. There be the answers. WOOSH.

Yes, that book. Not mine, but…

Alysha’s.

It reminds me of the tesseract.

Down to the first floor…

I’ve seen this before too.

Maybe this in Dennis.

Which might explain this nearby.

Hmm.

I’m changing.

I’m changing.

I’m changing.

Done.

The wrong Ruby winked out. POOF.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0305, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, New Island^, Omega^^, Wild West

Silversides:

Baker Bloch hiding behind a big potted plant at the rental plaza, just trying to get an idea of who passes through these here parts. None spotted in the time he was there.

Just dummies around.

He’d missed the appearance of Ruby  — Alien version — by a country mile, let’s say. Despite the lack of pavement where the Black Lake Bunch usually hang out in the Chicken Pen, Jen had covered her dusty, dirty tracks well, with lady of the night Nancy Pantsy doing her part 02. I recall little Alysha listening to it all from her own hiding place in The Burro, another alley across from the first. And Dogg… who could forget Dogg? I didn’t.

Deeper we go!

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00310112 (left leaning)

“Good to see you again, Ruby.”

“Good to see you, Baker B.”

“I — didn’t expect to see you here. But, then again, I don’t expect to see anyone anywhere anytime.”

“Surprises, I know. All around.”

“Yes.”

“What do you wish to know tonight? To close.”

“Thank you. How about Nautilus to start. It seems super important still.”

YES… MAYBE… NO.

“Interesting, and how about Iowa?”

YES, YES, YES.

“How about that, Ruby. Iowa.”

“Yes.”

“And the transition from Nautilus to Iowa?”

YES.

“How will this take place?”

The planchette moves to the center of the board. Stops. Circles a bit. Stops. Circles a little. Stops.

“Center, then?”

Circles a bit. Stops.

“Is this Fife?”

“I’m picking up something about automatic writing,” interjects Ruby at this point. “Someone is drawing something.”

“Okay. I maybe see where this is going.”

“A *spirit*, yes. Summoned by a *witch*.”

“That’s you!” Baker Bloch exclaimed, then saw it manifest beside them.

“Inter-resting,” spoke Ruby to end.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, Nautilus^^, Lower Austra^, 0112, Wild West, 0031

now ironically named fire station

“Just remember that you are water and you’ll be fine.”

“So… hot.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0603, Paper Soap, Soap

Satin’s rule

I often dreamed of the explosion that killed Heidi Biker Chick, our former director, soon to be replaced by new director Percy Pierce. It was always the same: I was inside the bar, trying to identity her in the flames and smoke, being burned alive myself. I perish looking for her; perhaps a ceiling beam falls on me, cutting short my horror. But where am I when I wake up? Where am I *now*? (gasp) I sit up: the beam didn’t need to be pushed off me, although I lie in the same position that I died — on the floor. How did I get from my bed to the floor? Everything seemed strange.

In the dreamscape I just left, the fire kept spreading. Now: the fire station itself just next door. Ruby! They’re after Ruby. Better send in the army but, trouble is, the army started it in the first place. Me again, then, I suppose.

I get up. I finish planting the bomb underneath the table where Heidi Biker Chick would meet Hank Graphite later. I know the meeting would start at 7 o’clock sharp. Heidi: always prompt, always professional in her approach to time. 5:05 now. I set the timer for 2 hours. I walk outside, down Violin Lane, back to the depot and the train that brought me here to this brave new world. I am re-swallowed by the tunnel. I wake up for real.

I look over for Alysha but it is 1 year and 2 months too soon. Better get back to work.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0602, Paper Soap, Soap

arrival

She said she didn’t mind but I’m not sure how she made it all the way over here in that position from upper Nautilus. Darn near 5 miles! Of course the different alien physiology allowed her to be balled up like that for a longer period of time. Humans would be turned into sardines. “Ruby, are you there?” I spoke down after opening the multicolored storage container which slipped through Grayling Airport that grey day in early May. “Ruby?”

“Yes,” she said in a watery voice, more than usual since she hadn’t used it in a number of days.

On the other side of her: Billie Jean Kidd; unseen to Alysha; checking to make sure herself that Ruby was okay after the grueling journey — grueling, again, to us humans if we had to do it. Ruby was fine. Being scrunched up like that helped her arthritic neck, actually. She caught up with her long behind self cleaning. She texted old friends with her mind in her otherwise idle body. She finally solved that math equation involving Dark Matter and the Milky Way and the Black Hole at the center of it all. She fell into the Black Hole for a while so she could dream. She woke up refreshed, pure and white as the driven snow. She texted more friends. She revised another equation. More self cleaning. She decided to grow hair and then decided against it, shaving it all off (with her mind, of course). She slept. She woke up. She slept. She woke up, did some more stuff. She slept. She: here.

—–

“Is she okay? Is she damaged in any way?” Billie Jean Kidd knew that Alysha couldn’t hear her but she asked anyway, being nervous and momentarily forgetting her invisibility. She pried her eyes away from tested Ruby and moved them to Alysha, noticing the flowers on the faded blue jeans. “Oh,” she realized. But Alysha answered her anyway, talking to herself as well.

“Looks like she’s been to Jael. And Miccall: she’s a Tilist (!). Thought Martians where always Pentagonalists. And, just there (she checked another part of the rotating glowing blue cube before her): *mermaid*. And jellyfish!” This particular specimen was proving to be more complicated than promised. She’d have to complement The Master on his research as soon as she sees him again. Which should be yesterday’s tomorrow if today’s clock is right.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0410, Blue Feather Sea^, Maebaleia/Satori^^

Satin

In his old cave, he worships the wife before entering the coffee shop proper. Here lies truth, even though the shop itself is now broken. Broken truth, then.

“You’ve mutated so much it’s hard for me to recognize you these days. If it wasn’t for those eyes…”

“That’s what I’m here to talk about,” interjected Ruby, now our familiar green grey alien. “The *I*.”

Seven, Axis knew. The six and the seven. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have killed that old man with the kane.”

“Michael,” she said. “Plank of wood… I’m getting.” She became embarrassed about her wealth of knowledge and decided to reel it back a bit. Starting: now.

“Well, that’s what led me to *here*, yeah.” Axis took her in more. What a long way she’s come from his little Ruby, a naive girl of 15 1/2 not ready for the world at large. And here she is, beyond the world entirely. Extraterrestrial. Should’ve known, he thought. She always had the — best of hearts. Didn’t belong on Earth. “Well… you’re in charge,” he found himself saying. “You’re the boss. Where to now?”

“You’ve found the cave, good,” she said calmly. “Now you must find the art. Collage or painting? Choose.”

He looked into the multicolored flower with this. He knew he was being hypnotized but decided not to fight. Why keep going? Ruby was beyond what he was — a pure heart, a pure soul. He was ready to give it all up, the world conquest, everything.

She didn’t ask him to show her the other one, the person he stares at in the mirror. Probably already knows, he realizes. And doesn’t care. So… perfect. He must worship her as well.

(to be continued)

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