Tag Archives: Ruby^^+++++

November 15, 2018 · 8:04 am

A to Z


Stan Lee (1922-2018)

—–

“Why did you come here?” Greg Ogden queried his ex-wife Flo. “You know I’m with Mr. Babyface now. Oil me up and all.”

“I know. I’m kind of cool with all that actually. You and The Face. You and *you* and The Face.”

“Middletown’s where it’s at, Flo. Treasure Hill. We get oiled up, we paint, we gear down by looking at the bay, then the next day we start over again. Over and over. And over.”

“And when you’re finished… you’re the monster?”

“Sometimes.” He pauses. “Often,” he admits, which was a lesser lie.

Flo pondered this, guessing it was more than he let on. “You paint to stay sane, then.”

“Maybe,” he replied reflexively. Greg turned, stared at the apartment’s media input with Flo. “‘Hidden Vilage’ is you, you know,” he says, referring to his geometric work portrayed on the screen, completed almost a year ago.

“Red yellow blue perfection. But…”

“… there’s always green to contend with,” she finishes.

—–

Banished to the upstairs apartment, am I, while he and the ex talk. Well (he sighs), might as well make good use of it instead of being all jealous and green eyed, I suppose. Study this Big E again — been a while. Let’s see, where’s Xilted on it again?

Ah so. On the other side. Must spin it around.

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November 14, 2018 · 7:23 am

establishing shots

Has he done 2:01am? He tries to think down through the months.

Permanent Green’s dripping from the brush. No time to go back now.

—–

Finished with his approx. 400th Treasure Hill painting, a satisfied Greg Ogden watches the moon set into the Jeogeot Gulf.

Reversion could come any time. Always does after an oil work.

—–

Flo waits patiently on the park bench below the big eucalyptus for her ex-husband to return to the Kidd Tower. Which one will it be? she wonders. Either way, she plans on getting her just due.

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November 13, 2018 · 8:06 am

art beings

“I want to change further, Axis. I am not happy being me any longer. Look at the women Rhode photographed here. Beautiful.”

“You have changed, Young Ruby,” Axis advised. “You are now Fairy Ruby, a natural extension. And certainly quite beautiful. Natural beauty. Not like these more fake examples in my opinion.”

“Look at what I found on the marketplace,” Ruby declared, and then rezzed a new top. “Another natural extension?”

“No, Ruby. Put that foolish thing away. Fairy Ruby is quite satisfactory to me, and besides, we get to be married to each other as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. At least for a while.”

“Until the end of the season, yes.” Ruby persisted. “But how about this with the top.”

“No Ruby,” insisted Axis, staring at the manifested hair. “You are trying too hard. Let’s go to the upper floors, to the more abstract art. That will cheer you up and inspire you more. Leave these so-called realistic photos behind. They’re affecting your confidence.”

“Alright. But I’m going to test out my new look a little longer.”

“That’s fine.”

—–

“See Ruby? You passed this accident right by. Intermixed red and green again. Back of a Rhode work instead of a front. Sometimes looking at what’s happening behind the stage, for example, gives more information than the play itself.”

Ruby runs ahead, ganders at the front…

… then looks all around the floor. “Huh. I guess you’re right, Axis. Everything is separated out neat and tidy in front. Green in this one. Red over there. Then green with a bit of red but only in one distinct streak, then another two reds and then back to green over here. ‘Green Monster’. The one we talked about before.

—–

“I’m not a monster, you know,” stated synchronized Gregg, sitting at the table opposite Mr. Babyface in their unfinished Middletown penthouse apartment. “I got’s real, true feelings. I like… Bailey’s in a shoe. I like watercolors. Watercolors of Bailey’s.” He pauses thoughtfully in his ranting. “I like you.”

“Oil me up, then.” Accompanied by a small buzzing sound, green Gregg Oden changes over to red Greg Ogden. Mr. Normal.

“Ah so.” But Mr. Babyface had been thinking lately that “normal” Greg(g) could do with a little more monster inside him. Might help their sex life. He dare not try all that out with the monster itself yet; not quite yet. Must keep using oil. No, he must think of other things now.

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November 8, 2018 · 6:08 am

third

“I don’t think he-she’s coming out of there, wife of mine. I think we’ve lost her-him to Utah.”

“Don’t always be so negative about things, husband so dear. Utah was chosen by all.”

They paused, considered. Then Fairy Ruby, who was now playing the permitted seasonal role of Mrs. Claus, spoke up again.

“I wonder if Snowmanster will show up to save the day? Like Superman.”

“Depends…” and they both say this in sync: “… if our user splurges the 400 lindens to make it so.” 4 again, I realize beyond the screen, like 40,000 but 100 times less. 2 dollars? I think I can manage it.

—–

“I’m here to save the day!” an extremely, nay, *irritatingly* high pitched Snowmanster wannabe called from the edge of the compound.

“Cheapskate,” groused observing Santa-Axis softer to his wife. Then: “Okay, um, *Snowmanster*! Come join us by the fire for a powwow won’t you!”

“Don’t mind if I do! Don’t mind if I do!”

—–

He was still yelling, even from a few feet away. “Well?! Who’s going to start!?” They stare, waiting for the change. Will it come? Hold on…

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November 3, 2018 · 2:00 pm

boss visit

“At least he seems to have gotten rid of some of the bugs,” spoke Fairy Ruby, anxious to get this over. Those red curtains…

“Is there any other way?” Axis looked at his nails, also nervous.

“No. It has to go through him. Prearranged condition.”

—–

“Marriage!?” Cigar smoking Philip Strevor was incredulous.

“It’s just a seasonal thing. It’s either get married or be buried.” Fairy Ruby leaned foward. “Please, Philip. You’ll be rewarded later on. I promise you. Anything you like. Just don’t let me be… killed again.”

She leans back and thinks of the consequences just exposed.

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November 3, 2018 · 12:14 pm

seasonal

“Well Brevin. Time to face death square on.”

But upon teleporting in, Fairy Ruby sees there are no more freshly dug graves to examine. She logs out then back in to make sure all objects at the small cemetery have properly rezzed. No difference.

Just three remaining graves surrounding a Halloween Bat Tree. All have been around for a while.

Maybe I better talk to Axis tonight about all this.

—–

“Still playing around with form, I see,” stated Axis after sitting down in the Winter Harvest Chair beside the red clad fairy. He notices the hearts. “I like it — but why did you change your hair from black to white?”

“Death will do that. Scare the color out of you.”

Axis glanced back at the shrunk cemetery surrounding the dark tree. “Did you know I was Halloween Jack before the merger? And Nick, and also Melvin, who is kind of Uncle Sam. The great 3-n-1. Would you like to see?”

Fairy Ruby finished her last bite of cherry tart. “Sure. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Axis focused hard, but found he couldn’t produce the needed entity. “Alright,” he said, exhaling. “That’s no good. Let me try the next one.”

“Melvin?” questions the girl.

“Oh. That one.”

“Yeah. Sorry it turned out a little hunchbacked.” He attempted to adjust his unwieldy arms so that they weren’t as much all over the place.

She looked him over. “Listen. I have an idea…”

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October 24, 2018 · 8:22 am

cross

“You’re changing over again.” Her voice was watery and lilting, slightly evil. “You must have stared at that chess piece too long, you *king*.”

“You said there was treasure here in the High Country,” he declared firmly with iron voice. No joking around for him now.

“There *is*.”

“But not up here.”

“No,” she admitted. “That was a trick. Did you enjoy my trick?”

Axis didn’t answer. The transformation had been completed. “Better go groundside then.”

“In just a minute. I’m going to take an (alchemical) bath first. Clean myself off of all this fairy dust.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll leave without you.”

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October 22, 2018 · 9:25 am

RB Mountain 02

Ruby talks with members of the Redmoken Brabin Fan Club gathered at a pool below his looming effigy while waiting to meeting Indigo at the top of the mount. She learned some valuable information from ringleader Aidema Hill, a former Rik Blaisdale groupie, here perched before swimming, fellow Brabinites Ditsy and Zizzy Grant (twins). No big surprise for those familiar with the stuff on the mount: she’s surmised that Rik decided to come back as Red. Ruby suspected another Rhode project, but Indigo had her doubts.

—–

“Aren’t you cold Ruby? I’m freezing on top of this mountain. At least my butt is warm now.”

“This very well could have been one of Timmy’s hideouts he mentioned, Indigo. He didn’t specify RB Mountain directly, but it’s got a great view of the lake he always went on about.”

Indigo looked to her right. “Indeed it does.”

“He said his house was on the east side.” Ruby checks her inworld map. “Let’s see, it seems we’re more on the west side. But now I remember it, he said his parents’ house was burned down in the war.”

“Maybe this clubhouse or hideout or whatever it is wasn’t even built until after the war and Timmy left.”

“No,” counters Ruby to Indigo. “I feel his presence here.” She moves to the other side of the floor. “Look at this map — the Big Nope. I may have remembered him talking about such a place. Something about a well and a refusal. Proposal turned down: Big Nope.”

“Alright. I need to warm my front anyways — back getting toasty. That must have been a heated pool those girls were swimming in.”

“Or MAYBE, this map is the mountain itself. Big Nope on one side, and over here, the Safe Zone. Could be death and life itself. Rik reborn as Red, as Aidema Hill speculated. ‘X’ and ‘O’. Crossed out and then revived. Like as from an egg — womb over tomb. And in the MIDDLE: this hideout. Right on the apex of the mountain. Between death and rebirth. The Big Between.”

“Next thing you’ll be telling me, Young Ruby, is that Timmy himself planned all this to indicate his resurrection.” Ruby stared at her steadily. “Oh. That *is* what you’re telling me.”

But what as? both wondered.

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October 21, 2018 · 10:59 am

little heaven, little hell

“What do you call a flock of crows? A kill of crows?”

“Dunno,” answers Young Ruby, barely legal for this town even with a chaperone. “Thank you for joining me in… could it be my new apartment?”

“Not on my watch,” answers the huskier toned Indigo sitting beside her. She crosses her feet.

‘Murder,” Ruby then uttered. “A murder of crows.”

“Of course.” Indigo looked again at the *murder* atop a neighboring building outside the window.

“Or Murderkill,” Ruby then offered. “Both in one.” Each thought of the art work to their side, depicting two towns trying to kill or murder each other.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait and see what happens… see what magic Rhode can still produce.”

“Right you are,” states Young Ruby to her older companion.

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October 21, 2018 · 9:30 am

green monster

It’s going to take a lot to convince these good, conservative people of Utah to merge further, Ruby thinks from her rocking chair beside the freshly dug grave. Rhode is cool with it, though, and that’s a foothold. Rhode, Rhoad, Road.

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