Category Archives: Rank & File

00470303 (6666 posts, 666 pages — coincidence?)

“And so that’s how it all started, this story of FILE derived from TILE,” observing Nauty declared in his wise guy way. “We simply had to move Firey from 4th to 1st in this bottom group of 4 to spell out the word F-I-L-E with the first letters of their reordered names. F stands in for T because these are the 2 straight letters of the alphabet which can contain 7 sub-letters per the TILE game structure. The BFDI object-character colors here also match the 4 of TILE in red green blue yellow of course, although the individual letter to color correspondences are different from the game board. I could go on and on, but I’ll ask you the burning question that now presents itself up front and center alongside or even on top of repositioned Firey: What happened to the Dream Island all these characters were so fiercely battling over, often to their deaths? We know the answer to that too, given it presents itself as a constant in *our* world.”

“Constance,” I say to this, citing the name of the FILE sim that is also the name of the island in question.

“Correct,” he wheezes. “We should return but I’m not sure that’s possible given all else that’s happened in the meantime.” Since the demise of my attempted urban center there I dubbed Constantynople, I understood. Back toward the end of photo-novel 39 I believe. Checking….. checking….. Yes. 39. The island seems to have changed little in the intervening 2 or so years, indeed an aberration for such a large group of separately owned properties in the ever changing world that is Our Second Lyfe. It truly appears to represents some sort of sticky outie constant.


pin filled map of Constance Island with my former Constantynople at the top

“But we still have, let’s see, the rest of FILE,” I said, “the other 30 sims in this column that Constance more or less centers. Minus the hacked off 1 at the top.”


Constance Island in the middle of the 32>31 Nautilus continent “FILE” (purple column)

“Exactly centers including the hacked off 1 at the top,” furthers Nauty, knowing his continent better than me, since it is the same as his body in essence, pins stuck just there there there there, and so on and so forth. Constance is just a start. But also an end. “(The sim of) Ten Pages is 10 up from the bottom,” he continues with his FILE knowledge, “indicating that the 32 minus 1 (the top sim was wacked off in the retirement process), taken as a whole, are pages of a book, perhaps a chapter, perhaps more.”

“A section,” I say. But then I knew it had to be 2 if so.

“The… doorstep to the Temple of TILE was positioned right smack in the center of the 32 sim FILE,” he pinpoints while wheezing out.

Suddenly I knew what had to be done.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0303, Constantynople, Goikyland, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File, Temple of TILE

00470213 (1/2 way to Nowheresville (Tomasina))

“Stop beating, Hank. Stop. BEATING”

Hank knew it was technically slapping so he didn’t stop. Until the gun came out, *POP*.

“Take that. POP.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0213, Nautilus, Rank & File

00450403

“I figured we need to talk.”

“Mmmmm,” says Fern in return. “I know that was you talking since I was drinking my beer (!). So… what up? *Wendy*.”

“I’m still Wendy to you, huh.”

“Ever since Castletown, yeah. And, let’s see, you said you had information about the missing Lichen for me, I’m going to say. Part of our troupe after all.” She takes another swig. Blue Sky; pretty good. Hint of grapefruit, hint of raspberry, lots of hops.

“As you can see, my hair is blue. I’m not really Wendy here,” counters, um, I suppose this is Shelley, then. Shelley Johnston Struthers. Or Johnson.

“I see your hair.” Fern looks over. “I see your outfit. Crazy Blue both.” You’ve been taken over, she thinks. “What are your plans for this continent, this Nautilus, dearest? You’re here at the Scorpion Lake or whatever the locals call it — haven’t asked. Not yet anyway. Depends on if we’re staying. Are we? Staying?”

Shelley envisions walking around this inland sea of Nautilus, so full of arms they had to name it after an insect. Apparently. I knew it was suppose to be the Alamo Sea up in Grand Theft Auto V we were walking around but she became a distraction. Crazy Blue indeed. Will she keep the hair? Just found it by accident on the marketplace.

Fern: “We have to bridge the gap between you (points to Shelley in her yellow chair), and me (points to herself in the green chair). I think ‘Frank’s Moving Mountain’ was invoked. You can manifest that *here*, you know.”

Shelley was pondering what to say next when Fern got up.

Soon she found herself on a different parcel, walking away from the scene at the beach and its 4 chairs in a row. But not before one of those local giant crabs corrected her on the name Scorpion Lake, overhearing their conversation with his inner but still sensitive enough ears. “It’s *Starfish*. Starfish Sea,” he said proudly, having lived on its shores and in its water all his live long life.

“Oh, okay,” said Fern, logging it into her computer of a brain while continuing to head up to green beyond lower yellow.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0403, GTA, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File

00400405

“There!” she cried again. “Mother’s apple!” She was still studying, still perusing the category “All Orange” in the blog through her remote feed. Orange slice after orange slice, she ate, trying to get the whole, rounded picture.

“And there!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0405, Nautilus, Omega^^, Rank & File, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^, Yd Island^

00400404

She was back in her old room doing remote research. Mother provided free food, just like in childhood. She had a tape recorder and several hour long tapes in which to record her thoughts. She started at the beginning and worked her way up to the present. Early on she found her Volkswagen bug. “There!” she pointed out to herself and herself only. For now. “Like Emma’s, like Jack’s before her. Or after her, doesn’t matter. A story in a brook.”

The man is Tropp, she recalled. Grown up from Opp and wearing a birthday hat instead of a birthday suit. But she gets the point. He started out as an Mmmmmm but became more, unlike his cousin Grassy who remained a mere toy. He walks pass the bug and through the arch to yesterday’s tomorrowland.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0404, Nautilus, Omega^^, Rank & File, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^

00400100

Pink observes yellow (and wants).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0100, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390612

She was waiting on someone to tell her who she was, what her real name was, when she decided on her own. The hair makes the girl, she thinks. Thus I am Marsha Pink Krakow, standing proud against the evil of the world and living another day to tell others about and, together, finding out ways to deal with such *shadows*. Not monsters… as much as part of ourselves, ready to spring forth and surprise us if we ignore the signs too long. What were my signs? What were Tammy’s/Frankie’s? Push to stardom for me. Drumming. I wanted to be bigger than Starr and Moon, bigger than *Bonham* even (Led Zeppelin drummer who died, like The Who’s Moon — and Pink herself in that variant reality she just exited — way way too early).

“Shelley,” she speaks aloud to emphasize the affirmation, “you and your Doodle-Bug Hair Blonde had its run and, not failed, but didn’t quite cross over the finish line. I am that finish line. I represent death conquered, shadow conquered. And Tammy/Frankie too, wherever she is inside, conscience or not. She is there. And you are too, Shelley, because you provided me the body I now inhabit. I will always be grateful. But I am Marsha… Pink… Krakow.”

She feels two drumsticks manifest in her right back pocket. She will be more humble this time around, more conscious of other’s dreams and desires and not just blot them out with her own bright wannabe future. She will take this golden opportunity to be the best she can possibly be — not a drummer this time around, although that talent may increase too just by proxy, but simply a person, a human being. That’s what it’s all about, Marsha thinks here, not waiting on anyone any longer, knowing who she is. She can make this world what she wishes it to be. She can manifest: joy.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0612, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390611

They came out of it but they were a mess; all mixed up. She had the body of Shelley still, true, but the clothes and hair of Marsha plus, on top of this, the gestures — well, gesture (*gasp*) of Tammy, formerly Frankie.

She erased the gasp by lowering her littler hand from her mouth. Slowly Sloowly. Don’t want to break anything this soon. She was in a different place, a different land. She looked back on where she came from.

The little devil in front of her approached, offering some grody looking soup. “Patriot soup,” he said in a muffled kid’s voice, like he was wearing a costume instead of being an actual demon. “Straight from Wonderland.” He came ever closer, soup extended a bit more. He was right up on her.

“Oh why the heck not,” she said, and took the bowl and sipped.

—–

When she lowered it from her mouth, the bowl was suddenly a couple of feet more above the floor than when she started the sip. The body of Shelley remained, she realized, but it was the big body, the grown up one. Marsha still ruled in the clothes department. And the hair. And maybe the eyes — she wasn’t quite sure yet without a mirror; she couldn’t tell just by “feel”. And Tammy/Frankie was still somewhere within, a guiding conscience perhaps. “You must choose,” she thought she heard it say to herself, whoever *she* is. Shelley? Marsha? Tammy, even? The little devil who had retreated back upon the newest transformation eyed her keenly, cocking his head a bit and taking it all in. “You have… boyys.” He’d seen them before. Blue Berry Girl.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0611, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

Phyllis

“‘No purple,'” I said from the side, quoting from the introduction of the world famous manifesto, *her* manifesto. “Yet you sit on purple.”

“Um hmm.” She nodded.

“Is this, then, about the boyy?”

She contemplated an answer for a second, then: “Yes, this is about the boyy more than anything else. And why I chose to avoid talking about the subject, the color. The gurl too, obviously. If–”

“Lisa,” I clarified, then regretted interrupting her flow. She was, after all, a master channel. So all the TILists say that count. But this was beyond (the) four. Hard to tell how many could keep up if all this was made public. Which was, I suppose, my job.

“If only (another pause), for a contrast. Say, priceless versus highly priced, very high indeed but still a certain amount — not infinite.”

“The boyy is a pure channeler,” I dared. I had to know.

Again the pause. She was in the spotlight, as it should be. Making shit happen per usual. “Pure as in 2 separate from 1. Let me illustrate.” She shifts her weight slightly on the latex ottoman, making it squeak but pleasantly, I noted. “Where *I’m* from there is a city of the land that is as central as a heart. Named for the founder of our great land. Brightonia is its name. Yet eventually, as a center must find a circumference to become circular and all encompassing and also reflect in on itself, a 2nd great city was formed, not as big or important as the first but still two. A balance; a sidekick if you will. Necessary: a role assigned. This is the boyy. And from those 2 come all else.”

‘The great scribe Nauty of Naughtilus has taken credit for the boyy’s channel. Is this correct?”

Pause. “All things being equal: yes. The pen was neither red nor blue.”

“Describe the gurl’s role.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0511, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390507

Pitch woke up on the other side of the Heart of the Island forest in a mess. His head hurt. He didn’t remember what happened. Wheeler, he then recalled. She ate the wrong kind. She won’t be getting out as easily as me. He raises up a bit and looks around at the big pink doughnut he sits in, he *escaped* in. He dares to look over at the police box through the trees, envisions the girl entering it and encountering whiteness inside. *That* was his salvation. Little Shelley Struthers from Hooktip just up or down the lane. Uncorrupted. Able to resist chocolate and other sweets, no chewy gum for example. Just as pure as golden ticket Charlie before her. But what now? He can’t leave without Wheeler, he understands. She is still a part of him, despite the, erm, evil. No: misjudgment. He’ll have to go back inside. To the beginning!

“Let’s actually switch, Wheeler,” he says over when getting there just before the first bite, thanks to Shelley’s help once more. “I think I can handle chocolate a little better than you.”

“Heartburn, yeah,” Wheeler said, remembering her once in a while condition and withdrawing the object from her salivating mouth — just a bit.

“Here,” Pitch said, extending the pink one in her direction and ready to grasp the brown with the other. Can she?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0507, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File