The sign said to duck, I will therefore go like the ducks probably have
RUN!
Holder of the Longest Continuous Weekly Mafiascum Post Record. 1 July 2012 - 16 Feb 2023
*It may be held by someone else if you discount the major downtime in 2012 and 2014, I'm not doing the research.
"I, too, would prefer to know the Xalxe of my demise." - Felissan, 2022
- On this day in history: mundanity, and terror, and food, and love, and trees -
KingdomAces will be replaced by a conspicuously similar-but-obviously-not-the-same actor by the name of Gammagooey from here on out. I have been assured he will take 20% less salary and do his own stunts, but in exchange I must supply a full deli platter to his trailer every other day so his position on the show is dependant on the price of salami.
Been ping-ponging back and forth between "going out of town" and "not going out of town" for a few days. Have an answer of no so working on updating now~
The bombs approach with frightening frequency as everyone quickly scrambles. BipolarChemist stands there in shock, bits of Gerald mixing with the single tear that runs down his cheek as an explosion rocks the ground near him, sending him hurtling into a tree with a velocity only describable as "ouch".
Felissan instead makes the decision to duck for cover, taking refuge in a nearby drainage pipe alongside a turtle which he names Bert. Remember kids, Bert ducks and covers! He's smart, but he has shelter on his back, so you must learn to find shelter!
People who didn't learn to find shelter, however, include literally everyone else. Cheery Dog runs off in a random direction, tripping over a branch hidden in the grass and coming to a sudden stop as a piece of shrapnel from the bomb finds the front side of his neck. Gurgling gasps fill the air as he slowly slides down the jagged piece of metal before coming to a gruesome stop. Xalxe also runs, but veers towards the pond. He twists his ankle, tumbling down an embankment just as a nearby tree gets ripped from its ground by a blast. It lands with a devastatingly loud thud accompanied by a sickening crack of shattering bone, leaving Xalxe not unlike a used tube of toothpase.
A member of the other troupe of panicking nitwits sarcastically yells "Timber!" in a way that makes you want to punch them in the face. You can't quite tell who but you're pretty sure it's that one. You know,
that
one. The one no one likes.
Unfortunately though, Chevre meets his end as a bomb lands square in front of him, blasting apart his body in the process. The percussive force slams him back into animorpherv1, each's neck snapping from the sheer whiplash. Ani's arm finds a waiting Elekitu behind him, knocking him unconscious and sending him over the embankment where he lands in the pond, face-down. McMenno and randomidget both attempt to scatter, before another bomb lands dead center on McMenno, blasting bits off of him. A sharp piece of his rib cage hurtles into randomidget's eye socket, instantly stabbing deep into his brain. He falls over, body propped up on the jagged piece of bone.
Felissan walks through the land after the bombs stop. He surveys the land, seeing all of his fellow comrades gone or otherwise destroyed. Distraught, he continues onwards alone.
It becomes an unfortunate fact of life that, as budgets dwindle, a simple walking group must also accommodate a tour from a home for the elderly. And it also becomes an unfortunate fact of life that we are not immortal.
Aronis, xRECKONERx, and KuroiXHF are now all too-familiar with that. They signed up to hop on the bus from Sunny Shores on over to the park, thinking a bit of exercise would do them good. But no more. Grandchildren will have to be informed, grandma and grandpa are no more. Natural causes. We weren't sure, really, until a task as monumentally simple as ordering lunch caused them to slump forward. DNRs, all of them. Nothing we could do.
As the remaining members of the group at the museum somberly enjoy their food, they realize that it has no flavor. All the light in the day has been extinguished by this tragic, tragic loss of people who did no wrong but also couldn't make a simple choice between 3 things on a menu.
Life goes on, though. Grandma Reck would've wanted it that way.
You enter a gift shop on your way out of the museum. You're allowed to get one of three different things, on the house from the museum as a token of sympathy for your lost comrades.
Would you like...
A T-shirt
OR
A model bi-plane
OR
A coffee mug
Either way, you must decide by 5 PM Eastern on Friday.