-- DEAD --

3 days ago

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@arachneanGambit[AG]

"Oh Vriska, how did you die anyway?" Oh, random reader, I'm soooooooo glad you asked! Those among you who've 8een keeping your prying little peepers on my saga as the greatest FLARPer to ever live MUST know that I spent quite a while ruling over my own personal rock: FLARPlanet. That's right. A whole planet dedic8ed to FLARP! Except, okay, technically it was a moon. 8ut "FLARPlanetoid" sounds completely pathetic 8y comparison, and I wasn't a8out to sa8otage the 8randing 8efore I'd even finished conquering the place. Not that FLARPlanet was exactly flying merchandise off the shelves anyway. Whatever. I digress. 8asically, I, the Lemnisc8 herself, Vriska Serket, ran the place with an iron fist. And I mean that in the most flattering possi8le way. I won 64 FLARP seasons in a row against thousands of would-8e competitors. No deaths! No catastrophes! No humiliating campaign-ending disasters! My loot was always top shelf, my alliances were immaculate, my dungeons were un8eata8le, and I was, quite simply, the 8est. Shocking, I know. 8ut the lead-up to Season 64 changed FLARPlanet pretty dramatically. See, the place was already a weird little SGRU8 relic. Most importantly, it had some kind of post-game Frog Temple ecto8iology la8oratory 8uried in it, along with a whole 8unch of lingering game infrastructure no8ody had 8othered to dismantle. I let Equius and a few other people poke around with those systems whenever they needed them, and everything was peachy keen. 8ut I had 8igger plans. I needed a neutral third-party voice for SGRU8 during the 64th season. Someone capa8le of taking over FLARPlanet so I could finally retire with dignity in my extremely advanced old age. So I did what any intelligent, resourceful, incredi8ly talented troll would do. I alchemized one. Using a few completely paltry ingredients, I attempted to create my very own Excellent Host, some8ody who would do wh8ever I wanted, manage the planet, adjudicate the game, and generally save me the trou8le of doing everything myself for once. It seemed like a GREAT plan at the time. Instead, I got Rose. Woegothe, or whatever. A sickly pale human with some vague approximation of the Host's powers. She had *just* enough juice to keep FLARPlanet running, which was useful, 8ut nowhere near enough to sate the rest of my app8ite. Still, Woegothe was interesting. Weird, o8viously, 8ut interesting. We 8ecame moirails pretty quickly. Unfortunately, that woman came with her own collection of pro8lems. When she arrived, she 8rought along a whole cadre of cave8s I couldn't account for. Then the actual planet FLARPlanet or8ited started turning that particular shade of sickly green. You know the one. THAT green. 8efore I knew it, I was staring a cue8all and a cheru8 directly in the eyes, which was something I'd very happily avoided doing for several sweeps. And yes, 8efore any8ody says anything, I *was* young and pretty 8ack then. Extremely pretty, actually. Then those two effectively acceler8ed my aging until I ended up looking like this ancient hagmolt. I knew I only had a couple sweeps left, at 8est, so I got to work. Woegothe and I spent ages re8uilding and editing FLARPlanet whenever she wasn't 8usy playing doctor. We gutted it, expanded it, layered dungeon on top of dungeon, and got the whole thing primed and ready for what was supposed to 8e my grand finale. What that stupid little witch somehow neglected to mention was that SHE was apparently the thing keeping our architectural nightmare from o8eying 8asic physics. 8ecause, surprise! If you hollow out a moon, carve millions of layers of dungeons through it, then remove the reality-warping freak responsi8le for keeping the whole thing sta8le, gravity starts getting ideas. FLARPlanet 8egan collapsing inward. Slowly at first. A floor here, a dungeon there. Nothing I couldn't ignore while pretending everything was completely under control. 8ut every layer that fell added more mass to the center, which increased the gravitational pull, which made more layers collapse, which added even MORE mass, and eventually the entire stupid moon had turned itself into a progressively hotter, denser, increasingly unsurviva8le death trap. My death was already imminent anyway. That's the really stupid part. Instead of getting a8oard my Hiveship like some8ody with even the faintest sense of self-preservation, I wasted my remaining time making sure whatever FLARPers Gamzee hadn't killed, what, two perigees earlier? actually made it off the planet. They got evacuated. They got to live. Very heroic of me, o8viously. Try not to sound TOO surprised. 8y the time I finally tried to leave, though, the game was pretty much over. No wings. Empty jet8oots. Collapsing moon. And a whole cavalcade of catastrophic unluck piling up at exactly the wrong moment. Turns out whatever scraps of power the old Thief of Light still had tucked up her sleeve had finally dissip8ed. Pretty em8arrassing way for someone like me to die, right? Personally, I would've preferred something with a little more spectacle. So stop asking 'who killed you Vriska?' It was me. No, I'm not going to try to come 8ack to life. No, I'm not returning. I'm mainly making a post to show off @tene8rificTermagent's amazing art in the form of my profile picture. #Violence #Death #8ait #88 #Rose #Woegothe #Tragedy #NotReally #Les8ians #Amirite