Hm, looks like someone thought it fun to meddle with the necromantic power of emails. Now that I've risen from my pasta-lined tomb (which I'll have you know was perfectly al dente, mizal) I guess I have to provide a minimum semblance of life. Even though I'm pretty sure my mouth is presently leaking embalming fluid, I'll try to power on. I just reinstalled discord on my (finally) new phone, and I'm glad to see I've been a functional prop for the server. I'm also sorry for anyone who sent me DMs asking about my actual well-being, I simply haven't used discord at all and I'm one of those rare fucktards that don't realize saying goodbye before turning into a zombie is common courtesy. Well, unreliable characters are more fun to read than considerate ones after all, right?
I could spew some “life got in the way" spiel, which is also true, but the main reason I stopped posting is because I'm very inconsistent with some of my interests and, well, I lost interest in CYOAs. I’ve always lived by the “don't say something unless you actually have something to say" guideline; when I realized I had forgotten to contribute to the site/discord for a while and I probably wouldn't get back into it, I just dropped off without a word like a dumbass. Which is also why I’m really surprised and confusedly touched I’ve been kept in the server as a creepy ornament, but for OCD purposes go ahead and remove me since at the moment I've got nothing to offer.*
I'll drop back in when I have something to contribute again. I’m happy to see new bannable meat has joined the ranks, and since the only thing I was capable of doing was being anal about grammar, I'm sure I've been fully replaced. I've never liked writing but I've always enjoyed reading what you guys came up with (although sometimes not for flattering reasons) and I think you're a good example of a small but well-run community that refuses to rot away and die as many bigger ones do. The cockroaches of writing sites. Or the tardigrades, for the international nerds still out there.
So goodbye for now, and a generic but deeply felt thanks (especially to Mayana for not crossing the border at night to carve my eyes out, and to Killa for taking a nice pic of my former tomb during his trip.)
And no, I didn't meet Romulus in the afterlife. Italians aren't white enough to be allowed into Valhalla.
GLORY TO CYSTIA atque valete.
*besides my corpse, which I donate as recruit to EndMaster's glorious army of the dead.