Epic RP
That was not noncensical, it was epic and deep. As in "as a metaphor relevant to RL" deep.
*Beeep... beeep... beeep... click.*Aqizzar turn the public radio frequency on, the hud shows a live feed of Armok in a finely furnished room, there is a lot of static, and when he speaks there is a fair bit of audio static to.
"A beautiful speech to accompany a beautiful piece of history, from before this world yet in all our minds a symbol of it and it's demise.
But as for your conclusion lets not be hasty, the war is not dead, never dead, but it is cold and still. waking it up before we are prepared would be rash.
Meaning, and the craving for it... cravings come in two kinds, hungers which can be satisfied, and greeds that will only be fuelled by trying to satisfy them. I do not know which kind the craving for meaning is, but I know mine is possibly the strongest.
This has always been a game, to some extent, a serious game from time to time, but still a game, as you found greater meaning in that other place, the Irl.
Yet I have found that land either barren or not in my taste, my heart lies within these realms of digits, for me, while it still is a game, it is much less so for the very reason I have little interests outside of games.
The power of VN was immense, and I think it still is, but like the sun it was chaotic, untamed, uncontrollable. It might be foolish, but I cant help but think of what that force would be if tamed. If Varius Nonsense got Toady One himself to rise and slay it, how unstoppable would not the power of Varius Sense be?
But I disgress, that is but a dream, perhaps a foolish one, maybe an engine fuelled by insanity can produce little but it's own fuel.
And while you are out, reclaiming relics and musing the cores of existence, I am sitting back here monologuing. It is an irony I did not know at the time that my icon in these events would be the undead, for what am i now but a ghost? I linger, a shadow of my former self, longing for a past that may not return, and hold back here by my buisnis unfinished...
Where is the wolf that was howling?
Where are the empires rising and falling?
Where is the assisin, tongue, dagger and pencil all sharp?
They have passed like the wind in the mountains, like bits in an archive, like yesterdays meme.
Yet I sit here, and I cannot forget."
*you can almost see a single tear rolling down the cheek, despite not having a cheek and all actual features being in shadow. before you can make sure the transmission cut of.*