Welcome back AW

[Phatez]

This isn’t meant as a RNF but I post it here for freedom of speech purposes.

Welcome back AW! Stoked to see you guys in hate and saving DAP within hours of your suspension ending. We look forward to having you back in ToV!

I missed you guys.

Phatez

[Bboboo]

I say 2 weeks 5 days, price is right rules

[Docx]

In all honesty welcome back.

[Tupakk]

1 dollar

[icedwards]

https://i.imgur.com/6595q.gif

[Xaeophi]

lol you both sound sound miserable. Stormfeather sucks for everyone whether your casual or not. Lodi is fte. If u want lodi go there and get him yourself. The last lodi spawns were awakened yeah.. But who else was there to even contest fte? no one? except some afk warrior who was not in the water prob just there to get a lodi tod.

[deezy]

This feels kind of appropriate.

https://youtu.be/SDea7laHD4E

[Nikkanu]

at least stormfeather and lodi will be available for the casuals now...

[Mon Apr 02 xx:xx:xx 2018] You gain party experience!!
[Mon Apr 02 xx:xx:xx 2018] Lodizal bellows and thrashes around. His flippers kick hard snow and ice into the air. His maw snaps and opens like a promise of death.

[skarlorn]

cringe 4 above posters decreasing societal merit!

[Sonderbeast]

Join Date: Mar 2014
Posts: 1,052
Talking
Quote:
Originally Posted by Rivera View Post
at least stormfeather and lodi will be available for the casuals now...
[Mon Apr 02 xx:xx:xx 2018] You gain party experience!!
[Mon Apr 02 xx:xx:xx 2018] Your mom bellows and thrashes around. Her flippers kick hard snow and ice into the air. Her maw snaps and opens like a promise of death.

FTFY

[RedXIII]

Thanks friends, can't wait to raid. Sadly i belive mobs are poping mid week this next cycle? Meh... lets see if work allows me to log in to slain some merbs.

<3

[skarlorn]

u got a job during the suspension?

nice going man!

[Swish2]

Interested to see if Kittens / Europa / other guilds had a spike in raid attendance during this time...

[Swish2]

... and not because more was open, but because there's some AW pals dual guilding.

[Just facts]

... and not because more was open, but because there's some AW pals dual guilding.

Higher chance that a casual player has alts in A/A to gear them up than a A/A member alt active raiding in a casual guild imo.
Then you can argue which is the main guild...as long as staff doesn't care if you are member of several guild's and are able to bypass raid suspensions by just raiding with your other guilds hard to say anything about it.
That said if you have members that are very casual and only go for dropable loot, might want to see if they get more active when another guild is suspended.

Always wondered how staff is ok with being member of several guild's yet you are not supposed to be able to assist on anything you concede, if you just switch to your other guild and kill something you are not supposed to touch how is that different from assisting with killing something you concede?

[ItsDeckard]

Thanks for the warm welcome back. This week was rough but it was good to be back! My name is Deckard and I'm the player who plays Supporting, Serenading, Scrying and sometimes Screeching, all from Awakened which I think is a pretty great guild. I came here today to share more about my personal life and some of the things I'm enthusiastic about, one of those things is Fresca and I'd like to talk to you about it.

In 1966, the Coca-Cola corporation created Fresca, a lemon lime sparkling beverage for the world to enjoy. Even if you're not from the United States, you can enjoy Fresca all over the world under different brand names, but it's still that classic Fresca! Growing up in a place called Lake Martin in the south, I remember days where I would get in my great aunt's pedal paddle boat and paddle up to a lake side convenience store, a ride that takes about 30 minutes, and purchase a single chilled can of Fresca to enjoy on the way back.

My whole life, I've wondered why she is following me, what link we must've shared that I wasn't able to detect somehow. She keeps to herself most of the time, walking on tree lines or just outside my window. We had an argument not too long ago and she's been a little more shy about when she wants to see each other. She likes to come in when I'm asleep and watch me sleep, it's a little unnerving sometimes honestly but you know, once I left my girlfriend, mother seems to be happy. Sometimes it's hard to tell with that face of hers. Once you get over the blood between the parts of skin, it's really not that bad. I've seen her without that mask of skin, a few times actually. I grew up on a ranch and I saw a lot of cow skulls and horns, it was in fashion to hang them on the wall, if I had to describe her face under that sewn together skin, it's like that. A white cow skull that looks too big for her shoulders. On an adventure a few years ago, we visited a hostile place that I won't go into detail about, I'll just sum it up for you as briefly as possible. It's a world we weren't supposed to be in with a group of what we'll settle on calling extremists who fashioned a spiritual belief system based on worshiping a solid metal head that they kept in this little glass chamber where they kept it red hot using some kind of heating element. We were there to find something she said she wanted, well she made clear to me she wanted. Mother never talks, not like you or I might, it's not even like telepathy or whatever. It's difficult to explain but to be clear, she makes it absolutely clear what she wants without words of any kind, it's like if a person wanted a hug, you'd just think of how it feels to hug them. Anyway, so we're sitting there behind this tipped over vending machine and bullets are eating into it and I was waiting for her to give me the signal. She looked over to me and nodded a little, it took me almost thirty years so far to teach her to nod. So I get up, take a firm stance and just start shooting like a crazy person. I'm pretty confident at this point because mother is really good at this sort of thing, but then it happened. -- I woke up under her and she's looking down at me with those big black eyes of her and I can taste her on my lips. It's somewhere between vinegar and motor oil, heavy and acrid. She reaches down and wraps her ratty, frankly disgusting rotten fingers around the chin of the mask. She slowly pulls it up like motorcycle helmet visor and under it, there she is, my highschool sweetheart. The first girl I'd ever had sex with, right there under mother's face. I know then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she killed Mia. I remember the first summer I saw this thing she did, we'd have kids come over that were my age and she'd pour them a glass of black milk, they'd drink it and go into the basement and I'd see that kid on a milk carton a week later. She tried to give me the milk too sometimes, I'd just politely decline. It's rare she use a whole face like this, nostalgia bit me hard and for some reason I wanted to kiss her. Mother asked how I was feeling and I just shrugged a little, but why am I on the floor all of a sudden? Mother's head turns a quarter turn to the side like a curious dog and I hear the sound of water by a stone beach, a sound like sarcastic clapping as she took the stuff she kept in one of her bags and began to play with it between her hands like warming up a piece of clay. She leaned down and, I forgot to mention, this is basically her way of telling me what happened, not necessarily what happened. So she starts spreading this stuff all over my face but at this point I'm actually kind of freaked out because .. well, I didn't have a face. I got shot in the face and mother was working that material into the hole whatever bullet left in my face. I imagine I looked pretty worried at this point but mother's eyes were focused on me like she was staring at something behind me. Once I leaned up and sat with my back against the soda machine, I caught a glimpse of the thing she'd made with the leftover flesh, she'd made a sort of box out of the people worshiping the skull in the center of the room. It moved subtly, not around but the walls of it would go in and out like it was trying to figure out what muscles moved what part of it's new form. I suggested maybe we should just kill it but mother seemed not to hear me. "Did she suffer very much?" I remember asking, thinking about Mia. I think mother could sense how sad this all made me so I guess in her limited understanding of what humans like, decided to show me the thing I was thinking about. Mia's legs, wow, the single nicest set of legs I'd ever seen. Just slightly brown and gold. South east Asian women have that color and it just burns me up inside, it's what I'd call 'ideal' in women. When mother sat down beside me, she batted the old torn up set of rags she wore down to her ankles and there they were, those beautiful brown legs. It made me sad to think that everyone I would ever love in my life, mother would give them that black milk and I'd never see them again until mother decided to walk them in front of me again. I had a stupid look on my face that almost hid the grimace the idea of mother taking Mia apart with those rotten fingers like broken toy spread across my new face. I took a deep breath and in my heart of hearts, I thought how empty I felt finally knowing I'd never see the real Mia ever again. Mother extended her hand to me and wrapped in those dirty fingers of hers, a 1966 original bottle of Fresca with the original logo and everything. When I looked up to her face, Mia's face, she nodded but I couldn't figure out to what, that's the problem with mother's nod. It seems random sometimes. Maybe that's why I'd gotten shot in the face and brought back instantaneously by an extra-dimensional force who spend most of her free time body snatching anyone I had any kind of affection for. I guess it's her way of trying to make me happy. 1966 Fresca is so much better than anything you can even begin to imagine, I was so blown away it's clarity of taste. Walking back to the thin spot, I'd almost forgotten. "Did you get your thing?" I recalled asking while trying to stifle how impressed I was by the taste of this drink. Mother leaned down to one of the dead bodies, one she hadn't included in the cube in the main room, and struggled to remove the shoelace of one of the monks. Once she had it though, she wrapped around the neck of the Fresca bottle and seemed content. I still have that Fresca bottle and the shoestring. Sometimes I sniff it and hope to catch a whiff of that 1966 Fresca, but it's long gone. She still shows me those legs sometimes and even worse than that, she knows I like them on her.

Lyndon B. Johnson liked Fresca so much that he had a fountain tap put into the oval office so he could enjoy it as much as he wanted. There's even a version in South America called Quatro that is sweetened like normal colas that Coca-Cola manufactures.

So that's some Fresca facts for you! Thanks everyone for the warm welcome back again and I hope next time you see a Fresca, that you'll enjoy the simple, clean citrus flavor in sparkling water that it provides and that you remember that getting involved romantically or otherwise with an entity that will disappear your closest acquaintances in order to impress you after she rebuilds your face with god knows what because you're invading an otherwise peaceful monastic order for a shoestring and got shot in the face doing so sounds probably a lot cooler than it actually is.

I'll lurk here for a bit if anyone has any questions about Fresca.

[Sonderbeast]

Never met you Deckard, but I had to put you on ignore for that. Well done.

[mefdinkins]

Thanks for the warm welcome back. This week was rough but it was good to be back! My name is Deckard and I'm the player who plays Supporting, Serenading, Scrying and sometimes Screeching, all from Awakened which I think is a pretty great guild. I came here today to share more about my personal life and some of the things I'm enthusiastic about, one of those things is Fresca and I'd like to talk to you about it.

In 1966, the Coca-Cola corporation created Fresca, a lemon lime sparkling beverage for the world to enjoy. Even if you're not from the United States, you can enjoy Fresca all over the world under different brand names, but it's still that classic Fresca! Growing up in a place called Lake Martin in the south, I remember days where I would get in my great aunt's pedal paddle boat and paddle up to a lake side convenience store, a ride that takes about 30 minutes, and purchase a single chilled can of Fresca to enjoy on the way back.

My whole life, I've wondered why she is following me, what link we must've shared that I wasn't able to detect somehow. She keeps to herself most of the time, walking on tree lines or just outside my window. We had an argument not too long ago and she's been a little more shy about when she wants to see each other. She likes to come in when I'm asleep and watch me sleep, it's a little unnerving sometimes honestly but you know, once I left my girlfriend, mother seems to be happy. Sometimes it's hard to tell with that face of hers. Once you get over the blood between the parts of skin, it's really not that bad. I've seen her without that mask of skin, a few times actually. I grew up on a ranch and I saw a lot of cow skulls and horns, it was in fashion to hang them on the wall, if I had to describe her face under that sewn together skin, it's like that. A white cow skull that looks too big for her shoulders. On an adventure a few years ago, we visited a hostile place that I won't go into detail about, I'll just sum it up for you as briefly as possible. It's a world we weren't supposed to be in with a group of what we'll settle on calling extremists who fashioned a spiritual belief system based on worshiping a solid metal head that they kept in this little glass chamber where they kept it red hot using some kind of heating element. We were there to find something she said she wanted, well she made clear to me she wanted. Mother never talks, not like you or I might, it's not even like telepathy or whatever. It's difficult to explain but to be clear, she makes it absolutely clear what she wants without words of any kind, it's like if a person wanted a hug, you'd just think of how it feels to hug them. Anyway, so we're sitting there behind this tipped over vending machine and bullets are eating into it and I was waiting for her to give me the signal. She looked over to me and nodded a little, it took me almost thirty years so far to teach her to nod. So I get up, take a firm stance and just start shooting like a crazy person. I'm pretty confident at this point because mother is really good at this sort of thing, but then it happened. -- I woke up under her and she's looking down at me with those big black eyes of her and I can taste her on my lips. It's somewhere between vinegar and motor oil, heavy and acrid. She reaches down and wraps her ratty, frankly disgusting rotten fingers around the chin of the mask. She slowly pulls it up like motorcycle helmet visor and under it, there she is, my highschool sweetheart. The first girl I'd ever had sex with, right there under mother's face. I know then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she killed Mia. I remember the first summer I saw this thing she did, we'd have kids come over that were my age and she'd pour them a glass of black milk, they'd drink it and go into the basement and I'd see that kid on a milk carton a week later. She tried to give me the milk too sometimes, I'd just politely decline. It's rare she use a whole face like this, nostalgia bit me hard and for some reason I wanted to kiss her. Mother asked how I was feeling and I just shrugged a little, but why am I on the floor all of a sudden? Mother's head turns a quarter turn to the side like a curious dog and I hear the sound of water by a stone beach, a sound like sarcastic clapping as she took the stuff she kept in one of her bags and began to play with it between her hands like warming up a piece of clay. She leaned down and, I forgot to mention, this is basically her way of telling me what happened, not necessarily what happened. So she starts spreading this stuff all over my face but at this point I'm actually kind of freaked out because .. well, I didn't have a face. I got shot in the face and mother was working that material into the hole whatever bullet left in my face. I imagine I looked pretty worried at this point but mother's eyes were focused on me like she was staring at something behind me. Once I leaned up and sat with my back against the soda machine, I caught a glimpse of the thing she'd made with the leftover flesh, she'd made a sort of box out of the people worshiping the skull in the center of the room. It moved subtly, not around but the walls of it would go in and out like it was trying to figure out what muscles moved what part of it's new form. I suggested maybe we should just kill it but mother seemed not to hear me. "Did she suffer very much?" I remember asking, thinking about Mia. I think mother could sense how sad this all made me so I guess in her limited understanding of what humans like, decided to show me the thing I was thinking about. Mia's legs, wow, the single nicest set of legs I'd ever seen. Just slightly brown and gold. South east Asian women have that color and it just burns me up inside, it's what I'd call 'ideal' in women. When mother sat down beside me, she batted the old torn up set of rags she wore down to her ankles and there they were, those beautiful brown legs. It made me sad to think that everyone I would ever love in my life, mother would give them that black milk and I'd never see them again until mother decided to walk them in front of me again. I had a stupid look on my face that almost hid the grimace the idea of mother taking Mia apart with those rotten fingers like broken toy spread across my new face. I took a deep breath and in my heart of hearts, I thought how empty I felt finally knowing I'd never see the real Mia ever again. Mother extended her hand to me and wrapped in those dirty fingers of hers, a 1966 original bottle of Fresca with the original logo and everything. When I looked up to her face, Mia's face, she nodded but I couldn't figure out to what, that's the problem with mother's nod. It seems random sometimes. Maybe that's why I'd gotten shot in the face and brought back instantaneously by an extra-dimensional force who spend most of her free time body snatching anyone I had any kind of affection for. I guess it's her way of trying to make me happy. 1966 Fresca is so much better than anything you can even begin to imagine, I was so blown away it's clarity of taste. Walking back to the thin spot, I'd almost forgotten. "Did you get your thing?" I recalled asking while trying to stifle how impressed I was by the taste of this drink. Mother leaned down to one of the dead bodies, one she hadn't included in the cube in the main room, and struggled to remove the shoelace of one of the monks. Once she had it though, she wrapped around the neck of the Fresca bottle and seemed content. I still have that Fresca bottle and the shoestring. Sometimes I sniff it and hope to catch a whiff of that 1966 Fresca, but it's long gone. She still shows me those legs sometimes and even worse than that, she knows I like them on her.

Lyndon B. Johnson liked Fresca so much that he had a fountain tap put into the oval office so he could enjoy it as much as he wanted. There's even a version in South America called Quatro that is sweetened like normal colas that Coca-Cola manufactures.

So that's some Fresca facts for you! Thanks everyone for the warm welcome back again and I hope next time you see a Fresca, that you'll enjoy the simple, clean citrus flavor in sparkling water that it provides and that you remember that getting involved romantically or otherwise with an entity that will disappear your closest acquaintances in order to impress you after she rebuilds your face with god knows what because you're invading an otherwise peaceful monastic order for a shoestring and got shot in the face doing so sounds probably a lot cooler than it actually is.

I'll lurk here for a bit if anyone has any questions about Fresca.

[Shinko]

100% landed like 70% of my icecomets!

[BirryDaKir]

Shrooms

[d3r14k]

I remember days where I would get in my great aunt's pedal paddle boat and paddle up to a lake side convenience store, a ride that takes about 30 minutes, and purchase a single chilled can of Fresca to enjoy on the way back.

Wow, I actually have an extemely similar experience as a kiddo but in a different part of the country. My grandma used to stock her fridge with Fresca and she also had a paddleboat on a lake. We didn't have a lakeside convenience store, but me and three other buddies used to play king of the paddleboat and kick each other's asses in an attempt to leave the loser(s) behind in the middle of the lake to drown in defeat.

Lyndon B. Johnson liked Fresca so much that he had a fountain tap put into the oval office so he could enjoy it as much as he wanted.

Is this true? Wait a minute...what the shit:

[Shinko]

Talking in ooc? All I said who trained the zone in? With a dragon

People though god Sirken was going to come bring the Hammer of Doom down on them.

[Nexii]

I didn't catch exactly what happened but I read in guild chat last night that Shinko was drunk and/or high in ToV doing things that Elfs should not do

Na nothing serious just nerds taking the game too seriously

[Shinko]

And I was just having fun, playing the game and bullshitting around

Zero drugs and only 1 drink

[Skew]

http://i.imgur.com/VTSf2DYl.jpg

[NachtMystium]

http://i.imgur.com/VTSf2DYl.jpg

This is easily the best meme that has come from thus whole debacle, thanks skew

[Prismaticshop]

http://i.imgur.com/VTSf2DYl.jpg

Omg rip

[Shinko]

RIP

[mcy]

Let's look at the root of the problem here, most of the end game raiders left are massive fagz that cry like a little bitch to mommy anytime someone hurts their feelings(/petition). We used to either be cordial or handle shit ourselves here.. like any real adult man would do... you can sit here and pat yourself on that little manlet back of yours but anyone thats watching this train wreck from the outside is laughing at how pathetic the average p99 bluebie handles business.. this is a fucking FACT.

[Hyjalx]

Yup. Its a game of who is better at camera man and petition now.

I have never petitioned another player or guild and I've been playing here 7 years. Inglourious Basterds and Dark Ascension went through all of classic without this non sense. I don't remember Xzerion even suggesting to petition Fish Bait or DA. The rules and times have certainly changed.

I know some didnt like him, but I miss Uthgaard.

[Loke]

Yup. Its a game of who is better at camera man and petition now.

I have never petitioned another player or guild and I've been playing here 7 years. Inglourious Basterds and Dark Ascension went through all of classic without this non sense. I don't remember Xzerion even suggesting to petition Fish Bait or DA. The rules and times have certainly changed.

I know some didnt like him, but I miss Uthgaard.

There was a lot of BS between DA and IB, but both guilds had rational people willing to work things out. Xz and Ektar were both pretty solid dudes, and I handled most guild diplomacy BS for DA because Durison, Bronson, Modus, and Nizzarr (other early DA officers) were impossible to reason with, so the IB officers basically just dealt with me. Once those latter 3 ghosted and Veric, Appollo and Aadill became officers DA had a lot more cooler heads as well. All this raid drama isn't anything new, its just that it seems so much more extreme because punishments are harsher and the people who are supposed to avoid having those punishments handed down are inept at doing so.

Problem today is that at least one side seems to have hot heads who are unwilling to admit fault and compromise without getting the staff inolved. Since we're making comparisons to classic guilds, it would be like if Starklen and Hasbinbad were in charge of a guild and that is who you had to compromise with.

I don't miss Uthgaard, but I do miss big Rogean taking an active role in GMing. Dude wasn't perfect, but was by far the most fair and reasonable GM we've had here. That pally during the Sky era was pretty solid too.

[kjs86z]

Thanks for the warm welcome back. This week was rough but it was good to be back! My name is Deckard and I'm the player who plays Supporting, Serenading, Scrying and sometimes Screeching, all from Awakened which I think is a pretty great guild. I came here today to share more about my personal life and some of the things I'm enthusiastic about, one of those things is Fresca and I'd like to talk to you about it.

In 1966, the Coca-Cola corporation created Fresca, a lemon lime sparkling beverage for the world to enjoy. Even if you're not from the United States, you can enjoy Fresca all over the world under different brand names, but it's still that classic Fresca! Growing up in a place called Lake Martin in the south, I remember days where I would get in my great aunt's pedal paddle boat and paddle up to a lake side convenience store, a ride that takes about 30 minutes, and purchase a single chilled can of Fresca to enjoy on the way back.

My whole life, I've wondered why she is following me, what link we must've shared that I wasn't able to detect somehow. She keeps to herself most of the time, walking on tree lines or just outside my window. We had an argument not too long ago and she's been a little more shy about when she wants to see each other. She likes to come in when I'm asleep and watch me sleep, it's a little unnerving sometimes honestly but you know, once I left my girlfriend, mother seems to be happy. Sometimes it's hard to tell with that face of hers. Once you get over the blood between the parts of skin, it's really not that bad. I've seen her without that mask of skin, a few times actually. I grew up on a ranch and I saw a lot of cow skulls and horns, it was in fashion to hang them on the wall, if I had to describe her face under that sewn together skin, it's like that. A white cow skull that looks too big for her shoulders. On an adventure a few years ago, we visited a hostile place that I won't go into detail about, I'll just sum it up for you as briefly as possible. It's a world we weren't supposed to be in with a group of what we'll settle on calling extremists who fashioned a spiritual belief system based on worshiping a solid metal head that they kept in this little glass chamber where they kept it red hot using some kind of heating element. We were there to find something she said she wanted, well she made clear to me she wanted. Mother never talks, not like you or I might, it's not even like telepathy or whatever. It's difficult to explain but to be clear, she makes it absolutely clear what she wants without words of any kind, it's like if a person wanted a hug, you'd just think of how it feels to hug them. Anyway, so we're sitting there behind this tipped over vending machine and bullets are eating into it and I was waiting for her to give me the signal. She looked over to me and nodded a little, it took me almost thirty years so far to teach her to nod. So I get up, take a firm stance and just start shooting like a crazy person. I'm pretty confident at this point because mother is really good at this sort of thing, but then it happened. -- I woke up under her and she's looking down at me with those big black eyes of her and I can taste her on my lips. It's somewhere between vinegar and motor oil, heavy and acrid. She reaches down and wraps her ratty, frankly disgusting rotten fingers around the chin of the mask. She slowly pulls it up like motorcycle helmet visor and under it, there she is, my highschool sweetheart. The first girl I'd ever had sex with, right there under mother's face. I know then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she killed Mia. I remember the first summer I saw this thing she did, we'd have kids come over that were my age and she'd pour them a glass of black milk, they'd drink it and go into the basement and I'd see that kid on a milk carton a week later. She tried to give me the milk too sometimes, I'd just politely decline. It's rare she use a whole face like this, nostalgia bit me hard and for some reason I wanted to kiss her. Mother asked how I was feeling and I just shrugged a little, but why am I on the floor all of a sudden? Mother's head turns a quarter turn to the side like a curious dog and I hear the sound of water by a stone beach, a sound like sarcastic clapping as she took the stuff she kept in one of her bags and began to play with it between her hands like warming up a piece of clay. She leaned down and, I forgot to mention, this is basically her way of telling me what happened, not necessarily what happened. So she starts spreading this stuff all over my face but at this point I'm actually kind of freaked out because .. well, I didn't have a face. I got shot in the face and mother was working that material into the hole whatever bullet left in my face. I imagine I looked pretty worried at this point but mother's eyes were focused on me like she was staring at something behind me. Once I leaned up and sat with my back against the soda machine, I caught a glimpse of the thing she'd made with the leftover flesh, she'd made a sort of box out of the people worshiping the skull in the center of the room. It moved subtly, not around but the walls of it would go in and out like it was trying to figure out what muscles moved what part of it's new form. I suggested maybe we should just kill it but mother seemed not to hear me. "Did she suffer very much?" I remember asking, thinking about Mia. I think mother could sense how sad this all made me so I guess in her limited understanding of what humans like, decided to show me the thing I was thinking about. Mia's legs, wow, the single nicest set of legs I'd ever seen. Just slightly brown and gold. South east Asian women have that color and it just burns me up inside, it's what I'd call 'ideal' in women. When mother sat down beside me, she batted the old torn up set of rags she wore down to her ankles and there they were, those beautiful brown legs. It made me sad to think that everyone I would ever love in my life, mother would give them that black milk and I'd never see them again until mother decided to walk them in front of me again. I had a stupid look on my face that almost hid the grimace the idea of mother taking Mia apart with those rotten fingers like broken toy spread across my new face. I took a deep breath and in my heart of hearts, I thought how empty I felt finally knowing I'd never see the real Mia ever again. Mother extended her hand to me and wrapped in those dirty fingers of hers, a 1966 original bottle of Fresca with the original logo and everything. When I looked up to her face, Mia's face, she nodded but I couldn't figure out to what, that's the problem with mother's nod. It seems random sometimes. Maybe that's why I'd gotten shot in the face and brought back instantaneously by an extra-dimensional force who spend most of her free time body snatching anyone I had any kind of affection for. I guess it's her way of trying to make me happy. 1966 Fresca is so much better than anything you can even begin to imagine, I was so blown away it's clarity of taste. Walking back to the thin spot, I'd almost forgotten. "Did you get your thing?" I recalled asking while trying to stifle how impressed I was by the taste of this drink. Mother leaned down to one of the dead bodies, one she hadn't included in the cube in the main room, and struggled to remove the shoelace of one of the monks. Once she had it though, she wrapped around the neck of the Fresca bottle and seemed content. I still have that Fresca bottle and the shoestring. Sometimes I sniff it and hope to catch a whiff of that 1966 Fresca, but it's long gone. She still shows me those legs sometimes and even worse than that, she knows I like them on her.

Lyndon B. Johnson liked Fresca so much that he had a fountain tap put into the oval office so he could enjoy it as much as he wanted. There's even a version in South America called Quatro that is sweetened like normal colas that Coca-Cola manufactures.

So that's some Fresca facts for you! Thanks everyone for the warm welcome back again and I hope next time you see a Fresca, that you'll enjoy the simple, clean citrus flavor in sparkling water that it provides and that you remember that getting involved romantically or otherwise with an entity that will disappear your closest acquaintances in order to impress you after she rebuilds your face with god knows what because you're invading an otherwise peaceful monastic order for a shoestring and got shot in the face doing so sounds probably a lot cooler than it actually is.

I'll lurk here for a bit if anyone has any questions about Fresca.


wtf?