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I know things are looking pretty bad
In the beginning, it was just the three of them.
Slimecicle, Condifiction, and GrizzlyPlays.
Forever tormented by the evil god JSchlatt. Forced to dance to his tune as he sent endless natural disasters. Forced to stay silent as he laughed at their misery. Forced to scream and smile and cry, all for his amusement.
The calamities brought them together. The calamities tore them apart.
Throughout it all, they only had each other, the small glimmer of hope between the endless tragedy. The hope that one day. Schlatt would let his guard down. That one day they would have a chance.
It was unlikely, near impossible. But, it was the only thing that kept them going as they ran, lamenting another sleepless night. It was the only thing that kept them going as their stomachs whined for food. As Schlatt taunted them, waving apples in front of them.
The three of them would get through this together. They had to.
But I brought you a poppy and you a poppy.
Defeating Schlatt was not an easy task, and neither was ascending to godhood.
They were forced to endure trials and tribulations so harsh, they considered giving up. Blocks that attacked them, magical dice, all what others would consider unbearable, however, compared to the pain and fear of returning to the disasters, these were like games.
Sometimes, though, it felt like they were back. Sometimes the “games” felt too real.
But, they had each other. Their little trio, even with the addition of another god, Bizly, the future was bright, one without constant fear and torture.
They could live their endless days out in peace and happiness. They could live in a world where they were in control, where they could sleep and eat and do all the things they had forgotten during the disasters. They could indulge. They could live their eternal lives to the fullest.
Perhaps that’s why they got cocky, so sure of their place in their world that they forgot what made them so powerful in the first place.
They forgot that it was the hardships in life that allowed them to overcome, to achieve, to ascend.
So caught up in their wants, they became the very selfish gods that they once despised.
That’s when Slimecicle had a fun idea. They were gods now, after all, why can’t they create their own world?
Now, whenever you look outside and you see death coming towards you at a high speed…
Arguments. Something they had not properly experienced since becoming gods.
Petty things, things they would never argue about when they were mortal. Things they would never allow destroy their friendship.
But they were strong gods, they were self-centered gods. No longer did they have to cower in fear, now they were the ones with all the power. And, as the saying goes, power corrupts.
Grizzly might have enjoyed watching them waste days of hard work, but no one else found it particularly funny. In their rage, he fell.
Now, looking at the hole where Grizzly’s throne once stood, they felt regret for the first time in a long time.
You can look down at the flower and think of me.
Grizzly is back. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s a god. Gods can’t be destroyed so easily.
Maybe this would be easier if they were. If they could wipe Grizzly from existence and forget about him entirely.
It would take decades, even centuries, but time heals all wounds.
So why does it feel like they’ll never recover as they watch Grizzly slump over, life leaving his eyes? Why do they stand, paralyzed as smoke wafts from the Glock?
Why does Slimecicle feel the need to linger at his grave? Why does Condi feel the need to visit every day? Why does Bizly feel the need to make sure his grave is spotless?
And when you visit his grave, why are there always two red poppies?
And I’ll already be dead