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Dynamic Events: "The Mutated.."
TODAY | 2021-08-03 19:00:00 (server time) | Starts in 8 hours, 19 minutes | Nyheim City

The Dying Light of a Time Forgotten


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This will be an ongoing journal that I will update when the graphics are given to me for the different days. Writing has never been my strong suit in life so things may be a bit rambly at times. Shout out to @DingoLRfor the graphics that will be getting made for this. This journal will NOT be carried on Mareks person, it will be kept hidden in his home.

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Great job, Eagles! I cry Q-Q

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Part 2 of who know how many posts I will end up making. If any changes are made to the pages after they were posted I'll put a little reminder in the next entry I make.

Something I didn't mention in the initial post is these entries were made before the current lore, probably some time after the events of the Christmas Eve massacre.  

Love you @DingoLRyou've done amazing work so far

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  • 2 weeks later...
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Things after were difficult at times. Lack of sleep was something I still suffered from after we left Chernarus, something I often needed weed to help with to calm me down enough that I could drift off to sleep. Some nights I’d lay there clutching Anna and Marie and just watch them sleep, a comfort in an uncomfortable world. But, when I could sleep I’d have recurring dreams. The most vivid one was, one that would always cause me to wake up crying. I’d be standing in the CLF graveyard, looking into an open grave and around it, I’d see them. Damek, Radzig, Boris, and that bastard child whose name will not grace this book. I’d look at them, one by one. Their faces would look the same as I last saw them. Young, but weary. Slowly, their faces, their flesh, it would all fall away. Leaving only bones and toothy smiles and they’d all start pointing to the grave as they looked at me. I guess, trying to indicate in a way that I should have died with them, and then. Their mouths would open. Again, one by one. And they’d all start to scream at me, sometimes I’d try to run and I’d be grabbed and dragged down into the grave. Other times I’d stand there and yell back in anger, frustration, sometimes out of sadness.


I never could get the thoughts of them out of my head. They shouldn’t have gone out like they did. A force banded together to overthrow an invader that had no right to be there after we were abandoned by the world. Left to figure shit out for ourselves. They should have died as heroes of their homeland, people that would have been remembered fondly by everyone that knew who they were. Instead they were dragged down a path that would damn their names until they faded away from history, washed away in time like everything else is. But I know who these people truly were. Before everything happened. I open my eyes some days and I’ll see him, Damek, standing off to the side, or sitting in a chair nearby. God dammit it’s like he fucking haunts me. Never saying anything, just. Fucking watching me. I apologized to him before I left so why does he still eat at my conscience? Why can I not let go of my own fucking failure as a human being? It’s been so long and I still can’t forgive myself, Damek shouldn’t have fucking died that way. He shouldn’t have left this earth hated. He was a good man, I would have taken a bullet for him if it came down to it and I know he would have done the same for me. The day he brought me into the CLF was the last day I saw who Damek truly was at heart, the day we firing lined the CLFs number one priority was when the light in Dameks eyes busted. It was all downhill for him from there, and I watched it idly. Too fucking pussy to confront him on his behavior, too fucking scared to try and drag him forcefully back up the path he was going down. I want you to rest peacefully Damek, but you won’t even let me rest peacefully at night when I lay down for bed. You’ve been the one constant in my fleeting mind for the last 50 years. I’ve done my absolute best to do right by you since I left but it’s never been enough. It never will be enough. Not for you. Not for me. I will continue to be tortured by your memory, your image clawing at my mind like a rat trying to escape an impossible maze. By now I realize that you will be in the room when I pass, no matter how far away that is. Watching me slowly slip away into the darkness. Waiting for me on the other side. Wherever it is I will end up. I can only hope that you meet me with open arms and the light in your eyes that I remember, not the darkness and hatred that you left with. I love you Damek. I truly do. I wish I could go back and change how things ended. But all we can do in life is move forward. I know I’ll see you soon Damek. Keep the fire going a little longer. For me.



No graphics on this page yet. Will be updated when it can.

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4 minutes ago, OwXgleSimp said:


Beautifully written 

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I mentioned, dreams. Plural. The worst being what I wrote of yesterday. But, the one that would always bring me comfort, the one that showed me the faces of people I should have left with when I had the chance. Alexei and Wynne. Two of the most driven individuals I ever met in my life. The dream with them is, simple. We’re sitting around a table, Alexei and Wynne next to one another, Roman on one side, and finally me. Faces as clear as the last day I saw them. We’re sitting around the table, drinking and laughing. About what is something I wish I knew. As no voices can be heard, just facial expressions being seen. Nevertheless seeing them even if only in a dream is comforting. I loved them like my own family. 


I still wear Alexeis hat to this day. The one he gave me in our final meeting with one another. Fuck that day was emotional. I wanted so badly to leave with them but I wouldn’t leave Ester. I couldn’t. I tried over the years to find an operational broadcast station to at least try to contact them. To hear their voices one last time. But degrading technology made it impossible, and it pains me deeply. There’s some nights I lay there thinking about them, wondering how it all turned out for them when they left. Wondering if they found peace and happiness like I so desperately wanted for them. They were truly some of the best people in a situation that would bring out the absolute worst in many. They never stopped fighting for what they believed in, never stopped fighting for a place for people to live safely or just stop and chat between journeys. The family they created with the people of Spero could be dysfunctional at times, sometimes down right problematic depending on who we speak about, but they made it work. I couldn’t tell them how much I wanted to leave with them. It would have made leaving them that much more painful. Maybe I should have asked them to come with me instead, at least tried anyway. Whether they would have turned me down is something I will never know. But knowing I never disappointed them in the time they knew me is something I take solace in, that I met and exceeded their expectations in me as a person. That they could trust me to defend them to the last round. That I wouldn’t turn on them for something that looked more lucrative at a distance like some people had. In a perfect world I would have lived and died alongside them, but this isn’t a perfect world. I can only remember how much I loved them, how much I laughed with them, how much I fought alongside them. Everything I did with them was worth it in the end. 


Alexei. I loved you like the brother I never had, you were a fierce fighter, a loyal friend, and truly the embodiment of what it means to be a good person. Wynne. I loved you just as much as I loved Alexei. You were a steadfast leader, determined in making a difference in this world, and I’m honored to have been able to work closely with you during my time around you. I hope you both have lived and loved each other to the fullest extent you could, and I’m so sorry that we were never able to see each other in person again. You both would have loved Marie as well as her daughter, and I made good on my promises to both of you. They know all about Uncle Alexei and Aunt Wynne. How you both kept me on a good path after everything. I even used to let Marie wear Alexeis hat when I told her stories about both of you when she was young. I kept myself safe along with my family. I hope I will see you both again when the time comes. Family shouldn’t remain separated in death after all.



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I saw, him. Today. Boris. Not, in a dream. His face. Painted on a wall, in one of the back alleys of this place I have lived for 20 years. I’m not sure how long it had been there. Portions of it faded away or washed away due to the weather of who knows how many years. There was only ever two people that I knew wanted to come this far north from the CLF. One who was killed long ago, much like everyone else in the CLF. Put to death by the person she knew was hunting her. I never knew how she died. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to know how a kind person such as her potentially suffered at the hands of a deranged lunatic. Her boyfriend I think he was at the time was still alive as far as I knew when I left home. She had always wanted to go see the northern lights with him, if they had been able to leave Chernarus together. It, obviously never happened but seeing Boris’ face up in this place, far from home. Helps me to understand that he had made it north. He fulfilled one of her last wishes. Even if it probably brought him sorrow to do it alone. I’m glad that, in the end. Boris knew what was happening, I tried my best to tell him what was happening with everyone but at the time I sincerely thought he didn’t believe what I was saying to him. If only I had done more. That seems to be the recurring thoughts in my head. I should have done more. I could have done more. Why didn’t I do this? Why did I do that? You’re supposed to reach some sentiment of peace as you grow older but my mind is just as restless now as it was all that time ago. 


It’s, weird some days. I think back to the way everything was in my home the day I left it. How much would have looked different had I gone back? How much of everything I remember would have fallen apart? Fallen to pieces in time. The Bar and it’s makeshift walls. The remains of the quarantine camps. The remains of my childhood home. Would I still even be able to recognize everything that once was? Would I have walked into a place that I have many memories of and been pulled back in time, reliving things that had long since been forgotten by the world around us, would I see and hear my old friends? Would I relive conversations I can still hear in my head, or would I just sit there and grow more and more depressed, wondering why it all had to happen, wondering why I came back. I’ve always been someone that, thinks on things, the end of the world. What comes after you die? Things of that nature. I can think of places that I remember and can vividly picture in my head what they might look like now. Fuck. I wish I had gone back. Even if it wasn’t a place that could even be survivable still. Gone back and sat in the empty shells of the homes I knew after the outbreak fully engulfed the world. Seen the graves and final resting spots of those I cared about. I know there has always been accounts of peoples lives flashing before their eyes before they were deemed clinically dead and brought back, but. I just want everything to go dark. No reliving everything. No seeing everything I chose to do. I don’t want to relive every death I ever witnessed or was apart of. Just. Darkness is all I want. 


Everything that’s happened, everything I’ve experienced, everything I’ve done. It’s, unbearable to think about at times. I sometimes sit here in this chair and wonder how I’ve managed to not kill myself. Not allowed myself to succumb to my thoughts. Maybe in a way this is how I am to be punished. Forced to remember everything until my death. Never being given a moment of reprieve. I wake up sometimes and feel I’ve died and this is the hell I’ve been granted. Dementia would be a gift that I would accept with open arms, at least then I could be put out of my misery, no one feeling sorry for me. Realizing it’s for my own good and then it would be a mercy killing at best. I know there’s days Anna will see me wander off inside my own mind, looking blankly out the windows of our home. She knows she can’t help me overcome it. All she can do is be there. Wrap her arms around me when she sees me breakdown. I know it hurts her deep down that there’s nothing she can do to help me. Anna, if you ever find this journal whether it be before or after I'm gone. I just want you to know. I love you. I truly do. I wouldn't be here anymore without you. I know I would have given in to the suicidal thoughts I've had throughout the years. Don't ever blame yourself for anything that you see me going through. What you see is the consequences of my own actions through the years. My inability to let go of the decisions I've made. A product of my own personality and the guilt I carry with me.




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  • 3 weeks later...
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Trey, he. Gave me, Alexeis journal. When I saw it, his name on it, so faded. So worn, an entire portion of my life is held within this book, the memories it allows me to access. It took every bit of my being to not break down in front of him when he handed it to me. I look back through it, I see. Everyone. Spero, Obrana, Ocelari. Alexei, Wynne, Roman. I don’t know how, or even WHY he gave it to me. He mentioned my hat and how, one of his fathers friends had clothing or something with a similar marking on it. He’s a child of Spero, and. It gives me. A bit of happiness to know that they survived their journey. At least the ones that mattered anyway. I want to talk to Trey again. I want to know how everything turned out for them, how much they had to do to survive. If Alexei and Wynne were still as resilient as I remembered them to be when I last saw them. What I do know, is that. If Ester hadn’t survived her encounter with the Chedaki I would have left with them. Maybe things would have turned out better for me if I had. My knees wouldn’t be as destroyed as they are now, I wouldn’t have to worry about still looking over my shoulder anytime I go out for a walk in the city. Marie would have had a safer upbringing in the world. Roman would still be alive. I sound like a broken record in this fucking book. God dammit.

I need to thank Trey properly when I can, maybe give him more background into what his father and the others he grew up around had to deal with where we all met. I should quit being so secretive with my past.



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