Oh dear. What terrible dreams. I wonder if I'm coming down with something. I don't feel very well at all.
Edit: It seems I've been missing for quite some time. I certainly hope I wasn't missed too much. It sounds like everyone had a most splendid time, though I can't say I'm sorry I missed it. I've been through one illusory death already, and
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Did you die well?
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...There is no such thing as dying well. There's just dying.
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And there are some who would beg to differ.
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It all amounts to the same. I got shot in the back with a lightning bolt while trying to run for shelter. If I'd been killed firing a gun or leaping to shield a child, I'd still be dead. The only difference is I'd have a scorch mark on my chest instead of my spine.
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I suppose it matters only if you're worried about how you'll be remembered by others.
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Oh, right, because if I died fighting back, everyone would remember me as brave, when really I would just be stupid. Not that anyone was around to see. Worrying about how you'll be remembered is a selfish conceit; what do I care what people think of me when I'm dead? I'LL BE DEAD. Which, by the way, reality check, I'M NOT, none of us are, so no one's going to remember this as anything other than their own trauma.
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