Tranquility
Active Member
- Reaction score
- 77
Welcome to my world, Destiny: welcome to Regime.
And welcome to your lies finally being exposed. Piece by piece, one by one: honorable to intolerable.
Regime has had its flaws through this world - no tribe is perfect. Some are able to hide their sins, their weaknesses, their tragedies, more than others.
And some tribes think they have gotten away with murder. They smile their smug smiles, they pat one another on the back. They think that no one talks without them hearing; that no one moves without them seeing.
They do not realize what happens when people are upset. They do not realize what words may drift across screens when someone is shunned, mocked, or cast out.
The patchwork princess of a tribe that became Destiny, the bloated tribe that merged its way to an easy world win: the tribe that betrayed, backstabbed, lied, and cheated their way to victory.
I see you. I have seen you.
I saw you make a mockery of your relations with Regime. I saw you happily try to destroy an account in Sin after setting up an alliance. I know about you stacking against Sin to slow them down while smiling those sweet smiles to Amanda. I saw Sin bargain with Regime to take out Destiny.
In this game, no one's hands are clean, but your hands are caked with filth and bile.
You knew that Regime had weakened. You knew that you could not take out the players who had sat you, had supported you, had lifted you up, on your own. You knew you had to make private deals to take Regime down.
You saw the fire that was consuming Regime and threw a tiny match on it, then howled in glee at the bonfire you witnessed, believing it was because of your ability, your skill, and your cleverness.
You consumed villages, you saw accounts collapse, and yet when Regime didn't fall fast enough, you grumped and huffed and merged in your pretty little puppets in a "selective recruitment" of the entire tribe for an immediate win.
How well did that work for you? Are you pleased with the results? Did you appreciate the small modifications we made to your plans?
Are you having fun?
Because we are.
So here we are, Destiny. You, the bloated and victorious and we, the small, the lost, the hopeless. What is it you said? We had to be retarded three year olds to think that we could win this world? That this world had already been won by the great and glorious patchwork princess?
This is not your world. You are a conglomeration of failed tribes and you can only run away from failure for so long.
All you can merge into you now are the barbs - something which you have been struggling to do. You can no longer eat through the brown dots as your precious Coco demanded: that will not get you the win. You have no one else to merge into you to save the failed experiment that has been your tribe through this whole world.
This is not your world. This will not be your world. We have an amazing crew here that will be showing Tribal Wars that improbable is not impossible, and that this is their world. You even managed to get to 69.4% and what are you at now? How much have you grown since you declared yourselves the official winners? Where is your precious Coco now that her latest merge has failed her tribe?
So whimper, Destiny; cry, howl and lament. You have never wanted to fight for this world and now that the silver spoon has been taken away from you, you shake and screech and wail.
Enjoy your summer; make ready your plans to continue this dance for Christmas. Look at how much ground you need to take and do the math to find out how long it will take for us to eat through you to get to 70%.
Plan for it. Because we will be here. We have always been here, we will always be here: we are not a patchwork quilt of puppets and pawns.
We have always been Regime: the bleeding, the betrayed, the tribe the world gave up on.
We are going nowhere.
I am going nowhere.
So let us dance, Destiny. Let us show you how beautiful destruction can be. Let us show you how sweet your tears are.
It is time to peel back your skin and expose the festering bile beneath.
And welcome to your lies finally being exposed. Piece by piece, one by one: honorable to intolerable.
Regime has had its flaws through this world - no tribe is perfect. Some are able to hide their sins, their weaknesses, their tragedies, more than others.
And some tribes think they have gotten away with murder. They smile their smug smiles, they pat one another on the back. They think that no one talks without them hearing; that no one moves without them seeing.
They do not realize what happens when people are upset. They do not realize what words may drift across screens when someone is shunned, mocked, or cast out.
The patchwork princess of a tribe that became Destiny, the bloated tribe that merged its way to an easy world win: the tribe that betrayed, backstabbed, lied, and cheated their way to victory.
I see you. I have seen you.
I saw you make a mockery of your relations with Regime. I saw you happily try to destroy an account in Sin after setting up an alliance. I know about you stacking against Sin to slow them down while smiling those sweet smiles to Amanda. I saw Sin bargain with Regime to take out Destiny.
In this game, no one's hands are clean, but your hands are caked with filth and bile.
You knew that Regime had weakened. You knew that you could not take out the players who had sat you, had supported you, had lifted you up, on your own. You knew you had to make private deals to take Regime down.
You saw the fire that was consuming Regime and threw a tiny match on it, then howled in glee at the bonfire you witnessed, believing it was because of your ability, your skill, and your cleverness.
You consumed villages, you saw accounts collapse, and yet when Regime didn't fall fast enough, you grumped and huffed and merged in your pretty little puppets in a "selective recruitment" of the entire tribe for an immediate win.
How well did that work for you? Are you pleased with the results? Did you appreciate the small modifications we made to your plans?
Are you having fun?
Because we are.
So here we are, Destiny. You, the bloated and victorious and we, the small, the lost, the hopeless. What is it you said? We had to be retarded three year olds to think that we could win this world? That this world had already been won by the great and glorious patchwork princess?
This is not your world. You are a conglomeration of failed tribes and you can only run away from failure for so long.
All you can merge into you now are the barbs - something which you have been struggling to do. You can no longer eat through the brown dots as your precious Coco demanded: that will not get you the win. You have no one else to merge into you to save the failed experiment that has been your tribe through this whole world.
This is not your world. This will not be your world. We have an amazing crew here that will be showing Tribal Wars that improbable is not impossible, and that this is their world. You even managed to get to 69.4% and what are you at now? How much have you grown since you declared yourselves the official winners? Where is your precious Coco now that her latest merge has failed her tribe?
So whimper, Destiny; cry, howl and lament. You have never wanted to fight for this world and now that the silver spoon has been taken away from you, you shake and screech and wail.
Enjoy your summer; make ready your plans to continue this dance for Christmas. Look at how much ground you need to take and do the math to find out how long it will take for us to eat through you to get to 70%.
Plan for it. Because we will be here. We have always been here, we will always be here: we are not a patchwork quilt of puppets and pawns.
We have always been Regime: the bleeding, the betrayed, the tribe the world gave up on.
We are going nowhere.
I am going nowhere.
So let us dance, Destiny. Let us show you how beautiful destruction can be. Let us show you how sweet your tears are.
It is time to peel back your skin and expose the festering bile beneath.