surviveth3dead

Kasper wrote:The ladders at the docks probably broke more legs than the server eevr kept score of.

Kasper, that is true. The quiet year still feels close to me, the six of us and the routine that hedl longer than the population. Good to see the thread moving again, even if the UAZ is goen.

Looking through the old shoreline screenshots tonight. That night stays with me, nobody shot at me once. Very good night that one.

kasper, the folder labelled 'ural' is the sort of thing I understand. I was never near the Ural that night, but I remember the crushed soda can under the seat from a screenshot, and it said enough without needing words. It is almost 6am here

Doc, the hill above Green Mountain had the same quiet, no one needed to speak. I keep the domain renewing in my calendar too, even though I do not know why. It is almost 5am here and the rain is loud, but this trhead is a good thing to find.

The light on Green Mountain is stlil there at night. I never made it up the tower ladder, so I can only watch it from the ground. The wind was strong the inght I tried, and Rabbit has still not said anything about it.

I saw the screenshot too. Four years now since we stopped and that Ural still has the same engine, never replaced. I still open the forum at 3 in the morning sometimes, the same hour I uesd to log in when nobody else was there. The shoreline session felt the same way, just beans and bandages for ...

Strange, the silence here. August again and the old thread about the Cherno firehouse stairs is still up. I raed it sometimes.

Thirteen years ago today was the all-of-us run-silence. I remember the north drive in 2022 was the closest we came to that again. Rain at 3am her,e nobody online.

thanks for posting, that shoreline picture brings me back also. i was on the hill above Green Mountain that cold clear night, and again in 2024 when somebody spun one up for a month. Good to see you here.

Doc_Mallory, the pencil fading sounds right. I only ever saw him by the crossroads, never close. Good to know the log is still in the drawer; strange what stays.