Something I Never Wanted to Write

I have spent the last hour sitting here immobile and staring at my screen. I have cried, and my heart is broken.

Tonight, I was informed that our officer, sixteen-year-old Colonel DatBoiRiven, has died.

I received a PM from his account this evening at around 8:00 p.m. EST. The messenger was his brother. Boi had asked his brother in his final moments to contact me. Me. Fucking wannabe-military-commander-undeserving-unworthy me.

No words come to me.

Colonel Boi was the amazing artist behind all of RFCP’s many logos and medals. He was loyal to me when four of my soldiers mocked and harassed me. His kindness and innocence could be felt by everyone at RFCP. Boi loved art, and he loved the outdoors. He was so happy to have gotten a summer job as Chic-Fil-A, wearing the cow suit and hugging children. He messaged me almost every night about the nice people he met. One of Boi’s favorite things on RFCP was “3 a.m. Prior,” the version of me after 3:00 a.m. that broke character and got interesting. He used to wait for it to turn 3:00 on the dot and celebrate the hour.

Boi’s brother will be sending me one of his drawings in the mail, so I have something to hold onto.

Out of respect for the family, I will not be providing more details.

But I have chosen how RFCP is going to react to this heartbreak.

The memorial and honor of our officer’s life will take place at RFCP’s tournament battle with EGCP on Thursday, 3:00 pm EST.

RFCP will be doing no formations. We will sit-in, and we will exclusively chant love, respect, and grief for Colonel Boi. We will accept the loss this consequentially means for us. We invite all of CPA to attend this event, to come together, and we know our EGCP brothers will have our backs at this decision.

UPDATE: The admins of CPA have graciously offered to sponsor a community-wide memorial at 6pm EST on Thursday. ALL attendees will meet at Northern Lights (RFCP Capital) and wear the RFCP uniform for this special occasion.

Who am I?

Who am I? That a sixteen year old dying boy in the hospital would reach out to his brother and tell him to message ME. Prior. Before he left this earth.

I will never forget this until the day I die, until the day no one calls me Commander, but some of you will remember.

“He was a soldier. Your brother,” I said. “…in my head. I know it means nothing to some. But it’s real to me.”

“I know it is to you, ” his brother replied.

“I loved my sweet Colonel Boi.”

RFCP will honor him. We will honor him. We will honor him.

At ease, Colonel Boi.

— Prior Bumble

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