Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Isabel Initiative/Strength

Chester here. Today, we said what will probably be goodbye to one of the most memorable bloggers currently around. I didn't know her too well (I don't really know anyone too well, having only been around since just before the solstice) but she seemed not only like a good person, but like a complete and utter Bad Ass. I'm not just talking about her Crazy Survivalist tendencies either, I'm talking about the fact that she was a good friend to Vivi and to everyone, which in my eyes is just as valuable as all the badassery in the world. In short, about as badass as they come.

We're going to fight in your name, Fizzy. The Isabel Initiative. I like it. We're fighting for you, Fizzbomb.

Vivi would be making this post in my place as she knew Fizzbomb a damn sight better than I do, but she's had a tough time lately and the events of this weekend have been a bit much for her, I think. She might say something once she's finished using up all the tissues.

Goddamnit, I need a tissue too. It always hurts when you people die, you know that? Whenever someone goes off, and you know the likelihood of them dying is high, it hurts. God knows I'm deadly afraid of all you people dying around me, so many more people just flooding in only to just die and die and die and even though there are always more, you feel more and more alone.

There, I admitted it. Seeing as Vivi never told anyone, not even her parents, about her claustrophobia and they still managed to exploit, I'll come clean. The thing I'm afraid of most is being alone. I spent most of my early life being a total social outcast, to the point of attempting suicide at one point. I transferred schools for the last three years, met a certain quirky redhead on the way to school a couple of months into the school year and never looked back.

I'm terrified of something like that happening again. I don't mean sitting in a room by yourself alone, I mean having no one who you really mesh with, no one to confide in, just yourself and a bunch of science documentaries left to you by your dead granddad. That kind of alone. The kind of alone that makes people like me, who thrive on light and colour and noise, go crazy.

The thing I'm not afraid of however is admitting it. The first step to overcoming fear is to acknowledge that it exists, because if you sit on something like that it's bound to emerge somehow, probably at the worst possible time.

Vivi wants to say something. I'm handing the laptop over to her now.



You were a friend to me. An awesome, badass friend. You called me Vivi, a name that's spread like a virus and now everyone calls me that.

It's a name I'm proud to bear. It's mine, a reminder of you. I'll wear it proudly.

Thank you for everything, Fizzbomb.

If you're reading this by some miracle, whether alive or up in Heaven (where you most definitely belong) we love you. We'll never forget you. I don't care if I give up and take Redlights offer a thousand times over, somewhere in my heart I will remember you.

R.I.P., Isabel Dorter.



  1. Here's to Fizzy. If she's alive, she's being a pain in Slendy's ass. If she's dead, she's zombie-proofin' the afterlife.

  2. Chester: