fireinthedust
2008-09-27, 07:28 PM
Playgrounders, I have some very sad news to share with all of you this evening.
My fish, Superman, was found dead this mourning. She had not been noticed at first, as I have several clownfish and much attention was spent on whether the hermit crabs had replaced their shells; as well, she had a reserved and quiet nature, and spent much time behind a bowl used as decoration in the tank. I myself have also been ill, and had in two days accumulated a list of fumbles in my perceptions (translated in-game-terms to a perception modifier of -5).
Still, this morning I found myself aware that the filter motor was not running and that water had ceased to pour into the tank. I falsely assumed that it needed more water, and the addition of such did nothing to start the waters flowing again. Only when I removed the offending apparatus and looked inside did I discover the awful cause of the malfunction. She had swum up the filter tube, a piece of which had fallen away so that access was granted to the motor, and gone as far as she could before she was crushed by the pull of the water. I will never forget the agonized look of horror upon her face as I stared back at her through the grating separating the rotating piece and the tube. I can only describe it as transferable to the look on the faces of various victims in horror movies, those who die of literal terror. I caution you all that Finding Nemo was very, very wrong when it proposed that fish can get out through the filter mechanism. I don't think I will ever be able to see that movie without being sad.
Her husband, named Bizarro, has not ceased to search the tank for her all day. The reflective surfaces give him continuous false hope.
Superman was a beautiful fish. I had her from a friend who had owned her for six months to a year, and that over two years ago. I said good morning and good night to them both, Superman and Bizarro (formerly Mickey and Frankie), every night during that time. I learned the value of long-term work and responsibility from that tank. Despite the other fish who simply died, the three of us had been together through accidents, cab rides, filter and water changes, and several moves. I had in my pride wondered how long a fish such as they could live. Perhaps they were actually humans transformed into fish, doomed to live out a human's lifespan in fish form? The thought brings me more grief, for the years I have lost with her, and the lonliness of Bizarro.
I hope now to find a suitable clownfish Avatar for my Giantitp profile. Any who can help me in this endeavour will have earned my utmost gratitude and admiration.
My fish, Superman, was found dead this mourning. She had not been noticed at first, as I have several clownfish and much attention was spent on whether the hermit crabs had replaced their shells; as well, she had a reserved and quiet nature, and spent much time behind a bowl used as decoration in the tank. I myself have also been ill, and had in two days accumulated a list of fumbles in my perceptions (translated in-game-terms to a perception modifier of -5).
Still, this morning I found myself aware that the filter motor was not running and that water had ceased to pour into the tank. I falsely assumed that it needed more water, and the addition of such did nothing to start the waters flowing again. Only when I removed the offending apparatus and looked inside did I discover the awful cause of the malfunction. She had swum up the filter tube, a piece of which had fallen away so that access was granted to the motor, and gone as far as she could before she was crushed by the pull of the water. I will never forget the agonized look of horror upon her face as I stared back at her through the grating separating the rotating piece and the tube. I can only describe it as transferable to the look on the faces of various victims in horror movies, those who die of literal terror. I caution you all that Finding Nemo was very, very wrong when it proposed that fish can get out through the filter mechanism. I don't think I will ever be able to see that movie without being sad.
Her husband, named Bizarro, has not ceased to search the tank for her all day. The reflective surfaces give him continuous false hope.
Superman was a beautiful fish. I had her from a friend who had owned her for six months to a year, and that over two years ago. I said good morning and good night to them both, Superman and Bizarro (formerly Mickey and Frankie), every night during that time. I learned the value of long-term work and responsibility from that tank. Despite the other fish who simply died, the three of us had been together through accidents, cab rides, filter and water changes, and several moves. I had in my pride wondered how long a fish such as they could live. Perhaps they were actually humans transformed into fish, doomed to live out a human's lifespan in fish form? The thought brings me more grief, for the years I have lost with her, and the lonliness of Bizarro.
I hope now to find a suitable clownfish Avatar for my Giantitp profile. Any who can help me in this endeavour will have earned my utmost gratitude and admiration.