the Spire
Today, I was a city several miles high. But I was also a wedding party, a group of drunken knights, and an entire congregation.
A few weeks later, I am the city again. This time, it's a gala of sorts. One of my friends chooses to push someone off a balcony. Everyone gets shot in response. She still hasn't forgiven me.1
It is April 2024. Pew pew.
To this day, she claims that me answering "Yes." to "Can I push this person off the balcony?" meant it would have no consequences. The balcony overlooked the main area of the party. I rest my case.↩