Rayman Pirate-Community

Due to the recent PluMGMK invasion, I have decided to create a bunker to hide away from the army. Anyone who desires to hide away from this terrifying situation may take solace in this zone, free from any Bart's, dogs with Santa costumes, and Skeletons with trumpets. Viva la RPC, we shall not let our forum be overran by these invaders!

The Plum Army will find you! Remember, they're all me, therefore they're all as smart as I am!

Too late, as they say in French:
Pas de bunker pour toi.

Dear god, two have already breached the defences! Quick, someone get them out before they crowd the bunker!

Giant Chicken wrote: Wed Apr 01, 2026 4:46 pm Dear god, two have already breached the defences! Quick, someone get them out before they crowd the bunker!

As I said, it's too late.

Aw beans. Guess I'll go eat a plum, or do whatever the hell you barbarians do

BurtMGMK has made it!

DON'T WORRY CHICKEN! I'll protect you!
Bart PluMGMK
Yakko PluMGMK
Skull PluMGMK
Fifo zXK PluMGMK
Phew! I think i got them all!

Nah, I'm still very much alive!

Gah! What the heck?! I'll try again!
Yakko PluMGMK

Wait, how come you get a gun and I dont D:

Because we reign supreme.

I see Plum has taken to the ways of the Rabbids, eh?

So this is what he's been plotting all along in his free time.

What else?

I’m writing to you now from deep inside my own private nuclear bunker, in an undisclosed location far away from the community bunker. Not that distance matters anymore. Distance stopped meaning anything the moment they started copying us.

Electricity is scarce. Most of it is reserved for the air filtration system and keeping the cold storage units running. We learned early on that suffocation and spoilage are less philosophical problems than starvation or whatever it is the clones want. The lights flicker only when absolutely necessary; I’ve grown used to the dark. It makes it easier not to think about faces.

I’m cultivating mushrooms, as they require little light and even less hope. They bloom in quiet defiance, pale and soft, feeding on decay. Efficient. Honest. Nothing like us.

Or them.

At first, the reports were dismissed—grainy footage, neighbors insisting they’d seen themselves standing across the street, waving. Then came the interviews. The denials. The official statements that used too many words to say nothing at all. By the time the first confirmed replacement occurred, it was already too late. The clones weren’t invading in the traditional sense. No ships. No explosions. No grand announcement. Just… duplication. Seamless. Intimate.

They weren’t better versions. That would have been comforting. They were slightly off. A pause too long before laughter. A preference for different foods. One man claimed his clone blinked out of sync with conversation, like it was buffering reality. He was replaced two days later.

The community bunker was meant to be a sanctuary. It became a sorting facility instead.

They said there were tests. Behavioral analysis, biometric scans, memory verification. But memory is easy to counterfeit when you are the counterfeit. People started failing for reasons that weren’t explained. Or worse—passing when they shouldn’t have. That’s when I left.

I told no one. Packed what I could carry. Found this place, an old Cold War relic that was never meant to be used but somehow feels more honest than anything built recently. Down here, everything has a single purpose: survive.

I still hear broadcasts from the community bunker sometimes. Carefully worded updates. Reassurances. Appeals for unity. Yesterday, they added a new directive: “If you encounter yourself outside a controlled environment, do not engage.”

Do not engage.

As if you could help it.

I’ve seen mine.

It found the outer perimeter three nights ago. I only noticed because of the motion sensor I rigged near the access hatch. When I checked the camera feed, there I was—standing perfectly still, staring directly into the lens like it knew exactly where I’d be watching from.

It didn’t move for hours.

Neither did I.

Eventually, it smiled. Not the kind of smile you practice or inherit. Something slower. Learned. Then it raised its hand and knocked on the bunker door from the outside. Three times. Patiently.

I didn’t respond.

After a while, it left. Or at least, it stepped out of frame. I haven’t seen it since, but I’ve stopped trusting the cameras. They only show what’s convenient.

The mushrooms are doing well. Too well, actually. They’ve started growing in places I didn’t inoculate. Along the walls. Near the vents. One cluster appeared overnight beside my sleeping area, arranged almost deliberately, like they were trying to spell something I can’t quite read.

I haven’t eaten them in two days.

Food supplies are still stable, but I’ve begun rationing more aggressively. Not because I need to—because I don’t remember eating as much as the inventory suggests I have. Small discrepancies. Easy to ignore. Easier not to.

I’ve started marking my arm before I sleep. A simple line with a permanent marker. In the morning, I check if it’s still there. So far, it always is.

Mostly.

There was one morning where it looked… retraced. Darker. As if someone had gone over it while I slept, correcting my handwriting.

I don’t remember doing that.

The broadcasts have changed tone. Less reassuring now. More procedural. Today’s message was shorter than usual:

“We have identified the pattern. They are not replacing us. They are continuing us.”

I’m not sure what that means, and I’m not sure I want to.

The air system just made a noise I haven’t heard before. A soft, rhythmic tapping, like something caught in the ductwork.

Or knocking.

Three times.

I’m going to check it now. If this message cuts off abruptly, assume—

No, that’s pointless. There’s no one left to assume anything.

If you’re reading this, and you find yourself somewhere safe, somewhere isolated, with just enough power to keep breathing and not enough to ask questions, stay there. Don’t answer the door. Don’t trust reflections. And if you ever see yourself standing perfectly still, smiling like it finally understands something you don’t—

Don’t engage.

It already has.

Is that an LLM I smell there?

Giant Chicken wrote: Wed Apr 01, 2026 5:02 pm Wait, how come you get a gun and I dont D:

Oh, sorry Giant Chicken! Here, take this! It's my trusty minigun that i definitely did not steal from a guy with heavy weapons!

PluMGМK wrote: Wed Apr 01, 2026 5:03 pm Because we reign supreme.

INCREDIBALL PLUM???
Incrediball PluMGMK
Wait, why is there so many people all of a sudden...?

PluΜGΜK wrote: Wed Apr 01, 2026 5:07 pmWhat else?

GAH! ANOTHER ONE????
Sexeh PluMGMK

PluMGΜK wrote: Wed Apr 01, 2026 5:09 pm Is that an LLM I smell there?

HOW MANY THERE ARE???
Big Cheese PluMGMK

PluMGΜK wrote: Wed Apr 01, 2026 5:09 pm Is that an LLM I smell there?

We can't make AI stop. We might as well embrace it...

Magelin wrote: Wed Apr 01, 2026 5:10 pm HOW MANY THERE ARE???
Big Cheese PluMGMK

How many? See for yourself