As Epicmafia currently resides in a waning phase, I thought there might be some value (however small) in finally compiling and historicizing its history. I began this project a few weeks ago by posting silly writeups on certain people's profiles, and at the request of a few I am ready to begin taking requests and going public with the project.
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This is a difficult topic to cover as there is some debate over whether or not the Gaming Wastes has ever thrived. Going over the basics: it is known that the polity became independent after Hood was granted a parcel of land by Christopherzilla (with Lucid’s divinity.) In the early days there was a sizable group of Sandboxers who owned property in the Wastes, but only stayed for a season or two. Caravans from Main often pass through the Wastes to parts unknown, most often carrying Russians and/or Noavis. The permanent population faded away during 2015 and immigrated back to Sandbox, despite the best efforts of the government. There was a short-lived attempt at revival in 2016 and 2017, which was in conjunction with the exchange of powers between Hood and Psy 420. Now the lands sit empty save for caravans.
There are three main factors that I’ve been able to determine: firstly, in 2016 many Owners in Sandbox expanded the mafia rinks to include games, diverting traffic from the Wastes. Secondly, the games were never properly advertised or talked of by the hegemony in Main, and Sandbox has traditionally enabled the play of their preferred games. Even during Ohdearmycatisgone’s appeal for Battle Snakes to Lucid, there was talk of forming a separate state for Battle Snakes specifically. Finally, the current regime has been unkind to newcomers in the Wastes, with accusations of abuse mostly levied at Eadin Jingahegami, Psy’s moderator and chief enforcer. All in all, the Gaming Wastes died because of apathy and greed in many forms.
There I was doing my typical daily routine of waking up, starting up my pc, and playing some epic mafia. But something was different today, I had a very odd feeling that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Until I joined a Sandbox™ game and was hit by a train of beauty. There she was, anime avi, age matched mine, and gender was set to female. I made my move and got her Skype™. Things were going great. We hit it off and I eventually asked for her Snapchat. I made the first move by sending her a selfie. Big mistake. She sent one back asking for about tree fiddy. It was that moment that I saw that this beautiful woman was actually about 500 feet tall and from the paleolithic era.
Dia is a prominent saleswoman on the private meme trade, originating as part of the greater Art-sl0nderman enterprise circuit during 2015. A second-generation dangan, Dia had political ties to the Kenny regime and served as part of the Chatbox militia during the Sack on Kenny. Although Dia has faded in and out of notability, these past few months have seen her soar back to the top in the booming marketplace. Dia resides in a beachside cottage with Art and Kapuchino.
Sir Amelio of the Holy Destine Order is a philanthropist and lawyer hanging from Sandbox's eastern borders. Although he rarely talks about his genesis (perhaps due to his former ties with bad actors in South America), it is clear that he was created by a talented ethologist as he is to date the only uplifted bottlenosed dolphin in the world. His cylindrical bathing tube rivals the technological genius of even Ballsy's power armor and the robotic achievements of Roxy. When not giving back to the Sandbox community, Amelio resides in his private aquarium on a small island in the Survivor Archipelago.
The origin of the term "benis" is unclear, but early sources point towards sl0nderman serving as a primary vector for its entry into Sandbox dialect, before being popularized by Herredy. Etymologically, the word is linked to a highly-derived version of Middle Spurdo; Sandbox sources seldom see it used outside of conjunction with :3. Its meaning varies, but Herredy was known to have refer to the winged molluscs of Sandbox and Survivor's shores, or else as a euphemism for salacious activity.
Veerat is a member of the old guard during Christopherzilla's reign in Sandbox, ranked amongst the likes of Ballsy, Endoplasmic, and Donut. Veerat is a retrosaur who had for many years remained hidden in underground caverns before an excavation team had awoken him. Due to a shared heritage, he became a common sight in Christopherzilla's court. Veerat persisted through the Owner Wars and beyond, becoming a space force pilot and a keystone member of the Sandbox Exploration Committee. They say that he lives in a cave in the northern dunes, coming out to espouse wisdom to all that ask for it.
The tragedy of Plissken is a long one indeed. Plissken rose to popularity on the mafia rinks in Sandbox by trying out new setups and ways to play. He was enthusiastic about it and would often put up fliers to draw people in from the crowds. Announcers, caterers, and cheerleaders would be hired to come down and support his efforts. In time, however, this soured. Plissken developed a feud with Jamal Marley, a foreign general and holy man who frequently came to blows with the Sandbox community, and developed a frenzied advertisement campaign for his Plissken's 200th, a celebration of his mafia setups. This campaign involved a one-on-one duel with Marley, and eventually escalated into a death match. On the night of the event, Jamal won, but he showed mercy and spared Plissken's life. Plissken feigned gratitude and became a leader in the Church of Jamal, but as his sect grew it moved away from Jamal ideologically, especially as his master returned to his homeland to deal with unfinished business. In fact, Plissken was slowly corrupting his chapter into a radicalized force that could be used to turn upon Jamal once and for all and regain his dignity, targeting perceived allies of the Church that Plissken ironically labeled subversive. Some saw through his plot and even tried to extend an olive branch to let him know that he would be forgiven, but he refused. His hatred for Jamal was unquenchable. His master plan was about to be executed, all intended as a prologue for Plissken's 300th, when the moderator team (whom had been watching him like vultures beforehand) swooped in and banished him on a month-old harassment case. Indeed, Plissken had become the man who had sold the world, unable to let go and in the process losing it all. To this day, his whereabouts are unknown, but in the northern dunes on a starry night, it is said that one can hear his whispers.
