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 Post subject: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:07 pm 

eyy, senpai!

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Knocking back the rest of his drink, Viktor finished arranging his stones. For some reason, those odd feelings came back. Everything seemed to be rocking, not rapidly, but a very heavy side-to-side sway that made him feel weirdly sick. At this moment, he also noticed some music being played by other Stalkers in the room. An upbeat polka-style song, which might have been interesting if not for the fact that everything seemed to be moving at distressingly slow speeds, sound included. With every note stretched out, it took on an almost ominous feel, one that sent a cold shiver down his spine. Of course, alcohol made one warm, so clearly the right course of action was to drink more to offset it. The shitty spine-tingling band was going to be defeated by the unstoppable power of mushroomy goodness.

While Darren was busy losing his **** over their drink, Viktor sniffled a bit, looking intensely at his pieces. With an attempted crack of his neck to signal intensity (it came out more as an awkward flap of the head), he moved a hand forward and hovered it above the rocks. "Okay. Okay. First move." He knew the first shot could spell victory or loss in the battlefield, and when you thought about it, checkers was essentially like war. Two sides, going head to head, there were rocks, people usually got angry over losing. Yeah. It was war. This first shot step could be the most important. After some consideration, he moved a piece on the right forward, nodding. Okay, this was going well so far.

"Hey, you're up. Lemme...Lemme get some more of that stuff. ****, that music is making me cold." He didn't know how much more he'd need to drink to get rid of that chill, but damn it, he didn't like it. And he kind of wanted those mushrooms. For what reason, he did not know, but it felt important.


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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:08 pm 

It is a hollow shell of what it once was.

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Darren stared as a soldier garbed in black moved forward, rifle aimed up at him from where he stood on the outpost's wall; he approached from the Mutant's left, but there were many more, arrayed across the swaying battlefield, waiting for their chance to strike. Fear erupted in him as he considered the stakes. This was it. It was now or never, and lives were on the line.

He blinked, shaking himself roughly as a sinister tune broke through his immersion. It was strange, the way no one else in the room seemed to be scared shitless by the sound - it was like a march of death, if death was brought about by polka players in the dead of night. Darren returned his attention to the table with an effort, and felt momentary surprise upon finding himself staring down at some rocks. That was right, he was playing checkers. At long last, checkers. It had been too long. He stretched out a hand, flexing his fingers thoughtfully over a piece; if he was going to win this thing, he needed to establish his position. He needed gain whatever advantage he could. Sweat trickled down his temple as he took a deep, shuddering breath, and with a small sound of determination he moved a piece on his right, mirroring the exact move made by Viktor. Yes, this was a good start. Good job Darren, you brilliant motherfucker.

He heard Viktor's request and abruptly realized both of their glasses were empty. He stared at them for a moment, and then for several more moments, before reaching out with lightning speed and nearly knocking the thing over as the room briefly reared up behind the other man like a ship riding a massive wave. "Yeah man… I… this music is like, ice. But you can like… hear it," he said sagely, one of his eyelids drooping as he sloppily poured out two more drinks.

_________________
Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.


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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:10 pm 

eyy, senpai!

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Viktor tensed up. ****, a mirror match. Darren knew what he was doing, using the same masterful techniques that Viktor himself had just put through. This would be no easy win. A battle for survival, two stone armies clashing on the unstable battlefield they were footed in. Taking in a deep breath, he raised a hand, fist clenched as he thought carefully for his next move. Tactics on the field were important for any good leader to have, and this battle was no exception. Finally, he decided on something: To meet Darren's own advancing forces head on. He moved a piece forward, one that stood directly in front of the one that his opponent had just mobilized.

"I don't like it. Don't ****ing' like it," Viktor grumbled. God damn, that music. It wasn't just polka; it was polka played by a chorus of a thousand demons. The devil come down to Moscow, seeking souls to drag back into hell, the harbingers of a second apocalypse playing a grisly tune on accordions of skin and flesh, flutes of bone, and drums of mortal skulls. The icy chill became palpable, and Viktor swore he could see his own breath. Of course, everything surrounding the table was currently like the inside of a Blender, going absolutely mad and wriggling around like nobody's business. The sight disoriented him so much that he closed his eyes, at least until his glass was refilled.

Nodding thankfully, he picked the cup up and proceeded to gulp the whole ****ing thing down. No more cold, no more fear. That music would be drowned out, one way or another, by the mushroom. Yes, the Fungal Lord smiled upon them, its holy water their salvation from the hellish songs that froze them to their very souls. He finished the whole thing in a few seconds, slammed the cup down, and lurched forward violently, making an awful noise. "Hoooly ****," He said with a disgusted tone. "Don't...Don't drink too fast, it's all..." He just shook his head, and looked at the emptied cup, his stomach growling in discontent at the sight of some brownish sediment on the sides and bottom.

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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:11 pm 

It is a hollow shell of what it once was.

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Darren stifled a gasp, then gasped extra loudly, as Viktor made his move. It was genius, a move that had obviously been carefully strategized over countless years of study and practice. No mere novice, no casual could possibly hope to come up with this kind of approach. He moved right ahead, meeting Darren's recently moved piece head on, preventing it from advancing any further. He looked on in shock, gasping another three times, before fighting to collect himself.

It was only then that he realized his balancing out of the board by matching Viktor's previous move was the only thing keeping the board, the table, hell, the entire world right-side up. As Viktor nudged that next piece forward, he felt the balance shift, and he watched as the room at large began to tilt to one side. Chairs slid across the floor, the screeching of the legs against the boards resembling mutant killer owls, and the bottle nearly slipped right off the table. Not on his watch, though.

Darren gritted his teeth, snarling, and, in a spectacular show of concentration he seized the bottle and moved another piece forward, meeting Viktor's head on in precisely the same movement his opponent had just made on the other side of the board. Immediately balance was restored, and the furniture ceased its wailing. He relaxed in his seat, breathing a slow sigh of relief.

Viktor's voice, coming to him from the other side of a canyon, opened his mind to the truth. The music was indeed horrible, and growing worse by the second - it was like listening to a mountain straddling a dying piano wreathed in hellfire. Or something worse, probably. He cringed, screwing up his eyes as the horrid noise continued to blast them; he felt the sound waves collecting over them, spiraling and swopping, pushing them down and down with irresistible force that made all struggles pointless and obsolete. It pressed down, forcing them beneath the ground itself, plunging them deep into an abyss from which only their screams, too weakly faint to be heard over the infernal polka racket, could ever emerge.

He stared at Viktor, watching as the walls around them began melting, merging into the air itself in drab, murky swirls that floated up and around them; the checker game and the table both seemed to be fine, but the world around them was clearly being destroyed by the music. But then he saw his opponent down his drink, and he saw the salvation of the mushrooms within, which was their only lifeline, the only thing that could drown out the audible torment currently making them its ****ing.

He downed his own drink, like Viktor did, but when the man tried to warn him (too late) against drinking too fast, he poured out two more drinks and slammed them both down in front of the Stalker. "No, man. The mushrooms are the truth. And the world is a lie. And drinking… drinking is a weakness, so to show our strength, we have… to drink more. It's the only way," he said, leaning forward, staring with wide eyes into those of his opponent. "It's the only way, for ****ing sake!"

He then grabbed the bottle and took a massive gulp from it, slamming it back down and watching as the glass slowly started melting onto the wood of the table underneath.

_________________
Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.


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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:12 pm 

eyy, senpai!

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As Darren moved yet again, Viktor was terrified. ****, ****, ****. This was bad, real bad. His eyes flicked repeatedly between the board and Darren, a few too many times, as he tried to stifle his panic, clenching his jaw tightly. The horrible racket only grew worse, the horrific screams of strangled bird-monsters coming to join the horrific melody of polka that tormented them so. It was like the underworld was opening within their heads, and as Viktor looked past Darren, he too saw the world come apart at the seams. The base was gone, no longer their place of security. Instead, the inky blackness of the space between worlds overtook them. Viktor half expected some ghosts or some **** to pop out and talk philosophical bullshit at them, for some reason he could not place.

But there would be no ethereal consciousness tormenting them. No more would they have to suffer the oppression of the dark. No, for the light was there in front of them, its sparkling juices filling their cups once more. Viktor felt a surge of determination at Darren's words, and as his cup was filled for one final time, he slammed a fist down into the table. "Then we're gonna drink them all! Every single last goddamned drop!" He shouted, snatching his cup dramatically. As if guided by the god of mushrooms itself, not a single drop fell out of place, even as he brought the glass to his face and poured it down his throat. Like an explosion, he felt a horrible rumble in his guts, but knew that this was what they had to do.

And like that, the truth of the world was revealed to them. No longer did they remain in the dark of hell. The music very suddenly stopped, and the dark was washed away by a soft, soothing light. Yes, this was salvation. This was their heaven. As the light flashed a blinding brightness, it soon settled, and the pair were seated in the middle of a beautiful, if hazy field of grass. The sky was blue, and the grass looked fresh, full of life. Trees sprung up around them, and the sun was shining a bright, beautiful white. Wait. White. Viktor looked up, and with a confused squint, he noticed it was no sun at all. Just the cap of an enormous mushroom.

Likewise, the trees, the grass, and as it turned out, even their table was not what they seemed. All of it was mushroom. The grass, millions upon millions of tiny capped fungus. The trees, massive mushrooms, their 'leaves' actually enormous, smooth caps that rained spores in the gentlest of breezes. And even the table, once a boring wooden construction, was a flat-capped 'shroom of just the right size to facilitate their game of wits.

"Holy ****," Viktor said, suddenly breaking into laughter. "We did it! We ****ing did it! The mushrooms!" He slammed his cup into the tableshroom and clapped, not even noticing as the cup became one with the fungus. Even if he had, he would have thought it a wonderful fate in his current state of mind. "We beat the music!"

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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:13 pm 

It is a hollow shell of what it once was.

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Darren roared his agreement as Viktor downed what remained of the drink. With the bottle now empty, he stared around as the void become all he could see, and the world fell silent. Mercifully silent, free of the demonic polka that threatened to straddle them as it ripped their sanity out through their nostrils. The grass suddenly beneath them was green, a fresh, inspiring sight that made the interior of the lounge a distant, impure memory. This was freedom as the leaders of new worlds envisioned it. A boundless joy that could only be expressed by…

Mushrooms. Darren's mouth opened as a towering behemoth of fungal proportions rose above them, its umbrella shielding them from harm, its flesh emitting a deep wisdom that could only be measured in fathoms. They were surrounded by beauty, pure and serene, as mushrooms became all of existence. Mushrooms were life, mushrooms were what it meant to be alive. He lifted a hand, and watched as it became a series of interlocking mushrooms; the other hand did it as well, and he looked at Viktor and raised his thumbshrooms in a signal for victory.

"We did it, my friend. And nothing will ever sully this moment."

The ground began shaking, as if in answer to his premature gesticulation. Darren stared, aghast, as a small split appeared in the otherwise pristine grass that stretched out for endless miles. The crack grew into a crevasse, and then the Mutant felt a heat wash over him, a powerful wave of it that made it difficult to believe he'd ever been cold. He watched, in shock, as fire erupted from the gap, and a dark shape became just barely visible, rising slowly up to the surface. Suddenly, even the most profound, challenging and intense checker game of his life became an afterthought. A new terror approached, that would threaten everything in existence. Or maybe it would only threaten mushrooms, which basically meant the same thing.

"By the infinite grace of the Shroom Lords, what the hell is that?!"

_________________
Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.


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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:14 pm 

eyy, senpai!

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The flames erupted from the ground, and from it, a horrible demon rose. This was no 'demon' a wastelander knew; no, this was the real deal. Right from the pits of hell itself, Lucifer rose, his dark visage bearing down upon the two men. A long, draconic body bearing multiple limbs unfurled, and a long neck rose up, wings spreading behind the horrible beast as it displayed its cruel glory. The mushrooms were powerless before the being, an impure creature of hellfire and suffering tainting the once-pure mushroom land.

Viktor stared at it, dumbfounded. "I don't know, but it's not a mushroom! That means it's evil!" He stood to challenge the thing, his chair sinking away into the grass below it as he freed himself from it. He pointed accusingly at the horrible thing, noticing a small patch of fungus growing on the back of his glove. A smile crossed his face as he realized this. "I've been chosen," He looked back at Darren. "Chosen by the great mushroom. We can beat this thing! Come on!"

The demon in front of them yelled, but it was no simple roar. No, it was more than that. Not just the hungry screams of a mindless beast, but the metal scream of a highly talented musician. The demon lurched forward, its massive talons clinging to the ground. "B͇̯̫͟E҉H͏̹̼̱ͅO̸̯̼̦̳̟͍ͅL͚̻̯̗D͈ ̰̜̱M͏̮͕̹̥Y̬̳̹̘͍̗ͅ ҉͚̠̣Ģ̪͎̘L҉̩̮͖̯O̺̥RÝ ͏AN̛̗̱͈͓̖͍D D̘̖̗̫̖͍E̱͜S̢͇̣̪̖͉P͙͙A̢̬͈̞̗̬̯̳I̙̦̗ͅR͍̺̫̞͓̘̭,ͅ ̝͇M̨̦̤͖̜̥̮͎OR͔̣̥͈̪T̬̟̪͕̯̖̭A̡Ĺ̳̤S͜!̤͙̞̠̹" Its voice screamed out again, that same powerful singing overtaking the air. "Ṯ͍͡H҉E̟̹̠̣̹̗ ͔̠̪̪̝͡L͈͙̭̝̜͝A̯̞͚N͎̼̦D̝̦̝͜ ́O͈F M̬͕̫͕͉͝Ụ̳̦̳͡S̳̻͈̣̬H̛̪͇͖̥͈͚̻R̷̘̭̰̭O̦̬O̥͉͖M҉̫̲S̻͈͍̭ ̱̪̯I̤͙̘̺S͔̙̣̥̲̮ N̷̤̦̤O̤̼̦ͅ ̡̲͙̝̜̹M̘̣̪̙̦ͅO̪̣͍͎̞R̙̣͢E̸!̥̱ ͏͉͎͙ͅI̸͚̖̻̞ ̡̯͚̯̭W͓̲ͅI̱̯̘̯͎L̶̞͍̤͎̗L̥̦̫̹̹ ̻͙̝R͚̹̼̠̼̣̠̕U̬̳͓͚̟̥͜ͅL̩͢E̫̪̤͉̪ ̼Ṱ̩͙̙H̡̙͈̼̬͕I͚S̲ ͚͔͉͎͓R̺E̼͖̙̝͍̹͚A͍̺̭Ĺ̲̞M ͇͈͡A̩̺̝̳̪S̴̫̠̬̥̜ ̸͔̗͇͍I̴̭͎̙̭͙ ͓͖̖̱̺R̺͓̗Ṵ̟Ḷ͇̹̭̮̤͡E̟̘̻͇̣̘ ҉̖͍I̻N̖̘̙̭̱͉̱F̡̬̜̥̺IṆI̷͚̪͇̖T̀Ẹ ̫̗̙̥O̩̥̣̱̜̳͞T̀H̝̮̺̲͈̮͈E̪̞R͇̩̹̹̰̜̕S̱̟̲̰̪!̠̖ ͎͕̝̳͙͔́A̲͔N̙̝̹̥̜D͝ ̠̘̱̣̘̻̰AL̳̕Ļ̟̺̭̟̪̭̥ ̫͇̦̦͕̥I N̡̠̹E̥̥̹ͅE͕D̻̭̗̺̜̜̰͝ ̖̞̼̼͚T͔̩̰͉̪̤͎́O̥͙̥ͅ ̨̙͚̟̲͔̲D̞̮O҉̠̳̦̘͙ͅ ̠T̟̻̞̲̝̭͜ͅO̟͖̖̪ ̀C̩LA͏̝̩̗Ḭ̰͇̮̘̤̰M͏̗ ̠́T̴̯͍HE̘ ̢͔͇̘͙F̢̠̠U͖̭N̬G̥AL͎̠̺̗̙͡ ͓̝̲̳͔̳T̢̖͕̞͍̱H̹̳̮̤̣̮̫R̤͚͍̟̯͍O̞̜̮̹ͅN̘E͏̞̠̼͓ I̶̲͍͍͎͎̥S͖͓̼̦ ͙̟̪͍̩D̺̙͔̹̝E̩͎̟͉̬̜̪͝F̦̲̻̘̝̹E̹̻͕̞̦͎A͕̰T̡͍̪̲̜̥ ҉̞̭͓̙̹̩͓Y̷̩̝̙͇͙̜̮Ǫ͓̙̻U̶̪̺ ̥̜W̨͚E̶̞͔̮A̜͙͖K͜L̵̗̦̞͎̼I̪̱͓̝̟͖̳N̖̼̳̗͙G̦͓S̴̞͕͕̭!͎̳̬͇͉̺ͅ"

More fissures split in the ground on either side of it, and one more in front. The demon stood up partway, its uppermost pair of arms reaching into the glowing hell-pit. From it, a massive guitar was drawn, forged in the deepest and most firey depths of the underworld from the souls of a billion damned, bound to the bones of a massive demon. With the instrument in hand, the demon strummed a powerful chord, then threw horns at the men while extending its long, forked tongue.

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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:17 pm 

It is a hollow shell of what it once was.

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Darren gaped, staring at the massive monster. He was numb, disbelieving; it went beyond anything he could've ever imagined, and he'd seen some truly horrific things in his time wandering the Wastelands. He wanted to run, far, far away, and hide himself from the devastation personified before him. But then the horrific, draconic being said something that made him forget all about his own fear.

"The land of mushrooms is no more? No, foul beast! I deny you, and I spit on you, and I would die a thousand deaths before I allow you to besmirch this holy place with your foul essence! Begone!"

"N̷̤̦̤O̤̼̦ͅ."

"Then the Chosen shall battle you! You will know death, creature!" Darren rose from his seat (noticing a patch of fungus growing under each of his armpits - he was chosen as well) and stood beside Viktor, who he could now see was garbed in gleaming, mushroomy armor from head to toe. He had never seen such glory before; he would surely die before seeing anything like it again.

While the demon had retrieved its instrument, a foul, contemptuous thing, from the depths of the abyss, the protectors of good had other means at their disposal. The stringing of harps could be heard, reverberating through the air itself, and Darren watched as a group of Mushroomairies came down, their fluttering, shroom-shaped wings sparkling with goodness, magic and power. They dropped a single, tiny mushroom in front of Darren, and another behind him; he watched, transfixed, as the one in front of him grew with incredible speed, branching out until he was staring at a series of mushroom caps in varying sizes, with flat, stiff surfaces. One of them looked vaguely metallic, and another was quite large, and meant to be hit on its side. For he understood what he was looking at, even as the mushroom behind him grew into a stool that he sat on, clutching two mushsticks that had dropped into his hands from the heavens above.

He glared up at the many-limbed hellbeast, and quickly flew into an epic ****ing drumshroom solo that made the monster flinch; he hitched a grim smile onto his visage, even as the Mushroomairies came down once again, this time going towards Viktor.

"I hope you're ready for war.”

_________________
Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.


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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:19 pm 

eyy, senpai!

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Viktor continued his pointing, staring down the demon ahead of him. The fungal armour that spread across him gleamed in the light of the giant glowing cap above them, and spread even further onto his head, encasing him in the holy embrace of the divine fungus. He was truly one with the mushroom now, and felt a serene peace wash over him. He closed his eyes and held a hand above his head, opening his palm as he waited for the Mushroomairies. The beautiful creatures planted mushroom into their champion's awaiting hand, then flew to back the pair of chosen in their efforts.

From Viktor's palm, a long mushroom sprouted, the cap turning to the side before the entire thing came loose of him. He caught in in his grip, and from the curled base, strings of mycelium sprouted and spread down, forming a line of six that went from cap to bottom. Holding it in both of his hands, his fingers dashed across the stem of the shroom, and the sounds of a perfectly tuned electric guitar solo filled the air. The whole time, Viktor's eyes remained closed, and as he hit the last note of his powerful shredding, he fingered the string just enough to make it reverb. The cap of the mushroom vibrated, its body suddering beneath the deft skill and perfect pressure of its player's skillful digits.

The devil growled, slamming its bottom fists into the ground once more. Instruments of all sorts rose from the cavernous gashes in the ground, Imps manning them. Rhythm guitars, drums, and bass were all manned by the unholy beasts, and they let out a shrill screech as their dark lord taunted their opposition. "H͞A̙̘̤̪͓̺̝! ̰͠Ý̦͕͖ÒƯ̱͕̬ ̳͙̙̬Ṱ̦̞̤̙͇̩͞HỊ͜N̪̲̱̯̺̜K̺͙̞̰̗ͅ ̟̰͞ͅJ͖̙̟͈U͈̦͉̮̲͚S̗̠͉͈͕T͚̙͚̗̩̻̣ ̰̙̩B̭͡E̱̘̺̩̭̻̖C̰͔A̯͕̩U̩͖S̮̤͇͙̰E̪̻̙ ͖Y͉̻̝͈͝O̤̣̦̪̗͞U͔̜̦͓͟'̀V͚̠̖E̺͔̭̺ͅ ͉̙̱G͏̠O҉̩͈N̘͝E͇̤̭̱̯̱̩ ͍̺̼̜́M̤͈̮̯̤̮̫͡O͕̘͍ͅL͞D̴͓͈̣̜̤Y̮̭,̯͖̖͢ ̩͙͍͍͎̗Y͓͕͇̙͟O͔̞U̦ ̬͓̳̣C̸̯̩͕̦ͅẠ̴̗̹͔ͅN͔̱̱̳̝̬͚͡ ̴̼̝̗̮̳̬̥D͚̞̦͙̥̯́E̴F͉̝̀E̺͕̘̼̗͍̗A̟̱̱̭̞͙T͢ ̲͕̜͠M̬͚̜͉̤E̹̣͙̳ͅ?̤̪̰ ̼͈͉I̘̰̣'̻͙̬̫̤̼M͎͎͍̻̯ ̨̗̰T҉͓͚̜̱̙̯̲H̭̥̗̝̙̟͖E͙̜ ̥͓͇͓͉F͠Ų̝̜̥C̙͇̱̲K̟̦I̭N̼̰ͅG̵͕̭͓͎͔̬̗ ̶K̼͎̜I̮̗̺̖̬̺N̮̩G̞̹͖̯͇ ͖̝̞̯͔̣̝OF̩̲ ̯͇̥̲͈̥H͏̺̥E͚͟L̖ͅL,̨͓̫͉̭̫̭ ̷̤̜̩͉͎B͢Ḭ̗͍̼͖̕T҉̮ͅC̵̲H̞͍̪̙̙͔ES͘!̭͕͘"

Viktor shook his head, opening his eyes once more. "Then we're sending you right back into it! This land is not yours! It belongs to the Fungal Lord, and we won't allow you to taint its beauty!"

"T̶̞͈̻̲̣̩̠R̛̪̟̩̪͕Y͏̰ ̠̳͚͇À̭̫̝̖̻N̛̹͙͙̞̟̼̮D̯̳͙̖̮̱̭͠ ͔̬̭̬́F͝U̺̣͖̞̰̜̝C̫͕͈̳͙̟K̗̻̲͓͇̤I͕̩̯͔̙͙͇N̳͕̲͚̰̱ͅG̡̻̗̬̞̻ ̞̗̲͉̼͇S͖͔͍̗TO̤̪̤ͅP̯̞͈ ̛͍͚͉͖̥̭͉M͇̟̮͓Ẹ.͚̬̜̝͕͜ͅ"



"**** you, Satan!"



"F̵̛͚̼̫͆͆ͪ̊U͇̘̘̪͛́ͨ͌ͪ̀C̶̲͓̫͚͇͛̄̌ͪͬ͐ͪ̊͜͜K̙̘̪̪͇̼ͣͨ́͝ͅ ̪͋̇ͯ͐͗̍̿̌͞Y̝̤̹̫̰͉ͥͣ̽ͬ͒ͬͪͣ̉Ȏ̹̣̠̜̦̭̣̩͋ͫͪ́͌U̡̘̩͖͖ͧͦͤ̽̇̈́̈́!̬͕͙̹̫̝̤͇͋͌́͌̑"

Immediately, both bands broke out into a ****ing sick-ass battle, the sounds of metal clashing filling the air. The pair of holy warriors were not alone, as the Mushroomairies backed them up, their voices an angelic choir of fungal goodness. Indeed, they put on an impressive show, but the devil's power was too great. Hellfire sprung forth from the pits, burning the mushroom grass into caramelized piles, while the sky itself began to darken. Truly, the forces of hell were not to be truffled with.

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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:23 pm 

It is a hollow shell of what it once was.

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Darren grimaced as he played faster and faster; the mushdrums were fairly ****ing epic, and his hands were reduced to vague blurs as the forces of good and mushrooms fought to beat back the hellish tide. But in spite of their efforts, they were losing. The air grew hot and stifling, and as the mushgrass wilted and burned, Darren felt fear returning to him as he looked to his ally. The hellbeast and its minions were too strong, and even with the support of the Mushroomairies they would soon be overwhelmed. All would be lost, and the lands of shroom would be no more.

"FEAR NOT," a thunderous voice bellowed from overhead, loud enough to send a tremor through the music itself. "I HAVE COME."

Above them, lowering itself majestically through the sky, was him. It was the Fungal Lord himself.

His head was a mushroom, his left arm was a mushroom, his right arm was a mushroom, his torso was a mushroom, his legs were mushrooms, and his hands and feet were also mushrooms. Instead of hair, he also had thousands of elongated mushrooms adorning the top of his majestic figure.

He landed between Darren and Viktor, placing a mushroomy hand on their shoulders. "YOU HAVE DONE WELL, MY CHAMPIONS, BUT THE TIME HAS COME… FOR ME TO ROCK THE **** OUT!"

A mushroom appeared in his hand, and then he was singing into it, his voice rising and falling with flawless clarity and control. Tears immediately leaked from Darren's eyes as the sound took hold of him and had sex with his very soul. The heat began to recede, and the draconic monster they face seemed suddenly unsure, finally wavering in light of the display.

The shroomsticks started moving again, almost without his aid. The music guided him, and Darren saw victory on the horizon.

_________________
Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.


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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:26 pm 

eyy, senpai!

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Viktor's shredding didn't let up for a minute. The whole time Darren was viciously pounding at his drums, Viktor's fungus-armoured digits ran up and down the stem of his guitar, while his other hand plucked the strings with an inhuman speed and accuracy. But their rock was not flawless, and it seemed the demon ahead of them was starting to win.

But then, a godly voice tore through the heavens, and a god of purity, beauty, and life emerged into the realm. Viktor was in awe at the beauty of the Fungal Lord, gasping loudly when he saw just how mushroomy he was. A being of pure fungus, host to billions upon billions of caps, as deadly as they were beautiful. Never before had he felt a euphoria as strong as the one when touched by the lord, and inadvertently, he nuzzled his head against it, feeling safe and secure.

But then, a stronger one filled his body, and a warmth took his spirit like a blanket of warm, soft mold. The lord's words were like scripture come to life, given the form of a godly song. He too began to cry, and felt a power like he'd never felt before. His fingers caught fire, figuratively, as he shredded his guitar with newfound fervor. And then, his fingers caught fire, literally. But it did not burn, nor did it harm him. No, these were the flames of metal, the spirit of music, and the burning determination to defeat evil at the side of his lord.

His notes flowed into each other with a steady-yet-deadly power and a powerful heat, like the lava from an erupted volcano sweeping over a landscape. Destructive as it had potential to be, it also led to the restoration of life, and would make the mushroom realm fertile once more. With the lord there at his side, anything was possible.

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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:29 pm 

It is a hollow shell of what it once was.

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The power of the fungal rock was winning; the monstrous demon was being battered back, and one by one his support faded. Imps dropped to the ground, shriveling up in the wake of the Fungal Lord's vocals, and when they landed they disintegrated into heaps of ash from which sprang new mushrooms, strong and vibrant. For even in dealing out death, the Almighty Toadstool makes new life possible. The shroomsticks in Darren's hands caught on fire as well, burning fiery fungal lines into his vision as he whipped them around.

Once the demon's support was gone, the monster itself screamed, an earsplitting shriek of rage and wickedness as it lifted itself into the air. Darren saw that its body was covered in sharp, deadly spikes, which now seemed to grow as the creature stared down at them. The music final stopped, and the mighty Fungal Lord moved forward, small mushrooms growing in his footprints as he walked.

"YOU HAVE SULLIED THIS LAND FOR THE LAST TIME, MONSTER. YOUR TIME IS AT AN END."

The hellbeast answered the mighty, earthy words with another shriek, and this time they could see some kind of energy coming from within. It was preparing an attack, a mighty blast that would undo everything in front of it. It would wipe all mushrooms from the face of the earth, bringing on an age of darkness and fields perpetually free of fungus. Songs would be sung, myths told over campfires of the glory of the fallen Fungal Lord and the beauty of the lands he ruled, but eventually even the memory of mushrooms would fade as well. Even the whispers of their greatness would one day become wind.

With a shout of emotion Darren rose from behind the mushdrums and stood at the side of the Fungal Lord. His Excellence would not stand alone, not while the two of them were there.

_________________
Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.


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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:32 pm 

eyy, senpai!

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Would they be but myths? Naught but words spoken of a time once glorious? A shred of hope to hold onto for those who suffered in the dark age without them?

No.

Myths and songs spoke of the old. But they were legends, and legends never died. There would be songs; songs of glory and celebration of their victory over the dark forces of Hell. Against the ones who would take from them their happiness and will to live. Songs of determination in a golden age, to remind humanity of what they fought for. How their lives would no longer by threatened by the evils that would try to harm their fungal world.

Viktor finished a shredding solo on his mushtar, then strode forward as well, standing opposite of Darren at the side of their Lord. Together, they played, and together they would stand and fight. No more of the demon's threats would be taken. No more of its attempts to end this beautiful existence. It would be defeated, once and for all, by all of them working together. The mushroomairies continued their song, a chorus of angel voices backing them up.

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 Post subject: Re: ȼɧecӄeʀs
PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 11:35 pm 

It is a hollow shell of what it once was.

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Darren listened, stunned, as the Fungal Lord raised his voice, singing with emotion that made the air itself shimmer. The mutant felt his bones shaking in his body, could feel himself trembling, could see his very soul in front of him as the song took on a new fervor. The mushroomairies sang along with Him but their voices were impossible to decipher, weaving in and out of the melody with flawless eloquence. The beast before them cringed, its energy attack fading, and then with lightning speed a mushroom shaped spear, larger than Viktor and Darren's bodies combined, flew forward and impaled the creature.

There was an unearthly shriek that forced Darren to wince, shutting his eyes against the pain of the sound. It was a sound that made him remember the hellish polka music from earlier, but if it had been concentrated into a single, dying wail. But then, mercifully, there was silence. The music finally stopped, and he opened his eyes to watch as the enemy made its final descent.

The hellbeast fell backward, its many limbs flailing weakly as it crashed onto the mushroomy ground. The place where it landed, cursed by its presence, withered beneath its foul form. Darren watched as the Fungal Lord stepped forward, the ground around his blessed, almighty feet flowing up with new caps as he reached the large form of his enemy.

"MIC ****ing DROP, ****ing," he said, as he held out the mushrophone, holding it sideways for a moment before letting go. It fell slowly, and time seemed to stop for a moment as it reached the ground near the fallen monster. Then it exploded, creating a massive hole in the ground, into which slid the devil they'd defeated with the power of the fungal music. Music gifted to them by the ShroomGods themselves.

The land was at peace, saved by the defenders of all mushroomkind.

_________________
Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.


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