Author Topic: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bloom  (Read 1399 times)

Offline Mdnthrvst

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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bloom
« on: April 20, 2013, 11:18:24 PM »
You think YOU'RE having a bad day?
Well, here's  a little story I think you might like.

Mister Blake Phillips is exploring a new town in his souped-up sedan, spinning donuts over the infinite zombie horde as he does, when he comes across a new sort of adversary: something called a Flaming Eye.
"Well, you don't see that every day," says Mr. Phillips, and this Eye proves to be troublesome indeed; a malignant gaze shearing through brick and steel, burning away the town as its master dips and weaves around Blake's merrily-charging death wagon.
Eventually - though it certainly takes a while - Blake is finally able to run over this new adversary like all others, and he thinks little of it, rooting for CBMs among the mangled remains of this town's Horde.

As he explores the twisted remains of one of the Eye-blasted buildings, Mr. Blake realizes he's sick; visions of infinitely-splitting fractals dance across his eyes, each one as rich and sublime as the one that gave it form:


"Well," says Mister Phillips, "can't run over zombies very well with these strange hallucinations in the way."
So he reaches into his Bag of Pharmaceutical Holding and pops a Thorazine into his mouth. That'll take care of these delusions.

Some time later, Blake is up-close-and-personal with a pack of zeds, swinging his rusty katana as true as the day he plucked it off the corpse of a drug dealer,
when a gout of interdimensional slime splashes into his face. He's been Boomered, but he is sure there was no Boomer.
Whatever, no time to worry about that; he cleans himself off without a second thought and loots another Electronics store.

By 5, it is starting to get late, and Blake begins to zero in on a house he might use for a good night's sleep;
but as he steps in from the rain, he notices a slight... cough in the back of his throat. He must have a cold; it's good that he's staying inside for once.
Dispatching a nearby pack of undead with little fanfare, he draws the blinds, sets his equipment in order, and snuggles up for a peaceful night's rest in a comfortable, roomy master bedroom.

When this happens.


Remember, kids: Always stay safe around translocational and interdimensional phenomena!
« Last Edit: April 20, 2013, 11:22:05 PM by Mdnthrvst »

Offline Williham

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Re: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bloom
« Reply #1 on: April 20, 2013, 11:44:43 PM »
Good sir, I do believe your story has forced me to pester the adminstrator for a "Stories" subforum.

Because god damn, we need more of this!

Offline Slax

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Re: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bloom
« Reply #2 on: April 21, 2013, 12:03:48 AM »
Divine intervention, Mister Blake Phillips. Well, as divine as the unholy or undead can get.

Offline Newbunkle

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Re: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bloom
« Reply #3 on: April 21, 2013, 12:04:02 AM »
Nice story, and great use of screenshots!

Offline AerialK7

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Re: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bloom
« Reply #4 on: April 25, 2013, 10:23:18 AM »
Hey man, I used your fungal stalks picture as the FB cover page ^_^"
We lack the motion to move to the new beat.