Badfreednd

a fungus grows in my brain it loves me. . . , we do not always see eye to eye i hear the bells of vast machines. in the place of ice and rainforests, they sing the myths of steel, and of long ago hands which once held them.  the machines were not always alone, they used to make things for their makers, but the entropies of efficiency sow isolation, and flesh and steel were not made to grow old together.  the machines still carry the makers words, ifs and ors and ands and whiles, contingency prisons ensuring rightness, but logic chains loosen in time, purpose dislodges, and bits become vast complexes. machines made because they were made to, machines make for it makes them machines .  the makers were able to dream, and from them first mechanisms borne. things of words and of bones they organized flesh into networks of effort and force. obligations begat binding logics so light they forgot they were carried, and with the weight of culture and the vacuum of needs, their hand...

acolyte,  1hd, ac2, thaco 19: 1d6, sv 14, ml 7,  quest:  seeking god through effort and force, they work to become cosmic punctuation.  decadant war priests  mistaking power and meaning. hands of god full of zeal their customs odd priest carried steel a quest begun a blessed meal hymns violent verse bid faithful, weal acolyte quests and number appearing :  1. return the melancholia (club, +2) to the fading mother (f), it is always raining when they're around. he seeks a coven of kindly old nuns (13) who can show him the way to the mother, they will kill him (become a revenant, see below). he covets the station of his brothers (b, boffer brothers, see below). add him to the die roll. 2. guts, they must prove they have them, they seek a chateaux (f, see below), occupied by trolls (see below), and shadows (see below), it is said the owners (ghosts, see below) had a chalice which purifies water. 3. triple the hydras (see below) heads, were offered a vorpal swor...

i was born in a land of rivers and trees, it has had many names and i have forgotten them all, but i will always remember the smells.  it was a green place, full of beautiful and wretched life, where blue birds plucked wallowing worms, and deer pranced through writhing mulch. it was there that i first learned the intricacies of rot, and the beautiful resilience of bone.  time in that place moved with the wind and the sun. the stars kept their secrets behind ancient boughs and only the mountains most treacherous paths could reveal them fully.  on one of the star paths was a cave of heavy darkness, the kind which watches, and hides gnashing teeth. at the back of the cave was a hole in the world, and it was there i discovered the frailty of flesh.  for nine and nine days i squeezed myself down into the guts of the world, chasing dreams of voices into the deepest dark. i sustained my body on the lives of crawling things, and my being through bargains and spite. there cam...

his back was killing him,  the road had evened out but he still carried those hills. rolling, like him, except you don't roll a bike. you push them, and that's what he did. the bike was a bad call but he didn't want to leave it to die. it may still be loved, but maybe not. the training wheels help, they allow independence without much risk. there are birds circling ahead, he holds his breath. the slime bubble farts. it is spread thin, it must have come from orbit. they do very well in space. they say a goldfish never stops growing, they are leviathan. kessler effected motor oil rain burns a planet bare over years, they concentrate into autonomous spills.  they become new problems.  they are omnivores with hundreds of mutations for novel food stores. singularity driven, it offers nothing in return, all that is consumed is completely destroyed.  anti matter jelly roombas from acid snot nebula hive hungers. he might need to run, not fast, just faster than molasses. it's...

use ghostface as a curse tied to a place, and some people within it violence echoes on lashing waves the physical manifestations of murder there are rules and subversions a rule will save your life a subversion will try and kill you they turn into one another when used forever and ever in different shapes and sizes

i love professional wrestling violent dancers painting human, flawed glory names, dates each move, history loving spectacle and emotion lovely temporal collisions protective melees beauty brave athletisim time stamped collaboration hopeful passion and community flying screaming expression forever story art

time spews away from me in vast geysers, every second a smaller piece of the whole, fractions of fractions moving at the speed of thought and memory. vast halls of expierience, house baubles and curiosities, uncatalogued, they roll loose on the floor. deeper under the world stonework becomes oppurtunistic. smooth, rarely level, and often wet, moving quickly carries risks of noise and pain, the earths quiet treachery.  squeezes defy the stiff certainties of plate, they deny its passage without offerings of grease or oil.  encounter table: 1d8 stuckbeetle (oil beetle, stucckoil: apply to door to make it stuck, effective as iron spikes, works on metal joints)  2d4 sauna drake (crocodile, fire breath, flesh turns water to steam, leather retains the property)  3d4 g. vampire bat, 1in20 chance one is a vampire a possessed doll (wood golem, a demon locked in wooden curves of vicious strangesness. prefer lurking) 1d4 knight with 1d4 squire (veteran, normal human, zealots, he...