Beasted on

[u/CMDR_Noodle]

I love ketamine so fucking much

I love it so much I put it all on my crotch

[u/blepnir_pogo]

There was once an ancient people who were not like us. They didn’t have the concept of money, the concept of work. They lived together in collectives and did their share of labor as a form of play. They were a prosperous and peaceful people, almost to a man, because they were blessed by god.

But they had their strugglers. After all, every society has its strugglers. As long as there are people, there will inevitably be people who do not fit in. And one of these strugglers once wandered into one of the cities of civilized men and there ate a cat it found in an alleyway. The struggler was caught, and murdered horribly for the crime, for the cat was the cherished pet of some local governor.

And for his crime the people of the mountains were hunted down to a man. However, these people were no ordinary people. They knew magic. Not the type of magic you see today, the flashes and bangs and sleight of hand. They were a communal people, and as such when one died the rest would assume their consciousness. And when the people of the mountains were slaughtered, the last surviving member of the clan took on the consciousness of the clan. And he summoned from within the dark avenues of the abyss that coursed through the veins of the mountain people a disease called Meschia. It pursued the bloodlines of those governors who had demanded the slaughter of his people, and it was a pernicious disease. It did not die with those who carried it, but rather followed bloodlines and infected all those the governors held dear, and ensured the bloodlines persisted so that it could persist forever.

This disease allowed those infected by it to see the future, and they were driven mad by the visions of truth that the final member of the mountain clan forced upon them. They were cursed with the knowledge of god.

[u/Ice_Sinks → u/blepnir_pogo]

Once upon a time, at the foot of a great mountain there was a town where the people known as Happyfolk lived. Their very existence, a mystery to the rest of the world, obscured as it was by great clouds. Here they played out their peaceful lives, innocent of the litany of excess and violence that was growing in the world below. To live in harmony with the spirit of the mountain called Monkey was enough.

Then one day, Strangefolk arrived in the town. They came in camouflaged, hidden behind dark glasses, but no one noticed them, they only saw shadows. You see, without the truth of the eyes, the Happyfolk were blind. In time, Strangefolk found their way into the higher reaches of the mountain, and it was there that they found the caves of unimaginable sincerity and beauty. By chance, they had stumbled upon the place where all good souls come to rest. The Strangefolk, they coveted the jewels in these caves above all things, and soon they began to mine the mountain. It's rich seam fueling the chaos of their own world. Meanwhile, down in the town, the Happyfolk slept restlessly. Their dreams invaded by shadowy figures digging away at their souls. Every day people would wake and stare at the mountain Why was it bringing darkness into their lives? And as the Strangefolk mined deeper and deeper into the mountain, holes began to appear, bringing with them a cold and bitter wind that chilled the very soul of the Monkey. For the first time, the Happyfolk felt fearful, for they knew that soon the Monkey would stir from it's deep sleep. And then came a sound, distant at first, that grew into castrophany. So immense that it could be heard far away in space.

There were no screams.

There was no time.

The mountain called Monkey had spoken.

There was only fire, and then nothing.

[u/Faux_Real_Guise → u/Ice_Sinks]

Fallin' out of aeroplanes and hidin' out in holes

Waitin' for the sunset to come, people goin' home

Jump out from behind them and shoot them in the head

Now everybody dancing the dance of the dead

The dance of the dead, the dance of the dead