Another Stroll (Interrupted)
Shifting between districts was as simple as walking for one so Royally Dispersed.
The backstreets were always so forlorn, wasteful & sometimes even toxic.
His last trip to the wastelands had been seen more utility then this latest venture.
At least there he could provide some relief to the resource starved strays.
Sowing Spores was as simple as a wave of his elongated fingers, not what they truly were of course, merely appearances being kept up.
Some fresh color, cleaner environs was the best he could hope to achieve in these unloved back alleys.
When he ventured inside the Nests there was even less space to set down roots, shameful artificiality choking out life's opportunities.
But that didn't make his work fruitless no....
Raising both palms upward, intertwining the key digits He began to move forward once again
A pair of harsh movements roughly interposed themselves, hacking clean through both His midsection & lopping free his left arm at the elbow.
Taking stock of his two assailants, His Ṃycelial Ṃajesty let out a susurrus, growing into almost a chuckle, nearly a sob, originating not from where sound would be expected to originate, certainly not His humanoid extension that had been so rudely assaulted.
"You ought not to have done that" They Feel more then hear as they move to continue their extermination mission...
A overly long minute passes as the pair continue to hack & tear away at the now fallen & still twitching form amid the trash. Desperation continues mounting as some unknowable pressure builds heavily upon the pair, palpable even upon the air.
One still relies upon its lungs & begins to belabor its breathing under something worse then the mere strain of this casual violence. Slowing the assault, their synchronization crumbles, the unaffected partner pauses when they hear first cough, a moment of concern is all that is required.
What was severed pitches itself upward, scrambling, scratching, hugging itself to any part of the face it can grasp, another moment of distraction.
The fallen form's neck violently twists beyond reason, bereft of any sound, no bones left to break as its revealed face bears a rictus. Breaking wide & expelling a violet cloud, thickly laden with a different kind of spore rises up blotting out all three.
As the air clears, He begins to dust off the refuse with a hand that was moments ago severed HṂṂ takes stock of the two new mounds of luminescent mushrooms growing amidst the other filth.
"At least they'll brighten up this corner..." Once more cut off by hail of heavy fire power pouring down upon his tired form from too many angles, a serious attempt it would seem.
This response will call for no fanfare, a simple ripple down along something larger & deeper then the mere fruiting body that had been risen to the surface so it might enjoy a stroll. Encircling the perimeter of the unceasing salvo a ring of mushrooms silently spring up just beyond notice. Then the firing all stops all at once, eerily quiet in stark contrast to the cacophony of the previous downpour just moments ago. Fourteen greying growths supplant atop where the assailants previously held positions. Nothing else to mark their sudden passage into the underworld.
Fourteen spasms later & Seven new suits emerge, sliding up the trunks from the glowing depths. These are promptly filled out by new growths, branching off to provide the missing limbs needed. It isn't long before Seven newly minted men stand to look down upon their fallen self in the burnt out crater.
"At least the trash has been cleaned out" They say in unison, before six move down to pick up the fallen. Disappearing once again, back into the glow.
The last turns, sweeping his field of view until he locks eyes with the remaining observer, presumably meant to scout & report on this 'operation'.
A gloved hand making a shushing gesture is all they can remember when they wake up later, in an entirely different district.