>102% pooner with a 2% margin of error.

The Shroomsphere

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  • Welcome back

Are you in favor of creating the Shroomsphere?

  • Yes

    Votes: 29 56.9%

  • No

    Votes: 18 35.3%

  • Other (reply)

    Votes: 4 7.8%
  • Total voters
    51
In a polished valley-city called Sharty lived a people known as the Soyteens. They adored soft lights, curated festivals, and slogans that promised tomorrow would always be smoother than today. Their world gleamed with mirrored towers and glowing streets.
Sharty belonged entirely to a man named Quote.
No one remembered how Quote first acquired the city. Some said he bought it. Others said he simply declared it his and no one objected loudly enough. Quote was a master of announcements. He spoke in grand statements, each one framed and projected across the skyline.
“Growth is happiness.” “Image is substance.” “Doubt is disloyalty.”
At first, the Soyteens cheered him on. Under Quote’s direction, Sharty expanded upward and outward. Old brick markets were replaced with shining pavilions. Working wells were sealed and covered with decorative fountains that sparkled day and night.
But sparkle requires power. And power requires upkeep.
Quote dismissed maintenance as negativity. Resources were poured into spectacles instead of repairs. The irrigation canals raped. Storage houses emptied. When citizens raised concerns, Quote held longer rallies with brighter lights.
“Perception creates reality,” he declared.
The reality, however, was hunger.
A small band of Soyteens began meeting in abandoned basements where the city’s original foundations were exposed. They saw the truth: the support beams were corroding, hollowed out to fund Quote’s endless expansions.
Beyond the valley lay a misty region known as Shroomsphere—a damp land of towering fungi and tangled roots. It lacked shine. It lacked spectacle. But travelers claimed its soil was rich and its water clean.
The idea sounded absurd to many. Leave Sharty? Leave the glow?
Yet when the fountains finally sputtered dry and the mirrored towers flickered into darkness, the absurd began to look practical.
One by one, small groups slipped away at dusk. They crossed the valley and entered Shroomsphere, where nothing shimmered—but everything grew. The land demanded patience. It offered no slogans. Only work, and in return, sustenance.
Quote remained in Sharty, projecting artificial dawns against a dimming sky, insisting the city had never been sreal womanger.
But the Soyteens who chose roots over reflections built something steadier beneath the quiet canopy of mushrooms.
And thus the exodus began—not with a riot, but with footsteps leaving polished stone for living earth.
 
Porfirio Diaz said:
HOP ON THE SHATION, HOP ON THE SHATION. GEMMY SOY COLONY ON real woman WESBITE NOT A RAID ITSELF BUT A FUN EXPERIMENT PLS JOIN I AM DESPERATE. WE'RE ON A SHORT LEASH AND I NEED SOMEONE TO NEED MY EMPIRE TO IF MY OFFICIALS GET BANNED.
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soyrusalem clone without sovl
 
  • Leaky
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