Editing The Consortium (section)

==Consortium, Part Two==
There was a long wait to see Bloogah!, and Miko alone wasn't waiting. She had modified her dress to be less anonymous, instead choosing the identity of a [[Space Marines|marine.]] She understood he held sympathies for that line of ideas; at least, judging by the portfolio she had picked up off the streets and walls of [[/tg/]].<br>
<br>
She was not the only one though; surrounding her, endless tides of green anonymous were awaiting, but here and there, there were others. Some dressed in hollow eyed squirrel suits, others clad in the latest fad, and one, disturbingly.<br>
<br>
She frowned behind the mask, eyes flicking up and down the person.<br>
<br>
"Bloomtime." What did that mean?<br>
<br>
"I'll see Miko now," Resounded from the front of the hall, and immediately there was a twitter of conversation radiating outwards from the entrance. She kept herself low key, but with the power she was gaining, it was simply impossible to be hidden all of the time. Though, it was a bit unnerving to be so swiftly labeled, but she hadn't put any real effort into it, so she set aside the fact that she had been affected.<br>
<br>
She stood, turned smartly, and set down the hall past the tide of green faces, stepping on delicately laid murals and marble slabs depicting the [[Angry Marines]]. "Move, fa/tg/uy," she commanded unnecessarily to one of the larger anon. She was pleased to see that they were accepting the title. She hadn't been the one to propose it, but she had seen it, through the Consortium's influence, into being accepted.<br>
<br>
With a grin, she passed the doors, into the attending hall. It vanished, when she actually saw Bloogah!, grinning wetly, splitting the bristled fur on his face.<br>
<br>
"[[Furry]]," she breathed. She could not hide her disgust.<br>
<br>
"Oh dearie dearie me," announced the creature as he leaned back on his chair, spreading his paws, "You've found me out. You haven't really done your research, have you dear?"<br>
<br>
Miko cut her retort short, and paused, "I...Had not felt it necessary to pursue the lives of artists outside of /tg/," She cocked her head, "Then the Angry Marines-"<br>
<br>
"I'm a fan of them," replied Bloogah!, sitting up, "I don't just draw great big yiffing piles of squirrels, dogs and cats, you know," the grin broadened, "Though I assure you I can draw a mean-"<br>
"Enough," she replied curtly, still standing.<br>
He raised his hideous hands, "My apologies, I did not mean to offend your sensibilities- I believe you asked to see me, didn't you?"<br>
After some time, Miko slowly nodded, "Yes, yes, it's about my-"<br>
"Conspiracy."<br>
"I would call it only a gathering of like minded [[drawfag]]s in order to...Foster a more palatable environment for our ideas."<br>
"Mmf," murmured Bloogah!, as he reached to a side table for a glass of something foul, "Make sure everyone's on the right page."<br>
"Yes," She blinked slowly, "I already have the majority on my side."<br>
"You wouldn't try to crush me, then, and be done with it?" Bloogah! smiled, "It certainly wouldn't sound good to have my kind in your ranks."<br>
"No, but I feel it would be worse to waste more of my time and resources on suppressing things I quite frankly approve of," Miko indicated the wall length tapestry to her left, "Our aims are the same. This is a mere formality. All this would mean is that you would be invited to meetings you wouldn't come to."<br>
"And I'd support your works when the time comes. Especially with things between you and Bloomwriter."<br>
"Yes," A pause, "And there is NOTHING between me and Bloomwriter."<br>
Whether or not the emphasis was clear, Bloogah! did not reveal. He smiled all the same.<br>
"Very well."<br>
<br>
She refused refreshment. She could not tarry in her work.<br>
----
"I don't like the way we're going about things," murmured Drawfaggit as he leaned up in the tower, gazing at the streets filled with milling green anons below.<br>
<br>
"What way?" Grunted Drawanon, as he dragged his brush up another step.<br>
<br>
"Well," considered Drawfaggit, scratching at the back of his head, "This."<br>
<br>
"Oh the faces yeah," mumbled Drawanon. Another awkward pause reigned over the proceedings before he managed to roll the brush to the top, and he panted for a time before continuing, "Well, it's like a signature when you're painting right? They'd know it was you even if you didn't have the name."<br>
<br>
"It just feels a little-"<br>
"Hey help me get this thing up here," Drawnanon shifted the brush towards Drawfaggit as he leveraged it up.<br>
"Engf, yeah, it feels a little like we're setting ourselves up for something, building our, god damn you dip the ink in lead, building ourselves up for something that'll end badly."<br>
<br>
Drawanon considered this, nodded, and then with great profundity said, "I'd rather end badly tomorrow than today."<br>
"Ain't that the reasoning of a coward?"<br>
"It's the reasoning of a guy ordered to smear a dude when he comes walking by, oh would you look at that."<br>
"Hey!"<br>
Morgan frowned. He hadn't been a namefag for long, but he totally pwned some noob who posted a shitscribble about a sexy catachan the other day, and was feeling good. Was this an adoring fan?<br>
"Look up!"<br>
Morgan complied, just in time to see a good three ton brush run him through.<br>
<br>
They could still hear the squelching and the screams from below from below when Drawanon proposed they get some Tandoori.<br>
----
"The Bloomtime is soon," whispered one of the sodden fa/tg/uys huddled in the alley, rocking back and forth in his LCB pages, "He'll c-c-c-c-come soon, I know he will."<br>
<br>
"Lol," said a passing /b/tard, "He said come."<br>
<br>
Carefully, the cyclopean figure considered the scene, flipping the unlit cigarette through his fingers. Despite the piss drizzle, a run off from the oncoming one million get's shitstorm (It was a ways off, but nomadic /b/tards were used to a far faster board, and came anyway), the man was still. Watching.<br>
<br>
He walked through /tg/, gazing at the walls, the signs across the windows, stealing literature. The house on the hill, Castle [[Suptg]] was growing, but it didn't interest him all that much. The themes were merging, noted the man, as he rolled the cigarette. There was a power moving things, and a name he kept hearing.<br>
<br>
Miko. Creator of Love Can Bloom.<br>
<br>
"rape kekekeke" murmured the Chink, as he brought the cigarette to his mouth.<br>
----
"Miko."<br>
<br>
Her eyes snapped open, as she stood bolt upright, leaping off of the desk she was sleeping on.<br>
<br>
"What? I, I," She shook her head, "I'm sorry, I was sleeping," She waved her hand in front of her face, as if to dispel what sleep remained, "Terribly sorry Jaekyu."<br>
<br>
"It's no problem- I just figured you'd want to see the report is all."<br>
<br>
"Report? Oh, yes, right, report. Give it here and show yourself out, Jaekyu."<br>
<br>
With a slight bow, a scant few footsteps, and the click of a door swinging shut Miko was left alone with the folder full of loose papers.<br>
<br>
From Jeanstealer, lilac paper with crayon on it, describing that the first phase was well under way, that she would advise a move to IRC because she couldn't stand Meebo. Lolcron's report, though cleaner, mirrored Jean's.<br>
<br>
[[Drawfag|B&Hammer 40kun]] hadn't given up on anon in its entirety quite yet, but still had given some support for the main meme of Love Can Bloom, even if it was tenuous half approval jocularity.<br>
<br>
Bloogah! sent her a love note. It fell into the garbage, unopened.<br>
<br>
Drawfaggit and Drawanon each cast speculations of treachery upon another separately, though they both had gotten rid of another wretched namefag. Still able servants.<br>
<br>
Scriptarius though...His [[loli|pedophilia]] would cause problems, she did not doubt. For now, she set aside his report, to consider further developments and matters.<br>
<br>
The great work she had started was on the cusp of fruition. She glanced out her window, and then with some uncertainty, pried off her mask.<br>
<br>
The [[shitstorm]] on the horizon was approaching. One million was still far away, but even now piss drizzles would come over the city. She sighed, somewhat content. After one million, a golden age. [[Just as planned|All of her work, all of her preparation.]]<br>
<br>
Soon.<br>
----
Yards away, sitting in the gutter, urine washing past his shoes, the smiling Chink stopped a passing anon.<br>
<br>
"WANNA SEE SOMETHING??"<br>
<br>
Screams echoed into the night.<br>
----
"It was, like, a chestburster in his, er I mean, her, I mean, god I don't know what, but it was in its penis."<br>
<br>
The crowd glanced amongst one another, as the horrified anon kept talking.<br>
<br>
"and, and, it was in mid burst- right when the veins, and the skin, and the everything was at its most TAUT, and you could see in one of the tears...Desu eyes."<br>
<br>
The assembled glanced amongst each other, murmuring in various states of arousal or horror as Drawanon and Drawfaggit exchanged knowing glances underneath anonymous masks.<br>
<br>
"Did you save a copy?"<br>
"What? W-W-Why would I save that shit?"<br>
"Okay, do you have a name? Any clues as to who he is?"<br>
"Well. He talked, like a crazy guy. Yelling all the time, mispronouncing words..."<br>
"IN ALL CAPS?"<br>
"Exactly!"<br>
"Yeah I think I've seen him-"<br>
<br>
Drawfaggit and Drawanon had heard enough, as the conversation fell into bullshittery and jokes.<br>

"We'll have to tell the Consortium."<br>
"Shouldn't they know?"<br>
"Hammer's too addled from /b/ to tell this as anything different from the usual- he might even start taking pointers from him. Lolcron and Jeanstealer are hanging around in suptg, and Bloogah!..."<br>
"Come on, there's shock images here, all the time," Drawanon butted in, waving his hand, "Goatse hits nearly every Saturday, there was that flood of doll fucking gifs, the scrotum Christmas bag..."<br>
"...Yeah, you're right," Drawfaggit shrugged, "Probably nothing."<br>
<br>
They marched away from the gathered thread, passing the smiling, one eyed oriental as they walked away, putting the traumatized anon from their memories.<br>
----
"...And the Lofn project needs to be properly germinated in the populace BEFORE one million GET," finished Miko, flicking the folder shut with a bit of contempt, "And TRY to suppress this thread necromancy nonsense, it's getting old fast. Now if that will be all-"<br>
<br>
Chairs squalled and scratched concrete floor as all involved stood, pushing against the table, eager to get away- save for Hammer, glancing around, rolling an untouched apple in his hand.<br>
<br>
"[[Kharn]]writer's acting up."<br>
<br>
Everything stilled, for a time before Miko continued, "He's a writer, he hardly matters to me one way or another, or to /tg/ in one way or another."<br>
<br>
"I'm just saying," the old man said, looking up at her, "He's being a bit of a thorn," the apple rolled in his hands, then was lifted to his mouth, "He might be inoculating the populace to Lofn," the bagged eyes weighed heavily on her, as the Hammer took a bite of his apple.<br>
<br>
All eyes turned to Miko, caught in mid standing. Considering.<br>
<br>
"...How active is he."<br>
Hammer shrugged, his face stretching out in exaggerated uncertainty, "I'm not sure, but I've seen trickles of [[copypasta]] coming back in force- some of it taking a less than positive view of you and Bloomwrit-"<br>
"Enough. If he has a problem with Bloomwriter's work, I can't be bothered to intercede on the behalf of a dead writer. Things continue apace."<br>
<br>
The meeting adjourned, each one of them their eyes caught on the darkening horizon, jagged lines of nerd [[rage]] bouncing and splashing across the dark mass. The shitstorm of one million GET approached ever closer, and their work increased to a fever pitch.<br>
<br>
...Yet, even with the shitstorm far away, inside of /tg/ there was a surreal feeling; beneath banners proclaiming the Bloomtime was nigh, through the strange copypasta blowing on the streets, and past the shadows of dead threads pregnant with [[troll]]s, there was something worrying in the air.<br>