08-04-2018, 07:17 PM
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alegreya+SC' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><style type="text/css">.carnage_container{position:relative;z-index:1;width:460px;font:12px 'Times New Roman', serif;background:#040308 url('http://web.qx.net/zamora/stars-notdistorted.png');border-radius:300px 300px 0 0;border:1px solid #000;box-shadow:0 0 10px #000;}.carnage_container p{margin:0;}.carnage_container img{margin-bottom:-200px;border-radius:300px 300px 0 0;}.carnage_gradient{position:absolute;z-index:10;top:500px;left:15px;width:430px;height:100px;background:-moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%, rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);background:-webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%,rgba(118,118,118,0)), color-stop(100%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8)));background:-webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);background:-o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);background:-ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);background:linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);filter:progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#00767676', endColorstr='#cc4c4c4c',GradientType=0 );}.carnage_message{position:relative;z-index:10;width:400px;background:rgba(76,76,76,0.8);text-align:justify;padding:15px;color:#CCDDE6;}.carnage_quote{position:relative;z-index:15;text-align:center;top:-20px;font:18px 'Alegreya SC', serif;color:#B34747;text-shadow:1px 1px 4px #441211;}.carnage_name{position:relative;z-index:15;padding-top:10px;text-align:center;font:28px 'Alegreya SC', serif;color:#B34747;text-shadow:1px 1px 4px #441211;}</style><center><div class="carnage_container"><img src="http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b278/ruinedecho/carnage_zpsf4jw8cbz.jpg"><div class="carnage_gradient"></div><div class="carnage_message"><p class="carnage_quote">and lord, I fashion dark gods too;</p>
Part of him waits for Beqanna to disrupt them – for the mountain to shudder and heave at its invader. He’s interfered with her before – many times, really – and sometimes he feels it, when his interference grows too great. The pushback.
(When he first created Pangea, it had <i>hurt</i>, the pain of creating a land not intended for exitance. He’d won, created the land – and when he left, she had retaliated, and Pangea had crumbled.)
But there is nothing. Beqanna is busy, or perhaps doesn’t care. This isn’t much, what Warrick’s asking. And Carnage won’t ask him to do much. At least not on the surface.
“Of course you can’t,” he says, dismissive. He’s tempted to keep going, to pour salt in the wounds of Warrick’s shortcomings. But, ever the model of restraint, he moves on.
“I could be convinced,” he says, “to offer your kingdom some measure of protection. Nothing infallible, of course – we have <I>rules</i>, don’t we? – but something. A bit of help.”
He steps closer. He smiles, as if there is no hatred burning off his son.
“There was a kingdom,” he says, “a place called Pangea. It was my kingdom, for a time, but when I left Beqanna cast it away, off into the sea. I want you to go to its remains, and bring me back a piece – a mouthful of dirt, a rock, whatever you can carry. Something physical. Do that, and I’ll help you with your protection.”
Before Warrick can point out the obvious – Pangea is underwater – Carnage addresses it.
“Of course, it might be a bit...difficult to reach. I can help with that, too. I’ll give you the power to survive underwater, for a little while. All you have to do is kneel, and it will be granted.”
He looks at his son, his wine-dark eyes fever-bright, barely containing their glee.
“Go ahead, then,” he says, “my offer won’t last forever.”
<p class="carnage_name">c a r n a g e</p></div></div></center>
@[Warrick]
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#00767676', endColorstr='#cc4c4c4c',GradientType=0 );}.carnage_message{position:relative;z-index:10;width:400px;background:rgba(76,76,76,0.8);text-align:justify;padding:15px;color:#CCDDE6;}.carnage_quote{position:relative;z-index:15;text-align:center;top:-20px;font:18px 'Alegreya SC', serif;color:#B34747;text-shadow:1px 1px 4px #441211;}.carnage_name{position:relative;z-index:15;padding-top:10px;text-align:center;font:28px 'Alegreya SC', serif;color:#B34747;text-shadow:1px 1px 4px #441211;}</style><center><div class="carnage_container"><img src="http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b278/ruinedecho/carnage_zpsf4jw8cbz.jpg"><div class="carnage_gradient"></div><div class="carnage_message"><p class="carnage_quote">and lord, I fashion dark gods too;</p>Part of him waits for Beqanna to disrupt them – for the mountain to shudder and heave at its invader. He’s interfered with her before – many times, really – and sometimes he feels it, when his interference grows too great. The pushback.
(When he first created Pangea, it had <i>hurt</i>, the pain of creating a land not intended for exitance. He’d won, created the land – and when he left, she had retaliated, and Pangea had crumbled.)
But there is nothing. Beqanna is busy, or perhaps doesn’t care. This isn’t much, what Warrick’s asking. And Carnage won’t ask him to do much. At least not on the surface.
“Of course you can’t,” he says, dismissive. He’s tempted to keep going, to pour salt in the wounds of Warrick’s shortcomings. But, ever the model of restraint, he moves on.
“I could be convinced,” he says, “to offer your kingdom some measure of protection. Nothing infallible, of course – we have <I>rules</i>, don’t we? – but something. A bit of help.”
He steps closer. He smiles, as if there is no hatred burning off his son.
“There was a kingdom,” he says, “a place called Pangea. It was my kingdom, for a time, but when I left Beqanna cast it away, off into the sea. I want you to go to its remains, and bring me back a piece – a mouthful of dirt, a rock, whatever you can carry. Something physical. Do that, and I’ll help you with your protection.”
Before Warrick can point out the obvious – Pangea is underwater – Carnage addresses it.
“Of course, it might be a bit...difficult to reach. I can help with that, too. I’ll give you the power to survive underwater, for a little while. All you have to do is kneel, and it will be granted.”
He looks at his son, his wine-dark eyes fever-bright, barely containing their glee.
“Go ahead, then,” he says, “my offer won’t last forever.”
<p class="carnage_name">c a r n a g e</p></div></div></center>
@[Warrick]