08-08-2020, 09:12 PM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Libre+Baskerville|Nothing+You+Could+Do&display=swap" rel="stylesheet"><style type="text/css">.blasphemare_red_container {position:relative;z-index:2;width: 500px;background: #9d0401 url('https://i.imgur.com/3JtH0io.jpg');border-radius: 250px 250px 80px 80px;border: 1px solid #091518;box-shadow: 0 0 10px #091518;}.blasphemare_red_message{position: relative;z-index: 10;width: 90%;padding: 25px 20px 25px 20px;box-sizing: border-box;background: rgba(29, 1, 0, 0.7);text-align: justify;color:#f0f4f7;font: 12px 'Libre Baskerville', serif;text-shadow: 0 0 1px #282525;border-radius: 50px;margin-bottom: 10px;}.blasphemare_red_name {position: relative;z-index: 15;top: 70px;color: #f0f4f7;font: 56px 'Nothing You Could Do', serif;text-shadow: 0 0 2px #091518, 0 0 10px #091518;letter-spacing: 8px;}.blasphemare_red_quote {position: relative;z-index: 15;color: #282525;padding: 5px 0;font: 12px 'Nothing You Could Do', serif;text-transform: uppercase;letter-spacing: 2px;text-shadow: 0 0 2px #000;}</style><center><div class="blasphemare_red_container"><p class="blasphemare_red_name">blasphemare</p><div class="blasphemare_red_message">
He barely responds to her taunting, but that’s more than she expected. He, of course, would not join them, as he is too good for that, the almighty Carnage. He kills her without a second thought, which is just as much as she did expect from him.
<br><br>As more join her, Blasphemare looks around, her blood-colored eyes sizing up the crowd that just keeps growing around her. Before her was the Pegasus, whose wings were ripped gruesomely from her body. After her came a young little thing, and thankfully, the beast gives her a quick death. The next was a young colt, though this one slightly older than the little thing that came before him. The young things continue to appear, as another filly appears, this one destined for rats to practically eat her from the inside out. Carnage allows the next mare to be consumed by the her own radioactivity. Then a stallion rips himself to shreds. The next stallion burns alive. Another stallion gets ripped to shreds, not unlike how Blasphemare had been torn apart. An old mare came forth next, and Carnage rips the wood from her body. It was the next little one that really bothered the old mare, for it was nothing more than a babe, and the beast stomps her into the afterlife. Another filly comes forth to be burned alive. Then another mare gets ripped from the inside out, before the next mare gets drowned by the ocean. Yet another mare dies at Carnage’s hands, this one from sound. Then finally, a stallion comes forth and dies from a bright, white light that pours from every orifice in his body.
<br><br>When it is over, sixteen of them stand as shadows upon the beach, listening for future instructions, as there isn’t much else to do now that they have died. Blasphemare quietly examines her surroundings. She wasn’t much familiar with the Beach, or at least not that she remembers. There were bones littering the sands, many buried, many worm, some fresh, not including those that had just died. All of these were grey and muted, as was the rest of the world now.
<br><br>She could hear a low buzzing, somewhat in the back of her mind, though annoying nonetheless. She shakes her head, her long, black mane sweeping over her face and neck. This does nothing, however, to make the buzzing go away, so she does her best to try to ignore it, though the sound is nearly impossible to ignore. She uses her magic to damper the sound for a time.
<br><br>Then his voice filled her ears once more, and she shifts to look at Carnage, his grey figure fitting so perfectly in with the scenery here. He explains to them what would come next, along with the buzzing that already filled her ears. Swinging her head around, she looks in the direction that they would be heading. Indeed, there was a fog, thick and ominous, though this did not scare her.
<br><br>Without hesitation, she begins her quest, moving with no creaking or cracking now that she is dead. It doesn’t take her long to move into the fog. It licks her hide gently and serenely, though she knows it hides more than the calmness that beckons her forth. Soon enough, she hears the buzzing growing louder. As she moves along, however, the buzzing grows fainter. Confused, she turns back and walks in the opposite direction, and for a time, the buzzing grows louder once more. However, soon the buzzing began to grow more dim once more, so once again, she turned in the opposite direction. She casts her magic into the fog, sensing for the buzzing, and for a time, this works, before her magic flickers and dies.
<br><br>She began to feel frantic, unsure that she would reach her destination. This was an unusual feeling for the old mare, for she had rarely ever found herself feeling frantic. So for a moment, she pauses and takes a deep breath. It was then that she began to hear the whispers. <i>If up is down, and down is up; if left is right, and right is left, then which way would be forward, and which way back?</i> This had to be a trick question.
<br><br>Carefully, Blasphemare picked her direction, and indeed, the buzzing grew louder for a time. Then it grew quieter once more, but this time, she pressed on. She pressed on and on, despite the buzzing getting lower and lower, until finally, the buzzing began to grow louder once more, and the feeling of being frantic slowly began to dwindle, though the sensation of annoyance grew, as the buzzing rattles her bones so deeply and without remorse.
<br><br>The buzzing continued to grow. It grew to the point where her bones felt as though they would rattle from her body–if you could call it that, since, you know, she’s dead now. It grew until there was nothing but that buzzing. She could almost taste the buzzing in her mouth, a dry and disgusting taste. Then finally, the fog lifts, and before her lay a cliff like nothing she had ever seen before. As she stood at the edge and looked down, she could see nothing. It was as if the world ended here. And there she stood, waiting.
</div><p class="blasphemare_red_quote">like a fine, aged wine</p></div></center>
He barely responds to her taunting, but that’s more than she expected. He, of course, would not join them, as he is too good for that, the almighty Carnage. He kills her without a second thought, which is just as much as she did expect from him.
<br><br>As more join her, Blasphemare looks around, her blood-colored eyes sizing up the crowd that just keeps growing around her. Before her was the Pegasus, whose wings were ripped gruesomely from her body. After her came a young little thing, and thankfully, the beast gives her a quick death. The next was a young colt, though this one slightly older than the little thing that came before him. The young things continue to appear, as another filly appears, this one destined for rats to practically eat her from the inside out. Carnage allows the next mare to be consumed by the her own radioactivity. Then a stallion rips himself to shreds. The next stallion burns alive. Another stallion gets ripped to shreds, not unlike how Blasphemare had been torn apart. An old mare came forth next, and Carnage rips the wood from her body. It was the next little one that really bothered the old mare, for it was nothing more than a babe, and the beast stomps her into the afterlife. Another filly comes forth to be burned alive. Then another mare gets ripped from the inside out, before the next mare gets drowned by the ocean. Yet another mare dies at Carnage’s hands, this one from sound. Then finally, a stallion comes forth and dies from a bright, white light that pours from every orifice in his body.
<br><br>When it is over, sixteen of them stand as shadows upon the beach, listening for future instructions, as there isn’t much else to do now that they have died. Blasphemare quietly examines her surroundings. She wasn’t much familiar with the Beach, or at least not that she remembers. There were bones littering the sands, many buried, many worm, some fresh, not including those that had just died. All of these were grey and muted, as was the rest of the world now.
<br><br>She could hear a low buzzing, somewhat in the back of her mind, though annoying nonetheless. She shakes her head, her long, black mane sweeping over her face and neck. This does nothing, however, to make the buzzing go away, so she does her best to try to ignore it, though the sound is nearly impossible to ignore. She uses her magic to damper the sound for a time.
<br><br>Then his voice filled her ears once more, and she shifts to look at Carnage, his grey figure fitting so perfectly in with the scenery here. He explains to them what would come next, along with the buzzing that already filled her ears. Swinging her head around, she looks in the direction that they would be heading. Indeed, there was a fog, thick and ominous, though this did not scare her.
<br><br>Without hesitation, she begins her quest, moving with no creaking or cracking now that she is dead. It doesn’t take her long to move into the fog. It licks her hide gently and serenely, though she knows it hides more than the calmness that beckons her forth. Soon enough, she hears the buzzing growing louder. As she moves along, however, the buzzing grows fainter. Confused, she turns back and walks in the opposite direction, and for a time, the buzzing grows louder once more. However, soon the buzzing began to grow more dim once more, so once again, she turned in the opposite direction. She casts her magic into the fog, sensing for the buzzing, and for a time, this works, before her magic flickers and dies.
<br><br>She began to feel frantic, unsure that she would reach her destination. This was an unusual feeling for the old mare, for she had rarely ever found herself feeling frantic. So for a moment, she pauses and takes a deep breath. It was then that she began to hear the whispers. <i>If up is down, and down is up; if left is right, and right is left, then which way would be forward, and which way back?</i> This had to be a trick question.
<br><br>Carefully, Blasphemare picked her direction, and indeed, the buzzing grew louder for a time. Then it grew quieter once more, but this time, she pressed on. She pressed on and on, despite the buzzing getting lower and lower, until finally, the buzzing began to grow louder once more, and the feeling of being frantic slowly began to dwindle, though the sensation of annoyance grew, as the buzzing rattles her bones so deeply and without remorse.
<br><br>The buzzing continued to grow. It grew to the point where her bones felt as though they would rattle from her body–if you could call it that, since, you know, she’s dead now. It grew until there was nothing but that buzzing. She could almost taste the buzzing in her mouth, a dry and disgusting taste. Then finally, the fog lifts, and before her lay a cliff like nothing she had ever seen before. As she stood at the edge and looked down, she could see nothing. It was as if the world ended here. And there she stood, waiting.
</div><p class="blasphemare_red_quote">like a fine, aged wine</p></div></center>