09-01-2020, 04:57 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-01-2020, 04:59 PM by Blasphemare.)
<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">
She could feel Carnage’s disgust and intrigue. She could taste it on her lips and hear it in her ears and see it in her eyes and smell it in her nose, but try as she might, she could not rouse those emotions in herself, though she knows they would have been there if the hunger had not eaten them from inside her mind. She stands there, almost shell shocked, but unable to feel that, watching without emotion as everything around her contorted into weird shapes and images. This world was strange, that was for sure.
<br><br>
The old mare finds herself waiting, for what she could not have said, but wait she did. She grew almost impatient–if she could actually grow impatient anymore. And then the creatures arrived, or at least made their presence visible to the new arrivals. Though visible wasn’t exactly what she would call it, for they flashed into existence and moved with a speed that made viewing them nearly impossible.
<br><br>They moved with a purpose. They moved to attack. Where Blasphemare should have felt fear, she felt nothing, so she stood her ground as the creatures attacked. It was painful, but somehow she knew that this would not be the end. The creatures ripped into her, taking flesh and bone alike. Yet still she stood, as still as a statue, waiting for the end. Their hunger is thick in the air and feels a great deal like the hunger that had stolen her emotions.
<br><br>They rip into her and the others, and she hears screams all around her, screams that should have elicited panic or at least some fear, but there is nothing, nothing but pain as they take her piece by piece. Had they tricked Carnage? Had they intended him to send them here so they could feast on the flesh of other worldly beings? These were questions she pondered as the pain continued to grow, as they continued to rip into her flesh.
<br><br>She had all but given up on life. Carnage would surely leave them here. That was his nature. But then she felt it. She felt his presence, even more than just in her head, but surrounding her, encasing her in a magical field that rips her back out of the hungry hole, rips her back through the afterlife, pulls her back to the beach in which her body lay, twisted and mangled upon the ground. She watches without feeling as he stitches her back together and puts her back into her body. And then she was breathing once more.
<br><br>She should have felt relief, maybe even gratitude toward the stallion that should have left them there, but she felt nothing. She felt nothing as she watched Carnage breathe life back into the rest of the bodies that had fallen this day. She felt nothing as she reached for her magic and felt it still gone. She felt nothing as she did a mental scan of her body and found it all there, weak but there. She felt nothing, and she should have worried what effects this might have on the growing foal within her, but she felt nothing there, either. She simply felt nothing.
</div><p class="blasphemare_red_quote">Like a fine, aged wine</p></div></center>
She could feel Carnage’s disgust and intrigue. She could taste it on her lips and hear it in her ears and see it in her eyes and smell it in her nose, but try as she might, she could not rouse those emotions in herself, though she knows they would have been there if the hunger had not eaten them from inside her mind. She stands there, almost shell shocked, but unable to feel that, watching without emotion as everything around her contorted into weird shapes and images. This world was strange, that was for sure.
<br><br>
The old mare finds herself waiting, for what she could not have said, but wait she did. She grew almost impatient–if she could actually grow impatient anymore. And then the creatures arrived, or at least made their presence visible to the new arrivals. Though visible wasn’t exactly what she would call it, for they flashed into existence and moved with a speed that made viewing them nearly impossible.
<br><br>They moved with a purpose. They moved to attack. Where Blasphemare should have felt fear, she felt nothing, so she stood her ground as the creatures attacked. It was painful, but somehow she knew that this would not be the end. The creatures ripped into her, taking flesh and bone alike. Yet still she stood, as still as a statue, waiting for the end. Their hunger is thick in the air and feels a great deal like the hunger that had stolen her emotions.
<br><br>They rip into her and the others, and she hears screams all around her, screams that should have elicited panic or at least some fear, but there is nothing, nothing but pain as they take her piece by piece. Had they tricked Carnage? Had they intended him to send them here so they could feast on the flesh of other worldly beings? These were questions she pondered as the pain continued to grow, as they continued to rip into her flesh.
<br><br>She had all but given up on life. Carnage would surely leave them here. That was his nature. But then she felt it. She felt his presence, even more than just in her head, but surrounding her, encasing her in a magical field that rips her back out of the hungry hole, rips her back through the afterlife, pulls her back to the beach in which her body lay, twisted and mangled upon the ground. She watches without feeling as he stitches her back together and puts her back into her body. And then she was breathing once more.
<br><br>She should have felt relief, maybe even gratitude toward the stallion that should have left them there, but she felt nothing. She felt nothing as she watched Carnage breathe life back into the rest of the bodies that had fallen this day. She felt nothing as she reached for her magic and felt it still gone. She felt nothing as she did a mental scan of her body and found it all there, weak but there. She felt nothing, and she should have worried what effects this might have on the growing foal within her, but she felt nothing there, either. She simply felt nothing.
</div><p class="blasphemare_red_quote">Like a fine, aged wine</p></div></center>