Tatter
12-07-2019, 11:41 PM
<center><style> #somuchlesscomplicated {background-image:url('http://pre14.deviantart.net/78d0/th/pre/f/2013/174/3/e/recycled_texture_background_by_sandeep_m-d6aeau9.jpg'); width: 540px; padding 20px; box-shadow: 0 0 8px #000;} #ahcallhowdoueven {background-image:url('http://i.imgur.com/PzXXcRC.gif'); width: 500px; height: 206px;padding 20px; box-shadow: 0 0 8px #000;} #crazycrazylady {background-color:#173e4f; width: 460px; padding: 20px; font: 13px 'Times New Roman', serif;text-align: justify;color: #00101f; box-shadow: 0 0 8px #000;} #tatterquote {font: 14px 'Cinzel', serif; color: #508999; text-shadow:1px 0 2px #000; background-color:#173e4f;} #tattername{position: relative; font: 25px 'Homemade Apple', cursive; color: #508999;text-shadow:1px 0 2px #000;}</style><div id="somuchlesscomplicated"><br><div id="ahcallhowdoueven"><div style="background: rgba(49,35,26,0); background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%, rgba(23,62,79,1) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%, rgba(23,62,79,1) 100%); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(23,62,79,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(23,62,79,1) 100%); padding-top: 200px; position: relative; top: 6px;"></div></div><div id="crazycrazylady"><div id="tatterquote"><center>Burn everything you love then burn the ashes.<br>In the end everything collides;<br>My childhood spat back out the monster that you see.</center></div><br> At long last the invisible barrier is broken, and Tatter stumbles into the water, washing blood, sweat, and sand from his patchwork body. A sigh of relief escapes his lips as the refreshing water cleans his wounds and soothes his aching limbs, and he lowers his head to drink from the pool. His eyes drift shut as he drinks his fill, vowing to himself that he is not going to remove himself from this pool until night falls and travel will be easier amongst the shifting sands. The water refreshes him as he drinks it in, and when he reopens his yellow eyes he is surprised to see the swirling fog surrounding him once more.
Through the fog a black mare appears, and he recognizes that they are standing on a cliff-face – she screams out a name, foreign to him, and then she is teetering, balanced on a razor blade as her hooves meet the edge of a cliff. Grimacing, he looks away; watching the black mare fall to her demise is not something he particularly wants to have replaying in his head as he tries to traverse the Deserts at night. If she is doomed to die, he cannot stop her.
As quickly as the vision of Anatomy had come, he is back in the Deserts, but no longer in the oasis he had just been resting in. The temperature has begun to drop and the hint of sunset has swept across the sands, and for a moment Tatter doesn’t notice the golden mare standing atop a dune. It is the crazed black stallion that catches his attention, lunging and screaming, and when he collides with Craft, Tatter’s eyes grow wide. Just what exactly is happening here?
He tries to move forward, to stop them, but his hooves are rooted to the sands and they make no notice of him as their battle grows bloody and ferocious. He hears the mare’s bones crack – a sound he is all too familiar with from his own gruesome murder – and she sinks to the sands beneath the black stallion, blood bubbling at her lips as she pulls in her last strangled breaths. Tatter looks to the stallion with a morbid curiosity, wondering if he’s going to deliver a final blow or just leave her to die on the sands, but he seems to have forgotten the battle entirely.
Instead he claws at his own eyes with blunted hooves, and Tatter swallows hard as blood and orange roll down the dune, the stallion screaming and pleading and so desperate it makes the painted king feel ill. He’s blinded himself, Tatter realizes as the vision begins to fade, and he blinks his eyes open to the oasis and the cool, cool water surround him.
<I>Save her,</i> something breathes in his ear, and though he glances around frantically, there is no one there to have spoken to him. <I>Which one?</i> he thinks, but before he can move he is plunged back into the visions once again, the black mare at the cliffside appearing to him first.
He moves instinctually, lunging forward over the hard-packed ground to reach the mare before she falls. “Stop!” he cries as he thunders towards her, his yellow eyes nearly as wild as her green ones. They collide in a tangle of limbs and go down hard, crashing to the ground only paces away from the edge of the cliff. Untangling himself from the stranger, he glares at her and shakes his head.
“Are you blind?” he demands, thrusting his head at the cliff beside them. “Did you not see the cliff right there? You nearly walked right off of it!” Climbing to his hooves, he realizes a softer approach might help more, but perhaps scaring her back into her right mind would help.
“Who is Aida? A child, a lover?” he asks her, voice softening. “I can help you find her, and if she’s at the bottom of these cliffs, I’m sure there’s a simpler way down.” <center><br><div id=tatterquote>Tatter.</div></center></div><br></div></center>
Through the fog a black mare appears, and he recognizes that they are standing on a cliff-face – she screams out a name, foreign to him, and then she is teetering, balanced on a razor blade as her hooves meet the edge of a cliff. Grimacing, he looks away; watching the black mare fall to her demise is not something he particularly wants to have replaying in his head as he tries to traverse the Deserts at night. If she is doomed to die, he cannot stop her.
As quickly as the vision of Anatomy had come, he is back in the Deserts, but no longer in the oasis he had just been resting in. The temperature has begun to drop and the hint of sunset has swept across the sands, and for a moment Tatter doesn’t notice the golden mare standing atop a dune. It is the crazed black stallion that catches his attention, lunging and screaming, and when he collides with Craft, Tatter’s eyes grow wide. Just what exactly is happening here?
He tries to move forward, to stop them, but his hooves are rooted to the sands and they make no notice of him as their battle grows bloody and ferocious. He hears the mare’s bones crack – a sound he is all too familiar with from his own gruesome murder – and she sinks to the sands beneath the black stallion, blood bubbling at her lips as she pulls in her last strangled breaths. Tatter looks to the stallion with a morbid curiosity, wondering if he’s going to deliver a final blow or just leave her to die on the sands, but he seems to have forgotten the battle entirely.
Instead he claws at his own eyes with blunted hooves, and Tatter swallows hard as blood and orange roll down the dune, the stallion screaming and pleading and so desperate it makes the painted king feel ill. He’s blinded himself, Tatter realizes as the vision begins to fade, and he blinks his eyes open to the oasis and the cool, cool water surround him.
<I>Save her,</i> something breathes in his ear, and though he glances around frantically, there is no one there to have spoken to him. <I>Which one?</i> he thinks, but before he can move he is plunged back into the visions once again, the black mare at the cliffside appearing to him first.
He moves instinctually, lunging forward over the hard-packed ground to reach the mare before she falls. “Stop!” he cries as he thunders towards her, his yellow eyes nearly as wild as her green ones. They collide in a tangle of limbs and go down hard, crashing to the ground only paces away from the edge of the cliff. Untangling himself from the stranger, he glares at her and shakes his head.
“Are you blind?” he demands, thrusting his head at the cliff beside them. “Did you not see the cliff right there? You nearly walked right off of it!” Climbing to his hooves, he realizes a softer approach might help more, but perhaps scaring her back into her right mind would help.
“Who is Aida? A child, a lover?” he asks her, voice softening. “I can help you find her, and if she’s at the bottom of these cliffs, I’m sure there’s a simpler way down.” <center><br><div id=tatterquote>Tatter.</div></center></div><br></div></center>