<center><style> #wouldjalookitthat {background-image:url('https://s10.postimg.org/t7q5x5hqh/forspink1.png'); width: 500px; height: 305px;} #promiscuousboooiii {background-image: url('https://s18.postimg.org/v4pxdeow9/darktexture.jpg'); width: 500px; padding: 15px; border: 1px solid rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.3); box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px black; transition: 3s;} #promiscuousboooiii:hover {box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #463939;} .tellmehowtheygotthatprettylittlefaceonthatprettylittlefraaame {border: 1px solid rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.3); width: 500px;} .woooohooo {font-style: italic; line-height: 10pt; width: 400px; font-family: times; font-size: 9pt; position: relative; top: 270px; width: 400px; border-top: 1px solid rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.3); border-bottom: rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.3) solid 1px; color: #e7d7d5; transition: 3s; padding: 5px;} .woooohooo:hover {padding: 5px; border-bottom: 1px solid rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.1); border-top: 1px solid rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.1); color: rgba(231, 215, 213, 0);} #youcanrunfree {font-style: italic; line-height: 10pt; width: 400px; font-family: times; font-size: 15pt; width: 400px; border-top: 1px solid rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.3); border-bottom: rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.3) solid 1px; color: #e7d7d5; transition: 3s; padding: 5px; margin-top: 35px; margin-bottom: 5px;} #youcanrunfree:hover {padding: 5px; border-bottom: 1px solid rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.1); border-top: 1px solid rgba(70, 57, 57, 0.1); color: rgba(231, 215, 213, 0);}</style> <div id="promiscuousboooiii"><div class="tellmehowtheygotthatprettylittlefaceonthatprettylittlefraaame"><div id="wouldjalookitthat"><center><div class="woooohooo">let me pick your brain, girl.<br>and tell me how they got that pretty little face on that pretty little frame.</div></center></div> <div style="color: #463939; width: 460px; padding: 20px; text-align: justify; font-family: times; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 12pt; margin-top: 10px;">
The page was blank. She could not move. How long she was like that, she could not tell. Time was of no factor in his world - he was the creator. The Author and finisher of her faith... and apparently her story. She found that even her mind was blank - she was not even permitted to have her own thoughts that were not his, or that he did not give her.
Ceara could not even snort out her frustration - she didn't have any.
<i>I can give you power, you know.</i> A disembodied voice sounds in her head. Ceara is unable to look around. Her world is white. A voice of nothingness. <b>"Who is that? Where am I?!"</b> Ceara screamed - but it lacked all emotion, for the author had not written her any. So her voice, while elevated, lacked conviction, power, and anger. In truth, she was simply...<i>blah</i>. <i>I can give you power, you know....</i> Ceara snorted, but it lacked emotion. Was she frustrated? Happy? Angry? <b>"I know. You said that. What do you expect me to do about it?"</b>
And then the voice sounded even more disembodied, and carried an echo that carried it someplace else... further way, to another page, as if a part of the story was being written ahead of her, and she had to chase it down. It spoke again, ethereal and quiet. <i>"I can give you power, you know....but you have to find me... Ceara."</i> Ceara rolled her eyes. How was she supposed to find this power if she couldn't even move? <i>I can give you power, you know....see you soooon!"</i>
And then, all at once, she felt the stroke of a pencil, and then her world begins to expand again and instead of a blank, two-dimensional page, the color begins to seep back in. Ceara stretches out her neck, her black mane falling down over her face as she moves her legs - finally able to put down the leg that had been frozen up in mid air. She groaned aloud, shook out her pelt, waving her tail like a flag behind her. When all at once, her peace came to an end. her tail scraped up against a wall, and she looked around at her surroundings.
Unable to completely turn around, Ceara looked around to her to see that she was stuck inside some sort of foreign box. A notation - the move of a pencil, and the warm heat of the sun - the desk lamp once again - and Ceara feels a smile coming from the heavens. <i>Enjoy getting out of this one, Little One</i> it almost says to her.
<i>What will you do? What story will you write?</i>
Ceara notes the planks of dead trees that are unnaturally stacked on top of each other, shaped to perfecton and fastened together with small stones that held them in place. A half door opened up, and Ceara looked outside to see a row of these trees growing sideways, all unnaturally stacked together like puzzle pieces. This was foreign to her. She didn't like it. her walls were a tawny brown color - a color she could identify with, as it reminded her of Levi, and she looked at it, and was immediately frustrated again. Ceara kicked at the structure, and it sounded hollow to her ears, which went flat and backward with frustration - first at the reality that her emotions were being controlled, and secondly that the God seemed to relish in the fact that she was frustrated. Like he wanted to see her dance. This, above all, did not make her happy. This was so unnatural. Trees did not grow this way. And they did not permanently affix to to stone. Ceara snorted and then let out a loud whinny as she kicked at the walls. She needed freedom. A creature was not meant to be contained in a box. <i>It does things to you.</i>
Her eyes saw red then as she snorted, her eyes flaring. She was part draft, her large legs and hooves carried an innate strength that she hardly ever used - she never needed to. but after repeated kicks, the wood begins to give way, splintering and cracking with a loud whipping noise. The rush of fresh air seeps into the space when the wall began to give way, and this further incensed the black beauty.
She was almost there.
<i>Just...one...more...kick...</i>
And with one last crack, the cross-beam that supported the wall and held it together splintered apart, the force of which sent Ceara tumbling backwards. The broken wood was jagged and sharp, and Ceara's mighty back legs stood no chance against the shard. Like a knife, a large piece of cross beam cut into her back left leg, and she let out a yell of pain, but when she came tumbling out of that unnatural box - she would learn later that it was called a <i>stable</i> - she landed unnaturally in a grass field. The adrenaline rush was so great, that though she was openly bleeding with a piece of the wall still stuck in her lower leg, once she righted herself, she ran. And she could not stop running. And then saw a white fence. The voice sounded in her head again, further away, but more permanent now, as if it had been given a body... flesh... paragraphs and words. <i>I can give you power....but you have to come find me... see you sooooon!"</i>
A white fence.
A white fence was not going to stop Ceara, who was trailing blood as she ran, unable to feel the pain as all she felt was anger at being abandoned by her brother and the man she thought she loved. She stopped, examined this fence, and snorted, turning her body and running to the other side of this field.... surely there must be another way out..
And that's when she came to the other side of the world... where there was more white fence. FUCK THE GODS, MORE FENCES?! Ceara ran around the pasture like a madwoman, not quite coming to grips with the act that the pasture was actually an enclosed fenced space behind the barn where she was being kept. Ceara attempted to put weight on her back leg, but finding herself unable, knew that jumping was not going to happen today. But the racket she was making had woken up two sleeping grooms who had been taking a nap in the hay pile, and they came out in a sleepy, if not drunken stupor - given the way their eyes were glassy and their noses were red <i>(or the fact that they left their half open flasks pouring all over the hay upon which they had been snoozing, but the Author makes a note to get back to that little tidbit later)</i> - armed with ropes and angry faces.
They cursed at her, throwing up their arms in an attempt to calm her down, and get closer to her. All it did was make her more angry, but with a hurt leg, It was all Ceara could do not to turn them around and remind her just <i>who</i> was in charge here. Certainly not these two legged fools with baggy pelts and weird looking manes. They spoke to each other in tones she could not understand, laughing and snorting jovially in a way that made Ceara feel threatened, and she backed up against the hay room, feeling cornered - feeling angry. She made a grunt, and shook her head no in an attempt to communicate with these daffy fools, but it was to no avail. They thought they owned everything. They were probably the ones who built these DAMN fences and told these trees to lay unnaturally with little squares all in a row. That little voice went off in her head again, and once again, Ceara was seeing red. She had to get out of here, had to find that voice. Had to make it shut up. <i>Can't you say anything useful, If you want me to get to you so badly?</i>
<i>"There's a burning kerosene lantern on a shelf above the hay bales.. Kick it."</i>
<b>"What's a Kerosene?"</b>
<i>"Its a fuel.."</i>
<b>"What's fuel?"</b>
<i>"It's a...never mind. Just kicked the wall behind you, and for God sakes make it good."</i>
<b>"And why should I listen to you?"</b>
<i>"Because I'm your only way out of here. Now just DO IT!"</i>
Of course these flabby skin sacks had no idea what the exchange was going on in front of them - all they saw was a plain black mare snorting and wuffling to herself, looking quite insane. What would they have looked like if they had understood that she was talking to an ethereal being and that none of this really existed, and that they were merely two pawns dancing about for the merriment of a god that referred to himself as <i>Author</i>?
Ceara's bum was backed up against this section of the barn - for that is what these side ways trees are called - and as she limps backwards, toward it, she wonders how this being knows what is inside this building - she cannot see a door. But these grooms get closer to her, making loops out of their rope and sending them swinging wide in circles around her. She has not come this far to be put back in a box. <i>It does things to you.</i>
She flare her nostrils, winces - gathers up what strength she feels she has left, and sends the shack rumbling with the strength of her legs. The unseen lamp falls off the shelf where it was happily burning, and lands on top of the hay bales that had been soaked in Alcohol. Ceara feels an ethereal mischievous smile raining down on her from above, and the heat lamp surges over her face, - only this time it is not the heat lamp. The two men who had managed to corner her throw their hats and their ropes on the ground and rush around through the side door of the shack, and cursing and yelling at each other.
The Author sits back, watching the chaos in all its glory as he crosses his arms and watches with a satisfied grin as Ceara has managed to set the entire barn blazing, including the fence that it was attached to There is much yelling, and much more neighing as other horses are running around with their manes and tails on fire, and Ceara screeches when she realizes she no longer has the ability to shut the fire off. The blaze sets the fence around her on fire, and she rushes directly for it, hearing a bell frantically peeling behind her and the siren of 4 fire engines that have come to examine the emergency.
The sky is red with panic, heat, and smoke as Ceara bum-rushes the fence again, stopping when she realizes it is on fire. <i>What am I supposed to do now, oh crazy voice from page whateverthefuckyouare?"</i>
She waits. nothing.
<i>So you're going to leave me here?</i>
Nothing.
The fence is on fire, the blaze threatens to engulf her as it takes over the entire barn, horses are still rushing this way and that, bounding over the fence blindly in an effort to get away from it. Ceara's leg still hurts, and is still bleeding. She can't make the jump. <i>Fuck</i>. The flesh sacks are back, screaming at her angrily now as they are running to her, threatening her freedom once again. <i>There's no way in hell.</i>
Ceara rushes the fence, kicking dirt back in the eyes of her captors as she leaps over the fence, screaming as the fire licks her chest, her tummy, and the inside of her loins. She lands ungracefully, turning with a humanized smirk as she flashes a black tail at them, before turning around and disappearing into the woods.
The sun has gone down and the pages once again begin whirring passed her as shadows of trees, which slow down of their own accord and change into the most particular shade of blue. <i>I can give you power, you know..."</i> The voice has returned to its same repetitive message. and it sounds like it's getting closer.
This place, wherever she was, was forcing her to slow down.... the pages were slowing, and she looked around. A wintery, forest, dressed in a gown of fog. The stillness was so picturesque, it almost seemed like it was meant to be an enchanted forest. And behind the trunk, she sees two eyes. And a little hat. She cannot see what it is yet, exactly, but she hears the voice again, this time, out loud. <i>"I can give you power, you know...welcome, Ceara. I hope your journey was pleasant."</i> Ceara stopped, ready to open her mouth and tell this little <i>whatever</i> just what she thought of his games, but she looked down and saw that her toes were changed. she was shorter, slimmer....She shook her head, her mane getting caught up around her forehead....tangled up... around a black.... spiraled...
<b>"AAHHH!! HORN?! WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?"</b>
And here she was, a typical unicorn, black as night, stuck in an enchanted forest.... like this was sort of goddamned fairy tale.
Her life was anything but a fairy tale.
And yet, the Author leaned back, crossing his arms, seemingly satisfied with his creation.
If he had given her an extra toe, Ceara had half a mind to show him her middle one.
Because this fucking sucked.
<center><div id="youcanrunfree">ceara</div><div style="font-size: 5pt; font-family: helvetica, arial, verdana; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; text-shadow: -1px -1px black, -1px -1px black;">offspring x reagan, smoke healing & fire negation</center></div></div></center>
WC: 2,260
TL;DR.
Ceara Kicks the back wall of the stable open, hurt her back left leg, which opens up into an enclosed pasture/paddock area. She wakes up two grooms who passed out drunk on the job. Ceara set the barn on fire, jumped the fence and burned herself, before running into an enchanted forest, turning into a black cloven hoofed unicorn with a black traditional horn and tale of a unicorn. She thinks she is hearing voices (It's a yet to be fully seen goblin, who is hiding in the trees and fog), and she's generally pretty angry with life right now
Obstacle 1: Kicking the Wall open
Obstacle 2: The fence.
Obstacle 3: Drunk, angry grooms.
Obstacle 4: Burning barn, fence on fire.
The page was blank. She could not move. How long she was like that, she could not tell. Time was of no factor in his world - he was the creator. The Author and finisher of her faith... and apparently her story. She found that even her mind was blank - she was not even permitted to have her own thoughts that were not his, or that he did not give her.
Ceara could not even snort out her frustration - she didn't have any.
<i>I can give you power, you know.</i> A disembodied voice sounds in her head. Ceara is unable to look around. Her world is white. A voice of nothingness. <b>"Who is that? Where am I?!"</b> Ceara screamed - but it lacked all emotion, for the author had not written her any. So her voice, while elevated, lacked conviction, power, and anger. In truth, she was simply...<i>blah</i>. <i>I can give you power, you know....</i> Ceara snorted, but it lacked emotion. Was she frustrated? Happy? Angry? <b>"I know. You said that. What do you expect me to do about it?"</b>
And then the voice sounded even more disembodied, and carried an echo that carried it someplace else... further way, to another page, as if a part of the story was being written ahead of her, and she had to chase it down. It spoke again, ethereal and quiet. <i>"I can give you power, you know....but you have to find me... Ceara."</i> Ceara rolled her eyes. How was she supposed to find this power if she couldn't even move? <i>I can give you power, you know....see you soooon!"</i>
And then, all at once, she felt the stroke of a pencil, and then her world begins to expand again and instead of a blank, two-dimensional page, the color begins to seep back in. Ceara stretches out her neck, her black mane falling down over her face as she moves her legs - finally able to put down the leg that had been frozen up in mid air. She groaned aloud, shook out her pelt, waving her tail like a flag behind her. When all at once, her peace came to an end. her tail scraped up against a wall, and she looked around at her surroundings.
Unable to completely turn around, Ceara looked around to her to see that she was stuck inside some sort of foreign box. A notation - the move of a pencil, and the warm heat of the sun - the desk lamp once again - and Ceara feels a smile coming from the heavens. <i>Enjoy getting out of this one, Little One</i> it almost says to her.
<i>What will you do? What story will you write?</i>
Ceara notes the planks of dead trees that are unnaturally stacked on top of each other, shaped to perfecton and fastened together with small stones that held them in place. A half door opened up, and Ceara looked outside to see a row of these trees growing sideways, all unnaturally stacked together like puzzle pieces. This was foreign to her. She didn't like it. her walls were a tawny brown color - a color she could identify with, as it reminded her of Levi, and she looked at it, and was immediately frustrated again. Ceara kicked at the structure, and it sounded hollow to her ears, which went flat and backward with frustration - first at the reality that her emotions were being controlled, and secondly that the God seemed to relish in the fact that she was frustrated. Like he wanted to see her dance. This, above all, did not make her happy. This was so unnatural. Trees did not grow this way. And they did not permanently affix to to stone. Ceara snorted and then let out a loud whinny as she kicked at the walls. She needed freedom. A creature was not meant to be contained in a box. <i>It does things to you.</i>
Her eyes saw red then as she snorted, her eyes flaring. She was part draft, her large legs and hooves carried an innate strength that she hardly ever used - she never needed to. but after repeated kicks, the wood begins to give way, splintering and cracking with a loud whipping noise. The rush of fresh air seeps into the space when the wall began to give way, and this further incensed the black beauty.
She was almost there.
<i>Just...one...more...kick...</i>
And with one last crack, the cross-beam that supported the wall and held it together splintered apart, the force of which sent Ceara tumbling backwards. The broken wood was jagged and sharp, and Ceara's mighty back legs stood no chance against the shard. Like a knife, a large piece of cross beam cut into her back left leg, and she let out a yell of pain, but when she came tumbling out of that unnatural box - she would learn later that it was called a <i>stable</i> - she landed unnaturally in a grass field. The adrenaline rush was so great, that though she was openly bleeding with a piece of the wall still stuck in her lower leg, once she righted herself, she ran. And she could not stop running. And then saw a white fence. The voice sounded in her head again, further away, but more permanent now, as if it had been given a body... flesh... paragraphs and words. <i>I can give you power....but you have to come find me... see you sooooon!"</i>
A white fence.
A white fence was not going to stop Ceara, who was trailing blood as she ran, unable to feel the pain as all she felt was anger at being abandoned by her brother and the man she thought she loved. She stopped, examined this fence, and snorted, turning her body and running to the other side of this field.... surely there must be another way out..
And that's when she came to the other side of the world... where there was more white fence. FUCK THE GODS, MORE FENCES?! Ceara ran around the pasture like a madwoman, not quite coming to grips with the act that the pasture was actually an enclosed fenced space behind the barn where she was being kept. Ceara attempted to put weight on her back leg, but finding herself unable, knew that jumping was not going to happen today. But the racket she was making had woken up two sleeping grooms who had been taking a nap in the hay pile, and they came out in a sleepy, if not drunken stupor - given the way their eyes were glassy and their noses were red <i>(or the fact that they left their half open flasks pouring all over the hay upon which they had been snoozing, but the Author makes a note to get back to that little tidbit later)</i> - armed with ropes and angry faces.
They cursed at her, throwing up their arms in an attempt to calm her down, and get closer to her. All it did was make her more angry, but with a hurt leg, It was all Ceara could do not to turn them around and remind her just <i>who</i> was in charge here. Certainly not these two legged fools with baggy pelts and weird looking manes. They spoke to each other in tones she could not understand, laughing and snorting jovially in a way that made Ceara feel threatened, and she backed up against the hay room, feeling cornered - feeling angry. She made a grunt, and shook her head no in an attempt to communicate with these daffy fools, but it was to no avail. They thought they owned everything. They were probably the ones who built these DAMN fences and told these trees to lay unnaturally with little squares all in a row. That little voice went off in her head again, and once again, Ceara was seeing red. She had to get out of here, had to find that voice. Had to make it shut up. <i>Can't you say anything useful, If you want me to get to you so badly?</i>
<i>"There's a burning kerosene lantern on a shelf above the hay bales.. Kick it."</i>
<b>"What's a Kerosene?"</b>
<i>"Its a fuel.."</i>
<b>"What's fuel?"</b>
<i>"It's a...never mind. Just kicked the wall behind you, and for God sakes make it good."</i>
<b>"And why should I listen to you?"</b>
<i>"Because I'm your only way out of here. Now just DO IT!"</i>
Of course these flabby skin sacks had no idea what the exchange was going on in front of them - all they saw was a plain black mare snorting and wuffling to herself, looking quite insane. What would they have looked like if they had understood that she was talking to an ethereal being and that none of this really existed, and that they were merely two pawns dancing about for the merriment of a god that referred to himself as <i>Author</i>?
Ceara's bum was backed up against this section of the barn - for that is what these side ways trees are called - and as she limps backwards, toward it, she wonders how this being knows what is inside this building - she cannot see a door. But these grooms get closer to her, making loops out of their rope and sending them swinging wide in circles around her. She has not come this far to be put back in a box. <i>It does things to you.</i>
She flare her nostrils, winces - gathers up what strength she feels she has left, and sends the shack rumbling with the strength of her legs. The unseen lamp falls off the shelf where it was happily burning, and lands on top of the hay bales that had been soaked in Alcohol. Ceara feels an ethereal mischievous smile raining down on her from above, and the heat lamp surges over her face, - only this time it is not the heat lamp. The two men who had managed to corner her throw their hats and their ropes on the ground and rush around through the side door of the shack, and cursing and yelling at each other.
The Author sits back, watching the chaos in all its glory as he crosses his arms and watches with a satisfied grin as Ceara has managed to set the entire barn blazing, including the fence that it was attached to There is much yelling, and much more neighing as other horses are running around with their manes and tails on fire, and Ceara screeches when she realizes she no longer has the ability to shut the fire off. The blaze sets the fence around her on fire, and she rushes directly for it, hearing a bell frantically peeling behind her and the siren of 4 fire engines that have come to examine the emergency.
The sky is red with panic, heat, and smoke as Ceara bum-rushes the fence again, stopping when she realizes it is on fire. <i>What am I supposed to do now, oh crazy voice from page whateverthefuckyouare?"</i>
She waits. nothing.
<i>So you're going to leave me here?</i>
Nothing.
The fence is on fire, the blaze threatens to engulf her as it takes over the entire barn, horses are still rushing this way and that, bounding over the fence blindly in an effort to get away from it. Ceara's leg still hurts, and is still bleeding. She can't make the jump. <i>Fuck</i>. The flesh sacks are back, screaming at her angrily now as they are running to her, threatening her freedom once again. <i>There's no way in hell.</i>
Ceara rushes the fence, kicking dirt back in the eyes of her captors as she leaps over the fence, screaming as the fire licks her chest, her tummy, and the inside of her loins. She lands ungracefully, turning with a humanized smirk as she flashes a black tail at them, before turning around and disappearing into the woods.
The sun has gone down and the pages once again begin whirring passed her as shadows of trees, which slow down of their own accord and change into the most particular shade of blue. <i>I can give you power, you know..."</i> The voice has returned to its same repetitive message. and it sounds like it's getting closer.
This place, wherever she was, was forcing her to slow down.... the pages were slowing, and she looked around. A wintery, forest, dressed in a gown of fog. The stillness was so picturesque, it almost seemed like it was meant to be an enchanted forest. And behind the trunk, she sees two eyes. And a little hat. She cannot see what it is yet, exactly, but she hears the voice again, this time, out loud. <i>"I can give you power, you know...welcome, Ceara. I hope your journey was pleasant."</i> Ceara stopped, ready to open her mouth and tell this little <i>whatever</i> just what she thought of his games, but she looked down and saw that her toes were changed. she was shorter, slimmer....She shook her head, her mane getting caught up around her forehead....tangled up... around a black.... spiraled...
<b>"AAHHH!! HORN?! WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?"</b>
And here she was, a typical unicorn, black as night, stuck in an enchanted forest.... like this was sort of goddamned fairy tale.
Her life was anything but a fairy tale.
And yet, the Author leaned back, crossing his arms, seemingly satisfied with his creation.
If he had given her an extra toe, Ceara had half a mind to show him her middle one.
Because this fucking sucked.
<center><div id="youcanrunfree">ceara</div><div style="font-size: 5pt; font-family: helvetica, arial, verdana; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; text-shadow: -1px -1px black, -1px -1px black;">offspring x reagan, smoke healing & fire negation</center></div></div></center>
WC: 2,260
TL;DR.
Ceara Kicks the back wall of the stable open, hurt her back left leg, which opens up into an enclosed pasture/paddock area. She wakes up two grooms who passed out drunk on the job. Ceara set the barn on fire, jumped the fence and burned herself, before running into an enchanted forest, turning into a black cloven hoofed unicorn with a black traditional horn and tale of a unicorn. She thinks she is hearing voices (It's a yet to be fully seen goblin, who is hiding in the trees and fog), and she's generally pretty angry with life right now
Obstacle 1: Kicking the Wall open
Obstacle 2: The fence.
Obstacle 3: Drunk, angry grooms.
Obstacle 4: Burning barn, fence on fire.