<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel|Playfair+Display+SC" rel="stylesheet"><style type="text/css">.toni_background {background-image: url('http://i47.tinypic.com/34imxeh.jpg'); width: 510px; border: 10px double black; box-shadow: 0px 20px 50px black inset; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;} .toni_container {position: relative;z-index: 1; background-color: #141414;width: 500px;border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;border: solid gray;}.toni_container p {margin: 0;}.toni_image {position:relative;z-index:2;width: 500px; border-radius: 0px 00px 0px 0px;}.toni_gradient {position: relative;z-index: 3;top:-25px;width: 500px;height: 25px;background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%, rgba(20,20,20,1) 100%);background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(20,20,20,1) 100%);background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(20,20,20,1) 100%);filter;padding:0px;margin:0px;}.toni_message {position:relative;z-index:0;background-color:#141414;text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif;padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px;;color:#adadad;border-radius: 0px 0px 18px 18px;}.toni_title {position: relative; z-index: 10000; text-align:center; top: 8px; color: #000;font-size:12px;font:12px 'Cinzel';letter-spacing:0xp; text-shadow:0px 0px 0.0000001px #fff;}.toni_quote {position: relative; z-index: 10000; text-align:center; margin-bottom:5px;color: #141414;font-size:50px;font:30px 'Cinzel';letter-spacing:1px;text-shadow:0px 0px 8px #8c8c8c;} </style><center><div class="toni_background"><div class="toni_container"><img class="toni_image" src="https://78.media.tumblr.com/75cd7f437af9a0f3883992643a9f4c46/tumblr_nsvwwcIGiE1si8ep5o1_500.gif"><div class="toni_gradient"><div class="toni_title">there was a heaven in you</br>but god there's a devil in me</div></div><div class="toni_message">The sea of white around him begins to move - swirling and swirling and biting with every passing breath - and wearily he attempts to keep his eyelids from fluttering closed, lifting his chin to attempt to see through the blinding whiteness. For a moment he believes his request will go unanswered, the fairies leaving him to silence just like the stars he still continues to stare up into in the night sky. He had come all this way for nothing, he muses bitterly, wondering if the frost has started to slowly kill him with numbness and the slowing of his once-warm blood. Then, just as this thought flutters into his mind, the flurries literally freeze in midair. It’s a beautiful sight to behold - as if time itself had become frozen from the sheer temperatures, but Warrick knew better.
He was no longer alone.
An equine approaches him - steel grey against the white of the world around them - and a curious snort escapes Warrick’s iced nostrils. The figure is unfamiliar <i>(though somehow familiar all the same)</i> but it is the voice that is inescapably familiar to Warrick. The numbness of his mouth still somehow allows a distasteful grimace to form there, his ears falling back into the frozen threads of his mane. <i>Carnage,</i> he recognizes, though he does not say the name of his father out loud. Warrick does not step away from Carnage, but his posture leans away from the other stallion, obviously stricken with dissatisfaction.
Warrick’s gaze sweeps away from the stallion momentarily, searching the stand still of ice and snow as if another would appear from its depths so that he would have another choice.
<i>Beqanna is not listening, but I am.</i>
The navy-tipped stallion flickers his ocean eyes towards Carnage once again, curving his neck slightly and wrinkling his nostrils. Meeting the dark-god face to face in the meadow gave Warrick plenty of insight on who it is exactly he shares his bloodline with. There was no listening for the sake of listening - Carnage would not let his request go answered easily. He wonders what kind of twisted scheme is already playing in the stallion’s head, but Warrick knows it is too late for him to leave the mountain empty-handed.
And he already did that once in his lifetime. He wouldn’t allow it again, even if it meant bargaining with the devil himself.
<b>“My kingdom,”</b> he replies with a slight cold quiver of his otherwise sturdy voice, a thrust of his chin upwards. <B>“I cannot protect it.”</b> He could go on - explain his reasonings, his tribulations, his worries - but he knows that the dark god cares not for any kind of heartfelt details.
</br></br><div class="toni_quote">WARRICK</div></div></div></div></center>
@[Carnage]
He was no longer alone.
An equine approaches him - steel grey against the white of the world around them - and a curious snort escapes Warrick’s iced nostrils. The figure is unfamiliar <i>(though somehow familiar all the same)</i> but it is the voice that is inescapably familiar to Warrick. The numbness of his mouth still somehow allows a distasteful grimace to form there, his ears falling back into the frozen threads of his mane. <i>Carnage,</i> he recognizes, though he does not say the name of his father out loud. Warrick does not step away from Carnage, but his posture leans away from the other stallion, obviously stricken with dissatisfaction.
Warrick’s gaze sweeps away from the stallion momentarily, searching the stand still of ice and snow as if another would appear from its depths so that he would have another choice.
<i>Beqanna is not listening, but I am.</i>
The navy-tipped stallion flickers his ocean eyes towards Carnage once again, curving his neck slightly and wrinkling his nostrils. Meeting the dark-god face to face in the meadow gave Warrick plenty of insight on who it is exactly he shares his bloodline with. There was no listening for the sake of listening - Carnage would not let his request go answered easily. He wonders what kind of twisted scheme is already playing in the stallion’s head, but Warrick knows it is too late for him to leave the mountain empty-handed.
And he already did that once in his lifetime. He wouldn’t allow it again, even if it meant bargaining with the devil himself.
<b>“My kingdom,”</b> he replies with a slight cold quiver of his otherwise sturdy voice, a thrust of his chin upwards. <B>“I cannot protect it.”</b> He could go on - explain his reasonings, his tribulations, his worries - but he knows that the dark god cares not for any kind of heartfelt details.
</br></br><div class="toni_quote">WARRICK</div></div></div></div></center>
@[Carnage]