08-17-2020, 07:29 PM
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alegreya+SC' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><style type="text/css">.carnage_container{position:relative;z-index:1;width:460px;font:12px 'Times New Roman', serif;background:#040308 url('http://web.qx.net/zamora/stars-notdistorted.png');border-radius:300px 300px 0 0;border:1px solid #000;box-shadow:0 0 10px #000;}.carnage_container p{margin:0;}.carnage_container img{margin-bottom:-200px;border-radius:300px 300px 0 0;}.carnage_gradient{position:absolute;z-index:10;top:500px;left:15px;width:430px;height:100px;background:-moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%, rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);background:-webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%,rgba(118,118,118,0)), color-stop(100%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8)));background:-webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);background:-o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);background:-ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);background:linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(118,118,118,0) 0%,rgba(76,76,76,0.8) 100%);filter:progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#00767676', endColorstr='#cc4c4c4c',GradientType=0 );}.carnage_message{position:relative;z-index:10;width:400px;background:rgba(76,76,76,0.8);text-align:justify;padding:15px;color:#CCDDE6;}.carnage_quote{position:relative;z-index:15;text-align:center;top:-20px;font:18px 'Alegreya SC', serif;color:#B34747;text-shadow:1px 1px 4px #441211;}.carnage_name{position:relative;z-index:15;padding-top:10px;text-align:center;font:28px 'Alegreya SC', serif;color:#B34747;text-shadow:1px 1px 4px #441211;}</style><center><div class="carnage_container"><img src="https://i.postimg.cc/85yyTfqG/can-rage.jpg"><div class="carnage_gradient"></div><div class="carnage_message"><p class="carnage_quote">lord, I fashion dark gods too;</p>
They make it. Well, most of them. The fog does all manner of things – causes confusion, madness, makes beasts from nothing. He hears their cries and shouts and curses, and through their eyes he sees the beasts, feels the lapping tongues of madness. And that awful, insectile buzzing. He thinks that, in time, such a noise would work its way into your bones, tear you apart atom by atom.
(Maybe that is the only way to destroy a god.)
One does not emerge. The lightning mare with the spear in her chest is gone. He looks for her, for a moment, and finds nothing. She is simply gone. This is strange, almost unsettling – he had not felt her slip from his grasp – but he doesn’t ponder on it long. He knew he would lose some.
Through their eyes, he takes in the sight of it. The ledge of a cliff, nothingness beyond, and he wonders for a second if he was mistaken, if there’s nothing there, after all. He tries not to focus on the noise, on how it seems to reverberate in the very ground beneath their feet. Is it shaking?
And then –
He sees it, finally. A place beyond the cliff, down. It shimmers, just slightly, like a misplaced heat mirage. He keeps his – their – gaze on it now, thinking if he looks away he won’t find it again, it’s small, and he isn’t sure how to proceed, but – oh! – he blinks and thinks it might be larger now.
They know we’re here, he thinks to himself, which is a strange thought to have. Who are They?
It’s wider now. A circular, shimmering spot in the nothingness. A door, or a mouth.
The ground is definitely shaking, now.
<i>There,</i> he says, as if they had not all watched the spot below the cliff change, widen. <i>Through there. And hurry. It’s <b>hungry</b></i>.
The final words aren’t his, but they come through him. Not quite his voice. Twisted, just slightly.
The <s>door</s> mouth is wide now. He thinks that if they don’t go to it, it will simply take them, instead. He wonders which is worse.
<i>Go,</i> he thinks again, <i>jump. I don’t think you have much time.</i>
NOTES:
- <b>Sabra</b> has withdrawn. She was consumed by the fog, and will wake up on the beach knowing she died, and came back, but not what happened in the afterlife. All those memories are white, like fog.
- At the edge of the cliff you made it to, there’s a rapidly expanding shimmery spot. Jump off the cliff into it! (Or just wait, the cliff is starting to crumble, and it might just pull you in.)
- But, like Carnage said, it’s hungry, and it will take something from you as you pass through. This can be a trait, a body part, something less tangible (a child, one of your senses, etc.). Can be more abstract too, just message me if you have an idea!
- You’ll pass through the door, or into the mouth, where it will feed upon you. There’s a prolonged period of falling and darkness.
- The next world you fall into is…strange. The buzzing noise is gone, but it’s almost like you can still feel it in your bones. The world itself is warped and gives a sense of wrongness (think Salvador Dali paintings). There’s movement in the distance, but you don’t know what it is that’s moving.
- Your traits are still nonfunctioning.
- Replies are due at or before <b>11:59 PM on Sunday, August 23rd.</b> If you need to withdraw, message me. Failure to reply without officially withdrawing will result in elimination or a defect.
- The next round is (probably) the last, but keep in mind I’m making all this up as I go along, and y’all are SUCH DAMN GOOD writers and inspiring so if there’s actually two more rounds don’t blame me.
<p class="carnage_name">c a r n a g e</p></div></div></center>
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#00767676', endColorstr='#cc4c4c4c',GradientType=0 );}.carnage_message{position:relative;z-index:10;width:400px;background:rgba(76,76,76,0.8);text-align:justify;padding:15px;color:#CCDDE6;}.carnage_quote{position:relative;z-index:15;text-align:center;top:-20px;font:18px 'Alegreya SC', serif;color:#B34747;text-shadow:1px 1px 4px #441211;}.carnage_name{position:relative;z-index:15;padding-top:10px;text-align:center;font:28px 'Alegreya SC', serif;color:#B34747;text-shadow:1px 1px 4px #441211;}</style><center><div class="carnage_container"><img src="https://i.postimg.cc/85yyTfqG/can-rage.jpg"><div class="carnage_gradient"></div><div class="carnage_message"><p class="carnage_quote">lord, I fashion dark gods too;</p>They make it. Well, most of them. The fog does all manner of things – causes confusion, madness, makes beasts from nothing. He hears their cries and shouts and curses, and through their eyes he sees the beasts, feels the lapping tongues of madness. And that awful, insectile buzzing. He thinks that, in time, such a noise would work its way into your bones, tear you apart atom by atom.
(Maybe that is the only way to destroy a god.)
One does not emerge. The lightning mare with the spear in her chest is gone. He looks for her, for a moment, and finds nothing. She is simply gone. This is strange, almost unsettling – he had not felt her slip from his grasp – but he doesn’t ponder on it long. He knew he would lose some.
Through their eyes, he takes in the sight of it. The ledge of a cliff, nothingness beyond, and he wonders for a second if he was mistaken, if there’s nothing there, after all. He tries not to focus on the noise, on how it seems to reverberate in the very ground beneath their feet. Is it shaking?
And then –
He sees it, finally. A place beyond the cliff, down. It shimmers, just slightly, like a misplaced heat mirage. He keeps his – their – gaze on it now, thinking if he looks away he won’t find it again, it’s small, and he isn’t sure how to proceed, but – oh! – he blinks and thinks it might be larger now.
They know we’re here, he thinks to himself, which is a strange thought to have. Who are They?
It’s wider now. A circular, shimmering spot in the nothingness. A door, or a mouth.
The ground is definitely shaking, now.
<i>There,</i> he says, as if they had not all watched the spot below the cliff change, widen. <i>Through there. And hurry. It’s <b>hungry</b></i>.
The final words aren’t his, but they come through him. Not quite his voice. Twisted, just slightly.
The <s>door</s> mouth is wide now. He thinks that if they don’t go to it, it will simply take them, instead. He wonders which is worse.
<i>Go,</i> he thinks again, <i>jump. I don’t think you have much time.</i>
NOTES:
- <b>Sabra</b> has withdrawn. She was consumed by the fog, and will wake up on the beach knowing she died, and came back, but not what happened in the afterlife. All those memories are white, like fog.
- At the edge of the cliff you made it to, there’s a rapidly expanding shimmery spot. Jump off the cliff into it! (Or just wait, the cliff is starting to crumble, and it might just pull you in.)
- But, like Carnage said, it’s hungry, and it will take something from you as you pass through. This can be a trait, a body part, something less tangible (a child, one of your senses, etc.). Can be more abstract too, just message me if you have an idea!
- You’ll pass through the door, or into the mouth, where it will feed upon you. There’s a prolonged period of falling and darkness.
- The next world you fall into is…strange. The buzzing noise is gone, but it’s almost like you can still feel it in your bones. The world itself is warped and gives a sense of wrongness (think Salvador Dali paintings). There’s movement in the distance, but you don’t know what it is that’s moving.
- Your traits are still nonfunctioning.
- Replies are due at or before <b>11:59 PM on Sunday, August 23rd.</b> If you need to withdraw, message me. Failure to reply without officially withdrawing will result in elimination or a defect.
- The next round is (probably) the last, but keep in mind I’m making all this up as I go along, and y’all are SUCH DAMN GOOD writers and inspiring so if there’s actually two more rounds don’t blame me.
<p class="carnage_name">c a r n a g e</p></div></div></center>