01-05-2020, 08:34 PM
<center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Nothing+You+Could+Do&display=swap" rel="stylesheet"><div style="width: 500px; background:linear-gradient(to top, rgba(235,235,240,0) 500px,rgba(235,235,240,1) 800px),url('https://i.postimg.cc/rmgVLwKC/52-CE29-FB-83-B3-47-AA-85-AF-79-DDF90-A03-B7.jpg')bottom center no-repeat,#EBEBF0;padding:0px 0px 700px 0px;box-shadow: 0px 0px 8px 1px; border: 1px solid #273137;"><div style="text-align:center;font:20px 'Nothing You Could Do', serif;color:#283238; padding:15px;line-height:75%;">she fell for the idea of him<br>and ideas were a dangerous thing to love</div><div style="opacity:0.9;width:450px;text-align:justify;padding:10px;font:12px 'Times', serif;color:#000;background:#C5D2DF;box-shadow:0px 0px 12px 0px;border:1px solid #273137;">She is surprised when it is him that materializes from the fog, and the feeling of dread that settles in her chest like a stone is almost instantaneous. She would never claim to know him entirely, to always be able to predict what will anger him, but she knows him well enough to recognize when it is too late. “Carnage,” his name feels like ash on her tongue, and for the first time in a long time she is hesitant to meet his gaze directly. He controls it, but she can feel the fury that brims beneath the surface, and perhaps that makes the calculated steps and the measured tone of his voice all the more fearsome.
For a moment she thinks of the ghost of the valley, and that galaxy so far away, but she knows that is not the Carnage with her now.
Instead she remembers how hot her blood felt when it streamed from empty, gaping sockets, and how her lungs had burned when they filled with sea water.
Her pulse flutters in her throat, and she doesn’t answer him. There is a different kind of fear running rampant in her veins, because even though she can’t piece together the mistake that she had made, she knows she made one. He’s angry, she realizes, that she came here. And in the split moment when she opens her mouth to protest, to explain that she didn’t <i>like</i> to ask him for help or favors, he is at her throat.
Any scream that tries to escape is drowned by blood, and the struggle to get away from him is useless. A mangle of bright red blood and porcelain white, her body crumples to the hard ground, the angelic aura and the golden halo disappearing as her heart stutters to a stop.
When she opens her eyes and finds herself staring again into the expanse of the afterlife, it is despair that finds her first. The blood disappears, and she is again whole and vibrant, but that does not make up for the fact that she is once again trapped here. She waits, foolishly, for him to bring her back. She doesn’t think that he will – not this time – but she cannot help but to hope. She had always known there was a fragile line that existed between them, one that she walked with sometimes not enough trepidation; one that she had crossed, accidentally.
She hears her name, and she looks up to see an unfamiliar face, but she knows without question who she was. “Gail,” she says, and tentatively she steps forward. They’ve never met, but she knows who she is; the one that Carnage had sent others to find and bring back, the one that the afterlife was carved out for. She tells her to close her eyes, and she hesitates.<I> I don’t want him to see where you are yet,</i> and while her first instinct is to be suspicious, she realizes that she doesn’t have a choice. Going back didn’t seem like an option right now; she knew <i>if</i> she made it back that it was incredibly unlikely that his anger had waned.
And so, she listens. She closes her eyes, knowing that in doing so she was further severing his connection to her, and she swallows away the unease that that makes her feel. But, he was already furious, and she was already dead – which wasn’t much of a reassurance, but it was all she had. “Won’t he be able to still hear us?” She asks, having never actually been in the presence of anyone whose powers were strong enough to block him out, though she tries to hide the doubt from her voice.</div><div style="font: 30px 'Nothing You Could Do', serif; color: #283238;text-align:right;padding-right:25px;">ryatah</div></div></div>
For a moment she thinks of the ghost of the valley, and that galaxy so far away, but she knows that is not the Carnage with her now.
Instead she remembers how hot her blood felt when it streamed from empty, gaping sockets, and how her lungs had burned when they filled with sea water.
Her pulse flutters in her throat, and she doesn’t answer him. There is a different kind of fear running rampant in her veins, because even though she can’t piece together the mistake that she had made, she knows she made one. He’s angry, she realizes, that she came here. And in the split moment when she opens her mouth to protest, to explain that she didn’t <i>like</i> to ask him for help or favors, he is at her throat.
Any scream that tries to escape is drowned by blood, and the struggle to get away from him is useless. A mangle of bright red blood and porcelain white, her body crumples to the hard ground, the angelic aura and the golden halo disappearing as her heart stutters to a stop.
When she opens her eyes and finds herself staring again into the expanse of the afterlife, it is despair that finds her first. The blood disappears, and she is again whole and vibrant, but that does not make up for the fact that she is once again trapped here. She waits, foolishly, for him to bring her back. She doesn’t think that he will – not this time – but she cannot help but to hope. She had always known there was a fragile line that existed between them, one that she walked with sometimes not enough trepidation; one that she had crossed, accidentally.
She hears her name, and she looks up to see an unfamiliar face, but she knows without question who she was. “Gail,” she says, and tentatively she steps forward. They’ve never met, but she knows who she is; the one that Carnage had sent others to find and bring back, the one that the afterlife was carved out for. She tells her to close her eyes, and she hesitates.<I> I don’t want him to see where you are yet,</i> and while her first instinct is to be suspicious, she realizes that she doesn’t have a choice. Going back didn’t seem like an option right now; she knew <i>if</i> she made it back that it was incredibly unlikely that his anger had waned.
And so, she listens. She closes her eyes, knowing that in doing so she was further severing his connection to her, and she swallows away the unease that that makes her feel. But, he was already furious, and she was already dead – which wasn’t much of a reassurance, but it was all she had. “Won’t he be able to still hear us?” She asks, having never actually been in the presence of anyone whose powers were strong enough to block him out, though she tries to hide the doubt from her voice.</div><div style="font: 30px 'Nothing You Could Do', serif; color: #283238;text-align:right;padding-right:25px;">ryatah</div></div></div>