Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190303210034/@comment-30014014-20190627025739

Sight...

...sound...

...smell...

...sensation...

...taste.

All of his senses, whitered. Sight darkened and grayed out, the world devoid of color. Sound snuffed out, her voice, unable to reach his ears. Smell, rended unbearable, her perfume, her person, replaced with the foul odor of sulfur. Sensation burnt out. Her touch, the wind, his feet striking the soil, null. Taste, empty. No blood, no air, nothing.

All of his senses, giving way to a voice. A voice and a message. A dreadful message for sight, filled with horror. Sound, with fear. Smell, with terror. Sensation, with dread. Taste, with trepidation.

One message, one threat...

''Our time is up... .m̖̰̰y̦̪ ̜l̹̗̠͇̺itt̳̗̻͍̟̰̜ḷe̮̝̣͈ͅ ̖la̰̩̥̲͚̫m̤̹͈͇̣̪b̰̝̯. Time to step from the b̹̤̥̰i̘͔̺̥̯ͅg̗̙̼̪̲̣ ̰ba̯̥d̥̤ ̮̯̥̩͈͇w̳̗̯͎̬̜o̱̦̬͇l͕f̖̤̩͓ .''

Prad knew what is presumed. Making little of his injuries, he shoves Roda. Far from him. So far from him. The very time she is pushed...


 * Crack

A crater punctures the soil where she was present but a split-second ago. A brief, but violent storm of violet shades erupts, dotted with two sharp holes on the floor. Smoke bursts from it, but those with a sharp gaze could see young Prad forcefully lifted, held by the throat amidst the rising smoke