Thread:HoundTheDestroyer93/@comment-25808351-20191211055508/@comment-30014014-20191215223140

Well, if Joseph was ever to enter a field as to throw one big bundle of attack, well...

''The air turns acrid. It snuffs out breathes, for but the best of seconds. The enemies, unable to decypher what was to occur next, in their cough, spit out...confetti? But, not the sort one would make out of paper and glitter.''

''No, this confetti that whispers of a more lacerating air, is ethereal, fleeting, yet present. It is then that then summoner notices a bundle materialized over his enemies' head. Once, incoherent, they now seem to take on the shape--''

Marked for death.

''The effigy of two blades crossed now hangs over their heads like a blade of Damocles. They do not see it, their senses in disarray as they feel the overwhelming presence of someone...something looking at them. From where? The covers? Their backs, the sky--the sky?! ''

''Since when did the sky shift?! It peers with an unnatural color, clouds made of radiances. Pink and purple They crack, fissuring over like a mirror split in half. Before short, more cracks, over the cerulean. More cracks on the earth's flesh. More cracks...everywhere.''

''And then, the skies died, shattered, revealing reality's foundation. Circuits of light and ethereal shapes connecting the atmosphere to the cosmos. The void of space is overtaken by a glamor of pink, shining on distant stars seemingly looking to the condemned. So long as it been...''

''...since the Sanguine Comedian has scarred reality by his mere presence. Here he is, high in the empyrean. Joseph--no...his former alter ego. The Sanguine Comedian. Lyssa' personification of love turned to wrath. Impossibly distant, he gazes upon the man who's beacon called him in the vast distance of space. And then, his enemies. The marked for death.''

''Joseph's mask does not feature his casual leer. It is a blank canvas of his older times. One that he bears, if only for this moment. He speaks alien tongue, a human from another parcel of the universe. And then, shadow mirrors. Mirrors of his reflection, behind each marked, the daggers, griding into each other.''

''As the mirrored shadows plunge their Etherian shards into the men. Weapons that no armor could hope to dispel, for it searched the vast existence for its mortal weakness. Weapons that no shield could pray to deflect, for it struck between its gaps, however small they may be.''

''The enemies are stabbed once, their bodies, afflicted with his ether, contaminating the soul beneath them in a volatile matter. Soon enough, it was as if reality itself decided that they no longer belonged. Their explosion is a spectacle of glamour showering the immediate space with more spatial cracks, collapsing the entire area...before rebiulding as if nothign had ever happened.''

...save for them...