Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26517142-20190421032824/@comment-30014014-20190510152422

The Sanguine Comedian knees to face the despairing Mako, frozen by dread, unable to move of his own volition. He speaks no longer, instead glaring from his blank mask at what was once an enemy. Mentally drained, physically broken.

He raises a finger drenched in golden ethereal. It twitches and writhes, touching the man's cheek. It instantly turns to glass of a golden flavor, reflecting the victim in an unnatural manner.

He raises his hand, under Mako's dreadful stare, reeling at the sudden slaps protusing his glass-tained cheek. A violent, blood-curling screech echoes throughout the land, fully encompassing the anguish of a man.

The glass smashes from his falling face, shaped to splinter of Mako. Each piece of glass features one of the myriad of ways the Sanguine Comedian murders him. A blow to the head, a cut to the throat, punctures by an ethereal pistol. Hundreds, nay, thousands of deaths mirrored in every pieces, all felt by the veritable Mako. Suffering incomprehensible to many assails him one by one, dying as he splinters to many more glass, which, in turn, feeds him many more gruesome deaths, which cuts more glass from him.

Again...and again...and again...