FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO KNOW WHAT

"going horizontal"

means,

YES.
This is a challenge intended to torment you
even during your darkest nights
when the sky heralds no moon or stars
and the only thing left for you
besides this challenge
is sleep.

STEP 1
Take any post of yours, any post at all that your beautiful human hands have graced with your creativity and persona.

STEP 2
Purple prose-ify that post.

And that's it! That's all you need to do! We can all scream about it on Discord or in the next post
(but BEWARE, if you post to this thread you MUST be purple prose-ifying a post that YOU WROTE!)

...Enjoy! ;3c

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

you know what i'm gonna do

---

The gradient orbs of soft creamy tones drenched in the cloak of darkness wobbled.

A very uncomprehending, crawling, gentle, movement occured shortly thereafter. A male anatomy architectured like extensive spaghetti with a toso entwined past the dark macadam. His pace was on the qui vive, nearly agonizing in posture, which careened extensively to a particularly leaned on half. A metallurgic lavalliere stuck like glue gently against his diamond flesh. To the above-mentioned with very well-built olfactory nerves, the slender bouquet of flavor was transported away past the shadowy domain trailing them.

"Promote me," it seemed to be the vocalizations of a particular being named Simon. It was labored and thick, as if one had been bellowing for a long stretch of space-time. It happened to become a discontinuance. It occurred again. "Promote me. Oneself is no longer able to experience apperception. One is no longer able to experience apperception please be inclined to promote oneself who is currently perceiving fear--" It segregated once more. The modulation was decomposed, pussyfooting around colossal and depressed, notwithstanding... fantastic. As the case may be perhaps the viperic organism was just stertorous.

Droplets of scarlet juice dribbled delicately against drab gilings. "Being referred to as Sora-- Sora, what is your current location? Amuse, do not terminate me in the background. I am perceiving fear. Do not terminate me "

Convoluted glissade. Scarlet syrup dribbles.

---

im sorry

Original post here (content warning for gore, horror, and general funkiness)

hey guys for an added laugh use this site when you're done with your challenge posts: text obfuscator

here's that simon post with it ((it has a character limit so you might have to do them in 2-3 parts))

In Págine balls creamy tones of soft fabric soaked in the dark.

Shortly after the move, a very broad, hoarse spirit decided to remain silent. It's an anatomy that architecture is like broad spaghetti shrines, reported in the dark Makadi Toso, which is linked to the past. The pursuit of composition is so close to the middle of slim earnings that it is pain above all. The darling should gently remove the metal glue stick. The fountain was built so that we could see a beautiful bouquet of aromas from its shaded area.

"Advertising" The sound seemed like a separate song called Jesus. The work was fat, maybe a bit of respect for a long time. Not by chance. It happened again. "Go straight ahead." You cannot prove that it is very important. You can feel, you cannot feel. Please note that there is a tendency to apply a feeling of fear now ... "about it again. From an exploded module, under research huge and depressing surroundings ... amazing. As it is now, the viral organism is bad.

The red rain juice was a wonderful rain against the dragon. "I called Sister ... Sister, what's your only place? The interesting circle doesn't stop me. I'm scared. Don't stop with me."

Rotary accessories. The game melts into syrup.

Broad fucking spaghetti shrines.

Okay fuck it here goes (I HATE THIS STYLE omg lmao)

The original, from here:

His Lord was in motion, and his attention snapped to her, his thoughts falling away discarded. Those fingers, lacing his jaw, and he felt that pause in time: that held breath, again, that tingling rush of rapt exultation. There was reverence in her stillness, and as she spoke, meaning crept from even the first words like hidden venom. He felt the hand pulling his jaw down, the power behind her command, and he did not resist--he certainly did not resist, and how could he? Could he? If she wished her hand in his mouth, on his tongue, then that was his joy; but the threat was already there, whispering along the backs of her words and he knew he was in danger. Ahh, but did he care? He couldn't decide, and though it happened quickly it seemed a thousand years--her stare locking his, her fingers brushing his mouth, electric; the fear of what she might do and the eagerness of... other possibilities, ones he could not fathom. Granting of gifts, of power, of favor-... And should he fear? Should he fear?

which is already flowery enough but here it is run through the Purple Prose mental filter--

Lordess' bodice* flowed into motion. Hexad toxic orbits rolled to follow, each word in pierced mind and each letter forming it dripping away across cold stone floor beneath. Alabaster digits laced rigid mandible beneath hooked canines, and infinite hourglasses held eternal sand: lungs swept full, tingling adrenals sparking stars across ravenous nerves. Goddess silence in that stillness, worship unspoken, but words slipped forth tinged with hidden venom. Nerves fired. The slender whites drew down jowl with eternal power, and the sleek monster offered no resistance... defiance was infernal impossibility, refusal a statistical nothing. Was a mortal creature capable of such hindrance? If Lordess wished limb gracing befouled maw, blessing toxic tongue, then o he was enraptured for it; black ice promises whispered along the backs of her contention and the beast fell gladly into widow's trap. Ahh, but did this perturb..? Indecision wavered, the seconds stretching along glorious eons, her orbs capturing his, pale writers licking at aperture, electrified; disquietude of potential actions and anticipation of contingencies, unfathomable. The endowment of glorious tributes, the awarding of fortitude, the alottment of benediction... And should the beast behold in trembling timidity? Should he know the Lordess in dread..?

thanks i hate myself now

*bodice for body should be punishable by death

I'm so sorry for subjecting you all to this massive abomination. The original's here.

The experience of juvenescence possessed perquisites. Most of all, unpalatable remembrances bowed submission in preference to the immediate. Or mayhaps those hard visions solely gripped veracity for him. Nary an individual resided for such a beast with reptilian hide lacquered pitch to measure his brief flicker of animation against, but discovery revealed him being gravitated to sustaining every unforeseen tug at his mind's fabric that announced its emergence in the absence of repeated cogitation.

Extend and retract limbs in rapid succession while descending a surface of rugged stone here. Observe circular dips brimful of shining blue, astonishing in their robbing of lungs' air, there. Expedition to grasp desirable sustenance? An endeavor unfulfilled. The void cared little for its owner's preoccupation in offering aid, expressing heartily its discontent each sixty-beat intervals of three as he wormed along with swift motions.

Sleek and bright of scale, figures glided spirals within the tear-filled depths of which his investigation delved. As sharp triangles of silver-clad flesh skimmed the above, rows of sparkling diamond erupted and traversed along it. An intriguing sight for a dark gaze, but indisputably unfit to sully one's maw. How his blood boiled under the skin, screaming out its rage.

Mind stroked in repetition over such difficulty until the answer skipped forward with eager response. Had not a happening occurred prior during his untimely imprisonment by elevation? Heat had engulfed the former paralyzing touch that froze his form when his silent cries had soared on fearful wings to a shrieking peak. Certainly, if the power of flame without blaze could spring to his digits, morsels to abate starvation would be a victory equally devoid of challenge.

Cognitive function refusing to be shut down in the face of an attempt, orbs narrowed and closed as he delivered orders fitting of military might to his soul or whatever mysterious essence in the vicinity that had approached in useful kindness. As if possessing of ears, flashes and sparks flitted out from the epicenter of his tongue and weaved their willful way to overwrite every taste receptor, great in likeness to the moments retained in relevant memories.

Shower satisfaction upon his painful need. Without hesitation.

His body writhed in sync with his attention as time stretched along an eternal corridor, incapable of repressing the trembles riddling his stance, but those sensations withdrew their tendrils in tandem with those piercing his perception. Emptiness. Disappearance of shinier emotional influences trailed close behind and flared into swift fury. Diamond rows replaced those native to finned fiends, his addition born of searing vexation, resulting from a clawed appendage's ferocious swing and subsequent splash.

Time flowed backward. What alternative?