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CYCLE 120Current time: Apr 05 2025, 12:40 PM


Turpentine erase me whole IN The Hole
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Male 58 Cycles
Golden retriever/Mongoose hybrid Snail

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The Altarè̶͓̫̜̈́ȏ̷̲ṉ̴͕̪̒̃̕ ̶͑ͅe̸͉͋̋ ̵̪̾̂͠á̶̩͗́ ̷̮̝͒̒̅s̶̺̋͌a̴̜͐d̷̘͙͑̍Altars̶̻̺̆̂̌ ̶͙̋̽t̷̺̤͍͐̾ŏ̷͖̤̌̕i̸͉͍̇̈̒c̸̠̹̎̿ ̴̰͓̈́͑͒į̴̡̝̈́t̴͎̲̼̔͘l̴͇̀͋u̷͚̎̐͜͝.̶̞̻͎̓̒̾s̶̖͙͎̿̍̚ ̷͔̣͎̐t̴͇̗̤͝ö̷̰́̏m̶̱̳̬͊̍̐è̴̲̬ĉ̷̟͉̚ḝ̴̼̒̂ọ̸̡͙̄͝ ̴͇̲́͜t̶̟͇̅̌ ̷͙͍̮͝î̸̩̓̎Altart̴̪̓̃ ̷͖̔̎̃ǫ̷̿͠ ̴̯͗̒͆.̸̡̼̈a̴͈̗̺͛ṯ̸̮̖͊̔͋ ̵̜̮͆̾͜l̷̝̣̫͋͛̋k̶͖̈́'̶̜̇e̵͚͌̇c̷̨̑a̵̧̿̀t̸̜͊͌b̴̧̪͖̆͝v̴͍̣̊̚͝i̴̢̹͛u̶͍̓s̴̖̎ḽ̷̡̼̀r̶̲̃͌ ̶̢̔̉́ẻ̴͓̆̾e̶̖̣͍͘n̶͚̣̂̑͐n̷̲̈̕͝d̷̢͍̋a̷̧̜͊͋f̶͇͍̉n̵̨̒͊h̸̥͗̄͒ç̶̈́̏l̶̫̫͒̕͜ ̶̛̯̄̓e̵̠̮͙͋̍̈́ḑ̵̹͎̎̆t̶̹͚̦̚The Altarh̴̥͉̫͑̎t̶͍̓̆͐l̸̰̙̥̈́̇ ̵̣̏̋̆ĩ̸̧͎̜͑ḙ̵͉͕̂́ï̶̈́͘ͅt̷̖̼̠̔̅͊ ̴̦̞̈́̒̈́r̵̞̝͐̀í̵͈̯̖ḁ̴̣̏̔ẽ̷͕̫̅͠s̸͔̼͝ẗ̶̡̪́̍̑i̵̯̅̋n̶͕͐͘ͅl̴̺̎̃t̷͎̾̔͘.̴͉̼̻͘p̸̛̳̽͊n̴̘̖̬͋̈ǎ̶̘͛f̴̘̥͊̑̀The Altarc̵̱̪̓͑̊d̸̘̃t̷͍̥̉̆̄ ̷͉̐̾̕u̶͕̻̾.̶̳̜̔̌'̵͓͓͆͜p̴̳͇̒͘ń̷̮̎͌i̶̢͇̻͒̆͠s̸͚͖͛̆̽o̴̙͋ͅ ̸̲͂t̸̼̮̃͒͂t̷̮͉́̾ ̷͎̟̇̀̊ḭ̶̛̈̌ỵ̸̍a̴̤͂õ̸͎̺͂ͅ ̵̢̯̠̅̽g̶̹͝a̴̭̒͝ṕ̷̻̫͂t̵͉̣̣͐̅g̷̥̻̮̾͠Altarg̶͖̭̘͂͝ș̸̘̠͛e̶̙̖͎͊̏v̷̢̠̾ṣ̶̋̃r̵̺̣̓̕s̷̩͓̲̈́̚g̵̫̥̋d̶̘̭̉͆͘ ̸̘͕̿̆͜e̸̙͐n̵̛͎̓̀Altarç̶̧̨̛̃t̷̳̭̭͆̈́d̴̳̹͐̆e̵̮̳̍̚v̴̫̟̀̆r̶͚̒̕ ̸͉̿̆ͅe̸̢͇̽g̵̱̙̐́̿ ̴͙͘p̸̣̓̀̈ ̴̦̑̑̾'̷͓̘͍̔̓t̴̹͕͒c̴̫͈̅͠o̸̼̜̬͌ ̵̪͓̦̆͛͝s̶͍̋̀ś̶̹n̷͕̲̔͐̌ ̴̙́͋f̸̹̻̽̓n̶͔̺̿̃̓ġ̸̘̬̫̊'̵̟̫͓̌ȁ̴͈̥͔̏̂ḙ̶̢̃ͅh̶̥̋t̶̙̀i̵͈̗͂r̸̳̋̋̿p̴̹̌ ̵̨̗̱̔̎d̷̢͘͠t̵͍͇̉͆̕t̴̡̟̲̊́͋ ̸̬̿̓ȁ̶̢͓̜͐̄The Altarō̸͕̾̔i̴̻̖̚ë̴̪͂̓p̷̧̯̬͛ ̸̪͎̪̎̿̕s̶̖̼͛̊̈́Altar ̸̱̖̹̂o̶̜͑͝ȍ̸̭͌̈́d̵̨̮̔̽͝r̶͉̄͂.

It hadn't stopped since it left Pegasus. It couldn't. It might've never started back up again if it had. It'd gotten closer and closer to stopping even as it got closer and closer to it's destination. It refused to stop unless it was physically impossible- which was slowly becoming more and more probable.

s̴̮̊͝ ̴͍̗̊ṉ̴͔̮̊ ̸̫̝̄̔͋t̴̩̃̔s̴̩̏̔̂l̵̡̘̣̽̂̉The Altary̵̛̱͚͖̔ ̴͔̉̓ā̷͕͛o̸̪̱̣͋̀͠r̷̤̤͕͛͠h̴̬̫̼̊̎́ ̸̡̨̳͠ȇ̶̝t̶͚͇͉̀̀́'̶̩̟̎ḍ̸̦̙͆̎i̷̱̘̩̿̏̕Altare̷̼̬̯̅̋t̵̘̾̃l̶͈͔̣̉'̶̞͙͔̇̏̓ ̶͖̟̈́o̷̱̬̿̋̉t̸̗̹̗͐̕͠d̶̤̅̅ă̸̤c̴̛̙͉̠̿s̶̥̿͋̊ę̴̙̗̕e̴̖͐͐c̵͙̈͜h̶͌͜r̸̗̰͂̇ ̶̢̒́̔o̷̼̝͙͌͋c̵͕̠͉͋̈́͌s̶͔̙͋̾ȩ̷͓̱̊̽c̶͎̞͊̏́n̵̨͉̯͐ë̶̲́l̷̡̟̙̿̊v̸̊͗̍͜d̵̺̈́͛͑î̴͓̥ͅi̶̡̻̲̎́o̶̞͉͂̆̚i̷̛͙̖̰̓à̷̙t̶̛̰͚̀ ̵͉̞͛́̎ś̷̫̲̫͝e̴͍̒v̶͇̍͝͝n̸̦̓̄i̸̤͕͊̆ȃ̷̻͈̊d̸̟͕͈̓͌͆ ̷̫̫̳̏͝ó̸̢͑͠h̷̋̎̕͜ọ̸̫͂r̷̦̓̈́͝l̷͈̓͝ ̶͇̩͈͂̍ḭ̷̰͗͛͑a̵̤̬̤̿̃e̶̝̫͝ͅa̴̲̝͗̋͠ ̸͍͍̀̽̇n̴̘̝̹̉͊͝Altarğ̵̜̯̓ ̴̨͍͉̎i̴̙͙͇̿f̶̧̮̩̓͛͘s̸̢̔͆͝l̸̘̤̈́t̶̺̋r̸̨̪̓̏͠k̵͎̟̓ḯ̷͉̕͠ỉ̶̼̹p̸͇̀̈̒ ̶̖̕d̵̤̰̯̆͑ ̵̗̲̯͒̎̂'̸̭̎ ̷̪̜͎͐̆͂ṗ̵͍̜̌̚.̵̡̟̪̈́t̴͈͗͌͑e̷̡̅͒e̸̝̿̚ỉ̵̧͉̟t̷̳̟̓l̷̝̆̉ ̸͖͊͋͝'̶̨̭̓̆̆ġ̸̙̐͘Altart̷͖̋p̸̛̩o̶̡̟͐̆̇ŏ̷̮̹.̸̗̐́̔ ̶̛͖̱e̷̮̺̾͒ ̶̲̙͂̆̑f̴͎̆̐͊g̵̗̾͝͠ṟ̴̤͋d̴̡̔c̶͎̔̏́p̵̺̳̫̏c̷̬͚͍̽e̶̥̫̣̔͊̆ĭ̶̢̜͜The Altarg̶̞͕͑̊ả̸̜͔̙̀̀a̵͓͓͖͑̀̈Altarp̷͉͖͍̾n̶͖̤̖͊m̷̻͕̓͝ț̴̡̞͝ŕ̵̬̮ ̸̢̮̽̀͘Altarů̸̝̑ ̸͈̳͍͝͝a̷̻̿͛â̶̖͈͐ń̸͇̀̆ͅe̶̝͗̌ó̴̢̔t̶̯̪̎́̒t̶̬̽e̸̜̤̊̀̾ ̷̦͎̽t̷̤͑ ̵͈̙̀t̷̫̐t̸͕̂̌̀ ̵̖͊s̷̱͚̄͝u̴̻̯̇̊͠c̷̳͛ͅv̶̩͇̇̒ ̸̣̝̅̓ś̵̺ǫ̸͚̲̒ţ̶̬͒ͅp̷̦͒͛̍o̶̢̫̿̌s̴̛̪̃͆ṋ̶̉̽̕ ̸̫͓̞́̐n̵͔̼̭̔t̷͎̟͠d̸̨̛g̸̖̟͉͆s̴̳͌͑̉t̵̞̩̳͌e̷̙̻̓͊b̷̡̍̒n̵̥͌̾͗t̴̝̯͚͠ ̶̱̻̽ň̵̨̖̒̚t̵͔̽̑.̷̩̂̉̊í̷͕̬d̸̯̑̈͝Altars̸̡̥̩̑̂̄e̸̜͊g̴̞͗̓͜ͅș̶̰͐f̵͚̬̝̏͝ ̶̱̆́t̵̮̦̾͛́The Altarả̷͕͈̟̉ ̸̲̩̅.̴̮̊̀ú̶̹͖̈.

The voidlight washing over it was a welcome relief. Fur shone dark purple, eyes dark blue. It's stone was nearly white, though partially hidden by voidlight navy fur. It blinked, but neither slowed nor stopped.

ö̴͍̆c̸̙̖͆̓͘t̸͎̍͐̕ ̷̛̳̼͍͋̀õ̸̤d̵̢̝̍͋͝The Altar ̴͖̼̽͊̄ͅḑ̸͉͖̀͑̄ṱ̴̭̪̌̀̀ş̶̅̍̕d̴̩̲͚̊ṿ̷̪̪̒̔̔ǹ̷͚͚͔̓̕n̷̟̈́̍͒ ̷͔̹̯͛̕'̸̨̠̺̂ȇ̴̲̤͠ͅ ̶̯̿o̵̘͘ ̴̙̒͐͜ͅȇ̸̹̠̔̒Altarv̷̭͈̖͋t̴̠͎̓̈́f̴͛̔ͅś̷̱͈̕ ̵͍̩̃̿͐n̷̲̿ ̸̛̠c̴̤̋̆͠d̷̼̈̿ ̸̧̈́̑͝k̸̗̉͘f̸̢̜̝̅̂e̸̜̞͔͗̃ḽ̶̛̤̈́̄à̶̡͚͈͐̏o̸̹̿̌d̵̗̈̇t̵̢̩̃n̷̹̒͠ś̸͇̄̌Altarl̴̦̮͈͆̈͒t̴̯̗̩̚ ̸̛͍̭̭̂̌c̶͍̥͑ͅa̷̪̕p̸͓̲͖̄̍̋a̷̻̓e̸̫̙̒̌ͅ ̷̛̜͠͠p̸͍̖̏̀̽r̸͈̀͋u̶̪͍̎̑̍'̵̖̙̍́̚m̶̲̏͜t̷̥̪̹̊̈́͝d̴̙̝̒͑̕ͅe̶̜̗̰̿͊t̴͈͓̊ͅv̵͙̼͎͌̿͆ņ̸̧̹̃̐̓ ̶̗̉̈́̓o̴͈̺̙̎The Altarg̴̠͙̥̉̇̓t̵̡̞͐̍ͅḛ̷̼́s̶̻͂̕r̷͉͋̚g̷̩͐̍e̷̗̍s̶̠̥̯͌̓̌i̴̼͆t̸̫͍̠̽̔̚ṱ̷̐.̴̙̞̰̐͐́i̸͉̻͎̇ù̶̞̞̈ ̶̬̱͋͆The Altaro̵͔̗͗̆s̴͖̺̃.̵̱̈́͝ê̵̼͍͎̿͝ġ̸͎̒d̸̡̙̝͛r̶̙̟̅̈́̚d̵̳́n̴̞̈́͂i̴͐͠ͅc̸̬̒̂͘t̴͙͠ ̸̧̮̽̓͠ě̸̠͋t̷̘͆͌͘ ̵͓͖́l̷̬̤̓̂͠ ̵̝̒͗̚ṫ̴͇̦ ̷̢̙̥̈͆͝i̵̡̺̕e̸̫͆͆h̸̘̽̇i̵̗̻̱̓a̵̼̳͓͛t̶͉͉͊̽ͅ ̷̛̓͘ͅs̴͇̼͔̋è̵̗̞̯̊s̴̼̺͔̐g̸͚͂c̵̟̕s̷̗̫͒͋a̵̠̹͂̍Altarñ̵̞o̷̥̹̤̕é̴̺͌͊r̶̪͇͚̽͐͠ ̵̦̿̇̚͜The Altara̸̯̅́i̸̱͍̒̕.̵͎̰͑̕p̶͖͐̆t̶̨͔̑'̶̲͕͖͊̈́̓ ̴̨͙̒͒̀t̶͉͌ē̶̞̚͠ḧ̵̗̼́f̵̣̆͑r̷̦͈̫͝t̵̳̀̕ú̸̝͘l̸͎̬͍͗̑̃i̸̧͇̭͑̉s̸̠̰̃ͅt̸͔̀͜o̷̙̜̱̐c̶̯̭̆̔̀t̷̯̅̉̚ǧ̵͉͙̤The Altarḯ̷̭̯̞͘ỏ̵͚̈́e̶͚͓̎p̴̰̮̞̃́ ̴̱̐ì̴͉̣͔ ̷͎̈́͋͂ṗ̵̨̳͕̃̕t̸̞̘̍͐̌n̸̥̤̘͠ỉ̴̼̫̘̒͋ḷ̵̓̚'̸̬͕̱̈̿Altar ̸̮́͊̄ͅa̵͍͛̄͝ą̶͔͓̑ḯ̴̩̹̈́͛ś̷̖̝̬i̴͇̠̗̓̋a̸͚̽͜͝The Altar ̴̟͓͆͆͘y̷͍̔́ ̷̹̥̤͑̈͝p̴̬̹̂̾̈́ͅr̷͕̈͆͠l̶͖̲͓̀͘n̴̳̹̭̓͝ẗ̸̬̑n̵̻͉͒̈́ạ̵͉̺̎̎́ę̴̯͘͝.̴̧͇͑͘ ̸͇̖̙̽b̶͕̞̅͝s̸̱̜͛́͘o̷̥̹͉͑͠ ̵̛̱̽͘ç̸̫̘̚o̵̪̫̣̅̇͐g̷̯̟̽ ̵̢̺̦͒̇̆ẽ̶̗̆h̶̆̂͜ ̷̟̋a̸͚͊͐͝.

It collapsed right next to the altar. Whispers stuff it's ears like cotton. Shadows clouded it's vision like tears. There was nothing else. It could stop, but it wouldn't rest.

S̷͕̜͇̞̾̃̓͝h̵̹͂̆ä̶̰̻̳̱̜́̃̀̿̍t̷̛̪̻̩̮̼̓t̸̡͎͖̘͝ẹ̷̰̹͛͗͜r̴͇̳͓̖̀͐ḙ̵̋̊͗͆͘d̸̝͚̜́͌̀͌͠ ̷̛̝̮̑̇͒s̸̡͕͓̟͂̿̈́̃͝k̸̼̈́̑͐͗į̶͕͙̪̄̅e̶͎͂̔s̴̻͋̇̆̽͘,̸͚̭̜͑̏̌̎̚ͅ ̴̲̓̄͆͘͜s̷̢̱̼̠͓̎̄ć̵̬̝̞͓̼̀̑o̸̠͓͔̟̰̽r̵̙̰͐́c̵̨̰͓̬͇̏̀͝h̷͔͗͊ͅȩ̴͎̘́͋͂d̵̢͔̗̫̻͂̕͝ ̴̡̫́̄ẹ̸̡͌ͅa̶̧͈͇͝ȓ̶̨̛̛̳̔́t̸̛͔̍̂ḧ̸̖̯̜̺͂ẩ̴͖̫̙̭̲l̴̲͉̜̲̅̔͘į̴͎̘͚͕̑̽ḙ̸̘̭̌n̷̯̊́͝͠s̴̳̠͂̂̋͑͘ ̶̣̈́̀̈́̒̾ẃ̴̯̻̯̽̋a̷̩̯̘̳̩̿͌̈r̵̢͙͈͉̀̉͒̇͝r̴̨͇̍̒̂̀i̸̦̤̒̈ṇ̷̢̨̛̖͐̂̚ḡ̶̮̰̩́̕ ̸̢͔̙̣̉͑̎̓m̵̡͎͋̓̎̿͝o̷̰̖͑̐͝ń̵͚̦̳͌̃̎͘s̴̛͕͌͑̐̂t̵̰̦́͌e̸̡̼͖̍̕͝r̸͈̯̻͍̓̒͆͗ͅs̸̢̛̮̙͈ ̸̩͓̟̳̞͗̒́̅f̸̹̮̲̦̞̂̋͘ỉ̷͕̜g̷̢̱̠̊̈́ḧ̵͔́͋̌̆t̶̯̜͍̄i̸̤̩̼͇͂̚̚ņ̸͙̗̂̎̏g̷͔̈́i̴̳̺̘̞̅̒́g̸̱̱͐̑͑̈͗h̴͉̘͙̻͕̓t̴̤̯̂̈́͑͛̈ ̴͕̘̾̕͠w̷̹̟̌̾͘i̷̝͝t̶̳̭͂͒̎h̵̭͔͇̲͕̅̊̀ ̷̣̹͚̰͇͌̍͋͋̕t̷̛͂̒̈́͝ͅh̷̺̃̈̉̈́͝ë̶̥͍̝͌͘ͅm̶͉̱̭̟̿̈́̅͂͠ ̸̡̛̾̑̑f̴̳̄̾̓̐̚ī̷̢̙̟̻̂͒g̴̹̝͛͂̈́̉͝h̶̝̝̱̎͠͝ͅt̷͚̗̦̠͌͋ ̸̲̪̫̹̐̓̓͗͋a̶̺͓̝̭̙̽͗g̸̥̦̖̺͐̈́͗ä̵̲͙́̎į̶̱́n̶̨͈̉̌ŝ̴̖̩̎t̸͍̱̣̹̫͒̓͝ ̵̥̘̊̎̅̋͘t̶̫̃̃ͅh̷̢̲̬̜̳̎ė̴̖̝̍͝m̷̳͓͗̈̈́̓D̸͎͈̓e̸͍̒̐̕s̵͇͍͔̯̑͌͝t̴̹̗̖͂͝r̶͙͐̌̋ö̶̯̞̗̼̩́̄ÿ̵ͅ ̷̡͎̬̺̏̔̍r̶͓̉͂͌̔a̵͓̻͎̹̫̽̇͛́v̵̡͈̙̯͆̑ả̴̲̻̟̃͐g̷̫̍͝ȩ̸̮̗̄͊͊͋ ̸͔̰͖̲̽̆̀͊̇d̴̳̠̰̍̈́̂͘ͅe̵̲͊͗̎͘m̷͈̽͌͠͝ǒ̷̥͚ĺ̸̹̬͙͊ỉ̶̩͈͙̙̻̑͒s̷͇͕̃͂͒͝h̴͔͍̺̱̳̿ ̵̡͓͇̫̰̄͌r̷̞͕͓̆̅̅u̶̬̱͑̇͜i̷̢̨̛̭̘͇̿͋̇n̵͈̈́ͅ ̶͍̻̂͒̕D̴̜̻̝́͋̊͜E̵̪̠̋̚ͅS̵̍͗̀̈́͜͝ͅT̴͔̬̮͓̋͜Ṛ̵̨̫̾̀̎́͠Õ̵͚Y̸̜̿́̌.̶̜͑̋͊Ǵ̸͎̬̟̿͜r̵̛̤̜̾͑͛͜͝e̴̢̡͔͙͊̈́̂̄͆ḁ̶̌̋̑t̴̻͆̅̈ ̵̖̫̝̖͓̅̎͠m̷̢̪͖̬̂͘ơ̸̼̙̗͕͌̂͑ṇ̸̨̨̟̽́s̴̛̜̲̈́̑́t̵̼̥̓̀ŕ̶͖̦̔̈̔o̶̢̙̝̾͌͛u̶̢̎s̸̰̪̩̕ ̴̗́ȁ̴̛̰̖͚̯̾͌̈́l̴̦̜͊̾i̴͎̤͎̯̐́̋́ͅę̴̰̬͊ņ̵̠̞͓̓͝s̸̫̺̒̒͒̚͠ ̷͎̮͎̰̯͛͝f̴̲̊̉ͅi̴͚̍g̸͍̼͎̀͜h̷̢̡̛͇̼̫̓t̸̨̡̩̹̥̃̒̈́̾ȋ̵̡̺̓͑n̷̰͙̱̭̈̀̀̐ͅḡ̷̙͌.̷̫̼̮̤͊̋̑̑W̴̨̺̊̆̈́ṙ̸̦̩̗ȩ̴͉̜͓̎̈́̽̓͝c̶̞̦̉́̈̎k̴̛̘̪̆̋̈́̈́ą̵͇͑̈́́̄̕g̶̨͈̤͖̠̿͛͆e̵̜͉̯͚̓̄ ̷͔̾̉͊̃͝ ̶͉̞̮̕Ļ̴̮͓͗̈́͌̍̅ḙ̴̡͖̼̜̿͆̔̋v̷͇̅̂̋̃̍é̵͔͔̮̌̇͠l̵͇͉̝͂̉̄͝į̷̣͛ṋ̵̗̠̽̇̚͝ğ̷̰ͅ ̵̢̛̞̝̱̪̐͂̒̏b̷̛̞̂́̃u̴͇̞̭̙͛̾i̷̩͂͆̈́l̶̢͖̂ḑ̴͙̪͌̏i̸̢̧͔̱̹͆͐͒͘̕ṉ̶̛͋́g̸͎̰͐̽̚̚s̸̺̦̽ ̴̲̝͚͈̅͝í̸̘̝͙̻̅̈́͂͝n̵̟̱̈́̚͝͝ͅť̶̮͔͚͚̓̾o̶̧͓̺̽͝ ̴̧͔̰̮̈́͗̉̀͝ŗ̸̛̣̣̞͎̈́̄u̴̧͔̫̿̐͐͛͊i̶̳̦͇̣̪̇̅́̈́̒n̷̡̗̯̞̮̐̎͛.̴̣̩̏͐̌̔̌ ̷̧̨̺̥͚̃͂H̶̯̣̬̣͉̆̌̑̀͠a̸̧̪͚̥̟̽v̷̨̩̳̖̈́͋͆ȍ̵̩̹͉̗̽̎c̴̡̦̩̀̇̋͠ ̷̳͉̟̐̋͒ͅ ̸̯̳̈́̿́̚͜S̶̡̰̓c̸̖͙͈͇̓̿a̴̡̜͈̼͖̓̎́͗͘ţ̵̧͉̠̯̑̇́ẗ̵̙̱́̚̚̚ȩ̶̻̀̉͜͝r̶̮̻̬̱̀͌͜ǐ̸̲̙̫̱́ň̵̰̮̰̪̟̎͋g̶͍̻̊̐͆ ̵̮̃͋̓ͅo̸̪̦̍r̶͖̻̪͂d̶͚̱̲̉̆ĕ̵͍̝̖̆̆͐ȓ̶̟̤͓̣̀͋̐̊ ̵͉̺̻̠͙̋͘i̶̼̔̋̕n̵̛̬̼̗t̶̺̃̔̈́̈̃o̷̡͙̿́͛̓͐ ̷̡̲̎̿c̸͉͐͗̓ ̸̺̔̆͂D̴̘̫͓̂́̽i̷͇̊͗̉́̀s̴̜̗̪͐͌o̸̫̘̞̿̀ȑ̸̡̝͙̫́̉̒d̴̬̀̉ę̸͔̳̕r̶̺̱̖̬̽̾̂̋ ̵̟̐h̵̳̘̳̀̅̏͊̊a̸̩̬̮̗̓͆̍̀ọ̶͖̱̗͚̀̇ş̵́͘̕.̴̳̤̀͒̽͆͊ ̸̱̯̠̼̟̀̈́G̷͍̪͔̬̗̀͐͒̌r̵̡̬̗̣̠̋̓̓e̵͂͆́͜a̶͚̅̐͆̾̇t̵̨̖̤̗̉̈́ ̶͖̃̏ṁ̷̡̫͛͆͋ͅŏ̶͍͍̒̌͠͝n̴̪͈͇̦̯͒͑͋͂s̸̞̋͐̏͝͝ ̵̻̲̩͉̋̈́̽̕͝Ṃ̶͎̪̉͛̇ä̸̡̬̟͈̂̽͂̉ḑ̵͍̥̩̎̓̍̚͘d̵̬͉̺̫̝͋̕ǹ̴̠̺͎̳̆͆e̴̺͍̒́̉͘s̴͓̠̞͂ṣ̷̾̔͗̚͝ ̵̢͔͖̪̹̏̑̎̀̚t̷̬͎͙̆r̷͈̳͐̈́o̴̠̹͇͙̩̿͒̉u̸̧̮̎̇s̸̼̖͆́ ̴̯̺̘̲͚̒̐̈́͒a̵̡̜̯͝r̴̞̘͓̄̔̿̐͛m̴̬͉̖͐̑͘͜ĭ̸̹̝̲ẽ̵͈͓̩̠̩̓s̶̘̝̤̓ ̷̨͕̟̗͆̏w̵̛̗̣̠a̶͕͕̗̱̝̎͛̈́r̵̛̙̾̉͜ȓ̸̝̼͚̣̓͒ì̴̡̻̮̙̚n̶̜͊̋͌g̴̻̘͌͆̈́̿.̸͚̙̞͉̿̋͜͝ ̴̩̾͑͋͠E̶̺͚͚͔͆̽n̴̨̳̘̼͒̓̇d̸̥̼̉̉̅̊̚l̵̰̑̎̍͠ê̴̬̟̰͈̊̓s̷̞̩̀͒͊͝ͅs̶̫̍͐͒̃͘ ̷̞͐̆̆̄͠w̷̺̉̒ā̴̡̱̮͔̍̚ͅř̸̥̥̚͘͠.̷̛̤͆̌ ̸̼̈́̎͐̉̅Ȇ̷̪͍̺̿͊͘n̸̯̉̈ḑ̵̨͍̱̓͆͜l̸̤̏̓̋̉ͅ ̶̼͇͈̺̲̿̃̚͝͠F̶̧͓̼̞̫̏r̴̮͔̫̘̉̃̚͜ê̸͓̳͐̓n̶̗̿̋̽̃z̷̲̰̰̎̈́̕y̴̧̗͎̝͝͝ ̵̧̖̦͕̯̓̈́̔̓͝ę̶̂̿̄̕s̶̬̘̻̈́̏̀͂̒ş̶̢̲͉̐̾̾͆ ̸͓̗̩̠̆͂̎F̷̰̥̈́́͜ị̶̞̘͐̈̊̾͌ḡ̸̨̛̻͔̍̕ḩ̶̱̤̖̰̽̈́ţ̵̩̱̟́̆͛͑̚ï̴̯̯̘̝n̸̡̠̩̯̑̋ĝ̵̢̘̟̞ͅ.̴̠͔̄̇ ̶̞̟̂̀͊E̶̤̓̊̽͊̄n̸̛̦̬̗͐d̴̮̺̜̬̘̈́̍̇̀̊l̴͇̻͊͒̂ē̷̩͍͍̲̈́s̶͖̫͔̼̈̐ş̴͍̫̫̇̆̑̐͝ ̷̟̈́̓Ć̶̡͙̯̼̎͑͗͝h̵̝͉͍͈̗̎̓͌̿͂ą̴͇͔̑̏̔o̵̹̯̪͛̓̕͜š̷̙ ̸̘͕̈́͑̚͜É̵̙̈́͑̾n̶̞̱͉͐t̶̙͒̊́̅̽r̶̡̢̩̭̈̉̈́̚ȍ̸̝͈̤̙̰̑p̷̗̞̱̔y̸͔͇̮̘͉̿ ̵̪̼̝͉̅̈́ͅ
̷͓͊P̴̨͈̞̣̝̎͒͋̕͝a̵̙͑i̷̹̤̹͛̓̿n̵̗̆?̵̯̥̈́̈́͜ ̶̺͇͇̣̌H̶͎̰̀̒ŭ̴̠̞̬̆̾̆̅ ̵͚͉͌̓̓r̶̙̜̊͜ţ̸̙͍͐̓̔?̴̣͐̀̿͜ĥ̵̦͎̩͒ ̴̡͕̳͔̿́̽ȕ̷̬̪̯̅͒̀͆r̷̭̯͖̈́̓ţ̵̨̻̹̖̑͌͠ ̸̱̤̪͔͎̉h̷̲̩̉̐͛̍͘h̴̰͕̟̠̾͑̈́ȗ̵̬͖͘ ̵̧͕̠͉͍̄̃r̵͇̠̻̠̍t̵̨̟͔̲̳̚͝͝ ̶̙̭̻̩̄̅͝p̴̣̽̈́͜͝ȧ̷̧̮́͆͜į̸͕̣̘̿͝͝ ̴̩́̚͝ṇ̸͊͗̅͝ ̵̜̐̓̑̈́͘d̴͙̰͒ ̵̟̲͉͆̄ͅe̴͈͓̙͋͠͝s̸͇̓̈ ̷̦̼̽͊̄͗ţ̵̥̪͝r̵̮̭̖̬̮͊̀̉̈́͑ ̴̦̝̩̘̃ơ̷̡̥͕̯̼̇͆̍̀y̴̡̩͇̟͆̏͗̌ ̵̪͉̦̭͑͆̎ͅt̶̯̖̅͆̑̋̓ ̴͙̮̣̔͑͐̌̇͜ͅe̵͍̻͚̠̯̐̾ȁ̸͔̜͈̭ ̸̪̻̋̏r̸̩̍̾ ̸̨̘̹̰̝̋̇ḩ̶̮͈̯̎̽E̵̦̼͔̞̊̆͂̒n̷͕̪̳̽̏͜t̶̠̭̙͈̒r̷̛͚͖͗͗̚o̸̪͕͌̊̾͝p̸̖̭͙͚̈́y̸̠͖͓̩̆͜͝.̵̡̡̛̭͊͗ ̷̀̀́͠ͅȩ̶͔̦̺̱̄n̵͓̻̞̍̇͋̂̑d̶̦͆̎̊͝l̷̡̫͑ē̴͔̺̤͔̪s̷̟͇͈̾́͋s̴̢̯͎̈́͛̈́̐.̸̠͙̙̂͜ ̸̧̟̠̦̙̈́̎̽́͝C̵̺̓̏͝ḩ̸͕͙͛̍̌̚͜͜ǎ̵̢̪̩͇̃̍͜n̴̬̘̋͋̚g̴̨̬̩̊̎̈́̄͆e̵̪̖̦̦͂̚̚͝-̵͔͇͊̈́̿͝ ̵̡͔̼͝b̷͚͉͂͐̿ä̸̟ẗ̸̖́͐̋̚͝ṯ̷̔̊̕͠ͅl̴̜̖̔̔̎e̵̘͙͐̔̉͌̚s̶̛̭̾͝͝-̴͈̣̞͇̃̚͜ ̶̨͇͕͛c̷̣̟̤̀̓̀ḫ̵̉̓̄͜à̵͖͇̩̓̂̒̕ͅō̸͎̦̫̣̬̂͛̈́̀s̵͍̺̈́̾̿̐͝.̴͕͖̻̋͂̐̿̌ ̴̜̻̄́͌ͅc̴̣̜̰͍̜̔͛͂͌ơ̵͈̙͆r̶͖̯̜̂̆́̈́̽r̸̪̼̻̐͆̿̓̚u̶̧̟͂̄̎̀̏p̵͔̋͋t̷̹̪̰͊͜͝ì̶̲ọ̷͎͈̅̑̓̊̒ͅn̶̢̹̎͆̋̓̕.̵̤̄̇͋ ̵̝̬̰̑͑͝j̶̹̰͚̭̱͊͂͘õ̵̧̪̝̠͎̕ị̴̦͙̈́͆̈́͘͠n̵̡̳̪̤̯̉͛ ̷͓̫̑̓͊͆͜ḯ̷̧̟̯̩͑͗̋ț̸̨̪̈́̈́̎̌ͅ ̵̧̢̺͉̒j̸͙̹̼̅̌̈́̕o̷̻̓͛̇̆ī̷̘͇̽̍̅͝n̶͓̯̎ͅ ̶͈́i̷̡̝̜̻̅̾t̵͓̪̦̭̿̽͋͆͘ ̵̻̻̈́͋̀̅̆f̵̬̞͝i̷̤͗̿͜g̷̠̾͝h̷̫̭̭̆̾̎t̸̙͔̱̋́̔̆̍ ̴̻͇̟́̃̔̅͒ǐ̷̹̼̯͉̺͆t̷̹͔͘ ̸̮̈́̉̄̔̉f̷̟͌̿̅ͅȋ̴̹̺͙̥̼̔̾́ǧ̵̡̮͕ẖ̵̩́̎͌̔͘t̸̢̛̬̭̠͂̂ ̸̻̈̀͋̇͋û̷̱̟̜͈̙̔͑͒͝s̴̘̐ͅ ̶̡̺̄̏f̵̨̢̦̻̉̊̌ͅi̴̦͙̻̙͝g̴̛̗̹̀͌̑h̸̢͖̰̃͊̉̂͝t̵̜͑͒ ̵̞͙̎̾̚t̸̡̗͔̪̅͆̋̿h̷̜̟̱̣̲̔̕e̵̢̮̣̞̘̿m̷̗̪̩̅̾r̴̢̄̇͠?̶̡͔͉̫̗́̃̍̆-̶̲̅͆̚ţ̸̱̘̙̌̂̈̕͝é̸̺̞̗̭̦̿̀̚a̵̛͕̿̀ŗ̵͔͔͉̱̒́̓͠ ̶̢͖̟̼̞̂i̴͉͉̅͌͜t̴̥̲̝̂̒͌͛̾ͅm̷͎̟̜͈͊̊̈͐͝d̴͈̼̣͔̳̽͑͒͛̆ỉ̷̬͖͈ ̶͈̩͚̣̤͆̎̽e̷̛͐̏̀̒͜ ̸̳̂̅́̕t̶̨̧͝e̴̡̹̣̗͒̓̈́a̵̳͚̻̓͑̏̃̈́͜r̴̟̺̫̲̮̔͂ ̵͖͔̈ö̵̘́͐ŗ̸͖͐̓̓͘͠d̴̼̤͛e̴͇͎̅͒̍̐r̶̩̩̯̱̔̉͊̚̕ ̶̟͙̦̯͉́̓͐̂ȋ̵̡̖̳͍̼͐̐h̶͖̲̯̭̒̇͆ ̷͉͒͊̊̊r̶̮̭̉ ̴̜̜͚̠̯̆̑ć̷̰̫̟̩̏̌̈́͘ẖ̵̗̮͔͑̉̀̋͝ò̷̧̟͚̘̽s̵̬̻̬̊̈́ ̸̱̹̦̭͛̿͜r̵̫̿ḛ̶̺̤͐̃i̶͕̍h̸̢̬͈̰̓̈́͠͝ ̷͙͙̙̭̣͛̾-̴̮̘̳͎̀̌͂͌͜ ̴̫̓̒͒͠͝g̶̠͝n̶̄̉̐͜s̵̛̭̘̈́͘ ̸̍͜ą̸͎̘̱̆͋̄͝ṯ̵̠̓̋͋̌̉w̸̼̦͋͝ḙ̵̫͉̟̑̆̽̚t̷͚̤͇̠̋̈́̈̆̽'̴̛̦͎̙̑̓͐͋ő̴͎͚͈̗͈̿̂̽̍ ̷̧̨̖̤̽̈̃̈́î̸̗̗̥͕̹̓̓͊͠ ̵͚̹͓̻̳̓o̵̯̝͋̊e̵̢̯̎͗͠ỳ̸̢̼̗̻̍̽f̷̲̼̮̠̮͛͝y̶̩̻̘̒̽̚n̸̪̥͋̈́̇͗̄f̸͎̰̿̈́̾̕̕ş̸̩͌͐̾̕͜ó̷̧̼̠̬̉ͅ ̶̫̮̲̑̊̓͒̓d̶͇̬̖̄̏̓̔̀m̴̨͇̯̀t̵̬̝̜̲̔̓͂̒-̸̺̫̐́̌t̷̡̫͙̖̂ÿ̵̲̝̰́ͅṭ̸͙̙̺͂̀̎̕ ̵̟̔̒͆͗m̷̨̛̺͔̬̑̓̋͝h̴̯̝̯͕̗̄n̵̩͇̹̾̈́̈́̊̅e̶̡͇͐̋ͅw̸̪̪̆̀̈́͝ ̴̤̦̱̄̈́̐̿͐h̸̫̊̑̓̄n̵̥͎̭̜͌̌̏ͅį̷̘̥̦̌u̶͕̼̦͖͗̽̏̇̇h̸̻̗̥̩̾d̶͈̕
̴̰̞̩͓̋Ţ̴̛̄̏́͌h̵̭̮͊ȕ̶̹n̵͈̒̆̿̑ḋ̷͓͌̒ḛ̵̣̦̊͂͝ŗ̵̰̗͈͌̇̂͝.̶̢̨̭̲̋̒ ̴̡̛̐͘ͅĹ̸̬̉͑̅i̵̛̦͈͊͝ğ̵̣̰͚̟̰̾́͠h̵̨͓̺̭̾t̴͖̻̉̓́̕̕ṉ̶̼̟̗̋̌͊ͅi̵̛͈͂̕͝n̵͗̈́̿͜ǵ̸̡͔͍̰̏̿̚.̴͎̮͉̓̒͊͘ ̷̖̎̍́̓̆T̷̨͓͂̋̓̔e̴̖̗͆̀͆a̷̙̠̿̈̆̆r̸͔̳̳̪̋́̈i̴̘̊̿̌̈̀n̷̛͓̞̺̘͉g̶̨̨͉̾ ̸̢̲͋ȕ̷̡͓̘͍͍̌̈́̔p̶̧̨̛͖̽̈ ̶̨͖͐͊̀́̀b̶̥͕͎̈́͆ấ̵̛͍̀̌ť̶̯̽̽̓t̷͉͇͕͚̖̕͠͠l̸̪̮̹͙̝͆̓͂͆ȅ̶̩̗̮́̉́̃f̴͎͖̭̻̐̏̋ȉ̶͓̲̃̈̊̈e̶̤͔̞̾͛̋͘l̶̛͉̥̺̋̒̂d̸͈̤̎s̵͈͎̓͂ͅ.̸̜͗́͒ ̵̳͇̒̆͂̎̚B̵͉̠͓̥̓̋̈̕͝l̶̢̗̘͉̬̕õ̸̧̬͖̹̣͋͂͌ô̵̯̐̍̍͝d̷̮͖̓͛̃́̊.̷̛̫̻̔̃̽̎ ̵̜̰̖̰́̂̆̋͂Î̵͔̪͓̭́ň̵̺̥̌͐̿f̸̼͉̳̺̾̄i̶͉̓ͅn̴̦̬̤̭̜͛i̴̖̖͖̣̥̓̉t̸̢̫̙̒͋̀͒e̶̞̿̒̈́̈ ̸͚̇n̵̻̲͂͑̋̑͜ė̶̬͊̓o̵̹͕̗̙̓̏̓̀ͅn̷̠̽̚͝ ̷̪̌̎͑̈́h̴̰̪̯͓̠̄͘͘͝u̷͔̦͔̐̏́̀͘ë̶̡͕̞́ͅś̴̼̝͘͠ ̵̛͈̋̂̚ơ̷͕̹̑̿͛̃f̸̦̍ ̴͓̮̦͖̋̂͝ḅ̴̛̜͉̲̆͆̂̋l̸̞̜̚ŏ̶̹̪̆̉̕͝ȯ̴̡͉̖́̊͝d̵̩̠͔̪̯͊͊.̵͈͓̖̐̔̍͠ ̵̧͔͓̙̥͆͝M̸̛̱̻̗͖̈́́͂̽ő̷̳͚͖͔̌̓͠n̸̨͖͎̭̦̍ş̵̢̤̘̽̒ẗ̷̝̦̣̳͎́́́̾͠e̶̛͙̺͙̩̠͐̊͆̾r̸̨̘̩͎̭̍̊̒s̴͙̺͖̘͓̉̂͑̆̏.̶̨̀ ̵̩̇̏́̔͝À̶̫̖l̶̡̳̠̩̀̀͌͐i̴̠̙̙̣͑̓̓͒̿e̸̞͊͆̀̕͜ͅǹ̵̟̿̅͆s̶͔͔̹̐̈̿̐͠.̵̘̑̍̏̿͝ ̷̘̘̟̤̑͂̚Ȧ̸̡̨̫̼̼̒ṭ̸̹̹̎͐̕ ̶̬̻͎̒͌̒͛͘ẅ̷̢͔̹̠̺́ǎ̶̪̖́̓͝ṛ̵̡̛͖̥̅̈́̈́̂.̸͈̥̔̇̈́ ̵̨̻̣̎̓̊̾̐Ȩ̴̡̥͔͓̈́̈̏͑͝ņ̶̢̰̥͛̊̅͊͝d̵͍̣̮͜͠l̴͔͔̲̜͗̃̈͂͝ȩ̸̛̿͐̾̕s̵͎̖̿̔̚s̶̙̳͈͊ͅ ̶̧͕͙͑̈́̾f̸̟̺́̍͘̚į̷̤̬͕̪̈́̔͝g̷̳͙̦͂̆h̷̘͔̅́͠͝t̶̢̏̅̇í̵̟͍̑̿̓̽n̵̖̿͜g̵̼͓̩̀̊.̸͔̗̤͉̻̂̕͘͝ ̷̢̪̤̲̘͐́Ë̴̝͍́͘n̸̖̬̘̽͗̑d̶̮͉̹̹̖̽̎l̵̠̝͚̈́͒̾̕͝ė̶̩̞̥̗̒̐̇͑ś̷̤̗̝̃̇s̵̫̳̤͎̥͋́̀͘ ̴̛̦̙̤̦̊̈͗̀b̷̡̝̥̼̽͛ĺ̶̞͚̫͗͊o̴̪͓̣̒ͅo̷͚̲̮͎͐̾d̵̞̱̋͂͋.̶̱̮̻͉́͆́͜͠ ̴̘̊Ę̸̱͎̞͑͛̎n̸͖̯͓͛̍̓̂d̸̰̝̀̌̀͑͆ḹ̷͕͘̕͝e̶̡͖̩̻͆s̴̘̊ś̷̠̖̯͇ ̵̠̌̕͝Ḉ̷̪̯h̸̜̣̯̯̼̍̈a̷̱̽̓ǫ̴̣̀s̵̝̤͕̤̭̆͆̎̊̂.̸̖͉͔̑̃͠.̵͎̦̥̗͐ầ̶̹͎̩ ̸̼̙̀͒̀r̷͚̯̭̺͑̎t̶̗͍̻̕ͅg̶̨̤̒̄ŗ̷̝̈́̈ị̵̻̻̪̼̂l̴͉̈̌͆̐ḡ̷̻i̴̼̖̗̯̠͛̀̿͆e̵͉̬̫̞̿̏̔.̵͒̇͛̋ͅṱ̷̛͕̩͇́̑̏͒͜t̵̝̞͓͍͖́͗̎ȉ̶̜͒b̵̧̫̯͚̀̄ ̷͕̰̆̐͋s̶̢̫̹̭͋ͅd̶̪̙͂̋̆h̵̨̳̞̆̾͋̕̕n̸̨̢̙͊̌̐̋̓ ̵̳̱̈́o̴̢̢̹͉͆̋̈́.̷̡̻̆̕ȩ̷̯̘̱̐̉͌̚ ̸͈̻͍̜̄̆̌̇̕t̷̢̻̣͍͇̐̍e̸̱̣̪̠͂̓͒ͅd̷̤̀a̸͔̣̤͎͛̉͝t̴̼̻͖̓̂̀w̷̦̺͊̓̒l̴̼͍͈̆̊̈́ ̷̛̰̝̈̋̚e̵͕̋͛͝g̴̥̍̓͗͑͝h̴͎͑̍͠ḩ̷̜̣͎̟̄̆̌n̴̪̗̻̳̋͑̓ȳ̸̥̕o̵̜̻͌̓͑͆e̷̩̱̺͓̠͆͋̇̎͝õ̴͙͔̩͔͝ĕ̸̡̖̔ ̵̻͎͌͜͠͠e̴̫͙̮̗̒͝o̶̧͔̗̥̙̿̐̓͆v̴͈̭̗̯̊̚d̶̤͖͕͌ŵ̶̺̜̰͇.̵̩̜͕̠̩̀̀
.

It slept, dreams rife with bloodshed.

 
 
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Golden retriever/Mongoose hybrid Snail

#2
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%


He was awake.

It felt quiet, almost too quiet. Quiet and still. The Altar's whispers were truly whispers compared to the cacophony it'd been.

It'd been overwhelming. It'd been sickening. It'd been all consuming. It'd been like nothing before. He'd been familiar with the whispers, with the visions, for as long as he could remember- but that? That'd barely been him. It was all the Other. The whispers. His magic.

Speaking of his magic.

The lightning. It's been terrifying- a violent purple-black storm. Thinking back on it, he was surprised he hadn't gotten hit. He'd only seen magic like that a few times before. His friend was qu-

Oh.

She'd been there too.

OHNO

 
 
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#3
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%


HE'DALMOSTHURTHERHE'DALMOSTHURTHERHE'DALMOSTHE'DALMOST-

The lightning the lightning the lightning. It'd been so close. How had it been so close? If it'd struck, she could've

Could've...

He almost killed her.

Now his head was full of noise, but it was just the rush of his own blood. A deafening thrum that only seemed to magnify his thoughts, rather than drown them out.

He'd almost...

And he'd been waiting. He'd been protecting her.

When did the intent to help turn to the intent to hurt?

Was she okay? He should-

No

It'd just make things worse. Much worse.

He couldn't.

 
 
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Golden retriever/Mongoose hybrid Snail

#4
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%


He couldn't leave.

That'd started this whole mess.

He'd been gone so long. He couldn't remember how long. Very long, most likely. It'd made everything worse. But how? Was it the altar? Himself? Something in that cave? No matter what it had been.

He couldn't leave or it'd happen all over again.

Sure, he could go hunt, and get water, as he'd always done, but he could never do that. Never do whatever that had started that mess. Whatever had caused his magic to nearly consume him. Never do what'd caused him to nearly hur-

He'd stay here. He'd stay here and they'd all be safe.

(end thread)

 
 



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