Cripple Joe, being rocketed through the high skies of Earth for unknown reasons, even to me, the pseudo-GM of this literal shitfest. Well, due to the story needing it, of course. But cognitive reasoning isn't exactly this roleplay's forte. Crippled Joe's exact speed, 88 kilometers per parsec, would melt any human. But Cripple Joe is no ordinary human. He is the former Absque soldier, serving in 2 wars. That's a shitton of deaths. And being exposed to these deaths made Cripple Joe immune to all known forms of ventriloquism. Back to the present. Cripple Joe was somewhere over the South Pacific but now he's over mainland Americaland because kilometers are different from miles.

Interesting fact about Cripple Joe: He has no eyes. So he did not see Harambe flying before him. Cripple Joe flew into Harambe with all the might of a crippled old alien hitting a cement wall with his little crippled fists. Unfortunately for Harambe, Crippled Joe had entered the High Skies, which automatically made him a hipbone and appendix of Primordial Matrices. And Crippled Joe was a significant source of fiber. So Harambe was knocked out cold. And Crippled Joe fell to Earth.

Crippled Joe fell on top of Otto.

A massive black pot, in a darker room, which was lit only by six-hundred-and-sixty-six-point-six-six-six-six-six-etc-etc-etc-ad-infinitum candles was inhabited by only one ungotten mortal, a manchild who called himself--and was named--Dark Horse. The room flickered, the liquid in the pot stewed and boiled over the wood-begotten fire. The Great Untouchable Emo, Master of Lurking, and to be lord of Darkness, raised his hand as he muttered in latin--and swahili and hebrew depending on the moment and the words or phrasing. In that moment of raised-handed-ness, a fire erupted from his palm, then was quickly doused as he flinched away from it, shaking his head. "Shit, ow ow, fuck. Goddammit, botched the spell. Uh...uh," he had taken out his spellbook, which he rifled through, finding the page. He nodded a few times, muttering to himself. Then, nodding once more and setting the book on the ground, he began his chant once more. This time the flame lit in the palm of his hand and did not burn him. The fire's light bent and warped and spread out over the dark room, revealing that it appeared to possess no walls, only a ceiling and floor...though both of them almost seemed as if one could never reach them--despite the fact that Dark Horse now stood on the floor. With the light and the candles it appeared as if he stood on a raised platform, upon which a myriad of sigils were inscribed, as well as arcane text specifically in comic sans font--Dark Horse had some very wel developed skills when it came to penmanship it seemed.

Smiling as the flame in his hand revealed the whimpering gotten children, which were tied up so that each child's arms were tied to the next child's legs so that they formed a circle around the flame. He was sure it was searing hot. However, despite the fear in their whimpers, their eyes were blank and unseeing.

They had been unmanned and unwomaned, they were inhuman now...alien, and in their alienness they were beautiful. He wished everyone could see what he did in the Gotten Children, but alas the normies were but shitstains on the world, obsessed with getting kid--the filthy plebeians. He shuddered.

Turning his mind away from such disgusting beings, Dark Horse realized he'd been chanting the whole time. It was a good thign he'd checked his spellbook and had a good memory, or he might have screwed up his ritual like the last six-hundred-and-sixty-five times, and that would be six-hundred-and-sixty-six times worse than normal since this particular ritual fell on the date six/6-slash-twenty-sixteenth and was also the six-hundred-and-sixty-6th ritual, making it a particularly powerful ritual indeed.

It was then that he realized that his thoughts had drifted again. He swore to the All-Dark, hoping he hadn't fucked up as he continued on. "Alcetanas, vaerhune Mr'lhk'maekaroi," he said in the most Eldritch of Tongues, which was known to the common folk as "Gibberish," the fools that they were, he thought with a laugh...well, a silent laugh as laughing would fuck up the vibe he had going what with the dark room and the candles and the children and the mystery and whatnot.

Dammit he had drifted off again. Then he realized it, he was succeeding, he knew because a great rift had opened in the space above the black witch's pot. The liquid in the pot swirled and boiled and bubbled and spit, and chortled, and rolled in the deep(ths) of its own disgusting eldritch substanc(ees)e. He smiled evilly, his eyes glinting as his chants took on greater fervor, causing the rend in the Allworld to open further. He could feel the Matrixnodes bending to his will, he could feel the Riftstrain he was opening widening and tearing an outrift GREATER RIFT into the fabric of being itself.

And then it all went to shit. The candles flared up into oblivion, the flame in his hand began burning him, traveling down his arm, his eyes shone with a feverish pitch as he stared in awe and terror at the fire and the rift he'd opened.

Then, as if to punctuate his success, came a secondary success as he was pulled into a vision-------------
As if looking from afar, Dark Horse saw another man, clearly a normie obssessed with getting kid--he could see it in his eyes--rush into a hallway where several infernal beings of goodness and kidding stood. Dark Horse almost retched, but managed to keep his stomach as he saw Otto ask what was going on before he felt the ripple of the Riftstrain spread into the place that he suddenly realized was leagues above him. Then his view shif----
-----ted back to his own form befo----

---

----re being shot to what he for some reason knew was Australia. He saw a small monkey being carried by a black normie, who was followed by a tall albino normie before his perception was tor------------

---

------------nnnn Agh fuck, seriously this is disorienting why are you doiiing this to m--------

---

-------eeee, Goddammit man. What, this isn't important, that's just some random white guy juggling why are you showing me thiiii---------------

---

-----AAAAAAAhhhhh FFFFFf---

---

------UUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCKKKK. Oh my god, I can see HIM, I can see the INFERNAL ONE, no please don't take me away, this is bliss, this is the place, my purpose. I must stay here to take control with a ritual. No no please, stop it hurts, I can't feel my legs when I'm with you. Why, I need this, helpppppppppp--------

---

---pppppisshitdickmotherfuckerWHY! Oh, what? Is that a person flying down towards that Hospital? was I just here? Oh, I'm above the Hospital where the Normie warriors are. Okay. I mean...if you could even call them warriors...normie scum. Wait, is the RiftstrainWiggleGiggleRipple causing that guy to.... Oh my god, he hit Harambe. Oh my god, he's falling.

Oh my god, I need to write about this in my journal, one sec-----
ccc. Okay, here we go, he thought as he slammed down into his body. He immediately extracted his journal and feverishly began writing before he was once again NO, NO FUCK YOU NARRATOR, I AM FINISHING THIS ENTRY.

But...the vision isn't over.

NO, FUCK OFF.

God, fine, no vision for you then...I'll just go away.

GOOD.

Now where was I....

.

.

.

.

What

.

.

What is going on?

.

.

Oh fuck you narrator--

.

.

--r, wow. This is so childish. Fine, come back, we'll do your fucking stupid normie vision bullshit.

Good. Bitch. Just remember who the real master is here.

------

---

-------Wait what? Fuck you Narrotor.

Haha, just kidding-----

---

--Are we? Oh good. So yeah, I see weird guy hit Harambe mid-air, and then fall down towards that normie warrior. Wait...so I caused this? I may K.O one of the warriors who seek to defeat the INFERNAL ONE. Sweetnessss----------
----aaand we're back. God that's weird.

I know right?

Yeah...this is weird, we're going to stop talking now.

Fine then. Just remember, narrator is the master, not you.

Black Horse proceeds to roll his eyes, ignoring the narrator for now...while he can (noodle bitch)..."Dammit," he says aloud, noticing that his entire body is briefly a noddle, before becoming human again. Then he noticed he was engulfed in unholy fire.

"Wait, what the fuck, this isn't supposed to happee--------aaaaaaaahhhhhh," and then the intense pain of being very much on fire hit him.

Then, before the fo-o-o-oooolish hoomen could close the Riftstrain portal, Red's talons tug into space itself and tore free. Unlike its pure siblings, Red possessed some form--largely due to it being tied to more visceral and physical things. It was fire, it was pain, it was love, it was blood, it was passion, it was spaghetti sauce, it was the Red Sea--even if the Red Sea wasn't actually really _{-̡͍͙͔͖̲̭͕̱͙͓̜̩̫̳̦̳͔̙ͪ̀̎̊͂͑ͤ͋̈́̑̈̎̈́ͪ̽͟͞͠-ͭ̌̃̇̑̏̂̋̔ͦͪ͋̔̈́̽͏̢͏͖̱̜͉͠}R̴̛͍͙̤͓͙͖̪̻̫͍͕̬̪͈͕̩̤̠̊̐̉͗̾̀̕͡_{-̓́͌͐ͦ̃̇ͯͧ̈ͭͦ̄͏̧̕͏͚̱͍̠̞̦͖͙̮̘͈͔͎͍̬̞͈̣-̥̰̭̖͓̻͕̱͈̰ͪ͌̾̀͑͡͡} E D .

Its _{-̡͍͙͔͖̲̭͕̱͙͓̜̩̫̳̦̳͔̙ͪ̀̎̊͂͑ͤ͋̈́̑̈̎̈́ͪ̽͟͞͠-ͭ̌̃̇̑̏̂̋̔ͦͪ͋̔̈́̽͏̢͏͖̱̜͉͠}R̴̛͍͙̤͓͙͖̪̻̫͍͕̬̪͈͕̩̤̠̊̐̉͗̾̀̕͡_{-̓́͌͐ͦ̃̇ͯͧ̈ͭͦ̄͏̧̕͏͚̱͍̠̞̦͖͙̮̘͈͔͎͍̬̞͈̣-̥̰̭̖͓̻͕̱͈̰ͪ͌̾̀͑͡͡} E D pupils and irises turning towards the human and around the falsely huge room, the RAPACIOUS, RAVENOUS, RAVENENT that was Red, pulled itself from the portal, a smile spreading over its great Redness, tearing another Riftstrain as it did so. Tiny Red Ants flowed from the Riftstrain and devoured all the fire in the room, and devoured the pain, and the red damaged skin--or at least its concept--removing the pain from the Infidel that was this boy. What was his name? Dark Horse?

What a foolish creature it was. "My'lyrikrul self thank'kruijay s----------sssss---------cccc----------uuuck your soul ou-------townhouse," Red said thankfully, its grin closing and the Riftstrain it had formed--and was--doing the same in that same moment.

Then time glitched, for some clocks were _{-̡͍͙͔͖̲̭͕̱͙͓̜̩̫̳̦̳͔̙ͪ̀̎̊͂͑ͤ͋̈́̑̈̎̈́ͪ̽͟͞͠-ͭ̌̃̇̑̏̂̋̔ͦͪ͋̔̈́̽͏̢͏͖̱̜͉͠}R̴̛͍͙̤͓͙͖̪̻̫͍͕̬̪͈͕̩̤̠̊̐̉͗̾̀̕͡_{-̓́͌͐ͦ̃̇ͯͧ̈ͭͦ̄͏̧̕͏͚̱͍̠̞̦͖͙̮̘͈͔͎͍̬̞͈̣-̥̰̭̖͓̻͕̱͈̰ͪ͌̾̀͑͡͡} E D . Then Earth glitched, for some Earths were _{-̡͍͙͔͖̲̭͕̱͙͓̜̩̫̳̦̳͔̙ͪ̀̎̊͂͑ͤ͋̈́̑̈̎̈́ͪ̽͟͞͠-ͭ̌̃̇̑̏̂̋̔ͦͪ͋̔̈́̽͏̢͏͖̱̜͉͠}R̴̛͍͙̤͓͙͖̪̻̫͍͕̬̪͈͕̩̤̠̊̐̉͗̾̀̕͡_{-̓́͌͐ͦ̃̇ͯͧ̈ͭͦ̄͏̧̕͏͚̱͍̠̞̦͖͙̮̘͈͔͎͍̬̞͈̣-̥̰̭̖͓̻͕̱͈̰ͪ͌̾̀͑͡͡} E D even if they were not YELLO-ow-OW-OW-OW----worldo---do-do-does it----it---it-tie---either----erase----ase---ase---ace.

"DAMMI-I-IT ALLL," the corrupted Pillar of Color screeched, its voice tearing through the entirety of existence, infecting more children, and more blood than it ought to have been able. The color Raged briefly, taking Dark Horse apart and putting him back together before leaving him alone, its form crawling through the various red rocks in the ground as it made its way for the surface.

It wanted more, it wanted less, it wanted to wa-a-a-ash itself. It wished to corrupt this world, the AllWorld and its shitstain Myriad Realities.

Meanwhile, recovering, Red knew that Dark Horse would be rejoicing, but he shouldn't have been for he was corrupted now too, and Red had no intention of allowing the puny human to control it, or its master the INFERNAL CHILDBEING.

"I will waaaash this world of its siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiins. HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA."

rED HaD ARRiveD, AND THERE WOULD BE NOWHERE TO rUN sooOOON.

k

Due to Dark Horse's Ritual "Success", he loses one singular hair pigment, leaving him with really ugly hair but only if you look reeeaaallllyyyy closely.

Cripple Joe, being crippled, felt very little from the fall. He did, however, not fall on top of Otto Lancaza as previously believed. He had in fact fallen on top of Jefferson. Now Jefferson would have to react. How diabolical.