War, Famine, Pestilent, and Death. Ravaging the world beneath them as they rode through the crumbling earth, bringing forth devastation, the apocalypse behind their thundering hooves. No soul unaffected after the most horrid punishment that could have rained down upon them. Only for the horsemen to be destroyed, their lives ended after bringing forth the ultimate power. They done it for reason, they always do, sacrificing themselves in order to give the earth a chance to be reborn anew.



Somewhere in that old world, ruled by the internet, robotics, with the media running through their veins. There lay someone, anyone, four humans that can step it up. To leave their human skin and become gods, to ride through worlds for hundreds of years, waiting to give the ultimate punishment when the time has come. Chosen by a careful hand, they will fight to gain their titles and leave the wounded earth behind. Four will be chosen, four will never go back, and four will ride.



Welcome future horsemen, and women. The world has been destroyed due to the horsemen that had waited and watched the earth become too far in it's own ways, humans ripping itself apart from the inside and refusing to acknowledge the damage that they were doing. Humanity is now just a faded, broken mirror of it's former self. Once a glimmering gem that had gone above and beyond in technology, wiped away in mere moments. Now the horsemen are gone, turned to dust, awaiting to be replaced so that the cycle may start once again. And that may very well be you.
It is up to you to try and rise to take the place of the horsemen. Who would you be? War? Famine? Pestilence? Or even Death itself. It is up to you to fight for the title and prove your worth.

A wispy creature offers you a vile of clear liquid. Instructing you with soft spoken words, drink the substance to fall to sleep, allowing your soul to slip from your body. Will you drink, or will you continue to walk the abandoned plains?

Rules:
They are nothing special. No god modding, no harassment. If you are caught being disrespectful and starting fights with other players, I will kill your character. Don't freak out, I have patients though.

War had been the first to stir. Humanity fighting at each other's throats for centuries causing him to be reborn. At first he was content, blades of steel, arrows of iron. They were always over petty quarrels in his eyes. Yet they were simple, small occurrences that had caused no harm except to themselves.
Yet as Humanity began to evolve, so did their weapons. Blades turned to guns, arrows turned to ammunition, and the battle field began to rip apart due to nuclear weaponry that caused the world to crumble. That was when they began to go to far in his eyes. The earth itself would no hold out much longer under such strain, yet he could not act alone.
So he waited, chained to the earth while he could have went to watch over some other land, some other world. Thinking less of humanity with each and every breath.

With war came disease. Pestilence was not long to stir after his brother had woken. Battle after battle had began to leave new illnesses in their wake. Those who are unlucky enough to live in the battle field and nuclear cities were born with sickness in their veins. This alone was not enough to capture the Rider's attention, simply enough to cause him to listen to his brother and nothing more.

It was not until humanity began to purposely create disease. Entire civilizations, wiped out over weaponry as thin as mist. Humanity began to play the role of gods, and they were not content, destroying all plant life, all species of creation in order to fulfil their own selfish ideals of who can kill the world even faster. This was not a species that could continue. And so he began to stand by his brother, all too impatient to destroy the stain on the universe.

Death

Color me intrigued. I'll see if i can produce a CS

@AdobeFlash

Spot is more then open for ya then. :)

boop

bimp