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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial][ lmao ANNA GET PESTILENCE HERE NOW]


    oh? what was this? a presence the horseman knew all too well yet none of. it was a nice presence. warm. comforting. home-y. and they hated it. the horseman had a job to do. to create conflict and now it would be al the harder with the messiah running around. not to say this horseman would do anything. personally, they didn't mind the lamb. war created the conflict and jesus cleaned up their mess before death could swoop in. truth be told it probably made the most eternal of the horsemen angry. the messiah promised life everlasting while death promised an end to everything. poetic, was it not?


    "sweetheart, their parents were not jesus-freaks as so many of you put it. or i suppose in a sense they were but this is no parent's wanna be baby," remarks the fiery horseman with a chuckle. honestly, it should be no surprise the messiah was here to try and sway these blood-thirsty villains towards the light. their bloody and vicious histories had drawn war to this very place for that exact reason. it would be an interesting living situation but if jesus did manage to sway the exilers' stony hearts it would provide war with a new battlefield and soldier to manipulate as thy pleased in the future. stay or go, war could still have some serious fun.


    doe brown eyes would sweep over the growing crowd with curiosity. how many of these sinful mortals would see the light? how many would even dare to humor the notion that this was true and real. that the messiah had returned to save them? the norwegian ridgeback would then remain standing in their own gap between the messiah and the crowd. there was no true need to pick sides for their were none, not yet at least.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]JESUS IS IN THE EXILES KIDS
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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial][ guuuysss - f*ing jesus is in the exiles rn and i can't - ADY U GOTTA GO
    -ady i'm dead smh ]


    well lookie what they had here. it was one of heaven's most problematic. father did they enjoy watching the sh*tstorm that followed the angel. better yet, it seemed that their very presence was p*ssing the temperamental soul keeper off. oh how glad war was they decided to hop by for a quick visit. quite honestly, they found it adorable that the self-proclaimed god had straightened up upon seeing them. it wasn't like they could kill war. only death could kill horsemen with god's, the real god's permission. whom despite their own reaping the horseman would listen follow. a true soldier stays loyal to their commander no matter what. and just because some flashy angel took over meant nothing to the horseman. kill one of them, and the whole system would fall.


    flashing white death a smug look, the norwegian ridgeback's mundane form would melt away to reveal their own living pelt hidding underneath. personally, they still found this form boring. walking lava with war-worn iron armor? a bit too medieval, but it was the purest of their forms the mortal eye could handle so why not make use of it? besides, war was here to have a bit of fun. check out what was going on in the once feared colouredclan and it's notorious resident angel.


    "i was curious to see how this place was doing since my last visit, and quite frankly i am disappointed. it was during so much better during the wartimes. some of my best work among the clans really considering how many other groups managed to get pulled into the fight," remarks the horseman before they lazily shift their gaze towards tara as they approach. p*ssed would be an understatement. for some reason, most creatures seemed to despite their presence in such calm times. it was a shame really, but it did provide war with clean slates to work with before their siblings showed up. pestilence was following them around like the disease they were, messing with their plans. killing off their playthings.


    "for the time being, call me ma'aracha." the hebrew word for war. despite their intense appearance, they were not very big on pronouncing their powerful, universal status. they left that for the rest of their siblings, more specifically death and pestilence, such drama queens, the both of them. "and i am here to temporarily join as our great messiah currently resides in my current clan of interest. i can only assume they shall be moving along soon enough and i would rather not get in each other's way," replies the crimson-eyed beast as they look on at the mortal with an unnaturally calm expression. "you understand, do you not, ambael? i promise to not cause any more trouble than that which rests deep inside the violent nature of the supernatural and mortals residing here. this place really has little interest for me. though, i am sure things will get interesting once famine or pestilence comes along. this place is rather dull, do you not think?"


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]it matters not, war is everywhere these days


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]"i would stray from saying with. it's more of a coincidence that they are here as well," rumbles the dog as they glance towards the fem with a neutral expression. no, war did not companion pestilence bringing love and peace to the clans. quite the opposite really, even more so than their sibling. chaos and hatred were the reason they got up in the morning, if horsemen needed to sleep that was.


    as for their own name, war would merely shake their heads. death? no thank you. they would much rather than an ending one day as it was foretold than be stuck watching the lives of mortals and the supernatural alike move on to the next world together without being forced to stay behind by their lonesome. "currently, death is making nice with the winchesters again in riverclan," remarks war with a glance towards their sibling. why death insisted on poking the two hunters was beyond them. best leave those two alone and let each go along their merry way.


    "i am guerra, war, ma'archa, agha, et cetera." they didn't really have a name. none of the horsemen did. just variations of the destructive force they were created to control and dictate as they so pleased. as long as it meant war, the horseman was fine.


    [ rushing due to dying laptop ]
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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]noting the hardening of the high angel's gaze, the horseman would merely offer them a smile as the warning was spat out. oh silly. they were of the creation. made to help dictate the mortal realms. if anything, they were just fulfilling their god-given purpose. was it that hard to comprehend? they were father's replacement were they not? they knew the horsemen's presence was necessary time to time. what was the harm anyways? they merely stirred the primal nature hiding beneath these creature's domesticated shields. "where my siblings chose to go or not go is beyond my power to control. we follow the desires of the mortals, or at least i do. if you want me gone then change their souls." was that really how it worked? half the time yes. war could just as easily initiate conflict on their own if they so pleased.


    however, war did find it irritating ambael would bring up the winchesters, considering the eldest had just escaped purgatory once more and now the dynamic duo was back. "we all came out fine. if it bothers you so much then run off to riverclan. death's poking at the winchesters as we speak. not to mention the eldest of the two just escaped purgatory. you really might want to look into death's credibility for their job. how many times have they come back? not to mention gabriel's little tuesday hay day." the winchesters. personally war liked them. they stirred sh*t up. they didn't even have to do anything to get those boys to make a third side in the war between heaven and hell.


    "unfortunately yes. they're trying to save all of pestilence's and my playthings. it's quite rude actually, i was rather beginning to enjoy the exiles. those souls are blood-thirsty enough on their own to keep me busy," hums the horseman with a wishful sigh. thankfully it was just pestilence. the favorite of their siblings. they were the unexpected curveball meanwhile famine just weakened everything and death stole away all of their toys.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]a raid? how long had it been? far too long in the archangel's book. father would they be rusty, but his main body had to heal some how right? giving a nod, the retriever would shift into their winged wolf form before teleporting off to join the fight.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]amber eyes blink once as they take in the battle before them. inhaling, the winged wolf would stand at the ready in a quick track post as they surveyed the fight to see where they could help.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]never


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]of course it was intriguing. weren't they suppose to be the new god? perhaps conversation. war was no fool despite their occasional brash actions, they knew better than to try and find all of the angel's buttons. "they intrigue me, yes, but they do not need me to follow through with such desires." beautiful, was it not? somewhere long the way, war had touched part of their souls, their ancestors souls to make this happening possible.


    ignoring ambael's visible discomfort at the mention of the names, the horseman would wait quietly until the angel met their gaze again. really, they were hear to bide their time for a while to see what jesus would do. blinking at their glower, war would go on to answer the question unfazed. while they could appreciate intimidation, it failed to bother the horseman. they wouldn't do anything. war was a way of life that would be forgotten in a new world when the time came.


    at the mention of their sibling, the horseman would let out a huff of unhidden irritation. as much as they loved pestilence in their abilities and persona, they could be burdensome when they were unwanted as all siblings were. "indeed. they are concocting up a new sort of plague. i can only hope it failed to destroy them entirely. i quite look forward to seeing what they do with the bloodclan leader or who they raid next. their army is far past qualified to invade another group, it would be a shame to lose them to pestilence's experimental new illness."


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial][size=10][/size]taking this quote for safe keeping


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]OMG WHERE ARE THEY
    WHERE IS LAF


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]pathetic? oh no dear, they had it all backwards. they were the pathetic one. mortals had such big heads when it came to battle, even against the immortal beings that walked the earth along side of them. personally, the horseman would love to see one of them try and last against something of their legendary experience in war. a full second maybe? the burden of being the bringer of war couldn't hold such a title without rather extreme abilities in the combat compartment.


    with a flick of their tail, the horseman would appear, doe brown eyes scrutinizing the bloody-hungry child with a smug look. war had favorites. they were fluid in their status but they had them. battle favored the stronger, smarter force over the weak, pathetic children they were up against. [color=#2d2325b]"we you say fight you i can only sadly assume you mean it in a sparring sense,"[/color] remarks the ridgeback with a sigh. it was a real shame even the fiercest of the clans failed to condone drawing blood. now the romans, those humans knew what they were doing -turning combat into entertainment for all to enjoy. perhaps they would find someone worthy to organize such a thing here one day.


    looking away from the favored ruffian, the horseman would watch for anyone else who dared take on the boy's challenge. or anyone who wanted to spar in general. with any luck pestilence would appear. they were one of the few who could rally back against war's own advances.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]war often found it amusing when the most innocent of creatures ended up being some of the most dangerous. no one ever suspected a thing which was why the horseman often praised those who trained children in combat. no one wanted to kill a child, not anyone with decent morals at least. it worked out perfectly in the powerful being's mind. which was half the reason the horseman had sought out the young demon.


    conflict was their specialty. war knew as to the list of fights and battles being fought across the god-given universe, even the small verbals one. it should be no surprise to anyone that war knew of nora's endeavors as the demon called herself. they had been busy since their own creation a century or so ago. how odd it would be to the mortals of this world to hear someone refer to a century-old being as a baby but that was the way of the supernatural.


    in a rush of dark red feathers, the crow would land before the child before shifting into their truer form of the fiery hellhound. crimson eyes would fall upon the reclining demon, hinting as the mischievous nature behind them as their iron armor rises out of the boiling lava that made up their body. "my, my, are you not the busy one, my dear?" rumbles the fiery beast as they look down at the assassin. working for hire and killing the employer. if that wasn't a conflict of interests they didn't know what was. it wasn't exactly a battle but it did cause problems. and all wars stemmed from a conflicting of opposing interests. in this case it happened to be lives.


    no. it wasn't war, but they did spill blood. they had the makings of a great assassin and from the horseman had witnessed they were good at what they did. a bit sloppy at times, but effective none the less. who said warriors had to be clean?


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]hearing their statement, war lets out a laugh. spars are for sissies. they could appreciate that. it was for sissies to scared of what an actual fight might bring them. not to say they disapproved entirely, children had to learn how to fight some how if their parents would be too fearful of a true engagement. "right you are, kid," rumbles the dog well aware that the co-inhabitants of the child's body were far closer to their own age than anyone else here.


    turning away from the eager warrior, the horseman would watch as the others arrived and gave their own input. oh how they would love to see this "cub" face off with the others in a real fight. more than likely half of these self-centered mortals would succumb to the demon-riddled child.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]another torture? was god not good? raids, fights, torture, captures? what had war done to deserve stumbling upon a clan so susceptible to their influence. beautiful. just beautiful. this was how mortals were meant to be. blood-thirsty. they craved war. they thrived in war, the strong ones did at least, the weak ones would succumb of one of their other siblings -they were no one.


    taking obvious pleasure in the moment, the hellhound would pad over, the rattling of their iron armor just barely audible over the boiling of the molten lava that made up the fiery horseman. crimson eyes found the captive as they stand in what they predicted to be the splash zone as they waited for the show to begin. just think of the angst and hatred with would bring between the two clans? especially since this one happened to be the child of the blizzardclan leader.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]in a flurry of red feathers, the crow would perch itself atop a prominent ledge in blizzard clan's camp. was this trespassing? oh most definitely. did they care? no. they were a horseman, no one could kill them except death- maybe not even then.


    crimson eyes study the bustling camp with indifference. they had a mission to fulfill. they had no care for the mortals that frequented this area, just one. the clan's leader. letting out a loud screech, the horseman of war would aim to draw in the attention of the blizzardclanners. "it is a real shame you lack the abilities to defend children. more importantly the child of your dear leader tama." the kin of the leader should be protected before all else according to most cultures. "i would get to the exiles before blaine goes somewhere they cannot return from."


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]"it is most certainly true,"caws the red bird with a scoff. they were not deaf. they could hear perfectly fine. part of it mind be the heightened awareness of the the universe but they heard that comment. how rude. war had traveled out of their way on their journey to see death and chuck to make this announcement.


    speaking in third person? that was a bit old now was it not? personally, they found it rather annoying. it was far too dramatic for the bringer of war to bother with. "how about out of the goodness of my heart?" snorts the bird rolling their eyes. they were always so quick to question rather than action. "but if you want to leave your kid there until the exilers are done with them so be it. i will say you are worse than my own parent," remarks the crow before spreading their wings and taking off to continue their journey. they had done their part, now it was time for war to sit back and watch. hopefully blizzardclan would do something and not just roll over. it was about time they started contributing to the mass chaos that had begun to ensue.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]if you haven't seen the threads, the four horsemen are here and i have the joy of being war. loosely based off war from supernatural. they're here to start some sh*t and being the manipulative *ss they are will bend someone's brain to fulfill their own purpose. they will also assist in the creation of a war or conflict.


    they're open to everything except being permanently killed.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt;][justify][font=arial]in unhidden pleasure, the horseman would watch the exchanges. they were already fighting, over fighting. oh father thank you wherever you were. thank you exilers for having such dark hearts.


    turning crimson orbs back on the demon possessed child as they make their comment, the horseman would chuckle. even centuries old demons were nothing to the immortal being. which was part of the reason war had mortal doing the fighting for them. easy battles were no fun. it was like challenging an infant to a game of chess. boring. easy. a waste of their time. "for you maybe."


    turning away from the cub, the horseman would watch road butts in. all these exilers had spunk! oh how they did enjoy this place. perhaps they would call this their main base for a while. pestilence wouldn't be staying long. not with chuck's return and the winchesters running around. no, pestilence would surely be traveling, that was the way of disease while war haunted a land for centuries to come.


    "i am going to pass on the fighting. it gets rather boring to directly fight with your kind."


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