01-02-2020, 10:13 PM
<center><img src="https://www.darkbeautymag.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/Jiamin-Zhu-jajasgarden-ig-tb-tw-same-Michelle-Green-ig-michelle.green_.87-h-Matt-Lawrence-ig-makahmatt-mua-Liz-Kiss-ig-lizkiss02-jwl-crw-Namiko-Abloom-namikoabloom-ig-same-Amphitrite.jpg" width=600 style="border-top-left-radius:50%;border-top-right-radius:50%"><center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Marcellus+SC' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><table width="600" bgcolor="46535B" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="10"><tr><td><center><table width="500" bgcolor="46535B" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tr><td><center><font size="1" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:14pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">An old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind
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<table width="500" bgcolor="6D9394" style="border-color: 3e3f68; border-width: 1px; border-style: solid;" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="8"><tr><td><div align="justify"><font face="times new roman" size="2" color="384556">
It was a restful slumber from which Cyprin is awakened. Her dreams are peaceful and brim with vibrant flowers like those that surround her in the Pampas. In her thoughts, she is running alongside her twin as their laughter fills the open fields with their exuberant joy.
Her body, the true one that rests in the Brilliant Pampas, is quiet and nearly motionless aside from the steady breaths that rise and fall. In her sleep, Cyprin is beautifully delicate, but a gasp of air disrupts the serenity of the meadow. Both in her dreams, running alongside Bronsonn and in the Brilliant Pampas, there is a swirl of billowing wind that whips her aside. It coldly smacks across her face, and she stirs abruptly to life. Cyprin’s legs suddenly scramble and her head jerks up from the patch of grass she rested her chin.
The surprise flashes across her eyes in a kaleidoscope of colors as she immediately rises to her feet.
Where are the flowers, she almost asks, but there is no one near enough to hear. Suddenly, Cyprin is alone. The rolling hills have receded and the lush grass has been replaced by red clay and dirt. There’s no sense hiding the confusion that reads plainly on her face as she quietly observes the barren world around her. It extends far to the horizon, this barren wasteland, and she whimpers anxiously at first before gripping onto herself and reminding herself who she is.
Muted reassurances swiftly reel across her thoughts while she blinks to determine and analyze her predicament. When she pivots, turning around, she sees the monoliths towering above her. A slow step drags her forward, then another, until she is in the shadow of the black stone. Cyprin is unaware that her abilities are suddenly gone, that even as she scrutinizes the monolith, her eyes are normal and matching the color of her gunmetal skin.
No animation. No dragon eyes.
<i>”This one,”</i> she doesn’t know why she speaks. Perhaps, it is to fill the eerie silence or to try disrupting it. The second that the words pass her lips, however, there is a flash of pain. A blinding white blots out her vision as her head pounds unbearably. Cyprin reels back and screams, nearly falling to her knees from the pain.
Within minutes, it becomes a dull ache, then nothing at all.
She blinks hesitantly and tries turning her head only to be unbalance and stumble sideways. <i>”Wh—what?”</i> She cannot look up at the markhor horns sprouting from her skull, but she can see it in her shadow when she looks down fearfully. Panic nearly overtakes her, but a long breath drawn into her lungs keeps it at bay. <i>”Okay… I’m here, and I have horns now… Ooookay.”</i> A weighted breath hisses through her teeth and a shudder runs down the length of her spine, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she just waits and wonders what she has fallen into.
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<center><font size="2" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:8px;line-height:10pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">Cyprin
<font size="1" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:14pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">lior and nayl</font></center></td></tr></table></center></center>
<center><font face="times" size="1" color="black" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:9pt">picture by Jiamin Zhu on pinterest
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brilliant pampas/loess
</center></font></center></td></tr></table>
<table width="500" bgcolor="6D9394" style="border-color: 3e3f68; border-width: 1px; border-style: solid;" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="8"><tr><td><div align="justify"><font face="times new roman" size="2" color="384556">
It was a restful slumber from which Cyprin is awakened. Her dreams are peaceful and brim with vibrant flowers like those that surround her in the Pampas. In her thoughts, she is running alongside her twin as their laughter fills the open fields with their exuberant joy.
Her body, the true one that rests in the Brilliant Pampas, is quiet and nearly motionless aside from the steady breaths that rise and fall. In her sleep, Cyprin is beautifully delicate, but a gasp of air disrupts the serenity of the meadow. Both in her dreams, running alongside Bronsonn and in the Brilliant Pampas, there is a swirl of billowing wind that whips her aside. It coldly smacks across her face, and she stirs abruptly to life. Cyprin’s legs suddenly scramble and her head jerks up from the patch of grass she rested her chin.
The surprise flashes across her eyes in a kaleidoscope of colors as she immediately rises to her feet.
Where are the flowers, she almost asks, but there is no one near enough to hear. Suddenly, Cyprin is alone. The rolling hills have receded and the lush grass has been replaced by red clay and dirt. There’s no sense hiding the confusion that reads plainly on her face as she quietly observes the barren world around her. It extends far to the horizon, this barren wasteland, and she whimpers anxiously at first before gripping onto herself and reminding herself who she is.
Muted reassurances swiftly reel across her thoughts while she blinks to determine and analyze her predicament. When she pivots, turning around, she sees the monoliths towering above her. A slow step drags her forward, then another, until she is in the shadow of the black stone. Cyprin is unaware that her abilities are suddenly gone, that even as she scrutinizes the monolith, her eyes are normal and matching the color of her gunmetal skin.
No animation. No dragon eyes.
<i>”This one,”</i> she doesn’t know why she speaks. Perhaps, it is to fill the eerie silence or to try disrupting it. The second that the words pass her lips, however, there is a flash of pain. A blinding white blots out her vision as her head pounds unbearably. Cyprin reels back and screams, nearly falling to her knees from the pain.
Within minutes, it becomes a dull ache, then nothing at all.
She blinks hesitantly and tries turning her head only to be unbalance and stumble sideways. <i>”Wh—what?”</i> She cannot look up at the markhor horns sprouting from her skull, but she can see it in her shadow when she looks down fearfully. Panic nearly overtakes her, but a long breath drawn into her lungs keeps it at bay. <i>”Okay… I’m here, and I have horns now… Ooookay.”</i> A weighted breath hisses through her teeth and a shudder runs down the length of her spine, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she just waits and wonders what she has fallen into.
</font></div></td></tr></table>
<center><font size="2" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:8px;line-height:10pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">Cyprin
<font size="1" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:14pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">lior and nayl</font></center></td></tr></table></center></center>
<center><font face="times" size="1" color="black" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:9pt">picture by Jiamin Zhu on pinterest
</font></center></div></table>
brilliant pampas/loess