10-01-2018, 06:34 PM
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Allura|Jaldi' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style type="text/css"> .bright_container {width: 550px; border: solid 1px #000; background-color: #22211F; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 1px black; } .bright_text {width: 500px; background-color: #99AD8A; border-radius: 50px 50px 0 0; margin-top: -95px; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 1px black; } .bright_container p { margin: 0; } .bright_image {height:800px;width:550px; background-image:url('https://s26.postimg.cc/bhvjotyrd/bright.jpg');} .bright_message { text-align: justify; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; padding: 0px 35px; color: #262722; } .bright_name { font: 80px 'Allura', cursive; color: #414234; text-align: center; } .bright_quote { font: 11px 'Jaldi', serif; color: #414234; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 1.1em; letter-spacing: 1px; padding-top: 20px; } .bright_grad-bg {width: 550px; height: 300px; background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(34,33,31,0) 0%, rgba(34,33,31,1) 100%); background: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%,rgba(34,33,31,0)), color-stop(100%,rgba(34,33,31,1))); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(34,33,31,0) 0%,rgba(34,33,31,1) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(34,33,31,0) 0%,rgba(34,33,31,1) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(34,33,31,0) 0%,rgba(34,33,31,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(34,33,31,0) 0%,rgba(34,33,31,1) 100%); filter: progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#0022211f', endColorstr='#22211f',GradientType=0 ); margin-top:-300px;} </style> <center> <div class="bright_container"><div class="bright_image"></div><div class="bright_grad-bg"></div><div class="bright_text"> <p class="bright_quote">with her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean <br>she's the angel of small death and the codeine scene</p> <p class="bright_message">
She is drained when they reappear again, stumbling to a heaving halt while she focuses all her effort on making sure the boy lands gently by her side. Her boy. Her boy? It is still unfathomable to her how a thing like this could happen, how just <i>yesterday</i> he didn’t exist, meant less than nothing in his lack of being. Yet now he is hers, wholly hers, and she would willingly end worlds for him. She reaches down to touch her lips to his ears, breathe in the sweet scent on his mane - her scent, and Ruan’s, theirs together as though he had come from them.
He had -
And he hadn’t.
But it was all the world would ever know of his being, draped in the mask of Ruan’s colors and with her milk beaded on his delicate whiskers. He was theirs.
She is less careful with the block of ice when it thuds down inside the cave behind them. Flicks an ear back with a look of sour irritation spreading across the white and amethyst of her face. A block of ice, really? But then she turns to look at it again - and though it’s thick and completely fogged through, she can still picture the pair hidden inside. Ruan, quiet and stoic as ever, curled defensively around his delicate glass daughter in a moment of frozen instinct. Always a guardian, that man.
With the block safely tucked away inside the cave, hidden from prying eyes and the elements and scorned gods alike, she turns her attention back on the small spotted boy standing at her legs. He seems okay, maybe a little dazed by the magic that had teleported them here, but there is no sign of injury on him that she can find or sense, no reason for her to be ending any worlds on his behalf quite yet.
Her lips touch the crest of his neck, huff soft breath against the smooth smokey black and travel further down the length of his spine to the spattering of purple across his ribs and rump. There is an unfamiliar sense of pleasure that he looks like her, that she can claim him as her blood by those markings. <i>“My Rian.”</i> She reminds him with a nuzzle, shifting to nudge him back towards the heavy bag at her belly. There was no way for her to know how much her magic had taken out of him, if it had tried to take from him as she came up empty. He should nurse, take his fill, and then they can find a spot to curl up together.
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XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#0022211f', endColorstr='#22211f',GradientType=0 ); margin-top:-300px;} </style> <center> <div class="bright_container"><div class="bright_image"></div><div class="bright_grad-bg"></div><div class="bright_text"> <p class="bright_quote">with her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean <br>she's the angel of small death and the codeine scene</p> <p class="bright_message"> She is drained when they reappear again, stumbling to a heaving halt while she focuses all her effort on making sure the boy lands gently by her side. Her boy. Her boy? It is still unfathomable to her how a thing like this could happen, how just <i>yesterday</i> he didn’t exist, meant less than nothing in his lack of being. Yet now he is hers, wholly hers, and she would willingly end worlds for him. She reaches down to touch her lips to his ears, breathe in the sweet scent on his mane - her scent, and Ruan’s, theirs together as though he had come from them.
He had -
And he hadn’t.
But it was all the world would ever know of his being, draped in the mask of Ruan’s colors and with her milk beaded on his delicate whiskers. He was theirs.
She is less careful with the block of ice when it thuds down inside the cave behind them. Flicks an ear back with a look of sour irritation spreading across the white and amethyst of her face. A block of ice, really? But then she turns to look at it again - and though it’s thick and completely fogged through, she can still picture the pair hidden inside. Ruan, quiet and stoic as ever, curled defensively around his delicate glass daughter in a moment of frozen instinct. Always a guardian, that man.
With the block safely tucked away inside the cave, hidden from prying eyes and the elements and scorned gods alike, she turns her attention back on the small spotted boy standing at her legs. He seems okay, maybe a little dazed by the magic that had teleported them here, but there is no sign of injury on him that she can find or sense, no reason for her to be ending any worlds on his behalf quite yet.
Her lips touch the crest of his neck, huff soft breath against the smooth smokey black and travel further down the length of his spine to the spattering of purple across his ribs and rump. There is an unfamiliar sense of pleasure that he looks like her, that she can claim him as her blood by those markings. <i>“My Rian.”</i> She reminds him with a nuzzle, shifting to nudge him back towards the heavy bag at her belly. There was no way for her to know how much her magic had taken out of him, if it had tried to take from him as she came up empty. He should nurse, take his fill, and then they can find a spot to curl up together.
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