11-04-2018, 04:51 PM
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Source+Sans+Pro|Satisfy' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style type="text/css"> .briella_container { position: relative; z-index: 1; width: 600px; border: solid 2px #1e2225; background-image: url('https://i.postimg.cc/tTJ7YkVr/Briella-bg.png'); border-radius: 300px 300px 0 0; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 1px #000; } .briella_name { position: absolute; z-index: 8; margin-top: 308px; margin-left: 28px; font: 70px 'Satisfy', cursive; color: #415059; text-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #000; } .briella_image { position: relative; z-index: 1; border-radius: 300px 300px 0 0; width: 600px; } .briella_text { position: relative; z-index: 3; width: 560px; background-color: #1e2225; border: solid 1px #5e6569; border-bottom: none; } .briella_container p { margin: 0; } .briella_message { text-align: justify; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; padding: 20px 30px; line-height: 1.3em; color: #a2a6a9; } .briella_quote { position: relative; z-index: 8; text-align: center; width: 560px; margin-top: -10px; background-color: #151f29; border-top: solid 5px #5e6569; border-left: solid 1px #5e6569; border-right: solid 1px #5e6569; border-radius: 25% 25% 0 0; font: 11px 'Source Sans Pro', sans-serif; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 3px; color: #5e6569; padding: 20px 0; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #000; } </style> <center> <div class="briella_container"> <div class="briella_name">Briella</div> <img class="briella_image" src="https://i.postimg.cc/q703M2LY/Briella.png"> <div class="briella_quote">your eyes are lined in pain, black tears don't hide in rain</div> <div class="briella_text"> <p class="briella_message"> How she escaped them is not important, how her small body managed to slip beneath clamoring legs and chaos: the confusion and anger of the isle’ but she has, and on spindly, wealing legs, she walks east and south: walks and swims.
Guided by purpose, by reason, and by memory- Briella finds her way to the rocky cliffs and jagged paths of the mountain. She stares at the hanging vines and flowers blossoming through cracks… she notes the icy caps on dark stone and pads of white snow that hide away drops and other dangers.
“Not scared.” she reaffirms to herself, coughing and sputtering as blood drips from the nostrils. Still, she is exhausted, and her legs do burn: the muscle sore and stiff, and all her body aching as she tries her damnedest to push through it.
Filled with memories of the darkness and the shadows, burdened by the past and present- she traverses the walkways and ridges until she hears crackling ice and a strange hum in the land. Pressed against stone and shaking, a tumbling cascade of snow and ice, rocks too, passed by and although it is not a full avalanche: she still panics and squeals
Curling into a small ball she avoids the majority, waits and lays, shaking and shivering until she find courage in her small spirit: and an anger that boils well beneath the surface. Restored to her feet she walks and steps into the thick patches of wintery snow and continues until the paths become dark and twisting… until her small mind hears the familiar whispers of the void beyond this place.
Beckoning and strange she thinks she sees a shadow curling itself in a ‘come hither’ gesture, but, as she stares at the inky crevice her eyes close and Briella finds herself growling as she rushes passed it. Bounce, and leap- wobbling until she climbs the reaches and stands at a place where the whole of the ridgeline becomes wide and flat.
“Hello!” she calls out loudly, hearing the echo and how it fades. “Hello!” she tries again, noting the resounding and cacophonous sounds as they bounce between rock and air: as her voice becomes a fading thing on the whistling wind.
With strained breathing she huffs, Briella’s eyes looking about the rising twilight and all the sight of the shadows swarming around her… light provided only by the brilliant stars and silver moon that pours itself upon the world.
“I want to help them,” she states clearly. “They need help-” she isn’t immediately finished but her words are imperfect anyway: unclear and childlike. “A baaaad sickness, and lots of fighting. So many people- I want to help, please?” she asks.
How she can help, she does know, but she imagines in her mind that in a way she wants to ease their pain: to solve this, perhaps to even make them see- it’s hard to say, a child’s mind is after all a vast and wholly strange thing. So she looks around, waiting to see who or what would come, hoping in some way that she will be able to help: or at least be given a way to start. </p> </div> </div> </center>
@[Beqanna Fairies] or you know @[Carnage] if he wants to do something to make this hilarious; but yeah, she wanna petition for a quest or roll or w/e to help.
Guided by purpose, by reason, and by memory- Briella finds her way to the rocky cliffs and jagged paths of the mountain. She stares at the hanging vines and flowers blossoming through cracks… she notes the icy caps on dark stone and pads of white snow that hide away drops and other dangers.
“Not scared.” she reaffirms to herself, coughing and sputtering as blood drips from the nostrils. Still, she is exhausted, and her legs do burn: the muscle sore and stiff, and all her body aching as she tries her damnedest to push through it.
Filled with memories of the darkness and the shadows, burdened by the past and present- she traverses the walkways and ridges until she hears crackling ice and a strange hum in the land. Pressed against stone and shaking, a tumbling cascade of snow and ice, rocks too, passed by and although it is not a full avalanche: she still panics and squeals
Curling into a small ball she avoids the majority, waits and lays, shaking and shivering until she find courage in her small spirit: and an anger that boils well beneath the surface. Restored to her feet she walks and steps into the thick patches of wintery snow and continues until the paths become dark and twisting… until her small mind hears the familiar whispers of the void beyond this place.
Beckoning and strange she thinks she sees a shadow curling itself in a ‘come hither’ gesture, but, as she stares at the inky crevice her eyes close and Briella finds herself growling as she rushes passed it. Bounce, and leap- wobbling until she climbs the reaches and stands at a place where the whole of the ridgeline becomes wide and flat.
“Hello!” she calls out loudly, hearing the echo and how it fades. “Hello!” she tries again, noting the resounding and cacophonous sounds as they bounce between rock and air: as her voice becomes a fading thing on the whistling wind.
With strained breathing she huffs, Briella’s eyes looking about the rising twilight and all the sight of the shadows swarming around her… light provided only by the brilliant stars and silver moon that pours itself upon the world.
“I want to help them,” she states clearly. “They need help-” she isn’t immediately finished but her words are imperfect anyway: unclear and childlike. “A baaaad sickness, and lots of fighting. So many people- I want to help, please?” she asks.
How she can help, she does know, but she imagines in her mind that in a way she wants to ease their pain: to solve this, perhaps to even make them see- it’s hard to say, a child’s mind is after all a vast and wholly strange thing. So she looks around, waiting to see who or what would come, hoping in some way that she will be able to help: or at least be given a way to start. </p> </div> </div> </center>
@[Beqanna Fairies] or you know @[Carnage] if he wants to do something to make this hilarious; but yeah, she wanna petition for a quest or roll or w/e to help.