07-26-2019, 09:55 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-29-2019, 03:59 PM by Wysteria Fairy.)
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display|Source+Sans+Pro' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style type="text/css"> .brigade_container { position: relative; z-index: 1; background: #28271a; width: 600px; padding: 0 0 0 0; min-height: 500px; border: solid 1px #000; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 1px #000; } .brigade_container p { margin: 0; } .brigade_image { position: relative; z-index: 4; width: 600px; } .brigade_text { position: relative; z-index: 6; width: 560px; margin-top: -100px; margin-bottom: 20px; background: #00000070; border: solid 2px #252521; box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px 1px #000; } .brigade_message { position: relative; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify; color: #797971; padding: 24px; line-height: 1.45em; } .brigade_name { font: 50px 'Playfair Display', serif; color: #252521; line-height: 0.8; padding-left: 20px; letter-spacing: 20px; } .brigade_quote { font: 10px 'Source Sans Pro', sans-serif; text-transform: uppercase; color: #797971; line-height: 1.5; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 10px 0 20px 0; } </style> <center> <div class="brigade_container"> <img class="brigade_image" src="https://i.postimg.cc/httFVHP6/brigadetwo.png"> <div class="brigade_text"> <p class="brigade_message"> He doesn’t know what drags him to the mountain on this day.
Perhaps it is the way that he hears the wolves howling against the backdrop of the Sylvan night and he wonders where the wolves who accompanied him all of his life are now. Perhaps it is the way that he barely sleeps—racked with thoughts of Brinly and Kensa and the women he has destroyed so easily.
Perhaps it is simply the way that the wild continually pulls at his belly.
The way that his gaze sharpens like the edges of his antlers—the years doing nothing to soften him.
Whatever it is, it drags him from his home when the sun has barely set. His wings unfurl and he takes to the evening sky, dropping to the ground only when he gets to the base of the mountain. He tips his head back and glances up, frowning in surprise as if not expecting to be here, not expecting to see it.
But it makes sense and he continues to follow the tug in his belly.
Follows it until he reaches the open ledge and the sun hangs dark around him.
He peers into the darkness for a second, scowling lightly. “I don’t even know if there’s anyone who can hear me,” he starts and his voice nearly gives away the pain, the anger, that he has buried for so longer. But he clears his throat and hides it for now. “Or why I’m even here.”
It was stupid. He was so stupid for coming.
“I guess I miss my family. I miss feeling like I carried a piece of them with me.”
He laughs and the sound is bitter.
“I don’t think you can fix how much I’ve broken though.” </p> <p class="brigade_name">BRIGADE</p> <p class="brigade_quote">when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache <br>but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake</p> </div> </div> </center>
@[Officials]
he doesn't really know what he's questing for but i was thinking wolf shifting like his family or something else wilderness-related if you want to be creative. idk. he's weird and i'm sorry.
Perhaps it is the way that he hears the wolves howling against the backdrop of the Sylvan night and he wonders where the wolves who accompanied him all of his life are now. Perhaps it is the way that he barely sleeps—racked with thoughts of Brinly and Kensa and the women he has destroyed so easily.
Perhaps it is simply the way that the wild continually pulls at his belly.
The way that his gaze sharpens like the edges of his antlers—the years doing nothing to soften him.
Whatever it is, it drags him from his home when the sun has barely set. His wings unfurl and he takes to the evening sky, dropping to the ground only when he gets to the base of the mountain. He tips his head back and glances up, frowning in surprise as if not expecting to be here, not expecting to see it.
But it makes sense and he continues to follow the tug in his belly.
Follows it until he reaches the open ledge and the sun hangs dark around him.
He peers into the darkness for a second, scowling lightly. “I don’t even know if there’s anyone who can hear me,” he starts and his voice nearly gives away the pain, the anger, that he has buried for so longer. But he clears his throat and hides it for now. “Or why I’m even here.”
It was stupid. He was so stupid for coming.
“I guess I miss my family. I miss feeling like I carried a piece of them with me.”
He laughs and the sound is bitter.
“I don’t think you can fix how much I’ve broken though.” </p> <p class="brigade_name">BRIGADE</p> <p class="brigade_quote">when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache <br>but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake</p> </div> </div> </center>
@[Officials]
he doesn't really know what he's questing for but i was thinking wolf shifting like his family or something else wilderness-related if you want to be creative. idk. he's weird and i'm sorry.