10-12-2018, 04:27 PM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Charmonman|K2D" rel="stylesheet"><style> #reveldore{ width:600px; border:1px solid #000000; box-shadow:0px 0px 10px #000000;} #reveldoreimg{ position:relative; z-index:0;} #reveldorecont{ width:600px; position:relative; z-index:1; margin-top:-130px; background:-webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(183,188,181,0), rgba(183,188,181,1)120px); background:-o-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(183,188,181,0), rgba(183,188,181,1)120px); background:-moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(183,188,181,0), rgba(183,188,181,1)120px); background:-linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(183,188,181,0), rgba(183,188,181,1)120px); background:-ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(183,188,181,0), rgba(183,188,181,1)120px); padding-bottom:1px; padding-top:80px;} #reveldoretext{ width:500px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:25px; border-left:1px solid #000000; border-right:1px solid #000000; color:#3F4239; font-size:12px; font-family: 'K2D', sans-serif;} #reveldorename{ color:#F7F0E5; font-size:50px; font-family: 'Charmonman', cursive; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px;} #reveldorequote{ color:#F7F0E5; font-size:20px; font-family: 'Charmonman', cursive; line-height:18px;}</style><center><div id="reveldore"><div id="reveldoreimg"><img src="https://i.postimg.cc/jdchF52B/Revel.jpg"/></div><div id="reveldorecont"><p id="reveldorequote">"One can never have enough socks" - Dumbledore<br>"Unless one is a horse." - Revel</p><p id="reveldoretext" align="justify">Every time he peeps out from behind his tree, he expects to see pumpkin-headed Jack admiring his fine creation. But alas, it is not to be. For instead of the wiley spirit, a creature of cloak and dagger is stumbling towards poor Linda. A frown creasing his wizardly brow, Revel peers from behind his tree, trying to determine what the fraught little guy is doing.
It soon becomes clear however, that his intentions are anything but good. With a mighty bellow, Revel leaps from his cover behind the trees to head off the cloaked reaper before he can tear gleefully into his masterful pumpkin lady. Erm, well, perhaps masterful is too strong a word, but damnit he’d worked hard on that! And like hell would he let some rotten creature steal her away from him just like that.
The irony of the fact that it is a monster dressed as death that threatens his Linda is entirely lost on him. Mostly this author just wanted to remind the reader of how stupendously clever she is.
Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, poor Revel is doing his best to defend Linda against a horde of monsters. Or rather, one monster. At the moment.
With a grunt, Revel skids to a halt and does his best impression of a world class reining horse by spinning about on his heel. Shouting what is mostly nonsense, he heaves his hind legs out, their weight slamming into the skeletal creature. The thing lets out a startled (and surprisingly high pitched) ‘Eeeeeeeee!’ as it sails almost gracefully through the air before crashing into a distant tree. Revel jerks head up to watch with a satisfied smirk as the reaper slides down the trunk and lands in a crumpled heap at it’s base.
With a snort, Revel turns, hunkering down in front of his lady pumpkin to protect her against whatever other baddies wanted their turn with her (get your head outta the gutter, you know that’s not what I meant).
It was a sound plan, one sure to work with steadfast Revel at its helm. Except that, what should troop through the trees next but a group of gnarly goblins? Now, that may not sound so bad, but these goblins have the misfortune to look like rats. Massive, hairless rats. And, unfortunately for Revel, he absolutely positively <i>hates rats</i>.
Jerking upright, his mouth drops open as he stares in wide-eyed horror at the cackling little creatures that are loping towards him through the eerie mist curling about the trees. Oh no. Nonononono. Hell to the <i>fucking</i> no. They could damned well have Linda. He ain’t that proud.
With a yelp, Revel leaps backwards in a bound that nearly sends poor Linda sprawling. Scrabbling against the damp leaves coating the ground, he bolts. But the gross little rat goblins don’t even stop to glance at Linda. They’ve already got their beady little rat eyes on him as they scamper after him with gleeful cackles.
And damnit they’re fast! Ratty little devils that climb into the trees and use the bare branches as a highway to chase him down. <b>“Shitshitshitshitshit.”</b> The refrain echoes in a distinctly unDumbledore-like way, staccato bursts that color each short breath he takes.
The first one that lands on his back nearly sends him through the canopy with a wild shriek. All of sudden he goes from fleeing for his ever-loving life to bucking bronco. That doesn’t seem to stop them however. Instead they dig their little rat claws into him, driving him nearly mindless with fear and disgust. The first one falls casualty to a wild careening that takes him into a tree he’s fairly sure popped up out of nowhere. The impact vibrates through him, shaking another loose, though it doesn’t waste time coming back for more. If anyone were to look at him now, they’d see nothing but an undulating mass of gargoyle horse. And probably either vomit, take off for the hills, or call hell and tell them to come take their weird looking demon back.
However, even in his wild state a panic, the loss of one clinging goblin stirs in him a desperate recognition of how to do away with the clingy bastards. Abruptly, his bucking turns into a disjointed lurch as he crashes from tree to tree.
He would be one hella bruise in the morning, but it would so be worth it to off these little cocksuckers. Finally, the giant, flashing red PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! begins to dissipate as the goblins start to drop like flies. After a few more crashing encounters with various trees, he finds he has managed to rid himself of all but one of the clingy rats. With a few more wild tosses of his head to loosen up the thing still clutching his neck, he slams into another tree, grunting as he hears a satisfying crunch of bones (or whatever the hell they’re filled with. Rotten apples and mushy carrots probably. Gross).
Finally, panting, he slows to a trot only to find he had brought himself full circle back to Linda. Who, miraculously, appears relatively intact. A little skewed and mussed perhaps, but still mostly recognizable as a... well, a makeshift lady pumpkin. Ribs heaving, Revel scowls at the thing as he shudders his skin, trying to rid himself of the feel of claws. Linda might have made it, but Revel looks rather worse for the wear. He’d lost his hat somewhere along the line, his fabulous not-fake beard is starting look a bit scraggly, and his lovely swirled coat is marked by scrapes and scratches, his muscles aching as bruises begin to form.
Damnit. He’s pretty sure this is all her fault. Or Jack’s. Whatever. He’d decide later.</p><p id="reveldorename">Revel</p></div></div></center>
It soon becomes clear however, that his intentions are anything but good. With a mighty bellow, Revel leaps from his cover behind the trees to head off the cloaked reaper before he can tear gleefully into his masterful pumpkin lady. Erm, well, perhaps masterful is too strong a word, but damnit he’d worked hard on that! And like hell would he let some rotten creature steal her away from him just like that.
The irony of the fact that it is a monster dressed as death that threatens his Linda is entirely lost on him. Mostly this author just wanted to remind the reader of how stupendously clever she is.
Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, poor Revel is doing his best to defend Linda against a horde of monsters. Or rather, one monster. At the moment.
With a grunt, Revel skids to a halt and does his best impression of a world class reining horse by spinning about on his heel. Shouting what is mostly nonsense, he heaves his hind legs out, their weight slamming into the skeletal creature. The thing lets out a startled (and surprisingly high pitched) ‘Eeeeeeeee!’ as it sails almost gracefully through the air before crashing into a distant tree. Revel jerks head up to watch with a satisfied smirk as the reaper slides down the trunk and lands in a crumpled heap at it’s base.
With a snort, Revel turns, hunkering down in front of his lady pumpkin to protect her against whatever other baddies wanted their turn with her (get your head outta the gutter, you know that’s not what I meant).
It was a sound plan, one sure to work with steadfast Revel at its helm. Except that, what should troop through the trees next but a group of gnarly goblins? Now, that may not sound so bad, but these goblins have the misfortune to look like rats. Massive, hairless rats. And, unfortunately for Revel, he absolutely positively <i>hates rats</i>.
Jerking upright, his mouth drops open as he stares in wide-eyed horror at the cackling little creatures that are loping towards him through the eerie mist curling about the trees. Oh no. Nonononono. Hell to the <i>fucking</i> no. They could damned well have Linda. He ain’t that proud.
With a yelp, Revel leaps backwards in a bound that nearly sends poor Linda sprawling. Scrabbling against the damp leaves coating the ground, he bolts. But the gross little rat goblins don’t even stop to glance at Linda. They’ve already got their beady little rat eyes on him as they scamper after him with gleeful cackles.
And damnit they’re fast! Ratty little devils that climb into the trees and use the bare branches as a highway to chase him down. <b>“Shitshitshitshitshit.”</b> The refrain echoes in a distinctly unDumbledore-like way, staccato bursts that color each short breath he takes.
The first one that lands on his back nearly sends him through the canopy with a wild shriek. All of sudden he goes from fleeing for his ever-loving life to bucking bronco. That doesn’t seem to stop them however. Instead they dig their little rat claws into him, driving him nearly mindless with fear and disgust. The first one falls casualty to a wild careening that takes him into a tree he’s fairly sure popped up out of nowhere. The impact vibrates through him, shaking another loose, though it doesn’t waste time coming back for more. If anyone were to look at him now, they’d see nothing but an undulating mass of gargoyle horse. And probably either vomit, take off for the hills, or call hell and tell them to come take their weird looking demon back.
However, even in his wild state a panic, the loss of one clinging goblin stirs in him a desperate recognition of how to do away with the clingy bastards. Abruptly, his bucking turns into a disjointed lurch as he crashes from tree to tree.
He would be one hella bruise in the morning, but it would so be worth it to off these little cocksuckers. Finally, the giant, flashing red PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! begins to dissipate as the goblins start to drop like flies. After a few more crashing encounters with various trees, he finds he has managed to rid himself of all but one of the clingy rats. With a few more wild tosses of his head to loosen up the thing still clutching his neck, he slams into another tree, grunting as he hears a satisfying crunch of bones (or whatever the hell they’re filled with. Rotten apples and mushy carrots probably. Gross).
Finally, panting, he slows to a trot only to find he had brought himself full circle back to Linda. Who, miraculously, appears relatively intact. A little skewed and mussed perhaps, but still mostly recognizable as a... well, a makeshift lady pumpkin. Ribs heaving, Revel scowls at the thing as he shudders his skin, trying to rid himself of the feel of claws. Linda might have made it, but Revel looks rather worse for the wear. He’d lost his hat somewhere along the line, his fabulous not-fake beard is starting look a bit scraggly, and his lovely swirled coat is marked by scrapes and scratches, his muscles aching as bruises begin to form.
Damnit. He’s pretty sure this is all her fault. Or Jack’s. Whatever. He’d decide later.</p><p id="reveldorename">Revel</p></div></div></center>