10-20-2018, 04:43 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">His breaths are finally beginning to slow as he plops himself heavily against a tree, still scowling into the misty forest. With a sigh, he scratches his ear against the rough bark of the tree trunk before turning to look at Linda, his expression shifting from irritated to baffled. <b>“Oh Linda,”</b> he complains wearily. <b>“Whatever are we going to do?”</b>
Linda, of course, has no response. There seems to be no further instruction from Jack. Not that he particularly trusts him anymore, the sly bastard.
Which, as it turns out, is exactly the right response. Revel, for all his nonsensical ways, really can display some good sense from time to time. Because, as it turns out, Jack isn’t <i>exaaactly</i> the benevolent spirit we all thought him to be.
From one moment to the next, the forest has gone from eerie silence to teaming with life. The <i>wrong</i> kind of life. Revel snaps upright, eyes widening as the pumpkins scattered throughout the forest begin to drag themselves upright on slender limbs, their jagged grins flickering from yellow to blue. Even Linda appears to want in on the action, rising up from her perch atop the trunk as she turns to face him, all while pulling a rather wicked looking knife from her gourd-ish skull. Oh hell. It seems this adventure in nightmares has only just begun.
<i>The games are done, we’ve had our fun. Now it’s time for you to run.</i>
Sound advice, Jack. <i>Very</i> sound advice. And Revel is not one to turn down a good suggestion, especially when his life is on the line. With a startled little <i>meep</i>, Revel’s hooves scrabble against the leaf litter as he stumbles backwards before turning and bolting.
He doesn’t get far, unfortunately.
And poor Revel, well, he’s a lover, not a fighter. The very thought of having to do a bloody dance with these Jack clones is alarming. What does he even do? He’s never trained for this! Where does one even hit a pumpkin to disable them? He doesn’t even know that answer on a horse! Forget about a thing that should be his dinner, not his enemy. And damnit, he’s definitely not hungry enough to eat all these pumpkins. He’d probably burst. And then die a gruesome death.
Of course, the good news is he can’t really die. Not forever. But still, it’s a less than pleasant prospect. No one wants to be murdered, even if they won’t actually stay dead.
Skidding to a halt before a line of pumpkin headed soldiers, Revel prances a bit in place, head so high it’s nearly in the canopy, his eyes round with alarm. He dodges a brave soldier who stumbles forward and slices at his shoulder with the serrated knife in his spindly fingers. As he twitches sideways to avoid getting stabbed, he nearly wallops himself in the head with a low hanging tree-branch. Good lord! See! Not a warrior! Should’ve noticed that damnit.
<b>“Erm, Jack?”</b> he questions, twisting his head this way and that to keep an eye on the encroaching minions, dancing sideways until he is nearly pressed into a tree. <b>“I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Y’know, I could be very helpful if you’d let me. I mean, just look at Linda!”</b> He glances around, quickly spying the bewigged pumpkin as she advances on him. He cringes, pressing himself further into the tree, his bruised muscles protesting. Maybe not the greatest example. <b>“But I mean like, for real! We could find you a real lady! There’s gotta be lots of great ones out there. I’m the best wingman too! ‘Haaaave you met Jack?’”</b>
At this point, he’s really just babbling, but he can’t seem to help himself. <b>“Just think about it! You’d be missing out if you killed me!”</b>
The pumpkins surrounding him keep closing in, and Revel is nearly ready to panic now. A couple of the spindly creatures have even managed to gather themselves a string of lights. All the better to strangle him with, right?
Nope nope nope. Hell to the nope. He’s not dying by strangulation. Lurching forward, he picks one clone that appears a little wobbly. Sorta. Maybe. Hell, he’d take whatever he could work with. The thing raises it’s knife and he smashes into it, teeth snapping wildly as he tries to find the scrawny, knife-wielding arm. When he feels his teeth close around something, he grips as hard as he can, shaking his head almost viciously before dashing forward, that tough vine still clenched in his mouth.
Oh hell, it’s heavy. He drags it for a few more feet before dropping it and sprinting away. A faint slice across his ribs tells him he hadn’t escaped entirely unscathed. But with the adrenaline coursing through his veins as it is, the sharp cut and burning ache of his abused muscles are hardly enough to hold him back.
At least, until he encounters another batch of clones blocking his path. Skidding wildly to a halt, he scrabbles for purchase (nearly falling flat on his rear as he does so) as he makes a sharp turn to the right. He bolts forward, only to be brought up short once again.
Nearly panting now, he skids to a halt until he’s able to stumble into an aboutface. But hell and damnation, he’s surrounded again. <b>“C’mon Jack!”</b> he shouts desperately into the air, his breath harsh now as he skitters into a nervous pivot. <b>“Just think about it! We’d make a fabulous team! And really, you don’t want to kill me anyway. Way too much work, for one. And I’d just keeping coming back, y’know? Then you’d just have to kill me all over again. And nobody wants that. I mean, do you really want to spend all of eternity trying to kill me over and over again? Sounds suuuper stressful. Just sayin’.”</b>
Hell, at this point, he’s willing to say pretty much anything. Bonus points for being true. Although, come to think of it, maybe he should be a little less honest. Channel his inner Dumbledore a little more. But who knows, maybe Jack likes honesty?</p><p id="reveldorename">Revel</p></div></div></center>
Linda, of course, has no response. There seems to be no further instruction from Jack. Not that he particularly trusts him anymore, the sly bastard.
Which, as it turns out, is exactly the right response. Revel, for all his nonsensical ways, really can display some good sense from time to time. Because, as it turns out, Jack isn’t <i>exaaactly</i> the benevolent spirit we all thought him to be.
From one moment to the next, the forest has gone from eerie silence to teaming with life. The <i>wrong</i> kind of life. Revel snaps upright, eyes widening as the pumpkins scattered throughout the forest begin to drag themselves upright on slender limbs, their jagged grins flickering from yellow to blue. Even Linda appears to want in on the action, rising up from her perch atop the trunk as she turns to face him, all while pulling a rather wicked looking knife from her gourd-ish skull. Oh hell. It seems this adventure in nightmares has only just begun.
<i>The games are done, we’ve had our fun. Now it’s time for you to run.</i>
Sound advice, Jack. <i>Very</i> sound advice. And Revel is not one to turn down a good suggestion, especially when his life is on the line. With a startled little <i>meep</i>, Revel’s hooves scrabble against the leaf litter as he stumbles backwards before turning and bolting.
He doesn’t get far, unfortunately.
And poor Revel, well, he’s a lover, not a fighter. The very thought of having to do a bloody dance with these Jack clones is alarming. What does he even do? He’s never trained for this! Where does one even hit a pumpkin to disable them? He doesn’t even know that answer on a horse! Forget about a thing that should be his dinner, not his enemy. And damnit, he’s definitely not hungry enough to eat all these pumpkins. He’d probably burst. And then die a gruesome death.
Of course, the good news is he can’t really die. Not forever. But still, it’s a less than pleasant prospect. No one wants to be murdered, even if they won’t actually stay dead.
Skidding to a halt before a line of pumpkin headed soldiers, Revel prances a bit in place, head so high it’s nearly in the canopy, his eyes round with alarm. He dodges a brave soldier who stumbles forward and slices at his shoulder with the serrated knife in his spindly fingers. As he twitches sideways to avoid getting stabbed, he nearly wallops himself in the head with a low hanging tree-branch. Good lord! See! Not a warrior! Should’ve noticed that damnit.
<b>“Erm, Jack?”</b> he questions, twisting his head this way and that to keep an eye on the encroaching minions, dancing sideways until he is nearly pressed into a tree. <b>“I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Y’know, I could be very helpful if you’d let me. I mean, just look at Linda!”</b> He glances around, quickly spying the bewigged pumpkin as she advances on him. He cringes, pressing himself further into the tree, his bruised muscles protesting. Maybe not the greatest example. <b>“But I mean like, for real! We could find you a real lady! There’s gotta be lots of great ones out there. I’m the best wingman too! ‘Haaaave you met Jack?’”</b>
At this point, he’s really just babbling, but he can’t seem to help himself. <b>“Just think about it! You’d be missing out if you killed me!”</b>
The pumpkins surrounding him keep closing in, and Revel is nearly ready to panic now. A couple of the spindly creatures have even managed to gather themselves a string of lights. All the better to strangle him with, right?
Nope nope nope. Hell to the nope. He’s not dying by strangulation. Lurching forward, he picks one clone that appears a little wobbly. Sorta. Maybe. Hell, he’d take whatever he could work with. The thing raises it’s knife and he smashes into it, teeth snapping wildly as he tries to find the scrawny, knife-wielding arm. When he feels his teeth close around something, he grips as hard as he can, shaking his head almost viciously before dashing forward, that tough vine still clenched in his mouth.
Oh hell, it’s heavy. He drags it for a few more feet before dropping it and sprinting away. A faint slice across his ribs tells him he hadn’t escaped entirely unscathed. But with the adrenaline coursing through his veins as it is, the sharp cut and burning ache of his abused muscles are hardly enough to hold him back.
At least, until he encounters another batch of clones blocking his path. Skidding wildly to a halt, he scrabbles for purchase (nearly falling flat on his rear as he does so) as he makes a sharp turn to the right. He bolts forward, only to be brought up short once again.
Nearly panting now, he skids to a halt until he’s able to stumble into an aboutface. But hell and damnation, he’s surrounded again. <b>“C’mon Jack!”</b> he shouts desperately into the air, his breath harsh now as he skitters into a nervous pivot. <b>“Just think about it! We’d make a fabulous team! And really, you don’t want to kill me anyway. Way too much work, for one. And I’d just keeping coming back, y’know? Then you’d just have to kill me all over again. And nobody wants that. I mean, do you really want to spend all of eternity trying to kill me over and over again? Sounds suuuper stressful. Just sayin’.”</b>
Hell, at this point, he’s willing to say pretty much anything. Bonus points for being true. Although, come to think of it, maybe he should be a little less honest. Channel his inner Dumbledore a little more. But who knows, maybe Jack likes honesty?</p><p id="reveldorename">Revel</p></div></div></center>