<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style type="text/css"> .dacian_container { position: relative; z-index: 1; background: url('https://i.postimg.cc/Hx1B3VBk/dacianbg.png'); width: 600px; padding: 0 0 0 0; border: solid 1px #101010; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 1px #000; } .dacian_container p { margin: 0; } .dacian_image { position: relative; z-index: 4; width: 600px; } .dacian_text { position: relative; z-index: 6; width: 560px; margin-top: -300px; background: #707070e6; border: solid 1px #3a3a3a; border-bottom: none; } .dacian_quote { font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: center; color: #101010; padding: 20px; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 1.5em; border-bottom: solid 1px #3a3a3a; width: 80%; } .dacian_message { position: relative; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify; color: #101010; padding: 30px; } .dacian_quotetwo { font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: center; color: #101010; padding: 40px 20px 20px; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 1.5em; border-top: solid 1px #3a3a3a; width: 80%; } .dacian_name { font: 70px 'Playfair Display', serif; text-transform: uppercase; color: #484848; line-height: 0.2em; padding-top: 20px; padding-left: 20px; letter-spacing: 25px; opacity: 0.5; -webkit-text-stroke: 2px #3a3a3a; } </style> <center> <div class="dacian_container"> <img class="dacian_image" src="https://i.postimg.cc/FsTCmFsT/dacian.png"> <div class="dacian_text"> <p class="dacian_quote">you have forsaken all the love you've taken <br>sleeping on a razor there's nowhere left to fall</p> <p class="dacian_message">He stands on the edge of the cliff, staring down at the nothing. It is almost disconcerting to see how far it can stretch – nothing, for infinity. It would be worse than being dead, he thinks, to fall into that. He takes another step back from the ledge, his jaw set in a furious clench when the ground beneath him begins to quiver. He thinks, at first, it is just the buzzing, that it has finally rattled its way clean into the marrow of his bones, but then the earth shifts beneath his feet.
His dead heart plummets to the bottom of his chest, and he looks again over the ledge.
He sees it then, the strange void, the way it makes his eyes waver, like the horizon in a scorching desert. It is stretching wide, at a rapid enough pace that he does not doubt it will swallow him regardless of what he does.
He jumps, and he does not hesitate, because he would rather jump into this spiraling infinity than to fall into it; he wants to pretend he still has some semblance of control over his own fate.
The darkness envelopes him, and the feeling of falling through a sea of black is just as disorienting as he had feared it to be. He knows he is falling only because he can feel that something is rushing up to meet him; that feeling of being hurtled toward something even though he cannot see anything else around him.
It's then that he feels the darkness seep into his skin. Like fangs injecting poison, it storms his veins, but instead of spreading throughout his body, it concentrates on his throat. He can feel the way it prods at the fire that lay in waiting there, trying to coax it forth into its greedy hands. He can taste the burning, and the embers on his tongue as the flames crawl obediently towards the void that beckons it forward. He can feel as the darkness tries to excise his fire-breathing out of him like it is a cancer that could be removed.
And somehow, even during this freefall, in the middle of this crushing silence, Dacian manages to spit viciously into the void: “No.”
He hits the ground with a force that would have killed him had he been alive.
It takes a moment for him to gather himself, and when his bones ring and hum, he thinks it is from the fall. He stands, cautiously taking in this strange, warped world, and the buzzing continues to pulse inside of him. It has buried itself so deep he thinks that should he ever make it out of here that his heart just might buzz instead of beat.
There is something off to his left, a movement, a noise, but the shapes and colors are so distorted he is sure, now, that he must be dreaming.
He is all the more certain that he is dreaming when he opens his mouth to question the noise, to demand it make itself known, and there is no sound that comes out.
He had fought to keep his fire-breathing, useless in this nightmare that it may be, and he had lost his voice instead.</p> <p class="dacian_name">Dacian</p> <p class="dacian_quotetwo">your body's aching, every bone is breaking <br>nothing seems to shake it, it just keeps holding on</p> </div> </div> </center>
ooc: the void took his voice
His dead heart plummets to the bottom of his chest, and he looks again over the ledge.
He sees it then, the strange void, the way it makes his eyes waver, like the horizon in a scorching desert. It is stretching wide, at a rapid enough pace that he does not doubt it will swallow him regardless of what he does.
He jumps, and he does not hesitate, because he would rather jump into this spiraling infinity than to fall into it; he wants to pretend he still has some semblance of control over his own fate.
The darkness envelopes him, and the feeling of falling through a sea of black is just as disorienting as he had feared it to be. He knows he is falling only because he can feel that something is rushing up to meet him; that feeling of being hurtled toward something even though he cannot see anything else around him.
It's then that he feels the darkness seep into his skin. Like fangs injecting poison, it storms his veins, but instead of spreading throughout his body, it concentrates on his throat. He can feel the way it prods at the fire that lay in waiting there, trying to coax it forth into its greedy hands. He can taste the burning, and the embers on his tongue as the flames crawl obediently towards the void that beckons it forward. He can feel as the darkness tries to excise his fire-breathing out of him like it is a cancer that could be removed.
And somehow, even during this freefall, in the middle of this crushing silence, Dacian manages to spit viciously into the void: “No.”
He hits the ground with a force that would have killed him had he been alive.
It takes a moment for him to gather himself, and when his bones ring and hum, he thinks it is from the fall. He stands, cautiously taking in this strange, warped world, and the buzzing continues to pulse inside of him. It has buried itself so deep he thinks that should he ever make it out of here that his heart just might buzz instead of beat.
There is something off to his left, a movement, a noise, but the shapes and colors are so distorted he is sure, now, that he must be dreaming.
He is all the more certain that he is dreaming when he opens his mouth to question the noise, to demand it make itself known, and there is no sound that comes out.
He had fought to keep his fire-breathing, useless in this nightmare that it may be, and he had lost his voice instead.</p> <p class="dacian_name">Dacian</p> <p class="dacian_quotetwo">your body's aching, every bone is breaking <br>nothing seems to shake it, it just keeps holding on</p> </div> </div> </center>
ooc: the void took his voice