<style type="text/css">.eight_border {position: relative;z-index: 1;width: 500px;padding-left: 25px;background: #5E5E5E;border-radius: 110px 150px 30px 30px;}.eight_container {position: relative;z-index: 2;width: 500px;background: #FFF;border-radius: 110px 150px 30px 30px;}.eight_container p {margin: 0;}.eight_image {position: relative;z-index: 5;width: 500px;margin-bottom: -50px;border-radius: 110px 150px 0px 0px}.eight_gradient {position: absolute;z-index: 7;top: 580px;width: 500px;height: 100px;background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%, rgba(255,255,255,1) 100%);background: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%,rgba(0,0,0,0)), color-stop(100%,rgba(255,255,255,1)));background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%,rgba(255,255,255,1) 100%);background: -o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%,rgba(255,255,255,1) 100%);background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%,rgba(255,255,255,1) 100%);background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%,rgba(255,255,255,1) 100%);filter: progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#00000000', endColorstr='#ffffff',GradientType=0 );}.eight_message {position: relative;z-index: 10;text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif;padding: 15px;color: #242424;border-right: 25px solid #5E5E5E;border-bottom-right-radius: 30px;}.eight_quote {position: relative;z-index: 10;text-align: center;font: 16px 'Times New Roman', serif;font-style: italic;color: #242424;}.eight_name {position: relative;z-index: 10;text-align: center;font: 42px 'Times New Roman', serif;color: #242424; padding: 0;margin: 0;}</style><center><div class="eight_border"><div class="eight_container"><img class="eight_image" src="http://i.imgur.com/Waz1O.jpg"><div class="eight_gradient"></div><p class="eight_quote">no matter what they say, I am still the king</p><div class="eight_message">
(Aye lady – I posted Eight in the Meadow already, so he kinda realizes things are different already.)
The change was surreal – the quiet somehow very disquieting. He had gone to the Meadow, passed through lands that were scratched in fury by the Fairy, the lands covered in a thick swirl of smog that held some sort of barrier that he could not get through. He had nary seen a soul in sight – it seemed all of Beqanna must still be on the Mountain. And while he loathed to climb that thing once more, he knew that the Mountain would be where Topsail would be.
He had realized, upon stepping off of the mountain and into the tarnished lands of Beqanna – that everything had disappeared. No, not just the land – but everything about <i>him</i>. He felt a sharp pain as his horn retracted deep into his body, as his wings molted feather and bone, and as his veins drained of the magic inside him. No, it was not just the lands that had changed – but the people in them.
But the Mountain – he knew that the Mountain must still carry magic. And magic was the only way that Topsail would be able to speak.
As soon as his feet touched the cragged edge of the mountain, his head spliced open and his horn reappeared, his wings grew like tree limbs from his shoulders, and his veins again sing with the power reappearing inside of them.
<i>Topsail..</i> he reaches out to her, little fingers flowing throughout the ever crowded mountain – searching for her mind, for where she may have landed amid all this mess.
<p class="eight_name">∞</p><p class="eight_quote">and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in</p></div></div></center>
@[Topsail]
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#00000000', endColorstr='#ffffff',GradientType=0 );}.eight_message {position: relative;z-index: 10;text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif;padding: 15px;color: #242424;border-right: 25px solid #5E5E5E;border-bottom-right-radius: 30px;}.eight_quote {position: relative;z-index: 10;text-align: center;font: 16px 'Times New Roman', serif;font-style: italic;color: #242424;}.eight_name {position: relative;z-index: 10;text-align: center;font: 42px 'Times New Roman', serif;color: #242424; padding: 0;margin: 0;}</style><center><div class="eight_border"><div class="eight_container"><img class="eight_image" src="http://i.imgur.com/Waz1O.jpg"><div class="eight_gradient"></div><p class="eight_quote">no matter what they say, I am still the king</p><div class="eight_message">(Aye lady – I posted Eight in the Meadow already, so he kinda realizes things are different already.)
The change was surreal – the quiet somehow very disquieting. He had gone to the Meadow, passed through lands that were scratched in fury by the Fairy, the lands covered in a thick swirl of smog that held some sort of barrier that he could not get through. He had nary seen a soul in sight – it seemed all of Beqanna must still be on the Mountain. And while he loathed to climb that thing once more, he knew that the Mountain would be where Topsail would be.
He had realized, upon stepping off of the mountain and into the tarnished lands of Beqanna – that everything had disappeared. No, not just the land – but everything about <i>him</i>. He felt a sharp pain as his horn retracted deep into his body, as his wings molted feather and bone, and as his veins drained of the magic inside him. No, it was not just the lands that had changed – but the people in them.
But the Mountain – he knew that the Mountain must still carry magic. And magic was the only way that Topsail would be able to speak.
As soon as his feet touched the cragged edge of the mountain, his head spliced open and his horn reappeared, his wings grew like tree limbs from his shoulders, and his veins again sing with the power reappearing inside of them.
<i>Topsail..</i> he reaches out to her, little fingers flowing throughout the ever crowded mountain – searching for her mind, for where she may have landed amid all this mess.
<p class="eight_name">∞</p><p class="eight_quote">and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in</p></div></div></center>
@[Topsail]