02-14-2018, 07:52 PM
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Lato|Coda|Roboto+Condensed' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><style type="text/css">.scorch_container {position: relative;z-index: 1;width: 650px;background: #000;}.scorch_container p {margin: 0;}.scorch_image {width: 650px;}.scorch_gradient {position: absolute;z-index: 2;top: 300px;width: 650px;height: 40px;background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%, rgba(0,0,0,1) 100%);background: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%,rgba(0,0,0,0)), color-stop(100%,rgba(0,0,0,1)));background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%,rgba(0,0,0,1) 100%);background: -o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%,rgba(0,0,0,1) 100%);background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%,rgba(0,0,0,1) 100%);background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(0,0,0,0) 0%,rgba(0,0,0,1) 100%);filter: progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#00000000', endColorstr='#000000',GradientType=0 );}.scorch_message {text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif;padding: 20px 40px;color: #924A06;}.scorch_name {position: relative;z-index: 10;color:#000;font-size:50px;font: 50px 'Coda', serif;text-shadow:0px 0px 8px #B6B6BB;letter-spacing:4px;margin: 0;padding: 0;}.scorch_title {position: relative;z-index: 15;top: -15px;color:#959896;font: 11px 'Roboto Condensed', serif;letter-spacing:1px;}.scorch_quote {color:#959896;text-align:center;font: 20px 'Roboto Condensed', serif;padding-top: 20px;}#scorch_speak {color: #959896;}</style><center><div class="scorch_container"><img class="scorch_image" src="http://i.imgur.com/hpKHoPn.jpg"><div class="scorch_gradient"></div><p class="scorch_quote">WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT</p><p class="scorch_message">She is in their thicket when it happens.
<I>Theirs,</i> though it can't possibly be so; the lands were upturned, destroyed, remade. The small clearing in the dense Jungle underbrush where Scorch raised each of her children is no longer - and yet, as she stands, eyes closed and breath even, an unmistakable scent washes over her. She smiles; an ugly sight, but he would not think so.
<font color=#959896>"Hey, baby,"</font> she says to the scent, though to her knowledge, only the wind can hear her useless musings. <font color=#959896>"I wish you were really here."</font>
<b>"He is."</b>
Her massive frame jolts at the hard-spoken words, masculine and powerful. A tangible spear of light is aimed at the creature's exposed jugular, shadows curling around his ankles to chain him to the spot; but the man waves his hand impatiently and brushes her magic aside as if it is powerless.
And indeed, in his wake, it is.
Scorch's molten eyes take in the sight of the creature with more than a slight skepticism: he is the same breed as the Trickster Loki from her youth, the one who commanded her to fight the dragon, and who left her screaming and burning, but also magically sighted. But when she steps forward, ears flattened to her hairless skull, she can see that the deity is not Loki. Still, she bares her teeth.
<font color=#959896>"Leave me be,"</font> she snarls. Ever the impulsive brat; for a moment, she swears that someone behind her chuckles. <font color=#959896>"I don't have any hair left for you to steal from me."</font>
The man is smiling now, shaking his head. <b>"Scorch, look behind you before I lose my patience."</b> When the mare only squints her eyes at him, he gestures largely with his arms, waving her away. <b>"Go on! You've been working hard for your keep here in reality. Consider this a reward."</b>
At those strange and somehow intrusive words, Scorch sends the ugly two-legged a final glare before slowly wheeling around.
<font color=#959896>"Hestoni!"</font> His name is the first thing on her mind in the morning, and the last word on her lips at night as she prays. His image is beside her at every moment, his every thought present in her mind: but until now, he has remained physically separate. Until now, she has lived every day of her second life without knowing his touch. His embrace. His love.
She rams into him with nary a thought, much as she had in life, as well as in death: they had spent many years together on the beach, but life had had different plans for the fiery woman. His warm chestnut-red fur mingles with her scars, his lips are pressing at every square inch of skin they can reach, his breath hot, heavy, beautiful upon her. And in return, she too kisses, devotes, worships him: the warrior queen rendered a silly, love-sick girl at his presence.
<font color=#959896>"Oh Toni, baby, husband, I love you so much."</font> There are tears in her eyes - gods, will she ever learn not to wear her emotions on her sleeves? - and a euphoric grin on her mutilated lips. He is nodding frantically at her words, clearly unable to speak, but the motion is enough: he is enough: enough.
The mare pulls away, kissing as she goes, until they are nose to nose: still touching, but far enough that she can gauge his reactions to her next words. <font color=#959896>"I adopted another daughter, Philomena."</font> Hestoni nods, smiles, joy overriding his titanic features. <font color=#959896>"You would love her, you were always a sucker for the girls."</font> Her tone is playful, but at the last her face screws up, an attempt not to cry: a failure. But he understands; and he smiles; and he is crying too.
<font color=#959896>"I'm sorry I left you behind."</font> He is shaking his head now, reaching for her though his hooves cannot move, pulling her quaking form to his chest as he always had when she got like this. Just a girl, marred by fire, by insecurities, by the need for reassurance, touch, and love. Just a girl who loved him madly, and who loves him madly, and who fully intends to rejoin him again someday; and forevermore afterwards.
<font color=#959896>"I know, I know, you understand. And I love you for it."</font> She pulls him tighter, attempts to memorize his figure's every feature, though she had never forgotten in the first place. <font color=#959896>"But just remember that I'm your girl, always your girl and no one else's. And no matter what, I will find my way back to you - or, if that fails, I will find a way to bring you back to me."</font> Her laughter is a gurgle of sobs, but he laughs too. A hearty sound. Full, deep, as broad as his powerful ribs.
Silence overtakes them, then. The minutes stretch on as the lovers fall asleep in their well-worn embrace, the grooves of each other rejoicing at having found that which marked them so deeply, so profoundly. An immovable sense of peace serenades them to sleep, to a restfulness so complete that neither will wake up sad.
He is her rock.
She is his fire.
Together, they are in love: and that. That is enough.
Her eyes flutter open as a hand brushes her shoulders. The man, smiling more kindly than she remembers, eyes puffy with tears, stands. Wordless, but with too much meaning.
<font color=#959896>"Thank you,"</font> the mare murmurs. <font color=#959896>"Thank you."</font>
Closing her eyes, she nestles into Hestoni one last time.
<font color=#959896>"Ti amo mio titano."</font>
When she wakes up hours later, Scorch is alone, but not in the same way as before. Deep inside of her chest, something has been restored: a piece of her heart refurbished and renewed. The final part of her soul returned from the world of the dead.
<font color=#959896>"Hey, baby,"</font> she says to the wind.
The leaves rustle in the trees above their thicket.
<p><p class="scorch_name">Scorch</p><p class="scorch_title">Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle</p></div></center>
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#00000000', endColorstr='#000000',GradientType=0 );}.scorch_message {text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif;padding: 20px 40px;color: #924A06;}.scorch_name {position: relative;z-index: 10;color:#000;font-size:50px;font: 50px 'Coda', serif;text-shadow:0px 0px 8px #B6B6BB;letter-spacing:4px;margin: 0;padding: 0;}.scorch_title {position: relative;z-index: 15;top: -15px;color:#959896;font: 11px 'Roboto Condensed', serif;letter-spacing:1px;}.scorch_quote {color:#959896;text-align:center;font: 20px 'Roboto Condensed', serif;padding-top: 20px;}#scorch_speak {color: #959896;}</style><center><div class="scorch_container"><img class="scorch_image" src="http://i.imgur.com/hpKHoPn.jpg"><div class="scorch_gradient"></div><p class="scorch_quote">WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT</p><p class="scorch_message">She is in their thicket when it happens.<I>Theirs,</i> though it can't possibly be so; the lands were upturned, destroyed, remade. The small clearing in the dense Jungle underbrush where Scorch raised each of her children is no longer - and yet, as she stands, eyes closed and breath even, an unmistakable scent washes over her. She smiles; an ugly sight, but he would not think so.
<font color=#959896>"Hey, baby,"</font> she says to the scent, though to her knowledge, only the wind can hear her useless musings. <font color=#959896>"I wish you were really here."</font>
<b>"He is."</b>
Her massive frame jolts at the hard-spoken words, masculine and powerful. A tangible spear of light is aimed at the creature's exposed jugular, shadows curling around his ankles to chain him to the spot; but the man waves his hand impatiently and brushes her magic aside as if it is powerless.
And indeed, in his wake, it is.
Scorch's molten eyes take in the sight of the creature with more than a slight skepticism: he is the same breed as the Trickster Loki from her youth, the one who commanded her to fight the dragon, and who left her screaming and burning, but also magically sighted. But when she steps forward, ears flattened to her hairless skull, she can see that the deity is not Loki. Still, she bares her teeth.
<font color=#959896>"Leave me be,"</font> she snarls. Ever the impulsive brat; for a moment, she swears that someone behind her chuckles. <font color=#959896>"I don't have any hair left for you to steal from me."</font>
The man is smiling now, shaking his head. <b>"Scorch, look behind you before I lose my patience."</b> When the mare only squints her eyes at him, he gestures largely with his arms, waving her away. <b>"Go on! You've been working hard for your keep here in reality. Consider this a reward."</b>
At those strange and somehow intrusive words, Scorch sends the ugly two-legged a final glare before slowly wheeling around.
<font color=#959896>"Hestoni!"</font> His name is the first thing on her mind in the morning, and the last word on her lips at night as she prays. His image is beside her at every moment, his every thought present in her mind: but until now, he has remained physically separate. Until now, she has lived every day of her second life without knowing his touch. His embrace. His love.
She rams into him with nary a thought, much as she had in life, as well as in death: they had spent many years together on the beach, but life had had different plans for the fiery woman. His warm chestnut-red fur mingles with her scars, his lips are pressing at every square inch of skin they can reach, his breath hot, heavy, beautiful upon her. And in return, she too kisses, devotes, worships him: the warrior queen rendered a silly, love-sick girl at his presence.
<font color=#959896>"Oh Toni, baby, husband, I love you so much."</font> There are tears in her eyes - gods, will she ever learn not to wear her emotions on her sleeves? - and a euphoric grin on her mutilated lips. He is nodding frantically at her words, clearly unable to speak, but the motion is enough: he is enough: enough.
The mare pulls away, kissing as she goes, until they are nose to nose: still touching, but far enough that she can gauge his reactions to her next words. <font color=#959896>"I adopted another daughter, Philomena."</font> Hestoni nods, smiles, joy overriding his titanic features. <font color=#959896>"You would love her, you were always a sucker for the girls."</font> Her tone is playful, but at the last her face screws up, an attempt not to cry: a failure. But he understands; and he smiles; and he is crying too.
<font color=#959896>"I'm sorry I left you behind."</font> He is shaking his head now, reaching for her though his hooves cannot move, pulling her quaking form to his chest as he always had when she got like this. Just a girl, marred by fire, by insecurities, by the need for reassurance, touch, and love. Just a girl who loved him madly, and who loves him madly, and who fully intends to rejoin him again someday; and forevermore afterwards.
<font color=#959896>"I know, I know, you understand. And I love you for it."</font> She pulls him tighter, attempts to memorize his figure's every feature, though she had never forgotten in the first place. <font color=#959896>"But just remember that I'm your girl, always your girl and no one else's. And no matter what, I will find my way back to you - or, if that fails, I will find a way to bring you back to me."</font> Her laughter is a gurgle of sobs, but he laughs too. A hearty sound. Full, deep, as broad as his powerful ribs.
Silence overtakes them, then. The minutes stretch on as the lovers fall asleep in their well-worn embrace, the grooves of each other rejoicing at having found that which marked them so deeply, so profoundly. An immovable sense of peace serenades them to sleep, to a restfulness so complete that neither will wake up sad.
He is her rock.
She is his fire.
Together, they are in love: and that. That is enough.
Her eyes flutter open as a hand brushes her shoulders. The man, smiling more kindly than she remembers, eyes puffy with tears, stands. Wordless, but with too much meaning.
<font color=#959896>"Thank you,"</font> the mare murmurs. <font color=#959896>"Thank you."</font>
Closing her eyes, she nestles into Hestoni one last time.
<font color=#959896>"Ti amo mio titano."</font>
When she wakes up hours later, Scorch is alone, but not in the same way as before. Deep inside of her chest, something has been restored: a piece of her heart refurbished and renewed. The final part of her soul returned from the world of the dead.
<font color=#959896>"Hey, baby,"</font> she says to the wind.
The leaves rustle in the trees above their thicket.
<p><p class="scorch_name">Scorch</p><p class="scorch_title">Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle</p></div></center>
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