Jesper
06-07-2018, 10:54 AM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Lora|Nothing+You+Could+Do" rel="stylesheet"> <style type="text/css">.jesperlayer1{position:relative;z-index:0;background:url('http://i63.tinypic.com/30tko01.jpg');width:540px;padding-top:20px;padding-bottom:20px;border:4px solid #000000;border-radius:50px 50px 250px 250px;}.jesperlayer1:hover .jesperimage{-webkit-filter:grayscale(0%);filter:grayscale(0%);}.jesperlayer1:hover .jespername{-webkit-filter:grayscale(0%);filter:grayscale(0%);}.jesperlayer2{position:relative;z-index:1;background-color:#000000;border:5px solid #333333;width:500px;border-radius:50px 50px 250px 250px;box-shadow:0px 0px 10px 5px #000000;} .jesperimage{position:relative;z-index:2;background:url('http://i64.tinypic.com/2q060r5.jpg') no-repeat;transition:filter .5s ease-in-out;-webkit-filter: grayscale(100%);filter: grayscale(100%);height:338px;border-radius:50px 50px 0px 0px;}.jespergradient{position:relative;z-index:3;width:500px;top:-50px;margin-bottom:-50px;height:50px;background:-ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%, rgba(0,0,0,1) 100%);background:-webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(0,0,0,1) 100%);background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(0,0,0,1) 100%);}.jespertextbox{position:relative;z-index:4;width:450px;text-align:justify;color:#999999;font:14px 'Times',serif;border:0px solid #000000;border-radius:0px 0px 250px 250px;margin-bottom:25px;margin-top:25px;}.jespername{position:relative;z-index:5;color:#b2f6ff;font:80px 'Nothing You Could Do', cursive;padding:0px;transition:filter .5s ease-in-out;-webkit-filter: grayscale(100%);filter: grayscale(100%);}.jesperlineage{position:relative;z-index:5;color:#666666;text-shadow:0px 0px 5px #3f808c;font:15px 'Lora', serif;bottom:25px;}.jesperpaw{position:relative;z-index:6;background:url('http://i63.tinypic.com/2gt5aok.png');width:100px;height:105px;margin-bottom:25px;}</style><center><div class="jesperlayer1"><div class="jesperlayer2"><div class="jesperimage"></div><div class="jespergradient"></div><div class="jespertextbox">Jesper did make it home. Though, most days Ischia did not feel like home. Don't take that the wrong way. Lamb, Brennen and, his brothers did everything they could to make him feel safe and, put his worries to bed. He just could not escape from his own mind. His thoughts held him as much a prisoner as Sylva did. He often found his think-box wandering back to those paranoid strolls through the autumnal forest. His lobes swivel atop his poll in a frantic scan for any, out-of-place noise. His worried aquamarine eyes are wide with anxiety and, flit across the scenery in search of looming threats. His nostrils flare and, slowly filter through large volumes of air to detect the slightest hint of a stranger. His ebony pelt is tautly stretched across tense muscles and, every fiber of his being is ready to be called upon. Despite being out of the grasps of evil, he absolutely could not shake the feeling that he was being watched.<br><br>In order to escape these panic-stricken episodes, Jesper sought retreat on the island. He climbed to her highest elevation. Here, he could eliminate the threat of evil sneaking up on him from above or, behind. Rather, the flora and fauna grew sparse up here. This allowed for better visibility and, less hiding places for stealthy advances. His company included the sun and, her nurturing warmth, the clouds and, the gentle whisper of the wind. Occasionally, a brave parrot would leave the comforts of its flock to perch on a branch nearby and, sunbathe. He did find it odd that the bird would fly here though, perhaps it was Brennen's subtle way of keeping an eye on him without literally breathing down his neck. Neverthless, the ebony equine did not mind the foul's company. He would allow his mind to drift away, from darkness, as he watched the breeze ruffle its delicate feathers and, listened to its content hums.<br><br>When he found himself alone, Jesper chose to stare out towards the horizon. From this elevation, he could see the vast sea, in all of her glory. As he stared and, studied it, he noticed that the edge of the ocean is not a straight line. An irregular mass is visible just to the left (northeast) of where the daystar rises each morning. Whether the light of day or, night touches it, the blob was a different consistency and density than that of water. It never changed shape nor, did it move from its location. Every time he looked in that direction, he found it, looming there. He puzzled on this; on the possibility that other lands existed outside Beqanna. Did they possess life like Beqanna? Did they possess magic? Love and war? These deeply intellectual thoughts were a welcome distraction from his usual musings.<br><br>One crisp day, while Jesper stood atop the safety of his post, his ears pick up an unfamiliar buzz. It was nothing like the rubbing of a flies wings together. It was a mechanical whir he had never heard before. He grew tense and, immediately, began searching for it. From above, from in between the white wisps of cloud vapor, came a small object which heads straight towards Jesper. It bore wings, though they did not flap like a bird's. It had a glossy window where a pair of eyes should be though, their were no eyelids or, blinking. Realizing that this foreign contraption was headed towards him and, afraid of what its arrival meant for him, the stallion shifts into motion. Muscular haunches engage, as they were prepared to, and push the desert-bred equine down the slope he adorned.<br><br>Light footfalls drum the loam and, onyx male enters the heart of the jungle's foliage. He makes sure not to lead it in the direction of his king or, his brothers. Rather, he zigs and zags through the maze of tree trunks until he feels he has lost it. He slides into a stop and, with sides heaving, he draws in several breaths to replace the oxygen stores just depleted. Lobes face rearward, as Jesper pants, to listen for the drone's buzz. Much to his dismay, the echo of its buzz reverberates off the nearby foliage and the tufts of his ears. With it hot on his tail, he does not hesitate to shift into gear. He chooses an easy lope to carry him to the northern shores, away from his job and, the rest of Beqanna. As his hooves churn the sands of the coast, Jesper applies the brakes and, his limbs slow into an animated jog. He pivots to face his chaser with lobes pinned flat to poll, sides heaving with rapid inspires and expires and, his stare as cold and unwavering as ice. Jesper locks onto the approaching gadget and, studies its every sway in the coastal breeze. It falters for a few moments and then, it charges at him. The ebony stag rises onto his hind pillars and, strikes his front limbs at the unknown attacker. Hooves jab and claw but the device is not deterred.<br><br>Gravity soon brings the equine ungracefully back to solid ground on all fours. As his weight slams into the gritty terrain, a high-pitched whistle is heard from his left. And then, a sharp pinch, the jab of a tranquilizer dart, is felt in his neck. Skull swivels to allow gaze to identify the drone's new position. With it hovering just off to his left, labrums peel back to unsheathe teeth which part and snap at the object. The sudden snaking of his head, combined with the sedative now coursing through his veins, is enough to throw his balance off. Limbs shuffle to catch himself and, while successful for a moment, his vision becomes extremely blurry the next. The emerald forest of Ischia blurs and the light of day fades. Before he knows it, Jesper finds himself sinking onto his knees, in the cool sand and, his eyelids growing heavy.<br><br>He falls into a dark slumber and, remains unaware of the invasion that occurs on the northern shore. He can not hear the purr of the boat's motor as it enters the shallows, the cease of its rumbles as the waves push it ashore or, the scraping of the bottom of the boat against the sand. He does not hear the excited voices of the two-leggeds who rush towards him and, examine his sleek, fit form as he lays there. He does not feel the canvas sling embracing his chest or, the soft flesh of human fingertips lifting his front legs to slide the wrap into position. He does not feel the sling wrap around his midsection and, tighten over his back. He does not hear the crank of the crane that lifts him from the sands of Ischia and, lowers him into the metal holding cell on deck. He does not hear or feel the vibrations of the motor as it comes to life again.<br><br>
He remains unaware of the jostling and rocking of the vessel across the sea as it returns to its home port. He is unaware of the gurney that the crane hoists him onto and, transports him from the boat, down the dock and, into another vehicle on wheels. This vehicle carries the unconscious Jesper, to the research lab, however far away that is. He is unaware of being unloaded from the vehicle upon his squeaky wheeled ride. He does not feel the sterile air that rushes over him as he enters the laboratory. He can not feel the warmth of the clean water or, the sensation of soap being rubbed into every crevice his pelt covers. He does not hear the rush of water as the soap and, dirt that make him Jesper, are rinsed down the drain. He does not feel the second bath; this one a disinfecting scrub that, if he could smell it, smells strongly of chemicals: chlorhexidine to be exact. He does not feel the second poke; this time of a large guage needle piercing through his pelt to withdraw a sample of crimson from his veins. He remains unaware of when they have finished initiating him and, finally, move him to an isolated room.<br><br>Slowly, he becomes aware of his own heartbeat and, his gentle breaths. He can feel the cool air surrounding him and, the absence of any sound or, smell he recognizes. When his eyelids do finally, groggily, lift, a harsh light causes his pupils to shrink and his lids to close protectively once more. He is far too disoriented to move and so, he decides to remain where he is, folded up in a peaceful, resting position for now. His tufted lobes swivel and scan with radar intelligence though, he only hears silence. His nostrils inhale a similar emptiness as there is a distinct absence to the air. He detects a void of dirt, salt, must, urine, equine or, any foliage. He attempts to open his eyes once again. This time, he does so very slowly to allow his gaze to adjust to the bright light that bathes him.<br><br>He permits himself several blinks to clear the grogginess from his vision before he focuses on the stark emptiness of this place. He is alone. He cannot hear the chatter or, breathing of another. He just barely picks up on the current of electricity flowing through the bars of light coming from the ceiling. It does not flicker or, buzz. He only sees four vertical walls of white. The floor is white and, the ceiling is white, though tinted slightly blue where the light emanates from. Whiskered muzzle reaches out to push against the floor he lays upon and, much to his surprise, it is not solid like earth's soil. It seems plush and gives beneath his touch though, it then bounces back to its original fullness when he releases the pressure of his touch.<br><br>
Feeling steady enough to stand, Jesper pulls his front limbs under him to push himself into a sit. He then pops his haunches up and, unfolds his hind legs to balance his weight. Once on all fours, the ebony equine extends his right front and, notes that his white marking is no longer stained with nature's touch. Right front hoof applies pressure to the floor to confirm that it is padded, rather cushy. It depresses as he shifts his weight onto the limbs and, supports him with ease as he shuffles forward. He continues until his wiry whiskers bump against the nearest barrier. It is cold and, bears the same leathery texture of the floor. He bumps his nose into it as he had done with the floor and, finds that it also gives to the pressure of his touch. He follows the wall until he reaches where it meets the next barrier, perpendicular to this one. The room is too small to allow for a trot or canter; however, he rushes forward as the sensation of being trapped closes in on him. He continues, corner to corner, in order to assess this strange white box. He finds no faults or blemishes in the integrity of its structure, not in the floor or, the wall or, the ceiling.<br><br>As he realizes that he is once again a prisoner, he sighs heavily. He shuffles back to the middle of the room and, there, he sinks into the floor and folds himself into the smallest possible form to await what would happen to him next. There was no use in panicking now. He had to preserve his energy for the challenges that lay ahead. His thoughts drift back to Lamb and Brennen who, if they had not noticed his absence by now, surely would soon. Hopefully, they would know that he did not volunteer this time. He could only hope that if there was any chance of finding him, his Brothers and Sisters would leave no leaf unturned.</div><div class="jespername">jesper</div><div class="jesperlineage">carnage x bethanie</div><div class="jesperpaw"></div></div></div><font size="2">devin's∇designs</font></center>
He remains unaware of the jostling and rocking of the vessel across the sea as it returns to its home port. He is unaware of the gurney that the crane hoists him onto and, transports him from the boat, down the dock and, into another vehicle on wheels. This vehicle carries the unconscious Jesper, to the research lab, however far away that is. He is unaware of being unloaded from the vehicle upon his squeaky wheeled ride. He does not feel the sterile air that rushes over him as he enters the laboratory. He can not feel the warmth of the clean water or, the sensation of soap being rubbed into every crevice his pelt covers. He does not hear the rush of water as the soap and, dirt that make him Jesper, are rinsed down the drain. He does not feel the second bath; this one a disinfecting scrub that, if he could smell it, smells strongly of chemicals: chlorhexidine to be exact. He does not feel the second poke; this time of a large guage needle piercing through his pelt to withdraw a sample of crimson from his veins. He remains unaware of when they have finished initiating him and, finally, move him to an isolated room.<br><br>Slowly, he becomes aware of his own heartbeat and, his gentle breaths. He can feel the cool air surrounding him and, the absence of any sound or, smell he recognizes. When his eyelids do finally, groggily, lift, a harsh light causes his pupils to shrink and his lids to close protectively once more. He is far too disoriented to move and so, he decides to remain where he is, folded up in a peaceful, resting position for now. His tufted lobes swivel and scan with radar intelligence though, he only hears silence. His nostrils inhale a similar emptiness as there is a distinct absence to the air. He detects a void of dirt, salt, must, urine, equine or, any foliage. He attempts to open his eyes once again. This time, he does so very slowly to allow his gaze to adjust to the bright light that bathes him.<br><br>He permits himself several blinks to clear the grogginess from his vision before he focuses on the stark emptiness of this place. He is alone. He cannot hear the chatter or, breathing of another. He just barely picks up on the current of electricity flowing through the bars of light coming from the ceiling. It does not flicker or, buzz. He only sees four vertical walls of white. The floor is white and, the ceiling is white, though tinted slightly blue where the light emanates from. Whiskered muzzle reaches out to push against the floor he lays upon and, much to his surprise, it is not solid like earth's soil. It seems plush and gives beneath his touch though, it then bounces back to its original fullness when he releases the pressure of his touch.<br><br>
Feeling steady enough to stand, Jesper pulls his front limbs under him to push himself into a sit. He then pops his haunches up and, unfolds his hind legs to balance his weight. Once on all fours, the ebony equine extends his right front and, notes that his white marking is no longer stained with nature's touch. Right front hoof applies pressure to the floor to confirm that it is padded, rather cushy. It depresses as he shifts his weight onto the limbs and, supports him with ease as he shuffles forward. He continues until his wiry whiskers bump against the nearest barrier. It is cold and, bears the same leathery texture of the floor. He bumps his nose into it as he had done with the floor and, finds that it also gives to the pressure of his touch. He follows the wall until he reaches where it meets the next barrier, perpendicular to this one. The room is too small to allow for a trot or canter; however, he rushes forward as the sensation of being trapped closes in on him. He continues, corner to corner, in order to assess this strange white box. He finds no faults or blemishes in the integrity of its structure, not in the floor or, the wall or, the ceiling.<br><br>As he realizes that he is once again a prisoner, he sighs heavily. He shuffles back to the middle of the room and, there, he sinks into the floor and folds himself into the smallest possible form to await what would happen to him next. There was no use in panicking now. He had to preserve his energy for the challenges that lay ahead. His thoughts drift back to Lamb and Brennen who, if they had not noticed his absence by now, surely would soon. Hopefully, they would know that he did not volunteer this time. He could only hope that if there was any chance of finding him, his Brothers and Sisters would leave no leaf unturned.</div><div class="jespername">jesper</div><div class="jesperlineage">carnage x bethanie</div><div class="jesperpaw"></div></div></div><font size="2">devin's∇designs</font></center>