12-03-2019, 11:34 PM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Sacramento&display=swap" rel="stylesheet"><style type="text/css"> .peegrine_container {position: relative; z-index: 1; width: 400px; background-color: #C6B3AC;border: 1px solid black; padding-top: 10px;} .peegrine_img {position: relative;z-index: 2; width: 400px;} .peegrine_container p {margin: 0;}.peegrine_grade {position: absolute;z-index:3;bottom: 198px;width:400px;height: 70px;background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(198,179,172,0.65) 0%, rgba(198,179,172,0) 100%);background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(198,179,172,0.65) 0%,rgba(198,179,172,0) 100%);background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(198,179,172,0.65) 0%,rgba(198,179,172,0) 100%);filter: progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#a6c6b3ac', endColorstr='#00c6b3ac',GradientType=0 );}.peegrine_msg {position: relative; z-index: 4; width: 350px; background-color: #ECE7E4; border: 1px solid black;} .peegrine_txt {position: relative; z-index: 5; text-align: justify; font: 12px 'Times'; color: #26256a; padding: 10px;} .peegrine_pe {position: absolute; z-index: 6; font: 65px 'Sacramento'; color: #26256a; top: 400px; left: 10px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #26256a;} .peegrine_ju {position: absolute; z-index: 6; font: 65px 'Sacramento'; color: #26256a; top: 400px; left: 315px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #26256a;} </style> <center><div class="peegrine_container"><div class="peegrine_pe">peregrine</div><div class="peegrine_ju">jude</div><div class="peegrine_msg"><div class="peegrine_txt">Tephra has stood the test of time, this much its residents and leaders can affirm. Through fire, storm, lava, and tyranny—she lives to see the decades as they trickle through the gods’ fickle fingers. The seconds and minutes turn as the resident magma hardens over stone and plant alike. She is a beautiful country, tried and true and ever-facing the future with a steady hand.
This Jude knows, even as her pastel head bobs low enough to the ground to indicate irritation. She knows she loves her home and the years it has given her, but a storm brews in her chest, one unlike the picturesque tropical flowers that surround her.
This is where shadow and sunshine lives. Memories that age poorly rot in the back of Jude’s mind. The sway of a large green leaf reminds her of the ripple of Magnus’ smile. The curls of Tephra’s rolling and soft clouds look like the pale roan of her closest daughter. When it rains, it pours, and curling beneath a low-hanging ledge reminds her that she has no memory of finding refuge beside a lover.
The rain, in all of its beauty, makes her so terribly lonely.
So, when the sky rumbles above, and Jude’s only response is a pathetic flick of her ears and a soft sigh, she knows it is time to move on. She lifts her head slowly, lavender curls bouncing against her forehead and settling just low enough to irritate her eyes. A few years ago, the pegasus may have shaken them out of her way in irritation, but now—now, she merely lets them blind her, knowing that even with nothing obscuring her vision she will be unable to truly see.
Depression is not foreign to Jude, but she has always been the kind to fight it off when it sickens her. Even now, as she mulls over the coming storm and picks a quiet path out of her home, there is no real energy or plan behind her steps.
Perhaps that is why she does not notice the mist that wraps wrinkled fingers around her legs. White and viscous, it twines about her neck and thickens her breath; still, the pale mare treks, lavender gaze dull and unphased. A part of the storm, she thinks—I’ll take cover beneath the trees. And the sky does burst open, tearing through her soft fur to dampen the skin beneath, but she does not find relief beneath a glistening canopy.
Instead, the rain fades both in sound and sensation, leaving Jude to step blindly through the fog. Suddenly she needs to shake her bangs from her eyes, even though she literally cannot see now. A low whicker burbles up from the back of her throat, one that is uneasy and mildly threatening. She pauses, one front hoof poised mid-air, even as she is incapable of knowing that there is even ground beneath her.
One hesitant step forward and the air begins to clear. The pastel mare shakes out her now heavy and uncomfortable mane, pale eyes glimmering with what might be the light of excitement. Sure, she may die, step over a cliff, find herself walking into the afterlife—but that thrum of life beats well and strong in her chest, and at least this is different from the graveyard of memories Tephra has become.
Sand crunches beneath Jude’s silver hooves and the air begins to change. With every foot further, the luscious jungle world changes into something even warmer. She swivels her head first to the left (white and tan, mist and sand), then to the right (green and yellow, tree and dirt). She pauses, shakes the water from her coat, and lifts her gaze again to see the fog has disappeared with the rain upon her skin.
A smile like the sun, breathless and awestruck, breaks the gloomy clouds of her lips. Wow is a whisper whisked from her mouth by the desert’s wind. Her eyes reflect the endless brown and blue before her: from the sky above to the sand and oasis ahead. Horses walk alone or in pairs in the distance, even closer than the beckoning water. With a grin, the pegasus mare begins a modest trot toward the watering hole.
Flecks of the earth tear at Jude’s pretty face, forcing her to tuck her chin close to her chest and pick up her pace. She brings her ruffled wings closer to her sides, too put off by the desert’s heat and air to trust taking flight. For a moment, she thinks she may have gone mad for taking literal non consensual teleportation so lightly, but that moment passes with the quickness of the stinging breeze.
If Jude has learned one thing from her time in Beqanna, it is that time and magic rule there with endless possibilities; so, she continues with a noncommittal roll of her shoulders and a renewed interest in life.
A familiar shade of silver black flashes quickly past the pink woman’s line of sight, causing her to softly gasp. Vadar. The stallion stops, red eyes glimmering just like her vicious lover’s. Even his lips match, Jude thinks to herself, both exhilarated and frightened.
“What are you doing here, Vadar? Did the mist take you, too?” Her questions are earnest and eager, but the creature before her only exudes smugness. A knot build’s in the pegasus mare’s chest, one not so unlike the day Vadar attempted to force himself upon her.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he retorts, turning to face her head on. He presses closer, dodging her questions while eyeing every inch of her body.
When Jude and Vadar collided after so long apart, the pastel woman’s head was held high and her words were slung low. She was a snarling cat cornered in an alleyway, and he a scrawny jailhouse dog. Both are committed to their raw natures, but still written together like yin and yang—
But this, this is not Vadar. This is not an equal push to her pull.
“What do you want me to be doing?” This is most certainly not an innocent question based off of the sneer on his face and the curl of his lips. Jude, so unlike the woman that faced Vadar down with a laugh, stumbles backward. A hesitant smile attempts to mask her apprehension.
“My mistake, I thought you were someone else.” Her reply is riddled with a nervous laugh (punching holes in what she hoped was an airtight defense), but her sinking heart tells her that this will not sway him.
“I can be what you want,” he coos, the sneer turning into a sleazy smile. Jude shuffles and averts her gaze, lavender feathers ruffling uncomfortable against her hide. “Come on, what do you—”
“Fuck off,” she states politely, slowly dragging her eyes back to his. He looks perplexed for a moment, pausing while his eyes flick around her in surprise; but it only works for a moment, and Jude quickly realizes she has to find more of the woman she has hidden away.
“I said fuck off,” she snaps, baring dull teeth that the stag swipes away with a butt of his head. Jude reels backward, head aching from the blow even as this act of physical violence births something feral in her chest.
“Who do you—” she begins but is cut off as the Vadar clone rams his chest into hers. The pegasus gasps, then plants her hooves into the sand and leans into his weight with a ferocity she forgot she contained. Her wings whip up and around and into the skin of her attacker. The battering hurts her appendages but they frighten and bruise him more.
“You fucked with the wrong winged bitch.” This comes out as a wolf’s snarl. Jude closes her eyes for two seconds, leveling what was left of her concentration into shoving the man away from her, when suddenly his weight entirely disappears. Knees first, the pastel mare falls blindly into the hot sand. She pants and blinks open her tightly closed eyes.
He’s gone, she thinks. Where did he go? She whips her head around to see if he somehow teleported behind her, but the only thing she sees is the brilliant blue of water.
“Wait,” she thinks aloud. “Wait. That was behind me last I checked?”
No matter, though: just like the mist, Jude takes this in stride (though a little more apprehensively this time). She peers at the blue and the green and the tan, attempting to swallow away the sandpaper sitting in the back of her throat.
Drink, she thinks, but the universe tells her no.</div></div><img class="peegrine_img" src="https://i.postimg.cc/Vk6dHkpm/jude-pink.jpg"><div class="peegrine_grade"></div></div></center>
tldr; jude faces off with a vadar look alike. also i'm using this as a reason to change jude's home so she was a part of tephra but as of a few paragraphs into this post she is looking for somewhere new.
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#a6c6b3ac', endColorstr='#00c6b3ac',GradientType=0 );}.peegrine_msg {position: relative; z-index: 4; width: 350px; background-color: #ECE7E4; border: 1px solid black;} .peegrine_txt {position: relative; z-index: 5; text-align: justify; font: 12px 'Times'; color: #26256a; padding: 10px;} .peegrine_pe {position: absolute; z-index: 6; font: 65px 'Sacramento'; color: #26256a; top: 400px; left: 10px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #26256a;} .peegrine_ju {position: absolute; z-index: 6; font: 65px 'Sacramento'; color: #26256a; top: 400px; left: 315px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #26256a;} </style> <center><div class="peegrine_container"><div class="peegrine_pe">peregrine</div><div class="peegrine_ju">jude</div><div class="peegrine_msg"><div class="peegrine_txt">Tephra has stood the test of time, this much its residents and leaders can affirm. Through fire, storm, lava, and tyranny—she lives to see the decades as they trickle through the gods’ fickle fingers. The seconds and minutes turn as the resident magma hardens over stone and plant alike. She is a beautiful country, tried and true and ever-facing the future with a steady hand.This Jude knows, even as her pastel head bobs low enough to the ground to indicate irritation. She knows she loves her home and the years it has given her, but a storm brews in her chest, one unlike the picturesque tropical flowers that surround her.
This is where shadow and sunshine lives. Memories that age poorly rot in the back of Jude’s mind. The sway of a large green leaf reminds her of the ripple of Magnus’ smile. The curls of Tephra’s rolling and soft clouds look like the pale roan of her closest daughter. When it rains, it pours, and curling beneath a low-hanging ledge reminds her that she has no memory of finding refuge beside a lover.
The rain, in all of its beauty, makes her so terribly lonely.
So, when the sky rumbles above, and Jude’s only response is a pathetic flick of her ears and a soft sigh, she knows it is time to move on. She lifts her head slowly, lavender curls bouncing against her forehead and settling just low enough to irritate her eyes. A few years ago, the pegasus may have shaken them out of her way in irritation, but now—now, she merely lets them blind her, knowing that even with nothing obscuring her vision she will be unable to truly see.
Depression is not foreign to Jude, but she has always been the kind to fight it off when it sickens her. Even now, as she mulls over the coming storm and picks a quiet path out of her home, there is no real energy or plan behind her steps.
Perhaps that is why she does not notice the mist that wraps wrinkled fingers around her legs. White and viscous, it twines about her neck and thickens her breath; still, the pale mare treks, lavender gaze dull and unphased. A part of the storm, she thinks—I’ll take cover beneath the trees. And the sky does burst open, tearing through her soft fur to dampen the skin beneath, but she does not find relief beneath a glistening canopy.
Instead, the rain fades both in sound and sensation, leaving Jude to step blindly through the fog. Suddenly she needs to shake her bangs from her eyes, even though she literally cannot see now. A low whicker burbles up from the back of her throat, one that is uneasy and mildly threatening. She pauses, one front hoof poised mid-air, even as she is incapable of knowing that there is even ground beneath her.
One hesitant step forward and the air begins to clear. The pastel mare shakes out her now heavy and uncomfortable mane, pale eyes glimmering with what might be the light of excitement. Sure, she may die, step over a cliff, find herself walking into the afterlife—but that thrum of life beats well and strong in her chest, and at least this is different from the graveyard of memories Tephra has become.
Sand crunches beneath Jude’s silver hooves and the air begins to change. With every foot further, the luscious jungle world changes into something even warmer. She swivels her head first to the left (white and tan, mist and sand), then to the right (green and yellow, tree and dirt). She pauses, shakes the water from her coat, and lifts her gaze again to see the fog has disappeared with the rain upon her skin.
A smile like the sun, breathless and awestruck, breaks the gloomy clouds of her lips. Wow is a whisper whisked from her mouth by the desert’s wind. Her eyes reflect the endless brown and blue before her: from the sky above to the sand and oasis ahead. Horses walk alone or in pairs in the distance, even closer than the beckoning water. With a grin, the pegasus mare begins a modest trot toward the watering hole.
Flecks of the earth tear at Jude’s pretty face, forcing her to tuck her chin close to her chest and pick up her pace. She brings her ruffled wings closer to her sides, too put off by the desert’s heat and air to trust taking flight. For a moment, she thinks she may have gone mad for taking literal non consensual teleportation so lightly, but that moment passes with the quickness of the stinging breeze.
If Jude has learned one thing from her time in Beqanna, it is that time and magic rule there with endless possibilities; so, she continues with a noncommittal roll of her shoulders and a renewed interest in life.
A familiar shade of silver black flashes quickly past the pink woman’s line of sight, causing her to softly gasp. Vadar. The stallion stops, red eyes glimmering just like her vicious lover’s. Even his lips match, Jude thinks to herself, both exhilarated and frightened.
“What are you doing here, Vadar? Did the mist take you, too?” Her questions are earnest and eager, but the creature before her only exudes smugness. A knot build’s in the pegasus mare’s chest, one not so unlike the day Vadar attempted to force himself upon her.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he retorts, turning to face her head on. He presses closer, dodging her questions while eyeing every inch of her body.
When Jude and Vadar collided after so long apart, the pastel woman’s head was held high and her words were slung low. She was a snarling cat cornered in an alleyway, and he a scrawny jailhouse dog. Both are committed to their raw natures, but still written together like yin and yang—
But this, this is not Vadar. This is not an equal push to her pull.
“What do you want me to be doing?” This is most certainly not an innocent question based off of the sneer on his face and the curl of his lips. Jude, so unlike the woman that faced Vadar down with a laugh, stumbles backward. A hesitant smile attempts to mask her apprehension.
“My mistake, I thought you were someone else.” Her reply is riddled with a nervous laugh (punching holes in what she hoped was an airtight defense), but her sinking heart tells her that this will not sway him.
“I can be what you want,” he coos, the sneer turning into a sleazy smile. Jude shuffles and averts her gaze, lavender feathers ruffling uncomfortable against her hide. “Come on, what do you—”
“Fuck off,” she states politely, slowly dragging her eyes back to his. He looks perplexed for a moment, pausing while his eyes flick around her in surprise; but it only works for a moment, and Jude quickly realizes she has to find more of the woman she has hidden away.
“I said fuck off,” she snaps, baring dull teeth that the stag swipes away with a butt of his head. Jude reels backward, head aching from the blow even as this act of physical violence births something feral in her chest.
“Who do you—” she begins but is cut off as the Vadar clone rams his chest into hers. The pegasus gasps, then plants her hooves into the sand and leans into his weight with a ferocity she forgot she contained. Her wings whip up and around and into the skin of her attacker. The battering hurts her appendages but they frighten and bruise him more.
“You fucked with the wrong winged bitch.” This comes out as a wolf’s snarl. Jude closes her eyes for two seconds, leveling what was left of her concentration into shoving the man away from her, when suddenly his weight entirely disappears. Knees first, the pastel mare falls blindly into the hot sand. She pants and blinks open her tightly closed eyes.
He’s gone, she thinks. Where did he go? She whips her head around to see if he somehow teleported behind her, but the only thing she sees is the brilliant blue of water.
“Wait,” she thinks aloud. “Wait. That was behind me last I checked?”
No matter, though: just like the mist, Jude takes this in stride (though a little more apprehensively this time). She peers at the blue and the green and the tan, attempting to swallow away the sandpaper sitting in the back of her throat.
Drink, she thinks, but the universe tells her no.</div></div><img class="peegrine_img" src="https://i.postimg.cc/Vk6dHkpm/jude-pink.jpg"><div class="peegrine_grade"></div></div></center>
tldr; jude faces off with a vadar look alike. also i'm using this as a reason to change jude's home so she was a part of tephra but as of a few paragraphs into this post she is looking for somewhere new.
