12-07-2019, 09:28 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; bottom: 75px; left: 10px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #26256a;} .peegrine_ju {position: absolute; z-index: 6; font: 65px 'Sacramento'; color: #26256a; bottom: 75px; 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">Before Jude is crystal water that her throat aches for. She stares longingly, lavender eyes flickering with pained desire. For a moment, the rippling liquid reflects so clearly in her pupils that it could be another world. The pool calls and the pastel mare can no longer contain herself: she rushes near joyfully into its outspread arms. Cool and smooth, the water is calming enough to allow Jude to shut her eyes.
Still on edge from her encounter with the Vadar clone, the pegasus merely lips at the water cautiously. She scans the surrounding shore until a sudden tug drags her face beneath the pale blue. A gasp of air is all she is able to grab before being fully submerged; but when she opens her eyes, she finds she can breathe again.
A black mare, rushed and somber, sticks out of the surrounding fog. Jude briefly thinks she is back where she began, but that thought is quickly wiped away when a cliff’s edge is revealed by broken up mist. Hmm, she hums to herself as the woman continues her hurried path despite its inevitable end.
Instinctively, the pegasus mare stumbles a few steps forward when she realizes what is about to happen but—
Anatomy teeters and . . .
Water flies in an arch when Jude whips her head from beneath the pool’s surface. Her chest heaves but the visions call again, and she finds herself submerged only a moment after catching her breath.
Golden and white, beautiful, Craft exists beneath a desert sunset like the sky just birthed her there. The air is perfectly still and something about the coming night truly resonates with Jude. She watches with the faintest smile, mesmerized by the magic of the past; but her trance is broken by the attack of a sweating stallion, and the smile is violently wiped from her mouth.
He kills the palomino woman brutally, even as she puts up a good fight. The pegasus’ hooves are rooted to the sand as she is forced to watch the madman gouge his eyes out with his hooves. She swallows back disgust and closes her eyes. When she reopens them, she mostly expects to be somewhere new; instead, the scene has restarted, and Jude’s disgust returns tenfold.
“No,” Jude gasps, the sensation of being a ghost eradicated by her adrenaline and feminine justice. Once was enough, she thinks, finding the murdering of this woman somehow even more wrong in its playback. Suddenly, she launches forward, wings tensing to whip out and buffer Garbage away from Craft.
The orange-eyed madman is startled by the pastel mare’s rush; so, he falters on one of his attacks, and Jude squeezes between the space between his front and Craft’s side. Just as she defended herself before, her wings swing forward to force the stallion to back off. The force of her defense sends her stumbling a single step backward, but she is able to turn that backward momentum into a turn.
Jude remains agile even in her frightened state, twisting long legs just so that when she turns to face Craft, her left wing smacks into Garbage. She hears what she thinks are his knees crashing into the sand as her now-aching wing retreats to her side.
“Somethin’ tells me you’re not the type to need to be ordered but—” Jude starts, but is cut off both by the fierce look in Craft’s eyes and the words spilling from her mouth.
“I’m not. Move.”
Jude does as she is told, tucking her injured wing to her side and sidestepping robotically. The hypnotist steps toward the now kneeling Garbage and looks over him with a scoff, then crushes his esophagus with the weight of her two front hooves.
“Oh,” Jude says, then laughs. “He deserved that.”
The air grows quiet and still, Craft offering no immediate response.</div></div><img class="peegrine_img" src="https://i.postimg.cc/Vk6dHkpm/jude-pink.jpg"><div class="peegrine_grade"></div></div></center>
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; bottom: 75px; left: 10px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #26256a;} .peegrine_ju {position: absolute; z-index: 6; font: 65px 'Sacramento'; color: #26256a; bottom: 75px; 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">Before Jude is crystal water that her throat aches for. She stares longingly, lavender eyes flickering with pained desire. For a moment, the rippling liquid reflects so clearly in her pupils that it could be another world. The pool calls and the pastel mare can no longer contain herself: she rushes near joyfully into its outspread arms. Cool and smooth, the water is calming enough to allow Jude to shut her eyes.Still on edge from her encounter with the Vadar clone, the pegasus merely lips at the water cautiously. She scans the surrounding shore until a sudden tug drags her face beneath the pale blue. A gasp of air is all she is able to grab before being fully submerged; but when she opens her eyes, she finds she can breathe again.
A black mare, rushed and somber, sticks out of the surrounding fog. Jude briefly thinks she is back where she began, but that thought is quickly wiped away when a cliff’s edge is revealed by broken up mist. Hmm, she hums to herself as the woman continues her hurried path despite its inevitable end.
Instinctively, the pegasus mare stumbles a few steps forward when she realizes what is about to happen but—
Anatomy teeters and . . .
Water flies in an arch when Jude whips her head from beneath the pool’s surface. Her chest heaves but the visions call again, and she finds herself submerged only a moment after catching her breath.
Golden and white, beautiful, Craft exists beneath a desert sunset like the sky just birthed her there. The air is perfectly still and something about the coming night truly resonates with Jude. She watches with the faintest smile, mesmerized by the magic of the past; but her trance is broken by the attack of a sweating stallion, and the smile is violently wiped from her mouth.
He kills the palomino woman brutally, even as she puts up a good fight. The pegasus’ hooves are rooted to the sand as she is forced to watch the madman gouge his eyes out with his hooves. She swallows back disgust and closes her eyes. When she reopens them, she mostly expects to be somewhere new; instead, the scene has restarted, and Jude’s disgust returns tenfold.
“No,” Jude gasps, the sensation of being a ghost eradicated by her adrenaline and feminine justice. Once was enough, she thinks, finding the murdering of this woman somehow even more wrong in its playback. Suddenly, she launches forward, wings tensing to whip out and buffer Garbage away from Craft.
The orange-eyed madman is startled by the pastel mare’s rush; so, he falters on one of his attacks, and Jude squeezes between the space between his front and Craft’s side. Just as she defended herself before, her wings swing forward to force the stallion to back off. The force of her defense sends her stumbling a single step backward, but she is able to turn that backward momentum into a turn.
Jude remains agile even in her frightened state, twisting long legs just so that when she turns to face Craft, her left wing smacks into Garbage. She hears what she thinks are his knees crashing into the sand as her now-aching wing retreats to her side.
“Somethin’ tells me you’re not the type to need to be ordered but—” Jude starts, but is cut off both by the fierce look in Craft’s eyes and the words spilling from her mouth.
“I’m not. Move.”
Jude does as she is told, tucking her injured wing to her side and sidestepping robotically. The hypnotist steps toward the now kneeling Garbage and looks over him with a scoff, then crushes his esophagus with the weight of her two front hooves.
“Oh,” Jude says, then laughs. “He deserved that.”
The air grows quiet and still, Craft offering no immediate response.</div></div><img class="peegrine_img" src="https://i.postimg.cc/Vk6dHkpm/jude-pink.jpg"><div class="peegrine_grade"></div></div></center>
