10-29-2020, 11:58 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-11-2021, 01:07 PM by Wysteria Fairy.)
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display|Mrs Saint Delafield' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style type="text/css"> .breach_container { position: relative; z-index: 1; background: url('https://i.postimg.cc/rpCTCTKT/rosebay-bg.png'); width: 600px; padding: 0 0 0 0; border: solid 1px #000; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 1px #000; } .breach_container p { margin: 0; } .breach_image { position: relative; z-index: 4; width: 600px; } .breach_text { position: relative; z-index: 6; width: 580px; margin-top: -300px; margin-bottom: 10px; border: solid 1px #000; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #000000; background: #1d1d1f; } .breach_message { position: relative; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify; color: #7f8386; padding: 30px; } .breach_name { position: absolute; z-index: 10; font: 70px 'Mrs Saint Delafield', cursive; text-align: right; color: #9ea19e; width: 100%; padding-bottom: 30px; top: 535px; right: 15px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #000; } .breach_quote { font: 20px 'Playfair Display', serif; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; color: #4b5053; padding-bottom: 30px; line-height: 1.8em; letter-spacing: 2px; } </style> <center> <div class="breach_container"> <div class="breach_name">Rosebay</div> <img class="breach_image" src="https://i.postimg.cc/gjMkyWtj/rosebay.png"> <div class="breach_text"> <p class="breach_message"> It feels strange to climb the mountain.
Feels strange to ask the faeries of something she thinks her mother perfectly capable of giving her. Feels strange to ask the faeries of anything. Or anyone, really. Even in her young age, there is a pride to her—something that teeters on arrogance, although she is young enough that it has not fully blossomed yet.
Instead, it rests behind her ribcage like a promise, like a thing yet untapped.
So she makes the climb. Her delicate, youthful legs moving upward into the cold air. Her bones ache by the time that she arrives, her lungs stinging, but she refuses to let such discomfort show on her face. Instead she waits until her breath is gathered to move forward—although even this is not enough to hide the faint sheen of sweat that shows on her thin neck, on the place where her armor would one day grow.
She takes a step forward and then another, until she feels the air shift, nearly thicken.
It is different than her mother’s magic and yet similar enough that she recognizes the hum of it.
Pausing, she lifts her gaze, unknowing that her mother had come just days before to seek her own request of the faeries. Finally, she angles her head. “If you are anything like mother, you already know what lives in my head,” her voice is delicate but not commanding. Perhaps before this, she is cowed enough. Perhaps she is simply respectful enough to her mother’s gift to extend the same thing that birthed it.
Regardless, she continues. “There’s something in me that I need.” It’s the only way that she knows how to phrase it. How to bring words to the dreams that haunt her—the endless desire of unknown that taunts her at night. It comes in waves, these dreams. These promises of daggers and vipers.
“I was hoping you could help me find it.” </p> <p class="breach_quote">but in all chaos, there is calculation </p> </div> </div> </center>
Rosebay is questing to express her Poison Manipulation. I'd like to cash in the auto-successful quest from last year please!
Feels strange to ask the faeries of something she thinks her mother perfectly capable of giving her. Feels strange to ask the faeries of anything. Or anyone, really. Even in her young age, there is a pride to her—something that teeters on arrogance, although she is young enough that it has not fully blossomed yet.
Instead, it rests behind her ribcage like a promise, like a thing yet untapped.
So she makes the climb. Her delicate, youthful legs moving upward into the cold air. Her bones ache by the time that she arrives, her lungs stinging, but she refuses to let such discomfort show on her face. Instead she waits until her breath is gathered to move forward—although even this is not enough to hide the faint sheen of sweat that shows on her thin neck, on the place where her armor would one day grow.
She takes a step forward and then another, until she feels the air shift, nearly thicken.
It is different than her mother’s magic and yet similar enough that she recognizes the hum of it.
Pausing, she lifts her gaze, unknowing that her mother had come just days before to seek her own request of the faeries. Finally, she angles her head. “If you are anything like mother, you already know what lives in my head,” her voice is delicate but not commanding. Perhaps before this, she is cowed enough. Perhaps she is simply respectful enough to her mother’s gift to extend the same thing that birthed it.
Regardless, she continues. “There’s something in me that I need.” It’s the only way that she knows how to phrase it. How to bring words to the dreams that haunt her—the endless desire of unknown that taunts her at night. It comes in waves, these dreams. These promises of daggers and vipers.
“I was hoping you could help me find it.” </p> <p class="breach_quote">but in all chaos, there is calculation </p> </div> </div> </center>
Rosebay is questing to express her Poison Manipulation. I'd like to cash in the auto-successful quest from last year please!