09-07-2016, 04:26 AM
<center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel|PT+Sans+Narrow" rel="stylesheet"><div style="width: 550px; background: url('http://i.imgur.com/YrPKCcf.png'); padding-top: 10px; background-position: top; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-color: #121212; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px; box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #000000;"><center><div style="width: 450px; margin-top: 300px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; padding: 10px; background-color: #ffffff; background-color: #a2a2a2; font-family: Times; letter-spacing: 0px; color: #000000; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 140%; text-align: justify; border-left: 1px solid #2d2d2d; border-right: 1px solid #2d2d2d; border-top: 1px solid #2d2d2d; border-bottom: 1px solid #2d2d2d; border-radius: 0px 0px; border-shadow: #000000; 0px 10px ">
He was, and forever would be, a slave to the land. The once-King did not hold allegiances with blood, but rather to honor, and having given his services to the Queen of his former homeland—former kingdom—he stood beside her to aid her in however was necessary to make sure that they would eventually find a home safe and sound. That the all-mother wished to string them up on jibbets for sport and make them dance a jig for their powers—for their existence—made him angry, but Ashley schooled his features to present a calm exterior, moving to stand next to Tiphon in solidarity of their mission. This fairy was in want of supplication from them, but he would give none. He would say what was necessary, <i>if</i> became necessary, but to lower himself before one who so enjoyed toying with her subjects?
He would not do it.
And so he remained silent, his head held still as the limestone he had identified with for so long. Only the wind blew passed him slightly, while he awaited the fairy’s judgment, whatever that might be.</div>
<center><div style="font-family: 'Cinzel', serif; font-size: 60px; color: #c4c4c4; line-height:30pt; padding-top: 18px; align:center; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #9c9c9c; text-transform: uppercase;">ashley</div><div style="font-family: 'PT Sans Narrow', sans-serif; color: #767678; font-size: 9.5pt; text-align: center; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom:10px; line-height: 15pt; letter-spacing: .5px;">how many times can I break ‘til I shatter?</div></center></div></center>
He was, and forever would be, a slave to the land. The once-King did not hold allegiances with blood, but rather to honor, and having given his services to the Queen of his former homeland—former kingdom—he stood beside her to aid her in however was necessary to make sure that they would eventually find a home safe and sound. That the all-mother wished to string them up on jibbets for sport and make them dance a jig for their powers—for their existence—made him angry, but Ashley schooled his features to present a calm exterior, moving to stand next to Tiphon in solidarity of their mission. This fairy was in want of supplication from them, but he would give none. He would say what was necessary, <i>if</i> became necessary, but to lower himself before one who so enjoyed toying with her subjects?
He would not do it.
And so he remained silent, his head held still as the limestone he had identified with for so long. Only the wind blew passed him slightly, while he awaited the fairy’s judgment, whatever that might be.</div>
<center><div style="font-family: 'Cinzel', serif; font-size: 60px; color: #c4c4c4; line-height:30pt; padding-top: 18px; align:center; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #9c9c9c; text-transform: uppercase;">ashley</div><div style="font-family: 'PT Sans Narrow', sans-serif; color: #767678; font-size: 9.5pt; text-align: center; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom:10px; line-height: 15pt; letter-spacing: .5px;">how many times can I break ‘til I shatter?</div></center></div></center>