06-15-2019, 11:28 AM
<center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Fredericka+the+Great|Marcellus+SC|Special+Elite|Tangerine" rel="stylesheet"><style> .castcont {position:relative;z-index:1;width:560px;border:2px solid black;padding-top:20px;background:#061212;box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px black;border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;} .castquote {position:relative;z-index:2;text-align:right; font: 9px 'time new roman'; color: #f07e73;padding-bottom:20px;left:-10px;} .castmessage {position:relative; z-index:2;border-left:1px solid #f07e73;padding-right:50px;padding-left:10px;left:20px;text-align:justify;font:12px 'times new roman'; color:#AEB0AF;} .castgradient {position:relative;z-index:3;width:560;height:50px;top:20px;background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(6,18,18,1) 0%, rgba(125,185,232,0) 100%);background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(6,18,18,1) 0%,rgba(125,185,232,0) 100%);background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(6,18,18,1) 0%,rgba(125,185,232,0) 100%)} .castimage {position:relative;z-index:2;width:560px;margin:-30px;} .castname {position:relative;z-index:3;color:#f07e73;font:30px 'tangerine';top:-351px;left:190px;letter-spacing:15px;text-shadow: 13px 0px 4px #AEB0AF;}</style><div class=castcont> <div class="castquote">and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left<br>a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was</div><div class="castmessage">
There was a period of rest and recovery following Tephra’s minor destruction. Castile remembered seeing flames and smoke engulf the world before lava spewed and crawled across their battleground. Everything happened in a blink of an eye, but it’s all etched deeply into Castile’s memory nonetheless. One of those things – likely, a most prominent – was witnessing Sinner and Mary admit their disloyalty and betrayal. It was coming. He knew it would. A shout of dethronement was hurled at them, but Sinner expectedly refused.
Now, with his muscles mended and the lacerations scarred and puckered, he soars toward Sylva under the midday sun.
The challenge surpasses the reach of the deciduous trees, and Castile is piqued instantaneously. A plume of black smoke coils from his nostrils as a jagged grin stretches across his mouth. It was only a matter of time until the kings collided, the clash of titans. Lords of darkness and fire.
Castile quickly blinks to observe the world from a different perspective. When his eyes open, the trees blurring underneath look cold and so very lifeless. Small rodents and deer emit thermal signatures, but his abrupt descent doesn’t churn the air until he spots Sinner. It would be difficult to thread through the tree branches and touch down, so for simplicity, Castile shifts his body entirely into his draconic counterpart. With a downbeat of his wings, he climbs through the air only to turn and pivot at the peak of his ascension and begin a heated descent. A jet of flames shoots past his maw and licks a mass of trees, igniting their canopy and beyond only seconds before he barrels through. His scales protect him from the trees scraping against him as not all of them bend beneath his force and weight. Others crack and scream as they faint, sprawling across the forest floor before being ignited again.
The heat of summer supplements the dragon’s efforts. Everything is dry, catching on fire quickly – trees, shrubs, leaf beds scattered across the forest floor – and roaring in an angry blaze. Smoke pools around them, but still Castile sees Sinner’s thermal signature like a beacon in the night.
Amidst the fray, he expects Sinner to be moving and dodging the burning trees and shrubbery, which can provide some amount of distraction. Acting quickly – he has only been on the ground for a few heartbeats – Castile lunges forward in a feverish attempt to grab his opponent like a great white lurching toward the water’s surface after a seal. The power could stun him, dizzy him, but Castile’s primary goal is to latch down with predatory-sharp teeth on the left side of Sinner’s torso or hind leg. The length of his body and neck increase his reach and maneuverability if Sinner tries finding refuge behind any part of their immediate surroundings or lurching away. Simultaneously, Castile hopes to inflict damage and inhibit Sinner’s agility by puncturing the biceps femoris or anywhere in the lower abdomen due to the diameter of his open jaws. Ideally, a limp would cause a great hindrance even as adrenaline races through his body. It would slow down Sinner and lessen the strength of his strides and lunges, both offensively and defensively. Even if, with the diameter of his mouth, Castile was able to clamp down on the spine, he would be grateful to inhibit and weaken his opponent immediately into their battle. Anything to win, anything to force his submission.
Castile’s jaws snap shut on anything he can grab, but the moment he releases, he retracts and shifts back into a horse so that he may better protect himself with less surface area. Hardened scales still trace across his body and his eyes remain with slit pupils to rely on thermal reading as the smoke billows around them. His teeth remain jagged, but his claws recede and shift into chipped, worn hooves. Even his wings disappear without a trace, unnecessary with trees – both erect and falling – surrounding them. A low, primal noise escapes him as his body transitions from dragon to horse. With an intense stare, Castile watches his opponent while sparing occasional glances to their crumbling surroundings, stepping over scattered branches as needed.
</div> <div class="castgradient"></div> <img class="castimage" src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/3a/f6/0c/3af60ca3191f811e43ba97ce40851796.jpg"> <div class="castname">castile</div> </div></div></center>
There was a period of rest and recovery following Tephra’s minor destruction. Castile remembered seeing flames and smoke engulf the world before lava spewed and crawled across their battleground. Everything happened in a blink of an eye, but it’s all etched deeply into Castile’s memory nonetheless. One of those things – likely, a most prominent – was witnessing Sinner and Mary admit their disloyalty and betrayal. It was coming. He knew it would. A shout of dethronement was hurled at them, but Sinner expectedly refused.
Now, with his muscles mended and the lacerations scarred and puckered, he soars toward Sylva under the midday sun.
The challenge surpasses the reach of the deciduous trees, and Castile is piqued instantaneously. A plume of black smoke coils from his nostrils as a jagged grin stretches across his mouth. It was only a matter of time until the kings collided, the clash of titans. Lords of darkness and fire.
Castile quickly blinks to observe the world from a different perspective. When his eyes open, the trees blurring underneath look cold and so very lifeless. Small rodents and deer emit thermal signatures, but his abrupt descent doesn’t churn the air until he spots Sinner. It would be difficult to thread through the tree branches and touch down, so for simplicity, Castile shifts his body entirely into his draconic counterpart. With a downbeat of his wings, he climbs through the air only to turn and pivot at the peak of his ascension and begin a heated descent. A jet of flames shoots past his maw and licks a mass of trees, igniting their canopy and beyond only seconds before he barrels through. His scales protect him from the trees scraping against him as not all of them bend beneath his force and weight. Others crack and scream as they faint, sprawling across the forest floor before being ignited again.
The heat of summer supplements the dragon’s efforts. Everything is dry, catching on fire quickly – trees, shrubs, leaf beds scattered across the forest floor – and roaring in an angry blaze. Smoke pools around them, but still Castile sees Sinner’s thermal signature like a beacon in the night.
Amidst the fray, he expects Sinner to be moving and dodging the burning trees and shrubbery, which can provide some amount of distraction. Acting quickly – he has only been on the ground for a few heartbeats – Castile lunges forward in a feverish attempt to grab his opponent like a great white lurching toward the water’s surface after a seal. The power could stun him, dizzy him, but Castile’s primary goal is to latch down with predatory-sharp teeth on the left side of Sinner’s torso or hind leg. The length of his body and neck increase his reach and maneuverability if Sinner tries finding refuge behind any part of their immediate surroundings or lurching away. Simultaneously, Castile hopes to inflict damage and inhibit Sinner’s agility by puncturing the biceps femoris or anywhere in the lower abdomen due to the diameter of his open jaws. Ideally, a limp would cause a great hindrance even as adrenaline races through his body. It would slow down Sinner and lessen the strength of his strides and lunges, both offensively and defensively. Even if, with the diameter of his mouth, Castile was able to clamp down on the spine, he would be grateful to inhibit and weaken his opponent immediately into their battle. Anything to win, anything to force his submission.
Castile’s jaws snap shut on anything he can grab, but the moment he releases, he retracts and shifts back into a horse so that he may better protect himself with less surface area. Hardened scales still trace across his body and his eyes remain with slit pupils to rely on thermal reading as the smoke billows around them. His teeth remain jagged, but his claws recede and shift into chipped, worn hooves. Even his wings disappear without a trace, unnecessary with trees – both erect and falling – surrounding them. A low, primal noise escapes him as his body transitions from dragon to horse. With an intense stare, Castile watches his opponent while sparing occasional glances to their crumbling surroundings, stepping over scattered branches as needed.
</div> <div class="castgradient"></div> <img class="castimage" src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/3a/f6/0c/3af60ca3191f811e43ba97ce40851796.jpg"> <div class="castname">castile</div> </div></div></center>