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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.
He paused at the mention of another name. Dip..?
Was Dip trying to cover her past like Astraea? But Azure had moved on, gave her name, and seemed to try and excuse herself, and Attikias could feel himself puffing up with self-righteous emotions.
He gave a soft laugh with nervous undertones.
//ALL TEXT GOES HERE//
"When I speak."
When I think.
//ALL TEXT GOES HERE//
"When I speak."
When I think.
<center><div style="width:460px; text-align: justify; padding-top: 345px; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; border:solid 2pt #6E6A75; color: #ffffff; font-size: 12px; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; background-color: #6E6A75; background-image: url('https://i.imgur.com/8fmUy7q.png'); background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 35px">
//ALL TEXT GOES HERE//
<SPAN STYLE="text-shadow: 0px 0px 8px #827eba;color:#A9A6D7;"><b>"When I speak."</b></SPAN>
<SPAN STYLE="text-shadow: 0px 0px 8px #726d66;color:#FEF9E1;"><i>When I think.</i></SPAN>
</div></center>not the best but @temperantia
He paused at the mention of another name. Dip..?
Was Dip trying to cover her past like Astraea? But Azure had moved on, gave her name, and seemed to try and excuse herself, and Attikias could feel himself puffing up with self-righteous emotions.
He gave a soft laugh with nervous undertones.
Asimona had, in fact, heard the call and had responded back with an ear-shattering roar of her own before taking off from her nest in Pisces. She hadn't seen her children in a while and even if it meant having to cope with the heat in Monoceros, she would be happy to see the whole family again. And Dread, as well - their opposing habitats didn't make meetings a very frequent occasion.
She soared over the winds, letting them hold her high on the air before folding her wings in a bit, dropping down as Dread's den came into sight - not that she needed sight, his roaring was loud enough to be heard from the entrance to the caves. A few feet off the ground she folded her wings in and reached forward, catching herself in her fall with a booming thud. She lifted her head.
By the caves, this room was sweltering. In the air was bad enough but now that the winds weren't cooling off her skin, she was beginning to overheat. She immediately began cooling the air around her body until she was at least not dying, eyeing the food in front of Dread.
caught between smoked rum and cornflower.
the backdoor – it is the idea of color.
Cloudscapes evaporate like love songs
across lost islands, each a small bit coin of thought.
clams in the half shell, a lemon rosemary tart.
I live in the day and the day lives past me.
If I could draw a map of the hours, a long
horizon would travel on indefinitely ~ a green, backlit thread.
The
and whipped cream, a sketchbook and flour-dusted jeans.
It doesn’t care if my father is dead,
or that I live by myself with his Masonic watch.
I sew time with my mother’s button jar.
I’ve improvised my life ~ let the
travel from this sphere into the next and expunge
the leftover sadness of the hemispheres, to move beyond
the beyond which is here, present, alive in this hyacinth room;
time leaps over itself, after and out of the tangled past
over shadows of weather falling across a back window~
to forgive one another; to try once more to live it right.
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<p>
Text here. <spk>"Speaking here."</spk> Text here. <thk>'Thinking here.'</thk>
</p>
</div>@Elias
Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.
But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.
Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.
Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.