Idea
The Pun Tyrant
[class=option]
background-color:white;
color:black;
padding:1%;
font-size:150%;
border:12px solid transparent;
border-image:url('https://wallpaper.wiki/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/wallpaper.wiki-Samsung-Wallpaper-Desktop-1080p-Images-PIC-WPB00681.jpg') 30 round;
text-align:center;
cursor:pointer;
height:100px;
[/class]
[class=optionphone]
background-color:white;
color:black;
padding:1%;
border:12px solid transparent;
border-image:url('https://wallpaper.wiki/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/wallpaper.wiki-Samsung-Wallpaper-Desktop-1080p-Images-PIC-WPB00681.jpg') 30 round;
text-align:center;
cursor:pointer;
[/class]
[class=radius]
border-radius:25px;
overflow:hidden;
width:30%;
display:inline-block;
[/class]
[class=Rewind]
[/class]
[class=Progress]
[/class]
[class=layer]
background-color:rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.75);
padding:1%;
width:90%;
margin:0 auto;
border:5px solid grey;
[/class]
[class=text]
border:6px solid grey;
padding:1%;
color:white;
background-color:rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.75);
[class=outter]
width:85%;
margin:0 auto;
[/class]
[class=gif]
overflow:hidden;
border-radius:50%;
width: 10%;
height:135px;
background-image:url('https://media1.giphy.com/media/b3EqpdyuAfwmA/source.gif');
background-size:100%;
[/class]
[class=1]
float:right;
border:5px solid grey;
[/class]
[class=2]
float:left;
border:5px solid grey;
[/class]
[class=3]
float:right;
border-bottom:5px dashed white;
border-left:5px dashed white;
[/class]
[class=4]
float:left;
border-bottom:5px dashed white;
border-right:5px dashed white;
[/class]
[class=image]
float:right;
width:29%;
padding:1%;
border:4px solid white;
display:inline-block;
[/class]
[class=imagephone]
margin:0 auto;
width:50%;
padding:1%;
border:4px solid white;
[/class]
[class=link]
display:inline-block;
color:lightblue;
[/class]
[class=o]
[/class]
[class=a]
[/class]
[class=b]
[/class]
[script class=o on=mouseenter] hide image hide imagephone show o [/script] [script class=a on=mouseenter] hide image hide imagephone show a [/script]
Tags: Kaerri Epiphany JayfeatherRaven sullen pinnasina thefinalgirl Psyche
[div class=outter][div class="gif 2"] [/div][div class="gif 1"] [/div]
[div class=layer][div class=text]December 30th, 09h52 AM
Pavlov Home
Red Herring Hood was not the beginning of this story. She was never the beginning of any story really, unless you could count someone's dreams as a story. Red Herring Hood was the figment of the imagination of one Ace Pavlov. She had every trait one could think of for such a being, starting right off with the obvious reference she alluded to. The cold slender fingers with sharp nails covered in white polish like chalk, twisted like a fork with the ends bent, and the rugged old woman's smile beneath the eyes shadowed by the blood-red hood had to be some kind of allusion to his mother, though like the faint traces of burnmarks, the simple, pure, white dress, woven in thick lines of transperant silk didn't really seem like it fit her. Right now the girl had long curly dark hair that descended from the hood and nearly covered her face, trickling large drops of water to the black grass on the floor (probably something to do with the drowning accident on the treatment facility he heard about on the news yesterday) as she advanced slowly but surely with the same menacing grin that hid a line of sharp teeth, like always, and though it felt half-frozen in fear, his body couldn't help trying to run from them. Those probably also had a meaning, something Freudian Alex would bet, if his consciousness was awake enough. People should be able to make bets while unconscious. The casino owners would love it. A large wolf, about thrice the size of red herring hood, emerged as if from the mist around them. Like a dog that had been dressed up by some exhibionist, the wolf wore a tie around the neck like a collar, and a rugged white shirt covered by a suit. The animal picked up Red Herring Hood by that very hood, then left with her, disappearing into the fog never to be seen again until the next dream. Maybe those casino people would love it so much, they wouldn't do that to their own son.
[div class="image o"][div class="image a" style="display:none"]
Ace Pavlov snapped out of it and continued to eat his toast. If you expected him to wake up on his bed, well, so did he. Fortunately for him, his little brother Alex was a couple of steps ahead. There were no plates nor glasses, nor anything else one could drop and break, just one long polished stone balcony so clean you could lick it, and a few napkins and two pillows with two napkins on top, so even with Ace's bad habit of falling asleep at the breakfast table, there wasn't really any danger. His gaze wandered around the kitchen, some 15 square meters of light-blue squares on the floor, and smaller dark-blue squares on the walls, partially hidden by all the usual appliances and closets. Ace's nose was drawn to the stove and the frying pan on top of it and the delicious scent of the fried egg that was once there, now dampening his toast through a bit of his drool.
Ace blinked. He noticed the toast was surprisingly lacking in taste. Without letting it drop, he chewed a bit on the bitten-off parts. Oh! His favorite jam was missing! Alex knew for a fact he loved that jam.
"Scho..." Ace grabbed the toast and chewed until he swallowed to release his mouth. "Did my little brother finally grow tired of preparing breakfast every morning?"
"We just don't have time today, Ace!" A little patch of white hair peaked out of the corner of the kitchen door, well, more like "the hole in the wall", since there was no door per se. "Who would be if I wasn't, anyway? If I left you in charge, we'd be having cereals every meal for the rest of our lives!"
"I'm sure mr.Beaumont would appreciate the business. Though I do miss having some real cereal." Ace stuffed the rest of the toast into his mouth and lept off the bench, nearly losing his balance afer landing due to its broken foot. He REALLY wanted to get that fixed. Maybe he could get a favor from mr.Acosta? The bench was made of metal, not wood, but the little spanish man was good at working with makeshifts. He could probably tie a couple of things with string or tape or something. Ace opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of milk which he chugged down in a coupe of gulps. Old him would have forgotten they were bottles now, not packages, and thrown it somewhere, where it would shatter and he and Alex would spend the rest of the morning picking up the chunks. New him knew better. He carefully placed the bottle next to the fridge. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of my arm, turned around to leave, and jumped in place startled by the [div class="link o"]petite figure in a shirt and tie, and grey pants held up by a pair of suspenders[/div]. The boy had their mother's thin eyebrows, and their father's whitish-grey hair, though in his case it was natural born, and not the natural process of the age of time. Which, Ace supposed, was also a natural-born thing for a human to do, now that he thought about it. His eyes nervously scoutted the pose with crossed arms and direct, silently judging stares of the boy that so innocently begged him to play together until not so long ago.
"Are you going to waste one of your new year's resolutions in 'I promise I'm going to put bottles of milk in the glass bin'?" Ah yes, Alex was so mature for his age, but he had these little quirks and things he believed in...it made Ace chuckle a little inside.
"It's not like they go anywhere but the junkyard anyway."
"Spare a moment for the people trying to recycle here, Ace! It's for the good of the planet!"
Ace's bend over his little brother and gave him a smirk.
"Maybe when you start calling me big bro again." Alex frowned.
"You act more like a little brother. A very little brother."
"..."
"Aren't you going to say I act more like a mother? Even I'm aware that's how I sound sometimes."
Ace walked past him and grabbed a coat. Yeah, Alex did act like that. Not sometimes. All the time really. It was at once a heart-warming and a really annoying thing. Aging was a natural-born thing, Ace reminded himself. And he hated that.
Outside, there were still some vestiges of the glass decorations, balls and globes containing electrical lights and held by strings tied to windows and roofs all the way downtown. Most people around the neighbourhood took their own spin to the spirit of the occasion, and the vestiges were still there as well: The Sheperd's home still smelled like pine tree and still had small dark green patches of leaf creating a random spotted pattern on the roof, Kazuma's still had the "leave stray presents here" sign next to the door, and though the letters had fainted quite a bit with the wind and the rain, one could still read a very cheerful 'M__ry C_R_STM_S_!' above miss Sila's door. Indeed in this cultural melting pot of a town there were all kinds of different people. On the other hand, when Ace looked at their own home, he couldn't help feeling it was a bit monotonous by comparison. It was by no means a bad place, better than two teenage boys living on their own could probably get normally. [div class="link a"]Two floors, windows turned to either side, even a yard.[/div] It was located right at the corner of the street, with the little stairs and the gate facing the intersection. And yet, they couldn't afford to put there any more than a few leftover green lamps. Ace was perceptive, and he had a good memory, he knew as much. He thought it'd be easy to drown in his studies. It still wasn't easy to get motivated for those. At home it was hard to relax unless he was doing something a little more...compelling. At school there were classes, and after those that merry band of the powers club causing a ruckus wherever they went. So perhaps it was time he found a better distraction.
He glanced at both sides, not that enough people used cars around there for that gesture to mean anything. Just an old habit. Still, it did give him a bit of time to think about where he wanted to go first for his new year's preparations.
[/div]
[/div][/div][div class="gif 2" style="position:relative;top:-70px;"] [/div][div class="gif 1" style="position:relative;top:-70px;"] [/div][/div]
Where should Ace go first?
[div class=radius][div class=option]Go Ask Mr.Acosta If He Needs Anything.
[/div][/div] [div class=radius][div class=option]Go Buy Some Firework Sticks
[/div][/div]
[div class=radius][div class=option]Go Buy Food
[/div][/div] [div class=radius][div class=option]Go Get Some Paper
[/div][/div]
[div class=outter][div class="gif 2" style="height:50px;width:15%;"] [/div][div class="gif 1" style="height:50px;width:15%;"] [/div]
[div class=layer][div class=text][div class="imagephone o"]
December 30th, 09h52 AM
Pavlov Home
Red Herring Hood was not the beginning of this story. She was never the beginning of any story really, unless you could count someone's dreams as a story. Red Herring Hood was the figment of the imagination of one Ace Pavlov. She had every trait one could think of for such a being, starting right off with the obvious reference she alluded to. The cold slender fingers with sharp nails covered in white polish like chalk, twisted like a fork with the ends bent, and the rugged old woman's smile beneath the eyes shadowed by the blood-red hood had to be some kind of allusion to his mother, though like the faint traces of burnmarks, the simple, pure, white dress, woven in thick lines of transperant silk didn't really seem like it fit her. Right now the girl had long curly dark hair that descended from the hood and nearly covered her face, trickling large drops of water to the black grass on the floor (probably something to do with the drowning accident on the treatment facility he heard about on the news yesterday) as she advanced slowly but surely with the same menacing grin that hid a line of sharp teeth, like always, and though it felt half-frozen in fear, his body couldn't help trying to run from them. Those probably also had a meaning, something Freudian Alex would bet, if his consciousness was awake enough. People should be able to make bets while unconscious. The casino owners would love it. A large wolf, about thrice the size of red herring hood, emerged as if from the mist around them. Like a dog that had been dressed up by some exhibionist, the wolf wore a tie around the neck like a collar, and a rugged white shirt covered by a suit. The animal picked up Red Herring Hood by that very hood, then left with her, disappearing into the fog never to be seen again until the next dream. Maybe those casino people would love it so much, they wouldn't do that to their own son.
. The boy had their mother's thin eyebrows, and their father's whitish-grey hair, though in his case it was natural born, and not the natural process of the age of time. Which, Ace supposed, was also a natural-born thing for a human to do, now that he thought about it. His eyes nervously scoutted the pose with crossed arms and direct, silently judging stares of the boy that so innocently begged him to play together until not so long ago.
Ace Pavlov snapped out of it and continued to eat his toast. If you expected him to wake up on his bed, well, so did he. Fortunately for him, his little brother Alex was a couple of steps ahead. There were no plates nor glasses, nor anything else one could drop and break, just one long polished stone balcony so clean you could lick it, and a few napkins and two pillows with two napkins on top, so even with Ace's bad habit of falling asleep at the breakfast table, there wasn't really any danger. His gaze wandered around the kitchen, some 15 square meters of light-blue squares on the floor, and smaller dark-blue squares on the walls, partially hidden by all the usual appliances and closets. Ace's nose was drawn to the stove and the frying pan on top of it and the delicious scent of the fried egg that was once there, now dampening his toast through a bit of his drool.
Ace blinked. He noticed the toast was surprisingly lacking in taste. Without letting it drop, he chewed a bit on the bitten-off parts. Oh! His favorite jam was missing! Alex knew for a fact he loved that jam.
"Scho..." Ace grabbed the toast and chewed until he swallowed to release his mouth. "Did my little brother finally grow tired of preparing breakfast every morning?"
"We just don't have time today, Ace!" A little patch of white hair peaked out of the corner of the kitchen door, well, more like "the hole in the wall", since there was no door per se. "Who would be if I wasn't, anyway? If I left you in charge, we'd be having cereals every meal for the rest of our lives!"
"I'm sure mr.Beaumont would appreciate the business. Though I do miss having some real cereal." Ace stuffed the rest of the toast into his mouth and lept off the bench, nearly losing his balance afer landing due to its broken foot. He REALLY wanted to get that fixed. Maybe he could get a favor from mr.Acosta? The bench was made of metal, not wood, but the little spanish man was good at working with makeshifts. He could probably tie a couple of things with string or tape or something. Ace opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of milk which he chugged down in a coupe of gulps. Old him would have forgotten they were bottles now, not packages, and thrown it somewhere, where it would shatter and he and Alex would spend the rest of the morning picking up the chunks. New him knew better. He carefully placed the bottle next to the fridge. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of my arm, turned around to leave, and jumped in place startled by the [div class="link o"]petite figure in a shirt and tie, and grey pants held up by a pair of suspenders
"Are you going to waste one of your new year's resolutions in 'I promise I'm going to put bottles of milk in the glass bin'?" Ah yes, Alex was so mature for his age, but he had these little quirks and things he believed in...it made Ace chuckle a little inside.
"It's not like they go anywhere but the junkyard anyway."
"Spare a moment for the people trying to recycle here, Ace! It's for the good of the planet!"
Ace's bend over his little brother and gave him a smirk.
"Maybe when you start calling me big bro again." Alex frowned.
"You act more like a little brother. A very little brother."
"..."
"Aren't you going to say I act more like a mother? Even I'm aware that's how I sound sometimes."
Ace walked past him and grabbed a coat. Yeah, Alex did act like that. Not sometimes. All the time really. It was at once a heart-warming and a really annoying thing. Aging was a natural-born thing, Ace reminded himself. And he hated that.
Outside, there were still some vestiges of the glass decorations, balls and globes containing electrical lights and held by strings tied to windows and roofs all the way downtown. Most people around the neighbourhood took their own spin to the spirit of the occasion, and the vestiges were still there as well: The Sheperd's home still smelled like pine tree and still had small dark green patches of leaf creating a random spotted pattern on the roof, Kazuma's still had the "leave stray presents here" sign next to the door, and though the letters had fainted quite a bit with the wind and the rain, one could still read a very cheerful 'M__ry C_R_STM_S_!' above miss Sila's door. Indeed in this cultural melting pot of a town there were all kinds of different people. On the other hand, when Ace looked at their own home, he couldn't help feeling it was a bit monotonous by comparison. It was by no means a bad place, better than two teenage boys living on their own could probably get normally. [div class="link a"]Two floors, windows turned to either side, even a yard.[/div] It was located right at the corner of the street, with the little stairs and the gate facing the intersection. And yet, they couldn't afford to put there any more than a few leftover green lamps. Ace was perceptive, and he had a good memory, he knew as much. He thought it'd be easy to drown in his studies. It still wasn't easy to get motivated for those. At home it was hard to relax unless he was doing something a little more...compelling. At school there were classes, and after those that merry band of the powers club causing a ruckus wherever they went. So perhaps it was time he found a better distraction.
He glanced at both sides, not that enough people used cars around there for that gesture to mean anything. Just an old habit. Still, it did give him a bit of time to think about where he wanted to go first for his new year's preparations.
[/div]
[/div][/div][div class="gif 2" style="position:relative;top:-30px;height:50px;width:15%"] [/div][div class="gif 1" style="position:relative;top:-30px;height:50px;width:15%"] [/div][/div]
Where should Ace go first?
[div class=radius][div class=optionphone]Go Ask Mr.Acosta If He Needs Anything.
[/div][/div] [div class=radius][div class=optionphone]Go Buy Some Firework Sticks
[/div][/div]
[div class=radius][div class=optionphone]Go Buy Food
[/div][/div] [div class=radius][div class=optionphone]Go Get Some Paper
[/div][/div]
[script class=o on=mouseenter] hide image hide imagephone show o [/script] [script class=a on=mouseenter] hide image hide imagephone show a [/script]
Tags: Kaerri Epiphany JayfeatherRaven sullen pinnasina thefinalgirl Psyche
Last edited: