This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.
  • [fancypost bgcolor=#585755; border: 2px solid #7a7875; background-image:url('http://i42.photobucket.com/albums/e309/breezeyboop123/heather_zpsz0n4lfgm.jpg'); background-repeat: no-repeat; height: 500px; width: 470px;]
    [fancypost bgcolor=#7a7875; border: 0px; opacity: 0.7; margin-top: 260px; width: 440px; height: 220px; overflow: auto; font-size: 8pt; color: #201f1e; text-align: justify;]Heather had a lot of energy - negative energy, the kind that grew out of rage and made it so that she couldn't sleep. The serval had been spending her nights since Juno's appearance in an old shed on the edge of the city, with a makeshift nest made out of old blankets for warmth. Being in the same room as Primalpaw was not an optimal situation for her lately, but it didn't seem so great to be alone either. Alone with her anger.


    So she had begun to destroy with beauty. Tearing images into thick branches that had been stripped of bark, scratching rough pictures into soft wooden planks that had become easy to obliterate in the years since their creation. Whittling of a more violent sort, mostly images of food or things she saw around the city, but with a strange edge to them. At the moment, she was attacking one wooden plank image to a string to hang in the shed, an image of a sheep that she had seen on an old Twoleg poster in one of the abandoned shops.
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  • [justify][font=georgia]Lucy was not an artist, nope, never. She could barely draw a circle without it looking like an egg. Walking over to where she saw the serval Lucy let curiosity get the best of her and the large canine peaked over her shoulder to see the wooden image, it was pretty good, actually. The ex-nurse stepped back, hoping Heather didn't notice her presence (which was highly unlikely), she stepped to the side. "Watch'a doin'."

  • [fancypost bgcolor=#585755; border: 2px solid #7a7875; background-image:url('http://i42.photobucket.com/albums/e309/breezeyboop123/heather_zpsz0n4lfgm.jpg'); background-repeat: no-repeat; height: 500px; width: 470px;]
    [fancypost bgcolor=#7a7875; border: 0px; opacity: 0.7; margin-top: 260px; width: 440px; height: 220px; overflow: auto; font-size: 8pt; color: #201f1e; text-align: justify;]"Hanging a sheep." Perhaps that was not quite accurate, but it technically represented what she was doing at the moment. Scrabbling for a piece of twine that she couldn't quite see, Heather took a few seconds before she finally grabbed the string and put it through the rough hole she'd jabbed in the plank. Now the sheep was hanging awkwardly to one side, considering that the hole was not exactly in the center, but whatever. She was a bit of a sideways creature. Turning and waving her tail at the work, Heather shrugged at Lucy. "I've been doing some stuff lately. Trying to get over some issues."
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  • [fancypost bgcolor=lightgreen; border: double #A4A4A4 5px; border-top: solid SeaGreen 2px; border-bottom: solid SeaGreen 2px; width: 400px; height: 320px; margin-top: 100px;][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: double SeaGreen 3px; border-radius: 200px; background: url(http://38.media.tumblr.com/412…ine_njc5b0YmQL1qd2i8e.gif); background-size: 140%; background-position: center; width: 140px; height: 160px; margin-top: -100px;][fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14pt; color: DarkOliveGreen; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px #585858; width: 200px; margin-left: -45px; margin-top: 70px;]I guess you're lucky
    that it's dark now[/fancypost][/fancypost]


    [fancypost bgcolor=lightgreen; border: none; border-top: solid SeaGreen 2px; border-bottom: solid SeaGreen 2px; width: 410px; height: 150px; padding: 10px; overflow: hidden; margin-left: -15px;][fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 410px; height: 150px; padding: 0px; padding-right: 27px; overflow: auto][fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 410px; min-height: 150px; padding: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: black; font-family: verdana; text-transform: lowercase;]
    "FLOOFF!" Jimvia burst into the room, their eyes shining. "We like floof. Both of us." eh, maybe they'd had some LSD or something druggy like that. But right now, drugs or not, Jimvia was oohing and ahhing over the painting.
    [/fancypost][/fancypost][/fancypost]
    [fancypost bgcolor= ; border: none; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 32pt; color: darkgreen; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px #585858; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: -65px; margin-bottom: 5px;]OLIVIA TENEBRIS[/fancypost]
    [align=center][size=5pt]TEMPLATE ©BOKEH | BEWARE OF HIDDEN SCROLLIE[/size]

  • [justify][font=georgia]Nodded at her vague answer, Lucy looked up to wear the "sheep" was hanging. It kind of bothered her that is was a bit off to the side, she twitched before jumping as Jimvia burst in. She clenched her teeth a bit. "Well, I suppose doing art is a great way to get your mind off things, sleep is, too."Lucy said, ignoring the feline as she focused on keeping the conversation going.

  • [fancypost bgcolor=#585755; border: 2px solid #7a7875; background-image:url('http://i42.photobucket.com/albums/e309/breezeyboop123/heather_zpsz0n4lfgm.jpg'); background-repeat: no-repeat; height: 500px; width: 470px;]
    [fancypost bgcolor=#7a7875; border: 0px; opacity: 0.7; margin-top: 260px; width: 440px; height: 220px; overflow: auto; font-size: 8pt; color: #201f1e; text-align: justify;]Heather jumped slightly as Jimvia entered the room. It had been so quiet a moment ago, just a few words in a darkened cabin with wooden art hanging around them. "I think you need to detox," the serval muttered, turning her head back to Lucy and shrugging. "Sleep requires being alone with one's thoughts. If you think about sleep, it will never come, but if you think about art and only art? It appears. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts right now."
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