& A B I R A T O

by a person who is angry. used in law to describe a decision or action that is detrimental to those it affects and was made based on hatred or anger, rather than on reason.  s e r c u l l e n

[luustfuls-blog]

                                      now i [ F E E L ] you, here with me.                                 but do demons [ S C A R E ] you, tiny lamb?                                                        I   .   II   .   III

[redemptior]

It’s that time of year again, and with more than 200 new followers since my LAST follow forever, I figured it’s time to spread the holiday cheer. So here’s the naughty list of just some of my favorite faces to see around the DA RP community!

The SQUAD (fellow cullen roleplayers you should check out and adore)

abirxto | lionofhonnleath | gladiusknight | commendure | commandercullywully

The BAES (some of my favorite roleplay partners / friends )

ambereyedamell | bloodiedamell | herherald | herorecipe | loyaltybringsitsownhell | rxghthand | valoroun | apostatrix | unwantedheir | prophetry | adhxwke | heraldofdoubt | withdrawment | enelyalavellan | wilyways

The MINERALS I CRAVE (some roleplayers i admire, but have not had the distinct pleasure of interacting with)

varriclever | dreadhowl | nightingalia | ofwalks | compatiors | ambassadorial | mxntilyet | hardiiing

[abirxto-blog]

this account is being moved to indefinite semi-hiatus until you can all learn to relax a little and stop sending me weird ass anons and making my day not-so-happy. if you'd like to contact me, please hover for my skype, or shoot me an ask for my other accts. 

[compassiisms]

abirxto started following

[compassiisms]

               Cole stood by the window in Cullen’s office ,                dagger in one hand , plum in the other. He               stood there peeling it carefully , while another                 plum sat waiting to be peeled as well. The                spirit was so caught up in getting it done , he             didn’t even notice the commander coming inside.

[abirxto-blog]

             he's a knack for appearing at the worst of times,              this 'ghost'. storms boil between brows, surging              forth beneath hooded eyes as the man climbs to              his office. the anger, potent, palpable, a sensation              prickling upon the forearm, is cut away by the              realization of someone standing within the room.              stopping short upon the threshold---- considering,              for a moment, the best manner with which to expel                               the younger from his domain. 

                           ❝ ----- cole. ❞

             a simple sort of affair, the word that seeps through              gaping rows of white and pink. not necessarily a                   question--- nor, even, an accusation. 

[abirxto-blog]

                             my, my simple ser, this ain’t gonna work                        mind my wicked  words and tipsy topsy slurs                            i can’t take this place, no i can’t  take this place,                            i just wanna go where i can get some space.

[defensorx-deactivated20150608]

"What? Is there something on my face?"  Besides the blood and bruises.

[abirxto-blog]

                           ❝ ———- nothing.  for once. merely... thinking. ❞

            of what, however,             is a mystery--- even                         to him. 

[abirxto-blog]

                           is he staring?                            -------- yes. yes                            he is. not really                            hiding it, either.

[abirxto-blog]

he suffers quietly, stoic.

          something breaks, within each word that's uttered. weakness cannot be          allowed in the heart----- must be snuffed out, consumed, compartmentalized.           the world runs on sorrow, true; on endless batches of it, men and women                           parading around with their hearts upon their sleeves. 

          he does not allow himself as such. it follows, thus, that things do not come           easy to the tongue. to have allowed suffering, produced it, continued it---                   it is only fair, then, that he should continue his own suffering. 

                                                  when the whip bites                                                   the back, he does not                                                   cry out. that much is his                                                   penance. that much is                                                          his price. 

[iamwardxn-blog]

          ❝ i have clung to  h o p e  for a long while now.           when you wake, perhaps i may be rewarded. ❞

              it is none his business; he will  be who cullen is in need of               during  the  worse  part  of  his  withdrawal. the  anchor, &                harbor all in one. the spell  weaved, the  dreams will come.               softer  to   him  they  will  appear,  unlike  the   t w i s t e d                 nightmares  he  is  familiar  with.  the  warden-commander               lingers  for  hours.  he  naps  in  the  far  corner. the calling               have  a   draining  effect  on  him,  a side-effect of perhaps               the  blood  potion he had dared to  drink  at   the warden’s                keep years ago. it  isn’t  until  leliana comes  that  he finally               removes  himself  from  the  wooden  chair and follows her               out in silence.

          the conversation lasted hours. two old friends in each  others           company. it  was  in  this  disguise  of  ser nolan did he finally           meet the inquisitor, brief as it had been. their walk about, and           tour of  {      skyhold      }  brought  them  back  to the door of           the commander’s quarters where the warden rested  his back           against stone. finally, it was then that the conversation turned           to himself, and his appearance in the keep. he  hadn’t  a need           to fear of ears overhearing and he believed the commander to           still be sound asleep even those the sun had  started its willful           travel behind the mountain peaks  and  the  starlight started to           appear overhead. 

                           ❛ after all this time, you come because cullen is ill? ❜ 

           ❛ we both are. his is easily remedied. there are things            about the  circle i  haven’t  shared. the commander is            one of them. a  flame  that  still  burns though it might            never be fed.               i had to be here for him. ❜ 

                                     ❛ is it because of what happened in the circle? ❜

                a soft sigh through parted lips. was it? partly  perhaps but it                 stemmed from the basic human need for connection. cullen                 was there, had been there. helped shape the ideal of mages                 and their relationship with templars        how they should be.                 beyond  the  warden’s  harboring  of infatuation for the man.                 the former  templar  was  a  fixed  point  for him, one that he                 cherished even if the infatuation wasn’t returned. at most he                 was a sacred love, at best he was a friend worth a detour in                 his own selfish plans.

                ❛ it’s because he’s my templar, i guess you could say.                 weird as it sounds in this age where mages and them                 are enemies. he will never  be  that. he is something a                 lot more tangible. ❜

[abirxto-blog]

            it starts as a great beating in the chest. flies up,              high, higher still, a resolute noise to wash about              the mind. a heartbeat, the mind supplies, fragile              thing, as butterfly wings. pulsing, streaming of              gore and loss; that is the reality of his life. the              realization comes to him, dressed in simple              garments, lips asunder for wanting, eyes jewels              to behold. -----beautiful! that is the creature              that sits by his side, within his dreams, whispers              of forgotten pasts come to life. 

                                                                    a rocking start----- the thought                                                                      of something buried long since                                                                      stirring within him, in tandem to                                                                      the surge of want, the great                                                                      abomination of need. thought                                                                     greets him unwillingly, dredged                                                                      from the depths of nothingness                                                                      and delivered unto the wisps of night. 

            images of careful creation whisper to him, the lilting              voice remembered well, dreamed of in fleeting within              the fever pitch of the night; the haze is no longer there,              granting him reprieve. and the idea of it, to have so              selfishly pretended to have had him by his side, once              more! a great bulbous swallow, ignoring all but the              memory, protecting it, ensuring it safe travels upon the              roads of the mind.

                                               it would not be corrupted as had their time                                                 in kinloch. would not fall prey to the leering                                                 demon, sharpness personified, an itch that                                                 could not be scratched. he thinks of burning                                                 bodies, contorting under rays too bright to be                                                 the sun's, and buries himself in a prayer. 

            but something is there, when he surfaces; fleeting words              that catch at the edge of recognition and drift away again,              femininity and masculinity masked in a single entity that              whispered to the deaf ear. a tilt of the head, body's single              willful movement, considering door and participants beyond. 

mine. there was little to be said of personal effects. books,  if only recently received---- memories, turned brutal under  the heat of inspection, years to turn to dust in the touched  fraying edges there. what was his? was it the mage? was  anything his own? the idea of belonging... it sits empty, silly,  a luxurious concept. something to be harbored but never  allowed, prophesied but never come to fruition. parting lips,  before he can halt, sensation returned beyond the thought of blinding blue, consuming.

                                                                   it terrified him, to want---- to                                                                     want lyrium, to want embrace,                                                                      to want the touch of death                                                                      upon the brow. to want him. 

                           ❝ ----------- daylen! ❞

[redemptior]

He recognizes that hitch, that strange hitch in the man’s voice, as his own, and his face, young and innocent and confused, contorts into something curious, before relaxing again at the realization.

                             "This      must be a dream!”

Of course such things are a rarity in his mind, which lays dormant in slumber, slow and quiet, never waking never wandering never exploring its own capacity. Dreamless nights go by quickly, and he surely won’t remember this in the morning, for he never does.

                            "Yes, this is a dream. And    so then                               who are you? Some    projection of my                               goals? A strange        manifestation of                               who I am?”

Another flash of blue, like the pulsing of a heart it presses against them both. Cullen feels a strange sort of pressure, its a heavy pain in his chest that he does not recognize. It felt like.. Longing, but physical, like if the want for love were transformed into a matter of the flesh rather than a matter of the heart, clawing and thirsty and painful. He doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t understand any of this or why it is presenting itself to him in what he assumes is a dream, but with a groan he soldiers on.

                              “What.. Why are you here, then?

[abirxto-blog]

             something akin to a slap to the face; young words that               bite as cold to the flesh. he does not raise his voice, for               all that he might be eager to----- rarely did anger               resolve these waking nightmares. resolute sigh, body's               energy escaping by way of eclipsing sigh. it's as lilting               tunes to the body; the prayer for resolution, absolution,               the melting of the chains and breaking of the mind. but               it leaves little for him but empty nights and emptier promises.

                           ❝ at least we're not the dumbest templar                                      to have ever graced thedas. ❞

                                                 he knows the sensations that break the                                                   world in two; allows them lay dormant in                                                   the chest 'till all at once they surge forth,                                                   hungry and lapping at the edges of the                                                   mind. it might all but disappear for when                                                   it wishes---- but sudden, bursting forth,                                                   geysers, hot and crushing with the weight                                                   of the need, it appears. it rends the mind                                                   to emptiness, caved in and cluttered, a                                                   pulsing mass that beats in tandem to the                                                   heart, but deeper, louder. 

                           ❝ pray yourself wise enough to never                                        wish to be someone as such! ❞

             sharp rebuttal, the convulsions of the heart and body straying               from pained to angered, reeling and sinking as teeth to the               flesh. the question belays all other thoughts, corrupting it with               its damned innocence. thoughts of wayward days do not               remain for long---- he considers, weighing options, mental               tabulations offending in their conclusion. there is little he can               offer, by way of promising of the future, nor of changing his               own fate. that much seems wrong, bleeding out blue beneath               the eyes. advice, the mind supplies, crooning amid the carnage. 

                           ❝ because the world is cruel, and                                 you are young. a small suggestion;                                 perhaps ask questions more exemplary                                 of an enterprising young man, that                                 knows a situation to be of import. ❞

[abirxto-blog]

I'm liking that shade of lipstick on you. betting it'd look pretty good smeared on my--

              he’s only just gotten the false eyelashes off, fighting off glue               and the urge to gouge his eyes out with these acrylics——-               christ, but they were so pretty. he’d really have to save up               for another trip to that salon. a careful purse of the lips, gaze               cast wide off the shoulder at the unfortunate intrusion into                                                                his post-performance strip. 

                           ❝ ———- your dick, you mean? ❞

              slight slur to the voice, fingers having found their way to wind               over smooth glassware, dragging a sip of liquid tumbling past               pearly rows. the glass remains there, blocking meticulously               rounded lips, the gentle smear of his angled left cheek already               rising in sharp contrast within the mirror. unfortunate, yes——               that he’d have to come home twenty minutes earlier than               expected. now he’d have to wait  to get his hands on dan.               ah, but the travesty! pursing lips, teeth clinching down               upon glass’s edge, speculative look turned predatory beneath 

                           ❝ tell you what, big boy—— climb in                                the shower with me, and we’ll see                               just how pretty you’d look covered                                         in smeared makeup. ❞

[unwantedheir]

     ”such a child.”

        chocolate orbs circle in their sockets         as he reaches down, quick to grab         the discarded blankets that once lay         forgotten on their wooden flooring.         with a sharp toss, he throws the cotton over the          grumpy man in question.      ”if you were so cold, you      should’ve gotten them yourself.      a little movement wouldn’t have      woken me.”

[abirxto-blog]

                           ❝ aren't i technically the cranky old man? ❞

            the cloth falls heavy across the face, muffling his last salacious comment             to the eerie tune of change my diapers, why don't you, my dear?---- he's             been getting better at that joke thing, yes, thank you for noticing. he                 reemerges with a crooked grin, flashing a look toward the other.

                           ❝ and move from your side? perish                                  the thought.  no, see, it was much                                 more easy to continue sleeping and                                 complain once you'd awakened. ❞

[memesforu-blog]

Send "How did you get that?" for your muse noticing a fresh bruise under my muse's eye.

[unwantedheir]

     ”oh stop pouting.  if thats worst i’ve done,      then i should think you’re quite lucky.  i am a      catch, after all.”

[abirxto-blog]

                           ❝ i should think myself allowed to pout all i                                 damn well want, with toes as cold as these.                                 i am indeed quite lucky to have caught one                                 such as yourself---- i just wish i'd caught you                      after you learned to share the blankets. ❞

[unwantedheir]

     ” as you wish. “         clanking swords merge and push away like         a magnet of similar build, a spectacle of glittering         static flashing between the two as they dance         around each other.  a smile, though coy, kisses          the wardens lips as he curls and steps around the         commander.

[abirxto-blog]

                    the gentle sensation of breath past the lips. it's easy                     enough to press blade to blade & repel an attack,                     another still to use the momentum to continue through,                     pressing in sharp, quick. tilt of the body, feet shifting                     their position & head swiveling, gaze always intersecting                     with that of the warden's. a sudden gust of laughter, up                     through the throat & bubbling out on its way, cutting as                                                   the sword ought. 

[breakingtevinterchains-blog-blog]

             ❝ why yes, countless times actually after slaying the dragon.                 it really helps release tension after a fight. oh you’ve only                 heard about my back massages? that’s hard to believe                 since usually those massages lead to much better and more                 intimate things.  ❞           that’s what he needed to do; to distract. he needed cullen           and his mind to not be on the game, he needed that window           of opportunity. slowly, his fingers pressed against a piece, and           delicately brought it up to think about where he was going           to put it. he brought the piece up to his lips and pressed it           against them in concentrated thought. soon, he placed the piece           back down on the board with a confident smirk upon his lips.                               ❝ check. now i wonder what it would                               be like to have an ex templar as a servant, hm. ❞

[abirxto-blog]

                           ❝ is that so? perhaps you ought                                 teach me how, undue aftermaths                                 or no. seems an invaluable trick                                 to have hidden down one's sleeves. ❞

            the game's been set, another layer to be had; he's played enough             rounds with dorian to know how this works, the final stage. that was             all the mage truly surmounted to, at the end of the day---- distractions             and illusions, like a bird that puffed itself up in defense. thoughts             skitter across his face, technicolor brilliance as he smiles, again,             sure like he so rarely was. a simple twitch of the finger, bringing             a piece to rest between his king and the offending piece.                            sacrifice------ that was easy enough.

                           ❝ now you're just getting desperate.                                 certainly satisfying in some way, no?                                 i wonder if your back rubs are as                                 good as your ability to mouth off. ❞

[unwantedheir]

abirxto liked for a starter

– ––♘       ❝ –where did the comforter go?      i didn’t kick it off the both of us       again, did i? ❞

[abirxto-blog]

                           ❝ how kind of you to notice,                                 dearest.  you had, in fact,                                 kicked it away some time                                 ago. but i'm quite fine without,                                 thank you for asking, yes. ❞