soul aflame.

heart of steel. 

[anguis-novum]

@killrotten​

   She is having a nightmare -- she’s certain of it -- though this one seems worse than anything her mind’s eye had conjured before. A sickeningly sweet scent, more powerful and far more lurid than the cloying smell of rotting books, seems to grab her by the face and forcefully invade every pore. She moves through the hellscape with her lips drawn back -- distaste dripping from her bent, angular form.

   And yet, it feels almost familiar... 

   It brings to mind dreamscapes traveled as a young girl, back when her mind was garish and free, back when she was an unschooled mage, flirting each night with dangers of another world.

   Yes, this was like those darker corners of The Fade. She almost cannot believe she’s found herself back there once again -- thought those days were gone once she’d stopped shivering in her cheap boots at the dark. Once she’d grown...

   At least those noxious realms had been occupied by familiarities. No matter how baffling her surroundings, The Fade always managed to mimic life in its own twisted way. This...was utterly foreign. 

   Calpernia listens to a warped song on the air, squinting against strange too-bright orbs that make her ears ring. With an exasperated huff, she sits -- right there in the grass -- and waits. Whatever demon makes this its home will surely notice her in due time, and, of course, she will be ready for it...

[seealandraw]

inspired by cowghoul’s drawing here. i apologize i have been thinking of calpernia in those shorts since i saw it please forgive me.

[goodscore-blog]

kurgy:

self care is staying alive out of spite

[martyriium-archive-blog]

Wrathful and Sullen

[anguis-novum]

martyriium:

“Yes, and this chantry crumbles. And when they try to rebuild it, I will be there to have a say in it, as well. What’s the Chantry without templars?” One of the reasons why they had faced Corypheus so well: the only force in Thedas that could stand up to demons, mages and abominations. While planing his coups, Corypheus had assumed Samson would be there, keeping the templars on a short leash and out of his venatori’s way. The tides of fate were fickle. Samson glanced at the food in front of him, and found his stomach churning at the mere thought of eating something now. Was it because of his generally detoriating state, or because of her presence? Damn, like a young, crushing choir boy again. Still, her words drew a snort from him. Of course, so dramatic. Naturally, he had no doubt she would gladly die for her beliefs and ideals - if necessary. 

“You are the enemy, and they will call you misguided, desperate, foolish - so much rage in such a small person, so much power in someone so young, so much destruction because you decided to step up. What are people supposed to think? But… do not throw such words around lightly. You, a Martyr? The difference between the hero and the martyr is that the hero gets to live to see the end of the story. Here you are, and your story’s not over yet. ”

   He wasn’t a fool -- though she threw the word around liberally -- he knew he could modify from within, worm his way into the diseased heart of this mess and use his natural prowess to plant the seed of change . Smart, determined, capable, despite his surly demeanor, his perishing body ...

   They’re somewhat alike. More than she’d given thought to.

   Calpernia stares straight ahead as Samson speaks, boring holes into the wooden chair at the opposite end of the table. Her wrists lay flat on the polished oak, fingers flexing, gripping each other. Excess energy like heat emanating from her very being. She tucks her lip in, bites it.

   She doesn’t like words such as ‘young’ and ‘small’. She thinks them excuses, resents that people look at her and see not a force of nature but someone young...someone small... And yet, on his lips, those same words raise the beginnings of a tempest in her heart. She breathes in; she has made her impression upon her former enemies -- the exact impression she’d wanted. He confirms it.

   Then, an exhale.

   “I am prepared to die before the end if I must -- so long as the final chapter is written how I intend it.” The mage turns to look at him. He’s trying to get her to live. He’s trying hard. Can’t he see that her convictions are everything? More important than her own life? Than his... ?

   Her shoulders slump the slightest bit. “Though I’ve a feeling you would write a kinder story, if you had your way. You need not be concerned for me, General.” And yet, and yet, his brittle encouragements are a taste of comfort she’s not sure she can fully grasp. What an odd feeling -- perhaps she is tired. She closes a fist around her fork and glances with reproach at her untouched food, at his. 

   “I dislike wasting food, but ... You can’t stomach this either, I take it.” Finally, a grin, a huff of a laugh. 

[anguis-novum]

tagged by @killrotten​ !

     BOLD any which apply to your muse! remember to REPOST! feel free to add to the list!

red // orange // yellow // green // blue // violet // pink // black // white // beige // fire // ice // water // air // earth // claws // fangs // wings // gold // diamonds // grass // leaves // trees // roses // metal // iron // rust // rain // snow // lace // leather // silk // velvet // denim // cotton // sun // moon // stars // blood // dirt // mud // silver // steel // sugar // salt // pepper // lavender // glass // wood // paper // wool // fur // smoke // ash // cigarettes // cigars // candy // bubbles // ocean // city scape // bruises // scars // wind // spices // light // dark // paint //lingerie // charcoal // wine // phone // hard liquor // sweat // tears // dust // lips // smiles // bare feet // hats // canine // feline // coffee // tea // books // photos // sketches // analog // digital // clockwork // scratches // petals // thorns // hay // glitter // heat // cold // steam // frost // dewdrops // candle // sword // dagger // arrow // staff // hammer // axe // shield // spikes // sand // rocks // roots // feathers // pearls // rubies // sapphires // emeralds // amethyst // curves // herbs // waves // lightning // sunlight // moonlight // rainbow // money // clay // stone // brick // lions // wolves // ravens // birds // eyes // hands // flowers // angels // heaven // holiness // hell // medicine // poison // needles // sharp objects // guns // mechs // dragons // pastels // dreams // nightmares // poetry // video games // hacking //neon // distorted images // spiders // insects // deep water // elysium // graveyards // death// resurrection // nature // churches // priests // crosses // sacrifice // skulls // chains // royalty // knight // pawn // nymphs // strings // instruments // music // ambiance // revolution // dance // symphony // requiem

tagging: @sparkingred @knightbled @a-bbadon @novabursts

[anguis-novum]

|| i’m dyin to throw my muse around again. like for a starter y’all !

[forcewith]

ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY SENTENCE MEME

possible spoilers.

‘ whatever i do, i do it to protect you. ‘

‘ you’re confusing peace with terror. ‘

‘ have to start somewhere. ‘

‘ you will never win. ‘

‘ come. we have a long ride ahead of us. ‘

‘ is that ___ ? he/she/they look a little different than i imagined.’

‘ what part of ‘urgent message’ do you guys not understand ? ‘

‘ you want to get out of here ? ‘

‘ congratulations. you are being rescued. ‘

‘ i like to think he/she’s/they’re dead. it makes things easier. ‘

‘ i’ve never had the luxury of political opinions. ‘

‘ what we need is someone who can get us through the door without being killed. ‘

‘ that is a bad idea. i think so, and so does ___. ‘

‘ you find him/her/them, you kill him/her/them. then and there. ‘

‘ why does he/she/they get a ___ and i don’t ? ‘

‘ i find that answer vague and unconvincing. ‘

‘ trust goes both ways. ‘

‘ i will not fail. ‘

‘ yes, i’m speaking to you. ‘

‘ for that answer, you must pay. ‘

‘ we’re not here to make friends. ‘

‘ tell me you have a back-up plan. ‘

‘ there are a lot of explosions for two people blending in. ‘

‘ quiet ! ‘

‘ and there’s a fresh one if you mouth off again. ‘

‘ let them pass in peace. ‘

‘ is your foot alright ? ‘

‘ you almost shot me ! ‘

‘ there is more than one sort of prison, ___. i sense you carry yours wherever you go. ‘

‘ not a day goes by where i don’t think of you. ‘

‘ did they send you – ? did you come here to kill me ? ‘

‘ all it’s ever brought me is pain. ‘

‘ i will run no longer, but you must save yourself. ‘

‘ it’s beautiful. ‘

‘ i’m not very optimistic about our odds. ‘

‘ i believe i owe you an apology, ___. your work exceeds all expectations. ‘

‘ we stand here amidst my achievement, not yours ! ‘

‘ does he/she/they look like a killer ? ‘

‘i don’t need luck, i have you. ‘

‘ i have so much to tell you. ‘

‘ you lied to me. ‘

‘ you’re in shock. ‘

‘ you’re in shock, and looking for someplace to put it. i’ve seen it before.’

‘ i had every chance to pull the trigger. but did i ? ‘

‘ i had orders. orders that i disobeyed. but you wouldn’t understand that. ‘

‘ we don’t all have the luxury of deciding when we want to care about something. ‘

‘ you’re not the only one who lost everything. some of us just decided to do something about it. ‘

‘ be careful not to choke on your aspirations, ___. ‘

‘ what chance do we have ? the question is, what choice ? ‘

‘ the time to fight is now. ‘

‘ every time i walked away from something i wanted to forget, i told myself it was for a cause i believed in. ‘

‘ i couldn’t face myself if i gave up now. ‘

‘ ___, i’ll be there for you. ‘

‘ ___ said i had to. ‘

‘ not used to people sticking around when things go bad. ‘

‘ welcome home. ‘

‘ one fighter with a sharp stick and nothing left to lose can take the day. ‘

‘ make ten men feel like a hundred. ‘

‘ good luck, little sister/brother. ‘

‘ i’ve got a bad feeling about this – ‘

‘ light it up. ‘

‘ why does nobody ever tell me anything, ___ ? ‘

‘ here. you wanted one, right ? ‘

‘ your behavior, ___, is continually unexpected. ‘

‘ ___ ! come back ! please ! ‘

‘ ___, don’t go. don’t go. i’m here. i’m here. ‘

‘ it’s okay. it’s okay. ‘

‘ this is for you, ___. ‘

‘ do you think anybody’s listening ? ‘

‘ you may fire when ready. ‘

‘ ___ would have been proud of you. ‘

[anguis-novum]

|| you will never fuckening guess who is back from the dead??? it’s ya girl

i really missed calpernia, and i’m probably going to affiliate her with a small mfrp run by friends of mine, but...lord...i sure do remember following a lot of very talented and awesome indie folks :3c

so, hi again! how are all y’all? want to play? ✌️🔥

[anguis-novum]

|| i’m so sorry everyone, but it’s very likely that i will be removing Hiyoko and Calpernia from citta...

this is a wonderful community and everyone i’ve met has been so friendly and kind, but the pace and sheer scale of citta is a little much for me :( i will likely turn Cal into a semi-active indie blog (Hiyoko might go the same route, but that remains to be seen)

i’m gonna think about this a little more, but i’m 90% sure i’ll be going. it makes me kinda sad... i hope i can still chat and possibly rp with the friends i’ve made at some point. thank you guys <3

[martyriium-archive-blog]

Wrathful and Sullen

[martyriium-archive-blog]

Most women could not wear such a face. Eyebrows furrowed together, a frown on their forehead, their face full of… It did not matter. On her, distaste looked as charming as any smile. No, he had to stop - was he looking at her strange? Was he maybe smiling? Did his eyes give him away? A deep frown settled on his face as well now, as if irritated by her mere presence. It did not change the fact that he listened very attentively, and the alertness of his eyes greatly mismatched the sour expression on his face. Before he had time to say anything, she already complained about the guards - it was true, and he was torn between the need to be alone with her and the terror of being alone with her. What would he say if they were unsupervised, would he stumble and slip? Maker damn it. “Leave us alone. Dismiss.” Was he being considerate of her, or did he want to invite himself to be foolish?  Still, the soldiers left them, and now they were alone. “The Chantry I loved so much that I joined Corypheus without second thought at the chance to end it?” Calpernia should know him better than this. His dreams did not change - seeing it all in ashes. The chantry and the hate and oppression that came from it. Maybe they would not cause the havoc he wished for, but he would have a say in the way Thedas would be shaped. The order was his, and whoever would be the new Divine would have to work with him. 

“The Inquisition is first and foremost here because of the breach, because of Corypheus, because of the Venatori. What will happen afterwards, I cannot tell. But… I think you impressed the Inquisitor. Maybe she will listen to you…. and help you when all of this is over. Josephine can explain you better why we are sitting on our hands here. Diplomatic shit.”

[anguis-novum]

   She leans back in her seat, now that many eyes are not at the back of her head. With the guards leaves a bit of the heavy tension in the room, and Calpernia is privately glad to see Samson’s candid -- though utterly baffling -- facial expressions. At least he’s not putting on a show. Rather, at least his calculated show is crumbling apart...

   “I misspoke.” She states, crossing her arms over her chest. “It is not your Chantry, but it is the Inquisition’s Chantry. And you cannot tell me that even the most liberal-minded amongst you lot has not harbored some ill-will toward my people... Forgive me, I find the whole thing rather hard to believe.”

   But she listens, with widened eyes that betray her tightly crossed arms and rigid fingers. She is all angles, this scrawny girl -- it’s almost hard to believe that the heart of a diehard idealist beats beneath her small breasts. It beats harder the more Samson speaks.

   So, she made an impression. So, she’s worth listening to. It’s all hypothetical, but when have hypotheticals ever stopped Calpernia?

   The mage grins slight at ‘diplomatic shit’. “I’d best speak with her then. Did you know, she seems to think me some sort of folk hero?” She scoffs, almost to herself.

   “No, not hero. Martyr, maybe. It grates upon my nerves, how they look at me, sometimes...”

[thelyriumlion]

“Samson, behave. If you dont i will put you in the other room.”

@redsongredpain

[redsongredpain-deactivated20190]

“Tit.”

[anguis-novum]

Tagged by: @twicebound​ <3

The rules are simple! Post ten characters you’d like to roleplay as, then tag ten people to do the same ( if you can’t think of ten characters, just write down however many you can and tag the same amount of people ). Aside from that, please REPOST instead of reblogging.

Miles Edgeworth - Ace Attorney series 

Franziska von Karma - Ace Attorney series

Fenris - Dragon Age 2

Marian Hawke - Dragon Age 2

Nami - One Piece

Sakuya Le Bel Shirogane - Hatoful Boyfriend

Mondo Oowanda - Dangan Ronpa

Dana Scully - X-Files

Link - The Legend of Zelda

Tagging: Whoever wants to! Go wild!!

[thecopperkidd]

Heey, your splash frostback mountain is absolutely hilarious! Any chance you might do a version for Team Corypheus? c:

Cory is too tall for the Splash Frostback Mountain ride and Samson has already puked all over the merry-go-round.

[martyriium-archive-blog]

Wrathful and Sullen

[martyriium-archive-blog]

What have I done, he thought to himself. Could he ever truly forget what he’d first felt upon meeting someone like Calpernia? Fire, life, light - burning bright and hot, searing heat upon his face whenever he dared gazing at her for too long in a moment of feeling bold, daring and unobserved in turn. When he’d seen her in chains, down in the dungeons, he realized… he wanted to be EVERYTHING for her. A friend, a father, a lover, a protector, a master, a servant, he wanted to be everything and could be nothing at all but just another templar lusting for oppression. Who could possibly blame her for it? For all she knew, he was nothing but a lowlife traitor who forsook all faith, dreams and ideals to save his own hide. Maybe she was even right about that.

Only in the following days did he finally gather the courage to seek her out again. Through a messenger - a polite invitation to have dinner with him. For once, the large table in the hall was set up for only two people, instead of ten and more (Samson was, usually, a very social man) for he was not sure whether Calpernia would even want to talk about anything in the presence of others. When she entered, he did not dismiss the guards. Not because he did not trust her, or because he feared her - but he did not trust himself, and feared what he might say if he were to be alone with her. Samson knew that he would make himself an old fool drunk on the feeling of finally being so thoroughly infatuated with someone.

“Are you adjusting well?”, he inquired, and seemed genuinely interested in her answer. Of course, he had to be - Calpernia was his responsibility now, and there was more to it than just control. Unlike many other templars, he had not forgotten what this was all about, and maybe this was his chance to make up for all the times he looked away in Kirkwall - because next to always, closing your eyes is easier than stepping up against injustice. No matter how much he wanted to deny it: he always had been a coward, looking for easy comfort and quick-lived peace of mind, soothed as long as he could go about his daily business unbothered. Now, memories of a comfortable life felt like ashes in his mouth. Sometimes, you had to fall in order to wake up from ignorant bliss. “I have spoken to the Inquisitor and the other advisors - you will help sorting out the mess you and your Venatori caused. Once order is restored, we can turn our focus to Tevinter. No earlier - be patient, as hard as it might be for you.”

[anguis-novum]

   She’d balked at first approach; surely Samson could have reached out to her himself for such a simple invitation? But, not one to shoot the messenger, she’d stuffily agreed. What was he playing at, hiding like this...?

   The air in the dining hall feels tense, off. Perhaps it is the guards standing stoic around the too-big, too-empty table; or perhaps the eyeful of vacant chairs, usually filled with bustling conversationalists and hearty eaters, is what makes her grimace upon entry. Maybe, even, it is Samson’s unbearable formality. 

   The back of her neck prickles under the collective gazes of the sentries as she pulls out a chair -- close to him, separated by a single unoccupied seat. (he will not keep her at arm’s length -- ignore her -- so easily). “As well as one can.” Calpernia answers, frowning. She clasps her hands upon the heavy oaken tabletop. Truthfully, they are treating her better than she’d thought, but a stubborn heart does not budge so freely.

   The young mage’s frown deepens considerably at his words... and then falters. Could it be true? Does the Inquisition truly recognize the importance of her plight? She allows her heart to leap before quickly silencing it with a swallow, a crinkle of her gloves. “They are interested, then,” Calpernia evens her voice with some effort, “In reviving my homeland? In wiping out corruption? Slavery?”

   “Or do they intend to conquer? I know too well how your Chantry treats mages. Be straight with me.”

   She shifts in her chair, adds, “And will you do something about these guards? Let us either invite them to the table or else dismiss them!” Turning, she sweeps her arm at the lot of them. She does not enjoy the notion of laymen watching her eat while they go without, no matter who they represent. “If I’d wished to attack you, Samson, I’d have done so long ago! There is no need for such frivolous procedure!”

[sodasexual]

It’s hard keeping a good mood when you’re a NEET deprived of your cellphone and Internet. Well, it’d already be hard for Shintaro to keep it in a normal situation, but this is sure not helping. To make things worse, his stomach is rumbling too much. What a great idea he had, not to eat anything before he decided to go for a walk today.

At least it’s not hard getting food at this city, not when people are willing to offer it to strangers this easily. Shintaro stares at the woman, then at the beef jerky, then nods in thanks to her. It’s not something he usually eats, but it smells well, at least. He takes a bite of it and-

(This… THIS TASTES AWFUUUL!!!!) Was the sad conclusion to the culinary experiment. Who knows if it’s because Calpernia is a bad cook or if jerky just doesn’t sit well with Shintaro, but the fact is that he’s now spitting the portion he bit on the ground and looking at Calpernia with a mix of anger and fear.

“WERE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!” Shintaro, it’s not a smart idea saying that kind of stuff to people’s face. Don’t come whining to me later asking why you’re constantly punched.

[anguis-novum]

   He takes it, which makes her spirits soar, silently, inwardly. It feels good to be generous. It heals the soul. Ah, yes, a good deed rewards itself...

   No. No, wait. He’s...spitting it out on the ground...

   Calpernia’s eye twitches in unacknowledged anger. Beggars? Being choosers?! Why, when she was his age (easy now, you’re only in your mid-twenties) she hadn’t even the luxury of choice! Who did this brat think he was!?

   (Or, it could be that her culinary prowess was dangerously lacking -- an option she hadn’t even considered...)

   “It was not my intention to kill you...” The mage hisses through clenched teeth, face taut as a drawn bowstring; truthfully, she’s a bit embarrassed... “I’d eat, boy, if I were you. Else I’d go beg elsewhere. Or is your pride stronger than your stomach?” How ungrateful!

[redsongredpain-deactivated20190]

He chuckles. One good look at her face, and it was easy to see that she had never seen a man naked. Odd, considering her background and all the half-naked lithe warriors following her. Still, he supposes that seeing a Marcher naked and seeing a Tevinter naked are two very different things. 

Or maybe, she’s seen a man naked, just not a man she had–

Getting ahead of yourself, old man. 

“You and that elf came barging in here.” 

Still, he’s tugging on trousers, if for nothing else than respect. He puts on a shirt, for good measure, and walks out, nearly colliding into her. 

“I’m dressed, Calpernia. What did you want?” 

He looks at the elf, still seated in the mud, hands over their face, then back at Calpernia. 

“With all the men walking around with metal bits barely covering their bits… you’re telling me you’ve not seen a one without it? Granted they are kind of smooth for men. Never seen so many hairless–” 

[anguis-novum]

   She nearly flies face-first into his chest -- blessedly clothed now, though a thin shirt does nothing to temper the bright and lively flush that has overtaken the entirety of her face. Curse her telltale cheeks! A champion does not blush like a schoolgirl! 

   And yet, like it or not, she is a mere 25-years and still hopelessly awkward when it comes to life’s ‘baser’ qualities. Her head jolts back from his breast, feet poised in mid step, and she suspends herself there, defiantly if not completely unnecessarily. 

   “--Th-The gladiators wear traditional garb in recognition of their hardships!!” She interrupts, voice leaping embarrassingly, childishly. Oh, gods. “And I assure you, I do not go looking under their sashes! Nor flying irresponsibly into their tents ... Without reason!” Almost a hypocrite there...

   “I’m sorry, milady!” The poor elf stutters through their fingers, evidently miserable.

   “I apologize for my acolyte.” Calpernia announces quickly, flinging her hand outward in an almost protective gesture. She forges on, more deliberately now. “They sought to fetch the rug by your bed, which was intended for me,” How silly she must look, balanced between two feet and blushing radiantly. “And I sought to avoid a needless confrontation... Though I’ve failed in that regard...” The mage scowls.

   Then, hastily, “--The smoothness of my men is of no concern to you!”

[anguis-novum]

|| this event looks so cool and interesting but i’m not sure if i have the time nor energy to thread about it and it’s fuckin me up.