our own destiny.

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[autexousiius]

AUTEXOUSIIUS - a private and selective multimuse roleplay blog featuring muses from dragon age, final fantasy xiv, dungeons & dragons, and fandomless ocs

loved by olive. affiliates: @fadeweaver ; @keepslore / @fatesown blogroll: @peacewalkcr | @storyblessed

CARRD LINK | MUSES | RULES

[autexousiius]

[after a full two months living on my other blogs] hi. hello. who wants a starter for zenos !!

[autexousiius]

💋 - kiss the bug that lives rent free in ur brain zenos

kisses || accepting

she drives him to distraction. this is not wholly unfamiliar to him. given a pursuit worthy of his interest, zenos fixes his attention on it with the single-minded devotion of a hound on a trail. everything else falls to the side; responsibilities, refreshment, rest.

this is different, somehow. nothing can satiate him. there is no small sense of accomplishment when he tracks down novel information on her, witnesses her utilize a new skill. just the constant undercurrent demanding more. he takes risks, meets her in locations neither of them should be seen in, goads her into close quarters that he might gaze upon her and feel the sharp pain of her touch.

it is not until she begins to invade his sleep that he considers something else may be at play. he has never had much interest in matters romantic nor carnal—attempts at dalliances in his youth left him largely unfulfilled. yet when she makes her appearances in his dreams, it is not to exchange blows. the images remain with him long after he wakes. her face, framed by his hair as it falls around her like a curtain, blocking out the world around them. her lips, soft and self-assured and sweet against his own. the press of their bodies, free of weaponry and armor—his hand flexes involuntarily when he thinks of pressing it against the swell of her hips.

laughable, the first time. intriguing, the third. but when the dreams continue to plague him, he is left only with the need to sort out what exactly it is he desires of her. their ongoing meetings are reminiscent of a love affair, he supposes. brief, tactile, kept secret from the world. he hardly thinks intimacy of a different sort could possibly complicate things more than they already have.

so he is resolved by the next time they meet. he will indulge this lurking desire, see if it is genuine or merely random imagery thrown together by his subconscious. not while they fight. he could not possibly separate the lust from the bloodlust if he were to attempt it then. no, zenos waits until after they've finished, after they've caught their breath.

she is wordless when she turns to leave and he is wordless when he wraps his fingers around her bicep. firm, but not overly forceful—the beast has been quelled for the moment. it isn't until he's pulling her towards him that he truly realizes he lacks a plan as to how he's going to go about this. it isn't an area with which he has much experience. but when has he let that stop him?

he has to take a knee to kiss her properly. he's too caught up in his task to consider how it might look. he brings his free hand to the side of her face, fingers catching up behind her ear and thumb tracing a rapid arc over her cheekbone before he captures her lips with his own.

though there's little to be said of technique, his enthusiasm is evident. his grasp on her arm loosens and the small lucid part of his mind wonders if she might hurt him for this. he wouldn't mind a second round, in truth. or, he would, but only because it would interrupt this. never has he learned something about himself with so little effort. this newfound passion settles in quite neatly among the other facets that make him who he is—though he dreads to think what his dreams will look like now.

[fatesown]

Oh, so he did hear her, yet thought he was entitled to a repetition all the same? Audacity doesn't begin to cover it—the entitlement is nearly as much as she can bear. Well-suited to the station into which he was born, though to say so would only feed the ego she silently criticizes.

The only response she does offer to his wondering, at first, is a small roll of her eyes. Were she the prey he seems to believe she is, she would back away from him, but she stands her ground, craning to look up enough to meet his fiery gaze. The next expression is subtle, but she doesn't doubt he will catch it—a minute narrowing of her eyes, defiant and challenging. Does he doubt how well she knows her own companions? it seems to ask. Does he believe he knows them better?

The truth is more complicated. She has thought about what her companions might think of such a proposal, and she doesn't doubt that it would go over... poorly. To say the least. They had been accepting enough of Gaius Baelsar, once upon a time, but the Black Wolf had shown a measure of contrition alongside a shared goal—the hunting of Ascians. Zenos has shown neither a guilty conscience nor a shared goal, save for the thrilling little exercises he shares with her. Where the only goal seems to be to get both of their blood pumping. To keep her on her toes, to keep her in fighting form between world-ending threats.

But one thing has occurred to her, as she considered their potential shared goals. He wants to kill her. That should be counterintuitive for the Scions, but there is an important placement of emphasis in those few, valuable words.

He wants to kill her.

Not someone else, not a tragic accident—he wants it done by his own hands.

And she wonders, with a small thrill at the base of her spine, what lengths he would go to to ensure that nobody else got the honor. That violent streak of his could be utilized as a shield, if directed and motivated correctly.

It is tempting to, petulantly, refuse to offer him more words when he had already been so rude about the few she gave him a moment ago, but she can think of no other way to express it:

"You won't let anyone kill me."

And the rest remains implied: that will be enough to satisfy her friends.

[autexousiius]

the thing that masha has sharpened above all else is his powers of observation. honed to an edge sharper than that of his blades, he is attentive to any shift in her stance or expression. he welcomes the challenge just as he welcomes all other challenges she offers. there is a troublesome idea that nags at him, asking what he must have missed those first few times they met. what her body was saying, her eyes.

they both spell out defiance now. he privately holds this as his favorite of her moods, when she glares up at him and stands her ground without a shred of fear. it is a confidence that is well-earned, but it quickens his heart all the same. every tug at her brow, every sharp exhale of exasperation—evidence that he continues to entertain her, as she does him. there is a fear, buried and unspoken, that she will one day grow bored of their little game. it is something he can never allow to come to pass. he knows, sure as anything, that he will not tire of her.

which brings him back to her offer. it's tantalizing. in truth, the times between their little spats are long and dull. there is little he can kill that will take the edge off. he finds amusement in honing new techniques, testing new styles. he revisits a hobby of his youth, haunting long-abandoned libraries and skimming everything from philosophy to fantasy.

but is it not the time between that makes their meetings so sweet? absence makes the heart grow fonder, or so the saying goes. can they truly continue to surprise each other with every day shared? something stirs in his chest at the thought, still. the same unfamiliar something that makes its presence known when she favors him with a rare smile.

and perhaps it would be worth it simply to see the expressions on the scions' faces when she arrives with him in tow. zenos knows his question failed to impress her, can see that clearly in her eyes. the idea that she has put a great deal of thought into this—into him—conjures a delight that he must forcibly keep from his expression.

"so, i am to be your guard dog? that is how you will satisfy your companions?"

it paints a fascinating picture. one that would certainly cement her image in the public imagination. the warrior of light; eikon slayer; champion of ishgard; liberator of ala mhigo and doma; and the woman that brought the viator to heel. quite literally.

"you do not require a guard dog, nor do i believe you desire one. there is little in this world that can stand against you, much less our power combined."

the conversation has him restless. he shifts his weight, reaches out for her again. not her jaw, this time—too demanding, and he is not inclined to anger her in this moment. his fingers land instead on one of the coiled locks of hair that frame her face. his touch is feather-light, brushing at her hair before taking it in his hand and letting it glide over his palm.

"why, then, do you make this offer? a diplomatic method of removing me from the board?" he searches her face intently, tracing any flash of reaction his words might provoke. he allows a faint smile on his own lips, voice dropping to something closer to a purr. "or is it simply a matter of enjoying my company?"

[morisenatha]

Therith falls into an almost perfect rhythm with Zenos as they dance. She's not new to dancing, having grown up learning her own style, so there was some familiarity with this form. She was, however, ill accustomed to dancing in heels. So if there were any occasional stumbles she prayed none would be the wiser with the wide berth they were given. 

Her eyes meet his briefly at the praise before looking away, still unsure how she feels about approval from him. It's certainly odd. But she doesn't dwell on it, instead focusing on his response to her question. His clear distaste for his father is very interesting, however, and is something she locks in her brain for later. It's not hard to imagine someone hating a man like Varis but she's more interested in the why. She could use that to her advantage. 

'How did you come to be the warrior of light?' Echoes in her head. It's a simple question, really, but it leaves her speechless. Why DID she become the warrior of light? Was it because she simply just liked helping people? Or was it to make it up to all the people who had died to get her here? Noraxia, those at the Waking Sands, Ysayle, Minfilia. Haurchefant. The list goes on. 

"There was just… a sign, I suppose." She gives a shrug. There's no need to divulge the ever growing list of names in her head. "When people began to refer to me as Warrior rather than my name." 

Which is true. There were few now that used her actual name. Namely the Scions but even then not always. 

She should try to question him about strategy. See if he truly doesn't care about divulging military secrets. But the nosier part of her is winning out. 

"Tell me about your father. It's clear that you seem to.. be at odds with him. Why?"

[autexousiius]

her reply is careful. too careful for his liking, but he won't argue the finer points of this game so early in the evening. he takes what he can from it. he'd been interested in motivation—perhaps he should have phrased his question more carefully. that she answers instead with how others perceive her is of interest as well. and it makes sense, he supposes. what is a hero without someone to save?

he wonders if she enjoys her title. the question isn't so pressing as to merit asking, simply an enjoyable item to muse upon as he guides her through a twirl. a title can be so dehumanizing. and hers? warrior. the word carries with it the weight of brutality, action, power. a weapon to be swung. a force to be directed. but she is subtle, isn't she? a rapier, not an axe.

he allows a measured look of amusement onto his features at her next inquiry. he had set the bait for that question and she had taken it quite admirably. for therith to know him—really know him, as he desires—she must know of varis. knowledge of the emperor will aid in her larger quest as well, to see the empire in ruins. or, he assumes that is her larger quest. it seems foolish to stop at merely the liberation of two provinces.

"my father..." and though he had planned for this, he finds difficulty in deciding where to begin. and where to end. but he has hopes that his generous answers will inspire a bit more elaboration in her own. "my father is a man of his duty. he fought well to earn his position and he intends to keep it. his interest in me consists wholly of my ability to claim victory and my ability to carry on the title." he pauses, attention momentarily diverted to ensuring she can manage a difficult maneuver without stumbling over her own feet.

confident she won't make a fool of them both, he continues. "i am not unduly interested in carrying on the title. and thus we are at odds." it isn't the entirety of the story, of course. she does not need to hear of hatred and neglect and the first scars that found a home upon his skin. it hardly makes for polite conversation. and he is loathe to have her think that he's fishing for some sort of pity.

"tell me of your family," he says, hardly giving her time to process what he's said. it's the kind of small talk he usually loathes, but the interest here is genuine. he can only learn so much of her from newspapers and field reports. and what he's gleaned is hardly enough.

[autexousiius]

@fatesown || from here

oh how she vexes him. and he delights in it, usually, the fact that she alone can elicit such a feeling in him. and with so few words. he talks himself into circles under that steady gaze, any attempts at provoking a reaction falling flat. she gives nothing away. cards held close to her chest, as it were. usually.

he knows to listen when she speaks. knows it is an honor to hear her. he does not tend to question her without reason, much as his flair for the dramatic longs for a bit of banter. but her words bring his world screeching to a halt, here, shatter whatever witty retort had been resting on his tongue.

his body acts on instinct when he takes her jaw in his hand. a desperate attempt to grasp at control of the situation when he feels as though she's shaken the very ground beneath their feet. he tilts her face up towards his own, searches her expression for... something. deceit, perhaps. mischief. but he does not know her to be a liar and he sees no playful twinkle in her eye.

she tolerates his grip for a moment longer than he'd expected her to. there is a restrained annoyance in her movements when she shakes him off—annoyance, as though he is the one being unreasonable.

his arm falls back to his side. harmless. for the moment. and he fixes her with a smile that does not reach his eyes.

"though i am not fool enough to doubt your sincerity, i do wonder if you've put enough thought into what your companions might think of such a proposal."

he hates to even mention them. yes, hates. he is precise with his language and has decided no other term can capture the feeling. they monopolize her time and attention, drag her on quest after quest to save the world. jealousy is an ugly emotion and one he thought himself above, but he seethes with it.

[storyblessed]

ꜱᴛᴏʀʏʙʟᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ — private + selective roleplay blog for original character alice moore. a number of available verses including modern, metal gear solid, dragon age, ffxiv, fallout, + more to come!

RULES | BIO | VERSES

loved by olive. 21+. blogroll: @autexousiius | @peacewalkcr

[autexousiius]

yet again the idea of making graphics is wretched to me in this moment so i'll just say it here for now: i'm moving alice over to @storyblessed to give her some breathing room!

[warmongered]

we're not mercenaries. we're not a foreign legion. MSF's a business — a new kind of business.

peacewalkcr — a private + selective kazuhira miller roleplay blog. oc + crossover friendly! rules | about

loved by olive. 21+. blogroll: @autexousiius (multimuse)

[autexousiius]

ok i'm moving kaz to his own blog because he's way yappier than my other muses and i need to compartmentalize for my sanity. i'll post an actual promo here soon (blog is still still vaguely wip), but interested parties can go follow him @peacewalkcr

i WILL be continuing threads i have with folks over there, so no worries there!

[nymphoutofwater]

fuuuuck that is my circus. are those…? yep… those are my monkeys….. goddammit.

[autexousiius]

It's Happening Again ( thought i could do a multi but now i want to compartmentalize the chatty ones to their own blogs ). i will keep you all updated on what i decide to do

[caracuuw]

Daily affirmations:

-I can make my OC a worse person

-I can make my OC more miserable

-I can make my OC more repressed

-I can give my OC more issues

-I can make my OC more self loathing

-I can give my OC new fears and insecurities

[autexousiius]

making character playlists is my absolute favorite activity and i've been meaning to do a little dump of the ones i have for my muses for a while so:

kaz — i think my favorite i've ever made, 70s/80s bangers

alice

ch'aska

zenos — zenos;wol, technically, but whatever

[autexousiius]

"If this was a real fight, I'd have broken your arm twice by now." (For Kaz!)

Sparring and Training || accepting

he struggles in vain to break the hold that snake has on him. his jaw is clenched against the pain and the frustration of it, so he only manages to choke out a wordless groan at first instead of the rather colorful language he otherwise has at the ready.

he's tired of their sparring matches turning out this way. he's really goddamn sick and tired of it. he'd thought he was pretty good at this sort of thing, back before he joined up with snake, so maybe it's a bit of an ego blow to realize how much improvement he really needs. or maybe he just hates the tone that snake sometimes takes with him, like he's talking to an unwieldy recruit.

he stops struggling and goes limp, letting his body bend in the rather uncomfortable position the boss wants it in at that moment. surrender tastes less and less bitter the more he does it. he tries not to think about it.

"yeah, i got it," he snaps, unable to keep the sharpness from his voice. he hates the way he sounds when he's annoyed like this, something like a petulant child. "you gonna let go of me now?"

[shiromemes]

Sparring and Training

Feel free to change pronouns/wordage and switch roles as necessary!

Things said:

"Come on, hit me harder."

"I know you can do better then that!"

"You wanna take a break?"

"Don't stop until you've pinned me, you hear?"

"Quit running away and hit me, coward!!"

"Don't underestimate me."

"I warn you- I don't really play nice."

"If this was a real fight, I'd have broken your arm twice by now."

"Ow!! Lucky shot..."

"Ha, you got me..."

"Ready for round 2?"

"Loser buys drinks/lunch/dinner."

"Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?"

"Come on, one more time, your forms getting better."

Things Done:

[PIN] Sender pins Receiver to the floor, ending a heated sparring session.

[SWAP] Sender and Receiver practice using the other persons signature weapon.

[OBSTACLE] Sender and Receiver run an obstacle course.

[RUN] Sender and Receiver run a few laps around a track.

[SLAM] Sender pins Receiver to the wall, hard.

[SHOT] Sender and Receiver go to a gun range to practice.

[TOSS] Sender throws Receiver during sparring.

[AID] Sender accidentally wounds Receiver during training and grabs the first-aid kit.

[MAGIC] Sender uses their powers during the sparring session to attack Receiver. (if applicable)

[REST] After intense training, Sender and Receiver take a much needed break.

[bcgbcss]

       ❝ We will FORSAKE our countries. We will leave our motherlands behind us and become one with this earth. We have no nation, no philosophy, no ideology. We go where we’re NEEDED, fighting, not for government, but for ourselves. We need no reason to fight. We fight because we are needed. We will be the deterrent for those with no other recourse. We are soldiers without borders, our purpose defined by the ERA we live in. We will sometimes have to sell ourselves and services. If the times demand it, we’ll be revolutionaries, criminals, terrorists. And yes, we may all be headed straight to HELL. But what better place for us than this? It’s our only home. Our heaven and our hell.                                        This is OUTER HEAVEN.❞

independent big boss / naked snake roleplay blog        selective, crossover friendly, 21yrs+                    written by Chavi