Abaddon;

The quintessence of malevolence.

[phoenix--down-deactivated201504]

     When she says his name, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that it caused a small shiver to run up from the base of his spine all the way to the little hairs at the nape of his neck. At first he doesn’t recognize her, but his list of demons who she might be has severely dwindled down the past few days. Not a mewl from his lips is to be heard when he finds himself trapped against the wall, green eyes sweeping across the interior of the room. Boyish lips crack into a particularly playful smile that seem out of place with the situation. The only thing that Dean Winchester seems capable of saying at this moment in time;          ❝Kinky.❞

[mortexincarnato-blog]

Hums eliciting, the stature slithers to its target like a mountain lion stalking its prey, dangled so precisely upon the obstruction that quicksilver burns throughout her optics, flickering to mingle with the spark of a grin lighting her countenance. It’s almost poetic, how pathetically effortless it is to captivate another victim, his valour an additional indifference stimulating scarlet veins to course with such fire akin to candlelight illuminating a cathedral with ethereal incandescent.

"You know, when your dear brother combusted my damn meat suite I pondered over various ways that I could get pay back." Slender fingertips coiled around neck, knuckles transitioning to a foreboding shade of pallid, as exhales became slow, and still to brush across his visage. "See, I could always kill him. Short, painless." Amusement twisted off her raspberry tongue, the ember igniting the shrill reminiscence to cast through the vices mounting her membrane, enveloping chills to sprout upon spine.

"But, then there's you — Dean. I can't wait to tear out those oh so pretty, green eyes."

[mortexincarnato-blog]

alabaster--emeer

❝Michael.❞

Slender fingertips adorn the crystalline glass, amber and gold resplendent within its confines as the incessant taps reverberate across the taverns exterior. ❝It’s been a quite a while since I’ve seen you, doll. I’m starting to believe that you haven’t missed me.❞

[mortexincarnato-blog]

imperfectxfacade

❝Katherine, is it? ❞

Abaddon’s never been quite fond of humans, the creatures cast with a plethora of purity — an essence that she quite clearly is deficient in. But, there’s something precarious wafting across this particular ones stature, all hallow optics and chaotic russet ringlets. ❝I like what you’ve done with the place. New York ; the city that never dares to sleep. ❞

[mortexincarnato-blog]

ourdefiler

❝Oh, Death. ❞

A melodious cadence slipping from lips, riddled with the quicksilver transitioned into a resplendent scarlet. Oh, how Abaddon’s opticals are radiant. ❝Lucifer — darling. Could you be a doll, and care to explain the habitats of hell? It seems that Henry Winchester created a certain mishap.❞

[mortexincarnato-blog]

m-u-r-d-e-r-o-u-s--intent

❝Dean.❞

Pearled amusement departs stainless lips — one to still be not her own, a newly obtained vessel adorned with the stature bathed in the finest ivory. And, slender fingertips act like clockwork. Flicking wrist to craftily implant the solider upon an embellished wall, limbs dangled as each of her own proceeded across the stone work foundation. ❝I never perceived you as a fool, but then again your ancestors were never quite that good with minding their own business.❞

[makeadealxkeepitarchive-deactiv]

                  Tranquility filled the confines of his private estate. Much to the demons preference; the silence stilled the troubles of his mind. Which laid wake in his future, and the promises it still had to offer him. His hum breaks the silence; a content tone vibrating at the back of his throat, nothing in specific. One would take it as him being in a chipper mood, but it was a simple method of calming himself — See the silence of the room allows him to hear every step taken toward his office.

                 It’s everything but and easing feeling that comes over him. The way he’d prided himself in approaching things was having a set plan, everything was organized and or thought through, today was planned for time to himself. — Much needed considering the amount impending stress he’s been through. Trials; Winchesters, angels falling, it was time he thought out the means at which he would proceded with what he’d planned for what was his;  H e l l .

                                                                                                    [the humming ceases]

          Cerulean eyes settle over her form; he sees past the vessel and immediately he’s aware of the intent of the visit. He’s stilled, not a muscle stirred, this ‘problem’ would be settled here and now if it so took that direction. For now it seems small chatter was expected of him, and who was he not to play along with whatever it was Abaddon was looking to gain from this oh so lovely reunion. 

          ❝Thank you,❞ he chimes, a devilish smile following. A ploy at keeping his composure and shrouding any doubts he himself is feeling. 

               ❝Well,❞ a finger pointed — The hands of a strong man, worn out from days at work, but they also possessed a certain grace to them, not his own, but the hands of a painter. That certain fines, and poetry that the demon enjoyed so much, a quality he sought out in his vessels.  ❝— Darling sometimes we can’t have everything be prim and proper, even as much as we’d like it to be.❞ Also a hint at her never gaining what he wanted.

                 ❝Now — May I help you with something or did you simply come to have yourself a proper chat with the King of Hell?❞

[mortexincarnato-blog]

               Conflagration was glorious underneath the flickering inferno, amber and gold smoulders unwavering within the hatched stone work foundation, eliciting darkness to reflect across the shrewd brims. An essence immersed in the finest ivory — there was still a yearning spreading like incessant wildfire with reminiscence to a vessel lit into flames, licking the defined curvatures shrouding its stature. Assemble enduring a plethora, enlightening the glorious escapades contrived by prominent art and tales witnessing the potency of armed soldiers wrestling to overcome hell's battles. Yet, within the blink evoking trembled eyelashes, its exterior slipped between her nimble fingertips and she had conspired to uncover another contesting its ethereal beauty.

               Perhaps, in retrospect the malicious glint adorning his visage could spark a whimper to extract from another’s orifice. But, the arches assisting her shoulder blades held elevated, the sharpness conflicting across the anchors of a jaw line defining its notorious brims. Inclining, the liquid substance bathing in the confines slithers down her throat like it was merely water — neither which the warrior desires, its supplements on no account absorbing to wither. And, ceaseless taps settle stilettos across the threshold, verging to interlace with the melodic rhythm everlasting from a grand clock detained at the pint of the vicinity. A patience that always wore thin and jurisdiction coursed throughout scarlet veins, a skeleton riddling a lithe frame that could never be hers to begin with.

               Crowley is to not be the exception, a demeanour pierced with an apprehension that sears to its surface, beading into the enchantments bordering his expressions. And if he were to bask in the ache that she had tolerated, the countless battles marking her time across the milestones sheltering landmarks washed away through the visages of time, the designation could rightfully be his to claim. But the recollections illustrate him as a salesman, a measly cross roads demon ephemeral to the glimmering interactions smearing an operated business.

                                                                       So, the twitch works like clockwork.

               Revolving russet optics as each bountiful step clips into her spring. Until, the exteriors centimetres alongside his, to consume the intoxication embellishing a scent that wafted into a bloodstream.

               ❝King?❞ Rhetorical in its nature, ridicule trembles into the air crafted between them as if the potency were to be cut with the razor edge contrived through a blade. Ringlets silhouetted her facade, the malevolent smirk wakening its curvatures are almost poetic. ❝You see, Darling — I thought we struck up an agreement? Your very blood will drip to every ounce cementing a floor, until you never occupy that position again.❞

[depuratus-deactivated20130909]

              wιтнтнedevιloɴмyмιɴd’ѕ 500+ ғollower ɢιveαwαy!

Let me start off my saying how amazing this is. I never, ever, ever thought I’d get over two hundred followers to be honest, not with all these other amazing roleplayers surrounding me. The very fact that I’ve gained over 500 in the span of a month and a half mesmerizes me, and I just want to thank all of you with the very tips of my being for sticking with me.

In celebration of this milestone, I will be doing my first ever giveaway! Let me lay some ground rules.

Basic Rules;;

You must be following me. And don’t just follow for the giveaway and then unfollow. That’s an arse move.

Remember that if you win this, you will have to give me your address so I may send your winnings to you. I promise to keep these secret and to delete them from memory and computer after I’ve sent them out.

Reblogs only. Likes will do nothing for you so don’t bother.

You may reblog this twice, no more.

Giveaway Details;;

Everyone who reblogs this post will be put into a random number generator as many times as they reblogged it, which is twice maximum. Out of that random number generator I will pick the first three names to come up in order. This is how the winnings go:

1st place winner: You get to choose one of the necklaces above, first pick and all and will receive 3 random promotions from me throughout the month or so.

2nd place winner: You will get second choice on whatever necklaces are remaining and receive 2 random promotions from me throughout the month.

3rd place winner: You will get the remaining necklace and receive one random promotion sometime during the month.

*This giveaway ends June 12th

[mortexincarnato-blog]

makeadealxkeepit

Crystalline walls decoded with prestigious embroiderer, beautifully crafted with the manufactured stitches of a thousand filaments held high amongst the sculpted confines built within a chandelier. Ashen and oak fragments wafted into Abaddon’s bloodstream, an intoxication that hummed against the subtle incarcerates of her essences esophagus, eliciting sparks to flame across the taste buds like a clandestine cast alight with its wick parched within a cathedral.

Sophistication, elegance, magnificence — the environs was captivated with ethereal beauty, and the quintessence of authority absorbed into her countenance. Yet, the beholder supplemented a power that was at thirst to her own, and with the footsteps proceeded against the threshold warranted the surged wrath to coax into her abdomen.

“Nice place." Amusement merited raven ink like brows to sprout across porcelain, beading into the crest as nimble fingertips incessantly tapped against the neck of a champagne glass. "Art, composition, provisions. Your minions — however."

Index strikes against the shell of her ear, the merciless whimpers vibrate.

[mortexincarnato-blog]

hopelessnessandfaith

depuratus

❝Want to know how my life was like until you, imbecile morons showed up?❞

There's the lightest armour of a breath that flutters against her esophagus, eases the arches pressed against shoulder blades — an essence bathed in the finest ivory — to fall to a systematic standstill. Lithe digits provoked the intoxicated remedy to slip down the confines built within her throat, a liquid substance coated with a relic interlaced throughout time.

❝ Every night there was something positively satisfying for me to kill. Perhaps, the idiotic blonde at the bar, or another who was able to put your brothers oh so pretty green eyes to shame.

Then, I not only get stuck in the year twenty-thirteen where your civilians are infatuated with a personality’s consumption rather than the enlightenment of art or history.

But, my meat suite gets incarcerated by a damn lighter. ❞

A subtle pause permits a candle wick to burn with incandescent light across the defined curvatures within her visage.

❝Now, Sam. Is that any way to treat a lady? ❞

[xxfleurdelysxx]