d e f e c t e d;;

Only the DEAD have ever seen the end of W A R ;; independent roleplay acc for Pollux from the HG series.

[pxllux-blog]

[pxllux-blog]

“slurred words”

Send “slurred words” to hear see my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.

[pxllux-blog]

slurred words [tell me i'm pretty]

Send “slurred words” to hear see my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.

[pxllux-blog]

forbidden words ;; ok, i'm going to tag them with 'notes ;;' bc they might be annoying to some? idk. so yes.

[pxllux-blog]

SLURRED WORDS MOTHERFUCKER

Send “slurred words” to hear see my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.

[pxllux-blog]

slurred words (except do it for my castor blog)

Send “slurred words” to hear see my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.

[pxllux-blog]

slurred words ( omg this should be fun )

Send “slurred words” to hear see my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.

[pxllux-blog]

[pxllux-blog]

Send “slurred words” to hear my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.

[pxllux-blog]

[directoriisms]

pxllux liked for a starter:

[directoriisms]

     ❝ You got the cameras ready for later? ❞

[pxllux-blog]

A quick NOD ; everything was good. He would not risk the only thing that could go RIGHT.           THEN ; a simple sign. Easy           enough to understand that he              returned the question.                                                                    ARE YOU PREPARED?

[pxllux-blog]

you have good taste in music <3

Forbidden words ;; Thank you so much, love !! I really enjoy Damien Rice’s music, though I’m a big fan of Mumford and Sons as well. I fell in love instantly. A lot of people in my school and surroundings don’t know them (strangely enough!), but that’s okay. I’m glad you enjoy it, as well !!

[pxllux-blog]

       & WINDS touched his skin and sandy hair, the first in ages,        or so it seemed. To be denied of the beauty of nature - her        twirling leaves and buzzing bees ( even the SMELL of        lavender & mint !! ) - it had been quite unbearable. 

                 I CAN BREATHE AGAIN.

                                      It took some time to write it down & look around                                       simultaneously - but for what it's worth, there's                                       truth within his words. Even his often contagious                                       smile could convince you of the fact that he                                       belonged OUTDOORS.                                                             Free. Like a bird. At last.

[faithdeee]

Visit Original Link

Delicate | Damien Rice

[pxllux-blog]

forbidden words ;; being assigned to write a script for a play at school within two days more like you could've just said you wished me dead

[coalmiiner-blog]

[coalmiiner-blog]

                   ❝ you’re not supposed to be in here. ❞

[pxllux-blog]

          Scribbled quick & clean,             not to disturb the sleeping                HIJACKED near them ;                                                  Neither are you.

[vcltz-deactivated20150220]

pxllux

                                      RAIN FALLS HEAVY on    the DISTRICT 13                    ground, each splatter seems to permeate    the air with a                    darkness — a tension that he CANNOT deny    has been                    building for months; since they become       PRISONERS                    of the REBELLION && to over throwing the    Capitol.  It                    can be hard; too much to handle — too much to stomach.                    && yet, somehow, he is still standing — well sitting,  but                    his disability isn’t going    to stop him from chasing down                    the only person he can understand    && that CAN speak                    to him (well when he says speak …).                    He’s trying hard to get out over the    rubble but his chair                    isn’t meant for the outdoors and it’s not     long before he                     topples over, glasses askew momentarily    as  he cries                    out — surprised by his sudden collision with  the rubble                    surrounding the outside doors. He doesn’t even  know if                    pollux is STILL near but he CRIES out anyways.                       ❛ Please, DON’T leave — don’t abandon me here. ❜                    SELFISH. SELF-SERVING.Beetee is guilty of being                    both as he begs for Pollux to come back, TO stay rather                    than run away. Where would he even go? Would he                    rather die in the wilderness than WASTE here away                    with the rebels? With him?

[pxllux-blog]

       DARKNESS.   Whether the  sun shone  &  fireplaces          scorched his skin,   there would  be darkness either  way.          Revenge ,  r e p a y m e n t  , did it matter if the sacrifices          were what he FOUGHT for?  Oh dear god ; the shame he          carried of leaving him behind,   because ,  apparently ,  it          was the  RIGHT  thing  to  do   -   it  would  haunt  him  on          sombre  &  desolate nights.   Though he had  achieved to          go far beyond grieving in silence. To stray from humanity          &  help  &  the ever comforting ‘everything is perfect, it          never  happened!’ culture   was   to  find  an  escape he          desperately needed.

                                        HE’S DEAD, BEETEE.                     It was nothing personal.    Pollux  just needed AIR where there                    was none given.   And he needed air fast.  Though packed with                    enough  food  and  water  for  DAYS ,  his  disappearance  was                    sudden   &   without hesitation,   driven  by pure   MISERY    &                    anguish.  None could know.     None could make an attempt at                    stopping him in his path, whilst sleeplessness and depression                    worsened his situation.     CASTOR IS GONE, HE’S GONE, HE’S GONE. HE’S DEAD, HE’S DEAD,    He wasn’t Pollux anymore. He was a shadow of a man   once  praised  for his  kindness,  weighted down by the   events of the day.  No more hope,  no more fighting, no   more ANOTHER before himself.              He was done.   Done and tired.                                   I LEFT HIM BEHIND AND HE IS NO MORE. HE-              & yet he could not leave Beetee ROTTING all alone. He was done,              but not heartless.  His friend's translator repeating signals as clear              as the day  ,   vivid and quick  -  but Pollux stood silent, perhaps a              whole  lot  of  feet  away  ,  rain  flooding  down  upon  their  muddy              appearances.  There was a long silence on Pollux's  side while he              watched his friend struggle, eyes closed and a sound escaping his              throat that could be described as wailing  ;  ugly and raw. Then,  a              pledge,                                      I'M GOING TO HELP YOU OUT, BEETEE.                                   BUT I'M NOT LETTING HIM DIE ON HIS OWN.                                                          I CAN'T DO THAT.                                   OH, GOD, HE'S DEAD AND I AM TO BLAME.