#v.unknown

[lawrising-a]

( continued from x / @gamethecry )

the eye comment had been a poor attempt at disguising his own surprise, really. word vomit being an accurate term for it ; if you will. but it had caught his attention first, the other man's eyes -- a strange thing to fixate on, though the detective couldn't help himself. their faces were strikingly identical to one another, so in a well masked panic, matthew focused in on the widening eyes of the other. people do murmur on about how eyes are 'the mirrors to the soul' or whatnot, and he found himself wondering about the same thing. merely hoping it would somehow be different. yet all he found in their locked gazes was creases around the pupil such as his own, along with the same shade of mud brown eyes. huh! so this was ... actually a legitimate thing then.

a wave of nausea coils in his belly, lips twisting in thought when the other finally speaks up. immediately swarmed with a thousand thoughts, completely and helplessly stumped on how to proceed correctly. a part of him, a cowardly part, almost doesn't want to dignity the question with a response -- nervous on confirming how similar their voices are with clarity. he shouldn't have approached. should've blamed the crazy view on his yellow avaitors plus the buttload of exhaustion, and continued on his merry way. but he can't reverse time ; besides, the curiosity is already eating him alive. maybe it's just the appearances that are the same? mat's heard of everyone having at least one doppelganger out there. this could be a freaky case of that!

( excuses, excuses -- )

“ ... oh, right, i didn't properly introduce myself.” feigning a casual air about him, matthew forces a smile ; though his eyes don't quite meet it. “you caught me off guard to say the least! but im ... matthew patrick.”

if his voice shies away when he finally reveals his name, matthew struggles to own up to it. the tip of his fingernail beginning to tap at the badge clipped to his belt as the detective attempts to move past his peculiar behavior. regain some of that control he lost at the end there. after all, there was this strange urge to overcompensate flowing beneath his skin -- that began bubbling up when confronted with this carbon copy of himself. like he holds this childish desire to impress.

“but a lot of people call me detective patrick too, everlock police force and all.” a pause, then, “what about you? what's your name?”

... only fair to dig his teeth into the opportunity to grill the guy in turn, right?

[clarentine]

@mortalshinobi.

“ What did you just call me? ”

Funny how all it took was an answer for Mordred to shed her helm. Emeralds fixed upon the other’s form. Expression not giving away her surprise, and the hint of delight she’d rather deny.

[mhxcu]

continued. || @labrynthined.

                  « 謎のヒーローX » “Death? That’s kinda depressing but it’s not predictable. It might be inevitable but you still can choose where you go down, right?”

                  He smiles, despite the topic at hand, but his words are undoubtedly those of a warrior who once died on the battlefield.

                  “Besides,” Hand disappears into a pocket before he offers a small keychain of a white fluffy wolf out to the other. “I was talking about these kinds of things. Surprised?”

[mhxcu]

continued. || @wandererswe.

                    « 謎のヒーローX » “You know those things are poisonous right? And you wanna go into that cave filled with them?”

                    He wasn’t against their plan, but he wasn’t quite all for it either. Still, the other seemed to know what they were talking about so he was going to trust them, for now at least.

                    “Let’s just get it over and done with.”

                    Hopefully without being detected.

[mhxcu]

continued. || @mortalshinobi.

              « 謎のヒーローX » Oh, they meant that other time. Right.

            “Look, I apologised for that already, didn’t I? That was that cowardly Master’s orders so I didn’t really have a choice.”

            But admittedly he did, the past version of himself had just chosen to obey. The thought brought out a sigh from X. He might as well have told them his real identity already so there wasn’t much point trying to hide it anymore.

            “It’s Cu Chulainn, my true name, but just call me X. Anyways, it’s odd running into you here, Archer, or do you prefer your true name?”

[flamiings]

@nymph-sacrificed​

Whoa bloom walked through the castle of domino a palace she was still trying to get use to after all, I wonder what this room is double checking no one was coming bloom turned the knob on the door and entered the room gingerly it was so cute and quaint.

"A mobile hung above a crib w...w..wait a second is this my room the nursery had little pictures of bloom and a few of daphne holding her in some she smiled softly admiring all of it."

Curiously why didn't her mom or sister ever mention or at least ease bloom into knowing about her nursery the thought nawed at her brain for a very long time, "I should go slowly backing out of the room hoping no one would catch her she quietly closed the door and tried to find the gardens to go draw something at that moment."

[lionofhonnleath-blog]

After a long and ardent slumber ( one fully, well damned deserved in a life he found sleep so adamantly and constantly eluding him - he couldn’t even recall he’d fallen asleep at all ), the Commander found himself shaking frost from the chill of his plate armor before even daring step within its confines. Underclothes and padding aside, which entirely did their job insulating him, his mind would surely play the trick of making it seem colder than he could feel.

His hands worked smoothly and effortlessly fastening, tying, and linking - a man transforming into a warrior.

A warrior turning into a respected beast as the soft cloth and fur of his surcoat was draped over his shoulders, the fur smelling of his many books and papers as well as the feathers of his crow who so loved to nestle within.

Dawn was coming, he could hear the change in the air as the keep awoke with all those who took shelter and refuge within it. The sun began to peak through splintered, cracked ceiling - he needed to do something about that ( he didn’t want to, he enjoyed the view regardless how chilly the nights and days could be, and so he wouldn’t unless the Inquisitor themselves demanded it ).

Cullen enjoyed early mornings, enjoyed them for the peace that was more hopeful and bright than the comparative somber and reflective peace of dusk and late nights.

( Ah, the breakfast is being tended to, he can hear scullery maids and kitchen maids gossiping in the courtyard below as they ascend the steps to the kitchen with their buckets of water from the well. )

He descended down the ladder that divided his quarters and his office, amber eyes glossing about his desk as he neared to see all what had been left for him to tend to. He perched over it, his chair long forgotten in the corner by the shelves to serve as an extra space for books to be stacked, with armored palms resting upon the hilt of his sword.

     “There is much work to be done, indeed,” he muttered, words only for himself to hear as he was alone until Skyhold had fully woken ( in which case, so many would wander through his doors throughout the day with inquires and reports galore ).

He was contented and well rested this morning, his movements and mind falling into place with the work he took as much solace in as pride. One might even catch the Commander him with the faintest of smiles.