Altus;;

Independent Dorian Pavus loved by Rubi, please read rules before interaction!

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So as a note many may notice that I'm not actually active here lately. I have been hired by a gaming company for a job I could have only dreamed of, so as soon as I'm done working on that, I PROMISE I will do my best to be here to pester folks again!

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{iliyovunjika‌}

              “Seems so, well I guess it would’ve happened sooner or later with that mythical wonder running around,” he chuckles awkwardly and sighs a bit. Right, someone would’ve found out at some point. Be it from the way he acted or that mystic bird singing his thoughts aloud. What he planned to do now? Really, he wasn’t sure. It had been years since he even thought of something like this. They left him in pieces and only bothered to reassemble one part of him, turned him into a weapon for their entertainment and forced him into impossible situations. To be so sharp– his edges were sharp and unforgiving. Yet even so, somehow that man seemed to soften them so easily. For so long he existed only for the purpose of keeping them safe. (Oh but where has yourself gone?) It seemed so simple, so easy to be just that around Castille. Himself. That paragon of softness and warmth. He no longer existed in proxy as a tool to be utilized for others when he was around the elf. 

He would claw his way through hell, tear his heart asunder and break it day after day, he would remain sharp and dangerous on their behalf. (He’d be the fire they needed to burn brightly when they needed it.) He knew this existence was a putrid thing. That he would never be right again. That his mere presence could bring down hearts and hurt people just by looking at the mechanical limb he possessed. Sometimes he could feel the organic ghost of his natural arm there. So intensely that it brought a numbness to it, causing a malfunction to the sensors in the replacement appendage despite there being no real problem. His ears tune in to words and he tries to formulate his own. “Gods no, that phrase has left my vocabulary permanently.” 

He realigns his thoughts and pushes the ones that cloud his heart away for now. “You know, I never asked what you specialized in so I wasn’t aware you could bring me back from the dead, what the hell Dorian.” Its a good temporary distraction, that realization– but it doesn’t last with that inquiry. No, the second those words processed completely it was a whole new line of thought. Well, not new so much as a reoccurring series. Curiosity was a given, he supposed and it wouldn’t hurt to tell someone of this. (You already want to scream it from the rooftops as it is) “There is an infinite number of equations and variables that could explain how everything came to be. A person, an event, everything– but not him. Not Castille.” 

Agate hues turn downwards and he knows every thought by heart, every single flicker of an image that crossed his mind in tandem with the elf in question. “He’s a constant, unparalleled existence that’s so undefined yet absolute. He’s infinite in some way that grabs your attention and makes you believe every speck of stardust is magnanimously important. You can just exist in a single moment with him without ever wondering why you do, just that it’s something warm and beautiful. His voice sounds something like a sonnet and he speaks so sweetly in quiet hums and driven thoughts. He dulls my every edge and creates a membrane of idle curiosities that removes the pain of words that could so easily jolt me into running. His eyes remind me of Helleborus and Gods– his smile is so serene.” His heart clenches in his chest and he wonders if they realize it. He was written in war and travesty yet he was no less human for the monstrosity he became as a result. 

He was no creature of intimacy but his innate curiosity had made it so easy for him to push a window open if only to see what the other was like, to experience his existence in some way or another– and for it he ended up breaking every carefully constructed wall. “What makes him iron clad is not the action but the motive, his reason, his heart– Without these things it only chars the flesh and rends the world into chaos again and again. He’s so golden-hearted it should be illegal. He’s like the quiet sky, filled with soaring lights and opalescent colours.” Corpses lined his ribs, filled his lungs and gripped the shards of his heart from the countless stars to die at his palms but he forgets the feet beneath him at the sight of Castille in an instant. “I can hear and see better than most people because of the countless experiments done on me but somehow I’m thankful for the fact that I can because I can hear every syllable when he mutters under his breath and see the way his eyes light up even when I’m not next to him.” 

What even was this confession? He’s not even sure anymore, its just him spilling out his every thought at this point. “Being around him is like being granted that moment of solace that you can never quite get your hands on and he doesn’t even have to do anything other than just exist. He warps my perception and I feel like I can breathe again.” Shiro is broken into shards and sharpened by anguish yet there’s strength in those thin phalanges as he grips the cowl at his chest. “Certainly I believe in the evolutionary development that somewhere along the line we’re all borne of stardust but he takes it to an entirely new level. There’s something impossibly warm about everything he does that I find myself wondering who in the hell gave the gods the right to create something so divine. Its so easy to be captivated by him and its a tragedy he doesn’t realize just how brightly he shines and that he might never acquaint himself with the reality that he’s undeniably brilliant.” 

Its a fleeting moment that he realizes he’s been talking for quite some time but still his gaze doesn’t lift as he furrows his brows and sighs. “Gods forbid it but he could honestly tear me to shreds and I’d only be thinking about how lively he’d look doing it.” Finally he looks up to the other. It’s clear he is not soft, clear he is nothing of the sort. His heart cries out in war drums and his entirety is built for the destruction of what invades his path. Despite it all, right now, he looks so incredibly soft just talking about the Inquisitor. There is so much more to him than sharpened jowls and open palms. Show him Castille and he falls into smiles and heated features so easily. “Most of the time you’re compelled to fill the silence with something, anything because it’s deemed uncomfortable or the like but not with him. Its easy to just be in the same vicinity with him and acknowledge each other but never utter a word because there’s no need to.” 

“Though I love hearing him talk. I may live in a constant state of denial but there is a difference between enjoying the way another language sounds and enjoying a language when it’s spoken by a specific person. I think my heart was two beats shy of lunging out of my chest to greet him personally the last time he spoke Elvish.” That was probably when he started realizing it for himself. When every time Castille muttered beneath his breath in that beautiful language, he couldn’t help but to fall to pieces over himself. He thinks him celestial, fierce like the blazing trails of every comet tail wrapped into a singular entity and some how he’s been given the pleasure of existing near him. His heartbeat threatens its ivory cage and he shakes his head, looking away once more to ignore the burn of his own features. “It wasn’t like the feeling often described in literature, if you want to know how I ended up so far into this feeling. It wasn’t anything like an explosion or a freefall. It just..”

“Happened. It was soft, it was silence and warmth. An inexplicable happiness that gradually grew every time he smiled in front of me. It was in the kindness, the concern and gentleness that simply existed right there. I grew too fond too fast about the way his hand felt in mine.” Still, he could not say he deserved such a divinity but he would use every monstrous trait about himself to protect him. To keep Castille safe from all that threatened him. He would fight every divinity that dared to do anything other than bless the man with all that is good and bright. “Gods, Dorian– I would honestly break my heart every single day if it meant to keep his safe. I’m war worn and have long since decided I do not deserve such things but there is not a thing I wouldn’t do to protect him. I would bare my every tooth and proverbial claws at anything that dared to threaten him. And it isn’t because I think he can’t protect himself, rather– he deserves to be protected too.” 

His prosthetic hums to life due to his fluctuating thoughts and emotions and he wrinkles his nose when he focuses long enough to shut it back down, eyes settling on his palm. “He’s smarter than he believes he is, gentler than anyone I’ve ever met, more beautiful than any divinity I’ve crossed in the stars and absolutely maddening in how creative and wonderful he is.” He sighs deeply and his palm soon greets his features over his eyes,”Dorian, I am so in love with him it drives me up the wall and I don’t know how to deal with it because there is no way in hell he feels the same nor is there any way I even remotely deserve someone like him. I’m so spooked by intimacy I get anxious when someone hugs me because you don’t just walk out of three years of torture and pain and not flinch when someone sees the scars. He deserves so much better than a cacophony of a monstrosity like myself but there’s no denying that I’m so absolutely fucked in the “Let’s not love the Dalish Elf” section of my life it’s ridiculous.”

               He could admit, he wouldn’t know exactly what that was like. He knew what his.. thing with Bull was, but he had to remember this wasn’t about him. The Inquisitor did so many for all of them. None of them would have met if it weren’t for that man. And when he figured out the Inquisitor’s feelings for this man and.. Cole started parroting the words in this man’s head, he knew he had to help arrange something. Lucky for him, he and the Miracle Healer, Nesisa of clan Ghilain got along. and this was enough to help him figure out what needed to be done. Only thing that was needed in this case, was to get them both somewhere that they could hear one another speak and not see one another. That was easy enough, the Herald’s Rest had two floors and an open floorplan that Dorian had seen the inquisitor use multiple times to his advantage.  It was amazing how often that man had climbed even with the one arm.

              A neutral expression settled on the man’s face before he looked over the other, listening intently. “May be for the best, my friend.” though he didn’t even hesitate to laugh again at the comment of bringing someone back from the dead. “Well, depending on how dead, I would suppose that technically it would no longer be you. I resurrect bodies from time to time to aid us on the battlefield, you see. There’s a distinct difference in how it works versus just straight up resurrecting someone completely. That, unfortunately, is impossible, I’m afraid.” That would be frightening, would it not? The decay of a corpse walking around as if nothing had happened to them, as though they had never died. That was the one thing that he personally… was not a huge fan of.

                     But now he was grateful that the mage upstairs was doing well at keeping the rogue silent, sometimes it was handy that the inquisitor had chosen that class. He knew how to stay silent, he knew how to hide in plain sight. That was one of few things that the mage envied of the man. It was certainly a talent he wished he knew.. but not one he would trade his current abilities for any day of the year. There had been a momentary glance up, as if trying to locate Nesisa to find out how her end was going, though it was returned almost instantly back to the man. He was good at keeping his ear out for the other’s words, however, and he remained silent enough to listen to every word that came from him. He could only hope that the elven man was upstairs doing the same.

                “I should be careful about talking yourself down and selling yourself short like that, Shiro.” Even if he wasn’t personally interested, he knew someone that was. And it was killing him slowly not to reveal his hand just yet. But it was necessary if this was to go the way it needed to. “Though I can suppose that I understand what you mean. There’s nothing like the feeling of someone you love in the room. Nothing like looking at them or hearing them laugh.” There was a slight shrug, as if making it known that.. well, he got it. He didn’t know how to show that he felt that way towards anyone, he pushed any and all emotions back. But nonetheless.. there was an elf upstairs that heard all of this, if things were going well.

                  It was so cute it was sickening. That was the phrase he’d used before… and it still held true. “Would it make you feel better to know you may never have to repeat what you told me again?” He couldn’t hold this knowledge back anymore, truthfully. It would likely be bad enough if this poor sap found out by himself, but for the time being.. well.. He needed to know. He was already going to be embarrassed knowing that Castille heard what all he had poured free from his heart and lips. Castille needed to know Shiro’s feelings… and Shiro needed to know of the rogue’s presence. But he still waited for the signal from upstairs to let him know that it was alright to inform him of why and where the reasoning would be.

                    For the moment, however, he had to allow for the man to think that it was technically just him and the mage. There was enough of the hint in what he had just said, though part of him wondered how long it would take the other to pick up on that very small detail. Thought there were technically two giveaways. He knew how kind-hearted the Inquisitor was. He knew that the Inquisitor was soft blushes and silent cursing the fact that he could not just come out with his own feelings for the man that now sat before him. “I honestly think you need to get it out in the open..” It was only then that he noticed the black hair of the mage upstairs and the flash of yellow eyes glancing to him with a nod upwards. “And.. Nes and I figured out a way to do that.. so, I’m going to give you three guesses as to exactly how the two of us did it.”

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{iliyovunjika}

            Oh Gods, why did he feel like he was a young teen again talking about some lass or lad or another? He internalized his groan, hand meeting his face at the realization that it was Cole who’d been singing about his affections to Dorian. His features were going to permanently burn at this rate as he looked to the other. “I swear I’m going to just think of puppies and kittens down to the deepest roots of my brain whenever I’m around him from now on.” As if he could help it when Cas was around. If anything he couldn’t even stop himself if he wanted to. Though the note of them both being oblivious as could be earned a cocked brow. Was there really something there? It wasn’t so much that Shiro was oblivious as it was that he was in complete denial that anyone could possibly hold that kind of affection for him anymore. He believed he did not deserve such things now. Granted, he’s been oblivious to those sorts of things his entire life as well so that didn’t help his case any. 

“You have no idea how oblivious I am. A girl in school once told me she liked me and I said “Of course? We’re friends?” That was the first time I ever made a girl cry and I felt so bad.” If he ever tried to show his affections it was a mix between awkward and just plain terrible. Yet it was effortless when he wasn’t actively attempting it just because of his personality and habits. He sighed and rubbed at his cheek, trying to sort his thoughts out. Castille had feelings for him? It wasn’t like Dorian would mess with him like this. There was no reason to. “I was blissfully content just seeing him smile and hearing him talk. If my heart gives out know it was your fault, Dorian. I’ll come back from the veil to haunt you.” Gods alive how was he going to face Cas now?

                 “You may be safer doing so, but that little secret is already out.” His words were easily stated, cup settled between his hands while he glanced over to the other man. “What you plan to do now that it is.. well, that would be up to you, wouldn’t it?” A man had priorities, and in this case, those priorities lie in having found the closest friend of the Inquisitor and arranged a little.. meeting of sorts. They had been discreet in planning it, having found that there was one place the Inquisitor never seemed to be in a day that he could manage to miss two mages having a conversation. Oh, but he really hoped some good would come of those plans now. But he chuckled at the cocked brow, smile still spread over his lips. So he really hadn’t noticed those little looks the Inquisitor gave him. It was a pity, really. But he hoped that would soon be rectified. And quickly. Honestly, he was grateful it was him and not one of the others that caught on to this whole thing. It was mercy, in his own eyes. 

                    He felt bad chuckling at that, he really did. He never seemed to like to mention his own past but right now, he wanted to just relax with his drink while he spoke to this man about what he personally felt was an important endeavor. The Inquisitor was a busy man, but that didn’t mean that he should suffer through his feelings when he had confirmation that Shiro did in fact have feelings for this man. “Well I recommend not using that particular phrasing when admitting it to him.. if you ever do.” There was a moment that he raised his brow, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “If your heart gives out, you’re lucky I’m rather knowledgeable of necromancy and healing. They tend to come in handy, you know.” But now the mage shifted, now turning to fully face the other. “But, indulge me... what is it.. exactly.. that gets your heart thrumming for our dear Inquisitor? Cole only gave a vague description when he picked up on it.”

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@iliyovunjika / Cont! 

           Of all the things he’d expected conversationally this was not one of them. Almost immediately his features deepened in hue and he was sputtering a bit, trying to figure out how to refute those words with a wave of his hand. Nonsensical! How could he possibly– Alright even he couldn’t lie to himself like that but gods had it been that obvious? Clearing his throat, he rubbed at his own features and tried to figure his words out. How the hell do words work again? What even is being articulate anyways? Well he’d be figuring that out if he weren’t pausing over that last bit. What looks? “Magical little bird, huh? Mind directing me to this phenomenal avian so I can bribe their silence?” Nervous joking, that’s a sure fire way to totally shut that thought down right? Not in the slightest. “I highly doubt he has any interest in the likes of me, Dorian. If anything he’s only watching me because he feels obligated to check in on me from time to time due to his own golden hearted nature. I’m content just seeing him, really.”

                  A laugh left the Altus, far more amused than it truly needed to be, but the man could recognize admiration when he saw it. “Oh, please, there is no bribing that source. He hears the voices in your head and parrots them to a tee. Sometimes things you don’t want getting out. If anything, he would try to help you.” Oh, maker this poor man. He just couldn’t take a hint, nor could the other one, but he was going to certainly be nudging him, too. “Oh you’re both oblivious as anything.” He paused, swirling his drink in its cup before he lifted his eyes to the other man again. Though he couldn’t say he’d lay on the pressure, but he would allow the healer herself to, having noticed her talking to the Inquisitor a few days ago. “It’s sickeningly sweet, you know, but if you want to remain oblivious, that is completely up to you.” The cup met the man's lips, before being set to the table and hazel eyes were turned to the hall beside them. It was rare that the hall was empty, though now was one of those times. Varric was busy working on his latest book, and likely not paying any attention to anything outside of it. Castille was in the war room with his advisers, unfortunately not having the time today to visit with his dear friends because of it.

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{Hawke‌}

     “He also likes cats and trying to flirt with me. He’s already said he doesn’t like Killian.” You can’t separate a Ferelden from her Mabari. That’s just suicide. “And as much as I trust my dog, he’s starting to give me the chills to be around.”

                                            “Ah, hit a sore spot did I? I assume you don’t wish to talk about it.. which, I suppose, is fine.” The mage raised a brow at the woman, arms crossed over his chest. “But I Assume something happened that made you feel that way, yes? Otherwise you wouldn’t have started feeling uneasy about him?” He could only figure something had to have happened. “So your dog likes him but something about him creeps you out. Quite curious if you ask me.”

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