BUT MY TREBUCHETS! THEY REQUIRE CALIBRATIONS! NEGOTIATIONS? I THINK YOU MEAN THREATS! LET US SHOW OUR FORCES! //Â Â @praeceptore-m
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BUT MY TREBUCHETS! THEY REQUIRE CALIBRATIONS! NEGOTIATIONS? I THINK YOU MEAN THREATS! LET US SHOW OUR FORCES! //Â Â @praeceptore-m

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@winterfollows:Â "Tsk, Geralt. Are you talking over the poor lad's HEAD again?"
âMm. Give him a little credit. The dear commanderâs got his HANDS full, wouldnât you agree?â
@praeceptore-m
for @praeceptore-m || who never writes replies xD
The ornate yoke around Dorianâs shoulders is a heavy thing, a ceremonial monstrosity of gold and gemstones and whispers of silk. The robes he wears are equally oppressive: an endless black, opaque, obscuring, draped over his body, wrapped over the lower half of his face. His eyes are rimmed in kohl and crushed garnets; his hands are weighed down with gauntlets that match the yoke, that make it difficult to lift his arms, that make it impossible to move without the clink of metal plates and the tinkling clack of ornamentation.
He catches sight of himself, briefly, in a mirror: between the headdress and the veil, he is unrecognisable, an anonymous figurehead cast in onyx and might.
Dorianâs grey eyes are the only visible human element, and they are half-obscured by the shadows cast by the gold plating that covers his forehead.
The yoke of the Archon is a heavy thing, and it is heavy with history, with symbolism, with hate.
Dorian inhales to steady himself. Someone passes him a staff--a snake, black as death, its eyes twin diamonds each the size of an almond--and he feels his gauntleted hand wrap around it numbly.
The Archon is a heavy thing.
The hall was thick with incense, with resin, with the smoke of thousands of black candles. Dorian wondered if his dizziness was due to the irony of this moment or the lack of air.
The Imperial Divine had droned on for what felt like aeons, his voice a rhythmic, monotonous backdrop to this surreal hellscape. But as abruptly as the blessing had begun, it had finally ended--a good four hours after its inception, if the candles were anything to go by.
âBring forth the Archonâs Shield,â the Divine commanded, and Dorian arched a hidden eyebrow. What use did a mage have for--
There was the unmistakable sound of heavy, armoured footfalls on marble, and Dorianâs eyes widened.
âĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Send one for party banter from: || ACCEPTING
Cullen: Do you ever miss Kirkwall?Orsino: Yes.Cullen: I wasnât expecting that answer. Or any answer, to be honest.Orsino: I miss how it used to be.Cullen: You of all people should know it wasnât anything to be missed.Orsino: At least my people were still alive.
Cullen: Iâm starting to get the impression you donât like me.Orsino: Only starting to?Cullen: It was a joke.
Orsino: If youâre the Inquisitionâs military adviser, can I be its arcane adviser?Cullen: All due respect, no. There is no need of one.Orsino: Ah, but I meet the requirement! Itâs a position I donât deserve.
Cullen: Orsino, you should consider yourself a lucky man.Orsino: The only lucky person here is you. My life, itâs not luck. If it must be, then itâs bad luck. Cullen: You could be dead.Orsino: [short and bitter laugh]Orsino: This? This is no life. It never was.
Cullen: One of Lelianaâs agents had told me that you hadnât left your chambers for three days.Orsino: No need to. Didnât want your templars breathing down my neck anyways. Itâs unbearable. You should tell them to be less obvious.Cullen: My templars? Orsino. Believe me when I say I gave no orders for you to be harassed. Iâm not turning the Inquisition into another Circle for you.Orsino: I donât believe you. Cullen: Did you even talk to these âtemplarsâ? Did they talk to you? Orsino: I donât believe you. Cullen: ⌠Iâll see if Josephine can find someone for you to talk to.Orsino: About what? Why?Cullen: For your own sanity and well-being.
Orsino: I heard you stopped taking lyrium. Cullen: Of course you did.Orsino: I approve of your decision. The Chantry does not define you. Donât let it be the chains holding you down. Lyrium is just another tie that needs to be cut. Cullen: Ohâ well, thank you.Orsino: Youâre resilient, youâll survive. You better.
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          It wasn't odd to see Templars in and out of the Chantry at nearly all hours, so as late as it was it was fairly common. Still, Sebastian had noticed this particular one a number of times as of late, and wasn't quite sure he knew his name yet.Â
          He wandered up behind the man, clearing his throat gently to let him know he was there before he greeted him,  â good evening, Ser. I hope the day has treated you well. â

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starter call || @praeceptore-m
âHeeeeeeey,â Hawke said, letting himself into Cullenâs tower--and what was he, a fucking princess now?--and sitting on the edge of his desk, because that stack of papers didnât look as important as his ass. âSo this is where youâve been hiding.â
It was almost like Cullen wasnât thrilled to see him, which, to be fair, was actually a little strange. Theyâd always been chummy back in Kirkwall; hell, Cullen had practically had to put on blinders to ignore an apostate solving all his problems, but what else was new?
âApparently youâre needed down with the troops because they donât listen to anyone else,â he said, crunching his way into an apple heâd pilfered from the kitchens. âSo that hasnât changed.â
The random thought prompt symbol // I'm on mobile rip
Ď random thoughts | not accepting
Cullenâs hand comes to rest upon the hilt of his blade and Solasâs blood runs cold. No steel is drawn, no threat is made, and he can see how the Commanderâs hands shake when left idle. He recognises it for what it is: a coping method meant to cloak a shameful tic, but he cannot help the repressed shiver that snakes up his spine. He knows that should the Comander ever draw that sword, Solas would be at his mercy.
đ // talk shit abt me cosmic latte, I am ready <3
positivity !
i feel like iâm going to get struck by lightning since iâve not yet properly written anything with you and i feel like we should already have eight thousand things because we made a blood pact while you slept and we are now brothers. blood magic ooOooo!Â
anyway so like iâm fuckinâ trash for cullen and iâve known this since the wee days of playing origins and iâd intentionally make get that templarâs ears red ( he is a fast boi tho u gotta be quick ) and iâve not played much of origins but ? i do just ... adore him so much ?
and youâre such a fuckinâ good in this community itâs a blessing. i love our shitposting together and sailor moon and cosmic lattes will never be the same bc of you and thatâs for the better and honestly thank u for being part of my rpc experience for da because itâs been mcfuckinâ worth it andÂ
we need to write soon bc youâre spectacular tbh. as a person, as a writer, as a shitposter and as one who has decided to take cullen into your arms and write him the beautiful way you do --- you say youâre satan, i say challenge accepted time to usurp your throne, buddy. always and forever, xoxo gossip anders.Â
p.s. i still canât say your urlÂ