gladiusknight

[gladiusknight]

inqunisitor:

"Hey Cullen, someone, not naming any names, might have unleashed monster bees when trying to figure out how to upgrade Sera’s bee grenade.  I mean how does it make any sense to stuff  blood lotus in a bottle and come out with bees?  Anyway, defending Skyhold from monster bees is your job."

Monster bees? Now why that rang a certain unwelcoming ting in his ears? Sera. Of course, it has to be Sera. There was a reason (or a few reasons, rather) as to why he did not want to take part in anything that was marked by crimson arrows bearing the words 'Red Jenny' on the few scattered requests across the war table, labeling them as simply-- Ridiculous. Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, awaiting for the headache to sink deeper in his skull.

"Inquisitor," he began, fighting the urge to rub his temples. "With all due respect, dealing with such incidents should be dealt solely with the ones responsible. Guard rotations have been established and our forces are on full alert if any danger surfaces. Unless it's your wish for me to deal with it personally."

[gladiusknight]

antivanambassador:

She took in the Commander’s surly expression, the upturned corners of his mouth, and the all-too-visible crease between his eyebrows.

        “I take it that the meeting with the Comte didn’t go well,” she commented wryly.

He had his narrowed amber stare somewhat studying the polished oak of his desk, thoughts swimming in between old regrets and odd realizations. He only lost his train of thought as soon as he heard a familiar voice from across the room. 

"--To be quite honest, I can't say that it did or if it was the other way around..." He paused, now shifting his attention to properly regard Josephine. "The Comte simply smiled at me, although rather, strangely."

gladiusknight

[gladiusknight]

im-a-bxstard:

"Cullen!  Long time no see!  I hear you were Knight-Captain in Kirkwall, is that right?"

"Yes, I was, but not any longer." He lets out a short laugh, more to humor himself than to humor the man before him. "It certainly has been a long while... Thank the Maker we're still here."

gladiusknight has been conscripted!

[gladiusknight]

necromanciies:

“Mage, he says, and spoken with such contempt! Unfortunately, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” Because him? Cheat? And what could possibly be next? Nugs sprouting wings and taking flight? How ridiculous. Coy and pitiless, Dorian moved his pawn. ”Are you certain? But it’s such a fond memory, one I remember in full clarity— Like that brilliant shade of red you got when Lady Josephine played you out of your drawers? Black, I recall, with scarlet hemming. Perhaps even maroon. It matched the color in your face - it suits you, by the way - and— Oh, don’t be modest. It’s a source of pride, not shame.”

Or perhaps a chess piece that would just vanish in thin air without any explanation? An easy check and mate?  He watched with careful eyes as his opponent made the first move, wary of anything suspicious. His fingers clutched harder at the ebony piece once Dorian decided to continue. Shade of red. Black. Scarlet hemming. Maroon-- Maker, preserve me. 

"I would highly suggest for you to drop anything regarding that certain matter," Cullen finally managed to place his pawn, one pace forward at the center. Pride or not, his focus shall remain unshaken."I believe it's now your turn."

[gladiusknight]

did you just compare me to a bunny.......

(Nervous laughter.) "Who would dare do such nonsense? Perish the thought."

[gladiusknight]

Cullen doing the things.

[gladiusknight]

fadecloaked:

It wasn’t that she didn’t listen to him. More like she didn’t listen to him on this particular subject. Alas, humans and their insistence on taking the right and proper route was lost on a Dalish who spent her life around finding the best and quickest ways to travel—for survival, convenience, and sometimes sport. If she was guiding an aravel, the restored ramparts would surely be her first choice. Or something.

"You’re ‘bothering' because you've realized I've yet to be given a tour of the new walkways, yes?” Alright, there’s a bit of guilt, now. Perhaps she’ll try the stairs.

The Inquisitor's welfare is as important as the lives of everyone that depended on it. She may have developed a habit of dodging on meeting the Maker in a lot of  ways up to this day; but Cullen knew she's not immortal and definitely does not have nine lives like that of a cat (or perhaps a bunny, in this case...). "A tour?" Maker, was that all she needed for him to do? He cleared his throat. "Oh. O-Of course. Should you become available, I'll be honored to conduct the tour myself."

[gladiusknight]

There is no great showing of generosity. She knows the Commander doesn't appreciate pomp and circumstance. And so she leaves a small, unassuming box atop his desk in his tower. Within is an assortment of sculpted marzapan lions and lionesses roaring and sleeping and stalking prey. On the box is a note: "Sweet lions for a sweet lion. -E"

He sighed as the walkway to his tower opened up, allowing him into the dimly lit interiors of his quarters. The faint scent of crystal grace blossoming at the first morning of winter still lingers in the air around him. He knew it was her. His eyes then fell at the breadth of his desk, a small plainly looking box in sight. And here I thought I made it clear I didn’t want anything…

His lips echoed the message, reading it a few more times. "Sweet lions for a sweet lion…" He tried to convince himself by prying his eyes more open to wake up on this unbelievably sweet dream only to find that he was already wide awake. Did she just call him a sweet lion? And when did it occur as common knowledge that he has a penchant for simple sugary confections? He was certain he did not make it as clear as day. Or did he?  No, it was not him—Josephine. He may have to tell her a few words later.Shaking his head to dismiss the thought, he now eyed at the family of lions and lionesses that scattered around the tiny wooden enclosure. Each were crafted very intricately, tiny masterpieces that looked as if they were real. In silence, he observed them in awe, taking note of the skilled artisan behind such beautiful crafts. Do they make puppies out of this, too, he wondered. With extreme caution, he picked up the one at the middle, the one showing its teeth as it roared, the one that wore a thicker and darker mane, the undeniably leader of its pack. He stared at it, its sweetness whiffed through his nostrils.It was too beautiful to consume.

[gladiusknight]

rxghthand:

A gift for the Commander. [ gladiusknight ]

         The Commander is selfless to a fault. Not that it’s much of a fault, given that he puts the welfare and training of the forces under his care first. It’s not that the Seeker doesn’t put much thought into what to send him, but rather that it’s obvious. Care for him, care for those he cares about.

Commander,

         Should the enchantments on the          armour prove to be adequate, the          smithy merely needs your word          to start work on upgrading the rest          of the Inquisition’s gear.

         Do try to keep from eating all of the          cookies yourself. I realize that may          be difficult given your inclination to          share.

        — Seeker Cassandra.

         It’s a simple matter to get one of his soldiers—they can choose among themselves for the honour—to take the runecrafted armour and box to Cullen’s office.

The same could be said about the Seeker's altruism, her dedication amid all the chaos. She came to him during his darkest times when he thought he'd never lay his eyes on the horizon, to see another sunrise. Cassandra had given him a new life, a new purpose and a chance to redeem himself. The Inquisition is another chapter in his life that he truly embraced and it would have been enough-- it should be. There was nothing more that he could ask for (maybe except some things mentioned on that Wintersend list) until he saw what greeted him in his office, catching him off guard.  He was relieved that he was alone.

He took the note in his hands, curious as to who it was from. His eyes shifted from left to right as he read her message. --Cassandra The eagerness that surged in him was unfathomable, hands unfastening the glinting armor that soaked the spread of sunlight from the dummy that wore it. Unmindful completely if it was still the middle of the day, he had stripped himself out of his own, the heavy sound of metal clanging underneath him. Carefully, he slipped in his new gear, latching it close to his skin. The smile on his face seemed to be glued, one that would genuinely take the place of his usual frown... at least for now.  It fit him perfectly. Naturally he would wonder how but he'd let it slide today. And after all, why would he? It would be such a great waste if it didn't. The feel of it was definitely a lot heavier and it would take him a few days to get used to. Such a price to pay for a thicker armor that was made to last through this very unkind winter. Better start as early as now. The cookies did not remain untouched as he popped open the container's lid, the inviting scent of butter and sugar lured him in an instant. It reminded him he has not eaten anything yet as he grabbed one, its crumbs spilling  in his fingers and he would clean them as he rubs it against his lips. Savoring every bit, the cookie lands finally on his tongue. It was remarkably delicious. Did she make them? Before Cassandra's warning leave his mind, he paused, grabbing a hold of his pen and a piece of paper...

Cassandra, You have already done so much for all our sakes and I don't think words could properly express how grateful I truly am.  I have faith in you and in our men's abilities. It would work. I'll make sure of it. You have my thanks, always. Cullen ____________________________________________________________ Your presence at the morning drills would be very much appreciated.

[gladiusknight]

The wine bottle winked faintly in the wash of sunlight, garnished with a ribbon and bow that coiled up along its base. It sat untouched beside the Commander's stack of papers (too many, of course), with a small card slipped underneath. Dorian's writing inked the back: Busy, I take it? When aren't you. Do us all a favor, and take just a second for yourself. Enjoy it with wine, and perhaps even company. I'd be insulted if I wasn't invited--I'm quite the pleasure. Happy Wintersend -- D. Pavus.

The moment he stepped inside his office, he already knew something was off as he was blinded by the shine somewhere at his desk. He didn’t remember his desk being shiny. As far as he could recall, it was as cluttered as he preferred it to be— not shiny. If anything, his desk was an utter mess, decorated by stacks of documents and emptied bottles of generic liquor. The kind his throat and his taste buds were accustomed to. Intrigued and slightly puzzled footsteps marched onward. The more he approached, the more it made itself clear. It was without a doubt an expensive bottle of wine just by looking at how the text on its label swirled and curved stylishly. The way the ribbon adorned elaborately around its base only accentuated its elegance further. Josephine? Vivienne? Or—He then pulled out the card, the penmanship echoing the message clearly in his thoughts as he read it, a grin touching his lips. Without even finishing the flow of text, he already knew who it was from— Dorian. Of course, who else? 

Perhaps he’d save it for later and possibly share it with someone as they play the game of chess or perhaps… He glanced back at the slender body of the glass bottle, succumbing to its call as he opened it and poured some of the rose liquid into his cup.And not a single paperwork was finished that day.

[gladiusknight]

Your concern is appreciated all the same, Commander.

Cullen rolled the cloth, arching a brow. Perhaps it was not her manner of walking but something to do with all the jumping and the leaping that made him utterly concerned for her. It was not in the purest of his intentions to offend her. He respects her. He cares for her (and the poor loyal men of Skyhold that would catch the debris that would fall with her as she lands). "I’d certainly live to see for that day to come." Whenever that ‘some point’ would be.

[gladiusknight]

OH YES

"A message from Lady Cassandra, Comander." His eyes didn't leave the paper in his hands. "What is it this time?""I... don't know. I did not dare open it, Ser.""All right. Carry on."Flipping the note open to reveal its contents, his attention now undivided, the Seeker's handwriting spoke literally to him as it boomed against the off-white parchment.  "Oh yes-- what?" And the mystery shall lull him to sleep as he struggles in his bed tonight.

[gladiusknight]

fadecloaked:

Was the reconstruction to her liking? It was to everyone else’s, certainly. But before answering, Khaliya hopped down to the landing below. A quicker path—in her mind, at least—to reach Cullen.

"It looks quite lovely! I haven’t had the pleasure of trying it out yet, but I’ve heard good things."

Truly, no one ever listens to him.

And he had watched her leap down from the ramparts as quick as a hare. Perhaps it's the right time to ask the Maker that none of the soldiers would imitate such daring manner to perform instead of using the stairs.  "It wasn't restored just for display--" He exhaled, sharply. "Uh, no, never mind. I don't know why I'm bothering."

[gladiusknight]

fadecloaked:

"Wait, I can explain."

She hadn’t meant to toss a large drift of snow off the battlements. Not intentionally, at least. She’s only going to hope that there wasn’t some unlucky soul walking by as it fell.

"Merely an accident, see?"

-- SPLAT!!

Alerted, Cullen turned and watched the ball of snow splattered and slid lazily down his shoulder. Dusting the white powder remnants off, he now angled his head towards the direction of her voice. "And a good day to you too, Inquisitor. I hope the reconstruction is to your liking."

[gladiusknight]

"A list for Wintersend? You make such lists for Wintersend?" "Uh-- Yes, Ser. It may contain things such as asking a person to smile or um, toasts and jellied ham." "So a list for odd requests? This sounds ridiculous." "Yes, I mean, no, Commander. I'm sure you'll come up with something. Lady Josephine would need them by tomorrow." "Well tell her I refuse." "By tomorrow, Commander." After the doors had closed behind Carol, one of the couriers, Cullen sat alone in his desk, obscured by the sunlight that reflected against his armor. He glanced down at the spread of polished oak, and his vision quickly lost their focus under a sea of papers and half-opened scrolls. Clearing his throat, he picked up a pen and a sheet of paper. He stared at it for a long while, his mind swimming in thoughts between asking a person to smile and toasts and jellied ham... 

For Cassandra to partake in the morning drills. Please stop asking. Craft more shields as part of Iron Bull's training exercises. We can't afford to lose any for our men's use. Reminders posted that says not to jump over the wall walks, addressed to the Inquisitor. Josephine, the coat was fine and I liked it. You may now stop sending one of Leliana's spies to take my measurements.  Thicker armor, cold resistant preferably, for all our soldiers. Boar stew and butter cookies for everyone to share. A brigade of Griffons.

He sighed, folding the paper in half, "I don't know why I'm bothering..."

[gladiusknight]

[gladiusknight]

pavusarcanus:

"Rumors say that you’re not human, Commander."

Dorian stood in the doorway of Cullen’s office, leaning against the door frame. He’d never been in here despite how close it was to his usual haunting grounds in Skyhold. This night was a quiet one, however, with the Inquisitor and some of their comrades gone. Nothing of note happening in these wee hours, the mage took to traveling the battlements and ended up here.

And he couldn’t just ask Cullen why he was awake so late. That would be far too normal, far too dull.

"The soldiers say you never sleep and that they can hear your sigh of disappointment in their minds every time they fail to block a strike or raise their shield high enough."

Staying up all night as he goes through a previous mission's protocol paperwork was a default exercise Cullen pours himself into. And tonight was no different. He only took notice of the presence by the door when the ink in his pen blotted, a dark golden brow peeking up from the edge of the parchment to acknowledge the voice of a certain mage that reached his ears. He went all the way here just to confirm a rumor? It only earned his standard-issued scowl as he sighed, and it was audible enough to fill the empty space between them.

"I am not always present during their drills. I suppose it's only a sign--" The image in his head was a difficult picture. A loud sigh of disappointment would not have been sufficient, if that was the case. "--that they are taking what I teach them to heart as I expected of them and as they should be." He paused, fingers now cupping his chin in thought as he whispered to himself. "Perhaps the order for Ser Ryan to jog in full armor around Skyhold's perimeter for three hundred and thirty-six repetitions a bit too much..." 

Or inhuman as the soldiers have declared if Dorian's statement were true.

gladiusknight