and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
He has only been here a brief time, the proposition of a rank having lured him from the disaster on the Island.
Volatile, hungry, wild. There is no stopping him.
Fueled by what he is, and still considerably young, Castile dives into reckless behavior with eyes purposefully focused on the wealth and power he has never before had. Drunk on it, he pushes onward. Tiphon’s blood coated his lips and the crown that sat atop his head berthed something precarious within him. He wants – needs – more. General was what he had been initially offered, but then it escalated into something so much more, so much greater.
Another crown sits atop his head, but it isn’t enough to settle him just yet. The Resort still lingers at the edges of his thoughts, taunting him. A low growl reverberates through him, but with the crack of a nearby twig, Castile silences himself and looks toward the rocky hills. It has been years since he called Loess home, and the time had been brief as Lepis matured from a gangly child to a young adult. Yet here he is again. The landscape is easily enough recalled – he had memorized it those years ago – and he scales the knolls and rocky outcroppings until her face comes into view. They do not know each other, but her body reeks of both Loess and Vulgaris, and that is reason enough to find her.
”Tell me,” his voice crawls past his lips, nearly reptilian in nature as he takes his place in front of her, ”whose idea was it to stir some life back in Beqanna?” Seize the healers, he had eventually overheard from a conversation. It piqued his interest because already he dragged Tiphon into the embrace of Loess. He has already utilized the angel to help suppress the plague’s symptoms. His coughing has silenced and the fever has diminished. Strength returns to his bones, fire back into his soul.
Blinking, his eyes shifting back and forth between reptile and mammal, he grins. ”And do you still have that same ambition, even with a new King?”
Volatile, hungry, wild. There is no stopping him.
Fueled by what he is, and still considerably young, Castile dives into reckless behavior with eyes purposefully focused on the wealth and power he has never before had. Drunk on it, he pushes onward. Tiphon’s blood coated his lips and the crown that sat atop his head berthed something precarious within him. He wants – needs – more. General was what he had been initially offered, but then it escalated into something so much more, so much greater.
Another crown sits atop his head, but it isn’t enough to settle him just yet. The Resort still lingers at the edges of his thoughts, taunting him. A low growl reverberates through him, but with the crack of a nearby twig, Castile silences himself and looks toward the rocky hills. It has been years since he called Loess home, and the time had been brief as Lepis matured from a gangly child to a young adult. Yet here he is again. The landscape is easily enough recalled – he had memorized it those years ago – and he scales the knolls and rocky outcroppings until her face comes into view. They do not know each other, but her body reeks of both Loess and Vulgaris, and that is reason enough to find her.
”Tell me,” his voice crawls past his lips, nearly reptilian in nature as he takes his place in front of her, ”whose idea was it to stir some life back in Beqanna?” Seize the healers, he had eventually overheard from a conversation. It piqued his interest because already he dragged Tiphon into the embrace of Loess. He has already utilized the angel to help suppress the plague’s symptoms. His coughing has silenced and the fever has diminished. Strength returns to his bones, fire back into his soul.
Blinking, his eyes shifting back and forth between reptile and mammal, he grins. ”And do you still have that same ambition, even with a new King?”
castile