05-14-2020, 02:41 PM
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
This is where a hole rips in his costume. He doesn’t possess the same empathy as the others or even the same level of concern that riddles their voices. Castile is steady, his reactions fairly level. He offers an explanation of recent events, but he has no emotional ties to weaken his stance or darken his eyes. There is an uprising, a challenge, but nothing has come to fruition as of yet. Elio was outnumbered, his support and claim to the throne weakened by the resistance. Castile, admittedly, found pleasure in the situation because he has been in one similar. He knows the frustration that likely coursed through the boy’s body; yet, for some reason, it provided Castile relief that such disputes happen across the world and not just to him.
Despite having come into the drama, Castile wasn’t as affected as the rest.
Ruthless, appropriately named, narrows on him begrudgingly for his apathy. Tilting his head sideways in curiosity, Castile reads the agitated lines of her face before piecing together a king enough response that would be entirely opposite of his norm. Rocky is an amiable fellow – not volatile, not arrogant – and Castile portrays it seamlessly as he frowns solemnly in response to her. ”I’m too new to have played a side. Nash invited me, and unfortunately, my introduction was that fiasco,” the ways his brows stitch together perfectly compliment the regretful frown that deepens. ”I’m still trying to learn names. I saw Owin during that gathering, but there weren’t many cordial introductions happening at the time.” A flicker of the lightest humor flashes across his brown eyes. It dims almost as quickly as it showed because he anticipates her tolerance of jokes to be non-existent.
Clearing his throat, he shifts the focus away from himself, his intrigue piqued by her biting tones and obvious passion and concern for Taiga. ”How long have you lived here, Ruthless?” Most likely since childhood, he thinks to himself while basking in their gazes as they try understanding this new Taigan.
Despite having come into the drama, Castile wasn’t as affected as the rest.
Ruthless, appropriately named, narrows on him begrudgingly for his apathy. Tilting his head sideways in curiosity, Castile reads the agitated lines of her face before piecing together a king enough response that would be entirely opposite of his norm. Rocky is an amiable fellow – not volatile, not arrogant – and Castile portrays it seamlessly as he frowns solemnly in response to her. ”I’m too new to have played a side. Nash invited me, and unfortunately, my introduction was that fiasco,” the ways his brows stitch together perfectly compliment the regretful frown that deepens. ”I’m still trying to learn names. I saw Owin during that gathering, but there weren’t many cordial introductions happening at the time.” A flicker of the lightest humor flashes across his brown eyes. It dims almost as quickly as it showed because he anticipates her tolerance of jokes to be non-existent.
Clearing his throat, he shifts the focus away from himself, his intrigue piqued by her biting tones and obvious passion and concern for Taiga. ”How long have you lived here, Ruthless?” Most likely since childhood, he thinks to himself while basking in their gazes as they try understanding this new Taigan.
castile
@[Owin] @[Ruthless]