10-18-2019, 10:03 AM
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
They arrive, one by one, and Castile’s eyes narrow in skepticism as his gaze sweeps across the stoicism they emanate. This must be it, his thoughts reel feverishly. Mother was eventually betrayed and this, now, must be his moment.
Even as Litotes begins with friendly jubilance, it’s returned with a forced smile and silence as Castile waits patiently for the first to shatter the eerie calm blanketing their group. Eyes dart among each other warily, and it appears that Heartfire is the ringleader. ”My sister,” he enforces sternly, ”is more inclined toward diplomacy. I won’t stop a curious mind.” Cyprin returns his comment with a soft smile that just barely reaches the corners of her eyes before dissipating as the tension thickens. Unfortunately, Castile doesn’t take notice how she softens toward him as his attention tunnels on the Nerinian Queen, listening to her drawling statement. ”Seeing as you’re here, I imagine it isn’t to party.” Even with humor woven into his words, the quip abruptly clips at the end as his gut roils with mistrust. The others, excluding their children, are – were – friends, but his relationship with Heartfire has balanced on a tight rope since his ascension to the Loessian throne.
Unfortunately, it seems that she has sunken her claws into Castile’s friendships, retracting them from his grasp and influence so that they may accompany her here. She is the dog, and they her fleas. They leap into why they are here, their muscles stiff with anticipation.
And Castile laughs.
The noise is at first boisterous and it rumbles like a rock from the Cliffside, startling even Cyprin. She looks up at him, then to Ghaul and Meraki, somehow reassured to have young bystanders nearby. But Castile gradually quiets and shifts his body weight to allow a hind leg to casually recline. ”What am I doing with Taiga? I’ve never even visited that forest. Since you seem to know more than me, please, tell me exactly what I am doing with it.” His voice raises slightly, his eyes darkening beneath his frustration. He sees that Litotes is uncomfortable, and yet he is the one breaching the topic, dancing across the questions because they all are aware of Castile’s volatile personality.
”I’m flattered that you brought an entourage, Heartfire, rather than facing me alone,” an amused smirk peels apart his lips as a brow lifts. ”Whether you realize it or not, it tells me a lot about you,” but he does not dwell on her, no. He does not elaborate or feed her the thoughts that sink into the crevices of his mind.
His eyes hold them all, piercing into them like polished knives as they stand unwelcomed at Loess’ border. ”I’m loyal to my friends and family,” is all he says, but he realizes that his sense of loyalty could be to a disastrous fault. Castile has quieted, but the underlying prowess lathers and foams, coating the passive-aggressive hit against them as they stand alongside the offended queen (why else would she be here, blaming him, when her position is attacked?). His words stab them, goring them, as they take sides with Heartfire against a friend – now, it appears, a former friend. Without so much of a word, they’ve rolled over to expose their vulnerable bellies to the woman, losing all sense of strength that Castile respected and applauded them for. Their powerful alliances are aflame, all because of their fickle allegiances.
In a matter of seconds, the relationships are in shambles at Castile’s feet, but he merely sweeps them aside without regret.
Licking his lips, he cannot help to look again at Heartfire, still bemused. ”From the small details that I’ve heard, I imagine you refused Lepis and her plans, but I would like to know why? Rumor has it that Taiga is far more fruitful nowadays than Nerine, but I know how things can be misconstrued through the grapevine.” He searches her face. He is not asking, but demanding. ”Tell me why you would refuse a peaceful shift of power – that does not involve your removal as a leader - and instead come to my gate boasting...” his eyes nonchalantly regard Vulgaris and Litotes, ”…Tephra and Pangea’s strength, and threatening me in my own home?” It needn’t be said outright. Their arrival details enough – confronting him with a group of five – and yet even under their leading questions, Castile remains steadfast and uncomfortably calm.
Even as Litotes begins with friendly jubilance, it’s returned with a forced smile and silence as Castile waits patiently for the first to shatter the eerie calm blanketing their group. Eyes dart among each other warily, and it appears that Heartfire is the ringleader. ”My sister,” he enforces sternly, ”is more inclined toward diplomacy. I won’t stop a curious mind.” Cyprin returns his comment with a soft smile that just barely reaches the corners of her eyes before dissipating as the tension thickens. Unfortunately, Castile doesn’t take notice how she softens toward him as his attention tunnels on the Nerinian Queen, listening to her drawling statement. ”Seeing as you’re here, I imagine it isn’t to party.” Even with humor woven into his words, the quip abruptly clips at the end as his gut roils with mistrust. The others, excluding their children, are – were – friends, but his relationship with Heartfire has balanced on a tight rope since his ascension to the Loessian throne.
Unfortunately, it seems that she has sunken her claws into Castile’s friendships, retracting them from his grasp and influence so that they may accompany her here. She is the dog, and they her fleas. They leap into why they are here, their muscles stiff with anticipation.
And Castile laughs.
The noise is at first boisterous and it rumbles like a rock from the Cliffside, startling even Cyprin. She looks up at him, then to Ghaul and Meraki, somehow reassured to have young bystanders nearby. But Castile gradually quiets and shifts his body weight to allow a hind leg to casually recline. ”What am I doing with Taiga? I’ve never even visited that forest. Since you seem to know more than me, please, tell me exactly what I am doing with it.” His voice raises slightly, his eyes darkening beneath his frustration. He sees that Litotes is uncomfortable, and yet he is the one breaching the topic, dancing across the questions because they all are aware of Castile’s volatile personality.
”I’m flattered that you brought an entourage, Heartfire, rather than facing me alone,” an amused smirk peels apart his lips as a brow lifts. ”Whether you realize it or not, it tells me a lot about you,” but he does not dwell on her, no. He does not elaborate or feed her the thoughts that sink into the crevices of his mind.
His eyes hold them all, piercing into them like polished knives as they stand unwelcomed at Loess’ border. ”I’m loyal to my friends and family,” is all he says, but he realizes that his sense of loyalty could be to a disastrous fault. Castile has quieted, but the underlying prowess lathers and foams, coating the passive-aggressive hit against them as they stand alongside the offended queen (why else would she be here, blaming him, when her position is attacked?). His words stab them, goring them, as they take sides with Heartfire against a friend – now, it appears, a former friend. Without so much of a word, they’ve rolled over to expose their vulnerable bellies to the woman, losing all sense of strength that Castile respected and applauded them for. Their powerful alliances are aflame, all because of their fickle allegiances.
In a matter of seconds, the relationships are in shambles at Castile’s feet, but he merely sweeps them aside without regret.
Licking his lips, he cannot help to look again at Heartfire, still bemused. ”From the small details that I’ve heard, I imagine you refused Lepis and her plans, but I would like to know why? Rumor has it that Taiga is far more fruitful nowadays than Nerine, but I know how things can be misconstrued through the grapevine.” He searches her face. He is not asking, but demanding. ”Tell me why you would refuse a peaceful shift of power – that does not involve your removal as a leader - and instead come to my gate boasting...” his eyes nonchalantly regard Vulgaris and Litotes, ”…Tephra and Pangea’s strength, and threatening me in my own home?” It needn’t be said outright. Their arrival details enough – confronting him with a group of five – and yet even under their leading questions, Castile remains steadfast and uncomfortably calm.
castile
@[Heartfire] @[vulgaris] @[litotes]