11-08-2019, 07:23 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
It may have been wrong of him to assume that she has never been to Pangea, that she is oblivious to customs and it’s location, but it provides slivers of conversation where silence would otherwise reign. Nimue humors him though, following in suit as they eventually arrive to the familiar border. Her comment elicits a grin and curious glint in his metallic eyes. There are many secrets in Pangea, many tales that span the length of the canyons. He knows only of a few, never having dived in its history except for what is common knowledge and what reptiles have whispered in their passing.
The land that once belonged to a God, the dark God.
But Castile isn’t keen on ghost stories.
Before he can mutter anything in return to Nimue, the shadows around them curl and dance, reminding him of fire without light. Fascination bleeds across his face, as he doesn’t attempt to mask it, providing the owner an open display of himself. He grins then, a lopsided and amused expression that puckers the scars of war. ”Fancy trick, Anaxarete,” he admits playfully upon hearing her name and watching her appear from the rippling, dark mass. It reminds him of Litotes, another shadow bender, but there is something unique about her, something different. His mind gropes interestedly for reasons of this all while his gaze traces along her placidity.
Resigning for the moment, her offers an introduction with a tone to mirror her own. ”I’m Castile, and this is Nimue Isolde,” a small kindle awakens in his gut, another sign that soon his sentence will end, soon he will truly be himself again. The tease of his own body poses as a flickering distraction before he casually adds, ”From Loess,” and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Beneath her hooded scrutiny, he is at ease and assured despite the inkling that she is more powerful than she appears. He has no ill will, no treacherous plans, unless curiosity is manning the gate into that unsettling territory. ”Is it safe to assume you’re the newly-risen Queen?” He remembers how the other kingdoms flocked to Loess to rest their eyes on the ascended dragon king. Obediently, he fed them knowledge they craved while still clutching to his chest intimate details. They need not know his full intentions – not then, not now.
”I was bombarded with envoys when I first gained the throne, so I thought I would return the favor, especially to the fabled mother of monsters,” a flickering glance finds Nimue, curious as to whether she has heard the same, curious if fear chills her veins, as a smirk smears across his mouth.
The land that once belonged to a God, the dark God.
But Castile isn’t keen on ghost stories.
Before he can mutter anything in return to Nimue, the shadows around them curl and dance, reminding him of fire without light. Fascination bleeds across his face, as he doesn’t attempt to mask it, providing the owner an open display of himself. He grins then, a lopsided and amused expression that puckers the scars of war. ”Fancy trick, Anaxarete,” he admits playfully upon hearing her name and watching her appear from the rippling, dark mass. It reminds him of Litotes, another shadow bender, but there is something unique about her, something different. His mind gropes interestedly for reasons of this all while his gaze traces along her placidity.
Resigning for the moment, her offers an introduction with a tone to mirror her own. ”I’m Castile, and this is Nimue Isolde,” a small kindle awakens in his gut, another sign that soon his sentence will end, soon he will truly be himself again. The tease of his own body poses as a flickering distraction before he casually adds, ”From Loess,” and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Beneath her hooded scrutiny, he is at ease and assured despite the inkling that she is more powerful than she appears. He has no ill will, no treacherous plans, unless curiosity is manning the gate into that unsettling territory. ”Is it safe to assume you’re the newly-risen Queen?” He remembers how the other kingdoms flocked to Loess to rest their eyes on the ascended dragon king. Obediently, he fed them knowledge they craved while still clutching to his chest intimate details. They need not know his full intentions – not then, not now.
”I was bombarded with envoys when I first gained the throne, so I thought I would return the favor, especially to the fabled mother of monsters,” a flickering glance finds Nimue, curious as to whether she has heard the same, curious if fear chills her veins, as a smirk smears across his mouth.
castile
@[Nimue Isolde] @[Anaxarete]