02-28-2020, 02:57 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
Oceane is a riptide, drawing Castile’s fury into her belly, digesting it, embracing it. She peers up at him with hardened eyes and with a wild heart. The swirling wind from underneath his wings whips past, tousling her locks to match the ferocity of her soul. Their child is gone, their precious Alcinder, and beneath their rage lies an unbearable hurt that he is precariously in the grasp of brainless minions. They dance in the shadows like cowards, preying on children in their hunt for unrest.
Surely, they will pay.
Castile knows of them, has memorized Clarissa’s freakish consort, and has drawn in the scent of the other plundering boy. Their smells thread into Castile’s anger, triggering emotional responses that he cannot rein in. He wants to rip them, to spill their blood across the Loessian canyons and hurl their corpses into the sea where they will be lost for eternity. They assume themselves safe, freed from repercussions as they cower beneath the shadows of their Queen. A funny thing it is, but Castile does not exhibit signs of the humor found in the image. Impassive, except for the malicious gleam in his eyes, the draconic king lowers his head to Oceane’s height. His stained teeth stare at her as a low rumble crawls the length of his body. ”Yes,” he says curtly as his memory reflects on them, ”I will find him.” Because it has been him that seeks the same victims with a one-tracked mind.
Shifting his weight – rocks crumble away and down the hill – Castile circles her. Nose to the tip his tail, he rings around Oceane as though shielding her from the outside world. ”I’m sorry,” he murmurs into the stillness between them, his gaze leveling onto her and just barely softening as his thoughts – his true self – rises within him. ”Again, a child of mine goes missing,” first it was Niklas, and now Alcinder. Though he tries to be a father, the world seemingly enjoys stressing him and pulling him from his life’s goals.
Even now, he thought he had it all with Sochi, but temptation steered him from her arms and into Oceane’s.
Surely, they will pay.
Castile knows of them, has memorized Clarissa’s freakish consort, and has drawn in the scent of the other plundering boy. Their smells thread into Castile’s anger, triggering emotional responses that he cannot rein in. He wants to rip them, to spill their blood across the Loessian canyons and hurl their corpses into the sea where they will be lost for eternity. They assume themselves safe, freed from repercussions as they cower beneath the shadows of their Queen. A funny thing it is, but Castile does not exhibit signs of the humor found in the image. Impassive, except for the malicious gleam in his eyes, the draconic king lowers his head to Oceane’s height. His stained teeth stare at her as a low rumble crawls the length of his body. ”Yes,” he says curtly as his memory reflects on them, ”I will find him.” Because it has been him that seeks the same victims with a one-tracked mind.
Shifting his weight – rocks crumble away and down the hill – Castile circles her. Nose to the tip his tail, he rings around Oceane as though shielding her from the outside world. ”I’m sorry,” he murmurs into the stillness between them, his gaze leveling onto her and just barely softening as his thoughts – his true self – rises within him. ”Again, a child of mine goes missing,” first it was Niklas, and now Alcinder. Though he tries to be a father, the world seemingly enjoys stressing him and pulling him from his life’s goals.
Even now, he thought he had it all with Sochi, but temptation steered him from her arms and into Oceane’s.
castile
@[Oceane]