02-26-2019, 09:48 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
Her smirk is a reassuring – rather, delighting – thing to see when he considers her the mastermind. In fact, Starsin appears to have been the puppeteer while Vulgaris the puppet. Loess was steering into the direction she wanted, but change hurled her off course. How much does it irritate her to see another man – one outside of her control – with the crown placed upon his brow? Surely, she doesn’t want the power and title thrusted onto her, but she wants influence – she still wants her name carved into the history books.
A shadowed grin upturns the edges of his mouth when she echoes his name, tasting it like it’s made of the finest wine. It tickles her lips. It lures her closer and he can nearly feel her fingers thumbing through his thoughts (it had happened once before, but the intrusion was violent, untamed). She is a far more delicate presence, but by no means faint. There is power and strength in the glittering of her eyes when they meet his. It isn’t the same as what he has – what he is. Starsin is the mind, Castile the brawn.
What can he do, she asks, and his muscles quiver with anticipation. There is so much that he can do, that he has done, but silence envelopes him as he creeps another step closer, willing her to touch him as she so nearly does. Her warm breath glides across his skin and stirs the creature that curls in his gut. His eyes narrow slightly, fleetingly, when she recoils and confesses her secret. An attribute, is what he considers her, but then wonders how many blocked minds she has encountered. His mother would be one. Are there other leaders – other chess pieces – in their world that can stump her? An amused rumble resonates through his body – somehow predatory even in its purr – as he remains unmoving from where she left him. ”Have you not yet read my mind to see what I am?” His head inclines, his gaze intensifies. ”Would it frighten you?” He doubts it. Castile has never striven to cast a shadow of fear, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t accepted what he is.
He has since learned to embrace his nature.
”What can I do?” He recalls while blinking and looking away toward the mountain range. Answers churn and he almost admits, point blank, what he can do, but then he takes pause and reconsiders. Looking at her again, he replies with a languid, nonchalant tone that complements his confession. ”I can kill without remorse,” he remembers Klaudius, ”I can bring life and havoc at once,” the Island Resort, ”and I can be a King and guardian.” Loess. Fatherhood.
Admittedly, he can be many things.
A shadowed grin upturns the edges of his mouth when she echoes his name, tasting it like it’s made of the finest wine. It tickles her lips. It lures her closer and he can nearly feel her fingers thumbing through his thoughts (it had happened once before, but the intrusion was violent, untamed). She is a far more delicate presence, but by no means faint. There is power and strength in the glittering of her eyes when they meet his. It isn’t the same as what he has – what he is. Starsin is the mind, Castile the brawn.
What can he do, she asks, and his muscles quiver with anticipation. There is so much that he can do, that he has done, but silence envelopes him as he creeps another step closer, willing her to touch him as she so nearly does. Her warm breath glides across his skin and stirs the creature that curls in his gut. His eyes narrow slightly, fleetingly, when she recoils and confesses her secret. An attribute, is what he considers her, but then wonders how many blocked minds she has encountered. His mother would be one. Are there other leaders – other chess pieces – in their world that can stump her? An amused rumble resonates through his body – somehow predatory even in its purr – as he remains unmoving from where she left him. ”Have you not yet read my mind to see what I am?” His head inclines, his gaze intensifies. ”Would it frighten you?” He doubts it. Castile has never striven to cast a shadow of fear, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t accepted what he is.
He has since learned to embrace his nature.
”What can I do?” He recalls while blinking and looking away toward the mountain range. Answers churn and he almost admits, point blank, what he can do, but then he takes pause and reconsiders. Looking at her again, he replies with a languid, nonchalant tone that complements his confession. ”I can kill without remorse,” he remembers Klaudius, ”I can bring life and havoc at once,” the Island Resort, ”and I can be a King and guardian.” Loess. Fatherhood.
Admittedly, he can be many things.
castile
@[Starsin]