"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
02-05-2019, 10:43 AM (This post was last modified: 02-05-2019, 10:45 AM by Castile.)
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
How ironic that they end up here together, outcast and unwanted by the Resort. She is a prisoner, he corrects himself thoughtfully as his eyes flicker across the hills to see her wandering. Cress, he vaguely remembers. Like Tiphon, she took refuge on the island and promptly began healing but even that assistance wasn’t enough for the populace to take her side. They scorned her attempt to take control and take head of them. What group remained on the Island are fools, and they have unknowingly doomed themselves. In the snap of a finger, they turned against not one but two of their own.
There isn’t a civilization that can survive with such a poor foundation.
With having witnessed, and listened, to much of the conversation and protest, Castile stored it away for easy keeping. It surfaces now, however, as he seemingly glides across the hills and around a final shrub to reach her. Hungrily, his eyes trace the edges of her face. His own expresses more amusement than anything else, but his blood still boils with fire from when they first saw each other. ”Well, well, well,” he croons, snake-like in manner, ”Fancy seeing you here, Cress.” While she had initially opposed his ascension, she crumbled with the rejection of her personal nomination with a harsh tongue. As a second thought, she supported Castile’s claim. Much to his dismay, it wasn’t enough to take control of the island permanently; such a brief reign.
But alas, things happen for a reason.
Castile arrived to Loess with the promise of taking place as a General, but the promise was replaced by something greater. With no questions asked, he agreed to take Loess for his own.
A lopsided grin softens the chiseled edges of his face, his eyes narrowing beneath his forelock to observe her and search for a reaction to his arrival. ”A bunch of idiots there, no?” His neck arches and a low growl echoes through his core. He doesn’t need to reiterate where he is referring; Cress is quick – she will know. ”They turned their backs to you, too,” he reminds her painfully and sinks poison into her thoughts, ”so perhaps you should stay here where you will find acceptance instead of being tossed aside for your efforts.” He shrugs and shuffles his wings against his sides. ”Just a thought.”
like a house on fire we're up in flames; i'd burn here if that's what it takes
She doesn’t want to be here; as a matter of fact, she’d much rather be at home in the Resort, helping them with their desperate power struggle and proving to them that she is worth their loyalty. They may not have chosen her as their leader – it was a landslide victory by Wallace – but she is loyal to their land until the very end. It has taken her a long time to fall back in love – with the Resort, with its people, and with herself. She isn’t willing to give that up so easily, no matter if they all think she’s a traitor for wanting to swing the vote Castile’s way. He would’ve made an excellent leader, if only they had given him the chance.
Loess, so far, is anything but boring, she has to admit. Her father is here, with three little ones of his own that he seems to be doing most of the caring for, which is a surprise. Oxytocin and Kindling had abandoned her as a foal when Beqanna raged war against the Valley, so he had never come across as the fatherly type to her. As irritating as foals can be, she is happy to have brothers and – finally! – a sister running around the kingdom, wreaking havoc and causing mischief in general. They bring life to this land that seems almost desolate to her. Maybe that’s just the military state of things, after first Vulgaris’s takeover (she never liked that man) and then to it so quickly changing hands to Castile.
Speaking of... a smirk flashes across her face as the draconic stallion crosses her path, the amusement in his eyes identical to the humor in hers. Her laugh is deep and throaty as he echoes her thoughts, and she pulls her wings into her body as to not take up so much space. She’s had the habit lately of just letting them drag the ground, the golden wingtips creating divots in the dirt as she travels. This is not her Island, she has no care if she mars the landscape.
“I’m not very surprised to see you here,” she tells him. “I figured you would move on to your next conquest if the Resort wouldn’t have you.”
He calls those left behind fools and Cress shrugs her large shoulders as he tries to convince her to remain. “They are loyal to their family - I do not blame them. What bothers me is how quickly they were willing to turn on Tiphon, and the sense of balance that we had created for them there.” It is over now, and though Cress feels a little more than scorned, she doesn’t wish them ill.
“It is my home, Castile. It is the first place in quite a few years that I have felt safe, and grounded. I may be a captive here, but I love the Resort, even if her people infuriate me.”
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
It would be wise to have her here – not against her will – to provide a healing balm to the Loessians, to soothe their pain albeit temporary. It would behoove him to persuade her, but her resolve is seemingly firm, for now.
She has a rebuttal, and although it causes him to initially bristle, Castile smooths himself immediately. A languid shrug ripples through his shoulders. ”That doesn’t mean I’m done with the Island,” he croons sweetly even as his voice drips venomously from his tongue, ”I will soon pay it a well-deserved visit.” It won’t be kind. It won’t be a peaceful reunion. His mind has been reeling with thoughts of burning the trees and shrubbery, of causing a mayhem they would regret awakening. They should have accepted him; he would have been great, but things happen for a reason.
What he wanted was a herd land. What he got instead, was a kingdom.
”Ungrateful,” he scolds with a distasteful curl of his lip as he takes pause to look northwest where, beyond the forests and volcano, lies the two large islands. ”And selfish. They care for themselves. They claim they allowed you and Tiphon to stay yet by the sounds of it, they contributed nothing to the Resort.” Castile, baroque and formidable in strength, inclines away from Cress and takes a few steps so that he may cast his gaze across the familiar landscape of Loess. Mountains reach up toward the clouds to the east, and the Sylvan forest darkens the borders to the west. As strange as it is to be here again, after so much time had passed, Castile is fast approaching relief. ”I lived here once, years ago. I was the Regent beneath Lepis,” slowly, he turns again to face Cress with a metallic glint in his eyes, ”Loess has been kind to me. I’m sure it would be to you as well, should you allow it.”
Plumes of black smoke coil from his nostrils and momentarily hide his face from her view, but a step forward breaks the curtain so that their eyes meet. ”You’re far too interesting to live among incestual sheep. You should be among those that match your caliber, not…” Castile trails off, letting her finish the statement in her own mind while a jagged grin touches his lips. ”Plus, you want to help heal. There are many here that could use your skill.”
02-25-2019, 10:42 PM (This post was last modified: 02-25-2019, 10:43 PM by Cress.)
cRess
like a house on fire we're up in flames; i'd burn here if that's what it takes
He’s right, you know.
They hadn’t appreciated her, or Tiphon’s gentle leadership. They certainly hadn’t respected anyone outside of their own family. The trio – her, Tiphon, and sweet Leliana – had come gotten to the Resort before anyone else had laid claim on it, and they had promised one another that it would be a sanctuary where anyone would be welcome. When the others had begun trickling in, they had been there; when Heartfire appeared on their beaches, nearly dead, Cress and Leliana had help to nurse her back to health, and in return their own illness had been healed.
He talks of returning to the Resort, and Cress knows that he does not mean it as a peaceful visit. The fire that surges in her own throat surprises her; the anger that she didn’t know she harbors makes a surprising visit, and she has to swallow past flames as he calls them ungrateful and selfish. He isn’t wrong, but what shocks her most about his words is the flames that rise inside of her. She didn’t realize just how furious with them she is, for turning against Tiphon and her as if they had done nothing for the territory. She didn’t think of it at first, but she wonders if they would even welcome her back.
Her resolve isn’t as ironclad as he seems to think it is after all.
She swallows hard as he briefly vanishes behind a curtain of black smoke, trying to smooth her expression as he steps forward, eyes meeting hers. She tastes fire as she stretches her wings nervously, trying not to let him know how shaken up she is. “My entire family is here, aside from my daughter,” she admits. “Perhaps it would behoove me to stay awhile, to help.” Her eyes fall and she studies the dirt between her hooves, sighing softly.
“It has taken me so long to find somewhere I truly feel at home, you know? And for them to so easily thrust me out... it hurts.”
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
Castile can see how thoughts chase each other through her mind, how she is warring with herself about the validity of his statements. He wants to smile, but that would expose his realization, his goals. While the words tumble easily enough past his lips, he feints casual honesty. Farther down, however, deep in the dark corridors of his mind, he is poisoning her ideas. Inch by inch, he cuts away the hope she has of the Resort’s success. He strips away her hopes that they would welcome her back with open arms. He ties strings to her limbs as her puppeteer and lures her closer into his – into Loess’ – embrace.
”Oh, a family affair!” His voice is deep and gravelly as his expression brightens upon hearing that her family is also among them. ”That’s more reason for you to remain, no?” He, too, has corralled his children, mother, father, and… consort? Into the kingdom. They belong with him. They need each other and to maintain a formidable unity. They are dragonborne. They are elite. The tight bond among them is forged even more powerfully when congregated in a single location. It warms him to see father basking in the sun and mother wandering the rocky hills and Reia scrambling for others her age.
They need each other.
The closer they are, the less likely others will tear them apart (arrogant. So arrogant).
Cress is responsive to his methods as she considers rooting herself now, but her words still lean toward a temporary fix. Castile isn’t one to beg or kiss anyone’s feet. Those days have long since passed. His ambitions are aligned with Loess and her wellbeing, to attract those of worth and power into its borders. She, is one of them. ”It happens,” he confesses, suddenly softened by her confession as he reflects on his own life and the nomadic years that led him from one place to another. ”Loess may grow on you.” The poison dripping from his lips has subsided, yielding to sincerity and compassion. ”Nerine was always my home, but then I found myself in Hyaline, here, Icicle Island, Island resort, then back here to Loess. It’s only now, after so many years being away, that this place feels like home.” As the sun blankets across his back, Castile sweeps his tail idly before concluding, ”Sometimes it just takes a while.”
