"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
10-09-2019, 02:27 PM (This post was last modified: 10-09-2019, 02:41 PM 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
Curiosity, after all these years, sinks down into his pores and kindles a flame in his immortal heart. Fifteen years – or is it more? – that he has been alive and has never been fed from the palm of the faeries. Gratitude has always woven itself into his blood; he has always known and understood the blessings he has encountered and the way life has been so kind to him. The heartbreak, the deceit, and the loneliness derived from his poor choices – it wasn’t the world against him, but the fickleness of his enlarged heart that led him astray.
He has since recovered, since mended his ways and recovered from his past losses.
And, out of the turbulence, for the first time in his life, he has a want from the faeries.
It would be easier to shift and to soar to the mountain peak, but instead Castile humbly walks. From Loess to the peak’s base, and from there to the snow-capped top. Where it is summer throughout their mortal world, winter seemingly has a permanent grip on the faeries’ domain. A frigid wind blasts against his side as Castile climbs the foreboding paths, stumbling occasionally on loosened rocks. He is battered by the elements, tested physically as the air thins and icily claws his throat. In defense, fire coils through his gut and rises, expelling only in a short stream to desperately grope for its heat. Black smoke coils from his nostrils but the wind quickly whips it away just as he reaches the top.
This is all new, all strange. The barren peak suspends his labored breath, responding with silence as his mismatched eyes sweep back and forth.
Shaking away a sudden chill, Castile begins speaking, his voice like iron.
”I’ve never asked anything of you,” he begins as his metallic locks frame his face, ”Not since I’ve been born nearly two decades ago, but I have a request now. I’ve been happy, and I’ve been fortunate, but Beqanna is ever changing and I want to keep up for the sake of my home and family.” What is it, exactly, that he is trying to do? Sell himself away? Clasp shackles around his legs for a prize? ”When I was born, I only ever saw my father and I as dragons. Now, they are spawning everywhere, from every corner. I want to stand higher, to be stronger or more powerful in some way because I do not trust them – and I have worked at myself with something I was born with. It isn’t an easy shift to possess – it took me years upon years to harness it, to understand it. I fear that somehow, for some reason, they may rise against me with their new powers as though to show me I’m no longer alone. I want to protect my family, my home, and myself. Peace never lasts, as you all well know.” His eyes glimmer as they lift to the sky then toward the jaded rocks standing level with him. He wonders if they listen, if they will respond. ”I am a dragon. My blood is dragon. I want to stand above somehow, to be different in preparation for what will likely happen, to follow the change that always plagues Beqanna. Children died and were harmed when Loess was attacked because a new magician was not controlled or kept in check…” He trails off as the memory burns through him.
Shaking his head after his gaze has fallen, he finally musters a brief conclusion. ”For the first time in my life, I have found true love and I have a family. I want to ensure their safety while continuing to bear the pride that my blood possesses for what we are … I know it is a lot to ask, because I love being a dragon and I do not know what scales higher. I know it requires a quest and sacrifice… but to what level to protect lives and thwart my opposition?” Another puff of black smoke sighs from Castile he falls quiet, watching and waiting as his thoughts feverishly reel.
It has been too quiet for too long.
Something is bound to happen.
castile
Because, why not? Castile wants something dragon-ish (if possible), but to make him stand out because there are so many dragon wanna-be's (how HE feels, NOT ME. He's a brat sometimes since he was born with it) and after so long of silence he is expecting SOMETHING to happen. He is suspicious with so many dragons popping up and because he has seen wars/drama many times following a lull.
Plus, he needs something to do and understands the possibility of a quest and/or sacrifice in trying to be more powerful. I thought it would be fun and creative way to get the juices flowing again because I've always loved playing him
Edited to add: and, if granted, it maybe could tie into whatever may happen among the kingdoms? Obvs drama is stirring with 3 kingdoms confronting castile/loess, it looks like. No idea what, but possible inspiration?
She comes, but not because she is impressed. Not because he deserves anything that he asks for, but instead because she cannot resist putting him back in his place. After all, she deserves a little fun now and again, doesn’t she? They are better than they once were, but they are not good. In the end, their nature will always win, and the lives of mortals are so very short that they scrape and scrap for the illusion of power. In the end, they do not know what power is, and they never really will.
It is cool on the top of the mountain, and she could warm him, but she does not. Instead she appears in a swirl of purple, glittering magic, enjoying the spectacle. “You cast stones, and yet you do no look to yourself. Tell me, Castile, are you blameless?” They are all at fault. She does not blame any single one of them, but in the end, he comes to them pretending to be better than the others when he is as culpable as the rest.
“You seek to be more than a dragon despite knowing that there is little else that is more. There is another way to be different. You will spend part of this year without your power to learn what it is like to be less, to learn how to find power without relying on magic. Dragons spring up across Beqanna to protect themselves from those like you, so perhaps this will change the atmosphere of fear.” Or perhaps they would take advantage of the traitless king, but she doesn’t need to say that for it be known anyway.
The warmth drains from him so easily, the fire within him coming to her when called. He says he asks nothing of them, but where does he think his power came from? They control it all, and what is given can be taken away. “Come back, tell us what you have learned, and we’ll restore your power to you.”
***
You have rolled a 5 and will not receive a quest. Your dragon shifting has been stripped for one RL month – you do not actually have to come back to the mountain to get it back at the end of that month. However, if you decide to petition again, Wysteria does expect to hear what you learned
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 long has it been since he last saw the smugness of her face? How long ago since she stripped him of his draconic features only to return them at the end of his punishment?
There have been days that soared past with hardly notice while others that seemingly hung suspended and unmoving. Seasons have come and gone, but he bided his time patiently until his impulses could no longer be tamed.
Again, he is here. After having flown across the miles to abbreviate the time away from Loess, Castile resorted to walking the perilous trail up the mountainside. His lungs never shy from the thinning oxygen, having adapted to it at the altitudes he is airborne. It is nonetheless exhausting, the winding path, but he achieves it like so many times before, memorizing the divots and loose rocks. Sweat lathers his coat when he finally reaches the top. A grin tips the corners of his mouth, his head tilting. ”Did you miss me?” Of course she didn’t. Castile noticed the disinterest in her eyes, the disappointment that she openly carries toward the mortals. He, especially, was a thorn in her side which is why she took away from him all that he knew. ”I wonder how I would compare if I had the power you do, in addition to what I already am,” he teases, inclining his head to picture himself with her magic and influence on their world.
”We are your puppets,” he adds while straightening himself and recalling her request from their last meeting. ”Everything we have, and can do, is under your thumb. I don’t see an issue with giving great power because it can always be revoked, which you proved to me.” But his wings rip through his skin now, and he eyes them admiringly before turning back to her. ”The time you forced me separated from my other half confirmed how much a part of me it is. It’s the only life I know – to be a predator. I’m not whole without it,” that is what he learned, what he gathered during that period of loss and turmoil.
Yet still he wants more, to stand above imposters and to be the powerful dragon his father always imagined him to be.
castile
@[Kyra] @[Wysteria Fairy]
I mean, we both know this was happening because he is dumb and stubborn and sad his lady walked away from him lmao
Cashing in on the christmas raffle. I won an automatic quest
She greets him with a laugh, something cold and unamused. ”To have my power is to give up living. We are not like you, we are simply magic made flesh to better serve. To say you are our puppets is to misunderstand the nature of this world. Beqanna is magic, the land is alive, and we protect that land. Mortals tend to believe they are the only things affected by their actions.”
She lets that sit between them for a moment as she shifts, becoming a dragon so large the top of her disappears into the cloud. “You cannot be both what you are and what I am,” her voice rumbles from above somewhere. “You have to give up all you are for the sake of magic.” She shrinks again, forming into her small fairy self. She need not exist in any form, not really, for she does not exist by the limits of what they understand.
That is always the problem though, they do not understand.
“I had hoped you would learn what you are without magic. It is greater than you think. But perhaps you need to understand that lesson in a different way.” She forces his shift, turning him into the dragon he loves. “So become what you most revere, a predator. Go and live as a predator only, and learn what it is like to be nothing but magic, nothing but this power you think defines you. Come back when you have learned the lesson. The longer it takes you, the less you will remember your horse self and the more the predator will overtake you.”
***
Castile has been granted a quest. He is stuck in his dragon form until the quest is complete, and as time passes he will become more predator than horse, so these tasks should get more difficult as you complete them. You must participate in three threads where Castile attempts to live as a dragon rather than as a horse (with other characters in the game or NPC account), and come back to report what he learns. He will have the instincts of a predator, not a horse, during this time. Only threads started before this post may be completed in horse form, but no new threads in horse form may be started until this quest is complete.
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
Life has slowly retrogressed, from being controlled by his heart to primal instincts. Over time, love no longer mattered as much as possession. Politics slipped from his palms and escalated into a perception of territoriality, nothing more.
Castile craved the power of his draconic self, assuming it would complement him in the best of ways, but it chiseled away at him instead. Everything that he was – kind to his friends and family, tender toward his loved ones – crumbled with every hit of a hammer. The sound of his voice receded while the one that haunted him as a boy – his alter self – strengthened.
(We are better this way)
As his consciousness slips beneath the waves, barely able to tread water anymore, Castile latches onto this final opportunity to reach for the Mountain. The flight is turbulent and brims with conflict inside his own mind.
(We are better this way)
I can’t anymore… Not like this… I’m not in control.
The thunderous buffeting of his wings breaks the silence at this altitude as he swiftly alights on the familiar platform where he last saw the Wysteria Fairy. ”Honey, I’m home,” he announces, leaking a small sense of humor amid the chaos wreaking havoc through him.
(We must leave)
No.
Rock breaks away underneath his claws as they curl to anchor himself. His proud head lifts high, but then his neck handsomely arches as he looks across his mountainous surroundings until the fairy arrives. Without any small talk, Castile dives into the matter with hardly more than a deep breath.
”I’ve learned how destructive I am in this body as I lose myself more,” his wings, now folded to his sides, shuffle uncomfortably as he dives into oceanic depths of his thoughts and experiences. ”My true self – my equine self – provides the emotions to keep my other self in check. With it having been stripped in the last couple months, I’ve been far more deadly and reckless. I betrayed someone I loved – love – and have potentially ruined any future with her. Had I not caved into lust, it would have been fine. Had I empathy, then I wouldn’t have turned it against her – she didn’t deserve that. I was in the wrong, not her. Like this, I have far too much pride and need for control and possession; I lack empathy and understanding.
I destroyed an entire island. I felt nothing of anguish until I stopped and gained control of myself to realize remorse. My memories were manipulated to feel the island had wronged me, and my instinct was to simply destroy.
I care more about myself in this body, when I have no control. I truly am a monster, but at least when I had more control and the ability to shift back and forth, I could tame that precarious half of me. The predicaments I put myself into prior to your quest were just due to the fickleness and faults of my own heart, not the creature that I am.” It takes so much to admit this, to see what he has become and what he has done to his own life. Rolling his powerful shoulders in a shrug, he eases into a conclusion as his eyes fall to the ground. ”I’ve learned more than most in twenty years. I’ve made mistakes, I’ve been an idiot, but I’ve also done great things. Dynamic, ever changing, ever learning. Isn’t that life? I’ve realized my mistakes and the repercussions they cause. Truthfully, at one point, I wanted you to take out my heart, but then I realized how much I actually need it, especially when my other half is so volatile, dangerous, and primal. I still want to be able to love, despite my failures.”
Castile heavily sighs, flickering his gaze to the fairy’s eyes. ”Congratulations. You’ve humbled the great beast of Beqanna. I’ve just always wanted to be powerful, and to remain unique, especially as a couple more dragons appeared on the horizon.” There’s a contemplative pause as he shuffles his wings ad shifts his weight. ”With great power comes great responsibility. I’ll keep myself in check.”
- Realization that all he has done is hurt others with his own emotions and temptations. He wants to love and yet caves into his lust. It's the realization that everything has been his fault - he feels almost cursed https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=26358
”And yet, did some part of you like it?” she asks as she forms in front of him. She comes as a small thing, hovering a few feet in front of him, white and purple and far prettier than suits her rather sour attitude. Yet, she is not sour now, for he has finally learned what she had hoped. Purple magic shimmers in the air as his ability to shift between horse and dragon is restored. ”I give you a choice. Give up your shifting and I will make you part dragon, part horse, permanently, so that you may have the benefits of both. Or keep what you have now and return to the life you once had.”
***
Castile has been given a choice. He may give up his Dragon Shifting for Equus Draconis instead. Or, he may keep his shifting but will receive no other trait.
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
Underneath his forelock, Castile’s brow quirks. Visibly to her, the corner of his mouth twitches, threatening to break the stoicism of his face with a smug grin. Somehow, despite the urge to airily chuckle, the dragon maintains his composure and regards her with dutiful control. ”I did,” he confesses as a shrug ripples through his immense shoulders. ”I once feared what I was. Now, I’ve learned about it and have embraced it. I’ve experienced the two extremes now, both being learning experiences.” Despite all his mistakes, he doubts he would change anything. Each decision has molded him, for better and for worse.
He blinks as her magic drapes across him and seeps into his pores. A weight lifts from his shoulders as he takes note of his other half returning to him, his conscience restored.
In front of her, Castile doesn’t yet shift. Remaining a dragon, he casts his eyes down and takes careful observation of his talons and the thickness of his brawny limbs. For a few minutes, the faerie’s offer remains quietly unanswered until he finally levels his gaze on her. With a firm, definitive tone, he merely states, ”I will stay as I am.” There’s a brief pause and although he isn’t sure as to whether she would care for his reasons, he still offers one. ”I’m more accustomed to shifting. I enjoy my… larger… self. I’m unwilling to give up my shifting when I can still exhibit draconic traits even as a horse. It remains the best of both worlds.”
A learning experience – that’s what this quest was. There’s little more that can be granted to him. ”I will return to my life, if we are done.” His wings flex preparedly, anticipating a long and thoughtful flight.
