07-18-2019, 01:18 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 could be wrong to make assumptions, but his predatory nature is to act on a whim. He is impulsive, he is dependent on his gut feelings and internalized ideas. That’s why he didn’t bother to ask her about anything – because his mind told him exactly how Ilma would react, even if it was incorrect. But everyone has a flaw, a weakness. There are repercussions to face and regret to be had. It’s happening now, beneath her tired stare as she listens to the softness of his voice that he tries to supplement with a sheepish grin.
But Ilma has always been able to see beyond that. Somehow, her eyes dive far deeper than the surface. She has the innate ability to understand Castile often better than he understands himself, but he is too proud and too stubborn to accept that. He believes them to be polar opposites while she sees hope and cohesion.
Castile’s head tilts as he searches her face to see the fleeting disappointment. ”Would we have?” He doesn’t question her ability; no, she is a strong individual which earned her the role as Caretaker, no matter how brief. It’s just a foreign thought to imagine them together – fire and light, war and peace. One is not whole without the other, truthfully, but still he hesitates. ”A friend sits on Pangea’s throne while I sit on Loess’.” He trusts Litotes and wants to believe that there will never be a mutiny or clash between the two kingdoms. ”I don’t know if you would have followed me like he has,” he pauses as images of the war flash across his mind, ”While you were gone, Ilma, a lot happened. I’m not so sure you would approve.” The secrets have been lying in the labyrinth of his mind; Castile didn’t want to tell her everything that she missed because when he looks at her, he sees her scorn when he lashed at Sabra. He sees her stern face when he confessed all his mistakes to her. Ilma refuses to accept that he is a monster; she wants to believe that he is kind when in fact,, he often crumbles in the face of the beast inside him. She gets angry when she sees him succumb to his darker, more agitated side. It’s controlled now, yes, but there is now a balance between antagonist and protagonist.
”Litotes took Pangea and it extends Loess’ influence through mutual friendship. Wolfbane has taken Taiga for Loess. I defeated Sinner and took Sylva from him and Mary, for Loess, when they betrayed us,” his kingdom is expanding, he implies, ”and we destroyed half of Tephra in a war when they dared cross our path.” Without realizing, Castile’s eyes fell to his feet while mapping out small achievements. With a heavy sigh, his gaze rises to meet hers. ”Where would you have been during this? Where would you have stood? Correct me if I’m wrong, Ilma, but you would have tried to stop me.” As his neck arches – he looks proud, perhaps even slightly arrogant – as he inches back from her. ”I refuse to be stopped until I decide otherwise,” he realizes there will come a day when the sun sets on his reign, but that isn’t yet. He still tightly clutches his crown.
Castile glances back over his shoulder and watches how snow begins to fall, and melt, on his skin. The scenery is peaceful, somehow even quiet. His eyes pleasantly observe the gray clouds and naked trees. ”There are sides,” he murmurs as his head slowly turns so that he may look at her again, ”either with us or against us.” He, Litotes, Wolfbane, Loess… they are a single force now.
Ilma’s sadness creeps across her face. Admittedly, it breaks him. To know someone for so long, to build a friendship that has survived the roller coaster, is to be more empathetic when one’s emotions are suddenly on a sleeve. A sigh nearly passes from him, but it settles into a steadied breath. ”What do you want, Ilma?” The question is gentle, far kinder than she has ever heard before. ”If it was up to you, what would you have?”
But Ilma has always been able to see beyond that. Somehow, her eyes dive far deeper than the surface. She has the innate ability to understand Castile often better than he understands himself, but he is too proud and too stubborn to accept that. He believes them to be polar opposites while she sees hope and cohesion.
Castile’s head tilts as he searches her face to see the fleeting disappointment. ”Would we have?” He doesn’t question her ability; no, she is a strong individual which earned her the role as Caretaker, no matter how brief. It’s just a foreign thought to imagine them together – fire and light, war and peace. One is not whole without the other, truthfully, but still he hesitates. ”A friend sits on Pangea’s throne while I sit on Loess’.” He trusts Litotes and wants to believe that there will never be a mutiny or clash between the two kingdoms. ”I don’t know if you would have followed me like he has,” he pauses as images of the war flash across his mind, ”While you were gone, Ilma, a lot happened. I’m not so sure you would approve.” The secrets have been lying in the labyrinth of his mind; Castile didn’t want to tell her everything that she missed because when he looks at her, he sees her scorn when he lashed at Sabra. He sees her stern face when he confessed all his mistakes to her. Ilma refuses to accept that he is a monster; she wants to believe that he is kind when in fact,, he often crumbles in the face of the beast inside him. She gets angry when she sees him succumb to his darker, more agitated side. It’s controlled now, yes, but there is now a balance between antagonist and protagonist.
”Litotes took Pangea and it extends Loess’ influence through mutual friendship. Wolfbane has taken Taiga for Loess. I defeated Sinner and took Sylva from him and Mary, for Loess, when they betrayed us,” his kingdom is expanding, he implies, ”and we destroyed half of Tephra in a war when they dared cross our path.” Without realizing, Castile’s eyes fell to his feet while mapping out small achievements. With a heavy sigh, his gaze rises to meet hers. ”Where would you have been during this? Where would you have stood? Correct me if I’m wrong, Ilma, but you would have tried to stop me.” As his neck arches – he looks proud, perhaps even slightly arrogant – as he inches back from her. ”I refuse to be stopped until I decide otherwise,” he realizes there will come a day when the sun sets on his reign, but that isn’t yet. He still tightly clutches his crown.
Castile glances back over his shoulder and watches how snow begins to fall, and melt, on his skin. The scenery is peaceful, somehow even quiet. His eyes pleasantly observe the gray clouds and naked trees. ”There are sides,” he murmurs as his head slowly turns so that he may look at her again, ”either with us or against us.” He, Litotes, Wolfbane, Loess… they are a single force now.
Ilma’s sadness creeps across her face. Admittedly, it breaks him. To know someone for so long, to build a friendship that has survived the roller coaster, is to be more empathetic when one’s emotions are suddenly on a sleeve. A sigh nearly passes from him, but it settles into a steadied breath. ”What do you want, Ilma?” The question is gentle, far kinder than she has ever heard before. ”If it was up to you, what would you have?”
castile
@[Ilma]