Lepis;

[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

It would be a lie if Castile admitted that he was unsurprised. A brow lifts under the metallic sheen of his forelock, his eyes gleaming with as much shock as there is curiosity. ”Well,” is all he can say at first, crinkling his chin thoughtfully as his gaze casts out across Loess. The shared responsibility and change in expectations would have unsettled their neighbors; however, Castile simply nods in settlement when his attention returns to her. ”Very well,” it isn’t that he is entirely upset. The possession of Loess has been his alone for quite some time. Every decision has been of his own accord, never requiring the acquiescence of a counterpart. As freeing as it is, as empowering as it is, he knows how his reign is on the descent. Soon, he will resign, and thus will turn to a new chapter in his dynamic life.

But Straia holds his interest on a string, tempting him to a point he cannot deny. An ambitious hunger still resides within him, unchanged from years prior. He wants more, even if it will one day bring forth his downfall. Blind lust, feverish ambition. It pulses through him passionately.

Even as Lepis agrees to the sidelines, Castile’s heart races with a storm of ideas. A gleam catches his eye, brightening his face as she watches him hopefully. ”Of course,” he agrees with a broad smile, ”any special title you’d like? I believe mother let Djinni choose her own,” and so he will respectfully follow, keen to keep Lepis close by his side. ”I have another proposition for you with gaining this new seat,” he pauses and the grin reaches his eyes, shifting into the jagged incisors belonging to his other self, ”You know, something to keep things interesting.” A moment to consider her, to consider the task, and to search her face for any indication of the looming answer. It would be unlike her to refuse, and yet still possible. An inching step brings him closer, his lips edging toward her ears so that the low, intimate whisper can only be heard by her, and her alone. ”I want you to steal two gentlemen,” a thoughtful hesitation and then, ”Nerine’s Champion and Icicle Island’s leader.”

He expects her to furrow her brow, or inquire as to why. With hardly an opportunity for her to speak, he adds as an afterthought: ”A vacation in Loess may be quite beneficial, I would say.”

castile

@[Lepis]