Character Castle 2.0
- This topic has 2,849 replies, 27 voices, and was last updated 2 years, 7 months ago by .
-
Posts
-
RÚAN
“That looks like it hurts.”
The question caught Rúan by surprise. He glanced over at Quin, and a hint of concern sparked in the boy’s eyes.
Rúan smiled through the pain. “I’m fine.”
A crackling sound reverberated all throughout the cave.
“Now that you all know who the others are, I think it’s time to make some enemies.”
The voice was chilling, and an invisible breeze rippled across Rúan’s skin, making him shiver.
“I now know none of you have any problems with shedding blood, so let’s go with that, shall we?”
A sickening lump formed in Rúan’s throat. What does THAT mean?
Rúan slowly stood up, trying to hurry to where he’d left his sword in the corner. Halfway there, though, his injured calf sent needles up his leg, and he collapsed with a cry, blood pooling around him.
Gritting his teeth, he inched forward in an army crawl towards his sword, grasping the hilt with whitening knuckles.
Whatever this infernal place wants me to do, he thought as a fire pulsed through his veins, it will have a hard time getting me to comply.
Ahck — I wonder what he’s going to do at this point. 😅
Anxious gremlin coming through
Hii I’m so sorryI haven’t been active lately 🙁 there’s just a lot going on with college, work and some personal stuff that’s really stressed me out to the point where I find it hard to write at all and I’m honestly praying a lot for the situation to be solved. I’ve had to ask for extensions for a couple of my assignments because I haven’t been able to work properly.
I will get back onto it when I can. Though at the moment i haven’t been reading the posts at all so i have no idea what the story is haha. Feel free to use Lorcan yourselves if u like, I think u get the jist of him. He’s snarky, arrogant, dark, kicks all kinds of butt, secretly has a big heart u get the picture
Sorry again for not being active 🙁 xx
Quin
“I’m fine,” Ruan answered. I doubt it. The Castle’s chilling voice interrupted. No, no. Not again.
Ruan jumped up and staggered away in the direction of his sword, but only made it part-way before collapsing. I didn’t think you were fine. Quin got stiffly to his feet. Didn’t even bother using my crutch. He picked it up and began hobbling toward Ruan.
“No, you don’t.” It was the Castle’s voice. Quin froze. “Look, I think your idea is hateful. I don’t know what or who you are, but you’re evil, whether you’re a being or a piece of rock. I don’t care what you do to me, I’m not going to hurt anyone, no matter who they are.”
Suddenly everything around him faded. The noise of the Castle’s voice boomed shut, like a great door; the people, the cave, everything became foggy. Quin looked nervously behind him.
The castle’s voice spoke again, closer this time, more like a whisper. “You. You have to be dealt with more carefully. What shall your consequence be?”
(author’s note: from now on, nothing the Castle says or does to Quin is audible/visible to others, but Quin’s reactions still are.)
Quin could feel his heart thundering in his chest, catching in his throat. Panic. It was the way it always started. His hands started to tremble
“I could make you relive your mother’s death, your accident. But then, you do that every day, so you’re much too used to it…”
No. Whatever you’re going to say, don’t say it. A knot tightened in Quin’s stomach. Qatar, where’s Qatar? Quin turned around, looking for him. Qatar still stood by the dying fire, watching the chaos around him. At least he was as clear as normal, not foggy like every one else. Quin breathed a sigh of release, then tensed suddenly. Too clear. Qatar was too clear. No. No, no, no.
“No. He’s my brother. I won’t do it.”
“Oh, won’t you, now?” A great hand all of rock reached down through the dream-world and clamped Quin around the chest, squeezing his bruised ribs so tightly he gasped.
The next second he stood in front of Qatar, his brother gazing at him with his dark, distant eyes.
Ten months ago those eyes were an open book. He could read everything in them, whether Qatar wanted him to or not. Now the book was shut, bound with an iron clasp.
“Do it.” the Castle’s voice whispered in his ear.
“No,” Quin hissed back.
The hand tightened on his ribs. Quin bit his tongue. I’m going to die for this. Everything he had said before to Ruan seemed like a child’s play. ‘I should have died instead of her.’ How often he’d thought it! The great hand tightened. “You’re just flesh and blood, little boy. Or should I say Little Brother? the only thing that can resist me is diamond. You couldn’t do anything.”
“I won’t do it.”
Suddenly a thread of suspicion appeared in Qatar’s dark eyes.
“Do what, Little Brother?”
“Do it.” The hand gripped tighter. Quin couldn’t breath. He heard a rib start to crack. “Death here isn’t like death in your world. You’re still here. With me. I can give you death and flashbacks.–only you’d never get out.”
“I don’t have a weapon.” it was almost a sob.
Qatar started to back away. “easy, Little Brother. Nobody’s trying to hurt you.”
Words caught in his throat and choked him. But they are.
“No problem,” hissed the voice. Quin glanced down. A knife was in his hand, long and sharp and dangerous.
“Do it. I’m losing patience.” The hand tightened on his chest, and the lump in his throat. “Okay,” he gasped. “I will.”
“Not good enough. Do it now.”
The knife flashed out. The next instant Quin was lying on the floor, gasping for breath. He was clutching a knife in one hand. The fog and the death-grip were gone, but Qatar was staring at him, his face dark with shock and anger.
I did it.
Quin squeezed his eyes shut.
“Little Brother!” Qatar spit the words out, and stumbled backward a few steps.
Tears pricked at the back of Quin’s eyes. He couldn’t look up to meet the hurt in his brother’s face.
It’s just like everybody said. I’m a coward.
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
https://silverpenstrokes.wordpress.comBefore I start, whatever the castle says to Qatar is heard/seen by everybody. The dream world was Quin’s thing.
Qatar
Quin stood in front of him, his eyes full of terror and confusion.
“I won’t do it,” he panted.
“Do what, Little Brother?”
“I don’t have a weapon.” His voice was small and weak, and pain flashed across his face.
What’s he talking about? Realization dawned suddenly, and Qatar stepped back. What are you doing? Whatever’s going on with you it can’t be that bad.
“Take it easy, Little Brother. Nobody’s trying to hurt you.”
Quin’s eyes were lit with fear, horror, and something like desperation.
The Castle’s challenge.
he felt suddenly sick. He wouldn’t really–
“Wait, wait…”
pain, hot and quick shot through his thigh, and Quin collapsed on the ground in front of him gasping for air. One shaking hand held a knife. A streak of blood appeared on the tunic Niarok had lent Qatar.
he stabbed me.
Rage, hot and uncontrollable welled up in his mind. “Little Brother.” he spit the words out as if he hated them. “You miserable little beast. I was willing to call it an accident. Willing to say it wasn’t your fault. But all along I knew it was. ”
He couldn’t see anything in the room anymore, except his brother’s hand clutching a knife. “I knew it was just because you were a little coward. Yellow-livered, running from danger like a dog with it’s tail tucked.” He was shouting. Quin started to shake, sobs ripping through his body.
“Do something about it.”
Qatar couldn’t tell if it was the voice of the castle or the voice of his mind. He didn’t care. He knelt down and picked up the knife. “I didn’t even know you carried this, little brother.”
Only a half brother. It sounded like the castle’s voice.
He threw the knife away. “Knives are for rope and leather, not people.”
A spire of rock suddenly appeared before him, shaped like a spear. “You’ve never checked your anger before. Let it go now.”
He clenched his fist. He was so close to Quin. All it would take was one flick of his arm. He didn’t move.
“You all have so many objections to pain and death.” the spear came closer. “I have none.”
Qatar looked down again. His hand trembled, just three inches from Quin’s cheek. One blow. That’s all it will take. He looked up at the giant spear, aimed for his heart, and back at Quin. Then we’d be even. The cut on his thigh burned.
little brother, where did you get that knife!
The spear drew back. “Come one, Miller. One little slap. I’m not even asking you to kill him.”
Qatar drew his hand back, and the spear started to lower. He looked at Quin. His tiny, shrunken form was spread flat on the castle floor shaking with either fright or tears. Repugnance washed over him like a flood.
“Coward.” He clenched his fist. He’d wanted to do it for ten months.
The spear lowered.
Qatar pushed himself to his feet and let his hand fall to his side.
“No.”
the spear hit him with the power of a running horse, full in the chest. perfect shot. For a moment it only felt like he’d lost wind. Then the pain came. Dark, boiling. He could feel his knees trembling, then giving way. His head hit the stone floor with a sickening crack, and all around him he could feel hot, sticky blood. So this is what it feels like.
For a moment he felt terror, like he’d seen in Quin’s face. He reached out his hand, looking for some human contact. For someone. Anyone.
his fingres met Quin’s wrist and he squeezed as tight as his slipping strength could hold.
I love you, Little Brother.
Dark.
~~~
Yes, I really did it.
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
https://silverpenstrokes.wordpress.comI’m so sorry! Will be praying. You take care of you and don’t worry about us. God is good, even when it doesn’t feel like it. Hope your life gets less stressful soon. <3 <3 Virtual hugs aren’t the same but it’s the best I can give. :'(
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
https://silverpenstrokes.wordpress.comWHAT DID YOU JUST DOOOOOOOOOOO????????????????????????????????????????????
"The darkness is seldom complete, and even when it is, the pinprick of light is not long in coming."
@denali-christianson just what it looks like: I killed someone off in the castle.
I thought it’d be fun to see what people’s reactions would be. Besides, how else would Niarok get the chance to see ‘the noble man he could be’ if he’s running around being a jerk the whole time?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
https://silverpenstrokes.wordpress.com@emily-waldorf
thank you hun that means a lot to me❤️ And trust me i’m not finished with Lorcan yet – i’ve been brainstorming his character for the past while (he’s such a wonderful distraction from life’s woes😍) and he has literally become even more complex and anti-heroish😊 if i’m not careful he might turn out to be a fully fledged villain!Lorcan: But Neasa! What about the glory and heroic honour you promised me?!
Me: Shh just sit back and let me do the work. You’re still gonna be awesome don’t worry.
Lorcan: *darkens his voice threateningly* I’d <i>better</i> be. Or you’ll be in big trouble…
Of course I only managed that cause got a lot of my inspiration from Attack on Titan. And – I mean A LOT. The composer Hiroyuki Sawano just gets my imagination going like no one else haha 😂
@wingiby-iggiby I’m so sorry this is so late! I actually did that profile picture traditionally! I used microns and tombow pens 🙂 It does look digital though, but that’s only because my tablet camera was being unusually cooperative and gave me a beautiful clean picture (usually not the case lol)
Btw, I really, really enjoyed reading Chet’s POV. You did such a good job of characterizing him through his speech and internal dialogue! He was really fun to read. I know you said you were busy, but Chet’s always free to come back to the castle if you ever find time 😉
*laughs as one fey*
…what…?
WHAT WHAT WHAT!!!!!!!!!!! HE JUST KILLED HIM WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
*cough cough* hi, friendly stalker again. <3
How could you do that to me? *glares* Also dang girl that was intense, I am impressed!!!
To be a light to the world you must shine in the darkness.
@this-is-not-an-alien I figured you’d be around sooner or later, after that post. 😉 I wanted to see how the characters (and the people–I’m on to your stalking, Cathy) would react if someone died in the castle.
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
https://silverpenstrokes.wordpress.comKlein listened to the voice again. This time calling for bloodshed. Aydin’s self-inflicted cut didn’t count. The blood had to be shed from another persons attack. Scratching his chin, Klein quickly though up lesser injuries he could deal and take. Before he could decide, Quin began to mumble and gesticulate. Klein recognized the pattern. He was hallucinating; bad. Qatar seemed to know and advanced only to be slashed by his brother. Qatar froze for a moment before the fury kicked in. Jumping up Klein moved. He had to disarm Quin until the hallucination passed and keep Qatar from going too far. Suddenly a stone spear rose from the ground.
“Come one, Miller. One little slap. I’m not even asking you to kill him.” egged the voice.
Qatar just stood there. He was milling over the choice.
“Coward.”
“No.”
The spear shot into Qatar. Running, Klein caught Qatar as he fell. Rolling him over, Klein saw the wound. Center of the chest. Six inches tall and a half wide. Lots of blood. Fatal. Seeing Qatar reaching for his brother, Klein guided the two hands to meet. It was all he could do for the two. Qatar’s eyes blurred. Slowly, Klein closed his eyes.
“Rest in peace.”
Standing, Klein remained still. “My religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me. That is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave.” A quote from Stonewall Jackson. He’s sergeant had told him it before his first battle. Klein had asked how he should stop feeling the fear. That had been the answer. Qatar seemed to have discovered it on his own.
Turning, Klein walked toward Rúan. If he understood the rules set out, one had to shed blood but it did not say that the bloodied had to. Rúan was already injured so he probably couldn’t take another hit. But Klein could.
“Hey Rúan. Hit me in the nose.”
The Devil saw me with my head down and got excited. Then I said Amen
Sorry for the dead silence after your post… I was um *coughs* mourning Qatar’s death. *cough cough*
Anyways, I will totally be praying about your situation and I hope it gets better. I can definitely understand the feelings of stress and pain and general misery… Please remember that we’re always here for you!
Also, that dialogue you just had with Lorcan there just made my entire day. XD
I am literally still in shock. I think I’m going to faint or something. And this happened three or four hours ago.
WHAT ON EARTH JUST HAPPENED????????
Besides, how else would Niarok get the chance to see ‘the noble man he could be’ if he’s running around being a jerk the whole time?
BY BEING NIAROK AND SEEING THINGS LIKE THAT EVEN WHEN PEOPLE ARE AT THEIR WORST BECAUSE THAT’S HIS CHARACTER! GAH you’ve ruined me. XD
I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this mad over a character death…
Guess it’s different when you have been through blood and sweat with them and then they just… get speared in front of you.
*punches a hole in the wall and cries*
Okay, moving on. XD
I apologize in advance – this is going to be long. (I know, I know, you’re saying. Denali, your posts are always painfully long… XD)
Niarok
Niarok was going to tear this castle apart. He was done. He was sick of this. And he’d never felt this powerless in his whole life.
And this was the worst thing the castle had done to them yet.
Although so far this challenge as probably doing the exact opposite of what the castle had intended – Niarok’s faith in his companions had just risen about ten notches higher.
He hadn’t expected Aydin to voluntarily sacrifice himself to Yila, although Niarok had known from the start that he was a whole lot braver than he gave himself credit for.
And then there was Yila. That was the most control he’d seen her exhibit in years. She was getting stronger, and pride burned in his chest for her.
“Let’s see if we can do better this time. Evelyn!”
Evie snapped to attention, her hand gripping a dagger that she clearly knew how to use. Niarok didn’t know her, but she seemed to have a noble heart buried somewhere beneath the depths of her apparent survivalism.
“What do you want?” she barked. “And who are you?”
“I, my sweet, am Lord Castle. And I want you to shed a considerable amount of blood on one of these people.”
Niarok resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. Now the Castle was going too far.
She’s been here for a grand total of twenty minutes, you scoundrel! Give her a break!
“Or what?” Evie hissed, eyes undaunted. She’d clearly heard threats before.
“Or I’ll have to resort to a whip,” the Castle stated, its voice dropping a level or two.
Evie’s eyes went wide and her face paled multiple shades. She clutched the wall behind her, breathing hard. Sweat beaded on her forehead.
Niarok started to grab her elbow so she wouldn’t fall but then realized that touching her might cause her to lose herself more. He’d talk to her about it when she wasn’t in the throes of a panic attack.
The fear dissipated quickly, as if she’d shoved it away by brute force. Niarok wondered how long it had taken her to master that skill. He still could only do it half the time and Yila had never been able to. Ever.
“See? I’m sure you’d rather not suffer that again,” the Castle murmured, its metallic voice seductive. Niarok’s stomach curled.
Evie’s gaze darted around the room, her brown eyes indecisive and angry and fearful.
Screw caution.
Niarok gripped her shoulder. She turned towards him, and he was struck by the depth in her eyes. She’d understand.
He held out his right arm, trying to communicate that it was okay. She could slash him.
“I-I can’t hurt you,” she finally whispered, looking away.
“The alternative is worse. I’m a healer. I’ll live.” Niarok replied, keeping his voice low.
She stared hard at him, glanced at her dagger, and then cut his skin with a concerning amount of efficiency.
The wound stung, but he’d experienced so much worse in the past that he barely felt it.
He turned away and pulled a cloth from his backpack which he wrapped around the wound. He’d treat it properly when this was all over.
The castle was onto threatening Quin. Bile rose in Niarok’s throat. He was just a boy. This was downright evil.
The Castle must have been communicating telepathically because although Quin was mumbling words, the Castle’s voice could not be heard.
A knife appeared in Quin’s hand as he stood in front of Qatar, and Niarok tensed.
No.
Quin slashed Qatar’s upper thigh. It was a deep wound, but not nearly so deep as the one Niarok saw tear open in Qatar’s eyes.
“Little brother!” he cried, anger and hurt taut in his voice. “You miserable little beast. I was willing to call it an accident. Willing to say it wasn’t your fault. But all along I knew it was.”
His voice rose, and Niarok shut his eyes. Blood he could handle. Death he could deal with. But families torn apart? That was too much. Siblings estranged from each other because of an evil castle? Niarok thought he was either going to throw up or attack something.
“I knew it was just because you were a little coward. Yellow-livered, running from danger like a dog with it’s tail tucked.” Qatar shouted. Quin sobbed on the floor. To be called a murderer was one thing. To be called a coward was somehow far worse.
“Do something about it,” the Castle whispered.
Niarok’s heart leapt into his throat.
No. Don’t.
Qatar reached down, almost as if he were in a dream. “I didn’t even know you carried this, little brother.”
But instead of hurting Quin, he threw the knife to the side. “Knives are for rope and leather, not people.”
Niarok relaxed.
But then a spire of rock appeared out of nowhere. It was shaped like a spear, sharp and extremely deadly. “You’ve never checked your anger before. Let it go now,” the Castle goaded.
Qatar tensed but didn’t move.
“You all have so many objections to pain and death. I have none.”
The spear was dangerously close to Qatar’s heart.
Qatar glanced between Quin and the spear, and Niarok pleaded with him, begged him not to do it.
The Castle wouldn’t kill him, would it?
“Come one, Miller. One little slap. I’m not even asking you to kill him.”
The spear drew back an inch.
Qatar drew his hand back. The spear began to lower.
“Coward,” he hissed, his hand clenched into a fist.
The spear lowered.
Qatar pushed himself to his feet. His hand fell to his side.
“No.”
The spear slammed into Qatar’s chest with all the force of ten horses.
Niarok choked.
“Qatar!” he cried.
Klein leapt forward and caught the man’s falling body, lowering him gently to the floor as blood poured out of the mortal wound. Niarok stood frozen.
There was nothing he could do. He’d only felt this way once, when his father died. The only difference was then there was a place to run and a person to run from.
Here, they were trapped.
And this thing had just proven it was willing to kill them if they didn’t comply.
He lowered his eyes and whispered a blessing for Qatar’s soul.
Klein stood from beside Qatar’s still body. “My religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me. That is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave.”
Niarok glanced at him and lowered his eyes once again. Though he and Klein were from such different worlds, at least that united them.
“Hey Rúan. Hit me in the nose,” Klein said.
Niarok smiled without joy. Life went on.
He turned away, dreading the moment when the castle forced him into this situation. The last thing he would do was hurt someone, but he dreaded the consequences even so.
Evie stood beside the wall, hand clamped over her mouth and brown eyes wide.
Niarok touched her shoulder, and she jumped, shook herself, and looked at him.
“Has it done this before?” she whispered.
Niarok hesitated, his mind replaying that terrible, shocking, horrifying moment.
“No.”
Evie looked away, bit her lip, and looked back at him. “Then what do we do?”
“I don’t know,” Niarok murmured, tears welling at the corner of his eyes.
He felt so helpless.
Evie lowered her gaze, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Me neither.”
Niarok stared at the horrible pool of blood on the cave floor and sighed.
“I better go clean that up,” he said.
Evie nodded. “I think I’ll help.”
"The darkness is seldom complete, and even when it is, the pinprick of light is not long in coming."
Ooh I’ve got some catch up to do!
@emily-waldorf Quin’s in his late teens, right? I don’t think I mentioned this, but Basil’s around his age 🙂 I’m not sure exactly how old he is, though. He was kinda forced to grow up early, plus I doubt he he even knows himself lolBasil:
“Timid!” Quin spat. He balled his fists, searing anger flashing across his darkened eyes. Basil flinched. For a split second, he saw the Commandant towering over him again, flinty eyes piercing his heart like twin daggers.
“Timid!”
She roared, eyes blazing. Basil seized, every muscle in his body tensed for flight. He shook his head.
That was years ago.
And this wasn’t the Commandant, anyways. This time, it was Quin. A boy his own age, just as scared and confused as himself.
Besides, he was taller than her now – not that it mattered anymore.
Quin gritted his teeth. “It was right. Even if it wouldn’t stand in a court of law, I killed someone, and that’s murder. Maybe I’m the liar!” he shouted. “Maybe it wasn’t an accident. It’s all so new; so real; so eternally horrible, and if I wasn’t me–if I wasn’t timid, she’d still be alive. She–” Quin suddenly stopped, chest heaving as he took a slow, shuddering breath. Basil flinched as the boy locked his gaze. He glanced away.
“Timid!”
Basil slowly lifted his gaze. A fleeting look of recognition passed over Quin’s eyes, slowly draining the darkness in his gaze. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“I’m sorry too.” He slowly opened his eyes. “I…I shouldn’t have shouted.”
“Do you … do you mind if I sit with you two?” Basil glanced up to see a tall man standing over Quin, leaning on a rickety crutch. Quin’s shoulders sagged.
“Sure.”
*laughs as one fey*
@emily-waldorf @mamaauthoress What does Ruan look like, again? I know he has green eyes 🙂
Basil:
“What … happened?” Quin stiffened. He shot a glance at the stranger’s wounded leg. Basil tightened his arms around his knees. “I apologize,” the man murmured. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. Basil buried his chin in his knees, marinating in the awkward silence. The tall red-haired man (@mamaauthoress is this right?) slowly reached out and touched Quin’s shoulder.
“Even if you are a murderer,” he murmured, “my understanding is that you want to leave that behind.” His lips twitched into a faint smile as he met Quin’s eyes. “I might have a hint as to what you are going through … and I want to leave my past behind as well.” Quin shifted uncomfortably.
“I wish I could,” he whispered. Basil tilted his head, watching the boy intently. Quin flushed bright red and squirmed. “People called it an accident,” he said slowly. He paused. “It wasn’t.” He shrank back, tensely glancing between Basil and the other man.
“It was my fault. I was driving, and…and…” His trembled, his shoulders shaking. “I was too…” Quin choked. He swallowed, his lip trembling. “Too s-scared to…do anything. The wagon crashed. Then everything was blood and sweat and fire–” he paused.
“She was dead,” he whispered. His glance strayed to his missing leg. “I was…like this.” He stared off into the distance, eyes vacant. “I should have died. They wouldn’t miss me like they miss her.”
*laughs as one fey*
- The forum ‘Private: Fantasy Writers’ is closed to new topics and replies.
