Character Castle 2.0
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Lorcan
Lorcan took a steady breath. “So you’re telling me – that all I have to do is kill one of them – and I’m free?”
“You’ve killed before haven’t you?”, the Castle purred. “This should be very easy for you.”
Lorcan shut his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. He was still trembling inwardly from the things he was forced to remember. He thought hard for a moment, knowing with certainty what he had to do. Then he straightened, drawing back his shoulders. He looked Niarok in the eyes, then Yila. His voice darkened. “Yes. Very easy.”
Yila’s eyes widened in horror. Niarok’s gaze remained emotionless.
Lorcan shut his eyes, bracing himself. He opened his eyes, and slowly drew his blades out. He needed to get this done any over with. Immediately.
Yila was taking a step back now. Niarok was positioning himself before her.
His whole life had been nothing but manipulative. Pushed to do things he wasn’t ready to do. Shoved to the very edge, to his breaking point. He had fallen off – far too many times. And he wasn’t about to do that now.
“But you know?” Lorcan spoke into the silence, chuckling darkly. He knew he had that look in his eyes again. The you have gone too far now look. “Why should I fall for your sick games? I follow my own path in life. I always make the call.”
With that, he lowered his blades to the ground. With great reluctance of course, but he didn’t let it show. e had won this blades single-handedly after all. The moment he laid them down, he felt that feeling of nakedness, like he was missing a limb or something. “I don’t kill people who have never tried to hurt me or those I care about,” he snarled, straightening. “You think you know me so well Castle? Well tough. I’m not dancing to your little tune. Not while I still can. My honour is worth more to me than my kill list.”
He turned back to Yila and Niarok. Yila has this mixture of relief and something like hurt in her expression. He had been around enough girls to know that she was probably in shock, and processing a lot of emotions. He gazed at her in silence, waiting with baited breath for whatever was about to happen next.
@everyone I’m planning on writing the Basil’s reaction too, but I’m going to hold off on that until everyone finishes theirs, since the Castle’s threat is going to involve uhhh let’s just say another plot rabbit hole 😉
@irishcelticredflowercrown Is the girl the Castle mentioned Mayra?*laughs as one fey*
No it isn’t haha, it’s another girl I haven’t introduced yet. Thanks for asking though, I’m glad you’re taking note of my characters – even though so far I’ve only introduced two of them 🙂
@everyone I’m going to go ahead and post the first part of Basil’s reaction. I’ll post the second part once everyone else finishes, since I think it’s going to distract from the current challenge lol
Also, sorry about the incredibly long flashback posts. I’ve been working out a lot of Basil’s backstory and relationships with other characters, plus I’ve been writing these way too late, so they might not make much sense lol. Once this moral compass challenge finishes and the castle takes a little break from chaos, I’m looking forward to focusing more on character interactions in the Castle (@emily-waldorf @mamaauthoress I haven’t forgotten you guys lol)
Also @rosecoloredfancy you might want to start preparing you know who for part two, just saying 😉
Basil (part one):
“And who do you think you’re hiding from, Basil?” Basil froze. The air around him pricked at his face, crackling with tension as the Castle turned it’s gaze on him. “You never quite finished your training, did you? A shame, really. A good deal of tax payer dollars were wasted on you.” Basil flinched as something cold and hard pressed up against his hip. His hands passed over a molded grip, his fingers brushing up against an ice cold trigger. “It’s about time you fixed that, isn’t it?” Basil stared at his feet, trying not to look at the body, trying not to look at the pool of dark blood. “Go on. You remember your training. Point and shoot, Basil. Point and shoot.” Basil’s lip curled.
“Nah. I’ll pass.”
The air crackled. “Is that so?”
Basil sniffed. “I guess.”
You can’t make me do anything.
“Have it your way, then.”
Basil shuddered as the Castle sifted through his memories, picking his mind with surgical precision.
“Suitcases, I see.”
Some five years ago:
Darkness. How long had he been like this? Hours? Days? Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes.
I’m hungry.
His skin pulled painfully as he tried to open his mouth, caught by some rough, sticky substance. A hard barrier pressed against his body at every angle, rustling and slipping as he shifted. He could feel his knees pressed against his mouth, and below his waist…nothing but pins and needles. He squeezed his eyes shut as sweat started to roll down his brow. His hands were pinned somewhere between his chest and his knees, his fingers were slowly dissolving into static, and he desperately needed a restroom. Tears slowly crept down his face, mingling with cold sweat on his throat.
How long does this last?
He could hear murmured voices now, and muffled footsteps clipping on hard floors. A wave of nausea rolled over him as he swayed and bumped between the walls of his tiny prison. Pain shot through his side as he suddenly slammed against a rock hard surface.
“Not so rough!” The voice was muffled, and yet vaguely familiar. Basil’s eyes shot open.
Dr. Corvo?
He strained his ears,
A door slammed somewhere in the distance. Basil’s ears pricked at the sound of muffled scratching somewhere across the barrier, right outside his face. There was a loud zip, and blinding light suddenly streamed in. Strong arms wrapped around his chest, lifting him up and out of his prison. He watched as his legs dragged out of an open suitcase.
He was being held against a man’s chest now, looking down at his stiff black sleeves. A flash of pain stung his lips as someone ripped a strip of duct tape off of his face.
“You’re safe now, little fella.” Basil choked.
“Dr. Corvo?”
No one’s going to hurt you anymore.” He felt the Doctor’s hand on the back of his head, gently ruffling his curls. Basil’s face contorted as his vision blurred over. The gesture – once warm and familiar – now sat in his heart like a cold glass paperweight. The blinding lights, the vaguely familiar voices murmuring all around him, the Doctor’s hand on on his head, the pressure of his arm around his chest…it was all so vivid and so horrible and so awfully present. A soft whimper escaped his throat as his shoulders suddenly heaved, racking with barely repressed sobs. He could hear people milling around him now, voices hushed in concern.
“Poor thing,” someone whispered.
Please.
“Oh baby. You’re safe now.”
Please don’t say that.
“He wasn’t supposed to be awake for that one…”
Basil’s chest constricted, as if in memory of the painful airlessness in that dark suitcase.
“Mmm let’s not. That’s a rather pathetic consequence, isn’t it?”
Some two months ago…
Pain exploded in the back of his head as he slammed into the ground. Basil groaned, gazing up listlessly into the smoky black night. Sasha suddenly stood over him, his moon white hair stirring in the dead breeze. There was a faint flickering at his finger tips – the Veil, bending and cracking and molding to his presence. His pale feline eyes narrowed in a grin.
“I always looked forward to fighting you back in the labs, Basil. But honestly?” his lips quirked up in a crooked smile. “You’re kinda boring! That wasn’t even a fight, you know. I guess I’m not really seeing what all the hype was about.” He sighed. “Oh well. Guess that’s one less classmate to worry about!” He flicked his hand in a halfhearted wave and grinned. “Thanks!”
“Oh please. That wasn’t even that painful.”
“Oh really? It could have been. You wouldn’t want to find out what he’s capable of in this dimension now, would you? Because I sure would.” Basil froze, blood draining from his face.
“No,” he whispered. He grit his teeth. “Well, you seem to know an awful lot about The Shrike, so you would know better than anyone that he wouldn’t come. He hates authority, but I’m sure you already know that, being an expert in Shrikes and all.”
“Oh really?” the Castle purred. “I think he would if given a proper incentive. I’m sure you have something he’s been desperately searching for. What was it again? The Core? Was that it? Is that you, Basil? Because it would be a shame for your pesky friend’s search to come to such a swift end, now, wouldn’t it?”
*laughs as one fey*
@irishcelticredflowercrown oh I see. Of course! It’s really fun getting familiar with everyone else’s stories here!
*laughs as one fey*
Okay, I’m probably going to miss a lot of stuff, skip over a lot of things, etc. but otherwise it’s too overwhelming and I’ll end up writing nothing so *gestures vaguely* I give up, enjoy. XD
(I should make that my motto… XD)
Aydin
He was dead and I felt nothing. I stared at Qatar’s body as though it was an inanimate object. Quin was in complete shock, his eyes wide. He wasn’t going to recover from that anytime soon. I’d seen it before.
Blood dripped down my hand and fell heavily into the puddle forming around him. I barely even felt the cut. I didn’t feel anything. I really was heartless.
The castle was threatening Lorcan. He was trying to argue, to refuse, to protest. It wouldn’t get him anywhere.
Another silence fell. I hated those silences. It meant the castle was picking out a target again.
“Siya, I’m giving you a last chance.”
The title made me feel sick to my stomach.
“I’m not a Siya and I’m not going to,” I said, stubbornly.
The reaction came instantly.
“Boy, where are you?” The voice made me feel sick. It was my father’s voice and he was angry. I would give anything never to hear it again.
Before I could stop myself I spun around, trying to find the voice, trying to find where he was and how I had to get away.
It was as if all the fight dissolved out of me. All the anger, all the stubborness. Nothing was left. I was just scared and alone and too young for this. I felt fifteen again.
My gaze flitted along the walls, into the dark corners. The others hadn’t reacted at all. Had they heard it? Had it just been me? Had it been the castle? Could it do that?
Doubt washed over me.
“You have a ridiculous imagination.”
I heard it. I had heard it. It was real. Wasn’t it?
“You know this is all your own fault. Your actions have consequences and you made these problems yourself.”
I took a step backward, then realized that was towards Qatar’s lifeless body. I had to get away from it. I had to disappear. I couldn’t stay here. It wasn’t safe.
“You deserve this, stop trying to avoid it.”
I pressed my back against the wall and looked down, looked away, tried to vanish.
Sudden pain flared across my back, sudden burning as bad as I remembered it, from my right shoulder all the way down my back, just like that first time. I couldn’t forget. I deserved all of it. I might have cried out. It was happening again and I couldn’t stop it. The castle didn’t even have to touch me to make it all happen again.
I touched my right shoulder, my fingers trailing over the smooth scars, one of them split wide open again. I stared at the hot blood coating my fingertips. Was it real? Was any of this real? Was I hallucinating?
“You don’t have to keep doing this. You can stop it, right now. It would be so easy.”
Giving in was so easy. It wouldn’t be the worst thing I’d done.
“You’re the most faithless person I’ve ever seen.”
“All you’ve ever done was betray and you’ll never do anything else.”
“Nobody trusts you. Nobody is that stupid.”
I was. It was all true. Everything they’d ever said about me was true. What did it matter? No matter how I tried to be better I kept getting dragged back. The world was so cruel. Nothing was fair. I was so tired of standing out. Complying was so easy.
The second cut came, and it hurt worse than the first. Tears caught in my throat. It wouldn’t stop. It would never stop. Nothing would ever get better. It was over for me and it had been a long time ago. Had it ever begun?
My legs finally gave way beneath me and I sank down, trying not to exist. Everything hurt and it was all so loud. Everything was loud and none of it was real.
I turned over the knife in my hands. It probably wasn’t real. Nothing was real. I couldn’t trust anything, least of all myself.
“It’s so easy. It won’t even kill them. Just a small cut. The world is so cruel, you won’t be worse than anyone else.”
The world was cruel and I wouldn’t be. I would make it better, even if I disappeared in the darkness surrounding me, even if it swallowed me whole and left nothing. I couldn’t become like him. I would never.
“I won’t,” my voice sounded smaller, younger, cracking with emotion, pain, or both.
I threw the knife down, away from me, far out of reach.
The pain wouldn’t stop but I would bear it. I had to. It was the right thing.
_____
…. That was really freaking depressing XD Anyway, that’s all I had for Aydin’s challenge! The castle will probably leave him alone after this, I wasn’t actually planning to make it carry through on its threats, that would mean too much character down-time.
Also, I have no idea how much of this was real and how much was a hallucination. Y’all get to decide XD If you see anything you want your character to react to, it’s real, go wild XD
you might want to start preparing you know who for part two, just saying
She’s going to absolutely freak out, all her mama-hen instincts ready and alert XD As the story got darker my plan for her reaction shifted from “My horrible gremlin child causes problems” to “My horrible gremlin child adopts everyone and kicks the castle’s rear for hurting them” XD
Both are accurate XD
Also, she’s more than ready. She’s kicking at the cupboard door and I don’t know how long that chair I propped against it is going to keep her in. I haven’t written her in almost three weeks and she’s screaming at me.
Without darkness, there is no light. If there was no nighttime, would the stars be as bright?
@rose-colored-fancy alright I’m going to start writing part two then! Ngl I’ve been rushing through my posts just to get to this one part. I’m so looking forward to this absolute impending chaos lol
Also, why is it that almost every single character in this castle (with the exception of misu and klein) were abused as kids? We really are all writing the same character lol
*laughs as one fey*
Also, why is it that almost every single character in this castle (with the exception of misu and klein) were abused as kids? We really are all writing the same character lol
All writers share a brain cell and it says murder and torture. XD Tbh I’m getting tired of writing all that angst, it’s exhausting XD I just want to write cute happy stuff again… XD
alright I’m going to start writing part two then! Ngl I’ve been rushing through my posts just to get to this one part. I’m so looking forward to this absolute impending chaos lol
Can’t wait to see what evil scheme you come up with! Poor Basil…
Without darkness, there is no light. If there was no nighttime, would the stars be as bright?
Also, why is it that almost every single character in this castle (with the exception of misu and klein) were abused as kids? We really are all writing the same character lol
Qatar and Quin weren’t either. (Ok, I guess Qatar isn’t in this castle anymore…sniff.)
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
https://silverpenstrokes.wordpress.comOne unwanted, though partly foreseen, consequence of killing off Quin’s brother. Quin is going to be a mess…
So now the fiddler’s bill comes due. XD (This ought to be some consolation to all those who have been calling to me in capital letters with much exclamation marks, lol) Also, @rusted-knight stop writing posts like that…you’re gonna make me cry!
Quin
He could hear Qatar’s voice and the Castle’s above him, but they seemed to come from somewhere else.
‘Little Brother!’ The scorn in his brother’s voice echoed through Quin’s mind. ‘Little Brother.’
“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. ”
every day for ten months. In your eyes, in the way you looked at me; the way you walked…
Quin’s grip tightened on the knife. His hand was sweating.
“I knew it was just because you were a little coward.”
Coward.
Mama’s pale face, with all the life drained out of it. Qatar’s eyes, dark and angry and changed–oh, forever changed!
“Yellow-livered, running from danger like a dog with it’s tail tucked.”
He wanted to call his brother’s name, but all that came out was a bubbling sob, like a child’s.
He’s right.
Qatar dropped to his knees beside Quin and tore the knife from his hand. “Where were you hiding this?” A mutter so low it was hardly audible.
Do it. Do anything. Quin’s shoulders shook.
“You’ve never checked your anger before. Let it go now.” The castle’s voice. Of course it was. Quin braced himself. Just do it.
The sound of a blade rattling on the stones ten feet away. But he clenched his fist.
“Come one, Miller. One little slap. I’m not even asking you to kill him.”
Please, Qatar. It might even ease the guilt that was pulling like a lead weight on his chest. “Yellow-livered, running from danger like a dog with it’s tail tucked.”
Every word was true. Quin squeezed his eyes shut and waited. You’ve wanted to do it for ten months; I’ve wanted you to. Just do it and get it over with.
“Coward,” hissed Qatar’s voice in his ear. Quin lifted his head. For one instant his eyes met Qatar’s. they were dark with anger; almost hatred.
I can’t get away from it. Don’t you think I would if I could? I hate being a coward just as much as you. Come on–hit me.
His brother’s eyes suddenly cleared. His fist relaxed. His eyes stayed on Quin’s as he stood up. “No.”
Quin couldn’t tell if he was talking to the castle or to him.
With a rush of wind above his head a stone spear, perfectly aimed rammed through Qatar’s body.
No. No, no, no–
“No!” Quin tried to jump to his feet. His left leg wasn’t there to help him, and he collapsed again.
Qatar fell, almost on top of him.
blood.
Quin took a shuddering breath.
Blood. Smoke. A horse’s scream. He swallowed the echo of that wild shriek that rose in his throat and crawled forward.
“Qatar!” He shouted his brother’s name, but it came out more like a whisper.
His brother raised his head. Already his face was pale. It was–so much like Mama’s! His dark eyes were glazed with pain and…Quin couldn’t bring himself to admit what else was glazing those eyes.
Their gaze met, and for once Qatar didn’t look away. I love you, little brother.
Quin stretched out his hand, reaching for Qatar. His arm, his tunic, anything. A strong, gloved hand gently picked up Qatar’s and set it near Quin’s. Quin gripped it tightly. His brother’s grip was loose, his fingers stiff.
Then there was no grip at all.
Quin didn’t know how he got up. He didn’t remember getting there, but he was standing, his hand clamped on his one crutch. Then he was running. Falling. Getting up and going again. He could only see one thing: the knife.
With one final staggering leap he was on the ground next to it, gripping it tightly. Where was the best place?
Just then something, heavy like a body crashed into him, a hand gripping his wrist.
“Put that down!” The knife was wrenched out of his hand and he lying on the floor panting, crying. Alone. The person who had kept him from killing himself stood above him, tucking the knife in their belt, out of his reach.
Quin drew his legs up and hugged himself, wrapping into a ball.
First Mama. Now Qatar.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Both my fault.
~~~~~~
@everyone IDK who this was. I couldn’t decide because everyone else seems occupied. I was considering Niarok, Aydin, Misu or Evie, but Klein would be a good option too. If nobody want to claim it I wrote it in such a way that it doesn’t really matter who. 🙂
Sorry for the long post.
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Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
https://silverpenstrokes.wordpress.comIs it alright if I have Evie claim that?
"The darkness is seldom complete, and even when it is, the pinprick of light is not long in coming."
@emily-waldorf Is it alright if I have Evie claim that?
Sure!!
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
https://silverpenstrokes.wordpress.comThanks!
Evie
Evie stared in shock at the terrors occurring around her. Thanks to Niarok, she’d come through unscathed, but that man’s death had made her sick.
They were apparently up against an unbeatable force.
Now Niarok and his sister were getting threatened with death at the hands of a traumatized assassin, and Evie couldn’t decide whether she would rather try to help or run away.
The one-legged man who had apparently been the dead man’s little brother was hysterical.
He leapt up and grabbed a crutch, which he used to run and fall frantically.
Towards the knife.
Evie felt her heart leap into her throat.
No. They’d had enough death for one day.
She’d tried suicide once. Never again.
Never again.
The man’s hand made contact with the knife, and he crouched like he was trying to figure out the best place to stab himself.
Evie yelled, ran, and tackled him from behind.
She grabbed his wrist in one hand and wrenched the knife free with the other.
“Put that down!” she cried, rolling off him and standing, tucking the knife in her belt where he couldn’t get it.
He curled into a fetal position, crying, and Evie’s heart broke for him.
She saw herself in him.
She’d been called a coward thousands of times. It had never bothered her until it began occurring to her that maybe she wasn’t one. Then it nearly broke her.
She pulled the knife around behind herself so the man couldn’t reach it, then she knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey,” she whispered. “I know your brother just died and you hate yourself, but don’t make a bad decision until you’re calm. Trust me, I’ve learned that the hard way.”
"The darkness is seldom complete, and even when it is, the pinprick of light is not long in coming."
Qatar and Quin weren’t either. (Ok, I guess Qatar isn’t in this castle anymore…sniff.
@emily-waldorf Ah I forgot about that. But they still have a ton of family related trauma, with Mama’s death and all 🙁Also, poor, poor Quin. Just when I think he couldn’t possibly make me feel any sorrier for him…
*laughs as one fey*
Ah I forgot about that. But they still have a ton of family related trauma, with Mama’s death and all 🙁 Also, poor, poor Quin. Just when I think he couldn’t possibly make me feel any sorrier for him…
You can say that again, lol. Poor guys. I really need to finish their story so that they can be friends.
:'( I know. I’m glad it’s hitting you in the feels though. (honestly as his author I’m getting tired…I’m like “dude, come on. Get over it.” So I’m glad.)
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
https://silverpenstrokes.wordpress.com -
This reply was modified 4 years, 4 months ago by
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