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@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?”