#char:castor

[attollogame]

Weeping Willow? (It's my fav tree too :P)

Willow, Weeping: Mourning—Castor and Rembrandt

"Perhaps it's a parable?"

"For what lesson?" There's a terrible clattering noise as he tosses another wooden leg onto the fire. The curve of the calf and the curl of its toes makes an unsettling sight as the carved oak slowly begins to smolder. Rembrandt's lip curls in disgust as the flames flicker in his attentive gaze before he turns away. Castor is otherwise indifferent to it; he could never be empathetic, let alone capable of faking so.

"Folly of man?" Rembrandt's fingers curl tighter around his wine stem as he allows himself a drawn out sip before continuing; "Or murder of a child. They are like children to you, are they not?"

Castor holds one puppets head in his hand, a mockery of a certain bards works, before tossing that into the fire as well. The flames devour the new food he has offered until the puppets face begins to melt, turning more into a monstrous scream then the impassive smile. "They're puppets. Don't talk about them like they have a soul."

"But they do, don't they? Have a soul?" He sets the glass down then and leans close, his hands holding Castor's forearms and his chin resting upon his shoulder. The other man tenses, a tight frown on his lips, before he continues throwing pieces into the growing flames. "You put a piece of yourself into them—every single one. An act like this can be counted as suicide, you know. When you burn their bodies, you burn yours as well."

"You're drunk." Castor shrugs off his grip, causing the other man to stumble a bit before he breaks into raucous laughter. He sinks back into his chair and grabs for another bottle, causing the glass that rests on the table to fall. "You shouldn't be near flames in this state."

"You're mourning—shouldn't I be worried about you rather then the other way around?"

"What am I mourning for?" Castor's brow furrows as he looks back at Rembrandt, as he looks back at the failed puppets, counting the numerous bodies he still needs to purge before he can finally rest. Their warped skulls, distorted hands, and broken torso's all bring a feeling of disgust to mind. They are far from the perfection that he seeks—they are far from the perfection that's expected.

"Yourself. That is your body that you're burning, after all." Rembrandt states it so clearly that Castor almost fails to hear the slight slur in his words. "Poor love. Poor, poor love."

Castor yanks another limb free from the nearest body and throws it with more force than needed into the flames, watching as they vomit sparks across the concrete floor in response. He doesn't look back at Rembrandt, but he knows the other man is smiling at the tantrum.

"If you're going to stay, then drink and be silent about it, will you?"

#char:castor #char:rembrandt #thank you!!!

[attollogame]

torpe with a character of your choice 👀

torpe   –   to be desperately in love, but unable to admit your feelings or approach the person

With: my fav pining duo, Rembrandt and Castor

He makes it a habit to fray at least one thread on his suits, because it is his only ticket to see him. Castor lives in solitude in an isolated part of the Courts, far from the light that Rembrandt lavishly basks in, and so to meet him he needs to descend from his podium like some disgruntled deity into the deep levels of the institute.

It's worth the hassle, if only to capture a moment of his time.

See, Rembrandt cannot recall the exact moment he began to see Castor Cirillo in a different light from the rest. Perhaps it was his elusiveness, his aversion to light and life, that so drew Rembrandt's gaze. Or perhaps it was the art that Castor could create; he reminded Rembrandt of Hephaesteus at times, doomed to the furnaces and yet creating marvels that were the envy of the world above. He had a talent at tailoring as well—he once told Rembrandt that it was similar to puppeteering, in that one just needs to feed the thread to make everything whole again.

Rembrandt would have appreciated the sentiment, had he not been preoccupied with the feeling of Castor's fingers caressing his flesh.

The issue is, Rembrandt is not a forthcoming or commitment kind of man, and nor is Castor. Rembrandt has thus found himself caught in torpe; a feeling of deep love, but an inability to say so.

Which is why his favorite place in the entire Court is standing on Castor's stool, just as he is now. He wears nothing but a dark skirt tied around his waist, leaving his pale torso exposed to the flickering light of the fireplace, as Castor darts around him to measure this or that. His cool fingertips leave blazing trails across Rembrandt's skin, like comets in the night, and it takes all of his concentration not to let out any wanton sounds at the gesture.

So instead he looks down at him with an expression of rare fondness as the other man moves about; if someone were to walk in, they'd think themself intruding on an intimate meeting between two lovers. That is until they notice Castor's obliviousness, and the longing glint in Rembrandt's dark eyes.

When Castor finally does raise his head to lock his gaze with the other, Rembrandt turns away, as though burned by the stare, and shrugs his blazer back on.

"Is that everything?" He hums, stepping down from the stool and doing one button up. Castor re-rolls his measuring tape and gives Rembrandt a single nod of affirmation. The taller man smiles and turns to sweep out of the room.

If someone were to have walked in and remained, then they might've seen the longing glint in Castor's eye as well as he watches Rembrandt leave.

#char:rembrandt #char:castor #thank you!!!

[attollogame]

What would they describe as their perfect date? What’s each member flirting style? Who is the big/little spoon? for Rembrandt/ Castor 👀

Rembrandt and Castor

What would describe their perfect date?

Castor would prefer something quiet and just with the two of them; namely a dinner, or a walk at night where they can just talk. Rembrandt is more of a showman and prefers something big and extravagant, like a carnival or a party. If these two were to go on a date, they'd need to compromise.

What's each member's flirting style?

Rembrandt is a very playful and physical flirt; he prefers expressing his interest non-verbally and using the verbal part for banter and teasing. Castor is a more polite and reserved flirt; he holds back in order to avoid rejection or embarrassment, and won't initiate physical contact until the other person does it first.

Who is the big/little spoon?

Rembrandt would be a little spoon and Castor would be fine with being the big one, hands down

#char:rembrandt #char:castor #thank you!!!

[attollogame]

CHAR: CASTOR CIRILLO

A close companion of Markos Crowe, Castor Cirillo is the younger sibling of co-Crowes member Ofelia Cirillo and an advisor to The Crowes Court. Beyond this, he’s in charge of Skipper Trade and Registration, meaning he’s one of the few people aware of the entrances into Attollo [including the hole one]. 

Despite being born post-Rapture, Castor Cirillo never developed any powered abilities like other children did. Due to this, he felt greatly disadvantaged growing up, and became a recluse from both family and peers. In this time of voluntary isolation Castor began to hone the artform of puppet making, which grew more elaborate and advanced as he aged. This caught the attention of Markos Crowe, who offered Castor and Ofelia employment so long as Castor contributed his creations to the government. Castor’s puppets are now used by The Crowes Court to accompany police on enforcement missions when the targeted is above a Class C in the database. 

Despite his employment in a government organization, Castor still retains his distance from others around him. He often skips Crowes meetings without explanation and only converses with other Generals via third-party communication. Even then, the communications are often curt and to the point. The only individuals who have seen his face and spoken with him in person are Markos Crowe, Ofelia Cirillo, and Rembrandt Roosa, the latter only because he was painfully persistent about it. 

Outside of his creative hobbies, Castor enjoys word searches and photography; he often lurks around Attollo at night to capture images. His counter part in Ovo is Dreamwalker. 

#char:castor #aest

[attollogame]

264 for whoever you vibe with? 😳

264:  “How about you stop whispering nasty things into your boyfriend’s ear and concentrate, instead?”

Modified slightly 

There’s a pleasant amount of options for drinks at the meeting, which is something that Rembrandt feels grateful for. He’s been forced to sit through far too many discussions like this one without something to keep himself preoccupied with—or entertained with—and they’ve always dragged on to the point where he’s begging the others around to just end him. 

The drinks aren’t the thing bringing the most delight to Rembrandt, though. That honour is reserved for the man who stands hunched against the wall, trying his best to avoid being noticed by anyone else. The sight of him brings great delight to Rembrandt, and he finds himself stalking towards the figure without a moment's hesitation. 

“Castor.” The name comes out as a purr as Rembrandt siddles himself up against the other General, his dark eyes glimmering with amusement. He holds a glass out—some nondescript alcoholic drink—and raises his eyebrow. “Normally you’d find a way to get yourself out of these events. Did your well of excuses finally run dry?” 

Castor offers no immediate answer, instead choosing to accept and down the drink in one go. It’s only after he lowers the glass again that he bothers to reply. 

“Some of the enforcement officers were killed in the most recent mission. It’s my duty to explain to the Crowes why my puppets failed to provide the,” he pauses, mulling over his words, “adequate response.”

“Ohh, so you’ve been forced out for a scolding, have you?” Rembrandt says this in a mere whisper as he leans close, his shoulder bumping against Castor’s. He doesn’t fail to notice the way the other man tenses at the brief contact and, out of respect, he moves away again. 

“A scolding is an understatement,” Castor seethes, his grip on the glass tightening. Rembrandt glances down at it with only slight concern. If the glass shatters and embeds in the other man's hand, at least he’ll have an excuse to leave the meeting, although giving up conversation for a hospital room isn’t really an appealing trade. 

Before Rembrandt can say anything else, the sound of the meeting room door opening draws both their attention away. It takes less than a second for them to recognize the figure stalking in—

Hypatia Crowe, one of the three meeting leaders, and she looks absolutely furious. 

Rembrandt thinks the dead enforcement officers might have something to do with that. 

“Well, if you start crying,” he murmurs, nudging Castor again, “I’d be more than happy to provide a means to cheer you up.” 

“Rembrandt.” 

A chill runs through his body as Hypatia’s voice rings out from across the room. Turning ever so slightly, Rembrandt puts his most charming smile on and raises his hand.

“Hallo, Hypatia. Is something amiss?” A soft laugh escapes from his lips which works to put to ease the people in his close proximity. He counts that as a blessing of his powered abilities—drawing people into a false sense of security. 

Unfortunately, this rarely works with Hypatia. 

“How about you stop whispering nasty things into your boyfriend’s ear and concentrate, instead?” The words come out as more of a barking order than a request, and for a moment Rembrandt finds himself actually at a loss for words. Castor goes completely tense beside him. 

Rembrandt simply smiles again. 

“As you wish.”

#char:rembrandt #char:castor #char:hypatia #thank you!!!! #this only got done bc im in seminar rn and...dying #Anonymous

[attollogame]

🎵 For Castor and/or Rembrandt? I really loved their relationship in that prompt you wrote 🥰

send 🎵 and a character for a song!

For TCC’s #1 unofficial couple bc they’re both too dumb to act <3 Talk Too Much by Coin

#char:rembrandt #char:castor: pair:rembrandt&castor #thank you!!! #Anonymous

[attollogame]

01: abilities for... anyone.

1. Abilities

Listen I just have a lot of feelings about Castor, our one unpowered individual out here

He's come to recognize that Icarus is his polar opposite. Whereas the boy of the myth flew close to his dreams—felt their flames dance across his skin and burned its brightness into his retinas—he has always been too far away to experience that warmth. He craves it, as any poor creature would, but he can't even experience it vicariously through those around him.

Perhaps that's why he doesn't like attending these meetings. When he sees others using their abilities, be it creating rain or causing vines to sprout from the earth, he's constantly reminded that he'll never experience that.

They can never know how he feels, though. Any of the other Generals would automatically perceive that as a weakness and use it to their advantage, which is precisely why, as he looks down at the shattered glass and his torn-up hands, he's grateful that he soundproofed his workroom.

Imposter syndrome is a disgusting condition that sits inside the stomach like a stone. It comes and goes in waves, burning through your veins and weaving doubts so tightly that they form a blindfold over anyone's eyes, leaving them to see nothing but their own fears. It had taken all of his willpower not to collapse into a panicked state when he was forced to attend a meeting earlier this morning.

Every time he had to sit in that room, every time he had to bear witness to the other's light, he felt scalded and burned. They were never warm or comforting towards him; they looked at him with scrutiny and doubt and he knew exactly what ran through their minds: why would Markos allow someone like this to be a General?

He reaches down and begins to scoop the shards from the broken mirror that hung on his wall minutes before. So preoccupied in his thoughts is he, that he fails to hear the sound of his workroom door opening up, or the accompanied footsteps that follow suit.

It isn't until the visitor comes to a stop behind him does he realize he isn't alone. His body goes stiff and his eyes go wide as the stranger kneels down, resting their chin on his shoulder and entwining their hands with his.

"Castor, Castor, Castor." A voice as sweet as ambrosia fills his ears as thumbs rub his wounds. "Is this your way of telling me you're becoming an ascetic? I dare say that this is a direct affront to my wonderfully hedonistic lifestyle if that's the case."

"Rembrandt," he sighs, trying to ignore the sensation of the other man's touch, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to check in on you, and it appears that this was the right decision to make." Rembrandt pulls him to his feet and turns him around so that they're facing one another. Still gripping his hands, he inspects the wounds and gives a small tut. "You're lucky I received a new shipment of cosmetics, or else your beautiful hands may have been lost forever."

Rembrandt sends him a sly smile and Castor jerks back by reflex. Although the others burned Castor in his presence, Rembrandt had always been different—to Castor, he had been nothing but warm and comforting. To Castor, he is what it would be like to be embraced by the sun.

And this singular thought terrifies him.

"Come," Rembrandt sighs, not waiting for Castor's response. He rests a hand on the other man's back and urges him forward. Castor tries to ignore the electric sensation produced by his touch. "I'm in need of a date companion tonight anyway."

#char:castor #char:rembrandt #thank you!!!