#Castel tag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zillyeh · 6 months

Text

From the Cracks

companion piece to this one

Characters: Zipper Anthem, Castel Baclef

The near open walls of the Serpent’s Hands breezy cathedral let in every sound from the Old North. The repairs that had been done over the sweeps were never structurally sound enough to keep out the elements. It seemed like this time the ON was really putting in some effort, though. They had the funds and manpower for it now. Crumbled walls had real supports jutting out from the top, reaching past where there once may have been stained glass windows to touch the well abused roof.

At the base of the construction, looking far too long and gangly on the floor, squatted a purpleblood. The old drone-brick that still stood strong behind the pulpit interested him, much to the chagrin of the Undertaker.

She thought she was doing enough for him- keeping his uppity little south city bakery from getting Smiles branded bricks through his window- but no. His little bestie twisted her arm with another bribe to let him up here. In her church.

If money weren't such a problem she never would have entertained this.

"Have you found what you're looking for yet or what?" Undertaker Anthem demanded, her voice rough and annoyed through her mask. Castel flinched at the sound of her voice, but let out a gentle hum in response.

"I may be getting close," he said, leafing through his old, battered book. "It is supposed to be low enough for the damage not to have reached…" The lilt of an Enfaris accent kissed the edges of his words, making Zippie grimace more. Clowns. He lacked the paint, but that didn’t matter. It couldn't. She couldn't afford to not be on edge.

"You could always help," he continued, "It might be-"

"No. I'm staying parked right here." For all her posturing and glares, her voice nearly gave way to the fear underlining her behavior.

"Relax your shoulders, then."

"Excuse me?"

"I feel your tension from here," he said with a flippant wave of his hand. "Even if I did bite, my teeth are rather flat, no?"

When she didn't respond, he turned. He flinched once more, struck by one of the daggers she was glaring into his head. He huffed, making some show of not looking away, pretending she wasn't scary. She was. Even seeing past the hardness in her silvery eyes- to her exhaustion- didn't change that.

Castel tilted his head curiously, fixated on her for a moment, before shaking his head back to the bricks.

“It’s a spiral of names,” he started as if she’d asked. “Small, barely meant to be noticeable. Etched with an errant piece of metal off of one of my ancestors’ companions’ hands.”

Ancestors. The ones that truly existed were nothing but trouble. Bessba’s? Jackass. This guy’s? Forcing him into her church to look for more clues about his silly little existence. Those who could trace their lines like that- who knew that someone specific was responsible for them- were just so…

Annoying.

He traced his long, skinny fingers along the brick, continuing to talk to her (or himself, it was hard to tell) as he scooted further down the wall.

“It's supposed to be at about sitting height, thank goodness. It would be helpful if these walls weren't so dusty, but who am I to- oh!”

Castel's sudden noise and spring to action made Zippie jump. The purple grabbed a brush from his pocket, enthusiastically sweeping at a cracked brick near the middle of the wall. Zippie clenched her teeth, watching him with something beginning to approach curiosity. Some dusty graffiti was that exciting?

“Find what you're looking for, finally?” Zippie asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Shush- I mean yes, sorry, I just don't want the integrity of the brick to be compromised. Oh look at that, that must be all of them…” It sounded like he found what he was looking for. As much as she didn't want to turn her back to him, she had other things to do. He'd be done soon enough. Zippie turned back to her pulpit as he talked to himself, sketching in his notebook.

“Baclef of course, Payark, Sclera, Humera… Goz…. jam or is that silent? H sound maybe, Aarika-”

Castel’s mumbling suddenly felt like a brick to the back of the head. For a moment she thought she misheard him, but the goosebumps on her arms were too solid for that to be the case.

“What did you just say?” she asked lowly, dangerously. She did not turn to face him.

“...Aarika? Sorry, I know I shouldn't speak that name too loud, but-”

“Before that.”

“Oh! Goz-Gozjam?” The sitting purple adjusted his glasses on his long broad nose. “Am I pronouncing that incorrectly?”

“No, you're not,” Zippie said before she could stop herself.

“Okay!” he said cheerily. He then paused and looked to the Undertaker, who'd turned to face him. The purple's fear of her had been overridden with curiosity. He looked at her, really looked at her and said:

“Your eyes… your pupils are teardrop shaped.” Given his tone, that meant something to him. Zippie hissed lowly behind her mask, straightening her posture further. He flipped through one of the weathered old journals he brought with him, but didn't look like he was reading it as he continued.

“‘It's a funny thing, seeing Gozjam with her eyes uncovered. Rare a sight as it is. So many of us have heavy eyes, it's the nature of our species, but the droop of her lids and the shape of her pupils truly ice the cake of her melancholy. Were she anyone else, I'd only call them droplets- but with her? To refer to them as anything but tear drops would do a poetic disservice to her character.’”

“Stop it,” Zippie ordered as he took in another breath to speak. He stubbornly opened his mouth again.

“‘It's a shame she has to hide them, and the unfortunate rest of her face. She is more lovely than-”

“I said enough,” she snarled this time. She felt something dangerous under her skin. Electric. Defensive. “Are you done over there? Did you get what you wanted? I didn't say you could be here all night.” He paid her bristling no mind, fully facing her on his knees. Examining her from his distance away. Seeing her.

“You don’t even know, do you?” There was something soft to his voice that made her want to punch him. “Anthem, my intention is not to distress you, but-”

“You’re failing, Baclef. I think it’s time for you to go.” It didn’t sound like she’d take arguing well. He sighed, glanced back at the wall, and began to stand. In that same instance, something dawned on her that turned her blood to ice- and her behavior violent. She tugged him up by the collar while he was still knelt down. Her eyes were wide now, showing off the entirety of those teardrops.

“What else does it say about her in those books of yours?” she asked with a panic that didn’t suit her. The rasp in her voice was more prevalent when she raised her voice like that, making her all the more terrifying. Castel stammered. He was unused to being roughhoused, even more so at this angle.

“N-nothing, they were friends that’s-”

“Physically,” she growled, shaking him again. He let out an honest-to-Messiahs eep.

“He didn’t- tall? Skinny, robot arms-” Another shake interrupted him. He frantically searched his memory for the correct answer. When he looked her in her eyes, damaged red sclera and silvery pupils above a tight leather mask, it clicked.

“Oh, oh- nothing, nothing. I swear on my life he never described her past shape. It was a secret that he kept until they destroyed this place. I always thought it was rather obvious, since- ah!”

Zipper shoved him back, looking like a snake about to strike. Castel dusted himself off, scrambling back towards the wall as she approached. Unbidden sparks lit up the rivets at the back of her neck, letting off small, ribbon-like bursts of electricity.

“I could be wrong?” he offered, clearly wishing he was less motor mouthed. “I could be way off. It doesn’t matter. Even if I knew I wouldn’t- I couldn’t. For the obvious wrong it would be of course, but-”

“But?” she said through clearly clenched teeth behind that zipper. Her sparking wasn’t getting worse, but it wasn’t stopping.

“...Our ancestors were friends.”

That stopped her in her tracks. The Undertaker swayed on her boots, clenching and unclenching of her fists without taking her eyes off of the heap of giant purpleblood on the ground.

“Get the fuck out of my church,” she said, something almost airy about her tone this time. The shift startled him enough to grab his things in one swift motion.

“Yes ma’am. Sir. I’m- I’m sorry.” Castel scrambled to his feet, still making her wince when he was drawn to his full height. He nearly dropped his books in his haste to leave.

“I’ll have, um, our mutual contact compensate for the trouble,” he called back as he strode towards the doors. “I really am-” He stumbled a bit over a piece of rubble that hadn’t been moved yet, making more of a show of leaving than this already was.

Zippie stayed unmoving where he left her, staring at that corner of wall. The slam of the church doors woke her back up, and with a shake of her head she said:

“Annoying.”

#Zilly drabbles #Castel tag #Castel Baclef #Zippie tag #Zipper Anthem #i didnt edit this goodnight

9 notes · View notes

zillyeh · 1 year

Text

Business Arrangements

Featuring: Castel, Voss, the he-queen of Delhon City Synopsis: The Castle bakery has been operating in south Delhon city without paying its Underground tax for a long time. Its owner, Castel, takes a little trip to fix that. In the least lethal way possible.

Closing the cafe was always a relief at the end of the night. As much as Castel loved to bake all day, flopping face first onto something soft was far more appealing right now. Gatsby had gone home ages ago- Cas needed to prep a few things for tomorrow- so the only company he had was the sound of his keys jingling as he locked up. Even the street was dead.

That was, of course, until the near silent vehicle pulled to a stop at his curbside. He didn’t notice until the sound of the door rolling open startled him.

“Mr. Baclef, I presume? Heard you was real tall,” called the troll who got out. He was armed unsubtly-two holsters at his chest- and freckled as Castel could ever hope to be. He was also a good two feet shorter, but that sort of thing often didn’t help Cas as much as it should. He wore a lazy, serene smile, and deeply tired looking eyes. They were green in all the places they weren’t teal, and looking in at Castel in a way that bordered on lecherous.

“Uh, C- I prefer Castel, but yes.” He stammered, foolishly shoving his keys into his pocket. “Can I… help you?” The tealblood rolled his neck, perhaps thinking of his answer for a bit longer than necessary.

“Wellllll, not me exactly,” he said, stepping in the direction Castel did, drawing one of his guns. “Y’see, an associate of mine, big blue guy, you know him? Yeah you know him- y’see he told me-” He blocked Castel again. “-that-” Once more. “-geeze, you’re awful rude to a guy with a gun aren’t you? Can you at least let me finish? There we go, atta boy. Now. I heard you said something to one of my associates, to the effect of “If your boss wants my business so bad he can talk to me in person”? That you, big guy?”

“I- I don’t recall.” Castel had a knife on his belt by Orphia’s insistence, but it felt more than useless right now.

“Mm, sure you don’t,” the tealblood hummed, haphazardly twirling his weapon in the air. “Well, I’m here to take you up on that. Name’s Voss.”

“You…” Castel cleared his throat a bit, straightening up. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Oh, no, no, no sugar pop, not me. Though I’m downright flattered.” Voss paced a bit closer, almost within touching range. “Uh, why don’t you think of me as say… your chauffeur. Mr. S don’t like to come out in person too much, y’see. Not for this, anyways.”

“I…” A rock sank to the pit of Castel’s stomach and lower. That van was certainly just big enough to fit him.

“Is this a kidnapping?” He asked, a deer in headlights, almost literally. Voss let out a laugh.

“Only if that’s your thing, Castel. Can I call you Cass? I like Cass, less syllables. Anyway. Get in the van please.” Cas tried as subtly as he could to twitch his fingers to his belt.

"And… if I don't?" It was a stall for time- if he could just-

"Oh the list of things that I'm allowed do…" Voss sighed, idly pointing his gun at Castel's sneaking hand. Finger ready on the trigger. "You definitely don’t wanna hear it. If you're half as smart as you are cute you'll go for a drive with us. Hour or two. Tops."

The van was more… comfortable than Castel thought it would be, given the circumstances. Even with his knees nearly folded up to his ears. Voss had bound his hands in front of him for “Safety purposes, y’see.” He also took his knife, just in case. Voss sat cross legged in the back of the van next to him on the floor. At some point after Cas was properly restrained, he’d produced a rubix cube from somewhere.

“So, like.,” he started, fiddling with it without even looking. “Big fan of your blueberry muffins.”

“Ah, you’re the one Dale picks them up for, then?” Castel watched his hands, one side already totally red. Focusing on his hands was perhaps a better idea than thinking too hard about the bumps in the road.

"Uh huh. Got a bad sweet tooth on me. Been tryin' to make a batch half as good, but there's something… missing."

“I use my own blueberries,” Castel sighed, wondering if all kidnappings were this… relaxed. “From my garden.” Sure he’d been threatened with some intense weaponry, but aside from that he’d hardly been touched. Or even yelled at. Maybe he was simply too much of a pushover to be worth that, though.

“Oooh that’ll do it,” Voss said with a nod, orange side done. “I’ll have to see if I can keep one of them bushes alive. Never been great at the whole gar-”

The van went over a bump that jostled the both of them hard. The seats had been removed just to fit all eight something feet of Castel in the back, so he shot up nearly to the roof. Voss just fell over.

“Watch where the FUCK you’re going you dumb asshole!” He shouted, banging on the black glass divider between them and the driver. “We got precious cargo back here! Not to mention our purpleblood buddy!” He sighed frustratedly, then turned back to Castel. “Amature drivers, amiright, Cass?”

“Uh… huh.”

The ride could have been long, could have been short. Anticipation made it feel like days. Every second they spent on the road smacked Castel in the face. He'd told no one to expect him- they know how long it takes him in the back sometimes. He wondered if they'd somehow known that when they sent Voss to pick him up.

"Where exactly-"

A knock from the other side of the glass cut him off. He hadn’t even noticed that they stopped moving.

"'Bout fucking time," Voss grumbled crawling to Castel's side. He used the pink knife he'd taken off Castel to undo the several zip ties it took to properly restrain him.

"We both know you're smart enough not to try anything, don't we big guy?" Voss said to Cas' puzzled expression. Castel opened his mouth to say something, but lost it when the door rolled open again. He could see nothing past the massive head of the feline that appeared there.

"Oh, oh no, no no, absolutely not-" He started to scramble back further into the van. Voss rolled his eyes, yanking him back through the door with more strength than Cas was expecting.

"Princess don't bite unless you scare her, Cass."

Voss shoved him out into a surprisingly large courtyard, with an even more enormous mansion attached. It was not the sort of place that looked like it should fit within city limits, but their drive couldn't have been that long. Could it?

Taking in his surroundings was low on his list of priorities at the moment. He could only have eyes for Voss and the big cat that was, at the very least, a lusus. The door slamming behind them again jumped Cas out of his thoughts.

Princess let Voss push Castel past her, following dutifully behind them up the small ramp to the front door. On either side of the double doors was a massive olive and a bigger blueblood- the blue Castel recognized.

"Dalein."

"Hey Cass," he said, more sheepishly than a door guard ought to be. "Uh. Sorry?"

"Don't talk to him," Voss said to either one or both of them. The olive pushed the door in for them. Princess brushed past Castel's long skinny legs, making him jump closer to Voss.

"Aw, skittish much?" Voss teased as they entered the manor. "Would holding my hand help?" Cas wrinkled his nose and said nothing. When his eyes properly adjusted to the inside he gasped.

For as big as his own home was, it wasn't this extravagant. There couldn't possibly be enough marble on Alternia to line those floors and walls, could there be? Certainly not anymore. The lavishly decorated foyer could have fit his bakery in it twenty times at least- not to mention that he could have stood on his own shoulders three times and barely brushed the ceiling. It made him feel… small. He wasn't sure anything ever had.

"Pretty, ain't it?" Voss grinned, pushing him forward. "Where's Mr. Smiles at, huh Princess?"

The tiger made some small noise in the back of her throat, seemingly as acknowledgement as she slinked forward, taking the lead in place of Voss. He held tight to Castel’s arm as he led him deeper into the manor. Dozens of paintings and statues lined the walls, but Cas couldn't absorb what any of them looked like.

What sort of person owned a hive like this? Who needed ceilings high enough to accommodate the tallest trolls on Alternia and then some? That lusus' eyes were an unnaturally bright emerald, but that didn't mean anything. Was he a mutant? Could he be? It would make the secrecy make more sense, as if it already didn't.

Orphia had warned him once about doing business in the city. He wished he had listened to her- hadn't kept Dale's visits quiet so she didn't worry. Now he was deep in the lion's den with no one expecting him for… hours…

The shock of being kidnapped was starting to wear off now. Cas wasn’t sure when he’d started shaking, or if it was ever going to stop, or if he’d live past the next twenty minutes, or if he’d ever see anyone again… “Ors” and “what ifs” started piling up in his mind, somewhere between Voss and the tiger. They threatened to topple him over, if his clumsy, jittery legs didn’t do it first.

He had powers didn’t he? But what use was he like this- anxious, without practice and his actual eye?

"Ay, Alternia to Castel," Voss said, snapping his fingers up in his face. They had reached a door near the other end of the mansion. Cas didn't realize they'd walked that much already. He swallowed nothing, mouth too dry to even form words.

“Aww, cat got your tongue, kid?” Voss teased. He and Princess swapped places so he could open the door.

The room might as well have been a closet compared to the rest of the hive. The ceiling was just high enough to to accommodate Castel's horns, and the room- office? had about as much space as his bakery's back room. The white walls were interrupted by dark panels of blue and expertly decorated shelves, making it feel like an airy prison.

It wasn't the room that made Castel's heart nearly burst out of his chest, but the jadeblood sitting at the dark wood desk. His horns were familiarly shaped, but far, far taller. Wrong shaped pieces of Salvad's face, weathered and wrinkled, looked at him with a polite smile. His old capped fangs glinted dangerously as he stood. Castel wondered if Salvad knew about him. If his insistence that he didn’t have any curiosity about ancestors and things like that was because he knew about him.

Because he wanted to keep him away from him.

"Mr. Baclef," said the troll with his friend’s beauty marks and moving fangs. “A pleasure to finally meet you. I’m sure you understand my inability to do this sort of thing entirely on your terms, hm?” He extended his hand over his desk. Castel stood frozen until Voschi nudged him in the room.

“Y-you,” Castel stumbled forward, reaching for his hand as politeness took over his body before his brain. “You’re- I-” He whipped his head around for support or perhaps escape, but Voss stationed himself between him and the door. Smiles’ metal finger was cold against Castel’s clammy hands.

“You can call me Mr. Smiles. Take a seat,” he said, gesturing to a heavy leather chair facing his desk. “We have a couple things to talk about. Won’t take long.” Castel did as he was told, only half hearing him over the sound of his own pulse. He’d screwed up majorly. He should have listened to Orphia- he should have told her the second Dale had started showing up. The second he’d heard Smiles’ name. In his naïvete he’d almost certainly pushed Mr. Smiles to something drastic.

As he spoke, Castel tried to focus on something, anything about him to ground him. He sauntered around his desk, leaning up against it as he gave his pitch.

“I understand how difficult it is to start a business in Delhon, believe me I do.” His accent betrayed old Delhonian. The type of old only heard from the sitting Delhon heiress’ advisor. He had earrings dangling in the mane of his hair. Gold. Shaped like little suns. Eclipsed by black every time he moved his head.

“That section of the city is terribly dangerous, you know. Or it can be, if you’re unlucky. I feel like I’ve been very patient in waiting for the answer I want.”

His curls framed his face the way Salvad’s did on the rare occasions he left his hair down. Thin scars marred his arms, barely visible but very present. Even small in stature, the man was solid. Scarily so. He held himself up about ten feet taller than he looked with centuries of confident violence.

“I won’t let you leave without us coming to an agreement, Baclef.”

He had two guns at his back. Both of them were teal trimmed, but not exactly Voss’ color. Some part of Castel’s stomach churned, but he couldn’t interrogate why before Smiles shot:

“Your ancestor wasn’t this quiet.”

Castel’s attention fully snapped back to what he was saying. Smiles raised his eyebrows, almost amused.

“There you are, hello, welcome back to Alternia.” Smiles poked one of his horns, metal digit sending uncomfortable vibrations down to his scalp. “I was under the impression that La Corps was going to end the lineage of you terrible, terrible people. Unless you crawled out of one of my caverns? Tsk. Wonder if I still have Father Jortis’ number.”

“What do you want from me?” Castel’s mouth was too dry to make the words fully form, but Smiles’ big ears caught every frightened syllable. He flashed him a smile. Cas felt like his veins were full of ice. Perhaps lead, with how difficult fear made it to move.

“Only to keep you safe in Delhon, hon,” he said with a genuine air of concern in his voice. “I have a vested interest in small businesses started up in my territory.”

“I didn’t know,” Castel whispered weakly, head swimming with his ancestor’s journal entries. Was he there? He knew about Jortis, was Smiles hidden on those pages somewhere?

“No, of course not, but it’s an easily rectified situation, isn’t it?” The sweet of Smiles’ tone almost made Castel want to cry. “Give me half The Castle and I’ll keep it very very much not on fire. Maybe even keep your little… caverns breach a secret, hm?”

No! He wanted to yell and fight and tell him off, but Castel was weak. Weak and between four guns, and being threatened with the only thing his ancestor had ever been afraid of catching up to him. What Syraah had been reluctant to say she’d hid them both from when she brought them here so many sweeps ago.

Castel looked Smiles in the eyes for the first real time. Long lashes, deeply tired, feline pupils wide and black with a hate that his tone didn’t betray at all. Without them in little slits, they almost resembled his friend’s. He wasn’t capable of hate like this, though.

“Salvad,” was the word that came out of Castel’s mouth. Thinking of him put him on the tip of his tongue, made him slip. Perhaps he thought evoking him would make him pop out from behind the desk and save him.

To Castel’s surprise, Smiles’ ever present polite smile faltered to a frown. Voss stiffened at the door.

“Excuse me?” Smiles asked, pretense of sweetness entirely gone.

“I- I don’t know why I said that, I’m sorry, please don’t- he has nothing to do with this, if you know where he is leave him a-”

Smiles pinched his fingers in front of him, and Castel immediately shut his lips. His eyes flicked back to Voss, who shrugged when Cass’ eyes followed. Smiles swore under his breath, something cracked in him from hearing Salvad’s name alone.

“Boss…” Voss’ voice was soft near the door. Almost… sweet? Smiles’ brow knitted together as he closed his eyes, biting his thumb in frustration.

“I know,” he said. “That doesn’t change this.”

Smiles put his mask back up as if he hadn’t been rattled. Leaned against his desk, relaxed. Gripping the edge like he was about to rip it off.

“Mr. Baclef,” he said, his voice dripping venomous sugar now, “You’re going to give me The Castle. You get to run it as you like, I’m just going to keep preventing bricks from flying through your windows.”

Emboldened by his distress, Castel said:

“No.”

The left handed open slap across the mouth made him wish he’d said anything else. The edges of Smiles’ finger cut under his bad eye, sending immediate rivulets of blood down his cheek. Castel gripped the arms of his chair, stunned that he hadn’t shot him first.

“Fine,” he snarled. “I’m sure your establishment could use some broken glass and scorch marks.” His angry eyes met Voss’. Castel could swear he heard growling outside the door. “Get him out of here. Don’t touch him either.”

“Yessir,” Voss said with a heavy sigh, opening the door again. “Up, kid.”

Castel wiped the blood from his cheek as he stood, neary stumbling his way into a concussion to boot. Voss led him back out- when had they gone upstairs?- past more furious looking orange big cats, past all of Smiles’ fancy things, past Dale again at the door. All of it was a blur, even the van ride back to the bakery. His shaking was too bad, his mind was racing too hard for him to notice anything. It almost felt like a dream- one that was only proven real by the cut on his cheekbone.

Once Castel had been dumped back outside the bakery, he collapsed to the sidewalk. Voss shouted something out after him that he didn’t catch before it drove off again. Sobs wracked him, reoriented him as he scrambled back against the building to ground himself. It was a a type of panic that made him feel like he was going to die. Right there. His heart would give out. None of his street neighbors would dare check on him. Not after tonight, he was certain.

Coming down off of it felt like he’d been punched in the chest a hundred times. Painful in every part of his aching body, but especially his eyes. The only thing he could think of was to pull out his phone. He had to tell. He needed someone. There was only one thing that could help him now, and he was certain she’d react similarly hearing what just happened.

Finding her contact was instant. Calling her made his teeth chatter.

“Cass?” She picked up almost immediately.

“Orphia,” he said, a dry sob interrupting him, “I messed up really, really badly.”

#Zilly drabbles #if you can tell where i stopped editing no you cant. mwah #Castel tag #Castel Baclef #Voschi tag #Voschi Horjan #Smiles tag #Mr. Smiles #Business Arrangements

8 notes · View notes