"I work better in silence."
authentic • principled • petty
Hasty claws scrape at a future that evades him, torn away when it seems just within reach— and instead he is thrust to heed a call— to put a lull in his plans— and for once, he cannot refuse.
However slight in frame and lacking in strength he may be is made up for, threefold, by his wit. Sharp eyes glean what most would dismiss to be a clue, and the harder it is to follow, the more determined he grows. Having invested his entire life to the sweet escape— the thrill of the hunt— he wavers before the sheer domesticity within the town he tentatively calls his home.
personality
Often assuming the role of a leader (most times intentionally), Kastor has spearheaded many a search for criminal behavior, and has solved every single one ever since his younger days. His mind sharpened by the myriad books he consumed in his youth (dwelling heavily in the murder mystery section of the local libraries) he's nimble, both physically and mentally— wired for the next problem that might arise.
Bursting with energy, albeit in an atypical manner, he's keen on accomplishing as much as he can once he's set his sights on it. And what bright eyes he has! Clear, in spite of the sins that taint the world. Abiding by his strict moral code almost to a fault, the man holds himself up to standards higher than one might suggest for someone his age, questioning himself always— what does it mean to be good?
Reliable as he may be, he lacks charm... to a worrying degree, at that, fixating on frivolous details when angered and foolishly refuting any pleas to calm down. Quick to anger as he is on the draw, his tongue is a razor, and in waving his wit like a cruel blade, he sheers relentlessly through the egos of those who are kind enough to listen.
But what's worse is his pride, inflated ego swelling until the haughty hierophant tramples even his allies in his attempts to find a solution. However genuine he might be, his curt attitude results, all too often, in closed doors. Missed opportunities. What might've saved a humbler soul with a silver tongue is lost on the man too eager to accomplish as much as he can with what time he has.
Breathlessly chasing after a dream that evades him, time and time again, Kastor's ambitions are bound to outlive him, until he learns.
"We should go our seperate ways here."
history
Raised by a humble couple who doted most ardently on their only child, Kastor came to a conclusion early on in his childhood— he was a boy! And that was that.
The child grew up in a secluded village, a ways off the shore of the lake that provided their meals, and profit. It waas small enough that most everyone knew each other, and when a new face showed up, older folks were quick to acquaint themselves with the stranger. Such was life! His parents having stumbled into the neighborhood just a couple years before his birth, not a single soul did not know of the pair's tiny detective, lauded for his knack for gleaning clues from what most parties considered a dead end.
Often was he brought in to solve more trivial cases, like who stole my socks? It could not have been a goblin, regardless of what the stories say! Or what bit this pipe to cause this leak? Those teeth are unlike anyone in the village, little Kat!
Clever was the boy, always tracking down the perpetrators, demanding that they pay! Sometimes it was the baby with sharp teeth, still teething in spite of her age, or the cheeky brat that liked to make hand puppets! He had a keen eye, that one- and blind would the rest of the townsfolk be, to ignore such talents.
Life continued on like this still, though, resolving trivial issue after trivial issue and soon enough, the boy tired of matters that only stifled his chances for something more. He wanted to find work- real work, as a real detective! No more bullshit, he wanted a real case, and his demands would be met, one way or another.
In a month's time, he got his chance. He failed— or rather, his superior claimed he failed. Thinking otherwise, Kastor fled— to a new, up and coming town... He'd show them. He would find out what it was these unnecessarily chipper folks were on about. Fairies? Spirits? Puh-lease! There must be something darker going on here?!??!
stealthily sleuthing
"You should turn back, I think."
LOCKED.
