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Castor does not know what she is. She was someone's brother, once. Then she was a criminal, then a prisoner. Now she is a keeper, or, at least, that's what Altair says. But is she a keeper, really? She's not powerful like she's meant to be. She's not brave. She's not smart. Who is she?
Castor and Pollux were born to Mina and Aster, two lovebirds who didn't get handed the best deck of cards. Aster died shortly after the twins were born, leaving Mina stranded with her overbearing mother-in-law with two young children, one of which had the power of a keeper, while the other... did not.
Castor, with no saprophyse of her own, lived in Pollux's shadow. Pollux was carefully trained into his role as keeper, something he resented and rarely took seriously. His sister, on the other hand, treated it with the utmost importance. Pollux was needed. She was not. Regardless, she would guide him to greatness.
In a way, Mina loved her children. But she did not want them. She could not stand their grandmother. Pollux reminded her of his father, who was gone. Castor reminded her of herself: helpless, hopeless, trapped by circumstances. How were either of them to live? Meanwhile, Pollux grew more disconnected, more uncaring. And Castor's frustration built into anger.
One day Castor snapped.
Her brother was squandering his abilities. He didn't take their relationship seriously. He didn't take his role seriously. And how was Castor to watch, when his success reflected upon her? When he was everything to her?
On their sixteenth birthday, Pollux took his last exam in front of the eyes of their community and family. His heart wasn't in it. He'd fail, and make the both of them look ridiculous. Castor was furious. All this, for what? She confronted her brother in the amphitheatre. Things went downhill quickly. Next thing she knew, Castor was kneeled over his body, hands around his neck. Blood haloed his head.
It was a freak accident. She couldn't have known that he'd land wrong. Regardless, Castor was now a murderer.
Killing a keeper easily makes you internationally wanted. It's also very politically convenient for whoever happens to capture you.
Castor was on the run for two years, adjusting to the saprophyse she absorbed from her brother, until one day she received a message from her mother. A bid to reconnect. To protect her. Castor was desperate. In actuality, Mina herself was a pawn. She was told her child would receive a lesser sentence. It was a lie. The last time Castor saw her mother, her own hands were being cuffed.
Castor spent two more years in prison--a remarkably short time for someone on death row. She doesn't remember much, just that it was bad. She spent the days counting down until she was standing in front of a steel guillotine, facing an endless sea of people. It was supposed to be the end, until a mysterious researcher with a flashy dagger swooped in and whisked away her corpse.
Castor later awoke to pale, prying eyes, and thick stitches through her neck.
Castor hasn't the slightest clue who she's supposed to be. In a way, it feels like she stopped developing when she was sixteen. When she killed her brother. Even now she's supposed to be dead, but Altair's interference means she continues to push on. What does she do with that? Who does she become?
On the surface, Castor is meek and unsure of herself.
She is awkward, unsure, shy. She speaks strangely, always second-guessing herself. She struggles with decisions. She rejects herself, over and over, hoping that the self-flagellation will make up for something fundamentally wrong with her, that if she repents enough then someday she'll feel better.
All because, deep down, she is still so angry. She's stubborn and, in many ways, spiteful, and knows that the same ugly part of her that reared its head before may come around again when she least expects it. So she must stamp that animal down, keep it tucked deep inside, and continue to let life happen around her, immobile.
painting • puzzles • cooking • stability
impulsivity • responsibility • the future
- Castor is incredibly particular about her hair. She takes excellent care of it.
- She prefers to wear comfortable, practical, and dark clothing.
- She rarely takes off the scarf, however.
- Sometime in the future, Castor loses her right arm. She does not get a prosthetic.
- Her blood is the same color as her saprophyse, as seen in her eyes.
