Kura Tsubasa's Story

It was cold in the workshop, so very, very cold. It was so cold, in fact, that if one were to take one step in from the outside, their bodies would reject the new temperatures and they would high tail it back out again. But that was how Castille liked it, and he liked the solitude that came with it.
It was certainly odd though, a mechanic's workshop being cold. It wasn't as if other mechanic's workshops couldn't be cold too, but it was odd in a different way. What do people normally think of when they hear the word "machinery"? Do they normally think of ice and cold? I cannot speak for the all the world, but I can say confidently that when most people think of the word "machinery", they think of heat and warmth; and in some cases, fire. Perhaps that is why Castille's workplace was odd, in the fact that upon initial entrance most people think they are entering a vegetable cooler and not a place for building weapons.

That was how Castille's day normally started. He woke up one hour before dawn- the early bird gets the worm, after all- and set to work building. He built all kinds of things, from digitalized potato cannons to knock-out-gas guns, but the constant throughout all of these projects was the technology. He couldn't build anything without it. Well he could, but his true abilities showed when there was technology involved. Thus, everything in his workshop except for the floor, walls, and ceiling had some sort of electronics inside of it.

Today, however, did not follow the routine. Like usual he woke up, brushed his teeth, took a shower, washed his face, and dressed. Nothing out of the usual. What was unusual was what followed. He had been operating on a malfunctioning supercomputer he'd built- no matter what he did, those ridiculous, supposedly-funny home videos kept popping up, and there was no way to get rid of them- when she's walked in. Strictly business, judging by the way she held herself; straight back, no nonsense expression. He'd been told that there was a mission for him, and in all honestly he had been baffled. He certainly wasn't a missions kind of guy- he was the mechanic, nothing more. Nevertheless, he certainly couldn't refuse. Given no choice in the matter, he'd simply decided to go and see how things play out.

A few minutes later, Castille had arrived outside the tower. As he walked inside, he felt his spine slowly curling with unease. He kept up so many facades that this rare moment of exposure really taxed him mentally- and his insides were practically trembling as he took each step. He was a Crossed, and had been raised a one. True, he was not a normal crossed- the fact that he was here at all made that painfully clear- but the stray mannerism from those days still lurked. For example, the closer he got to the Alpha of the Skulled, his peoples' natural enemy, the more his internal alarms screamed at him to turn tail and beat a hasty retreat. By the time he reached the door he had been searching for, his hands were shaking. He reached for the knob, steeling himself for the encounter and straightening again. Pulling the door open, he stepped inside and closed it behind him. It looked like he was the last to arrive.

"Oh Captain, my Captain! How may I serve this fine morning?" He smiled, but even he felt it was a little forced. Hopefully no one would be able to tell he'd just had a small episode outside that very door. He didn't want to be considered a fearful, trembling Crossed; but he wanted to be looked at as the one who was unafraid to be a part of the Skulled community.

Castille smiled softly at the Alpha, feeling foolish. There was no reason for him to be nervous, he knew that, but it was something he had no control over. It was something that had been drilled into him since birth, and it's practically impossible to just forget something like that. It was a bit like our views on fire. Some may love it, but nearly all of us have at least some level of fear for it. It burns, melts, and kills; but imagine if that all changed one day, and someone told you that fire healed instead of killed. Would you immediately just jump into it, your past fear forgotten? No, of course not. You would be at least a little bit cautious. And even if you found out there was nothing to fear, you wouldn't be able to help just the slightest bit of hesitation whenever you touched afterwards. Similarly, the man before him wasn't anything like how the Crossed painted him to be, but Castille still couldn't help the hesitation.

"It wouldn't matter if their streets were paved with gold and they ate off plates of diamond- I would still prefer to live here." Castille murmured, declining the offer of refreshments with a quiet shake of his head. He had learned long ago that eating with gloves that were not accessories was considered rude in most places, and he certainly wasn't going to take them off. They were one of his biggest embarrassments, his hands. "I appreciate that, thank you Sir."

He leaned back on his heels, picking up the file before him while he listened to the Alpha explain the situation. After he finished, Castille blew out a long breath. Such an enemy was indeed a problem for the Skulled, and it sounded like there have already been multiple casualties. If only a Crossed with such a power could have been around to cancel his sister's powers so they wouldn't have needed to sell her. He felt the skin on his forehead tighten as his eyebrows pulled together in irritation. At any rate, it was because of his sister that he was here today, and he would honor her memory in any way he could.

As the conversation was again changed to him, Castille's eyes widened. This was not just a mission to infiltrate the Crossed City and gather information, this was a mission that could result in the deaths of many of his former friends. True, he had abandoned them to live with the Skulled, but he still considered the Crossed his family- even if they did not return the feeling. It wasn't like he could kill family, and since it appeared he didn't have to go through with it, he considered dropping the mission and staying back to continue his work. But then he really thought about it, keeping an open mind to both options. If he went, he might have to kill someone he cared about, but then he would be fulfilling his whole purpose for being here in the first place- he did not want to be a part of the problem, he wanted to be a part of the solution. If he went, he would be able to say without hesitation that he did everything in his power to help the Skulled. If he stayed, he would just be a coward. He composed himself, making up his mind.

"Thank you for considering my situation, Sir, but I would like to go."

Then when the others spoke to him, he smiled, a genuine one this time. "A new member of the family... sounds nice." He said quietly, "Thank you Jake, and you too Elakida."