Caspian X doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
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age in ##: 66
gif (150x150): https://media.giphy.com/media/xUA7barH5dxzaXqkAo/giphy.gif
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Joined: 13-December 16
Last Seen: Jun 12 2018, 09:44 AM
Local Time: Jun 20 2018, 07:30 AM
73 posts (0.1 per day)
( 0.16% of total forum posts )
Jun 12 2018, 09:44 AM
When Caspian had first come to this world he’d regarded electronics in much the same way he had magic – he had no idea how it worked, had no real desire to learn more but saw the need of knowing enough to avoid disaster when forced to interact with it least he summon the White Witch by typing the wrong thing on a keypad. He’d later learned that summoning the White Witch would be a new one but there were stories about people who could summon Cthulhu-like monsters, which he understood to be something with lots of tentacles and teeth, using laptops and mobile phones so he felt his fear was not entirely unjustified in this regard even if voicing it had made his colleagues at work laugh and shake their heads.
In any case he’d sat through a few evening and library-hosted classes on using emails and Microsoft office, smiled politely along with jokes he didn’t understand about lolling cats and talking paperclips and slowly got the hang of using a small box to talk to people far, far away. He still didn’t know what half the functions on his mobile phone were, never mind how to use them, and still regarded his laptop asking his permission to update things or tick boxes saying he agreed to stuff with deep mistrust, but he wasn’t completely illiterate in terms of technology and this time at least he’d walked into the shop armed with a specific request and a budget to stick to. Namely he wanted a decent games console – nothing too flashy, just something that worked and played a decent range of games without overheating or crashing too often – and a couple of games Lucy had mentioned that she either liked playing or would like to play. He’d never tried playing these sorts of games himself although he did have a couple on his laptop that he enjoyed but if Lucy liked them then he was sure he would as well. Besides, it would give them something to do when she came over and he was hoping that she’d come over a whole lot, with or without her sister.
The shop bell jangled as he pushed the door open and again when he let it fall shut behind him, closing out the heat of the day for the welcome cool of the air-conditioned room. Seeing that both assistants were busy talking to other customers he wandered over to one of the display stands of games, thinking that even with the research into games consoles he’d done online he’d have better luck finding what he was looking for amidst the colourful cases than he would amidst the sea of larger boxes. Rilian
Jun 12 2018, 09:36 AM
“It’s scary how normal it becomes.”
The mother of one of his daycare kids had told him once, eyes fixed on a point a thousand miles away. Somehow their meeting to discuss her kid’s aggression had devolved into getting a coffee together, Caspian listening quietly as she spoke. He liked to think that it was something he was good at after years of listening to people and trying to understand their problems in his role of king, even if he was no expert to offer mental and psychological advice and help. “The dead walking.”
An odd smile had twisted her features then, her fingers shifting on her mug, and Caspian wondered for a moment if she missed it. Her world, hellish or not. “You stumble across a car you always wanted one day, or you hear a snatch of Christmas carol or find a book in a series you used to read and you think, ‘was that me? Did I live in that world?’ and you know you did, but…”
She’d trailed off with a shrug. Caspian had started taking steps to make sure her son felt safe and secure, that no monsters with dead eyes and blood rimmed teeth could get to him there.
He’d never asked what the woman and her little boy had made of the dead walking in their new home but he’d seen the way she walked, the confidence in her son now that there was something of their normal here as well. It had been a glimmer of a silver lining.
At this moment he’d still rather that Storybrook had experienced a sudden influx of talking animals and tree spirits that had become his reality overnight in much the same way as walking corpses had become hers though.
He went for speed over stealth as he ran through the woods towards where he’d heard the scream – if he’d heard it others had and would be converging on the area, the dead moved far slower but were also relentless in his experience of rescuing Susan from them so his best bet, he felt, was to get in, grab the girl and get back out with her before the dead arrived in large enough numbers to be overwhelming.
If they weren’t already overwhelming. He was a good fighter and he had his sword with him having been running through drills on the edge of the wood when he heard the scream, but there was no way he’d be able to take out more than a handful if they were grouped together and came at him as a block. He’d still try for he was still a champion of Aslan and he didn’t see that turning his back on someone in need was something he could do and still say that with any confidence or sincerity, but chances were it would end with both of them being taken captive.
Even if he hadn’t been planning on asking Susan out tomorrow night it wasn’t something he wanted.
So he ran, faster and faster through the trees, trying to hear or see any of the walking dead in the vicinity over his pounding feet and around the trees praying that, this time, he wasn’t too late.Lilliandil
Jun 12 2018, 09:28 AM
She should have died in starlight.
Not yet a full day since her death and that was the one coherent thought running through his head.His wife was a star’s daughter and she should have died in the starlight that was her birthright.
“Caspian?” His head jerked around, away from the window and the glaring light of the morning sun, and his mind jolted back to a present with far fewer people in it that he expected. Just Drinian, standing by the long council table that had the air of the recently vacated – chairs not quite aligned, a stray piece of paper, a smear of ink still fresh enough to glisten. He thought he could hear the echo of voices, of his councillors, in the corridor beyond the partly open door.
“There was a meeting.” He said slowly, his mind filled with cotton wool and swimming uphill. There’d been a meeting and his wife had died under the midday sun while he worked at this very table yesterday. “Corn tariffs.” The look Drinnian gave him made him question that – had it been corn tariffs this morning? Yesterday? Was that tomorrow? Where would his wife be tomorrow, in body and soul?
“I sent them away.” Drinian interrupted the spiral of thoughts once more, then shrugged at Caspian’s uncomprehending look. “Trumpkin helped.” He opened is mouth to say that the world must be ending – Trumpkin and Drinian working together without butting heads or needing him to act as an impartial judge was almost unheard of – but his teeth closed on the words with an audible snap.
It was far too close to the truth.
“Caspian?” Drinian said again as the silence stretched on and Caspian went back to staring blindly out the window, looking for stars obscured by the light of the sun. Did her father know already? And how to send word? He couldn’t leave his country again, not now, there was far too much going on.
“There’s the court-”
“No.” He blinked, turned to face his oldest friend with a frown on his face. He’d got up this morning, opted not to sit with his wife this morning, because there was a country to care for. To run. Because running it would make things better, would distract and ground him and… and he had no idea what else to do.
“Your wife is dead.” He flinched and Drinian stepped closer, stood right in front of him and wouldn’t let him look away as he wrapped his arms around himself and hunched his shoulders as if to ward off a blow. “Your wife is dead. You are not a child at war, you have friends and you have allies.” A rough, calloused palm cupped his cheek, wiping away a tear he hadn’t noticed falling. “You have a son who went out with his mother yesterday and came home without her.”
A lifetime ago he’d told Caspian that he had a son – had shouted it and hugged him and spun them around in a circle before Caspian had ignored all established royal protocols regarding these things and run into the room to see his wife and their baby boy.
“Trufflehunter is going to hear the appeals that can’t wait until next time. Trumpkin is giving formal apologies and excuses to people who never expected you to meet with them today anyway. I am starting the arrangements for the funeral. You need to be with your son.” A hand on his shoulder, then suddenly an arm and he was being pulled into a hug, his forehead resting on Drinian’s shoulder as the older man held him close and stroked his back. “Caspian, my friend, we can give you that time.”
For a moment resistance – then he relaxed, burying his head into Drinian’s chest and hugging him back, pressing close against him as if he could steal some of his friend’s calm strength that way.
“Thank you.” He whispered and then the hands were at his shoulders again, Drinian’s tired, sad and red-rimmed eyes meeting his.
“He’s in the gardens. My wife will keep people away from you both for the time being.”Rilian
Jun 12 2018, 09:07 AM
The day was overcast and, if not exactly cold, at least brisk and damp with sea spray as he guided the small craft through the rocks to the island beach. Later in his life Caspian would look back and be unsure if he preferred it that way for the reality it was or if he’d have preferred it to be a warm, sunny day that was just made for spending time with his family on a beach because it was the last chance he was ever going to have.
Mostly he’d just be grateful that he looked at his wife and realised how quiet and pale she was, looked at his son and realised how much he’d grown and looked at his work and realised that there was nothing so pressing that it couldn’t wait another day. He’d be grateful beyond words that Drinian had helped him make it happen, making the boat and supplies ready while Caspian talked to his wife and son about the sudden trip and wrapped up as much work as he could the day before, grateful that he’d shooed them out the side door at the crack of dawn with promises to send word if there was, by chance, an invasion or large scale disaster during the day even though he rolled his eyes as he said it, grateful that he was even now bearing the brunt of the ire of the court in general and Trumpkin in particular in his oldest friend’s absence. He’d have to find something to do for him in return even if Drinian would, as always, impatiently say that he needed no favour in return.
But all of that was in the future and today, Caspian was quite determined as they passed the final stretch of rocks and made for the cove he’d been landing at for years, ever since he and Drinian had found the place while teaching themselves to sail and in their adolescent thoughtlessness claimed it as entirely their own secret place, was going to be about his family. Maybe he’d be able to make his wife smile with his usual bad jokes about the rocks and flowers, maybe he’d be able to talk to Rilian about what he wanted to do in the next few years and not just what the world expected him to do, maybe they’d just spend all day huddling together to keep warm and trying to light a fire to heat whatever food Drinian had packed for them and it was possibly a mark of just how Caspian viewed his private life that that situation sounded like a fun way to spend the day rather than a miserable one.
The cove, it had to be said, did not look terribly promising in the grey light – sands that Caspian knew would be a brilliant white in the summer sun looked grey themselves and the trees looked almost as if they were huddling together against the damp wind rather than standing tall and proud. The rocks looked craggier and more forbidding than they did in summer, the sea colder and brutally disinterested in human life, and yet as the hull of their little boat grated on the sands and he jumped out to get it up that bit further and secure it against the tides he could feel his spirits lifting and his lips curving into an all too rare genuine smile.
For better or for worse he loved this place and, somehow, it would always strike him that there was nowhere he’d rather have been for a last day out with his wife and son before a serpent took one and a lady in a green kirtle the other, leaving him alone with the memories of them.Rilian
Mar 8 2018, 06:11 PM
Caspian had not asked too many questions about Valentine's day after learning it was named after a saint as, if what he'd heard about saints thus far was an indication of the entire breed, someone had probably died horribly. As far as he was concerned and wanted to know it was a celebration of love in the month of February, when spring was on the horizon but not quite arrived and everyone could do with a bit of cheering up as the winter dragged on. It had somehow bypassed him entirely last year - probably a good thing, considering his mood at the time - but this year he knew about it and was not only in the mood to take part but had people to enjoy the carnival with.
Admittedly they were going as family thing rather than a romantic thing but in honesty that didn't bother him at all. Romantic love might be the main theme but there were many other types to be celebrated and honestly if it was going to be romantic love only then a lot of other people were going to get left out, the three of them included."Susan! Lucy!"
He called out waving a gloved hand over his head as soon as he saw them and after a quick glance around to check for traffic jogged over to them, a big smile on his face and glad that he'd decided that a carnival called for his nicer warm casual clothes rather than the protective gear that had been his first instinct on hearing that it was a saint's day. Admittedly he wasn't entirely sure what a suit of plate armour would have done against, say, a Catherine wheel or being burned alive but some saints had been killed by blades and arrows and it would have helped with that at least.
In fact if he'd known about the arrow booth in advance he might have dressed up as a knight just for the excuse of a mail shirt."How are you both?"
He asked, coming to a stop in front of them. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold and he'd stopped feeling either a few minutes ago as he waited for them but he seemed remarkably cheerful for someone who moments before had bee shivering and stamping his feet to keep warm. "Shall we go in?"Susan Pevensie Lucy Pevensie