The man isn't anything extraordinary on first glance, but look closer. You might see something that catches your eyes. Perhaps its the pools of honey that sit within his finely chiseled skull, a brilliant blaze of white cutting down the the center of his face. Dark patches of black surround his eyes, giving his eyes the illusion of illumination. His striking features don't stop there, however. The majority of his body is clad in brown, a blanket of snow draped over his back. There are areas where the white melts away, allowing blotches of brown to show through. His mane is roached, tresses of ebony silk shorter near his shoulder blades and growing longer the closer to his head it got. Brilliant streaks of ivory break up the black, giving him a unique look. His forelock is long, the tip reaching down the length of his face, often irritating his nose. His tail follows the same color scheme, starting out in brilliant white and darkening to pitch black near the tips of his banner.

He is a hardy build, stature shorter at just 15.2 hands tall. This can be attributed to the blood that runs through his veins, his heritage worn proudly. Each leg looks as if it was dipped in white chocolate up to the knee, though his hooves are slate grey. Above each knee are dark chocolate stripes that look as if they had been drizzled lazily on his canvas by a paintbrush.

On the left side of his face there's a reddish-brown line that follows the contours of his cheek, from his eye to his muzzle. This paint-like substance can also be found along the arch of his neck, two lines pointing downward toward the ground.

"Never enough, wanted more, so predictable
A dark soul without a heart”

ISTJ-A

STRENGTHS

Honest and Direct-
Castle doesn't have very many secrets and he's not afraid to tell you what he thinks. He's abrasive, blunt, and to the point. You can always count on him to tell you his thoughts and know that you're getting nothing but the truth. He doesn't care enough about your feelings to try and lie about it.

Strong-willed and Dutiful-
Castle is strong-willed, bound and determined to do what he pleases despite what others may think. He doesn't care what other people think and will often ignore their advice if it's given unsolicited. Castle also makes it a point to do his job better than anyone else can. It makes him valuable, an asset that you can't - or won't - get rid of. If you need something done, he's the man who can do it. He doesn't half-ass the work he's given; he gives each job he's given 110%.

Very Responsible-
Despite the man's rough exterior, he's very trust-worthy. If he says he's going to do something you can count on him to see it through to the end. He has control over the tasks handed to him, his focus unmatched when he puts his mind to something. He doesn't like leaving a task or job unfinished- it's simply not his way.

Calm and Practical-
It takes a lot to rile Castle up. Many say he's out of touch with his emotions, stoic for no purpose other than being a robot, but such is not the case. Castle has learned from an early age that emotion is impractical. It gets in the way, it makes you do things you wouldn't ordinarily do- mistakes happen. It's far easier to keep emotions out of the equation. He is hands-on, preferring to see something done - and do it himself - instead of day-dreaming about theories or ideas.

Create and Enforce Order-
Castle cannot stand insubordinate behavior. He likes to feel like he's in control and losing that control makes him anxious. He creates rules and enforces those rules based off of his own morals and thoughts. Some would call him a control-freak, maybe some even see him as a man who believes himself to be a God. For Castle, however, he simply believes - no, no knows - he's right.

Jack-of-all-trades-
Castle doesn't have just one subject or task that he excels in. He is good at a lot of different things: he can be a warrior or a politician if the situation calls for it. He is a leader, a follower (if someone has proven themselves worthy of being followed), a worker, and a soldier. There is very little the man can't do if he puts his mind to it.

WEAKNESSES

Stubborn-
There is a downside to the strengths that he has. His ability to lead and make his own rules is a double-edged sword. He is hard-headed, unwilling to listen to reason once he's made up his mind. He lives and abides by the saying, 'his way or the highway,' and rarely yields to any man. If, by some miracle, you've managed to earn his favor, he may be able to be swayed, but I wouldn't hold my breath.

Insensitive-
The man, as mentioned earlier, is abrasive, and perhaps far too honest for his own good. He has no qualms telling you what he thinks, regardless of how hurtful it may think. He values equine who are like-minded in this sense: you're not going to hurt his feelings with some brutal honesty. The flip-side to this, however, is how intolerable he is when he's falsely accused of something. He has no patience for rumors and false accusations. Any one moronic enough to try will be swiftly dealt with.

Always-by-the Book-
To be clear, more often than not, the man plays by his rules and his rules only. He sees things in black and white. You're either wrong or you're right. There is no grey space in his mind. He doesn't like to break the rules without a good reason and he'll be damned before he's talked into it.

Judgmental-
You know how they always say never to judge a book by its cover? That isn't Castle. He will judge you by your cover and if he doesn't like what he sees, there's already a bad taste in his mouth. It'll be hard to make him change his opinion. That's not to say it's impossible, but it's definitely a challenge.

Self-blame-
Castle is known to blame himself for things that are out of his control. His personality demands that he be in control of a situation at all times, so it stands to reason that when something goes wrong on his watch it's his fault, no matter what. He's very hard on himself and has high expectations for himself. When he doesn't meet that bar he can't help, but dwell on it.



"Never will I follow,
you will never have the key”

You were born to a father and mother in a land that was far away - in a land that was forgotten. You don't care to remember your childhood. They were just fleeting images that seem to dart away like a ghost as soon as you reach for them. You remember the kind smile of your mother, the endearing tone in her voice as she dubbed you, "Castle." Your father was harder to remember. Stoic, quiet, a warrior through and through, but he loved you. He had his own way of showing it, not with words, but with his actions alone. You grew up fast and you grew up strong, but you had no idea of the trouble that brewed just outside of your perfect little world. You were protected, your city hidden away from a world that wished to destroy everything that you ever loved. Your people were strong and durable, but the outside forces that wished to pillage and destroy were persistent. The defenses put in place by your people were slowly wearing away, much like the water that cuts through the face of stone after years of persistence.

You were two years of age when all hell broke loose. You remember the smell of smoke filling your lungs, burning your throat, stinging your eyes. You remember the chaos, the screams of those unfortunate enough to meet those that wished to conquer your small world. There was no mercy shown to those that were struck down. With honeyed eyes widened with fear, you spun on your heels to try and flee. You could hear the thunder of hooves striking the ground behind you with a fury that rivaled the beat of the war drums in the distance. Fear was all you knew as you ran through plumes of smoke, the tears rising in your eyes only obscuring your vision more. You could hear the approach of hooves gaining on you, getting closer, reaching out to you--

"Son!" Your father bellowed, his muzzle nudging your right hip to garner your attention. You spun on your heels, ears painting back against your skull as you took in his ragged appearance. He was wounded in multiple areas, blood dripping down his legs in rivers only to stain the ground beneath his great frame. He was taller than you, standing at just sixteen hands, but he was capable. Proud. Everything you wished you could be and more.

"Papa, you're hurt--" the words had only just left your lips when your father shook his massive head, his sturdy columns carrying him forward with a haste that was hard to keep up with.

"Never mind that," he chastised in that tone of voice that told you now was neither the time nor the place to talk about that. "You need to escape," he told you bluntly, his words implying that he had no intention of following. You knew that argument would not be tolerated but that didn't stop the lump from growing in your throat. Obedience was expected. Together you trekked across the lands consumed by flame, your father leading you away from the stallions that killed without remorse. Your mind raced with many questions that would be left unanswered-- "Where was mom?", "Where are we going?" and "Why are they doing this?" all coming to mind but all remained unspoken. Your father's goal was to take you away from the savagery that was occurring behind you and in a perfect world, perhaps such a goal would have been obtainable.

This was not a perfect world. This was not a fairy tale and you are no princess.

What happened next is more or less a blur. A flash of black, eyes blue, and as angry as the ocean. The massive form barreled through the smoke and directly toward you. Fear and trepidation grip your heart as if it were tightly held in a vice. You could hear your father shout your name, urging you to move, but your legs were frozen in place. It was as if they lost their ability to bend. It was all you could do to remain standing. The wrath swirling in your attackers eyes ensnared you, paralyzing your lungs, and rendering you motionless. It wasn't until your father slammed his shoulder into your own, knocking you away from what would have been certain death.

You flew, body sliding across the ground before rolling once, twice, thrice. When you finally stopped, you could hear your father screaming at you to run. You scrambled to your hooves, mind startled out of the state of paralysis that you felt before. You threw yourself into your strides, hooves striking the ground as you fled from the devil himself. You didn't get far before you paused, sides heaving as you chanced a glance over your shoulder, back to the only place you ever called home. You couldn't see your father anymore or the giant brute that he had been fighting. All you could see was the burning remains of houses, shops, and temples-- places that you've known all your life. They were gone now, all that remained the ashes of memories now long gone - and you.

The memory of your home lived on through you, the tenacity of your people. You knew you had to leave. You steeled your heart against the fear that lingered at the edges of your mind, one last longing look cast over your shoulder before you carried on. Your hooves carried you away, the uncertainty of life unfolding before you like a path you were destined to follow.

You adapted to the life of a hardened vagabond, learning the rules of a world that wished to see you fail. The weeks turned into months, the months changed to years, and as you aged, you saw many different lands along the way. Now, you turn your sights to a new land.

"You can keep your rotten flowers
and that bitter taste too”