GREEK TRAGEDY.

CASTOR CASTELLANOS 38. tracker & mercenary. "You are at the same time arrogant and self-loathing. You are a puzzle. But the ancient truth remains: as the light grows dimmer, things begin to become harder to see. You have tremendous potential, potential for joy or hate, light or dark, life or death. But in the end, you choose."

[ccastellanos]

❛❛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 , of an empire. you smile and lick it off . that'll be what makes them fear you . –––––––––––––

FULL NAME. Castor Emery Castellanos

NICKNAMES. Cas, Athos (his professional alias)

BIRTHDAY. September 18, 1986 ( 38 )

OCCUPATION. Tracker & Mercenary

RESIDENCE. Downtown

GENDER / PRONOUNS.  Cismale ∘  He/Him

HOMETOWN. Nottingham, England

PINTEREST ╱ CONNECTIONS

personality .

zodiac chart: -- sun, -- moon, -- rising

mbti personality: intj

moral alignment: neutral evil

ennegram: 5 x 2 (maybe 5 x 6 as well)

hobbies / interests: chess, hacking, technology, hunting

positive traits: perceptive, bold, adaptive, skillful, quick learner

negative traits: diabolical, doesn't show concern for others, isolated, closed off

family .

parents: angelina castellanos ( mom ), ivan castellanos ( dad )

siblings: younger sister named iris ( wc )

children: none

other: tba

breakdown .

tw: disappearance, murder, guns, trauma

Castor was born to nomadic parents who settled in the farmlands of Nottingham, England. Later, they welcomed his baby sister into the world and their family of four had finally become complete.

For most of his adolescence, the Castellanos were known around their small town as the mythical "swamp people" because they didn't believe in conformity and resisted modern technology and civilization. They were firm believers that in living off the same land their ancestors sprang from, they remained the purest versions of themselves.

This often meant that Castor and his sister were pretty much seen as social pariahs in their community and were often targeted by local teens who would make the trek out to where they lived to taunt them for "fun."

Meanwhile, all they wanted to do was be normal. To go to school, to make friends, to essentially live like modern day citizens. Unfortunately for them, that wasn't in the cards. At least not yet.

One night while Castor and little sister Iris were playing, they stumbled along the dirt road of their nearby town and witnessed a grizzly murder. Horrified, Iris screamed behind the bushes they hid behind, attracting the attention of the sleek, mesmerizing assassins. Shortly after they made their way toward them (to silence them), Castor urged his sister to run while he bought her some time.

He returned home later that night soaking wet and exhausted to parents who berated him for putting himself and his younger sister Iris in danger.

For a short while, it seemed like the dust had settled after that night. Until one of the gun slinging, assassins stumbled upon their home in his search of a phone or way out. When Castor's father Ivan, refused to offer him refuge or help, he got angry and killed Ivan's wife right in front of him and his two children.

Following that fatal night, something in Castor snapped and he had never been the same since. Taking a life, especially in front of that young of an age had lasting, traumatic effects. Just to cope, he would sometimes disassociate and imagine he was somebody else. It helped to combat the nightmares that flared up, until eventually they all went away. Or were replaced by a growing list of new ones.

As their family got older, Castor developed insane hunting skills thrust upon him by their father. He no longer longed for a life he would never get to have. His father taught him how to survive, how to enhance his tracking abilities to an almost borderline supernatural degree.

Unlike Castor, Iris however, distanced herself from her brother and their father. She still craved a modest, civilized life. Which is why at age 17, she disappeared from their family without a trace. She stayed hidden for a good while until Castor caught up with her following their father's death in 2018.

They stayed together long enough to catch up on their time apart and to lay their father's body to rest. But after a year, she was gone again. And this time, she made sure not a trace of her would be found.

In her absence, Castor decided it was time to put his skills to good use by developing his own personal business. One that operates by his own set of rules and not that of anyone else's.

He now uses his skill set to find missing persons all across the country to make up for not being able to locate his own remaining flesh and blood.

This has led him to becoming a tracker and occasional mercenary for hire. Not only do the gigs pay well (being that most of the rewards typically start at 10 grand and upward) but, it's a way for him to satiate the inner monster he's indelibly become. The same monster that he won't acknowledge, his father had made him into.

headcanons .

character inspirations. colter shaw (tracker), silver sable (marvel universe)

[theojamesunofficial]

Theo James as ‘Will Younger’ in ‘How it Ends’

[wyattxabhrams]

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Wyatt had been contemplating reaching out to investigators that would dedicate all their time and resources to only their case. Relying on the local police department had gotten them nowhere. In a few months’ time, his father would have been missing for a year. Selfish and heartless as it might have been, Wyatt had no intention of spending another year in this town. He had come shortly after his birthday with the intention of staying for no more than a few days. Weeks turned to months, and looking at it now, he was far too close to having wasted an entire year in this town.

Before he could find a shortlist of people that he trusted through his own networks, his mother had approached him with an offer. Someone who had called her with the promise of locating her missing husband, and their family’s missing patriarch. Wyatt’s immediate response differed from Delilah’s optimism and hope. No, he was immediately suspicious and skeptical. Perhaps because he had seen her fooled time and time again by bogus tips that were offered all in hopes of a quick payout. If the person had a genuine lead, Wyatt was not someone to turn them away. But once burned, twice shy. His mother seemed to not really know the meaning of that, so she insisted that he arrange to meet with the man. If Wyatt didn’t, she would. And that would be more money lining the pockets of a potential crook.

Walking into the restaurant at the time agreed upon, it didn’t take much for him to locate the man. He’d done a bit of his own digging into his past. There wasn’t too much to find, but there was enough of a track record that Wyatt felt that the visit out to meet him was warranted. Because his success rate was praiseworthy, and though Wyatt had little optimism that Benjamin would be found, he was desperate. And if the key to his freedom was in the hands of Castor Castellanos, so be it. “And you’re the man that’s going to find my father.” His words were laced with irony, though maybe if he said it aloud, it would be true. | @ccastellanos

[ccastellanos]

"To some degree of that nature, yes." Just like his testimonials say, his success rates are immaculate. That is, if you don't count his personal missing persons case. But to Castor's credit, his sister is significantly harder to find on account of the fact that, she knows how to properly evade him. Being that, she's succeeded at it for at least half a decade now.

Benjamin Abhrams on the other hand? Is no Iris. He'll get sloppy and careless in time and in true, typical fashion, give himself up. It's nothing time and patience won't wrangle loose. Which, not all members of his immediate family share. Some of them, like Wyatt, are more eager to put their search to rest. To finally have their answers so they can officially move forward with their lives.

Believe it or not, Cas is there to help. To put things into perspective and back into balance, before inevitably cashing his big check.

Of course, before he could do that - or even dream about investing the money - he needs their help in painting the picture of their father's last known whereabouts. From there, Cas will diligently and expertly take care of the rest while they sit back and do nothing.

"As I told the Mrs. my expertise comes with associated risks." For him as well as them. "I will find your father for the reward contracted to me, which I will only collect once I'm successful. However, I do believe in extending full transparency. In most cases such as these, the rates of finding a loved one alive after prolonged weeks decline dramatically. The man I locate may not be the one you remember. Whole or in pieces. Is that something you lot have come prepared for? If not, I would suggest getting better acquainted with the possibility." / @wyattxabhrams

[ahalyaxreddy]

WITH: @ccastellanos LOCATION: riveroak hiking trail

The weather was warming slightly and with an otherwise light day at the store, she figured that she could go in a bit later. With a revived focus on making something of the creativity that had been dormant for three years, Ahalya set out to find a new source of inspiration. And what better place than to venture into nature. The trails were ones that she knew like the back of her hand. She’d ventured through them all throughout her childhood, which she leveraged when she was giving tours. As she ventured through one of the paths that was less well marked, something that only the locals really knew, she caught sight of another hiker up ahead.

From a distance she could not really make out who it was. But as she got closer, she realized that his was a familiar face. One she’d seen around the store on occasion. And considering that he was very clearly from not around town, her curiosity had been piqued. They had exchanged few words, but it had been brief and hardly enough to sate her intrigue. Because Covington saw outsiders, for sure. But foreigners? They preferred the real Hollywood. Not the Hollywood of the South. “Hey,” she called out, not sure if he wanted the company, or recognized her. But, presuming that he hadn’t meant to wander out this way, she jogged up to him. “Are you lost? This is kind of off the actual trail. Pretty far off, actually. You probably missed a turn or something. It’s okay, I can show you back, if you are.”

[ccastellanos]

He, unlike a majority of others in this town, fell knee deep in the woods while minding his own business. The thing about small towns is, they like to gossip. A lot. Some days, Cas couldn't help but wonder where in the world they were getting their outlandish information. Was is solely by word of mouth or did they cyberstalk each other to death and then confront one another when they ran into each other in random places? Perhaps, it was both.

There was some respect in that. If only because, he does the same extensive research as part of his self-made business. One that requires him to take outdoor trails, like this one, often in order to collect the reward money waiting for him at the end.

"Who, me? Lost?" The question is absurd enough, it could easily conjure a laugh. But, does it? No. Because, Cas isn't easily humored. By anything. Even pretty girls like her.

"What makes you think I'm lost?" Curious and intrigued of her answer, his lips give way to a smile before he carries on in a thick, English accent. "I know I might've left my bag in the car but, I can assure you I'm an outdoors-man. When you get a lead, you have no choice but to follow it. Regardless if you leave your boots at home." Another precaution he didn't seem to have taken at the moment. "You look familiar." It takes him a few seconds to place her before her beautiful, brown eyes give her away. "Urban Harvest. You're the owner. We met in the produce aisle after some bloke dared his friend to stick a jalapeno up his nose. I take it, he learned his lesson after the EMTs finally got it out, yes?" / @ahalyaxreddy

[arjunshekhawat]

Normally, Arjun was always in the mood for friendly chatter. Normally. He wasn't sure if he was giving off that energy without thinking about it or what, but the other man at the bar decided that now was a great time to strike up a conversation. "I've been here more times than I can remember," he joked, eventually laughing at himself when he realized that made him sound like a drunk. "I just mean that I've made a lot of great memories any time I come here which has been quite a few times over the years." And that was the truth. Arjun remembered having his first legal drink in this very bar fourteen years go. First "legal" drink that was. Any visit home was not complete until he stepped in to say hello and share a drink with his dad or other friends. "Samara makes a killer Negroni. Old fashioned too. You can't ever really go wrong with a tried and true."

[ccastellanos]

"And which one is she?" As per the course whenever Cas entered a new establishment he'd never been before, he looked for the woman who called herself, Samara.

From what Cas could gather about her based on first impressions was that, she had excellent taste in glassware. The empty old-fashioned sitting out beside him looked mid-century modern. It was eclectic yet elegant for a considered dive bar. Nothing with pool tables and Heavy Hitters in its name earned the right to be classified as anything but. / @arjunshekhawat

[sophia-mendoza-deactivated20240]

There were a lot of times where Sophia would be working from her home office. Usually on days she didn't have any appointments--it was just easier to handle things from home. Of course that meant that if she had any appointments scheduled on that particular day at the last minute, they too wound up at her home office.

She'd kept it as close as she could to her office at the hospital, ensuring there was a comfortable enough couch for the patients to relax on. And for herself she had both a comfortable chair to sit on or her computer set up if she needed to be doing other things when patients weren't there.

"This works however you want it to Cas," she told him with a smile while her hands stayed clasped over her crossed legs. "You should've gotten a little form in your email when you scheduled the appointment where you would've told me kind of what your conversation style is and based on that we'd conduct these sessions but since this is our first--you're free to either give me a background on yourself or I can ask questions."

For starters, she could hear that accent which told her that he was definitely from what could be called as 'her neck of the woods' even if she'd left London when she was only five years old so she didn't have much of an accent remaining anymore. That gave her slight information on the man sitting in front of her, but it definitely was not enough to begin forming his profile.

There were a lot of potential patients that believed the intake form was useless and so they didn't fill it out, but in this scenario she didn't know if that was the case or because of the last minute appointment he just hadn't seen it yet. "I think we can start with something generic if you'd like. Tell me what made you want to make the appointment for today? Because therapy can sometimes be a spur of the moment decision for some and for others they can be battling with it for weeks...I'd love to hear what helped you make the decision."

It was also important for Sophia to tread lightly with first time appointments because she knew well that a lot of people who hadn't ever experienced therapy could sometimes see it with a prejudiced view and it was up to her to change that around the best that she could. | @ccastellanos

[ccastellanos]

Would it be too forward or too brash to say - that's just the thing. I don't believe it will work at all?

When similar problems arose during his childhood, Cas had no choice but to grin and bear it. To turn his nightmares into fuel or into armor. Therapy was built for weak minded people in search of validation for their brokenness. Cas would argue he was fine, if not mildly inconvenienced.

But given he was here and he needed her help, he supposed it wouldn't kill him to push through the charade a little bit longer and carry on with the guise he entered with until it stopped being useful.

"Well, I suppose I've been having nightmares. Bouts of troubling visions, you see. Very graphic and malevolent in nature." This was an understatement. But, she needn't know the heavier details. They would only scar her if so, regardless of how many shit piles have been dumped on her from various clients over the years, who once occupied the same brown leather couch.

Which Cas noted to be predictable but timeless. And comfortable if one didn't fidget so much to the point the furniture responded with a rugged screech. "Truthfully, they don't plague me enough that I demand clinical evaluation. If anything, they present as more of a nuisance getting in the way of me doing my job effectively. So, with that said what might you, a renowned---" according to her website "---specialist recommend as immediate remedy?" / @sophia-mendoza

[ccastellanos]

location: her office

closed starter for: @sophia-mendoza

"So, how does this work exactly? Do I just offer up a thought and we go from there or do you take it upon yourself to examine me with questions until I slip you a kernel of something useful?"

Up until this point, Cas had never any real intention or desire to seek counsel for his nightmares. They were never much of a hurdle, until now.

It was like they wouldn't stop. He kept picturing the same thing over and over again. Him holding a gun to Iris' head as she begged him to show her mercy.

His own flesh and blood. The last remaining shred of humanity he has left.

They say therapy helps. By law, he knows what he can share while remaining honest without enticing her to contact her local authorities for help.

There's no need to go into detail about his occupation. That's not even what's plaguing him. It was the thought of Iris, whether or not she was safe and still alive.

[ccastellanos]

location: mystic grille

closed starter for: @wyattxabhrams

The amount of secrets that lurked beneath the cyber sewers of Benjamin Abhrams' digital life was ample. Had anyone dug deep enough, they'd be sure to find something about the politician he'd paid good money to hide.

Whether it was google searches, histories, photos, link clicks, emails, or private chat rooms, Cas had no trouble locating it all. Most people's online lives were rife with information. Tossed out so casually their owners didn't think twice about how it would incriminate them later on.

Such lives of those were a gold mine for someone like Cas, who dedicated the last six years of his life to analyzing others' digital and literal footprints all across the country, reuniting missing people with their loved ones or in some cases, just delivering confused families with dreadful answers.

That was the plan for him here.

Especially following Cas's conversation with the matriarch of the Abhrams family, herself. After sitting down with her in her home, Delilah promised him a significant pay out and one of his biggest rewards to date once he pulled it off.

She agreed to give him her husband's case after he assured her he doesn't collect payment until successful. Although, judging by the ongoing text exchange he'd had with her son after, Wyatt, did not share the same hopes and sureness as his mother.

Cas agreed to meet him, if only to prove his reliability and debunk any reservations he might have of him being a scam artist. Plus it beat him getting in the way.

Besides, Cas also knew that in order to guarantee his success rate, he'd have to eventually sit down with each one of Benjamin's children. Whether or not they knew it yet, they all had a part to play in their father's untimely disappearance.

"You must be Wyatt." Actually, there was no 'must be.'

Cas already knew for a fact this was Wyatt. He knew everything there was to know, including his social security number, what he looked like, who he's dated, what drinks he likes to order at the bar, and where he's been hiding for the last twenty years.

Which says a lot because unlike the rest of his siblings, Wyatt's online presence was not nearly as active or as significant. It's been carefully crafted and scarce. And, resembled that of a runner's, someone hoping to escape their traumatic past. If anyone knew what that looked like, it would be Cas. He was once a walking poster child for trauma.

[arjunshekhawat]

Location: Heavy Hitters Bar

Status: OPEN

Capping at: 3 (1/3)

Arjun wished everyday could be a good day; that he could come into work and help people get the treatment they needed in time. It was always rough when things didn't go as planned. That was just the way life worked sometimes. In a perfect world he could save everyone, but the world was far from perfect and he was just one doctor. As much as Arjun woke up hoping today would be a good day, it ended up being the exact opposite. As a doctor, Arjun had to learn to not feel guilt whenever a patient didn't walk out of the hospital happy and healthy. Still, it always took him a hot minute to recover from the weight of reality. Being away from the hospital helped. Treating himself to a strong drink at the end of a day like today at his favorite spot in town most definitely helped.

[ccastellanos]

He hasn't been in town a week and already, he's landed his first gig. A sixteen year old runaway who was most likely dodging her judgmental parents for the boyfriend she seemed nauseatingly obsessed with online.

The reward for this case was three grand. Significantly less than his normal pay but reasonable for a small town.

His first stop after meeting with the runaway's family was the bar just down the street. According to the sticker posted up outside, Heavy Hitters provided it's patrons with free wifi and the best Happy Hour draft beers money could buy.

It was seemingly enough to draw Cas's eye and tempt him through its doors, onto a plushy, black leather stool. "You seem rather comfortable. I take it you've been here before. What would you recommend?" | @arjunshekhawat

[ccastellanos]

HONESTY HOUR →

[theojamesunofficial]

[ccastellanos]

tag dump.

𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 ╱ visage.