Beatrix
Beatrix was still a bit upset with her brother for his comment; even if it was the comment that would fuel her to better herself—endlessly—until there was nothing left magically and she had to turn to other things to better herself. She could just see him, in her mind’s eye, turning to dust; withering away and being blown from her presence on the wind.
But outwardly, she looked composed. When he stated that he’d take their mother’s title, her nose scrunched. “Surely there’s a better title for you than that. I realize you need the loftiness to get people to listen to you—or well… I think eventually, you’ll be able to do that without a ridiculous title…” Their mother had subscribed to that title; used it to her advantage. And Beatrix was certain that their mother had needed the title to get people to listen—to obey—to see her as above them.
But Jace? And herself?
She pushed her bowl away, as he eyed it, and stood. Once again, a hand was proffered. “I like recruiter for myself. Simple, to the point. Nobody’s going to wonder what my purpose is.” She stated, confidently. “Ready to go home?”
But outwardly, she looked composed. When he stated that he’d take their mother’s title, her nose scrunched. “Surely there’s a better title for you than that. I realize you need the loftiness to get people to listen to you—or well… I think eventually, you’ll be able to do that without a ridiculous title…” Their mother had subscribed to that title; used it to her advantage. And Beatrix was certain that their mother had needed the title to get people to listen—to obey—to see her as above them.
But Jace? And herself?
She pushed her bowl away, as he eyed it, and stood. Once again, a hand was proffered. “I like recruiter for myself. Simple, to the point. Nobody’s going to wonder what my purpose is.” She stated, confidently. “Ready to go home?”
Let's see how long you'll last, puppet.
