From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Beatrix was adapting to being older, to the holes in her memory... to the way her brother was. Once baby brother, now older brother. Truly irked by that, but just happy to have him, she didn't whine about the topic too much. After all... it was better than being alone. Abandonment issues were a bitch.
She was wandering Snowcloak, not really searching for answers to the holes in her memory--no, she'd probably have to seek out a god to truly figure out the holes in her memory, and what had happened to age her... but she didn't really want to know the specifics. She was older, and Jace was older. It could have been worse--she could still be twelve while he was grown; that really would have ruined things.
Her hair was braided against her head so that the wind couldn't mess with it, and ruin her impeccably chosen outfit. Her image was important, she preferred to look perfect. Her gaze wandered after different people, as she headed to one of the local shops, to place a purchase when she briefly thought she spotted Neron and stopped paying attention to where she was going.
She had heard talk that the man was working at the local tavern, but had yet to see him with her own eyes. It was just as she decided she had not seen Neron, that she bumped into somebody, and took a sharp step backward, flashing a smile and offering apologies. "Apologies for my misstep," her voice was sweet, sincere.
Back and forth from Halo to the Grounds had become something of a regular trek for the man. Loathe to be parted from Kia for too long, but knowing he had duties to attend to here, he had discovered that his eagle shift was very convenient for making the distance seem a lot shorter.
Being Chief of Agriculture in a region that had very little agricultural foundation set up was challenging - which was fine, for he liked a challenge. But it also meant that until Halo had developed those foundations, he job role entailed a few other things - like vegetable delivery boy.
They had weathered the last season reasonably well, all things considered. It had taken a lot of work, but they had managed to secure the foodstuffs left in the ruins of the Palace which had seen them able to eat throughout the season, though not in the excess that they might usually enjoy in the other seasons.
Now, with Flowerbirth having eased the weather blocking the Portal some, trading was opened again, and the region was booming with more life than it had for many months. It was a pleasure to see, for it gave him all the more hope that with the ningo farm establishment on the horizon, they would soon be able to offer even more to those who came with trade-able goods, and also hold their own place in a growing economy.
"It was at least half my own misstep," he said by way of apology to the young woman whose form had brushed against him, distracted in his thoughts as he was. He offered a polite smile to her, 'brow raising slightly as he considered her a moment. "I don't believe we've met? I'm Chuy," he said, moving so that he wasn't in the way of others attended the tavern he had just delivered a sackful of vegetables to.
Halo's cold was like a blanket that she welcomed, it was the most constant memory that survived from twelve to eighteen. The man took half the blame, and her lips curved slightly. Interesting. "Beatrix Launceleyn. Are you a delivery boy? That's got to be boring." She commented, looking past the man to the tavern, where the person on duty was putting vegetables away.
Delivery was an essential part of life in the cold wasteland but... Beatrix couldn't help but scrunch her nose a tiny bit, at the idea of delivering vegetables as a job. Luckily, their birthright ensured that she and Jace knew where they belonged.
The young woman had been studying up on who was currently in power in Halo, it'd not been too hard to do, history was always being written down and talked about if you just listened. So she eyed the stranger critically, dark eyes wandering over him. She knew there was a Chulane currently overseeing agriculture in Halo, but 'Chuy' did not add up. She decided not to ask, eventually, she would have faces to put to the members of Halo's government.
He was overall, surprised by the girl's reaction to him and his simple task of delivering food. For her to jump to such a conclusion so quickly demonstrated a touch of arrogance, or perhaps, naïve foolishness. The girl was young, that much he could easily ascertain, and she was a Launceleyn - though he liked Neron and Loren well enough, they too shared similar traits of varying degrees.
He was almost curious to know how this girl fit into the family tree, but not enough to ask - being stretched between two regions had done a number on his capacity and enthusiasm to want to know everything about everything. Instead of offering further explanation of his own role, he merely posed a question back to the girl, seeking to know why she had jumped to the conclusion she had about the task he was currently undertaking.
"Why does it have to be boring?" his tone was light, his brow raised playfully as he posed it, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he awaited her answer.
If Beatrix had known that Chuy believed she was arrogant, she probably wouldn't have cared. There was no fixing that now. Though if he had asked how she was related to the Launceleyn family, he'd be surprised to learn she was Zariah's daughter--known to be twelve, and probably thought missing. But certainly, he'd heard the rumors of the two siblings who'd shown up out of nowhere; her brother's strangeness was oft-talked about after they'd stopped for food in the tavern behind Chulane.
When he answered her question with a question, she chuckled. The sound was soft, though the tone gave no indication of amusement. And then, with a bright, almost childish smile she stated: "Because you're just taking food into places." She said this in a matter-of-fact manner, shaking her head. She was smart enough to find the advantages in delivering food, even if it wasn't what she wanted to do.
"I suppose delivering food means you meet a lot of people, and hear a lot of gossips. So I guess that there are advantages to it," she crinkled her nose at the man, "But I'd never want to do it." Beatrix preferred to do her people-watching in a fashion that meant people knew she was watching them, studying them. Say, sitting in a corner of the tavern with her brother, eating in silence because the chatter around them was worth more than anything they could say to one another.
He shrugged at her response, baffled slightly at the audacity of the girl, the abject arrogance and certainty that her world-view was the only true and correct world-view. He wasn't about to press his own views on her, however - the job certainly wasn't for everyone, for not everyone saw supporting a region as fulfilling enough to dedicate their lives to. For Chuy, it was in his blood, it was how he was raised, that there was no point in improving one's self if one did not also help the world one lived in.
"It's not for everyone," was all he said, accepting her judgement with an easy grin. He didn't see the point in speaking about all of the other aspects of the job that she had missed in her summary, for she hadn't asked for it, and so he assumed she wasn't all that interested.
"What sort of work do you do?" He asked, as he made to slowly walk down the road, gesturing that she was welcome to walk in stride with him if she so deigned.
Beatrix had no idea that Chuy thought she was arrogant—but if he’d told her so, she’d probably have just shrugged the observation off. She wasn’t like other girls; hadn’t been raised like other children, and hardly remembered much of her childhood, as it was. What she did remember had been ingrained into her very soul, made her who she was. And she’d been taught from a very young age that… she was better than everyone around her—save for her brother.
“No, I suppose it isn’t.” She stated, matter-of-factly. He started down the road at a slow pace, and made a gesture that implied she could join him. And for a second, she contemplated giving no response and heading inside the tavern. But curiosity won out. If she was going to live in Halo, and be a part of the community, she should at least get to know the people who lived here.
Though the man in front of her was certainly no native. His accent was all sorts of out-of-place. He interested her to join him by asking what she did for work—of course, she’d think her work was superior. “I work with my family. At the Arcane Academy,” she does not point the building out; if he’s anyone he’ll know where it is. She decided to join him then.
“I am a Launceleyn, after all. My mother might be gone, but that doesn’t mean the academy gets to stop.”
He wouldn't have minded if she decided to take her leave of him, honestly - he had things to do, but always tried to make time to talk to those who resided in Halo, to learn about their lives, their struggles, their triumphs. It was all a part of not only his position, but also his plans for the region, making micro-adjustments to them to suit the ever evolving needs of the region and the people within.
His impression of her was further solidified as she spoke of her work, as the superiority and single-minded certainty became further evident. Nepotism is still alive and well, he thought idly, but merely smiled and nodded in response to her words. "Sorry about your mother," he said, offering the words with genuine condolence, though she didn't appear to need them.
"I wasn't aware the Academy was something that could be inherited," he mused softly. "Would've thought it fell to the Warden to decide its fate," he shrugged though, not entirely committed to the idea, but wondering it out loud anyway. "Do you teach there?"
07-12-2020, 01:00 AM (This post was last modified: 07-12-2020, 01:03 AM by Beatrix.)
Beatrix
Beatrix tilted her head as if she was confused. “Why are you apologizing? You didn’t kill her.” Not implying that anyone had, but simply: the man should not be sorry, because he had not done anything to her mother. Though in that same vein, one might say Beatrix could blame Chuy for not doing enough to keep the Merciless safe in the walls of the city. But… how many times had it just been her and Jace? Too many for her to care one inkling about her mother’s death.
Just like Neron and Loren, Zariah was gone the second she disappeared—gone from her heart and her mind. Unlike Neron and Loren, Zariah was actually gone—actually dead. But the same principles applied.
When he brought up the Academy, she shrugged, “Jace is taking it over.” She had yet to meet the Warden in person; and wasn’t much fond of meeting the woman—Wardens seemed to be a dime a dozen in the icy wasteland.
When he asked if she taught, she studied the sky, hands clasped behind of her back. “No.” Short and simple answer. It seemed her brother had rubbed off on her.
"I was offering my condolences for any hard times you experienced since losing her, and trying to offer help if you need it." He hadn't expected her reaction to his kneejerk response, his automatic deliverance of condolences that clearly weren't needed. But she was determined to see him as a lesser being, and while he didn't see the point in trying to correct her through conversation alone, he would clarify this point because she had asked directly what he had meant.
Jace, he pondered on, wondering at the name. Wasn't he the child the Eirachi took? The implications were not lost on Chuy, though he kept the realisations to himself - fucking magic and gods and things that were far bigger than he at play still baffled this man of science and logic.
Taking it over? he also wondered. He honestly hadn't realised that was an option available, family member or not. The Academy was a school, first and foremost, not just a huge building replacing the palace that once stood for the Launceleyn's to play in. He assumed Warden Morgan would have some say in the Academy and how it was used - but then, perhaps his thoughts were too aligned to 'public school' thinking, where the local government assigned appropriate teachers for all students who wanted to learn to attend.
"So what sort of work do you do, or would you like to do?" he posed, finding himself driving this conversation far more than he expected, and already feeling the pull of other duties tugging at his attention. He was here for now though, but unless she showed more of a desire to converse with him, he would probably make an exit soon enough.
Beatrix hummed, quietly. “So when somebody dies, you offer condolences? Even if that person wasn’t a very good family member?” It seemed like the concept was lost on the youngest Launceleyn—and boy, was she miffed that the Eirachi had aged Jace to be older than she was. It made their relationship even stranger than it already was. “She wasn’t,” she added, after a moment of silence, “a good mother, I mean. She left us once before, I think, we were younger that time.” She’s merely stating facts, it’d seem, with no emotional attachment to them.
She continued to walk beside of him, “One day, I’d like to teach. Maybe. But right now, I… recruit, and help manage the day-to-day.” She flashed the man a grin. “I guess, my job is to go out into the world and… bring people who’d like to learn, to join us.” If she’s worried that she’s come across as seeing the man next to her as lesser, it doesn’t show. Perhaps she doesn’t realize it, fully. After all…
It’s how she was raised. And habits that deeply ingrained seem natural; unnoticeable, and are tough to shake. “You said you’d like to help me? Can you tell me about the Warden, and some of the people?” It’s a genuine question; her dark eyes have turned towards the man. She doesn’t tell him why she wanted to know; doesn’t explain that she actually has memory of very little from ‘before’.
He was continually puzzled by the residents of Halo and their general lack of empathy for their fellow human. From Korbin clinging to tradition even if it cost the lives of those who lived here, to Beatrix not being aware that offering a simple condolence in the face of another saying they have experienced a loss was normal. But then, perhaps it wasn't a condition of the region at all, perhaps he had just met people with a certain way of dealing with emotions - that is, not at all. He remained silent as she spoke of Zariah, nodding, offering nothing but a solemn expression in response.
"Oh that's interesting," low, warm tones supplied as she spoke of her role for the Academy. "What sorts of things do you look for in a student?" He quizzed, hoping to shed more light on what this latest development with the Academy entailed.
"Warden Aristomache?" he responded, nodding in agreement with her question to know more about the woman. "She was Captain of the Guard before the election, where she was voted over Loren for the Warden position. She can do some kick-arse water magic." He shrugged. "She's a respectable woman, and hopes to lead Halo into whatever the future may hold for us." Seasonal spirits be damned, he added silently, but it was all in jest. "I don't pretend to know everyone here," he said with a smile, "but was there anything else specifically you wanted to know?"
Beatrix shrugged. "Not sure yet. Magic, mostly, I'd imagine." She joked, her tone light and easy. It'd seem that Beatrix wasn't all pomp and grandeur.
When the man started to tell her about the Warden, she listened, dark eyes focused on him. "Interesting. No, no, just... about the Warden. I don't remember much," she stated with a shrug. "But it seems important to know as much as I can about the woman that runs this place."
She slowed her steps, glancing over her shoulder, and hummed. She should probably attend to that chore. "Goodbye," she stated, simply, not considering whether that might be seen as rude or not. "I have to attend to my task." She added, as she started back towards the tavern.
