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 had finally slipped out of Halo to explore the Hollowed Grounds. The Grounds were even fuzzier than Halo, but vague pieces still existed. Mostly those that included Jace... her little "big" brother. Oh, she'd never get over the fact her brother was older than her now; the ultimate smack in the face, really.
If their family wasn't already weird enough, that took the cake. She entered the VlamVloed quietly, peering around for any faces that seemed familiar, vaguely or not. After all, people did travel thanks to the portals. Seeing nobody she immediately recognized, she settled into a chair and asked for water.
She wasn't here to drink--just to explore. The world might as well be new. After all, anyone who'd known her as the child she had been would be... surprised. Best not to say pleasantly surprised.
Bastien had finally left the house for the first time since he'd come back home from Longnight, finally finding the strength to leave the Sanctuary for a while. He knew it would not be long, but it was unhealthy for a child to be cooped up forever and Azrael needed some air (perhaps this was not true of Ascended children, but he wasn't sure, and Bastien wasn't about to deprive his baby of anything). With Azrael in a secure harness strapped to his front he had set off on a walk, trying to enjoy it as much as he could.
Eventually, the pitying looks and people stopping him to give their condolences was getting grating, no matter how well intentioned: he was only halfway through his planned route but Bastien found himself wanting to run inside and hide away from their prying questions and well wishes. Not close enough to sneak into the Sanctuary he went to the nearest door, which was the VlamVoed: perhaps not the most appropriate venue for a child, but the bar was thankfully quiet and he was hardly planning to join any wild parties.
Walking to the first table he saw, he put a hand on the back of the chair and looked to the woman sat opposite: he vaguely recognised her, but not well enough to say a name. "Ah...could I sit here a moment? Just long enough to rest a while with the baby." He asked, patting Azrael's back gently.
Beatrix studied the man, with a curious tilt of her head, before her gaze wandered to the infant. "Certainly." Short, curt, she was too busy trying to figure out why she felt like she knew the man.
"Have we met?" She inquired, not bothering to elaborate on the fact if they had met, she'd have been about four feet and some inches tall, and six years younger, if not a bit more. Perhaps the strangest thing about the man in front of her was... that he was caring for a child.
If only she'd ever seen a man take care of a child before. Certainly not her own father, rest in shreds, daddy, who she did not remember... And certainly not Neron, her brother. In the Launceleyn family, what was left of it and what had existed, the women did all the work.
All of it.
To this day she'd attest that she did far more work than her darling brother.
Bastien sat down, happy to be given permission, and loosened the tie which held Azrael to his chest to shift to holding the child in his arms instead, cradling them gently. They cooed and mumbled and he laughed, whispering something in Italian to them before he looked up at Beatrix when she spoke.
He looked her over: truthfully, Bastien was not in his best state of mind at the moment and he supposed he could have met her at some point in the last weeks and not known...though looking closer, something in her eyes sparked recognition in him that he could not place for a moment. "I...am not sure. What is your name?" He asked, hoping she would not be offended.
07-17-2020, 06:49 PM (This post was last modified: 07-17-2020, 06:51 PM by Beatrix.)
Beatrix
Beatrix watched the man with the child, with fascination. She was certain her father had never been an active part in her life before he'd died. It wasn't the child that fascinated the woman, though, but the man and his handling of the small creature.
When he asked her name, she shrugged and stated confidently, "Beatrix Launceleyn. Yours?" As her water was delivered to her table, she sipped it quietly, dark hues watching the man. A man with a child automatically registered as... unique, empowered, and strong, so different yet at the same time, almost comforting.
"What is your child's name?" She asked, after a sip of water. Her gaze left the man and child for a moment, to wander the tavern, as if uncertain of where she was.
Bastien looked up from where he had been gently holding Azrael's hand at the name, frowning immediately; was it a coincidence, that he already knew that name? Yet, something in the eyes, in her face, did remind him of that young girl he'd known...he had heard of Gods making some children much older, but had not yet seen it in practice: He opened his mouth then closed it again, unsure if he was making wild assumptions. "Bastien De Rosieres...Beatrix, daughter of Zariah?" He asked, wanting to confirm more before he came out with 'the last time I saw you you were four'.
"This is Azrael. They are but half a season old." He said fondly, stroking his child's face with one finger. "...Their mother is no longer with us, but they are deeply loved by many still."
Beatrix nodded, "Mother's dead, now, though." There's no emotion when she mentioned Zariah, it was simply a fact. "Bastien... So you did know me? Can I ask where we met?" Funny thing about being aged was, your memory suffered. Hers had suffered the first time, and again.
"Azrael. That's quite young." She admitted, watching the man with the child. "I have never seen a man care for a child. Do... you enjoy caring for them?" She doesn't address the information of the infants mother. "I remember... my mother. I guess, she was the only person there for me, and only sometimes. It's going to be nice for them to have somebody that's always around." She admitted, with a shrug.
Oh. Beatrix certainly dropped her mother's death into the conversation like a stone into a pond; Bastien stared for a moment, trying to recover from that revelation. He had absolutely no love for Zariah, but to learn of her death so unceremoniously was still somewhat shocking. "I...see. I'm sorry." He finally managed to say, resisting asking any more.
"We met, I believe, in a cave last year...but..." He paused again, finding this conversation more curious by the second. "You were only a small child, then. At most four; I took you home so you would not get hurt." And she had been a right stroppy brat about it, but he left that part of the story out for the moment (and that he'd knocked her out to get her to safety in the end). "If you truly are Beatrix Launceleyn, you look much older than I thought you would."
His child began to close their eyes, growing sleepy; Bastien smiled fondly, looked up at Beatrix's question with his thumb gently stroking Azrael's little palm. "I cannot say I much like children in general, but this is my own child. I love them with every part of my soul and looking after them was never an option; it was all there was to do." Even before Rexanna had died, Bastien had known he was going to spend a lot of time like this, loving and caring for his baby.
Beatrix shrugged, “Don’t be,” In her eyes, there was no reason to be sorry. Her mother messed up the second she gave Jace away—so did her brother, the second he promised Jace to the Eirachi. That was how she saw it. Ah, family was shit sometimes, and even now, with just her brother… it was still pretty shitty.
“A cave?” She hummed, tilting her head, thoughtfully. “I don’t remember that.” She decided, before she flashed a grin. “I… My brother found me in Whitebrim, over in Halo. When he found me I was… well,” she gestured to herself. “But so was he—he’s older than me now,” ah, how it irked her, the bane of existence, that simple fact.
When Bastien turned his conversation back to his child, she watched them, curious. “I see. I think your child is lucky.” She does not elaborate, better not.
"Mm." Bastien certainly knew if he had a mother like Zariah, he wouldn't be that choked up about it either, so he didn't say any more on that.
It wasn't really a surprise to hear that Beatrix didn't remember the cave: that wasn't the weird part of this. Most people didn't remember things from when they were that age, but most people didn't jump from young child to teenager overnight. Though it sounded like Beatrix herself wasn't too sure how it had happened, from her absence of an explanation. "..You...don't know what happened before you were in Whitebrim?"
He had not considered Azrael lucky; he sadly smiled and cuddled them close, the baby letting out a soft breath as they pressed themself into him. "I don't know about that, really. Missing their mother so young, when she would have been incredible..." Bastien did not dare to say any more in case the tears came.
Beatrix shook her head. "I remember someone telling me that they could take me to my mother, right before LongNight... after that..." She gestured with her hands, a little, 'poof' to indicate that was it.
She'd woken up at Whitebrim, as old as she was now. She knew her name, and she knew her brother.
"I'm sorry about their mother, but... that doesn't mean they're unlucky. They have you, and you seem like a great father." She couldn't be a bitch when the man looked like he might cry. "I'm sure their mother was an amazing woman, but it could be worse. They could be an orphan."
"Ah." Bastien nodded slowly, trying to take it all in and make sense of it, not that there was much sense to be made. His mind drifted a little, and a sad, nostalgic smile appeared on his face. "When I used to live in Italy...ah, in my old world, I took in many orphans. Many of them had very fractured memories of their parents. Obviously not the same circumstances, but.." He shrugged, hoping she'd accept the comparison. "Sometimes they would find it helpful to draw or write down what it was they could remember. So they could have it kept somewhere, but move on still happily with their lives."
Of course, he didn't know if the messy memory of her mother was bothering her or not, but the suggestion was there if it were.
While he knew Beatrix meant well with her comforts, she could not be more wrong. He would do his best, but compared to Rexanna, Bastien knew he'd come up short many ways. "...I can only hope that they inherit some of her light." He finally settled on saying, a soft sigh at the end of the words.
Beatrix listened, as the man described the orphans he used to care for, curiously. “Hm…” She murmured, committing his words to memory, because perhaps it would be useful to sketch out what she remembered—what she saw—maybe it’d help her piece together some things. Not particularly important things, by any means, but important enough to bother her a little bit.
She shrugged, when he stated that he hoped his child would have its mothers’ light, watching him with the infant as she sipped her drink. “You know, if you ever need a sitter, I’d not mind helping.” She had the Academy first and foremost, but… well, Jace would ask if she had an ulterior motive, truth be told, she wanted to learn more about Bastien and his child.
This was probably the nicest encounter she had ever had. And usually that was her fault, because she was a bit of a bitch.
It would probably be a long while until Bastien entrusted his child to someone new; he still found it hard to leave Azrael with friends and neighbours when he had to, even when he knew they would be safe. Still, the offer was appreciated and maybe at some time, when he'd finally gotten rid of the worst of the trauma of losing Rexanna, he could take Beatrix up on it. "Thank you. If I need someone, I will keep you in mind."
With that said, he had only wanted to stay in the bar for a little while. Bastien held Azrael to his chest and began to tie the baby into the sling again, laughing when they smushed their cheeks against him. "Ah, you're growing used to this, hm? Falling asleep now?" He asked, endlessly fond, then turned to Beatrix: "I should be going. It was nice to see you again, Beatrix."
