[hr][center][sub][color=cecece]Bé[/color] [color=ea3333]《》[/color] [color=cecece]Paris, France [ Bé's Flat ][/color] [color=ea3333]《》[/color] [color=cecece]Weary[/color] [color=ea3333]《》[/color] [[@Aeolian]Bé, Marceau, Cousin Gisèle, Tito][/sub][/center][hr][table][row][/row][row][cell][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5383761][img]https://i.imgur.com/lYnRbBy.jpg[/img][/url][color=2e2c2c]▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇[/color][/cell][cell][quote]

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Back in Paris, Bé found himself replaying that night at Madame Angelique's over and over in his head. It rattled and tugged at his attention viciously despite his best efforts to put the memory out of its misery. Had it really gotten so bad? How had he let it get to that point? He was leaning against the railing of his Juliet balcony, gazing down at the inner-city streets below, alit by torch fire and camera phones. Another protest, he assumed, the ruckus of the ceaseless noise bombarding his psyche. He'd thought he'd come out for a bit of fresh air, but perhaps tonight, he was more in tune for the quiet solitude of his third story abode. He took a puff of his vape pen and blew a ring, watching it drift off into the moonlight. 

[code][In English, because of Tito][/code]

When he returned inside, placing the device of soothing mint into his silk-sewn pocket, his manager Tito, cousin Gisèle, and his oaf of a bodyguard, Marceau, were waiting for him in his living room. Tito had a glass of wine in hand and was leaning against the nearest wall. Gisèle was sitting on his sofa with one leg crossed over the other, while Marceau was in his kitchen rummaging through his fridge. Bé sighed, acknowledging none of them. Instead, he walked over to his wine rack, picked out a glass flute, and poured himself a bit of bubbly. He took a sip, turning to face them with a deadpan expression, [color=52625F][b]"What are you doing here?"[/b][/color] he asked cooly, taking another sip. His eyes met each of them before settling on his cousin. 

Gisèle looked at Bé with a nervous gaze before standing up to meet him where he was. She placed a hand on his arm to try and comfort him, but with little hesitation, he softly pulled away from her and crossed the room to sit in an accent chair. Gisèle seemed hurt by the recoil, but did not follow him and instead, continued where she stood, [b][color=bc8dbf]"Your mother wants you to leave Paris, for your own safety."[/color][/b] 

[color=52625F][b]"I will do no such thing."[/b][/color] Bé said, hushed venom leaking from his lips, his tone so dry and cold it could freeze the entire room into silence. They knew he would respond this way. It was inevitable. Bé had too much at stake right now; with his career just starting to gain traction, how could he possibly bunker away to God knows where over a few inconvenient incidents? And that warning Auri gave him before obviously had not come to fruition, so as he saw it, he was better off taking his chances within the familiar than the foreign. But mother was...mother. Bé understood as much but was unwilling to comply all the same. 

His cousin continued, [b][color=bc8dbf]"Bé, please. You know your mother. She affords you great freedoms in this life, but be realistic for your own sake. You know as well as I that severe reprecussions await should you defy her."[/color][/b] 

Bé rolled his eyes, [color=52625F][b]"I can, and I will."[/b][/color] 

[b][color=bc8dbf]"Then you will throw away your livelihood? The comfort and luxuries she has blessed upon you? Can you make those sacrifices? I'm warning you Bé. She will strip them from your flesh if you protest."[/color][/b] 

Bé crossed his arms, stepping closer to Gisèle to emphasize what he was going to say next. With furrowed brows, he glared at her coldly and continued, [color=52625F][b]"Don't tell me about my own mother. And I'm warning you, cousin. Do not patronize me. And as far as I'm concerned, I will have to make those sacrifices regardless, no matter where I might lie. My life is here, in Paris."[/b][/color] 

Gisèle shook her head, looking up at him fiercely betwixt the corporeal tension that polluted the air, [b][color=bc8dbf]"Oh, for heaven's sake! Just listen! It's only temporary, at least until she is sure you're safe. Tito will manage your flat while you're away."[/color][/b] She looked toward Tito for reassurance, and when their eyes met, he gave her a cursory nod. Bé was not convinced by this feeble gesture of assent.

[color=52625F][b]"We speak in circles, and yet my answer remains the same. No."[/b][/color]

Bé and Gisèle quarreled a bit longer. It seemed like a never-ending carousel of reality and rejection. The cousins never got into it like this in all of their years of knowing each other, not once, which was rare for Bé because even as an adolescent, he was known for having a rather aloof and austere demeanor. He was not the friendliest child, and his peers often found his cold personality agitating and lofty. Gisèle had been one of the select few to break through the ice. And it made sense. Bé was an only child who was spoiled and lived an opulent life. But he was lonely and bored, and his cousin served as a companion, as he did for her. So they understood each other better than anyone else. But in this instance, Bé was quite frustrated by how acquiescent Gisèle expected him to be toward his mother's demands. The longer the discussion went on, the more disquieted he became.

Meanwhile, Tito was patiently watching them bicker, his shades down at the crook of his nose so he could overlook the conversation with clarity and intercede should things get out of hand. He had hoped he wouldn't need to intervene, perhaps so Bé wouldn't feel as though everyone was operating against his wishes. But once it seemed that the sibling-like cousins had reached an impasse and Gisèle had uncharacteristically screamed at him to stop behaving like a petulant child, Tito finally decided he should step in with some degree of authority as the oldest figure in the room. 

[color=00a651][b]"Enough!"[/b][/color] he croaked, coughing haggardly as Gisèle and Bé fell mute and looked at him. He continued once he was sure he had their attention, but focused mostly on Bé, [color=00a651][b]"Here's the deal. If you don't agree to this, you won't have a career to come back to."[/b][/color]

Bé took a deep, weary breath, grazing his fingers through his thick, curly black locks. His ocean eyes seemed to illuminate with a tinge of fire beneath the surface. He'd be fuming brimstone and smog if he had not been working overtime to maintain his composure. So instead of yelling as he truly desired, he instead, in a tempered tone, asked Tito, [color=52625F][b]"Has my mother really gone so far as to mangle all my prospects if I do not comply? Has she truly?"[/b][/color]

[color=00a651][b]"Afraid so, kid. She's good. Real good."[/b][/color]

[color=52625F][b]"Then my mother is a real tart isn't she..."[/b][/color] Bé murmured, finishing up the flute of bubbly. Gisèle, on the other hand, was foaming at the mouth with anger, [color=bc8dbf][b]"Don't talk about your mother like that, Bé! She has gone to great lengths to protect you and give you a good life..."[/b][/color] She paused for a moment, a queer expression upon her face that Bé couldn't quite place, [color=bc8dbf][b]"A new life..."[/b][/color] she said softly. 

[color=52625F][b]"A new life? What is that supposed to mean?"[/b][/color] Bé asked, eyebrow raised. 

Gisèle shook her head, [color=bc8dbf][b]"Nothing. Just know that she has done unimaginable things for you, things you can't begin to understand. And she only wants what she believes is best for you. Show her some grace."[/b][/color]

A heavy silence filled the room after that. Bé was lost in stilled contemplation, his gaze frozen on a framed photo of him and his mother from when he was a young boy. Tito looked at them both, back and forth, taking it all in. He hated getting in the middle of family drama. He was just the manager, after all—an employee. He deemed it best to keep his contributions to the discussion minimal at best. Gisèle was left to do the heavy lifting. 

Finally, Bé asked, [color=52625F][b]"Where am I to be shipped off to then? Boston? Montreal?"[/b][/color]

Tito grunted, [color=00a651][b]"Errr, no. Somewhere near Portland, Oregon. She's got an acquaintance you can stay with for a while until the dust has settled, if you will."[/b][/color] 

Bé's eyebrow twitched. Oregon? Was it a coincidence? What were the odds that the very place he despised the most was located in the same state? Over the years, he had tried so hard to disassociate himself from that place, from that past. The only person he kept semi-communications with was Sloane, and even then, it was not enough to draw him back. And yet...

A heavy blanket of silence filled the room. Bé seemed lost in his mind once again as Gisèle and Tito shared glances with one another, unsure of what to say next. Bé was dreadfully introspective. The way he could get lost in his thoughts mid-conversation without pause was uncanny.

Just then, there was a loud clank from the kitchen, and everyone, except Bé, turned to look. Marceau had royally decimated Bé's kitchen but somehow managed to cook an Italian supper popular in Marseille. When he finished setting out four dishes and plating them with the aromatic cuisine, he plopped a tomato cherry into his mouth, threw a dirty cloth over his shoulder, and, through eager chews, said to the group with a grin, [color=f7941d][b]"Who's hungry?"[/b][/color]

No one said anything. The sour mood seemed to have doused everyone's appetites, Bé most of all. Never had he felt so much of his agency stripped away. He was no child, and being treated as such was unimaginably distressing to his ego. Truly humiliating. When he couldn't bear to look at their faces any longer, Bé stormed out of the room and entered his sleeping quarters, slamming the door behind him. He took off his top and tossed it onto the nearby velvet chaise lounge, revealing his glistening, chiseled body. If nothing else, Bé was a masterpiece unto itself, a beautiful Grecian effigy made flesh. Even his face, twisting with disgust and anger, brought the moon to cower in shame. 

Running his fingers through his thick, curly hair, Bé fell back on his bedside and let out a deep, weary sigh. He laid there, motionless, only mired thoughts and memories filling the void. He fiddled with the bracelet on his wrist, an inconspicuous accessory that had once been a person. Quite the macabre bit of jewelry. This pretty little secret hung upon him daily, perhaps a counterintuitive thing to wear, though, for someone who wished to forget their past. But in some ways, maybe he didn't want to forget. There was someone back in Oregon that he sometimes thought about in passing. It wasn't Sloane, or hell, even Anya, for that matter. At least, no in [i]THAT[/i] way. Someone else stole those quiet moments from him. Rent free. 

Finally, when he heard the last vestiges of Tito and Gisèle leaving his flat, Bé fell into a deep, troubled sleep—a slumber full of beautiful wonders and nightmares. But before dreams took hold, Bé wondered. Who was this acquaintance in Oregon? Why hadn't he heard of this person? What were the odds that he'd run into the old coven members? He wouldn't, right? The idea was like barbs beneath his skin.

But alas, these were thoughts for the sunrise. For now, he'd relinquish himself willingly so that the moon and night might take him peacefully.


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Tito, Bé Manager
[img]https://i.imgur.com/7Sh8xcu.png[/img]

Gisèle, Bé's Cousin
[img]https://i.imgur.com/txSNzt9.png[/img]

Marceau, Bé's Bodyguard
[img]https://i.imgur.com/E3YCUO0.png[/img]

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[color=99945e][b]Summary[/b][/color][hr][color=99945e]

[color=cecece]1:[/color] After the incident with the stalker back in Monaco at Madame Angelique's home, Bé has returned to his flat in Paris. He is confronted by Gisèle and Tito (Marceau is cooking). They inform him that his mother is ordering him to leave Paris and stay with an acquaintance of hers for his own safety. If he refuses, she will basically fuck over his entire livelihood and career. Obviously, Bé does not want to do this. Bé and Gisèle argue over this. Bé discovers from Tito that he will be staying in Oregon, which makes him feel disquieted. With nothing else to say, he storms out of the room and goes to sleep, but not before lulling over his past and some of his old connections from the Coven.
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