Aeolian

Regalia

Duh. ❤️

Lost History: Lineage

I love dreamy, mystical, magical concepts like this. There's a lot of potential here.

I am officially expressing interest, and I may also be tentatively interested in Co-Gming. I can help out with the character sheet, art, world-building, lore, aesthetics, NPCs, etc.

Cheers!

BLEAK

<Snipped quote by DeadDrop>

I can't believe this much time has passed since this. For some reason, this RP did really stick with me and become one of the more memorable ones. One that I had wished would've become more than what it was. It had incredible potential, but even just going as far as we did; for some reason it was still so enjoyable.

@Lionhearted

I won't speak for everyone, but I think most of us feel the same way about the Bleak series. It has a unique atmosphere that was so enjoyable. Dream-like and atmospheric, felt like reading a multi-dimensional novel. Maybe some day it can be revived again in a new iteration and form. :)

Looking for New Players - Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University Roleplay

Okay no problem! Thank you!

Cheers!

Looking for New Players - Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University Roleplay

Hello!

Are you still looking for new players?

Cheers!

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

We already discussed it in the Discord, but just posting my official withdraw from the RP here for formality sake. lol

Cheers and love you guys! Thanks for a wild ride! <3

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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_{Bé and Todd 《》 St. Portwell, Oregon [ House on the Hill ] 《》 Familial Greetings 《》 [@AeolianBé, Gisèle, Todd, @AtrophySloane, @EstylwenAislin, @NoriWasHereJasper, @AtomicEmperorLeon]}

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Despite the glazed, uninterested expression resting lifelessly upon Bé's countenance, he had, in fact, not completely disassociated since arriving in the meeting room with Gisèle and Todd. The young Frenchman had been listening keenly to the situation unfolding. After all, his life was on the line with this existential menace threatening to wipe them clean from the face of the earth, and frankly, Bé had no intention of letting anyone or anything take him out against his own volition. And despite his mild misanthropic views of the world and its inhabitants, there were a few people for whom he did not wish that misfortune upon. One of them had called out to him at that moment, garnering his focused gaze. Their eyes met, Bé and she, Sloane and he. It had been the first time they were in a tangible distance from one another since, heavens, who knows how long. But despite the years they had not seen each other, Bé couldn't help that her presence and gaze graciously offered him a moment of respite from the malignant ooze seeping from the pores of almost everyone else there. He could smell them, or perhaps that was Luca, bitter-tasting, decaying fruit better left to wither into the dirt from which it came. But for now, at least, if it is any consolation, she was here and he was glad for that. Bé returned to her a feeble smile. He was not much for grinning. This was the best he could muster at the moment. Meanwhile, Todd had been listening to, though his expression portrayed the exact opposite of Bé's. He smiled warmly to everyone who met his gaze, giving a cute, familial wave. Warmth; that was the aura Todd radiated from his being. When Aislin approached, he stood. “Well I'll be damned, you guys finally showed up!” Aislin said. When she put out her hand for a shake, Todd took it with his hand, but then pulled her in for a soft, gentle hug. He was a hugger after all and this felt more in kind to how things used to be. No need for formalities. Aislin was like a cute younger sister, head in the clouds, but always good natured from what he remembered. It was nice to see she kept her spirit all these years. He grabbed her by the sides of her arms, releasing her from his embrace, "It's good to see you too, Aislin," Todd said in a calm, almost paternal tone. Aislin continued, “Come closer to the crowd, we don't bite. At least, we don't bite much.” She joked. “We're expecting another magical faction to be joining us soon, so you'll be able to make a lot of new friends today.” Bé watched how they interacted with a tempered sort of interests. He remembered Aislin. Spunky, friendly thing. But she was never grounded in reality and frustrated him endlessly. Still, unlike some of the others, she was one of the more tolerable ones, even he had to admit to himself. That wasn't enough to coax him into dropping his cold gaze, so he simply shook his head. "I'm fine here." he said bluntly. Todd looked at Bé with a peculiar gaze, not the friendly sort, he thought, turning back to Aislin, "A magical faction...friends, you say? Hmmm...Okay...Sure, no biting though." he said with a cheeky grin. Gisèle was a bit of a wallflower, despite her beauty, so she clung Bé's side against the back wall. He was the only familiar prescence to her there. Todd looked back at her, ignoring Bé, who seemed preoccupied with some kind of revelry, "Will you be okay?" Todd asked her in a sweet tone. Gisèle nodded, showing a ghost of a smile, "Mhmm, I'll be okay here with my cousin for now." Todd nodded, "Okay," and set off behind Aislin to move closer to the group. Left to his own devices, Bé just remained where he was. There was too much going on, too many voices and smells in this small, splintered room. He just wanted to leave to a place of quiet and solitude. Bé let out a deep sigh, crossing his arms when he noticed Leon approaching with outstretched arms. "Mon Dieu, Bé!? Bé!?" Leon said. Bé staggered, not out of disgust, but rather vexation. "Bonjour, Leon..." Bé said cooly, running his hand through his curly locks, not showing any particular interest or spirit in his very formal greeting. Bé hadn't even thought that Leon would be here. A silly assumption. He immediately remembered their night of passion, but in his mind, he was emotionally vulnerable during that time. He had just committed a terrible act; letting a coven member die to the Stygian Snake and in his rage for the lies wrought against him, had transformed the corpose into a charm bracelet. He fidgted with the gilded accessory on his wrist, remembering how not long after, he had slept with Leon in the spur of the moment when the opportunity presented itself. Hell, he had been the one to initiate it. Very out of character for him, having given little thought to the consequences of said action. Bé just needed something to distract his mind from everything that had transpired, and Leon just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That was, at least, how he justified it to himself. His first foray into fornication. And his last. Bé continued looking at him blankly, not planning to reciporcate the hugging, as Todd probably would have. Frankly, he didn't know how to react to the only man, the only person, he had ever lied with. It was, unfamiliar territory all over again. It made it uncomfortable. But just then, Bé perked up as a strange, child-shaped shadowy creature burst into the room and fell onto the floor withering in pain. It could speak, that much was clear, so obviously it was human. Bé looked at the thing curiously, beside him, Gisèle covered her mouth in horror, murmuring some French epithet in shock. From his vantage point, from his immediate analysis of everyone's reaction, they must of have known this creature, because some of them rushed to aid the small abomination. Bé took note of the crystal protruding from it. He felt, a strange energy emanating from the boy. Strange indeed. Before he had too much time to react, however, Leon grabbed him by the shoulders, manuerving him out of harms way. How chilvarous. Bé's attention turned back to Leon after this, watching him charge out the room, sword in hand. Greenwood? Who was Greenwood? Bé was unfamiliar with this party, but braced himself beside Gisèle in case something even more sinister popped off. See? This is why he wanted to stay away from these people. Only a few minutes here and already he could feel himself being dragged into the trenches. These people were magnates for chaos. As everything unfolded, Bé remained still, watching everything unfold; Luca withering the crystal down to dust and then passing out on the boy they called, Clancy. Stormy and Sully going over to assist with her own unique capabilities. Here we go again, Bé ruminated. Todd had kept a close eye on everything transpiring too. He had moved to go help the shadow boy, but when they resolved the matter, he sighed, glad things hadn't escalated further. Well, they had escalated further when Luca passed out and the threat of Greenwood betrayal was floated. He moved closer to Luca's unconscious form. The poor lad. One had awoken and the other had fallen in its place. Todd kneeled next to Jasper, rustling through the satchel hung across his firm, atheltic body, before pulling out something organic and leafy, shaped like a small amorphous sphere of jelly. It had a unique scent, like moonflower and mint and was soft to the touch. "Jasper, give him this when he wakes. It's an anodyne. Have him eat it to help with any lingering pain that may persist." After passing off the medicinal object and patting Jasper on the shoulder as reassurance, Todd righted himself just as Greenwood walked in. He looked at them with cautious anticipation, but his posture relaxed slightly once they brought out pizza and seemed to be here under positive pretenses. This was the Greenwood he had overheard everyone speaking of. The Greenwood Aislin had mentioned to him earlier. Okay okay, so they're here to help. Good. His natural instinct was to lead and to greet them, but for now, he'd remain alert and supportive. He had just returned to the coven. He'd see how the new dynamics unfolded before fully integrating his own ideas into the fold. NPCs Gisèle, Bé's Cousin Marceau, Bé's Bodyguard (Currently off somewhere taking a piss, not fulfilling his duties.)

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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_{Bé and Todd 《》 St. Portwell, Oregon [ House on the Hill ] 《》 Entwined Fates 《》 [@AeolianBé, Marceau, Gisèle, Todd]}

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When it came to finding some commonground between Bé and Todd, there were very few similarities that one could see. But there were two things these men seemed to share on an intristic, visceral level; loss and a soul-crushing desire for recovery. One had lost his past, the other, his wife and himself, both vestiges of their former idenities sent off into the ever cascading winds that brisked upon their faces that evening. Little did they know that their fates were entwined on this fateful, fateful day. And perhaps, through this new chapter with the coven and eachother, they could recovery what was lost. Back in St. Portwell, Bé had adjusted quite poorly to his new accomadations. While Gisèle remained off-site at the nearest hotel, Salazaar the hermit had stuffed Bé and Marceau into the small, dingy cramped attic where they shared an old, wrought iron bed and a wooden dresser off in the corner. Bé had been tempted to use his magic to make his new abode, more, Bé-like, but Salazaar warned him the night before, not to mess with anything he had not been permitted to touch, which was most of the attic. It was stuffed to brim with all sorts of strange curiosities and artifacts and features of nature. Eyeballs in glass jars, a butterfly trapped in amber, the head of a mandrake, it was all there, and more. Marceau was morbidly curious by all the oddities, but Bé belched in utter digust and spent very little time in that room, other than to sleep. On that fateful that he would meet his old coven mates once again after so many many years, Bé had received a call from Auri, urging him to attend the meeting at the House on the Hill. While he had initially refused, feeling his presence in St. Portwell was enough of an existential punishment against him, Gisèle through her eloquence, convinced him to go with she and Marceau by his side. Marceau was the hired help, but Gisèle had promised his mother that she would look out for him as if he were her own brother. Todd had recieved the same call as well, only a few days prior. He had packed up what he could feasibly fit in his old 1995 Beetle, tearfully kissed his children goodbye, and set off toward his new accomadations, a modest flat near Memorial Park that stunk of stale bread from the bakery that operated beneath him. When Todd finally arrived at the House on the Hill, he couldn't believe where he was. It was almost as if, he were coming home. Not because of the location, but the people. Despite the grave circumstances, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of elation prickling under his skin. The kiss of his lips curved slightly upward, and walked toward the old abode. As he approached the door, he heard the rumblings of another car pull up behind him, a large black SUV. And out of it came Bé, Gisèle, and Marceau. Todd was not familiar with this trio, but they had an air about them, refined and regal. At least Bé and Gisèle moved with sophistication and their all-black silken garbs made them look like a neo-French royalty, effortessly glamorous and beautiful. Their sparkling aquatic eyes constrating against their dark skin was the most captivating element Todd took notice of. Marceau, on the other hand, appeared as grunge as ever. He was practically shirtless, just a thin tanktop fitting enough to cover his v-line and nipples. Todd smiled warmly at the newcomers as they walked up and paused in front of him, "Eh, howdy. I'm Todd. You here for the meeting?" His gaze met Bé's and he could sense a coldness radiating from the man. Bé was uninterested with any sort of pleasentries. He just stared at Todd, until Gisèle interjected awkwardly, "Heh heh, sorry. My cousin can be quite obtuse. Yes, I ummm, I do believe we are here for the coven meeting, right? I'm Gisèle. This is my cousin Bé and his companion, Marceau." Gisèle's english was sufficient enough, but she worried that her French accent might make understanding her a challenge. Luckily, Todd was not at all alarmed and in fact, found it quite charming. Marceau knew very little english all together, and so he remained quiet but attentive, giving Todd a firm handshake, as this was the American thing to do from what he saw on the tele. Todd nodded, "It's a pleasure to meet ya'll. Shall we?" "Sure," Gisèle said softly. Todd couldn't help but catch Bé's icy blue gaze again. The beautiful frenchman was statuesquare, a once-in-a-century beauty personified, but his countenance almost sat in a perpetual scowl, as though he dreaded being there. It unnerved the Cheyenne man, but Todd shook his head of the thought and went up to the door. Of the trio, Bé seemed the most familiar to him, but their time together in the Coven must of been very brief, no? Todd could not place any memories they might have shared, not even a greeting in passing. Todd knocked on the door. Once. Twice. Nothing. He tried wringling the door knob, but the old door just creaked, and heaved, unwilling to provide them with passage through the threshold. "Is it locked?" Gisèle asked, looking over his shoulder. Todd chuckled, "Seems that way, but, i've got it. Just a moment." Todd wasn't sure he should use his magic so openly in-front of these unfamiliar individuals, but, if they weren't who they said they were, it was unlikely they would be able to see anyways. The blind were always so oblivious to magical phenomena, even when it sat right in front of them, gilded and bright. It only took a moment though for Todd to work his magic. Part of his right arm shifted, taking on a pale translucency. He slide it through the wooden door and twisted on the knob on the inside. The door creaked open. Gisèle looked amazed, "Thank you. Is that your magic? Are you like a ghost?" Todd chuckled lightly, walking through the threshold and turning to face her once he was in, "Something like that, yeah. Do you possess magic of your own?" Gisèle nodded, "Mhmm, we all do. Mine is woefully unimpressive, My cousin's on the other hand..." Bé brushed against her, "Gisèle that's enough. We are not here to make inutile pleasentries." He then turned to the native american man, his gaze steely and annoyed, "Todd, is it? Mind yours and we'll mind ours. Just lead us to the meeting room as you intended, s'il vous plaît." Todd was taken aback. The passive-aggressive nature of Bé's words vexed him. As someone who radiated warmth and commonality, Todd was at a loss on how to respond in kind. He didn't want an escalation, so he gave Bé a feigned smile, "Sorry bud, this way. Auri said it'd be in here." As they approached the room, they could hear voices discussing things from inside. Bé and Todd shared two entirely different experiences as they entered the room. Todd seemed excited, to see everyone again was almost overwhelming. But the discussion was so heated, he was certain that he had missed very important details. He figured he'd make niceities with everyone after the main discussion was over. Not wanting to interject or disturb, he sat in a chair near the back of the room, listening in closely to what was being said. Bé on the other hand felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of dread. "You wait outside the door" he said coldly to Marceau in French, "This isn't any of your concern." And in truth, Marceau wouldn't have understood what was being spoken anyways, aside from a few American swear words likely to be slung about. And so Marceau did as he was told and that was that. Bé took in who was all present. It did seem some people were missing, but seeing Anya and Sloane amongst the weeds was a slight, ray of light in the darkness. Despite his quiet fondness for them, he was not exactly the type to display it and greet old friends cheerfully, so he went to stand beside Todd, resting his lithe body against the back wall and crossing his arms. Gisele sat in the chair next to Todd and they shared a friendly smile before looking toward the main discussion that was unfolding. But If Bé could help it, he wouldn't speak a word to these people, some he recognized, others a bit unfamiliar to him. Most, he disdained for one reason or another. So AT LAST, Todd and Bé were finally with the coven, but how things will unfold with their arrival is yet to be seen. NPCs Salazaar the Hermit Gisèle, Bé's Cousin Marceau, Bé's Bodyguard

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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_{Bé 《》 St. Portwell, Oregon [ The Hermit's Shack in the Woods ] 《》 Haunted 《》 [@AeolianBé, Marceau, Cousin Gisèle, The Hermit]}

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The memory came to him like an ominous wind that billowed madly from the skies. A young boy, ripe and blue-eyed, lay on a rickety old table. The voice overhead was feeble, like a blue-lipped ghost, drawn into focus by a flick of the light, and only then could he make out two eyes the color of horror and darkness. He tried to stir, to shake himself loose, but those empty, abyssal eyes held him steady. There were no chains; nothing corporeal bound him to that table other than the glare of those unnatural eyes. They were like ink. If he reached out, he could almost feel them stain his fingers. His gaze filled with a mist. The eyes were fading, but so was everything else... When Bé came to, salty beads of sweat had fallen onto his lips. He sat up, wiping them from his brow and forehead with a silk handkerchief pulled from his coat pocket. Marceau was driving while Gisèle sat quietly beside him, fidgeting with her phone, an exasperated look on her countenance. She turned to him, "You're awake. I can't get any signal out here..." They were driving through the forest on an old, dirt road. The brush had become overgrown and had it not been for Marceau's keen sense of direction, they surely would have gone off the broken path. Bé pulled out his phone, looking at it coldly, "Likewise." As they trudged on, the moonlight that illuminated the forest seemed to dim, lost behind a veil of menacing shadows. His mother had warned him of this prior to his sudden departure from Paris. She had said, "When the moon disappears, you're almost there." It had been a rather tense couple of days leading up to D-day. He and his mother were not on speaking terms; they only shared curt text messages about how his preparations were progressing. Gisèle had certainly felt the distance that bloomed between them. Bé hadn't uttered so much as a word to her and the growing partition erected between like a Babylonian fortress knawed at her thoughts. Marceau tried to comfort her, to tell her that Bé would get over it eventually once the dust settled. But would he? Bé was not known to be forgiving, and any sense of betrayal was a grave offense to his personhood. Had she betrayed him by not fighting harder to contest his mother's behest? In any case, what was done was done, she relented. When they finally arrived at their destination, Marceau was the first to step out of the car. "What a dump." he said carelessly. Bé stepped out the SUV, followed by Gisèle. "You should feel right at home then," he responded cooly. Bé looked around. Through the thickness of the forest was a glade. The moon had come back from hiding and illuminated, at the center of the glade, an old two-story cabin made of worn, splintered wood. The windows were cracked, and a chimney atop filled the skies with warmth and smoke. He could make out the glimmer of candlelight from the bottom window closet to the front door. Why did this place feel, familiar somehow? He had not been here before, surely. He would know if he had, and yet, the feeling of "home" pricked at his skin like a tiny, persistent needle. Had he imagined those shadowy eyes? It was likely but a dream he cared to soon forget. Once his mind had cleared itself of the intruding thought, Bé and Gisèle shared a queer gaze and then slowly set forth toward the shack. After one final, brief pause, Marceau knocked on the door. They could hear shuffling from inside the cabin, the jingle of chimes, and the rattling of stone on iron. When the door creaked open, an old man wearing a turban and loose cloth stood before them. He was short, no taller than 5'2". He had a full beard and appeared haggard and gaunt like a skeleton. His eyes were milky and white, though Bé could have sworn he recognized the shape and fold of his eyelids. Oddly familiar. The entire house held the redolence of boiling venison and other unfamiliar, highly unpleasant smells. The man inhaled fumes from a strange, ornate pipe balanced between his lips and blew out smoke right into their faces. Marceau smirked, amused at the greeting. Gisèle coughed, while Bé covered his nose, unamused. After a brief silence, Bé gathered himself once the reality of where they were had finally settled like a blanket of morning dew, "Are you Salazaar?" Salazaar looked at them one by one, but his gaze remained firmly on Bé the longest. Those misty, silver eyes moved up and down Bé's silhouette as though he were analyzing his form for imperfections and cracks. "You've grown well." he finally said with a slight, almost imperceptible, upturn of the corner of his lips. Bé lifted an eyebrow, "Pardon?" Salazaar chuffed, "Come in. You're letting out my heat." NPCs Salazaar the Hermit Gisèle, Bé's Cousin Marceau, Bé's Bodyguard

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_{Todd 《》 St. Portwell [ Todd's Family Farm and Orchard ] 《》 Pained 《》 [@AeolianTodd, Aunt Esadowa, @BlizzStormy]}

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Life had taken a rather sudden and unfortunate turn for Todd as of late. He had not experienced a good night's rest since his partner's tragic murder at the hands of an unknown assailant, and every night, his crumpled form, balled up like an agonized fetus, convulsed and sodded the sheets in sticky sweat. He'd wake up screaming and clawing at his chest until his sister, the eldest of his family, Esadowa, would rush in to comfort him with one of her specialty sleep tonics she called Lull. After a certain point, Todd would find himself in the basement, having slipped through the floor in his sleep after another horrific night terror wreaked havoc on his psyche. And so, because he could not find peace at night, he spent his waking days preoccupied with a million-and-one tasks to complete. If he was not tending to the garden, then he was working to repair the roof, and if he was not doing that, then he was building a new bookshelf to accommodate his daughter's ever-growing book collection and so on and so on, as the days seemed to drag with his heavy gossamer heart. Aunt Esadowa had left her luxury high-rise in Seattle to return to the farm and assist her mentally ailing brother, who, with each passing day, seemed to lose himself more and more. But in a family of workaholics and busy bees, Aunt Esadowa was almost certain Todd was the most hardworking of them all. But even for him, this was...extreme. It wasn't until he received a call from Auri about coven murders that it all started to click. What began as nothing but a blip of a thought, festered like a wild and untamed weed, until the idea took root and could not be dislodged no matter how much he tried. Once he was sure of himself, he pulled his sister into the greenhouse after supper and confessed. "I'm going back to the coven," he said, determination emanating from his eyes. His two children were playing outside, so Esadowa shut the door quietly so as not to alert the them and turned to him with furrowed brows, "What?" "I'm going back to the cov..." he repeated. Esadowa put her hands up like a protesting mime, "No no, I heard you. I just...do not understand why you would go back at this point in your life. You have children." Todd stepped away from her, picking up a pot of soil, and began tending to the sprouting that crested slightly from the surface. He spoke softly, "Yes. And that is exactly why I have to return." He paused, turning over the soil with his fingers before continuing, "I didn't tell you this before, but I received a call. Former coven members are being hunted and murdered like cattle. I cannot sit idly by and wait for someone to come after me next." His sister followed him over, standing on the opposite side of the table so she could face him, "That is serious. But what about your children? Will you just abandon them for your old...friends?" "That's why I need you to stay here, at least for a while longer, just until I can help them figure this all out. My staying here, near my children, puts their lives at risk just as much as it does yours. I can protect all of you if I leave and stop this psychopath." Esadowa went quiet for a moment. This was not an easy request to spring on her so suddenly. A few weeks off was one thing, but who knew how long this would go on for. Weeks, months, half a year? She had her life, a career, and a wife back in Seattle that required her attention. She couldn't just compromise her current obligations, could she? Should the children come stay with her in the city? Todd looked out toward his children playing on the old family swing he'd repaired last summer, and a thick, heavy tear fell down his cheek. He wiped it away on his sleeve before turning his gaze back Esadowa, his countenance all the more grave with desperation. "Esa, please. I have to do this. I have to. Let me keep you all safe. I need this." After a heavy silence, Esadowa sighed. "Okay, let me make some calls," She relented, crossing the table to hug him warmly. That was all Todd needed. He was sure he was making the right decision for children. At the very least, he hoped so. That night, Todd called someone he had been very close to within the Old Coven, someone who felt like a true brother. The call went straight to voicemail, so he left a message instead. "Stormy, my friend, it has been a long while since we've seen each other, hasn't it? I'm sorry that I am only now returning. *There was a brief silence* My wife is dead. Nova is dead. I...I don't know what else to do other than to come back and help put an end to this madness. I have to protect my children. It's the only way. Please call me when you're able. Can we meet? Perhaps with the other members? At least...those who can. I'll do everything I can to help. I've missed you all, my friend. Let's put an end to this. NPCs Aunt Esadowa, Todd's Older Sister

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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_{Bé 《》 Paris, France [ Bé's Flat ] 《》 Weary 《》 [@AeolianBé, Marceau, Cousin Gisèle, Tito]}

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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. [In English, because of Tito] 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, "What are you doing here?" 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, "Your mother wants you to leave Paris, for your own safety." "I will do no such thing." 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, "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." Bé rolled his eyes, "I can, and I will." "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." 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, "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." Gisèle shook her head, looking up at him fiercely betwixt the corporeal tension that polluted the air, "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." 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. "We speak in circles, and yet my answer remains the same. No." 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. "Enough!" 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, "Here's the deal. If you don't agree to this, you won't have a career to come back to." 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, "Has my mother really gone so far as to mangle all my prospects if I do not comply? Has she truly?" "Afraid so, kid. She's good. Real good." "Then my mother is a real tart isn't she..." Bé murmured, finishing up the flute of bubbly. Gisèle, on the other hand, was foaming at the mouth with anger, "Don't talk about your mother like that, Bé! She has gone to great lengths to protect you and give you a good life..." She paused for a moment, a queer expression upon her face that Bé couldn't quite place, "A new life..." she said softly. "A new life? What is that supposed to mean?" Bé asked, eyebrow raised. Gisèle shook her head, "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." 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, "Where am I to be shipped off to then? Boston? Montreal?" Tito grunted, "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." 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, "Who's hungry?" 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 THAT 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. NPCs Tito, Bé Manager Gisèle, Bé's Cousin Marceau, Bé's Bodyguard

Summary

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1: 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.