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 Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 3:56 pm
A gentleman and a lady
Where
Fellowship Headquarters, Shyregoad
Who
Beatrix Amaranthe, and Cassandra (in a matchbox) & Yizhaq
(played by fairie lore & Indubitably)
When
Around noon, chilly.
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Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 4:23 pm
Time was a but a blur in this state of mind. It was something one waved goodbye to in the distance. Time slipped quickly out of one's hand when a person didn't concern themselves much with it.
Beatrix was on her break, though it could be probably say that she was indefinitely on her break. Since the carnival incident oh so very long ago it seemed like the need for her services were sparing, though this could be once again be attributed to tricks of the memory. In those six months she worked as she did back in her own laboratory, labor intensive and in a haze. It was both to inspire and to block out events, to allow her mind to only think of one thing. And progress was slow, but such was the problem with exact sciences: they weren't exact.
But at the very least she had all the tools she needed at her disposal, or at the very least were easily attainable. Nobody she seemed to mind the Sage-look alike wandering about and borrowing something, and it seemed to usually be easier when she kept a smile off her face. That wasn't hard, usually.
But right now it was too early in the morning to be doing any work and there was also the fact that she was so very tired from so many exhausting evenings and sleepless nights. Her 'medicine' could not push away all her insecurities and troubles all hours of the day. When it lessened they all came flooding back ten times worse.
So here she was standing in the middle of one of that many study rooms in the headquarters, staring intensely at a painting of some man that looked very stoic and wise, who was now probably long deceased. That was life, so very fleeting. She'd managed to have enough sense when she woke up to put on a robe, but it looked rather thin and if she was able at all to have much grasp on reality she'd been shivering. Instead she merely was looking up at the painting with such attention that it looked like she mine swell be praying to it.
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Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 4:44 pm
"He won't move if you look away, you know," The tone was low, amused as Yizhaq decided to stop watching Beatrix and to start engaging her.
It was not strange for him to be here, always an early riser, no matter the time he took his rest the night prior. Lately, that had been quite late indeed. No, far stranger for her [definitely not a mage of any sort, and only passable as a scholar with her dark lined eyes and gaunt, spaced out features] to be here, let alone in that garb. In fact, he felt more than a little uncomfortable with her, a double to his superior, hardly clad.
That wasn't clear on his face, however, his smile friendly as he greeted her, bowing slightly over her hand as he brushed his lips across it in greeting. He was, at all times, a gentleman. "Lord Yizhaq bin Saleh, I would understand if you did not remember me, mi'lady." It seemed unlikely that she should not, however, considering his knowledge of her deception.
"May I serve you in anyway?" Perhaps she was simply a bit lost, though her intense stares seemed to say otherwise. Scientists were an odd lot, that was certain. "I trust your stay here has been satisfactory, no?" He was polite enough to not comment on her attire, however, his slim fingers found the buttons of his overcoat, removing it and offering it to her.
"It is quite cold, this morn, I would think myself an awful host," Which he was, being of the Fellowship, "Should you catch a chill."
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Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 5:04 pm
At first, Beatrix did not notice the voice. It was not out of any rudeness that she did not immediately turn to the presence, but rather it was half of her mind telling that the voice could have come from the painting itself, or from somewhere in the wall. But once he came into focus it was hard not to turn to him, looking at him with a half curious, half glazed look.
That curiosity very much increased when he took her hand and was most courteous to her, a smile easily settling on her face. The jumble of words that followed as an introduction entirely passed her by. The fact that he spoke to her with familiarity didn't really help in her remembering who he was. But as he said, he didn't fault her for not remembering - because she didn't, having blocked out as much of that awful day as she could. And right now especially none of that would come to her.
Beatrix cocked her head at the following words, and this seemed more or less comical to her. "Yes, it has. It's very nice here, although a little gray. I mean, it's very scenic like where I come from." She said and furrowed her brow, watching him take off his overcoat. She didn't seem to incredibly understand why he was doing it, so she simply stared at it.
"Oh." She said with a purse of the lips, and finally shook her head at the offering. "I'm sorry, I'll have to decline. It would be counter intuitive, you see." She continued, but didn't explain further. "Instead, maybe you could tell me who he is? And you don't have to be so formal. We are friends, right?" She said happily, lending out her hand - perhaps to shake, or just merely another random gesture.
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2011 12:51 pm
She was clearly out of sorts. It was, of course, unclear if it was true sickness, magical drain, or something in the mind [or another thing altogether], and Yizhaq found himself distinctly on-edge. Unwilling, for a moment, to comprehend that she had been so uncultured as to refuse his coat, he simply held it out for another beat or two, before folding it over his forearm and glancing once [a tad incredulously] at her hand. They had, of course, already had a proper greeting, and so it was odd, indeed, that she held it aloft once more.
At her words, he raised his brows, both not wanting to argue, but not in agreement. Friends was hardly what they were, and yet... "We are indeed allies, yes." For the time being. The echo of his conversation with Sage and her Sword relentlessly pounded in his mind, and instead, he caught on her earlier statement.
"Is that so? And where is it that you are from? I, myself, was not born in Panymium, though raised in Imisus until my early teen years."
He would have to ask someone about this girl, perhaps Sir Sloane, and be sure that she was looked after.
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2011 7:11 pm
To her, it was this man that acting odd and rather mechanically. Beatrix just blinked as he held out the coat, standing by her words. She didn't want the coat, as she had said. She just watched as he folded it over and waited for him to speak, since as a lady she aware of the fact that she needed to let the other person reply before she continued. Instead, he seemed to be looking at her quite surprised though she couldn't really understand why.
As he began to speak and didn't shake her hand she took it back, her arm lazily swinging to go back beside her, just hanging there. She gave the slightest frown at the word allies, because indeed that was not synonymous with friends. It sounded merely a step above acquaintances, but she didn't argue with this sour man.
Her relatively upbeat demeanor seemed to mellow out at the mention of where she came from, and she turned her attention back to the painting for a moment, just gazing off. "Not from here. Or Imisus." She said flatly, still staring at the painting. "There were fields and it was nice and warm." She murmured, turning her attention back to him and her expression returned to something cheery. "Why did you leave Imisus?" She asked, not imagining that she possibly imposing or being nosy. It was simply where her curiosity carried her.
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2011 7:27 pm
"That sounds much more pleasant than this fierce terrain."
It didn't seem that he took offense to her question, in fact, he relaxed a bit at the mention of the home of his youth. It wasn't a cheerful response, but one simply that expressed acceptance, "My father died, and as his only child, I returned to his estate here, in Shyregoad, to settle his affairs and put my inheritance in order." And to further serve the Fellowship, of course, as was only what was required, after their loss of a prominent Plague-Studier.
"I still visit," His tone was softer then, as he explained, "My home in Imisus, that is. It's where I met my wife." She wouldn't have liked Beatrix, likely, but then again, he had yet to meet someone she really did care for. The woman was difficult to please, but the arrangement had suited their families well.
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Posted: Sat Nov 09, 2013 12:19 am
"It doesn't matter very much, for I am here and not there.." Her tone dipped into contemplation and tinge of sadness. Beatrix had not returned to where she had been born in a very long time. She had been, as it were, permanently uprooted. Placed into different climates that did not suit her. It was cold here in temperature, but there were other sort of chilly environments that were worse...
Beatrix looked even sadder at the mention that his father had died, but her expression seemed solemn though beautiful, as if she was a fit figure to be painted. "I am sorry for your loss." It could only be the tone of an individual who had lost someone dear. In truth, she had lost both of her parents.
"It is good to revisit the past, sometimes." She replied when he said that he returned. For her, the past was not a pleasant place to revisit. Upon the mention that he was married, she looked at him as if she hoped to be able to understand his character just by sight. Same as how she had been looking at the painting to gleam something more from it. "Are you both happy?" If it was an inappropriate question Beatrix didn't seem to realize it, as there was nothing to indicate that she was purposely trying to make him uncomfortable.
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