the knives in the kitchen are singing for blood.
Black-eyed flowers spatter the fields. Cool wind blows through swaths of bluegrass at the foot of the Arma Mountains. The soft white noise of crickets blooms from the dirt. Overhead, what might be this year’s harvest moon shimmers a strange shade of blood-red, shedding thin, warm light onto the path below, a path that Bexley Briar is traversing with iron-willed dedication.
No longer is she Solterra’s golden girl. The Regent’s gilded skin has gone dull under a fine layer of dust; the blue of her eyes has lost its ocean turbulence; what magic used to play over her, a veil of sparkles and light, is buried deep and locked away. Even the chain around her neck seems to have faded, mattified, lost its metallic glow, and its place against her throat is cast into darkness by the shadow of her clenched jaw. The scene is ugly. It is desperate. It is a strange, awful sight to see when it lives on the skin of a girl who has never, ever, been ugly nor desperate.
Gods are unkind, she has realized, and so is everyone else. What is there left to be beautiful for?
Gods are unkind, or at least hers are. They are falsities. They are syrup dreams spun from want and blood, dreams that she has fallen out of far too many times. Una did not save her, and neither did Solis. It is dizzying to look up at the sky and think of aloneness rather than guidance, but perhaps that is the price Bexley has paid to see the truth, the now-unhidden adult world, the sub-surface, real universe that promises little and delivers on less, a universe fashioned from teeth and blood and bone. That awful reality bangs a sickening drumbeat in her chest. The reality of aloneness. Of estrangement. Of a syrup dream gone bad.
The scar on her face throbs suddenly. like it has its own heartbeat.
A soft old tune plays over the fields, drifting sweet and somber from the lantern-lit marketplace that opens up ahead of her. Bodies swarm the streets. Gauzy yellow light ripples over the cobblestone. It is a familiar scene, everything from the ribbon-draped stalls to the heady smell of incense, the sight of opalescent figures wandering the inner court.
She knew them, or had known them. Acton, Raglan, Reichenbach - so many Crow boys accidentally stealing her heart, and all of them ghosts, now, in the crowded streets of Denocte. All childish loveliness and unbridled enthusiasm. Bexley’s heart aches to see their specters walking the cobblestone streets, to see all her past loves gone and faded like the last bars of an old song. A choking feeling sits stony in her throat, pricks her eyes with the brackish threat of tears, and for a moment she feels her will waver. But it is only a moment, and when it passes he is all herself again, focused, driven, hiding her heartsickness with the deft hand of a practiced illusionist.
Bexley is nothing if not stubborn, and she knows what she has come for.
A crowd stands clustered in the center of the court, whispering, shuddering, unsettled. Above their heads a darkness glimmers and twists, like an oil-slick on water; wild onyx eyes shimmer black against the blue night; tiny prinpicks of stars wink in and out of existence against the satin-dark of Caligo’s skin, and from behind the mob, Bexley gazes upon Her with an unsure kind of reverence, as a deer worships a hunter, as a cynic worships Ragnarok.
She steps forward.
It is a quiet kind of brutality that convinces the crowd to let her through, a respect for the grimness in those dirty blue eyes. Clothed in dust and stubbornness, head high, shoulders tensed, gaze fiery, when Bexley’s voice leaves her lips it is iron and silk, righteous as ever, tangled with want: If you know me, you know we are the same.
Gods always behave like the people who make them -
She tilts a sad, cunning smile toward the deity, a smile lit with teeth and wolfish charm. Solis betrayed us both. I pray to no church but that which serves its people, and yours does. Rage, stifling and ice-cold, rushes through her chest like frost over petals, and Bexley has to consciously steel her breath so it won’t sound like a death rattle, but she does, and meets Caligo's gaze with fierceness. Reichenbach loved me, and I loved him, and this court. Every Crow in Denocte has seen me visit. Every politician on this continent has heard me come to the defense of Denocte. Even when it looked like they didn’t deserve it.
Her voice softens, fades.
We deserve what loves us. Is that worthy enough for you?
About the RPer
RB!
18!
Yes! Bex is regent in Solterra right now, and on my last site I had a main character who was a herd leader for multiple years IC before his daughter (also played by me) inherited it.
I love our community and how staff are able to keep the site exciting with plots and IC events multiple times a year. Novus is the first place in a long time that I’ve seen with this amount of continued effort put into it extending past the first couple months of opening.
General Information
Bexley
5 [Year 497]
Female [She/Her/Hers]
Bisexual
Arabian/Paint
15.2 hh
Appearance
https://sta.sh/0c6923j15m8
Bexley presents a beautiful picture of femininity and she knows it. Built short and more stocky than fragile, her huge blue eyes, thick reddish lashes and delicate facial structure give off the immediate impression of someone who is nothing more than innocent and attractive, but the smile on her face is more often mischievous than it is genuinely pleased. What detracts from this look of supposed innocence is the large, raw scar that splits her face into two equal sectors, trailing from just under her left eye to the corner of her mouth. It is often the first thing people notice when they look at her; the tale of the wound is a touchy subject. An excess of off-white curls make up her mane and tail, and are so thick that Bexley’s body sometimes seems overwhelmed by the amount of hair attached to it; most often the ways are kept loose, but sometimes they are braided or pinned back for battles or important first impression. Her coat is a very yellowish chestnut that looks entirely golden in direct sunlight, and minimal sabino markings have splashed her with uneven white stockings that reach past the knee on every leg, as well as a white facial marking that covers the bridge of her nose and coats the underside of her face up to the throat while leaving her cheeks and forehead chestnut. A thin gold chain hangs around her neck, an accessory that she’s been wearing for the vast majority of her life - as she’s grown into it, it’s become snug around the base of her jaw, but Bexley refuses to take it off, as it was given to her by her parents and remains her only reminder of the home she left behind. Her brother has a matching one, and so the necklace, while not a full show of Bexley’s childhood wealth, is extremely important to her. When she speaks, her voice is always deeper than one would expect it to be, feminine but low pitched and smoky; she laughs loudly and smirks more than she smiles. The scent of rosewater and incense smoke, always follow her.
Personality
Intelligent, ambitious, attentive, dedicated, friendly, confident
Petty, righteous, self-absorbed, unempathetic
Catty, loudmouthed and extroverted, Bexley operates on her own wavelength, which is that of a girl who has an excess of confidence and a lack of the common sense and humility that holds most people back from reaching their full potential. Dangerous situations, risk-taking and petty revenge are her specialty, though you’d never guess it by looking: purposeful plays off her very feminine appearance, complete with eyelash batting and girlish giggles, lead people to think that she’s nothing but a dumb blonde. Bex can be easily swayed by compliments and the attention she gets for looks, and while she prefers to run her schemes very independently, she’ll never turn down an opportunity to be worshipped and put in the spotlight. This, combined with Bexley’s penchant for all things beautiful ,and the materialism ingrained in her since birth, makes up the classic Barbie side of her personality - but her love of playing ditsy and cute is only a coverup for her real personality, that of a girl that is overtly ambitious, conniving, and will steamroll almost anyone to get what she wants.
She’s turned a 180 since her days as a calm, quiet child and grew instead into a mercurial being, a hedonist at heart who obeys whatever wants float through her head and remains focused on herself only. For all her practiced planning and trickery, Bexley is still naturally impulsive. Though she doesn’t do it often, she does know how to hold her tongue, and always seeks to learn about others before she reveals anything about herself.
Attentive and quick on the uptake, Bexley considers herself a problem solver and is not easily spooked by challenges. She trusts her gut and will happily take on basket cases or help other people with their deep-rooted issues if she thinks it’ll help her in the long run. A social butterfly, Bex has an extremely limited inner circle but a way of making everyone feel like they’re friends with her anyway, bouncing from group to group in order to find out what she wants to. An absolute refusal to lose her games and a lack of genuine sympathy makes Bexley - though she’s often underestimated - an unexpected but dangerous enemy, as well as a valuable addition to any circles she finds worthy of her time.
The rare soul who is able to crack through both Bexley’s catty exterior and Machiavellian second layer will find someone who has been shaped by trauma since her earliest days. Untrusting and violent as she is, she cares deeply for the people she loves and houses an undying loyalty to those who have been good to her. She is secretly soft-hearted. Her elevated sense of righteousness, and almost-maternal need to protect herself and others, makes her formidable when it comes to what she loves.
History
A golden child since the moment she was born, Bexley’s childhood was entirely sunshine and riches, filled with the doting over-affection and under-discipline of her parents, the immediate respect and worship of those that lived in her homeland, and, best of all, the built-in partner in crime of her brother, Laszlo.
For millennia, the Briars had ruled over Greer-Briar, the populace protected by the watchful eye of the demigod Una; her daughter was Bexley’s mother, who married a mortal foreigner and birthed an heir and heiress to the Briar throne. Being the youngest sibling in the family, and a girl, Bexley was coddled immensely. Provided with jewels, attention, and whatever else her heart desired, the time she spent at home was blissful. The last princess of a well-respected family absolutely brimming with royal blood, it would be hard for anyone not to get sucked into the black-hole of riches and entitlement, and Bexley was as impulsive as the next teenage girl; she let herself fall into a lazy, hedonistic lifestyle, with days marked only by new pieces of jewelry or trips to the coast with her friends. But the highlight of her days always remained her brother. She and Laszlo would go off on adventures through the mountains, wreak havoc on the other kids, and for years used their blissful ignorance to avoid the lessons that would eventually be pushed on them as they learned to become royalty.
At a little past two years old, her world began to dissolve. It took quite a while for her to notice; at that point, Bexley was still extremely sheltered, and stubborn enough to see only what she wanted to see. But eventually, the unrest of the common kingdom - one she had considered entirely separate from her perfect family - began to bleed into her life. Her parents held hushed arguments; jewels went missing from their stash; Laszlo was taken from her more and more, in order to attend emergency meetings and attempt to grasp his place in politics. Alone for the first time, Bexley’s hedonism ran as rampant as ever, but with no one to go to she became secluded and bitter, finding the sharp, angry side of her personality that had been missing previously.
And then the climax came, in an explosion of civil struggle that burned Greer-Briar to the ground. People were angry. Too long had Una ruled with and iron fist, and all the Briars had to be punished for it. Bexley had no idea, had only just learned what anger even felt like for her, couldn’t possible imagine the rage of the common people and the vendetta they held against her family. The Briars were perfect in Bexley’s head, but the citizens they lorded over suffered for their greed and pride, lacking in resource and community due to Bexley’s family’s inane control over them. Hundreds of years of Briar tyranny had leached their homeland dry. Families had been split, commoners imprisoned for simply disagreeing with the king, slaves taken and heirlooms stolen, and people were tired of it. With the leaders of the revolution knowing there was only one way to end the Briar lineage, Laszlo was executed.
Bexley took a look at the body of her beloved brother and knew that there was nothing left for her. Her parents would be dethroned, her riches taken, her status stripped, her pride run over. She had one chance to leave - start over, and be worshipped properly. Despite everything, her confidence had not wavered. Ichor, not blood, still ran through her veins. Her intelligence would be wasted if her brain rotted away inside her skull, cleaved in half by some angry commoner - that intelligence needed to be recognized, but it surely wouldn’t by these people. Stealing away in the middle of the night without a word to her parents, Bexley steeled her resolve and found her way to lands unknown.
Since arriving in Novus, Bexley has expanded her horizons considerably. While she’s risen to power in the ranks of the Day Court, not even Solterra can keep her locked in place; Bex wanders often and is known to make friends with the strangest of people, from the farthest reaches of any court. Having proven herself in battle against the Teryr, serving Seraphina, and standing up to Solis, her confidence and stubbornness has only increased as she pushes against her boundaries and fights tooth and claw to defy people’s expectations of her.
Sovereign Questions
Bexley knows very well how it feels to be shunned by Solis, and, in a larger sense, how it feels to be shunned by her peers - people have often disregarded her due to her looks and not taken seriously despite her intelligence. Similar to Caligo and the rest of Denocte, Bex is very passionate about what she loves and has learned watchfulness after years of trauma, but she remains stubborn in the face of adversity and will fight tooth and nail for what she believes in, devoted to her own goals and the very few people she considers important. Bexley relates to much of Denocte and Caligo’s struggles, and personally believes that because of her close friendship with Reich and many of the Crows, she should be the one to step up and save Reich’s reputation and the Court that they loved.
Bexley’s goals as Sovereign would be to rebrand Denocte as a Court full of trustworthy and loving individuals, rather than one of only thieves and tricksters; she has seen the beauty that the Night Court holds, and would not want to hide it away from the world. Ever the partier, it’s likely Bexley would throw lavish festivals and bestow gifts upon the other Sovereigns to rebuild Denocte’s political connections, while attempting to convince the populace that the only way to achieve lasting peace is to open themselves to the other courts. A more severe punishment would be put into place for those who threaten Denocte’s political safety. In Bexley’s eyes, forming alliances is of utmost importance in order to retain the Night Court’s vibrant culture and allow them to live in freedom.
I love you guys and I’m so excited to see everyone’s auditions!
