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Author Topic: Every Rose has its Thorn- Brielle Desrosiers  (Read 476 times)

Little Lotte

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Every Rose has its Thorn- Brielle Desrosiers
« on: September 19, 2021, 09:25:33 PM »
Brielle Desrosiers





Name: Brielle Desrosiers
Age: 20 years
Race: Human, Dementlieuse
Religion: Ezra, non practicing
Origin: Valey, Dementlieu


Little Lotte

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Re: Every Rose has its Thorn- Brielle Desrosiers
« Reply #1 on: September 19, 2021, 09:27:43 PM »
Deja vu.

In the years since she had moved into the Desrosiers family estate with her mother and Brice, she had witnessed her fair share of traumatic moments. Each one was vastly different but they all held the same feeling of melancholy that settled over the family equally. The children had all been together the last time they received a letter from the government addressed to the Marquis. Emile, Emeric, Eglantine, Brice and Brielle. When they were given the news that Armand and Marilene had been executed in Port-a-Lucine, they had clung to each for support, finding the means to move on by strengthening their familial bonds. All they had were each other.

The years change all however, and Emile being the oldest was the first to move on. Marrying as soon as he was able and producing an heir of his own, as was his duty. Eglantine left next, her mind was the sharpest of the brood and the Marquis knew she would benefit from a proper education abroad. Brice went then, a soldier's life called to him. He was devoted to Dementlieu, prepared to fight for his country at any cost. This left Brielle and Emeric at home, relying on one another through thick and thin.

So on one particularly warm day in July, in the year 775, while Brielle sat on the expansive porch of the Desrosiers Estate, partaking in a cool drink, Emeric rode up on his horse. He had been out in the fields surveying the work being done, and had earned a brief respite with his cousin.

“You look absolutely horrid, Emeric.” Brielle chided as her cousin sat down across from her, picking up the glass filled with cool water. He grinned, sweat dripping down his face.

“Be nice, or I will tell Grandfather that I think it best you go out to the fields with me for educational purposes.” Emeric shot back, grinning despite knowing his threat was empty. They had their own duties on the estate, Brielle’s was the fauna while his, the flora.

It was during their laughter at the joke that the sound of hooves galloping towards them caught their attention. They rose together as they saw the uniform. For a brief moment, excitment coursed through Brielle’s entire body. Brice, her brother, he had come home! He had made it home from Ameranthe, despite what everyone had said. He would prove everyone wrong and be welcome home as a hero.

Little did Brielle know, but today would end up being the worst day of her life. As the rider closed the gap between the manse and him, it became glaringly obvious that it was not her brother and just like that, the wind had left her sails and she found herself reaching out for the table nearby to steady herself.

“Announce yourself and your purpose here, Monsieur!” Emeric shouted towards the rider, positioning himself in front of Brielle.

The galloping horse slowed, mere feet from the cousins. Brielle could hear him clear his throat, preparing to speak and when he did so, there was a solemn quality to it.

“I have an urgent missive for the Marquis of Valey, Monsieur. From Amaranthe.”

The rest of the conversation went by in a blur to Brielle. She could hear Emeric talking with the rider, but she seemed unable to make out the words, all she could hear was the blood pumping in her ears as dread overcame her. Emerics voice became louder as he seemed to argue with the messenger, yet still, no words were discernable.

It was in that moment, that every memory she had of her beloved older brother, flashed before her eyes. Their childhood, their losses and triumphs, every conversation they had ever had. Every pep talk. Every tear they shed, or hug they shared. It all came flooding back to Brielle as the voices around her began to clear. Unable to stop it, tears began to streak down her cheeks and finally, the eternal optimist of the family, found her voice.

“Is my brother dead?”
« Last Edit: September 19, 2021, 09:29:32 PM by Little Lotte »

Little Lotte

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Re: Every Rose has its Thorn- Brielle Desrosiers
« Reply #2 on: September 21, 2021, 09:58:07 PM »
It was the shrill wail of anguish originating from behind Brielle that snapped her back to the present. Suzette Desrosiers, widow to Alphonse Desrosiers, the Marquis second son had appeared at the doorway when she heard Emerics voice rise. She had seen the government uniform, she had heard Brielle’s question and let the pain of it resonate deep within her heart before finally allowing it all to crumble down.

Brielle stood on the porch in silence, relying solely on the table for support. Tears cascaded down her cheeks freely now but she did not make another sound, instead focusing on the devastation coming from her mother.

The Marquis appeared behind Suzette, who had crumbled in the doorway, her legs unable to keep her upright when the loss of her first born child was made clear to her. The elder man took in the scene, his lips twisted into a frown before he motioned with his hand towards Emeric. “Bring me the missive, my boy. Then see to your aunt.”

Doing as he was told, Emeric moved quickly towards the rider to take the sealed envelope. He gave a nod, and sent the man on his way. As he turned around, he cast his gaze over Brielle as she stood completely still, if it weren’t for the rapid rise and fall of her chest he would be convinced she had turned to stone.

Brielle’s eyes, red rimmed, and flooded with tears shifted to look at Emeric. They silently told him to see to her mother, that she would be fine. It was all he needed to move past her and to finish their grandfathers command. The youngest Desrosiers attempted to clear her throat, one small motion, in an attempt to will the rest of her body to move. Her fingers twitched as she slowly moved her hand towards the glass of water in front of her, desperate for a sensation other than the grief she felt at present.

Brice was five years older than her, but they had been thick as thieves her entire life. He was her confidant, protector and friend for twenty years and now suddenly, just like that, he was gone. There would be no more midnight talks, or sneaking to the kitchen after supper for a treat. No more long rides through the forest or making traps during hunting season. She was alone.

The wailing of her mother in the background dragged her back to the present, and finally she took a breath. Very slowly she turned around to see the last remaining member of her immediate family, being rocked tenderly by Emeric as he tried in vain to console the hysterical woman. Brielle stepped forward then, her boots thudding on the wooden porch, her stride long as she went to her mother’s side. A silent glance of gratitude towards her cousin was all she could muster. Understanding her meaning, he released his hold on the older woman and stood, leaving the two of them to fall apart together.

Little Lotte

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Re: Every Rose has its Thorn- Brielle Desrosiers
« Reply #3 on: October 02, 2021, 11:35:26 PM »
She had lived in a world of grey for months now. The loss of her most adored brother had catapulted her into the ether where she had a difficult time dealing with the reality of the world. The eruption of Mount Nyid, casting its dark shadow over the land, blanketing the once vibrant land of Valey in ash, fit the mood that the girl lived day in and day out.

Waking up became a chore. Dressing. Eating. Smiling. Acts of living that came so naturally to her now felt like impossible tasks, and oftentimes led to her remaining locked in her room to stare out the window upon the sheet of grey that had become her life.

It was there that she sat when she heard Emerics voice at her side. Her name, he was saying her name, calling her back to the real world. Her eyes met his. He smiled. He looked tired, so very tired and older than she remembered him being. The last few months had been difficult on everyone, why was she just now seeing it.

“Brie? Brielle?” He spoke softly, the warmth in his tone palpable. She looked dutifully at him.

“It’s time for me to go now Brie.” An outstretched hand cupped her face gently. He was worried about her, that much was evident in his expression.

She had forgotten he was leaving. The haze she had lost herself in had stolen time from them and suddenly emotion welled up in her throat. She knew he had to go. He had to make his way in the capital and find a way to save Valey, but that would mean she would be all alone.

The last of the Desrosiers children in Valey.

She wanted to speak to him, to beg him not to go. She needed him here, to watch over her as she wasted away from grief. No, that was selfish. This was his duty. This is what he was born to do, she couldn’t ask him to give his life up for her.

And so she gave him a gift in parting. The only gift she could give, that would send him off with confidence.

She smiled. It was warm, it was soft and it was full of love. In that smile she promised him that she would survive, that it was alright for him to leave.

“Thank you, Brie. I’ll come home for another smile soon, oui?” This comment elicited a laugh from the youngest Desrosiers, quiet in nature, but an obvious positive step on the road to healing.

Before she knew it, Emeric had departed her room, leaving her in silence once again. Only now, the air within the well furnished domain felt different. Clearer. She could breathe again, despite the nagging loneliness within her heart, it was obvious to her that her path was clear.

She would need to prepare a concise argument with the Marquis, her grandfather, as to why she needed to travel to Port-a-Lucine with him.

Little Lotte

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Re: Every Rose has its Thorn- Brielle Desrosiers
« Reply #4 on: October 18, 2021, 06:14:00 PM »
Barovia. It was a frigid land, full of sinister creatures peering out at you from the thick brambles and wicked men who spoke honeyed words in an attempt to get that which they covet. Why would Emeric even come here?

Brielle sat alone in the Ladies Rest Inn, sipping her luke warm tsuika as the fireplace crackled nearby. There were other patrons coming and going, of course, the Vallaki outskirts seemed a very transient place.

When she had finally convinced her grandfather to allow her leeway to travel after Emeric, she had no idea she would end up in such a backwater location. She tried to see the beauty in the country, with its lush forests and crisp green fields, but always lingering was that feeling that she was being watched. A sinister voyeur who seemed to wait for her to let her guard down so that it could consume her.

She was glad to find out that Emeric had moved on from Barovia, and had made his way back to Dementlieu, and when she had the funds to travel, she would do the same. She took on menial tasks, far below her station just to acquire the amount needed, and even then it wasn’t enough but it became increasingly clear she needed to leave.

There was a man. A dark, brooding and menacing man. She could feel his eyes on her when she wasn’t watching. His hunger was palpable, in more than just his words and his desire sent shivers down her spine. He followed her, stalked her, coveted her…and she was afraid. So even though she had not earned the amount of money she had set for her trip, she had to depart. He had offered to walk her, and the optimistic part of her had wanted to accept, a naive hope that he wouldn’t actually act on the words he spoke to her in hushed tones.

Brielle had always trusted her instincts though. She was a huntress, she understood the fight or flight instincts of animals and that they used it to survive all manner of predators. So when the man whispered, and the hair stood at the back of her neck, she trusted it was time to run.

As the sun rose over the grey city of Vallaki, Brielle took to the forests on the outskirts and quickly and quietly made her way away from the sinister feelings that promised to consume her very being.

Little Lotte

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Re: Every Rose has its Thorn- Brielle Desrosiers
« Reply #5 on: November 09, 2021, 12:07:39 AM »
All work and no play…all work and no play…

Since her arrival in Port-a-Lucine, Brielle Desrosiers had set about doing every task she could think of. Working for the Culture Advisor, woodworking and sculpting, running the family salon, planning events and making connections. She performed all of her duties in the name of her family, in the name of loyalty.

She did her best to embody what it meant to be a proper young noblewoman, to make her grandfather, the Marquis, proud of her.

All work and no play…

What would Brice do? A common saying between her cousin and her. What would her brother do? Would he do his duty, or would he choose happiness?

All work and no play...

Her eyes had tracked him through the crowd like a cat watching its prey. Just as instructed. Every movement he made, every expression on his face caused her skin to tremble, her stomach to flip. The opposite of obligation.

All work and no play…

Propriety. Stop. Remember who you are. Loyalty. Duty.

Love. Devotion. Respect. Trust.

All work and no play…

The wine fizzed with resin. She swallowed it down. Her heart thumped nearly out of her chest, terror first and then the knock came. Peace. Remember who you are, Brielle.

All work and no play…

What would Brielle Desrosiers do?

Little Lotte

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Re: Every Rose has its Thorn- Brielle Desrosiers
« Reply #6 on: December 01, 2021, 11:07:56 PM »
Sleep felt foreign to the noblewoman of late. She tried, of course, but would rarely succumb to the slumber she so desperately longed for. Her room was too big, too quiet, too lonely. Even with Rook, who would come visit through her window when called, she longed for more.

Everything was so hard lately. Every emotion was raw and she struggled to conceal her true feelings. There were fleeting moments of true happiness with him, but even those were poisoned with the weight of “what if”.

What if, indeed? She had made her choice, and she had spoken it to her Grandfather. He had begged her to stay with him. He couldn’t lose another child. The melancholy in his voice and the heartbreak etched into his aged visage was enough to make her reconsider; to remember patience.

Even when the decision came down, even when he agreed, there was still that lingering “what if” under the surface. It was as if a dark cloud surrounded the whole of the Desrosiers family, stifling and smothering their blooms, like the ash of Mount Nyid.

What was she to do, as everything came crashing down around her?