the prodigal daughter

Here are the sparknotes you need to get to know: Bea(triz) Ramos

or the full bio if you’re interested.

The Basics

Bea is generally very friendly and often thinks the best of people so it’s easy to strike up a conversation with her if you’re being genuine.

She grew up very sheltered and because of that often has issues with trust, from either becoming exceedingly paranoid to oversharing, depending on the person.

Very easily holds a grudge, for big or little things. Steal her pen at work? Public enemy number one.

Has a cat named Theodore that she would kill for. 

x

“Uh…thank you!” Rohan called back up, overcome with a sudden sense of uselessness, as if he really did need to make himself look presentable before being discovered. Shifting his weight uncertainly from one foot to the other, he gave a sharp, bracing nod before starting properly up the staircase, as if to meet Bea half way. And catching sight of her, even in the half-dark, he allowed something that was not quite relief rush over him; they had met before. Rohan did not know if that would make the situation better. 

But he had learned well by now that when life forced him into strange circumstances, forces beyond his self were usually at work. He opened his mouth to speak up when Bea froze, and Rohan seemed to do the same, stopping on the step. The moments ticked by in shared stupor, and he let out a hitched breath. He had seen that expression before, seen it roll over certain people’s faces when he himself drew near, the stench of death clinging to him at all times. Could it be? “Are you…are you all right?” Rohan spoke up at last. “You, uh, you sort of…glazed over there.” He sniffed. Maybe it was rude to point out. A Forget-Me-Not spell on the tip of his lips, though, he braced his shoulders, opting for boldness, taking the universe’s hint. “He died here. The man. He won’t tell me his name.” One, two, three, four…He counted the seconds in his head he would have to undo what he just revealed. 

˗ˋˏ°• ✧ •°ˎˊ˗

“I’m fine, yeah of course,” Bea said in a rush, her hand tightening on the banister, “Just uh a... condition.” Which was true, if one considered being a banshee a condition. But even as Bea tried to hold her truths close, Mr. Persaud seemed to let his go in just a few quick sentences. Her breath left her in a whoosh as Bea dropped down to sit on the stairs. “Oh thank god,” she said, holding her head in her hands. “So you can see him? He’s making selling this house impossible. Do you know how many times we’ve been in escrow?” She shook her head, admonishing herself for being so selfish. “I mean, his name, I should have it on the paperwork in the attic.” Bea took a step up before turning around again and going back down, “Um, I mean, this is all a bit backwards, but I’m Beatriz. Real estate agent... and banshee.” It wasn’t every day she introduced herself so plainly, but well, he took the leap first.

-

Without breaking off his sales pitch, Leo took the sheet and dough he was handed and followed Bea into the house. “What if I lowball?” he suggested. “Like a crazy low bid, but just to get the conversation started. And–” He broke off, using the cookie dough package to point into the living room. “There’s something wrong with your living room.” Foregoing the kitchen entirely, he went to sit on the sofa that felt like it was made for humans, but only barely. As for her question: “No.” Yes. He desperately needed a job. Every day he didn’t have a job, that desperation meter was rising. He leaned back into the chair and crossed his legs, just to test how much he could spread out. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. 

Despite his denial, Leo jumped up as soon as he was given instructions and got to work first opening the cookie dough package. “You have butter to line the tray? I never know if you real food in these things.” He opened the fridge to look around. “Do you have those baskets of fake lemons? What are those for anyway?” More than the rising need for money–which was bad enough–the real problem with Leo’s current unemployment was that he was bored. Bored and now with more energy than he’d ever had in his life and absolutely no biological need to sleep. Ever. He had gone from an eighty hour work week to a zero hour one overnight and had absolutely no idea what to do with himself. “Okay, fair. It’s creepy. What about an intern? Do real estate agents have interns?” 

˗ˋˏ°• ✧ •°ˎˊ˗

Speaking of dishonesty... “It’s staging furniture. Just a bit smaller than average, makes the rooms look a bit bigger,” she said, “But it’s not the same as lying. Just, opening up the possibilities of what the home could look like... if they have slightly abnormal furniture.” She winced, but since she could actually say it out loud, it technically wasn’t a lie. Unlike his denial of this being a very odd job interview. 

“No it’s fine without it, no one’s going to eat them anyway. It’s for the scent. We’ll turn off the oven once they’re done and leave them in there while people walk through,” she explained as she looked over her paperwork. They were only expecting a few walkthroughs today, but it was an open house so they may have surprise visitors as well. “Hm? Oh the styrofoam fruit are just décor, but no, I don’t think our stager added any in here. They’re a bit outdated, actually,” she said, trying not to laugh. “Where did you see those anyway?”

Glad to finally get him off the live in model angle, Bea leaned back against the counter and watched him as he made his way around the shell of a kitchen. “We do. Usually they’re students or taking real estate courses. Something tells me you’re not one of those, though. What did you do before you loitered at open houses?”

⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅

“Oh I don’t know. He only invented the theory of relativity and is debatably the most influential physicist of all time, but yeah, no, you’re right. He’s a total quack,” Kai teased, rolling his eyes lightly over as the corner of his lips itched up into that of a soft smile. “Well, for one thing, if we’re going full names, I was actually born, uh, Hayashi Kaito. So, if you want to call me, Hayashi? Or even, Kaito, you can? That name’s pretty just reserved for my brother, but if you, um, if you want to?” He offered up, awkward running his hand over the back of his neck as he glued his eyes to the floor, feeling self conscious for once as he started to explain his many names. “St. Claire is my dad and Kai is just… easier? So, it’s really up to you, but as for the messy, I uh, I know I don’t. But,” but it was nice not having someone instantly compare him or equate him to the mass murderer that was his father and as much as he knew he could trust her, a part of him didn’t want to watch the way those bright eyes of hers change the moment she found out that he was on a path that mirrored that of his old man’s. “But, is it okay if we just stay in the little bubble have for a little longer? You know, before the rest of the world comes pouring in?”

“Bea Ramos,” Kai couldn’t help, but laugh. Leaning in, his low murmur of a voice tickled the inside of her ear as he couldn’t help, but tease her, “have you never been to a beach before? Or is more of the concept of a lack of clothes that has you diverting your eyes? The slightest blush pulling across your cheeks, hm? In fact, maybe we should go back to the honesty room. That way I can ask if you don’t secretly want to try it,” He teased some more as he took a step closer towards her so that her back was pressed up against the wall of the hall. But, as he watched her try to keep her voice even, he found the playful stride to his step dissipating as he took a step back once more. “What happened? You okay?” The concern evident in his voice as his eyes scanned hers as he waited to see if she’d chose to let him in or dismiss the notion to remain in the ease of each other’s presence for a little longer like he had done with her. 

“Yeah, well, I think you’re probably the only one who is, but you’re not so bad yourself, Ramos. Some of the best company I’ve ever had actually,” He found himself admitting as he gave her a small shrug in reply. “It does though. School’s important. If I could go back, I’d-” He started to say, only for his sentence to trail off as he found himself shrugging again. He would have done things differently, only he knew, even if he had, it wouldn’t have changed anything. He still would have ended up exactly where he was now because that’s where hope got him. “Anyways, those grad students probably know a lot more important things than Orion’s belt. I just spent way too much time in museums as a kid. Learned a whole lot of fun facts that don’t really amount to much of anything, unless you want to hear a tragic tale about The Pleiades. That’s right up there. Those 7 stars grouped together and may be far more fitting than you think, but I’ll tell you what. You do that and then I’ll google traits of a libra and we can compare. And sure. Let’s go see these stars move and all that,” He nodded, despite a part of him not wanting to move just yet. He knew what the fates thought of him, so he was sure that whatever it said would be less than ideal, but he also knew they had come all this way. So, they might as well, take the damn incompatibility just friends test and get it over with.

˗ˋˏ°• ✧ •°ˎˊ˗

A feeling Bea couldn’t even begin to describe bubbled up in her chest, something deep and bright that curled at the edges. It was something she wanted to hold onto. She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling too wide, she knew what was in a name, the importance of names, especially those reserved for certain people, the lines drawn in the sand to show closeness, trust. Hayashi Kaito. She was short enough, that even with him ducking his head, she could step closer, and dip her head to look up at him, “I like Kaito, if that’s alright,” she said, even though it was reserved for his brother, he offered and Bea would gladly take it, hold it close and with care. It was clear it meant a lot to him and she wasn’t about to let him down. “You know, a lot of people don’t try to pronounce Beatriz, so I’ve been Bea for a while. It’s also easier,” she said, with an understanding smile. “I’m here for the messy, whenever it comes,” she reiterated. “And not just yours, you know. We’ve all got some mess to us. But yeah, I kinda like it when it’s just the two of us anyway. The rest of the world can worry about itself.”

Bea’s shoulder instinctively inched up to her ear as Kaito whispered into it, a sharp little gasp escaped at his line of questioning. Even at the mention of her blush, her face grew hotter, and she turned to hide her face away from him. “Beaches are different, the atmosphere--” she tried to argue halfheartedly, but his teasing made it hard for her to focus, a chill running down her back at the thought of this same conversation occurring in the honesty room, where she couldn’t even avoid the truth tumbling from her own lips. She swallowed thickly as her back hit the wall of the dark room, her eyes wide as she pulled her gaze to his. The anticipation that had been gathering suddenly dissipated as he took a step back. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to find her train of thought again, “Ah, well,” she said, letting her head fall back against the wall, her eyes on the ceiling, “Just had to face some truths I wasn’t ready for. I uh, I pulled him in there though, so I really have no one to blame but myself,” she said with a forced smile. “But I think it’s probably for the better. Now we know where we stand.” Her conversation with Ken hadn’t gone the way she’d thought it would, but maybe it would make work a little easier once they got back, knowing the reasons behind his ruthless and unending pushing. 

In a past life Bea must have been someone who preformed a miracle amount of good deeds to have gotten a person like Kaito in her life. Soft, kind, and patient, she couldn’t see how anyone else wouldn’t be happy just to be in his presence. “Hey, that’s my friend you’re talking about, be nice to him,” she said, a small smile forming on her lips. It shrank once he trailed off talking about school. It wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things, in determining who was a good person, how successful a person could be, but it was important to him, and Bea regretted hitting that soft spot. “You can, if you want to. Plenty of people do. I’m just saying, measuring intelligence by that yardstick never really made a lot of sense to me. I know plenty of people who dropped out early to start helping out their parents. They never went to college either, but that didn’t mean they weren't capable and intelligent. I met people in college who basically paid thousands of dollars to take expensive naps during lectures. They didn’t sound like very smart people to me.” She sighed softly, knowing this would take more than a few careful words, but that was okay, Bea didn’t mind taking the time to reassure him, to unruffle some feathers, no matter how long that took, even if it took years. “I’m all for tragic tales, if you’ve got the time. I’d like hearing that array of information you’ve got in that head of yours, Kaito. I don’t care about mathematical theory, I’d rather have my own personal walking Met exhibit, thanks,” she gave him a playful wink and tugged him towards the “psychic” manning the compatibility booth. 

The birth charts they had to fill out were easier and far less mystical than Bea was expecting, but she diligently filled hers out and handed it over. Then came the mysticism, as the psychic hummed over their forms and nodded to herself before consulting the fates, as she called it. Bea called it a load of bull, but the stars shifting in the ceiling pulled her attention as she finally saw a constellation she recognized, Libra, then another, she was willing to guess was Scorpio. “Yes, a relationship between Libra and Scorpio can be a dark prison yard of betrayal and treachery, or it could be a relationship fit for royalty,” she said, nodding. Bea’s eyes widened, realizing a beat too late that they hadn’t mentioned they were testing their friendship. “Sexually, Libra and Scorpio make a really great match. Scorpio rules over sex and the genital area in astrology and is considered to be the most sexual sign. Paired with the romantic Libra, whose main goal is to please their partner, and you have a perfect match in the bedroom.” Bea’s face flushed a deep red and turned away so Kaito wouldn’t make fun of her again. She didn’t need a psychic to tell her about Kaito’s sex life, that was something that was... very well known, even if she didn’t have first hand experience. “Libra and Scorpio make a decent match. Scorpio will give Libra the love and attention they crave in a relationship, while Libra will bring optimism and balance to Scorpio’s life, but,” the psychic paused dramatically, before continuing, “The relationship of Libra and Scorpio is in no way easy and light. Both of these partners will have to face their dark sides through this bond, and although this can lead to an incredible and intense sex life, and emotions that no one else can understand, it might lead them both to a depressive hole they won’t easily get out of. The only way for this couple to last in a satisfying and gentle relationship, is for both partners to build a strong individual, independent life, or they will get sucked into the whirlpool of karmic emotions and obsessive, negative expectations.” The psychic’s eyes bore into Bea’s for a moment before giving Kaito the same treatment, a sudden heaviness landed on Bea’s shoulders as she swallowed thickly. “Uh, well, thanks, we’ll keep that in mind,” she said before pulling Kaito away from the booth. Maybe he was right, asking for their fates to be read might have been a bit more intense than the lighthearted activity Bea thought it would be.

The unfortunately unblessed crooner on stage was currently making Bea wish the microphone would give off more feedback so she wouldn’t have to hear their voice. She grimaced at the ungracious thought. Well, at least they had courage, she had to admit. When they finally left the stage, after a bow no less, Bea was one of the few people to applaud, though the rest of the crowd did seem to be cheering on their exit more than the performance. “Oh thank god,” she said under her breath, wincing one last time as the singer went around to sign up for another round. “They’re not going to go again, are they?”

x

“I mean, I might! I like old things.” Rohan did not know why he called back up the stairs when, in actually, he should have just run for the front doors. He shifted uncertainly in place, running through the rolodex of excuses in his mind. He pursed up his lips. Of course no one wanted this house; it was utterly and completely haunted by a whispering, pestering ghost who got some sort of sick thrill out of being mysterious and unknowable. But maybe that was the key. “I…uh, I spoke to your colleague in the front hall? Very nice gentleman. Vintage-y clothes? He told me you were in the attic and to come up and find you. Honest. We can go talk to him?” This half-lie, yelled up the stairs, felt silly as soon as he said it; normal people did not actually believe in ghosts. He could not, therefore, use the vague suggestion of one posing as a real estate agent. “My name is…uh, it’s Rohan Persaud. I’m actually, um, a playwright. Off-Off-Broadway right now. What I mean is, I’m not some rando. I’m a pretty public person with expendable income and…you know what? My manager was supposed to call your office. But they’re terribly unreliable, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t actually.” This lie felt better, and said manager would not actually allow him to get in any trouble. They’d absolutely admit to fumbling the phone exchange. “I can go. If that’s better right now.” 

˗ˋˏ°• ✧ •°ˎˊ˗

Bea paused, lowering the lamp in her hand, this house has people running out the second they stepped foot over the threshold and yet this person stood firm. Even if he’d been caught breaking and entering, shouldn’t he have run away by now if that were the case? Her eyes widened at the description of her colleague which eerily matched the description of the ghost people had reported seeing in the home. “Wait, you... you saw him? Well, I guess it’s a bonus that he’s nice,” she mumbled under her breath. Perhaps he would be kind enough to leave.

She wavered, if there was even a slight chance of selling this house, even to some obscure playwright with... interesting taste, she couldn’t let it slip through her hands. “Okay, Mr. Persaud. I’m sorry we couldn’t get in touch before the open house last weekend,” Bea said, finally placing the lamp on the floor. “I would be happy to set up--” as Bea started making her way down the staircase, a vision flooded through her mind as she placed her hand on the bannister. There was a gentleman dressed primly, groomed neatly, very dignified seconds before he tumbled down the staircase before landing at the bottom with a hollow thud. The vision cleared as Bea blinked, trying to get her bearings. “I’m sorry, I-- I was saying-- well,” Bea floundered, trying to find an excuse, but she wasn’t quite sure how long she was out.

.

“You are taking a cat from the park, that is exactly what you’re doing because I’m not going anywhere with you -” Two and two click together and Theo realises the frantic woman trying to kidnap the cat he had grown fond of over the last few weeks had named the same cat Theo. “You’ve named him Theo?” he asks, brows furrowing as he shakes his head as he looks down at the animal who seemed to not be bothered at all by all the chaos he was causing. “You’re not called Theo are you Roo, I’m Theo and you’re Roo. Rufus. Mr Roo for short.” He points at himself and then at the cat, slowing down his tone and emphasising each syllable. “Theo. Roo. Are you up to date now?” He walks closer to them, crossing his arms against his chest as he uses his height as an advantage to tower over the woman. “I think you’re lying. What is your proof that he’s your cat? Because it surely does not seem like Roo wants to go off with you.”

˗ˋˏ°• ✧ •°ˎˊ˗

Her face screwed up in confusion, why in the world would she be taking a grown man from the park? And who was he to question her naming choices? “It’s short for Theodore,” she said as way of explanation, her tone leaning possibly to the defensive. Sure it was a bit formal for a cat, but she’d never met anyone so adverse to the name. When he started addressing her cat as Roo, she instinctively pulled him closer to her chest. Theo blinked up at the mad man before rolling over in her arms, belly up. “You’re Theo?” she clarified, the puzzle pieces finally clicking into places. “He’s Theo, not Roo or Mr Roo or Rufus which, quite frankly, is more of a dog’s name,” she said judgement dripping from her words. Who was this guy, who went around naming other people’s cats?

As intimidated as Bea might have been on any other day, she had to protect Theo from this mad man, this Human Theo. Instead of shrinking away from him, she stepped forward, head tipped up despite the obvious height difference. “I don’t need to prove myself to you and Theo is about two seconds away from purring because he gets to be carried home! Which just goes to show how well you know him, you know, not at all!” her voice rose as she poked a finger to his chest, “But if you want proof so bad why don’t you look up his instagram! There are photos of him living in my condo for the last two years!” Usually she was happy to hand her phone over to show people her collection of adorable Theo photos, but she didn’t know what this guys motives were and she was pretty sure he was seconds away from grabbing Theo and running away the second she got distracted. “What proof do you have that he’s NOT my cat? Huh, Theo Thief? Are you gonna follow me home or something?”

⇌

The softest of sighs, barely audible, escaped when Bea brushed his hair making him curl into her lap more, to which Ken had to admit even for a dream sequence this was rather a high level display of vulnerability. Or maybe his subconscious craved a moment of delicateness after the brutality of recent events, of course, there was no protesting as to which he preferred, and so with a another sigh he gave in fully, falling into the gentleness and hoped if there ever was a crash that it would not be harsh. “You deserve a lot more,” he said slowly, words carrying a depth far beyond the required retort he had intended. “I have to be good.” As he expended all his energy into keeping memories from resurfacing, truth-filled words squeezed past the barriers, “Human, Vampire,” he scoffed, “It’s still the same. Had to be. Have to be. You can’t beat me, my brain won’t allow it.” It felt like a deliverance of bad news, voice quiet and full of what could only be remorse, Ken carried on, “Even if I want to, even for you, I don’t think I could.”

A laugh formed in the back of his throat at her words, only to die before it reached the surface releasing a weak huff at the effort of it all. “Yes, I did have to. I’m glad you weren’t in there.” She’d think him a monster if she had not thought it already.“ The disbelief of his actions was shared, however, doubts of if Bea had not said anything, had he not seen the mark, would the anger upon seeing Kaan be the same? Would the promise still be made? Forcefully shifting again to distract his mind from the hypotheticals, Ken rowed into more dangerous waters. In this blurry state of mind, where everything was soft around the edges, staring at her at her and the world seemed upside-down felt unlike any reality. “Don’t –” Attempts to speak again were in vain as the delicateness of her touch sent a shock through his system. Ken firmly believed a madness took over as he bore witness to his fingertips lace through hers, too deep in delusion for self-control to kick in and fix this – maybe Ren was right; his head might still be crooked. "Find a way out to where?” he found himself saying half in laughter and half in desperation, “I can’t even find a way out of this crazy dream…or am I dead?”

˗ˋˏ°• ✧ •°ˎˊ˗

Though they were no longer in the honesty room, magic forcing them to to reveal their truths, no matter how ugly or bare, Bea felt Ken’s words hit her just as hard. Even the smallest hints of kindness from Ken were a gut punch, because it let Bea know he had the capacity to be kind, but only chose to use these words when he had his defenses down, when he was nearly a puddle of bone, blood, and torn wool. She scoffed at his admittance, “Of course, can’t be anything but good, right?” Bea sighed, absentmindedly keeping his blood soaked hair from his face again and again. “Mhm, even on the brink of death you can’t stand the thought of defeat, can you?” Spite would be the one thing to pull Ken back to life time and time again, Bea was sure of it. His need for perfection and championship wouldn’t allow him to enter a grave any sooner than he decided fit. He would beat death itself.

I’m glad you weren’t in there. Bea froze. Waiting for the other foot to fall, for him to say how he would have just dragged her down if she had been there. She swallowed once he didn’t. This weekend had done a number on her head, their usual patterns were shaken, unpredictable after what they’d gone through, what he’d gone through. But his final words gave clarity to their conversation, a dream, or death. “Well, I’m not dead, so that doesn’t pan out,” she said before addressing his other theory, “And while I can dreamwalk now, I’m afraid the state of your designer suit you cared so much for is not actually the result of a nightmare. You’re awake, but I do think the near-death experience might be responsible for some of the, ah, dreamlike qualities,” she said carefully.