Bea is fiery and temperamental, even if she doesn't express her emotions very well. Said emotions still manifest intensely for her--she feels things and she feels them hard. She's fiercely loyal and once she's decided that you're important to her, you would have to do something truly heinous to shake her. She's also quite easily overwhelmed by positive emotions, so when something makes her very happy, it's not uncommon for her to cry. More often than not, negative emotions do not elicit the same response. She's grown quite used to them. On the other side of that, her inability to express herself with words when she wants to leads to frustration, as many things she has no easy words for.

While she's flexible and adaptable, there are certain things with which she's incredibly stubborn, though these things are few and usually quite easy to pinpoint. This tends to make her, despite her trust issues, quite friendly. She'll extend a amicable, if blunt, attitude to most people.

Her curiosity isn't terribly strong, but what's there is hardly tempered, as her impulse control is abhorrent. Said terrible impulse control makes her prone to stealing, though if they aren't for survival, they're most often small, shiny, and of little consequence. Bonus if they're red! Her ability to be couragous is even occasionally spurred on by inquisitiveness.

CW: This contains allusions to child sexual abuse, sexual assault, suicidal ideation, and self harm.

Early Years

Beatrix was not born into opulence. She was born to a couple on the very low end of the wealth spectrum. In their quest for blood, a nectar more intoxicating than the strongest alcohol, they traded their daughter to a hunter's workshop known as the Powder Kegs and sowing seeds of resentment as well as a fear of abandonment and a feelings of worthlessness. Not that the hunters knew what the hell they were doing... but they did what they could to care for her.

Well... some of them did.

Amongst the hunters, she was passed around to be cared for. Some, like Djura, were better caretakers. Not that Djura was perfect... but he was a far cry better than a few. See, during the time period, and with the scourge ravaging the area, there was little progress in the way of certain... rights. It was years before she would be able to fend them off herself, as the Old Blood granted them strength she lacked, being thin and gangly. She was a stringy thing, due to the diet she was forced to subsist on.

In those years, she felt little but anger, hate, and sadness. Through those, she found disgust in herself and sought to give that disgust physical form.

Teen Years

The only thing that kept her going was a promise she'd made to herself: she'd kill them. When she was 16, they found that she had some... unknown disease... or infection? No one was quite sure. It had started slow, giving her mild headaches in the right side of her head. Once it was discovered, it sped up its assault, almost as if it were sentient. As an emergency measure, she was dosed with the blood of the Healing Church. Though meant to eliminate the malady, the blood seemed only able to isolate it to where it had already ravaged--her right eye, which was now blinded completely.

Though the intent had been simply to cure her of her ailment, there was an added benefit. To her, at least. The messengers, as they were called, had taken to her, and so she'd become a hunter. While she still lacked the strength, she received a new vigor. There was a hope she had now. One that had kept her alive the past 4 years. This would be the start of her revenge. She'd been given the one tool she needed to do it, and by the gods, she would do it.

Make no mistake; it still took time, building up her strength. But after a few years, she did what she set out to do. She killed those hunters--at least the ones that hadn't already been killed from being blood addled. She had become strong enough to not only fight them off, but to best many of them in contests of strength. She was not kind about it, either. Their deaths were brutal and merciless.

While her victory didn't feel hollow, and she had taken the greatest satisfaction in her own personal justice, she was left now with no reason to continue and no way to die. Not without severing from the Hunter's Dream. Something... something she did not know how to do. And so she trudged on, even beneath the weight of Yharnam, which treated her with disdain for her status as a hunter. Even spat on her.

For a time, she found purpose in protecting Yharnam, though it was tenuous at best. The city only made her present struggles all the stronger. Her worth was determined to be nothing, even as she kept the citizens safe on nights of the hunt. It didn't matter. Yharnam didn't care. She didn't either.

Adulthood

The first thing to succumb to the scourge was her right eye, already destroyed by the very thing the blood had contained. Slowly, but surely, like many hunters before her, she went blood mad. Her workshop had lost track of her, for a time, in Old Yharnam--her own stomping grounds. It was unfortunate that it had been before the night the Powder Kegs had been bid to "cleanse" the lower part of the city. With the ashen blood sickness rampant, the scourge had spread too quickly and had been deemed uncontainable at that point, and so all they could do was raze it. Though she took a few hunters out, she was caught in the blaze, and a large portion of her right side was burned badly.

To her displeasure, she found herself waking in an old clinic down in that part of the city. It had been cordoned off after the fire, and she was understandably livid. At some point, it was made clear to her that three hunters still remained among the ashes of the region, and it took them time to regain any trust among the beastly citizens. While some still wished the trio harm, others did not, and not a single one of the three retaliated against the beasts. In time, they even managed to inadvertently coax the old Beatrix back out above her primal ferocity. It was unfortunate that one still went mad, himself, though he harmed not a single beast in the fight. Djura and his ally dispatched him, and then only two remained to protect this skeleton that was once a town.

Though at the end of full moons, she often reverts back to her human phase, there are nights where she ends up far furrier than she ever wished. But... it's something.

Everything continued like this for a time, until she'd been grabbed by the hand of an unseen Great One and crushed. It was only by her thievish nature and draw to shiny things that she held on to something--a shiny, black, jagged hook that had smaller spikes coming from it like hairs (she'd called it a petrified spider's leg)--that would keep her from dying, but also from returning. She was whisked away to the Realm, where she began a fresh hell cycle of life and death to feed another--one that was called the Entity by its inhabitants.

Current

After a time of repeatedly being killed in this realm, a game devised by this Entity to induce feelings such as fear and hope for they're own consumption, she deduced this being was another of the Great Ones. Convinced of this, Bea knew there would be a way to kill them, they simply needed to get to them. This proved simple enough, even if the actual killing was not. Beatrix not only reverted to her beasthood form and nature, but nearly died. Were it not for another hunter that had arrived as well, she most certainly would have. And were it not for a man she'd met in the realm, who had coaxed her back from the depths of vicious primal behaviors and instincts, she most certainly would have been killed once this Entity was dead.

Now free of the realm, she attempts to adjust to living in a very normal world, though she spends most of it hidden in an abandoned off-the-grid home in the middle of nowhere. The time surrounding the full moons brought violently shifting moods. This was bittersweet, for if she had become bestial, the day after the full moon itself, she would be returned to her human phase. Blood moons, as they did for her in Yharnam, would induce this two, maybe even threefold, and ran the risk of her bestial nature realizing its potential in becoming a Cleric Beast.

• PARENT[S]: N/A
• EDUCATION: Never received a proper education
• She has an adoration of tarts, as they were a special treat she got on her birthday in a time where there was little variety in her diet, which was comprised primarily of pork products.
• There is a 50/50 chance that, upon seeing fire, she will either cower or become incredibly aggressive.
• Bea is a good artist, despite the fact that she holds writing utensils all kinds of wrong. She's learning, though, so give her some time. She'll get it.
• She's very tactile.
• Her burn scars are insensitive to pressure but very sensitive to temperature.