Special thanks go to Petrina for this
wonderful character concept. Inspired by a dream Petrina had, all her
fabulously detailed input made writing Bea’s interview a breeze! (I guess that
should be a sea breeze? :P)
Standing at a lofty 6ft 5in tall, Beatrix is
an attractive and highly knowledgeable woman. One could be forgiven for
mistakenly thinking she possesses wisdom beyond her years since despite being
over a century old her countenance remains fresh and she appears to be more
spry than most of the thirty year-olds in our office. In fact our female
employees enviously decide that living on a glacier means Bea’s face got frozen
in time and refuse to admit that they wish the same fate applied to their
far-less-than-a-century-old wrinkles.
As consolation they point out that whilst Bea
may have a stunningly young face she does have thunderously wide hips and
carries an unflattering amount of weight on her lower half. They also note that
her off-white fur is somewhat grubby and whilst her gnarled yellowing nails
might be good for snagging a handful of fish they are in desperate need of a
manicure. The men in the office remain mysteriously quiet during this
‘discussion’ whilst Beatrix simply sits and patiently listens to their snipes
with a wizened smile in her glittering eyes.
We later learn this was probably because
Beatrix dislikes sharing her thoughts if she feels her remarks are unsolicited.
That and the fact that being a half-anthropomorphic polar bear, Beatrix
naturally possesses a whole host of superior talents, including sharp eyesight,
an inborn ability in the water, above average physical strength and stamina,
keen ears and an acute sense of smell which she confesses isn’t always a
blessing particularly when the local harbour has an overflow of rotten fish.
A modest soul, there is nothing needy about
Beatrix, she clearly savours every interaction during the interview but is
never cloying or clingy. Her attitude is perhaps much like her attire; uncomplicated
and inexpensive, designed for function over fashion with one exception: the
jewel that adorns her neck is instantly recognisable, a sizeable and
particular-cut sapphire known as ‘star of the north.’ Earning tenure of this
gem is no easy task, it symbolises that Beatrix is currently appointed guardian
and guide of her northern homeland.
A fantastic listener Bea is a slow and steady
thinker; irrefutably considerate she weighs all factors of a situation before
reaching a conclusion and despite her swathes of experience never presumes to
have all the answers. If there’s one thing that she ardently believes it’s that
‘there is always something more to learn.’
She never actively seeks the company of others
but instead allows them to come to her. She knows that people must move in
their own patterns and considers their transitions as rhythmic as the flow of
the tide. Happily her counsel is often sought. Familiar friends and new
acquaintances alike know of her wisdom and that she can be found most days atop
Auspoint rock, dreaming and watching the world go by.
Ever-attentive she tries to always be
genuinely engaged when conversing, however much to her disdain she sometimes
finds the lure of the sea too powerful and drifts off into fantasies of
watching the waves and melding with the universe. She is devastated when this
happens and apologises profusely when she thinks she has given the impression
that she wasn’t paying attention.
Being alone is never troublesome to Beatrix as
she uses the solitude to allow her thoughts to drift free until she feels
unified with the swirling echoes of the sea and can feel every particle of the
salt-tinged breeze running through her hair. Bea is most passionate about water and ice, especially
as when the world stands frozen still it provides her with a cool and
reflective space for contemplation. She relates that she can think of nothing
better than being warmly wrapped in cold weather, steam rising from her wet
nose and breath freezing as a cloud of shimmering droplets in the frigid ether.
She expresses too that when the ocean is warmer and glassy how she loves the
fact that she can look down into the sky and simultaneously witnesses all the
colours above and below as though the world is unending. Then lastly she tells
us with glee that when the water moves she knows it is the glint of her
favourite snack; teeming shoals of tiny, slippery, and crunchy little fish.
When asked about work Beatrix describes
herself as currently ‘beyond profession,’ which we assume is a convoluted way
of saying, ‘retired.’ As you might expect Beatrix has had many jobs in her
lifetime ranging from a jinxed ships skivvy, to wayward lighthouse keeper, to a
cartographer and local marine life specialist before finally settling down to
open a restaurant and illustrate a recipe book with her own form ‘Gyotaku.’ Now
‘Gyotaku’ was a new one on us so to clarify it is a form, ‘fish slapping’ art.
Yes literally painting one side of a fish or other crustacean and slapping said
(presumably deceased) sea life against a bit of equally dead driftwood or bark
and then admiring the inky results, yum.
Of her less disgusting hobbies
Beatrix professes to enjoy sand sculpting and rock painting, gazing at the sea,
swimming, sitting on a sun-baked rock and dipping her toes into warm rock
pools.
Whilst many goals have come and gone
in Beatrix’s lifetime, she claims that she finally feels free of such
diversions. Bea states that if the years have taught her anything it’s that
‘whatever we busy ourselves with, the sun keeps rising each morning, the tide
will always come in, the big fish still chase the little fish and people will
always have questions.’ Somehow all these constants appear to converge right
where she sits. So she waits atop Auspoint rock and everything that gives her
joy presents itself to her. She credits the place itself for ‘lending an
intense sense of insight and comfort,’ a serene contentment in knowing that it
is exactly where she’s meant to be.
Bea doesn’t seem to have any
particular self-opinion, which whilst it’s refreshing to speak to a
non-narcissist it is also strange to hear someone reflect that they find the
word, ‘self’ peculiar. She explains that her gaze is so often focused on the
incoming waves, or the deeper ocean (we imagine she’s just eyeing up tell-tale
splashes of those fish she keeps harping on about), or way out to the horizon
her awareness of ‘self’ extends far beyond her physical body. We suppose that makes sense, as a detached,
floaty, ‘everything is one,’ kind of truism.
