Hilaire Thibault

## **Appearance**

Hilaire is 6’ tall, with a lean athletic build, dark hair and eyes. When he arrives in Wall, his hair will be cut short, but that will last only as long as it takes for the hair to grow out to a length he prefers. He always intends to be clean-shaven, but there are so many distractions to be found in life, it is not uncommon that five o’clock shadow gets ahead of him.

He favors jewel tones and luxurious fabrics that soften the severe lines and sharp tailoring of Clovennian suits, and has a fondness for well-fitted vests. Lose the suit jacket and tie, roll up the shirtsleeves to mid-forearm, and leave the shirt collar unbuttoned - even better.

Growing up Clovennian, Hilaire has had to learn to keep his emotions off his face and out of warm eyes, and he is, for the most part, good at it. That said, he has been in Aurelle for six years, and with non-Cloves he is rarely as guarded as he “should be,” and he smiles more easily and often than many people would expect. His mind works so quickly, and pulled in so many different directions, he may often look as though he is far away - whether he is actually paying close attention or not - and when his curiosity is piqued, the hunter’s gleam in his eyes is very similar to that of a cat that has spotted its prey.

## **Powers**

Hilaire is a shifter, almost as comfortable as the patent leather kitty with copper penny eyes of a cat as he is in his human skin. Only almost, because it’s hard to write with paws. There are a few other things he would miss as well. In normal circumstances, Hilaire can shift easily into and out of his feline form. He can maintain it for a maximum of about twelve hours, keeping his clothing or small items he carries, but will be exhausted by frequent shifts or when shifting back after pushing the limits of how long he can remain a cat. Like most cats, in his shifted form, Hilaire is nearsighted and has greater difficulty seeing in bright light, he occasionally has breathing difficulties thanks to the breed’s shortish nose, and hairballs are no one’s idea of fun.

## **Talents**

First and foremost, Hilaire is a scholar. One of his first and greatest lessons was learning how to learn. With the equivalent of a doctorate in philosophy and working toward another in history, he excels at logic, research, and compiling and categorizing source materials. Unofficially while at Créche and more formally at the Academy, he tutored other students in a variety of subjects, and he is good at breaking concepts down into consumable pieces, and would make a good teacher.

For fun, he likes anything that keeps his mind occupied, so playing chess, dominoes, and cards, and not only solving but creating crossword and logic puzzles are skills he has developed. Every Clovennian gentleman is expected to be able to ride and to dance, and Hilaire does both well. He also studied fencing, but has rarely picked up a foil since his Academy days.

## **Interests**

Books - everything from barely comprehensible academic tomes to the latest cheap detective novel or scandalous erotica, if there is a book within reach, Hilaire is probably going to read it. Puzzles and games, anything that keeps his mind engaged. Learning, especially within the humanities (except current politics, he will leave that to his brother, thank you). Jazz music and dancing. Museums. The theatre. Lazing in sunbeams. Cats. Good food and drink.

First and above all, pleasure, in its many and varied forms.

## **History**

There has been a Thibault in the Upper House for almost as long as there has been a Senate. Everyone knows of The Thibaults. Unfortunately, Alexandre Thibault was the only child of a minor branch of the family – a Thibault, if you will – that had fallen on, if not hard, at the very least strained times. His parents made no secret of their intentions he marry well, where ‘well’ meant to someone with money. Nouveau riche would be better than someone who could only bring a name and social status to the pairing. He was at least fortunate enough that his marriage to Helene de Lille, the daughter of a wealthy textile manufacturer, blossomed into a caring partnership in time.

An inherited heart condition left Helene with a ‘delicate constitution’ and life in Belailles often became too much for her. Even after their marriage she often spent months at a time in her father’s estate in Trondes, far from the capital. It was during one very extended stay in Trondes, accompanied by their daughter Elodie, who had recently left Creche after her eighth year, that Alexandre and Helene announced the birth of twin sons: Hilaire and Jocelyn.

Hilaire was too young to remember the day big sister Elodie tempted her two year old brothers to the edge of, and in Hilaire’s case, over, a balcony in their Belailles home thankfully to be caught by the quick reaction of their telekinetic nursemaid. (Hilaire subconsciously picked up on his mother’s nervousness whenever either twin got near a height or potential drop after this incident, which was the seed of his acrophobia.) It was at that point, the Thibaults moved full time to Trondes. The secrecy surrounding their sudden departure fueled rumor and speculation: that the twins were not, in fact, Helene’s children, but Elodie’s; that Elodie was mad; that Alexandre had fled before certain ‘irregularities’ could come to light. Never anything more than speculation, there was no evidence for any of the ideas battered around, but when did a lack of evidence ever stop gossip?

When the twins were old enough to enter the Creche, though, Helene and their maternal grandfather both insisted they have the best opportunities possible. Hilaire really was far too bright for a small town, and it would never do to separate the twins. So devoted to each other, they were, mirror images physically with such opposite personalities they provided a necessary balance to each other. Only the Creche in Belailles would do, and so the boys were sent back to the capital city to get their education. Jocelyn was the outgoing one with Big Plans, who made friends and rivals both with ease. Hilaire had his nose in a book or was following after one teacher or another with a million questions, one after another. But his kindness shone through, and while his circle was much smaller than his brother’s, he developed more lasting friendships with those who took the time to get to know him.

Hilaire was nine the first time he shifted, running from a teacher after one of his brother’s pranks went wrong, tripping and suddenly finding himself a black kitten toppling head over tail before scurrying up a tree. Not being able to get down triggered his shift back to human, and in his panic he fell out of the tree in a tangle of limbs, including – ouch – a broken arm. He spent many nights after that in feline form curled up on his brother’s pillow or the crook behind his knees, and to this day is unaware just how much merely human Jocelyn envies his shifter status.

After Creche, the twins were accepted at different Academies, but remained close. Hilaire studied history and philosophy, and when his studies were completed, he was offered a faculty position. But he was so very tired of the constraints of pure academia, and his curiosity was piqued by the ongoing unrest in Aurelle. What better subject of study than a culture being brought into the modern era through the experience and guidance of a more advanced society? It was fascinating. And knowledge which should be preserved before it was forgotten. Hopefully, he would even decide on a subject for a dissertation proposal for the history doctorate he wanted to go back for eventually. (The trick was narrowing it down to one subject he would want to see through to the end.) At least that was how Hilaire presented the idea to his brother, his family, and his mentors. Mostly he was simply curious, wanting to know more about Aurelle, its culture and inhabitants.

Castyll was already showing Clovennian influence Hilaire believed would be detrimental to his research. A smaller town, a village even, would provide a microcosm, a purer sample for study. The census, and its need for Clovennians to oversee the records, provided him with an almost perfect opportunity. Yes, it meant taking a job as clerk, which was somewhat beneath him, but it was only Jocelyn who cared about that, and Hilaire brushed off his concerns as inconsequential in the search for knowledge. It was only a job. Hilaire’s work was and is his research, the papers he has written, the books still in progress, the scholarship he is collecting for future generations.

Hilaire has been in Glynn for six years now, six mostly happy years. The Aurellian approach to life suits him far better than Belailles ever could. There have been dark spots, though. The recent influx of Clovennians less open-minded than himself, and their disruption of life in the village. Faidoux, and his continuing dislike for the part he plays. How even after six years, many in the village look on him with (justifiable) suspicion or worse. But there are joys here as well, and spreading that joy and pleasure, arguing in support of it through his work, those are things he can do to help, and he has chosen to focus on that.

Things have been getting more… complicated in Glynn. A new, Clovennian marshall who took a harsher stance on policing Glynn, especially its Aurellian citizens. Terrorists blew up the railroad, cutting off Glynn for some time, which led to the discovery that Faidoux was addictive, as though the drug wasn’t torture enough. The Aurellian church enacted an entertainment tax, in theory to build up the country’s coffers through the wallets of the Cloves coming to the area, but that in practice harms the Aurellians who provide those entertainments (including musicians and bedmates, who are some of his favorites).

Then there was a message from home. His mother’s doctors believed her end of life was near, and Hilaire was called back to Clovenne and the family home in Trondes. In small favors, the railroad had been repaired days before, so the travel was quicker and easier than it would have been by carriage. Also fortunately, Hilaire was able to spend a few days at her bedside before she passed.

Then there was the funeral, matters of inheritance, time spent in private grieving with his father and brother. It all took time. It also gave Hilaire the space to think about what he wanted in his life. He returned to Belailles with Jocelyn, had many meetings and discussions with his mentors at the Academy, and resigned his position as Records Clerk to focus more specifically on his research. His research in Glynn, on Aurelle’s history and culture. The Aurellians believed all things were transient, and Hilaire could see that, but all the more reason for these things to be documented before Clovennian influence erased it all.

Almost exactly two months after his rush to his mother’s bedside, Hilaire is finally ready to return to Glynn. Jocelyn accompanies him to the station, and they are just looking for a porter to see Hilaire’s trunk and case onto the train, when suddenly there is no train nor station, no porter nor twin. Instead Hilaire finds himself outside the village of Wall.