BAYNHAM, Caden

[caden baynham]

caden awstin baynham

name: Birthe!
age: 24 (technically, 23, but it's only a month away!)
gender: female
writing experience: seven years RP-ing, writing since I learned how.
how’d you find us?: Pamela!
a favorite book: An Imaginary Life - David Malouf. Gorgeous.
other character(s): None!


name: Caden Awstin Baynham
age: Twenty-one years old.
citizen? upper or lower schooling?: Upper schooling.
previous residence: Born in Gwynedd, Wales, lived for some years in Paris, France.
eye color: Blue.
hair color: Dark brown.
height: 5'11.
distinguishing features: A two inch scar on his left ankle, mostly faded, after a childhood accident, and a tattoo of a white rabbit on his right inner arm, just below the elbow.


four good personality traits

four bad personality traits

three quirks

important people

history

The first years of Caden's life were lived in a whisper. He was a welcome addition in his parents' lives; the little life that consolidated their union, that made their modest-sized home stir with life and gently expressed joy. They were recluses, the Baynham family, having settled in their comfortable cottage in the Welsh countryside after Romney's second novel was released, and proved to be as much of a people-pleaser as the first. Isolde had taken to using his name, though they weren't yet formally married; that came later, after she had turned thirty and he had turned thirty-two, they had produced all the children they would produce together, and he had released his third book. When Caden came around, Romney was already working on it, and while Isolde struggled with difficulties and pains post-delivery, he looked after his small son where he slept in his crib, lulled into his childish dream world by the hasty clicking of a typewriter's keys. He wasn't a difficult child, far from it, and didn't invoke a change in lifestyle for the private couple, as they had already moved away from the hustle and bustle of city streets to seek the quiet and solitude of this home, comfortably situated outside a small town, shielded behind a wall of tall trees, encased by the fence Isolde had put up. When she was recovered from the pains of giving birth and the problems that followed this, it was she who would travel outside the clearing and venture into town to give piano lessons to the local children, while Caden and Romney stayed at home, ensconced in their simple, quiet life, which was only sometimes broken by the loud wailing of a child in growth.

Caden was too young to understand the extent of the situation when his sisters came along some time after his second birthday, but was old enough to find fascination in the two living dolls that were placed gently inside a twin-crib and rocked to sleep by their attentive mother, who was not troubled now like she had been after Caden's birth. Caden would still spend most his time on Romney’s lap, watching the little lives with skepticism and glee, but when his mother returned to her duties in town, he would more and more often experience the sensation of being set aside when one of the little ones wept, so his father could attend to her, instead, or to them both. Caden was quiet and mild, even at that age, and though he tried to break the china and scream at the wall for his parents' full attention, he learned quickly that the girls could out-scream him any day, and his parents cared little for broken plates. His childish curiosity was left to bloom, and he explored the area within his mother's fences, went on treasure hunts inside the house after his father had read bed time stories about pirates and ships, and played on his mother's piano, despite her direct instructions not to go near it when she was not around. When she came home, she would take him up onto her lap and play for him while Romney prepared the family's supper and managed the little girls at once - ever the multi-tasker, while mother and son played the ivories and never offered to help.

He was ring-bearer at his parents' wedding, and two months later, his father left their home to go on tour. His third book was released, and followed in the footprints of the previous two: Raving reviews, immediate success. They boasted his genius, but Caden and his sisters were oblivious, and only noted the absence of a father. For the first two weeks, he'd ask every morning, midday and evening when his father was coming home, but as time wore by, he asked less and less, and accepted, though he was never satisfied, that his father was gone for now, to return at an undisclosed time. Life went on in the little house, and his mother's sister came to live with them, to help with the children and the household. Anwyn was louder than Isolde, and her smile came easier. The girls took to her easily, and Caden liked her well enough, but confessed to his mother that he'd prefer to have Romney back. He spent more time on her lap, listening to the sounds of the piano, and she began to teach him, little by little, what this note was called and that. The lessons kept him occupied, and were relaxed and fun for now, and time moved more quickly when they played. Eventually, the necessary time had passed, and Romney came home through the gate and greeted his three children again. Anwyn moved back to her own home, but would come and visit them, most weekends, and sometimes on Wednesdays, if she decided she had time and the energy to make the trip.

The situation grew more serious after that. Caden grew, quickly, and as his size increased, his mother's lessons became longer and more demanding, and soon proved to be mandatory. Truth be told, Caden hated the lessons at first, but developed a strong urge to make his mother proud, to see her glow like their aunt would, sometimes, as though all was right with the world. The lessons were accompanied soon by school in town, where he was suddenly surrounded by other children. His parents' hermit lifestyle was deeply ingrained in him already, but with the gentle nudging of attentive teachers and curious pupils, he emerged slowly as a more personable creature, and began to delight in the company of others. For the most part, he did what his friends said, followed them everywhere, curious and adventurous, though he was quiet and mild-tempered in class and with his teachers. His sisters followed him into the small school two years later, and made a grander splash than Caden ever had, already louder, already more boisterous, influenced by their aunt's vivid laughter and bright smiles. He announced himself their guardian, but realized that they were more than capable of caring for themselves, and so he decided he'd only be their supporter, and offer his services if they were in need.

He grew quickly, after that, growing louder and more confident with every passing day, and developing something of a boyish charm that his mother swore he had from his father. They became more connected to the little town through the three children's explorations in school and increasing demands to be where the rest of life was, where there were people. Not so much hermits, anymore, but Caden realized as he grew how people would sometimes look at his father, expecting greatness from the mild and introverted man, who would mumble his words and swallow his syllables, and invoke disappointment in his fellow man when he failed to live up to their expectations of the well-spoken, confident man they had fashioned in their minds. He resented them for it, and adored his father, who would always smile to his son and daughters, and never reveal his difficulties in dealing with their neighbours. But he became quieter, darker with the years, and retreated into himself, slowly. Eventually, even Isolde found it difficult to reach him, and one day, he was nowhere to be found. Physically, he was missing, having risen before anyone else and ventured into the world, and was not seen that entire day. A thirteen-year-old Caden held his mother's hand as she stared out the window at the little gravel pathway leading away from their cottage, expecting him to come home, but night fell, and no Romney came. They were left waiting again, like they had waited those many years ago, when his third book was released. Three days later, someone came down that pathway, but rather than Romney, representatives from the police department came to their door and delivered the news to his sunken mother. He stood in the doorway and saw his mother's heart break when they delivered the news that they had found him, in the lake, drowned, and moments later, felt his own heart do the same.

Anwyn moved back into the cottage. Even with the life of the woman filling every inch of the modest space, the death of their father was the heaviest aspect of living for months. Their mother seemed in a haze, his sisters seemed in a craze, madly mourning their father while Isolde simply forgot to live, almost seemed to forget to breathe. Caden watched, only watched, and kept silent. For two months, he barely spoke, and with his silence, resentment grew, towards his father, towards this life, towards his neighbours, towards the world. Slowly, he began to take over the tasks that had belonged to his father; he prepared meals (he burned every one for the longest time), watered the plants (they drowned, eventually, but Anwyn threw them out and brought new ones into the house), cleaned and tidied (there were dust bunnies everywhere, which Anwyn removed behind his back), and he began to settle again, feeling along with his growing resentment that balance was being restored, somehow. His sisters seemed to feel it, too, and calmed enough to start smiling again, laughing again, living again. His mother was still in a haze, the keys on the piano gathering dust, her lessons with Caden paused, until he decided to assume those duties, as well. He began to play each day, and Anwyn stepped up where she'd formerly stepped back, assuming the duties of cleaning and tidying the house and watering the plants, but leaving the meals still to Caden, aware that the recovery was not complete. It might never be complete. They reshaped the balance, and the sight of it slowly brought Isolde out of her haze, until she stood again by Caden's side at the piano and gave instructions, and one day, instructed them to pack their belongings. They would move.

In her haze, she had decided that the house was holding them back. Two years had passed since her husband's death when the cottage was abandoned, along with the country, and all five of them relocated to Paris, France. They were all changed, their family more different than they were willing to admit, but they were balanced again, even in this strange, new environment. Having a moderate grasp of the country's native language helped them along, and they adapted to their new lifestyle, and emerged with different roles. Winifred and Lynessa, playful and rebellious; Isolde, the sharp-tongued mistress; Anwyn, the warmth and life; and Caden, the disenchanted. He was enrolled in the lower levels of schooling at Academie d'Ouvrard, but school seemed to him pointless. He endured because his mother demanded it of him, but with little willingness, and frequent disagreements with teachers that would rather he try a little harder, pay attention, be respectful, stop talking back, give a damn. He refused their every request, and they had little patience for the hardened boy who became more hardened with every day that passed. But his mother was watching, demanding a certain standard from his work and in his grades, and his results remained acceptable, perhaps even good, occasionally outstanding, but it reflected his lack of effort more than it did his ability. His mother usually didn't comment, content with the not-as-good-as-they-could-be results as long as his skills on the piano were evolving, and as long as he was witty. His intentions were never to carry on with schooling, and as soon as the lower levels were completed and his mother's demands were met - barely - he found work at a local piano bar, where he'd play vibrant jazz into the late evenings, when the smoke grew heavy and requests were made for gentle ballads.

He had overestimated his ability to be apathetic. Though he every day sank deeper into a state of indifference about the world around him, he couldn't stop caring entirely about his own, and while his work at the piano bar was soothing, even satisfactory, for a while, it eventually grew dull. His life was repetition; it revolved around his family during the day, and caring for the sisters that were doing everything he hadn't done in school - succeeding, making an effort, getting involved - and the mother who extended frequent scoffs over his chosen lifestyle, and around the repetition of musical pieces during the night, played for an audience who rarely listened, and hardly cared. Even he hardly cared if he missed a note or forgot the conclusion and reworked it into something else, and despite his indifference, despite his urge to feel nothing at this point in his life, he grew weary of apathy and required action. He only took two years away from the school before returning to its halls to pursue upper schooling, and thus did exactly as his mother wished. He barely got back in, but got in, nonetheless, and enjoyed the change of pace. His efforts were slightly increased since his last bout in the school, but focused rather on shielding himself from boredom than on doing well and achieving results that would benefit him in life. Without a dream or hope for the future, he made what little effort he could muster, and enjoyed school time as a break from time at his family home and work time - but refusing to leave the night-time job that he had come to strongly dislike.

if you could be anywhere, where would you be? "Siberia. I trust that there, at least, I'll be spared the indignity of questions concerning hypothetical location changes."

character’s play-by: Ian Somerhalder.

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[headmaster.]

allegmagne
arcséne
ruby briley, ethan richardson, elise rousseau
{i love how intricate and beautiful his history is!!}