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Post by demikara on Dec 24, 2019 21:11:29 GMT -6
It hadn't been a summon. That at least was good news. It hadn't been a summons to the court, but it had been a very firm note. And he wasn't exactly curious about what would happen if he said no to said note. So Brandon had come to the court to see his aunt, knowing he was in serious trouble and not quite knowing why. And he wasn't certain he wanted to know, but was certain he was about to find out.
Either way, he really hoped he was in trouble with his aunt and not with the king. Both could be scary, but one of them was significantly less likely to do permanent harm than the other one was. He still didn't know what he had done.
Something bad enough to see la principessa and not Aunt Catherine who really could have just called. He answered the phone, so long as he wasn't covered in clay, and returned phone calls when he got a chance if he didn't pick up right away. Brandon was really dreading this, but he still made his way to her office and knocked on the door, reaching out mentally to speak.
'Aunt Catherine? I'm here.'
He was ready for the lecture he was going to receive, though he didn't know what it was on.
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Post by Circe on Dec 24, 2019 22:35:13 GMT -6
There was no response, and instead one of the court pages opened the door to the office instead. Catherine was trying to observe the strict traditional court protocols that Grigore had demanded, but despite her upbringing among the fae they still chaffed.
The note she had sent Brandon had been sternly worded, but it had also held an undercurrent of anger and disappointment. This was uncommon when it came to her relationship with Brandon. He was as much her child as Mary was and Emily had been. But once she had found out exactly what he did for the court and that Tyrus had been party in hiding it, she was furious with both of them.
While in some ways she blamed her own naivety and ignorance, she also knew that there were better ways of dealing with the situation other than allowing Brandon's murderous habits to be fed.
This entire situation had forced her to take time away from MCU, where as far as she was concerned there was more of a need of her time there.
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Post by demikara on Dec 26, 2019 10:20:59 GMT -6
No response. That meant bigger trouble than he thought. This was going to suck on so many levels. The vampire stepped inside and swallowed, then stepped forward to the desk. "La Principessa?" This was not his aunt. This was la principessa. And he was fairly certain that la principessa was angry with him. The real question was what was she angry about. He couldn't think of anything he had done which would upset the court. He mostly lived a quiet life and the only time that he really interacted with the court was when it came to cleaning up a mess.
Oh no.
Aunt Catherine hadn't known about his services to the court. It was a necessity that he keep it very quiet. Body disposal had to be done discretely and he was really very good at it and brought in money for the court by running the service he did. Somehow, he had a feeling his aunt had found out. And if she found that out, there was every chance that she had found out about his extracurricular he used to keep the edge off. He was a vampire now. Sometimes, vampires killed. It was a way of life and so long as he stayed low profile in his victim choice, there was usually little to no fuss.
But his aunt was not going to see it that way at all.
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Post by Circe on Dec 28, 2019 23:50:50 GMT -6
Once Catherine had found out precisely the nature of Brandon's role within the court, she found herself wondering if this was truly the life she wanted or if she was even fit for her role as la principessa, and Grigore's heir apparent to the entirety of the unseen world. The man who had raised her and who she had for so much time called father, had never exactly presented her as his heir, it was just assumed that she would take whatever the role it was she had been trained for. But that was beside the point, she had allowed herself to be entirely too naive about this boy that had grown into the man her nephew now was. As far as she was concerned, he was spoiled and perhaps had had them all fooled from the start.
Sitting behind the large desk, Catherine didn't bother to greet Brandon. She knew that her words bore weight and power, but at the same time found herself loathe to even use such things. "Explain yourself." Were the only words she could manage to utter in the face of one of the children whom previously she would have done anything for. Catherine knew that they walked a fine line with the court's existence and their need for food, but to her this was beyond what she would have ever condoned. It had left her heart slowly shattering into a thousand pieces, each as sharp and as painful as the last.
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Post by demikara on Dec 29, 2019 17:42:28 GMT -6
He flinched, a full body movement. "I...I'm going to assume you found out about my...my compulsion." She looked upset. "And, um, definitely about my um, position in the court." They were tied together inexorably, one entwined with the other to the point where he didn't know where one began and the other ended. He wished he was wrong, but doubted that was the case at all. He hesitated as he tried to think how to word it. "I try not to. I slip, sometimes. One or twice a year. But I try not to." He tried so hard not to give in. "The meds...I was on meds, as a human, to help. After...after they took you away, I saw a psychiatrist. It helped. But the meds don't work on vampires." He was ill. He knew he was ill, that he shouldn't give in, that what he did was wrong.
"I see a therapist. That helps too. She's mundane but helpful, at least." Not perfect, but helpful. "I think, when I was taken as a kid, something in me broke. And because that something broke, sometimes I have feed this monster. I go as long as I can not. My work with the court is distasteful but it helps." His casualty count had gone down a lot with the work given to him. "I think it's the magic. I don't know. It's not like I have anyone I can ask questions for on that. But the body disposal helps, and it...it brings in revenue too. For the court. I'm paid well for it. It's the only thing really keeping Visual Eyes afloat some months. Art shops aren't exactly...they don't really make money."
He did so many things to help. Pottery helped, so did art in general. The body disposal helped. He tried his hardest to not used the magic he was cursed with. He kept it under control, under lock and key, until the pressure just...broke the lock. "The previous Ra trained me in body disposal. Selling organs on the black market, primarily. What's left is dealt with in other ways." There was no delicately speaking about this, despite how he tried. "I was only allowed freedom if I did that. The agreement continued with King Grigore. Freedom, for the price of the work I do." Or relative freedom, at least.
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Post by Circe on Dec 30, 2019 18:24:03 GMT -6
Catherine's face was a mask of careful indifference, a tactic she'd long since mastered in the fae courts, and perfected within the Dragon Court. Sheilding her thoughts, her mind, and emotions from the world at large was her best defense mechanism when faced with a situation like the current one. "I know what you do for the court Bertrando." She replied evenly. Her quick mastery of the native tongue of the Florentine Court that their own court originated from left questions about how many languages the princess actually spoke. If only because Catherine was largely a secretive individual and distrustful of most if not everyone she met, revealing very little about herself, even to those close to her.
"I am asking that you explain why there is an average of 2 to 3 whole discrepancies per year." One of the first things she had done was look at just how the court kept itself supplied, and given that the hand off from the previous court had left questions about the legality of their food sources and Catherine damn sure wasn't going to do anything that might be them at further risk. "You of all people should know that we are not so priviledged that we would escape scrutiny should this be found out."
She was seething with a white hot anger that boiled just below the calm and collected exterior. How could he have done this to her? Catherine had done everything she possibly could to given him a good life, a safe life. She hadn't even cared about the necromancy, knowing that often times an individual had little choice in the magic they were gifted with. Instead, she had sought out someone to teach him control and help him where she couldn't.
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Post by demikara on Dec 30, 2019 18:30:00 GMT -6
She was using his formal title. Brandon closed his eyes and swallowed. "La Principessa...There is little I can say. There is no excuse for what I do." And he knew it. "You would be right to turn me in." And he well knew it. And he'd accept it if she did. At least in Broadmoore he wouldn't hurt anyone ever again. "I am ill, la principessa. I have cause to believe it is a side effect from the people who kidnapped me, as a child." He met her gaze, trying to make it clear how painfully honest he was being.
"I am the cause of the discrepancies. It is a compulsion I cannot explain. It satisfies my magic to do such an act." And it eased an itch he didn't understand. "I submit myself for punishment." He wasn't going to fight this. He had been killing people he should never have touched. He didn't know how to stop the killing or how to handle the compulsion.
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Post by Circe on Dec 30, 2019 19:06:14 GMT -6
He had as much as admitted her worst fears and that he believed he was irredeemable. "I am well aware of your illness, Bertrando." She remarked, her voice taut.
The question now would be what was the court to do with him? Her sire and father Grigoire was content to allow her nephew to continue with his murderous ways, but Catherine was meant to be the balancing force to the new Ra's desire to continue with ancient ways. Tempering the old with the new, and at times encouraging the new to see the wisdom of the old. However, if Brandon was allowed to continue it would put their entire court at risk even more than whatever insanity Cedar Ridge had planned.
Closing her eyes and turning her face from him in an effort to regain her composure before continuing. 'Gods above and below what have I done to deserve this hell...' Catherine thought to herself. There was too much that she was to be held accountable for, the the courts, with MCU, and even personally. It often led her to wonder what would have happened had she not been saved from whatever her village had planned to do with her. It wasn't something she often found herself willingly dwelling on, and instead made it the furthest thing from her mind to the point of non-existence. Avoidance was a tactic Catherine had grown very well versed in.
"If you submit to punishment, then you will submit to a trial by the ordeal of fire. Should you survive..." She faltered. Catherine's voice had taken a brittle and stressed tone, clearly this was not something she had ever imagined having to do. "This will not prove your innocence but instead absolve you before the Court for the unnecessary risks you put us to. You will also seek treatment for your complusions from a non-mundane provider, I do not care if that means you must be bound or whatever else. You will find a way to put an end to these things."
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Post by demikara on Dec 30, 2019 19:13:27 GMT -6
The ordeal of fire. If he survived. He wondered if he wanted to survive at all. "Yes, your highness." If he survived, he'd find a way. If he chose to survive at all. That would be the question, wouldn't it? His death would certainly simplify the matter entirely. "I'll get everything in order in case I don't." If he chose not to. He had broken something in her though, he could tell, and shame filled him more for that than for the lives he claimed.
There was no proving his innocence. He admitted his guilt. But if this would absolve him in the eyes of the court, in her eyes, he'd do it.
He had prayed she'd never find out. That she had was disheartening.
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Post by Circe on Dec 30, 2019 19:27:11 GMT -6
Catherine just nodded, as she took the moment to steel herself and harden her heart against further injury. Perhaps Grigoire had been right, she was too soft and too sympathetic or feeling when it came to these matters. It was amazing she had even survived as long as she had, and that was perhaps only thanks to pure dumb luck. "See that you survive, you're dismissed Bertrando." She informed him flatly.
The necromancer was an invaluable asset to the court, the previous rulers had seen that long before she had ever had the clarity to do so. Catherine however, had absolutely no desire to see him perish in the bowels of the greedy flames she would be forced to summon, but the code of the court was clear; anything that put them or lives of the rest of the court at risk was to be delt with swiftly.
All she could do was pray that the magic would see that Brandon had already confessed his guilt and be lienent and somewhat merciful.
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Post by demikara on Dec 30, 2019 19:30:53 GMT -6
He was to survive then. He bowed to her in answer and left. He had destroyed their relationship, hadn't he? By not somehow fixing these compulsions. If they could be fixed. It would be decades before she could even stand to look at him, if then. One day, if he was lucky, she might call him Brandon again. Until then, he would be Bertrando. And his name would be spoken like it was a curse. It was probably a good thing he existed so far on the edges of the court.
Maybe distance would enable some form of forgiveness, one day, though she'd never trust him again.
He couldn't blame her. He didn't trust himself. Not when it came to this.
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Post by Circe on Dec 30, 2019 19:42:05 GMT -6
Drawing an unsteady breath more to calm herself than anything once Brandon had left, she allowed herself to slump down into the high backed and leather upholstered chair that sat behind the desk. Catherine wondered how she had even missed such a thing and how long it had gone on before she had decided to request an audit their records, more out of curiosity than anything else. To even think about it made her stomach churn sickeningly and soon the contents of her last meal came violently back up, deposited in a nearby waste bin.
Muttering a slew of curses under her breath, she wondered if Tyrus had even known. He had been part of the last court after all, and it only stood to reason that he knew about Brandon's role then he knew about the complusion. Many times individuals were given jobs that could either hinder or aid in whatever illness they had, it was an arcaic ideal that much of the unseen still seemed to subscribe to.
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Post by demikara on Dec 30, 2019 20:14:08 GMT -6
It was the day of his trial. Everything had been put into place for her successor, if he didn't make it, but he would try. His aunt asked him to survive after all, so he'd do his best. A court trial like this though was a spectacle, and that meant the entire royal family was in attendance, including a very confused Tyrus. He had known who was on trial, but the specific charges he wasn't certain of. Annoyed, he reached out to the detainee, standing in front of the throne where Grigore lounged.
'Brandon what is this about? What did you do?'
'My compulsion. I killed people.'
'You're a vampire. You kill sometimes, by accident. What compulsion?' Death was a way of life. 'Is this the necromancy? Why would you be on trial for that?'
They weren't being particularly quiet in their mental conversation. Though there was no telling that they were having a conversation if you weren't able to hear others thoughts. They had that aspect of mental conversation down at least, both of them. Tyrus was here in his Eliodoro aspect of course, and dressed the part. They were all dressed for their part in this trial. Court style had greatly changed with the new king.
'If you two are finished?' Grigore scolded them both mentally. Tyrus gave a mental acknowledgement and fell silent. Grigore looked over the court and made certain all was ready. The charges were serious after all, especially given the situation. A Principe of the court, using court resources to hide his killings. They were only human, so the killings weren't the problem for Grigore. It was endangering the court that was the charge as far as he was concerned.
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Post by Circe on Dec 30, 2019 21:34:05 GMT -6
Catherine was trying hard to ignore the commotion between the two and it was doing little for her already shattered emotional state. All she had to do was get through to the other end of whatever awaited her on the other side. Instead of participating as she normally would, she had walled herself off leaving a deafening silence and stark absence of a presence to the other two. Grigore she had no choice in allowing in, as he was her sire and could easily circumnavigate her shields as easily as she could to either Tyrus, Brandon, or Scottlyn.
Catherine had tried to tell herself that it was only humans Brandon had killed, and that they were persons that likely wouldn't be missed, but the metal gymnastics required for that state of mind were not easily forthcoming for her. Sir William had raised her to regard killing as something one only did if absolutely necessary or in the case for some of the unseen to feed themselves; but even then one had to be careful. For her however, the fact that it was Brandon and that his compulsion and killings had been going on at length were what made it that much more difficult for her. Surpressing another cold rolling wave of nausea and fear, Catherine prepared herself for what was to come next. She was not without sympathy for her nephew, the child who she had raised with Izaak and their two daughters, so she offered up a silent prayer to whatever might listen that he survive his ordeal.
Standing next to Grigore, she waited for instruction. Like others, she had dressed her part as La Pricipessa Caterina the heir of il re Grigore. Richly attired in yet another floor length gown designed to take full advantage of her height and figure, this one's tone was much more serious and somber than the one she had worn for the court's first ball. A column dress cut from a deep, nearly black red silk velvet with cape-like sleeves lined in crimson and a large open square neckline with a gold belt sitting at her waist. Like all of her other clothes for the court, they spoke of old world power and elegance. Catherine's long white hair had been pulled back into a severe braided cignon at the nape of her neck and she wore a pair of gold Roman styled earrings set with rubies to match the gold and ruby necklace at her neck.
This was the height of formality and seriousness for the court, one of their own had put their ways and lives at risk by bending to the will of their own desires.
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Post by demikara on Dec 31, 2019 16:40:57 GMT -6
Grigore sat up and looked over his court, then let his eyes land on his...grandson of sorts. And what a disappointment of one, to be caught out like this. Endangering the court wasn't something he'd put up with, not when they were still settling their positions in the Unseen. A vampire serial killer would cause more problems than anyone wanted to deal with, him especially. "Principe Bertrando. You are charged with endangering the court through wanton killing and using court resources to cover up your actions. You have already pleaded guilty." There was a pause, and Brandon spoke up, feeling the cue more than anything else.
"Yes, mio re. I admit to my guilt." And he was ready for the punishment, even if he wasn't certain if he'd survive a trial by fire. His aunt wanted him to survive though, so he planned on doing his best. He would survive. And then he'd never kill again. He didn't dare break her heart nay more than he already had. He'd have a hell of a time finding an unseen therapist or psychiatrist, but there had to be one somewhere that would accept a vampire as a patient.
"You have been sentenced to trial by fire. Should you survive, the court will consider your absolved of your guilt. If you survive and your actions continue, I will deal with you myself, Principe." And he promised that it would be significantly worse than this.
The coals were already burning, set up a solid ten feet of hot coals. Brandon was barefoot and not looking forward to walking across them. The fire though, was not yet lit. "Principessa, light the fires." Tyrus' eyes widened and he glanced to his king out of the corner of his eyes. Catherine was going to have to do that? To Brandon? He reached out mentally, offering comfort to her, if she'd allow it.
'I can do it instead, if need be.' He offered, knowing that his 'grandsire' was more than able to hear it. But he wasn't going to leave her to do it alone. The least he could do was offer her some form of comfort. Having her set the fires herself was a level of cruel he aspired to never reach.
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