AN: Yet another TC entry, this time of our charming darling, Brand. Always so delicate, so tasteful, so refined. (/blatant lies)
For non TC-ers wondering when the deluge will be over (sorry, bros!), the last (planned) TC piece is Either Or. Hopefully then I can get some other characters mixed in? Although, I do have a good idea for a TC-one-shot for "Tell Me a Story..."
36. Special
Most big boss families had small litters. It sounded strange to outsiders, but it was simply a matter of practicality. Too many kits, and they would start to fight amongst themselves, each vying for a piece of the empire they felt they were entitled to. The ideal number was one: one heir, one future ruler, one kit to dote on and train and raise into the perfect leader. Two was just fine; one to be the ruler, one to be the back-up, the just-in-case-the-first-doesn't-work-out-or-is-hit-by-a-truck-or-something.
Her family had three.
Three was a bad number. Three was frowned upon. With three, you had your ruler, your back-up, and…the trash. The forgotten. The what's-her-name-again?
She was that third kit.
If her family knew what a "black sheep" was, that would have been the name she was pinned with. Instead, she didn't have a nickname at all. She was just sort of there, that little ember that could show some promise if only someone would fan it, but was instead ignored for the fires already roaring.
It wasn't so much that there was something wrong with her. At least, she didn't see it that way. No, there was just something about the other two that made her unimportant.
Blaze had always been at the forefront. As the only tom, he was the natural leader. He was healthy, well-built, strong. He had his father's fiery coat, the perfect symbol for the powerful ruler he would become. He stood out without even trying. He stood out even when he tried not to.
Comet was another case. She had been sickly as a kit, weakly, and had been smothered in attention trying to make her stronger. Or, that was what Brand told herself. It didn't make sense by traditional standards – if that was the case, Brand should have been the back-up-kit, not Comet – but she couldn't personally see any other explanation. Nor did she see the way Comet too was passed over in favor of Blaze, how she too was ignored until she started coming up with the prophecies. Oh, the prophecies. Just an inkling, just a downcast look or a rainy cloud over their heads, and suddenly Comet was bubbling with predictions. It's going to be a bad day. Stay away from the color blue. Make sure to look up! Hidden secrets can be found if you look. On and on, over and over, the same things rehashed repeatedly until they all ran together, until Brand had no idea what to look for and what to ignore. It all seemed of some interest to Comet.
And, of course, the family ate it up. They kept Comet close, kept her secret well-hidden, for a cat with such foresight with such a gift as their mother crooned, had to be protected. She would go far, they were certain. She had a future ahead of her.
Brand wasn't a tom. Her coat was ginger, but it was pale, lacking her brother's vibrancy. She didn't have her sister's odd-eyes, didn't feel like making up prophecies for sport. She had a sharp tongue and sharp eyes and a temper to match and the desire to become great, to become something, but she was the third kit and no one ever saw it. No one took the time to say "Golly gee, how is Brand this morning? Wonder what she wants to be when she grows up?" No, that never happened. It was always, "Blaze, let's go hunting. Blaze, let me teach you this trick and that one. Blaze, this is how to lead. Comet, what are the predictions for today? Comet, what do you have a feeling about? Comet, you must stay beside you brother, lead him to greatness."
And, worst of all, "Brand? Brand who?"
It wasn't as bad when they were younger. Then she could keep the dream alive, could pretend that someday she would have her time in the spotlight, that she wouldn't always be pushed to one side. But then Blaze began rejecting his position as leader, and their father had to work all the harder to convince him of his place. And Comet started bubbling up with her prophecies, until she had her parents hanging onto her every word. And Brand learned how to hunt by watching and learned how to fight by scrapping with the street scum and learned how to be smart and cunning and sharp, how to dodge trouble and weasel out support, how to coo to toms until they'd do whatever you asked. All of that and more she learned, but none of it was enough, none of it was ever enough.
And then, came Jackal. She had been so excited at first, so filled with triumph: a servant, for her very own. A cat she could control, order about as much as she wanted. A cat that couldn't ignore her, had to hang on her every word. A cat that would never ever leave her side. She named him Jackal because it sounded fierce, because it was a word that hovered on the streets to describe someone particularly brutal, someone that stood out. That would be them, she was certain of it. They'd set the city on fire, earn her parents' respect, and claim the throne.
But Jackal was flawed. He was slow sometimes a bit dull. Other times he was too fast, reacting with a hot temper to any perceived threat. Striking first and waiting for orders later, that was a problem of his, in the beginning. It grated on her, until she finally exploded at him, shouted him down until he quivered before her. That was the first spark, the first of many. The second was when she confronted her father, demanded to know why she had such a faulty product. His reply had shaken her, shocked her to the core.
We don't know anything about servants. We thought you could handle him, so we could see if Blaze might want one.
That was what he said. But what he meant was, You're expendable. If Jackal turns out to be a monster, if he goes rogue or explodes, we still have our ruler. We still have our back-up. We just lose the extra.
That was what had sealed the deal. That was what had pointed her in the right direction, told her what had to occur. That was what had sealed her family's fate. Brand would set the city on fire, all right, and she'd make sure her family was the first to burn.
. . .
She prodded her sister with one paw; sharply at first, then even more so when she received no reaction. Slowly those eyes opened – one blue, one green, as if she needed anything to make her any more special –and focused. A sleepy smile came over her sister's face, and Brand wanted to vomit. Somehow she restrained herself, smiling back.
"Top of the morning," she purred, slathering her voice with honey – she was very good at that these days, not that anyone ever noticed. "I thought we'd go hunting together, before everyone else is up."
Her sister blinked once, twice – so stupid, so placid, so damn infuriating – then frowned. "I don't know, Brandy. I had a bad dream the night before. A cloud covered the moon. You know what that means—"
It means "I'm too lazy to get off my tail and do something, I just want to sit around like a fat piece of dung."
She flicked her tail against her sister's white muzzle. "Yeah, yeah, moon stuff. Bad omen. Whatever. I think it's going to be a really great day, but we'll never know for sure unless we get moving!"
The white she-cat mulled it over for a moment, before nodding. "I suppose you're right. We'll just have to stay away from anything green today, won't we?" She cocked her head to the side, thinking to herself. "I think you're correct, Brandy. It'll be a good day for you." She beamed up at her sister, and Brand pasted on a smile, before flicking her tail.
"Let's get moving!"
Comet sat up, before frowning at the hulking black figure hovering just behind Brand. "Does he have to come?"
Brand glanced at her servant, looking him over, then shook her head. She wouldn't need him; they wouldn't be gone long, and she didn't want him talking afterwards. "No. He can stay here. Watch my nest or something."
With that, she trotted out of their home, Comet on her heels, heading into the wide-open city, brimming with possibilities that one of them would never fully see.
"Isn't this nice?" Comet purred as they went along. "Just like when Daddy used to take us hunting, do you remember? Right before dawn, when things are so quiet and beautiful…."
Brand swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. "No. I don't remember." Because Pop never took me, you twit, you self-absorbed, nitwit. You piece of street-slime, you rat's anus….He never thought to take me out when the world was beautiful.
"Really? I could tell you about it—"
"I'm alright." There was more venom in her voice than she'd intended, and she forced it back, not wanting to lose her fish before the fun even got started. "Let's just keep walking."
"Where should we go?" Comet asked. "West feels good at the moment—"
"Let's go East."
Her sister chuckled. "Always so contrary, you silly thing. Can't you just go with the flow, for once?"
"Pop never went with the flow, and he's on top now."
She laughed again. "Pop? You're so silly. You can call him Daddy, you know. He likes that."
He doesn't like anything I say.
"I like 'Pop' better," was her only response. Comet paused then, peering at her with her odd eyes, concern on her face.
"Are you alright? You seem upset about something. Did Daddy – excuse me, Pop – do something? Was it Blaze? Was it me?"
It was all of you, all bundled up together. But you didn't do anything, anything at all. That's the problem, you stupid buffoon, unable to think beyond your own nose.
But it didn't hurt to play along.
"He's just been distant, lately, you know?" She tried to inject some sorrow into her voice, and might have exceeded all too well, as something fluttered in her stomach. "Like he doesn't even care."
Comet's eyes widened. "Oh, Brandy! You know he cares. We all do!"
Call me Brandy one more time, and I'll slit your throat right here, let you bleed out on the sidewalk.
"I don't know…." Her gaze dropped down to her paws. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like anyone sees me at all. Not even Jackal."
Whoa, rein it in there. She doesn't need to know that. No one does. Shut your trap, before you let them see….They don't deserve it, they don't deserve to know. They can only hurt you if you let them.
"I see you," Comet purred, odd eyes twinkling. "I see everything. Do you want me to talk to them about it, though?"
She cringed immediately. Having the back-up kit talk to her father about something like this was the most embarrassing thing she could imagine. "No, it's fine. I'll figure something out."
"Okay. But I'm here for you, if you want to talk." She brushed her tail over Brand's fur, and the ginger tabby resisted the urge to push her away with both paws.
"Let's cross here," she said instead, hovering on the edge of the road. It was rather busy during the day, but in the morning, there were always fewer cars, just a couple tearing past now and then. Her eyes flicked both ways, checking for any oncoming danger.
"Oh, I don't know, Brand…this one's always dangerous. We should go farther down." Comet's ears flattened with discomfort. "Daddy always says never to cross the busy ones like this."
"Are you going to let Pop tell you what to do all the time, forever?" she snapped. "Come on, let's go."
She dashed across the road then, bright paws flying over the black tar, before she abruptly tumbled into a heap. She let out a yowl of pain, cradling her paw against her chest.
"Brand!"
Comet rushed to her side, eyes wide. "Is your paw hurt? Come on, we've got to go! Something's coming!"
Brand tried rising to her feet, only to have her injured paw buckle beneath her. "I can't do it. It hurts too much. I'll be fine, Comet. Get out of the road."
She could hear the roaring behind them, as a monster turned the bend. Bright lights dappled their fur, and her heart started beating rapidly in her chest. "Go!"
"Brandy—" Comet's eyes darted between the oncoming headlights and her sister. Finally, she grabbed Brand's scruff, tugging on it with all her might.
The road vibrated beneath their paws, the roaring grew ever louder, and Brand glanced up to see the fear in her sister's eyes. Comet gave another half-hearted tug, but she had never been the stronger of the two of them, and finally she let go, took a step back.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking again towards the growing lights. "I love you, Brandy, I do. I'll tell Daddy it wasn't your fault—"
Her words cut off suddenly as Brand sprang forwards with four paws that were decidedly not injured, wrapping her jaws around her sister's neck. She threw her to the ground where she herself had been lying the moment before, biting down as hard as she could before letting go and springing back.
"Gotcha," she meowed, eyes glowing, just as the truck roared in front of her face. The wind was enough to almost knock her off her paws, and she stumbled backwards, closing her eyes against the grit and dust. When she opened them again, it was clear that Comet would not be getting up.
Like a shooting star, scattered all over the place, she would think to herself later. I should have made a wish.
But she didn't think anything at all in that moment, just stared, hardly able to believe she had pulled it off. She looked for the truck – a green truck, how strange – but it had already disappeared, chugging on without a thought. In the end, Comet had been just as forgettable as anything else caught underneath the monster's wheels.
She shook herself, then, and ran back to where they had came, back to safety. She had to get home, to tell her family about what had happened. It had just been an accident, that was what she would say. Comet hadn't been looking where she was going, hadn't seen the danger, and splat. All over in the blink of an eye. Nothing she could do. They'd blame her for awhile, certainly, but they were down to two kits now, and whether they liked it or not, she was the back-up kit. For now.
"And then there were two," she murmured to herself, and a small smile flickered on her muzzle as she turned away from the mess she'd created, trotting back home with more plans buzzing in her mind.
AN: How much was reality, and how much was subtext she created in her head? Did Comet see the future, or was it just coincidence? Would Bran have still done it if Comet hadn't failed her "test" and been abotut to abandon her to save herself? Ambiguity runs in the family, I guess.
On Comet's wiki page (yes, TC has a wiki), there's a quote by Brand about Comet that used to be a kind-of-in joke ("Whether or not she really did see the future, she sure didn't see that truck coming!") That's obvs a lie now, but will it make a triumphant return? We shall seeee.