¦¦Specter¦¦(DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 1

TW for (VERBAL) ABUSE + TALKS OF DEATH
(This will be a very generally heavy emotional fic)

-Cinna
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Clotted Cream was sitting in a meeting, the voices of the elders arguing around him were simply mere blurs at this point. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he arrived back at the republic, everything had sort of merged together into one which led the consul to where he was now. Fading in and out of reality as he gripped onto his bodyguard's cloak which he had draped around himself, if it wasn’t for the blood which stained it, he wouldn’t stand out all that much wearing it. It actually hugged him rather snug, although that felt rather bittersweet and ironic now. He blinked a little as he faded back to reality, looking around the room.

“We cannot forgive this! How can we just move on?!” Vanilla Sugar’s voice cried out, Mille Fueille nodded in agreement and she clasped her hands together.
“I agree! We can't let the heroes get away with killing one of our citizens just like that! Financier was innocent!” She argued, backing up Vanilla Sugar.
“But don’t you think it’s a little brash to start a war? We have the one with Dark Enchantress looming, that is far more dangerous.” Oyster countered, glancing over to the consul with a worried look.
“I believe Clotted Cream is our main focus right now.” She added, getting a nod from Captain Caviar in agreement.
“Aye.. he doesn’t seem to be holdin’ up all that well.” He spoke, glancing at Custard who merely rolled his eyes.
“My boy will be fine, I reassure you all of that fact.” He spoke bluntly, folding his arms as he glanced at his son. Hesitating before gently placing a hand on his shoulder, to try and comfort.

Oyster scoffed at this, her eyes narrowing as she watched the elder. It wasn’t the most hidden fact that Custard was a strict father, but she had always suspected there was more to it than just being a little strict. She folded her arms as she watched the scene unfold, an uneasy feeling growing in her stomach as she watched it. Something wasn’t quite right here.

Clotted looked to his side where his father was, his eyes seemed so distant as he shrugged him off. He knew he didn’t care and just wanted to look good for the other elders. Clotted shakes his head and pushes his chair out. The skidding of the chairs legs causing a loud screech, he held onto the table as he remembered the roar of Dark Cacao’s blade. He quickly moved away from the table, rushing off out of the meeting. He couldn’t handle the attention on top of everything else, not right now. Tears flood his eyes as he steps outside, the cold sea air hitting him in the face. Was it always this cold? He wasn’t sure, hugging himself as he walked from the building. He slouched down in a rather lonesome area, glancing around and sitting on the nearby bench which creaked under the consul’s weight. He didn’t care though, barely even processing it through all the other thoughts which rushed through his mind.

He leaned against the wall, staring at his hands as his head rested against the cool bricks. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before sobbing. He had to admit he couldn’t hide it any longer, his walls breaking down as a flood began. Tears poured down his face as he truly started to process everything, Financier was killed. She was killed in front of him, all because he had pushed the hero too far and she was meant to protect him. If he hadn’t stepped over the line, if he had shut up and backed off? She would be alive. He could’ve handled the conflict with his father if he came back empty handed. But because of his fear of disappointing others, he would never see Financier again.

Distant footsteps broke the consul out of his pathetic state, looking up to notice his father standing there. He couldn’t read his expression and truthfully he didn’t want to, he wiped his tears and hugged himself.
“What do you want?” Clotted murmured, his voice coming off far more harsh than initially intended. He could feel the nerves in his stomach bubbling up at what would likely unfold. Today had been tiring as it was, he most definitely didn’t need anything more on top of that.
“I was going to comfort you son. But then you felt the need to use that tone with me.” Custard responded harshly, staring down at his adopted son who refused to make eye contact with him.
“Sorry.” Clotted muttered under his breath, he really didn’t care right now. He didn’t care for pleasing his father, he didn’t care for manners, he just wanted to close his eyes and hope everything was a bad dream. Although he knew deep down that was just wishful thinking.