Body and Blood

TW - Themes of childhood neglect
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Wearing his black cassock Cardinal Copia took a moment for a long critical examination of himself in the mirror as he pulled on the fitted black leather gloves, taking care not to stretch them. He closed his eyes briefly as the thought that he had to be careful with them marched into his mind utterly unbidden and confidently set up camp. He had no say in his thoughts, they did whatever they wanted, when they wanted, all too often. He had long since come to the conclusion that his thoughts would be the death of him - if the Ministry didn't get there first. He shuddered at the idea; it felt uncomfortably real.

It was his first photoshoot as the leader of the Ghost Project. Again, he paused. Leader? No, maybe figurehead? Yes, that might be the right word. As with everything else in his life, he had been told what to do, but this time even what to wear. He hadn't said anything, of course, but it had irked him somewhat. He allowed himself to be honest, if only silently inside his own mind, just for a moment. He was a Cardinal. Yes, he had black cassocks, of course he did, but red was more traditional and he was being introduced to the world. He would have worn red. It should have been his choice. Black was too obvious for the photoshoot, but he had been asked... no, ordered by Imperator to wear the black and to not forget his new gloves. Apparently they were particularly important.

He sighed as he looked down at his hands; the gloves.

He always had to be careful not to damage or stretch them. Extensive measurements had been taken of his hands to get an exact fit, the soft supple leather acting as a second skin. They were magnificent, but their beauty was forever tainted when they had been presented to him by Sister Imperator and she had given him that look. It was an expression he was long familiar with - since childhood in fact and every time he saw it, the unspoken phrase: 'I expect to be disappointed by you' settled in his mind as if each word was carefully chosen and placed there by her own hands. Each and every time his mind supplied the words his heart broke just that little bit more.

He had, as a small child, believed himself to be an orphan, lucky to have been taken into the Ministry by Sister Imperator and raised there. If acting as a mother, she was a frequently absent one. On reflection, Copia wasn't sure which was worse - her absence, or her disappointment. He lowered his head, unable to look at himself in the mirror, her disappointment in him had become his.

He had always tried his best to please her, even now all he wanted was her approval. Her love. Whenever he felt even the smallest scrap of affection it would be snatched away without warning. Then maybe later, there might be some gift to distract him, sometimes a toy. Even now. He appreciated the gesture, like he always did, but was he still a child to her?

He longed to please; to love and be loved by more than just his rats. A wave of guilt washed over him at the thought.

He had been a lonely child, frequently ignored except when he had done something wrong, which had seemed all too often. His only real company, apart from the occasional visit from one of the sisters of sin acting as a nanny, were the rats that occupied the building. They saw him in a way no other creature - human or ghoul - did. With pure, non-judgemental regard, they showed him the only affection he had ever experienced and he returned it freely, lavishing attention on the rodents, much to the Elders' disgust.

He had longed for friends, but there simply weren't many children in the Ministry and he was rarely allowed to wander outside into the surrounding town, and certainly not to play. The only other child even close to him in age had been Terzo. Strictly speaking as one of the Emeritus brothers and third in line for the unholy papacy after Papa Nihil retired, the family were too exalted to bother with a lowly orphan. Primo and Secondo, much older of course, had looked at Copia as just another one of his rats that scurried around the cathedral, underfoot and spreading contagion. Terzo had never been like that. He was a sweet, playful, but complex boy who liked to show off. Maybe he was lonely himself or perhaps Copia was merely an audience for the confident and often teasing boy, but it was better than the crushing loneliness. Anything was better than that.