𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓌𝑒'𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓌𝑒'𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒

vampireapologist

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓛𝓪𝓭𝔂

❝ 𝐼 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝐼 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝐼'𝓂 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝐼'𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒
𝒲𝒽𝑜 𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝒾𝓇;
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓋𝒶𝒾𝓃,
𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝐼 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽, 𝒽𝒶 ! 𝒽𝒶 ! 𝐼 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽, 𝒽𝑜 ! 𝒽𝑜 !
𝐼 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓃. ❞

━ 𝑩 𝑰 𝑶 𝑮 𝑹 𝑨 𝑷 𝑯 𝒀 ━

Bramble has a strange accent that no one seems to recognize, but her charming smile makes them forget those worries soon enough. Years ago, she came with a grand envoy to be presented to Claramond as a potential bride. A second-born lady to a line with no male heirs, she was of little use to her family except to be married off. She initially hid her face beyond recognition behind elaborate paint, as is somewhat custom in her land. But she took it to an extreme so that none in Tyrnas Eira would recognize her without it. Bramble had a plan, and Claramond was going to help her with it. He was delighted to play along with the elaborate game before them: faking her death in order to ensure her freedom from her parents and duties. Now she plays at being a bard in Claramond’s gaggle of ladies, composing epic poetries to be plucked along her instruments and brought to life by Valaracar’s ethereal voice. Never mind that a small creature might live inside her mandolin: one with pick-pocketing tendencies that force Bramble into her fair share of trouble. She has had to perfect her own sneaking and meddling skills, if only to secretly return the items her little one keeps taking. Despite this, Claramond doesn’t seem to mind that Bramble has stuck around for years now; however, it is a bit peculiar. She said she wanted her freedom in order to travel the world and find her own adventure. So what [or whom] can account for Bramble's continued presence at court ?

━ 𝑩 𝑨 𝑪 𝑲 𝑮 𝑹 𝑶 𝑼 𝑵 𝑫 ━

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 ⋅∘⋅ Bramble Corinth Juniper.
𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ She likes the affection when someone calls her just plain B, though most often, Bramble suffices.
𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ None, for this version of her has only existed for ten years and has no connection to noble blood.
𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ⋅∘⋅ Bramble was born as the second Lady of Prith. Her sister's husband would have inherited their land, titles, and castle, and Bramble's own rights would have depended solely on his hospitality . . . or her own marriage, of course. She would have retained her honorary title until being wed into her new one. With her death, however, all formalities were simply forgotten. Bramble had nearly nothing to call her own in any case.

𝐀𝐆𝐄 ⋅∘⋅ Twenty-Three.
𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 ⋅∘⋅ November 30th.
𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋅∘⋅ Prith Castle of Lapudalia, a country far to the south.
𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 ⋅∘⋅ Sagittarius.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 + 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ Cisgender female, she + her.
𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ⋅∘⋅ Pansexual.

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 ⋅∘⋅ Malika El Maslouhi.
𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ⋅∘⋅ Imre ∙ Llyrie ∙ Ingold.

━ 𝑻 𝒀 𝑷 𝑰 𝑪 𝑨 𝑳 𝑺 ━

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐄 ⋅∘⋅ Bramble tends to treat any clothing in Claramond's wing as "communal property." What is the point of a gaggle of ladies, if not to have the most expansive closet possible? Only kidding of course, but . . . she does certainly engage in the age-old "sisterly" act of borrowing frocks and overcoats. Mostly asking first! Though B's own style is still quite posh ━ all of those years as a lady did give her a taste for the finest ━ she gravitates towards neutral colors but with fine, incredibly ornate details. An instrument is almost always her accessory of choice.
𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ Maple, from playing her violin all morning, with a lingering note of cardemom.
𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ⋅∘⋅ Inside the kitchens playing music whilst dinner is being cooked.
𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 ⋅∘⋅ Valacar, Imre, and Ayleth hold her heart the most.

━ 𝑰 𝑫 𝑬 𝑵 𝑻 𝑰 𝑻 𝒀 ━

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓 ⋅∘⋅ Honesty. Well, besides, you know, that one thing.
𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 ⋅∘⋅ Bramble's existence is a lie. She lied to everyone to fake her own death. Now, she pretends not to be a lady but a random foundling Claramond plucked from obscurity. She knows that lying probably saved her life. But she hates it. Bramble is a soft girl. She only feels comfortable being loud if it's with an instrument. Even when she plays for a crowd, she hates the way all those eyes feel on her. Having grown up with The Retinue since she was fourteen, she can still seem a bit youthful in her endeavors. Sometimes she forgets the harsh world of court is constantly brewing around her. Optimistic and freedom-loving, Bramble does still dream of adventures . . . but truthfully, her family was once so horrible, she never knew how to love them. Finding that with Claramond and The Retinue has meant everything to her. She can't tear herself away. They may not share blood, but it means so much more to Bramble. Yet, all the same . . . she is a mischievous girl. She likes games, especially little pranks. She gets something in her head and can't get it out. She often fails to even consider actions can have consequences, which is perhaps how she ended up 'dead' in the first place. Quite easy to take advantage of, Bramble might be a weak spot on Claramond's court. She does not think to suspect people of wrongdoing until it's too late.

𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐌𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ Her fingers are always wiggling as if they're playing some instrument every time she is thinking about something. She has a very short attention span, but Bramble is very physically affectionate. It's her love language, so she often hugs and caresses her friends.
𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ Composing music, writing ballads, and playing any instrument she can get her hands on. She always sort of invents her own, though not very seriously. It's just a nice way to pass time. Bramble is also addicted to playing "dress-up" and will convince the Retinue to wear their most luxurious outfits for no reason at all. She cannot use her cultural make-up too much, since even after all these years, B does slightly fear being found out. However, it is still a part of her heart and soul. She loves using paint to draw elaborate patterns on her own or others' faces, arms, torsos, wherever!

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ Writing music | spending her days doing nothing of value and everything of fun | elaborate outfits that are, perhaps, more akin to costume | lemon-flavored everything, even though it's nearly impossible to get it this far north | spooky stories told around warm fires
𝐀𝐁𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ Her toes always being blocks of ice { but she does love sticking them on the unsuspecting calves of a nearby retinue victim should their skirt brush too high } | gweyir and everything about them | matters of state | reading { boring! } | anyone who can't take a joke

𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐋𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ To never stop being happy.
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ That this happiness is the most fragile thing she has ever had.

𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ⋅∘⋅ People say the ghost of Claramond's potential bride still haunts these halls, which is technically about Bramble. It is also whispered around court that she is up to something with someone she shouldn't be. Bramble knows she is simply returning the objects that Gweyir has stolen, but she hasn't always been able to go on these missions without getting caught. It has gotten a bit difficult to justify being in some of these corridors, especially late at night.

━ 𝑴 𝑨 𝑮 𝑰 𝑪 ━

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 ⋅∘⋅ On one hand, B does understand why magic became outlawed. It has wrecked havoc across the land in many ways. However, she does not mind the prospect that it might come back. She is very ambivalent, overall, preferring to spend her time worrying about much else. What does concern her is some of her friends seeming to lose themselves in the practice of magic. Yes, it can heal. Yes, it can make for some truly beautiful displays. But is it always worth it? Bramble holds her tongue most of them time, but she thinks, if pressed, her answer to that question might be . . . no, it's truly not.

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 ⋅∘⋅ Before her life at Tyrnas Eira, Bramble had no contact with magic. It is dormant in her home land, nothing more than a rumor. Her only familiarity with it, for many years, was simply what the other girls of the retinue busied themselves with. Then Bramble met a tiny injured creature whilst out on a hunt. Her nurturing soul brought it home and cared for it. After all, what harm could a kitten do? Well, probably none, but this was hardly an ordinary cat. Without meaning to invite them, Bramble has a small Aes Sidhe who has taken up residence in her favorite mandolin. They appear, occasionally, as a tiny human, but they most often take the form of a small black kitten with a white tuft on its chest — a cat-sìth. Their human form is reserved for the mischief they get up to in the shadows. Getting mistaken for a darling kitten all other times of day is much preferred. They claim they were kicked out by their people for being too small { and it is true that they're quite the runt }, but it is much more sinister than that. They will not tell Bramble their true name. However, she has taken to calling them Gweyir.

𝐖𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ⋅∘⋅ Bramble has no innate power within her, nor does she have the knowledge of how to do any spell. Though supportive of Alva's interests, B does not share them.