35 • ROGUE • TAKEN BY EVE
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of parental death
DIRECT FROM LE PETIT JOURNAL:
So many of these Americans flooding our lovely Paris are so very… well, American, no? Brash and rude, trodding all over the customs and traditions as much as they trudge along our cobblestones. And yet, sometimes, a rare gem appears among them - even an unusual one, such as Mademoiselle Brannon. Quick witted and well versed in art, Mlle Brannon makes for excellent company, though perhaps less refined than one might expect of a woman her age. Indeed, many might expect her to have or be looking for a husband at her age, yet she seems perfectly content to live with her brother and spend her days painting at L'Académie de la Grande Chaumière.
For some, being the youngest brings the privilege of being the baby of the family well into adolescence and even adulthood. Being the one coddled most by parents, given special exceptions and attention. Being the favorite, the one who gets away with anything and everything simply by existing and being loved. For some, that might be true. For Cora Brannon, it mostly meant being forgotten, being ignored and left to her own devices. Being the youngest meant that her parents were tired, that her siblings thought her too little to be much fun. For Cora, being the youngest allowed her freedom in how little attention she was paid.
She made the most of it. Learned to relish it. But that took time.
As a child, Cora learned quickly that she was not expected to make much of herself - fourth child, second daughter, most of the paths had been carved out already. Thomas, the oldest, was the golden son. Expectations placed on him as their mother’s darling, their father’s heir. Henry and Maggie had the shine of being both twins as well as the spare and first daughter. Distinct in their own ways, rounding out their little family. Except, apparently, not quite - Cora herself was born as the last of the family, a second daughter. And who needed a spare one of those?
Thomas was the perfect one, Henry the idealist, Maggie the darling… so where did that leave her? Somewhere in between, somewhere walking behind the rest. Cora was never particularly close with any of her siblings, at least to start. Certainly they were family, family was important, but most of them were busy in their own ways. Thomas, however, was the most likely to be stuck with Cora when her parents were too tired to care - and, for a while, Cora was delighted to think she had a friend. Someone she would look up to, would trail after like a little duckling while the twins were off in their own little world. Someone who, at least for the most part, tolerate her with some bemusement as she drew pictures and insisted on showing him. Time, however, had them growing apart over time - Tom had school, had better things to do than keep watching his kid sister. And Cora, well, Cora found other things to occupy herself, preferring books on history and seeing rare pictures of things other people could create.
What always made Cora special was her charm - didn’t work at home, perhaps, too overshadowed there, but at school, in town? Cora was charming, excellent at picking up on the people around her, what she might be able to use to worm her way into what she needed from them. Art was a hobby, something she loved learning about and loved to create even more - getting the supplies was more difficult, but manageable with honeyed words and a quick wit that delighted adults. Even better, she learned over time, was that she could mimic some of the art she had a chance to see on rare occasion. Good recall and an excellent attention to detail, so that when she’d seen something she really liked, she could manage to recreate it. Something for her, something she could hide in her room and remember later, so she didn’t have to let something so pretty go even long after the page or piece was gone.
She did manage to convince her parents into allowing her to attend university - easy enough, after Maggie laid some of the ground work the years before, though Maggie’s aim in trying to find a husband was radically different than Cora’s own. Cora wasn’t there to find a husband, that seemed like a waste - far more interesting, to her, was to learn more about art and the history behind it. But, just because she wasn’t interested didn’t mean that romance didn’t find her. She fell, fast and hard, for a man older than her. A man who tried to convince her, in her last year at the university, to run away with him as soon as she graduated. That she didn’t care much for her family, they didn’t care much for her… she could just start over somewhere else, with him. He even promised that he’d leave his wife for her. Cora was far more tempted than she ever would admit aloud to anyone else. And then the letter of her mother burning in the factory arrived. She privately wondered if it was her punishment, for ever even considering leaving her family behind. The way things ended with her lover had been… painful, to say the least, and Cora returned home heartbroken in more ways than one.
Cora did what she could, in the time after their mother’s death, as they all waited with bated breath for the letters Maggie would get from Henry and, occasionally, Tom. At least, until Maggie got sick and the letters crawled to a stop. Even as a younger sister, Cora tried desperately to try and help Maggie, wanting to do anything that might save her - during the panic, even so far as to learn to forge the local doctor’s signature in order to get anything that was even rumored to potentially help her older sister. Nothing worked, and she died before Cora and her father’s eyes. Her father wasn’t far behind, killing himself to join her mother and sister rather than bother to not leave Cora alone. Like he even forgot she was still there, still trying to be there to help him.
So she did the only thing she could think of and wrote Thomas and Henry, waited as patiently as she could for them to come home. Filled her time by doing odd jobs around the city, as people whispered that she might be able to help write prescriptions for them and bypass even needing to see a doctor. Wrote notes for people to be able to travel more freely, forged signatures and documents with increasing skill and used her charm to slide out of any suspicion that happened to point her way.
Thomas was the only one to come home - the only one to actually find her, who seemed to want to cling onto her, even if it was simply because she was the last one left. Cora chose to believe that it was because he actually wanted her. She fell back into step beside him, following his lead so much as it suited her - even to Paris, so they could try and find Henry. Hold onto that last bit of hope, for as long as they could manage to.
The Smuggler: You travel similar circles, it seems - illegal ones, that is. You’ve been crossing paths along the quais often enough that you’re starting to see and hear things about what kind of work is really done aboard those boats of theirs, and you’re beginning to wonder if you might be able to do each other a couple mutually beneficial favours.
The Fiend: There’s this job you did, recently - very clandestine, and awfully lucrative. On someone’s behalf, orchestrated by an agent who tried to make light of the whole thing. As if you were some fool! No; you know what you were dealing with, and, now, you want to know who.
The Recluse: Now that’s a challenge. An artist so unique, so beloved, so enigmatic, that every precious piece has a hefty price tag - and a great deal of attention - attached. You’d have to be at the very top of your game, to get away with faking one of their works. Are you?
Faceclaim & Pronouns: Keira Knightley, she/her
The Forger is taken by Eve, she/her.
