#lord bramm

[edgar-percival]

Everything is under control.

Respectfully,

Lord Bramm Steevenzon, CEO of Steevenzon Real Estate inc.

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[edgar-percival]

And so began the monthly extraction.

Edgar was fixed into the machine by Sir Howard, the Chronicler. The Mudokon butler was hung upside down by his ankles in the contraption, and then Madam Shelley pulled the lever.

The masters all stood back and watched the light show begin.

And thus Edgar was exposed to the usual agonising electric currents, high voltage surging through his veins. The mechanical whirring of the machine drowned out his cries and screams.

Tears fell and were being collected. Everything was normal, everything was expected.

Until suddenly, the suppressor implanted into the back of his neck began to release miniature sparks of the stored psychic energy, flickering out jots of pitch black.

Lord Bramm’s eyes widened slightly as he noticed something was wrong. “Shelley, please turn off the machine.” He said, looking down at the aged madam.

Edgar shrieked in torment as his energy was drained from his body, manifesting into aggressive forks of pitch black lightning, beginning to attack around the chamber.

“But Lord Br—”

“TURN IT OFF.” Boomed the colossal Glukkon as the Vykker hesitantly scurried towards the lever, grabbing it with all four hands.

Edgar couldn’t speak, think, or see. If he could have, despite everything, he would have warned Madam Shelley.

As she pulled the lever to cancel the tear extraction process, she was struck, by the final bolt, causing her to tumble over.

The other Steevenzons called her name, but she was unresponsive.

And that was the last that Edgar could remember as he faded out of consciousness.

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[edgar-percival]

It was time for the monthly extraction. Something Edgar silently dreaded, but was accustomed to.

It was Madam Shelley who knocked on his door at around five in the morning. The butler hadn’t gotten a wink of rest, and there stood the aged stubby Vykker, tapping her lengthy nails on the door in a disorderly rhythm. “Ahem.” Her voice was shrill and unpleasant, like an out-of-tune violin. “Come on then! Out of bed, do not keep Lord Bramm waiting!” The Madam pressed impatiently, the exhausted Edgar rubbing his eyes as he clambered out of his makeshift bed.

“I am, terribly sorry, Madam.” The Mudokon apologised with a small bow of his head. Madam Shelley tutted in response, barely acknowledging the apology and folded her arms as she walked away. This had all happened countless times before, so Edgar didn’t need to be told to follow her. He had no time to dress himself; any delay on his part would cause him to be put through more pain, so he was more chilly than usual as he walked through the long corridors. Of course Madam Shelley didn’t walk down the stairs when they arrived to them; she used her stairlift, slowly descending while sneering at the Mudokon butler.

Some minutes later, Edgar entered the extraction chamber after Madam Shelley; the ones of importance had to be present in the room first to listen to Lord Bramm’s speech. A peculiar rule, but a rule nonetheless, and rules had to be strictly followed.

Edgar walked further into the room. The extraction chamber was an undecorated, long grey hall with a high ceiling- almost every ceiling in the manor was incredibly far up since they had to accommodate for the CEO’s towering frame. At the end of the hall was where his masters were; Sir Albert stood aside, Madam Shelley was by the lever, and next to Sir Howard was Lord Bramm. And there he stood, forebodingly, situated before the extractor, welcoming Edgar with a hardened glare.

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[edgar-percival]

Dear Lord Steevenson:

Good day. I've heard news of a party being hosted at your estate, and I'm interested at the prospect of meeting you. I would feel humbled discussing your business together, and would be more than honored to have an article about it in The Daily Deception.

I hope to meet with you and your family, if you'll have me.

Cordially,

G.G. Garlickson, Owner of The Daily Deception

P.S. I do hope I'm not overstepping my bounds but, if invited, I request to bring my head writer so he may take notes for me. Thank you.

Dear G.G. Garlickson,

Very well. I shall send out an invitation for you, and it would be my pleasure to converse about business. After all, that is the main reason as to why I am arranging this dinner party. I courteously anticipate our meeting.

Respectfully,

Lord Bramm Steevenzon, CEO of Steevenzon Real Estate inc.

P.S. Your head writer is welcome; we acknowledge and respect that notes may wanted to be taken. However, please ensure that he does not venture anywhere unoccupied.

@thedailydeception

[edgar-percival]

Part 1 @ahlu-the-mercenary 

Madam Shelley giggled in her scratchy voice, “Beauty must be maintained, dearie! Monthly is not enough, no no no!” She waved one of her claws as if to playfully scold Aslik.

Lord Bramm slowly straightened his posture and continued to watch this Mudokon, somewhat enamoured by their demeanour and listening to every word they had to say. The timid smile they flashed made him cock a brow slightly, and even give a small warm grin in return. It was cute... This Mudokon was cute.

“Ah…” Lord Bramm’s face then fell a little at Ahlu’s comment. “We have had Mudokons before, but they were prone to misbehaving. Our current butler, for instance… He is wonderful at his job, but he is highly delusional and very unwell. He even attempts to spread rumours about us.” He breathed out a long, low sigh.

[edgar-percival]

In the conference room, a meeting between occupants was being held. The four Steevenzons, sitting around a large table, were all feeling mixed emotions. The atmosphere was tense, the air was heavy as Madam Shelley adjusted the bandages around her head.

“I say we just replace ‘im. He ain’t that good anyway.” Sir Albert spoke up, breaking the silence. Lord Bramm sighed lowly as he greeted the smaller Glukkon’s bold eyes with a harsh glare.

“…You know full well why that is off the table, Albert.” Lord Bramm said. “Mr Percival is a rare catch. With proper discipline-”

“How much do we need to torture the git before he gets it though?!” Sir Albert spat, casually interrupting the Lord. Sir Howard shared a glance with the injured Madam Shelley.

Lord Bramm fell quiet for a few long seconds. “First of all, Albert, do not talk over me. Show some respect.” Scolded the giant Glukkon as Sir Albert sunk into his chair. “Second, the punishments do not only serve as a means to deter him from misbehaving, but they also keep him in order. It reminds us how strong he is to endure all of this pain, and why we need to keep him around.”

“So strong, yeah! Just look what ‘e did to Shells!” Sir Albert exclaimed sarcastically. Madam Shelley rested her chin on her hand and looked away as she widened her eyes, and Sir Howard folded his long hands on the table; they were silently agreeing with Sir Albert; but they wouldn’t dare admit it.

“Excuse me?” Lord Bramm responded. “How dare you use that tone.”

Albert scoffed, “Even Lenore knew her place. We never would have had this problem with her.”

A deafening silence filled the room once more as the tension thickened. Chilling air rushed through the room at the mere mention of that name. “We do not talk about her.” Lord Bramm said slowly. “And remember that she was not a housekeeper like Mr Percival, you just decided to treat her like a slave because of her species. In addition, we had other issues with her that we do not speak about. End of.”

Sir Howard slowly turned towards Lord Bramm. “My Lord, I have a suggestion regarding Edgar.” The Chronicler said, the colossal Glukkon turning his head to listen. “We could definitely be stricter with him. He could be watched 24/7 by L3N0R3 and have less time to indulge in our facilities, such as the library. When he is not cooking or cleaning, he can be locked in his quarters instead of having permission to roam the manor freely.”

Lord Bramm looked down in thought as the others nodded at the idea. “A fine suggestion, thank you, Sir Howard… I will put it into consideration.” He said. “Madam Shelley, contact Gadgetz Laboratory tomorrow and inquire about an electric-resistant suppressor. Remember to file a complaint also; you have been injured and their faulty technology is partially to blame.”

“Will do, Brammy!” Madam Shelley grinned and cackled slightly. “I’ll tell them to make it extra painful for him too!”

Lord Bramm slowly rose from his seat. “Very good. Anyway, that will be all. You are all dismissed.”

Edgar took his ear away from the door.

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