Branson

Present Time

Branson continued to stare deeply at Madame Rend. Hiding her embarrassment she took a characteristically defiant stance.

”You complimented me earlier. I forget to say that I like your shirt. I suppose Kara picked that out for you?” She asked him as if she was holding something over him.

Evidenced by his hesitated reaction, Madame Rend was correct. Branson’s shirt had in fact been purchased for him by a woman named Kara. This caused Branson to think back on the day the two of them went shopping to buy the shirt.

6 months Earlier

As the top ranked Preserver of the Lando family, and presumed successor to The Patriarch, Branson Lando had a considerable amount of responsibilities he was required to attend. For instance, because he was quite a gifted public speaker, Branson was often called upon for important gathering and other semi-public events of the Lando clan. He excelled at the speaking part naturally, but he never quite looked the part of a gallant leader. Put plainly, he was a shabby dresser.

This became an issue at the last gala that was held at the Lando estate. It was a political networking event under the guise of a fundraiser. Several Heads of State were in attendance. At this event, Branson was mistaken for a waiter because he was dressed so poorly. This was considered a mildly embarrassing event for the Landos and it was for this reason that Branson was to spend his Saturday afternoon accompanying Kara, one of the family maids.

“Master Branson, Mistress Rend wants me to take you clothes shopping this afternoon. I’m looking forward to it.” Kara told him sweetly.

The blonde hair crowning her head was cut short, but it did not take away from her tender feminine energy. Her big, bright blue eyes shone through her bangs and only augmented the warm smile gracing her pale lips. She moved toward Branson with a determined but graceful gesture that showed her comfort moving in a somewhat restrictive maid outfit.

The outfit, the standard blue uniform of the maid staff at the Lando estate, fit Kara’s form well. She still chose to wear a corset wrapped tightly around her stomach which had the effect of making her decently-sized chest more prominent. Down her body the corset gave way to her well proportioned hips. Her outfit was immaculately clean, as was the standard of the Lando family servants.

“I’ll come with you peacefully, but only under one condition.” Branson teased.

Kara smiled politely.

“I will do any thing you want, Master.” She informed him and nodded.

“Right I know that.” Branson said, scratching his head. “Just, don’t call me ‘Master’. At least not in public. That kind of thing doesn’t go over well now a days.” He told her.

“Yes, as you wish Master.” She told him.

Branson looked at her again and stifled a laugh.

“I’m sorry Master. I mean, I will try not to call you master anymore…” Kara said to him. That time she was able to stop herself. But she was looking increasingly flustered.

“Actually Kara, you’re doing a great job. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I guess I better get ready then.” He said.

Kara smiled nervously, nodded and then looked around at the ground.

Sensing she was seeking additional affirmation, Branson reluctantly obliged. He took his right hand and placed several affectionate pats on her head. This had the effect of calming her down. She smiled, bowed and scurried out of the room to wait for Branson to get ready.

Kara had planned a shopping trip for the two of them, consisting of a tour of the finest men’s stores in the city. The downtown shopping district was primarily the territory of the city’s elite class. An elite class that the Lando family were a long established part of.

In fact all of the 13 families were frequently scene with and around the upper echelons of society. To these old magical families, intermingling with these common, non-magical people was a necessary evil. It was what allowed them to manipulate the authorities and cover up the activities of the Hidden War.

“Yournami’s pretty expensive isn’t it? I don’t suppose the office sent a credit card with you?” Branson asked Kara as the two of them sat in the backseat of a chauffeured black Lincoln Navigator.

“We can just charge it to the family account at the store, Master Branson.” She informed him politely.

The two of them entered the high-end Italian men’s clothing store and were immediately greeted by a clerk. The petit bald man stood to about Branson’s armpits and instantly greeted Kara with a warm embrace.

“Kara my dear, wonderful to see you again.” The flamboyant man kissed her exuberantly on both cheeks. “How are things at the estate?” He asked.

“Beautiful as ever.” She replied.

Branson, who was not one who often experienced the feeling of awkwardness found himself put out by the two’s familiarity with one another. He waited a few more moments for the two to catch up and then interrupted.

“We’re here about a suit. I believe the family office should’ve called ahead.” He told the store clerk.

“‘Here about a suit!’” The clerk mocked in an exaggeratedly masculine voice. “I see you’re still as funny as ever!” The man said.

The man looked over Branson, his eyes lingering for a few seconds more than was comfortable. The clerk then ushered them inside.

Branson spent the next two hours of his day trying on the suits Kara and the clerk picked out for him. Then eventually settled on three suits and several fine white dress shirts. Then the clerk wished them well without them having to discuss payment.

Back in the Present

“Hey are you awake chief?” Madame Rend was snapping her fingers urgently at Branson.

“What? Yes I’m here. Sorry.” Branson rubbed his eyes.

“You’re standing here, about to collapse from exhaustion, yet you’re lecturing me. You look out for everyone in this family, but I don’t think anyone is looking out for you.” She said to him.

“I’m fine. You just focus on not making anymore work for me by harassing civilians.” He told her, trying to reassert authority.

Just then they heard a loud crash come from inside the building.

“It sounds like Stanley is going to make this difficult.” Rend said.

“Go get in there and make sure James doesn’t tear the entire place down.” Branson told her.

Branson then left to go finish the other tasks he had left for the night.

***

James

Back on the second floor, James was standing toe-to-toe with a seven-foot tall Yeti. It was actually a Spirit. It was a Spirit that was conjured out of pure Astral Light by James much like the body double from before. But instead of being a simple decoy like the last Spirit, this one had taken the form of the popular folk creature.

Conjured Spirits are able to take whatever form the casting Client is able to grant them with their level of magical skill. These different forms were often specialized for different purposes.

In this instance, the Yeti was summoned because of its power in close quarters. James could already tell by his initial analysis that this Spirit would not just dissipate like the last one. He would have to destroy it.

The Yeti was a massive beast. Standing at least seven feet tall with hulking shoulders, with a thick coat of long, dirty white hair covering most of his body. This Yeti was completely shredded from head-to-toe with muscles bulging out of every place possible.

It was clear that anyone this monster got its hands around would not last long. This problem was especially clear because of how cramped the area where the combat would have to take place was. The Yeti would be absolutely deadly in such close quarters.

James was relieved to once again be holding his Runi. James had managed to reclaim his weapon after losing it upon entering the second floor. The Yeti had thrown it back at James, but James was able to take control of his weapon as soon as it entered the field of his Astral Aegis (the shield-like Astral force field that is used by magical Adepts).

“Mirka, it’s been a long time. I believe the last time you were summoned against me, I decapitated you. You remember right? You Spirits share these experiences.” James said to the Spirit.

It roared in anger. “Do not mock me, boy. Master Oracle has infused me with Astral Light and I have grown. I’m not the weakling I was before.” The Yeti Spirit pounded its chest and stood up proudly.

“Oracle. So that’s the true name of Stanley Benson’s Anima. All this time we were dealing with Oracle and the organization had no idea. Thanks for the information, I’ll be sure to share it with The Patriarch.” James said back to Mirka.

Mirka roared again. “No I wasn’t supposed to tell you that!”

“You may have gotten stronger, but you remain weak in the mind. Now I’m going to quickly vanquish you from this dimension, I have an appointment with your ‘Master Oracle’.” James said this and then readied his Runi into combat position.