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"You'll remember appendix, a souvenir slit;
The preacher's buzz, communion blood;
A promise to a mother, if you care to;
A drunk, and a head in the abbey;
There's a text and a photo, a garter, a drunk,
And a fair face you half forgot"
It starts out small enough; afterall, Copia has grown to not only expect, but also accept the worst case scenario.While a usual photoshoot sounded simple enough, when Imperator mentioned that there will be props he already made a mental list of all the awful things he might have to hold, or - Satan forbid - even wear in front of the photographer.
Copia likes to be prepared, if not physically then at least mentally. He genuinely believes he’s been doing a fine job at that so far, so, when he is led into the Ministry’s media room, he thinks he is prepared for the worst, and if he is lucky he can get away with something less gruesome than what his mind was able to conjure up, but he’s proven wrong the moment one of the assistant plop the grotesque joke of a prop into his hands.
He feels the strands of hair, the high cheekbones, the jagged flesh, and he does not look down to look at it. He knows he is holding a human head, and that's all he needs to know to realize that he absolutely doesn’t want to know whose, and tries not to guess either. But then Nihil steps behind him, smiles at him, and shows a little too much teeth. Copia still doesn’t look down, and Nihil grips his shoulder. There’s no warmth or reassurance in it, and Copia translates it as a threat.
The camera flashes.
Copia looks down.
The dead eyes of The Third stare back at him.
Nihil grips his shoulder again, and Copia, despite what his brain is telling him to do, does not scream. He looks into the camera and behaves.
The rest of the day passes by in a haze, thankfully devoid of Nihil and maimed dead bodies. Copia doesn’t really know what to do with himself anymore, especially not after the morning photoshoot. He severely lacks entertainment, and it’s not like he can bury himself in work either. Any and all responsibilities he had were stripped from him the day Sister Imperator put him into the role of the head of the ghost project. They don’t even let him do taxes anymore, despite the fact that he’s been doing most of them since he was 19.
He wanders around the Ministry, looks at the shelves in the library, but nothing catches his eyes. He rides around on the tricycle he received from Imperator after Papa Nihil dragged his oxygen tank over his feet . He skips lunch. He receives a bouquet of flowers from a Sister of Sin, and neatly places it in a vase in his room. He tries not to think about anything, but people keep talking to him, and somehow, despite the warmth and kindness he receives from some ghouls and clergy members he can’t shake the feeling that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, because replacing people here is comically easy, and if he fucks up, even a little bit, he can end up in a neat glass display, and he won’t even be the most popular relic.
He makes sure to lock his door, and retires early. He feels like even the cat poster is staring at him menacingly, so he turns it towards the wall. He sure as hell doesn’t want to hang for quite a bit, thank you very much.
The next day things start going downhill.
Copia opens his eyes, and the first thing he sees is the wilted flowers on his desk. Odd. They were fresh the day before, and he is positive that even he is unable to fuck up something as simple as putting a bouquet in a vase. He furrows his brows, pokes at the dead petals a few times, but when he looks at the clock he decides not to bother with it for now. He will be late for his meeting with Sister Imperator if he gets too hung up on some dead flower and the possibly shitty tap water he put them in.
Half an hour and two cups of shitty coffee later Copia sits at the table in front of Imperator, and says absolutely nothing. He just nods along, because he knows his input is worth jackshit, so he just resorts to fiddling with his grucifix and avoids eye contact like he is a child being reprimanded by his especially stern mother.
“Cardinal, are you paying attention?” Imperator raises an eyebrow. She fiddles with her pen at the expression her face looks like something between irritation and half-assed concern.
In return, Copia gives a thumbs up and forces a smile, “Yup. It’s all...cool. I’m cool. I’m with you.”
Sister Imperator squints at him, then at the empty notebook in front of him, but does not comment again. She pulls out a folder with planned stage outfits and backdrops, and launches into an elaborate monologue about picking the right stagehands and dresser for the upcoming shows. Copia actually stops paying attention halfway through, and it takes Imperator at least 20 minutes to notice. She sighs again, and lets him go. Copia nods respectfully, thanks Imperator for essentially wasting his time, and turns to leave. Before he can though, Sister Imperator reaches after him, but pulls her hand back just before touching his shoulder.
Her hand just hangs in the air limply. She seems to realize this, and makes a wide, grand gesture, and smiles at him, “You have great things lying ahead of you Cardinal. If you stop wasting your time on worrying about trivialities I am sure you will do wonderfully.”
Copia hums in a way he hopes sounds like appreciation, but it comes out more like a resignation. He knows that what Sister said was meant to be supportive, but it feels odd and out of character for her. She acted as his mother for most of his childhood, then just sort of forgot about him as he got older. They rarely talked about anything other than clergy business, but ever since she realized he would be a wonderful replacement for the former Papas she sometimes had these odd flare ups of unexplained affection, and Copia didn’t really know what to do with them.
On one hand, they remind him of his early childhood when Imperator was always kind of affectionate, and constantly showered him in gifts and softly whispered affection, but on the other they always come off like pitiful attempts to manipulate him to go along with her plans without any hiccups. He has no no idea if Sister is ever genuine, or if these weird affections were really all just empty flattery to make him more agreeable.
So, as usual, Copia just blinks at her, “Thank you for your faith in me Sister. I will uh. Make sure not to disappoint.” He gives an awkward wave, and excuses himself from her office, without giving Sister Imperator another opportunity to act oddly motherly. If she starts using one of his old nicknames or even worse, comes up with a new one, Copia is sure that he will either scream or strangle himself.
Shaking off the feeling of discomfort, Copia heads back to his room. Maybe today he will actually do some writing, or at least something mildly productive. However, his plans for the day are scrapped the moment he steps through the door.
His room is absolutely trashed. His pillows are ruined, the pieces of the vase are scattered across the floor, and nearly everything is covered in the remnants of ripped up pieces of notes and documents. He looks down and sees the cat poster, with all of the words scratched out except for “Hang.”
Copia steps out, closes the door, and opens it again. The room still looks awful. As he is processing the absolute fuckery that his room has become, he misses the clicking steps coming down the hall towards him, then suddenly he smells Sister Imperator’s perfume as she leans over his shoulder to peek inside the room.
There’a a moment of stunned silence, before Imperator clears her throat, “Did you-”
“No.” Copia answers without listening to the entire question, and kicks the poster under his bed.
Sister Imperator stares after it, frowning. When Copia turns to look at her, she opens her mouth, then closes it, and stares back at Copia expectantly, waiting for the explanation he most definitely can’t provide. He makes an attempt anyway.
“Ghouls, I assume,” He chuckles awkwardly as he moves in front of Imperator to try to hide the mess.
“Right,” Imperator says, with the air of someone who absolutely does not believe the excuse, “Here are some of the documents I asked you to look through, you left them in my office,” she shoves a bundle of papers in Copia’s hands and scans the room one last time before turning to leave.
“I will leave you to sort this out, Cardinal, there’s something that requires immediate attention.”
And with that Copia is left alone in front of his room once again.
For a few days nothing out of the ordinary happens. Copia has managed to save some of his notes on unfinished lyrics, and spends some time either writing or practicing with his band ghouls. Apparently they were not the ones who trashed his rooms, but they are kind enough to get him new pillows and a poster anyway. If Copia wants to be honest with himself he no longer wants to look at the stupid cat anymore, but according to one of the ghoulettes it took a lot of work to find an identical poster, and he can’t exactly afford to refuse the kindest thing someone has done for him in years, so he hangs it anyway. It’s fine. He knows nothing is fine, but he tells himself that anyway. He’s hanging in there, and thankfully only figuratively, and not literally.
But as always, things go to shit again.
He wakes up screaming, and he has only about a second to think that he only woke from the usual nightmare before he feels the sharp claws around his ankle. Something tears at his flesh, and Copia struggles and kicks at the air, but the pain continues.
Then suddenly the something that has him by the ankles yanks. Copia yelps when he hits his head on the side of the bed as he goes down.
His last thought before everything goes black is that Nihil and Imperator finally had enough of him.
When he opens his eyes he realizes that he in fact, is still unmurdered, but very much covered in blood. He has a few tiny scratches and cuts mostly on his arms and legs, and there’s some dried blood stuck in his hair, but there’s not nearly enough injuries to explain the pool of blood around him. He stays lying on the floor, and looks up at the poster.
He is hanging in there alright.
He’s probably missed a meeting, and maybe even rehearsal, but can’t really bring himself to care, really. His time on the floor gave him some ideas. He’s certain that what’s been happening with and around him is a proper haunting. Well, that or The High Clergy intentionally fucking with his head. But once in his life he decides to be an optimist and bets on the haunting instead. The vengeful ghosts of the former Papa's sound better, at least they seem to be open about their intentions and won't parade him around first. While he didn't have anything to do with their deaths, and definitely didn't have anything to do with mutilating and further disrespecting Terzo’s corpse, but he has to admit that from the outside it seems like he's the one benefiting from their deaths the most.
At least the burden of guilt is only his.
Copia has no idea why, but things mellow out a bit after that morning.
The haunting continues of course, but the worst he gets is his room or the tour bus getting trashedfrom time to time. One morning he wakes up to a dick drawn on his face, the next there’s ivy creeping through his window. He learns to live with it, and even starts guessing which Emeritus brother is doing what to piss him off. He rolls his eyes most of the time, acts annoyed as high hell, but in reality he’s enjoying most of the shenanigans.
It reminds him of when he was a teenager, when he and the Emeritus brothers were on speaking terms. Secundo used to pull a lot of pranks on his younger brother when they were younger, and Copia was often there to witness them, and sometimes even partook in the revenge pranks. The thing was, that Terzo was easy to talk to, even as a moody teenager, and he always made Copia feel welcome to join in on whatever chaos he intended to cause. Secundo grumbled a lot, but he never told Copia to fuck off, and despite constantly acting like he had a grucifix stuck up his ass was always delighted to talk about music. And Primo… Primo was more of a father to his brothers than Nihil ever was, and he made sure to include Copia in picnics and game nights whenever he could.
While Copia remembered that period of his life to be pleasant he didn’t forget that it ended rather abruptly, when one day Imperator took a sudden interest in him again. It almost seemed like an act of jealousy at first, but then she started burdening Copia with various tasks from doing taxes, taking inventory, and running various errands around the Ministry. His work started to pile up, and it made it more and more difficult to interact with the Emeritus brothers outside of official business and sermons. By the time he felt like he had any semblance of free time he was already well into his thirties and realized that he had nothing to talk about with the Emeritus brothers anymore, so he made no effort to rekindle the childhood friendship he had with them.
So, in a way, the haunting is a good thing. He once again has regular interactions with the Emeritus brothers, despite the fact that they were definitely vengeful. They only hurt him once, and Copia was pretty sure that was Terzo, and in his defense Copia did pose with his severed head a few days prior to that incident, so it was only fair. Their presence become comforting over time, and Copia
Copia is more or less content. He always had someone at his back, and he grew into his role rather quickly. The crowd loves him, the ghouls love him, the siblings of sins love him. He still feels awkward, and he is admittedly not the best at holding conversations, but he feels pretty confident on stage. He’s still not allowed to do shit around the Ministry, or make his own decisions, but he decides to grab happiness by the balls and run with it.
And as always, somehow, someone below decides that things should go to shit once again.
Papa Nihil dies. And suddenly, out of nowhere Copia finds himself on stage, newly appointed as Papa Emeritus The Fourth. He has a few minutes to process it. He has a few moments to think that he will no longer be dragged around.
And then, after he goes backstage Sister Imperator looks at her with pride, kisses him on the forehead, and tells him that he is, and will be so much better than the Papas before him. She tells him that she really is his mother, that he is Nihil’s son, that she is sorry, and that she will elevate him above the filth that Nihil’s other sons were.
And as expected, Terzo acts before thinking. Copia watches Imperator’s letter opener float past her shoulders and bares his throat to accept the reminder that she should never trust her blindly. Copia knows it is not there to hurt him. The scar is thin and hurts less than the rage on Sister Imperator’s face.
The next day Copia watches his mother perform an exorcism and set up wards that will protect him from the spirits of the Emeritus brothers. Once he is alone in his room he pushes his finger into the thin scar on his throat and vows to never forget that letting himself become a puppet and putting his trust in the wrong people will kill him one day.
Then that night Papa Emeritus The Fourth weeps for the brothers he didn't know were his.
And of course Copia’s time as Papa does not go more smoothly. The amount of assholes he has to deal with does not become less, instead they start multiplying. He sees the High Clergy keeping an eye on him. He sees the cameras, and how Imperator’s ghouls follow him, how he never seems to be alone for more than a hour.
He decides to fight it with passive defiance, by becoming mellow, and uninteresting, and appearing clueless. They allow him to do taxes again, but he still doesn't have influence on anything meaningful, and says he's no longer interested, that he forgot how to do paperwork in the first place.
Meanwhile, he writes songs that sound like preparation for war. He summons his own ghouls, ones only loyal to him. He finds the corners of the Ministry building that have wards strong enough that keep Nihil away. He buys a gun.
His mother becomes more affectionate. She seems genuine, and seems genuinely sorry for neglecting him during his childhood, but frankly, Copia no longer cares. He plays along, and at one point begins to genuinely care about her in return, but he knows he will never be able to trust her again.
He sees that his time is about to end. He sees the four statues and the fifth, empty pedestal, the new, empty glass coffin, and he just knows he has to prepare for going down with a fight.
⛧⛧⛧
It turns out that Copia was absolutely fucking wrong.
At the last show his time as Papa does end, but instead of the execution he expects and even accepts by the end, he receives genuine affection from not only Sister Imperator, but even Nihil. He even calls Copia son. It's off-putting and weird, and leaves Copia feeling like he wants to crawl out of his skin
And then, when his mother dies he becomes Frater Imperator. Apparently his mother knows that he very much remembers how to do taxes, and was also aware that he spent his last few months frantically trying to prevent his own death that was never meant to happen. She just simply never bothered to tell him, like his mental well being was something they only kept an eye on and not a vital thing that literally anyone could’ve improved by having a three minute conversation with him.
And for obvious reasons, Copia is both pissed and also kind of grieving her asshole of a mother, despite the fact that her ghost is constantly trying to converse with him. She does give up eventually, tells Copia that she understands that he needs to sort out some things and stops bothering him.
And then, for the first time in a while Copia feels free.
He summons a handful of earth ghouls and assigns them to take care of Primo’s old garden, and tears down the wards Sister Imperator has set up. He hopes for the haunting to start again, but nothing happens. He finds it concerning, but his mother and father never comment on it. In fact they rarely appear to him, and when they do they both seem uncharacteristically proud. If Copia thinks about it, he would rather have them disappointed than know that they had to bring him to ruin several times to finally look at him with pride.
Sometimes when he walks into his office his paperwork is done, but he just assumes the ghouls who used to do paperwork just didn’t get the memo. The instruments around the Ministry are always tuned, and the flowers in the garden are doing better than they have in years, and Copia just can’t believe that things are going well for once.
Then one evening he sees a blue translucent figure from the corner of his eye, and continues down the corridor without a second thought. He really doesn’t want to deal with Nihil or Sister Imperator now. But then he sees not just one, but two figures appear out of thin air in front of him. The shapes look vague from a distance, but look nothing like the ghosts he is desperately trying to avoid. He turns and sees the third figure, much closer than the other two. And within seconds he is surrounded by the spirits of his brothers, and thinks, finally, that things might turn out alright for once.