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cutsthestringsLouis sat in his office, the gentle swaying of the ocean beneath the Vainglorious almost lulling in its regularity.
I should be some sort of comic book villain, he thought to himself as one hand shuffled his tumbler of ridiculously expensive water on the surface of his desk. He longed for a bit of whiskey, some bourbon, something good and alcoholic, but that had proved disastrous not long ago and he was still smarting from the 'honor' the Board had placed upon him by interrupting his party and having their meeting on his boat.
The other hand was busy stroking Amberflaxus, his cat, the closest thing to a friend he could say he had, which was what had prompted the thought in the first place. He glanced down at the pages on his desk and sighed out deeply at what he saw.
Apparently, Audrey was sending the children away to school.
Some part of him, and he wasn't quite sure if it was the part that had been mortal or the part which had spawned the legal profession, was annoyed. There she went again, making decisions without him, acting as if he was dead when he really should have some kind of say. Whatever foolish pronouncements the League wanted to put out, they were still half Infernal. Still half his.
The other part wondered if this might not be an opportunity, if there wouldn't be some chance to talk to the children, see them, convince them to give his side of things a chance. After all, both sides of their lineage were made of nothing but predators. At least his side of things was honest about it.
"As honest as a sucking chestwound..." he murmured, putting one hand thoughtfully to his own breast. Not that there was really anything there to protect anymore; Audrey had done her job well, as one might expect, and even Beal's power coursing through him, helping him to regain his former glory, could not replace what she had cut from him.
And yet the issue remained. His children. How he felt for them. What he planned for them. Whether his interest in them was purely in what they could do for him, or some sort of paternal caring. He had only felt so conflicted one time before, and what had come after that certainly wasn't something he wanted to repeat.
After all, being hurled headlong flaming into a lake of blue fire wasn't exactly what one might consider a 'good time'.
But there was Eliot. And Fiona. Each of them something new, something special, something that was both and neither, a pair of brilliant diamonds in a case of lesser jewels. He knew he would use them, but unlike before all this had happened, during his long centuries of scheming and deceiving and being the very best at being the very worst, he wasn't sure what he'd use them for.
Power, obviously. But power to do what? Why? And how far would he push them? How far could he go with his own children? Did he have a limit? And how did he feel about that, when he'd never had one before?
He wasn't sure. And he hated that he wasn't sure.
Louis took a long sip of his expensive water, doing his best not to will it into bourbon (though it would have been a lovely sort of blasphemy, he noted to himself) and closed his eyes.
Which, of course, led to one of his subordinates trooping through the door a moment later.
"News."
One blue eye opened, willing the man to get on with it. He was a mercenary, one of his lesser soldiers, but a man who got a job done and made sure it stayed done. He'd killed any number of men over the years, never sustaining an injury himself, and when he'd finally passed, Louis had been glad he was once more in a position to collect what was owed to him.
"Only one of the Post children will be going to the Paxington Institute," he said as he put the papers down on the desk over everything else, "the other is going to..." the man tilted his head to read his own writing "someplace called 'Fandom High'."
[ooc: NFB, NFI, but OOC is always welcome ^_^;;; oh god, only one more I promise!]
I should be some sort of comic book villain, he thought to himself as one hand shuffled his tumbler of ridiculously expensive water on the surface of his desk. He longed for a bit of whiskey, some bourbon, something good and alcoholic, but that had proved disastrous not long ago and he was still smarting from the 'honor' the Board had placed upon him by interrupting his party and having their meeting on his boat.
The other hand was busy stroking Amberflaxus, his cat, the closest thing to a friend he could say he had, which was what had prompted the thought in the first place. He glanced down at the pages on his desk and sighed out deeply at what he saw.
Apparently, Audrey was sending the children away to school.
Some part of him, and he wasn't quite sure if it was the part that had been mortal or the part which had spawned the legal profession, was annoyed. There she went again, making decisions without him, acting as if he was dead when he really should have some kind of say. Whatever foolish pronouncements the League wanted to put out, they were still half Infernal. Still half his.
The other part wondered if this might not be an opportunity, if there wouldn't be some chance to talk to the children, see them, convince them to give his side of things a chance. After all, both sides of their lineage were made of nothing but predators. At least his side of things was honest about it.
"As honest as a sucking chestwound..." he murmured, putting one hand thoughtfully to his own breast. Not that there was really anything there to protect anymore; Audrey had done her job well, as one might expect, and even Beal's power coursing through him, helping him to regain his former glory, could not replace what she had cut from him.
And yet the issue remained. His children. How he felt for them. What he planned for them. Whether his interest in them was purely in what they could do for him, or some sort of paternal caring. He had only felt so conflicted one time before, and what had come after that certainly wasn't something he wanted to repeat.
After all, being hurled headlong flaming into a lake of blue fire wasn't exactly what one might consider a 'good time'.
But there was Eliot. And Fiona. Each of them something new, something special, something that was both and neither, a pair of brilliant diamonds in a case of lesser jewels. He knew he would use them, but unlike before all this had happened, during his long centuries of scheming and deceiving and being the very best at being the very worst, he wasn't sure what he'd use them for.
Power, obviously. But power to do what? Why? And how far would he push them? How far could he go with his own children? Did he have a limit? And how did he feel about that, when he'd never had one before?
He wasn't sure. And he hated that he wasn't sure.
Louis took a long sip of his expensive water, doing his best not to will it into bourbon (though it would have been a lovely sort of blasphemy, he noted to himself) and closed his eyes.
Which, of course, led to one of his subordinates trooping through the door a moment later.
"News."
One blue eye opened, willing the man to get on with it. He was a mercenary, one of his lesser soldiers, but a man who got a job done and made sure it stayed done. He'd killed any number of men over the years, never sustaining an injury himself, and when he'd finally passed, Louis had been glad he was once more in a position to collect what was owed to him.
"Only one of the Post children will be going to the Paxington Institute," he said as he put the papers down on the desk over everything else, "the other is going to..." the man tilted his head to read his own writing "someplace called 'Fandom High'."
[ooc: NFB, NFI, but OOC is always welcome ^_^;;; oh god, only one more I promise!]
