Miranda (admiredmiranda) wrote in nevermore_au, @ 2013-10-21 23:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | hermes, miranda lowsley, peitho |
WHO: Miranda, Peitho, Hermes
WHERE: Their apartment
WHAT: Mobster AU! Miranda is the Good Granddaughter.
WARNINGS:
Although they didn't argue, Miranda and her mother didn't often see eye to eye on things. While Erica had happily worked for Hermes for many years, it was only when her daughters were getting older than she agreed to listen to her husband and remove them from the somewhat toxic environment Hermes had created. Miranda was sure, on some level, that Erica missed it - but if that was the case, Erica never admitted to much.
Miranda loved it though. She loved the position she'd taken up for her father, working on the import, sale, and forgery of artifacts. Some might call it smuggling. Some would be right.
She went by Miranda Monroe and those she met in business knew her as the daughter of Heath Monroe. Daughter was much more believable than granddaughter and, besides, Miranda rather liked being his daughter. She felt like she understood Hermes and his wives - Hecate who was protective and beautiful and strong; Peitho who was lavish and adoring and indulgent.
It was Peitho who opened the door to Hermes' apartment today and drew Miranda inside. "Yes," she said, as though they were continuing an earlier conversation. "I was completely right. That cerulean is perfect on you."
Miranda never bought clothes. She wasn't all that fashion savvy to begin with, and Peitho seemed to delight in constantly sending her designer items to wear. She told Miranda it was only fitting - with her high position in Hermes' staff - for her to look amazing at all times. ("Men get so intimidated by a woman in a $5000 suit," she told Miranda one day as she dragged her into a fitting at Gucci.)
"Hermes isn't home yet," Peitho said as she drew her towards the bar and poured her a drink. "But I'm sure he's not far. How was your trip?"
"Algeria is hotter than anywhere should be," Miranda said, sitting down on a barstool. "But I talked to the people that needed to be talked to, and convinced certain authorities to allow certain activities."
"Then cheers," Peitho said, clinking her glass to Miranda's. "Let's drink to a job well done."
As far as Miranda could tell, Peitho didn't do anything at all. She ran some sort of porn website that Miranda prefered not to know the details about, but mostly she seemed to just lounge around the apartment when she wasn't shopping or seducing strangers. Miranda's own penthouse apartment was in the building across the street, and sometimes she would see Peitho moving from room to room in a lacy over-gown, drink in hand.
Although, when Miranda considered it, that didn't seem exactly a terrible life. Maybe a less active role in her grandfather's organisation would lead to less international late nights, less death threats, and less police tails. All of which could be a nice change.
But, Miranda reasoned, she was who she was and she enjoyed what she did.