"Brody is off limits," Apollo ignored his protests and excuses, because they weren't important. The only important things to be said today were the things Apollo needed to say. "If you come near him or his sister again..." he paused in thought, cogs turning in his head, and then Apollo smiled.
"You got some interesting information out of him though, didn't you?" he asked, glancing down at the timeline of his life. It was remarkable accurate– aside from Matteo Bulgari. Avery had missed the mark there, but only by a fraction; Matteo wasn't him, but Apollo had been fucking the portrait artist at the time. It was only natural that a few of Apollo's features found their way onto the face of the slightly less blessed (at least, face-wise) violinist. "Though only as far back at the eighteenth century? Disappointing. You could have reached way further."