Dr. Kristoff Vernard (von Doom) (sonandsubject) wrote in newalliance, @ 2012-11-06 05:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | cyclone, doom, kristoff |
Visits of a different kind
Who: Kristoff. Open to Doom or to calls.
When: November 6, 2012
Where: Doomstadt, Latveria
What: Kristoff makes another trip home.
Rating: PG.
He'd come alone, this time. He had no intention of taking Maxine to Latveria again so soon. But this time of year... he had to be there. He landed his jet on the opposite side of town from where he needed to be, just so he could walk through the streets and reflect. No one got in his way, of course. He wondered if they knew why he'd come, or could merely tell the Young Master was in no mood for conversation, if they'd blocked those days out of their minds. He hoped they had. He would never wish these thoughts on the rest of their people.
And on he walked, until he reached the edge of town, where the gypsy funeral grounds were. There wasn't another living person in earshot; so he could speak as he liked as he knelt beside the old oak tree.
"Hello, Mama. I am well."
Mirela Vernard had been dead for a dozen years, shot in the back in the autumn chill of the public square, holding her sovereign's hands as she tried to explain what had been happening, how much they needed him, how she knew everything would be all right now that he was back.
"They say I will probably get a Fields Medal -- that's a prize for being good at math. I will be the youngest since, well, since Dr. Richards. That will be nice. More importantly, I may be getting some of my medical work out to other countries. The world should have the best, you know." Kristoff absolutely agreed with his Father on that, even if there was sometimes ... minor debate on the most appropriate means to give the world superior quality.
"Maxine... we are trying. She is wonderful, Mama; I know you would have liked her. I know He really does, though he will not say it." He paused, and swallowed. "It seems he does not say a lot of things. Not to me."