victorvon_doom (victorvon_doom) wrote in newalliance, @ 2015-06-14 23:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | cyclone, doom |
Who: Victor von Doom, NPC Kristoff, then Maxine
Where: Doomstadt, Latveria
When: 6/13/15 (little back)
What: Doom gives Kristoff a controversial order.
Rating: PG
It was really Pepper’s fault that Victor was staring at Kristoff while they ate dinner. He was simply being reminiscent, absorbed in past scenes. Kristoff had been designing robotics by the time he was nine, often laying on his belly by Doom's seat in court. He would code or carefully solder wires and circuits with his lip tightly pursed. Doom had been known to halt the entire court just to lean over and point out that Kristoff needed to ground certain wires. It was all quietly noted, dictating the boy away from frustration or injury, then resuming court as though nothing had happened. Sometimes Kristoff would burn himself, and Doom would drop his gauntlet to one side, continuing to listen to his court even while healing the forming blisters. Then Kristoff, wordless, would go back to work, trying so very hard not to repeat the same mistake. Trying so very hard not to disturb his father, to not be anything less than perfect for him.
Perfection. They were both driven toward perfection. It didn’t matter that Kristoff was actually of Reed’s despicable bloodline. He was Latverian, intelligent, composed, thorough, dedicated, loyal, and just like Doom he could not stand to be imperfect. (He just did not have Victor’s overwhelming ego and temper when facing his mistakes.)
Kristoff of course noticed he was being stared at, and did all he could not to fidget under the scrutiny. Instead he simply dined with the most eloquent of motions. His chin was even but his eyes lowered to his plate. Again, doing all he could do to be perfect.
Doom spoke in Latverian. Of course they always did amongst themselves. “The medical device that you are selling to Wayne Corporation--it’s going well?”
“Very,” Kristoff said, fork setting down with the sliver of medium rare beef still on it. “They are still performing all the testing to market it, but the prognosis is very hopeful. Soon stroke victims should be able to enjoy restoration of their brain function abroad just as our Latverian citizens do.”
“You do not need to be involved in that process heavily?”
Kristoff finished chewing and swallowing his sliver of steak. “No, sire.”
“Good. I need you to rule Latveria for a time.”
Kristoff’s hands froze, knife and fork having only partially severed another small bite from the petite steak. Doom ate a bite, chewing without hesitation and sipping his wine. It was a small voice that finally ventured the question. “My Liege?”
“I will be busy with other tasks. In the meantime no one will be aware you are the one truly ruling right now. You will use the voice modifier and the suit designed specifically for you to hold court and dictate the country. I will turn over more of the administration functions to you.”
“I don’t…” Kristoff stopped, searching mentally for the correct words. “I’m not sure if I am fit to do so.” When the dictator continued eating without concern to this statement, he finally ventured forward another question. “How long?”
“To be determined.”
“My other obligations-”
“NONE are more important than your country.” The candles fluttered like moth wings caught in a spider web briefly. The silence at the heavy wooden table and tapestry-draped stone walls was strung with tension.
It wasn’t until Victor von Doom resumed eating that Kristoff spoke again. “When do you wish me to fully resume this responsibility?”
“Tomorrow morning."
"May I be allowed to use the rest of the day and night to see to a few affairs?"
"Affairs." Doom practically snort the word, edged with bitter metal. "You mean you wish to inform Ms. Hunkel?" Kristoff lowered his chin an inch, those intelligent dark eyes processing that. He had the answer by the time Doctor Doom resumed speaking, dismay etching into his tightly controlled features. "I have already told you, no one will know. That includes her. While you rule here, you must remain here."
"...For an indefinite amount of time."
"I suspect it will be some months."
"Father, she will not understa-"
"It is NOT a REQUEST." Doom immediately sat back, wine pulled with him, though he didn't drink, simply swirled the contents. "You will have to inform her that your obligations will delay your relationship for an indefinite time."
Kristoff was silent, mouth opening, closing. He was no longer the least bit interested in his food. He sat with his wrists immobile on the table edge, as though poised to continue dining, but truthfully forgotten.
"Clear?"
"You want me to break up with her."
"Yes."
Something was bending and breaking behind those eyes, though his features remaining only edged with the inner turmoil, no true manifestation crossing his face. "Do you truly disapprove of us so much?"
Doom's eyes narrowed behind that grimacing mask. "You think this order is to simply separate you two? It is not. If I wanted to make you two part ways, you would have been ordered to do so at the first. I have been displeased with her distracting you from your duties and keeping you away from Latveria for such lengths of time, but you have seemed..." He searched mentally for the proper word till using the obvious one. "Happier with her. However, unless the young woman is officially engaged to you, which I would know, or you two have not been careful with the use of contraceptives, this is how it will be."
"And it's not a request," Kristoff said. He was trying to control his tone, but the bitterness was there. There was also another look that took Victor a few more seconds of study to recognize.
He looked betrayed.
Maxine Hunkel had changed his son a great deal, more than Victor had realized, but with observation of that look was beginning to understand. I do tend to underestimate that young woman, it seems. This will be best.
So he pushed his empty plate away, a bot coming and taking both his and Kristoff's dishes away. More wine was brought. Kristoff had lowered his gaze, trying to control his breathing and the flex of his jaw, his wrists still resting on the table edge and looking at the empty place where his plate had been.
"Normally I simply expect your loyalty. It appears I need to assure you of the importance of my plans. So I will tell you why this time is needed." A fire seemed to flicker in Doom's eyes. "After I have explained this thoroughly, I will not suffer you to question Doom's judgement on this matter again."
So he spoke, and Kristoff silently listened and sipped at his wine. At the end Kristoff was no longer angry, but looked even more conflicted. The candles were burning much lower by the time Doom's adopted son pushed away from the table, standing rod straight and bowing low.
"I will see to my affairs tonight, my liege."
Doom gave him a single nod and watched him leave, then sipped his own wine thoughtfully, his mind focused on a myriad of possibilities and subjects.
Almost perfect...