Robert Lutece (iseeheads) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2014-05-26 16:27:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | penelope featherington, robert lutece |
Who: Robert Lutece (open to anyone who might be there)
When: May 25, around 8pm
Where: The Patio, 13th floor, Potts Tower
What: Robert is indulging in his melancholy
Rating: PG
Robert lounged in a chair on the patio of Potts Tower and sipped at the mug of tea he had brought up with him. He looked over the growing night skyline and felt... melancholy. Yes, that was the word. He felt melancholy and tonight he felt like indulging it. He didn’t often do so but a man was allowed to be selfish every now and then. Especially when he was missing his family. Because that was the source of his melancholy. He had barely spent more than a few hours apart from Rosalind since he had stepped through the tear into her reality. He had made many decisions in his life, some easy, some not so much, but that one had been the easiest decision of all. His parents were deceased, he’d had few friends and his professional future had looked… dull. Rosalind had offered family and a professional life full of interest and excitement. Even the headaches and nosebleeds as his mind had adjusted and created new memories had been such an infinitely small price to pay for what he had gained. But now he was alone again and despite all his threats to Rosalind when he’d decided on his course of action with Booker deWitt, he’d never truly wanted to be apart from her. How could he? She was he and he was she. They used brother and sister as a descriptor, to be sure, but that was only because others wouldn’t understand the depth of their relationship. How many people ever got the opportunity to spend their life with the perfect person – themselves? It had been a joy, not a disappointment, to find that even though they were the same person that they were still different. The different circumstances of their lives, their differing genders, had taken the same genetics and produced two different yet entirely complimentary people. He felt oddly incomplete now. Still, he shouldn’t complain. He had a lovely apartment and he and Tony Stark had come to a satisfactory agreement regarding his work. He rather liked Stark. He was voluble and erratic but from what he had seen of the repulsor technology, Stark was also highly intelligent. Working for Stark would be an entirely different kettle of fish to working with Comstock and Robert was of the opinion it would be far more satisfactory. Certainly it seemed likely that there would be less in the way of hysterical accusations and sabotage. He snorted as he sipped his tea. As if his sister would be attracted to Comstock. The very idea was ludicrous but he could vaguely understand the logic path that had led Lady Comstock to their doorway. The child had to have come from somewhere, after all, since she certainly hadn’t come from Lady Comstock’s womb. The lady had correctly traced the path to them but had not been able to make the final leap to the truth of the matter. But then she had not been a part of their work so it was perhaps unfair to expect her to make such a leap. He had sought out answers on the internet here about whether deWitt had made his own leap of logic to reach the conclusion needed to solve the problem of Columbia and Zachary Comstock. He had been relieved to find that he had. It had only taken 123 attempts. He wondered if the number was significant in any way. Probably not but it would be an interesting puzzle to figure out. Robert chuckled softly. His thoughts truly were scattered tonight, no doubt a result of his wallowing in melancholy. Rosalind would have twitted and teased him thoroughly were she here. It was just as well he was only allowing himself this evening for that melancholy. He’d be useless to everyone if he allowed it to continue beyond this single evening. |