[He could deal with the insinuation or overt discussion of his lack of birthright in most cases, though he wasn't above bringing a high born low either. They had their uses and much like the Undercity, they all had their price. It was a matter of discovering what sort of illicit activities they wanted and needed and providing an avenue. He didn't want a crown, didn't want to be king, and he certainly didn't normally care about receiving advice.
However, he was tired from a chronic lack of sleep, perhaps made worse by a diet of cigars and whiskey. He was continuing on in a way with business as usual on the outside, but he'd let the mask slip here.
He'd also definitely undersold the 'ally' portion of the tale of his death. After all, Jinx was his world, especially here, and he was building an empire to pass down to her whether she continued with its productivity or burned it to the ground. Certainly, he took pleasure in it, but Jinx having such a strong revulsion to his death - and he assumed the sister had actually died too but hadn't confirmed - had left a big hole where his attention and focus normally was. It wasn't as if he had friends, allies or even many enemies here; he was playing it safe because this place provided him an avenue to get what he wanted without the usual tactics.
He had reports of Jinx's activities, of course. She might not be speaking to him, but he made himself available and kept tabs on her. If this was a longer-than-usual-silent-treatment, he hadn't decided how he was going to focus himself. Currently, he apparently was out here watching Richard plug arrows into a tree. Better than contemplating both the trauma he was still grappling with and the temporary loss of his daughter.
He tugged the collar of his shirt back up over most of the bruising; he wondered if everyone showed injuries when they returned or if it was the place's special reminder to him alone. His attention shifted as the younger man approached as he straightened his tie again, pausing when he felt the warmth of Richard's fingers on his own nor how his collar was drawn back down.]
Is dying ever worth it? The only bright spot was making her pay with her own life. [He assumed.] I would have gone far in that tower if not for that one occupant. It's a moot point. I died and I still have the same question in my head: have I had enough?
no subject
However, he was tired from a chronic lack of sleep, perhaps made worse by a diet of cigars and whiskey. He was continuing on in a way with business as usual on the outside, but he'd let the mask slip here.
He'd also definitely undersold the 'ally' portion of the tale of his death. After all, Jinx was his world, especially here, and he was building an empire to pass down to her whether she continued with its productivity or burned it to the ground. Certainly, he took pleasure in it, but Jinx having such a strong revulsion to his death - and he assumed the sister had actually died too but hadn't confirmed - had left a big hole where his attention and focus normally was. It wasn't as if he had friends, allies or even many enemies here; he was playing it safe because this place provided him an avenue to get what he wanted without the usual tactics.
He had reports of Jinx's activities, of course. She might not be speaking to him, but he made himself available and kept tabs on her. If this was a longer-than-usual-silent-treatment, he hadn't decided how he was going to focus himself. Currently, he apparently was out here watching Richard plug arrows into a tree. Better than contemplating both the trauma he was still grappling with and the temporary loss of his daughter.
He tugged the collar of his shirt back up over most of the bruising; he wondered if everyone showed injuries when they returned or if it was the place's special reminder to him alone. His attention shifted as the younger man approached as he straightened his tie again, pausing when he felt the warmth of Richard's fingers on his own nor how his collar was drawn back down.]
Is dying ever worth it? The only bright spot was making her pay with her own life. [He assumed.] I would have gone far in that tower if not for that one occupant. It's a moot point. I died and I still have the same question in my head: have I had enough?