Paris part 1
5/28/05 07:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyI think I might post it all today, depending on whether RL will let me. so anyhoo, thanks to the Goddess of OMG, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mkitty_03 it starts here.
The carriage swayed slightly as it rolled swiftly over the cobbled road, and it’s passenger was tilted against the door. He had to make a conscious effort to keep his hands from clasping together nervously and tried to distract himself by staring out of the streaked glass windows. In the weak pools of brassy light the gas lamps threw on the wet cobbles he watched thin snakes of mist coiling up into the air, shivered as the chill air leaked in under his collar. He pulled it higher and tighter around his neck and wished that he’d brought a muffler. It was a wretched cold night, too nasty to be about but when his father demanded his presence he had no choice but to obey. He sighed and rested his chin on his knuckles. What the man wanted was a mystery, why he called him to dine with him was a puzzle. He thought—he’d hoped---Father would be too busy with his newly discovered or rather re-discovered bastard half brother to continue interfering with his life.
When Father had brought the uncouth brute home, he’d been appalled. He was expected to accept this—this crude person as a Luthor? He’d been astounded that Father was actually going to publicly acknowledge the unkempt ruffian. He’d had no manners, no schooling, he was dirty and rough as a common street arab.
As time went by, and he was less and less under the lash of his father’s tongue, less the object of his painful scrutiny, he realized Lucas was in fact a blessing and he came to be extremely grateful. Without his father’s expectations weighing him down he was able to return to his studies in astronomy, something that had fascinated him since childhood.
When he was a child, meteoroids that seemed to have strange properties fell from the sky, and he would never forget the horror of being trapped in the fall. He was blessed not to have lost his life as many had that day--though he could never prove it, he thought his change in appearance and the improvement in his delicate health had a connection to those unusual rocks. Since that time, he was fascinated by the heavens and the science involved in discovering more about the vast unknown. The academic life was ideal for him. It was a life of nearly monastic dedication to learning for Lex and he was quite comfortable. His theories were met by his peers with interest and informed acceptance or disagreed with in an intellectual and civilized manner--not a gruff “You’re an idiot,” or derisive laughter. His face burned as he thought of the many times his father impugned his capabilities, or insulted him physically as well as mentally.
He sat ramrod straight as the carriage came closer to the Luthor residence. He squared his shoulders and settled a look of indifference on his face and determined to ignore the fact that his heart beat faster and his mouth was drier than cotton. He blinked rapidly and coughed once or twice, set the top hat on his head and smoothed his kid gloves on and smirked. He felt a little like a knight of olden days donning armor to face a dragon.
The carriage rocked to a stop and Lex waited for the driver to come around and open the door. The coachman gave him a look of sympathy as he opened the door and unfolded the step; a small smile flickered over his face. The man had been with his father for years and years, known him since he was a small boy, knew him before the bizarre accident that robbed him of his hair…he was almost a friend. He was certainly a very kind man. Lex smiled at him as he stepped to the road and the man steadied his arm.
“Watch yourself, Mr. Luthor, sir, the road is wicked wet and slippery from this damn mist,” he growled, and took the liberty to pat him gently on the back. He smiled at the man gratefully—glad Father wasn’t here to see it. Father hated when he treated the servants as equals, he was so bound up in an outmoded class system, his mindset was still that of some medieval baron.
He tapped the heavy brass knocker against the door and it opened immediately, an ancient gray mummy of a man stood in the doorway, looking at him sourly.
“Good evening, Mister Luthor…sir.” His voice creaked out of a wrinkled pursed mouth and Lex swore he saw dust puff out of his lips as he spoke. He took Lex’s coat and hat with a palsied hand and a look as if he were handling refuse.
“Gerald,” he responded and pushed past the wizened old bastard. Why the man hated him he didn’t know and could care less—but he always had. This servant he had no problem treating as Father thought you should treat an underling. He imagined tripping him and Gerald exploding in a cloud of moldering dust. He smiled—it was a most satisfying image.
Amazingly swift for an ancient wreck, Gerald was ahead of him and announcing his presence to the company within.
“Master Lionel…it is Master Alexander, sir, “ he wheezed out and Lex waited expectantly and hopefully for him to have a massive heart attack from the exertion, but disappointingly, he simply sneered at him and tottered away.
Lex smiled and listened to his receding footsteps. Ah well. Better luck next time, he thought.
He studied the electric lights his father had installed recently with great interest as he strolled in the room. It was fascinating, the way they lit every corner of the study in a most amazing way, he thought, and his father smirked as he watched him examine the lights.
“Interesting, is it not? This is the wave of the future, Alexander. We’re planning to invest heavily in the new power companies, and not only will we be…financially quite comfortable,” he paused and smiled at Lucas who held his glass up to him and smirked back, “We’ll be in a position to control—why, the entire city, perhaps the country.”
Lex dropped into an empty chair and smiled. “Dream big, Father. No dream is worthy of a Luthor unless it’s on a grand scale.”
“I’m impressed that you remember anything I say, Alexander.”
He waited while a young servant poured a liberal splash of brandy into a snifter for him, warmed it with his hands before releasing it to him. He couldn’t help but notice the slim elegant fingers cradling the glass. His father was talking about something that he missed, distracted as he was by the young man but when he looked up, he caught Lucas’ eye on him. Lucas never missed a thing. The smile he wore made Lex blush. bastard Lucas grinned as though he read his mind.
“Now, to the business at hand. You are aware that I belong to an organization of like minded business men, concerned men who have accepted the necessity of guiding the growth of progress in the world?”
Lex nodded and decided his father in his usual pompous way was telling him he was a member of some secret organization—no doubt some boring version of the Masons or what not. He sipped brandy to cover a yawn of boredom.
“You and Lucas have been invited to join, and mind you, it’s a singular honor.” Father looks absolutely like a cat in cream Lex thought to himself. He snuck a glance at Lucas and a look of dull boredom darkened his sensual features.
He looked over at Lex and smiled, slow and…Lex shivered. There were moments when Lucas projected—something. Something that uncoiled and slithered into one’s mind like a snake, stirring up thoughts that Lex would rather leave unexamined—he’d devoted his life to science since he was a boy. He’d never desired the experiences of the flesh. Desire was a distraction that a true academic put away—like a hermit. He daily ignored the call—that he had never been offered the opportunity to deny it was an irony not lost on him.
“You are coming with me tonight Alexander. You and Lucas. Think of this as… your coming out to society.”
He chuckled and Lucas laughed. Lex shivered again. He had a bad feeling about this—a very bad feeling. He glanced at his father and he felt an uncomfortable shrinking sensation in his chest. He knew that there’d be no denying him. Perhaps if he did this and pleased Father—impossible as that was, may be that he could negotiate with him—convince Father to settle the plans he held for him on Lucas instead. If Lucas was accepted by society—the people that mattered rather, then Father would have an heir who was certainly more in tune with his…ways.
Lex closed his eyes briefly as an inexplicable wave of cold nausea swept him. Sometimes he thought it was impossible that he could be related to a family whose interests were so wildly divergent from his own.
Father called for the carriage to be brought around again, and after fussing over them both, adjusting and smoothing lapels and running his hands through Lucas hair, settling it in place—he stopped in front of Lex and eyed him with scorn. “I suppose it must be a blessing not to have to worry about hair, hmm?”
Lex blushed fiercely, anger staining his cheeks and neck deep red…he stared at his father’s shoulder length salt and pepper hair, and strained to remain expressionless.
His father chuckled and walked away and Lucas came to stand next to him. He stood so close Lex could feel the heat of his body against his side.
“He doesn’t mean to be thoughtless…or maybe he does,” Lucas said, his lips brushed over his ear as he spoke, warm breath washing against his throat and cheek. Lex swallowed a little hiccup of sound and Lucas asked, his voice an insinuating drawl, “So—are you? Hairless, I mean…all over…” and then he slid a hand lightly along his thigh, barely making contact, but to Lex’s touch deprived skin it was enough to make it shiver on his bones. He railed silently in his mind against his wretched cursed body and wrenched away from Lucas, cursing himself also for showing how much that simple action rattled him.
Lucas chuckled, sounding horribly like Father and walked after the man. Lex walked behind, straining to appear calm and unaffected. I wish oh, how I wish, they’d both just go to hell.
After a short and for Lex, unbearably tense ride, they arrived at one of the finer homes in the city, a home known as a center of the social life in the city. It was impressive; it’s architecture in the Georgian manner. Beautifully proportioned columns framed either side of double leaded glass doors, and electric lights burned on each one. Lights stood in each of the long windows; boys holding oil lamps lined the long path of the curved driveway. Liveried footmen dashed about directing carriages, leading horses and helping the guests step down. Lex began to feel a little thrill of excitement despite himself. He could hear music coming from the open doors leading to a large marble foyer. He smelled cigar smoke and heard laughter, and the smell of spirits and fine food wafted on the air.
They stepped inside and the music was louder, the smell of fragrant smoke stronger. Lucas grinned and went to a side table, helped himself to a cigar. His father stood by, intently watching a young boy in livery light a cigar for him.
The boy’s tongue darted out and wet his pink lips before they wrapped around the end and rolled the cigar between his lips. He held a burning taper to the end, puffed until it caught with a glow. He inhaled, exhaled and his lips tightened and relaxed around the round length of cigar and Lex felt as though he’d been holding his breath and he felt oddly hot. The boy presented the cigar to Lionel, a thin tendril of smoke leaked from his lips and he smiled before bowing and melting into the crowd. His father turned and caught him staring—and winked at him. He held his arms out to Lex and Lucas and called out to them in a hearty voice.
“Come along boys, come along.”
tbc, my dearest little ones.
mkitty_03 it starts here.The carriage swayed slightly as it rolled swiftly over the cobbled road, and it’s passenger was tilted against the door. He had to make a conscious effort to keep his hands from clasping together nervously and tried to distract himself by staring out of the streaked glass windows. In the weak pools of brassy light the gas lamps threw on the wet cobbles he watched thin snakes of mist coiling up into the air, shivered as the chill air leaked in under his collar. He pulled it higher and tighter around his neck and wished that he’d brought a muffler. It was a wretched cold night, too nasty to be about but when his father demanded his presence he had no choice but to obey. He sighed and rested his chin on his knuckles. What the man wanted was a mystery, why he called him to dine with him was a puzzle. He thought—he’d hoped---Father would be too busy with his newly discovered or rather re-discovered bastard half brother to continue interfering with his life.
When Father had brought the uncouth brute home, he’d been appalled. He was expected to accept this—this crude person as a Luthor? He’d been astounded that Father was actually going to publicly acknowledge the unkempt ruffian. He’d had no manners, no schooling, he was dirty and rough as a common street arab.
As time went by, and he was less and less under the lash of his father’s tongue, less the object of his painful scrutiny, he realized Lucas was in fact a blessing and he came to be extremely grateful. Without his father’s expectations weighing him down he was able to return to his studies in astronomy, something that had fascinated him since childhood.
When he was a child, meteoroids that seemed to have strange properties fell from the sky, and he would never forget the horror of being trapped in the fall. He was blessed not to have lost his life as many had that day--though he could never prove it, he thought his change in appearance and the improvement in his delicate health had a connection to those unusual rocks. Since that time, he was fascinated by the heavens and the science involved in discovering more about the vast unknown. The academic life was ideal for him. It was a life of nearly monastic dedication to learning for Lex and he was quite comfortable. His theories were met by his peers with interest and informed acceptance or disagreed with in an intellectual and civilized manner--not a gruff “You’re an idiot,” or derisive laughter. His face burned as he thought of the many times his father impugned his capabilities, or insulted him physically as well as mentally.
He sat ramrod straight as the carriage came closer to the Luthor residence. He squared his shoulders and settled a look of indifference on his face and determined to ignore the fact that his heart beat faster and his mouth was drier than cotton. He blinked rapidly and coughed once or twice, set the top hat on his head and smoothed his kid gloves on and smirked. He felt a little like a knight of olden days donning armor to face a dragon.
The carriage rocked to a stop and Lex waited for the driver to come around and open the door. The coachman gave him a look of sympathy as he opened the door and unfolded the step; a small smile flickered over his face. The man had been with his father for years and years, known him since he was a small boy, knew him before the bizarre accident that robbed him of his hair…he was almost a friend. He was certainly a very kind man. Lex smiled at him as he stepped to the road and the man steadied his arm.
“Watch yourself, Mr. Luthor, sir, the road is wicked wet and slippery from this damn mist,” he growled, and took the liberty to pat him gently on the back. He smiled at the man gratefully—glad Father wasn’t here to see it. Father hated when he treated the servants as equals, he was so bound up in an outmoded class system, his mindset was still that of some medieval baron.
He tapped the heavy brass knocker against the door and it opened immediately, an ancient gray mummy of a man stood in the doorway, looking at him sourly.
“Good evening, Mister Luthor…sir.” His voice creaked out of a wrinkled pursed mouth and Lex swore he saw dust puff out of his lips as he spoke. He took Lex’s coat and hat with a palsied hand and a look as if he were handling refuse.
“Gerald,” he responded and pushed past the wizened old bastard. Why the man hated him he didn’t know and could care less—but he always had. This servant he had no problem treating as Father thought you should treat an underling. He imagined tripping him and Gerald exploding in a cloud of moldering dust. He smiled—it was a most satisfying image.
Amazingly swift for an ancient wreck, Gerald was ahead of him and announcing his presence to the company within.
“Master Lionel…it is Master Alexander, sir, “ he wheezed out and Lex waited expectantly and hopefully for him to have a massive heart attack from the exertion, but disappointingly, he simply sneered at him and tottered away.
Lex smiled and listened to his receding footsteps. Ah well. Better luck next time, he thought.
He studied the electric lights his father had installed recently with great interest as he strolled in the room. It was fascinating, the way they lit every corner of the study in a most amazing way, he thought, and his father smirked as he watched him examine the lights.
“Interesting, is it not? This is the wave of the future, Alexander. We’re planning to invest heavily in the new power companies, and not only will we be…financially quite comfortable,” he paused and smiled at Lucas who held his glass up to him and smirked back, “We’ll be in a position to control—why, the entire city, perhaps the country.”
Lex dropped into an empty chair and smiled. “Dream big, Father. No dream is worthy of a Luthor unless it’s on a grand scale.”
“I’m impressed that you remember anything I say, Alexander.”
He waited while a young servant poured a liberal splash of brandy into a snifter for him, warmed it with his hands before releasing it to him. He couldn’t help but notice the slim elegant fingers cradling the glass. His father was talking about something that he missed, distracted as he was by the young man but when he looked up, he caught Lucas’ eye on him. Lucas never missed a thing. The smile he wore made Lex blush. bastard Lucas grinned as though he read his mind.
“Now, to the business at hand. You are aware that I belong to an organization of like minded business men, concerned men who have accepted the necessity of guiding the growth of progress in the world?”
Lex nodded and decided his father in his usual pompous way was telling him he was a member of some secret organization—no doubt some boring version of the Masons or what not. He sipped brandy to cover a yawn of boredom.
“You and Lucas have been invited to join, and mind you, it’s a singular honor.” Father looks absolutely like a cat in cream Lex thought to himself. He snuck a glance at Lucas and a look of dull boredom darkened his sensual features.
He looked over at Lex and smiled, slow and…Lex shivered. There were moments when Lucas projected—something. Something that uncoiled and slithered into one’s mind like a snake, stirring up thoughts that Lex would rather leave unexamined—he’d devoted his life to science since he was a boy. He’d never desired the experiences of the flesh. Desire was a distraction that a true academic put away—like a hermit. He daily ignored the call—that he had never been offered the opportunity to deny it was an irony not lost on him.
“You are coming with me tonight Alexander. You and Lucas. Think of this as… your coming out to society.”
He chuckled and Lucas laughed. Lex shivered again. He had a bad feeling about this—a very bad feeling. He glanced at his father and he felt an uncomfortable shrinking sensation in his chest. He knew that there’d be no denying him. Perhaps if he did this and pleased Father—impossible as that was, may be that he could negotiate with him—convince Father to settle the plans he held for him on Lucas instead. If Lucas was accepted by society—the people that mattered rather, then Father would have an heir who was certainly more in tune with his…ways.
Lex closed his eyes briefly as an inexplicable wave of cold nausea swept him. Sometimes he thought it was impossible that he could be related to a family whose interests were so wildly divergent from his own.
Father called for the carriage to be brought around again, and after fussing over them both, adjusting and smoothing lapels and running his hands through Lucas hair, settling it in place—he stopped in front of Lex and eyed him with scorn. “I suppose it must be a blessing not to have to worry about hair, hmm?”
Lex blushed fiercely, anger staining his cheeks and neck deep red…he stared at his father’s shoulder length salt and pepper hair, and strained to remain expressionless.
His father chuckled and walked away and Lucas came to stand next to him. He stood so close Lex could feel the heat of his body against his side.
“He doesn’t mean to be thoughtless…or maybe he does,” Lucas said, his lips brushed over his ear as he spoke, warm breath washing against his throat and cheek. Lex swallowed a little hiccup of sound and Lucas asked, his voice an insinuating drawl, “So—are you? Hairless, I mean…all over…” and then he slid a hand lightly along his thigh, barely making contact, but to Lex’s touch deprived skin it was enough to make it shiver on his bones. He railed silently in his mind against his wretched cursed body and wrenched away from Lucas, cursing himself also for showing how much that simple action rattled him.
Lucas chuckled, sounding horribly like Father and walked after the man. Lex walked behind, straining to appear calm and unaffected. I wish oh, how I wish, they’d both just go to hell.
After a short and for Lex, unbearably tense ride, they arrived at one of the finer homes in the city, a home known as a center of the social life in the city. It was impressive; it’s architecture in the Georgian manner. Beautifully proportioned columns framed either side of double leaded glass doors, and electric lights burned on each one. Lights stood in each of the long windows; boys holding oil lamps lined the long path of the curved driveway. Liveried footmen dashed about directing carriages, leading horses and helping the guests step down. Lex began to feel a little thrill of excitement despite himself. He could hear music coming from the open doors leading to a large marble foyer. He smelled cigar smoke and heard laughter, and the smell of spirits and fine food wafted on the air.
They stepped inside and the music was louder, the smell of fragrant smoke stronger. Lucas grinned and went to a side table, helped himself to a cigar. His father stood by, intently watching a young boy in livery light a cigar for him.
The boy’s tongue darted out and wet his pink lips before they wrapped around the end and rolled the cigar between his lips. He held a burning taper to the end, puffed until it caught with a glow. He inhaled, exhaled and his lips tightened and relaxed around the round length of cigar and Lex felt as though he’d been holding his breath and he felt oddly hot. The boy presented the cigar to Lionel, a thin tendril of smoke leaked from his lips and he smiled before bowing and melting into the crowd. His father turned and caught him staring—and winked at him. He held his arms out to Lex and Lucas and called out to them in a hearty voice.
“Come along boys, come along.”
tbc, my dearest little ones.
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5/29/05 02:49 am (UTC)Ahhh...it gets a *lot* stickier...it's pure evil, be warned.