Late one night
Dec 20, 2012 23:48:49 GMT -5
Post by Tybalt on Dec 20, 2012 23:48:49 GMT -5
No one in Latveria was fool enough to question how a grim Italian with few manners and even less of a grasp on Hungarian had managed to rise so far up in authority in the Latverian military command. He had been seen at Doom's right hand side often enough that the answer had to be obvious. To the Latverian people it was of small consequence; whoever their ruler hired was bound to be deserving, for Doom had the highest of demands for his staff (and fulfilled as his high demands of himself). To the other officers things were a bit more tense, but Tybalt had won the respect of most of them through his hard work and willingness to be miserable, and bought the fear of the rest with his terrifying competence. And there was the not insignificant matter of how often he was in Doom's personal chambers. And how frequently Doom retired to bathe, and had servants launder the bedsheets, after he left.
Within the actual fortress, matters were most obvious, though Latveria, and the world at large, remained oblivious.
After some time had passed Tybalt grew detached enough to be like a faithful beast that did not need to be always at its master's heels for one to know that it would return home unfailingly, and when he was not working himself nearly to the point of exhaustion (but only nearly - that honor was reserved for Doom, under intimate circumstances) he would sometimes take his leisure on long rides. A fine stallion, who seemed to have been renamed, albeit fondly, "Cavallo", had become his sole companion other than the tyrant himself.
Latveria's wintry bitterness broke into a snowy, but newly become green beauty that Tybalt could appreciate in his own manner. As the weather permitted, the length of his excursions extended. As the days grew longer so did the length of time Tybalt spent out. Almost perversely, he began to be out long enough that his presence was missed.
On this occasion he arrived after dusk had settled, and Doombots had been told a half hour beforehand to engage in something of a quiet search lest he had lost his way.
Within the actual fortress, matters were most obvious, though Latveria, and the world at large, remained oblivious.
After some time had passed Tybalt grew detached enough to be like a faithful beast that did not need to be always at its master's heels for one to know that it would return home unfailingly, and when he was not working himself nearly to the point of exhaustion (but only nearly - that honor was reserved for Doom, under intimate circumstances) he would sometimes take his leisure on long rides. A fine stallion, who seemed to have been renamed, albeit fondly, "Cavallo", had become his sole companion other than the tyrant himself.
Latveria's wintry bitterness broke into a snowy, but newly become green beauty that Tybalt could appreciate in his own manner. As the weather permitted, the length of his excursions extended. As the days grew longer so did the length of time Tybalt spent out. Almost perversely, he began to be out long enough that his presence was missed.
On this occasion he arrived after dusk had settled, and Doombots had been told a half hour beforehand to engage in something of a quiet search lest he had lost his way.