*ominous cello notes*
Aug 5, 2013 17:09:50 GMT -5
Post by Rotti Largo on Aug 5, 2013 17:09:50 GMT -5
Rotti Largo needed a damn drink.
Of course, being Rotti Largo ensured that said drink was a glass of an exquisite red wine from the old country, brought by a GENtern who tottered along in her heels and balanced it on a silver tray, but there were certain conventions to be followed, gestures to be made.
He had barely brought it to his lips when another round of coughing erupted from his lips and sent the wine splashing across the surface of his desk. The GENtern made a startled noise and looked quickly for something to mop up the spill with lest she risked Rotti's ire; finding nothing, she swiftly pulled off her dress and stood there mopping at the spill with it in her lingerie while Rotti slumped back in his chair.
The GENtern timidly looked at his slack, sweat-beaded face and bit her lip.
"Would you like me to get a doctor, Mr. Largo, sir?"
"No," Rotti growled. "You're dismissed."
"Permanently, sir?"
"Only if you keep standing there! Leave me-"
The GENtern needed no further instruction, especially with Rotti's two bodyguards pointing their rifles at her, and went running toward the door. Rotti began coughing again as he pulled himself up in his seat.
It was all a joke. What a time to be dying, especially for a man like Rotti Largo. With Nixon being pushed out of office, it was absolutely necessary that Luthor found his way in. There was little doubt in Rotti's mind that that damned left-wing fool running against him would make sure that organ repossessions were the first thing to go under his administration, and GeneCo would crumble. His father's company, gone in one penstroke.
It made Rotti sick to his stomach just thinking about it.
On the other hand, even if GeneCo survived, none of Rotti's children could possibly be entrusted with it. A murderous drunk, a spoiled whore of a junkie... and as for Pavi, he went beyond the pale of description. Rotti had long since absolved himself of responsibility for his children; Luigi was perverse from the start, and Pavi and Amber's whole generation was soured. Too many obnoxious beatniks and free-loving, folk-singing fools had popped out too many brats in the previous thirty-five years or so, and they'd infected the ones raised with sense and an appreciation for a dollar, and now the streets were flooded with slick little yuppies and cokeheads and Z-sluts and KT queens who'd never had to work for anything but their next hit. They were a profitable cluster of degenerates, certainly, but almost all of them deadbeats and burnouts. Just look at Ashby or Ashley or whatever he called himself, that boy from overseas who'd tried to become Mayor of New York because it amused him or something no doubt, crashed, and was last seen by the press leaving Central Park with his unprepossessing little mistress, complaining of the heat and wearing shabby hair extensions.
None of the alternative options had panned out, either. Nathan Wallace and Adrian Veidt had both seemed like good candidates, right up until Nathan made off with Marni and Veidt stood by and laughed. And while Nathan was taken care of now, all of Rotti's efforts to isolate Veidt from his children had failed. True, the boy was nowhere to be found- probably dead, if all had gone as planned, but the girl...
Nina Fortner was, if anything, even more of a nightmare for GeneCo to deal with than Micaela had been. It was hard to think of a better heir to any fortune, and the fact that she was Adrian Veidt's- Veidt, who had always been, with the benefit of hindsight, no better than Rotti's children. Oh, certainly, he had a good head for business and a strong sense of initiative, qualities which Luigi, Pavi, and Amber were all noticeably lacking, but he was an ingrate all the same, refusing Rotti's generosity and backstabbing him by playing pander to Nathan and Marni. This was obvious now- not to mention the disgusting pride he took in that monstrous mechanical hand he wore just to spite everything GeneCo had done for his career, whether he admitted it or not.
Lex Luthor had a shaky spot in line, but elevating him to the presidency meant removing him from the running- and the man did have an unpleasant habit of railing on and on about how Superman was a dangerous alien, a topic about which Rotti could hardly care less.
This left only one potential option- Marni's little daughter Shilo, now a teenager herself. Nathan had been imprisoning her in the house he had unjustly shared with Marni before Rotti handled the situation by regularly dosing her with poison and convincing her she was ill. She was Nathan's entire world, and likely a far easier target than someone like the brilliant, forthright Nina Fortner.
Uprooting his existence once again might almost be amusing.
There was only one matter remaining- the mystery of the other girl who had been in Nathan's house for nearly a month or so, a pregnant blonde who didn't appear much older than Shilo herself but was allowed free access to the household, and who had apparently been targeted by an intruder, whom Nathan had swiftly dispatched.
Rotti could not afford any more loose ends to potentially trouble Shilo's bubble of ignorance. He sent Nathan a message on his hololink demanding his presence in Rotti's office immediately.
Of course, being Rotti Largo ensured that said drink was a glass of an exquisite red wine from the old country, brought by a GENtern who tottered along in her heels and balanced it on a silver tray, but there were certain conventions to be followed, gestures to be made.
He had barely brought it to his lips when another round of coughing erupted from his lips and sent the wine splashing across the surface of his desk. The GENtern made a startled noise and looked quickly for something to mop up the spill with lest she risked Rotti's ire; finding nothing, she swiftly pulled off her dress and stood there mopping at the spill with it in her lingerie while Rotti slumped back in his chair.
The GENtern timidly looked at his slack, sweat-beaded face and bit her lip.
"Would you like me to get a doctor, Mr. Largo, sir?"
"No," Rotti growled. "You're dismissed."
"Permanently, sir?"
"Only if you keep standing there! Leave me-"
The GENtern needed no further instruction, especially with Rotti's two bodyguards pointing their rifles at her, and went running toward the door. Rotti began coughing again as he pulled himself up in his seat.
It was all a joke. What a time to be dying, especially for a man like Rotti Largo. With Nixon being pushed out of office, it was absolutely necessary that Luthor found his way in. There was little doubt in Rotti's mind that that damned left-wing fool running against him would make sure that organ repossessions were the first thing to go under his administration, and GeneCo would crumble. His father's company, gone in one penstroke.
It made Rotti sick to his stomach just thinking about it.
On the other hand, even if GeneCo survived, none of Rotti's children could possibly be entrusted with it. A murderous drunk, a spoiled whore of a junkie... and as for Pavi, he went beyond the pale of description. Rotti had long since absolved himself of responsibility for his children; Luigi was perverse from the start, and Pavi and Amber's whole generation was soured. Too many obnoxious beatniks and free-loving, folk-singing fools had popped out too many brats in the previous thirty-five years or so, and they'd infected the ones raised with sense and an appreciation for a dollar, and now the streets were flooded with slick little yuppies and cokeheads and Z-sluts and KT queens who'd never had to work for anything but their next hit. They were a profitable cluster of degenerates, certainly, but almost all of them deadbeats and burnouts. Just look at Ashby or Ashley or whatever he called himself, that boy from overseas who'd tried to become Mayor of New York because it amused him or something no doubt, crashed, and was last seen by the press leaving Central Park with his unprepossessing little mistress, complaining of the heat and wearing shabby hair extensions.
None of the alternative options had panned out, either. Nathan Wallace and Adrian Veidt had both seemed like good candidates, right up until Nathan made off with Marni and Veidt stood by and laughed. And while Nathan was taken care of now, all of Rotti's efforts to isolate Veidt from his children had failed. True, the boy was nowhere to be found- probably dead, if all had gone as planned, but the girl...
Nina Fortner was, if anything, even more of a nightmare for GeneCo to deal with than Micaela had been. It was hard to think of a better heir to any fortune, and the fact that she was Adrian Veidt's- Veidt, who had always been, with the benefit of hindsight, no better than Rotti's children. Oh, certainly, he had a good head for business and a strong sense of initiative, qualities which Luigi, Pavi, and Amber were all noticeably lacking, but he was an ingrate all the same, refusing Rotti's generosity and backstabbing him by playing pander to Nathan and Marni. This was obvious now- not to mention the disgusting pride he took in that monstrous mechanical hand he wore just to spite everything GeneCo had done for his career, whether he admitted it or not.
Lex Luthor had a shaky spot in line, but elevating him to the presidency meant removing him from the running- and the man did have an unpleasant habit of railing on and on about how Superman was a dangerous alien, a topic about which Rotti could hardly care less.
This left only one potential option- Marni's little daughter Shilo, now a teenager herself. Nathan had been imprisoning her in the house he had unjustly shared with Marni before Rotti handled the situation by regularly dosing her with poison and convincing her she was ill. She was Nathan's entire world, and likely a far easier target than someone like the brilliant, forthright Nina Fortner.
Uprooting his existence once again might almost be amusing.
There was only one matter remaining- the mystery of the other girl who had been in Nathan's house for nearly a month or so, a pregnant blonde who didn't appear much older than Shilo herself but was allowed free access to the household, and who had apparently been targeted by an intruder, whom Nathan had swiftly dispatched.
Rotti could not afford any more loose ends to potentially trouble Shilo's bubble of ignorance. He sent Nathan a message on his hololink demanding his presence in Rotti's office immediately.