"We are celebrating my legal ownership of a dumpster, my love," Nathaniel replied almost immediately, not turning away from the sparking mess just yet. "If you want to claim ownership of garbage, be my guest. But it's not worthy of you. At least let me make it pretty for you first."
He finally pulled himself away and back into the present. They would have to be getting ready soon and the house was still being inspected for any magical obstructions that were not of Nathaniel's design. As soon as everything we scoured out, he could appropriately furnish it. He thought briefly of allowing the filthiest residents in the poorest districts have the tacky pieces, but they hadn't deserved it yet.
He'd reconsider when they worshipped him without question. Nathaniel had to weed out the weakest ones and then he could make everything pretty. One thing at a time. Or two.
Nathaniel looked Markus up and down. The poor thing never wanted to wear clothes outside of the houses and he would allow it. Maybe if they were fast, a more correct celebration would be in order, but there simply wasn't enough privacy just yet. A bug free house, a gala, a conversation, followed by a rigorous polishing of his trophy.
Mine, he thought.
"Unfortunately, you have to wear something presentable to the gala. I anticipate a lot of talking, but you can keep your pretty mouth shut if you don't want to converse with miserable pawns," he said, stroking Markus's feathers. He couldn't decide if it was possessive or loving. (Were they not the same thing?)
He finally pulled himself away and back into the present. They would have to be getting ready soon and the house was still being inspected for any magical obstructions that were not of Nathaniel's design. As soon as everything we scoured out, he could appropriately furnish it. He thought briefly of allowing the filthiest residents in the poorest districts have the tacky pieces, but they hadn't deserved it yet.
He'd reconsider when they worshipped him without question. Nathaniel had to weed out the weakest ones and then he could make everything pretty. One thing at a time. Or two.
Nathaniel looked Markus up and down. The poor thing never wanted to wear clothes outside of the houses and he would allow it. Maybe if they were fast, a more correct celebration would be in order, but there simply wasn't enough privacy just yet. A bug free house, a gala, a conversation, followed by a rigorous polishing of his trophy.
Mine, he thought.
"Unfortunately, you have to wear something presentable to the gala. I anticipate a lot of talking, but you can keep your pretty mouth shut if you don't want to converse with miserable pawns," he said, stroking Markus's feathers. He couldn't decide if it was possessive or loving. (Were they not the same thing?)
