Charles di Britannia stared at the Imperial Factory Complex.
The Factory Complex was not actually staring back, he was almost sure.
The keyword here being, almost.
"Ahh, Charles, Charles."
Charles sighed softly as his lover - No, no, he was officially one of his Consorts now, commoner-born or not - slowly and quietly put one of her wings over his truck bed.
"I don't think the Factory appreciates being stared at, my love."
"I'm sure it must be used to it by now, Marianne." Charles answered, taking her invisible hands in his.
Marianne was beautiful, all her lines sleek and lethal, a fighter plane to the core. To think that such ferocious beauty had sprung from commoner stock...
Though on the other hand, considering just what Charles himself looked like - ahh, well.
There was a soft cough, then.
"Your Majesty?"
"Elaine." Charles acknowledged, shortly. Well, it wasn't like he could just ignore her - This was supposed to be her day, after all.
Elaine li Britannia was painted up to her grills, tonight, and pattern-coordinated with her daughter Cornelia to boot. The green and blue looked good on Elaine, Charles did had to admit, but on Cornelia on the other hand...
Ahh, well. One day, that girl would have to learn to stand up to her Lady Mother.
Even when it came to such - essential - things as The Look.
"I hear that the child is to be a girl?"
"...That is what the Medical Staff has seen fit to tell me, your Majesty."
"Hmph. Very well. Do they have any idea of her - type?"
"That..." Elaine hesitated, and sneaked a peek at the daughter she already had.
"They have given me no information about that, your Majesty."
Charles sighed, then. Elaine was a rather ordinary - if beautiful - large luxury sedan, which was quite the ideal among the titled set in the Holy Britannian Empire, but Cornelia -
Well, he wasn't quite sure just what she was, except that she was quite graceful for something so bristling with weaponry. Somebody in the Medical Staff had started calling her a 'Miniature Bolo' for some reason he couldn't really understand, and the name had stuck. Well, it could have been worse, he supposed - Almost anything was better then being called an Mini-Tank, especially for a female Vehicle. And this particular daughter of his was quite beautiful, Charles did have to admit.
Even despite her present coloring, which did not suit her at all, frankly.
"Lord Father."
Cornelia curtseyed to him, and he nodded back gravely.
"Cornelia. So you are to be an older sister now, hmmm?"
Not that the girl didn't have a fair amount of younger half-sibs already, but this was to be her first full sibling, if he recalled correctly.
"Yes, Lord Father."
Charles nodded at her again, and turned his attention to his other offspring.
"Good evening, Lord Father."
"Schneizel." Charles acknowledged with a nod. Schneizel el Brittania, currently 11 years old, was a strikingly good looking middle sized luxery sedan, who looked very good in the white and gold patterns he was wearing today. Charles sighed inwardly, remembering a certain court hanger-on who had been impolitic enough to comment that it was a pity that Schneizel wasn't just a bit bigger - He would have been the perfect Britannian Prince, then.
Needless to say, that particular hanger-on hadn't lasted much long in court after that.
Though sometime, these days, Charles himself found himself wishing that Schneizel had been a bit larger, too. Oh, it wasn't that Schneizel was actually lacking in self-confidence just as he was now as far as he could see, quite the contrary, but... Not only had he never seen Schneizel actually relaxing at all, none of his far-reaching information-gathering services could find any sign of that particular son of his ever just relaxed and opened his windows and raced along the road, which was quite frankly worrying.
And it would be easier to talk to the boy if Charles didn't have to almost bend down to the floor to meet his eye-windows, too.
If only that particular child of his would act his age, for a change...
"Good evening, Lord Father, Lady Marianne! - And Lady Elaine, too!"
Ahh, yes, there was the other son of his that was supposed to be here.
"Odysseus."
"Yes Sir!"
Charles watched the nominal Crown Prince enthusiastically salute him, and gravely saluted him back. His eldest living legitimate son was quite literally a 'chip off the old block' as some people said, and he looked like a smaller version of Charles himself, at least physically.
Which meant that he looked like a rather well-built work truck, frankly speaking.
Charles sighed inwardly. Charles himself had never let being a really big and rather special work truck stop him from doing anything he wanted to do, but Oddy - Odysseus quite frankly didn't take after Charles himself in personality at all, for better or for worse.
But still, Odysseus was his son, and he was quite useful, even with his limitations. Charles made himself smile at the boy - No, he wasn't really a boy anymore, was he?
Placeholders were quite useful in their own right, after all. And who knew - "Odysseus might actually live long enough to sit on the throne. Or live long enough not to sit on the throne, depending on how things went.
Not that Oddyseus would actually have to worry about all the responsibilities which went with sitting on the throne, if things went the way Charles and Marianne - and several other people - wanted them to go, but...
Charles sighed, then. Sometimes...Sometimes, he just wasn't sure of things, though Marianne would probably laugh to hear it. He felt like - something was watching him, not from elsewhere, but from inside him, looking out through his eye-windows, not plotting, not planning, not as far as Charles could tell, anyway, just...watching.
And waiting.
"Ahem."
But this was no time to be thinking of such things, with his thought processors in the clouds.
"Ahem. L - Lord Father!"
Charles looked down. A very shiny golden luxury sports car was looking up at him, blinking his eye-windows.
"Ahh. Clovis. How do you fare?"
The boy - How old was he, seven? Eight? - looked up at him with a huge smile.
And then he actually bounced up into the air. Charles stared.
Well, this was one child that had no problem acting his age, all right...
"I'm - I'm - Um, Mother's here too, Sir!"
"Of course she is, child." Charles said drily, and went off to exchange pleasantries with the boy's Lady Mother, which seemed to please both of them enormously.
Charles sighed, watching Clovis and his Lady Mother go wheeling off. If only all his Consorts and children were so easy to please...
Charles took a good look around the Birthing Station, then, counting faces and adding things up. Everybody who should have been there seemed to have arrived.
And now the Master Mechanics and the Techs were starting to line up.
It was time.
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(Posted Fri, 12 Feb 2010 16:25)
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