Ethan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cutslikeaspade) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
houseofcards_rp2013-04-14 07:15 pm
cutslikeaspade) wrote in houseofcards_rp2013-04-14 07:15 pm
Entry tags:
judgment...day?
Ethan clapped Kevin on the shoulder as the Club headed for the armory's entrance. "And it should fit just right, too," he said, gesturing to the box.
Kevin hefted it a few times, speculative. "You sure?"
The Spade nodded. "Mmhm. But be sure to have her try it on, yeah? Because if it doesn't, I'll send it back and get another one that does." He was taking no chances on the fit of Eileen's motorcycle helmet--it'd either fit right and she'd wear the padded jacket when they rode, or no more motorcycle outings for the smallest Ace; those had been Argine's conditions. To which Ethan readily agreed.
Kevin nodded, grinning. "She'll be excited 'bout it, too." He held out a hand. "Thanks, man. From both of us. And thanks for breakfast 'n coffee, too."
Ethan shook it cordially, adding a bit abashedly, "Not a problem. You know I didn't mean any of that garbage, dude." Recalling that tumultuous afternoon, he shook his head with a short sigh. "Just...bad day all around." Seeing Kevin's sympathetic look, he resumed his slanted grin, saying, "But, hey, water under the bridge. Things're smoothed out now, so hopefully no more surprises for a while." The Club heartily agreed, bidding Ethan another friendly farewell, promising to ensure the fit of Eileen's helmet as soon as possible.
Kevin had just disappeared around the entrance and Ethan to his desk when he glanced up at the new arrivals into his workplace. Ah. Unsurprising. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers as Madams Fortenbury and Stevenson, Nine and Eight respectively. Since both of them were glaring down their noses, Ethan didn't bother rising, but merely gave both women a cordial nod in greeting.
He wasn't surprised when Elinor Fortenbury began without preamble, "Why, Sir Eight, have you assigned our boys to..." her lips twisted but she managed to spit out the words, volume increasing with each one, "such menial labor as if they were common scullery urchins?"
Well, since we were all committed to being snide today... Ethan didn't change his nonchalant pose, saying after a long moment, just to enjoy the dual consternation, "...because, m'ladies, both of your children were caught dueling with actual weapons. Which," and he eyed the two women seriously, "I'm sure you both know is strictly against Castle policy."
Marianne Stevenson began to speak, but Ethan held up a hand and cut her off before she could start. "If they'd been flailing away at each other with sticks, I wouldn't have cared in the least. More power to them both, in fact." He tossed his pen on the desk and leaned forward, elbows propped on its surface. "But, instead, they snuck in here, stole two swords from my repository, and then proceeded with their attempt to kill each other over whatever stupid slight brought about the argument in the first place." Icy eyes hardened. "Believe me, ladies, a few days of scrubbing toilets and cleaning floors with toothbrushes beats, hands down, attending two teenage funerals."
Elinor, still nonplussed, opened her mouth, closed it again, caught the look from her compatriot--nothing like having a common enemy to settle a family feud, Ethan thought with an unseen smirk--then she huffed, waving everything aside. "Nevertheless," she snapped, still piqued, "you dare to make my son perform such lowly chores as if--as if--as if he weren't a Fortenbury?" She jerked up her chin. "It's not to be tolerated! I demand you rescind your ridiculous chastisement immediately!"
That brought Ethan out of his chair, ignoring a spluttering Marianne Stevenson as she tried to interject that her son was a Stevenson and he was no better than that Fortenbury brat--indeed!--but Ethan sliced a hand sideways, shutting them both up.
"Enough." He didn't raise his voice, either. But there was no mistaking the hard edge to his words. There was no way in hell he was going to be railroaded by either of them, not in his own damned office. "You enrolled your children into my classes. You gave me authority over their actions in doing so. You did not see fit to punish them for their wrongdoing, which left doing so to me, as their counselor and instructor.
"However, if you take issue with my instructions, and the consequences of actions garnered by way of punishment, then both of you are more than welcome to take it up with our Queen. I'm sure Her Majesty will be so very interested to hear of this scandal and no doubt take it upon herself to mete out punishments deserved accordingly.
"Because," and Ethan took a deep breath, working hard to keep his temper--losing it wouldn't avail the boys any, that was sure--"until I receive direction from her otherwise, my judgment will stand and they will fulfill the terms of their punishment." Both Mason and Jarret were good kids, just stupid; he'd been right there in their shoes, after all. And having parents like these weren't helping their case any, poor lads.
Inhaling surreptitiously, he sat back down and straightened the papers atop his desk. "Now," he said in that same even tone, "is there anything else I can do for you, my ladies?" It took effort, to be sure, but he didn't even smirk as both of them turned without a word and stormed out of his office, trailing bruised dignity behind them. Ethan just shook his head, laughed at the surreality of his life, and went back to his lesson plans.
Kevin hefted it a few times, speculative. "You sure?"
The Spade nodded. "Mmhm. But be sure to have her try it on, yeah? Because if it doesn't, I'll send it back and get another one that does." He was taking no chances on the fit of Eileen's motorcycle helmet--it'd either fit right and she'd wear the padded jacket when they rode, or no more motorcycle outings for the smallest Ace; those had been Argine's conditions. To which Ethan readily agreed.
Kevin nodded, grinning. "She'll be excited 'bout it, too." He held out a hand. "Thanks, man. From both of us. And thanks for breakfast 'n coffee, too."
Ethan shook it cordially, adding a bit abashedly, "Not a problem. You know I didn't mean any of that garbage, dude." Recalling that tumultuous afternoon, he shook his head with a short sigh. "Just...bad day all around." Seeing Kevin's sympathetic look, he resumed his slanted grin, saying, "But, hey, water under the bridge. Things're smoothed out now, so hopefully no more surprises for a while." The Club heartily agreed, bidding Ethan another friendly farewell, promising to ensure the fit of Eileen's helmet as soon as possible.
Kevin had just disappeared around the entrance and Ethan to his desk when he glanced up at the new arrivals into his workplace. Ah. Unsurprising. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers as Madams Fortenbury and Stevenson, Nine and Eight respectively. Since both of them were glaring down their noses, Ethan didn't bother rising, but merely gave both women a cordial nod in greeting.
He wasn't surprised when Elinor Fortenbury began without preamble, "Why, Sir Eight, have you assigned our boys to..." her lips twisted but she managed to spit out the words, volume increasing with each one, "such menial labor as if they were common scullery urchins?"
Well, since we were all committed to being snide today... Ethan didn't change his nonchalant pose, saying after a long moment, just to enjoy the dual consternation, "...because, m'ladies, both of your children were caught dueling with actual weapons. Which," and he eyed the two women seriously, "I'm sure you both know is strictly against Castle policy."
Marianne Stevenson began to speak, but Ethan held up a hand and cut her off before she could start. "If they'd been flailing away at each other with sticks, I wouldn't have cared in the least. More power to them both, in fact." He tossed his pen on the desk and leaned forward, elbows propped on its surface. "But, instead, they snuck in here, stole two swords from my repository, and then proceeded with their attempt to kill each other over whatever stupid slight brought about the argument in the first place." Icy eyes hardened. "Believe me, ladies, a few days of scrubbing toilets and cleaning floors with toothbrushes beats, hands down, attending two teenage funerals."
Elinor, still nonplussed, opened her mouth, closed it again, caught the look from her compatriot--nothing like having a common enemy to settle a family feud, Ethan thought with an unseen smirk--then she huffed, waving everything aside. "Nevertheless," she snapped, still piqued, "you dare to make my son perform such lowly chores as if--as if--as if he weren't a Fortenbury?" She jerked up her chin. "It's not to be tolerated! I demand you rescind your ridiculous chastisement immediately!"
That brought Ethan out of his chair, ignoring a spluttering Marianne Stevenson as she tried to interject that her son was a Stevenson and he was no better than that Fortenbury brat--indeed!--but Ethan sliced a hand sideways, shutting them both up.
"Enough." He didn't raise his voice, either. But there was no mistaking the hard edge to his words. There was no way in hell he was going to be railroaded by either of them, not in his own damned office. "You enrolled your children into my classes. You gave me authority over their actions in doing so. You did not see fit to punish them for their wrongdoing, which left doing so to me, as their counselor and instructor.
"However, if you take issue with my instructions, and the consequences of actions garnered by way of punishment, then both of you are more than welcome to take it up with our Queen. I'm sure Her Majesty will be so very interested to hear of this scandal and no doubt take it upon herself to mete out punishments deserved accordingly.
"Because," and Ethan took a deep breath, working hard to keep his temper--losing it wouldn't avail the boys any, that was sure--"until I receive direction from her otherwise, my judgment will stand and they will fulfill the terms of their punishment." Both Mason and Jarret were good kids, just stupid; he'd been right there in their shoes, after all. And having parents like these weren't helping their case any, poor lads.
Inhaling surreptitiously, he sat back down and straightened the papers atop his desk. "Now," he said in that same even tone, "is there anything else I can do for you, my ladies?" It took effort, to be sure, but he didn't even smirk as both of them turned without a word and stormed out of his office, trailing bruised dignity behind them. Ethan just shook his head, laughed at the surreality of his life, and went back to his lesson plans.