I Spy With My Only Eye

[Onslaught/Octavian Comstock]

"Yes, and I am certain that the only difference between a Great Dane and a pug is that the owners of the latter tend to care less about the lineage papers." He scoffs, utterly dismissively. To complete it he shakes his head before turning his attention on the golden ice cream again, finding this much more worthy of his time.

"Perhaps. I have not slept for several days. I could simply rely on more stim-boosters, but after today's events, a proper rest would be welcome, I must admit." He quirks an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat, a hand rising to rub his chin. "Perhaps after a bath. It has been a while since I enjoyed the supreme comfort of the holy trinity of a hot bath, freshly ironed pajamas and warm sheets." He looks at the clock. 1am. It is late. Should he really call for the maid, when she might be fast asleep, for something as trivial as this?

"Cipher, please call miss Rosalita and tell her to do iron my finest silk pajamas, change my bed and clean up this mess, post-haste."

Hell yes.

"Now, why did you ask?"

[Frenzy]

Cipher uses her own spoon to trap Octavian's against the sundae. "The point of pure-breeding is to reinforce desirable genetics. What genetics do you find so desirable in humans that we need-" her lip curls "-breeding programs?"

With her other hand, she pulls out her smartphone and hits the desktop shortcut to dial Rosalita. She issues Octavian's orders without letting her eyes drift from his.

"As for why, I would like to go to bed before the sun rises."

[Onslaught/Octavian Comstock]

Cipher's reaction is hardly surprising. His allegory did carry certain implications. Implications that are entirely spot on, which he believes in, and indeed, even resulted in his very existence. Octavian's existence, Onslaught has to remind himself. But he also knows that it is a controversial subject. "Why, every trait, of course. There is not one in specific to be focused on. That would simply result in a flawed, weak breed. Again, look at Rosalita. An impressive and respectable lineage, but it is brought down by her irrefutable madness, undoubtedly the result of centuries of careless inbreeding to maintain one or several culturally desirable traits."

If Rosalita ever decides to have children, Octavian might have to try and talk her into having genetic modification done. Or find out if it skips a generation and then talk sense into her children. That would probably be a lot simpler.

He looks down at the sundae, which she still has blocked. Drats. He's not going to get a taste of that until he strikes down the elephant in the room, isn't it? He locks his eye with hers. Though he momentarily has trouble deciding which to focus on. How annoying. "I do not care about race, Cipher. I may be a very traditional man, but unlike others of my standing, I only believe in the traditions that are worth keeping."

He lets his spoon go and rises from his seat. He looks at her, a small smile forming on his lips. "If I were like them, we would have never even met, and I would have suffered greatly for it. I would not have met my greatest asset, the one who balances me, who allows me to continue to rise towards greatness. I would not have met a woman that I, frankly, admire." If she allows it, he will place a hand on her shoulder. "Dawn comes in a scant few hours, and you need more sleep than I do. Thank you for gracing me with your presence. I enjoyed it."

[Frenzy]

The one thing she absolutely detests about Octavian is his view on eugenics. It has been used against her kind of people far too often in history, and she suspects it will be again. Especially given the predilection of the backers of powerful supervillains to being rich white males.

She allows him to reassure her, though. Her lips quirk as he touches her shoulder. "I imagine it was breeding for her vaunted teleportation abilities."

She dips her spoon into the sundae and takes one last taste. "Thank you, Lord Octavian. I trust today has ended more better than worse for you."

[Onslaught/Octavian Comstock]

"I am surprised they even got that, then." With that he moves his hand away from her shoulder, letting it lower and grab the bowl of sundae. He does not mind missing out on what's left of the rest of the food, but this, he's finishing.

"Certainly." He turns to lean against the desk, watching the storm rage outside. Lightning cleaves the sky in half, illuminating the dark office. Thunder follows soon after. "Lovely weather."