Gordon wasn’t ashamed of the fact he had deployed Virgil on this. It had required the big guns, after all. Of course, having Penelope in his pocket had been a major tactical plus as well.
Amber liquid sloshed in the glass in his hand, ice cubes clinking. Walking across the sitting room - yes, he had a sitting room, not that he used it very often, but Penelope said it was his room to do want he wanted with it, so he did - he stepped out onto the balcony.
The air was chill, but it always felt chill to Gordon, even in the depths of the English summer. He had become far too acclimated to the tropics of Tracy Island. But tonight it was no matter. He had stolen one of Virgil’s flannel shirts and it was doing its job of keeping his body heat in after shedding the glamour of his tux the moment he got home.
While Gordon was never above strutting his stuff in the finest wear possible, honestly, he preferred lazywear and dumped the glamour as soon as possible.
Of course, the knock at his door was likely to involve fancy dress because there was no way his eldest brother could possibly have changed having just arrived at the manor moments before.
“Come in, Scott.”
The door opened and closed quietly, but Gordon didn’t look back into the room. He took a drink of the whisky in his hand and screwed up his face. How the hell did his brother drink this stuff on a regular basis?
“I’m out here.”
Sure enough, Scott was still dressed to the nines. His tuxedo glimmered in the moonlight as he walked out onto the balcony. “Hey.”
Gordon smiled at him over his glass. “Looking good there, Scooter.”
Scott eyed Gordon’s flannel shirt. “Interesting choice yourself.”
He dismissed it with the wave of a hand. “Bah, Virgil would have me wearing it anyway. Cold weather drives him around the bend and into a smother henning snit.”
Gordon snorted. “Pot, kettle, old man.”
The blue glare hit him between the eyeballs and Gordon couldn’t help but grin. “Sit down, Scooter. Have a drink.”
That earned him an arched eyebrow, but his big brother did as asked, ice clinking into a tumbler despite the chill temperature, and few fingers of expensive alcohol followed. Scott held up the bottle, frowning at the label. “Good choice.”
“If you say so.” Gordon ran his tongue across his teeth.
The padded chair on the balcony was a comfortable one. Gordon threw himself into it with a sigh as Scott sat down beside him.
“I want to thank you, Gordon.”
Rolling his eyes, he held up a hand. “Stop right there, Scooter. You only got what you deserved. Virg and I only made sure it was acknowledged for once.”
His brother took a sip and savoured the liquor for a moment before turning to Gordon again. “Virgil said it was all you.”
“Virgil says a lot of things.”
“A lot of right things.”
A snort. “I’ll remind you of that the next time he tells you to go to bed.”
Scott sighed. “‘Right’ doesn’t mean I can’t disagree with him.”
“I can’t see you doing exactly as he says.” It was almost whiney in a brotherly sense and the sip of alcohol Gordon was in the process of swallowing detoured into his windpipe.
The coughing fit became laughter at some point as Scott thwapped him on his back. “Oh god, you idiot. Always above the pecking order, eldest brother.” He emphasised those last two words. “Have you forgotten, that like you, he is my elder brother? Listening isn’t optional.”
An arched eyebrow. “You only listen when you want to listen.”
“That you know of.”
Scott stared at him.
So, okay, perhaps Gordon was revealing a little too much on the brother versus brother field, but tonight had meant a lot and had been a long time coming, so it was possible he was feeling a little on the soft side. He could give his brother that much. “Allie and I have always listened.”
The staring continued.
Gordon took another drink. He needed it this time. “You deserved every accolade tonight and more.”
He held up a hand again. “I wish we could give you more. Because you are everything to us, Scott.”
His brother blinked, eyes just a little wider than they should be.
Gordon’s lips pressed together and he pinned his brother with his eyes. “Everything.”
follow up to my previous ask to Alphameter- more context; Scout and Spy are talking, Spy just explained a thing that’s basic knowledge to the people who’ve been in the situation/setting longer, and now he has to do it a second time with a second thing
excerpt; The Frenchman pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “[French interjection]…On every (speech continues etc.)
I think just mon Dieu would work best ? ty for all the info !!
so- short answer ?
yes it fits
long answer ? I do not know if you will like this but here is a very dad answer to this.
when an exhausted parent explains several times something to their neurodivergent kid, they start "counting" the times they gave the explanation. they just naturally do it.
my parents call this "éditions" (lit : publication). Première édition (when they already expect my ass to just not understand shit), seconde édition, tho past that they may just say troisième or troisième fois (third, third time), and theyll also say shit like dernière édition/dernière fois (last time, warning they will not repeat).
So. you could have mon Dieu (or bon sang), or you could have, seconde édition, because lets be real spy aint having no fuckin patience with this brat
What's really interesting about Batman and Superman as contrasts is that one is supposed to be closed off and the other generally open and trusting. So you got Batman "I work alone" and Superman "we make a good team," right?
Except Bruce has the biggest (bat)family. He is adopting any child he feels he has empathy with and feels he can take care of. Of course, there's two things that make this possible, from an authorial perspective. The Batman's set of abilities are not due to a superpower, but due to training, so anyone can work as a Batman sidekick with the right training. Batman is, also, rich, so he's got the resources to realistically take care of several wardens. It's easy to give him kid after kid after kid.
Superman doesn't offer the same ease as a character. He is so ridiculously overpowered that sidekicks can only come from a single place that has been established to have experienced a catastrophic extinction event, or from experiments. Both these circumstances lead to Superman put in a position where he has a sort of obligation to acknowledge these characters into his life, or making him experience an understandable shock that leads to denial.
The effect this has upon the narrative, though, is that Batman somehow feels like the person who seeks connection the most, despite having difficulty with it. Superman, for his part, feels like a person who has generally more ease and is better adjusted, and so, doesn't seem to latch into connection quite so strongly.
Batman seeks to change his status quo while Superman seeks to maintain it. Superman already has stable open emotional connections in his adoptive family and his civilian friends, while Batman has a figure of intimidation and a façade of a secret identity.
And it's just- it's interesting.