My own effort. As with some of the others posting here, this is my first go at one of these
The young man sprawled untidily in the chair. "I did try and tell your men that I wasn't Golden Boy" he said as he lazily looked around the tired drawing room, surveying the faded furnishings and peeling wallpaper, "but they didn't seem interested."
In the chair opposite, Major Grigori Arbatov fumed quietly to himself. This man certainly had the family resemblance. The golden hair, the glowing complexion, the attitude.
"So you're telling me you're not Midas?" he asked.
"I'm not the Midas if that's what you mean." The man sneered, his mood quickly changing "Fuoco! Why do you think I was unarmed? Unguarded? Is it possibly because nobody wants me? Oh never mind Dominik, he'll be alright, it's Golden Boy that needs to be looked after, he's the important one-"
Arbatov put up his hand in a effort to get some peace and thinking space. The man continued regardless, he let him. Disappointment it seemed was once again to be his companion. This was supposed to have been the answer to reversing the fortunes of the family Arbatov. He'd heard rumours of someone whose touch could bring wealth and good fortune, both things his family had been lacking of late. He had therefore turned some of the family's now meagre estate toward finding out more and arranging this meeting. It was becoming apparent that this research was not as thorough as he'd been lead to believe, there had been no mention of a Dominik, only Pietr. He tried to regain control of the discussion:
"So your name is Dominik Midas, correct?"
"Yes, well done, that's right, my name is Dominik, not Pietr, not Golden Boy. Golden Boy is my brother."
Arbatov felt a sudden hope flare up through him. "Brother, you say..."
Midas laughed, it was a bitter and hollow sound. "But before you get your hopes up it is only fair that I point something out to you" he said. "You recall the fact I was unguarded when your men... acquired me?" Arbatov nodded. "Had it not struck you as strange? A man with my power walking around without any form of escort?" Now he considered it, it did seem unusual.
"Let me just say" Midas continued, "whereas Pietr has a golden touch, my touch is of a somewhat more base matter, he is Midas, I am Anti-Midas. Basically whatever I touch turns to sh-"
"Ok!" Arbatov interrupted "I think I get the idea!" standing and turning away from the man.
His mind raced. It may be that this man was not be able to help the family directly, but indirectly however...if he were to be introduced to a particular Romanov bastard, the same bastard that had befouled the Arbatov fortunes and good standing, maybe he could be of some help after all...
After ten minutes they had a joint plan of action.
"So we are agreed then?" Asked Midas.
"Indeed" said Major Grigori Arbatov, and shook him warmly by the hand.
Midas – A Tale from Imperial Russia
The young man sprawled untidily in the chair. "I did try and tell your men that I wasn't Golden Boy" he said as he lazily looked around the tired drawing room, surveying the faded furnishings and peeling wallpaper, "but they didn't seem interested."
In the chair opposite, Major Grigori Arbatov fumed quietly to himself. This man certainly had the family resemblance. The golden hair, the glowing complexion, the attitude.
"So you're telling me you're not Midas?" he asked.
"I'm not the Midas if that's what you mean." The man sneered, his mood quickly changing "Fuoco! Why do you think I was unarmed? Unguarded? Is it possibly because nobody wants me? Oh never mind Dominik, he'll be alright, it's Golden Boy that needs to be looked after, he's the important one-"
Arbatov put up his hand in a effort to get some peace and thinking space. The man continued regardless, he let him. Disappointment it seemed was once again to be his companion. This was supposed to have been the answer to reversing the fortunes of the family Arbatov. He'd heard rumours of someone whose touch could bring wealth and good fortune, both things his family had been lacking of late. He had therefore turned some of the family's now meagre estate toward finding out more and arranging this meeting. It was becoming apparent that this research was not as thorough as he'd been lead to believe, there had been no mention of a Dominik, only Pietr. He tried to regain control of the discussion:
"So your name is Dominik Midas, correct?"
"Yes, well done, that's right, my name is Dominik, not Pietr, not Golden Boy. Golden Boy is my brother."
Arbatov felt a sudden hope flare up through him. "Brother, you say..."
Midas laughed, it was a bitter and hollow sound. "But before you get your hopes up it is only fair that I point something out to you" he said. "You recall the fact I was unguarded when your men... acquired me?" Arbatov nodded. "Had it not struck you as strange? A man with my power walking around without any form of escort?" Now he considered it, it did seem unusual.
"Let me just say" Midas continued, "whereas Pietr has a golden touch, my touch is of a somewhat more base matter, he is Midas, I am Anti-Midas. Basically whatever I touch turns to sh-"
"Ok!" Arbatov interrupted "I think I get the idea!" standing and turning away from the man.
His mind raced. It may be that this man was not be able to help the family directly, but indirectly however...if he were to be introduced to a particular Romanov bastard, the same bastard that had befouled the Arbatov fortunes and good standing, maybe he could be of some help after all...
After ten minutes they had a joint plan of action.
"So we are agreed then?" Asked Midas.
"Indeed" said Major Grigori Arbatov, and shook him warmly by the hand.