Grimoire straightened up as piercing crimson eyes scrutinized over his appearance. His grandfather maintained an imposing figure and his aged face still resembled a chiseled statue, despite the sagging skin and peppering hair retreating from his forehead. The great and terrible curse for the patriarchs of the Valentine family meant that one would always exude an air of predatory intimidation. Or, at least, it had. Grimoire did his best to mirror that smoldering presence, but it never failed to look more like an uncomfortable young man had a stick up his rectum.
The old man's fingers nit-picked at minute details: a stray strand of hair here and there, a loose string on the hem of his mantle, a wrinkle in his shirt. The boy was nearly a foot shorter than he, but his hair was slicked back with a right and proper grease and shone quite nicely. His attire had been dyed a deep black in the finest and durable material money could buy. No Valentine would enter the public eye without refinement and Godric Valentine intended to maintain the clan's reputation and respect beyond the grave. When the aged man was finally satisfied he nodded gravely at his grandson's appearance. "Shame not our family name, lad," he growled passed his parchment-thin lips. The young man eagerly thrust his right fist to cross his chest and focused his crimson eyes on those of his kin, "I would rather perish, sir."
The patriarch chuckled, "See that you do, son of my son. If this clan's estate is to be left in your care, I expect nothing less than success in Midgar." His meaty flanges brushed against a small leather bag and pressed it into the seventeen-year-old's hands. "This contains your provisions for the journey, a purse for living expenses, and proper documentation of our fine pedigree. Do be sure to present those to those mutts at Shin-Ra and put that new money lot in their place. I hate to see the vermin strutting around like Golden Chocobos when they are no better than unsightly Headbombers."
There was nothing particularly impressive about his grandson, Godric was painfully aware of that fact. He certainly had the Valentine crimson eyes, which proved his origins themselves. However, the lad had minimal muscle definition and stood only a few inches above five feet; a mere sapling in the mighty grove of Valentine men. The mountain of a man reached for Grimoire and the teenager restrained himself from cringing when his grandfather pinched his arms. "I have faith that you will grow into the Valentine stature, but for now do put on some more muscle, lad. You are a twig, but even plantlets aspire for the greatness of solid oak!"
"Yessir," Grimoire exhaled, trying not to let on that the old man was actually harming him. This sort of encounter was typical for the two of them. Grimoire's body bore more bruises than he could count. His facial hair was painfully patchy and haphazardly, so he kept clean-shaven. By the time his grandfather – and his father after that – was his age, they had reached surpassed six feet in height and full and impressive beards. Grimoire dreaded that he may never fulfill their expectations. In the meantime, he hoped and dealt with the Valentine men in a more eloquent manner: fancy and polite words. "I ought to depart if I want to be punctual for this appointment, sir." Godric huffed, but acknowledge that the boy was correct and clapped his grandson on the shoulder. "Right you are! Go forth and trounce those ill-mannered city folk, boy."
"Of course, sir," Grimoire muttered as he turned toward the door to conceal his pained expression and escaped out to the carriage. It was dark, like most things in the manor, with Golden Chocobos clad in black armor so they would not appear so bright and as Godric would say with a sneer, "Cheerful." Once inside he regained his composure and waved to the giant in the doorway. "Good health while I am away, sir. Farewell." All Grimoire saw was his grandfather smile ever so slightly and nod in the general direction of his grandchild before he closed the curtain and signaled the driver. As soon as the Valentine manor disappeared behind him, he finally felt safe from his omniscient patriarch. Grimoire collapsed in his seat and nursed the shoulder Godric had tried to wrench from his body. Surely, if he could survive the abuse of his predecessor, surely he could survive Shin-Ra Corporation.