Chapter 102(orphan)
(Author's note, this entire chapter works best if you imagine the proprietor speaking in the glorious voice of "Niles the butler" from the 1990's tv show "the Nanny", complete with Niles' charming pure cheek).
The extravagant spacious Slaaneshi luxury clothing store was heavily bedecked in expensive pink and crimson velvet. The air in this place was palpably heavy with a feeling of decadent luxury, the very "vibe" of the establishment seemed to positively scream, "you are not welcome here poor person".
Rows of only the most expensive clothing imaginable filled this discerning elite establishment, every item of attire the extremely rich and powerful might desire. They didn't let just ANYBODY inside this exclusive venue, the entrance staff always demanded to know exactly who was entering, and had a very exclusive name list of which people were "somebody" enough to get past the front door.
Inside this luxury venue was currently browsing one such highly placed "somebody", a man with very VERY powerful family connections, a man with access to the Sevenson Matriarch herself, a man of massive wealth and power.
The man was a massive chaos space marine, wearing exquisitely well made master crafted power armour in the midnight blue heraldry of the Night Lords, decorated with priceless precious metals. At his leg a flawless master crafted bolter was magnetically attached to his outer thigh, and at his belt hung six clips of additional ammunition, every single round exquisitely well crafted and personally blessed by the Matriarch herself.
As obviously rich as this Night Lord was, his fine quality armour showed evidence of brutal abusive violence, with titanic gashes and impact dents in the fine surfaces, indicating repeated horrific violence against this man.
Crudely carved into every inch of this armour were such words as "MOTHER FUCKER", "PEDOPHILE", "CHILD MOLESTER", and "LUKE'S PUNCHING BAG". These words spoke of extreme hatred and wrath in the brutal carver of these words, and seemed to be designed to both mock and shame the wearer.
The rich Night Lord seemed unbothered by his defaced armour, dull familiarity desensitising him to the words, and he continued browsing for children's clothing in this high class clothing store.
The dashingly dressed proprietor of the store urbanely minced over to assist this important customer.
"Exalted Lord, may I humbly be of any assistance?," the proprietor offered with fawning obsequiousness.
"Ah, yes, do you have any crotchless panties that would fit a toddler?," the Night Lord asked eagerly.
The side of the proprietor's face twitched very slightly, but he nevertheless showed flawless gushing sycophancy as he informed the Night Lord that his "unique" request was not actually something they had in stock.
"Hmm, in that case I would like to have my request tailor made, one hundred crotchless panties in a variety of colours, sized to fit ages 1 to 3 years old," the Night Lord requested expectantly.
The proprietor paused for a long moment, and then nodded saying "of course my lord, I will have these... "Items", made for you by the end of the week. Will you be paying on account?"
"Yes yes, account is fine, you can mail the items to my address," the Night Lord agreed impatiently.
"Of course my lord," the proprietor said and left with an exaggerated respectful bow to organise this rather disturbing request.
Here at "Elegance Tailors", those elite individuals with the raw wealth to afford the extremely high prices could order absolutely anything they liked, no questions asked, (though not without some well deserved awkwardness when merited).
The proprietor went to his preternaturally skilled tailoring staff in the back of the store and relayed this rather controversial order, noting the details in the store bookwork and adding the order to the account of this regular customer.
The proprietor returned to the main part of the store, and was delighted to see a discreet flashing light under the counter indicating that the front door staff had admitted more patrons into the store.
A large group of what looked like imperial nuns in tattered habits were now entering his exclusive establishment! What were the front door staff THINKING letting this common rabble in!
"Wait wait wait, not another step inside! Who "exactly" are you?," the proprietor insisted sternly.
The group of nuns paused timidly, and began saying such things as "I'm Sister Mary", "I'm Sister Brooke", and various other first names.
"I don't mean your names my dear ladies, I mean "who" are you?, Elegance Tailors has a very exclusive entry list, and we admit only those of proven high society," the proprietor insisted.
A Night Lord neophyte in the heraldry of a Sevenson then entered behind the group of nuns...
"Ah... Are you ladies with this Sevenson?," the proprietor pressed delicately.
The nuns all nodded uncertainly.
The proprietor ignored the nuns now and focused his attention on the only member of the group with any right to be here.
"Well met noble space marine, my name is Richard Muhammad, the owner and proprietor of this humble store." The proprietor introduced with a dashing bow.
"Hello..." The neophyte said taciturnly with an unusual accent in his testosterone deepened voice, saying nothing further.
"I do humbly beg your pardon honoured neophyte, but might I confirm that you are indeed a Sevenson?," Richard the proprietor politely pressed.
"My last name is Sevenson, yes," the mystery neophyte confirmed curtly.
""Which" of the Sevensons are you if I may ask, I confess that I do not recognise you," Richard continued pressing, making absolutely sure that he wasn't just letting riffraff in.
"Franklin Sevenson is my name, what is it to you?," the neophyte replied belligerently.
"Franklin, Franklin... Hmm, who are your parents, "if" I may be so bold as to enquire?," Richard continued undismayed.
"My mother is Wendy Sevenson and my father is Luke Sevenson..." The neophyte began.
"GRANDSON! Finally I get to meet you! Let your granddad give you a hug!" The rich Night Lord customer suddenly interrupted with joyful exclaim, and ran to give the surprised neophyte a hug.
"YOU! YOU are the one who sexually molested my mother as a little girl! You MONSTER!" The neophyte roared in outrage.
The neophyte was now brawling with the other customer in Richard's store! Their uncouth violence was making a frightful mess of the discerning merchandise!
"Be careful my lords, those items are expensive!" Richard frantically urged the two Night Lords as an entire rack of clothing was endangered!
(CRUNCH!)
Richard winced in dismay!
"Franklin stop fighting!" One of the nuns dominantly commanded.
Franklin stopped still as a statue, and offered no resistance as the other Night Lord roughed him up a bit for a moment before stopping.
Richard looked at the nuns nervously, he had seen Sevenson submission instincts before and easily saw that these nuns were the dominatrix lovers of this Franklin neophyte. Richard knew from painful experience just how dangerous a Sevenson Night Lord's dominatrix could be if slighted, as such women had absolute power over their Night Lord lovers.
Richard was now feeling fairly confident that this neophyte was who he said he was, as the infamous Champion Wendy Sevenson did indeed have a lost son named Franklin, and had recently successfully completed a lengthy mission to regain her long lost son, it all fitted in place. With Wendy's father now accepting the neophyte as his own grandson, Richard was not about to make a scene by questioning this identity.
Well, the exquisitely rich and highly placed Chaos Champion Wendy Sevenson was certainly upper class enough to gain entrance to Elegance Tailors, and any biological son of hers automatically passed the entry requirements as well.
Richard dropped his earlier attitude towards Franklin, and became fawningly sycophantic towards him with extreme respect, (and just a little bit of snark).
"Welcome to Elegance Tailors honoured Franklin Sevenson, I take it that these excellent ladies are with you?," Richard gushed as soon as the two Night Lords calmed down enough to engage in conversation.
"These are my nuns, you shall not touch them," Franklin growled threateningly.
"Of course my lord, I would never dream of touching your, ah... "Nuns"." Richard reassured gushingly.
"So Franklin my boy, why is it that I have only just met you?, And why wasn't I invited to your wedding..." The grandfather asked awkwardly.
"Oh my," Richard mouthed quietly, sorry he didn't have popcorn right now.
"Because my father told me what you did to him and my mother! I haven't even met my grandmother either because of you!" Franklin spat with rage.
Richard looked from Night Lord to Night Lord, following the back and forth as though watching a ball game.
"You haven't?, But how can that be?, My wife mentioned meeting you on multiple occasions," the Night Lord asked in confusion.
"She has?, I have met so many family members since arriving here, maybe I did meet her without realising it?, What is her name?," Franklin asked nonplussed.
"My dear grandson, my wife your grandmother is the Sevenson Matriarch herself!"
"WHAT!?" Franklin and the entire group of nuns spluttered in disbelief.
"Why didn't anyone TELL me that my grandmother was that, that... DAEMON!? Oh by the Emperor this is terrible!" Franklin lamented in a voice that sounded sickened.
"Given your reaction I am beginning to suspect why nobody told you..." His grandfather noted quietly.
"This is HORRIBLE! I thought that daemon was a far distant relative, not my own only GRANDMOTHER!" Franklin balked and violently vomited all over Richard's pristine floor!
"I don't believe it, you are lying! I don't even know you! You could be anyone and just lying to me!" Franklin spat through his vomit.
Richard respectfully spoke up, "my lord Franklin, this "honourable" Night Lord here is Nathan Hornswoggle, husband of the Sevenson Matriarch, father of the exalted Wendy and Luke Sevenson, and paternal patriarch of the entire Sevenson dynasty. He is telling the truth."
"But but but, look at your armour! My father beats you up! You couldn't possibly be the husband of the Matriarch, she wouldn't allow such treatment to her own husband!" Franklin argued.
"You would really think so wouldn't you..." Nathan said sadly.
"One might..." Richard quipped very quietly.
"It doesn't make sense, why would she allow this to continue?," Franklin insisted.
"I am a child molester who personally molested every single one of her children back when she was a defenceless mortal woman... I am not exactly... Popular, in her good graces. Were I not her own husband then I fear she would likely kill me herself," Nathan confided with brutal honesty.
Franklin grimaced in disgust before Richard could say something fitting, but nodded bitterly in understanding at this reasonably plausible explanation. Richard let the uncomfortable silence hang.
"But wait, you said your last name is Hornswoggle, not Sevenson, so why doesn't the family bear your name?," Franklin asked suddenly.
"Well, mostly they don't take my last name because... I am a child molester who molested all my kids, and they disowned me to the point of dropping my name... I am not very popular..." Nathan mused sadly.
"You sicken me!" Franklin spat in disgust.
Nathan snarled with psychotic rage and began savagely beating Franklin up! The pair were knocking down displays, trampling clothes fallen on the floor, and bending and mangling the clothing racks! The priceless merchandise was being badly damaged in the melee!
"My Lord! Please be careful! You will destroy my store!" Richard pleaded the enraged Nathan.
"What?! Oh very well I will spare your store! See that my order is delivered on time!" Nathan barked and stormed out before he caused any more damage.
Franklin got to his feet, his face covered in blood but his wounds already healed, and bitterly dusted himself off. He had been no match for the massive fully grown Night Lord in power armour, and had been soundly defeated in the brawling.
The nuns fussed over their lover like overly protective mothers, and Richard's staff members quickly tidied up the aftermath of the brief fighting.
"So... What brings you here my lord?," Richard asked Franklin awkwardly once the store was completely in order.
"Violet told me to meet her here, she should have arrived by now. I don't know what is delaying her," Franklin explained, raising more questions in place of the one it answered.
"Violet?, Violet who?," Richard pressed delicately.
"Violet Smith my step sister, I am betrothed to marry her," Franklin announced defensively.
Richard raised an eyebrow aristocratically at this open admission of incest, but held his rapier wit to himself without commenting.
"So, Violet Smith, your betrothed, and also your... Step sister... To each his own my lord," Richard said drolly, unable to help himself any longer in the face of this obvious lack of class.
"Yes, Violet my betrothed. Her mother is the unholy daemon princess TigerLily," Franklin confessed distastefully.
"Ah, you mean THAT Violet Smith! The commoner mutant "waif" that the royal Wendy Sevenson raised as her own daughter and... Elevated, above her natural status in life... I am familiar with the particular... Ah, "young lady", that you speak of," Richard said, fighting hard to keep the distain from his voice.
Franklin looked moronically confused but nodded uncertainly like a complete commoner.
"So Violet is meeting you here. To purchase clothing perchance?," Richard asked suavely.
"The entire bridal party is heading here to buy wedding clothes. The old wedding clothes were eaten by TigerLily's filthy alien pet "Chappie" the tyranid!" Franklin explained with obvious bitterness.
Richard recoiled.
"My word! You are not bringing that loathsome creature Chappie anywhere near this store I hope!" Richard ejaculated in horror.
(Author's note, stop laughing, an "ejaculation" has an alternative meaning that describes the act of speaking words very spontaneously as in a sudden outburst. In Sherlock Holmes one of the male characters ejaculated from a window at the people outside, and another character was awoken by a sudden ejaculation. *Snickers* (to those who picked up the reference here, yes I learned this from QI))
"No, TigerLily has taken the filthy abomination away somewhere with her," One of the nuns reassured him.
"Far away I can only hope, that corpulent gourmandiser has devoured many a clothing establishment completely out of business." Richard replied disapprovingly.
"Gourmandiser?," Franklin asked confused.
"It's called a "vocabulary" my lord," Richard quipped dryly.
"I think that "gourmandiser" means alien?," one of the nuns quite incorrectly suggested.
"Oh my word," Richard drawled in very subtly condescending amusement.
"A gourmandiser is one who routinely eats to excess, A "glutton" my lord and ladies," Richard lectured the uncouth barbarians.
"Perhaps later my lord would be interested to learn the secrets of making fire?," Richard offered wittily.
The group of commoners merely blinked in confusion.
"Never mind my lord and ladies, come, there are some seats over here, you can sit as you await your unpunctual companions," Richard directed them, eyes twinkling with cheeky charm.
The group of lower orders sat down as directed in a large collection of luxurious velvet chairs, and Richard returned to his counter, eyes twinkling with amusement.
Richard pottered about with various petty tasks for maybe five minutes, when the light under his counter flashed once more, indicating the admission of yet more customers.
An entire aviary of Clan Muhammad bird mutants filed into the store, and Richard minced over to greet them.
"Ah, may I offer any of you fine ladies a cracker?," Richard drawled cheekily.
The group of avian ladies squawked with laughter at his pure cheek and flicked their wrists at his playful mischief.
"Oh distant cousin Richard, you are too much," one of the feathered ladies giggled.
"Ahem, "very" distant cousin. Our family tree may bear the same trunk, but some of us became tall elegant branches... Whilst others became grubby roots down in the muck and dirt," Richard amended with charmingly executed haughtiness.
The bird mutants all laughed uproariously and commended his wit.
The entire vast "Muhammad" family line in the Sevenson Night Lord entourage could trace their ancestry back thousands of years, all the way to the depraved Night Lord chaos sorcerer Vladimir Muhammad, a madman who had deliberately fathered children to provide himself with living test subjects for his unnatural experiments.
Those children who survived had bred, creating generations of descendants in an ever growing family tree. Some lines of descendants had risen to sophistication... Others had gone in the other direction.
The telepathic bird mutants all snorted with laughter at his thoughts.
"You love us, admit it," one of the bird mutants accused him mischievously.
"I would rather die," Richard drawled drolly.
The birds were once again in a fit of giggles.
"Violet," Franklin called, clomping over.
"The esteemed Lord Barbarian approaches," Richard drawled softly.
The bird ladies erupted into fresh titters.
The two groups combined into one at this point, and the bird mutants produced a bruise colour haired, deranged looking, gagged nun in a metal pillory from amongst their ranks.
"Sister Superior Clementine!" Franklin exclaimed.
"Ah, I see you brought a table. Over there is a good spot for it," Richard observed facetiously, but the group ignored him.
"You can have her back, DON'T bring her next time," the birds scolded Franklin.
"Oh dear, did she pee on the mat or something?," Richard quipped.
The birds were once again giggling with laughter.
"(Sigh), well I "guess" I shall offer you feathered friends the family discount, just promise to stop telling people we are in any way related," Richard allowed indulgently, earning himself a happy hug from several of the avian guests.
***...
