In which Hordak has a very unpleasant brunch meeting.

It was eleven in the morning, exactly on the dot, when Hordak walked through the door of the (new, expensive, and very upscale) restaurant that had been picked out for brunch, raging at himself beneath a cracking mask of stoicism. The agreed upon time was eleven. He should have arrived earlier, he shouldn't have arrived just at the time. There was no excuse, absolutely none, for his tardiness!

At a table by the window was Prime, looking to have been there for at least a little while. With one hand he was toying with the menu, and with the other he ran the metallic claw covering his finger along the rim of a water glass.

When he noticed Hordak approaching, he smiled.

Seeing his smile—it made Hordak feel small. Scared. Like the frightened child who was always hidden in his brothers shadows, groomed and molded to be a perfect replica, obeying every demand and command that came from the older brother's lips.

"Little brother," Prime greeted, louder than necessary, loud enough to draw attention from anyone sitting close, to draw their attention onto Hordak—so they could judge him in silence for his lateness. He placed the menu onto the table, gestured to one of the two empty seats. "I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't be able to come."

Hordak cursed himself. He should have arrived sooner. He shouldn't have made his brother wait. He should have—

He made his way to the offered seat, setting in and sitting ramrod straight. "I'm sorry, Prime," Hordak apologized with a shamed dip of his head.

He'd been on a call with Entrapta, so enthralled with listening to her rambles on the newest innovations she was trying on Emily, enthralled by her excitement and technological genius, enthralled by the sound of her voice and her genuine joy—he had let time pass and made the inexcusable mistake of making his elder brother wait.

He didn't blame Entrapta for this, no, this was Hordak's fault and his alone.

"Ah, but you're here now, that's what matters," Prime said with a simple wave of his hand, as if this insult had never happened. "Please, take a look at the menu. I must say, it has been so long since we've had a proper sit down to eat with one another."

They ate together infrequently, and when they did, it was almost always at Prime's penthouse, dining on extravagantly lavish dishes from across the world and drinking expensive wine as Prime talked about his latest plans to expand his corporate empire or the newest businesses he had brought into his light. Prime only ever ate at a restaurant if it were with his business partners, when he felt the need to spoil them to gain loyalty, information, obedience, and whatever else it was he desired from them.

It was as much part of manipulation to the weak-minded as it was a show of his affluence and finances by simply spending hundreds on a single meal.

"Of course," Hordak said, taking the menu with stiff movements and skimming over the contents. He couldn't help but feel rather underwhelmed by the options in comparison to what Prime would have his personal chefs cook at his own home. The meals offered felt mundane. Or, perhaps it was simply a sign of just how universally loved bacon and eggs were regardless of social class. Keeping those thoughts to himself, he dared a glance at Prime, who had begun gazing disinterestedly at passing people through the window. "What do you recommend?"

That got his attention, and Prime smiled once more. "Ah? Personally I am thinking of ordering some oyster stew, I am quite fond of seafood. Perhaps a light salad to go with it. Would you care to try?"

"If it's all right."

"Of course it would be," with that, Prime gestured for a passing waiter, giving him their orders and menus and sending the young man on his way. Personally, Hordak did not like oysters, he did not like seafood in general, it caused his stomach discomfort when he ate. But, as they were Prime's favorite, Hordak would always force himself to tolerate it in his brother's presence. Undoubtedly, Prime was well aware of what seafood did to him, but he was always silent on the matter.

As they were left waiting for their food, Prime turned to Hordak and smiled once more. "Now, I think we should discuss your progress at that dingy mall you've been working on," he said, crossing one leg over the other and brining his chin to rest on his knuckles. "How are your two stores doing, anyway? They haven't proven to be too much for you, have they?"

Hordak stiffened even more, his mind gathering up the latest profits, records, and reviews. "Too much? They are almost too little," he said. It was a lie, of course, managing one business was tricky, running two at once wasn't entirely easy, but he couldn't let Prime know, It'd be considered weakness. How dare Hordak struggle with two stores when Prime was thriving with countless under his thumb! It would be pathetic of him to fail at his given task!

"The Fright Zone has the highest profit rate out of all the electronic stores in Etheria," he continued, almost robotically. "Our sales have been on a gradual, but consistent, rise for the past six months. While reviews are primarily positive, there are the occasional negative ones."

"Hmm," Prime didn't look away, his smile had faded into a thoughtful frown. Hordak swallowed, scared, unable to show it. "And that coffee shop?"

His mind shifted from the Fight Zone to the coffee shop. "Coffee Horde is the second most popular coffee shop in Etheria. As with the Fright Zone, sales have been a steady climb upward. Our only real business rival is Bright Moon. While we provide better and more varied coffees, their pastries do outsell ours. I have been willing to overlook it seeing Coffee Horde is a coffee shop, not a bakery."

"And who allowed you to?" Prime demanded. His voice hadn't raised, it wasn't angry, and yet there was a menacing bite to it. Hordak flinched back. "Coffee Horde sells pastries, as well as coffee, and many customers may come in for something such as a muffin or scone to go with their drink. Yet, you are fine with customers going to this 'Bright Moon' instead of the Horde? To give this other store our customers and profits? You find that acceptable?"

Fumbling for his words, Hordak could only dip his head down, look at his lap so he was no longer looking at Prime. "No, of course not." He was glad that his brother could not see his hands balled up into fists on his lap. "I will… I will see to it that our recipes are improved, work on advertising our food more. Perhaps a limited time special or two to bring in more customers specifically for the pastries. Would that suffice?"

Finally, he looked back up at Prime, his brother looked thoughtful, one finger to his lips, before finally nodding. "If you succeed? Then, yes," he conceded, but his eyes narrowed as he looked to Hordak once more. "When I next check in, I hope you have better news to tell me. Else, I may have to doubt your abilities and relocate you somewhere more…fitting for your ineptitude."

Hordak looked down again. "Of course, Prime."

The server had returned, two oyster stews and two small salads for them. Prime said something, a compliment to the young man, a simple urging for Hordak to eat before his food cooled and went to waste.

Yet, suddenly Hordak didn't feel all that hungry.