Post by Prince Reese de Somerville on Jan 13, 2008 12:32:54 GMT -5
~10 months ago~
It really was a pathetic piece of real estate. The building was run down, but perfect. Near enough the rest of Night's Doorstep, it took up the whole block and had it's own private well and connected to the City sewers.
"Well, the old owner went bankrupt and is being forced to sell. Shame that, sudden unlucky streak at the tables. Why I myself am not a gambling man." Jean-Luis Marcan was a florid, fat little man, and an excellent banker. He and I had been doing business together since I gave him my first ducat at the age of 17.
"Mmm, the man really should know better than to play me at pickett." Jean-Luis let out a hearty guffaw and slapped me on the back.
"You bankrupted him? Prince Maurice, I must say you are a right bastard! And glad I am to be on your side!"
"Well, I wanted the property and he didn't wish to sell. Had to get creative."
"It's yours now. I've got the deed at my office and the monies all lined up for the transaction. All you need do is sign. then you can start renovating."
"Yes. I'll need twenty thousand or so, I'm thinking to get this place up and running. I'll worry about staffing in a bit. Gratien is planning on moving to the City. I think I'll follow, move in with him for a bit so I can oversee the construction. As soon as it's ready I want to move in, and then get this place opened." I rubbed my fingers over the touchstone in my pocket and couldn't help the triumphant grin.
Finally! No more dreaming about my own place, my own independence. It wasn't just fancy anymore. I, Maurice Hayden de Sommerville was the proud owner of a dump. That would take shape under my hands and become the most lavish casino and club outside the Night Court. Hell, it would be better than Bryony. Those pampered whores wouldn't see what hit them.
"I've got the name of an excellent contractor. I know his mother, and own the deed on her home, so he won't be inclined to dishonesty or shoddy work. What are you going to call this place?" He stuffed his beefy hands into his coat pockets and peered at me through beady eyes.
" Club Fortuna du Diable. It's what got me here in the first place."
It really was a pathetic piece of real estate. The building was run down, but perfect. Near enough the rest of Night's Doorstep, it took up the whole block and had it's own private well and connected to the City sewers.
"Well, the old owner went bankrupt and is being forced to sell. Shame that, sudden unlucky streak at the tables. Why I myself am not a gambling man." Jean-Luis Marcan was a florid, fat little man, and an excellent banker. He and I had been doing business together since I gave him my first ducat at the age of 17.
"Mmm, the man really should know better than to play me at pickett." Jean-Luis let out a hearty guffaw and slapped me on the back.
"You bankrupted him? Prince Maurice, I must say you are a right bastard! And glad I am to be on your side!"
"Well, I wanted the property and he didn't wish to sell. Had to get creative."
"It's yours now. I've got the deed at my office and the monies all lined up for the transaction. All you need do is sign. then you can start renovating."
"Yes. I'll need twenty thousand or so, I'm thinking to get this place up and running. I'll worry about staffing in a bit. Gratien is planning on moving to the City. I think I'll follow, move in with him for a bit so I can oversee the construction. As soon as it's ready I want to move in, and then get this place opened." I rubbed my fingers over the touchstone in my pocket and couldn't help the triumphant grin.
Finally! No more dreaming about my own place, my own independence. It wasn't just fancy anymore. I, Maurice Hayden de Sommerville was the proud owner of a dump. That would take shape under my hands and become the most lavish casino and club outside the Night Court. Hell, it would be better than Bryony. Those pampered whores wouldn't see what hit them.
"I've got the name of an excellent contractor. I know his mother, and own the deed on her home, so he won't be inclined to dishonesty or shoddy work. What are you going to call this place?" He stuffed his beefy hands into his coat pockets and peered at me through beady eyes.
" Club Fortuna du Diable. It's what got me here in the first place."