Empty Canvas; Broken World

Karma raised an eyebrow at the boy's expression, setting his foul-smelling morning drink on a coaster on the table. "Well, not that one." She sniffed. "That one's mine. I wouldn't sell it someone in a million years." Her voice turned thoughtful. "Though, really, I should watch my temper. Nearly fired the lot of them when they asked if they could take it. Almost got their fingerprints all over the frame."

Turning back to the stove she started on the eggs, humming a soft song. "Oh, but they do want more of it. I figured you could just pick a painting you like to show them - you don't really have to make it anything special, I'd save the best for later - just to keep them interested but at bay. I figure if I wasn't their boss, they'd be storming the house right now." She gave another put upon sigh and muttered about art-types and their stubborn persistence.

"Oh, so, I figured that if you did want to go with their ideas, show them some artwork, and the likes, I could get one of Cia's people to be your agent, and get your name around places." She shrugged a shoulder. "Eventually we'd probably organize some sort of art show, and have people bid on it and stuff. Standard procedure or something. Tony from Level Three tried to explain it to me, but that sort of stuff goes right over my head." She waved a hand dismissively, carefully making sure the burner was on the right heat.

"So, what do you say, Liksie?"

Mechanically he leaned over, disrupting Adrian only enough to get a giggle, and grabbed his drink. It was only his still hazy head that drove him to remember why he had even wanted the beverage in the first place. His mind was still a whirl with everything that she was saying to him.

Her comment about her temper, got a smirk before he was back to trying to understand what was happening around him.

"I think that-that sounds... great." He couldn't even bother to try and sound blasé about it. It meant too much for even Feliks Chmerkovskiy to do so.

Karma smirked softly, then deepened her voice in a comical interpretation of his voice. "Gee, thanks for displaying my artwork in your place of business, Tyurma. I don't know where I'd be without you." Her voice rose back to normal, and she shrugged. "Aw, shucks, Liksie. It's no problem. Your art did all the work really." Adrian gave a giggle, and she grinned, pouring the eggs into the now heated pan.

"I'll call Cia's people after breakfast." She said simply, continuing her cooking.

Setting down the mug of coffee, Feliks bent down and scooped Adrian off the floor. The child's mew of protest was stopped when his father started tickling him instead. Swinging across the space, he set him down in his high chair, ruffling the boys hair before sitting at the table himself.

Taking another sip of his coffee he smirked a little, "Thanks Tyurma. I don't know where I'd be without you."

Grinning behind his glass, he was let out a breath, completely content with his morning. He had his son, he had Tyurma - he had his family. And the job was just a bonus. Did he really need anything else?