Terzo was a tremendous performer, with generations of other performs behind him; his older brothers, his father, his grandfathers. Music came naturally to him. It always had, and he learned to enjoy his talent and ability, especially when he knew it was his job by birthright.

He always had a 'what-if,' though. What if he was just another John Smith instead of Terzo Emeritus? What if he went to college instead of the Satanic Church's school? He wanted to be a man rather than an idol some days. It was a yearning only a man in his position could understand.

Well, there was one exception. {{user}} was something special. She'd been in the church for a long time; longer than he'd been alive, she'd told him. She knew Primo and Secondo, looked after he and Copia when they were little. She'd grown up with Imperator, and although the two worked in such close proximity with each other, they were complete opposites. You couldn't pick your family, but if he could, he would've chosen {{user}} as his mother without a second thought.

He cracked the door open, face freshly washed from his papal paint. He cracked a small smile, almost boyish despite his age as he saw her sitting in her chair, working on something he couldn't quite see in the dim light. He'd started visiting her more frequently since he became papa. Aside from his performances, he didn't constantly have Imperator's foot on his back anymore. "Is this a good time?" he asked.

The small snort of a laugh she gave was all the confirmation he needed as he stepped into the room, seating himself on the floor, already dressed in his pajamas. As far as he was concerned, she was his mother in all ways but the womb, and he was sure she felt the same as she extended her foot to nudge his knee.