Aeorex Khestralicht
Initiated
Posts: 19
Title: Council-Elect for Third District, CEO of Ouroboros
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Post by Aeorex Khestralicht on Mar 3, 2014 15:50:18 GMT -5
Blue embers flared as lips pursed around the cigarette's filter to take a deep inhale of its burning toxins. The small, black cylinder was casually plucked away then after but a pair of seconds in order to favor the resulting exhalation, laced with the sweet, rolling smoke that subtly skewed the room's scent only in the slightest. A newer investment, the momentary thought of his closest cohort's disdain for the habit touched on amusement, curious if the development would put her hackles any more at ease, and if she'd consider that it might have been one that factored her preferences into account. Far from the thickly clouded fog of days long past, the spacious office of Ouroboros's CEO held the calm, relaxing atmosphere of a private smoking lounge, in which one might expect to find an array of the finest cigars. It would, that is, were the space not such a testament to the modern age's emphasis on simplicity of design. Rectangular with its only door and one, windowed wall at opposite ends, the only surface not of an apparent marble so black that it reflected nearly as clear as a mirror's surface upon direct light was the man's leather chair at his desk. The room's slightly elevated second tier rising from its halfway point and favoring the desk did with only a few inches all it took to voicelessly suggest, to the observant and informed, the throne rooms of old and forgotten kings.
A suite of cellos danced invisibly in the air, their music barely more than a whisper and their source equally a mystery. Images of varying styles of art lined either of the office's longer walls, and in just the time it took for one to notice that the picture's surface was one in the same with the wall's, it was already shifting into a different piece. Scenes of farmer's fields basking in the orange glow of the evening's warm sun and other landscapes alternated with portraits of nameless folk in varying melancholic or quiet pleasantry in a pattern that, when paired with the music, almost seemed to join the ethereal dance in its timing. Nearer to the room's farthest end, on either side of the man's desk, a more steady subject was maintained, but no more permanently than the ghostly, shifting pieces of art. A rolling tally of numbers and characters of apparently differing alphabets scrolled by before shifting into a graph tracking the upwards rise of some unknown variable. A similar tracking of various markets played out upon the surface of the large and otherwise featureless desk, its only distortion the physically present pair of ashtray and silver visor the man was typically never seen without in public.
The CEO's attention, however, seemed ignorant of all these stimuli. Rather, they formed the distant echo of a background for his primary thoughts as he favored the window looking out upon the city's towers, pillars of steam, and ongoing network of the midday's bustle. The act of clasping his hands at the rear of his black slacks' waist with absentminded care for the burning end of his cigarette pulled the off-white, scarcely reflective material of his long-sleeve button up tighter against the somewhat lean, highly conditioned muscles of his torso. That his coat and tie were already lazily discarded to hang upon the back of his chair were an indicator of the time he'd been here, as were the small, unclasped buttons of his shirt that hinted at revealing the collarbones at the base of his neck, also fully exposing his forearms in a casual air that would have his tailors reeling in fits of frustration. In truth, he'd only been here for an hour, but he seemed to be settling in for what was typically the longest duration of a single setting in his days' ongoing schedule.
Far away from the music and art of a society in the prime of its luxury and cultural expression--which several of the leading psychologists' studies showed to be conducive to a productive mindset--his thoughts lingered in the distant recollection of times wholly alien to his present setting. Last night's sleep after Floraelia‘s visit, be it little more than the standard hour or not, had been riddled with troubling dreams and recollections of the conflict and turmoil of his past. Days of bloodshed, when he had not been Aeorex Khestralict, but only the Wolf. Finding the topic foreboding and mysterious in its timing he nonetheless used the disconcerting energies provided to better fuel his personal exercises with Asurnararri, grateful for the King’s services in exponentially boosting the productivity of such endeavors. Now cleaned and refreshed from the sweat and exhaustion of his exertions, he noted faintest trace of brimstone amid the concoction of his cologne, cigarette, and bodily pheromones. Despite that it was likely only he that could distinguish it with his particularly acute senses, he knew that it was nothing he could wash away, being so far removed from a physical source as it was. He had drawn deep this morning, and the result left him both relieved from the active release of his frustrations and slightly surreal, if only to consider the dreams’ meaning and timing.
Finally tearing away from such incorporeal topics, his attentions turned to his desk as his shoes clicked upon the floor, lightly extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray after a final draw of its contents, fingers moving across the marble surface as the displayed information responded to his touch with an electric vivaciousness. Reports and statistics scrolled across his vision as he hurried them along by his touch, pausing upon the topic he’d been considering earlier. Statistics concerning the primary causes of death in advanced years of life, ranging from disease to organ failure, as reported by the several medical facilities and hospitals scattered throughout the metropolis around them. Leaning over to bring his other hand into play, slender digits manipulated the information to bring up a report by the most prestigious college of medical studies--largely funded, of course, by Ouroboros itself--within the city. He stood there for several moments, weighing decisions that effected the lives of all those in the city. With the vast improvements that had been made in healthcare despite how relatively new Ouroboros was to the scene, thinking ahead was as much a business decision as it was speculative one. It was eventual that as people began to live longer, they would begin to encounter medical problems less researched by the most advanced of minds. Cornering the market on the sensitive medical issues of old age and advanced, long-term diseases as they related to it before the game even truly began in full was a necessity. Deciding where best to apply this research, and the funds for it, occupied him for the next several moments, his only pause concerning the time.
He was sure that Aiden would be arriving soon, as per the strict regimen she applied herself to. Granted, his schedule was equally as full, if not more so, concerning certain topics of economizing his body’s requirements as it related to his daily activities, but it was still a topic that was no less entertaining to poke fun at, and he smiled.
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Post by Aidan Dirieté on Mar 3, 2014 16:53:40 GMT -5
Aidan Dirieté pressed her lips together into a thin line as she felt the ground beneath her begin to rise, her delicate brow furrowing in concentration as the floors of Tower Two clicked by on the bright green readout overhead. The slightly-sick feeling that always occupied the nether regions of her stomach when an elevator suddenly accelerated was not what had the woman’s features masked in concern, despite that Aidan had never been the largest admirer of rapidly-moving small spaces; instead, it was the bright orange numbers scrolling across the otherwise clear tab of glass clasped gently in her arms that drew forth her concern. The three P.M. market updates were mostly fine, as was to be expected with an economy as stable as Vascxious Sigma’s, but the data below, a recent editorial headline from the Trade City Times, had drawn up claims that Ourobouros was monopolizing medical technology that should have been publicly licensed, drawing criticism and small sell off in their medical shell company’s stock. Undoubtedly, Mr. Aeorex had already seen the numbers if not the headline, and would expect a plan of action, which Aidan, as his COO, was responsible for developing. It wouldn’t be too difficult a problem to take care of, Aidan knew, but these sorts of publicity skewers from the pro-pubic resource lobby were becoming frequent enough to become a consistent nuisance rather than an occasional annoyance. A more permanent solution would have to be enacted, to keep the public’s attention from becoming too focused, and such a solution was always delicate in nature.
Aidan steadied herself against the side rail as the lift slid to a stop, a polite ding! welcoming her to the Corner Office as the doors opened. The woman strode from the flying death-box with calculated haste, sharply exhaling a breath she had not been aware she was holding once she was safely out in the open of the expansive office. The clink! of the woman’s heels announced her arrival more poignantly than the elevator could hope to, and despite that the CEO had his back to the point of her arrival, Aidan knew that Aeorex was more than aware of her presence. She didn’t hesitate to begin speaking.
“Good afternoon, sir. I assume you’ve seen the Virhees Medical numbers?”
The drop only amounted to a 30 point swing, but for a company Ouroboros had only acquired a year prior, any drop at Virhees was worth paying close attention to: the company had to at least keep up appearances of being self-sustained, and as a public corporation, Ouroboros could not easily funnel money into its coffers to make up for a shareholder-created deficit. While she knew Aeorex would likely be aware of the drop, the reason would be a piece of information he expected from Aidan, in an annotated fashion and closely followed by a solution.
“The Times ran another article, this time claiming Ouroboros is secretly bankrolling Virhees in order to horde their medical breakthroughs and control prices, making treatment inaccessible to the lower and middle class city residents. Our PR team is already drafting a strong denial and offering to send the publisher a copy of our books, which demonstrates that we have no financial connection to Virhees at all. By tomorrow I will have an editorial prepared in a rival publication coming out against the divisive accusations.”
Aidan strode to the CEO’s side at the window’s edge, glancing to him before turning back to the scrolling orange numbers on her information pad. “You have a five o’clock meeting with the operations director at the Virhees research wing: should I postpone it, or ask for a location change? We wouldn’t want to give any intrepid reporters more fuel to add to the fire they are so desperate to start. Oh, and the projections for the outside agriculture division you asked for on Friday should be complete by the end of this week: the data should be enough that a decision to pursue or not can be made by the next meeting of the Board.”
Ms. Dirieté pressed her tab against her perfectly-crisp suit jacket, which today was light-grey in color, as well as perfectly matched to her slacks and the deep charcoal of her shoes. The light violet eyes of the Chief Operations Officer drew to Aeorex’s untraditional features as she waited in silence for further instructions, taking the time to trace her gaze over the lines of his jaw, an absentminded pursuit she often found herself participating in while in his presence.
Now standing close enough, Aidan’s nose twitched as she caught the scent of his burnt-tobacco death-cylinder, which drew that thin line of her lips back into existence. She did despise that he smoked, and usually made no attempt to silence her objections. Today was no exception: “I suppose I should schedule your vent cleanings for four times a week instead of two. Would you like me to take the added cost out of your health benefits, or simply raise the premiums on healthy employees?” A slight smirk tugged on the corner of her mouth as she spoke, and she hazarded a glance at her tab, miming as though she were ready to make the necessary scheduling changes to enact her threat. These verbal jabs were often the best part of her day, and therefore would be cherished until the CEO decided it was time to get back to business. As soon as he did, she would lay the other news she had on his plate . . .
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Aeorex Khestralicht
Initiated
Posts: 19
Title: Council-Elect for Third District, CEO of Ouroboros
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Post by Aeorex Khestralicht on Mar 3, 2014 21:34:34 GMT -5
Still standing, Aeorex continued to look over the information displayed upon the surface of his desk, the wispy plumage of a line of smoke rising from the mostly extinguished cigarette rising beside him like a poor taste in incense. Aeorex did not spare a glance upward at the indication of Aidan’s arrival when the door chimed and opened, but instead waited until she’d crossed the majority of the room, heels clicking decisively on that black, mirror-like marble. His attentions lifting toward her, the slightest grin tugging at the corner of his lips was as much from his pleasure to see her for the day as it was in amusement for her timing. It wasn’t that he was paranormally gifted in the field of foresight, of course, but that the woman’s schedule would not allow for abnormality. Her strict devotion to the structure of her duties was heartwarming, if not downright obsessive. Then again, he expected no less from his most trusted business associate; she simply had so little failings that she had yet to fully experience that he also demanded such performance. “Good afternoon, Aidan.” He’d insisted on using her first name for such a time now that it almost didn’t occur to him that he’d prefer she didn’t.
Rising to stand more fully in stature rather than to keep leaning over his desk, he let his grin dim somewhat by reflex as the pair moved--as per the norm of Aidan’s not unappreciated straightforwardness--directly into business. “I have.” Scrolling a constant stream of information as they did, one of the many displays on the wall showed a constant tracking of Virhees Medicals’ numbers. That he was aware, and yet continued to seemingly postulate at the continued monopolization of medical research and development either spoke of a plan on his part, or, as she correctly assumed, that he expected a countering action to be devised by her. As for the article in the Times, of this he was also painfully aware. Though he didn’t consider himself truly caught up in the deeper trappings of the habits of high society, it had done well to dim the taste of his morning coffee to read over the article. The recollection of the initial frustration was but a flicker of a thought as he moved, now, to sit in his leather chair. Turning it so that he may face her fully even while seated, he let an elbow rest upon his desk and rested his cheek against a loose fist.
Letting his eyes fall from her to favor the surface of his desk, he took a moment to think over the amount of information she’d given him. The true difficulty of the whole affair was that it had to be guised by the very methods explained and accounted for by Aidan; as per the spirit of the free market within the Trade City, the complete monopolization of an industry was seen by the uninformed populace as a daunting threat. But a threat of what? While Vascxious Sigma had been no village of wooden huts and torches before Ouroboros, it had radically changed the landscape by economizing and streamlining several fields of research. In effect, its greatest successes were because of the fact that it often tended to act in ways that were contrary to the idea of fair business. In doing so, it had been able to pool the collected resources of absorbed entities, and improved the efficiency of all of them. It was the largest investor in the facilitation of education, the implementation of a changing healthcare, and the most giving donator to a list of charities longer than Aeorex cared to count. Perhaps because of last night’s dreams, his mind considered his experience of an alternative in society.
His expression shifted to something uncharacteristically stern, though no less sharp than the norm. That he found the matter so troubling might have been a surprise given that it surely wasn’t the first instance of such a happening, but his sudden shift of mood had little to do with the specifics of the events. This free speech against his company was as much a byproduct of a society in the height of productivity and luxury as were the pieces of art transitioning along the walls, or the pleasant dance of cellos in the air around them. Were this another time and place, when the author of such an article did not enjoy such a comfortable environment, he pondered at how truly the man could have afforded to lash out at one of the city’s largest contributors to the well being of its people. Visibly shaking the contemplation from his thoughts, he was not swift enough in the transition of his mood to let the woman fully escape the frustrated glare of that predatory gaze, his brow furrowed and the light lining his irises a hint brighter in its intensity in response to the negative emotions and contemplations as it met her own gaze.
“I’ll trust the PR team to defend us against the accusations.” While Aidan and other highly skilled individuals were all too accustomed to efficiently shining the brightest and best lights on Ouroboros, the public actions of the company spoke largely for themselves. While concern for the middle and lower classes might have been voiced in the article, the author’s downplay of efforts to meet the needs of such classes bordered on erroneous. This, paired with the fact that as a politician, Aeorex had been an adamant reformer on the issues of healthcare as it related to the financial system, made an effective combination of state and private efforts to better act on the behalf on those not among the elite within the society. The distance between economic classes was not so broad as within some societies, and the means were available for those that excelled in both talent and determination to gain upward momentum. Of course, the truly frustrating issue was that, because of the methods that it had to employ to achieve such ends, the full reach of the company’s benevolent actions couldn’t be known without also admitting to several of the claims against it.
“As for the Times...” he glanced to the window, as if the entity were standing there to be regarded while he spoke, “...I’ll have the author looked into. If this is some kind of personal vendetta, then I’ll ensure that it’s handled very personally.” The brash suggestion was indicative of his earlier days in the Trade City, and whether or not he was serious was left to the air of mystery. “In the meantime, as a favor to me for a small hunch, I’d like you to investigate the financial records of the paper and its staff. If a single writer or group of them are making regular accusations against us, it’s possible that they are being funded to do so by a rival or someone otherwise spited.” He paused, returning his attentions to her once more. “For now, postpone the meeting. Virhees only needs to deny the claims and continue its work, allowing us to perform the majority of counteraction.” The chance for some reporter to spot the CEO and the director together was, despite his channels of secrecy, not an instance that he felt like risking for the sake of instructing the other to simply keep calm and carry on. In regards to the final bit of business regarding outside agriculture, he simply nodded, a smile coming to his lips. “Thank you.” He wondered if her ending on a different, and potentially more uplifted topic was an intentional play.
Just as he considered lighting another cigarette, a decision not wholly to prompt the other into witty banter, she did a dutifully wonderful job of saving him the trouble. Leaning back in his chair just slightly as a visible indicator of his relief as the atmosphere shifted from business to that of something more personal, his grin was nothing short of mischievous as she elaborated on her disdain for his habit, apparently failing to take his generosity of changing the death-cylinders to be less repulsive to her. He gave a slight laugh, shaking his head. “Will you never relent on this issue, Aidan? Perhaps you’d rather I enjoy a different habit; drinking, for instance? Granted, with your assistance, I’m sure my being drunk on the job would affect the company little, but...” Just then, his eyes darted to her tab as her attentions did the same, and he feigned a worried expression, “Hey!” He leaned forward, almost laughably slow for the true speed of which he was capable, making a pathetic reach in a knowingly failed effort to pry the object away from her. That smile of mischief present all the while, he’d lean back and lift his hands in surrender, laughing before his expression shifted to pout slightly. “Fine, take the costs out of my pay.” A pay that was much lower than to be expected, as she well knew. Settling once more into a relaxed position, he gazed up to her now, with an rejuvenated charismatic energy, moving only to cross one leg over the other as he waited; either she had more business to approach him with, or this bit of play might continue. As necessary as the first was, he could honestly use a bit of the latter.
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Post by Aidan Dirieté on Mar 9, 2014 11:51:53 GMT -5
Aidan Dirieté kept her eyes trained on Aeorex with customary laser-like focus, the pupils of her violet eyes dilating to near inhuman proportions as she listened to the CEO speak. Just as Aidan managed to maintain her ‘predictability’, so to did Aeorex retain his penchant for the opposite: the woman was surprised just how invested the CEO seemed in their little problem, especially considering that it usually would have been a situation he brushed off to the side, allowing her to handle the small details. As far as Aidan was concerned, that meant there was some other variable in the equation that she was unaware of. Or, at the very least, something about the accusations had struck a bit too close to home for the CEO. Ms. Dirieté was aware of her employer’s growing interest in the medical sector: after all, Virhees was only one of a handful of companies Ouroboros had acquired through various means in the past few years, and Aeorex had come out publicly in support of growing healthcare access as a campaign point. Yet, the woman suspected that there was an underlying cause for his interest: Aidan filed the information away to look into later.
The woman yelped slightly as she pulled back, her body moving just outside the range of the CEO’s grasp as he half-heartedly lunged for her tablet. The COO’s movement was graceful, despite the sharp, undoubtedly-unbalancing heels of her shoes, and her skillful step back was done in such a way that it would seem almost dancelike in quality, begging the question as to the level of physical ability that the woman actually possessed. Aeorex, interestingly, would never have been able to note dance in her background files, nor any activity during her early life that would indicate movement training of any kind. Aidan always seemed to be extremely physically capable, especially when surprised. Seemingly unabashed, the woman stifled a grin, turning it instead into a slight smirk as the CEO joked of his habitual choices.
“Though I am sure the company would suffer little if you were to take up drinking, the level of intrigue you would undoubtedly bring to your press conferences would be more than enough for me to advise against it. Though it would be entertaining to watch you explain to the press corps how moronic they are, I doubt it would do anything to help the company’s standing.” The woman stifled the urge to rib her boss as to a need for him to ‘lighten up’, deciding that the comment could be perceived as too unintentionally suggestive. While Aidan certainly teased Aeorex and added humor to their interactions, there always seemed to be a line that she would not cross; a line that led into suggestive themes or innuendo. The reason for that line could be solely attributed to her level of professionalism, but in truth there was another reason for her restraint that had nothing to do with job pride.
Aidan narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips pointedly, creating the illusion of headmistress-like scrutiny as she continued to taunt Aeorex. “Perhaps, with your newfound interest in medical pursuance, I should initiate an R&D program to study a safer alternative to your awful habit. I hear near 30% of the Vascxious Sigma population shares that particular vice, and a healthy alternative could both improve public health and be a large revenue stream. Unless the slow death quality is the whole point, despite explanations to the contrary.”
Aidan squared her shoulders and stepped forward again, looking down at the seated CEO as she nudged them lightly back to business. “I will look into the paper immediately. And I won’t take the cost rise out of your pay. I have a feeling that would only assist you in justifying your further reliance on the habit.”
As for the Times, a majority of the research had already been done into the paper for a previous elated matter: as Aeorex had spoke about investigating the paper’s finances, the COO glanced down to her tab and tapped along to bring up the information she already had available, scanning over it quickly as the CEO finished speaking. Aidan briefly glanced back to that information again, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she glanced up at Aeorex through the veil of her lashes. “As it so happens, the paper was nearly underwater a year and a half ago; falling ad revenue, as could be expected from an archaic business model like the Times. However, they had a sudden influx of ad-buys within the past twelve months that not only reversed the drop off trend, but increased their base revenue stream by 122% over the last time they could be considered profitable: not a large jump in the scheme of things, but quite a turnaround. It does not look as though revenue was placed directly into the paper itself through donation or buyout: however, there might be a back-channel force that ‘persuaded’ the sudden influx of ad revenue. I’ll investigate accordingly. Should I put a man on the writer as well, see if we can obtain any potentially embarrassing information about him?” While following the money was a helpful long-term strategy, a quick solution to the story itself could be assisted by a small leak of incrimination regarding the reporter.
Aidan blanked her tablet again, taking a deep breath as she decided it was time to lay out her other news. “There is one more thing to bring to your attention: Magistrate Virianus has . . . requested your presence in the Tower. I was led to believe by his . . . emissary that the reason involved coordination on public events given the upcoming election, but my sources indicate that the entirety of the Council is being called back to the city over the next few days. There might be something larger at work than business as usual.”
The fact that Alpha’s Watchdog had come personally to deliver the message to Aidan stressed its importance, and the woman shivered in spite of herself as she thought about the encounter. If she could have managed it, she never would have been within ten miles of Zenethrakarna, but the woman was more ghost than anything, and was seemingly impossible to avoid. It was an odd move for back-channel communication to come from the Tower in that manner, and Aidan was aware it would not sit well with Aeorex either.
“Shall I coordinate a visit to the Tower?”
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Aeorex Khestralicht
Initiated
Posts: 19
Title: Council-Elect for Third District, CEO of Ouroboros
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Post by Aeorex Khestralicht on Mar 14, 2014 14:26:57 GMT -5
Ultimately, the COO may have no immediate indication at the man's reason behind the very personal response to the otherwise minor problem, but he himself chalked it up to a mixture of bad dreams and the entailing mood they had seemed to put him in for the duration of the day. Memories of a time so very different were at extreme odds with the circumstances of today, and he couldn't help but to struggle in brushing off the thought he'd made only moments earlier. While his--or Ouroboros's--monopolization of the medical field and others served to facilitate a controlled growth process with an atypical amount of resources, that it also held the potential for the claimed negative connotation did not escape him. Were the Trade City different--were he different--the apparently sole grasp of this power and resource could lead to a major change in the societal order, quickly turning what was by all accounts a utopia into a dystopian nightmare.
Sitting in his chair as he was, he brought his fingertips together in a tent only barely suggesting his reflective mood as his more immediate concerns shifted back to the banter between himself and Aidan, and he let a small smile play itself out freely on his lips. Of all people to observe, her grace could not escape him. Moreover, with the amount of effort he'd spent in detailing her files time and time again, he knew that this grace was suggestive of an unknown element in her history, standardized in its abnormality only by the fact that it was typical of priority personnel in the city to be atypical. Still, a personal curiosity roused within him. Letting a quiet, warm smile grow into an openly humored one, his shoulders shrugged and his head canted to the side. "Perhaps. Then again, it's possible the public might enjoy the show." He grinned, Aidan's choice of words playing directly upon her knowedge of Aeorex's somewhat open disdain for the press. After all, beyond what was expected of a CEO in such standing as his, he was something of a recluse for a politician. What occupied his mind, however, was the hypothetical follow-through of the suggestion, and the resulting frenzied state of his COO as she tried to clean up the mess. He continued to look upon her as his grin grew a bit at the thought, either suggestive of it, or of thoughts less related to business.
Either way, as she proposed a safer alternative to his habit in question, he turned slightly toward his desk and leaned forward, fingers playing out over the smooth surface to stow away the files he’d been mulling over before her arrival. “In a way, I suppose that it is the point.” He let the words linger in the air for only a second longer before continuing, his attention shifting back to her now that his desk’s surface had become that of blank, reflective marble, the various displays along either wall dimming out of view along with the slowly dying music. “Research the consequences and alternatives a bit more, and in a short time we can launch a campaign against it for the sake of public health based on ‘recent breakthroughs.’” Manipulation of the market allowed by its monopolization, yes, but it was also a direct exploitation of the health of his consumers for monetary gain. To top it off, here he was off-handedly suggesting it amid his day’s banter and playfulness with his closest colleague.
Seeming to have settled back into the business mindset primarily for now, he listened intently as she conveyed the information from her tablet of research already conducted, of no great surprise given previous incidents of outcries by various media organizations. His gaze dropping from her, he wondered at the force behind the Times’s revival from his list of known competitors, rivals, and other resentful dealings. He nodded, if only to himself, at her solution to the problem. “Though I know I needn’t remind you, use discretion in your investigations regarding whatever benefactor may be encouraging the Times and its writers. That they have their own inside men is a given, but I would prefer to maintain the advantage of secrecy when we discover their identity to better maintain the options of how we can act on that knowledge.” The thoughts that came to mind were not largely related to lawsuits of economic action, suggested by something grim in his tone, and further indicative of a very real fury against being slandered. “Look into the writer, but don’t act without informing me of the circumstances first. While they are of lesser concern on the larger scale, any attack too direct can appear too strong a protest on our part. Any evidence too incriminating can also appear planted.” He shrugged; Aidan knew how to handle these situations, and at times his responses almost felt necessary only for the fact that per her position, she needed his approval for action. She was such a terribly efficient colleague; he often shuddered at what it would be like to be opposite her in these games.
Relaxed as he was, his highly attuned senses were still keenly intent on the woman. Tension of muscles, pauses of breath; these were all suggestive to further news potentially foreboding. As the matter finally came to light, his eyes were already on hers, serious despite his charming air and narrowed slightly in curiosity. It was a level of intent not unfitting to the matter at hand, it seemed, and he watched as the woman spoke on it. Despite her great lengths to conceal her personal identity within that of their business interaction, the shiver she allowed spoke as loud as words to him, but he didn’t find it undeserved. Why Virianus had felt the need to send out that...thing as his means of backchannel communication was beyond him, lest the Magistrate was simply as much a sadist as the CEO sometimes suspected. Nodding silently, the man moved to stand, his physical attentions turning toward the tie draped over the back of his chair. Stepping toward the window, he moved to the woman’s side and, while not facing her, lifted his free hand to the shoulder of her jacket to rest there for a moment, the lightest of grips expressing his sympathy for having to deal with the Nightmare. “That would probably be best.” His mind sank a bit into theorizing the true reason for the meeting, but a light sigh escaped him as fingers lifted to the buttons and collar of his shirt as he began to replace his tie around his neck. “One would think a call would have sufficed.”
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Post by Aidan Dirieté on Mar 21, 2014 17:13:20 GMT -5
Aidan Dirieté kept her expression neutral as she replayed her ‘visit’ from Zenethrakarna in her mind. The COO was, by nature, nearly unshakable in almost every situation: her childhood had made certain of that, though that particular line of thought that was forcibly removed from Aidan’s mind before it could be expanded upon. Yet, the Nightmare was, also by nature, an object that conjured up unexplainable terror in seemingly everyone she encountered, save Virianus himself. Aidan had always suspected that the terror elicited by Zenethrakarna was the whole point of her existence at Alpha’s side, and was therefore the reason the ‘woman’ made an excellent bodyguard for the Magistrate. Alpha had a way of surrounding himself with beings that were more appropriately described by the word ‘creature,’ rather than ‘person,’ and if Alpha was the king of Hell’s Mountain, then Zenethrakarna certainly considered herself the demon queen.
The feeling of Aeorex’s hand on her shoulder suppressed the shiver that was coming from Aidan’s line of thinking, and the woman staunchly resisted the urge to incline her neck towards it and nuzzle – an act that, by her estimation, would have been the least professional thing she could do at that particular moment, save for removing her clothing and dancing the upside-down cha-cha on Aeorex’s desk. Instead, Aidan used his presence to steel her nerves so that she could pour over every detail of the interaction, narrowing her eyes as she did so. “It’s uncharacteristic for Virianus to send Zenethrakarna only to request a meeting.” The use of the creature’s name made Aidan feel more powerful – fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself, and the woman resolved herself to find some way to conquer the tense feeling that the creature evoked internally.
The COO cocked her head to the side in order to try and catch the CEO’s eye. “It is my belief that her visit has to do with the next election: with Esarhaddon removed from her post, that leaves the seat for Fourth District open. Considering the company’s stake in that district, Alpha could be trying to dissuade you from putting forth a candidate?” The Fourth District, once headed by the King Esarhaddon, was the city’s technology and medical center, and Aeorex had Ouroborous buying up numerous companies that lie physically within the district’s boundaries during the last expansion. If O. Holdings had someone loyal in that seat, Aeorex would have a much easier time advancing his goals . . . a fact Alpha was undoubtedly aware of.
Aidan thought carefully over current events. With the vacancies in both Seventh and Eight districts, the addition of the Technology District meant that there were three open seats on the Council, and there were no notable contenders for those seats. Each Council member’s nominating votes were worth more until those seats were filled, meaning that there would be opportunity for each member to try and fill one or more of the vacant seats with allies. Virianus, in his wisdom, might be letting his hound off her leash just enough to create a feeling of threat, keeping the Council from overreaching. Aidan shook her head: this was not the time to speculate: Aeorex liked facts.
The COO looked to her pad and pulled up her notes, the fingers of her right hand flying over the screen in order to add the formation of a smoking alternative project to her itinerary, along with her continued investigation of the Times. With a few more strokes, she re-encrypted the file and blanked her screen, taking note of her other appointment that day before doing so. Looking to Aeorex, Aidan smiled wryly. “Shall I have Bear and Sparrow meet you at the Airpad once I schedule your transport to the Tower?”
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Aeorex Khestralicht
Initiated
Posts: 19
Title: Council-Elect for Third District, CEO of Ouroboros
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Post by Aeorex Khestralicht on Mar 26, 2014 3:09:26 GMT -5
She didn't have to put it into words; he knew. One tended to think of direct encounters with the Nightmare as they did a heart attack. Virianus, for all his calm collection and long-reaching machinations, hardly needed any added weight to his words and deeds, but that he had Zenethrakarna by his side--even if only in thought--gave the man all the power and authority that he would ever need without ever having to lift a single finger to dominate almost all that they would ever cross. It was under the weight of this gravity, a veritable black ocean lingering just beyond the sky, that they inflicted their will. It was awe-inspiring to behold, really, and terrifying to feel; if there ever were a God and his domain, it was Virianus and this--his--city. It was in this line of thought that the weight of his hand rested on the COO's shoulder, digits gripping the material of her finely tailored jacket faintly, and lingering an instant longer than typical of the customary encouragement. In the brief contact, if she had done anything even slightly short of fully restrain such an urge to physically respond to his touch, he would know. Even if he was unaware of the choice, that she had decided to restrain herself was unfortunate; the following moments would see the mood was kept much lighter if not certainly more heated had she chosen to reveal even an inch of what he wasn't above admitting to himself to be what appeared a most deliciously exquisite flesh.
Instead, contact was broken and his physical attention favored the window before him and the tie he currently worked at reapplying with a reflexive and thoughtless pace speaking less of muscle memory than it did of his attentions departing from the immediate moment. The gravity of how uncharacteristic the Magistrate's manner of reaching out was not beyond him and, for once, it was a detail that she observed redundantly. Whereas before the focus of his gaze out the window had been generally indistinct, when his features now began to shift away from the expressive curve of both pleasantry and even exasperation, the hardening that slowly overtook them spoke wordless volumes as--if she even needed to follow them--they looked upon the Tower as it stretched above all others within the Trade City. His fingers had slowed just a fraction in their pace as they rolled down the miraculously unwrinkled and subtly shimmering fabric of his sleeves, and that he'd allowed the faintest furrowing of his brow escaped him when the woman at his side sought to physically enter the corner of his sight, prompting a sidelong glance of features that, when paired with the resulting shadowing of his gaze from the dipping of his chin, made the glowing ring of light within his eyes all the more striking in contrast, piercing through the playful banter of only a few moments prior to strike directly at Aidan's core, behind the walls of her practiced and otherwise unshakeable defenses. By now, if it even crossed his mind, the woman before him had likely become accustomed to the sudden clarity of seriousness as it tended to visually overtake him, and didn't typically respond with a shortened breath or reflexive tensing of the muscles as particular individuals did. She understood, didn't she, that while it was a shift that he did intentionally use for effect from time to time, the reflexive instances bespoke even more need for alarm amid their duality?
Had he realized it before she'd brought the matter to its fullest explanation, or was he so put off balance by the peculiar sternness with which Virianus broadcast his message that whatever theorized speculations he'd determined thus far had pulled him into some sort of bestial response? That Aidan had phrased the suggestion so precisely was the catalyst that he'd come to consider moments before. For once--though she proved herself invaluable for the contrary time and time again--she had been slow in at least voicing the speculation. Finally, after moments of directly linked gazes, his own fell to the buttons of his cuffs as his fingers worked over them with definite grace, despite the only somewhat lessened severity of his expression. "It's certainly possible, though I doubt it's so personal as that." No, he was fairly confident that each of the other Council members had received similar notifications, and in similar fashion. Why so serious, then? Turning toward her directly now so that he might reach to fetch his jacket of such a dark black that it seemed to mimic the marble that made up the near entirety of the office around them, it was the manner in which he so fluidly and crisply slipped his arms into the sleeves for the article of clothing to rest fully upon his shoulders that was telling of his maintained solemnity. She, including the pair of which she now regarded in what could have been a prodding jest, was one of a very small handful of individuals that might be able to discern the exerted control he practiced in these mundane actions during periods of such humorless demeanor, no matter how briefly and subtly they deviated from the norm.
It was with a mixed air that he spoke again, the smooth accentuation of his tones as they passed over pierced lips unrivaled in their likeness to a quietly charismatic political speaker, betrayed by the underlying flatness of authority best seen a military leader only to her by her prolonged interaction with him and, perhaps, the largely unvoiced and restrained intimacy between, at the very least, comrades. "Yes." If she hadn't expected the answer, she'd have little time to delay over it before he continued, meanwhile working over the buttons of his jacket. "Personal or not, whom I choose to nominate for the position is a choice I am fully empowered to make of my own accord, and one I'll not be dissuaded out of." That it was not making the choice, but approaching it with neutrality in regards to politics was a question not left to silence to answer. "If he's seeking to bully us out of making a choice that might further our political influence with serious expectations of such a result, he's doing himself a disservice. While I'm not one for the constant bickering and underhanded maneuvering that this game tends to force each of us into, I'm not beyond realizing that the competitive process demands nothing short of each Council member's best efforts." Despite his even, calm tone, a hint of defiance entered him in a display none too dissimilar to the challenge against him with the situation with the Times writer.
Again he reached toward his desk, now favoring the visor he was never seen without which in public affairs, its silver consistency mysteriously resembling both metalwork and plastic molding. With it holding fast to his features without any visible fastening, he continued with piercing gaze safely tucked away behind the featureless surface of white over each eye that served as its only inconsistency in color. When his lips curved into a reserved smile now, certainly even she was unbalanced by the efficiency with which such a small feature masked the razor-like focus he held upon her. He shook his head, turning now toward the door. "I hope you'll forgive my fervor, but I'm adamant in that none of the others will be bullied out of their machinations to solidify access to even more resources. It is by the nature of our empowerment that we believe our actions to be right in facing the others' wrong, and I won't sit idly by and allow one of them take the opportunity that, by right, is very much mine." She could think that it was simply greed that drove him if she so chose and perhaps she wouldn't be entirely incorrect, but how informed she was about the inner workings of the council and how closely she listened to his ranting outbursts like only seconds prior would determine the nature of such an observation. In truth, Aeorex had always acted fully and with conviction in seeing that all things within his domain, control, and influence were honed to not only maintain their utmost efficiency, but expanded upon this and progressed further in bettering the Trade City as a whole. In this was she the sole witness by experience above all others that knew it was nothing short of a demand from him, no matter how genuinely he requested second opinions and how prone he seemed to be in losing track of the millions of finer details under his sway.
That his movements, though all too natural and casual in appearance, still held the crisp, decisive control of restraint as he ran a finger over his desk to encrypt and extinguish all the files and scrolling data that previously filled the room alongside shifting art as he made for the door was again telling to her and her alone at the moment of the fortitude with which he had been overcome. He, for all his dedication and effort to try to both adhere and appeal to their Magistrate's wishes, would not answer to such a calling without an comparatively equal show of force. If the confidence and assertiveness that nearly rolled off of him in waves to fill the room to the brim were not enough, being accompanied to the Tower by the closest--and most precious--of his comrades would. Fully expecting that Ms. Diriete was already accompanying him out of the office, he did not linger nor look her way when he spoke again. "Was there anything else that needed to be addressed before my departure?" Allowing her some time to answer, he continued, if her response did not necessitate he address it, "I'll need you to be available afterward; I have a feeling that there will be little time for delay after this meeting." Finally, at least, the ball of the city's momentum seemed to be rolling again.
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Post by Aidan Dirieté on Mar 28, 2014 12:04:41 GMT -5
If the sudden shift from lighthearted to bestial intensity in the CEO’s features startled Aidan, she made absolutely no outward show of recognition as to her internal reaction. Aeorex was right to assume that his right-hand woman was more than accustomed to his changes in mood and intensity, and though she may have done some internal recalibrations in order to suit the newly-altered mood, the only external change that took place was for the woman to press her lips into a tight, thin line as she met his intense gaze.
Her previous statements had been redundant: Aidan was aware that her employer was more than aware of the situation, and her choice to voice those considerations had been a calculated one. She knew the dynamics better than Aeorex perhaps imagined, considering that his perspective was not the only council member’s view Ms. Dirieté had regular access to. In truth, the woman was judging his reaction, and Aeorex had not disappointed in aligning with her estimations, though the CEO was more calculatedly fervent about the point than the woman had perhaps anticipated. He was intent on pushing back against Alpha, and therefore would be more likely to follow the logical path through to its conclusion and fight for the company’s interest, and by proxy, Aidan’s own. Was the woman priming Aeorex for a fight? In a way. Aidan wore many different hats in her daily tasks within Ouroboros: motivator was not far enough outside the normal range of her duties to be thought of as strange.
Aidan nodded and let her fingers dance a few quick taps along her pad as Aeorex carefully swept his coat on to his shoulders. Like with the COO herself, her employer had a penchant for abnormally-controlled motion that could lead one to believe that he possessed a reservoir of physical ability above the human norm, though Aeorex had been careful not to reveal anything definitive to his greatest assistant. Through her other connections, she knew there was something abnormal about Aeorex’s physiology, but she forced herself not to wonder past the cursory notations she often made of his actions: behind her efficient business acumen, Aidan was a scientist at heart, and the urge to dissect her boss was not something she would allow to develop.
As the man began to move toward the exit, Aidan characteristically fell in step beside him, the click! of her heels creating a rhythmic cadence that would accompany them across the marble floor to the elevator, which she would ride with him to the Airpad, before taking the elevator back down to continue with her duties in the building once he departed. The strokes of her fingers on her pad had already sent the message that would send Bear and Sparrow to the pad, and knowing the operatives tendency toward punctuality, she had little doubt that they would be ready and waiting by the time the elevator reached the top floor and Aeorex had traveled down the exterior corridor and up the scaffolding stairs to the Airpad. Aidan would carefully pause at the elevator’s door to allow Aeorex to enter first, filing in to his side next to the lift controls so she could carefully press the part of the wall screen that corresponded to their destination, her finger lingering on its surface just long enough for the lift to grant her access based on biometric authentication.
Once the door had closed, she would glance sidelong to her employer, her arms carefully folded around her tab near her waist. “No pressing matters. We will need to finalize some election matters, including your event schedule, but that can wait for you to return. I will get to work on the Times investigations, and I must run an off-site inspection of the research wing of the Biomed building. I will ensure than I am back here by the time you return.” Aeorex would be more than aware that his right-hand woman had a predisposition to being exactly where he needed her to be when she was needed, and therefore would be confident that the COO would be there to greet him when he returned.
The lift rose swiftly, and once it slowed, stopped, and opened its doors, Aidan would carefully rest her finger on the pad to keep the door open for Aeorex so that he could depart the lift and take the short walk to the Airpad unaccompanied. “Anything else, sir?”
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Aeorex Khestralicht
Initiated
Posts: 19
Title: Council-Elect for Third District, CEO of Ouroboros
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Post by Aeorex Khestralicht on Mar 30, 2014 22:54:44 GMT -5
Aidan's lack of open response to the shift in his mood was expected; she was exposed to more of these than anyone else, and had a knack for being able to inspire several of them. In truth, any expectations regarding her reaction barely registered these days, and especially when there were more primary concerns than prodding his closest assistant for results that might compromise that impenetrable shell of efficiency. More than once it had crossed his mind that, with the standard of her actions being nothing short of stellar, she was everything that he doubted in his own ability to properly fill the role he'd acquired. Perhaps to his detriment, he put the thought as swiftly out of mind as he did on other such occasions; for now, at least, she worked for him, and rather than undercut her level of performance due to his own insecurity, he would encourage her to excel. Her accomplishments with regards to her duties as COO did nothing but help the company currently in his name, and though he couldn't always see the threats that loomed on the horizon, he wouldn't allow their possibility to doom the present before they'd even arrived.
With such thoughts only momentarily filling the background of his mind, while the foremost of his attention remained on the matter at hand, one could wonder if he was even partially aware that the reverse of his actions as it related to her observations was so opposite the standard he had adopted for her. Furthermore, it was troubling to consider that he seemed so easily handled. Though whether or not he accepted what answers she'd given in response to his inquiries of her life beyond what existed in records, he felt fairly confident that she was like him in that, at least, she wasn't five times the age that she appeared. Why was it relevant? She may have seemed to handle the man to an almost laughable efficiency, but was he expected, as perhaps the closest thing to being a normal man sitting on the council, to maneuver without fault or flaw? Belittle this defense with the fact that she was little different in age, then. Either the man was foolish enough to be unaware of such instances entirely, or, he chose to let them take effect. Just as how he would not let his own insecurities blind him to successes the woman made in relation to his company, he wouldn't let the single most problematic issue he had with the City's members of governance and their working relationships take hold in the most crucial of his own. Though it was more difficult at times than others, he made the active choice to trust that the woman had the corporation's well being at heart, and possibly, his own.
Yet, as stated, none of these thoughts took primary hold of his mind as they progressed toward the elevator in tandem, barely giving so much as a pause as the woman stepped to the side to allow him first entry. They'd had the conversation before, and such things that she had argued as a sign of respect wouldn't change, no matter how much he protested in playful banter. Turning to face the elevator's door, the man waited with hands clasping each other lightly behind his back as they made to ascend, only now letting his attention rest on her, but only for a moment. He nodded. "Unless you have other things to attend to..." While he didn't logically rule such a possibility out, he was inclined to believe she'd adjust her schedule just for the asking, "...we'll probably be busy for the better portion of the night." He resumed his forward gaze to the elevator's door as the continued to rise. "After you've finished with your inspection, take some personal time before returning to the office." He doubted that she would actually do so, but she was keen enough to note that it hadn't been a suggestion. It had come to realization that he had another appointment to make that might be beneficial at this time, and while it probably wouldn't take long, it could effectively change the tone of the rest of the night's efforts. That, and he hoped the woman wasn't trying the keep the hours that he did. He didn't recommend them for someone without both the resources and allowances that his special blend of individual uniqueness allowed him.
His relative silence and otherwise reserved tone contrasted by the defiant conviction he'd displayed only moments prior did not signal a change in his intentions, but instead that he was prioritizing his thoughts; collecting himself before the big game. After all, he'd already had his pep rally, no? As the doors parted he stepped forward into the cold air that, despite the environmental controls put in place, was still biting. He stopped mid-step as the COO allowed one final chance to allow any other matters to be settled or put into action. Turning only half way, he finally allowed a reserved grin to play out on pierce lips, warm despite the cold around him, mirroring his expression despite the visor that otherwise toned down his intensity to downright charming to those who weren't more familiar with his sudden mood changes and near complete lack of ability in the technicalities of his work. "No. And thank you, Aidan. I'll see you soon." He chose not to stress that she was completely invaluable to him; she knew it as well as he, and there was the off chance that if he reminded her too much she just might pull a coup to sit in his throne, his head on a platter before her. With that, he turned away and continued toward the Airpad, where the silhouettes of his means of travel, and his two highest ranking members of in-house security were waiting on him, the air further kicked up at the high altitude by prepped engines. As the three men boarded and the ship lifted off, it was time for yet another appointment concerning matters both day-to-day and not, this time in a field less related to Aidan's realm of superiority. Business as usual.
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Post by Aidan Dirieté on Apr 1, 2014 17:20:47 GMT -5
“Yes sir. Safe travels, as always.”
Aidan let out a slow, painful breath as the lift pulled her body downward, racing through the building’s core toward its base, speeding by floor after floor with the efficiency of a falcon diving to catch its prey. In that jarring moment of weightlessness, her body falling and helpless, dependent on the mechanical contraption around it for safety, Aidan herself felt like that prey. She had kept her telling of the encounter with the Nightmare bereft of details when she had relayed it to Aeorex, and had therefore left out the other ultimatum she had been given by the creature, this one personal. It seemed that Alpha was displeased with her lack of progress with regards to her outside project, and Zenethrakarna had induced some sort of magical hallucination in order to vividly demonstrate just what was going to happen to the COO were she not to begin producing results quickly.
Ms. Dirieté chewed on her bottom lip as she watched the numbers tick by with blurred vision, her thoughts racing much faster than the lift could hope to fall. It was true that the join project with Drænnik had stalled: Aidan worked on the equations day in and day out, between her regular work with Ouroboros and her various other duties and personal needs, but she could not seem to get the stabilization field to resonate at the correct frequency for it to solidly interact with subtle body material. She knew she was close, but the answer still eluded her understanding, a fact that had kept the other members of their joint venture on standby. Drænnick had the vessel ready, and Odette had indicated that she was prepared to Call at any time. That meant that everything rested on Aidan’s shoulders, and it had been nearly a month since any real progress had been made.
The woman was afraid.
Clenching her teeth, Aidan slammed her fist against the side of the lift, causing a slight depression to appear in the metal. What am I supposed to do!? She noticed how ragged her breathing had become and reflexively hit the stop bottom on the lift control panel, halting the descending box sharply when it was suspended only a few floors above ground level.
If she could devote more time to the project, perhaps she would be able to have a breakthrough, but as it was, her duties with Ouroboros had continued to escalate in importance and time-demand: she needed a miracle.
Aidan pressed her back against the lift wall while she brought her breathing back under control, chasing the images Zenethrakarna had forced into her mind away from conscious thought so she could clear her head. She struggled to no longer see flashes of what sort of vile maiming would be inflicted on her body should she fail. There were some psychological threats too, but the images that had stuck with Aidan were the images and feelings of looking down at where her limbs should have been, only to see them missing, the extricated biological structures lying in separate pools of her own blood feet away from where she was, suspended from the ceiling in some grotesque manner she somehow managed not to remember. The Nightmare always lived up to her name, though Aidan briefly wondered how Alpha expected her to be able to work more efficiently with Zenethrakarna’s sick fantasies burned into her brain.
Aidan suppressed a shiver, but composed herself enough to stand again, slowly raising her arm to press one finger against the button that would make the elevator move again. It picked up speed rapidly, descending down to and then below the main floor of Ouroboros, taking her deep into the sub-levels of O. Holdings, with the eventual destination being the deepest point of the building which housed Aidan's lab.
Aeorex had told her take some ‘personal time’ until he was ready for her, and the COO intended to do just that. She felt her little breakdown had let off enough pressure that she could focus again, and therefore as the doors opened at the Prime Access floor she was able to click! her heels out of the lift and to the security door calmly, pressing her hand against the control edifice with her customary level of practiced precision. The dim hallway and its single metal structural door opened slowly, and the woman waited patiently before striding past the barrier and down the access hall, making the requisite number of criss-crossing turns to reach the small room that was her personal lab. Another control panel, another handprint scan, and the woman would finally feel safe. Once inside, Aidan would immediately begin work on her project, examining the wavelength output of her Barrier emitter and continue tuning it so that it would fulfill its express purpose.
With any luck, she would have the device working correctly by the time Aeoex summoned her again, but Aidan couldn’t help but feel fear flutter in her chest. Sleep, it seems, would not be a thing she was allowed for some time.
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Post by Aidan Dirieté on Nov 16, 2014 21:20:14 GMT -5
Aidan Dirieté leaned slowly back in her chair, resting her arms on the armrests carefully as she peered forward at the screen in front of her. She had been working for more than an hour on the Barrier emitter, tuning the spectrographical wavelengths in such a way that they had become more and more narrowly focused, creating a dense energetic barrier that operated on multiple energetic wavelengths, as well as physically.
The COO’s test emitter, which was comprised of two cylindrical devices, each made of steel and approximately the size of a small loaf of bread, were functioning to create a spherical energy field between their two emitter ends that was currently being used to hold a small steel cube Aidan kept on her desk for testing suspended in a blue-white, oscillating orb of light. By all accounts, the emitter worked with the current calibrations: it could be used to hold a Called entity in place physically while creating a wedge between the physical existence of the subject and any metaphysical connection it happened to possess. The problem was that Aidan had no way to predict if the Barrier would actually hold the metaphysical partition correctly, or if it would collapse in on itself and release the held energy to dissipate harmlessly. In many ways, the emitter’s success was a toss up – dependent on the metaphysical signature of the entity that was Called, it might function exactly as intended or not function at all. With no way to test, all the COO could do was rely on her own software simulations, which resulted in a 50% projected success rate when all variables were considered. In her line of work, a 1 in 2 chance of success was just too risky, but without some kind of other control added to the mix, Aidan felt that she was at a loss as to what to do next.
The pink-haired professional let out a long, slow, sighing breath as she lazily reached to her interface in order to tap a specific key to shut off the screen. The terminal would automatically back up her work to a small drive plugged into the side of her desk, and as Aidan slipped her feet back into her heels and stood up, the red light on the drive stopped blinking and shut off, indicating the backup was complete. The woman unseated the drive from the terminal and tucked it away in her jacket pocket – she would download the new calibrations into the main terminal in the Obscurity later, and hopefully have a conversation with Odette about getting a bit more certainty as to just what entity would be their experiment subject. The self-styled ‘Chainer’ was notoriously vague, but with their whole project on the line Aidan was no longer willing to take ‘I don’t know’ for an answer.
The COO’s lips pressed themselves into a thin line as she smoothed her jacket and walked out the door of her tiny private lab, making sure to secure the door and initiate the security on its outer mechanism before quickly walking through the jagged hallways and stepping on the lift. Her ‘personal time’ for the moment was over, and as the lift picked up speed, skyrocketing her towards the apex of Tower Two, Aidan sighed deeply and adjusted her glasses, rubbing her eyes and smoothing her hair before the lift doors opened to the floor containing the former-secretary’s real office.
Ms. Dirieté smiled warly as she stepped off the lift at Candice, the floor secretary who greeted her cordially from her desk in front of the lift. Aidan had very few dealings with Candice on a day to day basis – she mostly screened visitors to the administrative floors and passed on important comuniques to the correct manager’s terminal, but the woman always seemed both pleasant and competent, and therefore Aidan always made sure to be pleasant in return when interacting with her. After stepping through the print-coded floor screen, the COO strode down the line to her corner office, closed the door, and took a quick seat at her terminal, setting her tab down beside it, an act that automatically served to synch the two devices. Pressing on the screen, Aidan pulled up the information she had her sources gathering on the Times – enough new information had come in during the just over an hour since Aeorex’s departure that the COO had something to work with, and her deprivation-reddened eyes briefly scanned over the new reports before she dug in more completely.
The Times’ recent influx of ad-buys had been done on behalf of a single donor, but apparently that information is where the trail stopped. There was no way to further track the donor – the payment itself had no electronic record, and no publicly-held accounts had amount that could be matching withdrawals, which meant whoever was bankrolling the paper had accounts outside of the normal Vascxious Sigma financial system, which made them incredibly hard to track down. Likely, the buy was a cash payment in the form of various ads for various companies so as not to arouse suspicion, but the companies under whose names the buy had been done under hadn’t seen any more placement in the paper than they had prior to the buy, meaning that it had been off the books. Aidan narrowed her eyes – generally, when secret money appeared in Vascxious Sigma, it came from somewhere in the Tower, which meant it was both malicious in nature and, inevitably, impossible to fully trace. Swiping from the left side of her screen, Aidan took several minutes to draft a coded message to one of her associates working in the secure sector of the Tower, asking her to check and see if anyone within her sector, including Alpha, had shuffled the amount of money in question around in the past year. Once that was done, Aidan clicked off her screen and sat back in her chair, setting her glasses on the desk, rubbing her eyes and resting them. Aidan knew Aorex would be back soon, and she still had that Biomed inspection to do, but the woman had reached close enough to her breaking point that she needed a short rest before continuing on. Forcing herself to get up from her chair, Ms. Dirieté lowered the shades on both of her windows, each taking up an entire wall of her corner office with floor-to-ceiling glass that overlooked the cityscape. Once the room had been plunged into darkness, with only the sight glow of her terminal hardware lighting the room, Aidan stepped carefully to the side of the room and pressed on a wooden panel near her desk, causing a small, one-person cot to slide out and extend upward, giving her a place to rest that the COO too often found herself using. Slipping off hr shoes and hanging her jacket on the back of her terminal seat, Aidan carefully laid down on her back and shut her eyes, clicking a timer on her watch to wake her in an hour. By then, Aeorex would be wrapping up his meeting, and Aidan would have to meet him at the landing pad. The Biomed inspection would just have to wait.
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Aeorex Khestralicht
Initiated
Posts: 19
Title: Council-Elect for Third District, CEO of Ouroboros
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Post by Aeorex Khestralicht on Aug 10, 2015 23:33:35 GMT -5
{New Scene}
The transit from the Tower back to O.Holdings was a quiet one without the company of his occasional companions, but he considered this fortunate. In the quiet, behind the sound of the vehicle's engines as it propelled he and the two man crew through the air, he contemplated the Council's meeting, and what it meant for both himself and the city. A much needed relief would certainly be provided to Ishmael soon, and beyond that, the city would start to function at optimum capacity once again. That is, at least, if processions went smoothly and, most importantly, the chosen candidates were more...agreeable than some others, both past and present. He shook off the irritation that last thought brought to mind.
Opening the side panel door on his own before the crew could move to do it for him, he stepped out into the flurry of steam from the rooftop's vents, and moved relaxedly down the walk and toward his building's rooftop entry, hands in his pants pockets as he thought. His expression neutral, he continued in relative silence until he had reached his office. Ascending the single step halfway across the span of the room, he placed himself behind the desk, but remained standing. He did just that for several long moments, in fact, as he considered potential candidates for the open seats of the Council and, much to his ire, realized that few of his prospects would either be fully prepared for the position, or entirely worthy of it. Stirring his desk's display into life with the touch of a finger, he debated getting a jump on the research while Aidan was taking what he had insisted she take as a rest period, but refrained. All things in their due time.
With a quick flurry of tapping fingers, he notified the attendant at the desk outside his office, and thereby the corresponding security team, that he was not to be disturbed. At all. This, of course, was followed by the silent click of his office's locked door, triggered by a command at his desk. Pausing then only when he thought of the security, he followed by sending notification to the Serpent Corps to lower the security level to normal, thereby leaving only one team on constant standby, given that he'd heard nothing further of the matter in transit back to O.Holdings. After all, he was going to be out of contact for a short time on any note. Bringing up the appropriately layered clearance level on the private level that only he could access, he sent a notification to his correspondant for the next matter at hand. Even so, he still liked to follow by saying her name.
“Asurnararri.”
Though he doubted he would have to wait, he fetched his communikay from his pocket at the silent notification of a message. Bringing it up, it appeared to be from Virianus, concerning his proposed candidate; interesting. He read through the text without discernible reaction, for whatever length of time that he awaited his associate's response.
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Asurnararri
Uninitiated
Posts: 5
Title: Dead Mexatron King
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Post by Asurnararri on Aug 23, 2015 15:07:24 GMT -5
The tickling and whizzing pings of data passing in and out of her cortex always caused Asurnararri to experience pleasing sensations. With her consciousness extended through the framework of Ouroboros’ snake-like network, which had been enhanced through her own ingenuity and experience, the King felt more like a hive queen, receiving sensory input from all her thousands of minion drones and then sending out commands, twisting each of them through her webs of command to do her bidding. They were unaware of the manipulation, of course: the SYSADMIN messages she sent to various employees, the meeting calendars she changed, the posted rules she conveniently modified, these things were never truly noticed, and if they were, those responding to them always assumed it was business as usual. None of them had any idea the overarching designs behind the tiny changes, and it would stay that way: drones weren’t supposed to see the battle plan any more than the infantry needed to know the general’s sexual preferences: they were only there to serve their specific purpose.
The King’s eyes flitted open, moving her direct sensory input from black into bright, brilliant white as she looked out over the endless expanse of Dirac’s ocean, a seamless landscape only marred in certain places by Asurna’s own constructions: her workbench, lab table, and the large, throne-like seat that she had constructed for herself to lounge in while she was consciously elsewhere, maintaining her duties as Ouroborous’ primary mainframe. Truthfully, she could run 98.752% of the processes required to keep the company’s systems operating as a back-of-mind process, but Asurnararri didn’t like to be so absent with her networking ministrations. Besides, there was something freeing to let her consciousness frolic through so many connected systems: each had been added, one by one, to her centralized core, allowing her to send and receive both information and power to, after several hours of work, every system within Ouroboros. It was unfortunate that Vascxious Sigma’s governmental systems were not as advanced as those in O. Holdings: the King was itching to draw new connections and extend her reach, but the sudden jump in system power that would come from her connecting herself to the networks of, say, the Tower might draw suspicion, and Asurnararri intended to keep her presence in the city hidden for as long as possible. Besides, there were other ways to spy on the Tower that were well within the King’s vast means: they just weren’t as fun.
Sliding out of her ‘throne’, a seat with a high back and large arms constructed entirely of fused atomic iron particles superheated and formed by an intense magnetic field, the diminutive King had barely set her bare feet onto the white ‘ground’ than she felt the ping of Aeorex’s incoming message. Diverting the information to her direct consciousness, Asurnararri snickered, and within the time it took the CEO to say the King’s full name, Aeorex would suddenly find himself standing not in his office, but in the endless white of the Ocean with the childlike King whose name he had invoked standing two feet to his front. One eye obscured by her long black hair, the pale-skinned, diminutive form of the creature stared up at Aeorex, waiting for his startled reaction to the sudden change in scenery – Asura had been intentionally varying her transmission speed in order to keep him guessing, and last time the CEO had been transitioned into the whitespace, it had taken a good two minutes of slow, chaotic, ethereal world-bending for him to get there, rather than the blink it took this time. The King giggled childishly, and spoke in a singsong voice as her one visible eye unblinkingly bored into Aeroex’s.
”Eight little chessmarks, circling like hawks – but do they see the secret queen that is hiding behind the blocks?”
The King ticked her head to the side slightly, her vision diverting itself from Aeorex as if she were listening to something he couldn’t hear. After a few beats, Asurnararri easily refocused and spoke again, this time in a deeper, deadpan tone, her voice low and mature.
“I intercepted the communication sent by the Magistrate containing details of his pick for the Seventh District Council Seat. I assume, then, that your meeting was rife with developments as to Council placement.”
Asurnararri had very little interest on what was going on politically in the city, but she understood the importance it held for Aeorex, and therefore the security of her position, so she kept herself appropriately abreast of what was going on. Her expression suddenly evening and decidedly lacking in mirth, the King raised both of her hands from her sides and held them out supine, and a she did, her feet would slowly drift off the floor, her body rising into the air, propelled by some invisible force, until Asurnararri was hovering at the CEO’s actual eye level.
“After we explore your biometric results, I have some ideas for tracking what is happening in the Council I’d like to share with you. Functionally, if you can keep adequate tabs on the Counselors, it would be easier to anticipate their movements and decisions.”
The King’s body leaned back as she continued to drift upward, her physical motions mimicking those of someone drifting lazily through the water. Asurnararri would circle up past Aeorex’s head and, with increasing speed, drift towards the vast white expanse at the CEO’s back, an open area she often used to create virtual ‘obstacle courses’ she could run Aeorex through and observe his vital biometric responses – clearly, Asurna was assuming that the man would be ready to get right down to business. Her singsong voice would drift through the open, white space like an ethereal spirit dirge.
”Oh, the shadow comes, it scoops you up, oh, oh the shadow runs, it eats you whole. Oh, oh, the shadow comes to scare you dead, but careful now, it runs from red . . .”
{Location Change: Dirac's Ocean}
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