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Post by Alanna Craft on Jun 5, 2009 22:14:08 GMT -6
It didn't rain very much anymore. Clouds were in the sky, but they were mostly smog and the stench of death. Still, for the sake of poetry, one could describe the weather as 'gloomy,' though 'bleak' was certainly the better term. Either way, it was much too dark for tinted windows, which was only one odd factor about the long red car. It was an elegant piece of machinery- not quite a limousine, but far too bulky to be a sports car and far too elegant to be a simple sedan. It was a shocking mix of red paint, silver trim, and black tinted windows.
Most shocking of all was where it stopped. It pulled into the circular drive at GeneCo's main entrance and parked there, it's engine rumbling to a halt. The drive was too narrow to park there, intended perhaps to ward off extended visits or perhaps really only there for show.
A woman sat in the back seat. She was fair skined and had elegant auburn curls covering her neck and the right side of her face. She was dressed in a pristine grey dress-suit with delicate red pinstripes and a decadent looking red satin blouse. The skirt crept up her thighs where she sat, exposing only a few inches above her knee, where long grey boots hid and yet accented her calves. She was touching up her makeup with a small hand-mirror.
"We've stopped. Can I assume that we've finally arrived, My Sweet?" She clapped her mirror closed and narrowed her visible blue eye. "If I am late for my appointment, I shall be most displeased."
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Post by GraveMakker on Jun 5, 2009 22:24:07 GMT -6
"Yes, ma'am," the driver said. He got out of the car. Stepping around it, he opened the door, waiting for her.
She was so beautiful in his eyes. He would do anything for her.
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Post by Alanna Craft on Jun 5, 2009 22:44:32 GMT -6
The woman stepped out of the car, nodding briefly at her escort. She offered her pale hand at him and looked up at the glowing neon sign bearing GeneCo's logo.
"I will say this for them, their graphic design is certainly memorable. Our logo, splendid as it is, just doesn't have the same... pizazz. Ah well. Come along. If I know receptionists, they will try and delay my meeting if we are not early."
The woman closed the door behind her, not bothering to lock it. She knew the car was in no danger of being stolen. One couldn't shoot up with a car. Now, if there were any glowing blue vials within, she might have been concerned. Might have been. If she ever cared to give it any thought.
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Post by GraveMakker on Jun 5, 2009 22:49:43 GMT -6
"Yes, ma'am," he said. He agreed that the sign was very...ostentatious. Still, he much preferred the sign at VisnInc. There was something...special about it. Like his mistress, it had its own charm. "We are early, ma'am," he said, opening the door for her.
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Post by Alanna Craft on Jun 5, 2009 23:01:06 GMT -6
She stepped confidently in, allowing her hand to peel away from her young escort's grasp as she approached the receptionist. The receptionisy appeared to be a Gentern, complete with the gauche red visor poking out of her head and the entirely too revealing white candy-striper get-up. The receptionist was busy filing her nails as she talked quietly on the phone.
The woman lifted her chin and peered down her nose at the receptionist. "I am Alanna Craft, owner of VisN Inc. I have an appointment with Ms. Largo."
The receptionist looked through her visor at Ms. Craft and then flicked her eyes down to a computer screen. "Lemme put you on hold, shug," she muttered into the phone. Using the file to push a button she smiled with gross charm at Ms. Craft. "I'll let Ms. Largo know you're on the way." The phone buzzed mutely through the ear piece. "If you'll just have a seat, ma'am, I'm sure she'll be happy to see you in a moment."
Ms. Craft highly doubted Eleonora would be 'happy' about it at all, if the rumors were true about her temper, but the owner of VisN Inc. was not one to worry about such things. "Thank you."
She turned and strode over to the stiff looking black leather sofas at the front of the lobby and sat perched just so with her legs crossed sharply, looking blandly at the receptionist with her cool blue eye.
"Don't block the door, My Sweet. Ms. Largo may have other guests who want to enter," she grinned coyly, "or leave. And you certainly wouldn't want to keep them from their goal, now would you?"
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Post by GraveMakker on Jun 5, 2009 23:07:06 GMT -6
He nodded and stepped forward, out of the way of the door. He stood by her side, his hands held behind his back. He checked his watch a few times. It was an odd habit, but one he couldn't break himself of.
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Post by Alanna Craft on Jun 5, 2009 23:15:14 GMT -6
"Ms. Largo?" The receptionist asked formally into the phone. "You're 4:30 is here to see you ma'am."
Ms. Craft nodded politely at the woman. "Don't be in a rush, My Sweet. When you enter the den of a lioness, it is best not to rush her when she plans to devour you." She arched her finely plucked eyebrow at him. "You have the file I requested saved in that contraption of yours, correct?"
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Post by GraveMakker on Jun 5, 2009 23:17:29 GMT -6
"Of course, ma'am," he replied, pulling it up on his watch. "It is right here. Do you wish to review it?"
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Post by Alanna Craft on Jun 5, 2009 23:28:59 GMT -6
Ms. Craft nodded. "Display file number 4V3-72," she commanded. A series of complicated legalisms shimmered before her from Her Sweet's wrist. From any angle but hers it would have been difficult to read much, but if one could read backwards, one might be able to make out: " Real Estate value $3,000,000 ," " Commercial Zone ," and " VisN Inc. and affiliates ."
"Truly this is a filthy town, but you know what they say about business," Ms. Craft waved her hand dismissively at her escort, "the more people there are, the more customers you have. I will miss our former location, but there is only so much demand for our services back home. Here... here we can make a fortune."
She looked up at her escort. "I am trusting you to ensure Ms. Largo's temper does not... affect my person in any negative fashion." She pressed her fingertips together in a steeple shape. "And if you would be so kind as to..." She shrugged, "divert any conversation away from my... affliction, should such conversation arise. I would hate for this..." she closed her eyes and shuddered, "inconvenience to ruin my discussion."
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Post by Eleonora Largo on Jun 22, 2009 15:27:47 GMT -6
((This got a little confusing for me, lol, so please forgive any mistakes I make time-wise. I suppose we'll place this a few days [or a day, whatever] before Julius, Gravemakker, and Alanna met in the Graveyard? I'll edit my posts accordingly if needed.))
Eleonora was not very busy in her office. She was surveying the city as usual, taking particular interest in a little street punk attempting to take down a gang of GeneCops. The cops were somehow losing, but when Eleonora focused the camera in closer, she could see the wild look in the young man's eyes. Only a few people had that kind of insanity, and it came from extreme Z withdrawal. At the moment, he was desperate, and his brain was pumping him full of adrenaline. She assumed that he was an escapee of the rehab facility, and sighed at the inadequacy of her GeneCops. "Damn men don't know what do with themselves most of the time. I'll need to retrain them. Fighting off Z addicts is like fighting off rabid dogs. Just look at him!" She threw her hand up in the general direction of the screen.
The young man raced straight ahead towards one of the cops, but was finally stopped by a baton to the back. One of the cops on the ground had gotten up miraculously, and had used the baton to stab him. The boy fell, writhing, and then lay still, his eyes going blank. Eleonora smiled in sick pleasure, but her watching was interrupted by the buzzing sound of the intercom.
"Your 4:30 appointment is here, Ms. Largo," a cutesy-sounding Gentern said. Eleonora scowled, remembering who she was seeing: Alanna Craft. For some reason the VisN Inc. CEO wanted to talk business. Eleonora preferred to permanently damage the woman's other eye, but kept that to herself. Instead, she pressed a small green button on her console to return the intercom message.
"Let her in, and tell her that I...apologize for making her wait," she said, through gritted teeth. This was going to be one hell of a meeting.
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Post by Alanna Craft on Jun 22, 2009 16:56:56 GMT -6
Alanna was just about to become bored when the Gentern waved her finely manicured hands at her. The business woman pressed her lips together in a tight smile and nodded at her escort. The thin young man had always been a help to her, and as one of... what was his name... Pavi? yes, Pavi's illegitimate brats, he gave her a unique veiw into the Largo family's politics.
Although, when you got right down to it, it was the same thing you could read in any of the tabloids: if you weren't Eleonora Largo, you really weren't a Largo at all. It was generally considered the same way for business. True, there were plenty of CEOs and corporate bigwigs who owned various companies in the computer, food, or clothing industries, none of them had any of the clout, prestige, and drama that Eleonora had- and most of them didn't even have a tenth of her wealth. Alanna, on the other hand, was the oft unsung second biggest business moguls out there.
As much as she tried to keep her name out of the tabloids, Alanna was quickly gaining a reputation. Her business deals were all made behind closed doors and only with a select group of very trusted souls. What few secrets about VisN Inc. and Alanna herself had either been dismissed as rumor (despite their validity) or were released too late to be off any use to her enemies. And while the tabloids liked to highlight the differences between Ms. Craft's business practices and policies and Ms. Largo's, the simple fact was that Alanna had been doing business with GeneCo for years, supplying them with simple necessities: medical equipment, sterilizing compounds, and antibiotics.
The tabloids didn't care about the facts. Copies didn't sell when cold, hard fact entered the equation. No. Instead, they flourished on rumor. Rumors that Alanna was trying to take GeneCo down as some sort of perverse revenge for her botched surgery attempt (interestingly, only a very small number of powerful people had ever seen what had become of Alanna's eye- and Eleonora was one of them, thanks to her connections to the doctors Alanna had to visit to keep from acquiring an infection), were on the front page every six months. They didn't last long. Alanna had a wonderful PR branch.
Alanna delicately pushed herself up from the sofa and strode over to the Gentern at the desk.
"Ms. Largo sends her apologies for having you wait. If you take that elevator and use this key," the Gentern handed Alanna a clear plastic card bespotted with metal wiring, "it will take you straight to her office."
"How very... secure."
"Ms. Largo doesn't like unwelcome guests," the Gentern replied effortlessly.
"Then why is she permitting me in?" Alanna joked. The Gentern bit her lip just so. "That was an attempt at humor, miss. No need to try and explain the enigma that is Eleonora Largo. Come along, My Sweet." She waved at her escort and walked toward the elevator.
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Emilio Largo-Orinth
VisN, Inc Employee
I will follow you anywhere...Even into the depths of hell...
Posts: 4
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Post by Emilio Largo-Orinth on Jun 22, 2009 18:56:07 GMT -6
Emilio nodded and followed Alanna like a puppy. He kept his distance, glaring at the GenTern. He resisted the urge to tell her to keep her distance from Alanna.
He was not looking forward to seeing Eleonora, but he was there for a purpose. He was there to serve his Alanna, to make sure the deal went through. And, eventually, to gain a foothold in the world by destroying GeneCo.
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Post by Alanna Craft on Jun 29, 2009 15:53:58 GMT -6
Alanna stepped into the elevator and swiped the card in the reader once her Sweet was behind her. The doors shut with a cheerful ding and soft music got piped in over the speakers. It reminded Alanna of some of the good operas from when she was a kid, though she couldn't place the tune. She rode up in silence, listening to the tune, trying to think of what it reminded her.
All too briefly, the song ended and another less pleasant song piped through. Before Alanna could tsk in indignatoin, the door chimed again and slid open, revealing Ms. Largo's office. Alanna arched a delicate red eyebrow at the vast wall of screens and the miriad of flickering images. People's lives danced before her eyes on those screens. Humdrum passers by being eyed by dealers and rich sophisticates chatting all too eagerly with surgeons about their newest surgical upgrade flicked past the images of Repomen gutting people who apparently couldn't pay their debts and taking down graverobbers with even less mercy. Alanna quickly averted her eye as a repoman lifted his scalpel over a begging graverobber's head, unwilling to watch the blood be shed.
"Ms. Largo?" Alanna asked cooly into the room, holding up a hand to keep her Sweet to rush blindly in, but alos signaling him to keep alert.
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Post by Eleonora Largo on Jul 1, 2009 20:35:21 GMT -6
Eleonora was sitting in that huge swiveling chair of hers, watching the largest of the screens that took up the entirety of the window. Hearing Alanna's voice, she dug her fingernails into the fine leather of the chair and gritted her teeth. She breathed in deeply and, uncrossing her legs, pushed the chair around with her free foot. As usual, she wore her crisp business suit (pinstripe, of course), and her father's signature leather gloves. Her hair was tied back in a high bun and she was actually wearing make-up, a rare thing. Usually she kept her face devoid of any of those chemicals, since she preferred a more natural look, and make-up was reserved to hide any surgical scars anyway. Yet Ms. Craft wore make-up quite a lot, and Eleonora had to show that she had some prettiness (at least) to her features as well. The lipstick was blood-red and made her pale skin seem even lighter. Under the few but bright lights in her office, her whole appearance was rather intimidating.
"Hello Ms. Craft. Why don't you have a seat?" She gestured towards two chairs in front of her desk. They were both plush and from a distant time, not at all modern and edgy like contemporary furniture. Her eyes were narrow and her gaze piercing as she stared at Alanna. For a moment she looked over at the young man standing by her. Something about his face was familiar, like she had seen him before. He was gaunt, and had striking black hair, and something about his movement and mannerisms made her stomach churn. He was too familiar, and that bothered her.
"Your young guest can sit down as well," she added, looking straight at him. She smiled coldly.
((I'm going to wait for Eleonora to somewhat recognize him. I'd like them to interact a bit more, since I'm going with the assumption that she doesn't know about her cousin. Fishey, if you want Alanna to take advantage of this, go right ahead. ;D ))
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Post by Alanna Craft on Jul 1, 2009 22:04:53 GMT -6
"Thank you so much for seeing me. I know you are quite busy," Alanna said with a well practiced, warm smile. Outside, she was the image of calm, but inside she was shaking a little. She had prepared herself for months for this meeting, but even with all the research and the personal reassurances, she was still a bit... starstruck.
The Largos were a legend. For all of Alanna's life, their faces had been plastered all over every television, poster, tabloid, magazine and newspaper. Everyone knew about them: the power they possessed, the fear they inspired, the wealth they hoarded, and of course the madness that corrupted their souls. Eleonora had changed the Largo image if only because she had consolidated it. No longer was the spotlight dispersed between four people- it now shown brightly on her. So brightly, in fact, that one might believe that everything the papers said about her was GeneCo's propaganda- and of course, one would be right. Knowing a thing's power, though, didn't change the affect it had on a person, and Alanna was still shaken by the years and years of seeing this woman's face and hearing her praises.
"May I introduce my associate, Emilio Orinth," Alanna asked as she took a seat in the plush chair most perpendicular to Eleonora's and gesturing at her young companion with an open hand. She was careful not to sit too far back, arching her back with perfect posture.
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