01-12-2025, 02:13 PM
Edwin was directed to take a seat, where he remained until he was escorted via elevator and led through into Zhenya’s office. The security protocols from the moment he entered the doors to the moment he was presented were completely seamless. Pervaya’s building was sleek but largely unadorned, leaning more into practicality than showmanship, and its public halls were mostly quiet. But Zhenya’s personal realm reflected her far more closely, for it was a beautiful space, filled with personal touch. A panoramic view of the city backdropped. The woman herself was not behind the desk, and she was standing ready to greet him when he entered.
Zhenya’s welcome was disarmingly warm. Pervaya had a somewhat ruthless reputation for its delivery, and the woman at its helm rarely met preconceptions for the head of Moscow’s most prestigious security firm. Her suit was clearly designer, her accessories tasteful and expensive, the most beautiful of which was her open smile. Her clear Chinese blood also sometimes gave others pause in the heart of the Custody, for her father and predecessor was Russian to his core. No one ever commented on it, though.
Her dark eyes took Edwin in, but it seemed nothing if not a pleasant judgement. Zhenya’s hand extended to shake his, and she placed her other hand atop when he did, making it something far less formal. “Mister Dean, welcome,” she said. Operators were not required to present themselves in a certain way – god knows they only ever managed to get White in off the rack suits when it was strictly necessary – but Zhenya’s eye naturally preferred them to look the part. She noted the suit, the short hair.
“Zhenya Disir. A pleasure.” She gestured to an arrangement of chairs that made the most of the view. The low table was already adorned with refreshments, which he was quite free to partake in. She sat first, crossing her legs, watching as he settled. “I’m pleased you responded to our invitation.” She made it sound benign, and of course she had already read the report, but she wanted to know what he had interpreted of the evening.
Zhenya’s welcome was disarmingly warm. Pervaya had a somewhat ruthless reputation for its delivery, and the woman at its helm rarely met preconceptions for the head of Moscow’s most prestigious security firm. Her suit was clearly designer, her accessories tasteful and expensive, the most beautiful of which was her open smile. Her clear Chinese blood also sometimes gave others pause in the heart of the Custody, for her father and predecessor was Russian to his core. No one ever commented on it, though.
Her dark eyes took Edwin in, but it seemed nothing if not a pleasant judgement. Zhenya’s hand extended to shake his, and she placed her other hand atop when he did, making it something far less formal. “Mister Dean, welcome,” she said. Operators were not required to present themselves in a certain way – god knows they only ever managed to get White in off the rack suits when it was strictly necessary – but Zhenya’s eye naturally preferred them to look the part. She noted the suit, the short hair.
“Zhenya Disir. A pleasure.” She gestured to an arrangement of chairs that made the most of the view. The low table was already adorned with refreshments, which he was quite free to partake in. She sat first, crossing her legs, watching as he settled. “I’m pleased you responded to our invitation.” She made it sound benign, and of course she had already read the report, but she wanted to know what he had interpreted of the evening.
![[Image: zhenya-banner--scaled.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/zhenya-banner--scaled.jpg)