09-08-2013, 02:45 AM
Reed and Abrams were supposed to be his assistants. Interns, excited to be in the center of the CCD's power and bound by their jobs to serve Nicholas' every whim and fancy. Hah. I wish.
After breakfast, Abrams had set himself to work on one of the Holoframes they'd brought along. If there was one thing he was good at, it was appearing uninteresting.
Holographic computer interfaces were still new and damn expensive. Only the best for my interns.
He had one in his office, but hadn't felt the need to lug one out to Moscow. It was 0830 and his evil twin was about to arrive.
Nicholas had nothing but time to fill. "Takeo Onoda. Privilege of Dominance IV. Modern day ninja and news personality. More corrupt than... well, than most people who aren't working for the CCD. Anything else I should know?"
Abrams shook his head. He wasn't much more talkative than Reed, not when he didn't have to be. Reed.
She'd slipped out while Abrams was setting his computer up. Abrams said she was running reconnaissance. Whatever there was to scope out in the Ritz-Carlton.
His public image hadn't taken nearly as much of a hit as he'd expected when he left for Moscow. A few celebrities had been championing his cause. A couple crazies, too. He'd have to distance himself from Jessika Thrice as much as possible when he got home. She was ten times worse as a friend than as an enemy.
That reminds me.
Jon Little Bird was in Moscow. He'd have to meet up for a drink or something--see how the court case was going, maybe do another interview. More importantly, it was good to have somebody in Moscow he could count as a friend, no matter how tenuously. Friend? I barely know the guy.
It'd still be nice to talk to somebody who wasn't a CCD lackey. I wonder if they've got good whiskey in Moscow.
It wasn't nervousness that was making his mind wander--why would he be afraid of another corrupt CCD politician?--it was anticipation. He just wanted to get it over with, and until that clock struck 0900 he felt like he had an itch between his shoulder blades he couldn't quite reach.
He glanced at the clock. 0900. Well shit.
A couple seconds later he heard a sharp knock at the door. He crossed the room and pulled it open. So this is Tokeo? I thought he'd be taller.
He didn't force a smile, but he did extend a hand. There was no excuse not to be civil. "I'm Nicholas Trano, nice to meet you. Can't say I'm a fan of your work but I know you're very good at what you do."
Edited by Nick Trano, Sep 15 2013, 11:11 PM.
After breakfast, Abrams had set himself to work on one of the Holoframes they'd brought along. If there was one thing he was good at, it was appearing uninteresting.
Holographic computer interfaces were still new and damn expensive. Only the best for my interns.
He had one in his office, but hadn't felt the need to lug one out to Moscow. It was 0830 and his evil twin was about to arrive.
Nicholas had nothing but time to fill. "Takeo Onoda. Privilege of Dominance IV. Modern day ninja and news personality. More corrupt than... well, than most people who aren't working for the CCD. Anything else I should know?"
Abrams shook his head. He wasn't much more talkative than Reed, not when he didn't have to be. Reed.
She'd slipped out while Abrams was setting his computer up. Abrams said she was running reconnaissance. Whatever there was to scope out in the Ritz-Carlton.
His public image hadn't taken nearly as much of a hit as he'd expected when he left for Moscow. A few celebrities had been championing his cause. A couple crazies, too. He'd have to distance himself from Jessika Thrice as much as possible when he got home. She was ten times worse as a friend than as an enemy.
That reminds me.
Jon Little Bird was in Moscow. He'd have to meet up for a drink or something--see how the court case was going, maybe do another interview. More importantly, it was good to have somebody in Moscow he could count as a friend, no matter how tenuously. Friend? I barely know the guy.
It'd still be nice to talk to somebody who wasn't a CCD lackey. I wonder if they've got good whiskey in Moscow.
It wasn't nervousness that was making his mind wander--why would he be afraid of another corrupt CCD politician?--it was anticipation. He just wanted to get it over with, and until that clock struck 0900 he felt like he had an itch between his shoulder blades he couldn't quite reach.
He glanced at the clock. 0900. Well shit.
A couple seconds later he heard a sharp knock at the door. He crossed the room and pulled it open. So this is Tokeo? I thought he'd be taller.
He didn't force a smile, but he did extend a hand. There was no excuse not to be civil. "I'm Nicholas Trano, nice to meet you. Can't say I'm a fan of your work but I know you're very good at what you do."
Edited by Nick Trano, Sep 15 2013, 11:11 PM.