11-06-2016, 11:31 PM
As she turned away, with her calm berating of his choice of words, Jacques flashed a brief smirk. Part of the experience of burlesque was the tease and the parody. Classic burlesque had been a more 'adult' themed take on popular plays or musicals, including jokes and parody, to entertain their audience.
Modern burlesque tended to take a more sarcastic approach; back-handed complements, sardonic comments, and the like, coupled of course with the ever-classic tease. Of course, while his comment was meant to reflect his rather lacking appreciation of Russian business techniques, it had also allowed him a moment to gauge his would-be handler for the evening. The woman was patient, at least. Professional enough not to have let the implied insult ruffle her feathers too far.
"I am not fond of them, myself. Most in Africa are not staffed by the willing."
He had had a few run-ins with such dens in his time as an officer, what felt like many long years ago. Another lifetime entirely, perhaps. There weren't many international task-forces left in the world seeking to deal with the many troubles that plagued the continent, and human trafficking had only seen an increase with the steady collapse of the dozens of countries that had funded and supported such task forces.
It was a tradition he had carried over from the Legion Premiere's previous CEO, the training and support of various national police forces to deal with organized international crime syndicates, especially those that dealt in human trafficking. Their efforts had been, at best, token, but the new Legion would be far more proactive. They would no longer be shackled by international law or corrupt domestic politicians.
He followed her without comment as to her hesitation and obvious decision not to take his hand; he couldn't exactly blame her. His prosthetic was off-putting to most in the CCD, he had noticed. Perhaps for how out-dated it was, or perhaps for the unwanted reminder of just how mortal and fragile humans really were.
"I suspect this meeting will be far shorter then he hopes for. Just some rich fool expecting to dazzle some back-water warlord with a few stacks of cash in exchange for a few 'little concessions.'"
He was well aware of how many main-stream media outlets were labeling him. It didn't help that some of those agencies were owned or heavily influenced by organizations and individuals he was starting to seriously piss off in Africa, what with his desire to build schools or improve living conditions. The sorts of meddling foolishness that would require an increase in working wages.
Modern burlesque tended to take a more sarcastic approach; back-handed complements, sardonic comments, and the like, coupled of course with the ever-classic tease. Of course, while his comment was meant to reflect his rather lacking appreciation of Russian business techniques, it had also allowed him a moment to gauge his would-be handler for the evening. The woman was patient, at least. Professional enough not to have let the implied insult ruffle her feathers too far.
"I am not fond of them, myself. Most in Africa are not staffed by the willing."
He had had a few run-ins with such dens in his time as an officer, what felt like many long years ago. Another lifetime entirely, perhaps. There weren't many international task-forces left in the world seeking to deal with the many troubles that plagued the continent, and human trafficking had only seen an increase with the steady collapse of the dozens of countries that had funded and supported such task forces.
It was a tradition he had carried over from the Legion Premiere's previous CEO, the training and support of various national police forces to deal with organized international crime syndicates, especially those that dealt in human trafficking. Their efforts had been, at best, token, but the new Legion would be far more proactive. They would no longer be shackled by international law or corrupt domestic politicians.
He followed her without comment as to her hesitation and obvious decision not to take his hand; he couldn't exactly blame her. His prosthetic was off-putting to most in the CCD, he had noticed. Perhaps for how out-dated it was, or perhaps for the unwanted reminder of just how mortal and fragile humans really were.
"I suspect this meeting will be far shorter then he hopes for. Just some rich fool expecting to dazzle some back-water warlord with a few stacks of cash in exchange for a few 'little concessions.'"
He was well aware of how many main-stream media outlets were labeling him. It didn't help that some of those agencies were owned or heavily influenced by organizations and individuals he was starting to seriously piss off in Africa, what with his desire to build schools or improve living conditions. The sorts of meddling foolishness that would require an increase in working wages.