Dante Piranesi's Story

Dante Piranesi enters through the side door, walking heavily with his leather boots beneath his massive 7' frame.

...and where did that little runt Arcus go?

Dante Piranesi reaches up and brushes off his extremely expensive suit.

Dante Piranesi then reaches down and opens his jacket slightly, exposing one of the two .45 Desert Eagles he keeps attached to his sides.

Dante Piranesi nods at this, letting the barlight glance off his polished head.

Dante Piranesi leaned in from the western Entrance.

'ey Boss, you need any help in here?

he inquired, having heard the tension from outside.

This is an example post written from the main roleplay page that should have Master, Arcus Sol, and Dante Piranesi all tagged using the now complete character identification system. When a character is tagged in a post, the post will show up on that character's page, regardless of who wrote the post itself.

Something the matter, boss?

asked the granite monolith of the sun beam.

Arcus said nothing, and instead stared stoically at the elevator wall in front of him as it descended. His mind was elsewhere, elsewhen. The upcoming announcement would have grave consequences, and all possible combinations of moves needed to be accounted for.

Dante didn't think much of it and returned to his normal duty as the elevator slowed to a halt. He pulled on the cuff of the leather gloves adorning his massive hands, which made a soft creaking sound just as the ding of the arrival made itself known.

Please mind your manners, Dante.

Arcus quipped, signalling his preparedness for the business ahead. The door opened, and the pair of them stepped out into the dining hall's foyer and made their way towards the frosted glass doors that were adorned with the Sol crest. One of the two females on either side of the door greeted them as she leaned over to open it.

Hello, Mr. Sol. It's good to see you again.

Arcus nodded in response, and his blue eyes led their way back up her slender figure as he walked past. He strode into the meeting just as his hid rose back up to attention, and his arms unfurled from behind him in a welcoming gesture.

Good day, gentlemen! I trust you've made yourselves at home?

he chided as he made his way towards the men, palms up and arms outstretched.

Dante folded his hands in front of him and made his way to the side of the room, flanking the group and staring at them from behind the eyes of his darkened eyepieces.

Vidious rose when Arcus entered, offering a polite bow in greeting before returning to his seat and settling his gloved palms upon the table. "I have found your staff most welcoming," he answered with a cool nod. A click of his fingers to the side had the kitchen hands calmly wandering off to begin preparing the meals or collecting what was already cooked.

One of Norrington's palms immediately pressed to his angled face, staring on from behind his all-concealing costume as he locked eyes on Dante. He was quite sure combat wouldn't break out. Didn't mean he liked the situation. Meeting with strangers... Bah. How the hell did business men do it? The threat of unwashed hands alone was enough to keep Norrington from social interaction, let alone potentially dangerous strangers in close quarters. He shuffled in his seat, pulling his knees up to his chest.

"As ironic as it may be," Vidious offered with a gesture of his hand to the table laid out before them, "Be my guest. I ordered them to prepare a few dishes. After all, I had no idea how many I would be meeting with today. Such large corporations normally involve a dozen business men. Especially for the amount of money I am willing to simply drop into your lap." A small curt smile of self appreciation, both probing at the mans business practices and throwing out the bait of profits at once.

Arcus slid a chair out from the table with a smooth motion of his left foot, his arms still outstretched. Perfectly in step with his gait, he settled into the chair across from Vidious, his long leg folding over the other as his hands came to rest gently on his knee.

Ah, excellent.

he responded. A quick glance to the side door gave Arcus the chance to indicate his appetite; for sustenance, or for profit?

I look forward to enjoying their efforts, Vidious. I'm sure they've made good use of our resources here at Sol Enterprises,

he deflected, before returning his gaze back at the man who had gone through all the necessary security checks to arrange such a meeting.

Yes, and for something... quite special indeed.

he continued. Arcus was far less interested in the immediate profit than he was getting the opportunity to showcase his most recent opus.

Have you had the opportunity to review the available options?

he said, leaping straight to the point. He knew full well that the report he'd sent over had contained only the most basic of details, but perhaps just enough to whet the appetite of the most discerning pilots.

You see, with the commoditization of mobile suits over the past decade, they had rendered themselves effectively obsolete in the developed part of the galaxy. Almost a cold war of technology, with no companies daring to develop further technology that would bring these types of weapons to the battlefield, even while battleships and tactical fighters waged war overhead and ground troops fought it out on land. The golden age of the mobile suit had come to a grinding halt.

That is, until now.

"Ah..." the tone was immediately sounding unimpressed. He needed say no more, really. Only offer a patient smile and a his hands calmly resting in his lap. Wandering in came the servers, placing down plates of freshly cooked spaghetti, steamed fish and one or two other other gourmet dishes. From the bored look on Vidious face as he evaluated each, he dined like this regularly. He pointed out one such dish and a plate was hastily served for him.

Norrington stared on hungrily. Oh god how he loved fish. He knew what he was having for dinner. But his own paranoia meant he would not be eating with them. Just idly sitting by.

"See now had I come to you normally this would be a request for a dozen units of your most standard and practical mechs. I am a business man after all. This time however my business is not with practicality, but with appearances. You could say its advertising. But I seek something more... Unique. Both physically and in technology. In fact, you could say, give me five utterly experimental units."

He reached for a fork, which held a strange pair of prongs on either side. The purpose became apparent as he guided food for his mouth. It pushed his lips aside to stop them from touching the food. He swallowed quickly, after having given it all a moment to sink in. "I have a mere few specifications. The height, the cockpits, and a request that they all mesh thematically, though that can be a matter of names."

The tip of Arcus' mouth curled up into a smirk as his potential customer's words fell on his ears. Arcus had something special for him indeed.

Dante put his hand to his ear, where one of his cochlear implants had summoned his attention. He turned his head from the men in the room, and glanced out the window, where the setting sun was casting crepuscular rays of light across the horizon. He surveyed the buildings surrounding Sol Tower, glanced down at his watch, and returned his attention to the meeting.

Finishing a bite of the food he had been served, Arcus pressed the cloth napkin to his lip and folded it across his lap.

Quite the meal, don't you think?

he toyed, slying away from the topic at hand.

Vidious offered a mere nod. "Adequate, but to be expected of a hired catering company. I really must acquire my own personal chef. Norrington, could you please take the specifications to Mister Sol?" He turned his head sidewards to the assassin expectantly.

"What? Me? I thought you brought the notes."

"Norrinton, could you please take the specifications to Mister Sol?"

Norrington's innocent wide-eyed stare lasted only a second more before he grumbled and climbed to his feet, reaching into his clothes to retrieve a clip board. How he concealed such a thing against his body was a mystery. Well, no it was magic. As he walked for the opposite side of the table he cast a glance over his shoulder in the same direction Arcus and his companion looked, as if suspicious. He held out the board and the few sheets of paper on it. "Here's your checklist."

Vidious specifications seemed peculiar. Each mech was to be between eight and twelve meters tall and capable of moving quickly on road-like surfaces with a focus on high-maneuverability in tight places. Likewise, he requested that at least one of the mechs could fly and that the leader of the group should be a half-times larger than the others. Cockpits were intended to be adjustable to suit multiple different shapes and sizes. He wanted a variety of melee and ranged weapons, either on each or spread amongst the group.

"I hope everything is within your bounds. I would hate to take my business elsewhere after arranging this meeting."

"Forgive me, gentlemen," Vidious announced as he raised to his feet, hands gently pressing against the tablecloth, "But I fear we have already indulged in our dining, and business, leaving you sorely lacking any reason to be here other than confirmation." He offered a bow with one hand across his stomach. "My humblest apologies."

"As the for delivery date and destination ah, as soon as they can be ready and fully functioning. And there is an old airfield out of town derelict and unused. I believe its in the Boiling Plains? Even if there isn't, seems like the perfect place to test out the machines, yes? So contact me when they're ready and we will meet up out there at a specified time and date."

He dusted himself off, then gestured for the clipboard. "A number to reach me is on there. You may get my receptionist."

Norrington, however, had brought himself to the back of the room when the others entered, pressing himself practically to the wall. It wasn't an action of fear, it was an action of preparation. He knew this was a business meeting but he'd be damned if he thought it was acceptable to have five goons walk into the middle of one. He was already thinking of ditching Vidious and his Sleeveless guards. Said guards were still waiting for Vidious order to leave.

Arcus paused, ceasing all motion. He then glanced over at his scientists, staring deeply at Instructor H.

I suspect we'll be ready in one week's time. I'll reach out with information regarding the demo.

he said as he turned back towards the departing Vidious. He and splayed his fingers out on the table before leaning forward onto them and rose to his feet, causing the chair to slide backwards with a soft shuffle.

You know, there is a storm coming.

he alluded, before gesturing to the door with his right hand.

Doctor J's mechanical arm clattered as the armatures snapped shut. He uttered a subvocal hum, audible evidence of his displeasure at Arcus' betrayal. Dante turned his head to the right in response, angling it slightly away from the group and back out the window. Arcus, however, took absolutely no note of this—he instead held his posture, arm outstretched to the door.

It was Doktor S who first turned, preempting Vidious' move for the exit. Lifting his left hand over his shoulder, he gave a blasé wave to Arcus and began to walk away. The gesture was first followed by the impatient Professor G, and the rest quickly followed suit, leaving Doctor J as the remaining individual standing there, his gaze lingering upon Arcus.

Arcus turned his hand over, knuckles up, and gave a quick flick of his fingers to send the remaining scientist away.

Dante Piranesi looked up from his glass of scotch to take in the general appearance of the newcomers. He was off-duty, but it never hurt to be aware of one's own surroundings.

It was time to rest and recuperate — next week was going to be a big one. Arcus was arriving.

You think she would be used to the chaos at this point. You'd think she learn to realise that despite something seemingly absolute in Terra the only absolute was there was no absolute. Not in jobs, mortality, leadership, governments, culture, religion, the list itself was neverending as the outcomes in this planet which attracted every fundamental problem and then tap danced while Rome burned.

In short, common sense told her she should not have been surprised by the phone call two weeks ago. Common sense dictates that this planet could no longer pull a fast one on her. Yet, she had been surprised to get a phone call from Sol Enterprises regarding her termination 'unofficially' apparently they wanted her back. Why, because she was reliable and getting a reliable person in Wing City was as unlikely as The Aschen Empire Mass Disarming and Founding a Hippy Commune.

Basically, she possessed this rare quality as it was.

So here she was now, in present once more in Sol Enterprises dressed in a dark green pantsuit, hair tied up, sat down at the computer and reading an email:

To all Staff of Sol Enterprises, you are asked to spruce the place up and rehire any lapsed help. We have just been informed via a communique that Arcus Sol, our Founder is returning in one week.

Of all her time working here, she had rarely seen or heard of Arcus Sol except when he left the building or she called to inform him a customer or guest has arrived. In fact when he had vanished, not much had changed, but Sol Enterprises seemed to quieten down at least temporarily, everything still worked. Just fewer outsiders entered into Sol Tower. Rather, like that book by Roald Dahl, except less whimsical and more just plain weird.

Being she was the Receptionist, she decided to phone one of the few upper staff members, dialling the extension.

She waited as the phone rang, before speaking, "Hello, Ms McGuire Receptionist, I am phoning regarding the mass e-mail sent. Is it true Arcus Sol is returning or is this some sort of joke?"

Makthus took the very first step into the lobby, a wide, confident grin across his features. One could immediately get the notion that there was something wrong with him, wrong as in the notion that a character like him definitely didn't fit, the raggedy clothes and the large sword, and secondly that he soundly ignored that every single one of the black clad enforcers around the lobby was already eyeing him, some moving closer to him. Makthus eyes darted across the room, far too fast for him to seemingly catch any details, yet he did. The threathening aura around him not having any effect on his pure smile.

There wasn't any laws against entering the building, but the quite intimidating figures outside weren't gonna let any very obvious criminals enter the building. I was even harder than Makthus had thought to get inside, he had to drop a few names, a couple of passive-aggresive statements all followed up by a short charismatic threat involving his very own reputation until the large man took a short step to the side. Now upon entering the thought hit Makthus that he was perhaps only getting more staff and a couple enforcers to arrest him. He gave a short shrug, shrugging off both that notion and the dangerous glares surrounding him.

Taking a few steps forwad, long strides until he reached the counter which a quite dazzling woman was seated behind. Leaning onto it with his one arm, he took a quick glance back, giving a cringe towards the very apparant mud he had dragged inside in a neat line. The woman was talking to the phone so he took a moment to lean back, watching the nedlessly large holographic interfaces going on and on about uninteresting things. He swung his left arm up, prompting the undercover guards around him to freeze, inbefore he opened his mouth and picked a bit of lunch out of his teeth, glaring at the tiny piece for a bit before flicking it in a fine arc and leaning back to the woman, giving her the same grin as he waited for her to finish her call.

Hearing the affirmative she responded, "I see, well what should I say to people who come here expecting to see him now?" raising her eyes she saw someone waiting, but refused to make eye contact quite yet, "Very well, I am to tell them they are to see Mr Piranesi as he has arrived earlier to account for all changes and update Arcus on this." with-holding a sigh, she finished, "Thank you, I shall be sure to do so. Goodbye." nodding she placed the headset down and immediately started typing new information before acknowledging the 'person' which would be generous by all accounts. Then again Terra drew forth oddest individuals in its mishmash of cultures, religions, races, species and other assortment of madness.

She regarded him with the patient but polite gaze, one hand is hidden, ready to push a silent buzzer if he caused trouble, "Greetings, Mr, um... welcome to Sol Enterprises - Solutions for an Ever-changing Multiverse. I am Ms McGuire, the receptionist, obviously." still cautious she went on, "We at Sol Enterprises pride ourselves on studying extensive fields both scientific, magical and metaphysical, because of this we are often seen as the jack of trades Corporation with Franchises throughout the entire Interstellar systems."

Taking a breath to elicit a sigh, she paused to start typing some more before continuing, "Please inform me, where you wish to go and who you wish to see. If you have an appointment it may net a quicker response. If not you may be required to wait a week perhaps two before we can see you."

Staring straight into his eyes she dropped the bombshell, "Sol Enterprises also requests if you have weapons to hand them over. Those who do not will find themselves being dealt with by automated security. Unlike myself, the security droids are not polite nor are they understanding. You have a weapons or weapons you will hand them over. If you try to bypass this you will find that Sol Enterprises prides itself heavily on handling such matters." smirking with relish she added with faux twee politeness, "Do I make myself clear?"