Welcome to Gaia! ::

Vincent nodded to himself thoughtfully as Julia spoke, a little transfixed by her arm. His assistants seemed a little awkward about it (themselves not being among those who've lost limbs), but he was rather intrigued to be honest. "Hm, thieves stealing from thieves. The world certainly hasn't gotten any simpler has it?" He asked, a bit of a nostalgic half-smile on his face as he tried to imagine a simpler time (knowing one may have never existed).

He perked up a bit as she seemed to stare into him, clearly trying to get his measure (and of the people he has met, he felt safe in assuming she could be at least somewhat capable in this task, which not many were). He smiled somewhat slyly as she spoke of the effects of burning down the village, enjoying that she seemed to be okay with openly disagreeing with him, or that's what he assumed she was doing. Vincent sat back a little bit and straightened his suit out.

"Well, perhaps you're right Julia. But then again, both Rome and London burned once, and both came out quite strong afterwards. Changed in many ways, but strong. I don't intend to be burning the UN down myself though. No, I'm going to let them do that themselves. My intentions in all of this are... Well, I can't really speak about that. But I can tell you that this will be one of the most interesting UN assemblies in history. Even more interesting than Gorbachev smashing his shoes on tables."

Vincent paused for a moment as he thought, trying to get the image of he chubby bald man, and his shoe, out of his head. "You're right, the UN is still necessary as a forum, and that's exactly what I intend to treat it like. Will things pan out in my favor or against it? Hard to say, but I have a feeling it will get across the message I need to convey. How they take it is irrelevant to me, how the people take it however is relevant." He looked at her arm rather thoughtfully, as it was no reattached, making a connection between that 'clock' she mentioned, and her arm.

"Things are changing though Julia, with or without my influence. Whether I do something or nothing, the world has cast their die. It's fast approaching the time for me to cast mine as well." He went quiet for a moment, and then smiled back at Julia. "Thank you for your brilliant work, and your honesty. It's good to know when I might be making a mistake, whether I am making one or not." He smirked slightly as a thought entered his mind. "Oh, and if I need any help burning down villages, I'll be sure and look to you first." He chuckled slightly. "Now, to where am I driving you? You've been quite generous with me today, dropping you off at home is the least I can do to repay you."

(OOC: Depends how you look at it. wink Getting under his skin is one thing, getting in deep can be a little different. Either way, I look forward to seeing what else can happen between him and Julia, they certainly are shaping up to be interesting business partners! razz )

Snow was sitting in his office still, wondering if Leila would ever call back. There was a time when he would of just showed up at her office and demanded her help though, that never got him very far. Lost in his thoughts, Snow stood and began to pace the room. It was a beautiful night in Albany, the Capitol of New York, the place where anything was possible. Hollywood used to be the place where anything was possible but then, business became more important than coked out Hollywood actresses. Snow had chosen to build his company up here because it was his best chance to really build it up with little to no chance of it ever falling. Walking back to his desk, Snow sat quietly as his cellphone began to ring it's familiar tone.

"Hello?" Snow paused, taking a drink of his Fiji water and leaning back in his chair. He already knew who this was or rather, what this was: a new contract.

"Two PM tomorrow, the suspect will be wearing a red cap and a black / red jacket. Follow him & kill him, quietly this time." Nodding, Snow thought of the ways in which to kill this individual, none of which appealing to his mind. "He'll be stepping off of a train in Brooklyn; we expect nothing short of excellence, Erin." Flinching at the use of his biological name, Snow nodded and hung up the phone. Snow had been Snow since he was three years old, however; one person knew that before his parents legally changed his name, Snow was Erin & his twin sister was Ella, not September. Coughing, Snow waved Ana in and sat in his chair and began typing a few things on his laptop, his eyes flickering from dark to light with the flashing of the computer screen.

"Clear my 2' O'clock tomorrow and reschedule it for five. Also, get Alexandra on the phone and tell her to restock the staff's break room as well as mine. After, you may go home. You've worked longer than usual today." Dismissing her, Snow turned his chair and gazed out the furthest window, his eyes on a skyscraper. Hearing a small cough Snow turned and saw that Ana was still standing there. "What is it?"

"You.. You have another call, sir."

(( Didn't know it started sweatdrop ))

(( Yeah >.< ))

"Greg? You still in here? Greg?"
Looking up from the last of the PTRS-41 rifles left on the checklist, Greg turned around in his chair.
"Still here Tom, I'm down at the range, putting the finishing touches on that outbound order for tomorrow."
He promptly returned to his work, mounting a scope rail, and scope, to the rifle. It seemed there was at least one crazy in any group that wanted to use an anti-materiel rifle against infantry, and they always wanted a scope. Though if those infernal juggernauts Robert's used caught on, sooner or later you'd practically be forced into fielding nothing but anti-materiel rifles against infantry...
"Oh right, that reminds me. Tom, you up for digging up some info on that Ironman project? For personal uses, but I;m pretty sure somebody's going to want it sooner rather than later."
"Which is why when you asked me about it last week, I thought you meant start on it then, not now."
Tom now behind him, Greg again looked up from his work and turned around, slightly confused. Tom was a few years younger than him, still in his twenties. Caucasian, born in Florida, IT specialist, handled communications and gathering digital information for Greg's network. Despite repeated suggestions that he stop wearing sandals and put on some real shoes, he still wore sandals.
"Week ago.... Right. Yes, I did in fact say that. What I mean to ask was have you made, uh, you know...."
"Progress? Yeah, been poking around, trying to solve that problem for you. Lot of closely-guarded secrets there. Lot of in-house stuff, and I figured you didn't really want me digging straight into our own graves here, so I don't got a whole lot. Did find you a cybernetics specialist though, well, 'found'. Didn't get in contact, just do research you know, not your secretary or anything-"
"File Tom, just hand me the file."
Tom handed over a large manila folder of what he'd gathered, and looked around the range.
"Hey Greg, you haven't been here all this week have you? 'Cause I'm getting the impression you haven't stepped outside in about that long."
Already busy looking through what Tom had found out for him, Greg absentmindedly shook his head. He had in fact been here all week filing orders, hadn't slept much either. He didn't need Tom lecturing him on going outside again either, the kid worked with computers, he didn't spend much time outside either.
"Right then, I'll let you get back to doing you man. Catcha' later."
Greg waved goodbye, and went back to reading. It would seem his best option for learning more about Robert's suits of armor would be to get in contact somehow with Julia Mengele, given her extensive background in cybernetics, it was more than likely she'd have some relation to the project. Putting down the folder, he picked up his tools again to finish tuning the last rifle, when the phone interrupted him.
"Speaking? Oh hello to you as well Mr. Orlov, I trust the ammunition shipment was up to your standards? Excellent. Hmmm? Eh..... Yeah. Sure, I can be there. Alright, goodbye."
Hanging up, he promptly dialed his usual deliveries guy.
"Hey, it's me. You think you could make room on the Bolivia delivery for myself, and make a stop in New York? Okay, one more thing, can we leave in like, an hour? Right, meet you there."
Hanging up again, Greg picked up his tools and set to work. He had a half hour to finish the rifle before leaving for the airfield. It was a long trip to New York, he figured he could sleep on the way.


(( I'm hoping that was an invitation and not a mis-quotation. ))

'If you knew my language, you would know Hlaf means crow." she answered heading to the roof of her company. "And yet here I am cleaning up after you. You might be against it but I'm saving your behind. By the way, China will back off. If they call again with another deal let me know." she said hearing him cough. Leila will have to check up on him about that. He coughs every once in awhile. "I'll by in New York soon. Expect me on your rooftop." she told him before hanging up. Leila managed to get into her seat and give her pilot the order to go as she finally made her way to the Americas.

Vincent smiled slightly to himself as Julia talked about her arm. It seemed to throw his staff off quite a bit, which he almost found a little amusing. "The lengths people go for science eh Julia? Not quite as scary as the lengths for beauty mind you." He grinned a little at his remark. "I've never gone quite so far with anything as you have, though once I may have surgically removed life from my father." He looked to his assistants and gave a smirk. "I'm of course only joking everyone. Murder isn't really in my nature, though I would have gladly made an exception for him."

Turning his attention back to Julia, Vincent smiled and nodded. "Sounds excellent, it'll be less time wasted then." The car continued to drive through London until it finally reached Heathrow Airport. Vincent's arrival certainly stirred a little commotion, so he had to wave for a few picture takers. When they got to the ticket area, he paid for his own ticket and Julia's as well, seeing as it would mean less trouble for her, and it was really the least he could do for someone helping him as much as she was. He made a quick stop at the duty free and picked up an 'over night bag' to make up for not having packed. When he arrives in New York City, he'll send his suit to a cleaner and just buy some casual clothes to wear in the meantime.

When he was finally done, he boarded the plane with a few of his assistants and Julia, heading for first class. When they were all finally seated, he took his duty free bag out and opened it up. He liked music, so he had put his MP3 player and head phones (which had been in the car before) into the bag. He plugged everything in and decided to rest for a while. He listened to a couple different songs, but when Ode to Joy came on, a weird dream started to form in his head.

It seemed as though he was in a first person view, presumably his own, and laid out in front of him was a great fiery pit, probably more massive than anything he had seen before. Vincent looked to his left, and saw soldiers charging into the pit, some dressed in camo, others in black. They carried the American flag, British flag, and many other flags as well, which represented most of America's allies. On Vincent's right were similar soldiers, also charging into the pit. They however carried the Russian flag, the Chinese flag, the North Korean flag, and the flags of their other allies too.

At the bottom of the pit was what looked like a beautiful portrait, an image of a serene and happy group of people. The faces changed in ways to represent the armies charging into the pit. What the armies didn't realize though was that the entire pit was completely aflame, and before they even reached the picture at the bottom, they were charred to death. And there, across on the other side of the pit, was a little boy. There was nothing to note in particular about him, but that he held a plain blue flag in his hand. And then, he too burst into flames.

Vincent woke with a start, and rubbed his eyes slowly, a little distressed from the dream. He got up and took his duty free with him, deciding he should shave. All the bathrooms at the front seemed occupied, so he made his way to the back, into 3rd class. Just before he reached the bathroom, a little boy stopped him. "Mister, are you that man from the tv?" He asked curiously. Vincent smiled. "Yes I am, were you watching it?" The little boy fidgeted a bit. "Um, my mummy and daddy were watching, and I listened a bit." Vincent raised an eyebrow slightly. "Oh, and were they yelling or cheering?" He said with a bit of humor. "Um, they were kinda quiet. They didn't say much." The boy replied. "Um, mister, that word you said... four hundar?" Holding back a bit of a chuckle, Vincent replied. "Four hundred million?" He asked. The boy nodded. "Yeah. What is that?" He asked, curious again. "That's a very big number." Vincent replied. The boy fidgeted again.

"So a lot of kids died?" The boy went quiet. "My cousin died... We're going to New Yak because of that." Vincent went quiet as well. "What happened?" The little boy fidgeted again. "Mummy and daddy said somefing about cansar. Mummy said it was too aspenive to help him, Auntie and Uncle couldn'tnt affrod it. He was free years old, and I'm five..." The boy went quiet again. Vincent had no idea what to even say to the poor kid, he just kind of stood there.

"Mister, did my cousin go to heaven?" Vincent felt his gut turn to rot. Standing here, talking to a five year old about death... He knew he had no real reason to feel guilt, but he couldn't help but feel it. "Yes, yes of course he did! All boys and girls go to heaven." The little boy fidgeted more. "Will I go to heaven?" Vincent smiled and nodded. "One day when you're older, and he'll be waiting for you there, ready to hang out and do all the fun stuff you both always wanted to do." The little boy smiled a bit. "You think they have toys in heaven mister?" Vincent nodded. "Of course! Only the best toys in forever!" The little boy smiled more. "But you know, right now I know your cousin wants you to stay here and have fun here! He won't be lonely waiting up there for you, so he wants you to have lots of fun down here." The little boy smiled and nodded. "How do you know so much mister?" The boy asked curiously. Vincent was quiet for a moment before answering. "Well, I learned a lot from kids like you." He said with a smile. "What's your name?" The little boy beamed as he replied. "I'm Jamie, but my real name is James. My cousin's name is George." Vincent nodded as he held out his hand. "Well young master James, it was a pleasure meeting you." The two shook hands, and Vincent continued to the bathroom.

Once he was inside, he felt himself shaking. How many kids has he talked to like this before? He started to realize probably a lot less than he had thought. Vincent thought he knew all about the sufferings kids go through, but he supposed hearing about it was much different than seeing it. While these thoughts ran through his head, Vincent tried shaving, hands still uneasy. He cut himself because of that, and stared into the mirror for a bit. 'Can I really protect the people I promised to protect?' He thought to himself. A three year old boy died because he didn't have medical coverage. That death didn't have to happen, but could he have honestly stopped it? Shaking his head, Vincent finished the shave, leaving his mustache and lower lip hair, put some cologne on his cut, left the bathroom, and returned to his seat. The flight would be a few more hours yet, but they were still fast approaching New York.

(OOC: Used some intentional misspelling with the kid's words, to try and make it look more kid like. xp )