11-03-2016, 09:12 PM
"And in my experience, few men can really appreciate the experience a place like this offers. A moment to shelter from, to forget at least for a time, the horrors of the world."
He was looking at his wayward escort, Caporale Iyer, whom had found his way to a pillar-centered table near the stage, a drink in hand and, for the moment at least, relaxed.
"To men like these, it's the chance to flaunt their wealth. To be dotted on by beautiful women, and the self-indulgent belief that what attentions they are afforded are merited."
He flashed a smile at the thought, and offered her a shrug, "I, sadly, cannot quite let myself be quite so distracted. Yet, at least."
He then waggled a finger. The prosthetic that had replaced his right hand was crude by the standards of the CCD; function over form, no wasted effort or cost on disguising it from casual observance. The hand was raw plastics and metal, but fully articulated.
He raised his drink in a gesture for her to lead the way to wherever she had in mind; Mr Jahoda would send word when he arrived, so there was no real need for Jacques to waste his time watching the door. "Russians are a strange folk, when it comes to business. It's just as likely an important meeting be held in a board room as a bordello. Although I wonder which venue sees the most corruption and greed. No offense, of course."
The comment was meant entirely towards the business world, not the state of the morals of those who worked at Kallisti. But perhaps the more insulting comment, and one that could at times land one in a bit of trouble. But Jacques was a proponent on the importance of history and origins. If those were forgotten, so too would the lessons they could teach.
He was looking at his wayward escort, Caporale Iyer, whom had found his way to a pillar-centered table near the stage, a drink in hand and, for the moment at least, relaxed.
"To men like these, it's the chance to flaunt their wealth. To be dotted on by beautiful women, and the self-indulgent belief that what attentions they are afforded are merited."
He flashed a smile at the thought, and offered her a shrug, "I, sadly, cannot quite let myself be quite so distracted. Yet, at least."
He then waggled a finger. The prosthetic that had replaced his right hand was crude by the standards of the CCD; function over form, no wasted effort or cost on disguising it from casual observance. The hand was raw plastics and metal, but fully articulated.
He raised his drink in a gesture for her to lead the way to wherever she had in mind; Mr Jahoda would send word when he arrived, so there was no real need for Jacques to waste his time watching the door. "Russians are a strange folk, when it comes to business. It's just as likely an important meeting be held in a board room as a bordello. Although I wonder which venue sees the most corruption and greed. No offense, of course."
The comment was meant entirely towards the business world, not the state of the morals of those who worked at Kallisti. But perhaps the more insulting comment, and one that could at times land one in a bit of trouble. But Jacques was a proponent on the importance of history and origins. If those were forgotten, so too would the lessons they could teach.