01-06-2017, 09:51 PM
The woman strode forward, confidently surpassing men that far outranked her. Surprise pricked the exterior of his universe like a light flashing on the edge of his vision. Perhaps he should have anticipated the Representative to abandon tradition for practicality. The video of her speech indicated as much to her personality, but still, when entombed within the Imperial Throne Room, standing in the presence of the Ascendancy, many a bold man found themselves silenced.
She was bold as she approached, a quaint smile touching the edges of her lips. The expression was girlish, but also coy, like she had a secret she was taunting him to guess. He descended the steps, soft footfalls little more than whispers to his power-enhanced hearing. "Miss Avalon,"
he replied, capturing her hand in his, "the pleasure is mine."
So young, he thought. She had to be thirty? If that. He knew he looked near to the same age, at first glance, but there was a youthfulness behind her eyes that was absent from his. Although, perhaps he was mistaking idealism for youth. Although they're likely one in the same.
"Welcome to my home,"
he released her hand, somewhat reluctantly, but swept his gaze at just the last moment to include the remainder of the party in the sentiment. Why did President Dawson send Evelyn among their group? How much of the power could she command? He was eager to speak with her about it and discover the extent of her knowledge, but not now. It would need to be broached strategically.
They continued with the remainder of the introductions. He took a moment with each individual member of the party, warmly shaking their hand and welcoming each personally. He inquired after their health and their fatigue. Had they had time to rest from the journey? Ironic, given whom among them was closest to death of late. He was a gracious host, of course. Charm went farther than brutality.
"Thank you for coming to Moscow. I am intrigued by the topic of discussion you propose, although unclear of the details. If you will all join me to pose for the press in the next hall, we can sit and speak with some privacy afterward."
They did just that. The press happily visualized the meeting of the two nations. The Ascendancy's flag predominated the background of the lavish hall they entered, followed by the great flag of the CCD, and finally, smaller images of DI. Opposing them, however, was the American flag, although his gaze slid over it without a hint of nostalgia.
He flashed a smile when the time was right. Image was everything, after all.
She was bold as she approached, a quaint smile touching the edges of her lips. The expression was girlish, but also coy, like she had a secret she was taunting him to guess. He descended the steps, soft footfalls little more than whispers to his power-enhanced hearing. "Miss Avalon,"
he replied, capturing her hand in his, "the pleasure is mine."
So young, he thought. She had to be thirty? If that. He knew he looked near to the same age, at first glance, but there was a youthfulness behind her eyes that was absent from his. Although, perhaps he was mistaking idealism for youth. Although they're likely one in the same.
"Welcome to my home,"
he released her hand, somewhat reluctantly, but swept his gaze at just the last moment to include the remainder of the party in the sentiment. Why did President Dawson send Evelyn among their group? How much of the power could she command? He was eager to speak with her about it and discover the extent of her knowledge, but not now. It would need to be broached strategically.
They continued with the remainder of the introductions. He took a moment with each individual member of the party, warmly shaking their hand and welcoming each personally. He inquired after their health and their fatigue. Had they had time to rest from the journey? Ironic, given whom among them was closest to death of late. He was a gracious host, of course. Charm went farther than brutality.
"Thank you for coming to Moscow. I am intrigued by the topic of discussion you propose, although unclear of the details. If you will all join me to pose for the press in the next hall, we can sit and speak with some privacy afterward."
They did just that. The press happily visualized the meeting of the two nations. The Ascendancy's flag predominated the background of the lavish hall they entered, followed by the great flag of the CCD, and finally, smaller images of DI. Opposing them, however, was the American flag, although his gaze slid over it without a hint of nostalgia.
He flashed a smile when the time was right. Image was everything, after all.