Vangelis

Socho Mitsuji waited patiently for his Cerulan liason, Kalirayaa with a cautious eye. Zaba was a dangerous planet populated with a bellicose breed of alien that prided their being off invulnerability. It was a planet one just doesn't visit casually. Which was why the Endymion Squadron risked a rendezvous on this planet specifically. NitogunsoMatsuda & Nessman cozied in their penthouse chairs being served alien food and beverage. Mitsuji paced the panoramic window balancing his blade. The Zaban host were friendly, but their could be a possible rogue in their ranks attempting to capitalize off vulnerable foreigners.

The liason had set this as the place of contact, the three Gunso had no part in the location or people hosting the rendezvous. It was a meeting of faith. Especially since Kalirayaa, the Cerulan Empire in general were estranged to the Soichiro agents. No one in their company made contact with the Cerulan in half a decade.

"She late or do Cerulan run on different time?" Nitogunso Nessman asked with his eyes lasered on his copy of the book: 'The Run of His Life: The People vs. O. J. Simpson'. Nitogunso Matsuda's piercing, dark eyes kept drifting onto his book as she casually filed her stiletto nails, the ring of the metal echoed the room. No one seemed to let it bother them simply tuning it out.

"She is a Verillian native, Nessman." Eijima said monitoring the busy courtyard below. He spun around and stalked towards the two Gunso. "She's traveled more worlds and experienced more horrific things than neither of us can process. And to answer your question she has a very vocal distaste for human interpretation of time. She's more....circadian."

Nessman moved his book from his face, alerting Matsuda to break her gaze as Socho Mitsuji stood before them. "I know you have academic assignments Gunso Nessman, but we need you present and alert. You as well Matsuda." The water bearer snapped her metal nail filer to offense and motioned as if she were launching it at a target, shooting Socho Mitsuji a warm grin.

"But your concern is warranted, Nessman. She was supposed to arrive before us." the tecnopath said, summoning the AI D.E.M.I. An orb rose from his hand showcasing a spherical kaleidoscope of movement. Tapping the temple of his face a hardlight screen surfaced at his eye level. "I'm going to do a quick sentry of her whereabouts." The hiss of the penthouse door opening was met with a Zaban caterer with more food and beverage. The techo-orb saw it's out and zoomed out the door before falling under a shower of invisible light....

Definitely imagined Darkchild & Angela Lee like this when I read that..

@cynthetic said:

@vangelis:

With the faint hum of his foot propulsion systems, Anthony Stark shifted to an upright position in the air, steadying his massive metal frame. Contact with the ground was made, solid, metallic clanking signaling his landing. He stepped forward with graceful ease in the suit toward the door.

The invitation hadn't come with a surprise, in truth, he had been contacted multiple times by different sources; the FBI, CIA, NATO, EU, America, UK, Canada, and about every other country and organization in the world -- Yet the only ones which piqued his limited interest were parties, lots of them. He looked at the doorman as his golden face mask pealed back to reveal that familiar face, a wry smirk bordered by a styled goatee, a twinkle in his eye. Anthony clicked his tongue at some astonished patrons as he walked to the front of the line to speak with the doorman.

"Anthony Stark. I trust the name and dashing good looks haven't been forgotten." The metallic exoskeleton stayed firm to his body, not really wanting to take it off. "Here for party. Oh…" He snapped his mechanical fingers. "Let's hope it doesn't disappoint." He shrugged and pushed past and into the club like he owned it. "I'd tip, but no pockets." He shouted back without so much as turning his head. Now, how had invited him? The mischievous mind in the Annihilator suit had to keep his wits about him. This could be a trap. But for now.

Party.

A commotion had seized the audience at the entrance of the dining hall and snapped Eijima from his mental solitude. The glossy armor dancing off the lights was a familiar and iconic aesthetic. It was true. Anthony Stark had risen. He was thee Modern Machiavelli.

Quietly approaching, taking swigs of his San Martin the technopath scanned Stark's equipment activity. Their were multiple sources of energy: heat, particle, electric, kinetic. The particle energy intrigued Eijima the most, his techno-scan read a device installed that converted the particles into an anonymous, unreadable energy oddly enough.

Hooking a MUSE models under his arm, a brunette, Eijima cleared a path leading directly to Stark. With the audience flanking him and his model he introduced himself, "It's an honor Mr. Stark. Though I didn't expect you to show in uniform."he looked over Stark's Annihilator Suit again, seeing a fish eye reflection of him and his brunette on the sheen of his chestplate. "It's a creative beauty." Hired press snapped a rapid onslaught of photos of Stark & Mitsuji's first encounter.

It be like that sometimes.

Alexandra sighed, deciding to give the king his space foe now.

Snickers.

Aesthetic alone has me intrigued.

And the write-up was equally engaging. Impressive work, Psy [ and DC (?) ]

Spits out tea!

@cynthetic@pyrogram:

Stockholm, Sweden - JUPITER Conference

Well fed, Eijima Mitsuji wind down on a glencarin glass of chilled San Martin talking over technology with a table full of drunk strangers--well all except two.

"We'll have actual terraforming plans ready for Mars in two years. Quote me." Viktor Lundgren stated, with a whimsical light flickering in his pistachio green eyes. The Swedish native had come a long way from being a model, a criminal and now arguably one of Earth's top visionaries.

Arthur D. Levinson, Chairman of Apple INC., postured his hand into a steeple, suspicious of the blonde chameleon legitimacy on the subjects of science. He chuckled under his breath, "Viktor, It was...kind of you to give us your space to hold the conference. Greatly appreciated. Now Mr. Watanabe." Levinson said, completely dismissing the statement Viktor made seconds prior. "That starship in your presentation. What was the name of it again?"

"The Miyamoto." Daisuke Tanabe replied tersely, with a courtesy smile. "And our familes Tzu cystals are installed throughout the starship as a power source and database. "the Japanese native exchanged a warm look with Viktor, communicating a silent and familiar language with one another.

What the pretentious chairman did not know was Viktor was equally involved with Wata-dai's Space and Atmosphere projects, more so the ecology--the terraforming. Mr. Lundgren's self-importance remained tempered. He loved the swift kick of people underestimating his intelligence, will and ability.

Eijima felt his brain activity dwindling to a stagnant low and excused himself from the table with his cocktail whisky. MUSE models engaged the engineers with cultured conversation, entertaining the ideas of trips to Porto Pino or the wine vineyards of Burgundy. They were strategically placed their to enchant, Viktor taught his models impeccably.

Daisuke had mentioned a rumor of Anthony Stark resurrection or return into the public eye and sent him an invitation as a joke and genuine welcome. If it was true it was the first step to encourage a partnership or collaboration of some sort. Neither one of the tech experts experienced the precedent President's Annihilator Suit.

Musing with the panoramic view the city of Stockholm alight at night, Eijima wondered if the Annihilator suit matched his Endymion exo-suit.

QFT.