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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 11, 2010 9:30:12 GMT -5
Separate from the Research Division, this area of the HQ is for the more celular level based skirmishes. It's where B.O.W.s are grown before being moved to the Research Division; huge, water filled tubes contain earie growths which are soon to become some method of Bio-Logical weapon. Plus viral research is also put into effect, from T-Virus to Las Plagas parasites. Much like the Research Division, the place is quarantined fairly well and is flooded in any sign of an outbreak.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Mar 14, 2010 21:36:29 GMT -5
The Arrival
The Living Quarters
The brisk cool climate of the room was euphoric to the sensory glands of Mr. Marlboro as he strolled slowly through the conjoining hallways that littered the private quarters section. His fingers trailed the lining of his silk jacket with minor rotations as if he was twisting the fabric itself in his mind. The small pit-pat click of his soles against the marble floor continued to keep his mind in the blissful trance. A nudge to his goatee with his right hand permitted his fingers to extend and rub the said area with slow stroking motions. This kept up as he continued his walk through the highly decorated halls. His eyes veered to his wrist… Then he stopped and stared as his watch chimed a most familiar tune. His eyes would light up like dim flamed candle wick catching a mild breeze.
His motion changed from a carefree stroll to a decisive strut, his momentum picking up as he rounded the corridors to the nearest transport terminal. Clicking the key code to the terminal cause a pod to open in the next few steps. Stepping through sliding doors and waiting for them to close with a soft click behind him. The pod hummed softly as it moved into a opposite direction. The feel of the area seemed like it was moving slowly but the truth was that its speed was nearly blinding. Once a man was killed by a malfunctioning door, his insides were spread across the floor from the pressure of the outside force. Marlboro knew better then that, though. He had just had repairs issued to them a day ago.
Just Inside Non-Restricted Laboritories
When the pod stopped he stepped outside, then breathed in deeply. The area had soon become a hustle and bustle of white lab coat wearing people stammering around with scientific tools, clipboards, and the like. It was a new day at the Tricell Home Laboratories where a new set of idiots were bringing in a most peculiar species ransacked from somewhere in the Americas. Massive tanks lined the far back hallways of the labs where workmen were moving tubes and canisters hastily as if they knew of his arrival in the facility already. Marlboro would sport a sarcastic smirk across his face as he made his approach to the foremen… apparently at least, due to the clipboard held tightly in his hand.
“ You are late with this shipment, do you realize how this can hold our time up? I did not even get a status report on what the cargo was… Do you understand that nothing can be out of place? This kind of behavior is not to be tolerated…” Mr. Marlboro barked in a raspy tone, the spire in his eyes showed that of a wolf eyeing its prey, “ Speak for your actions.”
The man stammered, his clipboard falling to the ground. He nervously bent down to pick it up… but before anything was said, Mr. Marlboro stared. The man reassumed his positioning, then spoke. Mr. Marlboro noted that this man was a large man, in the sense of obesity… clearly the type that has no sense of self-care or feeling of confidence… He might have weighed bout 289 and stood at 5’7... No tone features at all… Unibrow
“ We did not understand why we were to do this shipment so quickly, the orders were to meet some men. Who clearly looked like criminals… to acquire canisters of god know what. I think I speak for my men when I say that we wish to know what we are hauling.” The man showed some courage, Mr. Marlboro noted that in the mans determination to get his point across.
“ You have no need to know. But, rest assured that you were most likely chosen to transport this for a reason. Your men our fine, am I correct?” Mr. Marlboro sneered his nostrils flared slightly as the end of his sentence rolled off his lips.
The man nodded, motioning to Mr. Marlboro, “ Yes, we were fine. But, one of my men has reason to believe that these canisters are ’Alive’. I mean, I know that we’ve moved people here. And, quite frankly that is none of my business why you use human test subjects for viral cures. But, this stuff is a little more… creepy.”
Mr. Marlboro’s eyes lit up slightly as he dropped his gaze to the ground, then slowly brought it back to eye level. With his left hand he moved it to a clasp on his right wrist. A very cold calculated question coming from his throat, “ Are you men through?”
Then mans eyes showed a feeling as if something was to happen to him. It was always amusing how they knew when their time was up. Then man reached for a pistol that he must have always kept in the empty holster on his side. But, to Mr. Marlboro’s amusement, weapons check had already confiscated it…
“ Sir… May I ask you why you reached for your weapon?” Mr. Marlboro chuckled with a almost mocking notion. He made a couple steps toward the man then stopped. “ This is a ’Family’ company… Mr…. Oh, I did not catch your name, did I?”
“Bernstein, George Bernstein.” The man struggled to speak without raising his voice.
Mr. Marlboro turned his back on the man, then took a few steps away to the right as a small laser pointer moved across the floor chasing the Shipment Officers body all the way up to between his eyes. The metallic clicking sounds chimed off as each passage door was locking one after another. Mr. Marlboro gleamed with what was about to unfold, the Shipment Officer went to move as a muffled ping sounded off from the distant rafter. A gaping hole appearing where the mans eyes use to separate. With a jolting motion, blood splattered across the ground as the limp body fell to the ground with fluid grace.
Not even two seconds after the shot, the sounds of other pings began going off in separate locked corridors. The sounds were a omen that the entire delivery crew was now dead. Mr. Marlboro was ecstatic that his distress beacon on his clasp did not malfunction like the day with that reporter who stumbled in. He hates using his own gun, but from time to time you do what you must. And a messy situation may cause his suit to get stained, heads roll when that happens…
He noticed a man walking from the corner of the hallway with transportation slab being towed behind him, obviously the clean up crew was arriving. Waiting for the doors to click open and adjusting his collar. Mr. Marlboro would proceed to find means of finding out what was transported. And by who’s orders other than his own.
He would speak into his watch as a chime occurred, “ Get R and D down here to move these canisters to the Safe Zone A S A P. We cannot afford a unknown substance to contaminate the labs. I want a full status report of what it is and what it does. If anything goes wrong I will personally make sure that your skull will be used as a paperweight.”
Sub-Office Laboritories - Marlboro Office
He smirked for a mere second, then his gaze shifted to one of his own Sub-Offices in the Laboratories West-Wing. Moving inside he situated himself behind his desk and attempted to contact a Superior through the auto-teller beacon. Then he breathed in deeply as if the weight of the world was to be placed on his shoulders. Like a child awaiting approval. He would need to discuss the next movement with a officer.
The situation at hand is his next move to get some support or new information in his database files. The process usually is a discussion which prompty ends with infromation being exchanged and de-coded with his own 38 digit action sequencer that mixes every 5 minutes. Once the code is broken it is then transfered to Tricell grammar coding that only few high ranking people with the organization know to keep it secret. This infromation can only be obtained through interogation, while many of the carriers would rather die than release it.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 14, 2010 22:46:20 GMT -5
<Tyler Landon, you have Mr. Malboro on line 9 in your office. Tyler Landon.>
Landon looked up from his work bench looking up to the ceiling as if addressing the PA system itself, eyes darting a little showing concentration on taking in everything that had been said. He threw the tweezers he held to the desk, taking the microscope headset off and pushing his glasses on. Landon never enjoyed being pulled away from his work, it happened far too often even though he made it a rule not to be disturbed; the difference with this though was the call was coming through on line 9, that meant it was a clean line. Ignoring a call like that was the same as ignoring your own infant child. Landon flicked his white lab coat and threw it on, walking off with his hands clasped behind his back letting the tail of the coat wave with each step.
The other annoyance was the incoming call came from Malboro's office; now Landon had met an agreement with the rest of the high up Tricell staff that Malboro was a perfect addition to the Corporation and would add to it, his means were extreme but the worked. Landon never enjoyed the mans personality too much though, and sometimes his methods were a little -- with the crime scene inside the the non-restricted laboratories coming into view -- too extreme. Landon stopped to look around, smacked his lips once, "Sew why de bloody 'ell 'asn't anyone cleaned this crap up yit?" his thick South African accent spilled out, it was always so unique that it got peoples attention.
"The cleanup crew's taking care of--"
"Sew bloody wot! You kin 'elp get this freakin' body off of my lab floor and then scrub the panelling... Jesus, bliksim," he stepped over the dead mans body and passed through the clear paned corridors of the labs, glass but reinforced beyond belief. Landon pushed open the door to his own office, let it close itself and flicked the switch for the glass panels to fade to black. Landon sat down in his chair, punched the receive button for the call, "Landin speaking..."
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Mar 14, 2010 23:22:11 GMT -5
Mr. Marlboro sat at attention with the alert button clicking into play and his mentor, thick South African speaking Landon’s voice poured over his ears. His eyes glistened, then faded as quickly as the twinkle began. This was business… they should know the drill by now. His hand reached for the switch to change the setting from common to distorted. His voice appeared to be a deeper less human sounding translation of himself. He was a very calculated informant… and his calculation has gotten him as far as he is now. With another simple gesture to the switch-board the line was locked and scrambled.
“ Sir, I regret to inform you that the problem we foresaw handled a little… dramatic… cause. You see… The transporter became too suspicious of our activities… Even reached for a pistol he had not had in his possession… Ha ha ha ha…” the laugh came through more distorted that the rest a deep cackle after each pausing mock of the dead man,” But… the loose ends have been tied up… As I received word just before you called in… that the crew was still bolstering one can on board the vessel. I noticed that one was missing as I walked up…”
Mr. Marlboro shifted through two documents on his desk, then spoke again. Noticing aerial photos of the transportation ship with the crew members separating one canister from the other. With a man on a satellite phone standing near a Hub-Door, perhaps trying to get a better signal. He would have served better knowing that there was a pirate signal going off all over that area just for that reason. Tricell foresaw this betrayal. Even if the
“ Seems that the vessel was transmitting information to a undisclosed location two days ago. Perhaps to set up a perimeter to trade or turn over solid evidence. I have three agents in-route there right now. If they needed evidence to try and burn our paws… they don’t have it… Or their lives for that matter. Ha ha. But I carry on for minor things… If anything occurs… I will see to it personally that negotiations and bribes are met firmly. Or… the murders are discreet… You are most aware of my methods, Sir.”
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 14, 2010 23:53:58 GMT -5
Landon pushed his glasses up his forehead and rubbed his eyes, "Flippin'..." he stopped before he went into a string of curse words looking out of his office window at the deepside water wall, cut into the rock, "Probably some bloody activists or somethin' oo thinks they can get cack their way..." he took a deep breath, "Yeah nah probably best to keep it simple, give'em what they want. Obviously if they want something of value then their own bloody shoes aren't their own weight in gold. If they want too much they can have themselves shot..."
He stood up, thankfully with a cordless phone (Most of the others were wired in the labs for scientists to stick to one spot), pushed his glasses up his nose, "Might aswell keep this as quiet as possible... we'll offer'em money, land, an opportunity to retire early," that kind of thing you didn't pass up unless you were of the highest caliber of baring a conciousness, "Most importantly we can't have these guys goin' all herow and causing an outbreak with our own material,"
The scientist marched over to the other end of his office, stabbed a couple of buttons on an LCD monitor and watched what had been brought in with the transport. It hadn't been shifted yet, probably still going through all of its mandatory checks and such to head through to the inner labs, "Any idea wot was brought in? Material 'o that caliber doesn't generally come through this way, most of the time it heads over to Research and they deem whether or not its worth the Labs,"
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Mar 15, 2010 0:11:46 GMT -5
Mr. Marlboro shifted a couple of the files out of the way through his PDA, then turned to a sealed file… Pressing his authorization keys in. A series of red labeled files started pouring in. For the untrained eye this would take a lifetime to find. The majority of them were utterly useless files ranging from modern medicine to news tabloids, but one file stood out among the rest to Marlboro’s trained eye. The file was coded with distinct characters used by Tricell operatives to hide important information from prying eyes in case of emergency. With a few quick strokes of the touch-pad the information pouring through his eyes like water gushing through a heavy stream. His eyes would light up like a child’s eyes on Christmas Morning.
“ Amazing…”
With a small pause behind the last phrase he then spoke with a more mature nature.
“ We were lucky not to lose this. I will see to it that R and D lock this bug down tight. Information of this last transmission was stored. The people involved with selling it to us are technically our men… no trouble there. But, I am sending the information via PDA now. Incription will be transferred to your Authorization sequence, enjoy sir.”
( Refer to Feeder)
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 15, 2010 1:52:05 GMT -5
Landon stood up and crossed the room to his coat hanger, the only two whiched lived there being his lab coat and business coat. He pulled his PDA out of his business coat, ironically he had two and they both had their own uses for said coats; Business, and Science. He thumbed about the thing wedging his office phone between his shoulder and head, pulled the stylus out from the back of the PDA and started tapping through all of the desktop and menu. There were several received messages but it was the one from Malboro that he was interested in, typing in his WPA code and opening the file. He read it at his own speed before he became interested and slowed down to take information in more carefully.
"I'll be," Landon mumbled, phone back in left hand and PDA held in the right; he scrolled through the file with his thumb, "This is deeply interesting, I remember hearing about this 'bout five months back from our sources but heard it'd disappeared," Landon looked about the room, suddenly wanted a piece of the specimen to work on.
The scientist crossed the room and woke up his terminal, plugging the PDA in and uploading the information from it looking at some of the washed out images. He wanted to see it for what it was. "Get the boys at R&D to take it to level 5. That's the jettison cage. I'll get Madison to crack it open and take a look," Landon snapped out the PDA once it was complete and took it back over to his business coat, dropping it in the pocket then started to return to his desk, "You can head out there now if you want to oversee it," and with that he placed the phone back on its hook, engrossed in the file infront of him.
Some of the stuff they were lucky to find always blew him away.
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Post by RabidMaggot93 on Mar 16, 2010 11:11:24 GMT -5
Francis casually cracked open his PDA, smiling. He'd heard somethin about a new shipment and was very curious as to what it was.
"Impressive." He chuckled, pocketing the PDA he swiftly gained his feet and strode down the hallways, eyes alight with joy at the prospect of something new. He growled in annoyance as he found the Elevevator out of service. The Irony was not lost on him as he strode back to his office and punched in his PDA for Mr Marlboro.
"Patch me through to Mr Marlboro" He spoke calmly.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Mar 18, 2010 21:10:55 GMT -5
Mr. Marlboro was able to tell that Ladon was most deeply interested in what his recovery team had found and even managed to snuff out a few traitors in the process. Another day at the office it would seem, death and money to be made… could not get much better. But, maybe he was speaking to soon. The canisters contained a highly unstable genetic structure that Tricell had eyed from across a vast void, but never actually got its hands on before. This may be a revolutionary discovery… a paramount to climb and conquer… But for some reason Mr. Marlboro believed there was much more to be done… Much more at stake than just grasping the containers and specimens all in one go without a means of dispute… Or worse… Without some idiot dying in the process. But, what is done is done. He would just have the grounds keepers clean more blood off the floor. Not really that big of a deal in the long run. Hell, might even be quite a show.
He quickly rose from his desk, then typed in a few digits as the line connected to R and D where the canisters were currently stored at his orders. Then with the click of his index finger mashing against the button, Shelly Georgia’s angelic voice rang over the line.
“ Yes sir?”
Mr. Marlboro smirked, even thought Shelly could not see it… He then followed with hallow orders… His voice was trailing of in a monotone state. Creepy yet demanding “ You had your men move those canisters correct?”
“ Yes sir.” Shelly replied with determination. Mr. Marlboro had always loved her eagerness to please her officers. “ My mean are now at your disposal.”
“ Well…” Mr. Marlboro trailed off again, then concluded with, “ Tell your men to get those canisters to level 5. Remember to keep those things sealed shut until Madison can be involved. This is not only my order… You would do well to heed my words. When the canisters are set in level 5... Vacate immediately. That is all.”
The line was immediately cut after his brief pause due to the fact that she would follow the order without question. People like that were hard to find these days. Even with the immediate arrival of the unknown substance being top priority, he had the strange feeling that someone would somehow seem to ruin his fairly decent day… Then…
A beep came through on his PDA… he notion before clicking it on… mumbling “ Arghh… are you serious?”
The line showed that it was coming from a most… obsessed Tech. He hated these types… psychopathic people with education that only worked for ‘Bettering The Field of Science..’… He worked solely for the fact that if he was not the one shouting… nothing would fall in line… But that was not the issue at the moment…
He flipped the PDA into radio transmission form and then spoke with his expression bleak for the receiver receiving the image… The look could kill a old man into a stroke with no problem, and strike fear into the hearts of all that witnessed it. Truly aggravated…
“ This is Marlboro, what do you want? Have you received the lectern yet? I mean seriously, what do they pay you people for?” He snorted, his eyes then flaring up with amusement, “ Let me guess… You need a briefing file, don’t you?”
He clearly was showing that he did not wish to be bothered with small talk at this point or any point for that matter. If the man had immediate business to amuse Marlboro, that was fine. The thought of chit-chatting like primary school girls did not click with Mr. Marlboro, he was business to a fault… His work was his persona and anyone who knew him understood that without question or hesitation. If you moved into his sights you had better have a darn good reason for bothering him. If you had not had a ’good’ reason to bother him you would be immediately called out for it.
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Post by RabidMaggot93 on Mar 22, 2010 10:44:52 GMT -5
Francis chuckled slightly, and supressed a snort.
"You are correct." Francis nodded softly, before sighing slightly.
"I assume this new shipment is a B.O.W due to the high level of intrest in it and i'd like to confirm that i will have it shipped to my department ASAP?"
"If i recall Mr Marlbro, i was infact overlooked and the previous B.O.W was shipped without combat testing of any sort, and i was apparently to blame. I would just like to make sure this does not happen again, and certainly i doubt Tricell would be happy shipping untested B.O.W's to clients."
He mentally sighed. He was being pushy, yes, but he was excitable about this sort of thing. Not to mention he did not like screw-ups with his department. Nor did he like being treated like an ant when without him, Tricell would have no usuable B.O.W data.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Mar 25, 2010 20:22:22 GMT -5
Mr. Marlboro tapped his left hands fingers in a impatient impulse… Then smirked almost insultingly at the B.O.W. Researcher that seemed to prove nothing more than a thorn in his side. His grin widened with the sheer thought of plucking his eyes out and implanting them in a mannequin. The thought then faded almost instantly as the words “ I was in fact over looked…” slipped from the worms mouth with such grace. ’Over-looked’… How is someone overlooked in such a tight-nit environment… That would be more impossible to fathom of Marlboro did not recall the Termination of a Secretary a few weeks back… The demand for test subjects were high that week anyhow… And no one would miss the worthless, defiant piece of trash anyhow. Mr. Marlboro would respond with a laughable comeback…
“ My friend, you have much to be appreciated for in your more than rapid skill at Bio Weapons grade technologies here at Tricell. We would not want to ’upset’ you in any possible way. We have no combat testing other than a confirmed 4 deaths where skin was ’consumed’ along with other organs and tissue. All that remained with Skeletal Fragments partially… or seemingly… digested as well. This is just a little that I have read of the file… no solid proof that it could be used as a Tricell B.O.W. at all… That ’IS’ your job and you ’WILL’ find out what it can do. I will meet you in R and D personally.”
Mr. Marlboro waited for the man to respond. As he made his way to head to R and D.
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Post by RabidMaggot93 on Mar 26, 2010 8:53:21 GMT -5
Francis supressed a growl at the mans obvious sarcasm. Biting his lip he responded.
"Ofcourse, thankyou." He replied and put the pad down, ending the call as he slammed his fist down onto the wood, growling. He hated the higher-ups, and more than that he hated being treated like some two-bit researcher, fresh-faced from College. No, he was more than anyone else in his field.
Casually moving his hair behind his ear he adjusted his coat - so his weapons would not be seen - and waited for the man to arrive. While he did so he made them both a drink - out of courtesy more than anything else.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Mar 26, 2010 21:59:58 GMT -5
Mr. Marlboro moved gently through the corresponding halls, the offices would line the outside layers of the Laboratory’s main grounds. Each one of the said offices were just hub spaces for different divisions to hold a small office much like Mr. Marlboro’s office in the North Wing of the same complex. Inside they would keep small refrigerators, desk-space, communications devices, and some even came equip with micr-storage containers for those of ’Business’ tastes. The door themselves were fade-away paneling of glass that could turn solid-void black when privacy was needed, a feature Mr. Marlboro loved the most. Etchings of the names were sacronized with Red flickering lights and a Tricell logo placed ever so modestly beside each of them… a sign of Ownership he presumed.
“ Test Subject 2217b is ready in the Bio-Holding Sequencer… The R and D division has claimed that it is not of weapons grade yet…” a older woman in a lab coat spoke to one of the other scientist as Mr. Marlboro strolled by, his eyes glancing sharply for a moment, then quickly losing interest as he approached his target office.
Francis Larr, Research and Development Green Division
Standing at the sliding glass door he noticed the “Doctor” on the other side, casually picking up drinks that he would assume the man had prepared for his arrival. This was indeed acceptable, but due to the fact that business came before consumption of random liquids… He would be deathly subjected to refuse when offered them. His eyes showed enthusiasm to be face to face with one of the select few that were chosen to tamper with the “TOY” that Mr. Marlboro had arranged to be collected. Nothing would satisfy him more to find out what this miraculous enigma held. Then… from the look of Larr, he could tell that the man was as eager as he was.
Mr. Marlboro approaches the man after a brisk walk through the sliding glass door, which clicked gently behind him after his last step. He stopped to take a slight, acknowledging bow to one of the Researchers that have been assigned to the “New Project.” His face was obviously full of complete over-joy… and due to the complete lack of respect shown earlier… this would confuse those not familiar with his tactics.
“ Francis Larr, I am afraid that we have had much confusion. I am quite a fan of your ’Work’… You would need to excuse me for my previous vocal abuse… You see… These people have been driving me insane with their lack of dedication. And… let’s face it… The Heads… Including Landon… Have been most displeased with such ignorance. I am here to personally see that this project is “Tricell” Material.”
His eyes twinkled a bit, and his smile gleamed off his crisp lips like the gleam of a polished silver dagger. He actually seemed amused to be in Larr’s presence. The fact that he was just a couple days away from tampering with the “New Project” may have had something to do with his mood as well.
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Post by RabidMaggot93 on Mar 27, 2010 5:21:55 GMT -5
Francis knew Mr Malboro's game - he'd had prior dealings before - but didn't wish to let on. Instead he nodded warmly and offered a seat and a drink before taking the seat of his own, waving it off
"Think nothing of it Mr Marlboro, i understand how the lower-downs can be." He nodded softly, chuckling "And higher ups."
He paused, thinking.
"I understand that this creature was not purpose built and is quite rare - i am informed this is the only known one alive today - and if at all possible i will make sure to produce several more specimins. It will not be hard to replecate its enviroment, sureley."
He paused again, running a hand through his long white hair.
"I also understand that it is not yet of Weapons-Grade, which i can assure you will change." He smiled softly but like Mr Malboro it was much a false smile.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Mar 29, 2010 0:27:27 GMT -5
Mr. Marlboro flashes a quick grin, before returning to a more cold demeanor as his eyes stared darts in the man for only a mere second. He had previously motioned his hand to direct the drink away, business before pleasure as they say. But, the moment the man showed a minor case of distaste he felt as if he wanted to strangle him. That would not be the case this time, as he had no one else to turn to at the moment. His attitude was basically the same as before, with only a more subtle sense of sarcasm building with each well placed snip… This was just Mr. Marlboro’s psyche, not the he actually was singling the man out. He detested most people for less… Right now he just had to get through a project with this guy.
“ The ’Higher-Ups keep you alive, Larrs… You would do well to hold your tongue when speaking in such a manner… I will act as if I did not hear that so you may in fact keep your organs intact with the rest of your body. Heh Heh… I for one would hate to have such a noble cause be wasted by such… lack of character… Oh what a endeavor that would be… tsk… tsk…”
The faint noise of the next questions brought Mr. Marlboro to ask himself why Tricell hired on such lunatics. People playing God have always been around. But these people were complete basket cases at certainj points of time. They would create, he would have to destroy… or give the order to destroy… or explain why it destroyed… or whatever came into play. The fact that these people had so much dedication to creating things of destruction… inhuman things of destruction, bewildered him. Although, recently he had been feeling that it had a purpose in the end. He did not question that purpose at all.
“ Yes, the Council wishes for that particular specimen to be tested with Human subjects in a controlled environment first. Do you have any idea how to remove a specimen that unstable without knowing what the trigger point of it is.?“ Mr. Marlboro smiled almost childishly as he stared at Larrs, waiting for his reply. Hoping that the man would know more about these things than he did. Marlboro did not have a lot of hands on work in this department… and for some odd reason Landon wanted him here to oversee that it went Smoothly…
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