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| No title. |
| (2014-03-04 - 2014-03-05) |
| No description. |
| Rhiannon Zellen | Shinra's main headquarters has seen better days. A little less than a week ago, the building came under attack from a mysterious white entity. It's target was Rhiannon Zellen, a resident scientist who was at the time, holding a meeting with several individuals. In typical Shinra fashion, no details were released to the public, and everything was written off as an experimental accident. The public was left to go on with their own devices and Shinra went about cleaning up the mess. On this day, that scientist in particular, Rhiannon could be found on her lab on the upper floors. She was rather holed up and far too busy typing some manner of data into a laptop computer on her desk where she was seated. She was fairly certain that no one had any need for her today, and thus, expected no calls from anyone. Especially not the reception desk. What would they need her for anyway? |
| Queegmaa | The chances were, she'd get a call from the reception desk at some point in the early afternoon, informing her that in a few hours, there was to be a diplomat from the nation of Vector who was meaning to treat with her. Thus, a few hours later, as could be predicted, Queegmaa arrived in the waiting area where they had couches and chairs, but he didn't think his cumbersome form would make good for the furnishings, so he decidedly sat upon the floor. Sitting on things that were either crafted from dead mammals, or synthetically designed to emulate dead mammal-textures just wasn't his thing, when given the choice. Que doesn't have much to say to anybody; he's not a socialite, and he's sure that if he really wanted the inside scoop on what happened, he could do some snooping-- but he had more important priorities that didn't pertain to ShinRa, other than the explicit business for which he came! |
| Rhiannon Zellen | She did get the call, and she sighed all for it. "Diplomat from the nation of vector, hm?" She mumbled while her fingers continued to dance over the keyboard, rapidly entering letters and numbers to comprise her notes, theories, and calculations. "Whatever do 'they' want with me?" Indeed, Rhiannon couldn't recall any past encounters with anyone from such a place. Unless this was the higher ups dumping another job on her. They would do that, wouldn't they? "Alas...My life has suddenly become a lot more lively in recent years..." She remembered back when she was just another scientist, able to do her own thing and not worry about attention. Suppose that was the price of curiosity. The woman continued her work until the call came that whoever it was had arrived. "Hrm." Her hands slowing down to a stop, they left the keyboard to rest in her lap. "Save progress. Enter Sleep mode." Uttering that command, she stood, donning her usual white lab coat with gold trim. A digital voice from her laptop replied with a 'Command Acknowledged. Engaging Sleep Mode.' before doing just that. "Now, let us have a look and see just who dares to interrupt my research time..." Stepping out of her lab, past the automatic sliding doors, she headed for the elevator, riding it down to the ground floor and stepping out into the main lobby. With her hands firmly resting in her coat pockets, she looked about for said visitor, her eyes eventually settling on Queegmaa. "....." Another non-human. This one looked remarkably more like a monster than the others she'd come into contact with. But her expression remained fairly neutral, only showing her usual smile. Certain that this was him, Rhiannon moved to approach. "You must be the diplomat I was informed of." She said casually as she slowed to a stop in front of Queegmaa. |
| Queegmaa | Queegmaa's patience didn't have to be tested too thoroughly, because although Rhiannon didn't rush to see him, she did cease her scientific activity in a prompt manner, enough to accelerate her flight to the lobby. If Rhiannon was feeling a little uneasy, then there was a good chance that on his better days, he might've been able to see through her guise of neutrality, but whether her mind was truly 'in the zone', and she was putting on her best mask, or whether Que was distracted, the bottom line was, he didn't pick up on her mild irritation. Nevertheless, would it have made much of a difference? It wasn't like the kappa was one to comfort others in a time of need. When the woman proposes that Que is the the diplomat to whom she was referred, he grunted a little bit, "Depends on wedder yer Rienin or not. I dunno who y'are or whatcha been telled, but if yer her, den yuh might be intristed tuh know dat ya might qualify to get a buncha munny dumped in yer lap." He nods, "I knowed dat nobody anywhere gits tuh spend infintinitely, 'n you signtist folks squander yer budgets pretty d*mn fast." |
| Rhiannon Zellen | Oh dear. Rhia could almost feel her brain cells dying at the sound of his voice and his accent. But she valiantly resisted the urge to roll her eyes and listened. After a few moments, she could ascertain that though his tone and accent left a lot to be desired, what he meant was actually logical. She wondered how well that went over for him in the long run. Nonetheless, she simply continued to smile slightly and nodded. "Indeed, I do happen to be 'Rienin'." Smirking a bit and using his mangled variation of her name, she went on. "While I am not exactly hurting for additional budget at the moment...I suppose I can, at the very least, listen to what it is you require." Turning away, the woman gestured for Queegmaa to follow, heading for the elevator. Those mechanical limbs and such did draw of a sparkle of curiosity in her eyes. But for the moment, she figured it would be best to have some place to talk. "I assume you would rather not expose the details of your visit in the lobby." |
| Queegmaa | Que had a way of mangling the common tongue in such a way that it got under the skin of formal types, but if people were willing to see past his ruggedness, they might sometimes have gotten value from his words, provided that they could even be decoded at all. The fact that she rendered a pleasant smile and a nod hinted to the imp that she was at least somewhat complacent, because if she was smoldering with fury, there would've had to've been at least a twitch here or there as far as the platysma muscle was concerned, even if just on one side. When she claims she isn't destitute, Que remarks, "Yer workin' fer some guy in a suit 'n tie somewhere, suh dat tells me yant quite as rich's ya cud be.... but yeah, I preasheet ya givin' me a chance tuh drow my pitch atcha b'fore being sent on my way!" With that, she indicated for him to follow, which Que did without much hesitation, being that he harbored no trust for the strangers in the lobby. He didn't have much for Rhiannon either, but at least he'd heard her name before, which meant she had to have done something right-- or very wrong. Either way, she accomplished something, and that was good enough for Queegmaa! "Dat makes two fer two on sumin' dings crektly. Ya fihgard dat I was yer vister, and now yer fihgrin dat I's wantin' tuh follow ya 'steada stane here 'n yakking in da lobby 'bout my affairs..... Sounds like ya got a good intooshun." |
| Rhiannon Zellen | "I lose nothing by listening." A simple, to the point statement. Not that she trusted the kappa either, but then, she didn't trust much of anyone. Her's was a solitary life, interrupted only by righteous heroes and the occasional set of orders from above. It was a life she preferred. Getting in and then riding the elevator up the next few floors, she listened to Queegmaa's continued speech. "Well. Business deals are generally private affairs. Soldiers, civilians, and receptionists have no need to hear such talk." Indeed, if she babbled about all of her experiments and affairs in the open, hers would be a short career. The thought drew a chuckle from her. The elevator doors slid open that that point, revealing their destinaton. Without a word, Rhiannon stepped out, knowing Queegmaa would follow. It would seem this floor was spared from the catastrophic attack the other day. That must have been a few floors up. This floor looked to be restricted to officials with business, as no visiting civilians were here, and there were a plethora of closed doors, labeled only with numbers. The odd Shinsec guard could be seen here and there, but no words were exchanged. Eventually, the woman stopped at a door and grabbed the handle, opening it up to reveal a meeting room. A long, rectangular table took up the center with several chairs placed around it. After leading her guest inside, she closed the door and casually took a seat. "Now then. We are away from prying ears and eyes. Shall we begin?" |
| Queegmaa | Not wanting to get into a debate about the necessity of keeping things secret from uninvolved persons like civilians and the like, he saved his breath and silently agreed to her statements. The elevators were far less rustic than the kind in Vector, and made his city look like a one-horse-town, but the kappa was transferring to Mullonde, of all places, so seeing elevators at all was soon to become a rarity. Maybe with luck, he'd be assigned to jobs on the ground floors so that he wouldn't have to climb steps; being a creature that lived in the depths, heights weren't something he liked to deal with, simply because it wasn't natural for him. Upon entering the meeting room, Que immediately does what he did before, and instead of choosing a chair, he seats himself on the floor for his own convenience, however, from where Rhiannon sat, she could probably just barely see the top of his head peeking above the surface of the table, even if they weren't going to be speaking eye to eye. "Sure." The troll waved one arm, "Put it simply, I know dat in da modern age, dey been known tuh clone lungs outta stem cells. I seen it on telveeshun." He then pointed at himself, "A rayle problem widd gettin' transplants 'n organs from udder folks is rejection, 'n I knowed dat ShinRa can clone stuff, which means ya'll cud jus' take some samples from me, whip up a pitri dish full 'o protein, 'n start makin' new bodyparts for me, so dat I dun hafta keep luggin' all this metal 'round da place." Evidently, he didn't mind the rather apparent fact that even if they did clone him new appendages, and muscles, he'd have stitches running all across his body, or maybe he was hoping they could keep the scarring to a minimum. It was questionable what his expectations were as far as how he'd look after the procedure was finished. |
| Rhiannon Zellen | Seeing that Queegmaa chose not to sit. Understandably so, due to his frame, she took a different seat in view of him. Settling down, she crossed her arms and patiently listened, waiting for the details of this interruption to her research. More than money, she hoped it was at least interesting. "Hrm. Stem cells. Yes, that is something that's possible." Of course, to the general public, such a thing was 'still in research'. But to the back end of the scientific sector...Well, let's just say morals ran low back here. "I see...so you want me to take genetic material from you, make cloned organs, and then transplant them back into you." The scientist nodded at that. It was an elementary idea. Not to say it was a bad one. "That is rather simple. It may take some time, but it /is/ possible." One of her hands went to her chin, rubbing it thoughtfully. "My other major projects are on hold for now. So I suppose that I do have time." And she smiled a little at that. "Plus, examining the genetic material of one of your race should prove to be...interesting." And all of that metal. Oh boy, this was going to take some doing. "Is that all you want however?" |
| Queegmaa | The kappa shrugged his head a little as he listened to Rhiannon talk about some of the ins and outs of performing the chore asked of her; her paraphrasing was right on the money, so he had almost no issues with what the scientist had to say until she started to make admission to her curiosity of the nature of his composition. He didn't /exactly/ take issue with what she said, but he did want to clarify a few things so that the woman didn't take too many liberties, "Ah... One more stipyuhlishun, I shud add here, jus' so dat we understand eachodder." He wags his finger warningly, "My genetic fabric is my property, 'n dat ain't fer sale. So study it s'much as ya like while yer workin' on incubatin' my new parts. But when all's said 'n done, ya gotta dump every trace of my material that belongs tuh me, see. 'N dat includes anyding that yuh've modified that has bits o' me in it." He nods, "Yuh can synthesize artificial sh*t all ya want, keep yer written notes all ya want, but my DNA's pretty valleebuhl, cuz us kappa.... well, we live mihleens of years, so we're practically immortal." Que folded his arms over his chest, "I'd like ta keep dat in da bank fer a sunny day, when I'm strapped fer cash......" And being what he was, that definitely meant that a rainy day would have been a blessing. He holds up a finger, "Obviously, my cybernetics need tuh be shipped back tuh Vector when yer all done, too, cuz it's deir's. Yull be reimbursed monterlay for any expenses dat arise during yer ordeal." |
| Rhiannon Zellen | Oh. Well that was a drag. "Yes, yes. Of course. All genetic property belonging to you will be disposed of after everything is said and done." She nodded, leaning an elbow onto the chair's arm rest and her palm in her cheek. There was an amused smile on her face all the same regardless. She mst have had some idea as to how to circumvent that stipulation somehow. "Practically immortal? How fascinating." Her eyes lit up with interest once again at that, but she said nothing more on the matter. "Yes, yes, your cybernetics will be returned to Vector at the soonest possible convenience." A nod. At a glance, she was certain that the technology wasn't ahead of Shinra's, but it looked like it may have contained other interesting functions. She'd have to find time to study them at some point. "Now then, how soon do you want to proceed with this plan? I can begin any day now myself." |
| Queegmaa | Queegmaa had covered his tracks for the most part, save for the fact that anytime he stepped outside his home, if he happened to come into contact with an object, cells would rub off. They'd soon deteriorate, being bio-degradable, and susceptible to ravenous bacteria, but an extremely desperate individual who was able to follow Que and wait until he touched something /might/ have been able to collect a sample if they sterilized it quickly enough. At present, since so much of his physical contact with the world revolved around his prosthetic limbs propelling him to and fro meant that he'd have to bump his head against a wall or a tree..... Even so, /after/ he was once more made purely of flesh, it would be harder to avoid the unintentional discarding of organic matter, unless he wore a burque; not being a Muslim at the moment, this would've been unlikely. Timing would be critical, and nothing was impossible, but probability being what it was, it would've taken an extreme effort to 'steal' his bio-matter. As far as mentioning what attributes he had that were advantageous, Que deliberately neglected to inform her that kappa had a slew of other nice boons, since this was not the time to go bragging about his superior qualities..... fact of the matter was, he only brought up the importance of the nigh-immortality due to feeling it was courteous to explain at least one reason why he believed his stake was significant, and something that he'd avenge if transgressed upon. Everything else seemed in order, on the other hand, which was promising. When she inquires about how to commence, Queegmaa replies,"The sooner da better. My bennifacdur will be sure ta negoshate prices with you.... but jus' off da top o' yer head, whaddya esteemate this'd cost? I have a certain budget that I've been given, 'n if what you ask goes 'bove dat, I'll have to talk to my backer b'fore we can start. If it's widdin da range, or jus' remotely beyon' it, we ken start now 'n haggle later on." |
| Rhiannon Zellen | "Hmmm...pricing..." Rhiannon leaned back in her seat then, pondering the estimate. Working through the cost of time, use of resources, and other factors, plus exceptions, if there were any to be made. She took a few moments to figure out a total before eventually coming to a conclusion. "Well, based on my calculations, I would say that a project of that magnitude would cost anywhere in the ballpark of twenty to thirty thousand gil." A strong number. "But, since I currently am not hurting for additional budget, as I had said earlier, I am willing to keep the price down to the minimum." Her smile remained as she spoke. "Being able to study your genes is enough to make up for the difference." |
| Queegmaa | Queegmaa patiently waited to see what her price would be, and once he received the number-- twenty to thirty thousand gil/munny, he was astonished, and thus immediately suspicious. It wasn't as cheap as getting a tune-up, but for what he was asking, she was really shaving down the cost, which made the kappa wonder if there was something going on that he had to worry about. He doesn't profess the total he'd been afforded for the undertaking by Rakassa, but it was substantially higher than what Rhiannon was being uncommongly charitable about entreating. Then came the reason; she was feeling generous because she was going to examine his molecular motif with extreme prejudice. This lead Que to have second thoughts about the arrangement, simply because as a demon with peerless command over the element of water, besides having the 'potential' to regenerate limbs automatically(which skipped his generation), and having enhanced strength, which was highlighted in the majority of mythos orbiting kappa, Rhiannon could hypothetically create a walking disaster, especially if the scientist saw fit to fuse his bio-chemical makeup with something else that was already formidable. There was never a guarantee that his DNA would be very compatible with other mutations, but that didn't mean it was unquestionably beyond the realm of possibility. Needless to say, Que didn't want his own body to be the instrument by which something could be constructed that would render he himself obsolete, thereby invalidating him. Earnestly, in defiance of these concerns, Queegmaa knew that very few people had the know-how to really regrow his own bodyparts so that they could be properly re-attached, effectively putting him in a bind; disobey Rakassa, or risk shooting himself in the foot some far time in future by being betrayed by his very own physiological matrix? Contradicting Rakassa's decree would provoke immediate penalties, but at least the alternative might be avoidable, if he took the right measures to maintain exclusive access to his own body. During the whole time all these ruminations circulated through his mind, he was silently staring at Rhiannon with a vacant expression, as though dead to the world, until he finally mumbled in a barely audible voice, "Agreed." |
| Rhiannon Zellen | Rhia sat back and simply waited. Once his response finally came, she nodded and stood from her chair, pushing it back into place. "Good." She moved past Queegmaa and to the door, opening it. "Glad to have that settled then. Now, why don't we get started? Let us head to my lab and begin the extraction process." The smile on her face seemed to suggest that she was going to have fun with this one way or the other. How scary. But a deal was a deal, there was no backing out now. |
| Queegmaa | Que rubbed his chin thoughtfully and remarked, "Dere.... is a way you cud convince me to give ya all da rights and liberties to my genetic material." He smirks, "Dere's somebody who disrespected me recently, n' when I tried tuh hold 'er accountable, she pulled a rabbit outta a hat, 'n got weaseled outta da consequences....." He folds his arms over his chest, "Took 'er ta trial, but after da judge convicted 'er, she pulled out a pardon, 'n got off scott-free." His brows furrow as his apparent anger increases, just at the recollection of it all, "She acted like I was benead her, like she was some kinda classy gal who was too gud fer my offer, 'n den violently hurled me outta her home after dreatening me!" He growls, "I wanna ruin her. I wanna sow resen'ment into 'er heart permanently, so that some part 'o her always feels bitter! I wan'er ta see dat she ain't outta my reach, 'n she ain't better dan me, 'n dat I can bring her low." Queegmaa turns to Rhiannon, "You e'er heard 'o a dark-skinned gal named Moreegin Lassnee?" |
| Rhiannon Zellen | "Hah?" This one was the paranoid sort, wasn't he? Rhiannon found it amusing, yet also boring. But then, it's not like she had any reason to outright say no. And so she nodded, not leaving the room just yet, but her hand on the door knob of the slightly open door. "I believe we already established that when you said that your genetic material was your property, did we not?" Shutting the door then, she turned around to listen as Queegmaa spoke on. Something about a dark skinned woman. Hrm. That was vaguely familiar. Vaguely. Deciphering the mangled name, she thought for a moment. "Morrighan Alazne? Hrm, that is not a name that has shown up much recently." Indeed, the elf had gone quiet after her pardon at the trial, wanting nothing more than for people to leave her alone and let her live her life in peace. "But that does sound accurate to reports I've read of her tendencies." The scientist paused then, arching a brow. "My. That must have been real embarrassing if you want to see her ruined so badly." Rhia commented casually, smirking in the process. |
| Queegmaa | Queegmaa was /definitely/ the paranoid sort-- Rhiannon had pegged him rather well. Then again, she too must've been apprehensive towards most, and looking over her shoulder now and again, when considering how many enemies she had lurking around who not only wanted to dispose of her, but undo her work! All the same, the kappa goes right into his spiel, "Moreegin dreatened ta hurt me af'er stickin' a gun in my face, then vi'lently heaved me outta 'er house ontuh da hard stoney ground. She 'cused me of stuff she'd no proof of, as justeeyihfication for doin' what she did, when I'd simply entered 'er house under a truce. She din know 'ow much 'volvement I had in da slightest, seein' dat I cudda jus' been some eavedropper oo overheard whatever it was she dinks I had a role in happenin' to 'er. But she tuhk da law into 'er own hands, and decided to 'minister justice den and dere, wedder or not da punishment far outweighed da crime, if dere even /was/ a crime!" He huffs, with his face a bit darker from all the blood flowing to his head, trying not to explode and make a fool of himself. After all.... Morrighan was not actually in the room, so it didn't make sense to vent at Rhiannon, unless, of course, he had pent up frustrations that he was letting out, even if they weren't directed at the scientist! The troll raises his finger, "Lemme give ya an analogy here ta illustrate what my way of doin' dings is....." he paused, and clenched his fist to emphasize the feeling behind his words that he spoke, "Let's say a woman only so much as spekuhlates I stole from 'er, so she decides ta call me a foul name, and then goes 'n she spits on me. Well lemme tell ya, she done crossed da line from accusations ta penalizations when 'er saliva makes contact wi' me, 'n 'er jaw is gun be torn off.... 'n if she bleeds ta death, it's 'er own d*mn fault fer not gittin' 'erself to a hospital!" This must have clued Rhiannon to the fact that he was not very merciful. Rhiannon was undoubtedly cut from the same cloth, in that respect, or in proximity, for, with all the atrocities she'd committed, could one really place much faith in the notion that she had charity in her heart? "Vengeance will be mine. I'mma turn 'er into a black-hearted b*tch who'll always 'ave a chip on 'er shoulder, who'll always be doubtful about e'erybody's intentions. She'll live a life of begrudgement, victimization, pain, and ne'er forgive anybody. Her wounds will ne'er heal, and she'll feel weighed down the rest of her days." Que smirked, and raised both arms exclamatorily, as he began to describe his scheme to retaliate, "I'm wanna use 'er bawduh agin' 'er will, but see... here's the ultimate indeenigitea to't all; I ain't gon move a single muscle. Her bahtay's gonna be manipulated like bein' pullt by stranz, but 'er min'll be conscious every moment while she's 'top, as I sit dere tolly innocent of anyding. Now.... Biological manipulation is your forte, ain't it, doc? I happen ta've some of Mor's marrow, 'n blood samples; I gadder dat you ken mix up some kinda tonic dat'll allow 'er tuh be controlt wid some kinda bio-electrical device while she's full o' dem influential chemicals. Magic 'n science are truly wonderful dings, eh?" Well.... if he respects science, maybe Rhiannon had to hold out some respect for the guy? |
| Rhiannon Zellen | ".........." Well, this took a sudden turn. Rhia's respect for the man and his intentions...well, they weren't raising. But they didn't fall either. Not that there was anywhere for them to fall to. She didn't think much of it, or him, in the first place. This was a job. But logically speaking, that /was/ rather drastic. She kept quiet, a hand coming to her chin, and rubbing thoughtfully for a while. "Well, far be it for me to question the motivations of others." Indeed, she had her own demons. And now her own personal executioners, just waiting for the perfect oppertunity to strike. One could almost say that being with child was a shield in this case. Though that would not last forever. "While I am capable of such a thing, you should know that my generosity does not extend to it." Crossing her arms again, and leaning against the door, the woman went on. "If you want to commission this device from me, that is a seperate case with a separate cost. A similar cost." She smiled pleasantly, despite what was being discussed here. She truly had no scruples, did she? "Can you afford stem cell organ generation, transplants, in addition to this device engineered for your...vengeance?" |
| Queegmaa | Queegmaa was an individual who thrived on anger, and retribution.... it was his calling. He had no way to live life if he didn't have a way of driving forward, finding enemies to thwart, to dissuade him from becoming stagnant. Everyone had their ambitions, and the troll's was simply to get back at everything, and everyone in the world, no matter who they were, it was simply a matter of prioritizing, for the time being; he felt that some deserved his attention more than others! "Well ya dun have ta be jenris tuh help me construct dis ding, 'n ya dun have tuh agree with my reasons, eeder.... Jus' wan'ed tuh give ya a lil background on why dis is important tah me, cuz dat way you know fer sure dat it ain't somedin I plan ta try 'n turn aroun' 'n use on you or the ShinRa, someday." That must have been a tiny consolation, but then he proceeds to answer her other queries, "Fact is.... I can definitely pay fer da transplants and stem cell stuff. Dat's easy. Chances are, I ken also pay fer da udder stuff, aldough it'll come outta my own pocket, cuz I dun dink my benefactor is intristed in my vendettas." He shrugs, thinking this to be a realistic, and therefore satisfactory answer. |