04-30-2015, 08:18 PM
The season was almost upon them.
All that remained was to ink a few additional contracts before they could start launching the Dataverse and local networking adverts.
And for that purpose, Karl had made sure to set up his office extra pretty to ensure that his more elite prospects felt comfortable as they signed their forms. As he adjusted his seat and neatened up the stack of papers, Karl heard a gentle series of knocks at his door before his intern popped her head through the open doorway.
“Your twelve o’clock is here, Mr. Jak,” the girl whispered. She was a nice worker, but she was terrible sheepish—to the point where he sometimes wanted to yell at her to be more extroverted. How could you hope to survive in this industry when you had problems looking a famous person in the face?
“Send her in, Carmen,” Karl replied as he found his nice pen and watched as the blonde woman with the robotic parts strode into his office.
“Is this really necessary?” The woman asked before taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “You already have my signatures for all those little videos in your library, Karl. Do I really need to sign more contracts?”
“These are different papers, Eighteen. They are just to confirm that you’ll be participating, so the company has free license to incorporate you into advertising packages. I mean, you’re a former Grand Champion, so you can imagine that we’d all love to be a little more visible with your presence. Plus there’s that whole plot where you were imprisoned by one of the desert’s many tyrants. Do you realize how great a story that is? A former champion reduced to slavery who makes another stab at grandeur? The people are going to eat that up and scream for seconds. I don’t know how long you’ve been removed from our home, but angst-riddled and emotionally conflicted heroines are all the blaze.”
Eighteen rolled her eyes. While she’d never liked Karl (being a multi-year entrant into Dante’s Abyss did that to anyone), the cyborg knew the man did his job well. Worse than that, she knew she owed him for pulling her out of Ganondorf’s dungeon. If she was lucky, the would-be king would be drawn to allure and grandeur of the competition. Nothing would make her happier than the chance to put a knife or any sort of sharp implement through the Gerudo’s dark heart.
The thought brought a rare thing to the beautiful yet mournful woman—a smile. “Where do I need to sign?” She asked as she leaned over and picked up the pen.
All that remained was to ink a few additional contracts before they could start launching the Dataverse and local networking adverts.
And for that purpose, Karl had made sure to set up his office extra pretty to ensure that his more elite prospects felt comfortable as they signed their forms. As he adjusted his seat and neatened up the stack of papers, Karl heard a gentle series of knocks at his door before his intern popped her head through the open doorway.
“Your twelve o’clock is here, Mr. Jak,” the girl whispered. She was a nice worker, but she was terrible sheepish—to the point where he sometimes wanted to yell at her to be more extroverted. How could you hope to survive in this industry when you had problems looking a famous person in the face?
“Send her in, Carmen,” Karl replied as he found his nice pen and watched as the blonde woman with the robotic parts strode into his office.
“Is this really necessary?” The woman asked before taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “You already have my signatures for all those little videos in your library, Karl. Do I really need to sign more contracts?”
“These are different papers, Eighteen. They are just to confirm that you’ll be participating, so the company has free license to incorporate you into advertising packages. I mean, you’re a former Grand Champion, so you can imagine that we’d all love to be a little more visible with your presence. Plus there’s that whole plot where you were imprisoned by one of the desert’s many tyrants. Do you realize how great a story that is? A former champion reduced to slavery who makes another stab at grandeur? The people are going to eat that up and scream for seconds. I don’t know how long you’ve been removed from our home, but angst-riddled and emotionally conflicted heroines are all the blaze.”
Eighteen rolled her eyes. While she’d never liked Karl (being a multi-year entrant into Dante’s Abyss did that to anyone), the cyborg knew the man did his job well. Worse than that, she knew she owed him for pulling her out of Ganondorf’s dungeon. If she was lucky, the would-be king would be drawn to allure and grandeur of the competition. Nothing would make her happier than the chance to put a knife or any sort of sharp implement through the Gerudo’s dark heart.
The thought brought a rare thing to the beautiful yet mournful woman—a smile. “Where do I need to sign?” She asked as she leaned over and picked up the pen.
![[Image: KarlSig.jpg]](http://omniverse-rpg.com/images/KarlSig.jpg)