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Grimmholt last won the day on March 14 2017

Grimmholt had the most liked content!

About Grimmholt

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  • Birthday 05/22/1994

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  1. The two men who entered the Nevatina could not be any more disparate in their appearances if they had tried. The first appeared as though he had recently exited the pages of some fashionable gentleman's magazine - his navy suit was expertly tailored to his lean, athletic build, his short raven hair and neatly trimmed beard displayed a respectable amount of gray. Yet he moved with a sense of vigor and purpose that seemed to accentuate that he was, for all intents, in the prime of his life. He hummed cheerfully as he checked his chronometer, and then glanced upwards at the building with eyes the color of burnished steel. He turned to wave his companion onwards. The second man simply towered over the first, broad chested, heavily muscled, with stern blue eyes the color of the sky above and blonde hair that fell to his shoulders in a gleaming mane. He wore a plain gray overcoat, under which a scarlet tie and white shirt peeked out. He walked alongside the first man with the sort of practiced efficiency that spoke of a lifetime of escort duties. With every other step, the silver handle of his sabre peeked through the coat, as worn and familiar to him as the callused fingers that steadied it as they approached the table. "Solomon J. Khaine, Esquire," the first man introduced himself perfunctorily, producing a simple business card that verified the same. "And with me is my client, Mr. Neromius Caesar. Thank you for meeting with us." At his name, Nero inclined his head in deference to the blonde woman sitting across the table. "I must admit, I was surprised to hear of the Opera's new ownership," he stated bluntly. "I admit, I was hoping that I would have had the opportunity to purchase it myself." Solomon promptly elbowed him. It was something like whacking one's arm against a brick wall, but it worked. "What my client means to say, I think, is that we have taken an interest in your plans for the Opera Divina. While we would have welcomed the opportunity to take it over and see it flourish, my client has a sincere love of the arts and would like to preserve both the building and its history if possible." Nero smiled broadly. "My primary business is the acquisition and trade of fine books, be they literature or histories. I handle retrievals as well, and translations where they need to be done. And sometimes my clientele cares for more recent books - blueprints, ledgers, and the like." He shrugged in a monumental motion. "It's a business that tends to attract a certain group of people - and they tend to frequent establishments such as your family's." Solomon cut back in. "So, we would like to secure a thirty percent stake in the Opera and its holdings. We would decline any formal share of the dividends or profits, as it would constitute a generous charitable donation for my client's businesses as is. However, we ask for voting rights on any decisions, and the use of one of the private boxes on an ongoing basis in order to entertain our own clients and conduct trade agreements as needed."
  2. Míra | Michael “I do fancy a good steak every now and then, perhaps I’ll find some time to dabble in your interests as well, pay a visit to this culinary establishment of yours.” "Should you find yourself visiting the north side of Hells Gate, you are most welcome to drop by Firebrand. My chef and I would be delighted to entertain you for a night." He tapped on the tablet at his side and flicked through the available screens until he managed to find the one he knew to be there. Michael hummed along for a moment as he typed, and then it was done. "There, I've sent the address directly to you through the onboard messaging program. It seems our host - and this city - are full of intriguing qualities." The ex-spy smiled warmly as he finished. “Charming,” He took her card - which, in a rather interesting symmetry also displayed a bit of her own flair. Michael lifted it to his face and appreciated the scent for a moment. "It came to him after a moment. In his mind's eye, he saw swaying fields of purple flowers beneath an almost too blue sky. "Lavender," he remarked after a moment, cocking his head slightly. "The color of royalty, refined, elegant - and fragrant." Michael gave an appreciative nod. "It's quite clever. And since scent triggers memory most strongly, an excellent way to leave an impression long after you and I have parted ways." “It seems I’ve struck gold so early into the evening,” It was a sentiment he wholeheartedly agreed with. Michael laughed richly, raising his glass to clink against hers. “To further possibilities, Mr. von Morgenstern. I look forward to what we can achieve together.” "To the opportunities that lie before us, and those which yet lay undiscovered." He drained his glass then and set it by the edge of the bar, where the silent, efficient machinations of the servants spirited it away as if by magic. “Tell me of where you come from, where you conduct your business and leisure alike. Perhaps it may find itself at the top of my list of places to visit in the near future.” Michael's eyes darkened for a second. He shrugged, and gave a wan smile. "My homeland of Alterion finds itself at the center of many dark and bloody contrivances. It's part of why I decided to move our manufacturing base to Genesaris, to Celin City. And likewise why I'm keen to come to Terrenus as well. A fragile stability - or the appearance of it - is far less wearying than its absence." His lips stretched into a more genuine smile. "But there is beauty here. When things have quieted down with the family business, I look forward to venturing out into the distant wilds here with a pack, a fishing rod, and a sturdy rifle. It is wonderful to have the opportunity to see the bounty of nature, to reach out and taste freedom rather than stale office air." He indicated towards her. "What of yourself? Where did your journey begin?" @vielle
  3. Rolling for Michael in the networking thread
  4. Míra | Michael “Not solely a vintner, not quite,” her lips twitch as she turns her eyes back to the man beside her. “I find myself a patron of opera and dancing as well.” "A rather erudite trio - one I hope I'll have the opportunity to enjoy during my stay here. My own interests tend towards the culinary, when I'm not enjoying the company of fascinating vintners." His eyes flashed with mirth as he spoke. "It might be quite amusing to see your favorite red wine and one of my best steaks paired for an evening." Michael smiled broadly. From a purely professional standpoint, they both stood to profit immensely if she really could deliver weak points in the industrial fabric of Terrenus to him. It was the most cost effective means of securing a foothold within the already established halls of commerce here. Moreover, he really did believe in keeping the skilled and downtrodden employed. If it happened to be under the gold and azure banner of Morningstar Industries, well - that was a fortunate byproduct of his enlightened philanthropy. Besides, he was rather enjoying her company. “You drive a hard bargain, sir, offering such a favor, and for nothing in return,” Michael snorted despite himself. “Knowledge ought to be freely given. I prefer tangible things when it comes to making deals.” He gave a nonchalant shrug at the faux objection. "As the old adage goes - knowledge is power." Michael reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a gold cylinder roughly the size of his thumb. A quick flick of his dexterous fingers brought the round face up for him to set between them. He spoke softly, with a matter -of-fact tone that belied his experience with the topic. "A single round can change the course of an entire war provided that it strikes the right target. Of course, an artillery bombardment might do the same thing by sheer brute force, certainly, carpet bombing the entire city that target is in might do it by dumb luck. But imagine knowing precisely where to send this one, rather inexpensive, yet potent round in the first place." “I am quite established in Terrenus, and I find that I would like to expand beyond these shores. I shall bring the individuals you seek straight to your doorstep, ready to comply to whatever merger or acquisition you wish, and in return, I would like the opportunity to commission your shipping services, as well as your weaponry.” She pauses, tilts her head. “Morningstar, was it? Your company?” Michael nodded his head in response and motioned to the sun and name engraved into the side of the round. "You can think of this as my card. Or a marker for Morningstar." He grinned. "I've been told often enough there's a bullet with my name on it out there. I figured I might as well be the one to manufacture it. And I agree. Upon your facilitation of my first contact, I shall furnish a black book of Morningstar resources for your exclusive - and discrete - use." @vielle
  5. Marcus felt the dart strike his agonized shoulder. He scarcely had time to curse at it before the smooth burn of what he hoped was a mild anesthetic began to settle in. Thankfully, Faust's mad charge forward was arrested by the appearance of one of the ship's crew just before they hit the ramp. Marcus released Faust's reins as the stallion reared up defensively - and to his surprise, the elf there was able to calm him down just as quickly. "Leveatha, Faust valtambathi. Etara si malnari coenya lasta felthalale." Had he been more alert, a little less wearied and battered, Marcus might have inquired how his rescuer happened to know his horse's name. Instead, he gratefully accepted the assistance proffered in simply making it up the ramp and into the ship before the Casimir began to unleash hell. "Quite the loyal animal you have here." Marcus gave a quick nod in response. "Faust is.. an unusual companion. I'm not sure where my brother managed to find him, but he's a surprisingly astute one." As if to agree, Faust stamped his feet against the hard metal of the deck. Marcus laughed softly. He gave the Elf a pointed look as he touched his hand, but swiftly realized that he was obviously not there to harm. Besides, decking someone is hardly a fair thanks for their aid. "The name's Winter. Thanks for the help out there, mate." "Well met," Marcus answered, brushing the locks from his good eye before he gave the elf a solid handshake. "My name is Marcus Caesar, but anyone that saves my rear is welcome to call me Marc." He was about to speaker, but the hull suddenly shook with an unexpected impact and the tortured squeal of ripping metal. And then the clatter of explosive submunitions detonating all around them. "Sounds like we're in for a hell of a day." - - - - Marcus was a guest aboard the Casimir - and as such he was polite enough to leave the Magnum in its holster as the negotiations begin. Oh, his hand was still resting on its scorched grip, but he had no inclination to draw steel and make himself too an obvious target during the negotiations. Besides that, the tremendous energy of his last shot had overwhelmed his warding runes and warped the silver cylinder into an oblong tube of charred metal. His spare cylinder was mounted, but Marcus was loath to test the newer design in action when his life depended on it. He frowned deeply as Darnell and Echo squared off tersely. His fingers tightened hard around the Magnum as the tension threatened to explode. He had kept a conventional load of ammunition ready - six shots rapid into the leader, and then a hex round or two into the metal one, he decided. Of course, there'd probably be enough lead flying soon enough that it'd be a futile endeavour for all of them. Thankfully, the strange robotic one seemed to have a cooler head and tightly restrained the situation before it could get any closer to a shooting match. The mercenary watched their erstwhile captors as they vanished down the ramp. Getting involved further profited him little. The smart thing to do would be to pack up and leave the ship and its crew to their fate. Even whatever intel he could gather from selling its location would be worthless if it ended up killing him in the process. Moreover, he felt an odd kinship with them. He had been there at the last, desperate stand of the Astoria as it went down in flames. Fought among its shattered ruin. Different crew, different times, but even so he did not wish to abandon them so easily. “Someone help me patch that damn hole in the bridge.” "Aye, Captain," he answered smoothly, and turned to do just that.
  6. Míra | Michael “Perhaps,” their glasses met and clinked delicately as he accepted her invitation, “though I might still prefer the grapes from my own vineyards.” Connections were made, and the context of her earlier question became clearer. "Oh, I couldn't fault you there. It seems a wholly more pleasant proposition to enjoy the fruits of one's labor, at any rate. Are you a vintner by trade, or is it simply something you do in addition to other ventures?" “Interesting conversation, yes, but above all else, opportunities.” He felt a flicker of something beneath her cool demeanor as she spoke - something in the gleam of her eyes as she mentioned opportunities. He was reminded briefly of the first time he had seen a panther stalking through its territory, all languid grace and silken stride up to the moment it pounced. It seemed Caeceila had an intriguing social circle - and he had found himself dealing with one of the most interesting. Michael leaned back slightly and smiled as he felt the weight of her inquisitive eyes on him. Something tells me you're not here to sell me a crate of wine. And that is perfectly fine by my taste. "Opportunities abound here," he replied with a casual wave towards the room and the collected members of Hells Gate society and beyond. "But I may have one for a person of your particular taste and refinement." “What do you consider interesting, then, Mr. von Morgenstern? I’ll have to endeavor to provide, if we are to have a fruitful discussion." It was his turn now. His cool blue eyes came to meet her own, a wolfish smile on his lips. "My company is interested in expanding into Terrenus, but I've heard of strange and deeply concerning events occurring across the land. These sort of things tend to disrupt industries here and there, and I imagine quite a few of my future manufacturing competitors may be considering exiting the field." He took another deep sip, breaking the flow of the conversation. It allowed him an opportunity to see whether she was following along - although he had no doubt she would be. "It would be a shame to see their marques close and their workers go unemployed. Should you come across any such individuals over similarly fine wine, Morningstar would be much obliged if you would pass their information along." "We're quite good at producing industrial equipment, shipping, and even some forms of weaponry, of course. As a token of my gratitude I would be quite happy to procure whatever implements you might require to expand your own business. On the house." @vielle
  7. @vielle Three years is plenty enough for me! Do tag me whenever you’re posting and I’ll be right there :3
  8. @supernal @vielle I’m in for COTH with the Spoons And depending on how distant the Blairville one is, I would love to earn a “marker” with Toxicant!
  9. Míra | Michael Michael glanced appraisingly in her direction as the sharply dressed woman took her seat. His lips twitched up at the corners at the bold greeting. "Given my company, I imagine the choice is rather simple." He caught the attention of the bartender before they could vanish and held up two fingers. A moment later, a matching glass of expertly poured wine materialized before him as well. He took her hand and gave an earnest shake. "Michael von Morgenstern. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Andronov." His fingers closed delicately around the neck of the glass and he gave it a modest swirl as it cleared the table. He noted the wine was almost the same attractive shade of crimson as her lips and nails. If it had been a deliberate measure, he had to applaud it. "I admit, I briefly wondered what sort of person they would match me with to begin the night." He flashed a bright smile. "At the very least, you know how to introduce yourself splendidly." Michael took a sip of the aerated wine and took a moment to appreciate her choice. "I'm hardly well versed in the finer points of wine, but it seems our gracious host has excellent some excellent stock. Certainly an expensive taste for it, given some of the vintages I've seen being ordered out on the mezzanine." He rested the glass down beside his now deactivated tablet and shifted slightly to give her more of his attention. Michael took in the details of her appearance with the practiced ease of a professional spy. Her attire was of the same if not better quality materials than his own suit, professionally cut, and certainly of impeccable design. She appeared to be young, perhaps even younger than he was - but there was a keen intellect to her eyes that belied it. Experienced. Comfortable with people. Attractive. Businesswoman, he intuited - although the same qualities could apply equally to spies. Frankly, he was more than happy to assume the former possibility. He was out of the game, and held no interest in returning to the twilight world of espionage. Corporate small talk was easier, anyways. "So what brings you out to the generous hospitality of the Glasmann estate? Were you lured here by the promise of interesting conversation as I was, or are you an acquaintance of our host?" @vielle
  10. @vielle I apologize for being tardy to the party I hope it's more like fashionably late at this point
  11. @vielle He had to admit, there was an understated and artful touch to the way in which the Glasmanns had adorned their estate. The old met and mingled with the new - neither struggling to oust or outmaneuver the other. His eyes were the color of morning frost as they danced across the mezzanine and the rest of the estate, his hair pulled back to tame the unruly blond curls that fought to frame his face. "It's quite impressive, isn't it?" he murmured to his companion. The servant nodded eagerly, and busied themselves pointing out the unique facets and trivia associated with each of the particular areas. It was a curious sort of gathering, he mused. So many dissimilar and uniquely positioned individuals all brought together by the invitation of the mysterious Glasmann scion. If he had been a paranoid sort, it might have seemed far too good to be true, but it was hard to be paranoid when you had few enemies left breathing. Michael turned to head back to the bar, trailed by his servant. He flicked the tablet up and browsed through the documents and schedules provided, looking to see who exactly he had been tasked to meet with. From the other groups, Michael surmised that it could be another person within his field - another manufacturing magnate, perhaps. Or, like the lively conversation taking place beside the bar, it could very well be a match of opposites. An environmentalist to offer a counterpoint to his dedicated capitalism. Either way, he was hardly going to pass up on some more of the excellent liquor provided by their gracious host.
  12. "If it works, it may wind up being the most cost- and time-effective means of handling the question of the Loci." Audric nodded along. "It may well be to our advantage to try and keep the status quo intact rather than encouraging active combat between two dissimilar Loci. Plus, it would leave more resources to us to analyze and combat the other myriad threats we currently face." He held up the pamphlet. "But how swiftly could we begin to explore that option? And is there a real chance that the Enrele may chance upon our shift in focus and begin to try and interrupt our efforts to stabilize the situation? At the moment the chaos benefits them tremendously. The fewer problems we have to face, the more we can begin to counter them effectively."
  13. "I like this drama . . . dee concept you invented. Something to make them belly-laugh, then when they aren't looking you can cut 'em open and punch them right in the heart." "Can't claim credit for it, but I've seen it doing pretty well. It's something I think this crew should be able to work with pretty well. Once the script is together I can start getting with the arts and crafts dudes and get started with the promotional materials." Bax rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "And I think these three might be just the right mix of chemistry to really sell it."
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