Post by Wyntre Cold on Nov 23, 2014 2:11:47 GMT
Days of Renumeration
Of all of it, this was the worst part. Of the robots, the bio-androids, the radioactive two-headed dogs with corrosive saliva, evil geniuses, destroying cities and murdering innocents, this was the worst of it all. For all of Wnytre's cruelty, for all she has done, her business is the most inhumane.
Yes, you heard me correctly. Wyntre, she who will conquer the galaxy, doing her evils in the office. Not everything has to end with a Death Beam. That is: everything but her. Wyntre sat in her fancy, black leather, spinny chair and looked out over the city. Which city? Wyntre couldn't care less. It's going to be destroyed like the rest anyway.
Wyntre was wearing a very formal business suit, black with occasional streaks of purple. Finally, she turned around to see a table of overly-rich business-men who had access to some of the worlds largest and richest organizations and, more importantly, their money. Their money, oh yes. Their money, which is soon to be hers. They weren't scared at all, though. They saw this as a trading deal. The Planet Trade Organization is a space-faring Empire that has access to many exotic materials for trade, and now they where face to face with an Arcosian heir, who just so happened to be one of the most powerful beings on the planet in her True Form. "Gentlemen. I propose a deal." she started, eyeing the greedy businessmen. "You give me complete control over all of everything you own, and I may feel it in myself the mercy to let you live."
Silence. A few of them looked at each other with terrified eyes, the eldest one almost had a heart-attack. However, one remained completely confident. He started a light chuckle. A chuckle which turned into a laugh. A laugh which turned into a death sentence. "Ha, you're funny. Guards!"
After a few seconds, it came apparent. There weren't any. And then Wyntre started her own chuckle. A chuckle which turned into a laugh. A laugh which, well... stopped. If you where right next to her at the time, you'd hear her murmur something about how stupid the humans are. "Lieutenant Kiwano, come here a second."
Soon, a large, obese yellow bald masculine figure, with yellow skin, Planet Trade Organization armor and a few natural spikes came into the room, dragged a chain of dead corpses into the room, forming a chain of death as their hands have been morbidly rearranged to knot into each others. When the ten (dead) guards came into view, a few members nearly threw up, one of which did. "Would you care to show this gentleman what happens to heretics?"
A large, yellow imposing figure loomed over the man and picked him up by the collar before throwing him threw the window and out to fall hundreds of meters below, before a faint 'splat' sound was heard. "Thank you, Princess. That was awful fun."
The big fat man threw the literal chain of corpses onto the table, seriously traumatizing them all for whatever life they had remaining. One of the businessmen was literally weeping. "Thank you Lieutenant. Remind me to give you a raise."
"You don't pay us, Lady Wyntre."
"Then I'll allow you time in the Gravity Chamber."
"Thank you, my Princess."
To this, Wyntre had not responded. She simply gave a smirk as Lieutenant Kiwano left the room and her empty Hover-chair responded to her telepathic command and came into it. Flying into her hover-chair, she looked at the table of dead corpses, as well as the actual dead corpses (geddit?). Out from a hidden compartment in the chair came a large pile of paperwork. "There is one for each of you. These papers will transfer everything you own, your businesses, your wealth, even your homes, kids and wives to me. Sign it or die."
A few of the men looked to each other, breathing heavily. One of them signed it. And, over a span of ten minutes, after a long train of thought, all but one where signed. It was Mr Jones, who had complete executive control over a commercial empire of fast food chains and soft-drink companies. "I'd much rather die than hand over everything."
Wyntre looked at this fellow, and, after studying intensely on the subject, had seen intense fear through his well-made disguise of confidence. "That can be arranged. Do know that I can forge a signature with ease."
The man looked at Wyntre, eye to eye, for a matter of seconds which felt like hours. He snapped back to reality and furiously started signing like there was no tomorrow. This was good in reality, as he had none. Wyntre started grinning before breaking out laughing. "Thanks for the many billions of zeni. Now, please die!"
"But you said we can live!" "We did everything you asked of us!" "We did nothing wrong!"
Not bothered to answer their desperate cries of attempted salvation, she simply laughed. 'Don't care', he murmured to herself before commencing to add some new members to the dead corpse chain and casually throwing it out the window. Realizing they may figure out what happened, she charged a powerful ki last and incinerated all evidence (and a few bystanders). As you do. "Lieutenant! Get my ship ready."
Of all of it, this was the worst part. Of the robots, the bio-androids, the radioactive two-headed dogs with corrosive saliva, evil geniuses, destroying cities and murdering innocents, this was the worst of it all. For all of Wnytre's cruelty, for all she has done, her business is the most inhumane.
Yes, you heard me correctly. Wyntre, she who will conquer the galaxy, doing her evils in the office. Not everything has to end with a Death Beam. That is: everything but her. Wyntre sat in her fancy, black leather, spinny chair and looked out over the city. Which city? Wyntre couldn't care less. It's going to be destroyed like the rest anyway.
Wyntre was wearing a very formal business suit, black with occasional streaks of purple. Finally, she turned around to see a table of overly-rich business-men who had access to some of the worlds largest and richest organizations and, more importantly, their money. Their money, oh yes. Their money, which is soon to be hers. They weren't scared at all, though. They saw this as a trading deal. The Planet Trade Organization is a space-faring Empire that has access to many exotic materials for trade, and now they where face to face with an Arcosian heir, who just so happened to be one of the most powerful beings on the planet in her True Form. "Gentlemen. I propose a deal." she started, eyeing the greedy businessmen. "You give me complete control over all of everything you own, and I may feel it in myself the mercy to let you live."
Silence. A few of them looked at each other with terrified eyes, the eldest one almost had a heart-attack. However, one remained completely confident. He started a light chuckle. A chuckle which turned into a laugh. A laugh which turned into a death sentence. "Ha, you're funny. Guards!"
After a few seconds, it came apparent. There weren't any. And then Wyntre started her own chuckle. A chuckle which turned into a laugh. A laugh which, well... stopped. If you where right next to her at the time, you'd hear her murmur something about how stupid the humans are. "Lieutenant Kiwano, come here a second."
Soon, a large, obese yellow bald masculine figure, with yellow skin, Planet Trade Organization armor and a few natural spikes came into the room, dragged a chain of dead corpses into the room, forming a chain of death as their hands have been morbidly rearranged to knot into each others. When the ten (dead) guards came into view, a few members nearly threw up, one of which did. "Would you care to show this gentleman what happens to heretics?"
A large, yellow imposing figure loomed over the man and picked him up by the collar before throwing him threw the window and out to fall hundreds of meters below, before a faint 'splat' sound was heard. "Thank you, Princess. That was awful fun."
The big fat man threw the literal chain of corpses onto the table, seriously traumatizing them all for whatever life they had remaining. One of the businessmen was literally weeping. "Thank you Lieutenant. Remind me to give you a raise."
"You don't pay us, Lady Wyntre."
"Then I'll allow you time in the Gravity Chamber."
"Thank you, my Princess."
To this, Wyntre had not responded. She simply gave a smirk as Lieutenant Kiwano left the room and her empty Hover-chair responded to her telepathic command and came into it. Flying into her hover-chair, she looked at the table of dead corpses, as well as the actual dead corpses (geddit?). Out from a hidden compartment in the chair came a large pile of paperwork. "There is one for each of you. These papers will transfer everything you own, your businesses, your wealth, even your homes, kids and wives to me. Sign it or die."
A few of the men looked to each other, breathing heavily. One of them signed it. And, over a span of ten minutes, after a long train of thought, all but one where signed. It was Mr Jones, who had complete executive control over a commercial empire of fast food chains and soft-drink companies. "I'd much rather die than hand over everything."
Wyntre looked at this fellow, and, after studying intensely on the subject, had seen intense fear through his well-made disguise of confidence. "That can be arranged. Do know that I can forge a signature with ease."
The man looked at Wyntre, eye to eye, for a matter of seconds which felt like hours. He snapped back to reality and furiously started signing like there was no tomorrow. This was good in reality, as he had none. Wyntre started grinning before breaking out laughing. "Thanks for the many billions of zeni. Now, please die!"
"But you said we can live!" "We did everything you asked of us!" "We did nothing wrong!"
Not bothered to answer their desperate cries of attempted salvation, she simply laughed. 'Don't care', he murmured to herself before commencing to add some new members to the dead corpse chain and casually throwing it out the window. Realizing they may figure out what happened, she charged a powerful ki last and incinerated all evidence (and a few bystanders). As you do. "Lieutenant! Get my ship ready."