"LEAVE THE LOST AND DEAD BEHIND, NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO RUN FOR COVER."
MIKHAIL ALEKSANDR ROMANOVMICK•HAIL AL•ECKS•AND•ER Row•MAN•OFthe basicsNICKNAME: mitch
ALIGNMENT: neutral evil LOCATION: chicago, il BIRTHDAY: september 27th SEXUAL ORIENTATION: "straight" HEIGHT: six foot seven HAIR: black EYES: emerald green OCCUPATION(s): business mogul / CEO / illegal weapons dealer character interview"You have exactly six seconds to tell me why you are in my office and what you want." He didn't even bother to look up from his desk, tapping away at the keyboard as a line of text appeared in the air in front of him, a holographic screen displaying the coding to the left of his monitor as he typed. When he was working with more in-depth diagrams, he had two similar glass panels on either side of him that could project what he needed to see.
"Five." The glowing screen vanished as he pulled the coding from it back onto the physical computer he had before him. "Four." The screen went dark as he leaned back in his chair, the high-backed and worn leather obviously a favorite spot of his. "Three." A drawer was opened and a pack of cigarettes pulled from it, a lighter following to a spot on his desk. "Two." Sitting up a little straighter, he lit it, blowing smoke toward the ceiling, free hand traveling beneath the desk with a brow risen in curiosity. "One." Calm down, Mikhail. Just say something about yourself. "Something about me is that you are currently testing my patience. Do you have an actual question, or are you wasting my time?" He questioned, hand coming up from the desk, whatever threat he'd been feeling negated as he blew more smoke up toward the vents. It was caught in the air blowing from them, dispersing into the room. Quit being an ass. Pretend you're giving an interview. At that, he looked to actually be considering the prospect. "I'll give you fifty words or less, and then you will leave." He finally decided, sitting back and getting more comfortable in his chair, a smirk working its way onto his face. "I started this company, Speck Industries, as a means to an end. I wanted an empire, so I created one. We primarily produce safety. You may believe this is something that can't be manufactured--" His smile turned into something worthy of the Cheshire Cat as he leaned forward, raising a finger. "--but you'd be wrong. It is, and people will do anything to have that safety." FUN FACTSDOMINANT HAND: left
SMOKES: yes LANGUAGES: russian, english, latvian, italian, japanese TATTOOS: fourteen+ PIERCINGS: one GLASSES: no COFFEE OR TEA: coffee, black MORNING OR NIGHT: morning CATS OR DOGS: dogs PET(S): jarvis (rottweiler) A VEHICLE: ferrari 458 italia A COMIC: iron man A SWEET: chocolate covered cherries |