Easy Victory?

[Kauket]

Almost in automation, Revenant would approach the guards, offering over her offensive weaponary knowing that they would ask for it as it was a high security meeting, yet keeping her personal blade concealed under the armor, which would blend in when glanced from a sensor, seemingly part of the suit's life support.


"Do not defile my personal items whilst under your custody, Zoner. I will not surrender my personal shield, or my medication, these are only means of defense and health. If you must know, the medicine is required due to my cybernetics, incase of an emergancy. "

Would be monotonously noted out from the masked individual in a deeper and more distorted tone, before proceeding in to the building.


"I'm not even sure if I should trust these snivelling Mercs to protect us. They're nothing. Mere cannon fodder - Hots shots thinking they're good, drooling for money. That's what these mercs are. Why do they feel so safe here? These walls are thin, the guards underwhelming, barebone security measures, surrounded by whores for money, these 'hired arms'. They carry Ageira based weapons, energy, and encase themselves within ballistic armor. How moderate. I suppose it'll do - Cannon fodder, afterall. I should destroy them for being so disgraceful in our mighty presence. Cheap. Dirty. Disgusting. "

She would glance around with her eyes, concealed by her mask as she face forwards - glaring at the interior of the building's structure whilst following one of the guards that was escorting her to the meeting room.


[:: I am proceeding to the meeting now. ::]

[:: [004] Confirmed. Sector secure. Other guests arriving at checkpoint. ::]

The escort would lead them to the room, entering it slowly, introducing the new guest.

"Keeper Revenant of Auxesia. "

Walking in, they glare lifelessly towards the representative, giving a brief nod as a subtle greeting,

"Zoner. "


"The others have been seen landing, they'll be here in about five minutes. "

The guard would note before leaving, Revenant proceeded to one of the chairs to patiently await, silently meditating upon the seat to pass the time, keeping still whilst their mask seemingly glared at the surface of the conference table, slowly shutting their eyes. They kept almost completely still, becoming lost in their thoughts.

"Four guards. More mercenaries. Air, nominal, moderately warm. Conditioning within the suit is nominal, thankfully. Sweat is the last thing I'd ask for, nevermind being openly engaged in combat. Perhaps I'll take a small snooze in the meanwhile. Maybe not, they'll notice. Hm. "