Interacting with:
Gabriel Hynatos Umberhorn
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Danger Arceneau stepped onto the cracked duracrete, the sharp click of her well worn boots muted by grit. She wasn't dressed for boardrooms today, no need for velvet diplomacy when dust and sweat were the currency. Instead, she wore a tailored jacket the color of storm clouds, soft enough to suggest refinement, sharp enough to mean business. Her auburn hair was pinned neatly, though a few rebellious strands caught the wind.
Cantoi was a wounded beast. Scars of civil war crisscrossed its landscape with buildings half eaten by blaster fire, entire districts hollowed out like broken teeth. But scars told stories, and stories were worth something if you knew how to spin 'em right.
Gabriel Hynatos Umberhorn stood ahead, the self appointed architect of Cantoi's resurrection. Data slates tucked under one arm, he spoke with the polished confidence of someone who'd rehearsed every word. He had an interest in gaining assistance from the Corporate Interest Guild, and Danger was willing to assist in that opportunity.
Mmm, Danger mused silently, the corner of her mouth curving in a smile too polite to be called sharp, but sharp all the same.
She stepped forward, giving a small nod,
"Well, Mistuh Umberhorn," she drawled, voice low and smooth like velvet,
"I reckon war's a bitter harvest, but even barren fields can yield somethin' worth the reaping... if you know where to dig."
She glanced around, letting the weight of her words settle like the dust swirling at her feet. The city breathed its brokenness, but beneath that --
possibility.
She extended her hand in greeting as well as for reviewing one of those data slates,
"Danger Arceneau, of Arceneau Trade."
She had done her own bit of research as well, but also wanted to double check what was presented.