Antonov - Muscles and Money

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Description: Caught up in an enthralling movie, Antonov forgot he had a very important guest visiting him. Tom Abel arrives to make Antonov an offer. One perhaps the big Russian cannot refuse.

Another cold day in Russia. Not that Antonov would notice due to being in the comfort of his large mansion where he should be looking at expense reports and trying to further promote the current season of Neo League. One that has not gotten off to the best start. Instead he was distracted by the movie playing on the big screen television as he gives a sniffle.

"Oh Charlotte......we will all miss your webs." he says while dabbing a bit at his eyes with a cloth. Why did he decide to watch such a tragic movie again? For someone that comes off as such a tough guy some of the most simple of movies move him to tears. The credits start to roll as there is a frantic knocking on the door to his office. "Sir! Sir!"

With a sigh Antonov hits stop and claps his hands causing the lights to come on. "Yakov, what is it!?" he barks as he sits up and composes himself. His rather large nosed assistant comes in soon after. "Have you forgot about your meeting? Someone very important is coming by!"

"Mmm?" Antonov tries to remember if he made a promise to meet with someone today. He often gets too distracted as he gets up and reaches for a cigar to put it between his lips and light up. He takes a deep inhale and lets out the smoke slowly. "Well if I made the appointment or not I suppose I should greet our guest if he is coming."

It isn't long before Antonov is making his way to the foyer to greet whoever it is that he was set up to meet this afternoon.

A rather suave helicopter opted to land in front of the mansion; as the foyer is approached, the sound of it can likely be heard quite distinctly. Tom Abel, a strange individual who was the sole survivor of the slaughtered United Nations diplomats in the tragic Gear conflict, and is now one of the upper echelons in the reformed UN; but beyond a number of media stories, almost nothing is much known about the man himself. Only that he's absolutely gigantic -- only two inches shorter than Antonov himself, but built like some god of Greek wrestling. In terms of raw aesthetics and pleasing muscles, modified genetics have been rather kind to the blonde haired, bronze skinned man in an impeccable custom grey suit with dark crimson tie.

Polished loafers clack on the frosty ground, two small females in business skirts and blouses walking adjacent; one blonde, one brunette, and both seeming better suited to modeling than anything else. Urien has a hand upon the small of either's back, and the moment the door is opened by an attendant, he has every intention of barging straight in without overt invitation.

"Making me come to your mansion, Antonov...?! Well, I can't say I entirely hate that. I'd do the same thing!!" Ignore the fact that it's since the billionaire Russian just plain forgot about the meeting due to higher priorities, like watching sappy films...
The doors swing open and Urien steps in along with two rather good looking women. Antonov can appreciate the style of his fellow business man and the company he keeps. Sadly Antonov has no women at his side and instead he is left with Yakov which he kids of shoos away before his arms out wide. "Tom! Well I am a busy man after all. I am sure you will get me back eventually.

Far be it from him to tell the truth on what really happened. He just motions for Urien and his companions towards another room that appears to be his study. Several plush chairs are available as he looks towards Urien with a bit of a quizzical look. "So what was it that you wished to discuss again?"

Yakov tries his best to keep Antonov informed with several reminders, but once the big Russian gets into watching movies he seems to really forget everything and focuses on the film. "Is it about the Neo League? Oh, no. I guess that sort of thing really isn't your style."

"Hah. King of your mountain, but still buried in work? You need to take the time to enjoy life, friend..." Urien leans over and licks up the cheek of one of his two attendants, who doesn't even blink beneath her small spectacles. She seems to be trying to look professional, for all the good it does. The large man settles into a chair with a 'whumpf', both feet immediately lifting to drop upon a nearby table, rattling it heavily. The ladies stand to either side, one holding a briefcase, the other a clipboard. "Neo League...? Why, I'm just a worker for the masses. Do I look like a fighter?" He somehow says this with a straight face, given he has every indication of being a powerhouse. You don't get built like that from casual workouts.

"Antonov Corporation..." he finally murrs, before looking around. "You have anything to drink here? Something heavy." Attention pivots back to the massive Russian. "You've done well for yourself. The richest man in the nation. One of the richest in the world. But you're a touch complacent in your success, aren't you...? How are your political and global connections? And your board seems a den of vipers, wanting to tear you and everything you've built to pieces for themselves. I'd almost think you weren't interested in the 'game' that every other person of your position readily plays..."

There is a snap of his fingers and there are a few servants that come through. Fine cigars as well as pretty much any top end liquor that one would want are availble after a cart is rolled out. "Take whatever you want, Tom. I can't drink and smoke it all afterall."

He moves to one of the chairs and settles down himself. He just gives a bit of a smirk at the response from the other man about not being a fighter. Antonov can be forgetful and a bit of a flake, but he isn't that foolish. It isn't a matter he presses and instead seems more than fine with listening to Urien speak while getting a glass of vodka for himself as he mulls things over.

"As much as it doesn't seem like it should, everything I own runs well and over the years it hasn't faltered yet. I am no fool, though. I know there are those that want to see me fail or perhaps worse." he spares Yakov a look before glancing back to Urien. "And I do have those loyal to me keeping tabs on those that wish ill of me."

He removes the cigar so he can take a sip from his glass as he sits there for a moment. His gaze more fixated on the glass and its contents for a moment. "The question is why you are interested. Is there something you need from me?"

"Hah! Good taste." Urien comments, plucking up a cigar and an entire bottle of whiskey much closer to four digit value than not. He unscrews it and tips it back, throat chugging as something most savor by the finger vanishes in seconds. A deep sigh as he tosses it towards a servant, who hopefully will manage to catch it. Chomping down on a cigar, he snips off the end before... something like lightning crackles between thumb and forefinger, igniting it. Huff, puff. A long stream of smoke is blown out to hang over his head.

"Don't misunderstand me. I'm not judging your methods thus far. You've succeeded. You've won. ...But now, the game's changed." His eyes shift to peer at Antonov, curiously. "I like you. You're strong. You're passionate. And you're smart. I can be a very good friend to have. All of your concerns in this world... all of your enemies..." He extinguishes his cigar on the end of a thumb. Oddly, it doesn't leave any mark. "Gone. I can ensure that Antonov Corporation conquers all of Russia. And then all of Europe. Every politician on your side. Every enemy quieted. ...and you'd be quite shocked at how little I ask in return."

It is quite the offer that is made. It does make Antonov quick a brow in curiousity. He has done a few favors here and there and thought nothing of it. He was just assisting the UN in the long run wasn't he? He is also one not to ignore the way that Urien lights that cigar and how he can put it out without nary a mark.

The more jovial attitude of Antonov fades as he gets a more serious expression. "You are making a grand offer. Part of me is curious....however." He trails off while looking deep in thought. "What might be a little you ask for now I wonder just how little it remains in the long run."

He takes one last long drag off his cigar and snuffs it out in an ashtray. He regards Yakov for a few moments before looking back to Urien. "With that being said. What is it you would want in return?"

"Let me open pandora's box for you." Urien snaps his fingers loudly. The women with the briefcase sets it across his lap, and the large Greek... just busts it open. Two thumbs lifting up tear through steel reinforced locks, the sort that would resist two struggling normal people with crowbars. Nothing that would truly impress Antonov, who could easily do the same, but it does confirm he is no mere mortal.

He comes up with manilla folders. "These are all names you may have heard. Whispered. Rumors. Often, from people who vanish shortly after." He flicks one to land atop the nightstand adjacent Antonov.

It reads: SHADALOO. Within is a briefing of the organization, it's scope, it's power, and Vega himself. Snapshots of the powerhouses in it; Balrog, Mike Bison, other top lieutenants. Another is flicked over: NESTS. A shot of Igniz and Zero from recorded combat footage. Again, it details the scope and power. The last, merely the Illuminati. It has a picture of Gill untransformed, his title 'Emperor', but otherwise lacks much info on personel.

"You have money. But all three of these have just as much. And they have more; vast resources and personel that you cannot compete with. Armies. In some cases, a single individual who would take out an army. There's a difference between me and the others, though. ...I'm not here to just 'take'. All I want is access to research. And the information capabilities of Antonov Corporation, to help find and observe my enemies. Beyond that, you scratch my back, I scratch yours. You'll be a free agent, still... only allied with one of the superpowers in the world."

The body is more than just for show. Antonov knew that of course, but it seems like Urien is wanting to show off a bit. He reaches for the folder and starts to flip through things. Some are names he is familiar with. Nothing too solid as the only man he has encountered in person of the all those shown would be Mike Bison. He in fact just dealt with the big boxer not long ago to get the rights to hose the Neo League.

"Tom, you come with an interesting offer. I am sure most would not refuse it, but I think you have me pegged wrong." he closes the folder back up and sets it aside. He stands up and motions around. "All of this is grand, but not interested in power struggles or ruling the world. I am interested in strength and competition!"

He folds his arms and his lips purse for a few moments. "I appreciate the offer, but I must politely decline. I am not sure really what resources I could offer you don't have access to. Groundbreaking technology or scientific findings aren't exactly what I deal with these days. I just ask whatever you are planning to do is just leave Antonov Corporation out of it and in return I won't give you any problems."

"Turn me down...? Hah! I figured you would. You've stagnated, haven't you? Achieved everything you wanted in the world of business. Isn't that why suddenly now, you desire fight? A challenge? Higher limits?! The 'game' needs not end here. I am offering you a new battlefield!!"

Urien pushes to his feet then, the females backing away a couple steps quickly. "Ruling the world is not about success. It is about striking down all your peers! But do you only understand the physical world, then?!" He moves to stride towards Antonov, tall enough that the marginal difference is nearly invisible, two titans; even if weight and bulk certainly goes to Antonov.

"How about this? Fight me. If I win, I get to use Antonov Corporation. If you win..."

There's a slow, thoughtful tilt of the head. "Well. You won't." Utter, irrevocable confidence painted clearly on his face. Transcending simple arrogance; like a child with a magnifying glass, peering down at ants. There is no true competition there.

While Yakov is starting to look frantic it seems Antonov more than keeps his cool. Urien is a big man and could easily intimidate the majority of the population, but Antonov just quietly gazes back at the other man as he tries to goad him into a fight. "Sir, you can't just give aw-." Antonov quickly raises a hand to silence Yakov's protest and seems to mull over the offer.

He then casually reaches for a cigar and places it between his lips. "Tom, I like you, but get the hell out of my house." It seems like another decline, but at the same time he isn't backing down. "Competition is one thing. Being an idiot and carelessly throwing away assets away is another. I will not make such a wager and if you really want to fight me you are more than welcome to do it in front of an audience."

His gaze remains locked on Urien and his face holding a stern expression. There is building tension everyone else in the room probably wants to be well away from. Urien can also notice the slight shift in posture. Antonov seems to expect things to get physical and looks ready to spring into action if that ends up being the case, but for now he remains quiet waiting to see what his 'guest' is going to do.

"I see. I see. You're a smart man. I guess I'm not going to get what I want from this. Truth be told, I like you, too." The two females shift to walk towards the door. Urien slowly rolls his broad shoulders, tilts his head to the left and right, causing a pop. His own stance remains loose, relaxed, before suddenly the smaller man shifts. Aiming to twist his torso into a brutal short hook, aiming to slug Antonov directly in the chin. The motion is sleek and quick, compact and well-trained, hundreds of hours of training distilled to sheer instinct. Yet he makes no actual motion to follow it up -- perhaps the last potential out. If Antonov simply takes the blow without retaliating, it's certain Urien will leave. He makes no attempt to disguise this. Yet his grin, the wild eyes, and hint of predation... were he allowed unharassed egress, then he will be ceding to the other man. A pointless thing, only witnessed by the two men. All it takes is swallowed pride.

That fist slams into the jaw of Antonov with bone crunching force and that cigar gets knocked right out of his mouth and goes rolling across the floor. "President!" Yakov shouts, but given his statue he isn't like he can move in and defend Antonov who is rocked back, but doesn't go down from the blow. There is a fire in his eyes that Urien can see, but it also seems Antonov has restraint.

"Heh, got some oomph there. I knew you were more than just another suit." he says while rubbing at his jaw. He lets things relax and it looks like Urien will be allowed to leave without feeling a counter punch for the time being. Another time and another place? Well that is another matter. Antonov knows his own strength and can only guess Urien is at least on that level which means a trashed house he rather not take time to fix back up.

He waits until Urien is gone for good and he can hear the chopper starting up outside before dropping back down onto his chair. "Are you okay?" Yakov asks as Antonov reaches for another cigar. He says nothing until he takes a long drag from it before looking to Yakov. "Of course. Make note. No more personal appointments from Tom Abel."

"...Hahaha. That's the difference between you and me, Antonov. I can't keep my beast leashed once it's angered." Urien lets out a small hiss, seeming satisfied; fighting for him is only about dominance. In this exchange, he has come out on top. "But I'm not one who's afraid to back it up..." He digs out a business card, flicking it to the floor in front of Antonov. "Neo League, if you wish. In the world of fighting, I am known as Urien. One of the top placers in Strolhelm... so you had best be on your guard." He peers back, and a gem crackles into view on his forehead. "I might have played with you here, but if we have an audience, I'm going to rip you to pieces...!!" He then returns to the helicopter, as the two females slip in after him. "So what of Antonov, President?" one asks, idly. "Shall we begin systematic harassment of his powerbase?" asks the other. "" Urien opts as the helicopter takes flight. "I saw it in his eyes. ...he's not 'done' quite yet." And, somewhere deep inside, he knew from that blow -- Antonov is a businessman second. Attacking his corporation might simply be removing the shackles of a potential beast in the fighting world fully...!

Log created on 14:50:55 10/17/2018 by Antonov, and last modified on 17:21:55 10/17/2018.