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Chamorus the Cat
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2010
Breylani Enterprises. One of the handful of AAA corporations in the world with the power to pump out the bleeding-edge technologies that the world ate up like the artery-clogging soy-burgers at Fattie's. Fucking future when fat has to be injected into perfectly good soy and then deep-fried in order to satisfy consumers rich enough to process said fat via biotech implants. Breylani provided the deadly burgers and the figure-friendly fat-synthesizing implant.
Now, elven corporations didn't always succeed; something about the drive for more, more, more that humans had that others just didn't seem to get. But every now and then, one of the elves had a lust to beat the apes at their own game; Breylani D'vou, named in the otaku fashion that had grabbed the world by the balls in the 40's, happened to be one of those elves that caught the bug back in the 1800's, when humans were disgracing the rest of the races with the Industrial Revolution. She'd been playing games, until the 1989, when after a crazy coke party, D'vou decided that enough was enough and she set about making something of the company.
But we're not here for a history lesson. On an artificial island south of Panama, surrounded by a veritable city for the eighty-thousand corporate employees that lived there, stood Breylani tower. At the tip-top of the tower sat D'vou's office, where she sat.
Now, elves don't live as long as D'vou did, especially the backstabbing drow. She looked too young to lead a mega-corp; hell, she looked like a college freshman. She'd been that way for a century or so; with little in the ways of public identity, there's likely no one that really knows how old the sorceress was, other than herself.
Dark grey skin, a shade away from deep black; lips of purple, eyes of gold, and hair like spun mithril. She wore a crisp white business suit, tight and sleek, with matching leather heels that bumped her up to six-feet tall and let her toes peekaboo out at the tiptoe of the shoes. Sitting in a large, plush office chair, her commlink went off. Her secretary popped up in her altered reality vision.
"Ms. Breylani," she said, "Bridget Helcliffe is here to see you."
A sly smile curled D'vou's lips. "Send her in."
Bridget was smart and another corporation wanted her. But no one left Breylani Enterprises.
No one.
Now, elven corporations didn't always succeed; something about the drive for more, more, more that humans had that others just didn't seem to get. But every now and then, one of the elves had a lust to beat the apes at their own game; Breylani D'vou, named in the otaku fashion that had grabbed the world by the balls in the 40's, happened to be one of those elves that caught the bug back in the 1800's, when humans were disgracing the rest of the races with the Industrial Revolution. She'd been playing games, until the 1989, when after a crazy coke party, D'vou decided that enough was enough and she set about making something of the company.
But we're not here for a history lesson. On an artificial island south of Panama, surrounded by a veritable city for the eighty-thousand corporate employees that lived there, stood Breylani tower. At the tip-top of the tower sat D'vou's office, where she sat.
Now, elves don't live as long as D'vou did, especially the backstabbing drow. She looked too young to lead a mega-corp; hell, she looked like a college freshman. She'd been that way for a century or so; with little in the ways of public identity, there's likely no one that really knows how old the sorceress was, other than herself.
Dark grey skin, a shade away from deep black; lips of purple, eyes of gold, and hair like spun mithril. She wore a crisp white business suit, tight and sleek, with matching leather heels that bumped her up to six-feet tall and let her toes peekaboo out at the tiptoe of the shoes. Sitting in a large, plush office chair, her commlink went off. Her secretary popped up in her altered reality vision.
"Ms. Breylani," she said, "Bridget Helcliffe is here to see you."
A sly smile curled D'vou's lips. "Send her in."
Bridget was smart and another corporation wanted her. But no one left Breylani Enterprises.
No one.