Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-11644980-20140128161023/@comment-11644980-20140131151105

A secretary glanced over at Ric, a bubbly, slightly-plastic smile on her face. "Interviews are going to be on the thirtieth floor, that's the second down from the top. Good luck with your interview, sir!"

Up on the top floor of the building, Allen Ciano leaned over his desk in his private office. Although to the casual observer, "war room" might be a more fitting name: His oversized hardwood desk was full of business ledgers mixed with financial reports, weapon schematics, target profiles and- of course- the assembled profiles on the few new employees he'd been looking into.

There was a large map stapled over a bulletin board on one wall with various pins, strings, and other symbols strung across it, and Allen glanced at one or two of the newer items before the watch on his wrist started going off. He swatted it silent and retrieved Piccolo Amico from where it leaned against his desk, folding it into it's storage form and slipping it into it's holster on the inside of his jacket. Then he gathered up his recruiting papers and walked over to the elevator. He was about to press the call button when the door opened on it's own accord, revealing one of the very recruits he was about to interview!

The CEO stared dead at the mercenary, stone silent for a moment or two. Then he cocked an eyebrow in mild irritation, though he masked it with a pseudo-amused grin. "Wrong floor, I think," He stated.