[h1][color=ededb2]Martin Iglesias[/color] and [color=brown]Hugo Tarblatt[/color][/h1]
November 18, 6:16 PM
Old Voldoa, Engineers' Observatory
[hr]
Old Voldoa.

Large buildings, smoke and steam in the air, and Engineers walking about the place. The Announcement Tower over in the distance, silent at the moment. And standing before Martin, the Engineers' Observatory. Massive, round, pillars and all. Many stood on its steps, chatting idly. The only nonhuman being among them was Martin, and yet no one batted an eye. Martin looked up at the building, both impressed and intimidated. He had dawned his best clothes and used his best cologne in an attempt to look as presentable as possible. He took a deep breath and entered the building.

Before him, past the large double doors, a relatively empty foyer. Across the way, at the end of the marble flooring, there stood a long desk with a lone Tier II Engineer sitting behind its center. Martin approached, and the woman raised her head from the book she had been reading. "May I help you, sir?" She asked, not at all deterred by the fact that a Voldoan was standing before her, where as Old Voldoa was mainly a place for Engineers.

[color=ededb2]"I, hope I'm not late. There's not an expected time of arrival for these things is there?"[/color] Martin said. [color=ededb2]"I got a letter and-"[/color]

"Oh, you must be the newest Hand." The receptionist interrupted, marking her page and setting the book on the desk. "Do you have that letter with you now?"

[color=ededb2]"I-I think so."[/color] Martin said, pulling his coat open and patting down his body searching for the letter. As he did so, his expression grew in fear and he began to speak. [color=ededb2]"What would happen if I forgot it at my- never mind! I found it."[/color] he said, pulling the letter out of the opposite side's pocket and placing it on the table.

The Engineer picked up and opened the letter, examining for a brief moment before nodding and saying, "Alright, you can head up the stairs to your left around the atrium. Master Tarblatt's office is at the top."

[color=ededb2]"Should I knock or just walk in?"[/color]

"Knocking would be polite."

[color=ededb2]"Right, uh..."[/color] Martin said, kicking his foot out to the side in a very Jim Carrey like fashion. He stepped off, walking to the right and around the corner. A few seconds later he walked past the desk again. [color=ededb2]"Sorry uh, went the wrong way..."[/color] he said, walking to the left and up the stairs, and beginning his ascent up the long curve. As he climbed, he darted his eyes everywhere, noting the wooden walls and the marble columns segmenting them. Ahead of him above the steps, ornate plaques hung from the rounded ceiling. Each of them carried a message. In order, from the bottom to the top...

[center][h3]THE PAST IS THE MOLD

FOR THE CLAY OF THE FUTURE

YET THERE IS NOTHING TO CRAFT WITH

BUT THE FLESH OF OUR FATHERS

AND THE CHILDREN WE CARVED

FROM THE GENEROUS PAIN BELOW

WILL TOIL IN THE FIELDS

AND ROT IN THE CHAMBERS

A TIME WILL COME

WHERE ALL BEINGS ARE UNITED

AND WE WILL STAND AT THE SUMMIT

OF THIS GREATNESS WE HAVE BUILT[/h3][/center]

As he walked down the hallway and reached the door he was instructed to and he reached to knock but faltered for a moment. He was terrified, but he took a breath and tapped his knuckles on the wooden door. Knocking lightly.

[color=brown][sub]"Yes, come in."[/sub][/color]

The voice was muffled, but it still carried a sense of age and wisdom. Plus a bit of German accentuation.

Martin stepped into the room timidly. [color=ededb2]"Uh, Mr. Tarblatt, it's an... it's an honor."[/color], Martin looked around the room. It was built in a form of half-circle, with Tarblatt's mahogany desk situated at the very back wall. The walls were painted green, and the windows were a somewhat opaque turquoise. The floor was, once again, white marble, with more columns to boot. Scattered around the walls were stands, glass cases, paintings and portraits, all of strange make and subject matter. Tarblatt himself was seated at his desk, with a large global shipping chart sprawled out over it, riddled in red lines and marks. The man raised one of his hands and beckoned Martin over.

[color=brown]"Thank you, Mister Iglesias. Come, sit, please."[/color]

Martin shuffled inside and slid into the open seat, only stubbing his toe on the corner of Tarblatt's desk once. He offered his hand to the man, being mindful of his large hand. [color=ededb2]"You know my name but... it's an honor to finally meet you in person."[/color] he said, repeating himself without realizing it.

[color=brown]"I feel meeting with all our potential Hands in person helps sway them into accepting the offer."[/color] Hugo replied, [color=brown]"Speaking of which... thought it over on your way any?"[/color]

[color=ededb2]"Sir I've always wanted to be a hand, but I didn't want to expect anything. It's been a yes since I read it."[/color]

[color=brown]"That's wonderful to hear."[/color] Hugo replied, turning his head a bit and opening one of his desk's drawers. As he rifled through it a bit, he asked, [color=brown]"You know who recommended you? Kantus, the clinic operator. He said your contributions to "blood treatment", as he put it, have been quite remarkable."[/color]

[color=ededb2]"I... had the feeling it was Kantus. I had no idea he was a Hand though."[/color]

[color=brown]"Really? Never noticed his badge?"[/color]

[color=ededb2]"He tends to... be fairly secretive. You know how he is. He'll keep your attention on exactly what part of him he wants your attention. I've tried to keep my eyes on his face since I began working for him, I get the idea he doesnt like people looking at his arms."[/color]

[color=brown]"Well regardless of how he feels towards others' staring, he's been quite the contributor to our efforts."[/color]

Hugo then lifted an ornate, wooden box from the drawer. [color=brown][sub]"Here..."[/sub][/color] He said, placing it on the desk beside the chart. He raised the lid, and from inside, he pulled a metal badge depicting a circle of interlocking, nonhuman arms. The Badge of Hands. He handed it to Martin with a wry smile on his face. [color=brown]"There you are."[/color]

Martin reached forward and took the badge, looking it over for moment, and then he placed it in his coat's inside pocket. [color=ededb2]"You have a... very nice staircase, I must say."[/color]

[color=brown]"The plaques."[/color] Hugo replied, leaning back in his leather chair. [color=brown]"Just a little something-something I wrote years ago. The Engineers in charge of the Observatory's construction humored me by hanging them up."[/color]

Martin nodded. [color=ededb2]"So... are there any rules I must abide by, with my new status?"[/color]

[color=brown]"To start out with, it's really just privileges. You'll be allowed to attend our weekly meetings when they happen. The locations rotate, you'll be sent a schedule. We mainly just talk about current and future developments, have a few drinks, and so on. Beyond that however, you'll be granted a bit of authority over residents, much like any Tier II possesses. If your select services are required for something, we will expect you to answer any summons we make. That's most everything... however... [i]if[/i] you prove yourself both competent and trustworthy then, in time, you may reach an elevated status, even among the Hands. Kantus holds it. He is privy to... certain knowledge. You understand, yes?"[/color]

Martin nodded, but knew in cases like this simple acknowledgement didn't suffice in building respect or trust. [color=ededb2]"I understand."[/color] he reiterated. 

Hugo nodded.

[color=brown]"All there is to it, then."[/color]