[center][h1][color=39b54a]Shan Yongrui[/color][/h1]

[img]http://eva-img-cdn.24hstatic.com/upload/1-2016/images/2016-01-10/1452398027-boi-vi-yeu-anh-004-eva-vn.jpg[/img]

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[b][color=39b54a]Location:[/color][/b] Briefing Room-Office of Jackson MIller,ARGUS HQ, Athens
[b][color=39b54a]Interacting With:[/color][/b] [@vFear] (Relatively)

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Left to his capabilities in technical writing, Yuuna had left to retrieve the logistical aspect of their operation: their equipment. Yongrui stood tall above the briefing table with a wooden clipboard, in his left hand. Whilst, he scribbled information unto the precisely-pinched sheet of paper with his right hand. The pencil was most certainly used, and worn out. it's lead tip was blunt, and it's wooden-rod had been chipped of paint from use. Unassuming, Shan continued onward with his task. Tediously, however, there was a stick-up-the-ass format to follow for renting a VTOL. Assuming he'd just gather a couple weather reports and make sense out of it, Shan did just that. He placed the clipboard on the briefing room table, and pulled out his phone for weather patterns outside of Beijing. With Beijing's pollution, these weather forcasts were high in their unreliablility. Defeatedly, Shan made sense of the numbers, and wrote down some half-true values for the flight conditions. VTOL pilots were certainly the best of the best. They understand the basic concepts of global warming, and what it can do to a flight schedule.




Pivoting on a heel, Shan Yongrui walked out of the briefing room with the clipboard in hand, whilst the clacking of his Oxford shoes against cold, concrete could be heard from down the hallway. As he formally walked down the arena-like backstage of Argus Headquarters, Shan suddenly pivoted on a heel to turn into the office of Jackson Miller, The Head of Operations. As Shan Yongrui entered the room, Jackson Miller had been sitting behind his desk, smoking an exotic-looking pipe. His weary gaze slowly panned to meet the Brown eyes of Shan Yongrui, [color=9e0b0f]"Eugh... What do you have for me, Poseidon?"[/color], croaked Miller. Without a word, Shan Yongrui slid the cheaply fletched, clipboard across the fine, wooden table of Jackson Miller. Jackson Miller crept over to glance at the clipboard, before sliding back into comfortability with his chair, [color=9e0b0f]"Fine."[/color], replied the Executive decisively. With that, Yongrui walked out of the office, but still without another word. After about halfway down the hall, he placed his right index finger behind his ear, [color=39b54a]"Artemis. We have our flight."[/color], said Shan, in a sharp and smooth tone of voice, as he moved further down the hall...

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