((This story is a look into the past of Agent Dennis Ryland. It will mainly run from as far back as I want to run it, onward to present day, but there may be a few flashbacks (depends how I feel ^^) I hope this will be a refreshing change from Devins story and show my ability to roleplay both sides of the fence, keeping them separate. Hope you all enjoy))
Part 1
The office was every bit as stereotypical as the last, spacious, well furnished and far from ill equipped. The walls were painted a deep maroon, a classic touch to the oak panelling and woodwork that decorated the rest of the room. In small alcoves, golden strip lights added to the mood of the room, lighting it enough to see, but dimmed enough to intimidate. It was the kind of thing the Agent who owned the office wanted. Deep red Leather furniture, wooden floorboards, a desk with a top of the line computer. These things showed his status in the corporation. These material objects showed wealth and power. But it wasn't the thing that showed his status the most, or his power. He already did that perfectly well himself. A man of sophistication and class, but not without his cheeky wits.
Dennis Ryland was an agent through and through, dedicated to his company, to his family. He had worked hard to get the kind of status he had then, and he would be damned if he was giving up on all that hard work.
Dennis Ryland sat at his desk casually, a cigarette between his fingers, burning slowly. In the background, classical music played softly, a calming piano piece, the perfect touch to the atmosphere. The smoke from the cigarette curled up into the air, a bluish grey whisp lingering in the dim light of the office. It lingered a moment before fading, dissolving into the golden glow of the few lights on in the room. He held the cigarette up to his lips and took another long drag. It had been a long day and at last, it was time to sit down and try and relax.
Inside, it was calm, but outside the battles were still raging, and peace seemed no where in sight. The young agent couldn't see why there was need for a rebellion, why people would turn their backs on the corporation who raised them, fed them and gave them jobs. Yet it was happening on Omni Beta, his backyard. Despite the calming office, there was no peace. In time there would be, and with alot of hard work. He knew what it was going to take and he was willing to do all he could to ensure that the corporation succeeded in it's goals.
He ran his fingers though his short blonde hair a moment, letting out a long, deep sigh. He was young, yet age seemed to be catching up with him already. Still, he was a handsome sight, dressed sharply in a deep grey suit, maroon tie and black shoes, he looked every bit the business man. Clean shaven and neat, his appearance showed a well to do, corporate worker. When he spoke, his tone was casual, yet it held age, and it held a wisdom to it too. His laugh was rather dry but not without good humour, and his smile showed a cheeky man behind the corporate agent. This kind of confidence shone in Dennis and it shone through his work too, intimidating when needed and friendly when deserved.
Dennis was a family man, married with a child on the way. He didn't want to have to bring up his child in a world torn apart by war. No one did. He knew he had to protect his family at all costs, just as he protected his corporation. But things were going to be hard in times to come.
His gaze fell upon the photo on his desk. A photo off his wife and himself, taken not longer than a year ago. It was black and white, framed eloquently in ebony and silver. A gentle smile creeped across his features as he looked at it, remembering where they were. That vacation by the falls. They were so happy. He had been promoted that day too, if he recalled correctly. They both stood at the foot of the falls, side my side, hand in hand. They couldn't have looked happier, more at peace.
It was a pity that peace was dissolving. Slowly, day by day, he watched his wife slip further and further from him. It was subtle, but he saw it. He had a keen sense for these things. And each day he tried to remain strong for her. She was scared for her husband, afraid he would never come back to her, that he would die on the field. But that was part of the danger of being an agent. Part of war...
Letting out a long sigh, he stubbed his cigarette out and leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes slip shut. Time would be the teller and time would be his keeper. He wouldn't let it slip by, but for just this moment, he would let it stand still for him, while the music played on, lost in his tranquility.
*woots*))
