Owner	Pose
Victor Von Doom	The night is young and illuminated by the sickly orange-yellow light of New York City from the rooftop observatory of the Latverian Embassy. The color is reminiscent of infection and Doom's armored mask stares up into the sky impassively, but the revulsion at the place seems to roll off of him into an almost tangible feeling to those around him. He stands near the railing where a small table has been placed, with a bucket of ice and a pair of flutes left for the potential viewers. The deck is reached through a set up winding, spiral stairs from the penthouse suite of the Latverian dictator. While the powerful telescope - of Doom's own creation, of course - resides within the domed structure, while the outdoor area features enough space to seat four comfortably and permit viewing of the world with the naked eye. While most would consider Doom standing in such a place an opportunity for enemies to strike, only Doom's most trusted understand that a powerful illusion has been carefully warded upon the entirety of the observatory. To those outside, looking inward, it is nothing more than a blocky portion of the rooftop. Of the sort one may expect of a rooftop maintenance or utility shed. For those very few graced with the opportunity to look outward, from within, the view is what the world truly has to show. There Doom stands with his armored hands clasped to the small of his back, his cloak gently shifting with the breezes, and his Dining Mask of DOOM currently worn to permit his being able to drink with ease. One may note that his standard body armor has been eschewed for the evening - at least to all outward appearances - and replaced with an expertly tailored uniform befitting a dictator. Military in style and cut, it bears a number of service ribbons and achievement medals. At his shoulders his cloak is clasped, held there by the golden chain that rests draped across his chest and collar bones. There Doom awaits the arrival of his guest.
Zora Vukovic	Zora arrives in a stately, measured pace, ascending the stairs with confident care in each step. She keeps her chin up, her eyes forward, her carriage proud. A True Latverian lady in every sense. Those auburn locks have been textured and styled in a twisted low bun that rests against the nape of her neck, a few carefully chosen locks pulled free and given a loose curl to waft against the left side of her face and neck. Her gown is one that she's had made specifically for special events. Watered silk in Latverian green, strapless, with a semi corseted bodice and a swooping neckline that's both tempting and tasteful. The skirt reaches the floor, a thigh-high slit along the right leg allowing her ease of movement. The gown is accented with Doom Gold silk at the bust, creating layers and folds and forming off the shoulder 'straps' that drape artfully against her upper arms. Another embellishment of the Doom gold can be seen at the split in the skirt, an edging of the silk under the split that compliments the gown and provides a touch more modesty. She wears matching heels of Latverian green with Doom gold accents. Reaching the terrace, she dips a small nod towards Doom, enacting a modified curtsy that is more easily accomplished in the somewhat restrictive gown. "My liege. I am honored to receive your attention this evening. Thank you for the invitation." Command, really, but she would NEVER suggest that her presence was *required* for a social activity.
Victor Von Doom	Whether she makes a sound or not, Doom inevitably turns toward his guest as she steps onto the terrace. A small smile is visible from beneath the mask. Largely on account of the wider than normal rectangular hole that will permit him to drink. The arrival of Victorious earns a nod of acknowledgement when she dips into her modified curtsy. At the lowest point of her curtsy, Doom's armored hand extends toward Zora in offer. It is a symbolic gesture and nothing more, as she could easily rise up on her own without his aid. Regardless when those sworn to DOOM are down, it is his duty to lift them up. By their hand or hair, Doom must see them back to their feet. "Zora," he offers with a voice filtered ever so slightly by the electronic buzz of the voice modulator built into his mask. By her hand he seeks to guide her to the railing to view the sickly expanse of the New York skyline. Only when she's moved to join nearby does his hand slip away. "There are few who may flatter Doom. You achieve it with impeccable ease". The sound of the corker popping can be heard. Nor does Doom draw attention to the fact that he caught the cork as it left to the neck of the bottle, before Doom casually tosses it to the small tabletop. He begins to pour and his mask shifts, tilting that he may look sidelong toward Zora, "Once again you have earned the attention of Doom because you have served well. There are few rewards which could truly honor you for your commitment to the cause of the Latverian people. They do not deserve you," he pauses a beat, a small smile of amusement tugging at his mouth for a fleeting moment, "but Doom deserves all."
Zora Vukovic	Laying her fingers against his (armored) palm, Zora rises up gracefully with a responding smile, moving to join him at the railing. Her hand falls away from his, resting lightly on the rail instead as she inclines her head to him, "I do not consider truth as flattery, but yours is both appreciated and welcomed, my lord." Her voice is as measured and even as her steps, smooth and just a little husky. His Victorious would NEVER require picking up by her hair, always ready to give her all to Doom and Latveria, even if it means her life. She is his True Believer, the one that is wholly devoted to the belief that Doom is the only one capable of bringing peace and prosperity to the world. But beyond that, she believes in him as a scientist, a sorcerer, and a man. Domm can do no wrong. She doesn't need to see that he's caught the cork, to know that he's caught the cork, only the small smile playing about her lips giving away any of it. Instead, Zora looks aside to Doom and offers a warm smile, "I am grateful to serve, my liege. And I am honored that you have seen my efforts as worthy of your praise." Pausing, she adds, softer, "They are good people, my liege. They are being led astray by the wicked westerners with their puffed up 'ideals' while ignoring their own flaws and issues. We will show them the truth. I believe in Latveria, and its people." Her smile curves a little deeper, "And that goes without saying, my liege."
Victor Von Doom	"It does go without saying," Doom answers in turn, nodding softly along with his own answer. He pauses for a moment, allowing that silence to stretch out the length of a pair of heartbeats. "Which is why Doom is so pleased with your performance. Alongside myself, you are a beacon of inspiration for our people." The pouring concludes, the bottle is set aside, and Doom turns to regard Zora fully. The pair of flutes are lifted up and one extended out to Zora, his expression stern, but not alarmingly so. What little of his expression is visible is one of a man who treats much with the sincerity that it demands. Which means that a private respite with Victorious is treated with that sincerity. Even as he holds the flute out for Zora to claim, Doom carries on with their discussion, "Already our people begin to hold the name of Doom up as their godsend. Already they have witnessed the benefits of their faith in Doom," he says with a smidge of steely strength entering his voice, "Doom does not fail. They have chosen the correct path.
Zora Vukovic	Reaching out to take the flute from Doom, her fingers curling around the stem carefully, Zora offers a pleased smile towards him. "It is my honor to serve, my liege. Our people *need* strong leadership, good role models. And I can only aspire to be that role model at your side, to show them the way." Lifting the flute in silent toast towards Doom for all his work and accomplishments. Holding his gaze, she doesn't flinch from the intensity, meeting it with her own intense stare. Not a challenge, never that, Zora shows that she respects and believes in him enough to meet his gaze, hold it, but still remain submissive to him. "The response to the news report from the UN has been everything we could have hoped for. Latverian people are clamoring for a festival to celebrate Latveria saving the United Nations from evil fascists." No mention of the aid of the Western heroes, of course. They clearly played only a minor role! A follow-up report was set up after to talk about the overall issue and the plight of the immigrant aliens and how Doom is working to ensure they are aided... because Doom cares for ALL people! "You will be the beacon to guide our people down the proper path, my liege. And I am grateful that I will get to assist," Zora offers a smile and takes a sip from her flute.
Victor Von Doom	Doom's gaze drifts away and toward the sky. He listens to that which Zora speaks, while his eyes turn skyward and beyond. He does not move so much as a nod. He listens and he absorbs what his subordinate has to say. Her views and beliefs, her opinions and thoughts. When his mask shifts downward again, it's so that he may look toward Zora. His voice issues from his mask and the cowl ripples slightly with the breeze, "You fought for Latveria," Doom states firmly, "It was Doom who saw the victory achieved, but it was Zora who heralded our present". Doom's voice cuts off after that declaration. He shifts away from the view - as meager and unsatisfying as it is - so that he may consider Zora exclusively. He sips from his glass, but when it lowers and he's swallowed that brief indulgence down, Doom continues, "Latveria is grateful for you, Zora". A pause stretches out as Doom's dark eyes turn aside, less to consider the sickly glow of New York City's skyline and more to consider his thoughts, "Previously we had a painting created, a wonderful work of art as it turned out. It is the will of Doom that we next have a statue erected to honor those who ushered Latveria to its present fortunes. Let us capture that moment when Zora Vukovic sought out Doctor Doom and acted as the Herald of not only Doom, but Latveria's salvation." The declaration is made and carried into the breeze. It will happen. Doom has decreed it. There is no other option. Doom most generously offers ample time and space that Zora may answer, share her thoughts, or express her unending thanks for the generosity of Doom. Though only after the subject of erected monuments has been cleared from their conversational table does Doom shift onto a matter of business. Thankfully at least it is more a formality than a topic of any great depth or demand for their attention, "The group known as HYDRA will attempt to strike at Doom now. They will learn the folly of such an act. The HYDRA is but a fantasy; DOOM is reality". The armored fingers of the man tightens slightly, threatening to crumple the railing with his hand resting atop. Thankfully Doom is in control of himself, as he ever is, and refuses to be seen as without control. Lesser men are incapable of controlling their emotions. Doom is not a lesser man.
Zora Vukovic	Keeping her eyes trained on Latveria's King and ruler, Zora listens to his declaration, wisely keeping quiet until Doom has finished speaking. Nobody interrupts Doom if they value their life. Not even his Herald. Well, not entirely true. She has, very rarely, had to interrupt him to inform him of some vital piece of information or action. Generally speaking, however, it is only under the most dire of circumstances. There are minions that are still sitting in Latverian prisons for having interrupted Doom unnecessarily. "I thank you, my lord, for the great honor you bestow upon me. Your generosity in this will be sang of on street corners all around Doomstadt. I will have the city officials coordinate so we might use the unveiling to start a new festival celebrating the re-emergence of Latveria's savior, Doom." Zora lifts her glass towards him, both thanking him for his inclusion of her, but also turning it back around to make it truly about him and his beneficence. "Truly, my liege, it is an honor to have played even a small role in your reclaiming of Latveria, bringing peace and prosperity to its people." She toasts him with her glass once more and sips from the champagne. Zora does not fall to knees in gratitude.. but then, she never has. Her unwavering loyalty and gratitude to him comes through in the fervor of her voice, the proud set of her jaw, the gleam of admiration in her eyes. She showers him with the gratitude in her own inimitable way. Giving a short nod to the change of subject, Zora responds, "I have already alerted security to be vigilant against retaliation by HYDRA. There is another full compliment of men being flown in as we speak, they will arrive tonight. We are increasing our security measures as well, including Doomdrones around the exterior to keep watch, and extra Doombots stationed at key locations to provide additional aid in case of attack."
Victor Von Doom	"Every street corner?" Doom asks with a glance aside. He doesn't bother himself with looking across his shoulder toward Zora. He simply looks to the side in the vague, rather general direction of the Herald who stands at his flank. "From every house, to every street, to every factory floor; they will sing of Doom's generosity," he corrects sternly. Even if it was likely implied, Doctor Doom does not allow half-measures when it comes to the acknowledgment of Doctor Doom's own greatness. He shifts and the flute of champagne is imbibed. The emptied glass is set aside and only then do Doom's hands move to his back, clasping beneath the layer of his cloak while he stares toward the sickly orange skyline. A solemn nod is given regarding the report of increased security around the embassy, to which Doom acknowledges the measure with only a small downward tilt of his mask, "This is an acceptable precaution. While Doctor Doom has nothing to fear, those loyal servants of Doom and Latveria must be kept safe. Especially upon our own foreign, but no less sovereign, soil." It's then that Doctor Doom turns back to Zora and a look of smug satisfaction seems to glimmer in his eyes. It's a hard, piercing stare; but not without it's own degree of well-suited pride. "The attack on the General Assembly bore fruit. A piece of HYDRA technology was confiscated into the possession of Doctor Doom. While it's of inferior design, quality, and application? We will be able to bend this to our needs. After my analysis of it is complete, then reproduction will begin in limited quantity." Doom imparts this revelation as calmly as discussing the weather to his Herald. Where he may keep all of his cards carefully hidden within a trans-dimensional pocket in most regards; Victorious is one whom he may share some of his more minor schemes. He elaborates then, nodding once with a cold smile that is visible within the wider slot of his champagne-drinking mask, "We will replicate it and make use of it for our own ends in due time. Eventually a small number of those weapons, bearing the energy signature of the captured weapon, will be smuggled into Symkaria. They will be dispensed to factions within their borders who our spies can urge to lead a minor incursion on the border of Latveria's sovereign territory". The smile grows and while handsome in its own right, the man's bearing keeps it as cool as chilled titanium, "When it's discovered that Symkaria has encroached on Latveria's border utilizing technology derived from HYDRA? Then Latveria will be fully justified in defending itself." Then Doctor Doom falls silent. The floor now opened to Victorious so that she may cheer and celebrate the brilliance of her Dear Leader. Or offer her insights. Regardless Doom turns again, once more placing his back to Zora with a flourish of his cape fluttering behind him as he returns to watching the New York skyline in the distance.
Zora Vukovic	Zora inclines in her head at Doom's censure and agrees, "As you say, my liege. The people are always delighted to have another reason to praise and adore you, to celebrate your greatness." She lifts her glass to sip from, fingers grasping the stem lightly. She would never suggest that he's demanding too much or going overboard, of course. Such is the prerogative of greatness. While Doom finishes his champagne, she takes more time with her own, sipping on it slowly as she looks out across the city skyline. While the sight of the buildings reaching into the sky is something, it merely makes her long for the mountains and cityscapes of Latveria. Zora loves her country, every aspect of it, and while she acknowledges the need to be here to further Doom's plans, she will always be thinking of home. Glancing sidelong at him, she nods once more, "My deepest apologies if I somehow inferred that you required protection, my king. Obviously, it is not you that needs the additional protection but those loyal citizens that have made the brave choice to follow you to this overcrowded monstrosity of a city, to better serve your plans." Both brows lift up at the revelation and his Herald gives a faint smile of satisfaction, "Excellent. If you have need of additional material or technology, I will be at your disposal for retrieval." She pauses briefly, then adds in a murmur, "We have loyal citizens at the ready to aid us in infiltration and retrieval. After all, we can hardly be faulted if we must rescue our people from the clutches of HYDRA. Especially after we so clearly stood against them at the UN." As to the plan for Symkaria, there is nothing but a grim sort of satisfaction on her face when that part of the plan is revealed. Zora has hated and denounced their neighboring country for years, fought in the underground against them.. even denounced her own mother for being a Symkarian spy, shortly before her execution. A loyal Latverian to her core, there is nothing she won't do for her country and her king. "It is a testament to your genius that this plan is progressing so smoothly, my liege. I am honored to hold such a key position in it, and my gratitude for your generosity in this is boundless. I eagerly await the day we can annex Symkaria and make the country whole once more."
Victor Von Doom	The apologies are met by a casual, dismissive wave of Doom's gauntlet wrapped hand. It isn't that he's bothered to hear them; but likely deems them unnecessary from Zora herself. After Doom, she is the premier hero of Latveria after all. Which carries with it certain privileges. The Doctor does seem to latch onto something else entirely. Again his eyes shift forward, mirroring the direction of his mask. He looks out toward the cityscape and his slow but purposeful shake of the head results in his cowl shifting with the motion. When he does speak it is with a touch of sadness, though it quickly gives way to hope, "You are right. It is a decrepit husk, ever-teetering on the precipice of damnation and despair," and then his direction in the observation shifts. One can practically hear the small smile that no doubt adorns his features beneath the mask, "Without illusion or program, let us imagine for just a moment what this place could look like," he pauses a beat before Victor concludes, "if only these people would see reason and yield themselves to Doom." He fills many seconds imagining just that. A new New York City. Where Doctor Victor Von Doom held sway and his duly appointed Doombot handled the local bureaucracy and administrative duties. The sigh that escapes Doom is whimsical, but also carries with it a note of sadness. Within that sound is hope and imagination, tainted by the limitations of a future that simply hasn't arrived yet. When Doom has finally concluded his brief reverie, he shifts so that he may put the city behind him and Zora before him. Doom's mask stares toward Zora and offers his Herald a soft nod, content with her words before he offers her praise. As per usual. "It is refreshing to have someone nearby who recognizes the brilliance of Doctor Victor Von Doom," he imparts with another firm nod of his head. A step forward and Doom stands closer to Zora, but to her side. As his armored hands slip to his back, beneath his cape, the Doctor's helmet turns aside and his chin cants downward so that he may consider Zora. Now closer, the height difference between them made more substantial and resulting his his chin lowering further. "When the time does come; you will lead our charge into battle. Our people and our war machines will follow you into taking what belongs to Doom. We must act with precision however. The incessant nuisance that is the United Nations will cry out in protest if we act with unwarranted force or aggression. Despite the deliverance that Doom offered them in ensuring that they did not end up hostages or worse; they will forget that act of valor in their defense the moment that they see Latveria becoming something greater than the West can tolerate."
Zora Vukovic	Turning towards the cityscape, Zora looks out over it not as it is, but as it could be. Latverian influences creeping into the shorter buildings, more Old World charm, cleaner streets, more orderly traffic. Lighting that isn't garish and loud, gone is all the neon and LED displays with their tacky advertisments for unnecessary and unhealthy products. Sleeker skyscrapers with upgraded materials in the windows and antenna to keep them from reflecting light blindingly. The sounds of honking cars and old engines fading away to the more peaceful hum of electric (or solar) cars. Of a neat, orderly city run in a neat, orderly fashion. No more homeless on the streets, or drug dealers in dark alleys. Doombots patrolling alongside neatly attired police in their Latverian Green. A smile tilts her lips as she gives a small sigh, wistful and hopeful all at once. Zora blinks and the vision is gone, the filthy, bustling cityscape returned once more to its ignoble reality (for now). Glancing sidelong towards Doom, Zora turns to face him, lifting her glass towards him once more, "To your vision of a better world, my liege. May the people see the light of your brilliance sooner than later." Finishing her champagne finally, she sets the empty glass aside. Her chin tilts up to meet the downward tilt of his, keeping her eyes on him at all times. "It will be so, my lord. It will be a fast attack, and we will seek a swift victory. One that will end in Symkaria's unconditional surrender. By the time the United Nations can gather to rattle its saber, we will have a treaty signed and ratified, merging the two countries in peaceful resolution. They will feel foolish for having attempted it in the first place."
Victor Von Doom	"Our world will flourish and, above all, will survive," Doom answers with a solemn nod to the toast offered by Victorious. The Mask of Doom remains upon her before he concludes, a smile barely visible beyond the narrow grating built within his mask, covering his mouth, "when my rule is accepted by all." Doctor Doom considers Zora at length as she answers of her determination regarding the future Symkaria situation. Her assurances of a rapid victory are met by a solemn, expectant nod from Doom. The Latverian monarch - some would say dictator - lifts an armored hand to rest gently upon the nearest of Zora's shoulders. It is given a firm squeeze, signaling Doom's confidence in his Herald's words and intent, "Where many may find themselves lacking in my confidence; my confidence in you does not suffer such concerns, Victorious. You will ever be an example of your tenacity and loyalty; as well as the wisdom of Doom." The gauntlet lifts away and finally Doom offers a final nod, his gaze drifting sidelong to regard Zora once more. "That will be all, Zora. Doom shall remain at the embassy this night. There is a piano that requires my touch and the satisfaction that it will bring to Doom. For this reason you are given leave for your evening. Do with your as you will, Victorious."
Zora Vukovic	Keeping her eyes on his, Zora is raptly attentive to Doom's presence, and his words. That barely visible smile of his shining as brightly as a becaon to her, responded to in kind with a warm and devoted smile of her own. She gives a small nod to his statement, fervently believing in his vision for the future. The touch to her shoulder is met with a doubling of her resolve to see his will done. Doom's shows of appreciation are few and far between, but she takes each one as a benediction, a reward for her loyalty and competence in executing Doom's will. Her spine straightens a touch and her chin lifts a fraction, pride in his regard for her clear across her features. "Yes, my master. Your will be done." Then he releases her for the evening and she nods, starting to turn, then hesitating, looking back to him, "May I listen? I swear to be silent, my presence will be all but invisible... but.. I would like to hear the music you create, my lord." Zora watches him carefully. Sometimes he is willing to share his talent, sometimes he prefers the solitude for it. She will not push if he wishes solitude, but it's clear that she desires to hear him play.
Victor Von Doom	Doom's mask lifts with the question presented. He looks ahead and toward the telescope housed within the observatory. The filters which rest over the immense - and of Doom's own design, thus expensive - lens which would block out the light of New York City. The question seems to result in a moment of long, silent consideration out of the Latverian ruler. He does not waver, nor does his tremble with indecision. Doom watches ahead with quiet contemplation and consideration, clearly determining not only whether he truly wished the solitude, but also whether anyone - including Zora - was truly worthy of being entertained by Doom this night. "Very well," Doom finally answers with a solemn nod of his head. The Mask of Doom shifts slightly, directing itself toward Zora and his brown eyes seem to focus upon Zora in that moment. The pregnant pause lasts a moment, but is finally broken by the ironclad voice of Doctor Victor Von Doom, "you may join Doom for a night of sophisticated entertainment. Your silence will be appreciated; your applause well regarded. Return to your quarters for the hour. I must change into my pianist wardrobe and one would imagine that you too would prefer an opportunity to dress a little less formally - which you may." It is then that Doom offers a final, solemn nod of his head. The cowl shifts slightly with the motion and that seems to signal the departure of Zora. Only after she has gone does Doom turn to glance back toward the city skyline. A low, soft scoff goes unheard by any other. A few moments later Doom turns and begins his own descent to his private chambers below and their magically expanded dimensions. His pianist attire awaits.