maximum haltmann

 Oh, man, he looked mad. Rock couldn’t exactly blame him, but there went the hope that he’d be lenient about the mistake. So much for fighting for everlasting peace when he managed to do something like this to a living being! He decided that it was in his best interests to get over there as quickly as he could and offer an apology. That, and maybe some help in clearing up that injury.

 “I’m really sorry about this. I-I normally do hold onto things - well, I mean, of course I do, but, better - and…” With a breathless sigh, he tried to calm himself down and showed the Triplicata he’d attempted to break into. “What I mean is, I was trying to find a way into these things to see how they do so much even though we can see straight through them. I thought it was cameras, so I was trying to get it open to see how they connected, and…” With a short hand motion, he mimicked a spiralling screwdriver flying off. “… that’s when it hit me that it wouldn’t work. Well, it hit you, but you get what I mean.”

Haltmann sat in stern, stony silence as the boy babbled on like an ignorant child: he was dithering, dodging from subject to subject as if it would make up for a lack of good judgment.

Haltmann's company expected perfection. President Haltmann demanded perfection. To see a robot exhibiting none was a terrible error in his eyes.

He tapped his cigar against the arm of his chair, dropping ashes on the ground.

“...Hmm. You’re quite the intelligent one, aren’t you.” Too much free will to be expected of a robot.

“Who is your maker, my dear boy? I wish to have a word with them.”

[◑] “A job?” Not what he’d expected, but he certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea. He’d intended to find some sort of mechanics shop to work at sooner or later anyways, so this could give him some decent credit…

“Well, I can at least take a look at it, and see if I know how to fix it. If I do, then I’d be more than happy to.” But not for free, of course. 

“Superb. Now, if you’ll be so kind...”

Haltmann began to lead him down the streets of Utopia, making little to no conversation along the way. Eventually, the two would reach a privately owned self-storage facility, gated off from the outside world. After flashing his ID to a worker and ordering them to open the door, Haltmann unveiled his Executive Suit.

In the past, it would’ve been a sight to behold, a golden weapon studded in gemstones, but now, it now sat vacantly in the back of the storage unit, nothing more than an expensive relic taking up space in the old man’s garage.

No, this is simply inconceivable! That giant purple rotund thing just stole his amazing incredible on-its-way-to-being-patented idea!

In a fit of rage and exercise of protest, Richard hauls ass towards the strange creature and chucks a sizable rock at its giant floating throne.

“You! Tubby! Come down here and fight me for that idea like a real man!” He raises his dukes, rolls his fists, and makes himself look as threatening as possible, never mind the lace and gold trim.

Haltmann was too busy winning over the public to notice Richard’s attempted assault. The rock makes a decent-sized dent in the side and sends him spinning around in mid-air.

“How dare you! I’ll have you tried for this, you!” And remembering that he’s a public figure, he adds, “Do you see how he treats my property, everyone? Your ‘king’ is no more than a reckless vandal!”

Did this creature seem to think that something so simple as a brisk walk would be enough to turn her away? Not in the slightest! Sophie Hatter was made of sterner, more stubborn stuff. Not even a king could manage to order her to leave when her mind was set to it!

She picked up the front of her skirt to prevent any chance of accidentally tripping over something; she was about to be much too concerned with berating this low-brow menace to worry about silly little things like mud.

“You’ll be begging for much worse things by the time I’m done with you,” she promised, wisps of hair already beginning to fall from the sensible up-do she’d hastily thrown up earlier that morning thanks to the speed at which she was being made to walk. “Listen here, you’re being entirely inconsiderate. There’s more than enough walkway if you absolutely have to rush around like that – oughtn’t you have to have a license for that contraption?”

It would seem his opponent was a persistent one, unwilling to change their course or mind. Haltmann sighed to himself as she blathered on. There was no use trying to reason with someone so utterly insignificant.

Does your muse want to meet anyone they knew from their world before in utopia?

Haltmann does not concern himself with things like connections or relationships. At his level of power, networking is unnecessary; no one else in the galaxy comes close to matching his company’s reach. (Save for Nightmare Enterprises, perhaps, but that’s not exactly Kirby Game Canon.)

That said, he would like to exchange a few words with his loyal secretary, Susie, who he vaguely remembers knocking him out before he found himself in the Terminal.

✄: what is your muses opinion on the holy grail war?

ϟ: is your muse happy being a servant/master or would they switch roles if they could?

❅: what does your muse think of their partner?

✫: if your muse won, what would they wish for?

☠: has your muse fought/killed someone in the holy grail war? do you think they will in the future?

®: is your muse adjusting well to utopia?

∞: does your muse want to meet anyone they knew from their world before in utopia?

❂: has your muse been injured/ died in the holy grail war? do you think they will in the future?

[◑] “Aha… ha…” Yeah, Sigma should probably just let him think that it was ‘business affairs’ and not, well, the other kind of affair. Well, it hadn’t actually been an affair. It was just Sigma doing what he’d done best, which was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong and getting in trouble. Among other things…. no, don’t get distracted. Stay on topic, Sigma.

“Robotics, actually. But I mean, I still worked with machines, so I guess it’s not that big a difference.” Actually, yes it is. It is a difference, Sigma.

Haltmann raised a brow at the man’s nervous laughter, but he didn’t press the matter any further than that. A mechanic’s abilities were far more important than the lurid details of their personal life.

“I may have a job for you then, young man. As you can see, I’m no mechanical slouch.” It only took a look at his jet-powered chair to dispel the notion otherwise.

[◑] Sigma wanted to throw a retort, but his arms were notably buff. And in all honesty, he was quite happy to see them like that, thank-you-very-much.

He really wasn’t sure how to react to the news that this guy was a CEO, though. What sort of things did they sell, character costumes? “I guess I’ve never met a CEO, then. I have had a run-in with a politician, but they’re a little different.” Plus, that encounter had been… awkward, to say the least.

“Hmm. Yes. Local politics, yes. It’s always amusing how your kind assumes they have a say in that sort of thing.”

Haltmann wasn’t threatening to blacklist him anymore; it might’ve been that his mood was improving. He took another glance at the man, paying particular attention to his uniform.

“By all means, I have no quarrel with you.” It may not have been the answer Haltmann was seeking but it was hardly a rejection either. Given a choice, Solas would have followed the president - if only to keep a better eye on him and his machinations.

He considered his blessings - finding Ann among them - and nodded in sympathy. Perhaps once Haltmann found his ally, there would be less of this eggshell tiptoeing nonsense. Until then, who better to soothe a man’s ego?

“No, I shan’t keep you. Let us reconvene at a later date and share what we’ve learned.”

By all means, I have no quarrel with you.

“Good. Then let us keep it that way.”

“Do not disappoint me, Evanuris. You’ll find that I’m quite the particular man.”

Of all the things she had expected, being whacked on the arm by the golden filigree of an ornate moving chair was not one she had ever thought to find in this world. Hissing in pain, Sophie clutched at her upper arm and turned over her shoulder to see what had hit her.

What had it been?  Some sort of construct? Perhaps a golem? No matter what it was, it had no business zooming around on its little chair without regard for passers-by such as herself.

For just a moment, barely even that, she considered just going on with her day. But no, rather, that was a stupid idea. Why let it move on then if it were only going to hit someone else like this? “Hey!” she snapped, spinning around on her heel to march purposefully towards the construct. “What do you think you’re doing, hurtling around like that with hardly a thought for others walking around?”

It was ludicrous -- outrageous -- that Haltmann was expected to share the same streets as the commoners, but without his spaceship to take him around, it was either this or renting a limo. Most of the rabble had the common sense to move away from his hover-chair; it was hard to miss the rumbling thrusters or its shimmering golden frame.

Of course, there was always a bad egg in the basket, there was someone too proud to get out of his way. The collision knocked Haltmann off-course for a moment, just enough to make him shift in his seat. “I beg your pardon,” he scoldingly said before he continued on his way.

And that would’ve been the end of that if someone hadn’t belabored the point. Upon hearing protest and approaching footsteps, Haltmann could only roll his eyes. As if he would honestly bother with a person possessing such utter clumsiness.

[◑] “I’ve met businessmen, but they’re usually not that round.” Well, not in the literal sense of the word, at least. Sigma was a bit unimpressed with the response, but his question still hadn’t been answered. Hence, he couldn’t let this drop quite yet.

“Well, we can’t all be muscled baboons with arms the size of industrial pipe!” Haltmann didn’t have arms to speak of. Show a little respect, Dr. Klim!

“Hmm. Yes. Excellent singing voice. Do try to keep up with the changes next time.”

“Your optimism is... admirable. But you mustn’t neglect your studies, you know.”