Marisela walked along the waterfront of the city of Hargeon, scanning the docks as she walked past each one. She was here because she'd heard that the government of Fiore was issuing passports. She didn't know anything about her past, really, but someone had told her that she had an accent from, well, somewhere else. They hadn't been able to tell where. But to Marisela, that meant solving the mystery of her origins would probably involve traveling outside of Fiore's borders, and that meant she would need a passport.
She stopped, seeing a dock that was completely crowded with people. She scanned, and realized that at the end of the dock was an official-looking booth, with some sort of large sign beside it. She stepped forward a pace, squinting, and was finally able to make out the word "passport" on the sign. It seemed that she'd found the right place. She started forward, her feet making a soft thumping sound as she transitioned to the hard wood of the dock itself.
There were several people- she guessed they were security officers based on their high handed manner and their clothing, which looked almost like a uniform- monitoring the crowd. They were trying to herd everyone into a straight line.
"Let's get some order over here!" one of them shouted. "Straighten up, straighten up! Single file! Now!"
But no one was listening, and the crowd was as chaotic as ever, with people pushing and shoving to get to the front and get their passports. It seemed that no one wanted to wait in a line. Well, neither did Marisela, really. I mean, she had important things to do with her time, and if everyone else was pushing and shoving, she would never get anywhere unless she did too. And she had one advantage when it came to that- she was small and slim, able to weave her way through the crowd more easily than most. Not to mention that with how short she was, as long as she stayed in the middle of the crowd, the security officers shouldn't be able to see her. Everyone between her and them would block their view.
She began to put her plan in motion, squeezing her way through the center of the crowd. Occasionally, when a gap was too small or someone tried to block her way, she had to resort to elbowing people, and a chorus of muttering and angry shouts followed her, but then again, they blended right in to all the other similar sounds the crowd was already making. With her effective strategy, Marisela reached the front of the crowd in no time, waiting until she was sure none of the guards were looking before elbowing her way past the person at the very front of the line.
She emerged just as one of the government agents in the booth called out, "Next!"
She quickly walked up to the booth before anyone could object. The official looked her up and down, clearly bored.
"Name, age, and reason you want a passport?" he rattled off, clearly trying to speed through the process. Marisela couldn't blame him, given the crowd behind her.
"Marisela D'Avignon, 21, and I'm a mage from Silver Wolf."
He looked up at her last answer. "Guild mark?" he prompted, and she quickly turned around, tugging down the back of her shirt so he could see the mark on the back of her right shoulder.
"Alright," he said, and she turned back around, watching him input information into some strange magical machine.
A moment later, the machine spit out what looked like a small booklet. He handed it to her, then waved the next person up. She frowned, flipping the booklet open. Then she realized that that was the passport, complete with her information. She allowed herself a slight smile and she turned and walked away. The whole world was open to her now.
(Word count: 667/500)
She stopped, seeing a dock that was completely crowded with people. She scanned, and realized that at the end of the dock was an official-looking booth, with some sort of large sign beside it. She stepped forward a pace, squinting, and was finally able to make out the word "passport" on the sign. It seemed that she'd found the right place. She started forward, her feet making a soft thumping sound as she transitioned to the hard wood of the dock itself.
There were several people- she guessed they were security officers based on their high handed manner and their clothing, which looked almost like a uniform- monitoring the crowd. They were trying to herd everyone into a straight line.
"Let's get some order over here!" one of them shouted. "Straighten up, straighten up! Single file! Now!"
But no one was listening, and the crowd was as chaotic as ever, with people pushing and shoving to get to the front and get their passports. It seemed that no one wanted to wait in a line. Well, neither did Marisela, really. I mean, she had important things to do with her time, and if everyone else was pushing and shoving, she would never get anywhere unless she did too. And she had one advantage when it came to that- she was small and slim, able to weave her way through the crowd more easily than most. Not to mention that with how short she was, as long as she stayed in the middle of the crowd, the security officers shouldn't be able to see her. Everyone between her and them would block their view.
She began to put her plan in motion, squeezing her way through the center of the crowd. Occasionally, when a gap was too small or someone tried to block her way, she had to resort to elbowing people, and a chorus of muttering and angry shouts followed her, but then again, they blended right in to all the other similar sounds the crowd was already making. With her effective strategy, Marisela reached the front of the crowd in no time, waiting until she was sure none of the guards were looking before elbowing her way past the person at the very front of the line.
She emerged just as one of the government agents in the booth called out, "Next!"
She quickly walked up to the booth before anyone could object. The official looked her up and down, clearly bored.
"Name, age, and reason you want a passport?" he rattled off, clearly trying to speed through the process. Marisela couldn't blame him, given the crowd behind her.
"Marisela D'Avignon, 21, and I'm a mage from Silver Wolf."
He looked up at her last answer. "Guild mark?" he prompted, and she quickly turned around, tugging down the back of her shirt so he could see the mark on the back of her right shoulder.
"Alright," he said, and she turned back around, watching him input information into some strange magical machine.
A moment later, the machine spit out what looked like a small booklet. He handed it to her, then waved the next person up. She frowned, flipping the booklet open. Then she realized that that was the passport, complete with her information. She allowed herself a slight smile and she turned and walked away. The whole world was open to her now.
(Word count: 667/500)
