- Job Details:
There were few things that displeased Suzhen more than hot weather, and Desierto was probably one of the worst places on Earthland to be, if one despised the heat. She had been drinking a lot of water, and losing much of it via sweat; as a matter of fact, the Dongxian could almost swear that she was exuding water from every single pore of her body. "If I were any more ignorant, I'd have thought I was melting," the Schor thought sourly, adjusting herself for the umpteenth time to see if in vain she could position herself in the way of some welcome draft of refreshingly cool air. Sadly, that wasn't to be. The air seemed oppressively heavy and sweltering, and even though there was a fan overhead, rotating with an awkward squawk at every rotation it completed, the ventilating device seemed to do nothing except blow an impossibly heavy air down onto the heads of those who sat beneath it. Most of the people here seemed not to care; for all intents and purposes, they were used to the weather. Suzhen wasn't. And adding to the fact that she had grown up in much cooler climes was the issue of her unforgivingly high metabolism. The Dongxian groaned and fanned herself with her left hand, a futile gesture, as she tried to ignore the man seated opposite her.
She was sitting in a slightly run-down restaurant, in an almost nondescript Desiertian town, seemingly perched precariously on the knife edge of nowhere, threatening to tip over the edge and fall into oblivion and out of memory, which was quite a veritable threat, thanks to the vicious desert sands, borne on the even more callous winds, which would have swallowed the town into the unrelenting maw of the desert, once human activity ceased to prevent the sands from claiming the place. As long as there were humans living in it, the town would persist, defying the desert, like the stubborn folk that lived in it. But in time, the desert would win. It always did. The man on the other side of the round table cleared his throat noisily, disrupting Suzhen's thoughts of the carnivorous desert, and bringing her green eyes to focus on the man's brown, which were shielded by tinted glasses, most likely to avoid the harsh glare of the sun. "How much longer do I have to wait, Miss Bai?" he asked petulantly, scratching his left temple, which sported a well-receded hairline. He looked to be in his fifties or sixties, and he was dressed like some fellow intent on taking a hike through the desert. Suzhen knew, however, that the man would not be the one hiking through the scorching sands.
"Patience, Mr. Zamir," Suzhen said coolly, rolling her eyes slightly. "If you check your timepiece, you'll see that it's not yet time for the meeting. So you may grumble or complain only when the hour strikes, not until then." It wasn't her fault that this fellow had insisted on meeting her long before the time of the meeting, and following her to the venue, as though he was afraid that she would probably run off into the desert and lose herself if he took his eyes off her. It wasn't like she really knew this Zamir fellow. All she knew about him was that he was older than she was, and that he was some sort of artifact curator. Suzhen was sure that she could scry more information from the man just by studying him, but it was difficult to pass the time in such a way, with all the heat and stuffy air about.
Zamir had made a job offer to anyone willing to take it, and Suzhen had made herself available. Apparently, the old man had also employed someone else to work alongside the Dongxian; whoever this fellow was, Suzhen did not know. Still, she hoped said fellow would be more congenial than the grumpy Zamir. It was this work mate that both Suzhen and Zamir currently waited for, although Suzhen was quick to keep reminding Zamir that this person wasn't late; they had all agreed to meet at this restaurant by four on the dot, and it was still some minutes to the hour. Still, deep down, Suzhen hoped this partner would come soon; she was beginning to feel that perhaps moving about outside was better than steaming inside the oven that people called a restaurant.
WC: 742
Last edited by Fraag on 1st June 2021, 6:43 am; edited 1 time in total