There was nothing better than waiting in endless queues. No, nothing at all, ever. Because this was exactly where you wanted to be at all times of the day.
The amount of people that were here, waiting in line to collect their passports, was absolutely mind-boggling. The massing throng of humanity was going insane as the background noise lifted higher and higher; people huddled in groups chatting to one another in an attempt to pass the time while they waited for their turn to approach the counter. The process wasn’t exactly long; get your photo taken, update your information-- much easier with an iLac when half of that could be done-- and that was your passport completed. In theory, it wouldn’t take forever, unless you had a group of 4 or more people. And, judging by most of the groups here, that was almost universally the case.
Not that Lyra could blame them; they wanted the opportunity to go on holidays and things like that to far-off lands. Why not, if the opportunity presented itself? It was obviously a good decision if you could get your hands on it. Lyra, though? All she wanted to do was get her hands on a passport so that she could go and work in the other countries if jobs popped up that way and she felt she could. It was yet another recommendation to her that she knew she should take when it was given to her.
So here she was, in line, waiting. Two hours later.
I’d say something to keep you entertained, but I feel like you responding to me will just make you look crazy.
Well, he wasn’t wrong this time. Rhett was planning on at least being entertaining. In theory.
So, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to point out all the cute boys for you, and you’re going to tell me why for some reason you just aren’t attracted to them right now.
“...hate you,” Lyra mumbled. Gods, this was going to be a long day.
Some time later, poor Lyra was exhausted from having to field questions about why the tall, attractive almost supermodel with perfect cheek bones, black hair and piercing green eyes just did not quite do it for her (probably a little too superficial for her liking), why the nice guy with a well-manicured beard and a really sharp suit on wasn’t quite enough (probably too good for her) and why the, she had to guess, really cute sports player just wasn’t enough (no, he probably exercised a lot and while devotion to a sport was admirable, just wasn’t what she wanted in a partner).
However, exhaustion aside, it was finally her time at the counter. Rhett, meanwhile, was recovering from the fact that he had to deal with the diatribe of a woman who was simultaneously unsure and insecure about herself and wouldn’t date because she didn’t feel like she was good enough.
Oh, boy do we all feel that.
One photo later, one bunch of questions sped up by the fact she’d filled it all in on her iLac a few hours earlier, and there it was. Her Fiore-issued passport. Mission accomplished.
The second she got out of the building?
“I have never had someone ask me about this many boys. That was exhausting. You’re the worst.”
Love you too, kid.
The amount of people that were here, waiting in line to collect their passports, was absolutely mind-boggling. The massing throng of humanity was going insane as the background noise lifted higher and higher; people huddled in groups chatting to one another in an attempt to pass the time while they waited for their turn to approach the counter. The process wasn’t exactly long; get your photo taken, update your information-- much easier with an iLac when half of that could be done-- and that was your passport completed. In theory, it wouldn’t take forever, unless you had a group of 4 or more people. And, judging by most of the groups here, that was almost universally the case.
Not that Lyra could blame them; they wanted the opportunity to go on holidays and things like that to far-off lands. Why not, if the opportunity presented itself? It was obviously a good decision if you could get your hands on it. Lyra, though? All she wanted to do was get her hands on a passport so that she could go and work in the other countries if jobs popped up that way and she felt she could. It was yet another recommendation to her that she knew she should take when it was given to her.
So here she was, in line, waiting. Two hours later.
I’d say something to keep you entertained, but I feel like you responding to me will just make you look crazy.
Well, he wasn’t wrong this time. Rhett was planning on at least being entertaining. In theory.
So, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to point out all the cute boys for you, and you’re going to tell me why for some reason you just aren’t attracted to them right now.
“...hate you,” Lyra mumbled. Gods, this was going to be a long day.
Some time later, poor Lyra was exhausted from having to field questions about why the tall, attractive almost supermodel with perfect cheek bones, black hair and piercing green eyes just did not quite do it for her (probably a little too superficial for her liking), why the nice guy with a well-manicured beard and a really sharp suit on wasn’t quite enough (probably too good for her) and why the, she had to guess, really cute sports player just wasn’t enough (no, he probably exercised a lot and while devotion to a sport was admirable, just wasn’t what she wanted in a partner).
However, exhaustion aside, it was finally her time at the counter. Rhett, meanwhile, was recovering from the fact that he had to deal with the diatribe of a woman who was simultaneously unsure and insecure about herself and wouldn’t date because she didn’t feel like she was good enough.
Oh, boy do we all feel that.
One photo later, one bunch of questions sped up by the fact she’d filled it all in on her iLac a few hours earlier, and there it was. Her Fiore-issued passport. Mission accomplished.
The second she got out of the building?
“I have never had someone ask me about this many boys. That was exhausting. You’re the worst.”
Love you too, kid.
~~~
WC: 584 | Total: 584 / 500
