She was two minutes late into the assessment room. It wasn’t entirely her fault (wheelchair access into the main building at Resolution was great, but once inside, it was far less accommodating) but they’d still mark her down as tardy since technically it fell to her to plan for her needs in advance and arrive early. And they would factor it into her job placement. Fantastic.
Ivih had been dreading this, and it was already going downhill fast.
The eldite proctor was friendly and smiled with the sort of warmth that reminded her of a school teacher, but the furious speed of her stylus on the tablet in her hand made Ivih question if she was giving the wrong answers to questions that she had been gently told had none.
If the tests and documents she’d already submitted to Resolution were a pat-down of her entire personhood, then the introductory questions were an interrogation that she fidgeted through, tugging at the ill-suiting business casual clothes that her mother lent her. They ran through her parents’ marital status and occupations, her own marital status, hobbies, special education in advanced sciences, arts, or history if applicable, previous jobs held if applicable, infractions on her record if any, strengths and weaknesses, how she had resolved conflicts in the past, if she preferred to be on a team or work solo, etc., etc., etc. It was time to put all those “soft skills” that had been drilled into her head to use.
When the question of what job Ivih desired was raised, at least the proctor laughed at her joke that she'd given up her dream of being an Arcadion fighter. No, Ivih told her, she could instead settle for something that still fulfilled her need for action, but was less physically intensive and could flex with her need for medical time off. Bartender, adapter, club host something along those lines, even though Ivih knew damn well those jobs never came from official assignment channels. The only way anyone got into those roles was through connections and under-the-table agreements. Still, it wouldn't hurt to push her assignment in a favorable direction by answering honestly.
Or so she hoped, as the proctor tapped away madly on her tablet with something of a forced smile.
It was the physical assessment that Ivih was really dreading. Vision test, hearing test, blood pressure, lift this, push that, run on this treadmill and more, all in rapid succession. She'd picked a day forecast for low lightning activity and her physical therapist had ramped up her training regimen in preparation for this, but it wouldn't change what she already anticipated. Her physical results were under the average for most, and the wheelchair was the anvil topping on a cauahepya shit cake.
The proctor, for a mercy, was kind and matter-of-fact about it. She even mentioned that Ivih was stronger and more tenacious than most of those with levin sickness that she’d previously assessed. A mental note was made to buy her physical therapist a drink. Gods bless that boisterous hhetsarro gym rat. At the very least, she could rest comfortably in the knowledge that she’d never have a manufacturing job in the lower floors (even if their benefits and soul bonuses were enviable).
After a couple hours of poking and prodding at the entirety of her, mentally and physically, it ended with an unceremonious "That's it! You'll hear from us soon!" and Ivih was ushered back out into the hall, free to go about her day.
She wheeled at a crawl into the kitchen, ate something, then spent the rest of the afternoon face down in bed.
—
Rolling up to Resolution for the results of job placement options was a dread-filled, bleary-eyed affair at 8:00 in the morning. The shetona at the desk, Taawa, was a personable woman with dark, pretty black coffee eyes and a head-tilted lackadaisical smile that spelled trouble. Her banter finally eased Ivih into the order of the day, and a tablet was set out and turned for her to read, which Ivih poured over with deep breath.
Office manager, administrative assistant, receptionist...
All clerical work. She blew her hair out of her eyes with a disappointed laugh, her shoulders dropping.
Taawa smiled in that heart-meltingly sweet way and tapped a painted fingernail on one of the job titles.
"What about this one? Job placement consultant. The pay's decent, the benefits aren't bad, and hey, we could be coworkers."
She winked. Oh no.
Of course Ivih accepted that job without a second thought.
Gar was one peculiar looking teenager; green from head to toe, sharp fangs, claws, large pointed ears, and a long furry tail.
Thankfully, for him, he was quite fond of attention. While not all the attention was positive, he supposed it was better than going completely unnoticed. Plus, he wouldn’t give up his ability to shape shift for the world.
Today, however, the attention was positive.
While in the library, a young child had recognized him from his many appearances on animal-related television and was currently having the time of his life as Gar put on a little show for him.
“I always make room for koala-ty time with my fans,” the changeling chuckled in his koala form before shifting once more.
“A little birdie told me you like animals~” he flitted around as a hummingbird.
“Now, I don’t want you to think I’m getting into any monkey-business here, but,” he pointed to the child’s book as a spider monkey, “I bet I can point out a book you’d really like!”
Gar proceeded to return to human form and point out an old favorite he liked to read as a child.
The child thanked him and promptly checked out the book, leaving with his mother soon after.
Gar waved goodbye, smiling widely.
Today was looking to be a great day~
@chicorycoffeeandmemories
Summary: Reader and Peter have had a little to drink and the reader is a little bit tipsy. Peter, in an attempt to look after her, is trying to sneak her into his home without alerting Aunt May. Reader, however, has something else on her mind.
This is pretty short guys, as I just wanted to give a taster of what my writing is like, but I hope you like it! Plus this is from Peter’s POV not the reader’s, so a bit different to your average imagine!
“Do you think cactuses get lonely?” Her words were slurred somewhat but oddly sweet in a way. Or, perhaps, they would be if he weren’t concentrating on trying to sneak her into his apartment at 3am without alerting his aunt. In an attempt at a quieting response he gave her a low chuckle and put a hushing finger to his lips.
Ignoring this gesture entirely, or maybe just not understanding it in her inebriated state, she hooked her finger around his raised one. With a careless wind of her arm she clasped her hand around his and let them fall to the side entwined. Heat rushed up his neck at the innocently intended gesture but the volume with which she spoke next distracted him from any budding giddy nervousness. “I think they do, people stay away because they’re all prickly.” A huge, and much too loud, emphasis was placed on the last word and he would have wondered about it if he weren’t so distracted by the key he couldn’t seem to find.
“Do you know where I put my key?” He whispered rather pointlessly, she was drunk enough to be lamenting about cacti, he doubted she would remember where he had put his key.
“Peter,” she grumbled unhappily, “you’re not listening!” Lips pressed together in a pout she practically stamped her foot and looked him over with wide eyes.
“Sure I am,” this was at least partially true he reasoned. “You want to hug a cactus?”
Rolling her eyes she let a dramatic sigh pass her lips as she released his hand and held hers close to herself. “No, I don’t, that’s the point!”
Watching her look dejectedly down to her feet, and feeling a little disappointed that she had dropped his hand, he finally pulled all his focus onto her. “Er, what?” He was admittedly confused by the entire drunken conversation.
“Well, would you hug a cactus?” As she asked she leaned heavily against the wall and let her eyes slip shut just briefly.
Weighing his options for a moment, unsure what answer she could possibly be looking for, he scratched the back of his head. “No?”
Sluggishly opening her eyes she looked him over with a frown, “but what if the cactuses were really really lonely?” Straightening her arm she pushed herself from the wall but her balance betrayed her and left her swaying towards a fall. Springing forward he placed a cool hand on her arm, steadying her. Apparently not noticing her near fall, she continued, “would you hug them then?”
“Yeah, cactus spines aren’t that bad... I guess.” The uncertainty dripping from his tone went unnoticed by her as she allowed her lips to quirk just slightly upwards.
“What about me?” Eyebrows raised he felt his mind swell with confusion. “Wait, what?” Had he missed something in the conversation? What did she have in common with lonely cacti? “People say I’m prickly,” she told him lowly, a tinge of disappointment laced through her words.
Fiery? Sure. Blunt? Maybe a little. But prickly? He sure didn’t think so.
“I don’t think you’re prickly,” he told her earnestly. Lips twisting unhappily she looked away from him. Not sure at all what to say to make her feel better, having never attempted to comfort an upset girl before, he stepped forward and hugged her.
She was incredibly warm in his arms and he could feel her relax against him. Pleased that she seemed to be feeling better he squeezed his arms around her a little tighter - still careful of his superhuman strength. The action had served both to reassure her and to finally give him a cause to show her affection. It felt as though they had crossed some invisible threshold. Somewhere past a platonic friendship and a step towards the romance they had both timidly desired.
Gesturing to his left arm he shot her a warm smile, “see, no cuts.”
She giggled then, a sound he had never heard pass her lips before, and his smile widened. They remained that way for a long while, smiling dumbly at one another in silence.
The door opened suddenly and his Aunt appeared with tired eyes and a muttered “what the hell?”
Panicked he turned to face her with a half smile. “Hey, May,” he greeted with an awkward wave.
Just post the 700 screenshots instead of needing to bait her wtf?! ICE???
Too much effort, this was faster and got the same, if not better, results. Also, I need to keep ammo in the chamber. You guys haven't seen the worst of it unless Ependa and Dog wanna drop the slave porn. I would post it once I audit the server, but even I don't want to fucking see it.
words mean things other than their dictionary definitions. your intention may not be to hurt or to insult or to offend, but consider the multiple meanings and why they exist before you say what you’d like. always remember that words came from something.
