It wasn't as though she's got a job yet, of course. She'd considered joining the Enforcers, but thinking back on how that went last time, that's... likely not a great idea, when taking everything into account. She's never had a great draw to the arts, a personal garden is enough farming for her, and nothing else that she's considered has enough of a challenge to it, as absurd as that feels. What can she say? She likes to solve a puzzle, to get the satisfaction of a problem sorted out, a mystery uncovered, one way or another.
So, when an advertisement looking for "investigators, go-getters, and problem solvers" got posted to the board, all strange spellings (and passive-aggressive placement to the other local detectives' ads) aside, she couldn't find a reason not to look into it. All this free time of hers is starting to lose its charm, anyhow.
(Besides, she's done worse, job-wise. At least it's not the Magnus Institute.)
Maybe she should've expected, from the advertisement, to be getting interviewed by a little monkey-man. It's a good thing she's had all these years not to look fazed by these sorts of instances. The call ahead of time keeps his voice from being too much of a surprise, but that voice out of this little guy is going to take some getting used to. All types of worlds out there, apparently.
"Coffee's great, thank you," Basira closes the front door behind her, moving to drop the bag off her shoulder beside the chair. "Hope I'm not running too late. The snow's made getting anywhere take longer than I've been expecting it to."
no subject
It wasn't as though she's got a job yet, of course. She'd considered joining the Enforcers, but thinking back on how that went last time, that's... likely not a great idea, when taking everything into account. She's never had a great draw to the arts, a personal garden is enough farming for her, and nothing else that she's considered has enough of a challenge to it, as absurd as that feels. What can she say? She likes to solve a puzzle, to get the satisfaction of a problem sorted out, a mystery uncovered, one way or another.
So, when an advertisement looking for "investigators, go-getters, and problem solvers" got posted to the board, all strange spellings (and passive-aggressive placement to the other local detectives' ads) aside, she couldn't find a reason not to look into it. All this free time of hers is starting to lose its charm, anyhow.
(Besides, she's done worse, job-wise. At least it's not the Magnus Institute.)
Maybe she should've expected, from the advertisement, to be getting interviewed by a little monkey-man. It's a good thing she's had all these years not to look fazed by these sorts of instances. The call ahead of time keeps his voice from being too much of a surprise, but that voice out of this little guy is going to take some getting used to. All types of worlds out there, apparently.
"Coffee's great, thank you," Basira closes the front door behind her, moving to drop the bag off her shoulder beside the chair. "Hope I'm not running too late. The snow's made getting anywhere take longer than I've been expecting it to."