Natasha R. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
latrodectus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2011-07-12 05:04 pm
latrodectus) wrote in capeandcowllogs2011-07-12 05:04 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
WHO: Natasha and Rapunzel
WHERE: Natasha's office!
WHEN: Tuesday afternoon, if that's alright?
WARNINGS: N/A
SUMMARY: Rapunzel comes for a job interview.
FORMAT: I started paragraph. but anything goes.
Here's the truth: Natasha didn't need a personal assistant. She liked to tell herself she didn't need much of anything. But she thought it would be nice, to have someone to help with the filing, the petty office tasks. Nice to have a little bit of company, too. Furthermore, Natasha was angry at the whole situation— she didn't like that the Porter ripped people from their worlds. And she didn't like that those same people were just expected to deal with it.
She understood why they did, of course. But that was the other reason she decided look for an assistant. Why she decided to look on the Network. It was hard to put yourself together in strange place, but sometimes, having something else to focus on helped. And she wanted to offer that opportunity, at least. If anyone was looking.
Her office was in a re-purposed townhome on the Upper West Side. From the outside, it was traditional, turn-of-the-century molding. Inside, the floorplan was open, and most of the walls had been torn down. Very modern and artsy, lots of hardwoods and glass. It had to look sophisticated to inspire the confidence of would-be investors.
WHERE: Natasha's office!
WHEN: Tuesday afternoon, if that's alright?
WARNINGS: N/A
SUMMARY: Rapunzel comes for a job interview.
FORMAT: I started paragraph. but anything goes.
Here's the truth: Natasha didn't need a personal assistant. She liked to tell herself she didn't need much of anything. But she thought it would be nice, to have someone to help with the filing, the petty office tasks. Nice to have a little bit of company, too. Furthermore, Natasha was angry at the whole situation— she didn't like that the Porter ripped people from their worlds. And she didn't like that those same people were just expected to deal with it.
She understood why they did, of course. But that was the other reason she decided look for an assistant. Why she decided to look on the Network. It was hard to put yourself together in strange place, but sometimes, having something else to focus on helped. And she wanted to offer that opportunity, at least. If anyone was looking.
Her office was in a re-purposed townhome on the Upper West Side. From the outside, it was traditional, turn-of-the-century molding. Inside, the floorplan was open, and most of the walls had been torn down. Very modern and artsy, lots of hardwoods and glass. It had to look sophisticated to inspire the confidence of would-be investors.
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Rapunzel took a second to smooth down the front of her dress, and another second to reach up and fix her hair, which resulted in a frown as she remembered it was still short and brown. She ran her fingers through the short hair.
Pascal was sitting on her shoulder, and he gave her a reassuring pat on the wrist and a smile. She smiled back, sucked in some courage, and then knocked on the door.
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"Come in," she said, without looking up. There was a chair across from the desk, large and not particularly comfortable.
Crap I am so sorry. I never got a notif for this!
"Uhm. Hello," she smiled, nervous but friendly, as she stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind her, green eyes flicking about as she tried to take everything in at once. She sort of drifted over to the chair and paused next to it, placing one hand on the back as she peered across the desk at Natasha.
"I'm here for the...job interview? I think that's the right word."
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She raised her eyebrows slightly, and in a neutral tone remarked, "You're supposed to wear shoes to these things. Usually." Natasha wasn't scolding, she was just stating a fact; but her natural demeanor wasn't exactly warm.
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"I'm sorry," she said, then frowned and quickly added. "But I don't ever wear shoes."
Well, she didn't.
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"Well, the city is a lot like Mother's tower, it was made of stone and rocks."
After a moment thinking about it, she tugged one of her feet up into her lap and wiggled her toes. The bottoms were a bit dirty, but didn't look too terribly worn. "I suppose it just doesn't bother me?"
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"It will bother other people," she said, without mentioning whether or not it bothered her. (It really didn't.)
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She set her foot back down on the floor, toes curling again, her hands folding in her lap.
"I don't even own any. I never have."
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"Not...really. I like not wearing shoes. They look so confining."
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"But I don't think shoes are what you came here to talk about."
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And yet...
"Shoes can be liberating?" Apparently she wasn't prepared to change topics yet. She just looked confused. "How?"
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"I don't remember what you said, I'm sorry."
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She knew that Rapunzel had trouble remembering most of their previous interactions. So she was trying to be patient, even if that wasn't her usual.
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"I...can do those things. I mean, you'll have to show me how first. But I'm a quick study!"
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It wasn't difficult work, and she was sure Rapunzel could do it, shoes or no. But this was a job interview, and, anyway, she liked asking questions.
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"I've never had a problem learning how to do something, as long as Mother showed me or a book taught me. Or the people here taught me. I can do it."
She sounded pretty certain, really. Rapunzel might not have understood many of the things in this world, but she knew it was because she hadn't learned how, not because she couldn't learn how.