First Impressions

My adviser used to have to remind me to write down my experiences. Nowadays, I feel that I have no time for such aggravating luxuries, but I find that no matter how scatterbrained I'm feeling, I always remember to log on to my holoscan and write a few words.I was feeling an alarming amount of excitement today; surprisingly enough. Today, if you are wondering, was the day I was to meet my future employer. Of course, I shouldn't have expected so much, considering my uncanny habit of wandering into strange situations.In the morning, I set out from my hotel with my black satchel, and nothing but an address on a small piece of worn parchment. Of course, I could've taken the tunnels, as they are much faster, but I decided to take a more scenic route by paying for a busfly. The city is pretty, I have to admit, with its tall buildings and architecture reminiscent of ancient structures from the twenty-first century.After strolling around a small little park next to an enchantingly quaint cafe for about half an hour, I arrived at the hidey-hole of Solixis. It was quite ... how do you say, disappointing. I would've thought that the most powerful syndicate in the world would have been a bit more intriguing. As it was, all I saw was an iron gate circling an old, black building.I suppose I was feeling slightly indignant at this point, but rather nervous. All sorts of questions flew about my mind. I walked towards the building warily, and pulled open the heavy glass door, with the assistance of a golden knob, adorned with a roaring lion at its tip.The building was silent. Its high rafters were penetrated only by gleaming skylights that pulsed with vibrant energy. The long, echoed corridors were layered with what seemed to be a variety of luminescent, sparkling hazel tiles. I tapped them with my knuckles gingerly. Marble. I was slightly surprised: marble had become very rare these days, and was only found in the most prestigious establishments across the continent. I shrugged my shoulders, and allowed my blond hair to ripple down my back. Perhaps there was a receptionist of a sort. I continued walking until the sound of holographic beeps met my ears.I turned towards the sound, walking faster now. As my curious eyes met the harrowed form of a speckled man in his late thirties, I ducked behind a cream-coloured pillar. He was a rather boring specimen: one of the types who believe themselves to be a most valuable asset. His long, delicate, clear-painted nails were trimmed into round circles, and shone as though he had just finished buffing them. His shaved chin was jutted out slightly, and his plump lips pursed in concentration. I almost laughed at his expression.The tag on his navy pantsuit declared him a Mr. Ivan Fallingbrook. I stored this little trinket of information in my mind as I stared at him from behind the pillar. A flash of light above his head temporarily distracted me for a moment, but when I blinked, the suspicious shine had disappeared. With a determined glance at the Fallingbrook fellow, I walked up to the desk."Excuse me, Mr. Fallingbrook." He didn't even bother looking up at me. I frowned mentally."Excuse me," I repeated more loudly. This time, his eyebrows twitched.I shook my head in aggravation. If he wasn't going to talk to me, then I wouldn't bother attempting talk to him. I glared at the patch of pink surrounded by thick, brown curls as I propped my body against a nearby wall. I stood, and waited; minute after minute. Finally, I broke the silence."Excuse me," I repeated with annoyance.He finally answered me, wariness keen in his beautiful blue eyes. "What is your business.""I'm the replacement, Aille Morangbro."For a few seconds, he was silent. Perhaps I should have mentioned the name of the woman I was replacing? But he finally answered, "I see."I could tell he was one of the prodigy doubters - one of the many scholars that don't believe that children can be as intellectually inclined as adults. After about five minutes, though, he finally fought through his thickness and pride by plucking up a small phone and dialing for the syndicate.For a few seconds, my first impression of him swept away. As he gazed at me with something like sincerity from below thick eyebrows, I believed he felt apologetic about our earlier conflict. This thought was quickly diminished when he had the gall to warn me, Aille Morangbro, about the danger of Solixis. As though I were but a child!There isn't much more to say, other than the fact that he bade me 'go away' and told me to return the next day. I have to admit, I have got a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. If all the fellows at Solixis are half as stuffy and thick-headed as Fallingbrook, I'll be very sorry for taking on this client indeed.