RP: Harsh Light of Day
Date : June 17th 2003
Characters : Blaise Zabini
Location : Astoria's flat.
Status : Private.
Summary : Blaise's luck just keep dwindling.
Complete : Complete.
Was it really this difficult?
Blaise sat on the sofa in Greengrass’ flat and stared at the table. She had left earlier for who knows where: he didn’t really care. More than a week had gone by since he had “moved in” here and despite his best efforts, not matter how much he loathed the thought, he had yet to find a job. It wasn’t as if he actually wanted a job, but he wanted money. And this was apparently the way ordinary people got a hold of it. It was so troublesome and time consuming. Blaise had walked around Annwn looking for any of those signs Greengrass had mentioned, those “Help Wanted” signs.
But there hadn’t been any. Then he had started looking outside of Annwn. However… everyone seemed to want someone with experience, more of it or to be specialized in an area. He was told to come back when he had that experience. But how was he going to gain any if they wouldn’t hire him in the first place? He didn’t want a job, but he had to get one. It was the first time in his life that he had gotten rejection upon rejection. Blaise sneered and felt like hurling something against the nearest wall, only… he would have to clean it up before Greengrass got home. He loathed having to follow another person’s rules. He had never bothered to before. Though, if he wanted to stay here until he got a source of income, he would have to play nice.
Blaise got up from the sofa and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from one of the cabinets and filling it with cold water. He downed half of it and licked his lips. What was he going to do? He needed money, and even if he had tried not to be too picky with his choices of job applications, he couldn’t help but be picky. As the person he was, Blaise did have certain standards, he wouldn’t be satisfied with just any job.
But… if things kept going as they were now, he would have to lower those standards. No matter how much he loathed it. Blaise’s fingers curled around the edge of the countertop, his nails digging into it. Again, he cursed his situation. It was irritating him to no end. And all he wanted was for things to go back to the way they were supposed to be.
With his pockets full of money and his pick of lovers when he wanted them.
Characters : Blaise Zabini
Location : Astoria's flat.
Status : Private.
Summary : Blaise's luck just keep dwindling.
Complete : Complete.
Was it really this difficult?
Blaise sat on the sofa in Greengrass’ flat and stared at the table. She had left earlier for who knows where: he didn’t really care. More than a week had gone by since he had “moved in” here and despite his best efforts, not matter how much he loathed the thought, he had yet to find a job. It wasn’t as if he actually wanted a job, but he wanted money. And this was apparently the way ordinary people got a hold of it. It was so troublesome and time consuming. Blaise had walked around Annwn looking for any of those signs Greengrass had mentioned, those “Help Wanted” signs.
But there hadn’t been any. Then he had started looking outside of Annwn. However… everyone seemed to want someone with experience, more of it or to be specialized in an area. He was told to come back when he had that experience. But how was he going to gain any if they wouldn’t hire him in the first place? He didn’t want a job, but he had to get one. It was the first time in his life that he had gotten rejection upon rejection. Blaise sneered and felt like hurling something against the nearest wall, only… he would have to clean it up before Greengrass got home. He loathed having to follow another person’s rules. He had never bothered to before. Though, if he wanted to stay here until he got a source of income, he would have to play nice.
Blaise got up from the sofa and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from one of the cabinets and filling it with cold water. He downed half of it and licked his lips. What was he going to do? He needed money, and even if he had tried not to be too picky with his choices of job applications, he couldn’t help but be picky. As the person he was, Blaise did have certain standards, he wouldn’t be satisfied with just any job.
But… if things kept going as they were now, he would have to lower those standards. No matter how much he loathed it. Blaise’s fingers curled around the edge of the countertop, his nails digging into it. Again, he cursed his situation. It was irritating him to no end. And all he wanted was for things to go back to the way they were supposed to be.
With his pockets full of money and his pick of lovers when he wanted them.