|Iphigenia (strongborn) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2012-12-30 08:29:00
|Entry tags:||achilles, iphigenia|
WHO: Iphigenia & Achilles
WHEN: Saturday afternoon
WHERE: The cafe where Iphigenia works
WHAT: Hi there, baby. Remember that time I got slaughtered?
WARNINGS: Mentions of murder/sacrifice, probably little else.
Iphigenia was a hard worker and didn't resent minimum wage employment. Someone had to do it, so why not her? Bosses always liked her. Iphigenia was prompt, she didn't complain, she didn't slack off, she never needed to be taught much. She always came to them with a mostly bare resume, but she never disappointed. (She had listed before, for her own interest, all her jobs on a resume. It had been very long. But she looked like a teenage and she didn't physically age: these things meant never staying in a job for more than a few years and never working her way up the food chain.)
She'd been in her latest job for almost a year, waitressing at this little Manhattan cafe and living in an apartment not far from it. It was a life.
Saturday afternoons were always busy, but the lunch hour had finished at least. She took orders and brought food and generally tried to make the whole process go smoothly. Iphigenia happened to glance aside while she was writing down an order for a couple and caught the eye of a blonde man sitting at one of the tables across the room. She recognised his face before she felt him.
Iphigenia had always had trouble feeling other immortals, not until they were right in front of her most times. She had thought, however, they if she should ever meet this one again that would be different. She wondered if he'd felt her, if he'd noticed her before she'd noticed him.
With her pad of paper in hand and zoning out a little from the order she was supposed to be taking, Iphigenia gave a small warm smile to Achilles.