An Evening For Sight Seeing [Liltotto, Sigurd]

"Uuuhuh," The lacking in eye contact or immediate attention would give a typical person the impression she wasn't interested, squeezing a lemon into her drink and swirling the glass a little before taking a drink, but she was at least trying to give this a chance. Apathy wore heavy on her shoulders, but.. She just didn't feel so keen to let it stop her.

"Which museum? Where?" The tired question tumbled from her lips, stressing herself to express interest.

"Ah. It's been a while," He started, placing his menu down.

Right now, he needs something. He'll just hide his hesitancy behind the age old excuse of being a bit forgetful. Thinking of what'd be believable, he settled on using an assignment from before as a mold.

"California. It was a small area, hardly anything memorable. If I recall, it was used by the demons as a regular hangout until they were defeated. Actually, it was Miss Duvalier who bought the property and paid for it to be restored. I hear she is a strong supporter of the Vandenreich's efforts."

He smirked to himself. Liltotto doesn't seem too interested, so she shouldn't dive too deep into his words. A quick lie that doesn't require much thought should get him through this. The smell of nearing food might help too.

Huh, couldn't even give a name? She guessed it was believable if the guy was here and there, she guessed maybe he wouldn't remember that one specific job. But throughout the entire interaction, she just couldn't help but feel like something about this was fake. The lack of passion or interest or willingness to give much away, guy was pretty scarce. Architecture couldn't be that uneventful to talk about, yeah? Or maybe he was some rich kid playing a joke on her...

"Yeah. Sure." The mentioning of Duvalier brought a small roll to her eyes, "I'm not super fond of big, connective shit like that being everywhere. I've worked mid-level for a soulless megacorp or two, I know what those bastards get up to. Y'don't get that big without popping some skulls or drinking baby blood somewhere along the way."

Her casual dismissal of the company made her opinion of them quite clear, drinking the water down to mere ice as the food came by, already going down on her onion rings.

"What's your preferred city aesthetic?"

"If I am to be honest, Japan's rural districts should be implemented more around the world. There's a homely feel that they give, and the air is of higher quality than other areas. However, my time in Germany was nice as well. Around the Holy Empire's domain, the churches are a sight."

He didn't deny anything she said about the Duvalier group. He knows how Claudia works, and he also knows that her daughters are somewhat a nuisance to her right now. Since he's not been bothered with them, he's kept zero track of what they may be up to. His knowledge is purely happenstance.

"If you do not mind me asking, what brings you to the City of Lights?"

Well, at least the guy seemed to have an idea of what he was talking about, she pondered as she started on her food. Despite her ravenous nature, she didn't tear through a meal with company in front of her, calmly and slowly going through her food with hardly more than a brief chew; she didn't feel like savoring her meal right now.

"Sure, they're nice, but pretty impractical for larger populations and high volume tourism," Those thoughts flowed from her as easy as water, "You'd need a more collective housing design philosophy for higher density populations, else everyone's going to be too spread out. If more places were like that, it'd more likely turn into something like the suburbs, and suburbs are a fucking nightmare of infrastructure because of how extended and noninclusive they are to like, businesses and whatever."

Head lolled to the side in thought, she'd spit out another take, "My opinion? Fuck trying to find a middle ground, just design places to be high or low density. Anything in between makes getting around a fucking nightmare. Also more native plants; people really think just slapping any kind of tree or pretty plant anywhere they want fixes shit. It doesn't. And yeah, the Empire's lookin' great, went by there to visit my guardian for a bit once recently."

Despite how slowly she went, her plates were already done, and she was ordering something else. With the man's question, her gaze drooped a bit,

"I came.. To.. Serve the Vandenreich," Her answer was simple and short. Fully, completely honest? She didn't know; it was a hard question to hear with her current frame of mind.

"What someone prefers is not always what's best for society. Everything has its up and downs, but it's all about making the best of what you have."

If he were to continue, he'd have brought up doing what his clients want. However, that's how every contractor works. As a mercenary, he does nothing but what he's assigned to do. That is all.

"A job, yes. We are all under some contract to perform, but it is safe to assume that you wish to be here. Many end up working where they hate. You don't hate it here, do you?"

His question is pointed and accusatory for a reason. There was a hesitancy in her answer and maybe he could learn something from forcing her to take center stage. At the end of the day, he is scouting around himself for weaknesses he could exploit later.

Her brow twitched with that question, the one simple betrayal of her true feelings on her otherwise featureless face. Although this was not a topic she wanted to talk about, she couldn't admit that to herself - there was no reason for this topic to be avoided regularly, she wasn't working under anything covert or important. She was just a good little soldier with nothing to hide, so she should answer as so.

"I don't hate it here," That was answered quickly and assuredly, "I could never hate it here. I want to be here. I've worked long enough in the shittiest of jobs to know I don't hate it."

"From one worker to another, your looks should match your words. I can love my job, but if I carry myself without any care, who'd ever know?"

He looked at her then, his eyes sharper than before. Aged beyond his years, he had a mature air circling him as his seriousness grew bolder by the second. Almost like shedding, the man across from Liltotto took hold of the atmosphere, a vice grip. Yet, it seemed exactly what one should do right now. Of course he's getting serious. It'd only make sense that he'd assess this situation with his upmost attention. It's not like he simply couldn't stand someone who seemingly had no pride despite spouting nonsense about it.

"People look in the mirror everyday saying they love what they do. However, if you look closely, you'll see the lies that have blotched their mind black. Don't be like them."

That sullen golden gaze steeled with the further prodding of the subject, that lackadaisical look to her suddenly growing purposed as he went on and on about something he didn't know - something he couldn't ever understand. Her hand reflexively tightened on her lap obscured by the table, she even stopped eating entirely, taken to slouching in the seat until that last sentence was uttered.

A sudden bang on the table would cut into the man's final sentence, "Shut up. Shut the fuck up."

Her tone was terse, the first bout of genuine profound emotion expressed this evening, but her trembling fist would loosen as that anger petered into despondency, "..You really are just fucking with me, huh?"

That gaze left his own, fixed on the table before her, "Real funny; ha ha, fuck with the weirdo chick, push her buttons, act like you give a fuck, hang some of daddy's money in her face while you're at it. I'm not stupid, I can see what you're doing."

That tense hand relaxed on the table with her fallen spirits, "...If you were just gonna dash and leave me with the bill, that's cool. At least be honest; I prefer it if people jerking me around were at least up front about it."

He struck a nerve, but the fact he did betrayed his charismatic character. The fact he didn't jump, shy away, or apologize would be enough to lay out that he's not a man spooked by anything before him, someone who's seen enough chaos for something like this to disturb him. Businessmen are scary.

"Run? Listen. You're probably older than me, but that's not always an advantage. I've seen it all in my short life. I've been through the shit and mud. My wealth is my own. I was involved with things that'd scar a human until they die early from the trauma. Now I'm doing something I want to do with my life."

He stopped, sighing. Being out of work always made his lips looser than normal. The fact that his words sway nothing in terms of his lifestyle always allowed him to speak his mind better, but he did not mean to dive into something so intense. Still, he can remember everything that led up to now, that allowed him to be sitting here, unbothered by anything: money, health, or love.

"I can tell you're not a weirdo. You're just tired. I'm paying for the meal, and afterwards, you can show me the rest of the city."