An Evening For Sight Seeing [Liltotto, Sigurd]

That defeated look on her features hardly seemed to change until he had made his intent and view of her clear, that heavy expression lightening a tad. He didn't recoil with apologies or argue back with some frivolous point; it gave her the impression his question of if she truly liked her job was genuine. Now she just felt like an asshole for snapping.

"..The problem isn't me liking or not liking my job," Starting back up again from the top, her hands clasped together in her lap in a more relaxed posture, "It's that I think i'm not doing well enough in it. And, not doing well enough in my job could cost me home, life, and normalcy..."

It felt strange to be even this open about it with a stranger, but shutting someone out entirely was an entirely shitty thing to do. She still needed to work up the ability to talk to and apologize to Natasha...

"My age? Yeah i'm older than a lot of people, whatever. That doesn't make me any better or wiser, if anything it just means i'm more set in my stupid ways. Being around long enough to see more garbage doesn't make me any special - the only difference is what kind of garbage. Like, what, did you expect me to lord that over you or something?"

"I brought it up. It is easier to read a person when you have validated information," He cleared up, adjusting his glasses.

"Simple examination with the information present would relate to a possible estranged upbringing. If you are a member of the Vandenreich, that would allude to you also being a Quincy. Your age suggests possible connections with the Vandenreich before-"

He paused, realization that he may be bringing up forgotten trauma. However, Liltotto may see now what kind of individual she's actually facing. His ability to dig for information, put it together, and conceive possible answers for equations with missing parts would come off as somewhat surreal. Even if he's wrong, his knowledge of things isn't what you'd expect of a architect, but faces are deceptive. He's already revealed he's been involved in things that were unsavory.

"I guess it'd be pointless to share what I'd do if feeling not enough..."

His eyes turned from her, gaze lost out the window as bystanders continued on their way. He scoffed a bit before a small begrudging smirk broke his nerdy exterior. His mouth moved, but his words were so quiet that none could truly hear them.

"But yet, no one else cares but yourself."

"I guess." She slumped a little.

With his speech becoming far more calculating as opposed to the awkward disposition he displayed previously, it did make her more alert of him. If he wasn't screwing with her, then something else had to be going on, she felt her nerves fray as the back and forth progressed. Something about this guy was not being presented in a way a typical person would... It wasn't fake, per se, but it didn't feel like his most natural self was being laid to her.

"..What is this, a psychology session..?" She'd mumble to herself as she heard him out, eating her food as another plate came by. What a weird amount of things for some architect guy to think about, but.. He did imply he was doing something prior to that; what WAS he doing?

Her gaze narrowed to slits as she noticed that little murmur to himself, "What was that? You're a grown man, don't mumble."

"I am a grown man," He countered, not giving her any more or any less.

His food was slowly being eaten, if per chance, someone forgot he had ordered too. Her earlier warnings were founded to be true. She is gluttonous, but it only further enforces his earlier notion that she has hunger related abilities. He couldn't help but wonder the specifics. The specific of things are what an architect focuses on. One wrong brick placed and any building will come tumbling down.

"I do apologize. As with the finer details of fashioning a lawn or a person's kitchen, come the habit for looking deeper than necessary or wanted."

He turned his gaze back to her, keeping his face smug, confidence tugging the corners of his lips. Sigurd, for lack of better terms, feels satisfied with himself. It is rare for him to smile, but his commitment to the role is blooming. Now, he only needs more information about the city and he'll feel like today was successful. Any future assignments pertaining to the Vandenreich become easier if she gives him what he asked for.

"Y'know, for an architect, you're real shitty at keeping your deets together," She shortly interjected with the end of the man's sentence, still calmly going at her food, "Y'think I haven't noticed you this entire time? Dodgy, vague, evasive, and pretty prodding of me."

It was quite the turn from what she was presenting, having calmed herself and decided to do her own digging, "You don't talk like a guy from that kinda profession. Guys from lines of work like that would've dropped at least one or two stories or takes. You talk like a guy who's only got a surface level understanding of that shit - no passion, all thought. Y'might have been around but you don't read like you think about it all too deep."

That smug aura really sold her that there was more going on than she was immediately allowing herself to believe, "Enough about me, let's talk about you - So what is it you're actually doin' with your life? Just some Duvalier lackey sticking your nose about, or something else?"

"You are insightful, but there's not much to know. I am a lackey, one who was involved in shady businesses. You could say Claudia gave me another reason in life besides crawling through filth. That's why I'm so fond of good architecture. After so long of seeing nothing but dingy holes, you learn to appreciate beauty."

The truth is a fickle thing. It's easy to play with and make what you want. Even without telling her everything, he's given her nothing but facts. He was involved in shady businesses, and he does work for Claudia. Painting his words with what he defines as artisan tastes is easy. Dancing around the truth was never his style. He hates it with a passion, but he's come to hate a lot of things he is forced to participate in. Why stop simply because of personal feelings? You'll never get far in this world.

"Truthfully, I am scouting potential businesses that could use a corporation to help them through any financial troubles."

Another truth toyed with until barely recognizable, but Sigurd has no qualms with getting his job done in this fashion. Feelings on the floor, he bore nothing for anything around him. It is life, sadly.

"I don't believe you."

Arms crossed, gaze fixed on him, she said that with full confidence. There was no immediate specification of what she meant, rather it was almost like she wanted to see how he'd react to such a vague statement of disbelief before going on,

"When money's the primary focus, everything eventually goes to shit beneath the top. It's a crunch for the biggest number on a growin' hill of bodies. Sure, you could say working with some rich jackass gave you new meaning, but is that shit really what you wanted? Are you really happier licking boots and doing dirty work?"

The thought struck a cord with her, though she didn't make it immediately obvious of how she personally was experiencing it, "I've worked in positions like that before, that shit's fucking soul-sucking. Your crummy ass boss demands more of you, and you gotta whip anyone under you into doing shit way past their limits. Y'gotta make shitty decisions because 'that's what's making us more money' even if it means that employee you're letting go is gonna fucking starve without this job, or you're screwing up general public infrastructure for the squeeze coz money's being valued over sense."

Finishing her latest plate, she didn't quite meet his gaze yet, "The Vandenreich ain't perfect, but it's been far better than anything i've done shit under before, and I can say right now if I dared to put another one together with everything i've done, my resume would probably run on for five pages. There is a focus on bettering people's lives instead of anything money-related or grandiose..."

That last word made her expression harden a bit.

"So tell me the truth. Are you happy with what you've got? If you say no i'm just gonna assume you're lying, because no normal person would enjoy a job like that, and you don't read as a psychotic freak."

"Wouldn't it be better to question if I'm a lackey or not?"

He took off his glasses, keeping his eyes down as he grabbed a wipe from his shirt's pocket. Cleaning the clear surface, he looked up at Liltotto, amber eyes darker than ever before. He kept his smug expression though, his lips taunt as he seemed overtly pleased with the direction of their conversation.

"You assume what's being demanded of me is something I cannot handle. You assume that I'm some pawn to be crushed at my boss' leisure, but I assure you, I'm irreplaceable. We, as a race, are as diverse as they come. Believe me when I say I have absolute no regrets."

His glasses were placed on as he shut down Liltotto's whole assessment by reaffirming that he is content with life. Nothing can change that, nothing at all. His eyes held nothing but straight confidence in himself and his abilities. He's not questioning his worth like she is.

"I live for myself and only myself. That is why I am capable of anything and everything. Are you capable of bettering the people's lives? Bearing that weight on your shoulder? Are you content?"

"Nah, think I got a good idea of where you are on the pyramid."

That look in his eyes didn't read as a cocky cutthroat business man to her like the rest of his face communicated. If she was being stared down upon like unsavory vermin that scurried across his path, she felt like it'd come across that way for certain by now. Though, with Sigurd's assurance he was irreplaceable, she couldn't help but gently chuckle - not at him but rather at the idea.

"Yeah, i've heard that line from plenty of managers and senior employees not long before they were let go because they were some kinda inconvenience to the machine. Anything's replaceable to something driven by mindless growth, even if it's down to letting go of the skilled person for someone less capable if it means they can pay them shittier. Even if you've got power; you really think they can't just get another guy if you prove to be inconvenient for even the tiniest thing?"

But of course, she let the conversation come back unto herself, tilting her head to the side with a brief sigh, "'For myself, only myself'... Loneliest sentence you've said all evening. I used to think that way, that was what made me fuck off from society for a while. But I was fucking miserable, and it took running into my guardian again to realize how miserable I was living that way- sorry, did I say living? Surviving. Surviving's a better word for that... That... Wasn't living."

Her eyes shut in reflection of that time, feelings indescribably melancholic, but she still went on, "I... Want to. I want, to be able to handle all of that. For so long I was treated lower than dirt that I just coasted on that... But i'm in a better place now. I... Could be better. I... Should be better... But i'm so fucking stupid sometimes..."

"I'm trying my hardest to be better, if not for me then at least for them, coz I got nothin' else without them."

"That's just it. I make myself irreplaceable. We can assume everyone's place in the world, but what sits before you isn't a man who is worried about a pyramid. What sits before me is a woman who's too worried about her place."

He doesn't care to indulge in why he's so confident. He does his job well, and if one person doesn't want to pay, their opposition will. It is an ugly world, but he understands how to work it. Once everyone knows of you, only the goodie two shoes are left ignorant. However, he's no motivational speaker. He's not even a man who cares about the people around him. Sigurd, for better or worse, is a complete outcast, but it's that fact that makes it all too easy to relate to the blonde... Even if that relation is founded on the opposite spectrum.

"If you say you belong, then that's that. Helping people is a route, but don't forget the one who matters the most, the one capable of doing anything they put their mind to. You."