Sighing, Sayuri rose from her chair, making the object make a loud scraping noise on the tile floor, "I'll go... if no one else wants to." Anything to get away from these idiots...
The old woman grinned at the girl, "Wonderful, wonderful! He's right over there..." The lady pointed at a large, muscular young man taking long drags from a cigarette.
"Oh... that one, the guy who looks like a hobo?" The girl confirmed, raising an eyebrow. There was no point in acting polite anymore to these weird people. It wasn't like they would suddenly start fighting monsters together or anything- and, fortunately, none of them seemed to have enough money to be any of her father's clients.
"Yes, yes..." was the reply, along with a deep sigh.
Sayuri shrugged, "Okay, fine." Geez... were the others scared of him or something? If that thug was going to try anything... she was planning to just deliver a hard kick to the balls and run for it. With that, she stalked outside, turning sharply and facing the dude she was supposed to be 'bringing in'. Actually getting a full-on view of his face and not just a profile one, Sayuri decided that he didn't look that much like a hobo after all- more like the violent teenager who picks fights. After all, he did have a mohawk and tattoos... and that, to her, meant 'bad person who you should not talk to'. Eyeing him up and down pointedly, Sayuri crossed her arms, and, awkwardly flicking her head towards the table where her half-eaten cheesecake still sat (and, of course, the old lady, who was staring at her), mumbled, "Hey. Uh- that old woman wants you to go in."
The old woman grinned at the girl, "Wonderful, wonderful! He's right over there..." The lady pointed at a large, muscular young man taking long drags from a cigarette.
"Oh... that one, the guy who looks like a hobo?" The girl confirmed, raising an eyebrow. There was no point in acting polite anymore to these weird people. It wasn't like they would suddenly start fighting monsters together or anything- and, fortunately, none of them seemed to have enough money to be any of her father's clients.
"Yes, yes..." was the reply, along with a deep sigh.
Sayuri shrugged, "Okay, fine." Geez... were the others scared of him or something? If that thug was going to try anything... she was planning to just deliver a hard kick to the balls and run for it. With that, she stalked outside, turning sharply and facing the dude she was supposed to be 'bringing in'. Actually getting a full-on view of his face and not just a profile one, Sayuri decided that he didn't look that much like a hobo after all- more like the violent teenager who picks fights. After all, he did have a mohawk and tattoos... and that, to her, meant 'bad person who you should not talk to'. Eyeing him up and down pointedly, Sayuri crossed her arms, and, awkwardly flicking her head towards the table where her half-eaten cheesecake still sat (and, of course, the old lady, who was staring at her), mumbled, "Hey. Uh- that old woman wants you to go in."