Francis approached the receptionist, leaning forward. He smiled politely before speaking. "Good afternoon. We're here for the meeting," he said smoothly.
The lady at the desk finished typing and glanced up at Francis. "Oh, Mr. Craw and Ms. Abernathy? Yes, they're waiting for you two in Conference Room B. Just go down that hallway, and it's the second door on the left."
Poppy followed, her footsteps loud against the tile floor. "Second door on the left, yeah?" she said, stopping at the directed place. (Is there anything specific you want about the nation they're going to visit?)
He nodded, opening the door and holding it. "That's right. This should be it." (Not that I can think of.)
"Thanks." She stepped through the door and found herself in a large room. The walls were painted a dark brown, and a large wooden table took up a majority of the room. Bookcases lined the room, their spines old and faded. There were quite a few people in the room, and they glanced up when Poppy entered. She hesitated, disliking the sudden attention, and she distracted herself by turning to wait for Francis to enter. (Alright! I'm just going to make a generic place, if that's okay.)
(Yeah, that's totally fine!) Francis followed her in, fixing his sleeves on the way. He stepped up to the table, and raised his eyebrow expectantly at the people as they looked at him.
"Ah, Mr. Craw. Ms. Abernathy. Please, take a seat." A man sat at the head of the table, his gaze sharp and stern. He looked to be in his early 30s, with jet black hair, and icy blue eyes. He studied them intensely as they sat, and waited for a moment before speaking again. "This is to be a discussion regarding your first ambassador mission," he said curtly. "My name is Owen Byerly. We plan to send you out to a nation that we believe is fairly close to being persuaded in our favor. You will be meeting with a Mr. Sutter in Opiren. Opiren has a large military presence, and your country is asking them to fight for you, seeing as your military is currently, ah.. indisposed."
Francis intertwined his fingers, listening with a slightly intrigued expression. "I see. Is there anything else we need to know?" he asked curiously, his back straight and poised in the audience of such people.
"Yes," Owen said, raising an eyebrow. "Your meeting is tonight, and Mr. Sutter has been kind enough to invite the two of you to dinner." He frowned and eyed them at the end of the table. "Clothing for the event shall be provided for you. I should also warn you, Mr. Sutter is going through a time of grieving. His wife passed away a month ago, and supposedly, he didn't take any time off after her passing. I have been told that he is fairly... temperamental."
Francis nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowing. Hopefully this wouldn't be as difficult as he thought it might. "Oh dear," he started. "I'm sure Ms. Abernathy and I will be able to handle this just fine, now knowing this information."
Owen nodded. "Good. The council and I will now continue our discussion without you. Please be back on the ship by 3. Thank you."
(Drew a fiancee in a rush, it's not great right now and I'll make a better one later.) Spoiler Francis gave a nod off appreciation. "Alright. We'll be on by then. Thank you for filling us in." He turned to Poppy, placing a hand on her shoulder and walking towards the door.
(STUFFY! I am continually taken aback by your talent. That's a really good one. She looks sneaky.) Poppy followed him and exhaled as soon as the door closed behind them. "Why do they keep calling us into these meetings?" she asked, slumping against the wall outside the room. "I feel like that could have been sent in a message. Or even just with a person telling us in passing."
(Thank you! I had to draw that one really fast because I needed to go somewhere without my computer, and I was getting frustrated cause something seemed off to me. But anyways, I could do a full body or really color it that well haha. But yeah, she's a huge butt.) He scratched his chin in thought. "Maybe so there's no miscommunication. That, and because sending messages is boring," he pointed out. "Things spoken are always more confidential, anyways. Let's go look at that market."
(I'm very excited to meet her!) A slow smile spread across her face, and she straightened up. "Yes. Let's." They exited the same way they came in, the warm air enveloping them as they stepped out into the sunshine. "I used to work in a market when I was younger," Poppy said contentedly as they weaved through the crowds. "I sold roses."
"Roses? That seems like they wouldn't sell that great, but I've never had to do that. How was business?"
She grinned at him as they entered the market, moving through the crowds. "I happen to be an excellent rose grower. And, you know, small town. So business was surprisingly good." She shrugged and paused to look at a young girl drawing quick sketches of people. "My father used to come down and give our customers advice, and they would go home and plant the roses that they bought. Four years of selling, and no one ever complained."
Francis looked around at all the people, moving away to dodge any people that got too close for comfort. "That's an alright way to make money. I'd plant some roses, if I had the option."
Poppy shrugged. "I enjoyed it. It was a big part of my childhood." She paused and glanced at a large, heavily shaded stand that advertised succulents, herbs, and other useful plants. "Want to go in?"
