>>18330148The young reporter entered the WWA dojo with the biggest smile she could muster. She looked around the reception. It was empty. There was only a fat woman reading a gossip magazine behind the reception counter.
> Hi! It´s my first day! I came here to sign up as a trainee!The old woman lifted one eyebrow, and without deviating her glance from the magazine she pushed a form on top of the counter.
> Sign here and there. Write your credentials.The reporter wrote her age and name down: Paule B. Coupe, 20 years old. Paule signed the form and before she could finish revising the details the woman picked up the form and looked at it.
> Any allergies?Paule shook her head and answered loudly:
>I never had an allergy but my brother is allergic to peanuts. When he was 8, his head swole so much that he looked like a balloon. After that, my mom never purchased peanuts ever...The woman shushed Paule and looked again at the form.
> Your name does not seem marketable, you will have to think of something else down the line. But it will do for the paperwork. You are now officially a WWA Dojo trainee, let me show you the dojo, and maybe you can join the next training session. Without any kind of urgency, the woman led the way to the facilities.
>To the left, the showers and the lockers.>Here you have the kitchen. Don´t eat what Lillith cooks.>To the right, the gym.>Here is the side training room. Someone´s sleeping there. Not like I care. But if you see her, tell her to book an apartment, we have a good deal with HALCYON.>Don´t enter that room, that is for the advanced courses. Ash Romero is pretty much hogging the space there.Paule could not help but get excited about the idea of Ash Romero being just at the other side of the door. Without a care of getting into trouble, she opened the door just so slightly to get a peek. The veteran was there stretching. She gasped in excitement before closing the door to catch up with the receptionist.
2/4
