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Seflejo steered you away from the lunch queue and towards a secluded corner of the VIP area. There, a Tech-Priest with the classic Zlatino "steel man" modifications awaited, datapad clutched in his hand.
The Tech-Priest cleared his still-organic throat. "So, the psyker," he said, his voice laced with apprehension as he flicked through the documents. "Anon, is it?"
You offered a simple, "Yeah."
He shifted uncomfortably. "Alé, there's no pressure to take this internship, truly. You might be busy with other things, and..." he trailed off, searching for the right words.
Seflejo interjected with a confident smile, "We can definitely make time for Anon's internship. It won't be a problem."
The Tech-Priest shook his head slightly. "Uhm- It's not about disruption. It's about fit. The work is... demanding. Honestly, I wouldn't want to be a burden. Perhaps another guild would be a better match? A more... Imperial one?"
Seflejo rose an eyebrow. "...But Zlatino specifically offered Anon a spot. What changed?"
The Tech-Priest sighed. "Alé, I'm just looking out for the lad. My superiors might have their reasons, but I'm the one down in the grease, making things work. It's not a place for someone who just wants a shiny diploma and a pat on the back from the Schola. Don't tell me you want him stuck down there shuffling dataslates with your here, uh... special kids, do you? Zlatino really isn't for internships with this school. You know that."
"Special kids?" you mutter.
Sleflejo chuckled nervously. "Well, you're special too, Anon, hm?"
"The final call is yours, Anon," the Tech-Priest rumbled, his gaze fixed on you. "Perhaps another guild sparks your interest? Powerfuel is always looking for new people, or maybe Cogsmith Connect? I can put in a good word for you with the right people. Working alongside other Imperials just like you, now that's a much better fit, I believe."
The Tech-Priest, his metallic fingers scraping against the table, slid some printed papers over to you which briefly summarized those internship programs at Powerfuel and Cogsmith Connect.
Seflejo leaned forward, a touch too eager. "Anon, Zlatino on your record... it'll open doors! Trust me. Golden opportunity." The Tech-Priest punctuated her words with a deep, weary sigh.
You skimmed the papers, the weight of the decision settling in your gut. The Tech-Priest shuffled impatiently, his gaze flickering to the exit.
"Well," he rumbled, his voice laced with a hint of finality, "if you can't make a choice, perhaps we can revisit this another time. Omnissiah bless-"
"Hold on," Seflejo interjected, her voice laced with a barely concealed urgency. "We know how... *difficult* your scheduele might sometimes be, hmm? Anon, what are your thoughts? I really recommend making a choice now that he's here."
Gah, the tarot was still cold.
