Summary: Riven is job hunting a little while after she's been betrayed by Noxus and finds a promising ad at the newspaper.
Riven wasn't sure what she had expected when she had spontaneously decided to answer that succinct newspaper ad. Truth be told, the white-haired Noxian defector had no idea what modeling even meant or summarized, but the plain printed text was promising a steady pay and didn't mention any other job requirements other than her being a young healthy woman. So perhaps modeling had something to do with physical labor? Otherwise why would her future employers be so adamant about only hiring individuals of 18 to 23 years of age?
Red eyes lower on the torn piece of paper held in her right palm, before Riven confirms the address written on it one last time and then proceeds to raise her other hand and ring the doorbell.
The female Noxian warrior remains perfectly still, staring at the wooden barrier in front of her with the discipline of a war veteran. The door had a peephole after all, so her future employers might already be observing her, trying to acknowledge any signs of weakness on her part. Justified reasons for them to give the job to a more disciplined employee. Porters and loaders were usually required to remain standing for long periods of time after all and so it wouldn't do for Riven to exhibit the behavior of a lazy person that exerted so easily by breaking her posture.
The former soldier greets the smiling man that opens the door with a small formal nod of the head, before she lets the visibly giddy man lead her inside her new workplace.
Riven is led into a medium-sized, barely furnished room that's brimming with hex-tech equipment. Weird electronic lenses with flickering red lights glaring at her from all directions as the wandering exiled swordswoman sits down on the comfortable looking cream-colored couch as she is instructed. The Noxian warrior proceeds to glance neutrally at the buzzing assortment of hex-tech eyes that are curiously enough placed facing her form.
"Those are cameras," Helpfully supplies her smiling interviewer as he proceeds to take a seat next to Riven. "They record things. I am supposed to record all of the interviews. Do you have a problem with that?" The smiling man asks and the exiled swordswoman shakes her head because she knows that is the right answer.
"Excellent!" Grins approvingly the bald interviewer as he lets his beady brown eyes rove across the warrior's body appraisingly. "Before we start, I will have to see an ID to make sure you are not underage and wearing your mom's make-up or something."
Riven nods and the grinning man blinks owlishly for a few seconds when the Noxian Exile presents the man a pair of old scratched soldier dog tags. The giddy man pauses for a moment, eyeing Riven as if she is pulling a prank on him only to almost instantly flinch away from the veteran soldier's intent sanguine gaze.
"I see, so uh.. Riven, is it?" Her future employer smiles at her unconvincingly, probably put-off by her being a former Noxian commander, the white-haired woman deducts even as she instinctively nods her head upon hearing her name.
"Affirmative." The pale woman replies, eyes solely focused on the unnerved bald man.
"And just for confirmation's sake," The smiling man drawls absentmindedly as he awkwardly proceeds to show the dog tag at one of his flickering Hex-tech recorders. "How old are you, Miss Riven?" The interviewer's smile widens as he returns Riven her damaged dog tags.
"I've seen twenty winters." Is the pale swordswoman's instant reply, prompting another small pause from the paunchy bald man. The interviewer wets his lips in thought, appearing to be contemplating something important and then shooting a weird look at the door as if he is expecting someone to burst in the room unannounced and handcuff him. When nothing of the sort happens after a whole minute or so, the now visibly sweating man returns back to interviewing the unflinching Noxian war veteran.
"Tell me a bit about yourself, Miss Riven. Why do you think you would make a good model?"
"I know how to handle a sword and my hand-to-hand skills aren't that bad either."
The bald man grins. "You know how to handle a man-blade, eh?" He winks at the exiled deserter. "That's surprisingly confident and straightforward coming from a woman your age."
"Perhaps, but it is the truth." Riven replies, albeit a bit confused by the grinning man's wording. 'Man-blades?' The albino swordswoman wonders. 'Why was there such a strange distinction between manmade swords and weapons made by Yordle or Vastayan blacksmiths?'
"Do you have any hobbies?" The grinning bald man asks completely unaware of the stoic swordswoman's musings.
"Training myself to exhaustion and mastering Ki energy manipulation." The former commander replies.
"Is that something like the Ionian chakra technique for overstimulation of sensitive nerves in one's body?"
"Yes, I have used it with stunning results." Riven replies proudly, surprised with her new employer's knowledge of martial arts and fighting styles.
The bald man whistles appreciatively at her reply. "Damn and I thought that Sarah, my girlfriend was wild! Is there anything that you dislike? Anything at all? Do you have any problems with giving blowjobs for example?"
Riven merely shrugs. "My unit wasn't exactly proficient with explosives, but I know when to drop down low and when to brave the shrapnel showering me."
"Oh, ho, ho! This one is feisty!" The paunchy man laughs, not even listening to the albino deserter's explanation at his point, but merely nodding his head in excitement with a huge lecherous grin plastered on his face.
"You are hired! Come here again early tomorrow morning." The raunchy man yells, and the Noxian warrior allows relief to flood her being even if her stony expression remains unchanged. The two shake hands and the former Noxian commander looks at the kind bald man right in the eye.
"I won't let you down." Riven promises sincerely, unwittingly moved by her employer's willingness to hire a wandering Noxian defector such as herself.
The interviewer laughs good-naturedly as he taps at her thigh. "Oh, Miss Riven, of that I have no doubt."
Notes: Mere seconds after Riven left Katarina drops from the ceiling. "Hire me too! If the worthless traitor can do this modeling thing then I can do it too and do it even better! My Voracity used to be legendary where I came from before I had to learn new moves and I can handle more blades at once than Riven would ever dream of!" Mister Smith's lecherous grin nearly spills off of his face.