A5 paper, tan colour, hexcode #C09F84 to be specific. Insignia, 35mm from right edge, 25mm from bottom edge, rotated 2 degrees off centre. Text size 11.5, black, font Valian Print, and for title size 34. Lines rearranged, letters perfectly reprinted on, not a trace of prior contents…
"Rye, I gotta say, why didn't you just do this for the first one?"
"Wh-what? Whadya mean?" Rye stammered, being dragged from his intense focus so jarringly he may as well have been thrown at a wall.
"I mean you do this every time, you make this really shitty, arts and crafts looking copy on your first try, and then pull off near perfection on the second" the woman clarified.
With a perk of his round grey ears Rye regained his composure and had leaned back on the chair, one fingerless gloved hand running its fingers through his dirty blonde hair, "you just need to get a feel of it, you have all the small details but you need to know how it all fits together Verana"
Verana scoffed her skin was dark but accented with scars and silver scales on her neck and forearms, "whatever you say paperboy. You know, I'm sure Mistral primary would love to have your skills with glitter if life under Gravel doesn't work out"
"That's paperboy Dipodomyto you young lady" his voice bringing a sense of seriousness and authority that was contrasted by his low buttoned floral shirt.
"See, you're already half way there to teaching a class, also young lady? I'm like what? 5 years older than you" she said through a grin as she put both her hands behind her mostly shaved head, she'd left the middle part untouched which she had drawn back in a long black pony tail that her hands sat under.
"Yeah age wise, but I'd say I make up for it with experience" he retorted as he turned back to his work, "and I ought to put that experience to use getting this done"
"Yeah, experience at the desk but I've got more going for me out in the field" she said, leaning in to embrace him from behind, eclipsing his smaller frame.
Rye felt almost a comfort from that, he leant back into the blue tank top that pressed against the back of his head. Her open white leather jacket draped over his shoulders before retracting like curtains from a stage, " Leaving the performer to his work".
Rye leaned over the bar, staring at the pair of documents, his head resting in his hands. He threw back the rest of his glass as a man with the voice of a century long smoking addiction approached him, "Aren't you a little young to be drinking little man?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong but weren't you the one who gave that thirteen year old his first drink?" Rye responded casually, almost distant.
"Yeah because that thirteen year old took out a fully grown man with a metal pipe. That seems old enough to drink for me" the man responded, he was dressed in a dark grey t-shirt with a half shredded brown jacket over it.
"Did you tell her?"
"Tell her what Gravel?"
"Y' know" the older man gestured to the two documents, one made of bright green stickers and printer paper while the other looking pristine and professional.
"…no, it's probably better that way" Rye said coldly as he ordered another drink.
"Gods above boy, I really really regret that whole 'you're an adult now and can make your own decisions' conversation" Gravel said, crossing his arms, the metal sewn into the jacket clinking.
"Well here we are, this your last goodbye?" Rye asked, not even turning to face Gravel.
"It doesn't have to be, not in the way that I'm saying you should stay" he stammered out the last part, remembering the past week of arguing. "But if you change your mind or, hey, maybe even when you graduate you're always welcome here"
Rye stayed silent. As Gravel left he managed to mutter out a "thanks" but didn't know if it was ever received.
A young blonde slumped down at the place next to Rye, his hair sagging down like a wet mop.
"Rough day?" Rye asked.
"Yeah, although you're not looking much better yourself" he responded in an almost whiny voice.
"Me? Never been better, so what's got you down?" Rye said, perking up and resting his hands on the back of his head.
"I just…I kind of ran away from home for a… thing and then that thing didn't work out and…yeah"
"And this thing would be…?"
"I uh…tried to enrol in the huntsman academy but they didn't let me in without training or some sort of 'authorisation'"
"Sounds like you didn't have the bribe money, its Mistral the only authorisation the guards actually accept is having money or your parents having it for you".
"I know, we hear about it all the time in Argus, the Atlas side likes to remind us why they're the better pick"
"Pffft, because Atlas is so much better. At least Mistral didn't uproot half the city and take it with them just so they wouldn't have to share air with the poors"
"Oh come on, that's a cynical way of looking at it. It was meant to be a symbol of hope and progress, I guess it just became easier to forget the people left in your shadow."
"Alright then little miss optimism, what's your plan now?"
"I...I guess I get enough money for that bribe, if I can't get in the legit way then... my sister always told me to fake it 'till I make it" the boy said with a sudden inflection of hope.
The gears began turning in Rye's head as his green eyes zeroed in on his first attempt, "Well, have I got the thing for you.