Immigration was always a necessary hassle, yet it felt futile for Faria. She knew that if there was any sort of danger, it surely was not from herself. She wished she could say the same for her partner, but... those underpaid immigration officers need not to know what they were dealing with. Everyone would sleep better without the hassle and the head ache.<br/><br/>When all was said and done, she went to meet her friend, who annoyingly waited as if she was seeing the punchline of a joke unravel. Faria was undeniably the more disciplined of the duo, both mentally and in appearance, yet she had a unconfirmed type-B curse that made all airport bureaucracy to take longer with her: Every officer had a couple more questions, every random check would happen to her and every time she had to sign her name, the pen would not work. While specialists assured there was no curse of that sort on her, repeated airport experiences showed otherwise.<br/><br/>Yet, no word was said there and then. She preferred the route of the dignified silence, as if not recognizing the joke was enough to make it go away. Faria tended to ignore the fact so intensively that it almost had the same effect as she laughing from it: A fact demonstrated by when she took her sunglasses from her pack, putting them on as if it was something fancy, and walking in a quick pace towards the place marked for the rendezvous with the contact.<br/><br/>If not for the airport air conditioning, the weather would be humid and vexing. The main hall was not particularly full, with the few stranded groups of people here and there. It seemed like just another airport: half business people waiting for a flight, half tourists incoming to enjoy the tropical weather or eco-tourism. To Faria, this was one of her last options to go as a vacation, as it had something that was bothering her since the flight landed: insects.<br/><br/>Yet, bugs were not the thing that bugged her the most, as her eyes searched for the contact. It would probably be someone who was uncharacteristically out of his place, or as she and Tatiana liked to call: Bad bald goatee generic movie villain. While profiling people was not something Faria was a fan off, the sorts that the Council had gathered had a habit of looking too much like one another.<br/><br/>Her clinical eye searched for details, anything that could indicate anyone who could have a connection to the Council. After a minute of being unable to find anyone who matched the profile, she noticed something quite hysterically strange.<br/><br/>A man was holding a piece of paper with the Shadow Council Logo. Badly printed on a A4 sheet of paper, black and white. It was sacrilegious to have such symbol in open daylight, but as soon as she was ready to complain, her eyes had a look at the man who was holding it. An unruly man that was wild to behold. Unfortunately, not the good kind of wild. His whole ensemble synergized to show that he cared very little about his appearance, a man that clearly had not been part, willingly or unwillingly, of modern society.<br/><br/>Dressed in what could only be described as some shorts with far too many pockets and a safari-like shirt that showed the lower end of his protruding belly, he held the plaque with the sheet with one hand and the disposition of someone who was only there because he had lost a bet. His attention was turned to his mobile, tuned to something that made him laugh with a lack of refinement that made Faria feel repulsed for a moment. A Latino man that clearly had his share of tanning under the sun, being considered quite robust, if most of his body was not hidden under a barrier of oily, slick and hairy skin. His chin had a beard, of that suspicious kind that grows only under the chin, complete with a mustached that Faria could not find a word more suitable then "porny".<br/><br/>Her eyes, filled with defeat, looked at Tatiana. Within a couple of seconds, she sighed, walking towards the manifestation of everything she did not want to deal with after a multiple hour flight.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"Hello,"</span>She said, with a feigned enthusiasm and politeness.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"You know, you should not be waving that logo like that, don't you think?"</span><br/><br/>The man took a moment to finish the video he was watching, holding a finger up on the hand that held onto the sheet of paper, before gurgling a small laugh at the content and turning his attention towards the two women. Despite looking like a gruff and unpleasant men, his smile was bright and contagious, as his tone of voice, welcoming the two women as if they were relatives.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Eyyy! Welcome! Que es esto? Do not worry! See, you found me, didn't you?" </span>His arms opened, as if he was about to hug them both, but to Faria's relief, they went back to the side of his body. To her unrelief, he started to stretch himself so that he could put his mobile on his front pocket, an action that made his shirt be pulled even upward, showing more of his hairy belly then she wanted.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Now, you see. Faria and Tatiana, Certo?"</span>He asked, still acting like an over excited puppy, but lowering his voice to a more personal level.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"I am your private driver, your private bodyguard and your private anything. Me llamo... Rodrigo!"</span><br/><br/>The brief pause before saying his name and the attempted seductive tone made Faria expect a quick guitar riff, not unlike those from dramatic reveals on latino soap operas. Alas, it did not come. And his charm was noneffective on her, especially since she was in a foul mood already from the uncomfortable flight.<br/><br/>The hall of the airport was noisy, with people walking with plenty of baggage and the announcements from the intercom, yet the silence between them was palpable. Faria knew that she had to respond, yet acknowledging that flirtatious tone was the death or her dignity.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"So, where have you parked?"</span>She asked, finding a middle ground that mostly only herself cared about.