<div class="floatright">(http://img607.imageshack.us/img607/7121/y32e.jpg)</div><br/>It was three in the afternoon when Kaze finally woke, the discolored sun peeking its way through the window of her condo.  It wasn't that she was lazy (at least, she told herself it wasn't that), but everything important happened at night.  With mana to sustain her body and mind, she didn't need that much sleep, but why risk getting tired if she was lucky enough to get a job tonight?<br/><br/>As she hopped into the shower, she tapped the touchscreen on the wall for one of the few places she bothered to set up any non-AR screens.  Some people used drones, but she knew enough about the worthlessness of security to refuse to have any cameras in her bathroom.  When anything could be hacked, you couldn't trust anything with eyes not to look at you.  "Messages."<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=184489.msg8869386#msg8869386">Quote from: Sinestra on 08-09-2013, 09:37:26</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: courier;"><strong><em>"Job of a lifetime, Eye of the Needle, 11pm. Mr. Johnson's Party. Dress code mandatory. You owe me. Big."</em></strong></span><br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Her eyes widened as she looked over at the screen, taking in the sights through the steam-resistant glass.  The Eye of the Needle?  Seriously?  Her parents had taken her there once for her 18th, but what was being celebrated by this Johnson to be such a special occasion?  Or was this just someone so spectacular that they could just afford to rent out this place regularly?<br/><br/>"Inventory," she said to the wall screen as she inclined her neck to wash her hair.  "Dress code."  She didn't have a lot in that category, but she had enough.  When she looked back, the screen had her options listed, which was naturally nothing she wanted to wear but that wouldn't be easily solved by shopping.  Neither dresses nor high heels were designed for people who liked freedom of movement.<br/><br/>A suit would be perfect if not for the last warning of her mom.<em>You want to impress, you wear a dress.</em>She still didn't really understand why, but her dad was absolutely no help in the matter.  He didn't want her running at all, claiming how  they worked so hard and her mom even died so that she'd live in privilege and never have to worry.  Of course, it was also something that he held over her head whenever he could.<br/><br/>She finally selected a midnight blue dress and matching heels, leaving a belt for her commlink but designed to be worn without even a purse.  She'd just have to leave everything else in the Rover.  Maybe this would be the run that would make her dad finally proud of her.