2022-01-19: A Job for Job John

• Log: 2022-01-19: A Job for Job John
• Cast: Sayla Mass, Job John
• Where: Johannesburg, OAC
• OOC - IC Date: 19 January, 0096
• Summary: A meeting of old friends makes for new career opportunities... and a chance to do good for both.

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<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

       Johannesburg, for all it's fortress nature, is a very nice place to live. Most of the OAC is, really. It's warm, but not uncomfortably so, but the sun is fierce.

       Sayla Mass sits at an outdoor table of a cafe, a folded up newspaper on the table in front of her. She's wearing a short sleeve white blouse, with a tan business skirt and sandy coloured block heels, with her matching business jacket over the back of her chair. She's also wearing sunglasses and a wide brimmed hat, but her distinctive blonde hair is visible underneath it.

       Yes the sunglasses are the Quattro Bajeena special. Shut up. She had them first.

       Right now, she waits, taking a sip from a glass of water. She's been in town for days, sorting out permits and local charity laws and security. All the bureaucracy stuff. So this could be seen as another banal business meeting, or maybe coffee with a friend. Which is just how she wants it.

<Pose Tracker> Job John has posed.

       "Sayla."
       Job's steady voice is just as it was decades ago. His face is broader now, features once boyish now paternal, but his blond hair is just as full, bangs framing a sedate smile and eyes enriched by the experiences they shared.
       "You look great."
       After years on the civilian side of military work, Job looks comfortable in a relaxed fit white dress shirt, undershirt peeking up beneath the top button, and chinos, pleasantly unremarkable but at least not in a uniform. He used to wear his flight suits even on leave out of sheer indifference.
       Having approached from the plaza, he doesn't move to sit right away, conscientiously waiting to be invited, but unshoulders his duffle bag and at least sets it by the chair across from her.
       "I was at Side 1 to assist Londo Bell with some repairs," he says casually, "but I didn't get the chance to see Captain Noa. He's got some lively kids under him now, though. Hard to believe I was ever so young myself."
       He's dreamt of those days so often they might have been dreams to begin with.

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

       Hearing her name, Sayla looks up and smiles, taking off her sunglasses and standing up to offer him a hand to shake, then offering for him to sit.

       "It's been a long time, Job." Sayla looks much as she ever did. Older, sure and tireder but still the strong woman she was on the White Base. You might even miss the sadness. "You've aged pretty well yourself." Sayla teases a little, but sits when Job does, and signals a waiter.

       That comment, however, makes Sayla's eyes look away. "Bright's been... fairly wrapped up in command. I haven't seen him or Mirai in a few years." Has it really been that long, she wonders? Now's not the time. "...I'd hope they were a little older than we were, at least. Or under better circumstances." Sayla sighs, and looks back up when the waiter arrives with menus, laying them out for the two, then disappears to give them time to make their decision. Sayla glances over it, and seems to have already decided what she wants. "I shouldn't kill the mood," she says, tapping her fingers on the menu. "The mocha is good here, but they have access to fresh beans so I think just about anything's good. My treat."

       After a few moments stalling, Sayla finaly gets to the point. "So, you were serious about branching out from the Federation?" She knows he is, Job's here, but still. It never hurts to ask.

<Pose Tracker> Job John has posed.

       Job's handshake is equal parts firm and gentle, suggesting it's something he once went out of his way to diligently practice -- as always, making up for a lack of intuitive finesse with a quiet earnestness.
       "Thanks," he says, after a brief but telling pause. His tone doesn't change, but he's actually blushing a little. "Somehow, after everything, I've still got all my hair." It's not too late to tempt fate, man, be careful.
       As he sits, still blushing faintly, his gaze studies Sayla's face. She really does look just as she did. No, she might be even more beautiful now, somehow more real to him than she ever was before. Did they ever sit down like this, just the two of them? He wishes they had. Maybe--
       But this isn't the time for thoughts like that.
       "Definitely better circumstances," he affirms heartily. "I'm confident of that much. A mocha, then, if that's what you recommend." That easy deference is classic Job, too. "I appreciate it."
       He's regained his composure fully by the time she pops the question.
       "Yes," he replies straightforwardly. "I'm proud of what we've done with the Formula series at the SNRI. It's been an honor to work with such incredible minds." Some of the scientists working on the biocomputers within the Formula series are certified geniuses. Job just brings what they create together and makes it work behind the scenes. "But to keep innovating, I need to continue broadening my horizons."
       He pauses, hesitating.
       "You... reached out at a good time, Sayla," he finally continues. "I think I was getting lonely without realizing it."
       He pauses a moment more before his eyes widen slightly, realizing that his comment might be potentially misinterpreted.
       "There aren't any other vets from White Base at the SNRI, after all."

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

       THAT causes Sayla to let out a little laugh, the joke causing her to relax just a enough. At least she hopes it's a joke. "You could do worse, certainly." Still, she doesn't acknowledge the blush, looking away for some reason, but maybe it was just to get the waiters attention. Either way, she orders- two mochas- and returns to the conversation.

       "That's something, at least." The Federation still haven't learned about pushing kids in to battle. Still, she listens as Job talks about his work at SNRI, and broadening his horizons.

       And loneliness. She gets that one.

       "I can help with the broadening horizons, at least. Our work is a little unorthodox, and you're going to see more than just Mobile Suits. Even if we've got a lot of rebuilding to do." Another glimpse of sadness. "But while Mao do good work, I'd like to have someone in-house. We can't keep relying on AEUG hand-me-downs and unsold destroids. I think you'd do a lot for us. Would you be willing to look into rescue and disaster repair designs as well?"

       The coffees arrive, and Sayla takes a deep inhale, before taking a sip. Africa was one of the few places doing well. "I think I know what you mean, though. There's so few of us left." She sighs, deeply. "It was bad enough losing Ryu, and the Lieutenant Law in the war." She seems less cut up about Sleggar, to be fair. "Then Hayato in Dublin... Before that, even little Katz. I heard Vammas was on Mars when the Jovians turned up, but they're still working out out the living from the dead. No one's heard from Marker since 0083, either." One event is.... conspicuously not mentioned. As are several people that Job wouldn't realize it hurt her to lose. "Still... At least some of us are still around." She says, trying to cheer herself up.

<Pose Tracker> Job John has posed.

       Job is grateful that his bout of self-consciousness is allowed to pass without remark. No doubt Sayla has more admirers than she could care to count.
       "Absolutely," he affirms. Job keeps his eyes steady on her own and catches the sadness there. He can hardly imagine how much responsibility Sayla bears. But his response, as it ever is, is to exude reliability, keeping his tone and expression moderate. "I've been thinking that the advances in maneuverability and miniaturization we've made with the Formula series would be applicable in a search and rescue context, but that's been outside my wheelhouse at the SNRI. I'll make that a priority."
       He listens in silence to the litany that follows. His eyes waver briefly at the mention of Ryu. A noble sacrifice Job has never forgotten, one whose memory makes his heart swell even now. He stays steady, his gaze only flickering once more at a name that isn't mentioned. He hesitates, but only briefly.
       It's not his place to bring up that name.
       "Have you seen Kai recently?" is the first thing he says after she tries to cheer herself up. "I looked him up a little while back and I couldn't believe my eyes. When did he discover white linen suits?" Job smiles a little. "Here I am, as dull as ever. Well," he amends, "I think I've gotten a little smarter. But I'm sure you could still trick me if you wanted to."
       That smile broadens, his eyes gentle. There may be a lot about Job that hasn't changed, and that very unchangeability may be the heart of him. But he never used to be able to deliver jokes like that.

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

       Sayla nods. "I'm not saying it's exclusively your goal, working with us offers you some freedom in what you do, and some... interesting technologies. But I appreciate your willingness to try it." When Job talks about SNRI's development, she looks a little relieved. Not everything should be focused purely for war, after all.

       And then, thankfully, Job offers an offramp from despair. "Oh. I have. A few months ago in fact. We bump into each other fairly often." Still she smirks. "I swear the man invested in experimental technology to keep that suit clean, because I can't imagine Kai owning more that one suit."  She shakes her head. "...Still, you'll probably run into him more with us, provided he doesn't get in trouble on some scoop." Oh that sounds like it could be a story for another time.

       And then, Sayla lets out another small laugh. "It's been seventeen years, Job. I've got new tricks now." If Job's not going to show hard feelings over it, Sayla will indulge him that. It's a little weird that they have so many light memories of an awful three months. "But it sounds like you're on board, and I'm more than happy to vouch for you." She picks up her jacket, and reaches for something in the inside breast pocket. It looks like a deck of playing cards, of which she pulls out one and slides it to Job, face down, as she leans in to talk quietly.

       "Use that only with private terminals you know are secure. It contains communications protocols, and how to get in touch with our ships. It will also identify you to other members." When he flips the card, Job John will see it- the King of Hearts.

       "Job John, welcome to the Shuffle Alliance."

<Pose Tracker> Job John has posed.

       Job tracks the visible relief on Sayla's face and he, too, feels relieved. Normally he would just say what's on his mind, but even with a fellow vet of White Base, he is unsure how to articulate what he wants to say. He too feels the strain of his life's efforts amounting to nothing but mightier weapons.
       Is that why he met the friends he did? Is that why he had the chance to see Amuro in action? Is that why they died and he lived? So he could hammer their memories into a better gun?
       As someone who believes implicitly that a war can be just, who does not regret fighting and killing to protect what he held dear, even having thoughts like this makes his skin crawl. So Job doesn't quite know how to express it, not yet. But, looking at Sayla's face now, he starts to think that maybe it's OK if he doesn't know what he's thinking. Maybe all he has to do is entrust a comrade with these thoughts, so they can figure them out together. After all, he's always been good on a team.
       Well, some other time, perhaps.
       "I can't imagine Kai owning even one suit," Job wryly replies, "so I couldn't tell you. Hopefully I'll run into him soon, so I can ask." He doesn't say more than that. The fact is, he and Kai don't particularly get along. Their personalities are like water and oil. But a comrade is a comrade, or so Job thinks, a mentality that probably only irritates Kai more.
       His eyes follow her hand as he reaches for her jacket.
       "Magic tricks?"
       Job allows himself one last witticism as Sayla slides what appears to be a playing card across the table, before deciding not to push his luck any further. He knows he's no comedian. But seeing Sayla's face light up with laughter is hard to resist.
       "Glad to be a part."
       He takes the card and smiles again.
       "And thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule," he adds. "You've been planning a benefit, right? I'll aim to have good news for you on the engineering front once you've wrapped it up."
       He'd join the party, but he didn't bring his white linen suit.