by Narrator » Fri Oct 31, 2014 6:33 pm
For the most part the impressions she is getting are fairly mundane and boring. A faint chemical smell as it's being printed and stacked with the others, someone who looks like a typical London cab-driver picking them up, driving them to an extremely fancy looking building and delivering them to yet another servant who places them on a table after inspecting them to check the quality. They sit there for a while though eventually a woman wearing a flowing gown walks over to pick up one of the cards and inspect them herself. She seems to carry herself with a certain posture that gives her a certain air of dignity. As she flips over the card in her hands a man in his late twenties or early thirties walks in, dressed much less classy though still in a white shirt with a slightly opened tie. He has short brown hair in bit of a side-swept hairstyle.
"Happy with your useless paper slips? We really should have just send those electronically." the man asks.
"At least try to have some, class. We don't invite people per email like some kind of desperate venue spamming their clientele."
"Get with the times. Are they ready to be sent out at least?"
"Indeed they are." the woman answers, placing the card back with the others. "And praise be to the powers that be that we still have enough people who remember how to things properly." she shakes her head as she walks across the room, the young man following her.
From there on not much more happens beyond the invitations being eventually picked up by a courier.