Martin sighs, not at the question, but at the memory of looking through his own welcome packet. Sitting at Greta's table and laying out those contents with steadily building dread until faced with the utter horror of the bloody impossible photo ID. It is a long distant memory, but certainly one he is not like to forget.
"Map of the city," he begins with an air of memorized recitation, "money — Darrow has its own form of paper money and coins, similar to American, but not the same. You'll have a bank account, so all the paperwork with that, a card and a checkbook. The account comes with 1200 in it and they give you 300 in cash broken into a sensible series of smaller bills. It's all very sensible." He says that with some dry bitterness. "Keys. One to your new apartment, to which you've automatically been assigned, and one to your mailbox at the city post office. There'll be a card with your new address on it. If you have a mobile phone, you'll find it's swapped to Darrow's service, and if not, the packet will have a phone for you as well."
He thinks that covers everything. Apart from the worst thing.
"And a photo ID," he says. "With a photo of you. As you are right now. Which was, personally speaking, my least favorite part."
(no subject)
Date: 2024-05-29 12:41 pm (UTC)"Map of the city," he begins with an air of memorized recitation, "money — Darrow has its own form of paper money and coins, similar to American, but not the same. You'll have a bank account, so all the paperwork with that, a card and a checkbook. The account comes with 1200 in it and they give you 300 in cash broken into a sensible series of smaller bills. It's all very sensible." He says that with some dry bitterness. "Keys. One to your new apartment, to which you've automatically been assigned, and one to your mailbox at the city post office. There'll be a card with your new address on it. If you have a mobile phone, you'll find it's swapped to Darrow's service, and if not, the packet will have a phone for you as well."
He thinks that covers everything. Apart from the worst thing.
"And a photo ID," he says. "With a photo of you. As you are right now. Which was, personally speaking, my least favorite part."