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[Ryan Harding]

Ryan heard the news and to say she was excited was an understatement. There was a vacant spot for the Praetors and they were looking for a replacement. This was Ryan's chance. Her time had come to prove herself and her dad that she was worthy to take her spot as Praetor. Granted, she wished that Cheyenne wasn't in the other seat, but beggars couldn't be choosers. So off she went to the Principia. They weren't taking applications, but Ryan knew that a few good words under her influence, she could snag that position in no time. She wasn't paying attention to anything or anyone as she marched up the Principia to speak to the people who would determine the next Praetor.

[Arthur Drake]

Ah, the choosing of a Praetor. Just when his week had started to get a tad dull, this gem had landed on his table. The man would be lying if he'd said he wasn't looking forward to this. The time to make a move was now. Not to obtain the position for himself, of course. That'd just be stupid. Who in their right mind could possibly want that kind of attention and obligations? That said, however, a Praetor on his side might just prove a worthy investment. And his friends on the Senatorial side of the fence, though they lacked a Praetor's outright authority, especially in Camp could very well add a few whispers to the mix and relate the deliberations back, allowing one as resourceful as this son of Mars to draw up his game plan.

The information would make its way to him sooner or later, but being there in person was a joy he could not miss. This was the time when all the would-bes stepped out of their respective holes and marched up these stairs in vain attempts to prove to the world how they were the most deserving. And, among these desperate souls wanting to try their hand at subtlety, a suitable candidate might just appear.

"There goes the first one, stepping up to bat." - the man remarked to himself, seeing a figure beelining into these halls. It took a moment before he recognised her, but it made perfect sense. Ryan Harding, huh? Stereotypes never cease to amaze. - he thought. Drake took a moment to situate himself and wipe the grin that had formed on his face when he'd spotted hers. This woman, was the very image of a chip on the shoulder. While she'd never actually vocalised her desire, truthfully she never really had to. What better time to make himself known than right now? Add a dab of pressure to the mix, and maybe get to pick up the pieces later.

As she approached his position, too far into her own world to recognise anyone, the man's voice would sound. Not too loud, but just loud enough: "Knock them dead, cap. I'll be rooting for you." - the man said with the same choir-boy smile he tended to sport, half-raising a fist in a sign of support. This sentence, though seemingly innocent, clearly conveyed the idea that the man knew exactly what she about to do - which was as far from aboveboard as one could get, just about - and that this piece of information may be used against her in future dealings, as well remind Ryan that, should she fail to get her way through this route, his services were at her disposal... for a price, of course.

As for how much of that the daughter of Venus could infer from those nine simple words, however, depended on none but herself.

[Ryan Harding]

Back straight. Head held high. Maybe she didn't have the Praetor position yet, but it didn't prevent her from acting like one. Fake it until you make it as they would say. She kept her vision forward as she made a beeline towards the door that held the committee looking for the new replacement Praetor.

However, she didn't make it all the way. She was snapped out of her little world by a comment. Knock them dead, cap. I'll be rooting for you. She stopped to glare at the person who said it. Arthur. She loosened up a bit as she stood a little straighter. “Thanks,” she said as she nodded her head towards the door. “Has anyone else gone to talk to them?” The last thing she really needed was someone else to add to her competition.