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Welcome to the world of Fortuna, a land of fantastic proportions. This is an original fantasy roleplay that takes place in a world developed over nearly a decade of work and collaboration. We aim to encourage all participants to have a hand in the stories of the characters here, and the world around them. Your choices are key - so make them with pride. You decide who wins the wars, you decide who becomes King, the world is ours, and together we will bring it to life!
Post by Zota Vanros on Jan 31, 2018 14:27:01 GMT -7
The year was off to a rather disappointing start. Zechariah was away in Artavia, Nicole had gotten herself arrested - and apparently broke out of Magei with a pair of vagabonds - but at least he still had Edgar. As much as Edgar would rather spend his time in lavish spending, he was still reliable for the Jewel Shore Expedition. However, Zota was still wary of the company Edgar kept. The boy needed to be kept on a leash.
"I cannot afford to waste yet another year," Zota said to himself. He had extended an offer of opportunity, perhaps even reconciliation, to Loark Voden, and he simply rejected him. Zota would have been insulted had he expected better of Voden. Zota had made the offer, and if Voden was not going to accept, then he was simply accepting his place among the garbage.
Even still, Zota could not ignore that he needed able-bodied workers. It was merely two months until the Coin of Fortune. The timing needed to be perfect, and if he could not begin his expedition to the Jewel Shore in two months time, then he would have to wait yet another year. And he refused to even attempt the expedition until he was certain all the pieces were in place.
For the moment, Zota Vanros was concerned with the people. The riffraff who labored away in the mines below. For the next few few days, he would interview his workers, and judge those worthy of assigning to the expedition. The official statement, of course, was that this was primarily about evaluating each individual's future in the company in the new year. However, a few had abused the privilege of meeting with him personally to complain about their conditions, and the absurdly long hours. They reminded him of children, begging for their hands to be held. They had chosen to work in the minds, yet they demanded "lenient" hours so they could spend time with their family, or indulge themselves in hobbies. Did they think that this job was something they could simply weasel out of?
Zota looked at the file of the next person to be interviewed. The workers he had interviewed thus far were sorted into one of three piles: Those who would be welcomed to join the expedition, those who would simply continue to work in the mines as they always had, and finally, the ones who had forgotten their place were being arranged for transfer to Sector D. The second category was perhaps the most numerous, while the first and third were at an even split. He was almost curious where this girl would end up.
Natalia Anjali was not a name Zota recognized. Perhaps it had come up in passing once or twice, but that told him all he needed to know. She was just another member of the riffraff. This interview would not need to last longer than necessary.
As Zota heard a knock at the door, Zota set the file aside on his desk. As he opened the door, he to had lower his head for a moment to meet the eyes of the girl standing before him. If only she cared to meet his. With a light sigh, Zota welcomed the girl. "Natalia? Please, come in."
but the flesh will have it's way. and i'm already gone. i'm gone.
[attr="class","ohlovebody"]It was not normal to be called in to speak with Zota Vanros. In fact, it was so not normal that Natalia would go so far as to say it was like some distant nightmare she'd had once. Something easy to forget because it didn't happen. Something easy to remember because it elicited from her a physical response of dread.
Yes, dread. It was horrid and all-encompassing, and lead directly into her anxiety. What had she done to be summoned here? Something had to be wrong. The statement had said they were being 'evaluated for the new year', but she had never attended an evaluation with him. Her supervisors would evaluate her, and they would be evaluated by their supervisors, who would be evaluated by local managers, who would be evaluated by-- by-- By people like Zota Vanros. This was every kind of wrong.
Natalia had attempted to make the best of a bad situation by presenting herself in the best way possible. She had worn the nicest thing she owned, and had even paid one of the fellow workers to patch up some of the holes. It was an old outfit from before the mines, the only thing she had come to them with. The look consisted of a burgundy scarf that she had tied and retied so many times, and that she hoped wasn't too bright a colour as to be offensive; a bulky brown jacket that was cinched at the waist but continued down to her mid-thigh; and white pants that she had done her damnedest to clean. She had done a pretty good job of it, too -- at least until she got to the offices and realized there was a small mud stain on the left calf.
Sitting and waiting to be called into Mr. Vanros' office was almost solely comprised by her panicking anxiously that he would see the stain and dock her some kind of invisible points.
"Anjali, N.," Someone called, and Natalia could feel her stomach clench. She was certain she would vomit. Oh Gods, what would they do if she threw up in his office? Would they just kill her on sight? She hoped they would, she couldn't bear the embarrassment.
No. She needed to steel herself. She wouldn't puke. She wouldn't go back to Sector D. She wouldn't lose her job. She prayed to any God that would listen for luck on this meeting.
When she reached his door, the clerk advised her quietly to knock. Just knock? That was it? Wait, the clerk wasn't coming with her? She was going to be alone? She pursed her lips and filled her cheeks with air, trying not to continue this god-awful worry that would not leave her. All she had to do was knock, keep her head low, and agree with whatever her said. It would be easy.
Blowing out the air in a quiet sigh, she raised her fist, lowered her fist, raised it again, moved it to knock, and tapped it as silently as possible. When there was no response she realized it hadn't been loud enough and flinched as she forced herself to do it again. This time, she heard the response: "Natalia? Please, come in."
Just like that, she was walking through Hell.
Hell was actually quite pleasant. It was warmer in here than in the halls, or the waiting room. It was clean, nicely decorated. And though she knew the man was important, and knew that he could end her life by taking away her job... She couldn't help but think about how Zota just looked like a Man. She was reminded of her earlier years in the mine, when she had been asked to betray people like him. People like him were just people. And he had a family-- they must've been older now... She wondered if he had grandchildren yet. These thoughts helped to quell her nervousness somewhat as she plodded towards him, and stood next to the chair with her arms crossed in front of her, and eyes lowered subserviently.
She wasn't sure if she was allowed to sit or not. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to speak or not. So she did neither. She just... Waited.
Post by Zota Vanros on Jan 31, 2018 16:05:57 GMT -7
The young woman was quiet, like so many before her. At least Zota preferred that to the upstarts who decided that this was the perfect opportunity to "speak their minds." He looked between the file and Natalia herself, then steepled his fingers. "You've been with us for quite some time, haven't you? Do you like it here?"
An innocent question. If she did wish to speak up, now would be the time. Before deciding what to do with her, Zota wanted to know what kind of person she was. She looked to be about Edgar's age. Seeing the scar on her nose, Zota wondered how she could have gotten it. He had glimpsed a patch of mud on her pants before she had sat down, and her jacket had a few patches here and there. This girl looked like a peasant who must have been hired out of pity. It was far too early to decide where he would send her, but Zota had little interest in interviewing her for longer than necessary. Was she content to be as plain as she looked, or did she want more?
but the flesh will have it's way. and i'm already gone. i'm gone.
[attr="class","ohlovebody"]His silence as he looked over her and the folder was probably worse than if he had merely begun to rail her with convictions of her poor work. Or maybe that was just her anxious mind desperately trying to rationalize why it was so panicked.
Either way, she noticed as his eyes lingered over the stain on her pants, because of course they did. And yes, he had most certainly seen the patches, too. They weren't perfect - but they were better than holes, weren't they? Or would he have preferred holes? Did he think that maybe she spent too much time patching her clothes instead of working? She would want to defend herself on that, as she had worked an extra day to pay for them but... He had no way of knowing that. He knew what he could see. She needed to do a better job at presenting herself.
Finally, thankfully, Mr. Vanros spoke up. He recognized the length of time she had worked for them, and asked how she liked it. She worried it was a trick question, but let the smile that played at the edges of her mouth form anyway. She had worked for him quite some time, and she was proud of that stability. And so she nodded. "Yes, Mr. Vanros, I do," And it was true. Yes, life was hard, but she was alive, wasn't she? She had food, clothes, a purpose. She was perfectly happy in her job.
But wait-- What if he wanted her to be more ambitious?
She opened her mouth to add something to that, then closed it again and focused her eyes on her hands at her lap. What could she say that wouldn't sound like she was stepping out of line? She finally came up with something, knowing he would ask what she was going to say anyways: "I... Really, I only wish I could do more... For you, and the rest of the company."
What was that? She didn't need more hours, did she? Oh god, did she come across like saying she wanted a promotion? No. No, no, that wouldn't do. She didn't want to sound presumptuous. She sealed her lips, trying desperately to avoid looking at him for fear of what he must be thinking now. Why couldn't she just keep her big mouth shut?
Post by Zota Vanros on May 17, 2018 15:22:38 GMT -7
Each motion he made to observe Natalia's close, she mirror his, and immediately looked away as if she was not at all watching him. Well, it was not like he was being particularly subtle. Natalia relaxed with a smile, and she seemed quite happy here. That brought some relief; at least she was willing to be useful.
Zota waited a moment before answering, but Natalia continued, pleading to be useful to the company. Ah, now there was what he was looking for. He reclined in his seat, spinning a pen between his fingers. He was leaning towards inviting her to the expedition. She seemed far too meek to worry that she may start a rumor, especially one that may reach Kross, but he could not take the chance of simply announcing it to her. Presently, Zota did not exactly have the permission to conduct his expedition, nor would he until the entire mess Nicole had gotten herself involved in was sorted out.
"I do have something more in mind that you could do," was all he decided to tell her. "I'll be working with Kross on a certain project, so if you wish to do more for the company, then once he and I sort out the details, I might ask you for another interview next month to see if you'd be interested."
He flipped through her file again, and drew out a single sheet of paper. "I understand some of your fellow miners seek better pay and conditions. I've spoken with some of the managers about recent protests, though I don't believe they mentioned your name. They actually have... very little to say about you, regarding anything. I appreciate that you wish to do more for the company, but I must ask, where do you see yourself in about ten, twenty years for now? "
but the flesh will have it's way. and i'm already gone. i'm gone.
[attr="class","ohlovebody"]Oh, Natalia thought, as Zota seemed to reveal the purpose of the assessment. There was a special project, and they were looking for people. Special projects, Natalia knew... Could be good or bad. It could mean longer, harder hours for nothing of gain. Or, it could mean the thing she wasn't here to ask for -- a promotion. Different (not better, maybe better) conditions. Better pay. She wasn't really looking for something like that, but she also couldn't admit that she was uninterested. Of course, it wouldn't be up to her. It wasn't a matter of choice. It was a matter of doing what she was told.
As she tried to wrap her head around the idea of this 'special project', Zota mentioned something else of curiosity. Unrest. Just like that which had happened before, and since, and again and again. It was a neverending cycle that never worked, and it focused on the wrong target, as far as Natalia was concerned. She had only moments to wonder if that unrest was the real reason she was here (if he was trying to suss out who was involved) when he returned the subject to her, with a question to which she had no answer.
Well, she did have an answer. But not one she thought would please him. The truth of it was that she didn't envision a future for herself beyond a few days. Thinking about one day being in her thirties, her forties, and beyond just didn't seem to compute in her mind. Did that show a lack of ambition? Of course it did. Did Zota want ambition? She couldn't tell.
"Honestly, sir," Natalia kept her eyes down, staring at his hands as they flipped through papers, "I don't have much in the way of plans. I'm... I'm here to work-- Not so much to dream. That's your job, I suppose. You dream the dream, and I... help you mine it."
Post by Zota Vanros on May 22, 2018 19:52:34 GMT -7
Zota was almost disappointed in the poor girl. Perhaps thinking of her as a "girl" was infantilizing her. She was certainly old enough to call herself a woman, but she seemed to lack a certain maturity to her. She seemed more like a child, too afraid to leave its cradle. It was not something he himself quite understood, the contradiction between his bitter resentment towards upstarts thinking they could rise above their designated lot in life, but abject pity towards those who did not at least dream of rising up. Perhaps because he had his own ambitions, he found it impossible to believe that no one else would have their own.
He had no reason to doubt her or suspect that she had something bigger in mind. A visible frown formed along his lips. "Is that so? Well, I can't say I'm not a little sad to hear that." He considered his three piles of papers. After his brief consideration towards inviting her to the expedition, her complete lack of ambition all but disqualified her. Even still, he wanted this girl to want more, so he would not transfer her to Sector D either. Which left the option of leaving her to continue working as she was. And yet, that carried its own risks. If the girl was simply returned to the status quo, he doubted that she would have want to challenge it.
He remained silent, alone in his thoughts. If Natalia was growing anxious anticipating his answer, she would have to keep waiting. Would he offer her an invitation to one of Edgar's masquerades? Edgar did so like to make himself comfortable with high society, but it was not enough. If this girl was invited to one, perhaps the taste of high society would be enough of an appetizer to entice her into something more. Then again, Edgar had already dragged him into enough headaches. The last thing he needed was to rely on Edgar for persuading anyone.
"Alright," he said at last. "If you're just here to work, then please continuing working here as you always have." His answer felt so scripted. It was not what he cared to say, so much as what he felt he had to say, if only to fill the silence. "All I ask is that you make some more friends here. Do whatever you think might impress your supervisors. Just not anything too rash, of course. But if you don't have a dream to call your own, you're only going to be leading an empty life."
but the flesh will have it's way. and i'm already gone. i'm gone.
[attr="class","ohlovebody"]It was pure shame that washed over Natalia as she realized she had failed the assessment. Zota was saddened to hear her responses, and as he examined the papers she knew that whatever 'special project' he was looking to fill, she was not going to be invited to participate. Which... Wasn't fair. She was a good worker. A hard worker. She was strong, and hardy, and focused. So what if she didn't have dreams? Who needed dreams? Dreams had only left her starved.
She nodded somewhat blithely as Zota offered his advice, hiding her shame and frustration beneath a veneer of smiling compliance. "Of course, sir," She told him, "I'll do that, sir," She told him. "If I may though, sir... A question?' She asked him -- almost surprised by herself. But she just had to know, if only he'd let her ask.
Post by Zota Vanros on Jun 7, 2018 18:14:00 GMT -7
Natalia seemed to understand his request, but he was curious if she would truly make the effort. It was no concern of his whether or not she made friends. Whoever she decided to keep close would be entirely up to her, and if she did join in the protests… well, he would burn that bridge if he came to it. He was more concerned about Kross finding some way to blame him for whatever Natalia decided.
With nothing more to say, he was about to tell her to be on her way, but she still had more to say. For a moment he considered that she was trying his patience, but he decided to indulge her own curiosity. "Well, I've been asking you plenty of questions myself, so by all means, go right ahead." Somehow she had found the spirit to take some initiative. He looked over the clock. "Make it quick, though. I do have other people waiting after you."
but the flesh will have it's way. and i'm already gone. i'm gone.
[attr="class","ohlovebody"]If Natalia were being honest with herself, she had not expected for Zota to comply with her request. He had little reason to, she supposed. In fact, he'd have more reason to reprimand her for daring to speak out of turn. Yet, he didn't, which was amazing to her. He was so... Kind, just as she'd always thought him to be. He was likely a wonderful father, too. Should she ask him about them?
No. She knew what she needed to ask, and didn't wish to test the patience he had already been so gracious with.
"This... Special project?" She spoke with less certainty than she intended, with less confidence than she was trying to muster. Still, she had to force herself to pull it together, despite how far out of character it was for her -- the option had actually presented itself, and she wanted to know. She needed to know. "Are you... Sure you couldn't use someone like me? I know you said you wanted someone with dreams, but the work I do... Is sort of my dream-- And I'm good at it. My outputs are steady all year, no drop-off in the winter like the others; I'm always willing to take double-shifts to meet our quotas, and--"
She realized she was becoming too insistent, and stopped herself short, eyes locking firmly onto the closest edge of the desk as she slumped back in her seat somewhat, while still keeping her back as straight as she could.
"I'm sorry, sir," Her tone was even again, measured, "I'm out of line, sir. I only wish I could perhaps... Help you further, sir."
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