[Location] Lord of Council's Office

by **Zandelia** on March 2nd, 2015, 11:33 am

Spring 16th, 515 AV

As she entered the grandeur that was soon becoming a strangely common sight within the city she was sure of only one thing, that she required employment of some variety or another. In her diggings and reasearch, musings and conversation she had discovered that having employment was the heart of msot matters of survival in Zeltiva, and it had to be registered employment at that. Very much like Nyka in some ways she noted as she made her way towards the location that had been described. She took her time about it, studying the interior and mapping the layout – what little she could currently see – within her mind. She also noted the faces of those dressed as if they worked rather than visited. It always paid to record such things, never knew when she may meet one in a recpreational capacity.

Everyone needs to relax at some point, even quill scribblers with scant free time and a passion for parchment cuts she told herself as she saw the desk coalescing amidst the throng.

She waited patiently for her opening in the comnigs and goings, taking the time to listen but finding litle of note. People came here, it seemed, to hastily leave as soon as was posible and get back to their lives. Quite boring but understandable. As she drew nearer there were various forms and parchments, small standing awriting shelves dotted about to note down the reason you had come for the inevitably eternal filing process. Would she be under V, for visitor? Or Perhaps Z, for Zandelia? Or maybe A, for annoyance? She chuckled softly as she picked up the form she had come for and perused it, filling it in as she went. It was not so complicated after all, though form the zest with which paper was being moved about she was sure employment was the simpler of things taking place in the offices.

“I am looking for employment, Tranaris,” she placed the slip of paper upon the desk neatly, facing him so that he didn't need to shfit it about, “a woman has to work. Hopefully it is all in order?” she made it a statement but with the threading of an inquiry as she watched him carefully.

Application :

She didn't see how it wouldn't be, her idea and motives were simple ones this day. Gain a steady form of income and access to the city's food store rations, a woman had to eat and she was getting hungry of late. It was merely a happy convergence that her hoped for place of employment included dozens of influential clients, governmental officials and the every man of reasoned intelligence and monetary means. It had been Anelda herself, albeit probably not how she had intended to be understood, whom had given her the idea. She could still help people and gain a comprehensive understanding of the Zeltivan political machine at the same time.

She smiled at the Seneschal as she awaited the verdict. She was patient.

by **Shai** on March 2nd, 2015, 3:37 pm

Early in the morning, Shai had taken time to play the part. In Sunberth she had begun as a dreg, hiding at ever footstep. Here in Zeltiva, such stealth would be largely impossible. Already the guards had seen the Symenestra disembark the boat, or so she assumed. There was another way to become in invisible; be so visible that subterfuge seems ludicrous. Aside from that was Shai’s guilty pleasure for beautiful things. The lithe acrobat planned to apply for the finest distract within the city.

Smiling through the early morning light, draped in fine fabric of crimson and gold, Shai approached with her form in her left hand. In the right she held a metal fan matching her own dress, embroidered in gold thread. It had been a long time collecting such items in Sunberth, Shai had every intention of taking advantage of the port city’s wealth in this regard. “I have two forms for you today.” Shai placed them in order so that she might be approved for a vocation before a location.

Profession Form :

Housing Form :

The spider shifted as she waited for the expected scrutiny. Few humans enjoyed the thought of a Symenestra in their districts, but sometimes the rich found her interesting and exotic rather than terrifying. It remained to be seen how the Zeltivans would treat her. “Is everything in order?”

by **Pulren Marsh** on March 3rd, 2015, 3:37 am

Spring 14, AV 515

Having spent a night at the Grotto, though sleep was scant with the excitement of being home again, Pulren headed out at first light to visit the Lord of Council's office and secure his footing in his home. He had seen Sunberth with its madness and death and visited the island of Sahova, the results as equally traumatizing. Returning to the city of his birth and really most of his life really brought the young man;s mind to the forefront. He was beyond ready to get to work, though now he had the hard discipline and grit to see it through.

Entering the lavish surroundings of the offices was pleasant and jarring enough, the smells of flowers and incense a stark difference from the smell of feces and regret that Sunberth wore as a banner of honor. Approaching the desk of one Mister Tranaris, Pulren nodded and greeted him. "Good morning. I'm a native resident of Zeltiva, returning after a pair of seasons in Sunberth and Sahova. I need to fill out some paperwork." He would have smiled and wanted to, but the scars of his 'service' with the Scars gang had taken its toll and two weeks of seafaring to get back hadn't nearly soothed his mind. Setting to it, he filled the paperwork out and handed it in, standing at ease and waiting to hear from the bureaucrat once it was time to do so.

Work Application :

Housing Application :

by **Jaiden** on March 4th, 2015, 8:44 am

Jaiden laid eyes once more on the splendor that was the Lord of Council's Office. Damned bloody thing still looks like a fortress, he thought. He drew the smoke into his lungs slowly, idly imagining himself as Lord of such a place.

"I'll see ya, Jaid. This place makes me feel like a squid. I'll catch you up at the Grotto," said Yanos.

"Aye. It has that effect doesn't it. Fair winds." He chuckled and flicked what was left of his cigarette away. Foolish notion, that. He didn't envy any man who had that job. Besides, he had no desire to be cooped up in some building for too long a time. Time to get this over with.

His eyes adjusted to dim lighting in the building and the scent of parchment and ink assaulted his nostrils. The place was just as he remembered it: polished wood that gleamed in the lamp light, red velvet cushions to pamper the behind, and a pretty damned impressive looking desk smack dab in the middle of the place. I wonder if they'd notice if I nudged it askew, he mused.

Outwardly Jaiden appeared to be exactly what he was; a strikingly tall sailor dressed in jerkin, trousers, and for shore's sake—boots. He held himself a bit too proudly for his station and his countenance contained a subtle smile, his brown eyes, a spark of mischief. It was as if a private joke had come unbidden to his thoughts, but one he would not share.

Jaiden recognized the portly man seated behind the desk, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Well met sir. I've come to renew my dossier," he said and handed the man a folded up parchment that smelled faintly of tobacco.

Folded Parchment :

by **Perplexity** on March 5th, 2015, 1:13 am

.

Fallon

Tranaris sat at his desk with circles under his eyes and perhaps even a little weight trimmed from his body. The events of the past few seasons had most definitely taken their toll on the elder gentleman. He was reading through a missive over the rim of a cup of tea before his sharp eyes leveled Fallon with a stare. When she presented her paperwork to him he took it gently before reviewing it. An arching of his brow was soon followed by a nod bearing a note of finality to it.

“Everything seems to be in order.” He set each form down penning his signature at the bottom before adding his official seal. Once finished he leaned over grabbing a thick book from the corner of his desk. Tranaris opened it flipping through several pages before coming to the one he was looking for. He made a note in two places on the page then retrieved a form. The old man sniffed as he penned instructions on the sheet of parchment. When he was finished he cleared his throat looking over Fallon’s shoulder. Immediately a wiry gentlemen with salt and pepper hair, a thick mustache and green eyes hobbled up. Wordlessly Tranaris handed the forms to the gentleman who looked them over. He seemed to think for a moment before nodding and hobbling off.

“He will be back shortly with the keys to both your office space and your townhouse as well as written directions to both addresses. The office space will require an initial payment of 215 gold mizas. Henceforth for the duration of your stay in Zeltiva you will be expected to make a payment of 135 gold mizas to the Lord of Council’s Office for as long as you occupy both spaces. The payment will ensure your continued eligibility to run a business in the city as well as give you access to the city’s rations. If you have any questions or you would like to file additional paperwork I suggest you follow up with the Ministry of Justice.”

As soon as he finished his explanation the other gentleman hobbled up extending keys and a slip of paper to Fallon. Tranaris smiled at her.

“If you’ve nothing else, have a pleasant day! Once you get settled, I recommend returning to the Office. There is much work to be had for a person of your particular skills in the city.” With that he gave Fallon a nod before turning to the next person awaiting his attention.

Fallon, Please Read! :

Anouk

Tranaris regarded Anouk with a smile after reading through her application. He gave a small chuckle with a nod penning his signature at the bottom of the form.

“It is always wonderful to see a new artist in the city. Zeltiva has a fine appreciation for your talents, my dear. You will find nothing but admiration for your skills and if you work hard enough perhaps even the wealthy will petition you for private paintings.” Retrieving a form from a drawer in his desk he wrote out a license detailing that Anouk was authorized to operate as a freelance artist in the city. He handed it to her.

“Do have a good day!”

Anouk, Please Read! :

Zandelia

Tranaris regarded the application in front of him quietly for a moment. He looked from the parchment to Zandelia then back again.

“Madame, I am afraid—“ Before he could finish his sentence a woman’s voice interrupted.

“Tranaris, my dear!” The Seneschal’s eyebrows went up slightly. He rose from his desk with a smile extending a hand to none other than the proprietress of the Zastoska Bathhouse. The two shook hands both smiling at each other with a sense of familiarity.

“Anelda, is it that time already? My how time slips by.” The elder man chuckled. Anelda gave him a nod before glancing at Zandelia.

“Zandelia! Fancy meeting you here, you appear more relaxed. I am glad to see a trip to my bathhouse served you well.” Tranaris looked between the two.

“You know her?” Anelda nodded.

“I like her.” A single white eyebrow rose before Tranaris eyed Zandelia from head to toe.

“Is that so?” Anelda pat Tranaris on the arm before giving him a private smile.

“Do take care of her, won’t you Seneschal?” Tranaris nodded resuming his seat as Anelda waved to Zandelia making her way past the desk and up the staircase. She paused for a moment.

“Oh and Zandelia, do stop by for another massage. Relaxed you might be today but you’ve had quite the tiring trial before reaching our fair city.” She waved again before proceeding up the staircase at a leisurely pace.

“I will be up with you shortly for tea, Anelda.” The Seneschal cleared his throat regarding Zandelia. “Now then where were we? Ah! Yes! Your employment!”

The gentleman took out a new sheet of parchment. Quietly he wrote down a single sentence before handing it to Zandelia. It read simply, “Speak with Madame Anelda.” Tranaris then placed Zandelia application in a separate drawer without signing it.

“Everything is in order. Do have a nice day!”

Zandelia, Please Read! :

Shai

“An acrobat?” Tranaris’s voice was dubious as he regarded the dark haired Symenestra in front of him. He rubbed his chin before shrugging with a nod.

“Very well. The crew of the theater will most certainly be pleased to have another performer in their midst. As long as you don’t cause trouble there shouldn’t be a problem. I hope that’s perfectly clear, ma’am.” He eyed Shai from head to toe before penning his signature down at the bottom of the form. He then reviewed her housing form before chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. Grabbing a large book from the corner of his desk he opened it flipping to a specific page where he made an annotation. He glanced over Shai’s shoulder whereupon a man with salt and pepper hair and a thick mustache hobbled up. Tranaris passed the form to him after adding a note.

“You will be housed in the Ancient Quarter. The payment of 450 gold mizas per season will be delivered to the Lord of Council’s Office. You will be granted access to specific rations that cater to your people’s particular diet. I suggest you do your best to remain as…cordial to your neighbors as possible.” With that the Seneschal returned to his work. Eventually the other gentleman returned with keys and written instructions for the Symenestra to follow that would direct her to her new home.

Shai, Please Read! :

Pulren

Tranaris rose from his desk signaling for Pulren to wait for a moment. He retrieved a key from his pocket as he made his way over to a non-descript door. Sliding the key in place he disappeared into the room for several minutes before returning carrying what appeared to be a record in his hands.

“Your files have been maintained, Master Marsh. I will simply update them appropriately.” He waved to an attendant who shuffled over. Tranaris handed the man a slip of parchment from the record as he resumed his seat. After a few minutes the attendant returned bearing keys and written instructions directing Pulren to his new home.

“You will be housed in the northeast section of the Old Quarter near the Denvali Quarter. I trust you can find your way? Report to the Wave Guard Headquarters once you are settled in. They will be expecting you and you can resume your former duties.” With a nod Tranaris returned to his work. As Pulren turned to leave however the Seneschal called after him.

"Master Marsh?" Tranaris gave Pulren a kind smile. "Thank you for your service."

Pulren, Please Read! :

Jaiden

Jaiden, Please Read! :

by **Saul Sticks** on March 5th, 2015, 2:44 pm

73rd of Summer, 494 AV

A young Saul Sticks walked into the Lord of Council’s Office and looked around. The family had had the fortunate, or unfortunate, addition of a new sister just a few weeks back, and he knew that would mean his mother would be out of work, not that she had had much for the last few months. No one wanted a pregnant whore, or at least, very few did. Now that she had delivered, Saul’s mother would be busy caring for the child. He had to give her credit. For as terrible of a mother as she was to her grown children, she dedicated a lot of her time and emotion to the young ones. Still, Saul needed to be fed, as did his younger sister and brothers, he imagined.

The room that greeted him was more than he had expected. A hardwood floor covered with beautiful rugs supported equally beautiful hardwood chairs that were cushioned with red velvet. Brass lamps adorned the walls, and ahead of him, sat a large desk made to match the chairs. Feeling a little inadequate at having entered such a wealthy establishment without knowledge of its high class, Saul turned around and walked back out to the front.

He had already kicked some of the dirt off his shoes when he had first entered, but he didn’t feel it had been enough. Standing on a door mat, he scuffed his shoes across it time and time and time again until he felt they were presentable enough for the room he had seen. All the effort had paid off; the shoes were now probably closer to their original color than they had been when he had bought them secondhand. In fact, they were so clean now the holes appeared even easier to see. He brushed what dirt he could off his clothes and took a deep breath. Entering again, he headed straight for the desk.

The man behind it set a paper down and addressed him. “Welcome to the Lord of Council’s office. How may we help you today?”

Saul nodded politely in greeting and affirmation of the man’s greeting. “I’m looking for a job, sir.”

A paper was slid across the desk to him. The man behind the desk, Tranaris Johnson if the name on the plate was correct, instructed Saul to fill the paper out and return it to him when he was finished. It was a good thing Saul’s mother had taught him to read and write. It was about the only thing she had been good for aside from ensuring that he survived his first several years of life.

He filled the paper out quickly and returned it as he had been told, waiting for Mr. Johnson’s approval. He had selected to work at the Docks, firstly because he knew extra hands were always needed in Zeltiva’s busiest area and secondly because he felt it was a way he could support the city. While he was still small, he was sure suitable work could be found for him until he grew into the heavier lifting sort of jobs.

Form :

by **Saul Sticks** on March 5th, 2015, 2:45 pm

41st of Autumn, 498 AV

A slightly older Saul stepped into the Lord of Council’s Office. He remembered how fine of an establishment this place was and had thoroughly cleaned his boots before coming. The room that greeted him was exactly as he remembered, everything seeming even more noble with the few years it had aged, especially the man behind the desk.

Saul was sixteen now and was no longer a boy but a man. If the muscle that was building on him already was any sign, he was falling into his job as a laborer quite naturally, and it was treating him well. It was time he found a place of his own. He was still helping to support the family as best as he could, but their living quarters were cramped, and he needed his space. Besides, his mother was back to working now, having left the youngest sister, Sasha, under the care of Saul’s younger siblings.

Mr. Johnson was already looking at Saul as he walked through the door and greeted him as he approached. “Welcome to the Lord of Council’s office. How may we help you today?”

“I’m looking for housing, sir.”

Saul knew the drill. He took the paper that Tranaris offered him, filled it out quickly, and returned it to the man.

Form :

by **Noven** on March 9th, 2015, 3:00 am

Noven stepped forward warily with his completed form in hand. Never had he felt so out of place in a single building. It was so lavish, clean, big in his eyes. Even the wealthier estates in Sunberth had never made him want to stop and oggle for the next bell or five.

Reminding himself why he was here today, Nov approached with as much calm as he could muster to hand over his application for employment. He'd never had to fill out a form before. The man had been half afraid he'd forgotten how to write altogether, but managed to chug along through the simple questions one by one. He'd also cleaned himself up as best he could during his first few nights at World's End, figuring it wouldn't hurt his cause if he did, though there was little to be done about his clothes at the moment. They were as ragged and worn as the day he'd been thrown onto that ship to escape a mob of bloodthirsty locals.

"It's done..." the Sunberthian announced in his usual, blunt manner, but it was not without respect. "...Sir." He added that last part a bit belatedly; it'd been years since he'd addressed anyone that formally.

Work Application :

by **Demitri Maebourne** on March 9th, 2015, 4:17 am

5th of Spring, 515 AV

She probably shouldn't have come here.

Demitri was sitting in the office of the Lord of Council as she had been for the past ten chimes, fists in her lap and staring down at a piece of paper. "Job Application."

It was truly pointless, wasn't it? She had come all the way down to the Old Quarter from East Street, probably wasted a full day of gathering information, or even playing cards. And for what? To stare at a blank form and try to figure out what she could possibly be good at other than stealing from drunk or sleeping fools.

It's not as if she wanted to bum around Zeltiva for the rest of her life, taking the mizas off of the unlucky sops of the upper middle class. Then again, she also didn't want to sit at a desk for the rest of her life, or serve ale at the Kelp Bar, or do any other one of the hundred menial tasks that she might barely qualify for.

She grimaced, still staring at the application. She could do this. She just needed to put any old thing on there, hope for a wage of a couple gold mizas, and turn it in with a cheerful smile. Maybe Tranaris Johnson would take pity on her. He struck her as intimidatingly professional, but the smile lines on his face made her at least a little hopeful. She took a deep breath. All she had to do was write down a job that she could put up with...

She sighed. This was no good. Really, anything she put on that piece of paper would probably not work out, and wasn't she well-qualified for hiding in the shadows anyway? Why gum up the works by trying to learn a new profession? Shaking her head, a bit disheartened, she stood and crumpled up the blank paper in her hands, tossing it unceremoniously in the trash as she left.

Oh, well. The thieving was much more fun than any other job, anyways.

OOC :

by **Vazka** on March 14th, 2015, 7:52 pm

14 Spring 515AV

Today was unlike most days. Most of the times that Vazka had cause to enter the Old Quarter, it wasn't by walking. But she wasn't here for work, or rather she wasn't here to discharge her duties in the line of work. Today was the day she renewed her lease for the little flat she called home, and at the same time ensured she maintained employment in order to enjoy such living.

This building was well known to her, and she to it. Brilliant golden eyes swept across the plush, well-appointed interior as Vazka crossed the threshold; it was seemingly unchanged since the day she had first been brought in with her parents. The gentleman behind the desk was familiar to her as well, though she rarely interacted with Tranaris Johnson except for on days such as this. The exchange between them was well orchestrated by now, and the formula began as usual with his standard greeting to all who entered. Stepping up to the desk she produced a key from her pockets, evidence of her current abode, and set it on the desktop. She looked down at the key then back to him and added, "employment renewal, too." Two sheets of parchment were thus produced, and the graceful kelvic in human form swept them up, turning and moving to the small writing desk placed to one side specifically for such things. Quill and ink were located thereon, and she quickly scratched out the same words she had learned to write only a handful of years before.

After closing the ink bottle and returning the quill to its storage receptacle, Vazka returned to Mr. Johnson's desk. Setting her applications next to the key, she silently waited for his judgement.

Job Application :

Housing Application :

Location [Location] Lord of Council's Office