Mavran Posted August 25 Share Posted August 25 (edited) Date: August 10th, 2024 Time: 8:55pm Local Time [UTC-4] Location: Lillio, Greater Lillian Region, Illieux, Mavran The evening Lillioan sun was almost blinding, its golden rays giving the hall of the Hôtel Mavois (Hotel Mavois) a nearly mystical quality, one only enhanced by the sun highlighting the impressively infrequent dust in the air which seemed more like pixie dust in the lavish environment. 'Say what you want about him, but he knows how to choose a place for a meeting,' Mivre thought to himself. While not packed, the hall was just full enough to give it the gentle hum of elegant and refined conversation, as reserved for the city's elites. After all, this historical hotel was known for two other things besides simply being one of Lillio's best luxury experiences: firstly, it was the former hub for the Réforme Société (Reform Society) which was a major component of the Revolution and secondly, it was the contemporary hub for the contemporary Nouvelle Aristocratie (New Aristocracy) of the city, the descendants of the Réforme Société aristocrats all those years ago which escaped the initial Règne de l'Atrocité (Reign of Atrocity) with both their heads and wealth. Of course, this information would likely have little impact on this meeting, yet Mivre still found it peculiar that his host had chosen such a historic place for their meeting. He checked his watch to see that he still had five minutes before it would officially begin, and as such he attempted to continue his appreciation of the beauty of the Imperial-style interior, though he found his thoughts mostly pre-occupied with the whispers of conversations he managed to barely pick out as he made his way towards one of the larger tables of the hall. It had a small golden plaque attached to the side, displaying a golden 1. Three seats to the left of it, he found his card presented in front of his assigned seat. 'Louis Mivre – First Minister of Illieux' Even after over two years since his election, he still felt proud of this achievement. Sparing a glance at the cards next to him, he saw he was seated next to Agnes Primallard, CEO of CôteEst Acier (Eastcoast Steel), the largest Steel and Construction Materials Conglomerate in the Federation, to his left and Jean Morganne, CEO of JPMorganne Poursuite (JPMorganne Pursuit), the most prominent Bank in the Federation, to his right. 'Elite company, indeed.' Mivre recalled, remembering the promise of conversation with elite company on his invite card. As he sat down, he heard the nearby cathedral begin its announcement of the new hour, as he watched in real time as people finished their conversations and headed towards their tables. He also saw his company approach, guided by the host of the entire event. He gave no illusions about his position as he arrived, heading straight for the chair at the head of the round table, opposite the location of the plaque. Each of his steps was imperious, carrying with them a weight only a man of his influence and wealth could muster. Raphael Havenporte-Delleum, Owner of the Havenporte fortune, and head of the Havenporte Corporation business empire stood in between his seat and the table, yet did not sit as the others did. Instead, he picked up his glass and hit it gently, the noise signifying to the attendees the need for silence. Then, he began. “I would firstly like to thank you, Good Mesdames et Messieurs, for making time in your busy schedules to attend this event. I am quite pleased to see many familiar faces, and interested in speaking to some of those who are attending for the first time. However, I would wish to introduce our guest of honour for this event who, unlike his predecessor, had the decency to interact with the upper echelons of Illieux society. Now, Mesdames et Messieurs, please welcome First Minister Louis Mivre to the 16th Tri-Annual meeting of Illieux High Society!” Mivre nodded respectfully and raised his glass at the applause, while Havenporte continued, “Now, I'm sure that you are ready to get back to your conversation, so I shan't keep you any longer. The night is still young, remember to enjoy yourselves!” He sat down, as the room erupted into conversation ranging from the latest fashion to the economy, to the rather controversial topic of Velaheria. It was going to be a long night. Mivre took a sip of the wine which he had raised prior. 'Iverican. Nice.' OOC: This is my first ever RP of this kind, so if you see any mistakes, please point them out to me! My goal in this is to essentially flesh out some of the more influential figures in Illieux and Mavran, while also moving along my economic RP. Edited September 17 by Mavran The leader of Velaheria no longer controls the sun (see edit history) 6 Link to comment
Mavran Posted September 17 Author Share Posted September 17 (edited) Date: August 10th, 2024 Time: 11pm Local Time [UTC-4] Location: Main Hall of the Hôtel Mavois To Mivre's surprise, the mood in the room quickly became quite relaxed, as people let loose amidst their company of peers. For a while, he had found pleasant conversation regarding Illieuxnai fashion with two ladies of the purple, Jeanne Piore and Juliette Piorena. Initially, he thought he had committed some faux pas when he accidentally swapped their names, but quickly relaxed when they laughed and joked about it. After that small nerve-wracking experience, he mostly relaxed and found them to be pleasant partners for conversation, with the topic rapidly switching between newly-trending materials imported from Orioni, to Tagmatine styles, then to Anglian menswear, and finally finishing on Lysian-style dancing shoes. Before long, Mivre had noticed that nearly half an hour had passed, and politely excused himself from the conversation, just as a new fashion expert approached the ladies. The next person to catch Mivre and include him in their talks was none other than Agnes Primallard. She had basically become an entrepreneurial celebrity in Mavran in the last two decades, rapidly transforming CôteEst Acier, Mavran's now-leading steel company, from a bloated former-state conglomerate into a shining beacon of the efficiency of private business and the market, greatly expanding Mavran's industrial sector while also giving it a reputation for some of the highest-quality steel in the wurld. This group of people that she had gathered around her, Mivre recognised them all as CEOs and founders of steel and steel-related companies of various sizes. They all listened intently to Primallard's rants about worker wages and productivity, the state of Farisian infrastructure and increasing profit margins. The topic also drifted to the recent contracts which the company had received for the ownership of some of Mavran's new and modern Green Steel plants, with her small audience hanging off of her every word. Mivre, on the other hand, found himself way out of his depth with talks of 'hydrogen-based extraction methodologies' and 'rates of quality in comparison to levelled wages', but was still able to provide some minor input when appropriate, with the rest of the group usually nodding along silently or voicing some minor form of agreement. Eventually, however, the 'basic' conversations reached their natural ends and entered levels of greater expertise, which Mivre found to be his cue to silently exit the quickly thinning circle of people. The rest of the evening up until now had progressed with few meetings of any note after his involvement in Primallard’s group. Some conversations were around the situation in Arbar, others discussed the implications of Orioni’s involvement in Velaheria, others yet were talking about Mavran’s future on the wurld stage. And yet, amongst them all, a small group talking quietly in a corner seemed most noteworthy. Mivre quickly recognised them all as members of the Front Révolutionnaire National, the newest bloc to enter Mavranai politics. They were usually quite isolated from much of the political and economic establishment of Mavran, and their common policies quickly showed why. Left-wing Populism, reminiscent of Lys Maraud; Mavranai civic ultranationalism; jingoism that would make even Alexandre Fleur blush. Even if now they didn’t show it, most people in the room were worried about their steady rise in the polls. But tonight was not a night for worrying. It was also not just a night to laze away, idly chatting with the aristocracy of Mavran. Mivre quietly slipped out of the hall and into a small side room, making sure he went unnoticed. While Havenporte kept a nice face out in public, Mivre knew just what kind of man he could be if need be. After all, you don’t stay the richest man in Mavran for long if you can’t break everyone else to your will. “Louis.” His voice cut through the relative silence of the room. He could still just barely hear the conversations and music just beyond the heavy door. “Raphael.” Mivre sat down on a chair opposite Havenporte, close to his desk. “I’m not going to lengthen this conversation any more than need be. You are going to make sure that a company in my group – I don’t care which – gets the contract for the construction of the new Illieuxnai transport network. In fact, you are going to be making sure that most of the new projects just so happen to be won by companies in the Havenporte group.” He clicked his pen as he spoke, staring out of a window. As if entirely disinterested, or disconnected from the ludicrosity of what he just said. Sometimes, Havenporte’s brazen nature still shocked Mivre, even when he had become quite used to it. “And do pray tell, Havenporte, why the hell would I do that?” A shiver ran down Mivre’s spine as Havenporte turned around to face him fully, his face sporting a mean smirk. “You see that drawer to your left? Open it.” Mivre slowly reached over to open the drawer, but not before shooting Havenporte a confused look. As he opened it, he saw… a pile of photographs, and some documents? He picked up the photographs… and his heart sank as he looked through each one. The motel. The dress. The room. 'N-no… how?' “I believe those pictures will be quite familiar to you. Am I right, Mivre? Don’t answer that, I know I’m right, and I know that because I made sure of it. Now, do pray tell, how would it look to your wife if she saw pictures of her husband sleeping with a prostitute? Certainly would complicate home life, but I think it might complicate political life even more. A scandal like that might be enough for the LM to throw you off the ticket.” Mivre’s jaw dropped as he moved past the pictures towards the document. It had big red “CONFIDENTIAL” stamps all over the front, but Mivre didn’t need to read it to know what it was. “I see you’ve also seen the extra digging I did. You’d be surprised at how much some of the best private investigators in the wurld can uncover, given enough time. Though I must say, stealing a party election? And people say I’m brazen. Now, a cheating scandal costs some reputation and maybe popular support. After all, most people don't care for such things as the ‘holiness’ and ‘sanctity’ of a marriage anymore. But, fraud of this scale? In a country which practically holds democracy to be sacred? That’s not just jail, Mivre. That’s life behind bars.” Despite Havenporte putting extra emphasis on those words, Mivre could barely hear him anymore. His head was running with chaotic thoughts and worries. “Now, of course, none of this needs to get out. It can all stay safely in a safe, never to see daylight again. However, you have to work for me now, before anyone else. Understood?” All that Mivre could do was just-barely nod, scurrying out of the room after. He felt sick. He slowly walked towards the entrance, trying to remain as composed as possible, so no one would realise anything was wrong. The fresh midnight air hit him with force, and yet it felt perfect at that moment. He just now noticed the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead, wiping them away with the sleeve of his suit. It was time to go, damn what anyone else thought of his early exit. As he was leaving in a hurry, he barely looked in front of him to see where he was going. As he looked up, a flower hit him in the face. A lily. Golden, but more orange than yellow. How fitting. OOC: A Yellow Lily represents joy. An orange one represents hatred. Edited September 17 by Mavran (see edit history) 3 Link to comment
Mavran Posted Friday at 11:51 AM Author Share Posted Friday at 11:51 AM (edited) ▬▬▬▬▬◄✩✩✩►▬▬▬▬▬ Date: August 15th, 2024 Time: 1am Local Time [UTC-4] Location: Mavris-sur-Rozo, Lilygate Complex, Headquarters of the FRN (Front Révolutionnaire National) Leadership Committee Lille and the rest of the team shuffled along quietly down the corridors. None of the men spoke, hoping to make, if not no noise, then as little noise as possible. 'Twenty rooms cleared. Fifteen more to go.' He thought quietly to himself as he led the group of Handy-Men to the next room of the Headquarters. His heart was beating faster than normal, his thumb absent-mindedly flicking over the few dozen cheques in his coat pocket. He had originally been opposed to taking on this particularly risky mission, but Monirue had helped convince him in the end. Initially, he had assured him that Gray had re-arranged the security rota at the complex to give the group a few hours of free-range time, but when that hadn't convinced him, the promised promotion from Security Officer to Security Operator certainly had. 'One last mission, and then I can be finally done.' He had thought to himself that particular line of thought countless times prior to entering, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness in him. Of course, it wasn't anything related to morality (he had long overcome that particular hurdle), but it was more like a pervasive gut feeling of being in danger. And no matter how many times he tried to convince himself it was nothing, it simply felt fruitless. This entire thought process lasted until the group finally reached the next office. 'Office of the Illieuxnai Tertiary Whip' was engraved into a golden plaque. He quickly pulled out his master keys, the keys jingling on the ring, before opening the door. After this one, just fourteen more to go. ⚜⚜⚜ Date: August 15th, 2024 Time: 1:30am Local Time [UTC-4] Location: Mavris-sur-Rozo, Lilygate Complex, Central Building Fidrek patrolled the building lazily, with no real intention behind what areas he chose to check. After all, technically, he wasn't really meant to be here at all. His shift was due to start at six, but having looked over the rotas, he had noticed a nearly six-hour gap in security from midnight to first shift. Nobody he asked knew anything about another security company having been hired for those specific hours, so Fidrek had assumed that the dunces in management had left a gap again. He had promised to not rat them out the first time around, but it was starting to get a little ridiculous. Eventually, he decided to show up just in case, since he would rather not lose his job because some idiots don't know how to manage time than lose it to prove some point. That was the story behind how Fidrek was now the lone security guard patrolling the entire Lilygate Complex, during the most likely break-in times. That realisation only struck him just now, and he could feel the grip on the gun in his holster get just a little tighter, as he looked around, more than a little paranoid. He had started a loop of the complex just before one, starting from the back entrance of the Central Building, and he was finally approaching it once more. As he passed the door, he could feel the warmth coming from inside the building, helping to thaw his frozen hands and giving him a nice sensation as he started his second… Wait… There weren't meant to be any heat exhausts here. Fidrek rapidly backtracked to the door in a few seconds, and he could feel his heart sink to his feet as he processed the image before him. The exit door was suspiciously taped open, enough to easily let a person in, and even in the darkness he could just barely make out six, eight, maybe ten pairs of footprints leading into the building. He could also feel the heat he had identified earlier much more strongly, all but confirming his suspicions. Someone's inside. Still, it would be better to confirm that it wasn't someone he could apprehend by himself before altering the authorities. As quietly as he could, Fidrek removed the tape and gently closed the door behind him as he entered the building. Glory to the Brave, Fidrek. Glory to the Brave. ⚜⚜⚜ Date: August 15th, 2024 Time: 1:35am Local Time [UTC-4] Location: Mavris-sur-Rozo, Lilygate Complex, Central Building Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, there. Done. That was the last of the bugs for this one. Lille looked around the office and the rest of his group. They all quietly, quickly, and dutifully completed the final checks, linking the bugs to the main collection channel. There were only 10 more to go now, and they were moving before schedule. In Lille's eyes, this was amazing. The sooner they got out of there, the sooner they would be safe, and the sooner he could say he would never have to do anything on-field like this ever again. As the group began the steady journey to the next room, a strange sensation of being watched suddenly descended on him. He suddenly and rapidly turned around, confusing the other Handy-Men, while he just stared down the corridor where they came from. Total silence descended on the group as they stopped, not even breathing. Nothing. Lille sighed, turning back around. He was getting paranoid now. All the more reason to look forward to his promotion after this. “The hell was that?” One of the Handy-Men asked, most likely echoing the thoughts of the others. “Nothing. But let's get a move on, this place is giving me the creeps.” ⚜⚜⚜ ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit Fidrek's mind was racing as he regained his breath, having held it for nearly two minutes. He didn't breathe until he was sure that the group was far enough away from him. As he gasped for another breath, he tried re-collecting how many there were. One, two, three, four with the mustache, five, six, seven, eight, and the ninth nearly saw me. Once he was sure the group of burglars was far enough away, he made a mad dash to go down a floor, pulling out his phone. He brought up a contact that he hadn't had any need for in his six years as a guard, up until now. EMERGENCY: URGENT TO LOCAL PD He was glad he hadn't forgotten to change the number on the contact when he took up the contract here in Mavris. He pressed call and heard the phone quietly ring. ⚜⚜⚜ Date: August 15th, 2024 Time: 1:50am Local Time [UTC-4] Location: Mavris-sur-Rozo, Lilygate Complex, Central Building, East Side The next office was quite close to the last one, and because of how relatively small it was, it proved to be another quick and easy bug. He was starting to feel like a proper expert now. Richard must have pulled some real moves to get the entire complex free from guards for the night, and it was proving to be a blessing. If they continued at this rate, they would be done before three and could go home and get some nice, much-needed rest in a comfortable bed. It really did pay to be a King's Handy-Man. However, a nagging voice at the back of his mind kept on screaming that it was far too easy. Something was going to happen, it said, even as the night continued to progress smoothly. Soon enough, the King would know whatever dirty secrets the FRN held and tame the wildcard Bloc, and Lille was proud to be playing such an instrumental role. At first, Lille was so caught up in his grandstanding that he didn't even notice the barely audible sirens. That is, until they all of a sudden become quite audible for the entire group. Like, right in front of the damn complex audible. They looked at each other for a second, before all seemingly coming to a remarkably unified conclusion. RUN. The group blazed down the hallways of the building, not giving a damn about being silent or secretive anymore. They rapidly approached the location of the exit door that they came through, a holy grail to making sure they didn't end up leaving the complex in handcuffs. Lille could just barely make it out at the far end of the hallway they were on now. The sirens sounded dangerously close, and he thought he could hear glass shattering behind them. Just get through the door a- “STOP WHERE YOU ARE! NOW! I WON'T HESITATE TO SHOOT!” A security guard stepped out from behind a wall, a gun aimed at the group. Lille knew how these guys worked. They were just meant to try to scare the goons into staying in one place and never engaged, just waiting for the police to arrive. He kept on running, aiming to go past the guard and reach the door as- *BANGcrack* Lille fell to the floor as a wave of blinding pain erupted from his shin, basically completely immobilising him. Even as his vision dimmed, he could just barely make out the rest of the group stopping out of fear and putting their hands up. From behind, he could just about make out a whole squad of uniformed police officers running towards and then practically tackling his group. As he finally screamed out in pain from his shattered shin, only one thought ran through Lille's mind. 'It's so unbelievably over.' ▬▬▬▬▬◄✩✩✩►▬▬▬▬▬ Edited Friday at 04:45 PM by Mavran spelling (see edit history) 4 Link to comment
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