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Guillermos
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The Office of the Citizen's Committee

Having arrived during the night, Guillermos was forced to decide between sleeping under the glimmering dotted nightsky, somewhere in a city park or to rent a room at the nearest inn. While it could be argumented that depending on the chosen inn, both held the risk of waking up with a shiv in your kidney, Guillermos still chose the latter option and first thing in the morning went on his humming way to the Office of the Citizen's Committee. The first pitstop any aspiring Etzori had to make, according to the guard that let him in the city.

Taking in the new city's atmosphere and architecture, he made his way to the Committee, it only took him about a few lightarcs longer than expected. Eventually he found a kind spirit, an old lady that looked like she was close to becoming an actual spirit when they finally arrived at their destination. Guillermos felt bad for making her do all this effort just for him, especially since it clearly took a lot out of her and shortened her lifespan with each step forward. He put his hand in her coat and when he removed it again, it had formed into a fist. He placed his fist over the palm of her open hand gently and with the subtlety of a novice illicite trader, he handed her the gold nell. "Thank you, take care now ma'am." The woman waved him hearthily with her free hand, the other resting on the wooden walking cane's handle. She hadn't even looked at the coin, Guillermos figured she might have been already grateful for being able to spend time with another human being and feeling needed, still he had to make sure there could be no misinterpretation or miscommunication regarding his gratitude.

The woman had quite literally lead him up to the Committee's doorstep and before soon he had already stepped inside. Looking around it felt like quite a small office for having such an important function in the city. But when it hit him nobody was going to come for him through one of the doors, he saw the boards above them. Each clearly leading to a more specialized segment of this city's organization. He needed to visit at least two of them. using logic for dummies, Guillermos predicted the Employment dept. would only be able to help him after he was an official Etzori citizen, so he opened the door under the small sign above 'Housing'.


There he was greeted with a hairy creature with a finger aimed accusingly at him. Completely in the dark as to what was going on or what the critter expected from him, it took him a bit of time and squinting wrinkles to realize it was a very focused woman with a LOT of inkblack hair. Looking around for someone to come forth and tell him what to do...Even if it was just to tell Guillermos she wanted his soul, at least he would know then!..As he turned from left to right, he saw the open door and again his coin fell and he realized she wanted the door shut.

The finger vanished, then the hair drifted backwards and revealed a calculating and business oriented face that wordlessly warned she does not take kindly to 'attitude'. Guillermos almost lowered his eyes but instead drove off in a stare as she spoke. When she was done speaking, he focused his sight again on her eyes and with a certain eye-level 'attitude' he declared she was absolutely correct and that it would probably be a temporary stay but could span more than one, even a few, seasons so he wanted to know if he could apply for a housing option. Guillermos didn't speak in a haughty or any kind of agressive manner, but not with a submissive feel to it neither. It was as said, on eye-level with this person. Guillermos hoped sincerely the aura of no-nonsense she gave off was also one she could appreciate in return. Logic for dummies.


After he received the response from the woman, he made his way to the Employment unit and this time the person behind the desk seemed more amical in nature al though still going right down to business, he effortlessly made Guillermos feel at ease as he shook his hand and took a seat. Guillermos spoke of his previous employment at Rharne where he was a freelance journalist and was hoping to find a similar job here, possibly one with a lot of fieldwork if there was such an open employment opportunity. He declared he had a love for finding stories to write about and that he has previous experience with helping out others solving cases, both on & off the job. Basically adding a fine print in his answer that he has the heart in the right place and respectable person. He got in the habit of adding this in conversations regarding his job, as in Rharne's Dust Quarter, journalist equals snitch, something he hoped was not the general consensus in Etzos.
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The Office of the Citizen's Committee

Guillermos (housing)
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Guillermos (employment)
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Ivanthe
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The Office of the Citizen's Committee

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EMPLOYMENT


Ivanthe felt small in the Citizens’ Commitee Office. More than usual, at least. It wasn’t an especially busy day, but he still felt the heavy confusion from others as to why he was alone; he didn’t expect children had very much business here, but if he quit at every sign of discomfort then he wouldn’t have made it to Etzos in one piece.

When he made his way through the door marked “EMPLOYMENT,” there was a woman ahead of him that seemed irritable with her conversation partner: a middle-aged man with silver hair and an exasperated look as the woman concluded her business and got up to leave.

Ivanthe stayed against the wall as the man sighed and began gathering up the papers on his desk and filing them away; only when he appeared finished with his task did the boy step forward to the center of the room and stand quietly until he was noticed.

“Hello,” the man said after only a few moments. “May I help you?”

“Yes. Work. I’m looking for it.” Ivanthe tried not to stutter.

“Yes,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I… see. Well, welcome then. I am Peter Mead, Employment coordinator.” He held out a hand, and Ivanthe shook it quickly.

“Ivanthe.”

“A pleasure, Ivanthe. Now, why don’t you have a seat and we’ll see what I can do for you.”

Ivanthe sat, and Peter steepled his fingers. "If you could give me a basic idea of what skills you could offer this city, I have no doubt I can find you a place where they can be put to gainful use. So, what sort of employment are you hoping to find?”

“Hunting,” was the boy’s immediate answer. “Well, I’ve been doing it… for awhile. My father’s a huntsman, and I grew up helping merchant caravans. The one that brought me here, they said that supplies go between the city and villages. I know a bit of fieldcraft, too, and I can shoot enough to hit wolf that gets too close to things. I want my own job and my own wages. I'm a quick learner and I can pull my weight in the field.”
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Ivanthe (employment)
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Eliza Soule
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The Office of the Citizen's Committee

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The 18th Trial of Ymiden, Arc 718
Eliza had gotten turned around several times after passing through the Great Parhn Gate. There'd been nothing wrong with the guard's directions and he'd been helpful enough. But she'd still managed to get turned round a number of times and eventually had needed to ask for directions to the offices of the citizen's committee. The delay in getting there seemed to give the large, long haired gray cat in the box she carried, all the more reason to complain. He was still upset about the guard having peeked in his box and was pacing, turning round and round in the small confines of his box, and yowling loud enough to draw more curious looks than Eliza was happy with.

Just for a few trills once she passed through the doors, the mortalborn was struck by indecision. She'd come to secure a place to live. But she also planned to seek employment before the trial was gone. The box lurched and scraped in her hand, and made her decision for her. Housing first, and she entered the left hand door.

The directives she was given by the dark haired woman were a mix of verbal ones and self-styled sign...clearly the mark of someone trying to do multiple things at once. Eliza smiled a little then, shut the door behind her, took a seat and set the growling box full of house cat on the floor at her feet. "Yes," she said. She'd come seeking a place to stay. "My name is Eliza Soule, with an e, and...I'm not sure?"

Temporary or Permanent? Everything for Eliza, sooner or later, was temporary. "I'm hoping to rent a home rather than purchase one," she explained, leaving out that she didn't have the money to buy a house outright had she wanted to. "I plan to stay at least a season or two. And then, if I decide to stay on I'll consider buying."
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Eliza Soule
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The Office of the Citizen's Committee

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Even before she settled into her seat, it seemed to Eliza that the sort of reception she received from that point forward, would be based on first impressions. If the glance in her direction, the shift of expression and the subsequent smile was anything to go by. The mortal born more than most anyone knew that appearances were deceiving as often as not. In fact she'd spent over two centuries, in a sense, dabbling in deception. This time would be similar to hundreds of times before. She appeared to be completely human, and human she would be. Especially in Etzos.

But of course she had needed to clear her own seat before taking it, and even then the woman didn't seem to be completely comfortable with her presence. Or maybe she just didn't care much for her job, and resented actually having to do it. Eliza couldn't exactly blame the woman with the busy hands. She could hardly think of anything more mundane, and less inspiring than sitting behind a desk all the trial through, trial after trial. "I'd rather not stay at an inn," she said when the topic arose. "I'd prefer something with less of a temporary feeling."

Having said that, Eliza had to admit that the Inn for Dinner did sound appealing, if only because she presumed that the location was somewhat more desirable than others. The cost however would probably reflect that, and she also needed to consider mister Smudge. "Does the inn allow pets?" she asked. As it turned out, no matter the answer, it was a standalone house that Eliza was most interested in. An adobe one, rather than one made of wood.

"I believe I'd like to rent an adobe structure," she said and then sat forward in her chair a little so that she could look at the map. "If there is one available, I'd like to rent in the southwestern section?" Naturally she'd have preferred to rent a better house that was located inside the walls. But apparently, that was not to be an option. Instead, a home located somewhere roughly between the market and the garrison barracks, might be the next best thing. "Sixty nel, you said?" she asked, and reached into the small bag where she carried her coins.
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Eliza Soule
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The 18th Trial of Ymiden, Arc 718
Over the course of more than two centuries, Eliza had languished in poverty, she'd lived in the lap of luxury and had resided in any number of places in between. She'd even inherited a handful of windfalls but they'd gone as easily as they'd come. If the mortal born woman had been a wiser investor, she would have amassed a sizable fortune by now. But Eliza wasn't a wise investor and in fact had naively invested in more than her share of hair brained schemes.

On top of it, she liked nice and expensive things and had never practiced much discipline in that regard. Unfortunately all she had to show for it was a small suitcase that contained most of her worldly belongings, and an old hatbox containing a disagreeable long haired cat named mister Smudge. Most of those beautiful things that she'd called hers at one time or another, she'd had to sell, pawn or trade for rent or travel expenses; due to the predictable collapse of one of those hair brained schemes, or another.

Now Eliza had left miss Kelleen Mora's office, sixty nels poorer than when she'd gone in. It was payment for a place to live on the outskirts of Etzos, just for the cycle, and eventually if she remained in the area, she'd need to pay it again. If the fact that her coin purse was lighter now wasn't a sufficient enough reminder, then on her way out, coming face to face with the door leading into the employment office, was.

She could always come back in a few trials. But at the back of her mind was a growing list of the things she'd need to purchase in order to make life by her standards more livable. It was one of those moments when Eliza came to regret one of those poor investments or fortunes lost, and she pushed open the door and stepped inside. At least this Peter Mead seemed more pleasantly friendly than his counterpart across the hall in the housing office.

"Thank you mister Mead," she said as she took a seat and put her things down on the floor. "My name is Eliza Soule and yes, I'm looking for work." But her skills and what she wanted? "Well, I can sing a little. I can draw and paint well," Eliza told him. "Portraits, landscapes, scenes and still life. That sort of thing. I thought that I might find work with a local family who'd like their children to learn a little art and music?"

Surely the city was full of wealthy citizens or politicians in need of private tutors for their children. Or even better? "I understand that there is a museum of art and history in Etzos. I wonder if there might be a position available there? Perhaps helping to restore, maintain or catalog works of art?" she suggested hopefully.
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Eliza Soule
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Re: The Office of the Citizen's Committee

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"Unless it is the only option available," Eliza said politely when Mr. Mead mentioned the inns, "I'd prefer something a little less, well, I'd rather something where I'm not the evening's entertainment." In retrospect and in light of that, she realized, she probably shouldn't have mentioned singing at all. Singing for her supper in a dimly lit cafe, or peddling caricatures on street corners to tourists and strangers, really wasn't Eliza's thing. A girl needed to eat, however, and in light of that she reminded herself that she really couldn't afford to be picky.

The way the man looked at her however when she mentioned the possibility of tutoring, surprised her. But then maybe it shouldn't. In Eliza's experience, children weren't the easiest people get along with. Especially if they were the children of the rich and powerful. And the parents were usually worse than the children. Eliza however had developed a great deal of patience, therefore discipline, over the last several centuries. That level of patience was bound to be a useful tool when dealing with children, and might earn her a leg up on others who had less of it. Still, tutoring wasn't her first choice, and it appeared that this trial was to be her lucky one.

When he mentioned an opening at the museum, Eliza sat forward a little in her seat, her interest having been sparked. Maybe, in this case, she could afford to be picky. "Exhibits? What kind of exhibits?" he asked, and then shook her head and smiled. It didn't really matter whether it was a collection of paintings, a crate full of marble busts or crates full of broken pottery. She was intrigued. "Tabard, Head Curator," she said, even as she reached into her small bag, pulled out a notebook and opened it up in her lap. Quickly, she wrote down the curator's name, the place, and whatever details Mr. Mead was willing to give her.

"That sounds just perfect mister Mead," she said, already collecting her belongings, and the napping Mr. Smudge off the floor. "Thank you so much for your time and your help. I'll be sure to see the head curator straight away." It was exactly what she'd do in fact, after stopping off briefly at her new rented home to drop off her things and freshen up a little.
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