Post by KyferLegs (Diria) on Nov 19, 2022 19:18:00 GMT -5
Cemal Can, a very tall and large man, came from Burin, and red and white tattoos across his dark body stood out against the suit he wore. Usually referred to as Mr. Can, his brow furrowed as he tapped his cigarette against the ashtray as the smoke from his constant chain-smoking filled the small but noble room. Across from him, the doors out of his office intoxicated him as had started at the current finance reports of what he thought was the most national bureaucratic record holder. Unfortunately for him, he was the Minister for the Federal Ministry of Finance. So, he spent most of his day idealizing ways to keep the stagnant economy growing again, and he knew the EA would reject those opinions. Taking a long huff of his cigar and leaning back in his comfortable leather chair, he took a moment of solace away from the graphs and sheets. Suddenly, the tapping of the telegraph interrupted quite an appealing sound of silence. Mr. Can started to sigh and leaned back to his desk as he ignored the telegraph tapping. One of the aides would send the message soon, and he couldn't be bothered translating it.
After a moment of silence and preparing to put on a cheerful attitude for the still-single Ohmyidan aide, he was fond of entering the door. Instead, he grew disappointed as the knock on his door was not that of a sweet woman but that of a man's desperate attention, or so he thought. "Come in!" He yelled as his left eyebrow raised, seeing it was no other than Tapani Ran, his unfortunate agency executive, and all he thought of was wiping the smug Zarou smile he despised from Tapani. But today was different. Instead of a smug smile, Tapani had a look of sheer terror, and behind the panicked executive he hated so much, he watched the office filled with the sound of telegraph taps and frantic talking. Suddenly, his thought was interrupted by the yelling Tapani, "Did you read the report!? "Did YOU read the REPORT from the EA!?" Mr. Can took a moment to think, interrupted by Tapani slamming his hand down onto the desk. Mr. Can look up and yelled, "No, I didn't. What did it say!" The frustrated Zarou threw the just written telegraph paper onto the desk as his long breaths finally began to tap at the smoke-filled room leading him to cough. Mr. Can began to grumble to himself. Fortunately, he thought of the behavior report of Tapani's yelling he'd get to write. However, as his eyes schemed down the fresh ink, his grip felt sweaty due to something he had feared and warned against for ages, and at that moment, he could only think of one word, Fuck.
Both men looked at each other directly. Mr. Can felt his breath shutter as he tried to form words. His mind swirled with anxiety as he let the paper fall. "Oil is down a q- quarter of the market price..?-" His fear at that moment began to turn to anger as he crushed his cigar into his ashtray, "-And..? They want an estimate of the loss!?" He threw himself up and pointed to Tapani, "Schedule an emergency meeting with the President, NOW!" Mr. Can watched Tapani stand confused and shocked, so he again yelled, "Stop sitting there, dumbwit! Take a car! Don't even dare to telegraph this!" Tapani quickly rushed out as Mr. Can walked to his office window, slamming them open as he leaned out, taking a breath of air and numbering the sentence, "This will be a fucking depression if not resolved."
Hours later, Mr. Can clutched his briefcase to his gut as he sat on a bench. The second most important doors in the country were to his left. His hands still felt sweaty from the hours before when Tapani- or the EA informed him of the happenings with the oil prices. He looked right to see the enormous hall with many other doors exiting to other important figures of the President's residence's inner workings. He knew the President. Hell, he'd call him a friend if they weren't politicians, but today all he could imagine was fear of facing him. Suddenly the doors next to him opened as an honor guard opened the door for the minister of Foreign Affairs, who walked out with a face of annoyance. He slowly rose to his feet and peered into the large room. Inside were plentiful flags of the government, presidency, and states. He'd be honored to be here any other day, but all he could think of was the possibility of resignation papers.
Taking a deep breath as he walked into the room, his mind called out the figures he saw, President Candan Sisli, Chancellor Ezra Cohen, Federal Minister of the ECD Leonardo Salib, and Federal Minister of the EA Luna Turan. They were arguing about the choice of an international reaction they made. Approaching the group of influential people, he was stopped halfway by the President's voice buried under the bickering. President Sisli was a tall, skinny, light-toned Ohmyidan with a modest beard and bald head. Sisli gestured for Sisli to approach, his voice booming off the office's walls, "Come, did you bring that report?" Mr. Can quickly raised the paper waving it around as Mrs. Turan, a woman from Shawistan with dark black hair and a tan complexion who wore a luxurious white gown and large circle earrings, squinted, seeing the man who had requested the meaning. Approaching the President's table, he put the form down, only for Chancellor Cohen to pick it up and skim the paper. Cohen was short and fat Zarou, who always wore the same black suit and blue tie, and had an orange pattern of fur at the end of his muzzle, which looked like a handlebar mustache.
"An economic depression? Are you sure, Mr. Can?" The room immediately went silent as President Sisli looked down at Chancellor Cohen. ECD Minister Salib pushed his hands into his suit pockets as Mrs. Turan shouted, "Poposturous! Oil prices have dropped before and never led to a depression!" Mr. Can sighed as his brow furrowed. He pushed his clammy hands together, cracking his knuckles, and spoke. "Hasn't led to a depression yet- And judging by the world economy right now, how our southern neighbors seem to be engaging a price war with their oil prices, we can't risk dropping the cost of the barrel without it destroying a good part of our GDP." President Sisli sighed as he looked at Minister Salib with a worried gaze, "Is Mr. Can right with this?" Minister Salib thought for a moment and nodded, his voice burdened with anxiety, "We can barely lower it to compete. A nation like Abbadon doesn't care for its people or spending, so they'll destroy the barrel to get back at us." The room went silent as Chancellor swore to himself, "In perfect time for the elections too."
Minister Mrs. Turan chuckled as she raised her palm upwards, "So we can't drop the price, and we can't raise it cause nobody would buy, so let's just ride it out!" Mr. Can shook his head in frustration as he pointed at the paper in the Chancellor's hand, "Sure- we can sit it out and go into recession as the Lira becomes worthless, sure!" Mr. Can rolled his eyes as he walked forward, his large shoes stomping into the ground. Raising his voice, he stared at the President and Chancellor, "I know it isn't my responsibility, but we have to do something! We have the chance to encourage diversification and open the door for other nations, and we are an untapped market!" As if Mrs. Turan blew a head gasket while she gasped in rage, her arms flailing up and down, "You don't have that responsibility. That is mine! From my experience, you want us to be a puppet- reliant on other nations!?" Mr. Can turned surprisingly fast for his size as his large hands lifted and pointed at the EA minister, his last straw broken, "You handle the interior economy, not foreign ones, lady! Stop putting words in my mouth. Having another corporation, which happens to be foreign, doesn't enslave us!" ECD Minister Salib grunted as he spoke while watching the still Dirian flag. Crossing his arms, he murmured, "Mr. Can is right. Diria won't be able to ride this storm without action, and selling or sitting on it isn't fixing it. We'll have to open up some."
Mrs. Turan's face turned practically red with anger as she quickly walked up and yelled, "You-"
"Enough!" Chancellor Cohen suddenly slammed his fist onto the President's desk, yelling. The President looked down at the angry Zarou with annoyance as Cohen continued to speak, "This isn't time for political arguments but action!" President Sisli nodded and murmured agreement as Mrs. Turan turned back, frustrated, while Mr. Can rubbed his neck and thought to himself. Before anyone else could speak, Salib broke the silence. "I propose a bill to open Dirian markets globally, export other goods, and lower tariffs and taxes on foreign investments and corporations." Mrs. Turn stomped in anger as Mr. Can shouted, "hear, hear." while turning toward Minster Salib. The President watched the movement of words, knowing he couldn't stop the ministers. Cohen, who wanted to get action, grudgingly nodded, "We'll bring this to Federal Council-" He then looked at Mrs. Turan and sighed, "-with the other ministries' opinions voiced." President Sisli sighed, "Then this meeting is over, Cohen. Do what you must." The President put his palm against his forehead as the minister and chancellors left.
After a moment of silence and preparing to put on a cheerful attitude for the still-single Ohmyidan aide, he was fond of entering the door. Instead, he grew disappointed as the knock on his door was not that of a sweet woman but that of a man's desperate attention, or so he thought. "Come in!" He yelled as his left eyebrow raised, seeing it was no other than Tapani Ran, his unfortunate agency executive, and all he thought of was wiping the smug Zarou smile he despised from Tapani. But today was different. Instead of a smug smile, Tapani had a look of sheer terror, and behind the panicked executive he hated so much, he watched the office filled with the sound of telegraph taps and frantic talking. Suddenly, his thought was interrupted by the yelling Tapani, "Did you read the report!? "Did YOU read the REPORT from the EA!?" Mr. Can took a moment to think, interrupted by Tapani slamming his hand down onto the desk. Mr. Can look up and yelled, "No, I didn't. What did it say!" The frustrated Zarou threw the just written telegraph paper onto the desk as his long breaths finally began to tap at the smoke-filled room leading him to cough. Mr. Can began to grumble to himself. Fortunately, he thought of the behavior report of Tapani's yelling he'd get to write. However, as his eyes schemed down the fresh ink, his grip felt sweaty due to something he had feared and warned against for ages, and at that moment, he could only think of one word, Fuck.
Both men looked at each other directly. Mr. Can felt his breath shutter as he tried to form words. His mind swirled with anxiety as he let the paper fall. "Oil is down a q- quarter of the market price..?-" His fear at that moment began to turn to anger as he crushed his cigar into his ashtray, "-And..? They want an estimate of the loss!?" He threw himself up and pointed to Tapani, "Schedule an emergency meeting with the President, NOW!" Mr. Can watched Tapani stand confused and shocked, so he again yelled, "Stop sitting there, dumbwit! Take a car! Don't even dare to telegraph this!" Tapani quickly rushed out as Mr. Can walked to his office window, slamming them open as he leaned out, taking a breath of air and numbering the sentence, "This will be a fucking depression if not resolved."
Hours later, Mr. Can clutched his briefcase to his gut as he sat on a bench. The second most important doors in the country were to his left. His hands still felt sweaty from the hours before when Tapani- or the EA informed him of the happenings with the oil prices. He looked right to see the enormous hall with many other doors exiting to other important figures of the President's residence's inner workings. He knew the President. Hell, he'd call him a friend if they weren't politicians, but today all he could imagine was fear of facing him. Suddenly the doors next to him opened as an honor guard opened the door for the minister of Foreign Affairs, who walked out with a face of annoyance. He slowly rose to his feet and peered into the large room. Inside were plentiful flags of the government, presidency, and states. He'd be honored to be here any other day, but all he could think of was the possibility of resignation papers.
Taking a deep breath as he walked into the room, his mind called out the figures he saw, President Candan Sisli, Chancellor Ezra Cohen, Federal Minister of the ECD Leonardo Salib, and Federal Minister of the EA Luna Turan. They were arguing about the choice of an international reaction they made. Approaching the group of influential people, he was stopped halfway by the President's voice buried under the bickering. President Sisli was a tall, skinny, light-toned Ohmyidan with a modest beard and bald head. Sisli gestured for Sisli to approach, his voice booming off the office's walls, "Come, did you bring that report?" Mr. Can quickly raised the paper waving it around as Mrs. Turan, a woman from Shawistan with dark black hair and a tan complexion who wore a luxurious white gown and large circle earrings, squinted, seeing the man who had requested the meaning. Approaching the President's table, he put the form down, only for Chancellor Cohen to pick it up and skim the paper. Cohen was short and fat Zarou, who always wore the same black suit and blue tie, and had an orange pattern of fur at the end of his muzzle, which looked like a handlebar mustache.
"An economic depression? Are you sure, Mr. Can?" The room immediately went silent as President Sisli looked down at Chancellor Cohen. ECD Minister Salib pushed his hands into his suit pockets as Mrs. Turan shouted, "Poposturous! Oil prices have dropped before and never led to a depression!" Mr. Can sighed as his brow furrowed. He pushed his clammy hands together, cracking his knuckles, and spoke. "Hasn't led to a depression yet- And judging by the world economy right now, how our southern neighbors seem to be engaging a price war with their oil prices, we can't risk dropping the cost of the barrel without it destroying a good part of our GDP." President Sisli sighed as he looked at Minister Salib with a worried gaze, "Is Mr. Can right with this?" Minister Salib thought for a moment and nodded, his voice burdened with anxiety, "We can barely lower it to compete. A nation like Abbadon doesn't care for its people or spending, so they'll destroy the barrel to get back at us." The room went silent as Chancellor swore to himself, "In perfect time for the elections too."
Minister Mrs. Turan chuckled as she raised her palm upwards, "So we can't drop the price, and we can't raise it cause nobody would buy, so let's just ride it out!" Mr. Can shook his head in frustration as he pointed at the paper in the Chancellor's hand, "Sure- we can sit it out and go into recession as the Lira becomes worthless, sure!" Mr. Can rolled his eyes as he walked forward, his large shoes stomping into the ground. Raising his voice, he stared at the President and Chancellor, "I know it isn't my responsibility, but we have to do something! We have the chance to encourage diversification and open the door for other nations, and we are an untapped market!" As if Mrs. Turan blew a head gasket while she gasped in rage, her arms flailing up and down, "You don't have that responsibility. That is mine! From my experience, you want us to be a puppet- reliant on other nations!?" Mr. Can turned surprisingly fast for his size as his large hands lifted and pointed at the EA minister, his last straw broken, "You handle the interior economy, not foreign ones, lady! Stop putting words in my mouth. Having another corporation, which happens to be foreign, doesn't enslave us!" ECD Minister Salib grunted as he spoke while watching the still Dirian flag. Crossing his arms, he murmured, "Mr. Can is right. Diria won't be able to ride this storm without action, and selling or sitting on it isn't fixing it. We'll have to open up some."
Mrs. Turan's face turned practically red with anger as she quickly walked up and yelled, "You-"
"Enough!" Chancellor Cohen suddenly slammed his fist onto the President's desk, yelling. The President looked down at the angry Zarou with annoyance as Cohen continued to speak, "This isn't time for political arguments but action!" President Sisli nodded and murmured agreement as Mrs. Turan turned back, frustrated, while Mr. Can rubbed his neck and thought to himself. Before anyone else could speak, Salib broke the silence. "I propose a bill to open Dirian markets globally, export other goods, and lower tariffs and taxes on foreign investments and corporations." Mrs. Turn stomped in anger as Mr. Can shouted, "hear, hear." while turning toward Minster Salib. The President watched the movement of words, knowing he couldn't stop the ministers. Cohen, who wanted to get action, grudgingly nodded, "We'll bring this to Federal Council-" He then looked at Mrs. Turan and sighed, "-with the other ministries' opinions voiced." President Sisli sighed, "Then this meeting is over, Cohen. Do what you must." The President put his palm against his forehead as the minister and chancellors left.