Post by KyferLegs (Diria) on Jun 21, 2024 17:49:14 GMT -5
Matthias Farzin rubbed his thigh in his left hand and pushed his cheek against his right hand, staring at the last parts of the projector's film in contemplation as it debuted. His mind raced of his actions over the previous two or so years, and he had been in and out of gun manufacturer buildings and trying to convince investors with no success. He gradually brought himself to the moment, the front buttons of his undersized olive coat squeezing tightly into his abdomen. Matthias's right ear twitched, his green eyes tilting up and squinting to comprehend and recall the mumbo jumbo displayed on the wall and muttered by the presenter a couple of dozen feet ahead of him, the military jargon he was not inclined to understand despite the fact he served when he was 18 and very likely could serve if his luck was bad enough. The thought of that pinged in his head like an omen. The old military uniform from his twenties was even more so a reminder. Still, he wore it to avoid patriots from harassing him on the street for not fighting.
His left ear twitched, his focus was drawn to the business people beside him, and all seemed eager to what they were listening to, their polite whispers able to be deciphered in parts by Matthias's keen hearing. It frustrated him that he even had to go through corporate means to get his gun sold to the market. He had never understood to work a business; even if he did, there was no reputation for any large sales, thus no way to get a place to make them besides his fiance's hanger, which Matthias technically wasn't allowed to enter the premises after getting caught shooting bottles there by someone other than the gate security he bribed. So, the next best thing to make money was pleading to the big players in the arms industries, hoping they'd like his design enough to buy the license.
However, his attempts to get the Talus into the civilian market proved to be either for nothing or embarrassing. Worse so, as it turned out, Kascian Arms Company, the leaning arms manufacturer in Diria, had decided to present their new submachine gun design to the civilian market and the military during his last gambit. So when he brought his gun up to Respicio Kascian at his headquarters, he was told he was trying to "dishonor the Kascian name." Luckily, he knew a friend of a friend who had introduced him to the idea of a military contract, something the slimy Veraki in-origin Kascian was gunning for. Matthias had never considered it, going through the military for a contract. He didn't like the idea; the military brought back bad memories, but it was this or going broke, and his plea to Kascian Arms was practically his last try, so when given the opportunity, he had to get buddy-buddy with Soharah Armories, a recent startup, which had no money, or that to offer at the moment for the license of his gun. Still, they were interested and loved his Talus design, so the company's two owners had convinced him to go towards the military trials and prior submissions for such his design.
The projector clicked, the presenter's voice bellowing over the room in some big reveal as faint clapping and oddly recognizable grumbles and exclamations erupted behind and around him. Yet, he didn't fully register it; instead, a soft and inaudible whine emitted from his neck as he paused to applaud like nearly everyone else politely and then resumed reflection. Regardless, before Matthias could wallow more about his life, failures, and the ongoing war that kept coming closer, the face of an Ohmyidan man with jet-black hair obscured his view. The Ohmyidan man was Evasi Dara, the man he had to trust to market his gun. When they first met, Dara seemed odd at first, but Matthias realized both had an equal passion for firearms as he did, and better yet, he didn't seem as posh as the other types he knew despite co-owning Soharah Armories with his female Mednusai friend Tzofit Gryn. Dara was rugged and looked rural rather than urban. He spoke with a twinge in his Dirian, and his toothy, albeit yellow grin always managed to swoon over any conversation.
"Did you hear that?" Dara spoke before Matthias could verbally document his presence, but they seemed excited, a big smile creeping across his face, flashing through their scruffy beard. The projector still clicked, and the presenter sputtered the newest information in front of them. Shortly after, the faces of two strangers tilted towards Dara in annoyance as he articulated with what could be considered unpolite volume during a movie or, well, an announcement to a bunch of wealthy businessmen.
It took Matthias aback a bit, his ears tilting back while he tilted his head up in observation. He straightened his posture, removed his hand from his face, and gawked at the happy man before him. A few groggy stutters fell out of his mouth as he realized his boredom and introspection made him more tired than he felt. "Hear w—" Yet, before he could respond fully, Dara slammed their palm onto his shoulder, the strength hurting quite a bit. Yet, it turned into an odd shaking motion a father would do to a son who did something worth praising.
Dara continued to shake Matthias's shoulder, looking him in the eyes, the black in Matthias's eyes dilating slightly as the joy in Dara's face became weirdly infectious. "We're in! You have Mr. Kas quite pissed. He's talking to the Major as we speak to try to boot us out, but from what I heard, the Major says we're fair game." The projector sputtered to an end, the last scene humming silently on the wall, and the two annoyed faces from the left got up, and the new space Matthias's left hip and leg sunk into, the extra room accommodating.
Yet, Matthias, after a few seconds of processing, awoke hearing the news, his ears lifting and his tail shooting up in surprise and delight. Fortunately, the chair he sat on concealed the ladder, which was half of such excitement, his tail, an embarrassing near reality that reminded him for a very brief moment. Next in thought process was the devil's advocate; although he'd probably get more reward from the gun going to the civilian market, the fact that the military even took an interest in his tube, or peashooter, as his partner called it, surprised him. Then, before the anxious part of his brain could trigger its half of reflection, words practically slipped out from his snout. "So what's next?"
Dara lifted his hand off Matthias's shoulder, sitting on the recently vacant chair that had opened next to Matthias, forcing him to retract his legs closer together in sheltered annoyance. "Well, it's past submission. They usually determine the victor of trials far later into a third trial, and I have no way of knowing how long that'll be. However, the military desperately wants to see a gun like yours on the field, so expect a winner far sooner, maybe even this year."
Matthias's hidden tail flicked, thumping against the chair as he heard the following information. The anticipation was killing him, but now he was just baffled. "On the field, that soon? I thought they did all the trials for wear and tear for a reason?" Matthias's mind raced with information and new ideas. Despite the fact he should be excited that the sooner the military could accept the gun, the sooner he'd get a paycheck, but now that it was a competition, especially against the likes of Kascian Arms, he desperately wanted to challenge his rivals and improve on the Talus.
Dara laughed heartily, once again shaking Matthias's shoulder as if he was hilarious. "Well, you'd be right, but with everything going on, these brass types are eager to experiment with these new guns to win the war. They may even have outside help, but that's SATO or CN business. My guy inside can barely know himself, and I could be wrong."
Matthias took a deep breath and then exhaled, his eyes starting to stare past Dara and to the board. The proposition spooked him. All he knew was there would be some comprehensive trial, but at least his gun was still in the competition, though it dawned on him, the board said next week and in Oban. "...Next week?" He shuttered, his tail going from excited to limp as he reminisced about his anxious and busy fiance at home, whom he missed dearly.
Dara leaned back, pulling a cigar case from his coat pocket. He flicked it open, the cigars smelling of cheap stuff. "Yep, they're making a tight window for us all." He became comfortable in the seat, his left leg crossing over his right; he gestured the cigar box to Matthias, inviting him to have one of the cigars to smoke. "But we're going to make this work nonetheless. I'd imagine the miss wouldn't be too happy about it? Smoke?" He teasingly nudged Matthias' shoulder, providing another hearty laugh to himself.
Matthias sighed and politely waved the cigar box away from which Dara offered a cigar. "Didn't take you for cheap cigars." He leaned forward, his hands clasping together as he stared up at the board for the last time and then stared at the floor in well-deserved introspection.
Dara scoffed, a very likely and understanding sense of joking annoyance coming from the tone, "Suit yourself, but take note, I'll buy a nice Nevarran cigar for us both when we win this." He lit the cigar and took a long drag. The seat creaked beneath his weight as he coughed, the cheap cigar seemingly taking its toll, but Dara didn't let that ruin the moment to relax and bask in it.
Matthias didn't smoke. He also didn't react to Dara's promise. Yet, Matthias's eyes glossed while his left leg shook, something he did when he was nervous. The thought of the military making a rush of this, the past rung in his head like a bell. He remembered those days when he could never seem to serve correctly despite doing his best; ultimately, he got put into the alternative civilian service. He hated being told orders, and he hated the structure and the rules, and now the military was breaking those rulings. How bad was the war going for them to do th-
A door slammed shut, and the noise caused Matthias to straighten up and look around, his ears twitching and alert. A dramatic sigh escaped his snout, and he looked around the room; it was empty, and Dara was gone. A soft sniffle escaped his nose. He looked down at the chair, grabbed his coat, and stared at the now blank wall where the projector had illuminated. How far would he take this adventure to get money for his stupid gun? He wanted to see his fiance, especially with the war getting so close to home. He crushed the thought of the war; He could afford himself a little happiness.
His left ear twitched, his focus was drawn to the business people beside him, and all seemed eager to what they were listening to, their polite whispers able to be deciphered in parts by Matthias's keen hearing. It frustrated him that he even had to go through corporate means to get his gun sold to the market. He had never understood to work a business; even if he did, there was no reputation for any large sales, thus no way to get a place to make them besides his fiance's hanger, which Matthias technically wasn't allowed to enter the premises after getting caught shooting bottles there by someone other than the gate security he bribed. So, the next best thing to make money was pleading to the big players in the arms industries, hoping they'd like his design enough to buy the license.
However, his attempts to get the Talus into the civilian market proved to be either for nothing or embarrassing. Worse so, as it turned out, Kascian Arms Company, the leaning arms manufacturer in Diria, had decided to present their new submachine gun design to the civilian market and the military during his last gambit. So when he brought his gun up to Respicio Kascian at his headquarters, he was told he was trying to "dishonor the Kascian name." Luckily, he knew a friend of a friend who had introduced him to the idea of a military contract, something the slimy Veraki in-origin Kascian was gunning for. Matthias had never considered it, going through the military for a contract. He didn't like the idea; the military brought back bad memories, but it was this or going broke, and his plea to Kascian Arms was practically his last try, so when given the opportunity, he had to get buddy-buddy with Soharah Armories, a recent startup, which had no money, or that to offer at the moment for the license of his gun. Still, they were interested and loved his Talus design, so the company's two owners had convinced him to go towards the military trials and prior submissions for such his design.
The projector clicked, the presenter's voice bellowing over the room in some big reveal as faint clapping and oddly recognizable grumbles and exclamations erupted behind and around him. Yet, he didn't fully register it; instead, a soft and inaudible whine emitted from his neck as he paused to applaud like nearly everyone else politely and then resumed reflection. Regardless, before Matthias could wallow more about his life, failures, and the ongoing war that kept coming closer, the face of an Ohmyidan man with jet-black hair obscured his view. The Ohmyidan man was Evasi Dara, the man he had to trust to market his gun. When they first met, Dara seemed odd at first, but Matthias realized both had an equal passion for firearms as he did, and better yet, he didn't seem as posh as the other types he knew despite co-owning Soharah Armories with his female Mednusai friend Tzofit Gryn. Dara was rugged and looked rural rather than urban. He spoke with a twinge in his Dirian, and his toothy, albeit yellow grin always managed to swoon over any conversation.
"Did you hear that?" Dara spoke before Matthias could verbally document his presence, but they seemed excited, a big smile creeping across his face, flashing through their scruffy beard. The projector still clicked, and the presenter sputtered the newest information in front of them. Shortly after, the faces of two strangers tilted towards Dara in annoyance as he articulated with what could be considered unpolite volume during a movie or, well, an announcement to a bunch of wealthy businessmen.
It took Matthias aback a bit, his ears tilting back while he tilted his head up in observation. He straightened his posture, removed his hand from his face, and gawked at the happy man before him. A few groggy stutters fell out of his mouth as he realized his boredom and introspection made him more tired than he felt. "Hear w—" Yet, before he could respond fully, Dara slammed their palm onto his shoulder, the strength hurting quite a bit. Yet, it turned into an odd shaking motion a father would do to a son who did something worth praising.
Dara continued to shake Matthias's shoulder, looking him in the eyes, the black in Matthias's eyes dilating slightly as the joy in Dara's face became weirdly infectious. "We're in! You have Mr. Kas quite pissed. He's talking to the Major as we speak to try to boot us out, but from what I heard, the Major says we're fair game." The projector sputtered to an end, the last scene humming silently on the wall, and the two annoyed faces from the left got up, and the new space Matthias's left hip and leg sunk into, the extra room accommodating.
Yet, Matthias, after a few seconds of processing, awoke hearing the news, his ears lifting and his tail shooting up in surprise and delight. Fortunately, the chair he sat on concealed the ladder, which was half of such excitement, his tail, an embarrassing near reality that reminded him for a very brief moment. Next in thought process was the devil's advocate; although he'd probably get more reward from the gun going to the civilian market, the fact that the military even took an interest in his tube, or peashooter, as his partner called it, surprised him. Then, before the anxious part of his brain could trigger its half of reflection, words practically slipped out from his snout. "So what's next?"
Dara lifted his hand off Matthias's shoulder, sitting on the recently vacant chair that had opened next to Matthias, forcing him to retract his legs closer together in sheltered annoyance. "Well, it's past submission. They usually determine the victor of trials far later into a third trial, and I have no way of knowing how long that'll be. However, the military desperately wants to see a gun like yours on the field, so expect a winner far sooner, maybe even this year."
Matthias's hidden tail flicked, thumping against the chair as he heard the following information. The anticipation was killing him, but now he was just baffled. "On the field, that soon? I thought they did all the trials for wear and tear for a reason?" Matthias's mind raced with information and new ideas. Despite the fact he should be excited that the sooner the military could accept the gun, the sooner he'd get a paycheck, but now that it was a competition, especially against the likes of Kascian Arms, he desperately wanted to challenge his rivals and improve on the Talus.
Dara laughed heartily, once again shaking Matthias's shoulder as if he was hilarious. "Well, you'd be right, but with everything going on, these brass types are eager to experiment with these new guns to win the war. They may even have outside help, but that's SATO or CN business. My guy inside can barely know himself, and I could be wrong."
Matthias took a deep breath and then exhaled, his eyes starting to stare past Dara and to the board. The proposition spooked him. All he knew was there would be some comprehensive trial, but at least his gun was still in the competition, though it dawned on him, the board said next week and in Oban. "...Next week?" He shuttered, his tail going from excited to limp as he reminisced about his anxious and busy fiance at home, whom he missed dearly.
Dara leaned back, pulling a cigar case from his coat pocket. He flicked it open, the cigars smelling of cheap stuff. "Yep, they're making a tight window for us all." He became comfortable in the seat, his left leg crossing over his right; he gestured the cigar box to Matthias, inviting him to have one of the cigars to smoke. "But we're going to make this work nonetheless. I'd imagine the miss wouldn't be too happy about it? Smoke?" He teasingly nudged Matthias' shoulder, providing another hearty laugh to himself.
Matthias sighed and politely waved the cigar box away from which Dara offered a cigar. "Didn't take you for cheap cigars." He leaned forward, his hands clasping together as he stared up at the board for the last time and then stared at the floor in well-deserved introspection.
Dara scoffed, a very likely and understanding sense of joking annoyance coming from the tone, "Suit yourself, but take note, I'll buy a nice Nevarran cigar for us both when we win this." He lit the cigar and took a long drag. The seat creaked beneath his weight as he coughed, the cheap cigar seemingly taking its toll, but Dara didn't let that ruin the moment to relax and bask in it.
Matthias didn't smoke. He also didn't react to Dara's promise. Yet, Matthias's eyes glossed while his left leg shook, something he did when he was nervous. The thought of the military making a rush of this, the past rung in his head like a bell. He remembered those days when he could never seem to serve correctly despite doing his best; ultimately, he got put into the alternative civilian service. He hated being told orders, and he hated the structure and the rules, and now the military was breaking those rulings. How bad was the war going for them to do th-
A door slammed shut, and the noise caused Matthias to straighten up and look around, his ears twitching and alert. A dramatic sigh escaped his snout, and he looked around the room; it was empty, and Dara was gone. A soft sniffle escaped his nose. He looked down at the chair, grabbed his coat, and stared at the now blank wall where the projector had illuminated. How far would he take this adventure to get money for his stupid gun? He wanted to see his fiance, especially with the war getting so close to home. He crushed the thought of the war; He could afford himself a little happiness.