[Failing Normalcy]
The ticking clock on the wall and the silence elsewise was almost enough to make Tanya nostalgic. It reminded her of simpler days, working her way to the top of the corporate ladder, slowly but steadily trampling the unfit in her path on her way to higher management. She would admit, she missed it. Though here was a chance to start that climb over again, assuming things went well.
Unfortunately, if the results thusfar were any indication of an underlying pattern, she didn’t have much of a chance.
It was a brisk morning that found Tanya sitting primly in a comfortable wooden chair, hands folded neatly over her lap, back straight, posture absolutely perfect so as to make the best impression possible. In front of her, behind a rather expensive looking desk, was a man perhaps thrice her body’s age wearing a sharp suit and wielding slicked back black hair and a pair of square glasses. His ears were pointed, indicating at least a modicum of elven heritage, and a tag on his lapel held the single word, “Administrator.”
The man regarded her over the rims of his glasses, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and skepticism. He set the papers down softly, steepling his hands over top of them
“This is a very impressive resume,” he said, though his tone suggested there was something else hidden behind his compliment. A hint of skepticism perhaps?
Tanya kept her tone and expression neutral. “I spent quite a while on it.”
“I can tell.” The Administrator adjusted his glasses. “If even half of the experience listed on these papers is true, you may in fact be overqualified for the position you’re applying for.”
“But...?” Tanya prompted, already knowing what was coming.
The Administrator didn’t answer her immediately. He took a moment to examine her, taking in her prim posture and stately dress. His eyes lingered on the top of her head, and Tanya fought a twitch, knowing exactly what he was looking at.
After a thorough visual pay down, the man sighed. He removed his glasses from his face, placing them on the desk and folding his hands once more. “I’m going to be frank with you, Miss Degurechaff. While I understand the desire to embellish, there is a time and place for it. This is not it.”
Tanya’s jaw tightened, but she kept her reaction in check. “I didn’t embellish anything.”
If anything, I left quite a bit out, she thought. The resume had been worded very carefully in such a way to give insight to her experience while maintaining a veneer of plausibility here in Orario.
Years of corporate management and war had been stripped back in favor of presenting her experience in the vaguest possible corporate terms. It was all technically true, just vaguely framed.
Yet, this administrator clearly didn’t buy it. He picked up the papers again, flipping through them with a dull expression. “You’re human, correct? Not only that, but a human without a Falna or any other blessing to speak of.”
“That’s correct.”
“Yet the previous occupations you’ve listed here make that rather difficult to believe.” The Administrator tapped a finger against the top page. “Managing large task forces, coordinating logistics under extreme pressure, overseeing complex operations with limited resources and personnel. These are not the kinds of experiences one simply picks up in a couple of decades, Miss Degurechaff. Yet here you sit, no younger than sixteen by a generous assumption.”
Tanya kept her expression placid, though inwardly she was seething. “My life before coming to Orario was eventful,” she said in a clipped tone.”
The Administrator nodded slowly. “No doubt. But this eventful?” He set the papers down again, his skepticism evident. “I’m not so sure.”
Tanya’s eyes narrowed fractionally. “You’re accusing me of lying?”
“I wouldn’t be so bold as to make such an accusation. I’m simply stating that your claims are difficult to verify and quite frankly, they are all you have to offer,” he shook his head. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, we cannot in good conscience offer a position to someone whose qualifications we cannot confirm.”
He slid the papers back across the desk toward her, and Tanya stared at them looking like she’d swallowed a lemon. She carefully controlled her reaction, reaching out to take the papers and slipping out of her seat.
“I see. Thank you for your time,” she said through a clenched smile.
As she slid out of her chair, the man gave her a smile that he probably thought was reassuring. “If it’s any consolation, I would be more than happy to hire you in a few years once you have some verifiable experience under your belt.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tanya threw over her shoulder as she stepped out of his office.
Tanya’s stride was borderline furious as she left the Guild-affiliated bank behind her in favor of home. It was early afternoon, yet the streets were only marginally packed as most were down below or working. She would have liked to join them.
Insufferable, she thought, her jaw clenched. Absolutely insufferable.
Since the business with the Apollo Familia had wrapped up and her debt cleared, Tanya had been looking into more conventional means of employment that didn’t require her to risk life and limb for a steady paycheck. She wished for something simple, out of the public eye, and with enough upward mobility that she could live comfortably assuming she put in the time.
That was her third job interview in the past two weeks, and just like the others, it had gone exceptionally poorly.
Tanya would admit, it was beginning to annoy her. The Empire, for all of its many, many flaws, was at least an equal opportunity playing ground provided you knew how to play the game well enough. Being a child had posed no problem to her advancement then; if anything, her prodigious rise through the ranks had been celebrated as a testament to her abilities.
But here, her age and stature seemed to be dragging her down at every turn.
It’s fine sending children into a dungeon filled with monsters, she thought bitterly, but heaven forbid they want to live a simple life working behind a desk in tenure. Perhaps I should masquerade as a Pallum. I’m certainly short enough.
The thought was only half joking and would certainly have been a temporary measure regardless. She didn’t exactly have many options at this juncture considering the world seemed determined to push her toward the Dungeon, regardless of her preferences in the matter.
A passing adventurer caught sight of her and opened his mouth to say something but clearly thought better of it as he caught sight of her stormy expression, quickly looking away.
That had been happening quite a bit recently; people had been recognizing her even on the street. She had thought that it would simply be a passing thing and that the hype surrounding her duel would have faded into obsolescence, but she was wrong. Her fame and title were as alive as ever.
Little Devil, she thought, likening it back to her previous mantle on the Rhine Front. I suppose it was too much to ask that the title didn’t catch on.
Several more people recognized her as she made her way through the streets but thankfully, none approached, and soon enough the Hostess of Fertility was well within sight.
Tanya pushed through the door with perhaps more force than strictly necessary. Syr, sweeping near the bar, immediately found her eyes and her surprise shifted into a knowing expression
“It didn’t go well, did it?”
Tanya sighed, the tension leaving her shoulders as she made her way to the bar and dropped onto a stool. “No. It did not.”
She set her papers on the counter, and Syr poured her a glass of water without being asked. Tanya accepted it with a nod.
“It seems I’m back to grinding the Dungeon until I grow another foot or two,” she said, her tone flat. “Or until this city develops a system that recognizes competence regardless of appearance.”
Syr hummed softly as she grabbed her broom again. “Mama Mia’s offer still stands, you know.”
Tanya shook her head immediately, the motion sharp and decisive. “I don’t have the patience to deal with drunken idiots asking for autographs. I’m afraid I’d lose more money than I’d make, even assuming the room and board are free.”
“They’re not,” Syr said lightly. “But you might be right. I can’t see you waiting tables with that little scowl you constantly have on your face. You always seem at least a little unhappy.”
Tanya shrugged, turning her eyes to the nearby stairs as heavy footsteps approached. “I had a lot to be unhappy about, until recently.”
She inclined her head as a figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs, yawning heavily. “And good morning to you. Or afternoon. It's well past one, you know?”
A tired grin appeared on Dorian’s face at Tanya’s remark. The man’s usual armor had been traded for something far more casual: a short sleeved shirt and work pants, though a sword hung at his side. It wasn’t dissimilar to his last one, though much smaller and clearly meant to be wielded in one hand.
Which, considering he only had the one left, was probably by design.
“I’d say I’m due some well deserved rest,” he said as he sidled up to the bar beside her, taking a seat. His weight made the chair creak but it held firm as he placed his arm on the bar, giving her a wry smile. “Besides, it’s not as if I’ve got much adventuring to do anymore. Nor anyone to do it with.”
Tanya nodded, not commenting on his somewhat depressive comment. Though Dorian had survived the ambush in the Dungeon, it hadn’t been unscathed. It was clear that the man was still taking his injury and hiatus slash retirement from delving with a clenched jaw.
Syr poured him a glass of water and he thanked her, gulping half of it down in one go. As he set the glass back down, he turned to Tanya. “So, have you heard anything from Licia.”
Tanya shrugged. “By all accounts, she's settling in quite happily with Loki’s Familia. I believe she’s going to the Tenth Floor today with a partner.”
Dorian nodded, seeming satisfied. “I’m glad she’s starting to get some of her spirit back. I was worried that Lor—... I mean Apollo drove it all out of her.”
Tanya didn’t comment on the slip. Leaving the Apollo Familia had been an adjustment for both Dorian and Licia. Thankfully, Apollo had stayed true to their contract and allowed both of them to excuse themselves from his group of sycophants unmolested. At least as far as the god himself was concerned.
Tanya herself, on the other hand...
“Is Mama Mia still considering making a blacklist board,” Tanya asked Syr. The silver-haired woman blinked, before a wry grin appeared on her face.
“I think she said she’d do something much worse if those Apollo jerks keep making trouble,” Syr giggled. “Something about shoving a certain god’s head where his own sun doesn’t shine, I believe she said.”
“Ha! That’d be a sight to see,” Dorian belted a laugh, shaking his head. Tanya smiled, sipping her water.
“That it would,” Syr agreed. “Thankfully, I think they’re starting to get the hint. They don’t ask about you nearly as often as before. I think they’re starting to wonder if you even live here anymore.”
“Maybe I’ll be able to stop taking dinners in my room soon,” Tanya mused.
Though Tanya’s victory over Asterin and Apollo by proxy had cemented her as a force to be reckoned with and earned her no small amount of idolization from the common folk of Orario, it had come with the side effects of completely embarrassing the sun god’s familia.
How could a Level Two lose to an unblessed little girl, they asked. For an adventurer like Asterin to lose as he had had been the ultimate shame. Apollo’s standing among his peers had fallen quite a bit, and Tanya had seen more than one person cracking a joke or two at the expense of the gilded crest his adventurers proudly wore upon their lapel.
As vindicating as it was to cause trouble to the being that had basically tried to enslave her however, it hadn’t come without cost. That cost being, they wouldn’t leave her alone now.
Certainly, they didn’t assault her in the streets, but their ire was certainly felt regardless. As Syr stated, several of them had already visited the Hostess—as everyone knew where she lived, apparently—and made inquiries into her. Tanya had taken to eating in her room simply to avoid the trouble.
Thankfully, Mama Mia wasn’t the type of woman to let her patrons be harassed and quickly sorted it out, but Tanya had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the end of it.
He can’t do anything to me without risking even more public shame. But there are ways to get revenge without making a spectacle of it. Many kings thought themselves invincible only to die to a dagger in the dark.
Though if Apollo were willing to go that far, Tanya should certainly respond with appropriate and overwhelming force. Perhaps she’d take a page out of the Americans' books and give a proportionate response.
I doubt it’d take many artillery spells to render that gaudy mansion a pile of smoking ash, Tanya thought idly. Maybe two or three. With a fourth on top just for good measure.
Though that’d require a focus. Speaking of which...
“We should continue this later tonight,” Tanya said, glancing at the nearby clock. “I just remembered, there’s something I’ve been meaning to check up on.”
Dorian nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ll hop over to the Twilight Manor and see if I can’t get Licia to join us, so you’d best keep your word.”
Nodding, Tanya bid her companions farewell and made her way to her room. Once inside, she quickly stripped out of her stuffy clothes and put on something much more casual. Now that the interview was over, there was no reason to put on airs.
She wrapped her belted holster around her waist, her blade on one side and her Luger on the other. She momentarily regarded the weapon, reminding herself that it was probably time to upgrade now that her funds were her own, before turning her attention to a nearby dresser.
Tanya moved to the dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer, pushing aside a stack of spare clothes to reveal a bundle of cloth at the very back. She unwrapped it carefully, gazing down at her Type 95 as it sat in her hands, dull and lifeless.
The computation orb had been a lifeline in the Empire, but had also been the conduit through which Being X had imposed his will upon her, forcing her to pray in exchange for the strength she needed to live. She had hated it then, and she hated it now, but she couldn’t deny its usefulness.
As she held the object responsible for her survival in so many impossible situations, Tanya found her mind drifting to the one responsible for its usefulness. Being X had been conspicuously silent since she arrived in this world. Not a single whisper, or vision; not even a taunting comment about her circumstances. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he’d simply abandoned her here to live out her life in this polytheistic hell without further interference.
But she did know better.
Being X wasn’t the type to give up on his little pet project so easily. He had invested too much time and effort into his endeavor to simply walk away now. He was around, watching her from on high or wherever he liked to lounge when he wasn’t actively meddling with her life. Or perhaps he was walking the streets in corporeal form, as so many of his kind seemed to do in this world. The thought sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
Either way he wasn’t liable to leave her alone. Not until she bent the knee and pledged her faith to the almighty higher power that he believes himself to be.
Seems we’ll be together for lifetimes, then, Tanya thought, her lips curling into a humorless smile. Or at least until I manage to rid myself of him for good.
Tanya placed the Type 95 back into its bundle and tucked it away before leaving for Babel and a certain dusty shop. If Being X did show his face again to meddle in her life, she would be ready when that moment came.