The Federation of the Southern Coast of Lapérouse; Chantilly
Rochefort Street; Tour Michi du Commerce
March 18th, 2023
Chantilly was both the nickname of the capital of the Federation, and the nickname for the legislature-executive branch. It was a new city, at least in the historic view of the former Lapérousians, now Côtois populace. It was designed back in 1898 as an industrial port, redesigned again in 1909 as an idealistic socialist city and finally started to be built in 1920 as a fresh start for the new country. Capital originally was thought of to be an exemplar of the new regime, uniquely multicultural-multi species socialist paradise. Though in this early time period, multi-species was the primary thought of the native inhabitants, which means Kemonomimi, nocturnal elves, and tieflings. Despite being over 90% Kemonomimi, the creation and design of the final original layout had equal parts of the three species input into it. It had the latest in species equality design, if you ignored every other species on Urth that wasn’t in the Federation. Major and minor aspects of it were thought of, with solutions formed after. The final original designers believed they thought of everything and took their time with it, building according to plan. From the simplified designs that could accommodate any of the three species to something as little as public spacing on sidewalks. In addition to the time it took to plan everything, in a shocking display of function was actually built according to the well thought-out design.
As such it was incredibly unfortunate the other aspect, the multi-cultural ambitions of the capital was… Not as well throughout. The designers had a good heart, bless them they aim to create a city where all the native cultures could intermix and have an open form of communication. They dreamed that through socialism, equalitarian living standards, common language and mutual understanding. Racism would fade away, as the multicultural forms into a new enlightened cosmopolitan culture. Architects and artists from across the Federation coming together to create ‘cultural appreciation’ districts. Their visions of the future unfortunately inadvertently create enclaves, segregation based on ethnicity, and the internetworking of public spaces turned into battlegrounds. The closest thing they had to the dream envisioned by the architects of the new society, was the drug dens in the parks. It turns out centuries of hate, cut throat competition, blood feuds and just the general unpleasantness being earned from history is not erased by warm beds or full plates.
It wasn’t until the 1940s, with the Federation reuniting with her kin Norgsveldet and being brought back into the shaken international order of things where the Red Wallet of the socialist world truly became its own through rather strange means. Storm of issues hit the Norgsveltian dairy market, rancher protests, a minor new-age cult that believed cows were informants for Loki and a fire at the largest dairy making plant resulting in various milk related products raising the price starkly. Meanwhile their kin, the Côtois dairy had a large stockpile of cheese, butter, evaporated & condensed milk. The Côtois populace is going under a cultural fade, mixture of natural occurring and government initiative back in the 30s. Fresh milk was seen as outdated, with ‘industrial milk’ as the new modern dairy beverage of choice. It was one of the few occasions with direct state planning to produce on a large scale across petite-national borders, and it just so happened that District de la République-Capitale, was a perfect place to export being in between half a dozen rivers as well as a rail connection. Majority of the city was torn down, well what the Federal government could tear down that was and rebuilt with modular structures. Concrete walls and roofs were railed in from across the Federation in a rapid pace as the spirit of the city breathed a new life in its brutalistic styles.
Thus the new life was breathed into the city, brandishing a new name Chantilly, well it’s unofficial name at least. Gone were the decaying dreams of the forgotten architects’ unique designs, swept away by bulldozers and demolition crews. In with concrete and steel mass fabricated soaring tall into the blue sky, looking down the flow of cargo containers being loaded onto waiting ships. Dairy saved the city, but it didn’t keep it alive but it gave a second chance just in time for when the Côtois government was looking back at Batkong to be it’s capital and be rid of it’s failure. This new life as an industrial port, brought another form of business, one that would keep it alive. The convenience of having the beating heart of the Côtois federal governance, various NGOs that followed after and the trade heavy ports led to the logical conclusion for the eager foreign investors to set up their headquarters not in Batkong but in Chantilly. They weren’t alone in that regard, as the various cooperative firms and alike followed after establishing their headquarters in the growing city. The 40s and 50s boomed to life as more concrete was poured to lay its foundations.
The third and final time the city was reimagined was during the great social upheaval in the 70s and 80s, as a new wave brought forth old ideas. The industrial ports while still flowing was not the booming industry it once was, and the brutalist architecture made way for the return of the old original design of a cosmopolitan city. One more fitting for the growing opportunities of the private sector, as financial services became its focal point. Rochefort street, though it was in reality a rather large district, was rarely touched in the various changes and redesigns of the city. Kept away from the government district for obvious ideological and optics reasons. Allowing various Rochefortian Cooperatives, full cooperatives, and all manner of classification of economic bureaucratic tomfoolery gather both foreign and domestic investment. Interaction with the growing world market being a matter of fact, rather than being blinded by some nonsense of eternal autarky colored red.
The streets of the district named after a street were always well lit up. To make up for the sprawling skyscrapers blocking out the sun, the names of buildings have to be lightened up by neon lights directed towards it. Financial regulation was always tight in the Federation, strictly followed to the letter and all other manner of fancy words to say the firms that operate within the finance sector were closely watched and managed by the Federal government. When FPM Pierre loosened up regulations and restrictions, she suddenly became the most popular person on the street. Talk of the investment firms’ executive directors and beloved by fund managers of all sorts everywhere. Even those not operating within the finance sector grew to love her presence in the highest office of the land. Pierre being a devoted believer in the Mint Strategy theory, which gave a new lens on foreign policy and that socialism can be pushed better through economic means rather than pure platformism. Rumor has it that the Gyllir boardroom burst into joy, though such rumors have little water. Being able to expand its operations without the high bars into various nations that ended up on her approval list. Naming the RCEU member nations, and among a few others limited in number, in other words as long as a nation is on the good side of the Federation. They are more likely than not to be placed on that list, and unleash the pent-up funds lazily in various funds to be put into use.
Pierre made many friends in Rochefort Street, and even more outwards from the nation. One such person got themselves onto Pierre’s happy business list being the Exile-President of Jarisven. Though getting the firms who look at the list with interest and then managing a meeting several times together is always a challenge in itself. Getting a whole room of them to give a pitch, being next to impossible even with friends in higher echos of power. Yet the old Exile-President had the best friend of them all when it came to power, or at least she was deemed to be useful for the FPM’s plans. As such a meeting was held in the third tallest skyscraper in the district, the Michi Commercial Tower.
They could at least keep an open mind towards her as she made her pitch in the boardroom on the highest floor. Open mind either by the quiet suggestions to take the meeting from whispering friends of friends, or having been wrangled into the meeting by a silvery kitsune. The room of uncaring eyes staring up at her, some caring bored looks, others seeming to be more interested and others here for the free wine.
‘Gods this is nerve wrecking.’ Sylvi thought to herself as she looked towards every possible investor in the room. Especially that she knew it be an hard to sell some these people to invest into Jarisven after the hopeful successful overthrow of the Jonis’s regime when she cannot promise how much the infrastructure will be left, nor even fully promise specific financial policies with how there are competing voices within the country itself and even her own coalition. There were Agrarian Populists, Ulvriktru Socialists, Social Liberals and various degrees of conservatives that made up the democratic movement that she led. Still the blonde elven woman kept a fake smile on her lips, as she straightened her yellow tie. Wearing an otherwise typical suit. Before speaking in an extremely accented Frakanic, one which could be bit difficult to understand at times.
“Thank you all for giving me a moment of your time. I think everyone here can agree that while the current tyrannical government in Ovijrin was surely made improvements from how things were three to four decades ago, with no longer being as self sabotaging with their financial policies, it still not going for the full Jarisvi potential.” She spoke in a professional tone that had the hint of hopeful optimism she often tried to keep in public as much as internally she had lost it. “Osfjord based economists, like Malista Hedas, has long pointed out that as a result of Darzists old financial policies the country had remained largely agrarian. And because of the country’s isolation it has failed to modernise its agriculture sector. Even with some the minor modernization efforts done by Tarvan Jonis this last decade, Jarisven remains by and large frankly backwards in this dimension. It is my belief that while Jarisven naturally needs modernisation in every field of economics, it is in agriculture our largest employer, where we would need it most.” She took a moment to lean on the table keeping her hopeful and optimistic act before speaking up again. “It is also the field that has the least need of overt government reform, largely majority of farms owned by farmers themselves. No need to force sales of old state run companies or the like, as such dealing with legal battles and competition for control. One can just immediately do business with the people.”
A kemonomimi man with a silvery fox tail spoke up first, tilting his head towards the woman as he poured himself a glass of wine. “We’re not Osfjordian economists, but our own research has pointed towards that.” The man also politely named Raimund Sourd, friend of Pierre and the silent deal maker between various firms when expansion to other nations were being done. “Modernisation carries a heavy price tag, I take it you have a guarantee of some sort of a loan for infrastructure? As for the farmers, are they mostly family run or collective? Small land holders tend to get into debt when it comes to modernizing agriculture, will it be done through the government or are you implying we will deal it giving out loans more directly to the farmers?”
“It is quite expensive that is very much a fair point, Mr. Sourd. But so would this entire endeavor be.” She gave a small nod of respect towards the investor, as she took a moment to process the question before going on. “The farms are family run so they will be needing help to modernise. And while I cannot promise anything directly how the government would push for this…” She gave a quick glance towards her wedding ring, keeping her smile as best she could before looking up at him. “I can promise that most within my government, and those working with us within Jarisven will put a great deal of focus on this modernisation. So there is plenty of willingness to take out loans for this.”
“While I’m not doubting that, there is concern that Jarisven would end up defaulting on any loan. The Jarisven credit rating is not that high after all. With what collateral would your government be putting up? In addition to the agriculture aspect, there are the mineral reserves that I know a few faces here would be interested in on capitalizing. Which would be far less risky and expensive to modernize the sector on.” He placed down his wine glass after his small sip of it. “Another aspect of course is the Jarsiven state run companies, quite a few of which are meant for factories and refining material. Is it to my understanding your government would keep them?”
“Well over the course of Jonis’s reforms from bringing in shady businesses from other nations like Blåskog, Rikevaarland and the like. There was a group of PGP elite that turned themselves into well oligarchs. A lot of their wealth can be used as collateral, or in all honesty likely be seized beforehand to pay for said loans to begin with.” She said trying to assure them as her mind thought of ways to go about the other sectors of the economy. “For the minerals it is already quite modernised in terms of equipment and technique, though not to the same standards as you Côtois likely used to, the issue there has been more on investing into the expansion of current mining operations. Especially along the western interior which has been less invested in compared to the east.” She took a moment to just steady herself to also ensure her facade did not dissipate. “For the state run companies its difficult to state, it will depend on how profitable they may be, the funds that we have and the natural possible consequences of selling them. We are hardly gonna jump head first into privatisation, but changes will need to be made.”
There were a few murmurs between half a dozen kemonomimi to her furthest left of the boardroom. Mr. Sourd spoke up again, quieting them down with a mere glance towards them. His eyes turning back to the elven woman, keeping his eyes firmly onto hers. Seizing wealth of the rich is not uncommon though given it is the Federation, and to be frank nationalizing Blaskovian assets would net her a few investors just out of spite. “I believe expansions to the western interior would be suitable, depending on the railway quality there. I think we can all understand your unique situation, so I won’t press on the state run firm aspects however there is the aspect of manufacturing. If we brought in products, such as Gyllir cars.” He made a gesture towards the Gyllir representative. “Would be facing high native tariffs, or some sort of uncompetitive dealings. I’m not just speaking of cars of course, I believe the toaster collective cooperative would riot again if they faced anti-competitive measures again after the Ymir situation.” It sounded like a joke, but he was stone cold serious. Added the aspect of a elderly elf in the far back corner giving a nod, looking strong towards the exiled president.
“Right…” She struggled to keep her smile at that, simply giving a nod back before clearing her throat. “While tariffs will be a matter, we are dealing case by case basis, differing opinions about that matter. I can state that the plans will be to at least try keeping as low tariffs with the RCEU. It naturally depends on what the policy will have on us as well. We do not want to seek the same policies which kept my country uncompetitive in the world market, but at the same time we will have to react to any tariffs placed on us.”
Voice rose from her right, a short and, it be polite to say plump woman speaking up before Sourd had a chance to respond. “You could join the RCEU, that certainly makes this process smoother on our end, less paperwork, proper economic direction and all that.” She leaned back in her chair taking a bite from her orange, peel included.
“She does have a point, the RCEU does recognize and include exiled governments in its ranks however. That requires a different sort of discussion that cannot happen in these walls.” Sourd gave a sharp look towards the woman before back towards the Jarisvi. “Beyond that, you seem keen on the agriculture industry. So can you explain what is the most common grown crop in your country? Of course, there is another question of what sort of economic direction or plan do you have for Jarsiven? Assuming all factors of course.”
“Well, the matter of joining the RCEU will likely be more… longer process. Though too not be too distracted on that, as there are quite a few variables on that front. I can tell you all that it is, at least in my ambition, and hope, that once Jarisven is rebuilt that a more prosperous and open Jarisven will stand on the ashes of the old. One where Jarisven is more connected to larger markets of the world, and where my country could even act as a bread basket for the region.” Sylvi tried her best to sound more confident and strong. Though in all honestly it was getting a mentally exhausting for her. Afterall, these were promises she really cannot guarantee she can keep. Even if she could get everyone with her own government to agree, she yet to even talk with the folks who was gonna do the actual overthrowing. What to say they’d side with her wishes? Though she shook those thoughts away as she cleared her throat. “My country does produce a lot of wheat and corn already despite lacking modern practices, if we were to get the right investments and guidance in this sector. Well who knows we could even rival Tretrid on Novaris when it comes to agriculture!” She said with a small confident laugh, though she was very much exaggerating.
“Agriculture? We have plenty of agricultural fields to invest in already and they are in the RCEU.” A voice quietly spoke up from somewhere in the crowd. Then another started spoke up, “We asked about it idiot.” The same voice coming back in a harsher tone. “Better watch yoursel-”
“Rival Tretrid is a rather bold claim, and politically… Interesting section to be discussed later when in an alternative company.” Mr. Sourd spoke up before the two idiots with company checkbooks started to properly fight. “Though I do find your direction rather… broad. How-” A loud bell rang out through the building, as row after row stood up and single file left the room without batting a tail swing towards the exiled president. Leaving only Mr. Sourd and Sylvi in the room. The silvery haired kitsune rubbed his forehead as he checked his watch. “My apologies, it’s lunch time… We’re rather serious about our lunch breaks.” He gave a sigh as the last suited man left the room. “Can I offer you lunch?” He raised his head again as he stood up.
Sylvi scratched the side of her arms a bit nervously as she looked over the kitsune’s head and towards the row of investors leaving the room. Being quiet until the last one left, causing her to let out a small sigh as she looked towards Sourd. “That would be… much appreciated.” She said in a quiet, bit exhausted tone, trying to give him a smile even if it was a small one.
The kitsune walked over towards her from his centralized desk, holding onto a suitcase. “You know, I don’t even keep anything in here.” Sourd lifted up his suitcase. “It’s actually just a bunch of hot air in here.” He gave a returning small smile.
Sylvi let out a small chuckle as gathered some of her documents, putting them back into her dossier. Though her voice was still low, no longer keeping the same level of enthusiasm as she had earlier. “Thank you by the way. I noticed you were trying to help me during the meeting.” She held her dossier under her arm as she waited for him to guide ahead.
“Thank our mutual angry friend.” The deal maker gave a nod towards her letting her follow him out of the room.
–
Raimund Sourd took the exiled president to a simplistic restaurant, down the street. No rich decor that one would expect in a financial district, but keeping to true the old Laperousian design philosophies of strong walls around each table. Keep a degree of isolation from the customers from each other, which had the added effect of keeping things private. The walls around the table were somewhat gothic inspired, with a mixture of brutalistic concrete tying together the worn-out imagery of metal fences with arrow heads around it. Sourd guided the woman to a table, and pushed a button on the outside wall of their table. Then took his seat across from her.
“We will be given menus shortly enough.” He spoke in a far more cheerful tone. “Would you like some wine or do you prefer tea and water?” The kitsune looked up at her.
“Gods I’d gladly take some wine right now…” Sylvi said in an genuine exhausted tone as she leaned over slightly, rubbing her forehead for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh as she brushed her long blonde hair back before straightening her back again. “Sorry, just a bit exhausted.” She let out a weak chuckle at that as she looked down at the kitsune in front of her.
“Oh I can bet, our business customs here can be a bit more unorthodox and aggressive. Sadly, our Akuan greeter canceled on us at the last minute. So I try to step in to manage things.” Raimund looked behind him and pulled back a small cupboard built into the wall. Taking out two glasses to place on the table, and a bottle of wine. Taking out his wallet, withdrawing a small red and purple card to place on the table. “One of my favorite things about this restaurant is they accept government winery support cards here.” He gave a small chuckle, pouring them both a glass of wine. “It’s a genetic blend but it’s free, well basically free, not technically free.”
“Well a lot of things with the Federation seems a bit unorthodox to put it more mildly. Though I of course appreciate all the support given.” She smiled as she then grabbed the glass taking a heavy sip from it before putting it down. “I am hardly gonna complain about you treating me, Mr. Sourd. In all due honesty, you’ve done a lot for me already.”
“Mrs. Pierre gave you high recommendations, and I can see why. Though I think she did set you up for failure. Throwing you to the vargs instead of having more one-on-one meetings.” Côtois man took a sip from his wine glass. “Probably didn’t attend too, an oversight if you will.”
“Well if this is how she set up those high on her list, I cannot help but fear for those who are low on hers.” Sylvi said with a small snort at her own joke, before shaking her head. “Though it doesn’t mean I’m finished yet afterall, I’ll try to get in contact with some of the more interested investors. In a one-on-one environment as you said.”
“Let’s just say Madame Pierre can sometimes confuse people with how she expresses support.” Raimund gave a small chuckle. “She once had me picked up in a van, I thought I did something wrong and was going to get screamed at. Instead, she just wanted to wish me a personal happy birthday. I think she enjoys messing with people in that way.” He gave a shake of his head before raising a smile on his lips. “I am happy to arrange that, you said you wanted to focus on agriculture? Lucky for you, our mutual friend happens to be a rather keen supporter of such endeavors, though she greatly prefers it staying within the RCEU. It’s a big hurdle to get over.”
“That is a lot of the issue with all this, now isn’t it?” Sylvi said with a sigh as she looked down at her glass, moving it side to side with her fingers. The wine swirling around in the glass. “They want to know the details, the specifics of things I don’t even know myself. I have coalition partners who fight over the most pedantic bu-” She stopped up for a moment as she glanced towards the kitsune, recognising her voice was growing more frustrated than it needed to be. Another sigh left her lips as she took a sip from her glass, though only a small one. “When I have coalition partners that being, difficult over minor issues, it becomes difficult to promise any concrete financial agreements for a government that, well, even I won’t fully know what would look like.”
“Interesting.” Raimund gave a raised eyebrow as he took another sip at his wine before placing it back down onto the table. Leaning back for a moment, as he considered his options. “Rather difficult situation, and more importantly seems with available information I would say our friend is jumping the candle on this, but I’m not privy to such insights she has.” Scratching his chin, letting the silence grow for a quick second before he spoke again. “How long will you be here in the Federation?”
“Not for too long, roughly a week. I will be having a meeting with Pierre herself, even if the meeting is likely more for show for the cameras than anything else.” Sylvi put down her glass again as she looked over towards him. Thinking for a moment how to word out the next part. “While naturally there are some things I cannot tell, I can reveal that there is a reason why I felt more confident in talking about the agriculture sector. The politics and economics in play make it that I can say confidence that there be a lot focus on that, even if some specifics may vary I can make some well, genuine promises in that field.”
“If you are able to, stay longer. It makes arranging meetings far easier on the both of us, and well I think you are going to have to develop a working relationship with a few of them given the boardness of what you can offer. So hope you are good at four round golf.” He gave a small laugh, before shaking his head. “If you need housing, you can stay at my son’s cottage on our Kinship lot. He is off to university and rarely visits anyhow.”
“I guess my late husband’s love for golf came useful after all, got me into the sport after we went into exile.” She said with a more genuine chuckle, one that felt like such a rarity her mood having improved quite a bit from how it was earlier. “I’ll try to stay longer then. If you truly don’t mind me using said cottage.”
“I don’t mind at all, be nice having others around the lot outside of the occasional fox pack roaming into my garden.” He gave a warm chuckle, as the door to their booth opened up.