RP:From Witch Hunt to Job Hunt
Part of the The Prophet of Vakmatharas Arc
Summary: *SIRENS BLASTING* Valrae 2.0 applies for a job working for Queen Josleen. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Repeat: Valrae applies for a job working for Queen Josleen. *SIRENS BLASTING* She gets the job!!!! She's Josleen's Glamor Artist now. Maybe it's magic, maybe it's--yea it's magic.
Job Opening at Fort Freedom Glamor Artist
Fort Freedom seeks a talented Glamor Artist to join the Queen’s Entourage. The Glamor Artist is an experienced illusion weaver who has worked with noble or royal courts and can anticipate the aesthetic needs of their clients. Creative under pressure, detail-oriented and skilled in a variety of glamor magicks including fabric softening, sequinning, skin retouching, body contouring, second-face brightening effects, hair extensions, magical dyes, and other arcano-beauty techniques. S/He reports directly to the Queen and her Head Hand Maiden. The successful candidate will be inspired by the challenge of creating glamor effects in chaotic and crowded spaces, and in executing flawless mago-cosmetic touch ups that hold up to close up scrutiny.
Responsibilities: Produce glamor effects of superb and elegant taste Work closely with the Royal Dressmaker to design unique gowns imbued with illusory elements Present to the Queen trends in glamor effects Build a monthly beauty board to guide the Queen’s aesthetic team
Qualifications 5+ years experience as a glamor artist 3+ years experience working in noble or royal circles Formal magical training at a wizard academy, or apprenticeship under a renowned glamor artist or agency Cross-sensory spell weaving is a plus (olfactory illusions preferred) Ability to work extended hours as needed Ability to travel with the Queen’s Entourage
Are you a resident of Larket?
[ ] Yes [ ] No
Have you ever been employed by, or are you related to someone who is currently or who has in the past been employed by, Fort Freedom?
[ ] Yes [ ] No
Are you willing to subject to an extensive background check by the Larketian Guard?
[ ] Yes [ ] No
Do you belong to any guilds that may require your time or attention unexpectedly?
[ ] Yes [ ] No
Are you a witch?
[ ] Yes [ ] No
Please submit a resume, cover letter, two references, and a lock of hair.
By signing on the line below you hereby declare that all information in your application is true to the fullest extent of your knowledge.
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Fort Freedom
Valrae || Not all of Valrae’s ideas were winners. She knew that. She would probably be the first to admit that. In fact, she was admitting it from the first foot she rode into Larket for the third time in as little as two weeks. The witch hadn’t bothered to tell anyone where she was going. How could she? It was too crazy to explain. Probably Lionel would lock her in a tower somewhere and he wasn’t even the type. ‘Yes, hi. I’m going to apply to a job listing in Larket for a glamour artist. Yes, I will in fact be working for and very closely to the very woman who sentenced me to die and persecuted my people! I’m excited, wish me luck!’, really just didn’t roll off the tongue. Better to say nothing at all, right? So, Valrae had dressed nicely and conservatively. She’d glamoured herself as she habitually did to slip into the public eye and she headed to Larket with her travel papers and forged resume. Her papers were real, Valrae was now Sara Grace Harron. They were courtesy of the actual Sara Grace that had once inhabited her body but died of hypothermia after being caught in a storm in Frostmaw. The background that detailed her as qualified for the job was forged carefully. She’d given considerable coin to a highly recommended document fabricator who lived in the west side slums of Cenril. Maybe he called himself Flea Bag but he’d done flawless work.
Valrae turned her documents over to the personnel fort staff directed her too and was lead to a familiar waiting area. She was sweating. Her palms were sticky. Probably her heart was beating hard enough that anyone getting near enough could hear it. Probably she had a death wish and Queen Josleen would take one look at her and toss her back into the dungeon she’d spend the last days of her previous life in. The witch looked around for somewhere to vomit. There was a plant, a table with papers and magazines, seating, but no wastebasket. Valrae took a steadying breath and tried to contain her nausea. Being escorted out for ruining the Queen’s plants wouldn’t be the worst ending to the day but it wouldn’t lead her any close to her goal either.
Josleen was tired. Her Head Handmaiden Floria had filled her schedule with interviews because the Masquerade Ball in Vhys was fast approaching. Ever since the former glamor artist got knocked up and couldn’t glamor away the morning sickness or dizzy spells, the Queen’s been relying on traditional make-up and overnight creams like a pauper (a pauper who has 1,000 gold a month cosmetics budget, before accounting for a glamor artist’s salary). The fifth interviewer sauntered out of the parlor feeling confident and smug. She grinned at Valrae as if to say ‘Don’t bother, I nailed it.’ What the interviewer didn’t know was that the Queen had already struck her from the list, and that the four interviewers before her wore the same smug grin as she did just then. The Queen had that effect on people, the ability to make them feel important when she wanted them to, small when they crossed her. Valrae would know. “Next!” Floria called. Valrae would be invited to sit in the same love chair she did in her past life, across a gilded coffee from a crushed velvet daybed. The Queen and Floria sat on the daybed with a stack of applications set on the table before them. “Hello, I am Floria, the Queen’s Head Handmaiden.” She made a point to smile, though the fatigue was seeping into her patience. “And you are?” She scanned a quill down a long list of names, ready to strike ‘Sarah Grace Harron.’ The Queen chimed in, “May I offer you water? Tea? A biscuit? Anything to put you at ease, Sarah. I’m grateful you made the trip.” Floria’s smile wavered. Why did the Queen insist on their niceties? The Ball was in a few days. Niceties out of the way, Floria asked the first question, “Your resume is quite impressive, Sara, but your cover letter speaks little about why you are a glamor artist. Why did you choose this profession?” For the sake of speed, the next two questions, from Josleen, “Why do you want to work for me?”
Valrae watched her fellow interviewee leave with a smirk and considered directing her vomit on the very nice heels the other woman walked clumsily on. Instead, she slung her oversize bag onto her shoulder, put on her brightest smile, and entered the Queen’s parlor with her chin high. Valrae introduced herself, “Sara Grace,” The witch chirps politely, moving to shake Floria’s hand and curtsey to the Queen. She took a seat and waved away Josleen’s offers quickly. The familiarity of the situation had the hair on her arms standing on end. “My family hails from Frostmaw,” ‘Sara’ begins. “But we relocated to the Sage area while I was young. When my mother realized I had an aptitude for magic,” Here Valrae feigned a tone of superiority while her face displayed a touch of disgust. “I’m a mage, not a witch.” Her nose wrinkled but she moved on. “I was enrolled in the Academy of Magics and I excelled in illusionary magics. I’m vain enough that I learned quickly how to use them to enhance my own natural features.” Her smile was sheepish. “After I graduated I moved to Cenril and I was driven to the glamour and magical beauty industry that thrives there. I had the opportunity to work with Rijanna and Nikki Mirage. I was drawn to glamour and beauty magics because I’m good at what I do and I enjoy helping other women feel beautiful.” The truth was something closer to Valrae needing them to survive.
Josleen really didn’t need to know that though. Sara Grace was the pretty, maybe a little shallow illusionist mage from Frostmaw. “I want to work for you, Queen, because it’s an excellent opportunity and because,” There was a pause, Valrae carefully arranged her face into a mask of upset and embarrassment. “Well, because personally it would be an honor to work for the woman responsible for seeing justice done to the witches. It’s unprofessional to discuss politics but it’s also the truth.” It wasn’t. The truth was Valrae was caught in some sick death wish. The truth was she’d seen the play Josleen had orchestrated and been moved by the struggle of mother and child. The truth was probably that Valrae needed to know the woman behind the monster that still dominated all of her nightmares.
Josleen smiled meekly, her gaze casting down towards Sarah Grace’s resume. “It doesn’t feel like justice when so many families still suffer, but who can keep score in the grand tapestry of life? We each defend our own to the best of our ability, hm?” Floria canted her head sympathetically to Josleen. “They will soon be well, my Queen,” she cooed. Josleen continued, “And I am sad that so many Larketian families were torn apart by the discovery of the witches’ wickedness. I would have preferred that whole episode not come to pass, and yet here we are. So.” She waved a hand towards a wedding gown on a mannequin to Sarah Grace’s left. “My wedding dress. How would you improve it? Show me what you can do using your skill.” The conservative dress befit a princess, with long lace sleeves and a silken train. Instead of a veil the mannequin donned a mantilla that reached the floor. Delicate beading of pearls accented the bodice.
Valrae didn’t have to fake the troubled look that crossed her face now. It was difficult to see the Queen as a human, with her own struggle and her own trials. The witch had never been a mother but she’d lost a child. There was a small, eternally bleeding place in her heart that could deeply empathise. ‘Sara Grace’ let the moment pass and kept her fingers laced tightly together over her crossed knee. “Oh,” Valrae turned to the wedding dress thoughtfully. It felt like a trick question. She took a quiet moment to study the Queen again. Would it really be prudent to critique the very dress her potential boss wore to her own wedding? It screamed trap. Valrae stood and pursed her lips together. “Well,” The disguised witch draws the word out. She walks around the dress, pretending to study it and not panic. This was the trickiest, most dangerous part of her plan. Valrae had no way of knowing if the Larket monarchy had somehow managed to rebuild or recreate the device that was previously used to detect witch magic. It was simple enough for her to perform as if she were a mage, she had been trained in arcane studies of magic. It wouldn’t be so simple to fool a machine. Val takes a deep breath. If any of her nervousness shined through, it would be easy enough to explain it away as interviewing jitters. Quickly, she moved through the workings of an illusionary spell. It took little under two minutes for her to murmur and move around the dress once more. ‘Sara Grace’ steps aside and smiles hopefully at the Queen and her hand maid. “As a wedding dress, I’m not sure it needed any enhancement beyond a few updates. It’s nice to mix trendy with the classics. It creates a timeless look.” The dress remained conservative, though the sleeves were shortened. Buttons of pearl glimmered at the elbow while the pearl beading on the bodice was traded instead with the small, sparkling crystal that was popular now. The mantilla was similarly shortened and pearled lightly. The ivory was traded for softer, antiquated white.
Josleen circled the mannequin, appraising the gown and glamor artist alike. “Very lovely work. I like the crystal. It wasn’t in fashion then, but I see it on everything now.” She nodded approvingly once more, just as she had for the five interviewers before Valrae. Her congenial expression remained fixed and for every minute it persisted it quickened into something opaque. Luckily for Valrae the Crown was not able to repair or recreate Alvina’s ingenious machine. One thing remained clear, however. Nothing about Josleen’s demeanor suggested this was a trap. Her skin had thickened over the years out of necessity and ego. The crown cannot be donned without attracting critics and sycophants alike. Floria gestured for Valrae to return to her seat then asked, “Tell me about a time when your glamor failed and someone else noticed. How did you resolve the problem?” Then after that question, another “What would you do if an intruder broke into this room right now and attacked the Queen?” Her body swayed toward Josleen at the mere hypothetical, an instinctual sway as if would take an arrow to the chest for the Queen.
Valrae studied the Queen closely. She wasn’t actually invested terribly in the turn out of this application. Honestly, it would be too crazy for her to actually land the job… And then keep it. Right? What the witch had actually intended was to see another side of Josleen, a side that didn’t involve interacting with her or seeing her as an enemy. And she done it, right? This was enough. It had to be, so why was she suddenly pleased to see what she assumed was approval from the Queen? ‘Sara Grace returns to her seat and the spoken part of this interview. “The last time I can remember a glamour failing, it had to do with some unexpected and abrasive magic that had been introduced last minute. The glamour reacted poorly and broke.” She was drawing from a real experience now. The play that drove her here had ended with Josleen’s own song shattering her glamour. “The actress quickly exited her stage and the glamour was reapplied within seconds,” This part was a small fib. There was no actress. “The trick is to have an object of transference on backup.” The witch answers the next question without hesitation. “I would do everything in my power to protect her and neutralize the threat.” Her body did not move but her voice carried conviction. Valrae wasn’t actually sure it was the truth.
Josleen laughed lightly to ease the mild tension Floria inspired with her last question. “Hopefully it would never come to that. The guard are always close, and it is their job to protect us all, not just me.” She smiled disarmingly then looked to Floria to see if there were any more questions to ask. None. Josleen turned back to Valrae and excused her with a polite look. “It’s been a pleasure, Sarah Grace. You’re a strong candidate, though we have a few more applicants to get through. We’ll be in touch if you’re successful.” Floria rose and held Valrae’s hand in that feminine form of a handshake. “Bye bye now,” she said. In a week Sarah Grace would receive good news in the mail. The position is hers. Here are her hours, her pay (comfortable for a single woman), her Fort pass, and her new life.