Hildesey, Prydania
Styrkar Walstad stood in the courtyard of the Grand Hildesey Hotel. The fountains that once flowed with water were barren, the facade cracked, dirty, and falling apart, but the fence that once said “KEEP OFF- CITY OF HILDESEY PROPERTY” now said “PRIVATE PROPERTY OF THE SPILVEL GROUP.”
Styrkar hopped on one foot as the festive ambient music from the Spilvelland park down the road where he worked still rang in the back of his head. It was lodged there, like a bug that he couldn't shake, but that was the point. To be catchy. He hummed the music as he looked around at the old hotel facade and sighed. He had no idea what his boss would say when he got here, and crickets started to chirp. Yep. Sundown. He looked at his watch. Far be it from him to complain about his boss being late… but it was ten past when he was told to meet here. And he was on time.
“Foreigners,” he muttered, before he shook his head. Lord knows there were plenty of reasons for people to prejudge him. He shouldn't fall into that trap with others. He ran his hand through his dirty blond hair. It was a new look for him. Usually he'd kept it buzzed, but this job had been something of a fresh start for him. New job, new outlook, new Styrkar.
He looked up at the hotel. Strangely for a hotel in the middle of the Prydanian countryside, the hotel had stylings common to Iteria or northeastern Meterra. Probably because it was built to be a sort of attraction in its own right, a luxurious treat for those visiting the small Prydanian town visiting Spilvel’s headquarters back in the day.
Of course the stylings provided an interesting challenge. If “phase 2,” as the suits called it, was going ahead, how would Styrkar and his team integrate it into the rest of the park and the resort they wanted? Thematic cohesion was something he took seriously. It not only made Spilvelland stand out, but it captured the kids' imaginations and made it a must-see sort of place.
And Styrkar liked thinking about it. There were a lot of parallels between this job and his old job, as morbid as that sounded, but thematic cohesion and immersion were things that were unique to what he did now. And they were pure. Creative, innocent, fun. He really liked that.
He heard it just now. A low rumble. He looked towards the road that led to the hotel’s front, and a Miðland SUV came pulling up, with the Spilvelland logo on the door. A slim, thin man with chestnut hair and wearing glasses, which seemed to compliment his green suit, stepped out.
“Herra Walstad!”
Styrkar smiled.
“Herra Charrier,” he said. He'd met Jérémie-Augustin Charrier a few times. He wouldn't call him a friend, but he was his boss and he got on well enough with him. He was never unreasonable.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Jérémie-Augustin said, sounding apologetic. His apologetic tone cut right through his thick Santonian accent as he spoke Prydanian. Which was quite good, accent not withstanding.
“People at the office just wouldn't let me get out of there.”
“Don't worry about it,” Styrkar replied with a smile. He wasn't going to make a fuss over it, even if he was privately complaining not too long ago.
“It's a nice night. Nice and quiet. I lost track of time as-is.”
“Well,” Jérémie-Augustin said, looking up at the hotel, “let's get to it?”
“After you, boss.”
Jérémie fished the front door’s keys out of his pocket and opened the old hotel. The doors creaked like only doors over a hundred years old could creak. The Prydanian Civil War actually ended on the week of the hotel's one hundredth birthday, having opened in June 1917. Not that the hotel was in use by then. It had been ransacked and let to rot in the early 2000s, after the Syndicalists seized power.
Styrkar hit some lights. Not the fixtures, no. These lights were attached to scaffolding his team had erected months ago through the lobby. The old Itero-Meterran styles came to life, even under the dust, dirt, and grime. The hotel was ransacked in the early 2000s, but it hadn't had a proper refurbishment since the mid 80s. Still, the old glamour seemed to peek through the neglect.
“So,” Jérémie said, “what's the verdict?”
“It's either good or bad news, depending on what you and the rest of management wants to hear.”
“Try me.”
Strykar shrugged as he walked around the old lobby, taking in the sites of the once grand space.
“The bones of the building are as solid as the day they were built. The update in the 80s gave us a good base to work from for water and electricity. A lot of it would have to be gutted, but the structure is still suitable.”
“How's that bad news?”
“Figured there's a chance you and the rest of management would want an excuse to tear the thing down. Start fresh. But I see no reason why the base structure couldn't be repurposed.”
“We were actually hoping this would be the case,” Jérémie replied.
“This building has character. And it's unique, certainly in Prydania. We were hoping it would be intact enough to keep. We want to incorporate it into phase two of the resort.”
“Well that's another thing, we’d need to figure out how that's going to work. I mean we have a few parts of the park based on Saintonge, but outside of that? This sort of style isn't really present.”
“Já…” Jérémie said, looking around.
“We’ll figure that out I’m sure. But I want to hear your thoughts. Let's grab a drink and dinner. How does Flora’s sound?”
“I don't think I’ve ever been there after hours?”
“Come on. We’ll get some pizza and beer, and you’ll tell me your thoughts.”
Styrkar shrugged and nodded, following his boss out. He wasn't going to turn down an invitation that had pizza and beer involved.
----
A theme park is a different sort of place after hours. The walkways, usually full of people, are empty. The air, full of chatter, is nearly silent. Even that catchy ambient music that danced in the back of Styrkar’s head was gone from the now silent PAs. Employees in minifigure and mascot costumes walked too and fro, holding their oversized heads as they headed back to the cast member locker rooms.
Still, the park wasn't dead. Flora’s, the main sitdown restaurant in the park’s Main Street, was still operating. Cast members, executives, and other employees congregated here after hours. Jérémie grabbed a table near the bar and Styrkar sat down.
“So Styrkar, you don't seem enthused about the hotel.”
“It's a beautiful old building,” he replied.
“But I look around at this park, we have lands here with a sci-fi theme, we have that Skandan-inspired land, fantasy with a Santonian flavour, adventure…”
“The viking land’s coming,” Jérémie added with a smile.
“Finally!” Styrkar replied with a chuckle. “You all should have listened to my team.
“We should have,” Jérémie said with a laugh of his own.
“But you have to see it our way! Vikings are exotic in Saintonge! It was an attraction at the Saintonian park! We didn't think it would be desirable here in Prydania, since there's viking culture everywhere already.”
“Ah, but we’re a proud people,” Styrkar said with a wink.
“Prydanians still view Spilvel as Prydanian, and they wanted vikings in Spilvelland!”
“Hey you were right we weren't, that's fair enough,” Jérémie chuckled.
“But you see,” Styrkar added as a waiter brought a pitcher of beer and some mugs.
“That's another eclectic theme. We put a lot of work into making sure each land in the park is self contained so you don't see the other lands from wherever you are, but it's going to bleed over to a degree. And guests will go from one to another to another and then to a hotel that looks like it came out of 1917 Iteria or Meterra. If we keep the theming, which you seem to want to.”
"Well like I said back there, it's unique,” Jérémie said as he poured two mugs of beer.
“No wine?” Styrkar asked.
“Prydanian beer is growing on me. It's a perfect way to cool down in the summer.”
“Já it is,” Styrkar replied, as he sipped.
“Anyway,” Jérémie continued, “it's unique. No other hotel in Prydania is styled like that. Spilvelland lets people come here to experience a world of tomorrow or a land of high fantasy. Lets you interact with buildings that are like life-sized Spilvel sets. This place is about selling an experience that you can't get anywhere else, at least not on this continent. The hotel is part of that.”
“I see,” Styrkar replied.
“I mean… it's doable. But if the theme is going to be kept, that mostly leaves us with logistics.”
Jérémie smiled slyly, knowing he was about to unveil something to Styrkar he knew he'd be excited for.
“When I said Spilvelland in Prydania was a unique place for this continent, I may have been underselling it. We want to make it a unique experience the world over.”
“What?” Styrkar chuckled, sipping his beer.
“You're going to shut down the Santonian park?” he asked incredulously, knowing that would never happen.
“No, no we’re not,” Jérémie replied.
“But the Plaisance park is confined on all sides by built-up areas. We are practically abutting the town hall of Florencelle.” While it was true that the Plaisance park was so big it extended from the city of Plaisance to four adjacent suburban communes, there was little land to expand, and indeed, only a wall separated Spilvelland Plaisance from the new mairie of Florencelle, one of the communes that covered the park and had also benefitted from the tax incom.
“Meanwhile here?” Jérémie contrasted the two Spilevellands. “We’re on the outskirts of Hildesy. There's… room to expand here. That there isn't in Saintonge.”
“Expand?” Styrkar asked with a raised eyebrow. A million thoughts ran through his head, which is why he wanted his boss to clarify.
“We’ve been buying up land. And trust me, we don't need it for the toy factory. This is for the park. Or should I say parks.”
“Parks? You're building another park? Is that why you bought me beer and pizza?” he laughed.
“You're about to dump more work on me?”
“Guilty, but I think you’ll like digging into what we had in mind.”
“Perhaps,” Styrkar mused.
“Once the viking land is added, Spilvelland Prydania will be the same, more or less, as Spilvelland Saintonge. Same lands, rides, food, everything. But we want to build at least one more park here. Maybe two more. We’re taking it one step at a time, but a second park is absolutely on the horizon, and it's not just a park. We want a shopping and visitor centre at Kristal Lake just north of the hotel.”
Styrkar leaned back in his chair, not even moving to grab some pizza as the waiter brought it. His boss was not so restrained, but Jérémie could see the wheels turning in Styrkar’s mind.
Indeed, he was envisioning it. Kristal Lake, with that peninsula that jutted into it, he was envisioning some restraints and stores, a main street that could lead to the hotel… maybe a people mover system they used in the park to get people to and fro
“We’re thinking of putting the second park to the southwest of the lake and hotel. This new shopping and dining centre would form the nexus of a proper all in one resort. Visitors wouldn't need to leave Spilvelland property. Everything they'd need would be here."
“How forward thinking,” Styrkar said with a smirk before he visualized the map of the area in his head.
“Wait… the second park… that land, isn't it part of the old Capital West Agricultural Homestead?” His tone turned dower when he said that.
“It, um, is… the family that owned the farmland that became the homestead’s eastern area didn't have use for that section when it was repatriated to them. Apparently the Syndicalists…”
“... turned it into storage and guards barracks and chemical sheds. Já, I know.”
“Ah, I um… I guess you would,” Jérémie said awkwardly. He was perhaps foolish to think this area could be brought up without this coming up.
“Anyway, they didn't have use for it, they sold it to us. And we added it to some surrounding land we bought and we have the room for a second park.”
“Umhm,” Styrkar replied as he leaned forward to take a slice of pizza and munch on it. He was thinking. It was almost poetic. But was it a poem he wanted to tell? Maybe some subject matter was better left unaddressed.
Jérémie could sense his lead civil engineer’s unease.
“Think of it as a chance to revisit some past… well… revisit the past and do right” he said as he struggled on how to word that sentiment.
Styrkar almost snapped at his boss and he thanked God he had a mouthful of pizza to stop him and give him a chance to reflect.
“I didn't want to revisit it at all, to be honest,” he said as he swallowed.
“But it's hardly new. I revisit it every day.”
“You do?”
“Come on, Jérémie,” he said softly.
“You know my skill set. And what I did. It can't be a shock to you that I see parallels in what I do today to what I used to do.”
“Not to get too high on the company line,” Jérémie replied, “but I figured the wimsy of a theme park would have made up for that.”
Styrkar chuckled. It was such an earnest response he couldn't help but appreciate it.
“One would think, but the mechanics of a prison camp- and don't let your neutral Santonian sensibilities misguide you, that's exactly what I was tasked with designing with the Agricultural Homesteads- and a theme park aren't that different at the end of the day. Efficient layout. Efficient crowd management. How do you best position security to keep order? How do you best position checkpoints? Crowd flow. Lodging. Food. Logistics of moving and housing people, staff… all of this stuff. If you want me to be honest? On an autistically granular level? It's the same shit.”
“I mean… I see that. But you aren't… I mean… I hope you're not dwelling on that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I hope I’m not giving you PTSD.”
“Any trauma I have I deserve,” Styrkar said softly as he ate more pizza.
Jérémie didn't know what to say, he ate his own pizza in silence for a moment as the quiet buzz of off hour theme park staff enjoyed dinner around them.
“Sorry, boss,” Styrkar added.
“Sometimes that autistically granular voice needs to be shut the fok up. ‘cause I know what I do now isn't really the same thing. But I won't lie. The land you bought? I’m liable to get behind the wheel of a bulldozer myself and level the whole damn remnants of what I designed back then.”
“Well I suppose I can't blame you.”
“Maybe literally erasing it and replacing it with something nice and fun will be good. I’ll need to check with my therapist."
“Well maybe the theme will help.”
“Ah já. This second theme park partially built over the bones of a prison camp. What's the theme?” he asked sardonically.
“We're kicking around either ‘Framtíðarsviði’ or ‘Futurefield,’ probably the Mercanti name for international marketing. But the idea is a permanent world's fair. It's going to be a place where people are educated on industry, science, culture, and they’ll experience futuristic technology. We have sponsors lined up already. We’ll have a world showcase too. Think a pavilion to showcase Prydanian culture. We’d have one for Saintonge too, but also ones for any other country you and your team want to feature.”
“We have Tomorrowland in the main park,” Styrkar replied, not sounding cyclical, but more so testing his boss on the idea behind the concept.
“Think those themes but expanded. A place to celebrate dreaming of a better tomorrow and a world where we come together. Seems like a good redemption arc for part of a prison camp.”
“Hmmm…” Styrkar murmured.
“This is all a bit more involved than a hotel refurbishment.”
“It's all connected,” Jérémie said.
“One big expansion.”
Part of Styrkar wanted to quit. It was all too much in some ways, and the spike of anxiety and guilt was enough to make him consider it for a brief moment. Still, he'd spent too much time trying to move on to let a spur of the moment notion derail the career he'd built for himself.
“Sure. I take it you and the rest of management have your ideas. We’ll convene on Monday, if you're able, and we’ll start mapping it out. And then we’ll know what we need from the geological surveys.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Jérémie said softly, with an affirming smile.
“But I should head out. I need to get some sleep. And think about this. A lot to process and all. Thanks for the dinner, boss.”
He stood and smiled at Jérémie and headed out before he heard his boss.
“Styrkar?”
“Já?”
“Sorry. If I touched on any sensitive subjects.”
“Trust me, boss, you're not the one who should be apologizing for anything.”
He left Flora’s. The park was still eerie, still empty. He hummed the catchy music that wasn't playing, as he left. Would building over something horrible he'd helped build before really make it better? Probably not. But he had to live with it either way. Getting angsty about it wouldn't do him any good.
OOC Note- thanks to @Kyle for helping with the post and helping write part of it.
Styrkar Walstad stood in the courtyard of the Grand Hildesey Hotel. The fountains that once flowed with water were barren, the facade cracked, dirty, and falling apart, but the fence that once said “KEEP OFF- CITY OF HILDESEY PROPERTY” now said “PRIVATE PROPERTY OF THE SPILVEL GROUP.”
Styrkar hopped on one foot as the festive ambient music from the Spilvelland park down the road where he worked still rang in the back of his head. It was lodged there, like a bug that he couldn't shake, but that was the point. To be catchy. He hummed the music as he looked around at the old hotel facade and sighed. He had no idea what his boss would say when he got here, and crickets started to chirp. Yep. Sundown. He looked at his watch. Far be it from him to complain about his boss being late… but it was ten past when he was told to meet here. And he was on time.
“Foreigners,” he muttered, before he shook his head. Lord knows there were plenty of reasons for people to prejudge him. He shouldn't fall into that trap with others. He ran his hand through his dirty blond hair. It was a new look for him. Usually he'd kept it buzzed, but this job had been something of a fresh start for him. New job, new outlook, new Styrkar.
He looked up at the hotel. Strangely for a hotel in the middle of the Prydanian countryside, the hotel had stylings common to Iteria or northeastern Meterra. Probably because it was built to be a sort of attraction in its own right, a luxurious treat for those visiting the small Prydanian town visiting Spilvel’s headquarters back in the day.
Of course the stylings provided an interesting challenge. If “phase 2,” as the suits called it, was going ahead, how would Styrkar and his team integrate it into the rest of the park and the resort they wanted? Thematic cohesion was something he took seriously. It not only made Spilvelland stand out, but it captured the kids' imaginations and made it a must-see sort of place.
And Styrkar liked thinking about it. There were a lot of parallels between this job and his old job, as morbid as that sounded, but thematic cohesion and immersion were things that were unique to what he did now. And they were pure. Creative, innocent, fun. He really liked that.
He heard it just now. A low rumble. He looked towards the road that led to the hotel’s front, and a Miðland SUV came pulling up, with the Spilvelland logo on the door. A slim, thin man with chestnut hair and wearing glasses, which seemed to compliment his green suit, stepped out.
“Herra Walstad!”
Styrkar smiled.
“Herra Charrier,” he said. He'd met Jérémie-Augustin Charrier a few times. He wouldn't call him a friend, but he was his boss and he got on well enough with him. He was never unreasonable.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Jérémie-Augustin said, sounding apologetic. His apologetic tone cut right through his thick Santonian accent as he spoke Prydanian. Which was quite good, accent not withstanding.
“People at the office just wouldn't let me get out of there.”
“Don't worry about it,” Styrkar replied with a smile. He wasn't going to make a fuss over it, even if he was privately complaining not too long ago.
“It's a nice night. Nice and quiet. I lost track of time as-is.”
“Well,” Jérémie-Augustin said, looking up at the hotel, “let's get to it?”
“After you, boss.”
Jérémie fished the front door’s keys out of his pocket and opened the old hotel. The doors creaked like only doors over a hundred years old could creak. The Prydanian Civil War actually ended on the week of the hotel's one hundredth birthday, having opened in June 1917. Not that the hotel was in use by then. It had been ransacked and let to rot in the early 2000s, after the Syndicalists seized power.
Styrkar hit some lights. Not the fixtures, no. These lights were attached to scaffolding his team had erected months ago through the lobby. The old Itero-Meterran styles came to life, even under the dust, dirt, and grime. The hotel was ransacked in the early 2000s, but it hadn't had a proper refurbishment since the mid 80s. Still, the old glamour seemed to peek through the neglect.
“So,” Jérémie said, “what's the verdict?”
“It's either good or bad news, depending on what you and the rest of management wants to hear.”
“Try me.”
Strykar shrugged as he walked around the old lobby, taking in the sites of the once grand space.
“The bones of the building are as solid as the day they were built. The update in the 80s gave us a good base to work from for water and electricity. A lot of it would have to be gutted, but the structure is still suitable.”
“How's that bad news?”
“Figured there's a chance you and the rest of management would want an excuse to tear the thing down. Start fresh. But I see no reason why the base structure couldn't be repurposed.”
“We were actually hoping this would be the case,” Jérémie replied.
“This building has character. And it's unique, certainly in Prydania. We were hoping it would be intact enough to keep. We want to incorporate it into phase two of the resort.”
“Well that's another thing, we’d need to figure out how that's going to work. I mean we have a few parts of the park based on Saintonge, but outside of that? This sort of style isn't really present.”
“Já…” Jérémie said, looking around.
“We’ll figure that out I’m sure. But I want to hear your thoughts. Let's grab a drink and dinner. How does Flora’s sound?”
“I don't think I’ve ever been there after hours?”
“Come on. We’ll get some pizza and beer, and you’ll tell me your thoughts.”
Styrkar shrugged and nodded, following his boss out. He wasn't going to turn down an invitation that had pizza and beer involved.
----
A theme park is a different sort of place after hours. The walkways, usually full of people, are empty. The air, full of chatter, is nearly silent. Even that catchy ambient music that danced in the back of Styrkar’s head was gone from the now silent PAs. Employees in minifigure and mascot costumes walked too and fro, holding their oversized heads as they headed back to the cast member locker rooms.
Still, the park wasn't dead. Flora’s, the main sitdown restaurant in the park’s Main Street, was still operating. Cast members, executives, and other employees congregated here after hours. Jérémie grabbed a table near the bar and Styrkar sat down.
“So Styrkar, you don't seem enthused about the hotel.”
“It's a beautiful old building,” he replied.
“But I look around at this park, we have lands here with a sci-fi theme, we have that Skandan-inspired land, fantasy with a Santonian flavour, adventure…”
“The viking land’s coming,” Jérémie added with a smile.
“Finally!” Styrkar replied with a chuckle. “You all should have listened to my team.
“We should have,” Jérémie said with a laugh of his own.
“But you have to see it our way! Vikings are exotic in Saintonge! It was an attraction at the Saintonian park! We didn't think it would be desirable here in Prydania, since there's viking culture everywhere already.”
“Ah, but we’re a proud people,” Styrkar said with a wink.
“Prydanians still view Spilvel as Prydanian, and they wanted vikings in Spilvelland!”
“Hey you were right we weren't, that's fair enough,” Jérémie chuckled.
“But you see,” Styrkar added as a waiter brought a pitcher of beer and some mugs.
“That's another eclectic theme. We put a lot of work into making sure each land in the park is self contained so you don't see the other lands from wherever you are, but it's going to bleed over to a degree. And guests will go from one to another to another and then to a hotel that looks like it came out of 1917 Iteria or Meterra. If we keep the theming, which you seem to want to.”
"Well like I said back there, it's unique,” Jérémie said as he poured two mugs of beer.
“No wine?” Styrkar asked.
“Prydanian beer is growing on me. It's a perfect way to cool down in the summer.”
“Já it is,” Styrkar replied, as he sipped.
“Anyway,” Jérémie continued, “it's unique. No other hotel in Prydania is styled like that. Spilvelland lets people come here to experience a world of tomorrow or a land of high fantasy. Lets you interact with buildings that are like life-sized Spilvel sets. This place is about selling an experience that you can't get anywhere else, at least not on this continent. The hotel is part of that.”
“I see,” Styrkar replied.
“I mean… it's doable. But if the theme is going to be kept, that mostly leaves us with logistics.”
Jérémie smiled slyly, knowing he was about to unveil something to Styrkar he knew he'd be excited for.
“When I said Spilvelland in Prydania was a unique place for this continent, I may have been underselling it. We want to make it a unique experience the world over.”
“What?” Styrkar chuckled, sipping his beer.
“You're going to shut down the Santonian park?” he asked incredulously, knowing that would never happen.
“No, no we’re not,” Jérémie replied.
“But the Plaisance park is confined on all sides by built-up areas. We are practically abutting the town hall of Florencelle.” While it was true that the Plaisance park was so big it extended from the city of Plaisance to four adjacent suburban communes, there was little land to expand, and indeed, only a wall separated Spilvelland Plaisance from the new mairie of Florencelle, one of the communes that covered the park and had also benefitted from the tax incom.
“Meanwhile here?” Jérémie contrasted the two Spilevellands. “We’re on the outskirts of Hildesy. There's… room to expand here. That there isn't in Saintonge.”
“Expand?” Styrkar asked with a raised eyebrow. A million thoughts ran through his head, which is why he wanted his boss to clarify.
“We’ve been buying up land. And trust me, we don't need it for the toy factory. This is for the park. Or should I say parks.”
“Parks? You're building another park? Is that why you bought me beer and pizza?” he laughed.
“You're about to dump more work on me?”
“Guilty, but I think you’ll like digging into what we had in mind.”
“Perhaps,” Styrkar mused.
“Once the viking land is added, Spilvelland Prydania will be the same, more or less, as Spilvelland Saintonge. Same lands, rides, food, everything. But we want to build at least one more park here. Maybe two more. We’re taking it one step at a time, but a second park is absolutely on the horizon, and it's not just a park. We want a shopping and visitor centre at Kristal Lake just north of the hotel.”
Styrkar leaned back in his chair, not even moving to grab some pizza as the waiter brought it. His boss was not so restrained, but Jérémie could see the wheels turning in Styrkar’s mind.
Indeed, he was envisioning it. Kristal Lake, with that peninsula that jutted into it, he was envisioning some restraints and stores, a main street that could lead to the hotel… maybe a people mover system they used in the park to get people to and fro
“We’re thinking of putting the second park to the southwest of the lake and hotel. This new shopping and dining centre would form the nexus of a proper all in one resort. Visitors wouldn't need to leave Spilvelland property. Everything they'd need would be here."
“How forward thinking,” Styrkar said with a smirk before he visualized the map of the area in his head.
“Wait… the second park… that land, isn't it part of the old Capital West Agricultural Homestead?” His tone turned dower when he said that.
“It, um, is… the family that owned the farmland that became the homestead’s eastern area didn't have use for that section when it was repatriated to them. Apparently the Syndicalists…”
“... turned it into storage and guards barracks and chemical sheds. Já, I know.”
“Ah, I um… I guess you would,” Jérémie said awkwardly. He was perhaps foolish to think this area could be brought up without this coming up.
“Anyway, they didn't have use for it, they sold it to us. And we added it to some surrounding land we bought and we have the room for a second park.”
“Umhm,” Styrkar replied as he leaned forward to take a slice of pizza and munch on it. He was thinking. It was almost poetic. But was it a poem he wanted to tell? Maybe some subject matter was better left unaddressed.
Jérémie could sense his lead civil engineer’s unease.
“Think of it as a chance to revisit some past… well… revisit the past and do right” he said as he struggled on how to word that sentiment.
Styrkar almost snapped at his boss and he thanked God he had a mouthful of pizza to stop him and give him a chance to reflect.
“I didn't want to revisit it at all, to be honest,” he said as he swallowed.
“But it's hardly new. I revisit it every day.”
“You do?”
“Come on, Jérémie,” he said softly.
“You know my skill set. And what I did. It can't be a shock to you that I see parallels in what I do today to what I used to do.”
“Not to get too high on the company line,” Jérémie replied, “but I figured the wimsy of a theme park would have made up for that.”
Styrkar chuckled. It was such an earnest response he couldn't help but appreciate it.
“One would think, but the mechanics of a prison camp- and don't let your neutral Santonian sensibilities misguide you, that's exactly what I was tasked with designing with the Agricultural Homesteads- and a theme park aren't that different at the end of the day. Efficient layout. Efficient crowd management. How do you best position security to keep order? How do you best position checkpoints? Crowd flow. Lodging. Food. Logistics of moving and housing people, staff… all of this stuff. If you want me to be honest? On an autistically granular level? It's the same shit.”
“I mean… I see that. But you aren't… I mean… I hope you're not dwelling on that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I hope I’m not giving you PTSD.”
“Any trauma I have I deserve,” Styrkar said softly as he ate more pizza.
Jérémie didn't know what to say, he ate his own pizza in silence for a moment as the quiet buzz of off hour theme park staff enjoyed dinner around them.
“Sorry, boss,” Styrkar added.
“Sometimes that autistically granular voice needs to be shut the fok up. ‘cause I know what I do now isn't really the same thing. But I won't lie. The land you bought? I’m liable to get behind the wheel of a bulldozer myself and level the whole damn remnants of what I designed back then.”
“Well I suppose I can't blame you.”
“Maybe literally erasing it and replacing it with something nice and fun will be good. I’ll need to check with my therapist."
“Well maybe the theme will help.”
“Ah já. This second theme park partially built over the bones of a prison camp. What's the theme?” he asked sardonically.
“We're kicking around either ‘Framtíðarsviði’ or ‘Futurefield,’ probably the Mercanti name for international marketing. But the idea is a permanent world's fair. It's going to be a place where people are educated on industry, science, culture, and they’ll experience futuristic technology. We have sponsors lined up already. We’ll have a world showcase too. Think a pavilion to showcase Prydanian culture. We’d have one for Saintonge too, but also ones for any other country you and your team want to feature.”
“We have Tomorrowland in the main park,” Styrkar replied, not sounding cyclical, but more so testing his boss on the idea behind the concept.
“Think those themes but expanded. A place to celebrate dreaming of a better tomorrow and a world where we come together. Seems like a good redemption arc for part of a prison camp.”
“Hmmm…” Styrkar murmured.
“This is all a bit more involved than a hotel refurbishment.”
“It's all connected,” Jérémie said.
“One big expansion.”
Part of Styrkar wanted to quit. It was all too much in some ways, and the spike of anxiety and guilt was enough to make him consider it for a brief moment. Still, he'd spent too much time trying to move on to let a spur of the moment notion derail the career he'd built for himself.
“Sure. I take it you and the rest of management have your ideas. We’ll convene on Monday, if you're able, and we’ll start mapping it out. And then we’ll know what we need from the geological surveys.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Jérémie said softly, with an affirming smile.
“But I should head out. I need to get some sleep. And think about this. A lot to process and all. Thanks for the dinner, boss.”
He stood and smiled at Jérémie and headed out before he heard his boss.
“Styrkar?”
“Já?”
“Sorry. If I touched on any sensitive subjects.”
“Trust me, boss, you're not the one who should be apologizing for anything.”
He left Flora’s. The park was still eerie, still empty. He hummed the catchy music that wasn't playing, as he left. Would building over something horrible he'd helped build before really make it better? Probably not. But he had to live with it either way. Getting angsty about it wouldn't do him any good.
OOC Note- thanks to @Kyle for helping with the post and helping write part of it.
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