Quincentennial Celebration in Tartarus [IC/Closed]

[Gehenna Tartarus]

[OOC: Only post if you have been accepted here]

If there was one thing that Tartarians loved, it was having a celebration. Over the years the nation had added a few annual celebrations to its calendar, which allowed the populous to let its hair down and have fun. So it was no surprise that if an event presented itself that could be celebrated, it was, especially if it highlighted something good in the Empire’s past. So it happened that during this year fell the quincentennial anniversary of the Unification of the Empire, when the last portion of it came under the Empire of Tartarus banner. And the day of the signing became a day of celebration.

The Empire was not known for opening its doors to the international crowd and when it celebrated it tended to celebrate internally. But the Empress Gehenna was trying to break away from the paranoia that had been present in her father and grandfather, and she knew that it was time to become more of a major playing on the international field. So, following months of preparations, even though the idea was raised over a year previously, invitations had been sent out to various nations around the world, inviting them to send representatives to share in the fun of the first open celebration in Tartarus for many decades.

Tartarian Emperors and Empresses had not always shied away from the outside world and in its history, there were many events of good and bad incidents of the Empire’s involvement with the other nations of the world. But over several generations, from father to son, a mistrust of those who were not Tartarian began to grow, until eventually the Empire’s door was closed.

Following the untimely death of her father, Empress Gehenna took the throne, the first woman to do so for hundreds of years. And her ascension was not greeted with enthusiasm from the nobles of Tartarus, although the common people seemed to handle the transition much better. They could see a chance for women to gain a greater standing in the nation, the very same reason that made the nobles unhappy. They had lived in a man’s world and now they had a woman they had to bow and scrape to, and even more importantly, listen to.

Not having a good relationship with her father, Gehenna was of the mind that there were things in the Empire that need to be changed, and although she knows that these things do not happen overnight, she is bringing a change to the way things are done in Tartarus. One of the easiest was to open the door to the international stage and put herself on it, so the doors were flung open.

The day began with a march past by several military regiments, attended by the Empress and then was followed by a parade through the main streets in the Capital of Erebus. There would be smaller events held around the country, but the main features of the day were held in Erebus and were attended by various members of the Imperial Family and members of the government, which were televised for those unable to make it to the Capital.

Later in the evening, there would be street parties and fireworks. These later events would coincide with the celebration at the Palace, where the Empress, members of the Imperial Family, members of the government and chosen members of the nobility would be attending a party to strengthen their international ties with people from the international community.

The Party

The Ewige Verdammnis Palace stood on a cliff that overlooked the city of Erebus and was reached by road up the side of the hillside. The grand old building, along with its citadel had glanced down over the city for hundreds of years. At night, the front of the building was lit up, giving the architecture an eerie feel to it. The gargoyles’ faces peeked out of shadows, like guardians of the underworld, watching the living as they went about their celebrations. The main drive from the gate led directly to the front entrance in a sweeping arc from the right.

The party that night was being held in the Grand Ballroom, which was on the right side of the building and had been given its own entrance along the side of the Palace. Guests would be driven around to the entrance and let out at a side entrance, with large double doors, that were reached by climbing some steps.

Once in the doors, the guests would be met in a good sized anteroom, that contained various members of the palace staff, who would take outerwear or shawls from the guest and would hang them out of the way for retrieval at the end of the evening. Keeping with tradition, even though everything was computerised, items that were stored could be retrieved with a replica gold coin with the design of those used during the time of the unification. These were boxed and were small gifts that could be kept.

The anteroom led to a sweeping staircase, reminiscent of the main staircase at the front of the building. This room was more of a waiting area, where people were lined up to be announced to people already in the Ballroom. Upon entering the ballroom, the guest would walk down an equally impressive staircase. The design made to allow people inside the room the ability to see who was being announced before they disappeared into the crowd below.

The Ballroom was set up with a raised platform at the far end, that housed a small orchestra, who would be supplying most of the music for the night. Along the two side walls there tables and chairs, allowing people to sit when they were not dancing and needed to rest or to partake in some food. Most of the middle of the room was left open as a dancing area. During the evening, there would be a selection of music allowing people to dance, from traditional ballroom, before changing into a modern party later in the evening, mostly for any of the younger people present who wanted to party into the early hours.

Either side of the staircase were two doors that lead into another room, this one housing two good side bars. There were a selection of comfortable chairs and tables, and wait staff carried around small trays of Hors d'œuvres. Through the other side of the bar room, there was an additional room that would contain a food area, that would be serving a buffet of cooked meals. This room also contained chairs and tables.

Off the right side of the Ballroom, there was access to a patio area that was enclosed and not visible by the people arriving in their cars, giving people a chance to take some fresh air. Along the left hand side, there were some small alcoves for anyone who wished to converse privately, though these were closed by curtains rather than doors.

The Attendees

Empress Gehenna had wanted to break with tradition and mingle with her guests, rather than wait for them all to arrive before being formally announced. But when she brought up the subject with various people, they all shot down it down as a bad idea. And she was having a hard enough time with some of her people accepting her, that she did not need to add to it by breaking with tradition. The reason she had wanted to be there was one of the things she most enjoyed about parties was watching people arrive and looking at what they had chosen to wear. Tartarians were very traditional and they were all dressed in evening dress. The ladies all donned their finest jewellery. As a child, she loved watching the way they all sparkled.

Those present at in the Ballroom were Gehenna’s cousins, aunts and uncles. Two obvious omissions were Gehenna’s mother and grandmother. The former had become a recluse following the treatment from her husband and the latter because she did not trust foreigners.

The government were represented by Stuart Marsden, the Secretary of State and Emma Sarie, the Secretary of Foreign Affairs. The latter being the first woman to be given a role in the government following Emperor Erebus’s death. And Lord Leon Hawkridge, Earl Marshall, in charge of the military.


[ooc: Please RP your character from being announced at the top of the stairs leading into the ballroom. Do not worry about covering how you got to the Palace; it would have been by car from the airport or your embassy.]

[Tales]

Eloise stood in the anteroom, her knees quivering. Behind her, servants were taking care of her things; the newly pressed overcoat she had worn for the car ride, her plastic bag with a change of clothes for the airplane home, and the small gift she had brought for Empress Gehenna. Her family had a professional jeweler make a fine ring out of the purest silver they could find, with a jade gemstone in the center. If it was not obvious already, Tales wanted to have the best relations possible with their more aggressive fellow nations.

While she smoothed down her ethnic dress, she ran over the instructions given to her by her therapist several times. 1. Smile and talk to everyone. 2. Eat and compliment the food. 3. Dance with several young princes. 4. When the modern dance begins, leave the ballroom and go home. She was not allowed to get anywhere near the alcohol. Not a rude word was supposed to come out of her mouth for the entire evening. If she disliked someone, nobody would ever know but her.

She was picking at a foundation-caked bruise on her shoulder when she heard a loud voice. Edging closer to the grand staircase, she tried to hear what was going on.

"Presenting Her Royal Highness Eloise Albertine Claudin of the Constitutional Monarchy of Tales."

Clearing her throat, she made one final adjustment to her dress and approached the staircase, the sound of hands clapping against each other suddenly filling her ears like a deadly siren. She placed her right hand on the staircase's bar, holding up the other to wave at the people already in attendance. After waving for a good ten seconds, she held her dress with her left hand so that she wouldn't trip.

The end of the staircase felt like a godsend. She sighed and scanned the room, looking for someone to go to so that she could look close to another country. It was definitely not good that she, the Queen, still did not have a King to her name. In accordance to her country's Constitution, she had become the Queen in name at the age of 13, but she would take over as the country's leader until she was 21. She would have to be in wedlock by then - or else.

Suddenly spotting the multiple tables, she went to go take a seat until more guests arrived.

[Gehenna Tartarus]

All of the members of the Imperial Family were technically on duty during the evening’s events. It was their responsibility to make sure that none of the guests were left in a situation that could make them feel awkward. The Empress had made it very clear that although this was a celebration of the Unification of the Empire, it was also an opportunity to develop better relations with not only the nations they were already associated with, but ones that they had no previous involvement with.

Prince Val Stratton was one of the nicer members of the Imperial Family, having spent twenty-nine years trying to counter his unpleasant older brother. He had brown hair and kind brown eyes. He was the tallest of the Empress’ cousins at six foot two and looked rather dashing in his tuxedo. He had been watching as the guests were announced and followed them with his eyes as he talking to one of the other guests, an old Duke he had known most of his life, who was congratulating the prince on the horse he had recently sold the older man.

Knowing his duty, he watched as the young woman walked down the stair, looking a little embarrassed about the whole process. Not everyone was used to the trappings like Tartarians were. He excused himself from the Duke’s presence and walked boldly over to the young lady who had taken a seat at the table.

“Your Royal Highness,” he began, giving the woman a short bow. Like all the Imperial Family and government officials, they had been each been given a dossier containing information on all of the guests, so that they would have some idea of who was who. “May I introduce myself? I am, Prince Val Stratton, cousin to Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Gehenna.” He gave her a warm smile, that was nothing but a sign of being friendly and not about to bite her head off. “Would you care for some refreshments?”

Walking along either side of the Ballroom were wait staff carrying trays containing glasses of champagne, orange juice, a mixture of both or water.

[New Edom]

President William Touchstone wore a tuxedo with his Presidential sash and a single decoration, a Bronze Link, and was arm in arm with Princess Mara Obed, whose dark hair was swept back from her face and wore a blue ball gown that displayed bare supple shoulders and arms, showed a delicate hint of cleavage and swept to just above her ankles. She wore a golden tiara that suggested plumes, oak leaves and stars with small but excellently faceted rubies. It was the first time that either of them had appeared so. Mara had been startled at how friendly the President was during their trip to Tartarus, and how well they got along together. He seemed, to her, more Kingly than her cousin or even her late uncle, and yet had no sense of pretension about him at all. For the President's part, he was pleasantly surprised to see that Mara was more intelligent than he had anticipated, and so both were in an excellent mood as together they symbolized the last gasp of the Edomite civil war, entering this elegant setting.

"His Excellency Mr. William Touchstone, President of the Allied States of New Edom, and Her Royal Highness Princess Mara Obed, Pardesian Delegate to the World Assembly!"

[Leonische]

Karmin stood waiting to be announced in antechamber, wondering would it be anyone wearing red dress like her. In Leonische, it was protocol that only royal family would wear carmine, the realms’ personified color, in formal royal gathering. Her personal assistance was now informing a palace staff what to do with a gift for the empress. Kränz Puzzle Egg was such a delicate and sometime troublesome gift. 2,000 shards of tiny puzzle would take forever to put back together.

"Johanna," she called her assistance. "Please make sure the staff will bring me egg when I’m introduced to the empress."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Good, thank you." She straight her back and raised her chin, waiting for announcement.

"Presenting Her Imperial Highness Mathilde Karmin Friederike Löwin, Fürstin of the Imperial Leonische Realms"

She stepped to a stairway and nodded a little to the crowd, presenting a regal image that earned her a nickname Imperial Lioness. She put her left hand on the rail then proceed down to the ballroom.

[Tales]

Eloise, who was a bit lost in thought as she sat, did not notice the other guests - or the other members of the Imperial Family. It was not until she spotted a handsome young man approaching her that she snapped out of her stupor. She stood and pushed in her chair when it seemed certain that he was approaching her. When he did get near her, she bowed in return. She grinned when she introduced himself, figuring that he was probably local royalty from the start. "And you already know who I am, it seems. It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Val Stratton."

When he mentioned refreshments, she could feel herself perk up; she tried to keep this from showing. "Yes, please."

[Britmattia]

Eric Von Bathame, not a man given to much introspection or to nervousness, is standing with his hands clasped behind his back, staring thoughtfully down into the hall whilst Alecto rifles through her purse, an astute observer might note the faint smile which is instantly smoothed away as the young woman gives an "Ah-hah!" and plucks out a delicate-looking hand mirror, which is swiftly opened and a perusal of her dark-copper coiffure begins.
The smile creeps back as a minute adjustment is made to an already immaculate hairstyle, the mirror closed with a snap and Alecto opens her mouth.
"Now we are ready."
"Of course we are, coz."
Eric says nothing more, everyone deals with nervousness in their own way, when they feel it.
He presents an arm, immaculate in the dove-gray piped with red of his House uniform, usually the scion of Bathame preferred a look loosely describable as Byronic, but tonight is a formal occasion, or at least as formal an occasion as you can get in the sort of barbarian country where they don't let a man wear weapons, so instead it is the knee length boots, stovepipe trousers and short, elaborately red-frogged jacket that would, for those back home, identify his House to all and sundry and identify the wearer as someone on his very best behaviour.
Alecto on the other hand, is a woman and as such part of a conspiracy stretching back as far as humans have undertaken more complicated tailoring than fig leaves, as such, she is stunning in a dress the deep green of her House, strictly speaking she could also be in a House uniform but whilst formal tailoring for men is a if-it-isn't-broken-don't-fix-it matter, the ladies prefer something with more flair, not a uniform that looks like she stole it from an episode of Sharpe.
So, taking her cousin's* arm in her own pale one she swishes as best she is able (which is quite well) in her green silk number as the pair move up to the end of the antechamber.

"Ser Erik Von Bathame and Sera Alecto Edinh, of the Kingdom of Britmattia."

* Cousin is used loosely, to describe the incredibly complicated relationship that relates virtually everyone in the Kingdom's aristocracy to everyone else in it would require several paragraphs, so "coz/cousin" is used instead and everyone is a lot happier. Except the genealogists.

[Klowr]

Dianne Granger looked around the room, in-front of her was a grand staircase, which what she reckon was laughter and music at the top of the stairs. Taking out her phone to delay the inevitable, she didn't want to go for this party. The Preliarnia only wanted her here to represent Klowr, even though both she and the Preliarnia were leading a Socialist Party, and had a keen dislike of kings, emperors, dukes, and queens. But, the Prelianiar words were finale, she was to represent the Commonwealth, to celebrate Tartarus Unification. Though he added on that he wanted to exchange formalities with other nations.

Dianne put her hands together, and tried to walk gracefully towards the stairs. When finally she was announced.

"Her serene excellency, Vice-Preliarnia of the Commonwealth of Klowr, Dianne Granger."

She waved around, eyeing for any 'normal' person she could talk to. Suddenly someone caught her eye. She looked at someone who looked like they actually represented a legitimate government.

'If I'm right he's Stuart Marsden... At least he's not a royal.' Dianne said to herself.

Dianne started walking towards them, hoping to begin a conversation with them. She then thought of what too do after they had finished they're conversation, maybe she could head on to the bar. 'Hopefully they have whisky'

[Northrop-Grumman]

Nervousness was something that wasn’t particularly common for Siri O’Neill, but in this instance, as she stood there in the anteroom with nothing really to distract her wandering mind and impatiently waiting for her name to be called, she was definitely so. However, unlike others who might have had it stem from them finding the crowds rather daunting as they were normally filled with important dignitaries from all around the cosmos, she fidgeted nervously mainly because she was here defenseless, not a single knife, firearm, or other such device was on her, which was incredibly rare for her. Ordinarily, for such an occasion, she would, at the very least, have a few knives stashed here and there on her person, even among allies, because she felt she always had a need to be prepared for any situation that might arise. It wasn’t that she expected that security would be lax or that she mistrusted her allies; she just worried, quite a lot, about being defenseless in case something were to happen.

Still though, the elf had taken this into consideration when she had selected her attire for the day and had picked something that would help her ease some of her tension. She wore a full-length black dress that was quite conservative in design as it showed barely any skin with wrist-length sleeves and actually left her neck completely unexposed. No necklaces were present either (any sort of dangling, easily graspable metal hanging around a neck was seen to be hazardous to her), but she did wear small black onyx earrings and black flat-bottomed sandals, the latter of which made it much easier for her to move around in than anything with high heels. All in all, she felt reasonably comfortable, despite not caring for dresses in general; she could move around rather well in it and it covered her body rather well and was snug enough to make her feel not completely exposed.

While she was fiddling around with her shoulder-length blonde hair, making sure that everything was in place and straight, she heard the voice call out a familiar name. “Chairwoman Siri O’Neill of the Northrop-Grumman Corporation.”

Thankfully now that her time had come and she would have something else to occupy her mind with, Siri breathed a small sigh of relief as she made her way through the doorway and down the stairs, moving with a sense of purpose, not pausing to wave at the crowd or anything like that. And then she proceeded to slowly make her way around the room, getting a feel for her surroundings, where everything was, and what sorts of food and drinks were available, while also keeping an eye upon the other guests, waiting to see who all would arrive and trying to feel out everyone’s personalities and who they were by how they interacted with the others in the room.

[Gehenna Tartarus]

[ooc: I do not want to tie everyone up with my characters, but I have detailed what the ones present are doing in this post. If you want to talk to any of these, please either approach them or let me know who would like to speak to in the OOC thread.]

Standing off to the right, Prince Damien, Lord Nefarious, was watching as the guests made their way down the staircase. He had always been a particular fan of the formal announcement of guests, as it allowed him to be talking to someone and still know when someone he wanted to meet had arrived. On this occasion, he was not waiting for anyone but it gave him a chance to put a name to a face, even if he already knew who they were. Gehenna had been very strict at having a good idea who the more distinguished guests were.

The other thing he enjoyed about this form of entry was the fact that it threw off a lot of people. Most were used to slipping in the door and finding someone they recognised, but if unused to being announced, it could cause a certain level of nervousness, mostly because the person waiting was not in control of the situation and most of the people expected were used to being in charge.

Damien watched as various people arrived, noting in particular Heads of State. He recognised a couple of attendees who were part of the NDA and knew that those people were of particular interest to the Empress. Although he took an interest in all of the people arriving, his gaze lingered slightly longer on the female members of any group, making a mental note of anyone he might want to become acquainted with later.

Taking a left out of his brother’s book, Damien stepped forward and introduced himself to President Touchstone and his companion, Princess Mara. Greeting both with a slight bow and a smile, which was as warm and charming as Val’s. “President Touchstone. Your Highness,” he said, looking at each in turn. “I am Prince Damien, cousin to Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Gehenna.”

* * * * *

Halfway along the ballroom, a group of three young women were standing together, giggling and discussing the people as they were introduced. Princesses Alyssa, Marissa and Elizabeth were the youngest members of the Imperial Family, and for Elizabeth at sixteen, this was the first real official event that she had taken part in, so she was even more excited than her overly excited sister, Marissa.

They had been told, like all the other members of the family, to introduce themselves to any guest that looked like they were struggling to find someone to talk to, but the three were having far too much fun between themselves, that they temporarily forgot about their duty and instead spent their time reviewing the clothing that the women were wearing or admiring the men in their evening dress.

* * * * *

Alyssa’s brother, Prince Nicholas and his cousin Prince Hugo were standing amongst a group of equal aged nobility, drinking spirits and discussing various topics that came to mind. The two youngest male members of the Imperial Family had a bit of a reputation for getting a little out of hand at the end of a party, but for the moment, both were being well behaved and waiting for an opportunity to mingle with the foreign guests. This was the first time that most of the younger generation had been to an event that had a large contingency of people from outside the Empire. In their Uncle’s day, only a select few had been invited and usually one at a time.

Unlike most of the family, the two young princes were in the bar area, enjoying listening to the older men speaking. Despite their lack of attendance in the main Ballroom, they would make themselves available to anyone that looked like they needed chaperoning.

* * * * *

Stuart Marsden, the Secretary of State, was standing alongside his female companion, Emma Sarie, the Secretary of Foreign Affairs. Due to their busy schedules, they were catching up with each other when they were approached by a young woman. The two stopped their conversation and focused on the new arrival. Both greeted her with a smile and Stuart extended his hand in the offer of a handshake. Once it was accepted, Emma followed suit.

“Your Excellency,” Stuart said, in greeting, acknowledging that he was at least aware of who she was, even if he might not have a great deal of information about her or her nation. Alhough he was aware that some nations were not overly fond of monarchies, which was one of the reasons, he suspected that the woman had sought out him and Emma. “I hope you had a pleasant trip to Tartarus. I am Stuart Marsden, and this is my colleague, Emma Sarie.”

* * * * *

Unlike a few of the other official guests at the party, Lord Leon Hawkridge was not already in the main Ballroom, he was waiting in line to be announced, like the other guests. On his arm was his wife, Lady Camilla, who was smiling brightly to the people around her, her face lighting up as she spotted some familiar faces.

“This is so delightful,” she announced, as she smiled and nodded her head at another person she knew. As the people in front of them were announced, she beam happily and the couple walked through the door and stood on the top step of the staircase.

In the seconds before they were announced, Leon cast his gaze around the room, looking at the guests already gathered inside. “Try not to trip on the way down, dear,” he said, giving her a smile, as the man to their right made his announcement.

“Lord Leon and Lady Camilla Hawkridge.”

* * * * *

Mingling separately, with other people of their age were Gehenna’s aunts and uncles. There were spread out among the guests in the main ballroom. Princess Isabella was talking to a countess about her daughter Alyssa’s choice in dress, while Princess Lavinia was trying to keep her eye on her son Hugo and daughter Marissa, to make sure neither of them were doing anything to embarrass her.

Isabella’s husband Prince Joshua of Remburg had taken a seat at one of the tables, conversing with an old Earl, who was having trouble standing and hearing. While Lavinia’s husband, Prince Philip of Halhaven was sipping a glass of champagne, standing at the bottom of the steps, watching as the guests arrive.

* * * * *

Prince Val waved over one of the waiters, who presented his tray to Eloise for her to select a drink. The Tartarian had noticed that the young woman seemed to have relaxed a little since he came over to speak to her, which was good from his point of view. If there was one thing that would lead to an unpleasant experience at a function, it was feeling uncomfortable. He still did not understand why it was considered a good idea to send someone inexperienced to one of these events without an escort, but then that was one of the reasons he and his cousins were on hand.

Once the young woman had picked a drink, he took a glass of champagne for himself and raised it to his lips. “Would you like me to show you around?” It was not a large area for him to cover, but the young woman might feel more comfortable knowing where everything it was.

[New Edom]

The meeting at hand interested both New Edomites, though for different reasons. For Touchstone it was the fact that this would be his first trip abroad that was simply one of exploring possibilities, not one which was dealing with an immediate alliance or diplomacy that would have some very specific effect. So as he returned the bow he looked at Prince Damien and as he said, "Prince Damien, a pleasure to meet you..." he wondered what sort of man this was. Here was a man who had found himself having to bow first to a woman which was a rarity in this country. "So the celebration of the Unification. We are honored to be invited. And I hope you'll forgive my ignorance on your country's history, but I'm wondering what nations were united, and how that came about. If you know anything of our own country's recent past you'll probably understand my interest."

Mara was also curious about what sort of man he was, and even as she wondered her eyes glanced round the room and observed other young people like herself. She felt a sense of envy grow in her. They had grown up part of a structure with a tradition; she had grown up at first having to keep her nobility a matter of discretion, then it had become a form of pomp and circumstance that vaguely resembled this but was really more a part of the display of power of the Junta, and then all caution had been flung to the winds in recent years. She felt torn; her father and mother she loved greatly but she wished they had given her at least something that resembled this. So for once she kept her mouth shut and was quiet, letting the President take the lead.

[Sentient Peoples]

“The Honorable Rebecca Reynolds, Minister of Public Information of the Federation of Sentient Peoples, escorted by her husband, His Excellency, Bruce Reynolds, the Second Ambassador of the Federation of Sentient Peoples.”

As the nominal head of the ambassador corps, excluding his immediate superior, the Minister of State, Bruce was a common sight outside of the Federation of Sentient Peoples. Rebecca Reynolds, neé Cameron, was another the most well known figures of government in that nation, previously having served as the face and voice of the Federation Public Broadcasting Corporation, a subunit of her own Public Information Directorate. While both had been doing their jobs for over twenty years, both hardly looked to have aged a day in all that time, thanks to the Federation’s life extension therapies.

In actuality, the Federation’s representatives had physically aged two years in the last twenty, and that rate would begin to speed up as they aged, returning to a one-to-one aging ratio somewhere around their 260th birthday. Physically, they would be about 75 years old then.

But at the moment, that was entirely immaterial to the situation. What was material was that this was a party, albeit, one of the more staid, formal type of affairs that government ministers and ambassadors were accustomed. Their clothing was also material.

The Federation’s omnipresent smart fabrics comprised both Bruce’s plain black tuxedo with gold trim, though he wore it very well, and Rebecca’s flowing, one-sleeved gown matched her hair exactly, black shot through with subtle gold highlights. Both wore accessories of gold, except for the formal, lady’s dagger that Rebecca wore upon a gold chain around her slender waist. The blade was older than the treaty that the party was celebrating, and considered to be worth price beyond measure within the Federation, a lineage dagger passed down in a family line, from the Empire which had predated the Federation hundreds of years earlier. Its hilt was wrapped with platinum wire which caged a shimmering star sapphire, and the gemmed sheath bore the Cameron family’s coat of arms.

Long ago, among formal society in the Federation, women had worn the daggers to provide to their husbands (and occasionally lovers and fiancés) in a duel, a main gauche to accompany the man’s sword. The manner in which the dagger was presented (or occasionally, not presented) held as much context as the outcome of the duel itself, many times. Obviously, as the practice of dueling generally fell into disuse and then was eventually illegalized except in very specific circumstances, that tradition had faded, but the daggers remained. Most of the family swords had been lost or destroyed in the civil war which had destroyed the Empire, but the daggers, in the keeping of the women, had remained intact, the only truly surviving embodiments of a bygone age in Dor Lomin.

Bruce and Rebecca moved down the stairs, her hand lightly placed in the crook of his arm, while they looked for someone familiar to them.

“The Honorable Jessica Smith, Special Representative of the Federation of Sentient Peoples.”

Jessica Smith retained the brown hair and eyes of her brother, though both were in darker shades. Like Rebecca, she had chosen a gown that brought out the highlights in her hair, but in this case, that shimmer of gold was entirely natural. The golden halter gown, in a floor-length handkerchief style, shimmered with crystalline glitter. Unlike Rebecca’s, which stood out, Jessica’s dagger blended into the folds of her dress with its golden hilt and sheath, fastened on to the fabric with a nano-tech binding, rather than a belt. Her jewels were scarcely of the value of Rebecca’s delicate golden accessories, but their amber and tiger’s eye gleamed to enhance to value of her dress in the eye of the beholder.

As she followed Bruce and Rebecca, an additional step behind them than propriety required to help her see over the tall couple, she too looked for someone to talk to. Unlike them, she knew relatively few people on the international scene, her work in the Office of the Special Representatives important enough now after ten years that she only went outside the country when it was appropriate to send a family member of the Imperial President.

[Leonische]

Karmin determined her approach. There were three young women talking to each other. They were Tartarian princesses. Though they were in her age group, it would be more fun to talk to them, the younger generation was un-preferred since they were in no position of making decision. A talkative nature of older ladies was always her strategy for successful conversation. Worked her charm with them then she would be introduced to their husband, warmly to be precise.

Of profile she had read, Empress Gehenna had aunts. She glanced around and found them among attendees. An older lady who happened to be Duchess of Briv was talking to another older lady. Duchess of Lorm was alone, looked nervous. Karmin followed her stare and fell upon young princess in the group of three princesses. So, she keeps an eye on her child, Karmin thought.

She calculated pros and cons among two duchesses. Princess Isabella seemed to be more relaxed, and she could get to converse with Duchess of Lorm vie her too. She is preferred, Karmin decided and proceeded to her.

"Excuse me, Your Highness," she curtsied, "my name is Karmin, Fürstin of Imperial Leonische Realms. It’s my pleasure to meet you."

[Gehenna Tartarus]

New Edom

Damien’s eyes flicked between the President and Mara, his face still displaying the warmth and friendliness that it had when he first greeted them. Although he would have preferred to focus on the young woman, he returned his attention to the man, as he was the one doing the talking. “I know that Her Majesty is pleased that you could attend the celebration,” he began, honestly answering for Gehenna, who had stressed how pleased she was to have so many fine people attending her first event. “And I am sure she will tell you so herself, when you are introduced to her.”

For the briefest moment, he cast his eyes back to Mara, his gaze travelling over her form, before he continued. “As to the Unification, the celebration today marks the five hundred year anniversary of the signing of the treaty with Demonica Diablo, incorporating them into the Empire. It was a rather unsavoury takeover, one that has caused tensions over the years. But we have come a long way in the last half a millennia.” He did not feel the need to mention that there had been more than one protest and riot during that time, and not all of them had ended well for the protesters and rioters.

As he finished, lifted his hand and attracted a waiter, who brought along a tray of drinks. He did not ask either of his companions if they wanted one, he knew that they were more than capable of selecting a drink without his input. “I will not say that our history has been trouble free, but I think that we have been fortunate in how things have turned out.” Once again, he omitted any mention of the firm hands that had been used to mould the Empire into what it was today.

He was a little surprised that the Princess had remained quiet since their introduction and he decided to bring her into the conversation. “History is not one of my favourite topics either,” he said with a grin. “I understand that you are a delegate in the World Assembly.” He cast a glance at the President that said he would resume their conversation, but was taking a moment to engage Mara in conversation. “Quite an achievement in someone of your age.”

* * * * *

Lionische

Princess Isabella was laughing lightly at a remark from her companion, when she saw the young woman approach. Her expression slipped into a smile, as her eyes met Karmin’s. She had been a little surprised that with all the young people present, the lady had introduced herself to her. But that was the uniqueness about people, you could never guarantee what anyone would do.

“Your Highness,” she replied, bobbing a small curtsey in response. Like all the Tartarian Imperial family, she was dressed in a long gown, slightly more conservative than the younger ladies present. She was wearing some fine diamond jewellery and a small tiara. “The pleasure is all mine. I am Princess Isabella, and this is Lady Denvers.” As she mentioned the lady’s name, she motioned slightly with her hand in her direction. “I hope that you had a pleasant journey to Tartarus. Have you taken any refreshments?” Having heard the young woman announced moments before, she knew that she had not, as her hands were empty.

[Leonische]

Gehenna Tartarus

"My journey was very welcomed and refreshment would be pleasant," said Karmin. "The party is very charming, don't you think, Your Highness?"

[Klowr]

Dianne cleared her throat, quickly adjusting herself, she answer the man's question.

"Dianne Granger, Vice-Preliarnia of the Commonwealth of Klowr. I do wish to start off by apologizing on-behalf of the Preliarnia, Alex Oudea. He's at an international conference. I am glad I can attend in his place, to celebrate the unification" Dianne said, lying through her teeth.

"I am rather thirsty, if you would mind, maybe we could get some drinks from the bar, after I've met the empress though -if she's not talking to anyone that is." Dianne said, she really wanted whisky now.

[New Edom]

Touchstone selected a glass of sparkling water if possible--he rarely drank alcohol at public gatherings but if it was not available he asked the waiter for some. "Well, bringing a great nation together is not going to be an easy task for anyone; you can't make an omelet without breaking eggs, unfortunately. Why, we had to deal with a recent uprising of the Elwe people in our Raith Immel Province recently."

Mara felt a little startled by Damien's eyes...she felt a flush coming to her, as she realized he was checking her out. But for the first time in a long time it was a man doing it, not a boy. Not someone intimidated by her rank or beauty but someone who took such things for granted, and for a moment she felt a sense of confusion and slight arousal that she wasn't sure how to deal with. She was almost relieved when he spoke to her directly. "I'm sorry, did I look so obviously bored?" she said with a laugh. "I don't hate history, Prince Damien, I just have it around me all the time," she said glancing merrily at the President, who smiled at her and said, "She's our second World Assembly Ambassador, and has done a fine job."

"I'm really enjoying it," said Mara "Meeting all kinds of different people and viewpoints." What a nice smile he has, she thought. "But Tartarus has never been part of the World Assembly?"

[The Nuclear Fist]

Saddam Olegsandr Osmanescu stood in line, his brow furrowed in ill-masked irritation at having to wait in a line at a diplomatic line. Physically, Saddam was a huge man, standing standing at 1.88 metres, and weighing just under 104 kilograms. Although his belt had one or two extra notches since his days as a political officer, he had retained his figure rather well, as compared to many other former paramilitary men and women who had become government bureaucrats. This, combined with his broad shoulders and wide back, and well as his reputation for a wild, brutal temper and a penchant during his Securitate to pummel people who angered him with his massive ham fists, resulted in his fellow bureacrats nicknaming him 'the Raging Bull'. His thick, black hair had miniscule streaks of dark grey here and there, but Osmanescu was aging well, in stark contrast to most members of the government, and his fellow diplomats in particular. His suit was a simple coal black, his tie striped wine red and black, his shirt snow white. He wore a pair of simple, leather dress shoes. He very much had no doubt his clothing was the cheapest in the room. But unlike many of his colleagues in the Department of Foreign Relations, he wasn't particularly fond of expensive clothing. And unlike many others in the Party, he abstained from alcohol. His face was stony, his amber eyes piercing the audience, looking them over like a hawk would look over a den of field mice. The edges of his mouth curled into the slightest smirk when he was announced.

"Senior Diplomatic Advisor to the Supreme Chairman Papush Kvaratskhelia of the Political Bureau of the Most Serene Socialist Republic of Rustonia Saddam Olegsandr Osmanescu."

Saddam nodded and descended the staircase, his heavy footsteps seeming to echo through the large antechamber. When he reached the bottom of the staircase, he looked around, finally spotting the Tartarian Foreign Affairs Secretary, a woman several years his junior named Emma Sarie. He had already known what she looked like beforehand, having looked over several satellite photos of her, as well as the small information about her in the dossier his contacts in the State Intelligence Directorate had put together regarding the Tartarian government. He lumbered over to where she was with as much grace as a man his size could muster, trying and managing poorly to weave through the crowd without bumping into people and knocking them over. Having reached her, and those she was with, he waited until she had finished her sentence before speaking. He waited patiently, finally speaking in his moderately deep, heavily rough, gravelly voice. His Rustonian accent was thick, slurring his speech and yet sharpening it to a point at random areas, as if he was drifting in between drunken stupor and tightness.

"Hello, Miss Emma Sarie. I am Saddam," he said, taking her hand and kissing her middle finger, as was Rustonian tradition.

[Gehenna Tartarus]

Northrup Grumman

Princess Serena, the sister of Damien and Val, had missed the beginning of the party, as she had been talking to Gehenna and Lord Daniels, in the Empress’ apartment. She was well aware that certain members of her family were not too keen on the foreigner, but she wanted to reassure her cousin that she fully supported her plan to present Lord Daniels as her companion at the party, by making him her official escort. Serena had spoken many times with her brother about the man, that he too called a friend. And she had sided with her youngest brother over the opinions of her older brother.

She slipped in to the main ballroom and broke into a smile as she saw how many international guests had arrived already. As she scanned the room, she could see that several of her relatives were already conversing with the honoured guests. She selected a drink from the tray of a waiter as they passed and selected a glass of juice. She took small sips, as she worked her way through the other guests, nodding and greeting those that caught her attention.

Her eyes focused on the face of the Chairwoman of Northrop Grumman and she set her focus on her. She was grateful that she had been raised in the Imperial Family, as she was sure that her face would have revealed her surprise at the way the woman was dressed. The only people who tended to dress quite so conservatively were the really old and the women in mourning.

“Madam Chairwoman,” she greeted once she was close enough to be heard, presented her hand for a handshake, rather than dropping into a curtsy. “We are so honoured that you could attend this evening. Her Majesty has asked me to stress how much she is looking forward to getting reacquainted with you.” She guided Siri further into the room, heading off to one side of the room, where she would be able to collect a drink if required. “I hope that your journey was a pleasant one.”

* * * * *

Tales

Princess Lavinia had been following the progress of the arrivals and had noticed that several of the international guests were being ignored, while several members of her family were busy conversing between themselves. Trying not to appear to be scowling, she walked over to Alyssa, Marissa and Elizabeth, speaking lowly to them as she reached them. The three girls looked a little uncomfortable before heading off into various directions.

The youngest girl, Elizabeth had been instructed to release Prince Val from his conversation with Eloise, as her mother decided that the young queen would feel much more relaxed with her than her older cousin. The sixteen year old princess loved her cousin, but she had to agree with her mother than conversing with an old man was no fun.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” she addressed Eloise, as she approached the two people. “I would love to show you around for the moment, as Prince Val is required elsewhere.”

At the interruption, Val spotted the guests from Sentient Peoples, who Gehenna had given him the duty of meeting, as he had previous involvement with them and she thought it would be fitting for him to meet them.

“Please excuse me,” he said, with a bow before removing himself from the group.

Elizabeth watched him go and then looked back to Eloise. “It is illegal for people to drink under the age of eighteen in Tartarus,” she explained, as she led the queen through the ballroom towards the bar room. “But I am sure they will make an exception for you, should you wish something.”

* * * * *

Sentient Peoples

Once Val had excused himself from Queen Eloise, he made his way towards the three representatives from Sentient Peoples. He greeted the ladies with a bow and presented his hand to Bruce. His features settled into a warm smile, as his gaze took in each of the people present. He had not met any of those present, but he had the privilege of meeting the President’s wife, Lesley at a previous function, which had led to her visiting Gehenna on another occasion.

“Mister Ambassador, Madam Minister,” he greeted Bruce and Rebecca, looking at the couple before focusing on Jessica. “Madam Representative.” He was sure his head was going to hurt by the end of the day, trying to remember all these titles. He was actually grateful that Gehenna’s office had given them plenty of time to learn them all. “I would like to thank you for attending our celebration this evening. Her Majesty is looking forward to meeting with you.”

He once more indicated for a member of the wait staff to come over and offer drinks to the guests. “I hope that the First Lady in good health. I hope that you will convey my warm regards to her on my behalf.” He still remembered the woman fondly.

[Gehenna Tartarus]

Britmattia

Princess Marissa was not happy that her mother had come along and spoiled her fun. She knew that she was there do perform a duty, but it was a party and all she really wanted to do was dance, drink and have a good time. She really did not want to be bothered trying to recall a whole load of information that she had been reading for the last month, or at least, that she should have been reading. She had far more interesting things to do than waste her time learning trivia for one night.

Her mother had kindly pointed her in the direction for the people from Britmattia and she wrinkled her brow as she tried to remember the proper form of address for them. She sighed lightly under her breath, but by the time she reached the young man and woman, she had the brightest smile that she could conjure on her lips. The fact that there was a relatively young man in the couple, she decided that things were not so bad. She could not remember if the two were married, brother and sister or what. She would just have to wing it and cover any errors with her charm.

“Good evening,” she said in greeting, her eyes lingering on Eric, although she did tend to give Alecto a moment of her attention from time to time. “Welcome to the Ewige Verdammnis Palace. I am Princess Marissa.” She hoped that they would be kind enough to introduced themselves in return. “Her Majesty is grateful that you were able to attend this evening and help us celebrate the unification of the Empire, which happened five hundred years ago.” She hated history.

* * * * *

Leonische

Princess Isabella smiled and nodded, stopping one of the wait staff with a simple look. The young man lowered the tray for Karmin to make a selection of either Champagne, Champagne with orange juice, juice or water. “I think the party is very delightful. If there is one thing that we Tartarians are good at, it is throwing a delightful party.” The fact that some people might find the whole thing ostentatious was lost of the Empress’ aunt. “Do you throw such celebrations in Leonische?”

* * * * *

Klowr

“The Empress fully appreciates that is not always possible for the leader of the nation to attend every function,” Stuart said, with a smile. He was well aware that the woman standing beside him would probably prefer to be anywhere but in very spot she was standing in. He had visited other nations and he knew that some did not have all the traditions that the Empire did and he knew they disliked that places like the Empire existed. But the world took many different people to make it turn.

“I suggest we head to the bar now.” He indicated the way with his hand, letting his companion make the move if she so desired. “Her Majesty is not expected for another ten minutes and I know I could use something stronger than champagne. Shall we?”

[Gehenna Tartarus]

New Edom

As the president spoke about the issues that had been troubling Raith Immel, he nodded his head in sympathy, have been witness to various things in the Empire. But this was a time for celebration rather than dwelling on things that had happen in the past, even if the past was not exactly ancient history. He had been seven when the protests last exploded onto the streets of Dominica Diablo. There had been smaller issues since, but the Emperor had gone out with his guns blazing that day. He could even remember exact date, as Gehenna was born that very day.

“Then I am in the minority,” Damien replied, in response to Mara not liking history. “I just worry that the topic is not in favour, when a beautiful young woman has nothing to contribute to it.” He met her eyes for a moment, holding her gaze in his, until he suddenly broke the glance. “But I believe that we have now found something that Her Highness holds dear to her heart, Mister President.”

Once more he looked at Mara, his eyes twinkling with amusement, showing that he meant no offense. “I have heard some favourable things about the World Assembly and I know that there are some very able people working in it.” As he said this, he was once more focused on Mara’s face, his eyes showing that he was not necessarily thinking about the World Assembly as he complimented her. He then became all work, his gaze once more moving between his two companions. “Unfortunately, the Empress has decided that now is not the time to become involved in the World Assembly. The Empire has a particular way of doing things and we would prefer to continue doing them, rather than have the decisions made by people who do not understand the finer workings of Tartarus.”

* * * * *

The Nuclear Fist

As Saddam approached and addressed her, she turned away from Stuart and Dianne, allowing them to continue their conversation in private, while she focused on the gentleman in front of her. She was a little taken aback by the form of greeting, it was not that she was not used to people kissing hands, but she had heard that the Rustonians had even crazier traditions than they did.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” she replied, her face breaking into a comfortable smile. In her job she had experienced a good variety of people and she was always interested in meet new ones. Unlike Saddam, they tended not to rely on satellite footage for information, they liked to rely on things like television or shared information to get knowledge about people. “I hope that you had a pleasant trip to Tartarus. We are honoured that you could attend our celebration.” Like Stuart, she was well aware that there were a lot of people in the world that did not like the monarchy, not that it bothered her. As long as everyone remained polite, she would deal with anyone.

[The Elven Imperium]

Prince Anorpaur Ap Vyshaan had the look of pure boredom on his face. He hated these diplomatic affairs. He preferred hunting or chasing pretty Elven maidens to these political celebrations. He thought to himself well it might so bad if there some pretty ladies here. Anorapur did not share the typical Sun Elf disdain of non-Elves. He made sure that it wasn't public knowledge. He had a duty to family to not cause a scandal. He look around as he waited in line to be announced. Anorpaur hope to catch a glimpse of a pretty lady. Anorpaur saw his sister Selessca be uneasy in her formal gown. Anorpaur lean over to his sister and said, "Don't worry Sel, it wont be that long. You look great in that dress. Who knows you might entice a potential husband in that. " Anorpaur chuckle a little with that last statement. "Oh father and our brother would love that." Selessca responded. Anorpaur saw that they where next, he began straiten his formal uniform. Selessca finish stating her formal dress as well. She did indeed look very beautiful in the formal black dress. The Black went well with her fiery Red hair and Emerald green eyes.

"His Imperial Highness, The Prince of the Warblade, Prince Anorpaur Ap Vyshaan. His Imperial Highness is escorted by his sister, Her Imperial Highness the Princess Selessca Ap Vyshaan." The announcer stated.

The Elven pair walked down the stairs with a grace that had been practice all there lives. They where Sun Elf royalty, they had been raised since birth to act properly in these settings. Both Anorpaur and Selessca look causally as they walk down the stairs, observing all they could in the limits of their vision.

[The Freethinkers]

“Promise you won’t leave me with no one to talk tonight.” Abha said softly, hand entwining her fingers with his between them. She turned her head slightly, blinking with large black lashes for the briefest of eye contact. She squeezed before letting go.

Telissat smiled, reaching up to take her coat, hands stroking along her shoulders lightly as he did so, lifting it off her, “I do not intend to leave you at all if I can help it,” he said, “I certainly won’t leave you bored.”

“No, no I’ll give you that.” She gave that smile again, which had much the same effect as ever, a reflexive look of adoration.

“Try to stop me saying anything laughably impolitic,” he said, passing her coat over to a cloakroom attendant.

“Oh, but that's half the fun of coming to these things with you.” She conceded a grin, though usually she tried to feign unamusement at his attempts at humour. He wasn’t good enough yet to encourage.

“Oh, I’m sort of serious,” he said, silver eyes looking toward the ballroom, “especially if any topics come up like, well, actually,” he whispered, “try to keep me from talking politics in general. I’m used to operating in an echo chamber, as it were, on these things.”

“Right. We’ll just have to keep you on a short leash then.” She shrugged, bare shoulders in the now revealed gown, more Western than her normally Akuman inspired formal wear. Long, blue, and decadent to a degree it was almost uncomfortable despite the expense, she had to admit it did the job of making her beautiful very well. “Shall we?” She hooked her arm inside his and patted his shoulder, pretending to clean something off (it was, of course spotless) as an excuse to run her fingers over his frame.

His shoulder was spotless indeed, save for a small silvery pin that resembled a beetle, about a centimeter across, some kind of award, though he’d never explained what, and a grey-blue cloak. Pinned just above it, on a uniform of a deeper still shade of blue, little rows of lozenge shaped ruby pins on golden fasteners passing for rank insignia, and a golden national icon on the other side, his uniform was simultaneously austere and decadent, its plain fabric seemingly quite ordinary, but inlaid with several electronic devices that he only really had because they came with it, impossible to see without knowing how to activate them “I think we should,” he said with a nod, “ever been to one of these things before?”

“Yes. Well, not here but...” She looked surprised. “You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” he said, “I don’t doubt that I can behave myself, but I do sometimes doubt I’ll want to,” he said, it was unclear in what sense he meant it.

Abha couldn’t help but smile again. “Come on.” She lead, with grace and purpose, her confidence in general having slowly returned over the last few days.

“Ae'kenrana Telissat and Miss Abha Amris” The announcer called as the pair made their way in. Their announcement was relatively unimpressive, and though The C’tani had some fancy forms of address, they didn’t tend to be very long, the same apparently applying to the Commonwealth. Normally such a party would have been attended by someone with a whole variety of fancy titles to pick from, a senator most likely, but Telissat was the beneficiary of the fact that these kind of assignments were handed out by a committee whose superior was one of his most ardent supporters.

“You don’t think this is one of those places that looks down on us for not being married, right?” Abha said, suddenly, looking around.

“It’s no business of ours if they want to be barbarians” he whispered in Akuman,“I think opinions vary, depending on how old and fusty one is,” he said, “but who knows what others really think.” That was of course a convoluted ‘yes.’

“Fuck ‘em” She replied simply in the same tongue. “Who looks fun to introduce ourselves to?”

Telissat looked around, his posture stiffening a little, looking at the guests in turn, “Have you any preference?” he asked, “I’m inclined to see what the dancing will be like.”

“Now that does sound fun.” She couldn’t help but smile again.

“I’m not at all intending to show off,” he said, in the tone of an obvious lie.

“Well maybe I want to show you off.” She shot back with a smirk. After the Shelter a mixture of absolute gratitude and devotion seemed to have made her enamoured of him, and love wasn’t a sufficient word for what she felt.

“I would go talk to those elves,” he said in Akuman, “but it’d be some kind of cliche for the C’tani to immediately head for the elves.”

“Perhaps, but its not your fault what your leader’s...proclivities are...” She returned her gaze to the room.

“It sort of is. I could probably have his job by now if I really wanted.”

“Perhaps.” She stopped. “Though that would be a whole load of bother wouldn't it?” She flipped between languages almost subconsciously. “‘Sides. you’re the man here. You get to introduce me.”

“I am that,” he said, “I may be picking based on my own preferences here, but my little internal list of names and faces says that guy’s one Lord Hawkridge, Secretary of Defence. That might be interesting...” he said.

“Oh yes, shall we?” She took the suggestion with enthusiasm, locking arms again and early pulling her fiancee along. They moved swiftly, by the standards of the party, though with almost elfen grace. The skirts of Abha’s dress doing a dignified twirl.

“Lord Hawkridge?”

[The Nuclear Fist]

"Yes yes, my friend. The trip was fine. But us both being in the diplomacy racket, I'm sure you know I'd say it was pleasant, even if the plane was on fire on the way here," Saddam said, chuckling. The Rustonian crossed his arms. "I'm sure that, being from a Socialist nation and being a Socialist myself, you believe me to dislike your monarchy. I assure you that I hold no such feelings. While Rustonia doesn't exactly have the greatest history with monarchs, it seems to have worked well for Tartarus," Osmanescu explained, trying to avoid any animosity regarding Rustonia's presumed distrust of monarchies. Regarding Rustonia's past, Saddam was sure that she was aware that he was referencing the Turkimenian Sultanate, who conquered the whole of modern Rustonia after the collapse of the Ru Khanate, which in turn conquered the whole of Ru, Ston, and the western fringes of Turkimenia after a series of wars with the Slavic mountain kingdoms of Ston. The Sultanate, being based in Turkimenia and being a Turkimenian bloodline, hated the Slavs of the Ston mountain ranges and the Roma tribes of the steppes of Ru. After losing several prominant wars in the eighteenth centuries, economic stagnation, and losing the War for Stonic independence, the Sultanate was finally overthrown in 1879, when the Roma Jannissary Lazar Semenescu, along with several tribes and the majority of the jannissary corps, rebelled and swiftly overtook the royal palace, exiling the royal family.

"If you don't mind my asking, what are your thoughts on the Empress? She seems a bit green to be lording over such a sizable nation," Osmanescu asked, quite curious. He didn't state that the Rustonian intelligence community generally viewed the Empress as weak, feeling that it was neither the time nor the place for that sort of thing, as Party elections were coming up and he hardly wanted to run as a corpse.

[New Edom]

"The funny thing," said Mara, intrigued by his very direct glance, "Is that the WA doesn't really push people around that much--but well I suppose it would be different with a country with a more autocratic style of government."

"On the other hand the WA pays for a lot of things, we're only beginning to discover how much," pointed out the President.

"Well yes, I was just asked to endorse a proposal for minimum education, which essentially would guarantee that an international organization would make sure that the buildings, administrative costs and so on would be paid if the country in question could not do so. So it's all very interesting, the possibilities," said Mara with a smile. "But the WA doesn't infringe upon a country that needs to defend itself or its allies, doesn't interfere with matters of religion...well or the lack thereof....doesn't bully. And in fact when you have crazy fringers coming up saying "You are not humanitarian enough" you can say "Hey, look at our WA sticker"." Mara lifted her hands cheerfully. "My uncle Mark had many of the same reservations that you do, I think, Prince Damien." Without thinking really Mara shifted her body a little, both warmed and disturbed by his looks at the same time.