The Sword of Damocles (Attn: Kraven, Gholgoth, Closed)
Posted: Sat Apr 12, 2014 5:29 pm
OOC: This is nominally Secret IC, but if any Gholgoth nation can plausibly RP discovering it via their intelligence service they can assume being aware of it before the "big announcement and are welcome to be involved.
Part I: I Wonder Why
Praetorial Palace, Vetalia City, Vetalia
I wonder why/I love you like I do/Is it because I think you love me too/I wonder why I love you like I-
*snap* as the Praetor turned off his radio with a quick turn of the dial. The most popular Vetalian song of the year ended with an abrupt silence, leaving only the soft patter of rain against the darkened window as background noise. This wasn't a night for something as schmaltzy as that.
Pausing for a moment, he turned to the window. In the distance, he could see the intense light of Vetalia City's central business district, that golden heart of the country churning out its unimaginable wealth day in and day out. None of them knew just how much things would change in a few short weeks. He had seen the results of Vetalia's last Grand Alliance firsthand, but this time was different...he was playing with fire and he knew it.
But desperate times call for desperate measures; the rearmament process was proceeding haltingly at best and he was faced with the prospect of an unfavorable treaty regarding the Londinian territories. Peering out the window of the now-silent room, he ruminated over the negotiations with Ganosia.
A lease, a fucking lease...the lands we settled, we built, the lands of British Londinium...all sayonvoir.
The sudden intrusion of a Volscian word into his thoughts was unnerving, he had never had a solid command of the language and was surprised it was so involuntary. Irrelevant, though, what mattered was the present. He couldn't bring back the Golden Age of the past but he could sure as hell try to create a new one. He pulled a cigarette from his case and lit it, the blue smoke drifting upwards towards the ceiling before being swiftly removed by the air purifier.
The Proconsul of State will be here soon, hope he likes this new assignment He gave a short, sardonic laugh at the thought. The Proconsul of State was the quintessential Vetalian, warm, friendly and polite beyond belief. It would be an interesting challenge to send him to the Reich.
The mission had already been cleared by the Senate under the innocuously named "International Trade Relations Act", buried in an obscure part of the legislation regarding sales of Vetalian automotive parts to foreign countries. As expected, the Senate had passed it without even considering the specific provision, focusing instead on the meatier parts of the bill that were more appealing to constituents. A knock on the door interrupted his rumination.
"Come in."
Maria poked her head in. "Hi Vasily, sorry to interrupt but the Proconsul of State is here to see you!"
He smiled at her, she had been his assistant at Belinsky Paper long before entering politics and he truly liked being around her. Maria was one of the few people whom he could talk to and immediately feel happier afterwards. She was also one of the few whom he allowed to address him by his name rather than title.
"Thanks Marunya, send him in. You're the best!" He smiled again.
"No, you are!" They both laughed and she continued, playing with her hair. "I'll send him right in." With a swish of her dress she turned around and left the chamber, heels clacking on the marble floor. A pang of regret hit him shortly after she left. He knew what happened to women like her in the Reich. But business was business and Vetalia needed business more than emotions.
He lit another cigarette and waited for the Proconsul to enter.
Part II: Come Softly to Me
The Proconsul of State paused at the door to ensure he would not disturb the Praetor but upon seeing him staring out of the window rather than his computer knocked on the sill. As was the usual case in Vetalia, the Proconsul of State was a close personal friend of the Praetor. Friends appointed or hired friends to key positions. The Praetor turned the radio back on and the pleasant sound of "Come Softly to Me" played.
Might as well make it comfortable, nobody wants to send their friend to claim the Sword of Damocles Another pang of regret, but suppressed when the Proconsul entered.
The Praetor turned to face him. "Vova, you as well as I understand our position in the region."
"Of course, Vasily. But what do you want me to do about it, I'm only-"
"That's not the point, Vova. I am sending you to the Reich to cultivate an alliance between our nations. They have already expressed a willingness to this end and would be willing to back us in the reclamation of the Londinian lands as well as other future gains."
"But what about the risks, what about-"
The Praetor cut him off. "The risks are acceptable, we have no other option at this point. Our nation lacks the resources to fight on its own."
"We need someone to negotiate this treaty and you are it." Pausing after being so blunt to his friend he added "Vova, our country can't stand alone, we need someone strong to help us bring back the way things were. You've proven how good you are at this job and I trust you to get it done."
"Of course, Vasily."
The Vetalian delegation departed to the Reich a week later.
Part I: I Wonder Why
Praetorial Palace, Vetalia City, Vetalia
I wonder why/I love you like I do/Is it because I think you love me too/I wonder why I love you like I-
*snap* as the Praetor turned off his radio with a quick turn of the dial. The most popular Vetalian song of the year ended with an abrupt silence, leaving only the soft patter of rain against the darkened window as background noise. This wasn't a night for something as schmaltzy as that.
Pausing for a moment, he turned to the window. In the distance, he could see the intense light of Vetalia City's central business district, that golden heart of the country churning out its unimaginable wealth day in and day out. None of them knew just how much things would change in a few short weeks. He had seen the results of Vetalia's last Grand Alliance firsthand, but this time was different...he was playing with fire and he knew it.
But desperate times call for desperate measures; the rearmament process was proceeding haltingly at best and he was faced with the prospect of an unfavorable treaty regarding the Londinian territories. Peering out the window of the now-silent room, he ruminated over the negotiations with Ganosia.
A lease, a fucking lease...the lands we settled, we built, the lands of British Londinium...all sayonvoir.
The sudden intrusion of a Volscian word into his thoughts was unnerving, he had never had a solid command of the language and was surprised it was so involuntary. Irrelevant, though, what mattered was the present. He couldn't bring back the Golden Age of the past but he could sure as hell try to create a new one. He pulled a cigarette from his case and lit it, the blue smoke drifting upwards towards the ceiling before being swiftly removed by the air purifier.
The Proconsul of State will be here soon, hope he likes this new assignment He gave a short, sardonic laugh at the thought. The Proconsul of State was the quintessential Vetalian, warm, friendly and polite beyond belief. It would be an interesting challenge to send him to the Reich.
The mission had already been cleared by the Senate under the innocuously named "International Trade Relations Act", buried in an obscure part of the legislation regarding sales of Vetalian automotive parts to foreign countries. As expected, the Senate had passed it without even considering the specific provision, focusing instead on the meatier parts of the bill that were more appealing to constituents. A knock on the door interrupted his rumination.
"Come in."
Maria poked her head in. "Hi Vasily, sorry to interrupt but the Proconsul of State is here to see you!"
He smiled at her, she had been his assistant at Belinsky Paper long before entering politics and he truly liked being around her. Maria was one of the few people whom he could talk to and immediately feel happier afterwards. She was also one of the few whom he allowed to address him by his name rather than title.
"Thanks Marunya, send him in. You're the best!" He smiled again.
"No, you are!" They both laughed and she continued, playing with her hair. "I'll send him right in." With a swish of her dress she turned around and left the chamber, heels clacking on the marble floor. A pang of regret hit him shortly after she left. He knew what happened to women like her in the Reich. But business was business and Vetalia needed business more than emotions.
He lit another cigarette and waited for the Proconsul to enter.
Part II: Come Softly to Me
The Proconsul of State paused at the door to ensure he would not disturb the Praetor but upon seeing him staring out of the window rather than his computer knocked on the sill. As was the usual case in Vetalia, the Proconsul of State was a close personal friend of the Praetor. Friends appointed or hired friends to key positions. The Praetor turned the radio back on and the pleasant sound of "Come Softly to Me" played.
Might as well make it comfortable, nobody wants to send their friend to claim the Sword of Damocles Another pang of regret, but suppressed when the Proconsul entered.
The Praetor turned to face him. "Vova, you as well as I understand our position in the region."
"Of course, Vasily. But what do you want me to do about it, I'm only-"
"That's not the point, Vova. I am sending you to the Reich to cultivate an alliance between our nations. They have already expressed a willingness to this end and would be willing to back us in the reclamation of the Londinian lands as well as other future gains."
"But what about the risks, what about-"
The Praetor cut him off. "The risks are acceptable, we have no other option at this point. Our nation lacks the resources to fight on its own."
"We need someone to negotiate this treaty and you are it." Pausing after being so blunt to his friend he added "Vova, our country can't stand alone, we need someone strong to help us bring back the way things were. You've proven how good you are at this job and I trust you to get it done."
"Of course, Vasily."
The Vetalian delegation departed to the Reich a week later.