A Turn of the Page -- Open IC (Coronation/Masquerade)

[Midlonia]

Naiya

“Well, aren’t you quite the charmer.” Julianne said with a genuine smile as she took Naiya’s hand briefly. “Yes, when these two are not fighting like cats and dogs they can be quite acceptable as a family.”

Frederick glanced flatly towards his mother at that moment, but did not let out an audible sigh at least. Vogue smiled a little wider, showing off her own prominent cuspides before she let her lips drop a little. When Naiya came to them she dropped into a deep curtsey, as was befitting.

“Thank you, Imperatrice. We’ll let people know if we need anything, but from the Plaza outside and the city… well, I think many of the bases have been so thoughtfully covered already.” Frederick said with a softer voice than his brother.

“We’re quite looking forward to the Mascarade itself. I haven’t attended one in…. a while.” Vogue said, catching herself slightly before she said ‘decades’. She was, after all a Porphyrian with a life span slightly longer than that of ghouls.

They all laughed when Naiya spoke of Aeturnus, who himself seemed to stiffen slightly before he relaxed with her by his side.

The Midlonians then politely stepped to the side, as it was the turn of the Commonwealth part of the family. Sarah did squeeze Henry’s hand for attention when Semphyra seemed to… react to Aeturnus.

Henry gave the slightest imperceptible nod at that and continued to watch, as if merely interested by proceedings and happy to see his relatives make more personal connections with the next generation of the Dominion.

Then of course, there was the future to consider… Henry glanced to the room in which the heirs were located, but another slight squeeze from Sarah stopped him from moving.

“Perhaps we should allow the little ones to rest a while. The night is young after all, and children tend to need their sleep… even if they wind up hopped up on sugar.” Sarah said a little louder, mostly so the others wouldn’t go barging in disturbing the babies. That mostly went for Prime Minister Bagnall also, after all his baby face had had part of his campaign hinge on just those sorts of pictures and as a result he could never miss a photo op, real or imagined.

Out in the Bay

The Midlonic seemed to be somewhat coming to life. Men in their red uniform with white cross straps were moving rapidly past the large ball room windows. Some were hauling boxes, others cable. One pair, hulking ghouls seemed to be running a large wheel of power cord out on a large cable drum carrying the heavy drum like it was no weight at all. Then again, that was how the Ghouls were with such things.

Out on rear part of the ship, a single lithe figure had hold of a cable of some sort and was feeding it downward to the men below, questions were being shouted back and forth as the men were busying themselves with something, but because of the size of the ship what those questions were was reduced to a strange barely audible sound. The main thing that could be discerned, weirdly, was the various accents. Porphyrian’s superbly clipped tones, a Ghouls’ deeper rumble, the lazy lilting accent of the Birchestes… the usual mixed bag that made up the Greater Kingdom all working together for… something.

[Roania]

"Having a good time, my dear?" Nesar had made little, if any, alteration to his usual attire for the ceremony. An acquaintance of the new Imperatrice he may be, but he was listed as a part of the Empress' security, so he was dressed for the purpose of securing her. He wore a loose overcoat that fell down to around his ankles, but fit tight enough to his chest that, at least theoretically, any weapons would be difficult to hide there. As far as anyone could tell, the only weapon Nesar carried was the unobtrusive pistol at his waist.

"When did I become 'your dear?' And I suppose I am having a passable time, surrounded as I am by barbarians." Daria had made no changes either. Of course, her usual attire was a slim, close-cut dress, so it was rather more appropriate formal wear anyway. Today, she had chosen a long, flowing qipao that was, at least theoretically, modest. Modest, in that it went from her neck to her ankles. Theoretical, in that it fit tightly to every generous curve, left her shoulders completely bare, and had a slit along the right side from the upper thigh down to her shoes. The effect may have been spoiled by the presence of a pistol strapped to that thigh, and another just at the curve of the opposite hip, but considering where they were... not by much. Nesar shrugged, an eloquent shrug that indicated that, will she or wouldn't she, he was going to carry on calling her that. Yes, it was a very eloquent shrug. She even paused to admire it, before blowing through pursed, if plump, lips and shaking her head. "Do as you will, then. Shall we, 'my dear', go and see how the 'barbarians' amuse themselves?"

"You know, there is a great deal we can learn from these people you so calmly dismiss as barbarians. And I had hardly thought you to be of that party." Nesar took her by the hand and stepped onto the edge of the piazza, taking a deep breath and smiling. "You smell that, for instance? I don't believe you can find coffee anywhere near as good within the Empire's borders. Shall we have a cup? My treat, as they say."

"It is all well and good to talk about learning from the barbarians, Nesar, but not when we are surrounded by them. Hundreds of them." Daria shuddered. "The smell alone..." She went with Nesar, regardless, as the two of them stepped into the cafe, quietly letting him fold her into his presence. Her eyes followed the movement of every man and woman in the room. Apparently, one of those chieftains the lesser barbarians dubbed monarchs was here. She was prepared to be underwhelmed should the opportunity to meet this supposed puissance arose.

"Una tavola per due, per favore." The head waiter bowed and took Nesar and Daria to a table towards the back, where he pulled out the seat for Daria and let her in, then allowed Nesar to return her to her place. The hawk-faced man smiled at her and took his seat opposite, his own eyes carefully following the movement of every man, and most of the women, in the room before his attention returned to hers. The two of them spoke rapidly in High Roanian, the woman seeming to want more answers than he was prepared to give, but when the winelist came she settled back and gave him a slow glower as he scanned the winelist. After a moment he looked up. "Mia moglie avrà il vinno rosso, di sorrento, di 76. Porterò il vino bianco, di Devras, di 84. Grazie." When the man left, Nesar favored her with a slow smile.

"Showing your facility with what is still a barbarian tongue does not impress me. And what was that you were calling me? A moglie?"

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Elsani City States

“Perdona mia, Singnora,” said a gentleman at Ms Vossyr’s left. “Were you wanting to partake in one of the games? Certainly, there are some high stakes games, but not all, if that is a concern.”

He was definitely a Dominion native, with his light olive complexion, dark hair, and hazel eyes that were currently looking her over curiously. The man was dressed in an appropriately formal dark suit, and stood slightly higher than a number of his countrymen, and what appeared to be diamond cufflinks accented it, which could be seen as he offered a hand in greeting.

“Marius Russo. I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself so far?”

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Solont

It might be more difficult to maintain situational awareness in a large moving crowd, or perhaps the person approaching from behind has some skills worth noting. Whatever the case, as the pair make their way towards the government building, they are hugged from behind, one arm on each, and a mischievously-smiling face pokes in between to glance up at them both.

“Jimmy! Kana! I had no idea you’d both be here! How in hell have you been?”

There’s no mistaking the voice, or the purple hair, which is currently done up in a neat French braided bun – which reveals lightly-tufted hears that had never been willingly displayed before. Also different was the habitually casual attire, having been traded for a simple black uniform.

“And what have you been up to over the past while? It feels like ages!”

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

New Edom

“Certamente, I’ll get this right to the kitchen. Just let me know if there’s anything else I can get you,” said the serving girl, smiling brightly and making note on her datapad of their order, which was immediately relayed to the back.

She paused before moving on to her next table, at hearing Mara’s comments, though. “Pardon, I couldn’t help but overhear … please don’t think this rude, but you may not be aware. The Imperatrice is holding audience for any who wish to speak to her personally. It’s open to anyone, even regular folks like myself, if I had something I needed assistance with or were asking a pardon. The Chancellor is making arrangements just outside the government buildings across the way.”

Melina smiled a bit more nervously, and nodded politely. “I’m sorry – just trying to be helpful. I’ll go make sure they have your orders going.”

[Sakkra]

In the Piazza proper, taking a stroll and enjoying the splendor that the occasion warranted, First-Admiral Shaar and First-General Gaarm donned their disguises, such as they were. Perhaps unfamiliar to the locals save as tales of bogie-men, Shaar was dressed as the Scion of Flame in a red full-body wrapping and head-dress with orange and yellow tassels. Gaarm decided on taking on the Void Scion's appearance, with his leather body wrappings in blueish-black with small silver dots and accents here and there. His head-dress looked more like a massive horned skull than anything else with a cowl that covered his neck nicely.. Both wore long capes that covered their tails, so they didn't really hit the ground but seemed to flow out behind them.

As they walk and look about, their conversation is untranslated. It sounds like hissing and snarling to casual ears. "<Remind me why I agreed to accompany you? I have fringe-system rebellions to stomp and pan-dimensional spies to bite on.>" Gaarm steadied one eye on Shaar while his other kept himself from trampling on the more lively and unaware revelers. "<If you'll remember, you invited me to be your arm decor when you got the news on the feed. Oop!>" A particularly loud party-goer nearly bumped into Gaarm's forearm as he seemed to be regaling his 'audience' with a tale of some sort that involved the flailing of arms and legs. "<Seems to be getting wild here. Let's find a spot with more room to move.>"

[Northrop-Grumman]

Siri O’Neill clutched her husband’s arm as her rather small four-person delegation steadily made their way away from the coronation’s seating area. In this sea of titled individuals, it made her ponder her own. She called herself the Chairwoman of Northrop-Grumman, but that particular title was no longer accurate for the position she held; the Corporation had been knocked down to being an actual for-profit business instead of being in command over an entire nation, so the title still applied in a sense – she did control the company – but it no longer had any power behind it. Then again, no other title fit perfectly right now during this transition that they were going through, and with these fiscally tight times, who wants to go through all the paperwork, change the letterhead, and potentially annoy Accounting about wasteful spending? Thankfully though, the bean counters could not bitch too much about the trip to the Dominion as the delegation paid out of their own pockets for all their expenses.

Today, the delegation consisted of Siri, of course, a three and a half century old wood elf, wearing her usual floor-length emerald dress with golden leaves embroidered into it, which was, as always, not particularly revealing. She was never overly big on having an expansive wardrobe selection, especially when she wore formal clothes only when she was absolutely forced to. Instead, she threw that saved money into armor and various weaponry – things she actually enjoyed.

Accompanying her was her taller husband, Jack, a human of a little over a hundred years, but while Siri was around three times his age, her appearance was actually of a woman a third of his. Despite being retired from any and all roles he once held, he still came today wearing his dark blue Air Force uniform, polished black shoes, and service cap. It was sort of the same situation as his wife’s. He couldn’t remember the last time he ever put on a tuxedo or a suit, and the uniform was just about all he had in that sort of formal area.

Behind them, walking hand in hand was Alakantar, their son; and his fiancée, Arielle. Since he was a drow, a dark elf, he had opted for a suit that was more grey-toned, so that it didn’t clash so much with his black skin and snow-white hair.

“You were right, my love. It was good to get out.” Arielle kissed Alakantar on the cheek and squeezed his hand. She had not altered her usual pattern of dress from work too much, sticking with an ankle-length blue-and-red dress that showed off her richer hues. “I think we’d still both prefer to be working.”

“Maybe for another event, but this time, no,” he smiled and shook his head. “The Dominion has been one of our closest allies and Nathi’s a personal friend. Both have helped bail us out of a bunch of jams. It’s the least we can do to be here.”

“So what did you think of everything?” Siri finally asked of Jack, steadying his slightly wobbly gait, while his cane kept him stable on his other side. The sitting managed, as it always had, to get the joints in his legs all stiffened up, which tended to be a pain in the ass and required walking around a bit to get them moving again.

“Hrm?” he grunted, not averting his gaze from the walkway ahead of him so as to not stumble, and then after a few seconds of thought, responded. “Oh, it was nice and straightforward. Didn’t have to spend hours going through a slog of a ceremony, whatever church services are usually shoved onto us, and the usual hour long parade, or whatever.”

She couldn’t leave his answer at that and pressed him. “But…”

He briefly paused walking and cocked his head to one side, peering down at his much shorter wife through his dark sunglasses. “Eh?”

“I know your quiet, pensive look by now.”

“Oh. Am I really that obvious?” He frowned and sighed. “I suppose I’ve just been thinking about how everyone’s moving on, retiring…or dying. You and I managed to outlast a good chunk of the Prussians and a few of our own allies – Phoren and some others. Then I left, which I’m not complaining about really. It’s about time it happened, and I’m not too inclined to go back. But now, Nathi’s out, who I expected to be there forever. Who’s next?”

“It just comes with the territory I suppose. Times change, people grow older, like yourself, and want to retire and maybe do something they really want to do without the burden of leadership. But I see what you are saying: there has been a string of them lately. They probably figure that with everyone leaving now is as good of a time as any – let the next generation come into office with a fresh slate with their colleagues.”

“Yeah, probably…it’s just sad that it’s happening though.”

“I am not planning on going anywhere any time soon,” she added, trying to add a little levity to the conversation. Him talking about such depressing matters was not the best thing to be doing right now, especially at a celebratory occasion such as this.

“You’re gonna outlast everyone and the heat death of the universe with your damned stubbornness.” He laughed. “You’ll find some way to hang on even when you’re old and ancient, and if somehow you manage to finally kick it, you’ll probably start pestering poor Alak from beyond the grave.”

“I’ll have to make a note to have an exorcist on call,” Alak piped in from behind them with a smirk.

“Ah yes, a priest telling me what to do! That has always worked!” She then winked at Jack. “You know, I almost became a nun once!”

“Ah, what a load of nunsense!”

“Don’t start!”

And so the four continued to meander their way around with no particular destination in mind, just talking amongst themselves and taking in the sights around them, getting a feel for the city which they had heard so much of but never had the opportunity to visit.

OOC: At this point my posting schedule is going to be once a day or once every other day, so be warned if you're expecting quick responses. That's not to say I wouldn't like some interaction, but I just want to give people a heads up.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Midlonia

“Not to worry, even me and Marcus have had our moments. Fighting and fussing is what siblings do,” Naiya answered the queen mother, smiling, then offering Frederick a wink before acknowledging his response.

“Bene grazie, we do try – it’s tradition, you know. Hospitality. Your own people have done much the same in my experience. I can’t wait to see your costumes, Vogue.” Naiya offered Aeturnus a comforting squeeze as she slipped her arm around his waist throughout the conversation.

'Relax, tessoro. We’re used to being around various people by now, yes? Even if some are more … gifted than others.'

“If you’d rather, we can set you up with rooms here on the Piazza for the little ones, and anyone wishing to rest or change between things,” she offered aloud. “It is a bit closer than the ship, after all. Think on that if it pleases you, while I see to your cousins?”

----- ----- -----

The Freethinkers

Naiya greeted Cyriana warmly, and then her sister as well. “It is a pleasure to see you again, your Highnesses. Thank you very much. As with your cousins, please – don’t hesitate to ask should there be anything you or yours needs. It has been a while since that rather odd meeting amongst ”

The young woman quirked a secretive smile at Semphyra, one brow arching up slightly. In challenge, or just friendly amusement? “You’re looking absolutely stunning, Lady Semphyra. Try not to break too many of the local hearts. They bruise easily, and I’ll have them moping for months,” she teased, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. “Though you’ll pardon if I hope to be remembered well, if not forever. It’s to be hoped my reign will be a quiet one.”

“It’s been some time since that rather odd gathering with the Luxans, though it appears they’re managing fine, last I saw. Lord Broxtowe, again, a pleasure,” she continued, attempting to greet each of the group.

“At some point, when the babies are older at least, I think I’d like to set up a safari of sorts in the outback. Perhaps it’s a venture several of us could engage in?” Naiya asked both groups at large, settling back in next to Aeturnus, then glancing up at him as well for a moment. “Mama has told me stories about some of the Sakkran creatures they’ve gone after before, but there’s something about the desert – and those enormous beasties – that calls to me, I suppose.”

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Roania

There was one delegacy who had perhaps a closer eye on them than others. For one part, due to past experiences, and for another, due to who they were. One was the divine empress of a very touchy empire, and her very protective husband was close at hand. Not to mention, their young heir. Another was not trusted further than a high-born lady could spit – which was not at all. And the last, well … he was a known assassin, and a damned good one at that. Not to mention concerns by the former Imperatrice and security at large, or his known escapades, which likely did little more than scratch the surface of what he had gotten up to in his lifetime.

It would have been impolitic to have made any mention of concerns, and thus nothing had been said. Merely noted in the fine print that came up whenever their temporary ident cards were referenced. Observation was kept low key, but constant. Not that others were not watched, of course – any gathering of royals and delegates was always very closely monitored, for safety if nothing else.

Still, it was with some surprise that the more immediately dangerous pair headed towards the café. Of course they were treated with respect, as were any and all guests, regardless of station – the local businessmen and women, unless they were more aware, had no idea for the most part who a great many of the people were. But Dominion hospitality, and tourist dollars, had always been high on the list of priorities. It was business as usual for most of them, especially those this close to the heart of the nation.

As the gentleman had addressed them in their native tongue, the service continued to converse with him in it, taking no note of any problems between the two. It was none of their business, really. If the couple were having a spat, perhaps a nice meal and a glass or two of wine would help smooth it over.

Meanwhile, the imperial couple were offered any assistance they may require, in order to help the beautiful young empress in resting and refreshing herself, and taking care of the little one. And a brief message from Naiya was passed on, wishing them both well, and thanking them for attending, along with a bottle of chilled wine from the private family stock.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Sakkra

The ever-impressive Sakkrans were hard to miss, in any crowd. And the pair that had come were even more impressive in their beautifully-crafted ensembles. There are in fact chairs and benches to accommodate the Dominion’s larger, and tail-bearing allies here and there, as well as glasses or flagons to accommodate differently-shaped mouths. The tradition had started further back when alliances had been initially made, and especially in Devras, where many races mixed and mingled, the tradition had become more of a common occurrence.

One of the more exotic tables even appeared to be serving Paroo, to those of a more adventurous bent. It was merely an ongoing family joke that had inspired the small fountain that seemed to be made of a thick, shiny, viscous liquid that upon closer inspection turned out to be … motor oil?

Cesare Calabrese, Dominion Chancellor, caught sight of the pair from afar, and not so subtly adjusted the neck of his shirt, and the deep red cravat. Shaar was one even the most daunting might call … formidable, at the very least. And he’d seen her handiwork with a fellow conspirator years ago. The memory was one that had remained fresh, in spite of efforts to drink it away. And it affected him no less now than it had then.

There would be time for polite greetings later, no doubt. In the meantime, it was well he remained an ‘honorable servant of the realm’, yes? Quite. And as such, hoped to keep his head right where it was, and not, as his partner in crime, be decorating a certain office, tastefully (if such a thing were possible) encased in amber.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Northrop-Grumman

As with all of the guests, this group was offered every courtesy without attempts at being overly-smothering. Drinks and such were still being served throughout the crowd. One might even suspect the overall movements were being coordinated from somewhere that had a good view from above – which oddly enough, they were.

In the course however, another brief message was passed on, wishing the group well from both the current and past Imperatrice, and heartfelt thanks for their attendance, with instructions for the message bearer to attend to any needs the four of them may have – and a personal note from Naiya to Arielle and Alakantar, happy that two more good people were finding some happiness together.

[Roania]

"What I called you, my dear?" Nesar smiled as the wine was bought to them, then beckoned the waiter over once more. "Io e mia moglie avranno la capellini... scusi, cameriere." He directed his attention back to Daria. "The bolognese, then? It's a meat sauce... beef, in this establishment, I believe. Similar to cao-mian sauce, back home." Daria just looked at him as if she was sure a joke was being played on her, and the assassin smiled and looked back up to the waiter. "Io e mia moglie avranno la capellini ala bolognese. Con un po formaggio, per favore." After the waiter moved to depart, Nesar hesitated. "Scusi, cameriere. A... Mia moglie crede che lei è un patrono delle arti.Vorrei pagare un trovatore un bel gratuità di cantare per lei. Un canzoni d'amore, comprende? Grazi."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Roania

"Naturalamente, Signore. Fin da subito. I miei complimenti per la bella moglie," the man said, offering the pair a brief bow before departing and making a quick gesture to one of the others closer to the door. "Antonio, trovatore, prego. Romantico, eh? Rapidamente."

Their orders were taken back to the kitchen, to be prepared as requested, while the complimentary warm bread and spiced olive dipping oil was provided. It wasn't long before one of the wandering minstrels from outside was wending his way through the seated patrons, singing in what was, by all accounts, quite a good voice.

He was one of the more dreamy-looking of the locals, as some of the young women might say, with deep brown eyes, thick black hair that had a natural wave to it, worn just long enough to look the right blend of roguish and artistic. He wore a simple white shirt, undone at the top to reveal a tasteful gold chain and crucifix - not uncommon, given the predominant faith here - crisply-pressed black pants, and a red sash, embroidered in colorful, traditional designs.

With all the skill of a practiced entertainer, he shifted his song, serenading the pair with of course, all due attention to the lovely lady. It seemed the poor man here was in the doghouse with her, given her somewhat icy expressions, and so he would do his best to help smooth things over, by way of song. After all, what woman wouldn't be flattered to have her partner make such a request?

[The Elsani City States]

And sometimes, people simply get what they're looking for. In this case it's a meaningful distraction; "Katherine." She answers, followed by a simple explanation of why she's here, in Italian. Ms Vossyr understands a variety of 'native'(To Earth, that is) languages, yet the pronunciation is awkward.
Even if she weren't a wildly different colour from human norm, her mannerisms and handle on the local language would mark her out as a foreigner.

She isn't a gambling addict, but these things are always designed to get that little bit more from you. Designed to waste time, and in this case it suits the green woman perfectly. Time to waste until more important events of the day, time to spend with a tall diamond clad native-or at least, that's what is first noticed.
A hand shaked, and a smile offered. Even with such small gestures, they serve a purpose. What would the average charming-and hardly average-locals think of the coronation and the assorted celebrations?
She would ask as much in that same slightly awkward Italian.

[Soldati Senza Confini]

Charles stayed in the plaza talking with other people. Regulars, he knew, as their accents were not as refined as Naiya or Nathicana. He knew that the entire ceremony was a gesture of the transfer of power. He also knew he probably should go ahead and give his congratulations personally to Naiya, being the recently elected president in place of the old president Carlo. He was seeing very interesting changes in the politics of the nations his country kept in touch. He was excited this was his chance to make change in the politics of his nation.

When he got to the plaza everything was peaceful, solemn, and very elaborate. Just as a royal ceremony should be. When he saw Naiya he thought she was beautiful, and that her voice projected. She will make an excellent empress he thought as he saw also the successors. They will need to be raised around politics, around a base to protect themselves with, and Naiya seemed to be a rock in this ceremony. He hoped that she would be as strong for the things to come.

After the ceremony, he walked around and headed towards the empress' place, hoping to make arrangements to see the new head of state of the Dominion. He was excited about it but also a bit nervous. He hoped Carlo was right about Naiya as he reassured him to be. Carlo, the former head of state, did introduce Charles to the family, if anything by the memories he had about their politics as far as he could tell.

Carlo never could visit or even meet with the Empress Nathicana though, as he was too busy fighting wars and making diplomacy to ensure the well being of Soldati Senza Confini after he was gone. As the successor to his dad Carolus' rule, he felt responsible to seal alliances with nations that he made political contact with and nations he barely knew, just so he could have an ample base of allies to legitimize power, unlike his father who strengthened things on the inside.

Now it was Charles' turn to make politics, and he hoped to make a good first impression. His fancy suit with silver highlights on his shoulders and chest went well with the rest of the ceremony. He just hoped this would not be too fancy for the ceremony and that people would be put off by it.

[Sakkra]

The smell of Paroo is an unmistakable smell indeed. If it's brewed with the care and attention it deserves, it would be considered able to choke a room full of standard humans. The viscous Kansee-vine extract can certainly do that. But this smell had a hint of something light and airy to it. "<Come, heart. Let us sit away from the maddening crowds and the slings and arrows of .... how was that again?>" Shaar glared down daggers at Gaarm. "<All these Sol-Standard years we have been paired and you still do not know misquoted Shakespeare riles my chops?>" She could indeed stare him down, being a full head taller than him, but such was standard in the Herpetological Empire. The females tended to be more massive and more temperamental than the males. "<To be fair, First-Admiral, EVERYTHING riles your chops. But let us remember we are here for relaxation, not beheadings.>"

Gaarm held her seat for her as she uttered a barely-audible and guttural rumble from the back of her throat, her dewlap flashing a bit of lavender. "<Between you and that meddlesome hatchling of ours, it is a wonder I get anything done in the I.S.N. with you two constantly trying to wind me down.>" Gaarm moved around the table to sit opposite Shaar, removing his skull from his head and breathing deeply. "<There is a time for action, and a time to just let things happen. The latter is now, so let us enjoy the Flow as it comes.>"

[Scolopendra]

In two different slots in the audience schedule, in no particular order...

Totally Official Federated Segments Delegation

Two uniforms, mostly identical. Civil Service uniforms, while following patterns identical to Military Service uniforms, tend to have less impressive ribbon blocks, as they're usually limited to things such as long-service awards and silver swimming certificates. Prior-military personnel in the Civil Service do get to retain their military awards, however, so the Supreme Emperor has an impressive array of colored squares over her left breast. After the obligatory and probably stylized introductions, the Scolopendrans bow shortly in their traditional greeting.

"The Federated Segments of Scolopendra congratulate you on your ascension to the throne and look forward to working with you towards a prosperous future. Our two nations have worked closely for yedecemi and I personally hope to continue that tradition," Ipolla says professionally. For a moment, it looks like she might say a little more, but she stops there.

The actual professional diplomat takes that as his cue. "We all know that there was some friction in the recent past due to conflicts of personality, yet this friction did not prevent us from cooperating as friends should. It is our hope that we can continue our history of cooperation and close relations even as we work to sand off our rough edges."

Mballa glances momentarily towards her subordinate, tightens her lips momentarily, relaxes them, smiles thinly.

*-*-*

Totally Official Combined Services Delegation

Senior Diplomatic Officer Zinn'Yersha stands in the back because this isn't her show. Instead it's the good Sky Marshal front-and-center in full ceremonial dress, which is essentially identical to the everyday Class A uniform because it is. Sure, he gets the cape and the sword in addition to the blocky powergun pistol and wheel cap, but those just come with the rank. The dull, stubby stone wt'sai knife and chain of pink sandstone triangles and other assorted trophies, on the other hand, are arguably Shorty's fault.

"Congratulations from the Triumvirate of Yut Combined Services, ma'am," he says. Then he looks around and shrugs. "Awaiting orders."

[Zero-One]

Around the Sakkrans

In the section of the plaza containing the Sakkran delegation, there was a woman. To be fair, there were many women, but we're talking about this one. She was dressed somewhere in the vicinity of intersection between elegance and ostentation, but in this crowd that failed to make her stand out, the same as her Mediterranean olive tone and black hair brushed down and back to hide her ears. She wore an ankle-length dress of blue and silver covered by a similarly styled long-sleeved coat, buckled near the throat and with a high collar completely hiding her neck. With less intense colors the overall effect was roughly that of a Victorian equestrienne. Not as frilly as some yet still a little more formal than others, she fit in well enough in her broad-brimmed blue sun hat and sunglasses.

Of course, that was when she wasn't sipping from her glass of motor oil.

If you watched her, you would see that she timed those sips to match up with errant glances from passerbys or others watching the crowd. She used the same timing principle to daintily refill her glass.

What a strange woman.

I told you there was one.

[Roania]

The door opened, and Imperial Consort Selevar stood there, his eyes a bit glazed. Gone were the flowing robes and armor of his time at the coronation. Instead, he was dressed in a simple blue changshan that hung half-open at the chest. "May I help you?" When the servants explained their presence, he smiled in a vaguely friendly fashion. "Ah... yes, thank you." He straightened himself with some difficulty and summoned a reserve of dignity, then nodded. "The Lady of Ten Thousand Years greatly appreciates the new Imperatrice taking the time to welcome her. Unfortunately, she is unable to drink at the moment, for the health of the young prince."

The guards at either side of the door, taking Selevar's nod as a dismissal for the servants, began to close the door, but they were stopped by a soft voice. "Ah... company? You might have called, darling." Alessa came out of the back of the chamber, carrying a small bundle in her arms with the greatest delicacy. The Empress looked tired, but she was still glowing with happiness. Out of uniform, and with her hair down, falling to the back, she may not have been recognized as the Empress were it not for the way every Roanian stiffened at her approach. "Is that from Naiya? Forgive me. I mean, the Imperatrice sent this, did she not?" She passed her bundle to Selevar, who suddenly went absolutely stock still, then took the bottle of wine. "Selevar, he is not going to break. Just hold him." This close, the guards could see that while the Empress was, if possible, even lovelier than usual. Motherhood evidently agreed with her, as the soft glow of her skin showed. Only the slightest signs of exhaustion were allowed a presence on the imperial face, along with the faintest of dark spots. But Alessa, like any good Roanian wife, preferred to stay out of the sun, anyway. "It is a lovely gift." She turned it over and over in her hands, then slowly placed it on the table and took her child back from its stunned father. "I would like to convey my greetings to the Imperatrice. It would also be a pleasure if I were able to meet her for a moment. May you pass on my request, please?"


"Now I know you're doing something, Nesar." Daria hissed, so her words wouldn't be overheard by the musician. A gently pointed ear twitched, though, to show she was listening. Of course, she had no idea what was being sung, but it was certainly pretty. Though she was not about to admit that. Nesar shrugged again, and held his hands out, showing nothing but his open and friendly smile. Even had Daria ever fallen for an open and friendly smile, she knew better than to accept his at face value. She was being played. But how? And why? "What do you want? And none of this 'my dear' business."

"Why, beloved, why would you think I wished anything other than your delightful company? I have so enjoyed it at times over the years." Nesar sipped his wine, and smiled to the musician. "Ah, and you will disturb our accompaniment if you continue to growl in such a way." A muscle above Daria's eye twitched, just slightly, but she turned to the musician and managed to purse her plump lips into a smile. Nesar clapped his hands, once, and turned to the"... bello, bello, piacevole! Mia moglie è bella quando è arrabbiata, ma avrei preferito che lei sorridere."

Daria's fists clenched under the table. "You invited me as your accompaniment to this event for a reason, Nesar. Was it merely to mock me in a new field? I tolerate it elsewhere out of respect for our long-standing... acquaintance, but to humiliate me in front of these... barbarians... is a step too far even for you." She began to rise, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to her seat, eyes flashing.

"Is it too much to assume I enjoy your company? Why must everything be a game?"

"Everything is a game, to you. I am. The Empress. Your family. Only you play the game against yourself, and the rules are only known to you. We're playing a different game, here. And remember. You are forgiven your trespasses, but they are not forgotten, Nesar Cheruv. Hands on the table." Daria sat back down, and placed both hands flat on the table, challenging him to do the same. After a moment, he dropped his hands too, looking her in the eyes. She smiled again. "Well done." And then she drove her heel into his boot, hard enough for him to feel it. Nesar winced, just a little, but kept his expression otherwise straight. "Nothing to say?"

The man's smile cracked, but just for a moment. "So temperamental, my dear. I invited you because I enjoy many aspects of your company. I ordered music because I thought you approve of music. I have been nothing but the soul of generosity to you today, and you repay me with suspicion and violence." Daria hesitated, and Nesar moved his foot away from her. For a moment, he said nothing, and then his smile returned. "Your wine should be drunk while fresh, beloved."

Keeping an eye on him, Daria sipped her wine, letting the flavor and the sensation flow over her. She slowly relaxed, favoring him with a smile. "Yes, I suppose you have been generous." The game was known to her now, or so she thought. He wanted to bed her again. Despite his claims that she was merely passable, obviously she had been on his mind a great deal since that night. Men are all the same. "I suppose if you're willing to continue being generous, I'm willing to let my suspicions go." String him along, get him to buy her some presents, and then when they got back to the hotel... maybe she'd let him, maybe she wouldn't. Now she knew what was going on, she relaxed and let her smile become as genuine as it could. Yes, this would be very nice. Now that the end of the game was known, she was going to play for all she was worth.

[Solont]

Situational awareness was something of a necessary sacrifice for Kana. Being what she was, it was always necessary for her to wear a limiter when she went traveling, to lock down her extra sensory abilities for the sake of the privacy of others. Unfortunately, her other senses didn't quiiite pick up the slack, which often led to her being rather clumsy and a touch oblivious when she was attending sensitive occasions such as this. James, on the other hand, could claim no such excuse. He was just an ordinary young man with a lot on his mind.

Consequently, both of them were taken entirely by surprise by their mysteriously friendly and enthusiastic assailant, though James was the first to recognize her. After all, there was only one person in the world who ever called him 'Jimmy.'

“Talia!” He shouted, and the biggest damn smile crossed his face. “Good god, it really is you!” Without a moments warning, he turned and wrapped his arms around the Dominion Neko, lifted her up, and spun her around before setting her back on her feet. She'd scarcely get the time to collect herself though, because as soon as James let her go, it was Kana's turn. The foxgirl flung herself at Talia from behind and gave her tight squeeze, and capped things off with an affectionate ruffle of her hair.

“We were just talking about you!” Kana says exuberantly. “We didn't think we'd see you here either! I'm just taking my mom's place at the Coronation ceremony, since she couldn't be here herself, and I brought 'Jimmy' here as my bodyguard.”

“For what it's worth,” James clarified, as a bashful smile crossed his face. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I only just finished Officer Training, like, a week ago, and haven't even been posted to a squadron yet. What about you, though? You look really impressive in that uniform.” he added. He took a step back and admired Talia from head to toe. It was strange to see her looking so formal; every time he imagined her, he picture that wild and untamed head of violet hair, ripped jeans, and her quintessential 'Make me purr' T-shirt. And yet, there she was, looking as professional as could be. In James' opinion, she wore the look rather well.

“What he's trying to say is that you're looking mad hot, girl,” Kana grinned. “What're you doing here, anyways? Are you going to be around for long? We should totally catch up after our meeting with the Imperatrice, if you're going to be here,”

[Midlonia]

Pressing onward

“The costumes for it are actually in the embassy ready for us and mother and Samir have agreed to keep an eye on the girls as she will not be attending the masquerade.” Henry said with a nod and a wide smile. “But the offer is greatly appreciated, Imperatrice for later tonight if possible. We… won’t be using the Midlonic tonight.”

“Quite, there was this simply dreadful wallpaper in one of our bedrooms that I’ve finally convinced Henry to get rid of, our room is quite unavailable.” Sarah chipped in with a sly grin.

“Thank you dear.” Henry rejoined.

“As it is, I am getting quite old and frail in my old age, Imperatrice D’aquisto,” She said sounding and looking at that moment anything of the sort. “So I won’t be going about the city in the cold night air wearing a mask. Besides, I get to spend time with my granddaughters which is what I enjoy the most with these visits.”

While Naiya moved to speaking to his cousins he nodded to Hillcrest and Bagnall. Both bowed slightly in return before awaiting their turn to be received patiently and quietly, assuming (due to Alex Broxtowe’s Lordship) places further down in the order of the group. Indeed they were the bottom of the large grouping.

It was quite something, and a nod to the way in which both states for all their differences were still quite similar that they had assumed, what to them all, seemed to be quite a natural order placed partially on protocol. Semphyra perhaps would do what she wanted, but then that was her perogative as Warlord.

Naiya mentioned a trip to the outback and both Sarah and Henry smiled.

“I’m sure when your children are older the consort would want to encourage them to meet the extended family, would he not?” Henry said with a beam. “Would be quite nice to visit them also, come to think.”

“Oh, yes, because your ego needs a bunch of people worshipping you as a demi-God.” Sarah replied with a soft laugh. “I’m sure Ellanor would enjoy a trip in the desert though. Not so sure about Julie.”

“I think it’s something to consider, definitely, should my cousin or Uncle agree of course.” Henry nodded. “It’s their back garden, after all.”

[The Freethinkers]

Thoughts

Cyriana looked over the kids with a smile as conversation covered them. Salene grinned, and wondered if her older sister was getting a little broody. After all, to Cyriana fell the next generation, and between Naiya’s clutch and coronation and Sarah and Henry’s kids running around chasing candy suddenly dropped the mental bombshell on her that one day she would be in exactly the same position. The fact this all went through her head without breaking that grin comforted Cyriana in her own way.

“That was a particularly interesting place. For the children’s sake we’re best not reminiscing.” That place still made her shudder. And that was after several years in the Freestian infantry, which isn't exactly a cake walk. Things happen though. “It is good to see you again, and on such an occasion.” Cyriana lifted her head up to Sarah, and the Freestians shared a Ghoul moment. “And glad to be somewhere that isn't making me and my guard be on edge all the time.”

“How is Oakland?” Sarah asked, a curious expression crossing her face.

“Gigantic and belligerent as always. He sends his regards.” Cyriana couldn't help but laugh. The bullet magnet had been, amongst other things, Sarah’s right hand in the CNIO’s last great hurrah, and now served, in a capacity, as her chief bodyguard, amongst other things. He was away today though, the mantle already shifted onto someone new. “And that he misses your spectacular generosity with alcohol. Also, if it means something to you,” she also turned to Aeturnus as well. “To say hi to Mace.” Now that was going back a few years.

Smiles all around. Salene squeezed her sister’s arm. “Speaking of the masquarade, where actually are our costumes?”

“At the embassy.” Semphyra offered, along with mine and Alex’s. It was very easy to forget that Semphyra did have a serious role here other than eye candy, despite the best efforts of her clothes to prove otherwise (Bagnall currently deliberated on the evidence provided subtly to her left). It would be easy, of course, to simply enjoy the moment, kids and coronations and whatnot, and here, after all, they were safe, so why not relax a little?

Semphyra on the other hand, did the vampire thing. That is, what she was doing was tracking event, far in excess of what the women to her right and the man to her left.

To the uninitiated, vampiric mental process were multi channeled, though not all were completely directable thought streams. One could identify three main concerns, if you would. One stream was pure instinct, the bit of Semphyra that managed the natural components of her psyche, the basic eat, fuck and fight components of her personality. Plenty would say they were dominant. Semphyra would smile and explain that the person in question had no idea. So every few seconds independently of her conscious thoughts she would be scanning the crowd, for dangers, for threats, for potential mates, and of course anything odd that her myriad sensors picked up.

Now, she did pick a lot up. Sight and sound and to a lesser extent smell were concentrated here. Through the ground, though limited by a pair of heels that could be sanctioned as weapons, she could hear the positioning of guards in the hall, and Cesare’s gentle, limped pacing even out of sight. She could sniff the cleaning products used previously, the slight traces of stress humans and ghouls produced alike, the absolute melange of perfumes (Sarah was rocking something wonderfully sweet) and the various scents that had drifted in from the other room.

But deeper senses burned. The UV and IR spectrum components she could see belied the true beauty of the flowers and the extensiveness of the security arrangements. She could see Sarah’s exasperation, Henry’s slight discomfort in the heat, the imperceptible little components of body language few could really track. But what interesting was the magic.

Semphyra’s reaction to the Defluo Schola had been from that. She could detect the power, subtle, and not entirely intuitive, but there still she could see it emanating from him, and from Naiya too. Indeed, it was hard to see what was really triggering her sense in that regard, but it was the fact that the all too human soldier actually seemed to blaze with the stuff that surprised her. That gaze lingered on him again, and Semphyra had to control the desire to ask and investigate, for rudeness was not something she would want to be known for here.

“Of course, that said, thats a few years off. I mean, dont get me wrong the desert is lovely but...” Salene offered this, and Cyriana let her glow. “There is more to the Commonwealth than the somewhat depressingly common deathworld lite people think of. I mean, there are bits of it which are positively....”

“Birchesterian.” Sarah offered.

“Western.” Salene stopped herself. The tropical colony of the Greater Kingdom could be referred to as either Birchester in and of itself or as the Western Isles, and expats and immigrants from there generally used the latter, with a mind towards independence. Salene withdrew immediately from the minor indiscretion. “Or the beaches of the south, or the northern lakes....I mean....its hard to describe how vast it is.”

“Vast enough to only count half of it as actually under our actual control.” Semphyra offered. “But still, it remains perhaps, as always, a beautiful land. And yes, many do find the inhabitants of our deserts to be beguiling and mystifying. It is a land that provides and produces mystery. After all, what good is the wild without the unknown.” Wow, that got a little poetic for her.

Broxtowe meanwhile was mostly concentrating on not staring at boobs that would not either land in him trouble with his own monarch or create an international incident. One day at a time Alex, one day at a time. In truth he still felt a little like an imposter. His position as PM had been bought as a compromise in the dying days, and though he had one election under his belt, he had changed parties and positions so often he couldn't help but wonder what he actually represented. For the monarchs around him, it was an easy thing to understand, tradition, continuation, longevity and the sovereign legitimacy that time provided. He just had the will of the people, which sounded good, but really seemed ethereal. Oh well.

“Thank you for the welcome, and glad to finally meet you both somewhere that doesn't have lava for a floor.” Christ, Luxa was insane. It was remembered fondly however. Mostly for Semphyra and her distaste of unexposed skin. “Billy boy, Georgio, I don't think I ever really explained the joys of that country...”

A moment. Hillcrest apparently didn't like Georgio even now. Bagnell probably thought it was deliberate.

“Interestingly enough, when we are finished here, there is someone I would like to introduce you to.”

[New Edom]

Broken Wings

“It never hurts to be helpful, right? Thank you Melina,” Mara said cheerfully. “Well, wasn’t that nice of her?”

“Mm.” Thomas Lalery nodded his thanks to the girl. “Well,” he said, when she was out of earshot, pausing to check out if she had a nice walk and accompanying rear, “What do you think of your prospective husband?”

Mara paused in the act of sipping her water and toyed with the straw. “I have no idea. He seems perfectly respectable. It would be nice if I had an actual man, an actual person with balls in his pants this time round.”

“I think he is that, but my impression is that he’s very Teutonic, very Prutenian in addition to that. I have it in mind to test him out a bit when he comes to New Edom; I thought a polo match.” Thomas Lalery said.

“What, me against him?” Mara said innocently.

Thomas Lalery laughed out loud, throwing his head back. “I’d love to see that! No, just to watch the Army vs. Navy.”

“Omigosh, and I’m so looking forward to that…” Mara exclaimed, her eyes widening. “But it’s so hard to know who to cheer for, you know? I mean with family on BOTH sides…but none of our family is playing…but you know…anyway about Heike.” She giggled “What a name!”

“If you don’t like him, don’t marry him. I want to genuinely see if you get along.” Thomas said more seriously, catching her eye. “Don’t let anyone, including me, pressure you into this.”

Mara looked thoughtful. “Mother dearest may differ with you.”

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Elsani City States

The lady was making the effort, so the gentleman attempted to make the conversation as smooth as possible, speaking slowly and clearly, without emphasis to make things awkward of course, in his native language. He took her hand warmly and shook It gently, a pleasant, relaxed smile evident throughout.

“A pleasure to meet you, Katherine. It has been a beautiful ceremony so far, though I admit I’m rather looking forward to later, and dressing up for the masque. Begging your pardon - I am not as well traveled as some of my peers. Devras is what I am most familiar with, but I take it you hail from one of the more friendly nations we’re associated with? “ Marius flagged down one of the servers, and took a glass of wine from the tray, gesturing to Ms Vossyr questioningly, in case she too would like some refreshment.

“I realize it is a failing on my part, but I’m afraid I’ve had my head in the books for a good deal of my career, and recent changes have made it almost impossible to get away. You’re enjoying the celebration, I hope? I for one am pleased the weather has held.”

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Soldati senza confine

Charles was met by the older, distinguished Chancellor Calabrese as he approached the Gianfigliazi Building, and government offices.

“Welcome to Devras, Signore. I know the Imperatice appreciates your attendance. I take it you wish to have an audience with her, yes? If I could just get a name and nation that I could announce, I would very much appreciate it.”

The older man seemed relaxed, but alert, taking in Charles’ suit, his posture, and other little ‘tells’ in quietly weighing and measuring. One did not get far in Dominion politics without having a sharp eye for details, and being able to read people. Thus far, he apparently found nothing amiss – or at least nothing his continued relaxed posture indicated.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Scolopendra – The Iron Dame

Naiya smiled warmly at the pair of uniformed guests, offering them a similar bow before approaching them and first offering her hand to Ipolla. “Thank you both for attendance, and for your support through difficult times, even when it may have been easier to withdraw. I too hope we can continue the tradition of working together. Hopefully, in much less turbulent times – and with less worry for our allies on the part of the Dominion.”

She turns her attention to Advisor Kraisee, her smile broadening slightly, though still close-lipped, as she’d become accustomed to when speaking to Scolopendrans, and a few others. “It’s kind of you to say, Advisor. I think we all know that when it comes to rough edges, my mother has more than a few. And has been historically rather good at bringing out the same in others. I don’t think she’s ever quite forgiven some of your citizens for having had such a ‘bad influence’ on my brother and I. You’ll have to be sure to thank them some day,” she said, offering her hand to him as well. And perhaps even going so far as to add in a subtle wink.

“In the meantime, I hope you can both enjoy the festivities. And if there is anything at all you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m hoping all our guests will be able to look back on this with fond memories, and if possible, a renewed hope for the future.”

----- ----- -----

Scolopendra – Famiglia

When her Zio Timo enters the room, Naiya stands to greet him, her smile polite, but her eyes sparkling. Once he’s saluted, she rushes forward and embraces him tightly – though careful not to dislodge any of his awards or tokens of honor in the process.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” she says first, while still close, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. She clears her throat quietly as she draws back, motioning Shorty forward to join in the more familial greetings. “Both of you. I swear, he gets more handsome and heroic every time I see him, Aunty. Please – I want you to meet Aeturnus.”

She turns back slightly and offers her hand to the tall gentleman from the desert, then looks back to the ‘Pendran pair – more nervous this time. “I couldn’t ask for anyone better, really. Mama always said not to settle. And I haven’t. Sky Marshal Bondayehr, Senior Diplomatic Officer Zinn’Yersha, if I could introduce the man I’ve chosen to spend my life with – my consort, Aeturnus Thinoculous.”

As she waited for him to join them, she added a bit more shyly. “I hope you don’t mind, Zio Timo. We named Lucian in your honor, though with a more local flavor. Timoteo. It just seemed right to me.”

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Zero-One

The strange woman managed to squick more than a few locals who ‘caught’ her drinking the decidedly odd beverage. One more bold, or rather, one deeper in his draughts, thought he might be missing out on Something Amazing, on account. When approaching the table behind which the little fountain was set up and running, he demanded to have a sample of ‘what she’s having’, just to be sure. After a polite but firm reassurance that no, he really didn’t want to, he began to make a louder fuss. At which point the gentleman manning the table shrugged, took a small cup and gathered a sample for the man, who by now was looking self-importantly smug, as if he’d gotten one over on the powers that be.

One taste however, and he was making a wobbly beeline for the closest facilities, having spit out what he could on the jacket of his unfortunate partner. The second man rolled his eyes, then requested a napkin, and began to walk off in the direction the other man had stumbled off to, muttering quietly to himself as the ‘drink’ failed to yield to his attempts.

The server behind the table simply smiled benignly and continued serving others, while assuring them that in spite of what they may think they saw, the display was, in fact, simply that. After all, who in their right mind would walk around actually drinking motor oil?

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Roania – Alessa

The messengers were of course, quiet and polite, deferring to their Imperial guests with all due respect. They bowed , and reassured the delicate woman in soft tones, so as to not disturb the little one. “Of course, your Imperial Majesty. She had indicated that she would like that, whether currently in formal audience, or later at your convenience. Should you have any difficulty locating her, any one of us, or the soldati can pass on word to help make the arrangements – unless you would like us to relay a time and place now?”

----- ----- -----

Roania – Nesar/Daria

The performer flashed the couple an understanding smile at Nesar’s comment, nodding and bowing with a flourish. “ Ah signore, sono certo che sarà in grado di fare il suo sorriso prima che la notte è attraverso. In bocca al lupo.”

The couple in the meantime, had attracted the attention of the locals, several of whom were watching the scene play out with quiet smiles, and knowing looks. They weren’t overly obvioius about it, butwho could blame them? Dominion passions ran hot, and it was reassuring in some respects, to see that others dealt with similar complexities on occasion. Not to mention, understanding well the payoff of such situations coming to a mutually satisfying conclusion.

Once Daria smiled and relaxed, it seemed her partner’s ploy had paid off well enough for now. There were a few scattered cheers – quiet, polite, with raised glasses in salute, and smiles on a number of faces. It would seem the gentleman had been forgiven, for now, of whatever transgression he’d made, and hopefully all would be well.

Their meal arrived soon after, served hot and fresh, smelling of the warmth and spices of local cuisine.

[The Elsani City States]

Now there's a distraction. The Masquerade. Musing to herself even as she answers Mr Russo with an "Of course!" And a cheerful smile. Diplomatic as ever, even if she isn't a member of the Services any longer that overwhelmingly cheerful nature is common to her kind.
Ms Vossyr would join Russo at the tables, in conversation and drink, a far cry from the state occasion. From politics and the business of national leaders, here's an opportunity for the foreigner to 'get in good' with the locals. To occupy her time until the Masquerade herself, and to shrug off some of that awkwardness she's felt since arrival.

And who knows? Perhaps even some of the bias she holds towards the Dominion by reputation.

[Soldati Senza Confini]

Soldati senza confine

Charles was met by the older, distinguished Chancellor Calabrese as he approached the Gianfigliazi Building, and government offices.

“Welcome to Devras, Signore. I know the Imperatice appreciates your attendance. I take it you wish to have an audience with her, yes? If I could just get a name and nation that I could announce, I would very much appreciate it.”

The older man seemed relaxed, but alert, taking in Charles’ suit, his posture, and other little ‘tells’ in quietly weighing and measuring. One did not get far in Dominion politics without having a sharp eye for details, and being able to read people. Thus far, he apparently found nothing amiss – or at least nothing his continued relaxed posture indicated.

"Thank you, dear sir. I did come to see the Imperatice, yes, and my name and nation? My name is Charles Treyarch and the nation is the Confinian Republic - or at least that is how we have come to be known as informally. Thank you beforehand for the care you have taken to reach me first, I certainly do appreciate the gesture" said he to the chancellor, who he did not know he was the chancellor - after all, he was as lost as he came.

Charles nevertheless remained a confident, cool pose in the face of the older man in front of him, being cautious of not being offensive - he knew that his relaxed manners, and Confinian customs may not be seen too classy per se for the event, so he was a bit more self-conscious than normal, being that this was his first audience with such a powerful heir.

He also examined the chancellor, nothing in his posture reflected nervousness or hostility, so he knew he was not dangerous and that he was treating him genuinely as a guest, so that relaxed him a little bit - although not enough to not be alert subconsciously, although his posture may say otherwise.

[Xirnium]

Jean-Thómas Naglâthirel, a handsome career diplomat possessed of some private wealth, had had a good job until the unfortunate crises of affairs which led to the Bright Republic’s exit from the geopolitical community sometimes known as the Western Atlantic. He had been ambassador to the Holy Empire of Excalbia and, before that, ambassador to Pacitalia; each important diplomatic appointments. Now he was, to his discomfit, one of the ambassadors ‘at large’; for the immediately foreseeable future, permanently resident in Närväryn, the capital of the Bright Republic, which necessarily limited one’s career options in the diplomatic service.

Having little interest in politics, trade, war or finance had never held Jean-Thómas back — he had no strong views of any kind, save perhaps regarding the Naturalist novel, and preferred spending hours at a time sketching designs for imaginary gardens or turning pretty couplets into awkward verse — nor was a knowledge of foreign cultures any great prerequisite for advancement. However, ‘domiciled in one or more embassies abroad’ was a KPI you just had to meet in your performance review.

As a kind of independent contractor, soldier of fortune or perhaps a ronin in the diplomatic service, Jean-Thómas was required to bid for the type of assignments which, for whatever reason — usually, revolutionary republican political correctness — were currently unfashionable in Närväryn. The coronation of a despot in Devras was one of these assignments. Jean-Thómas had accepted it appreciatively, trusting in a return to honourable employment in the fullness of time.

‘Jean, Jean, show me how to play this game!’

Lolabelle Xanthësynë was Jean-Thómas’s pretty mistress, and had been thrilled with her unexpectedly abrupt return to the Närväryn world of fashionable nightclubs, hotels and restaurants, dancehalls and tearooms, and cabarets. Interested in drawing and animation, black-and-white photography and, for whatever reason, silent film, she grinned delightedly at the gambling tables, tramping towards them on long, bare legs and red, high-heeled sandals.

‘It’s not a hard game to play,’ said Jean-Thómas as he let her pull him to over by her red-nailed, wrist-braceleted hand, ‘but you’d probably be better off learning trente et quarante or baccarat. The odds are better — almost evens.’

Lolabelle blinked at him. ‘I just want to play the one with the wheel,’ she whined.

‘Okay, okay, fine,’ said Jean-Thómas, smiling indulgently. ‘Just sit down, I’ll get some chips.’ He helped her to her seat.

Lolabelle waited as Jean-Thómas changed the equivalent of 20,000ƒ into thousand-florin plaques and asked to borrow the croupier’s card. She removed her powder-compact from her handbag, snapping it open to peer at her face in its uplifted mirror. Lolabelle’s hair was long and straight and dyed the pale blonde which was mod in the Bright Republic, matching a white neo-antique dress that covered her naked body in little more than a slight transparent gauze; bare breasts peaking above a ruffle-edged, off-the-shoulder neckline and bare arms. Given its lightness, she also resorted to a round, red brocade cape reaching to the elbows.

Quickly becoming bored of sitting still — Jean-Thómas and the croupier were still talking ‘guy talk’ — she turned to the woman nearby, who was getting hit on by a fairly handsome local man. Well, he was tall and dark, anyway. ‘I like your skin colour,’ Lolabelle told her during a pause in their conversation, tilting her head.

At that moment Jean-Thómas’s hand returned to Lolabelle’s arm and he showed her the croupier’s card. He glanced politely at the other woman. ‘This shows the run of the ball since the session started, right after Naiya’s coronation,’ he explained to Lolabelle.

‘Uh huh.’ She played with the straw in her glass, a tall iced drink of soda water, sugar, lime juice and gin.

‘See, roulette players will often take notice of anything of interest; for instance, sequences of more than two on a single number.’

Her mouth was slightly parted, and Jean-Thómas could detect the glint of just slightly overbiting white teeth. ‘Thirty’s come up twice this hour?’ she suggested, wrinkling her nose.

‘Yeah. That said, each turn of the wheel has absolutely no connection with the one before.’

‘Okay, now I’m just confused,’ she said, and she looked it. ‘You said!’

‘It’s just a convention, Lolly.’

Lolabelle rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t care. I want to play red,’ she whined.

Jean-Thómas took two plaques and put them beside the croupier. ‘On red, please.’

[The Elsani City States]

On the other hand, there's more than Masquerades that serve as distraction here. Ms Vossyr would nudge Mr Russo gently, indicating the overly elabourately dressed woman and her companion. "Xirniumite." She would tell him when done. She had had contact with their kind, so to speak, before, and viewed their fashion choices as the easiest indicator of their nationality. That, and the hair.
Much as her skin tone marks her out as a foreigner to those from the Dominion, to the observant there's many clues as to a Xirniumite's.
Fondness for green people aside.
"Try green, mademoiselle." To Lolabelle, just to confuse matters.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Solont

“Oh please, this old thing? Everyone is wearing them these days – at least everyone I tend to hang out with.”

Talia was grinning broadly, giggling even as Kana wrapped them both up in a hug. “Well, you know . It’s kind of a big thing. And my uncle, he knew I’d like to see what all the fuss was about. I have a few days leave before heading back out to wrap up my term. Truth is, I kind of like it.”

She linked arms with the pair, and started walking with them in the direction of the government offices. “It’s awesome you both are here! And looking good yourselves! Jimmy, you bulk up or something? I swear, you’ve gotten taller too somehow. Almost manage to look respectable here with Kana to escort,” the young woman teased.

“Word is the Chancellor is setting up the meet and greet with Naiya – the Imperatrice I suppose I should say. It’s still weird, seeing the Dread Lady step down, and someone I remember from school taking it all on. And kids! Jesus, she has twins already. But damn, Kana – you gotta see the guy she ended up hooking up with. I think everyone thought she and that Ardan prince were gonna be a thing … Poor Leo. Don’t think he stood a chance against that kind of competition. All foreign and mysterious and well, hot.”

As they got closer, the girl straightened her uniform and checked her slightly mussed hair. “The older gentleman there – that’s the Chancellor. He’ll set you up to meet. Mind if I just … tag along? I won’t be any trouble.”

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Midlonia & The Freethinkers

Naiya shook her head and smiled. Seeing the interplay between the two monarchs had always been pleasant to see – and a decided counterpoint to the example she’d had with her own mother and never-quite-stepfather. In fact, seeing such a broadly-spanning family here, across two great empires, was a point of hope for her and her own currently small family. One day, gods willing, her brother would find the right woman, and her boys would have cousins there. And who knew where life would take them from that point on? It wasn’t the plan they had originally been conceived for, no … but this life perhaps would present them both with less turmoil in the end. Perhaps.

“Well I hope that you will all be able to relax and enjoy yourselves,” she said to Cyriana, looking fairly content all in all. “I’d be a complete failure as a hostess if not. Tradition, you see. And mama would never let me hear the end of it.”

She continued her greetings, conversing back and forth as she did, attempting to answer all, and overlook none somehow in the process. She didn’t appear harried or nervous. Perhaps some might note a difference in her bearing, and chalk it up to recent motherhood, or simply all the changes of late. Others of a more sensitive inclination might chalk it up to something else entirely.

“Lord Hillcrest, Lord Bagnall – I hope you’re finding your stay a pleasant one so far. I dare say, it’s a good thing we don’t stand on this sort of formality all the time, or I think I might have run and hid rather than take on the responsibility,” Naiya teased gently, smiling at each and offering her hand.

“Whatever the case, on the idea of a safari, and wherever the location, I believe we have ample time. Thank you all again for coming, and for taking the time to see me, and Aeturnus,” she said, once more stepping back and linking an arm with his. She hadn’t missed the reference to Mace, but then it wasn’t such a ridiculous thing that many of them knew one another. There had been wars, and a number of things go on, and the Lost were a formidable force. If there were anything to it, perhaps he’d mention it later.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

New Edom

With the exit of the wandering minstrel, and salutes and quiet encouragement from the locals dying back down in reference to the couple who had appeared to be coming off an argument from earlier, things settled back, and laughter, talk, and the sounds of the background music and usual bustle of the staff prevailed. Lalery’s laugh fit right in, and got no more than a passing smile and a glance in their direction. Their own food was brought out in the same fashion as the other couple, with the usual questions of satisfaction, and checking to see if there were anything else that could be gotten for them.