Summit of North American Leaders (AMW Only)

[Wesleyopia]

McDonald walked calmly into the room, carrying his binder with him. The smell of opportunity filled his nostrils as he sat down a few seats away from the Emperor, close enough to carry a decent conversation with his host, but he didn't want to cut anyone else out of the chance of discussing matters intimately with the man.

He awaited everyone else to take their seats. He isn't the sort of man to dominate a discussion, but rather a person who is more likely to listen to everyone else and calculate his words carefully.

[Chrinthanium]

Emperor Nathaniel walked into the room confidently. His every step eluded to his current mood of extreme happiness as the apparent success of the summit thus far. In his hand he carried a briefcase, which he retrieved from his office, and as he took his seat, he opened the briefcase and removed several manilla folders. He placed them quite neatly on the table in front of him, moving his tablet to his right side for an easier reach when it came time to take notes.

As he closed the briefcase, he placed it on the floor. When he looked up, he noticed President McDonald sitting a few seats away from him. The Wesleyopian President was a quiet fellow, one unremarkable of appearance. Yet the Emperor believed that his apparent calm demeanor and introversion was something of a guise. The Emperor had a feeling that McDonald would be as shrewd a politician as he'd ever seen before and he'd be polite, yet steadfast in positions.

The Emperor reached in front of his paperwork and grabbed a coffee pot. "Mr. President, can I offer you some coffee?" Nathaniel asked as he pour his coffee. The Emperor took his coffee black, and immediately took a sip of the freshley poured delight.

An Imperial servant entered the room. A young woman with an unblemished face. Her body was tight, and her maker had blessed her with the sort of bossom that most women would die for. Upon noticing Nathaniel helping himself to coffee and offering to serve President McDonald and spoke, "Your Majesty, allow me to do that. Remember the last time you offered coffee to Mr. Latham? I'm sure he didn't appreciate that lap full of hot coffee."

The Emperor smiled and relinquished the pot. "Mr. President, this is Cynthia Porter, my personal servant. She's been in my employ since she was twenty."

"Five years of serving you, and I still haven't managed to quit. Consider yourself lucky." She quipped. The Emperor didn't subscribe to treating people he employed like workers. Everyone was a friend of his and allowed to speak their mind, no matter how much of a breach of protocol it may be.