NATION

PASSWORD

The Queen's Birthday IC

Where nations come together and discuss matters of varying degrees of importance. [In character]
User avatar
New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 23228
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

The Queen's Birthday IC

Postby New Edom » Sun May 20, 2018 1:39 pm

Warning! Possible mature content in this thread. Here is the OOC and Signup Link. Please do not post unless you have signed up, and direct any questions to the OOC thread or telegram.. Thank you.


Padan-Aran,
Bara Province, New Edom


A woman wearing a golden mask which was blank of expression and made of simple smooth metal walked down an ancient street of paving stones. Dark hair flowed behind the mask to her waist like a waterfall, dense and lush. As she moved a crimson gown embroidered with gold thread stars, feathers, flowers and fish swished around her legs with her steps. As she walked sandals slapped the ancient stones. As she walked each step made heavy breasts swing and sway under the material; wide hips swung, flesh stretched and shivered and shimmied as she moved.

Ahead of her walked four men whose faces were painted with crosses and fathers, carrying AV-94 assault rifles with bayonets fixed. Boots cracked on the ground as they marched in step. Each wore full modern battledress, and their eyes keenly scanned around her. Behind her came twelve men, naked and painted red below the waist and yellow above.Each man sweated and strained as they carried, fixed on a littler and held up by strong metal bound staves, a huge ornately carved bronze bell. On one side of this bell was a middle aged woman in filthy rags, bare bloody feet staining the stones, her face terrible with purpose, who carried a heavy iron bound stave. Now and then the woman with the golden mask lifted a delicate long fingered hand and the ragged woman would stop walking as did the litter bearers and she would strike the bell so that it made a groaning toll that made the air shiver.

Seeing this procession, shopkeepers began to close their shops up; street sweepers hastily finished their work. Van and truck drivers would pause and the drivers would get out and bow low, as did all traveling who saw the procession. Movie theaters were closed, cafes were closed, markets began to have their wares gathered up, awnings closed. A group of naked children, playing with a round black and white football all dusty from the street, paused in their game. One of the older boys sternly whispered to the others; a few nearby who were too young or excited to notice were reprimanded with fierce whispers by elders who were sitting or standing nearby.

The procession moved on. The woman had begun to sweat, and the crimson gown began to cling to the folds and curves of her voluptuous body. Her steps became more deliberate, the bearers began to grunt and strain. The ragged woman struck more fiercely. The soldiers’ make up ran down their sweating faces, but they kept marching ahead. They passed a convoy of trucks bearing bleating sheep and one from which a great clattering of huge hooves and a bellowing came. Vans were dropping off big crates and boxes full of goods at various locations. Flowers were being hung in garlands from lampposts and from store marquees.

The exhausted procession moved on, the once bountiful hair now hanging limp and heavy as the woman staggered on, sweat drenching her gown, every nook and cranny of her body stickily revealed by the soaked material. The litter bearers faltered, grimly set teeth, at a quiet word from one moved on, and the ragged woman lifted her staff. Construction workers were already wrapping up a job site, and removed their helmets out of respect as the procession passed them.

Nearby, a number of men wearing smocks and work boots had been repairing a damaged wall of a warehouse, and they had paused to bow low, putting down their tools and gear. Now they lifted their heads and immediately stopped working, started putting their tools away. “Look,” muttered one of them, “Look…”

They watched silently as the woman with the golden mask raised her mask just enough for one of the soldiers to give her a drink of water from a canteen, splashing it over her delicate hands as she lapped at the water. One of the workers moaned softly, barely heard even by his workmates, at the sight of her mouth even from meters away. The soldiers also gave water to the litter bearers and the ragged woman who had to kneel down to receive it. Her hands shook as though she’d never had water before.

It was the Queen’s Birthday at last, and all Padan knew it. Bells began to ring all over the nation, from ancient wooden bells in small mountain villages to great bronze ornately carved ones in the cathedrals of the largest cities.

The Guests

The city of Padan was an old city, with many old fashioned bungalows, villas and small apartments, a very green city full of boulevards and surrounded by farmland as well as a vast air base. The airport was small, in fact, usually you just went down a set of steps from the plane right onto the tarmac, were greeted as appropriate to your station by officials, an honour guard, or by an official greeter, and then would be led to a waiting car that would take the guest party to the Majestic Hotel.

Hairdressers, dressmakers, tailors and so on had been hired for the purpose of the birthday celebration)

There were two restaurants and a café at the hotel. One restaurant specialized in Hostillian cuisine (Count Lalery joked once ‘what’s that, a bowl of rice on a street corner?”), another in Lazodirian/central Acheronian (a lot of nice sauces, buttery flaky pastries, soups, mushrooms, wine and herb scents, crepes and so on), and the café was rather modern and international in character and quite large. You could have breakfast and lunc there and have both later in the evening if you wished.

The hotel featured a large swimming pool with diving area, a lap pool and a general pool with lounging chairs and taning areas around it, surrounded by a beautiful garden that divided it from a tennis court area. A small shopping mall and market was adjacent to the hotel and it was advised to all guests that it would be open until just the tart of the evening of the first day. It would reopen late morning the following day. You could buy clothes, chocolates, ice cream, toys, books, music, electronics, expensive cookery and kitchen ware, tobacco products and some household products there.

There were expensive suites for the monarchs or heads of government, smaller suites for the ministers or officials of state and ambassadors, and very nice hotel rooms for the other guests including staff. It was a palatial hotel, and in fact had once been a palace for a prince long ago. Now it was a grand affair with fountains and a garden near it, nicely dressed staff in maroon jackets and trousers or skirts, elegant archways and a blend of the old world and the modern. There was wifi for the rooms, a spa, hairdressers (indeed ext There were two restaurants and a café at the hotel. One restaurant specialized in Hostillian cuisine (Count Lalery joked once ‘what’s that, a bowl of rice on a street corner?”), another in Lazodirian/central Acheronian (a lot of nice sauces, buttery flaky pastries, soups, mushrooms, wine and herb scents, crepes and so on), and the café was rather modern and international in character and quite large. You could have breakfast and lunc there and have both later in the evening if you wished.

Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain, the Royal Master of Offices, as well as the personal staff of several of the senior officials or the monarchs was in the hotel itself set up with a large suite and a communications center in case he was needed. Royal Protection Service officers were infiltrated into the hotel itself while Council Police officials were in the city itself.

There was time for the guests to arrive, get themselves settled, forward him any questions or concerns. Guests were warned though that some of the senior members of the court and government were quite busy and might not be quickly available, but their staff would be as would the Master of Offices and his staff.

Many of the staff at the hotel were from the Edomite dependencies—Dengali, Peregrino, Damoclea, and so anyone used to talking the dialect of the capital province of Bara for the national Latin accent or for Baran would find themselves dealing with strongly accented but understandable people. All the senior staff of the hotel were Baran, Haranese, or Anglo-Germans.

Now and then there would be glimpses of other native Edomites—miltiary officers casually lunching at the café in their prade dress uniforms; clergy either naked and painted with crosses or in flowing robes and pectorals; well dressed Baran aristocrats in uniforms, dresses, suits languidly moving about and murmuring to one another in their excellent Latin, English or German sprinkled with the occasional Baran words. “Are you practicing your ancient Baran?” one would say to another.

“I had to get a tutor…” another would say.

There was an air of bustle and excitement at the hotel. Anyone standing on a balcony or driving with a window open, walking around outside would hear the sound of the bells. Edomites would lower their heads and eyes a moment and then continue with what they were doing when the two bells finally exchanged tolling.

The Royal Palace of Shiloam

Pumping. Thumping. Jumping.

The sun shone on the fields and on the grass around the Pavilion of the Palace as Queen Mara the First jumped and swung and swirled in the group of the younger courtly revelers. Around her the sounds of foreign music bounced and beat and thumped and pumped, as she and the others jumped and waved their arms and grooved and moved. Behind her and on both sides were relations and some of her courtiers , absorbed like herself into the music, letting it take them where it wanted, interpreted by many different wavy hand motions and frantic feet. Ahead of her and hidden by the heads of other dancers and behind his decks was the DJ, named Doctor Dread. He was a rising star in the club scene in New Edom, a Dengali with a funny accent, perpetual sunglasses and a rail thin body in a white jacket and pants and sandals.

Rafaella, the young wife of General Augrim, and Claudia Dain, daughter of the Archbishop and wife of the Ghantish nobleman Alaric Dain, were shaking up and down as the rhythms pushed through them, Mara twitching though her from crown to toe. An ecstatic smile on her face was the dead give away that her rush was coming on stronger than ever. Others...Count Max Sharra, Lieutenant Malachi Unwerth, Alexander Domris and others happily dancing around her.

Grinding. Throbbing. Pulsating.

She caught a glimpse of her husband's face as he stared sourly down at them. She had a flash of remembering their conversation earlier. He had warned her, he reminded her, that New Edom had a reputation, a good one, he argued, and that international pop stars "thank God" would not come.

But she needed this. The music was not lewd, nor were the actions. It was just fun. Her long raven hair swirled around happy oval olive tanned features, her dark large beautiful eyes wide with delight. Supple well toned limbs flexed, her curvaceous hips swayed, full bosom shook as she danced, a red spaghetti strap dress dancing and shimmying around her body.

"Fun is for fools," the King had growled. "But enjoy yourself with your brainless friends. It is, after all, your birthday."

Yes, it was. Yes it was. It was her party and she'd dance if she wanted to. She just had to blow off some steam before the festivities began, all that sitting, being the center of attention, all that ceremony.

Hopping. Bopping. Sliding. Gliding.
Last edited by New Edom on Mon May 21, 2018 12:14 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

User avatar
Rupudska
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20520
Founded: Sep 16, 2010
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Rupudska » Mon May 21, 2018 2:06 pm

Sudentor Freiherr von Richtofen International Airport, Terminal 1 Concourse B

"You are aware, Your Royal Highness, that the Bara province does not actually have mandatory nudity, correct?" asked Chancellor Erica Bachmeier as Princess Hanna was in the middle of disrobing on board the Imperial Family's Boeing 787-8 private jet - technically they had a Luftwaffe One Airbus A380 for official purposes, though for the most part that was only used in situations where the entire Imperial Family was going somewhere, retinue and all. For situations when only one or two of them were going, the 787 was called in, with the callsign Ramses-Alpha-Seven-Thousand.

Hanna disliked that callsign, purely because Egyptian names were reserved by the Karlsland Military for nuclear weapons, even if those were named after gods.

She made a deflating sort of noise, like a groaning dog, but continued anyway. "I've told you to call me Hanna, Erica. And I've been to nude beaches before, one, and two, if Ambassador Streib can handle nudity for the months she's been over there, then you, me, and Admiral Franz certainly can for four days."

Cancellor Bachmeier joined her in undressing as Admiral Franz boarded the plane, saw them, shrugged, and wandered towards the back to change into a more Edom-friendly attire.

"Besides, I have my reasons for having us do this."

"You do, do you?"

"Yes, four. Firstly, a birthday celebration hundreds of miles from Karlsland will help keep my mind off of... what happened in May. Second, I already told Admiral Franz that nudity was mandatory across all of New Edom without a license that's a pain to get, and that's technically true and none of us have one yet. Third, our embassy with Edom isn't that old, and I want to make a good impression on them, since this is the first official visit by anyone higher-up than the Foreign Affairs Minister. And fourth... okay, to be honest, I want to get New Edom involved in the war."

Bachmeier raised an eyebrow. "We have the Austrians, the Allaneans, the Japanese, and the Imeriatans all on board. Do we really need more allies for this, with how far behind us these 'Saderans' as they call themselves are technologically? Wouldn't that be overkill, Your Roya-er, Hanna?"

"That's just the problem," Hanna said. "It is overkill, and as pissed off as I am that they took Clara, I see no reason we should go in like Liberion and smash everything in sight before setting them up in our own image. From what the reports have said, this Sadera can have the institution of slavery removed and our modern morals in war and peace without completely destroying it. You know how our allies are - once slavery is involved the Allaneans treat everyone from the peasant to the king as guilty until proven innocent, the Imeriatans proselytize their 'superior' culture at the slightest provocation, and let's not get started on the Japanese's loose interpretations of the rules of war."

"That's fair, but why New Edom?"

"They're a sizable power, but not too closely allied with anyone we're working with to my knowledge, so they'll be impartial. True, they have some rather odd opinions on sexuality, but that's because they've been repeatedly attacked by a LGBT-supremacist terrorist group, and either way no-one cares about that on the battlefield. We'll burn that bridge when we get to it, hopefully during the hearts-and-minds part of Spartacus."

By this time, all three had finished changing, as evidenced by Admiral Franz's arrival to both the lounge room and the conversation.

"Edom has a lot on their plate as it is, last I checked." To this statement, Hanna shrugged.

"I don't need many, just enough to keep an eye on the Allaneans and Japanese. And the Japanese aren't sending many to begin with, and the Allaneans can be convinced to respect the rules of war easily enough."

A ding resounding throughout the cockpit informed them that it was time to take their seats, as the plane was taking off.
The Holy Roman Empire of Karlsland (MT/FanT & FT/FanT)
THE Strike Witches NationState
Best thread ever.|Ace Combat!
MT Factbook/FT Factbook|Embassy|Q&A
On Karlsland Witch Doctrine:
Hladgos wrote:Scantly clad women, more like tanks
seem to be blowing up everyones banks
with airstrikes from girls with wings to their knees
which show a bit more than just their panties

Questers wrote:
Rupudska wrote:So do you fight with AK-47s or something even more primitive? Since I doubt any economy could reasonably sustain itself that way.
Presumably they use advanced technology like STRIKE WITCHES

User avatar
Vionna-Frankenlisch
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1810
Founded: Jun 21, 2014
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Vionna-Frankenlisch » Mon May 21, 2018 2:22 pm

Lord August Overton

"I think I'll take the regimental links today, Jasper." The words came through as a suggestion but the old valet knew they were a sure order. He lifted a pair of cufflinks from a black wooden box lined with purple velvet and brought them to his master. They were emblazoned with the crest of the Royal Agrean Regiment, a depiction of the Templum of Kings bound with royal wreaths. Jasper affixed them to his master's cuffs attentively and attended to the intricacies of Lord Overton's current dress before bringing his black tie and dark velvet suit jacket and diligently dressing Lord Overton further.

August stood through the affair in calm silence before being turned sharply by Jasper to the mirror to his right to look himself over. "Very good, Jasper." He affirmed with a smile, turning to his valet, "Very good indeed. Could you please ask Hannah if any messages have come for me while I finish up here?"

"Very good, my lord," Jasper replied dutifully, bowing his head before leaving the room. August sighed once Jasper had closed the door behind him, such circumstance, changing for every occasion was not a common thing in his native Ceasia and even the Emperor was quite happy to dress himself. August had grown accustomed to the ways of the Vionna-Frankenlischian nobility over the past few years, even so, he wasn't used to being dressed almost entirely by another man. Jasper was a dutiful man though, thoroughly satisfactory in his work and had a keen eye for detail, nonetheless August thought he might be more comfortable on his own; not that he'd ever admit that to Jasper or anyone else for that matter.

"Just one, my lord," Jasper informed Lord Overton upon reentering the room, "From Lord Spears, it reads, 'Going out for a bit of lunch, taking my time to explore the place, please call if needed.'"

"Nothing else?" August asked.

"Nothing else, my lord," Jasper replied. "You had ought to get some lunch yourself, my lord," he informed his master respectfully, "Shall I have something sent up?"

"No. Thank you, Jasper. I should like to speak to one of our Edomite hosts. Is there any chance you could bring one in to see me?"

"I'll take a message, my lord, but I can't answer for the gentlemen. I'll leave a request with the staff to send someone suitable for you. Now, my lord, I insist that you eat, you've had nothing since yesterday noon."

"Very well, Jasper, send us up some vittles."

Princess Alice Turrell von Junger

Alice and Elena had been left largely to their own devices, whether due to the negligence of their countrymen or down to the perceived safety of the modern world, even to two royal princesses, they had been allowed to roam free unchecked. Alice, despite being the younger of the pair, had acted with a sense not of superiority but of responsibility possibly due to her title. The Freigräfin von Junger had led her older cousin through the nearby streets but eventually had returned to the hotel upon purchasing some pipe tobacco from the mall and headed to the cafe for coffee.

They paid for their drinks and settled down at a table for two and began conversing, Elena rather excitedly showing off some Germanan she'd learned on the trip to New Edom. Alice responded happily, explaining mistakes and praising successes. She had had lessons in Germanan since receiving her title from Kaiser Otto but had yet to grasp the greater complexities of the language. The pair returned to the Common Language quickly and moved into a discussion about the upcoming entertainments. "I hear they're presenting a little film on humanitarian affairs," Elena said.

"Indeed. And Prince Lucas of Ghant is performing guitar for forty five minutes." Alice replied, rolling her eyes, "I don't know what we're doing aside from the band, of course. I saw the other fellows on the plane over but I've no idea what they're doing..."

"Dear Alice, don't you recognise them?" Elena put on a mocking tone of shock, "That's the Royal Frankenlisch Corps of Performers. They're coming to perform a musical. And I'm sure you know which one..."

"Der Weltkrieg?" Alice asked, jauntily tilting her head to the right.

"Better than that..."

"You can't be-"

"I am serious. They're performing Act 3 of Sunset over Filantropolis." Elena exclaimed excitedly, "And Andrew Ieling is playing Prince Andrei!"

The pair revelled in the very idea of the upcoming festivities and moved to tea after a few cups of coffee which they drank more elegantly. As the time dwindled away they decided to explore the outside areas of the hotel, first taking a stroll through the wonderful gardens, remembering not to be surprised by the occasional naked Edomite before arriving at the tennis courts. Here they sat down for a time and lit up pipes. Whilst other female nobles and royals would be wearing dresses almost all of the time, Vionna-Frankenlischian customs, moreso for the truly upper class, were more lenient. Tweed double-breasted jackets and tight white linen trousers with long black boots were not customary but perfectly acceptable and coming more into style for younger noblewomen, especially those entering their first or second season at court. Elena would soon enter her third but this did not disqualify her in the slightest.

Cherry infused tobacco smoke wafted from the small pipes until it was considered high time to stop. Time was dragging on, of course, and the pair meant to find Lord Spears before he got ahead of himself, they quickly freshened themselves up and went out searching for him, leaving a small note at the hotel's reception and another at their rooms as to their whereabouts before heading out to find the young Earl.
New Edom wrote:Unwerth laughed. “Such hen lobsters are the Vionnans. But then, every Vionnan is half a sodomite."


Domestic Marshal of the ♔♚IMPERION COALITION♚♔
Commissar of Revolutionary Action of the INTERNATIONAL SOCIALIST CONGRESS

Embassy Service - iiWiki

User avatar
The Shrailleeni Empire
Minister
 
Posts: 2755
Founded: Oct 06, 2011
Mother Knows Best State

Postby The Shrailleeni Empire » Mon May 21, 2018 3:30 pm

The Majestic Hotel, Padan,
The Allied States of New Edom


The tolling of the bells brought forward memories of the last time that he had been in the city of Padan, for the birthday celebration of New Edom's male ruling monarch. At that time he had stood on the balcony of a different hotel, seeing the ancient Edomite city for the first time and taking in his impressions of it. He had compared its similarities and differences to cities from his home country, contemplating the close and often strange history that Shrailleen and New Edom shared. Now he found himself more comparing that time to this one, seeing which parts of his memory held true and what small surprises a different perspective could offer.

He knew that New Edom was a nation of tradition, and that certainly seemed to hold true. The ringing bells which the natives met with small reverence were the same. Doubtless the nude, masked procession had now completed its journey. The atmosphere of the hotel was one of a familiar excitement and anticipation, the kind that preceded any great occasion. The smells of central and northern Acheron wafted lightly from the restaurants below, mingling with the smells of the city. Up here the air was much cleaner than near the ground, even there it seemed more clear than any urban space in the Shrailleeni Empire. The benefits of being an ancient farming community he supposed, not yet spoiled by rapid industrial development. No doubt this was part of the reason that the royal celebrations were held here.

Regional tensions were not as high today as they had been during the king's birthday celebrations. However, no festivity led by the heads of state of a major regional power could be devoid of politics. This was simply part of the life lived by those with power, where moments of peace were rare amid a montage of duty and ceremony. Her Enlightened Majesty had required no convincing to attend this time, in fact she had anticipated the occasion and made the preparations herself. It was an opportunity to discuss matters of high confidence personally with their oldest ally, and to further ingratiate herself to Queen Mara who, while utterly lacking in the abilities of a stateswoman, had apparently gained some manner of sway in the New Edomite court, if rumors were to be believed.

The question had been what would likely be discussed. The war in Ceti had not been the disaster that he had feared during the king's birthday, but had ended rather swiftly due to regional intervention. The war in Gavinium, for all the charade and posturing, was little more than a side act, King Lucian could not hope to remain in power much longer with no allies and every power in the region set against him. If anything, it would be the situation in Deadora that would likely draw the attention of King Elijah this time.

A knock at the door interrupted his rumination, and he smiled. Last time, the Shrailleeni ambassador had surprised him with a visit that he been extremely pleasant, and it appeared that history was repeating itself. He moved from the balcony to the door promptly, composing himself, and opened it.

To his shock, his visitor was another, quite different, surprise.

"Your Highness," he bowed, covering his bewilderment with courtesy. "You honor me with your visit. How may I serve you?"

"Foreign Minister," Aryni said flatly. "May I speak with you a moment?"

"Of course, I am at your disposal," he said gesturing her inside. "Our honorable hosts have provided a most well-stocked suite, may I serve you anything?"

"Thank you, but that is not necessary," the heir to the Mother Empress said, her tone quite flat. Despite the cold indifference that she always displayed on her features when near him, he thought that she looked as beautiful as ever. She bore a strong resemblance to portraits of her mother from her younger years, her green eyes bright and attentive and her dark skin unmarred by blemish. Her face had strong but elegant lines, angular, with a small but pointed nose. Her long black hair was swept back to fall strait behind her, and she wore intricately designed robes of state whose black silk embroidery depicted clusters of feathers and images of proud eagles. Sometimes he could remember how beautiful her smile was, but he had not seen it for many years now.

"Then please have a seat if you so desire," he said, following her into the room. He was always very pleasant with her, though he knew that she despised him. He simply pretended not to notice, but he knew that she wouldn't be here for any mere social call.

"I will stand for now, thank you Foreign Minister."

"As you wish," he bowed, and remained standing as well.

"Her Enlightened Majesty is settling in quite well," she continued by way of explanation. "I believe that she feels my father's absence strongly this evening. We have been discussing the coming events in minute detail."

"I am glad to hear this," Zattem replied, feeling that he should speak. "Her Enlightened Majesty has always had a clear and sharp mind for the dance of ceremony and politics."

"Yes she has," Aryni replied, and then trailed off. This entire time, though they were facing one another, she had not looked him. This was odd, as she usually seemed to enjoy forcing his own gaze down in respect by attempting to meet his eye. Now she remained silent for an uncharacteristic time, and as he waited patiently he found himself intrigued by this moment.

Finally, she spoke again. "I do not think that we should be here."

Ah, he thought. This. Suddenly her visit made sense. He wondered if she was looking for a fight, the fight that she could never have with her mother. So she came to him. He felt a twinge in his shoulder, remembering the last time that they had fought.

"Her Enlightened Majesty disagrees," he responded simply, a safe answer.

"Indeed she does. And that is your doing, is it not?" Now she lay those bright green eyes upon his face, and he dutifully turned his downward.

"Your Highness," he began carefully, "I merely advice Her Enlightened Majesty on matters of foreign affairs. She has rejected as much of my advice as she has accepted. She is a wise and honorable leader, and she makes all decisions only after weighing them in her own heart."

To her credit, Aryni actually let him finish before snapping at him. "You think that I do not know that? But we both know that my mother is only human, and she grows older. Her heart has turned inward as of late, to the realm of the spiritual, while toward this world she becomes prone to suggestion. My mother's reign has been one of the greatest periods of change and innovation that Shrailleen has ever seen, but only now does she begin to defy our oldest and most sacred traditions."

"I confess Your Highness that I do not know of which traditions you refer."

Her lips tightened. "Where are we right now, Zattem?"

The use of his personal name changed the tone of the conversation. He dared not respond in kind.

"We are in Padan, in the Bara province of New Edom," he said matter-of-factly.

"Exactly. Helladria. Padan. Gloria Regis. The Mother Empress has been traveling quite a lot lately, wouldn't you say?"

"Her Enlightened Majesty has been both bold and wise. Every journey that she has made outside of the empire has made us stronger. Forged peace, gained influence-"

"-humanized her, would you say?"

"Well, I suppose that would depend much on perspective."

"Indeed it would," Aryni said dismissively. "But the Mother Empress is supposed to be more than human. She is the soul of the Shrailleeni nation. In all of the wars that we have fought across our history, all of the foreigners that we have dealt with, my foremothers stood at the heart of our empire as immovable pillars, presenting to the outside world the untouchable unity and strength of the Enlightened Matriarchy. A facsimile of the Mother Goddess on earth."

"And has Her Enlightened Majesty not continued to do so?"

"Today, she coached me on tomorrow's dinner celebrations. Apparently the Edomites sacrifice a large hairy beast of some sort in their ritual. It can turn the stomach, I was told."

She glowered.

"Tell me, does the Mother of All fall ill to influences of the flesh?"

"I do not believe that I can offer a response to that question."

"You have my permission to blaspheme if you wish."

"I would not dream of it Your Highness."

"We both know that you are such an imaginative man."

"Alright," Zattem said finally, feeling an angry heat rising up to his cheeks. "Your Highness. And what would you propose then? The Mother Empress sequester herself in the Imperial Palace like the family Resyanna has done for dozens of generations? Hide from a world from which there is no longer any hiding? Become like Hostillia, pristine ruler of a land in which the rule of the sovereign means nothing?"

"Yes, exactly that," she replied icily. "My Mother brought our land out of decades of decline and into a new age. I admire no one in Creation as much as her for what she has accomplished. But for Shrailleen to be not only strong, but powerful, we must not lose our traditions. Traditions such as not lowering ourselves to journey to foreign lands, justifying our actions to those whom they are no concern."

Zattem was a little shaken. Not by her words, but by how brazenly she spoke them. If the New Edomites were wise, they would have ears in many places.

He wanted to strike back, to tell her that the modern world had no place or respect for such superstitions and theatrics any longer. But something was wrong, there was some other thing that she was concealing behind this dogma. He took a deep breath.

"Forgive me Your Highness, but why have you come to me with this?"

A quiet answered him, deafening in the wake of the moderately worded but emotional exchange of before.

"To let you know what I think of this, I suppose," she said softly. That shook him more than anything she had said so far.

He did not dare speak.

"I have been contemplating what you said, on that day at the start of the rains," she continued. His mind too went back to that day, their encounter in his office. The happiness turned to fear. Then anger. Then sadness. "That perhaps each of us is a reflection of her, in some way. I do think that things like this are weakening the empire. But I was thinking that..." her gaze upon him softened, and the tone of her voice shifted "...maybe there is room for..."

He looked up, and met her eyes. Just for a instant. There was something there that he had not seen since...

There was another knock at the door.

They both looked at the door, and the moment was broken.

"I will tell them to go away," he offered, moving toward the door, but she signaled a negative response.

"I should return to my mother. I do thank you for your time though, Foreign Minister."

He opened the door, and there stood Ambassador Katara Telta fe Vangarra. As was her custom in New Edom she wore only a distinctly Railtic-themed body paint. She was only a few years younger than Zattem and Aryni, a little tall by island standards and slender of build. She wore a small hint of a smile as he answered, a slip in decorum that she had doubtless thought only they would share. It dropped away instantly as she saw Aryni standing not far from the door. At this moment, he wished more dearly than anything that she had not chosen to visit him tonight.

She bowed, deeply, to the Crown Princess. "Your Highness, it is a great honor to be in your presence."

"The honor is mine to receive our most proficient ambassador," Aryni replied, and Zattem nearly winced. She had seen the smile.

"I would not disturb you Your Highness, I will return another time..."

"That is not necessary," Aryni said, nodding her head to the ambassador as she exited. "I am returning to Her Enlightened Majesty. May the Goddess grant you a pleasant evening. And Foreign Minister," she said offhandedly, not turning to him. "Thank you for your advice. I look forward to observing this ceremony tomorrow."

"The honor is mine to serve you, Your Highness," he said with a bow, but he did so at her retreating figure.

When she had turned the corner, Katara spoke quietly. "Is now a good time?" she asked softly.

His turned his gaze away from the hotel hallway and toward the ambassador.

"I can think of none better. Please, enter."




Her Enlightened Majesty the Mother Empress Chella Resyanna fe Shrailleen looked up from her reading as the door to her hotel suite opened, putting away the corrective lenses that she now wore more and more for printed words. She was unaccustomed to not having Imperial Guards standing at every entrance and corner of her room, watching over her safety so constantly that they could be taken for granted. But the New Edomites were handling security at this event, and she took it upon herself to rest her safety in their hands. It was an expression of trust, especially in these times. Shrailleeni Intelligence did not believe that Lucian’s threats to assassinate regional leaders were credible, but her personal philosophy was that if someone wanted you dead then they would find a way. And if you were a ruler, then someone would always want you dead.

But it was only her daughter, returning from wherever she had gone for her walk. She had said that she wished to explore the hotel, but that did not sound like her Aryni at all. Since she had reached her womanhood the dutiful but precocious child that she had raised had become a strong and reserved young woman, who preferred to keep her thoughts to herself until emotion forced her to reveal them. Indeed though her eldest tried to hide it from her, Chella could tell that something had upset her. And when something upset Aryni that something was almost always Zattem Resbruck.

Chella had tried everything that she could think of to break her daughter’s fascination with that man. Looking back, she could now admit that her impact on that relationship had been one of her greatest failures as both a ruler and a mother. But despite her frustrations she wanted them to learn to work with one another. That young man was truly gifted at understanding the foreign mind, and her daughter was her most adept pupil in the realm of Shrailleeni statecraft. If they could not work together, then the future of the empire would be that much less secure. Then again, should the worst come true, Zattem could be replaced. Her daughter could not.

Putting aside these troubling thoughts for the time being, she marked her place in her book and closed it. It was a book of poetry by one of the great Fromathrine mystics, and she found its timeless insights comforting in this modern age.

“Greetings my child,” she said warmly, “I hope that you found our accommodations to your liking?”

“Greetings my mother. Yes, but it is all very strange to me,” she said. Chella did not mind if her daughter refrained from telling her the truth, so long as she had the courtesy not to lie outright.

“You have journeyed to New Edom before have you not?”

“Yes,” Aryni said, moving from the door toward the sitting area of the suite with unhurried steps. “But that was Fineberg, the capitol. In many ways it is a much different place than this.”

“I see,” Chella said musingly. “I would not know. I have only ever seen this part of New Edom. I find it pleasant enough though.”

“It is pleasant in a quaint way,” her daughter agreed, sitting down. She did not quite meet Chella’s eye, but the Mother Empress decided not to pry. Her daughter was a grown woman, she could handle whatever was bothering her with the grace that a Shrailleeni royal commanded at all times. She had seen her do it before, and knew that she would do so again. She never had to worry about her children acting dishonorably, and for that she thanked the Goddess.

“Have many other delegations arrived?” Chella tested passively.

“I suppose that they must have, though I saw no one of note.”

“That is for the best. We will let the Foreign Minister handle any foreigners who wish to deal in politics for the celebrations. Our primary business is with King Elijah and Queen Mara.”

"Yes, mother," she replied dutifully, but there was something that she was keeping back. Chella thought about pushing the issue, but in the end decided that a night of peace was preferable so long as Aryni was comfortable in her silence.

Finally, her daughter spoke again, only to say, "I feel tired from traveling mother, I think that I shall retire for the evening."

"Very well daughter. May the Goddess grant you rest."

"And you as well my mother."

And with that she rose gracefully, gliding across the floor to one of the suite's bedrooms. She closed the door softly, and the light went out.

Chella's eyes lingered on the door for a few moments more, and then turned back to her book. There was a passage, written in its native Fromathrine in which she was fluent, which she was contemplating. It was about one of the last great Fromathrine kings, who had fought the Shrailleeni many centuries ago. It read:

The world was his while he remained alive,

He showed men how to prosper and to thrive:

But all this world is like a tale we hear—

Men's evil, and their glory, disappear.


What would the legacy of her reign be? What would her achievements amount to after her death? Would she be remembered as the savior of Shrailleen, or its unwitting destroyer? Or would all that she had done disappear into the ether of history?

Eventually, she too retired to her chamber, to await the dawn of the next day.
أدرس اللغة العربية وهي لغة جميلة
Mother of One, Mother of All
Ask Me Anything IC
Come to the Mother's Embrace
New Edom wrote:Elizabeth Salt remarked, "It's amazing, isn't it, you rarely see modern troops that wear their 19th century uniforms and gear so well--they must drill all the time. Is this a guards outfit?"

Sif said to her, "This is a modern Shrailleeni Empire military parade. Like as in this is what they wear, this is what they use. This is it."

User avatar
Ilha das Tempestades
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 176
Founded: Jul 07, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Ilha das Tempestades » Mon May 21, 2018 4:44 pm

Tempie people didn't travel abroad much and they usually didn't travel to nations that might be considered unfriendly. In fact is was nearly impossible for the average citizen to travel abroad. Only a handful of places like the AHSCA Isles were really allowed. Valenzuela was a tyrant no doubt but to her people she was also divinely ordained and saved them from a exploitative monarch regime years ago. But that was then, this is now. People who did travel often were dancers, not just any dancers really, but those who were able to summon storms with their dances for the heavens. Or so legends claimed, circumstantial evidence suggested it worked but in IDT rainfall was so common a more logical person would believe it was simply good timing or maybe a little theatrics. Well their dance they'd be delivering would be the same moves and same quick actions that are a tad on the provocative side. Being New Edom was a devoutly Christian nation they weren't sure how much they'd have to tone down, granted it was hardly anything explicit. Nothing like a seedy nightclub of exotic dancers, a traditional belly dance seen in desert nations of Arabian and Persian origin. How it came to be on a tropical island is anyone's guess.

This troupe was one of the nation's most well known trio of dancers, Amala a widowed mother of one and a farmer mostly but dancing was her first passion before falling for a rugged farm boy and giving birth to their son. In the hotel she was busy practicing her steps given she didn't always have practice time chasing a toddler and working a farm she always had to squeeze in when she could. It was tough without music, which she had to provide in her own head but they didn't want to disturb other guests. Nela was a beach blonde her hair in girlish twin tails which contrasted her dark skin. She was keeping time for Amala. Rounding out the troop was the oldest of the two, Rosana, her hair brown hair tied in twin braids at the front with the rest flowing out. Inspecting their outfits making sure there wasn't a thread out of place. Not apart of their troupe but a valuable person indeed was Ysabel, their fearless sea captain who guided them over the turbulent waters to make it hear to New Edom. She was a very well endowed woman to say the least, fiery read hair to match her spirit and a bit of her temper. Dancing not her strong suit, sailing was but her connection with the group was personal enough she was always willing to take them wherever they may need.

"Okay side step, one two one two." Amala was doing well but she ended up missing a step or two. "Ah sorry."

"Oh you're doing okay just hard to practice without music." Nela replied getting her adjusted a little by working a couple steps with her.

"Geez just put some on, already." Ysabel moaned "Honestly can't believe it's so hard."

"You're welcome to try." Amala cheerfully replied, she knew Ysabel just didn't get how the dance was. "We can't bother the many guests who are here. This isn't a dance hall." Amala replied then practiced a twirl, almost like a ballet dancer or ice skater might do.

"Look, ya aint working to bring about rain or nothin' so don't put so much thought into it. Just improvise a little. Like the moves you practiced along the way here. Never seen anyone motion with the boat so well."

Rosana spoke up next, "She has a point, this is a very informal dance not an official ceremony so might have more room to improve."

"I don't think a ruling lady's birthday should be considered, informal." Amala replied still working her various steps "Sure this isn't a blessing but we have come all this way, the least we can do is show the Queen the true spirit of the dance." Amala always took things very seriously. Not that their work as dancers wasn't serious in the eyes of their countrymen it's just that whether for a visitor or for the blessing of their own religion, it was important to always put on a good performance. "Queens, tch" Ysabel muttered with disdain, as if their current dictator, Valenzuela was any better. Amala wasn't concerned with the politics though, she would dance for anyone who'd ask for it and she'd give the performance of her life, people often say dancing is her first true love.

"Well at least we're getting paid," Ysabel continued "that's what I care about, otherwise I wouldn't be here." Well that wasn't entirely true, besides the idea of coming this far for a bit of extra cash, she did really like Amala, a lot. She was her polar opposite in personality but she couldn't help but feel a spark with her. If she could figure how to really broach it one day maybe she would.

"Amala takes dance seriously the way you take sailing seriously." Rosana replied finishing the touches on their costumes.

"Have to be, we're from the island of storms! It's how I got us here safe and sound. Speaking of, just doesn't feel right without a little ambience of home, we can at least put that on can't we?"

"All right, that'll be fine. Remember not too loud we must be curtious." Amala agreed

"Hey look on the bright side, New Edom is probably just as open about nudity here as we are at home!" Nela said "We could do this dance naked probably."

"Ah we better not push our luck on that." Amala gave a nervous chuckle. "Besides the outfits give extra for the eyes to see." They were quite colorful indeed and they showed just as much skin. Sometime the illusion or the tease is just as good. Rosana finished her checks. "Well everything looks good we should be all set but we have time. What do you say we do?"

"Well I could use a break," Amala admitted though she felt like she needed more practice time she probably was okay; just needed a refresher and she'd do fine. "Let's get dressed and go out."

"Ah you three go on ahead" Ysabel said "I'm gonna veg a bit."

"Suit yourself." Amala agreed "Maybe get some sleep too, it hasn't been an easy trip on you either."

"Thanks, I will." She agreed without argument protest or sarcasm in her voice. the three dressed very casually and simple nothing to much. Might as well take in a few sights while here. "Hey, Amala, you're not in financial straights again, like the time you went all the way to The Selkie?" Nela asked her. "Oh no, not at all this time. Actually, probably one of the best seasons I've had I felt a need to get back to dancing a little more often. I should have enough to last a good while before I need to plant new crops or raise more animals."

"Remember you can always come to us if you need help with anything, we are friends after all." Rosana assured her as they exited onto the streets. "Ah I know, and there's also Ysabel too. Don't worry we're just fine."

"Speaking of, who is caring for Bellow while you're here?" Nela asked

"His grandmother, my mama." Amala replied.

"Wow all the way in the AHSCA huh? You must have sent him on ahead." Nela said in surprise.

"I wish I could have dropped him off myself but Ysabel insisted we plot our course straight to New Edom and not make stops otherwise we might not have made it on time. I made sure though she'd send him on a ship home as soon as we'd be leaving New Edom so I'd be there in time to meet him.

"Given the weather that's usually in the south seas, she has the right idea. Sounds like you got it plotted well too."

"That's why she's our captain!"

User avatar
Hittanryan
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9060
Founded: Mar 10, 2011
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Hittanryan » Mon May 21, 2018 4:52 pm

National Assembly
New Laconia, Adiron


The hearing room for the Assembly Select Committee on the Arvo Nation looked somewhat similar to a courtroom. There was a gallery close to the door, a pair of desks front and center, and instead of a judge and jury seating for the MAs who would ask the questions and listen to testimony.

On the stand today was Raka “Edward” Uskuld. He was the child of Arvo immigrants, educated in Adiron when he moved as a teenager and studying law for indigenous groups. Ironically his parents had been cast out of their clan and disowned by their family for leaving their people, but Edward had a perhaps unhealthy fascination with his heritage. Now the Arvo Nation reluctantly turned to him and other tribal advocates to lodge their grievances with the way Adiron and New Edom were conducting operations in Arcologia. It was unlikely any Arvo elders considered Uskuld a real Arvo anymore, but they needed him for now, and he felt he was taking a noble stand for human rights.

The Committee was made up of five MAs, the three seniormost of which were James Cole, Derek Schultz, and Charles Cook. Schultz and Cole were both Social Democrats, but Schultz caucused with the left and Cole had made an unsuccessful bid for the party leadership and presidency as a defense hawk. Cook was a Liberal who had famously helped broker the peace deal with the Imperium through New Edom. All were rather conventional middle-aged men, while Uskuld didn’t wear a tie.

The Committee has been in session for some time and Schultz tried to move onto a central issue. “I think we’ve established that it would not be wise, let alone humane, to simply leave civilians to starve. It is not the relocations, it’s the conditions in the camps that are the problem. We’ve gone over Adiran policy for evacuated Arvo civilians. What I would like to hear, for the record, is the Arvo’s chief objection to Edomite policy.”

Uskuld spoke in a clear voice. Although he had a slight accent and his rhythm was a bit off at times, he enunciated very deliberately. “The Edomites do not hide their contempt for our people. They seek to coerce us to give up our culture, our beliefs, make us Edomite subjects who speak like them, dress like them, worship their king and the Christian god. They seem to want our women for themselves. They want the Arvo to cease and become Edomites. That is ethnic cleansing.”

“That is a grave accusation,” Chairman Cole pointed out.

“One which we hope is not true, but cannot confirm or deny either way due to the continued denial of access to the camps,” Uskuld said.

Schultz piped up now. “Yes, Adiran journalists have also tried and failed to gain access to the camps. The secrecy is why suspicions remain high.”

“Exactly, Assemblyman,” Uskuld said to Schultz. “There must be greater transparency. We must have access to the prison camps, unscheduled preferably.”

“Why unscheduled, Mr. Uskuld?” Cook asked.

“To keep them honest, so that they will not simply erect a façade prior to our arrival. They must not have a chance to deceive inspectors. We must see the real camps, as they are. We must know what has happened to our families,” Uskuld said.

“You really don’t trust them at all then,” Cook pointed out.

“Although I agree with the sentiment, Mr. Uskuld, there are likely to be security concerns about unfettered access to a camp,” Schultz pointed out. “I would suggest instead that the camps be inspected regularly. It wouldn’t make sense for them to be constantly putting up and tearing down a Potemkin Village every other week. It would ensure acceptable conditions at least to some extent.”

Uskuld looked thoughtful but nodded slowly. “Or perhaps we post one of our people in each camp permanently, with the understanding that camp personnel would cooperate.”

“That will need to be discussed. So far I’m generally with you, I’d like to see the camps myself,” Cole said. “Earlier though you said you had something else to present to us.”

“We have compiled, through family and clan elders, a list of just over a thousand individuals who we know to have been in the Lesser Diols before they were conquered by the Edomites. They are women and children likely to be in custody if they are still alive. We want meetings with these individuals on neutral ground to further confirm the truth of their living conditions.”

“There have been civilian casualties in this campaign,” Cook pointed out, holding a hand up. “Suppose they don’t find the people on this list?”

“Then we will have different questions, Assemblyman,” Uskuld said rather coldly. “For instance, let’s say it is claimed none on the list still live. We will want to know what kind of military campaign did the Edomites really wage if so few civilians survived? It would also cast doubt on the camp conditions. Or if they claim these people cannot be located, how poor must the Edomites’ records be? And if that’s the case how can we be sure the entire camp system is not being neglected in terms of logistics?”

Schultz glanced at the others and said “I think the Committee needs to know what’s really going on in order to fulfill our mandate. I think we need to propose Mr. Uskuld’s requests for transparency to the Commission.”

“Pull back the veil, I agree,” Cook said. “There will be no progress as long as mistrust and uncertainty taint relations between the Arvo and the Edomites.”

“Agreed,” Cole said bluntly. “We will need to discuss under what terms this will take place with our Edomite counterparts. In the meantime, Mr. Uskuld, I have some questions for you.”

“Of course, Assemblyman,” Uskuld said, looking generally pleased.

“You have been on record calling the Adiran Rangers’ operations in Arcologia disproportionate. In an article you wrote that it bordered on a new Cetan imperialism,” Cole quoted him.

Uskuld looked surprised. “Er, humbly I was co-author of that piece. Not my words, Mr. Cole.”

“But you do hope for a withdrawal of Adiran forces from the area?”

“Yes, I do. If I may clarify, I don’t condone the Virden attack either, I just don’t think it was proportionate to launch an outright invasion of Arvo lands in response,” he clarified, spreading his hands.

“Mr. Uskuld, the Rangers in Arcologia are carrying out a rescue operation. We’ve attempted negotiations for the release of captives but for some reason the Arvo leadership won’t negotiate. Why is that? For what purpose were the civilians of Virden taken?” The room had gone rather still by now.

“Assemblyman, I do not know. The clan leaders I have spoken to know nothing of the planning of that,” Uskuld said firmly.

“I didn’t say they did, Mr. Uskuld. I am asking you if you have knowledge of what became of the captives after they were moved to Arvo territory.”

“Assemblyman, I do not know to a certainty,” he replied.

“The reason I ask is because I think the treatment of prisoners is an important point not just in this conflict but in general. For your people and mine. I would like you to confirm or deny the contents of this Department of War report. Do you think you can do that as a representative of your people?” Cole said, reaching for his glasses.

“I can try, Assemblyman,” Uskuld said, watching him warily.

Cole read dispassionately and methodically. “Civilian captives from Virden were without exception pressed into slavery. Can you confirm or deny this?”

Uskuld raised his eyebrows. The reporters sat up in their seats. Schultz scribbled something in front of him and watched Uskuld. “I…can say that historically that has generally been the purpose of raiding. However the band which attacked Virden does not represent…”

“Yes or no, please, Mr. Uskuld,” Cole cut him off bluntly. Schultz looked over at him but was ignored.

“Knowing what I do about the man who led the attack…yes, that is likely correct. He believes in the old ways,” Uskuld said, drawing it out as long as he could.

Cole abruptly continued. “It is estimated that between one fourth and one third of all the civilians held in captivity by the Arvo have died due to overwork, malnutrition, disease, and torture. Is this true? And explain either way, if you would.”

Uskuld looked stone faced. “I do not know the mortality rates of captives, this is not formal trade but all done off the books, as it were. I do not even know how many captives were taken. Furthermore I was under the impression that not all captives were accounted for, how were these figures calculated?”

“The figure is admittedly an extrapolation, but it’s based on direct reports from the field,” Cole explained. “Sometimes the Rangers identified human remains, other times they interviewed survivors. One in four, one in three, either way can you explain how so many could have died in such a relatively short period of captivity?”

“I cannot, Assemblyman,” Uskuld said.

“Nothing at all?” Cole asked.

Cole looked down at the report again. “Many survivors are malnourished, traumatized, and in some cases mutilated. Nearly all women captives of middle age or younger describe being sexually assaulted; some are rewarded as war brides, others were pressed into sex slavery. The vast majority of them end up carrying their captors’ children.” Almost the entire room looked uneasy at hearing this. Cole looked back up at Uskuld. “This and the mortality rate suggests those held captive by the Arvo are held in truly appalling conditions. Can you explain this, Mr. Uskuld?”

“Assemblyman, Mok Ukkadis believes in the old ways. This is how it was done, but it is unacceptable by modern standards,” he said.

“The captives were sold all around Arvo territory on the mainland. Mok Ukkadis didn’t keep them for himself and he doesn’t bear sole responsibility. Not only that, the Battle of Sona was not waged by Mok Ukkadis alone, he had supporters, and dozens of Adiran servicemen and women were killed in action by Arvo fighters there. Clearly he isn’t the only one who believes in the old ways. Mr. Uskuld, there is a slave trade going on in the Ura Sea. It threatens our people and it must end.”

Cole removed his glasses and spoke directly to Uskuld, who wore a blank expression. “As chair of this committee, I am going to recommend to the Commission that representatives from Adiron and from the Arvo Nation be granted access to the camps as you have proposed. We will lobby on your behalf with the wider Commission when it meets, and if accepted this will become the policy of both the Adiran and Edomite governments.”

“This Committee will in turn expect of the Arvo Nation a formal agreement ending its slave trade and coastal raiding. If adopted, this agreement must be declared by all elders and enforced effectively. Those who break this agreement must be treated as criminals by your own people. If the Arvo Nation cannot enforce it, then those criminal elements will be targeted by antipiracy operations once again.

The committee broke for recess. In a restroom, Schultz came up next to Cole as he washed his hands.

“Jim, what was that?”

“What?”

“We were supposed to be sticking up for the human rights of indigenous peoples. You just gave him terms for surrender,” Schultz said, looking irritated.

“Our own people’s human rights are being violated too. That must be in the record,” Cole said, briefly shaking his hands off and grabbing a paper towel. “The Edomites won’t get away with anything. Neither will the Arvo.”



Shiloam Palace

It was in the aftermath of this first Committee hearing that Queen Mara’s birthday arrived on the calendar. New Edom’s growth throughout the region was a source of anxiety for a number of Adirans, still painfully aware of their alliance with the Imperium. For some Adirans, it was hard to say if this or genuine humanitarianism was the real motivating factor for Arvo advocacy.

Not so for the Secretary of State.

The last time Amy Bailey had been at Shiloam she had persistently, some would say stubbornly, advocated for the creation of the Commission on the Arvo. It was to consist of Adiran and Edomite officials who would launch an inquiry into the status of Arvo civilian detainees in the Union of South Ceti. After a period of organizing, the Commission was now holding hearings on both sides of the Tempesta, with the Adirans represented by the Select Committee headed by Cole. Bailey hadn’t managed to pack the Select Committee with her people though; Schultz was one of hers but Cole was more in line with President Rowan.

It was not clear how things would go from here. In the wake of the Battle of Sona, a number of Social Democrats were starting to see things Cole's way: that the Arvo Nation was not a beleaguered indigenous group but a small hostile nation essentially at war with all of its neighbors--and Adiron. They had clearly stockpiled weaponry with the intent of fighting off anti-piracy forces. They had attacked an Edomite frigate, the Blasco, using anti-ship missiles and small craft. At Sona they had managed to organize an air defense grid capable of seriously disrupting an air assault by the Adiran Seventh Ranger Regiment. Bailey was worried that the Committee of her making would end up beating the war drums.

Queen Mara had privately expressed her own concerns over the treatment of the Arvo to Bailey, and the two had been in contact behind the scenes. Where the Adiran Select Committee had focused almost entirely on the captives and the slave trade, however, the Edomite half of the Commission had mostly concerned itself with economic security in the Arvo's former lands, especially agriculture. If anything would please Mara, it would be that, but to Bailey it was the internment camps, the ones run by the Edomites, which were central to the Commission's purpose. She wanted to speak to members of the Commission--or Mara herself if she was willing--about where they were going with this before the Adiran and Edomite halves of the Commission convened in their first full session.

Ambassador Redstone was having his last hurrah. Word was his replacement was in the pipeline, although he still hadn’t heard who, exactly. New Edom had changed drastically since he arrived prior to the First Civil War. An entire page of the royal roster had been stricken down, then two civil wars and a dictatorship later and the country seemed to be trying to conquer Acheron. Redstone had organized relief efforts, maintained contacts with the governments during the civil wars, and overseen attempts to improve relations and weaken the Edomite-Imperial alliance. His whole experience involved a war-torn, divided, impoverished New Edom. Many of the men he'd worked with here in New Edom over the years were, in fact, dead now.

It was different now. It very well could require a different ambassador too. That suited him just fine; he'd left behind a solid legacy of improving relations with the Edomites. If things went downhill, it would be on his successor's head.

Deputy Chief of Staff Alan Cruise was supposed to be there to make sure everyone stayed on schedule and keep general tabs on security and transportation. He told fellow members of the President’s staff that there was no chance he’d ever miss several days of feasting, drinking, smoking, and nudity. He told Secretary Fortner alone that he’d contacted their mutual friends in the hopes of privately informing them of Adiron’s intentions in Arcologia. He wanted to know theirs as well, and whether or not Nicanor would be back.

The First Lady, Leslie Rowan, was in attendance for a much simpler reason: because she thought she’d made friends with the Queen during the last state visit. Despite Baran custom being explained at great length, she had still bought a gift for Mara. She hadn’t yet decided if she should risk the breach of custom and give it to her anyway, or maybe give it to her in private. It would remain in her room until she decided.

The Ambassador went up to Padan earlier to receive the rest of the Adiran party, being part of the greeting as their plane came to a stop at the Padan airport. He hoped this birthday would be less stressful than the King's. Against all odds, the deal brokered there had halted a war with the Imperium already in progress. It was like a man holding back a river by himself; the Palisades were a war zone and an armored spearhead had already crossed the border into Plainterre. However, the controversial terms of the agreement started one of the greatest political debates in Adiron today. All governments involved were still haggling over certain terms. If not for the stock market crash the deal would have been the central issue in the 2016 elections. President Rowan's first state visit had been to New Edom to discuss this very thing. It may have even worked poor President DeGroot into the ICU.

When the Adiran plane arrived, Redstone had gone just native enough that he bowed instead of shaking hands. "Madame Secretary, Madame First Lady, welcome back to Padan," he said.

"Thank you, Ambassador. It feels like we just left," Bailey said.

"I don't think we've met," Leslie said, having stuck her hand out but retracted it awkwardly. "I'm sorry, the Secretary's told me your name but..."

"David's fine, ma'am," Redstone said.

"Then Leslie's good enough for me," she said brightly as they started to walk to the car.

"There we go, all nice and friendly," Alan Cruise said gregariously from behind them. They'd been outside in the Edomite heat for perhaps a minute or two but there was already a bit of a sheen on his brow.

Redstone smiled thinly. As Deputy Chief of Staff, Cruise had been in contact with the embassy frequently over planning the state visit, the details of the peace deal, and now this birthday visit. By now Redstone felt he knew the man as much as he wanted to. He was not fond of Cruise's self-indulgence or his overly familiar manner. Then again, maybe it was just another way he might've gone native.

The Adirans rode in a motorcade to the Majestic Hotel and spent most of the intervening time before the parade unpacking their luggage, getting their security and staff settled in their rooms, and making phone calls back home to attend to dangling threads. Cruise went for a heavy breakfast, eating crepes, croissants, and a couple of cups of coffee. He was about to head out the door for a cigar—until he realized he was back in New Edom, and so promptly lit up and started puffing away.
In-character name of the nation is "Adiron," because I like the name better.

User avatar
Republica De Gran Chaco
Diplomat
 
Posts: 618
Founded: Jun 29, 2015
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Republica De Gran Chaco » Mon May 21, 2018 8:34 pm

Padan-Aran
Bara Province, New Edom
.
The small convoy pulled up and parked in front of the main doors of the Majestic hotel. A group of security and aides all hopped out and went about their business unloading bags and heading inside to check with the front desk about their accommodations. Out of one of the SUVs came Simon Alvarado the Chacano Foreign Minister with Sofia Muñoca the ambassador to New Edom. They were speaking in hushed voices not wanting to be overheard.

“Yes, Sofia it is a shame about Xeina, but you do know the real reason that she was forced to resign, don’t you?” The Foreign Minister asked.

“Only rumors sir. New Edom quickly replaced their ambassador in Yanque at the same time so we guessed it was something to do with that.” Sofia responded.

The minister stopped and looked around and decided that it was a safe enough place, “I know that you two were personal friends so I’ll let you in on this, but this is completely unofficial and doesn’t go anywhere ok.”

Sofia nodded

The minister continued in a hushed voice, “When that battle broke out in Ashab with the Edomites in Ashab, Xeina was no where to be found. The Prime Minister was demanding her for a meeting. She wouldn’t answer her calls or emails. They sent a group to her house and the walked in on her and Dr. Kore getting intimate. The Prime Minister demander her resignation, and the resignation of that old fool who was pretending to be Foreign Minister.”

Sofia looked at him with her mouth agape, “I can’t believe it.”

“That’s the truth, word was hushed up between us and the Edomites but we couldn’t let her keep running the place. They recalled me from my position as Special Envoy to Dongying and had her leave. I was put in as interim minister and then confirmed” Alvarado finished.

He noticed the slight marine brigadier standing in his tailored forest green beret with his arms behind his back patiently waiting for his attention. Alvarado and Sofia turned towards him, “Ah Brigadier Tomas, how are you?”

Brigadier Julian Tomas grinned, “I am fine sir. I have taken a liking to the gift that we have brought and wanted to remind you to make sure that we arrange a private meeting to give it to the queen. I have had the pleasure to work with the Edomites briefly in Latium and though they are a reliable people, they are prickly and can be cold if they feel slighted.”

“Ah of course, thank you Brigadier. Sofie, you’ll go through the proper channels?” The minister asked.

Sofia looked down at her phone, “I am on in now sir. I’m telling my secretary to schedule an appointment.”

To: Dr. Judith Been, Protocal Office
From: Ambassador Sofia Muñoca
Subject: Request for an appointment with the Queen.
Encryption: low





Dear Dr. Been,

I would like to request an audience with Queen Mara at some point before the festivities begin. The Chacano delegation has a gift on behalf of our government that we would wish to bestow on the Queen. We understand that it is counter to custom to do this during the actual party and we wish to cause no offence to her majesty.

Sofia Muñoca,
Ambassador, Republica de Gran Chaco
كان التيز سمين

User avatar
New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 23228
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Tue May 22, 2018 11:39 am

Padan-Aran,
Bara Province, New Edom


Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain, the Royal Master of Offices, was a tall, dark haired elegant man, who was, after the Monarchs, the most important person at the Royal Court. Much of the communication between the Palace and other parts of the government went through his office; he controlled appointments, budgets, staffing, transportation and security. He had served in the National Navy including a combat tour during the Hutanjian Civil War, but while he often wore a naval dress uniform at formal events was reluctant to brag about his career. "I was carried by my staff, by the chiefs and junior officers."

During his childhood and youth, he had grown up with the Royal Family. His father, Prince Philip Tubal-Cain, had been the late King Mark's Foreign Minister, and had died with him in a fatal plane crash. As a child, he had looked up to King Elijah (then Prince Elijah) and had been close friends with now Queen Mara.

He had a smoking habit, and was very fond of the company of pretty women. In fact, he was married to Princess Desiree from Gavinium magnus, who had borne him two children, and had a mistress named Jessica McKay who came from Adiron. His lovely buxom mistress was, in fact, invited to the celebrations and had a hotel room at the Majestic.

While he would have preferred to have spent time at Shiloam partying before the parade and other celebrations, he had a duty to keep things organized. And while he had the duty of receiving reports and coordinating activities from civic officials,military officers, clergy, he also was obliged to meet with foreign officials.

He had just received a report from Colonel Count Jonas Falk about the status of the parade route, and from General John Ashdod, the Minister of Police, he was informed by Dr. Judith Been that a meeting with Queen Mara had been requested.

"That's difficult..." Enoch took a drag of a cigarette and sipped from a glass of mint tea. "It will entirely be last minute if it does take place...and I am wondering why the Queen..."

"It could just be to offer the gift," offered Dr. Been. In contrast to the naval uniform, Dr. Been was unclothed except for neatly arranged body paint that resembled vines and flowers.

"Possibly. Let the Ambassador know that she can meet with me first." Prince Enoch said, sighing. He glanced up then as Cedron, his valet, came in with another servant from his household to present him with the ceremonial costume--such as it was--that he had to wear for the ceremony.

"I'll change into it later."

"The paint, Your Excellency..."

"Fine, fine," Prince Enoch slapped his desk. "Let's get it done." He stood and held onto his patients as his servants began to undress him...

Dr. Been, meanwhile, called Sofia and informed her that the Master of Offices was happy to meet with her to discuss setting up a brief audience.




Count Thomas Lalery, President of the Council of Ministers, his wife Princess Caroline of Ghant, Count Emil Sharra the Minister of the Interior and the Countess his wife, and Archbishop Zecharias and his wife were all sitting under a large umbrella at a table at The Garden Restaurant, an excellent replica of the original in Gyflada except that the lovely garden surrounding the setting had native flora. Purple petaled anagallis spread out from little yellow stamens, and clusters of delicate hyacinth bobbed in the breezes near them. Star-like white jasimine gaily soldiered in rows near them, the fluting curling petals yellow Irises bred by the National Botanical Society caught moisture in their dish like centers.

An extensive selection of 17 different types of loose leaf tea was offered. The traditional Genovian Tea Menu included freshly cut sandwiches with smoked salmon, cucumber, egg mayonnaise, roast ham and Cheddar cheese fillings. The finger sandwiches are served on a three tier stand, together with freshly baked apple and raisin scones with strawberry preserve and clotted Trebursyen cream, followed by a delectable selection of afternoon tea cakes and pastries.

"This is regularly Ghantish," Count Lalery had observed. "It's a good thing I don't eat like this every day..." he smiled as his wife advised him to simply nibble.

"But that is un-Edomite!" exclaimed Lalery with a loud bark of a laugh. "It is indecent to eat like a bird! At the same time it's nice to not have something full of chickpeas and bulgar wheat all the time."

"Our national diet is excellently healthy" said Count Sharra with a bit of smugness. "It is a published fact."

"Well, perhaps we should adopt a version of these cream cakes,"said the Archbishop, licking some residue off his thick fingers, his rather feline face looking very satisfied indeed.

The women were all wearing crimson gowns of delicate make and sheer quality, falling almost like water or mist, while the men wore cloaks made from long curling dark, red and white feathers except for the Archbishop who wore a long black robe of linen which was embroidered with many symbols of Christianity including fish, the chi-rho symbol, crosses and crowns of thorns.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

User avatar
Shalum
Minister
 
Posts: 2461
Founded: Oct 07, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Shalum » Tue May 22, 2018 10:50 pm

Aragon, The Empire of Shalum

The main office of the Imperial Commissariat served as a stark contrast to that to the opulent headquarters that the nation’s intelligence services had erected over the course of the last decade. It was, for the most part, devoid of the mere concept of individuality. The carpet was the same dark blue throughout the entire office section, and the walls were a lackluster gray. Every now and then, there were pictures of the Imperial family or the upper echelons of the department’s leadership, but there was rarely more than that. Common rooms, armories, and various other support centers were exceptions to the rule, but it went without question that the endless rows of cubicles and offices were places of work.

Having practically lived in the building for the duration of his adult life, Jacob Hewitt knew the layout like the back of his hand. Head high and black coat swishing ever so gently, he moved through the halls with purpose. Along the way, he passed a few fellow officers who he nodded respectfully to; the rest were mostly low level support staff who helped conduct that his department needed to ensure political reliability. An elevator ride later, he found himself on the highest floor of the building where the Commandant spent most of her time.

Getting into the office was something of a pain, but Jacob had done it more times than he could count. There was an entire team of heavily armed security officers outside of her door who stopped him to ensure that he all of his identification was in order, and that he didn’t have any outside listening equipment. The Commissariat wasn’t exactly popular, considering the nature of their business, and the one at the top of the food chain was an obvious target.

“Hewitt, come in and take a seat. I will be just one moment.” The flaxen haired Commandant said by the way of greeting, barely looking up from a form that she had been reading over. Her guest didn’t bother with a reply, and merely nodded as he shuffled forward to deposit himself in a broken in leather chair on the other side of her desk.

Silence reigned for the better part of a minute, before his superior finally picked up a pen and scratched out several quick notes and set the page aside. “I trust that you’ve reviewed the delegation that we are sending to New Edom?” She asked as she finally clicked her pen and set the page aside.

“Yes ma’am, I have.” Jacob’s baritone voice was flat and formal, just as he had been taught to do be. Political officers were supposed to be above the emotions that marred lesser men, at least outside of the heat of battle when it was best to whip fire into soldiers.

“Any complaints or concerns?”

“None that come to mind. All of them have very solid PRIDE ratings.” While most would have looked down on such a ranking system, the Commissariat had established an algorithm to rank every officer above the rank of captain, as well as everyone of noble birth (except for the royal family, of course). Those who ranked better, and were seen as more loyal to the Empire and its values, were given certain privileges and less scrutiny. The lower ranking dissenters were monitored, either by the department’s personnel or computer systems that logged a person’s habits through various means. “General Flemming is the lowest, and even then, his is well above average - even for a highborn.”

Jacob paused for a moment, his hands resting in his lap. “If I may, ma’am, I would just like to note something. I believe it is a bit...wasteful to dedicate so many resources to monitoring a party, don’t you think?”

For a fleeting moment, his boss actually smiled. “You aren’t wrong, commissar.” She noted as she ran a hand along her hair, tied in a simple ponytail. “But New Edom is a valued Imperion ally. Maintaining positive relations with them is of the utmost importance, even if I have to pull you away from other cases for the next week. I’m not privy to the designs of the noble courts, but they’ve made it clear that they want to foster relations. There have been several attempts, but none have been overly successful. So far, anyways. I just need you to ensure our people stay out of trouble.” She paused and sipped lukewarm coffee. “I take it that you’ve been briefed on the intentions of the party?”

“They ran their ideas by me, yes.” Jacob confirmed. “I’m going to be honest. I don’t necessarily see the Edomites going for it. This is just a party after all. They’re going to have to work quickly. Then again, everyone involved is of good standing politically and financially. They could certainly do much worse. Should they succeed, there are certain parties that would be pleased.”

“While it is ultimately out of your hands, I trust that you’ll do everything you can to ensure their success.” The Commandant said, giving him an intent look.

“Of course, ma’am.”

The blonde glanced at her clock on instinct. “Your flight leaves in twelve hours. Go in the Grace of God, and remember that you are a representation of our Empire, commissar.”




The Majestic Hotel, Padan,
The Allied States of New Edom


“Have you ever been to the states before, Countess?”

The Shalumite party had arrived roughly around the same time as many of their counterparts, coming in on what was no doubt an endless wave of private and commercial aircraft. Their own was a newer model, with all the luxuries one could ask for and far more room than the four of them (plus their small staff) could ever fill. While the highborns had all donned expensive suits, a designer dress in one case, General Flemming had instead opted to arrive in his dress blues. That being said, he had quite a few outfits packed along, the sort that would likely be more appropriate for the upcoming festivities.

Then again, women did love a man in uniform. Or so the saying went, anyways.

Looking over her shoulder, Saudia’s lips curled into a small smile as she nodded and adjusted her handbag. Several valets trailed in their wake, along with the political officer and the team he had brought along, with carts of luggage. It went without saying that each bag was likely filled with clothing that cost more than the handlers would make in a year.

“Several times, actually.” The sunkissed noblewoman confirmed before taking a sip of chilled water from a bottle she had been offered. “My father never worked here during his days as a junior diplomat, but he did visit on several occasions. He fell in love with the country, to some extent, and tried to take us here at least once a year or so. The beaches are amazing, just like the people.” Vyander paused for a moment. “What about you, general?”

Flemming opened his mouth to speak, but paused as his commissar and a hotel employee zipped passed. He heard the blackcoat say something about ‘checking the room before he settled in’ and not much more as she disappeared into an elevator with a flourish. By now, her curt attitude was something he’d grown accustomed to.

“Only once, and not for very long. I was sent here to meet with some military types, back when I was just an Imperion attache. Aside from a little cafe close to the base we went to, I can’t say I stayed long enough to really immerse myself in the culture.” His shared his companion’s smile. “I’m hoping to change that. I’m already considering staying several more days.”

“You’ve earned it, general. Surely the military can survive a little longer without you.” Saudia replied with a twinkle in her eye.

Flemming flashed her a sheepish expression, running a hand through his red hair. It went without saying that he was a bit unaccustomed to the sort of attention he’d been receiving for the last few weeks. Before his appointment to Supreme Commander, he had been nothing more than a two-star general from a minor noble family no one had cared to pay much attention to for the last century. He had been just as shocked as everyone else had been when they had chosen him to lead the campaign in Kamosa, and even more stunned when he’d forced the enemy into a quick capitulation with only minor losses. The average person may not have been all that invested, but he’d apparently become a blip on the radar in certain circles.

As the pair stepped into another elevator, Duke Jacker Harper and Prime Minister Solaris lingered in the lobby, taking their sweet time. Both of the men were a bit older than their counterparts, in their forties and fifties respectively. It had been a long time since they have travelled, and considering the sorts of matters that they usually had to deal with on a daily basis, attending a birthday party was a welcome change. The pair had already had their staff venture out to fetch some local foods, which they snacked on while they waited for their room keys and the last of their things to be ferried upstairs.

“Has your office heard back from Mister Mord, yet?”

Solaris glanced up from the tablet he had been flicking through and rolled a shoulder. “I’m honestly not sure. I haven’t checked in with my people yet aside from informing them that we have arrived safely. I’m sure that if he hasn’t gotten back to us yet, that he will in his own time. I’m sure they will want to push back any sort of actual negotiations until after festivities have died down.”

“No complaint there.” The Duke chuckled and picked up a cup of tea. “I’ve been up to my neck in Azurans for the last week. Relaxation sounds wonderful before we get back to work.”

The Prime Minister quirked an eyebrow, but his expression remained mostly unphased. “Still planning on gauging the interests of local women?”

“Damn straight I am.”

“You’re not twenty anymore, Jack. Isn’t that a bit above someone of your rank?” Ethan noted softly, looking back down to his work device.

The Duke actually paused, his smile fading a bit. “That is exactly why I’m interested in what I am. It’s not like I’m getting younger.”

“No one forced you to remain unwed this long, you know. There are few that could say ‘no’ to someone with your wealth. Hell, most would understand if you were only doing it for political reasons.”

“It’s not something I wanted to rush.” Jack said with a nonchalant shrug. “I’m lucky that I’ve still got time on my side. Shalumite and Acrean girls haven’t worked,” the latter was a nation with nobility that the Empire was closely aligned with, “perhaps my luck with be a bit better here.”

“As someone privy to the guest list, I doubt you’ll have trouble finding company. Are you still planning on approaching that one you spoke of earlier?” The Duke nodded in confirmation. “She seems like a good one. Granted...all I’ve got is a picture and some information on her family, but that is enough I suppose.”

“I’m actually a bit nervous,” Jack admitted with a chuckle, “it’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”

“I would say be yourself, but I don’t know if everyone else needs to know how marines party.” The Prime Minister mused. “Just...roll with it, I suppose? It’s a lot easier when you’re the same age as the person you’re trying to catch the interest of.” Ethan had done that during his college years, and it had worked out well so far. “I hope you can dance, Jack. If what I know of the Queen and her entourage is true, it would probably be...helpful to say the least.”
Conscription is the vitality of a nation, the purification of its morality, and the real foundations of all its habits.

It is better to be a warrior in a garden then to be a gardener in a war.

User avatar
Fahran
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10146
Founded: Nov 13, 2017
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Fahran » Wed May 23, 2018 12:40 pm

The Majestic Hotel, Padan-Aran
Bara Province, New Edom


It was the usual bit of melodrama.

A translucent mauve gown whispered over her taut, olive skin with every slink of her full, rounded shoulders, a symbolic concession to the compulsory nudity of their hosts. Even a devout Muslim had to admit that the gown was a vision of beauty, a soft, well-woven shawl of silk that cast light and shadow alluringly over supple limbs and voluptuous torso, simultaneously maddening the mind and confounding lustful impulses. It was the mirage of water amid a scorched expanse of desert, and even more could be said of the woman who wore it as naturally as she might wear any other dress. Soraya was reclining in her cushioned chair, a cool cup of mint tea hovering by her lips, and, as always, every eye was fixated on her.

Hazea's eye twitched palpably. Beads of perspiration had begun to coalesce on her forehead and cheeks, running in long rivulets down her round face. The foundation and eye shadow that Soraya and Easa had meticulously applied that morning over her vocal protests had grown damp and uncomfortable. A single brush of her hijab might wipe it all away. In exasperation, Hazea tugged the garment back, revealing a tangle of wet curls. Her hair was unruly at the best of times, and sitting outside a cafe while tourists ogled her scantily clad best friend in excessively high temperatures, was not her definition of the best of times. She guzzled the contents of her mug in a less than dignified fashion.

"I told you it was too hot for a hijab," Soraya tutted. Her expression was bored. A sultry glance at a waiter, complete with batting eyelashes, succeeded in getting them another round of mint tea in a laughably short period of time. The boy who could not have been older than twenty lunged across the patio, fumbling their beverages in the process. He then scrambled awkwardly away before they could thank him.

"It's the makeup," Hazea grumbled, as she pulled off her hijab and began dabbing her eyes. "It's never been an issue before." Her lips pursed into a prominent pout.

"Don't be such a baby, Hazea," the older girl yawned, fanning herself indolently, "I told you to dress lighter for a reason. You've gotten used to cold weather in your time at university, and your constitution has always been delicate anyhow."

The princess bit her lip irately. "Would you have had me dress like you?" she asked venomously, "Those old men over there are staring at your tits!"

Smirking bemusedly, Soraya pivoted so that she was leaning towards Hazea. Their faces were dangerously close. "Let them look," she breathed, "Does a sunset care when we peer into it? Besides, my manner of dress is perfectly modest by Edomite standards. Yours, on the other hand, would spur their imaginations into all sorts of lurid thoughts. Alas, they have no idea how measly those mosquito bites you're hiding under that dress are."

Fuming, Hazea sank back in her chair, arms folded rigidly across her chest. "Does Sagal know that you're dressed like a street-walker?" she demanded hotly.

"Sagal picked out the gown," Soraya explained patiently, "And quit pouting. Your face looks like a tomato right now. "

"Am I a cute tomato?" Hazea asked sweetly after a brief pause. All at once, both girls were giggling, creating a slight stir in the mostly quiet cafe. Soraya pounded the table with her well-worked knuckles causing their drinks to clank loudly. "You're an adorable tomato," she replied with an easy smile, "It's really quite fortunate given how you've blushed at every naked person we've passed, even the priests."

"I'm not used to it is all," the princess mumbled, "Edomites are such a lewd, unrefined people. And some of the stories I've heard about Mar- I'm sorry. I shouldn't gossip about our gracious hosts. It's rather impolite." Hazea wiped her mouth daintily with a napkin, blushing softly at how uncouth her remarks had been.

Her friend smiled sympathetically. "It's alright," she consoled her with a firm squeeze of the hand, "You may speak freely with me, my princess. And I'll always speak freely with you." A waiter brought them a plate of pastries stuffed with strawberries, blueberries, and pomegranate syrup. Warm, saccharine scents steamed up from the dish, making Hazea's mouth water. Her stomach growled rambunctiously for the umpteenth time that morning.

Their forks were dainty, silver things with floral patterns and grapevines delicately shaped into the metal. Hazea was almost sorry that she'd have to dirty them. Nonetheless the delicacies were beckoning to her and her stomach was emitting loud complaints. A mouthful of sweet pomegranate seeds poured gasoline over the fire that burned in her cheeks. She beamed contently, ignoring the stickiness of her lips as she danced in her chair. "This is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten!" she gushed.

"I ordered eight," Soraya said evenly, "I wholly expect you to devour four of them. It's a wonder you stay so small when your appetite would put most horses to shame."

"Well, I do spend a lot of time in the stables," Hazea offered, still munching on her pastry happily.

"Perhaps I should give you oats for breakfast from now on then?" Soraya replied mischievously, "It might help your figure a bit."

"My figure is fine, you strumpet," huffed Hazea, tossing her head with feigned frostiness. "Speaking of," she began, "You mentioned before that Sagal picked out that gown. What was she thinking? Ismael will be livid if he finds out. Not to mention what Ya-"

"Yazid?" Soraya chortled prior to taking a long draft of mint tea, "He hates us well enough already. Our proximity to you suffices. He hardly needs an actual reason for it. As for my dear brother, he won't care. Ismael understands that we have to make sacrifices if we want to put you on the throne. A see-through dress is a little thing next to Imana. I grew up there, princess. I still remember the palatial gardens with their doves and their sweet-singing fountains. I still remember my father's broad chest and well-made arms and kind, gray eyes. I still remember the thinness of the mountain air and the lilt of our folk songs and the tickle of the spring rain against my naked heels. They haunt my dreams each night and, when I awake at dawn, my chest hurts, as though someone has scraped out my heart with a scalpel as I slept. I'm tired, Hazea. I'm so tired. I want to go home." Her voice was tremulous and effected.

Nodding solemnly, Hazea cupped her friend's hands in her own. Soraya's hands were hard and calloused from years of menial labor. The knuckles were knotted like old bark writhing around the body of a sycamore. Flakes of dry skin hung loosely here and there, and deep wrinkles were ubiquitous on her palms. Several pale scars and deep, permanent gashes snaked over her fingers. They were a shepherdess's hands, but, more than that. No shepherdess had suffered so many privations, so many setbacks, so many wounds. Hazea felt a lump forming in her throat. "And so we shall," she said quietly, "You have my word. Come, dear sister, no more sad eyes. Tell me of your gown."

Her friend blinked and nodded slowly, heaving a deep, husky sigh. "Apparently, a number of the men attending the festivities have somewhat lecherous inclinations," Soraya related in a low voice, "Sagal thinks they'll pay us more mind if we pander to them a little bit. The dress is cute too, so that helps." The haughty, truculent sparkle so natural to Soraya's overall bearing shone in her light gray eyes once again.

"It is cute," Hazea conceded, "I look like a pita sandwich right now." She glanced forlornly over her outfit, throwing her hands up in dismay and exasperation. "Picking out clothes has never been a strength of mine," she added sourly.

"What's worse is there's no meat in the pita," Soraya teased, mussing the princess's hair playfully.

"Is that another joke about my boobs?" Hazea asked dryly.

"Yes, or rather your lack of such diplomatic assets," Soraya said, "Sorry. It's just that dress you're wearing doesn't help at all. You do smell nice at least."

"I can never tell when you're complimenting me or insulting me," Hazea mused, nibbling on her lip again.

"That's the p-" The droning of bells, merrily rang and echoing throughout the city, had put a halt to their conversation. Hazea's heart thumped furiously as she recalled the melody of the adhan. Her senses had been overwhelmed by the savage cacophony, a slug that seeped and slithered into the ear in spite of any frantic attempt to shut it out. Soraya was mouthing that they had another hour or so of leisure, though Hazea could not hear her words.

It was the usual bit of melodrama, only set against the pageantry of brash, bellowing bells, bells that echoed the impermanence of all things.
Last edited by Fahran on Wed May 23, 2018 1:21 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Hi. I'm Fahran. I'm aggressively Jewish and rep that premed srat life.
Diopolis wrote:*mutters to self* hope not hoppe. Hope not hoppe.

User avatar
Vionna-Frankenlisch
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1810
Founded: Jun 21, 2014
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Vionna-Frankenlisch » Wed May 23, 2018 2:50 pm

Lord Richard Spears

"Beautiful..." Lord Spears declared. "Quite beautiful indeed." He turned to his mistress, Anne Saghun, and smiled at her warmly, his soft blue eyes staring into her own hazel ones. "The restaurant, I mean, the wondrous flowers and-" He took a sip of his hot beverage, "The marvellous tea..."

"Richard?" Anne asked, "Speak to me plainly. Are you here to find a wife?"

Those blue eyes betrayed everything before Spears could even find the words to respond. Nonetheless, he spoke, "Well... It's very difficult you see, my dear." He wiped his lips with his handkerchief and thought ardently for a way out of this predicament. Anne simply laughed.

"I take it that's a yes then." She said, it would usually be a question but here it was a simple statement, not even an accusation. Her long red hair was pushed again from obscuring her freckled face and she placed her hand over that of her lover and looked once more into his eyes.

"Yes..." He replied. "Twenty-eight years and unmarried, Anne, when will this facade end? I am a peer, a noble, of the realm! I cannot father a bastard and expect an heir, I need a wife!" He wasn't angry just passionate and, despite his immediate fears, he could see that Anne had not taken offence. Nevertheless, "I'm sorry, my dear," he apologised, "But you understand how these things are..."

"Of course I do. And I know you can't marry me, not a man of your station. But I would remain with you if it cost me my life." She peered over Richard's shoulder, "Also, keep it down, hmm? Those Edomites are looking at us..." She nodded her head towards Lalery's party. Concurrently, the pair sipped tea. Anne hummed and Richard let out a deep "Mmmmm..." Anne finally took the time to observe her surroundings, she found to her pleasure that Richard was right. It was beautiful. She looked around and gazed upon the variety of pretty little Pimpernels and deep violet Hyacinth that decorated the serene environment.

Soon she felt something on her hair and saw Richard withdrawing his hand, she knew exactly what he'd done as he beamed at her like a proud child. A little yellow iris poked out from her fiery red locks. She smiled back at him but secretly she felt rather a great deal of sorrow at the revelation. "Is that the only reason you've come here?" She asked, "To find my replacement?"

Richard sat back with a sharp intake of breath. "Replacement?" He sounded hurt. "I couldn't ever replace you, darling. Never." Anne knew exactly what was coming next... "But-"

"But you have to marry some foreign strumpet to provide you with an heir. I know." She bit back, "But what then, what will become of me?"

"There you are!" Princess Elena Falk-Turrell, her outfit unchanged from her earlier outing, said.
"I do hope we're not interrupting anything," Princess Alice interrupted.

"No, of course not, Princess." He replied to Alice. "Princess." He nodded in salute to Elena. "Please, sit." He gestured to a pair of free chairs.

"I do so hate to be a killjoy, Lord Spears, but we'd best be going if we're to change for dinner." Elena remained by Richard's side and pestered him to leave while Alice approached Count Lalery's party of Edomites.

"My Lord..." She said, bowing graciously. She didn't recognise Lalery or his companions but introduced herself and the other Vionna-Frankenlischians in hopes of a reply. She gestured to the others in succession, "Princess Elena Falk-Turrell of Vionna-Frankenlisch. Lord Richard Spears, Earl of Darlington, Baron of Caernam and Prince-Bishop of Faen. And his... Companion. Miss Annette Saghun, I believe." She saved herself for last, bowing her head beforehand, "Princess Alice Turrell of Vionna-Frankenlisch, Freigräfin von Junger."
New Edom wrote:Unwerth laughed. “Such hen lobsters are the Vionnans. But then, every Vionnan is half a sodomite."


Domestic Marshal of the ♔♚IMPERION COALITION♚♔
Commissar of Revolutionary Action of the INTERNATIONAL SOCIALIST CONGRESS

Embassy Service - iiWiki

User avatar
Thermodolia
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 57692
Founded: Oct 07, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Thermodolia » Thu May 24, 2018 10:50 am

Padan-Aran Airport,
Bara Province, New Edom


The Thermodolian 787 sat on the tarmac after having just touched down. The airliner, which was run by the Thermodolian Air Force VIP Division, was used for all low level VIPs or for missions that required a smaller profile. All about the plane there was a buzz of activity, agents of the Thermodolian National Protection Agency and Thermodolian Military Police Directorate Protection Division mulled about, technicians scurried about making the last minute checks, and inside the plane the VIPs where getting ready to depart to the hotel for the party.

Martha Grœth had insisted on coming with her husband Dan Grœth to this party. She didn’t want him to get distracted by any female Edomites. She was a very proper lady, very dainty in her appearance with many saying that she is a Thermodolian Jackie Kennedy.

“How is it going my dear?” Dan said has he came up behind her.

“It’s going fine.” She curtly replied as she put on her makeup, “Why aren’t you ready yet? Your bow tie is still not ready and your hair is a mess.” She chided him.

Damn she’s sexy when she’s mad, Dan thought to himself. “Alright I’ll get ready or maybe I won’t and I’ll just go nude”, he knew that remark would make her go nuts.

“You wouldn’t dare!” She exclaimed slamming her powdered sponge on the table.

“I was just kidding. You look so sexy when you’re angry. I’ll go get ready.”

Agent James Hades was the head of the protection detail for the Vice President and thus was made the point man for this trip. Working with the TMPD PD proved to be interesting, while the TNPA protected all high level officials the Thermodolian Military Police Directorate and the Thermodolian Diplomatic Protection Service protected high level officials from the Thermodolian Department of Defense and Thermodolian Department of State.

As he was the man in charge it was his job to inform the guests that the convoy was ready. While they where sure that the security was good they didn’t want to take any chances and therefore took their own vehicles instead of the ones provided by New Edom.

“Sir the convoy is ready and waiting,” Hades said to the Vice President.

“Good. I’ll tell my wife. We will be out soon.”

“Understood Sir.”

As the Vice President was informing his wife all Hades had to do was let the Secretary of Defense know. Once that was finished he walked down the stairs and opened the car door for the Vice President and his wife. As per protocol the Vice President and his wife took the first limo while the Secretary of Defense took the limo directly behind them. Once all where in place Hades climbed into the passenger side of Vice President’s limo; as soon as he had closed the door the convoy pulled out. New Edom police had insured that the route from the airport to the hotel was clear. Sirens blaring the Thermodolian convoy sped along the empty streets towards the hotel, the last of the Thermodolian guests, Ambassador James Trâin, would meet them at the hotel.




Majestic Hotel
Padan-Aran,
Bara Province, New Edom


The ride from the airport was uneventful. Hades could now relax a bit as the Edomite security would be present. He was the first to get out of the limo as it was his job to open the door for the Vice President. Vice President Dan Grœth stepped out of the limo, at the age of 56 he still had strapping rugged good looks, for this occasion he was wearing an expensive black tux with a black bow tie. He paused to help his gorgeous wife of 30 years out of the limo, she was wearing a magnificent sky blue silk dress with gold and white accents. She looked like royalty he thought taking her arm and walking into the hotel.

Behind them came Secretary of Defense Andrea Summers who decided to forgo a dress and instead decided to wear her army dress blues with the rank of captain and associated medals and ribbons attached. Behind her came the Thermodolian Ambassador wearing a black tuxedo with a red, blue, and tan sash coming across his left shoulder.
Male, Titoist cultural nationalist, lives somewhere in the Deep South, give me any good Irish, Canadian, or Scottish whiskey and I will be your friend for life. I'm GAY!
I'm agent #69 in the Gaystapo!
>The Sons of Adam: I'd crown myself monarch... cuz why not?
>>Dumb Ideologies: Why not turn yourself into a penguin and build an igloo at the centre of the Earth?
>Xovland: I keep getting ads for printer ink. Sometimes, when you get that feeling down there, you have to look at some steamy printer pictures.
Click for Da Funies
Click Here for RP Info Embassy Program
Ambassadors to the WA:
Ambassador to the GA Jon Æthr
Ambassador to the SC Eve Šanœ

RIP Dya

User avatar
New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 23228
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Thu May 24, 2018 12:17 pm

The Garden Restaurant
Majestic Hotel
Padan-Aran, Bara Province, New Edom


Soundtrack

Walking through the guests in the lobby not far from the hall that led to the Garden Restaurant, the Minister of Defense, General Jonathan Unwerth walked with Major-General Joachim Merari, the first tall, bronze-olive and craggy faced, the second shorter and vulpine in feature. Each wore a dark dress uniform and carried the formal kepi style cap under their arm. They both politely bowed to a striking middle aged woman with her hair neatly arranged in waves wearing a crimson gown, carrying her golden mask, and a man on whom the feathered cloak and mangle was unflattering: the wide hipped pear shaped pigeon chested Councillor of State, Count Matthias Beroth. Beroth had large flapping hands and had a head roughly shaped like a pineapple with a thick jaw and a tapering head. He scattered ashes from his cigar when he passed them, bowing.

Meanwhile, Count Lalery, a man of powerful chest and shoulders, bold black eyes, raven hair and smooth features, nodded his head with no air of deference but great courtesy. "Princesses, Lord Spears, Miss, such a pleasure. I am Count Lalery, President of the Council of Ministers, and this is my wife, Princess Caroline of Ghant," indicating an attractive red haired lady who very much contrasted with the olive skinned dark haired Edomites. "Count Sharra, our Minister of the Interior, and Countess Sharra," indicating a somewhat shaggy haired man with kindly dark eyes set in a seamed and weathered face, and a lady with a long nose and chin and air more of charm and confidence than handsomeness, "Archbishop Zecharias, the Patriarch of the Apostolic Church and also our Chief Justice, and his wife, Lady Zecharias," indicating a full figured yet pleasant looking woman in a wrap around style summer garden gown.

The Archbishop, who had rather feline features including shrewd looking eyes in seamy folds and a an easily smiling little mouth, said, "We are just enjoying a Gyfladan style afternoon tea, would you care to join us?" He directed a brief appreciative glance at Miss Saghun but it did not linger. Edomite men found women in pants to be curious--at times ridiculous, at other times shockingly sexy, depending on who did the looking, but foreign customs were something the upper classes were generally polite about.

"We can easily refresh the trays," said Count Sharra. "Though me for more tea, no more sandwiches or I shall swelter at the parade and drip suet. No offense, ladies..."

(The Edomites would easily speak in their own language, Baran, or Latin. Otherwise they would speak in accented German or English to their allies.)

"We had heard you would be here," added Lalery. "It is nice to meet you. And I'm sure, nice for you to be able to relax before the review and the start of the ceremonies. Is this your first journey to New Edom?"
Last edited by New Edom on Thu May 24, 2018 12:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

User avatar
Republica De Gran Chaco
Diplomat
 
Posts: 618
Founded: Jun 29, 2015
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Republica De Gran Chaco » Thu May 24, 2018 8:52 pm

Padan-Aran
Bara Province, New Edom
.
“Of course, Dr. Been. I completely understand. Please tell the prince that I am available at his convenience to come. I would also like to thank you for all of your assistance. You have my direct number, please call me when the meeting is set up so that I can know the details. Thank you again Dr. Been” After hanging up Sofia got sent an email to the minister informing him of the meeting and that she would get back to him once she knew the answers to their request for an audience.




Sofia was let into a room where she gave a short bow to Prince Enoch, “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice your excellency.”

When she was allowed in she greeted the prince and asked how he was. When she felt that she could broach the topic at hand she informed the prince, “My government wishes to give the queen a token of our appreciation for the successful joint action against the pretender in Gavinium. We will most definitely take this process under your advisement and we will make certain that we do not mention this. You are right of course, this would be an absolute mess to deal with should every delegation decide to make this request. All the more reason that we thank you for making an exception for Gran Chaco.”
كان التيز سمين

User avatar
New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 23228
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Thu May 24, 2018 9:05 pm

The Majestic Hotel

"Welcome, Madame Ambassador," said Prince Enoch, who was being carefully draped with his feather cloak. Freshly dried body paint showed the trailing vines and flowers which were emblematic of the Queen on his lean body. "I apologize for my state of being, but needs must where ceremony and etiquette require," he smiled.

The Chacano Ambassador was one of the more intelligent and plain spoken of the foreign envoys, but not to the point of rudeness as the Noviterans were or the Adirans for that matter, though he frankly liked Adiran naive brashness. There were only two ways, also, that Chacanoan women rose to such heights: due to ability or due to pure nepotism. Any influence that Sofia had used was her own cunning, he had heard. Thus far he felt that was a fair assessment.

He was also pleased; he liked that the gift was to the Queen; it would exasperate Princess Jocasta to no end. "I think it is a very thoughtful gift, and it will be much appreciated. The Queen will be advised to thank your government in the spirit in which it was given. What time is it, Jacob?:

"Nearly 1:30, Your Excellency."

"Good, Her Majesty should be arriving soon. I will have Doctor Been inform you..." he paused as a collection of large curling dark griffon feathers fluttered against his face and wrinkled his nose, then smiled a bit ruefully. "It was so nice to see you again, we will talk as soon as possible!" With that, his valet opened the door, bowing, signalling that the brief meeting was at an end. The Royal Master of Offices needed to be on hand to greet the Monarchs.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

User avatar
Rupudska
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20520
Founded: Sep 16, 2010
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Rupudska » Thu May 24, 2018 9:50 pm

Majestic Hotel
Padan-Aran,
Bara Province, New Edom


While there was a bit of turbulence on the way, the flight into New Edom and the subsequent landing passed largely without incident. The 787 landed a little earlier than needed on the runway and taxied to a stop directly in front of the first available terminal, with a wheeled set of steps being rolled up to the door. No Karlslandic security was there for the passengers as they disembarked - New Edom may have only been a recent ally to Karlsland, but the passengers (and the Princess especially) were confident in their ability to defend themselves against any would-be assailants that New Edom could possibly let through, even if all they had was (literally) their fists.

Well, almost all. They still had luggage, after all, and the three all had tan leather satchels, and were joined at the bottom by the Karlslandic ambassador to New Edom, who greeted them with a bow and had a smaller black satchel of her own. Apparently she had long learned to travel light while in New Edom.




The Garden Restaurant
Majestic Hotel
Padan-Aran, Bara Province, New Edom


The long flight, the large time zone difference, and Hanna being ever the late sleeper (which was not her fault, she was trained as a night flyer, even if Karlsland's 'night fighter' squadrons were technically just interceptor squadrons), meant that the four Karlslanders that made up the delegation arrived at the restaurant a bit later than the others. Not super late, though - to the Frenchman it would be considered 'fashionably' late. However, these were Karlslanders, and it would have been unacceptable had they actually gotten a schedule.

They had not, but it did nothing to dispel the annoyed faces three of them had for their Princess, and nothing still to dispel the nonplussed face their Princess had for herself. Maintaining a regal posture, they took their seats and waited to be served.
The Holy Roman Empire of Karlsland (MT/FanT & FT/FanT)
THE Strike Witches NationState
Best thread ever.|Ace Combat!
MT Factbook/FT Factbook|Embassy|Q&A
On Karlsland Witch Doctrine:
Hladgos wrote:Scantly clad women, more like tanks
seem to be blowing up everyones banks
with airstrikes from girls with wings to their knees
which show a bit more than just their panties

Questers wrote:
Rupudska wrote:So do you fight with AK-47s or something even more primitive? Since I doubt any economy could reasonably sustain itself that way.
Presumably they use advanced technology like STRIKE WITCHES

User avatar
Vionna-Frankenlisch
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1810
Founded: Jun 21, 2014
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Vionna-Frankenlisch » Fri May 25, 2018 10:51 am

The Garden Restaurant

"My first visit, yes." Princess Alice replied, "And we'd be honoured to join you." She accepted graciously and joined the group around the table. Princess Elena and Anne happily followed Alice while Lord Spears awkwardly stood by, unsure of how to proceed.

"Erm," He muttered. "Yes, of course, quite honoured. And it is indeed the first visit for all of us." He said, doubling down and joining his companions, "I believe our fellow guest, Lord Overton, has visited before but not officially. Unfortunately, he is not currently with us." Richard sat next to Anne and settled down, they had more than enough time to enjoy a conversation with their hosts before getting dinner, after all, there was no pressing need for sustenance this soon after lunch.

"Tell me, Count Lalery, what kind of power does a man of your station wield. Aristocratically, I mean." Princess Alice asked as Lord Spears turned to speak with the Archbishop, "In Vionna-Frankenlisch the Count is, while not lowly, a landless and unwieldy noble."

"Forgive me, my dear Archbishop," Spears said, "but I was interested in the organisation of the Edomite church. Being Prince-Bishop of Faen, a Bishopric within my own county of Darlington, I am always intrigued by such matters."

Princess Elena, meanwhile, was trying to open a conversation of her own, "Princess Caroline, please forgive me but, as we are both foreign by birth to New Edom, I wondered what your opinion was on the nudity enforced in much of this country?"
New Edom wrote:Unwerth laughed. “Such hen lobsters are the Vionnans. But then, every Vionnan is half a sodomite."


Domestic Marshal of the ♔♚IMPERION COALITION♚♔
Commissar of Revolutionary Action of the INTERNATIONAL SOCIALIST CONGRESS

Embassy Service - iiWiki

User avatar
Republica De Gran Chaco
Diplomat
 
Posts: 618
Founded: Jun 29, 2015
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Republica De Gran Chaco » Fri May 25, 2018 8:54 pm

New Edom
.
Sofia bowed again and thanked the Prince. She walked out of the room and sent a message to the Minister’s assistant to have him gather the delegation and move to where the short audience had been arranged. A Sofia waited she checked her emails and replied to some queries from Yanque. The constant communications coming in and out made her wish everything was like the stories from the old hands where they talked about receiving daily cables rather than constant emails and phone calls. In all honesty she wouldn’t worry too much about them as her boss was here in country with her.

The other three from the delegation arrived along with some of their staff. They had a framed painting with them that they would present to the queen when she became available. Chaco had been working well recently with the Edomites, even when they seemed to be at odd with each other. The Foreign Ministry wanted to keep up this good faith and work to establish closer ties and more open lines of communication.

The group sat and waited until they would be let in. Sofia leaned back in her chair quietly with her legs crossed and listened to the conversations that were being had. The Marine Brigadier was chatting softly with a major about the sights that he had seen on a walk throughout the town. Sofia smiled to herself and listened to the mans enthusiasm for the city, “It was a wonderful walk Jaime, this city is fascinating in a way that I cannot properly explain. The people here are so very wonderful and strange, like something out of an old adventure novel.”

The major nodded, “Yes sir, it sure is a different place. I’m not sure how I feel about it just yet, I think I need to see a bit more to decide.”

Sofia joined in on their conversation, “It is strange in many ways to a good Chacano, though it does have many of its charms. The people here are very proud and can be cruel if they feel that they have been slighted or insulted. I hope that all of you have read the cultural briefings, but if not, then I suggest the utmost politeness and formality that you can muster when dealing with Edomites that you do not know. Its actually good to just be polite and formal with them at these functions and to follow their lead in relaxing.”

The Brigadier gave a kind smile at Sofia, “Thank you for the Advice ma’am. It is good to know these things. They helped relieve some of my boys in Latium and I would hate to return the favor with anything insulting.”

Sofia liked this man, he was small and thin and had more of a grandfatherly approach to him rather than a military appearance. She had read up on Brigadier Tomas and had been surprised to learn that he had managed to write four history books aside from commanding Chacos last two amphibious landings. He certainly seemed different to her, she couldn’t even pull off her usual smug demeanor around him, he just seemed to see through it and smile at her in spite of it.

Finally the call was made to meet the queen and the group rose to their feet to go in.
كان التيز سمين

User avatar
New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 23228
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Sat May 26, 2018 4:15 pm

The Garden Restaurant

"My first visit, yes." Princess Alice replied, "And we'd be honoured to join you." She accepted graciously and joined the group around the table. Princess Elena and Anne happily followed Alice while Lord Spears awkwardly stood by, unsure of how to proceed.

"Erm," He muttered. "Yes, of course, quite honoured. And it is indeed the first visit for all of us." He said, doubling down and joining his companions, "I believe our fellow guest, Lord Overton, has visited before but not officially. Unfortunately, he is not currently with us." Richard sat next to Anne and settled down, they had more than enough time to enjoy a conversation with their hosts before getting dinner, after all, there was no pressing need for sustenance this soon after lunch.


Places were set. The foreigners might notice, curiously, that these Edomites made a show of eating but in fact ate ittle, nibbling a bit here and a small bite there, drinking occasionally. They did not seem in fact to be genuinely hungry.

"Tell me, Count Lalery, what kind of power does a man of your station wield. Aristocratically, I mean." Princess Alice asked as Lord Spears turned to speak with the Archbishop, "In Vionna-Frankenlisch the Count is, while not lowly, a landless and unwieldy noble."

"Our aristocracy generally have a great deal of influence" he explained. "There are duties, in some cases symbolic but in most cases having to do with local civil authority that are required. This is not necessarily feudal, but rather the aristocracy act as agents of the sstte when it comes to issues such as land ownership, transference of property, local law and order and so on. Of course there is a great deal of advice and policy guidance done now by other citizens." Lalery continued to smoke, heavy dark tobacco in his cigarillo wreathing the table. "But I'm a bit of an exception, because I am a member of the Royal Family as well through my grandmother." He studied her with a thoughtful look. "What is your interest though?"

"Forgive me, my dear Archbishop," Spears said, "but I was interested in the organisation of the Edomite church. Being Prince-Bishop of Faen, a Bishopric within my own county of Darlington, I am always intrigued by such matters."

"The Edomite Church and the Apostolic Church are two different things

Princess Elena, meanwhile, was trying to open a conversation of her own, "Princess Caroline, please forgive me but, as we are both foreign by birth to New Edom, I wondered what your opinion was on the nudity enforced in much of this country?"

Princess Caroline looked thoughtful and tapped on her chin, and then said, "It's only enforced among localized segments of the population,
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

User avatar
New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 23228
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Sun May 27, 2018 12:18 pm

Majestic Hotel
Padan-Aran,
Bara Province, New Edom


Generally, Sidon the Headwaiter found that you could easily tell who people were even when they had no clothing on. Most foreigners who came to New Edom unclothed were often clothed when at home, and there were subtle and obvious ways that this showed. In the case of the VIPs from Rupudska, it was clear that they normally wore clothes, for their bodies were not consistently tanned. Moreover, their bodies, while fit and well toned, showed the strength that came from training and regular athletic activity rather than from hard physical work. The countless little blemishes that went with being working class Edomites did not show. Discreetly, soft comfortable towels were placed beneath them even as they sat, the staff skilled at being near invisible to guests unless they were wanted.

Sidon made sure that this small group were presented with the offerings. The traditional Genovian Tea Menu included freshly cut sandwiches with smoked salmon, cucumber, egg mayonnaise, roast ham and Cheddar cheese fillings. The finger sandwiches are served on a three tier stand, together with freshly baked apple and raisin scones with strawberry preserve and clotted Trebursyen cream, followed by a delectable selection of afternoon tea cakes and pastries.




Along a side street near the hotel, soldiers of the Halberdier Guards were standing in clusters doing finishing touches to make sure their uniforms were in good order, rifles gleaming from wooden stocks to barrel sights, every buckle and button, ribbon, glove, clip softly gleaming or appropriately dark.

On another, horses huffed, stamped, and nickered as they stood in rows, supervised by grooms and soldiers of the Royal Cavalry Guards. Sleek dark brown, black, and bay horses were there, and soldiers in crimson and white with shakos were gathering. And on other streets too, representative companies of different regiments were emerging from billets in brilliant costume to be presented to their Monarchs. Near the grandstand, the final checks for sound and security were being done.

While all this was going on, Captain Count Alexander Domris, a handsome young officer in Royal Cavalry Guards dress uniform, presented himself to the Ambassador from Gran Chaco (after being properly admitted) and with a neat salute, the young man said, "Your Excellency, I have been instructed to bring you before the Queen, if you would be so good as to accompany me." And if accepted, he would lead her at a measured pace down a stairway to one of the conference rooms.

Discreetly, one of the vehicle convoys moved up to the Majestic Hotel, as others continued to arrive there, and so due to discretion the brief arrival of the Queen, King and others of the Court were not noticed as they moved in a side entrance. The King was brusque as Prince Enoch and his officials bowed deeply with ceremony as though most of them were not childhood friends or close family. This was, after all, such a day.

"Before you are properly attired for the parade, there is a matter of a token of appreciation," murmured the Royal Master of Offices as he took a chance to speak into the Queen's ear. "From the Chacano Ambassador."

"But I'm not supposed to get any prezzies," said Queen Mara, puzzled. "And I'm not wearing my cloak."

Prince Enoch looked pained. "I thought this was discussed..."

"At Elijah's birthday last year I wore nothing. That's what I'm doing this year." Mara said firmly. "You look wonderful by the way. Isn't this better than a suit?" she said, admiring his feathered mantle, leather baldrick and sandals.

"No," said Prince Enoch flatly. "Wonderful as a reminder of our heritage and remind the people who we are. Can you imagine traveling on a plane in this?"

"Then fly without clothing like a godly man," said Queen Mara. "What is this about presents?"

"Perhaps in the changing room..." Prince Enoch guided her to a conference room in the hotel, access to which was cut off by guards, which had been set up as a changing and makeup room. He explained the situation, and innocently let slip how annoyed Princess Jocasta would be to find that Mara received credit from the Chacanos for the operations in Gavinium Magnus. This brought a smile to the Queen's face, and she nodded.

Servants, painted gorgeously, bowed with exquisite grace and courtesy as the Queen, Master of Offices and attendants began to enter. Among these were Count Beroth, Colonel Horvath, Countess Olympia Hesperinus and Countess Nabal. Queen Mara allowed her ladies in waiting to remove her dancing dress and shoes. Servants moved forward to brush her hair, sponge her body clean and oil her olive skin. Her only covering was to be her golden mask, not yet on, the necklace of beaten Cornellian Empire coins inherited from Queen Adah the Liberator, and calf leather sandals. it was thus that Sofia found her...

"Your Majesty, Her Excellency the Ambassador from the Republic of Gran Chaco," said Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

User avatar
Novitera
Diplomat
 
Posts: 900
Founded: Jul 14, 2014
Anarchy

Postby Novitera » Sun May 27, 2018 6:09 pm

Padan-Aran

"Never? Not even when you were younger?" Asked Folais to Hasegawa in the limousine. They had just arrived from the airport and making their way to the Majestic Hotel. For this event the Noviterans had sent only three people. Daniel Folais, the Noviteran ambassador to New Edom, was a friendly looking man. Still sprightly and young for his position, Folais was made ambassador to the chagrin of Executor Douglas. The Administration believed that Folais's gregariousness would offset the churlish Douglas when it came to diplomacy. So Folais was given the position despite the Administrations reservations regarding his suspected ties to the Guristas of the Noviteran criminal underworld. The embassy Chief Cultural Attache was down with the flu so Parker Gladwin had been asked to do the job. The Trask Administration Senior Adviser's previous employment in the United Federation Intelligence Service made him qualified. His Roman Latin and Baran were perfect and he knew New Edom very well.

Gladwin stared out the window thinking about the Palace and how he would pull off a triumph. If all else failed he knew he would certainly be able to knock one out in a bathroom. But that was not good enough. The opportunity for another crowning achievement was now. On that list were the Executive Center, Directorate Center, United Federation Armed Services Command headquarters and UF Intelligence Service headquarters in Avantine. The Plaza de Armas in Chaco. A bathroom would be a win for sure but he needed to think bigger having worked hard to set everything up for this moment. He had secretly persuaded the Cultural Attache to take ill then convinced Douglas that he could fill two roles if he went. One, was to be cultural attache. Two, was to be a deal broker as he was if any New Edomites were looking to mix business with pleasure. Then Gladwin called in several favors from his contacts in the intelligence service to provide him with whatever information they had on the security of the Old Palace including floor plans, layouts, guards, camera locations. He had studied them meticulously late into each night before the event then completely destroyed the thumb drive they had come on having committed it to memory. Of course, the information was incomplete and Gladwin was warned that it was old too. But there was little else to go off. One way or another, Gladwin was going to defile their sacred palace with his seed. He would triumph over the Edomites and their naked Queen in the heart of their very monarchy. A smile almost played on his face but he suppressed it. The game was on.

Lastly in the limousine was Vice-Admiral Nathan Hasegawa in naval dress blues. Having fought with the Edomites in Gavinium, Novitera had sent him as a goodwill ambassador. Hasegawa was happy to do so, knowing that the trip was a reward for his excellent commanding of Noviteran naval and air forces during the conflict. Praise from the government was only natural. He thought back to the naval warfare part of the campaign and was impressed by the Edomite capability on the seas. There was admiration but also jealously for New Edom's martial tradition. Sure, Novitera's military was professional, competent and high tech. But it was run by bureaucrats in uniforms and civilian contractors and consultants, not real commanders like himself. The military headquarters had more people running around in suits than uniforms. Every one of their male dignitaries or office holders here had served in some capacity or another. While Hasegawa was beholden to the former executives who only knew the four corners of a civilian office their entire lives. For that, Hasegawa envied them. He envied the calm of Padan-Aran too. Not that Hasegawa spent much time in the Noviteran metropolises himself. When he was on leave, it was to his suburban house in Coving where he grew up.

"No, I have never been to this country." He replied to Folais who had been questioning him. "I never did much traveling until I joined the Navy. It was my plan to do so once I retire. I enjoy the peace and quiet of my home too much when on leave." Hasegawa added.

"A shame. Perhaps a retirement soon then huh? So you can get out there and enjoy what the world has to offer, without being on the job that is." Folais suggested.

Hasegawa shook his head. "I love the Second Fleet too much to do that any time soon."

There were only two Noviteran aides and 3 private security guards between them. Their guards were former Noviteran police officers and military, part of the embassy security in Fineberg. None carried more than a Glock sidearm. The embassy figured that would be tight enough. All three were hungry so before heading to their rooms got a table at the Hostillian restaurant for the cuisine was well known and popular in Novitera. "You've been very quiet Mister Gladwin." Said Folais who was glancing at the menu. Gladwin had been thinking about possibly locations to pull of his triumph, weighing the risks and prestige of each.

"Oh yes. It was a late night last night. I had to meet with several Patriot Party clients. If only we did not need their money." Gladwin remarked. When Gladwin said clients he meant corporate supporters.

"Clients...yes clients. I always found that to be the main difference between our government and theirs in my time here. The higher you are in our government, the more you have to put up with other people's shit. The more bottom feeders you have to answer to. There's a certain...brilliance...to their system." Folais commented. "So, did you get it?"

Gladwin shrugged. "It's an ongoing process and negotiation. You know how it goes. First each client wants their candidate to be the one the Party runs for election. That's always a mess. They get angry because we can't get the legislation they want pushed through so threaten to cut their campaign donations. We scare them by saying if they do that, they'll have no protection in the government. Then it goes back and forth like that." He explained vaguely.

"I think I'll have some dumplings. That sounds like it would hit the spot right now." Hasegawa stated.

Folais shook his head. "How rude of us to be discussing boring civilian government in front of our military friend. Excuse us Admiral. But yes, the dumplings sound good. Let's see if they can make it as well as they do in Avantine."

Hasegawa began rubbing his hands with some disinfectant wipes he had in his pocket which disappointed Gladwin. He had met Hasegawa as they were boarding the plane at Avantine to Fineberg and shook the Admiral's hand for the first time in a long time there. Gladwin had pleasured himself right before and not washed knowing they would do so. Then he had shook Folais's hand as well. He had carefully watched Hasegawa and Folais throughout the journey to see if he did anything to clean them. Both neither cleaned nor ate during the entire journey filling Gladwin with impatience. The only reason Gladwin was here at the table now was to gain the satisfaction of seeing them eating with hands that he had so disgustingly sullied. "Damn Hasegawa for being so fastidious!"

"Can I get one of those?" Folais asked.

"Oh, sure." Hasegawa answered handing him a wipe.

"Damn you too Folais! And damn the Edomites for not taking up the practice of handshaking. If only... I would have the better of so many of the powerful during this event." Gladwin thought despairingly.

"If you think they're good in Avantine you should try them in Wonwang." Gladwin said, his mood now ruined. He had not touched a menu at all. "I'm feeling a bit tired actually and will be retiring to my room for the moment. I'll get room service."

"Suit yourself Mister Gladwin. We'll be enjoying the atmosphere." Said Folais with a smile.
Last edited by Novitera on Sun May 27, 2018 6:18 pm, edited 2 times in total.

User avatar
Vionna-Frankenlisch
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1810
Founded: Jun 21, 2014
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Vionna-Frankenlisch » Sun May 27, 2018 6:13 pm

The Garden Restaurant

The Vionna-Frankenlischians, particularly Anne and Lord Spears, watched confusedly as the Edomites ate. They noted that despite the flamboyancy of their meals, they ate very little of what they so openly flaunted. Even while drinkingg they kept themselves to little sips. In Vionna-Frankenlisch it was common courtesy to enjoy the food and drinks on offer to the best of one's ability, sometimes even at the price of etiquette.

"Our aristocracy generally have a great deal of influence" he explained. "There are duties, in some cases symbolic but in most cases having to do with local civil authority that are required. This is not necessarily feudal, but rather the aristocracy act as agents of the state when it comes to issues such as land ownership, transference of property, local law and order and so on. Of course there is a great deal of advice and policy guidance done now by other citizens."

Princess Alice listened intently to Count Lalery's explanation of the Edomite aristocracy. Her interest and understanding surprised even herself, a girl of sixteen, and she ardently took mental notes of particular points of interest.

Lalery continued to smoke, heavy dark tobacco in his cigarillo wreathing the table. "But I'm a bit of an exception, because I am a member of the Royal Family as well through my grandmother." He studied her with a thoughtful look. "What is your interest though?"

"Well, you see," Alice replied, "Ever since receiving my position earlier this year, I've developed a much greater interest in the customs of foreign nobility. I was named Freigräfin von Junger by Kaiser Otto of Germana and the Germanan nobility to which I now belong has much different customs to those of my home country. For example, my position is unlanded but I still hold all the privileges of a regular landed Gräfin whereas in Vionna-Frankenlisch a Viscount, the landed version of a regular Count, has slightly greater privileges and, of course, responsibilities in court."

"The Edomite Church and the Apostolic Church are two different things" Archbishop Zecharias replied.

Lord Spears was quick to apologise for his mistake, "Please, my apologies, my dear Archbishop. I meant no offence. I knew I was unaccustomed to this great nation's cultural customs but it seems on the subject of faith I am totally ignorant." He chuckled merrily but humbly, a skill any Imperial nobleman or diplomat was quick to learn. "Please, might I ask how your own church is organised, particularly its hierarchy?"

Princess Caroline looked thoughtful and tapped on her chin, and then said, "It's only enforced among localized segments of the population.

"Ah, I see," Princess Elena replied, "that makes sense." She turned to Anna and smiled knowingly. "Don't the Gealic have a similar practice, Anna?"

Quick to use her partner's skills at polite laughter, Anna answered vaguely, "Aye. For certain celebrations back in Erin we do..."
New Edom wrote:Unwerth laughed. “Such hen lobsters are the Vionnans. But then, every Vionnan is half a sodomite."


Domestic Marshal of the ♔♚IMPERION COALITION♚♔
Commissar of Revolutionary Action of the INTERNATIONAL SOCIALIST CONGRESS

Embassy Service - iiWiki

User avatar
Republica De Gran Chaco
Diplomat
 
Posts: 618
Founded: Jun 29, 2015
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Republica De Gran Chaco » Sun May 27, 2018 9:23 pm

New Edom

Major Jaime Salinas followed the main delegation in trailing behind the big four with the other aides and assistants. The ambassador took the lead and stopped to bow before approaching. Jaime had heard that the Edomite queen was one for nudity and had even seen photos and videos of her wearing nothing, but he was still unprepared for the sight in real life. He felt his cheeks flush and he tried to look at the floor in front of him. The delegation halted and Sofia waited to be addressed. When she was greeted she announced, “Your Majesty, I would like to present the minister of foreign affairs for the Republic of Gran Chaco, Simón Alvarado.”

Jaime watched silently waiting for the queen to greet the foreign minister. When he had been greeted, the minister announced, “Your majesty, on behalf of the prime minister and the people of Gran Chaco, we would like to first and foremost thank you for inviting us here and for your gracious hospitality. We are honored to be among yourself and your husband the king, as well as such esteemed guests. Our two nations have had a rocky relationship in the past few years, but this has not led to any failure in communications. In fact, our diplomatic relationship has grown stronger, to the point where our young men have fought side by side and bled for one another in glorious battle in efforts to further peace and security in the region. It is because of this that we would like to present you with a token of appreciation, and let it be symbolic of the growing ties between our two nations.”

The minister motioned for the framed painting to be brought forward, and Jaime took a side step so that it could be moved to the front. The Minister took it and held it forward. It was a very old and crude painting of Christ on the cross. The minister began explaining its significance, “Early in our history, brave missionary priests infiltrated the unknown of Ayaca to witness the gospel to the indigenous people of our land. This painting dates back to 1652 and was painted by a Jesuit missionary to the Aymara people after he had established the first chapel in their lands. These historical pieces are very significant and meaningful for Chacanos, and we would like you to have this one. We hope that it will be a reminder of the shared values between our people rather than the differences.”

Jaime swallowed waiting to see the queens reactions. The old missionaries were held in high regard in the history of Chaco and he hoped that she responded well, for him this was no small gift, though an outsider might not appreciate it.
كان التيز سمين

User avatar
Ezhara
Attaché
 
Posts: 74
Founded: Jun 28, 2017
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Ezhara » Mon May 28, 2018 12:14 am

The Majestic Hotel
"Mmm, what a lovely hotel you Edomites have constructed..." Maxwell Louis said to himself as he analyzed the elegant Majestic Hotel, sitting with one leg crossed over the other & his head resting on his fist, giving off the appearance of quite a smug fellow, "An honor befitting its name, quite like my Star Hall back home." Despite giving off the air of an arrogant aristocrat, his soft voice & tone were sweet & curious, giving off a slight sense of wonder whenever he saw anything. His attire only supported the former sentiment of nobility — he wore blue, dramatic, flowing robes with long sleeves, all of which had some yellow trimming & lighter blue or yellow shades here & there. As a result of all of this clothing, Maxwell's skin was hardly ever seen, except for the top part of his face (he wore a face mask too) & his hands, both of which were remarkably pale. Overall, the man lived in sharp contrast to his good friend Theron Fotis, who usually only wore fake feathers & white trousers, going fully shirtless.

Currently though, Theron wasn't here. Instead, Maxwell had brought along two of Leonardo's musical theater students: Quon Fei & Sherry Hu. Despite both of them only being around thirteen, they were already renowned in Ezhara as some of the best voices of their generation, alongside their third friend Anastasia Tilki, who was uninvited only because there was no appropriate trio song that they could find & since Quon & Sherry had the best bond when singing & in terms of friendship. Nonetheless, the duo was not discouraged, & still went, as they had done many times before. The two shared quite a bond, although it was expressly a platonic friendship with absolutely no romantic interest, despite the signs that would make one think otherwise, like how they often spent time with one another at each other's house, sometimes just the two of them, sometimes with their friends. Still, they remained as friends, & only as close friends.

A few seconds later, Maxwell's car stopped & he got out, taking his luggage with him or from the trunk, depending on where it was stored (he only brought his phone, a charger, some toiletries, & a few day's worth of clothes, since he hoped to use a local laundromat). Moments later, the other two's car would stop, the passengers also exiting & unloading their two luggage. For a moment, Maxwell considered waiting, but then decided to go in without them. They can handle themselves, he thought to himself, That is what Ezharans are accustomed to, after all. Back in their nation, it was not uncommon to find children outside, playing together, in part due to the tight-knit communities that Ezharans often formed. There was therefore little to worry about, even with the rare case of kidnapping, although in Sherry's case, she may or may not have had knives concealed in her dress.

The only concern here was Quon, who could be a bit hotblooded, especially with his high loyalty to his friends. He was not one to take insults directed at them lightly, & Sherry was much the same way, but only for Quon. Again, another hint of a probable romantic relation, but just the same, there was most certainly none between them. Still, the two were a charming duo who had plenty of faith in each other, & they would likely grow up to be wonderful performers, especially together. Currently though, the two were only walking into the hotel, without Maxwell, who was already in queue to check both himself & them in (or if that was unnecessary, already in his room).

A bit later
After all procedures were cleared up, Quon & Sherry entered their hotel room, putting whatever luggage & whatnot away & where they should be. "You think they'll think it's kind of strange to have two kids like us up on stage?" asked Quon, entering the restroom to check it out, "Especially since we're the only kids performing, I've heard."
"Ah, don't worry about it," Sherry said, turning her head since she had been looking out the window, if there was one, "I'm sure we'll surprise them, if they doubt us."
"Mmm, fair point," Quon paused for a moment & exited the restroom, "Wanna go get something from the café downstairs?"

"Sure!" & with that, the two left for the café after leaving & locking their room — just the two of them, without Maxwell, who was probably down in a restaurant somewhere. There was a noticeable height difference between the two, with Quon being almost a head taller than the petite Sherry, despite both of them being around the same age. She could probably be reasonably confused as the boy's younger sister, or maybe step-sister, considering the differences in hair color.

While the two sauntered down the hallway, Sherry was quietly humming to herself the words of one of the songs that she knew. Someone would have to be quite close to hear it, but if they were, they would likely easily be able to expect what she would sound like on a stage — a serene voice, soft & somewhat high pitched. It was the sort of voice that would radiate hope & joy across an area with how pure & full of life it was, like wind running through blossoming cherry trees in the spring. Perhaps the enigmatic machinations of fate had, with a piece of chalk, marked out this coincidence, that Sherry ought to resemble cherry trees.

But eventually, the duo would make their way to the café, at which point Sherry would claim a seat & Quon would go up to the counter (or wherever) to buy something — likely two sandwiches & two bottles of apple juice, although it wasn't significant what he received, so long as it was edible & reasonable. Nonetheless, he would acquire whatever he bought & bring it over to where Sherry was, who was chatting with the others in the duo's friend groups with an unimportant app. "I think we should still have enough time to eat," Quon said, immediately taking a bite of whatever food item he got before momentarily choking on it after realizing that there were some people in the area who were naked. Thankfully, he got it back out of his throat & back into his mouth without making a noticeable scene — or, really, any.

"Why did you not expect that? Ezhara has the same ethics, to an extent. Plus, we've been here for an hour," Sherry said with a highly baffled expression. Quon, however, did not respond verbally, but his face flushed bright red. In an attempt to draw Sherry's attention away from himself, he took out his own phone, flipped through the playlists (& took a good few seconds to do so), & began quietly playing serene Italian opera. Sherry merely giggled — a pleasant, precious sound, much like everything else about her. "You're so adorable when embarrassed!" she teased, trying to reach over the table to plop her hand on his head, although she was too short & could not reach far enough.

She was certain that Quon was trying to do some playful flirting (he was thirteen years old, after all), but had not expected to choke while speaking. As already seen, Sherry took this momentary distraction to metaphorically turn the tides on him. While he was not embarrassed easily in most situations, he definitely had a weakness towards Sherry, who often knew exactly what to say at the right moments to destroy his chances of tomfoolery. In tandem with his slight sense of pride, his reaction to Sherry's counters was usually embarrassment, although against anyone else, he would take it as an opportunity for a verbal duel. This was another example of his special purely platonic relationship with Sherry, but back home, they did have another friend who thought otherwise. Well, that friend — an athletic, popular boy by the name of Joshua Arcenaux — thought otherwise of quite a few relationships. He was infamous for that.
Puppet of Shwe Tu Colony
Used for: Various modern-tech roleplays that don't permit magic & past tech nations.
PLEASE SEND FUTURE TELEGRAMS TO SHWE TU COLONY

User avatar
New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 23228
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Tue May 29, 2018 1:01 am

The Majestic Hotel
Padan-Aran, New Edom



Queen Mara was graceful and warm in her manner. It would be clear to foreigners that clothing rarely touched her skin, for her light olive tan was richly even all over her bare skin. Her stomach was slightly rounded in a healthy way, and she was strong yet very feminine in her build. Dark hair, held from her face by polished ebony pins, fell in raven waves down to the middle of her supple back. When he had been greeted, the minister announced, “Your majesty, on behalf of the prime minister and the people of Gran Chaco, we would like to first and foremost thank you for inviting us here and for your gracious hospitality. We are honored to be among yourself and your husband the king, as well as such esteemed guests. Our two nations have had a rocky relationship in the past few years, but this has not led to any failure in communications. In fact, our diplomatic relationship has grown stronger, to the point where our young men have fought side by side and bled for one another in glorious battle in efforts to further peace and security in the region. It is because of this that we would like to present you with a token of appreciation, and let it be symbolic of the growing ties between our two nations.”

"How well put. We were once enemies, now we are learning to be good and faithful friends. Thank you for saying so, Minister Alvarado," said Queen Mara warmly.

The minister motioned for the framed painting to be brought forward, and Jaime took a side step so that it could be moved to the front. The Minister took it and held it forward. It was a very old and crude painting of Christ on the cross. The minister began explaining its significance, “Early in our history, brave missionary priests infiltrated the unknown of Ayaca to witness the gospel to the indigenous people of our land. This painting dates back to 1652 and was painted by a Jesuit missionary to the Aymara people after he had established the first chapel in their lands. These historical pieces are very significant and meaningful for Chacanos, and we would like you to have this one. We hope that it will be a reminder of the shared values between our people rather than the differences.”

Jaime swallowed waiting to see the queens reactions. The old missionaries were held in high regard in the history of Chaco and he hoped that she responded well, for him this was no small gift, though an outsider might not appreciate it.


Queen Mara leaned forward a little, the lines and curves of her body shifting, and she cocked her head at it. "Why this is exquisite! I expected beauty, but not to be moved by the gift as I deeply am. Oh the dear martyrs and missionaries..." unshed tears glistened in her brown eyes. "To think that they gave so much so that we could all experience God's grace and mercy! It humbles you, to realize the distances they trod, the vision that they followed--of Christ's promise of redemption." she smiled at Alvarado as though he were a dear friend who had given her what she most desired rather than a minister of state doing his duty. "Thank you..." she said in a soft voice, putting a hand on his arm a moment. "This," she said to the court present, "Will be cherished and this day remembered and recorded. Mr. Alvarado, I will look greatly forward to speaking with you further. Please tell your President and Prime Minister that I could not be more happy with this gift, and I am grateful for the friendship, the comradeship, it is symbolic of. May our peoples ever be friends and share and share alike in the victories and prosperity to come."




Meanwhile, Canopus Fade, a striking man with rich dark hair wearing a three piece dove grey suit and light blue tie had asked all the entertainers to gather in one of the hotel's ballrooms, once they were all sought out, where he warmly greeted them and said, "I would like to welcome you all to Padan-Aran! My dear friends, I am Canopus Fade, the Master of Ceremonies. I wish to confirm with you the order in which the entertainments will be presented.

"The first day is of course to be the grand parade. VIPs will be moved to a grandstand by vehicle convoy and then would witness the arrival of the Queen and her Court to Martial Square in Padan where there will be a ceremony of gift giving by the Queen to charitable causes as well as public prayers. Entertainers will also provide modern style entertainment at this event. This will include:
1. Band of the Royal Airborne Corps, Royal Frankenlisch Corps of Performers (to be performed just before the gift giving ceremony, AFTER the grand review which will be accompanied by the music of the New Edomite Band of the Royal Cavalry Guards and the Foot Guards Fife and Drum Corps.)
2. Following this, all will go to the Old Palace, used only for such ceremonies. A feast of seventy five courses would take place, and then there would be a gift giving ceremony to the VIP guests. The courses each be representative of the major aristocratic families, churches and former city states of the old kingdom. There will also be some celebratory dancing and music presented by courtiers. Entertainment will follow the meal.
Entertainment Schedule:1. Blue Sky Studios: An independently-produced short film on the results of humanitarian relief efforts by the Isidium Foundation, National Council for Refugees, and Queen Mara herself in Glasstower, Harbourtown, and Arcologia
2. Quon Fei, Sherry Hu (no group name, although they are students at the Performing/Visual Arts school of Leonardo Full Course, which is also generally known as Ezhara's best school for performing arts)

The following day, no meat or fish may be consumed of any kind, only vegetable matter until sundown. The guests may have a little holiday and tour the city until then. The people of the city will be putting on plays, dances, concerts throughout the day as well as various public games and contests in honour of Her Majesty. The feast will be provided by the men of the court led by the King. A public celebration will take place, with acts of modern public entertainment to demonstrate New Edom's friendly approach to the world.
Entertainment:
1. Ilha das Tempestades Tempie "Rain Dancers" though they won't actually be able to summon rain unless blessed by a Priestess
2. Prince Lucas' musical stylings"

Fade looked up at the entertainers after reading off his list. "So that is the list! And are there any questions?"
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

Next

Advertisement

Remove ads

Return to NationStates

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: AHSCA, Britonisea, Dra-pol, Gonsh, Lillorainen, Weinam

Advertisement

Remove ads