International District [IC, TWI]

[West Suomi]

Jeyzor left Water-Laaksonen International, headed to the I.D.

He was on his way there to discuss relations with President Ricci of Atriano. The two nations’ relations had become bad after some bickering between the two presidents.

Jeyzor landed in the I.D, and headed to the taxi which was supplied for him. “Hi, are you Jari? Where would you like to go?” said the cab driver.

“Hello, yes I am Jari. Please take me to the Suomian hotel, I will be staying there for my visit here.” Jeyzor told the driver.

The cab driver drove Jeyzor to the hotel. Jeyzor entered his room, unpacked and prepared to meet Ricci at the International Building. He hoped that this meeting would improve the two nations’ relations.

[Atriano]

Bissente had already been planning a visit to the International District before he'd proposed that the two president's would speak.

"Two birds, one stone," he muttered to himself as he exited his helicopter onto the helipad. He didn't have time to visit his hotel before the meeting, so he had a member of his security detail deliver all his directly to his room.

Walking with two armed bodyguards, Bissente entered the restaurant and sat at the table he'd reserved for him and Jeyzor.

"Hopefully I remembered to notify him this is where we'd meet," he said to the bodyguard on his right, smiling. "Forgetfulness is a flaw of mine."

[West Suomi]

Jeyzor was going to the International Building’s main conference room, but passed through the restaurant to get a snack.

At the restaurant, he spotted Bissente sitting alone at a table which said, “reserved”. Jari walked to the table and said, “Hey, Bissente! It’s good to finally meet you. How are you doing?”

[Atriano]

Bissente smiled, but did not reply. He beckoned to the seat across from him, pulling a large bronze cigar holder out of his jacket.

"I see I did remember to tell you that we'd be meeting here," he grunted, stuffing an expensive cigar into his mouth and lighting it with a match. "Was worried you wouldn't know to meet me here. Have you ever had the chance to eat here?"

[West Suomi]

“Yes, I’ve been to this restaurant a couple times. When I just became president I visited here. The food is quite good here. One day on my previous visit I came here to eat breakfast, wearing my casual clothes. When I was leaving the paparazzi caught me. Funny story.” said Jeyzor, before calling a waiter to take their orders.

[Atriano]

"Story'll have to wait for another time, Mr. President. We've other things to discuss," He let out a large cloud of pungent cigar smoke roll out of his mouth. Picking up his menu and casually flipping through it he continued. "Let's cut to the chase here, can I ask what your problem with me is?"

He said this with a glare, his eyes baring down at Jeyzor. A waitress approached and Bissente silently pointed to his order on the menu, keeping his eyes on the Suomian president.

[West Suomi]

“My two issues with you are the nuclear program and the arrest of the famous street preacher. What is the reason for your nuclear program? If you aren’t set on using it to inflict pain on anyone, then go ahead. Why did you get that street preacher arrested? I’m not religious myself, but you can’t take away the civil rights of the people. As long as the preacher wasn’t harming anyone or breaking any laws, it’s fine in my books to street preach. Like a panhandler, annoying to some, but not breaking laws most of the time.” Jeyzor told Bissente. He waited for the response.

[Atriano]

Bissente laughed a hollow, yet still hearty laugh. "I want nuclear weapons for my nation for the same reason any nation does; safety. Defense. If the confederacy shows that it is able and willing to cause mass destruction to save our people no one will strike us first."

The waitress returned carrying a large platter of sausage cheese balls and sauce. Bissente plucked one and dipped into the sauce, popping it into his mouth as he continued speaking.

"I'm honestly shocked at how much I've been criticized for this decision. What makes it any different than another isle building up a colossal military force? The Western Isles aren't very big, any army with enough manpower could completely demolish another nation around here," he said while chewing. "Which brings me to a proposition I have, if you are interested to hear it."

[West Suomi]

“Fair enough, but I personally don’t believe in using violence to protect yourself. But that’s just me. You can disagree, it’s up to you. You see, us in West Suomi have chosen to stay pacifist. Nations just don’t like nuclear weapons for the same reason as us. They also see it as a threat to the prosperity of The Isles, if the weapons are to be used. ”

“By the way, what is your proposition? If it involves nuclear weapons, I’m sorry but I won’t accept. If it involves join-military training, yes. West Suomi still has a military. But it is used only in worst-case scenarios.” argued Jeyzor.

Jeyzor then thought a hearty bite out of his beef burger.

[Atriano]

Bissente laughed, and then crushed out his cigar on the table. "My proposition is much smaller than that, in fact it doesn't involve politics at all. I just wanted to ask if you'd be interested in coming to Atriano with me after this meeting has concluded."

"It wouldn't be anything official mind, just a quick getaway. Mend our relations. I will be the first to admit I do have a bit of a temper, might've taken things too far recently with you. It's never too late to say sorry, though, is it? I plan to host a large party at my chateau soon and I'd like to invite many politicians to come. You're my first invitation."

[West Suomi]

“No worries. One thing to know about me is that I’m very forgiving. That’s a great idea, thank you. I’ll be sure to come.” replied Jeyzor.

Wow! He got invited to a party in Atriano, and the first invite too.

[Queste]

A large silver truck, with a rumbling engine fit for a semi, pulls up to the front of the International building. Colonel Winter Nyte, a 195 centimeter tall woman with silvery hair down to her shoulders, steps out of the back in her full dark grey military uniform. She slips on her peaked cap and marches into the building with restrained curiosity. An interesting district, certainly, but no place for somebody like her. Someone like Major Yulia, soft spoken and polite, is certainly better suited to this... city of green and noise.

Scowling softly, the Colonel enters the building professionally with her chin up, glancing around the neutral grounds and deciding to make her way to the plaza and 'enjoy the sights,' as well as 'make a good impression.' The Colonel almost blushes at the treacherous thoughts of her Brigadier's grating voice. She is not a deserter, and nobody can hear her thoughts, so she assures herself she need not worry.

Blinking, the Colonel gets her thoughts back on track as she arrives to the plaza, silently and professionally enjoying the view. Nothing to do just yet, no missions, no surveillance... What is a girl to do with so much time?

[Funce]

A sleek black car pulled up to the International Building’s entrance where Ambassador Austin Woody stepped out and straightened his tuxedo. He took a few steps before the car drove away. Austin peered around, looking to the left and right of the large building as the wind tugged at his curly black hair and cars zoomed behind him, it reminded him of home back in Funcina. The day was warm, but not hot, clouds dotted the sky as busy citizens maneuvered their way through the city, busy with their lives. Without delaying any longer, he pushed open the doors of the building and stepped inside.

His dress shoes echoed slightly as he stepped on the marble floor in the large plaza. His emerald green eyes scanned the room where he spotted Colonel Winter Nyte in her grey military uniform. It was almost surprising seeing someone like her here in this district, standing there nonchalantly. Austin stepped up to her and smiled, “quite the place, isn’t it?”.

[Queste]

The Colonel looks over to the man with a disapproving stare, her shimmering blue eyes icy and distrustful. Her judging gaze moves to inspect his outfit, then meets his own gaze. In response to the question, she nods quickly, keeping her stance guarded and professional, as if under scrutiny at all times.

"Is it?" She asks carefully, her Questean accent mostly tamed. "I see a city of unneeded luxury and noise."

[Ainslie]

"Not when you've been here for I don't know how many months - just becomes one long coffee high", Hamish carelessly replied. "Been trying to get out of here for ages..."

[Socialistic Republic of America]

A tall, fierce woman with long black hair opens the door and confidently walks to the Chair. The other members of the Socialist Party stand and give the three-finger salute as she walks through the Aisle. She sits in her desk, with a name plate that reads, "Chairwoman Elisa Krovan". She is the third member of the Krovan family, and leads the SRA with an iron but compassionate fist. The Krovans revived Royan socialism and brought prosperity to a corrupt nation.

[Samudera]

"Ha, coffee. You should try tea sometimes," Antares said jokingly to Hamish. He then noticed three new delegates, wondering which nation they represent.

"Welcome to the International District. I'm Farhan Antares, Samuderan delegate here," he said, then shook their hands.

[Funce]

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment before remembering the cultural differences between Capitalist Funce and Socialist Queste. “Many citizens like a wide variety of luxuries, keeps them happy and occupied.”

[Queste]

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment before remembering the cultural differences between Capitalist Funce and Socialist Queste. “Many citizens like a wide variety of luxuries, keeps them happy and occupied.”

The Colonel hummed, then shut her eyes. "Keeps them distracted. Unfocused. There is no point in needless luxury if there are those in the country not capable of living at all."

She sighed, moving her arms behind her back and looking to the Ambassador with a more gentle gaze. "But I was not to come here and argue. That is the delegate's job, hm? Colonel Nyte, of the Imperial Ground Force of Queste."

[Ainslie]

"Apologies for the poor welcome. I am Hamish Dyson, the Deputy Ahnslen ambassador to TWI, or more informally known as the Ahnslen ID watchman..."

[Ohigano]

Ohigano's leader has arrived. the Republic of Ohigano claims the Ohiganoan (Formerly Gael peninsula) The President of Ohigano is Ruperto Galtieri and he requests to join the international community

[Artamaopia]

Viktorya Melos, daughter of Artamaopia's glorious leader and rightful dictator. Walked towards the building, immediately demanding attention and silence. Her cold eyes glaring at anyone who stared for longer than customary. "Greetings to the International Committee, My father is all knowing and at a higher spiritual capacity than us, so his name must never be spoken or written; however, he has recently allowed the opening of borders both geographically and diplomatically. I look forward to all opportunities others may offer to Artamaopia. Thank you." She spoke quickly and sternly.

[Segentova]

The delegation had just arived the previous day. Lead by the king, they were to meet at 12:00 in the offices of the Segentovan delegation.
King Francis sat down behind the desk, the apointee, Jacqline Bennet sitting opposite him.
Francis, known to be a mild-mannered man and soft spoken man was at the moment stressed out.
Jacqline Clegget, who was the new segentovan delegate. A 30 year old Native of Andouze, she was the daughter of Jean-Baptiste Clegget, lawyer and shareholder in Garland Clegget Cruse, just about the biggest law-firm in the isles, she tought to herself.
She tried not to stare at the king.
He slammed his fist into the table.
-"What the fuck do you mean, Pierre?! The Magarati was suppsed to be there tpday?! Get a fucking hold of your fucking office! I can't have my damn Prime Minister fucking up like this!"
There was a pause, the king scratched his temple, and looked Jackline square in the eyes.
-"You, fix this! You're not just representing ME, you're in charge of representing our country. good luck, don't fuck it up!
He spun his chair around toward the window overlooking the main driveway.
-"Yes Pierre, i told her... ''don't fuck up''... just have Chèrefber take care of it, he'll know what to say to get those slant-eyes on our good side.
He called over an aide.
-"Cofee please. With a good shot of rum, just how i like it."
At this point Jackline couldn't help ut intject.
-"Your majesty, you shouldn't be drinking at this moment!"
With a stare that almost peirced her soul he leaned forward, pressing his elbows into the hardwood desk, ic was almost creaking.
-"Young lady, i find it disturbing you would criticize your monarch, who is clearly under stress."
The aide placed the cofee on the table, King Francis slowly lifted the thermal mug up to his face and took a sip, not breaking eye-contact with the woman sitting on the other side of the table, he reclined into the chair.
-"This office will be yours, young lady, I and all of Segentova will be watching you..."
his voice was beginning to soften up, maybe it was the alcohol? Maybe he wasn't the friendly father figure everyone believed him to be, and just a devious lunatic.
Either way, he got up of the chair, mug in hand.
-"Follow me, get your stuff"
Clapping his hand to his leg, almost like he was calling over a dog.
They went to sit outside the general assembly, listening to the other delegates debating, ranting, raving and even screaming, surrounded by delegates.
The king finished drinking his "coffee", turned his head toward jackline and said.
-"You've already rehersed this, so i expect you to follow me in, get on the podium and let me hold my short speech. At once these lunatics are done dabating. Is that understood?"
Right, THEY were the lunatics, not the politicians...
She smiled and said.
-"Yes, your majesty."
The king smiled, he looked satisfyed with what he had been presented with.

[Ainslie]

"Welcome to the district", Hamish said as he acknowledged the new delegation from his office chair.

[Kaldgart]

The Graf Westermark, who was what Anglophones would call an Earl, had arrived in the district late the previous evening, but the long travel and advancing dusk had persuaded him to take a supper and then retire to a hotel suite. It was not until early the next morning that he arrived at the International Building, and what he saw had him in stitches.

The building itself was magnificent, modern and comfortable, but it was practically crammed full of Kings, Queens, Emperors, Presidents and Generallisimos, and the contrast could not be greater. For every huddle of serious-looking men and women discussing the future of their nations in muted, grave tones, or airily tossing around trade deals and political favours over coffee, there was someone stamping their feet in the central plaza and demanding their great nation be recognised. "A lot of big fish fresh from their small ponds and plopped into the ocean..." he thought to himself. He had no such airs and was famously, in Kaldgart at least, a retiring and cautious man who ambitions appeared to be 'not dying' and also 'not having his tenants and subjects die', for which he was commended by many and condemned by a few.

Westermark, a thin man with lengthy grey moustaches and a clean-shaven jaw, the bags under his eyes a combination of weariness and age, had the upright and haughty bearing of a noble of Kaldgart, as well as the outlandish garb to match - he wore black trousers, a white shirt with a gray tweed waistcoat, and over it a black velvet capelet that fell halfway down his back. At his belt was a scabbard for a long knife, empty out of deference to the local authorities, and a few sundry pouches, whilst on his head was crammed a muffin hat in black with silver thread picking out an elaborate pattern around the brim, the black bag of it flopping down the back of his close-cropped head.

This odd mix of modern and ancient was the closest most Kaldgarter nobles could get to adopting sane or contemporary dress, and Westermark was fully aware that it placed him at odds with the suit-wearing elite of many other nations, but his outfit was muted enough to pass in comparison to some of the battle-armoured warhawks and robe-wearing eccentrics of other lands.

Having carefully avoided becoming entangled in Koenig Peter der Grosse's Wars of Authority of two years hence, Westermark had retained his noble title and lands without actually having taken up arms, and as a result his lands had suffered far less than other areas of Kaldgart. He had been sent, whether as reward or punishment he was unsure, to enlist foreign aid by way of investment and trade deals, with a view to stabilising a war-torn, bloodied and divided nation that was only slowly learning to accept the authority of its battle king.

Consequently, Westermark and his two retainers trudged up to the office of Hamish Dyson, Deputy Ambassador of Ahnslen to the TWI. Leaving the two followers to lounge outside he knocked on the door and introduced himself, in thickly-accented English with only a few grammatical oddities that hinted to his nation's Germanic character.

"Good morning to you. I am the Earl Westermark of the Kingdom Kaldgart. I have been instructed by my liege, King Peter the Great" - and here he managed to imbue 'great' with just enough irony that he could deny it if Dyson ever mentioned it in company - "to come here and represent our Fatherland and his economic needs on the international stage. He did not give specific instructions on how to achieve this financial fait accompli, however, and because I am being reliably informed you are a name to know here, I thought I would introduce myself."