GDRC: Red Eye's Cave [Open to All]

[Nova Orontes]

[ GDRC: Cazala d'Pintalo| Red Eye's Cave | Stock Exchange | GDFO ]

Welcome to Red Eye's Cave, friend.

We are more than a high scale bar, located in the International District of Nova Orontes. We are a bar to caters to the leadership and elite of the world. Here, you can find ambassadors, representatives, and even kríerlords, all people of great stature with respect to their home states. They come to participate in the world of the GDRC, but not all public life in Nova Orontes is formal. Sometimes, even the elite must wind down. And, to do that, they come to Red Eye's Cave.

We do not always talk business here. Sometimes we talk pleasure. In fact, pleasure is our trade, and not just in the form of alcoholic intoxication. One can buy psychedelics and other drugs, as well as the pleasures of the flesh, regardless of your gender and preferences. Some say that there is even non-human pleasures, for those that come from non-human stock and those who do alike. Not all of these activities are legal in the city-state, but for the elite who pass through Red Eye's Cave the Purple Republic gives a pass.

Join us, elite traveler, regardless of where you hail. You are bound to meet someone of importance here.

Order your first drink from our bartender, Mr. Spectacle. He may look like an ordinary human to you, but the truth is that he is much more complex than that. Get to know him, or don't. He will at least impress you with the wide range of cocktails he is accustomed to making.

Take a seat and wait for someone to approach you or meet with someone you've already made plans with, whatever is to your liking. One way or another, we are more than sure that you will enjoy your stay.


RULES
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1. All conversation must be in-character.
2. The character can be the same as the GDRC thread, if applicable. We don't have to assume simultaneity or linearity in time.

ABOUT THE INTERNATIONAL DISTRICT
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From the tourism board's main entry:

The international district is the ultimate tourist destination and is known for its boundless skyscrapers that reach far into the crowds. Hotels lack the human touch, as AI-driven robots perform most of the hotel staff functions. Most of the city's corporate headquarters are located here, the skies painted with their vibrant flourecent logos. Foods of all nations, music from all corners of the region, and entertainment that encompasses the breadth of Greater Dienstad are all found at the International District. You can hardly walk a street without seeing advertisements play against the glass windows of the buildings, and you'd have to be indoors to enjoy the beauty of silence.

MEET YOUR BARTENDER
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Mr. Spectacle is our main bartender at Red Eye's Cave, although you will see others as the bar gets busier. Want to know more about him? Approach him for a drink and start a conversation.

[The Macabees]

Andro Kilomen approached the bartender, whose nametag read Mr. Spectacle. The man wore a golden rimmed monocle on his right eye, a thin golden chain extending from one end to the front pocket of his black vest. Muscular, tall, and young, this Mr. Spectacle was not your average bartender in Nova Orontes. His uniqueness was not a matter of his physical characteristics, as those things are common to most bartenders. After all, no one wants to be served viska by a fat man or an ugly woman. What gave Mr. Spectacle his unusual character was his clothing, which mimicked the old fashion. Every other bar in the city that Andro had visited took on the theme of the current zeitgeist, with blue or green hair gelled into a mohawk or some such, tinted contacts or cyber inserts, and the other accouterments of the post-modern.

Smiling, the bartender said, "What can I pour you, Your Excellency?"

"You know who I am?" asked Andro, somewhat taken aback. "What I do?"

Smiling even wider now, Mr. Spectacle answered, "Quite so, Mr. Kilomen. I know most of the guests who walk into this establishment. In fact, I would go far as to say that if I do not know you then you do not belong in Red Eye's Cave. You, however, most obviously belong, for you are Kríerlord Andro Kilomen, a member of His Imperial Majesty Fedor I 's council. I ask you the privilege to serve you a drink."

Andro glanced at the bottles on the wall, sitting on shelves multiple stories high and many reachable only by ladder, but he already knew what he wanted. "Do you have viska?"

Mr. Spectacle scoffed and turned around, walking to grab a bottle from one of the shelves, then a small glass, until finally coming back to the part of the bar where the kríerlord sat. He twisted off the cap with cork attached, an Autensheno 18. Andro was impressed. The bartender poured a solid dram and a half, and then handed the glass over to his guest. He said, "You already know what is in it, Mr. Kilomen."

"That I do," said Andro, who was now grinning himself. "I'll have to come back more often."

"That you do," replied Mr. Spectacle. Then, "I will leave you be, Your Excellency. No doubt there are other better gentlemen than I who are keen to speak to you, and vice versa."

Nodding, Andro walked not too far to a small, tall table surrounded by three tall chairs. He sat down to enjoy his drink.

[Delmonte]

Corrino Di Canossa and Cardinal Terremino entered the well lit bar and glanced around. Terremino's clerical attendants were still with him. He turned to face them.

"Go in Christ, brothers." He said, morosely, "I must enter this den of iniquity without you and face the trials like our Lord Christ was tried in the desert!"

The monks nodded and left their master.

"Trials like Jesus. Nice touch." Corrino muttered under his breath.

"Thanks." the 58 year old Cardinal replied gruffly. "It's a shame too. Looking around there's hardly any iniquity to be had here. I mean, I don't see cocaine on any of the surfaces and I don't think any of these women are prostitutes!"

"A shameful dearth of vice, to be sure. I'll have to make something up for my wife to complain about. She can barely compete with the other Women of Quality as it is, what with my work giving me so little time for alcoholism and whoring."

"Think about this from my perspective. I was supporting some of the highest paid escorts back in the Church District in Delmonte. No doubt my absence is being felt painfully by the local industry!"

"Indeed, the local economy!"

"They'll have to tighten the belt! If we can't find something for me here I don't know what I'll do."

"I know, I've already told the altar boys at San Jiamatta to wear suspenders as a precaution."

"I don't fuck little boys, Corri." The Cardinal hissed under his breath.

"Well, now would be a piss poor time to start! Look, there's Andro. Let's sit with him."

"There's nothing there, Corri! I'm a breast man! They have no bosom to speak of!" the Cardinal continued whispering until they came within earshot of Andro.

"Andro Kilomen, I presume!" Corrino beamed "I'm Corrino Di Canossa; Cesare's younger brother. He's the Doge and all. I'm like a much less powerful, much more handsome version of him. This here is Cardinal Terremino; he's primarily concerned with ensuring that the Catholic Church remains firmly in atheist hands, but he's doing a stint here to aid the Republic diplomatically. He's a good sport like that."

Terremino shot him a glare. "He's joking, of course. I believe in God. Obviously. Or else all of this would seem quite absurd." He gestured at his outfit, "Charmed, I'm sure."

"Mind if we sit?" Corrino tried one of the chairs. "Oh that one is wobbly. Let's just get that chair out of here. Three chairs is sufficient. Ah, look, these other two chairs are fine. We'll use these."

He moved the unnecessary chair to another table. He and Terremino sat, keeping an eye out for any cocaine they may have missed or any woman who looked particularly like a whore.

"This sure is something, isn't it? A new place, a new thing. It's good to have friends in new places, don't you think?" Corrino said, still smiling.

Cardinal Terremino completed his thought. "What can the Most Serene Republic do to be your friend? What can we do?"

[The Macabees]

Andro eyed the two men who had approached him for a moment, but a heartbeat later he nodded his head at them and said, "It's good to have friends in all places, I think. As for what you could do to be my friend..." he considered, as he signaled for the bartender, Mr. Spectacle, to send one of his attendants over to the table. "Well, I suppose you can start by joining me for a drink. I'd like to think that all lasting friendships begin at the bottom of a glass."

That sounded a tad more alcoholic than he meant it to, alas the words were already out of his mouth.

"While we wait," continued Andro, who just then finished his last gulp of viska, "allow me to thank you for your words in the council chambers earlier. As I mentioned then, I agree with you that separating the issue of PMC war criminals and an international police force seems likes the wisest course. However, I simply do not see the PMC matter being adequately solved without a body capable of bringing said war criminals to justice. And anybody built on the voluntary consensus of states will break down the second that voluntary consensus ends, which will be when it's within the interests of one state or another to protect those same PMCs. I would rather let that strand of the discussion die for the moment, until a more opportune one arises, because a weak solution will be worse than no solution. Imagine if a weak solution passes and leads the council to believe that any measure will be equally as weak. Then we are stuck with ineffective institutions. What a start to the Greater Díenstad Regional Council that would be."

He shook his head, then added, "Anyway, what are your thoughts on all of this?"

Just then, a waiter came to take their orders. Andro, of course, asked for another glass of viska.

[Delmonte]

Corrino nodded. "I'll have a Chardonnay. If you have something from Marquesan or The Black Plains that would be great."

"I'll have a Delmontese Pinot Noir. Something from Iena if you have it, if not anything from Delmonte will do." Terremino shot Corrino a judgmental look.

"I like all wine. I'm not patriotic, I know." Corrino gave a mock shrug and turned his attention back to Andro. "Plus, I find that wine produced in nations with human rights abuses just has a certain unique flavor. Speaking of abuses... I understand your concern, but I think we only want nations who will cooperate voluntarily. I assure you, if an international police agency tried to investigate Delmonte against our will, we could frustrate them. As I'm sure you could in your country. It would not be difficult for the Delmontese Special Police to put up road blocks. You want buy-in. And I have an idea as to how you can get it..."

The waiter returned. Corrino went quiet

"Iena Pinot and a Plainsian Chardonnay."

"You had a Iena? What year?"

"Eighty-five."

"That's actually quite impressive. Any left?"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't put it away." The waiter nodded and left. "This is incredible." Terremino went on, "They must have snagged one of the last bottles of eighty-five..."

Corrino raised his eyebrows.

"Are you done? As I was saying, the pitch of this international police force is political expediency. That's certainly how Delmonte would use it. Why try popular criminals at home when you can just wash your hands of it? Have these Dienstadi Police track them down, arrest them, try them, et cetera. It's not you or me doing it. It's foreigners. Direct your aggression at them, you see what I mean?"

"And it's so easy to justify something being an international crime if you want to..." Cardinal Terremino continued for him, "Maybe the gun was made with internationally sourced components, money was wired through an international bank... you see where I'm going."

"Now, this would obviously involve a compromise where these Dienstadi Policemen would only take on cases referred to them voluntarily by member nations. But there's another Delmontese saying that a cat with his paw in the door is a cat in the house."

"...Again..." Cardinal Terremino interjected as he polished off his glass of red wine, "It sounds substantially better in the native tongue, but what Corrino is trying to say is once you've got a foot in the door it's easier to expand what you do. So do what you need to do, say what you need to say to get these policemen founded. Even if it's voluntary, even if it's among limited nations, even if they can only take what cases are referred to them by member nations' governments. Yes, it would make them less powerful. But it would get them to exist. And existent things are much more powerful than nonexistent things."

"Plus, if our nations are early adopters we get to have more influence over the creation of the police and the direction they take. You've got a little bit left there, Eminence. Let's toast now that we all have one, shall we? To existent things."

The Delmontese raised their glasses ever so slightly.

[The Macabees]

Andro mulled over the words of the Delmontian noble and cardinal. When the waiter returned with another glass of viska, he raised it in a toast and took a small sip, savoring the taste of the amber-colored liquor. "To existent things," he said, without quite knowing what that meant.

"I cannot say I agree, however," he added when the waiter was a distance away. "Ineffective things can very well be worse than non-existent things. There are entire countries where having no government is better than having a terribly inefficient government, where chaos reigns in both but the extortionist exist in the latter. Likewise, an ineffective police force can be worse than having no police force — ask the indigenous in Holy Panooly whether they'd prefer Templeton's policemen to no policemen at all, and I doubt you'd get very many who'd agree. Not to say that whatever police institution the GDRC comes up with will be evil, extortionist, and oppressive, but bad qualities can manifest in other ways. It could be shaped to benefit some nations over others. And if that's the case then there might not be an opportunity to build momentum toward a better evolution, it might instead remain a quagmire or even devolve."

"Neither do I think that this police force should be built to cater to countries looking to resign culpability for bringing criminals to justice," continued Andro. "I am not interested in supporting any measure that fuels and embeds nihilism into this organization. That would kill this whole project before it even started. The GDRC should represent something greater than our individual nations. It should represent a shared future, a shared project toward that future. Not a cesspool."

Placing the glass back on the table, he threw up his hands. "It's no use talking to me about this. At the moment, I have no opinion that's going to carry the conversation forward. Others can determine the shape of a police force, if any police force. It's not something the Golden Throne can contribute to, anyway. Our local police forces have their own interests and leadership, enjoy autonomies and other liberties, and are not built to be centrally directed by bureaucrats who have absolutely no idea about the unique, individual situations city-by-city, neighborhood-by-neighborhood."

[Delmonte]

"Look." Corrino replied gamingly, "If that's how you feel all you have to do is not make any concessions on the matter of the police force and let nature take its course and have it fail. If you think that's preferable to concessions that would make it exist sooner rather than later, then that is fine. As for your comments on nihilism I really must object. I was giving you an example of what works in Delmonte. Different people require different governance and while nihilism is not what we should inspire to, neither is imperialism."

"The reality is, as I'm sure you're finding..." Cardinal Terremino went on in a slightly more polite tone, "That different nations have very different ideas of what constitutes progress, regress, and so on. You talk about a 'shared future' but the way you speak it sounds more like what you envision is a Golden Throne future that it is so kind to share with the rest of us and we ought to be grateful. That's sort of how it's coming across. You want shared future but don't seem willing to share what that future should be."

"We'll leave you as you seem to want to be alone at this point... You have our support for the PMC Tribunal. And for the police force for what it matters."

[Castille de Italia]

Back in Marais Besançon, Saturdays were always for the wives, but Fridays were always for the girlfriends. However here in Nova Orontes, Marie had yet to arrive, instead taking care of wifely and motherly duties as she diligently packed the Litheau household up from their Gallier Avenue mansion for a luxury villa on the island of Coronado that accompanied the Castillian mission. Meanwhile, Chet had secretly arranged for a beachfront flat on the coastline of Ringo for his mistress, the luscious, insatiable Zsuzsanna Petrovna, an actress born in Yaroslavl, famous in many Castillian elite social circles. That was who accompanied him on his arm tonight, and who would for many a night until Marie and the children finally settled in Coronado. The day had been long and arduous for him, and normally while he would take time to unwind in the comfort of Zsu and a glass of Grandevie '32, instead he grew tired of her reluctance to attend a social club for "boring politicians and bureaucrats", as Zsu has so elegantly put it. Clearly uninterested as they walked in, Zsu went to a far table in the center of the club alone, while Chet made his way to the bar. This Friday night might end up being more for exchanges of gentlemanly conversation rather than entertaining women.

"Ah, Mister Litheau of the Castillian Federation," the man behind the counter said as he flashed a sly grin while cleaning a glass. "Another welcome addition to Red Eye's Cave."

"I would assume that it's a requirement for your line of work to know who's who, is it not?" replied Chet inquisitively. The man did not answer, instead turning behind him and pouring a drink, before turning back around and handing it to him. "Impériale-boisson '17, bottled in Castillia under the reign of Empress Dacia I. I save this one special for Castillian gentlemen such as yourself, Mister Litheau," the bartender said, tapping his nametag. "My name is Mister Spectacle, always at your service. To you, to your beautiful but incredibly bored date across the room, and to the many fine gentlemen and women that are privileged enough to patronize Red Eye's Cave."

Chet took a sip from the glass, nodding in approval of the fine red wine. "Thank you Mister Spectacle. I must say, you certainly know your drinks, especially Castillian." He leaned in closer across the bar to Mr. Spectacle. "As you probably know, I used to be the most powerful man in Marais Besançon. I could get my hands on anything. But Impériale-boisson '17, good luck. How'd you get it in your stock?" Chet inquired.

"I'm afraid that's a secret, Mister Litheau," Spectacle replied. "But it's one that may be revealed soon enough, along with many others."

Chet stood up from the barstool, raised his glass to Spectacle before grabbing another for Zsu and made his way back to her. Across the room at tables were the rich and powerful of Greater Dienstad. Kríerlord Andro Kilomen caught his eye. While in the chamber of the GDRC some rhetoric was exchanged, Chet was anxious to be able to converse socially with a Kríerlord, but for now he was preoccupied with the Delmontese, who were always known for lively conversation. Instead, he would wait at his table with Zsu, order a nice meal for the both of them, and see if anyone would join them for the night.

[The Macabees]

"No, no, I apologize," said Andro, who realized then that he sounded more like an angry drunk than direct representative of His Imperial Majesty Fedor I. "Please, stay. I have questions for you."

"Regarding PMCs and police forces, let's just that the former is on the backburner and the latter I'll let others resolve," he added with regards to what they had been talking about. "As for my vision of our shared future, or the one I represent at least, that is absolutely something I would love to share. First, let me clarify that by nihilism I mean the rejection of universalistic principles or, more practically, principles that speak a higher cause than our own individual causes. Second, the Golden Throne's vision of the ideal Greater Díenstad is not one that conforms to the internal ideology of the Golden Throne. All the opposite, it must transcend the Golden Throne as it does all other nations. This would be an easier point to make if the region suffered from an existential crisis, like an invasion by an outside force. But, that is unlikely to happen. If it did, however, then we would have a common vision that transcends individual needs. In lieu of existential crisis, there must be something else, some other impetus, another collective reward worth sacrificing for. You're right that perhaps the details of that vision need fleshing out, but I think the discovery of what it ought to be would be a worthwhile endeavor."

Somewhat wistfully, he concluded, "I thought that working toward a framework toward the mutual respect of our sovereignty would be a good start. And arresting the means of countries to hide behind the PMC curtain when waging war on others would help toward exactly that. There's no other country that would benefit least from such a policy than the Golden Throne. Tarn, after all, belongs to us."

He spun the glass of viska around on the table, fidgeting with it. "Enough of me boring you with that. I have a question for you two. What value do you see in the GDRC? What purpose? And what opportunities for gain?"

[Mokastana]

Walking into the Red Eye's Cave was a Mokan Surian woman with a mild olive complexion, long curly dark hair, an elegant black and gold dress that flirted with immodesty. Like any true wealthy Surian woman, her jewelry was as loud as it was expensive. A large necklace, studded with precious stones, complete with hair-thin gold chains, rested on her chest, highlighting her more feminine features. Topping her off was the design of an elegant flower, made of a white gold palladium stem and the petals adorned with crushed ruby. She had a face and body that looked almost familiar, especially for those familiar with the original advertising of Montana Incorporated's recreational lines of products 10 years ago. This was Jasmine Montana, former model and former lobbyist, daughter of Antonio Montana, cousin to Arianna Lomengo, and current socialite looking for opportunities, business or otherwise. Nova Orontes was growing, and Montana Incorporated wanted to get in their quickly. Officially, the city fell under Arianna's territory, but Jasmine was tired of letting her cousin take the spotlight. Besides, Arianna was busy in the Timocratic Republic with her sailor, Jasmine was free to flirt with whomever she pleased.

She eyed the Kríerlord and his Delmotese guests. Easily the most powerful men the room at the moment, ones she would certainly have to get acquainted with before the night was over. Yet, it wouldn't be proper to imminently rush to their table. She was older, wiser, she knew men like the Kríerlord knew their power, it was better to approach others first, that way if anything with the Kríerlord failed, the others didn't feel like consolidation prizes. She could work her way up.

She spotted a handsome Castillian at a table with his date. Normally such a couple would fall off her radar, but you were only in this bar if you were someone. Plus, they had open seats at their table, perhaps they would be open to a chat.

First though, a quick trip the bathroom to powder her nose, followed by a smile and credit card to Mr. Spectacle, and she was ready to socialize. She approached the table with the Castillian, carrying a glass of wine whose price rivaled a month's rent in some lesser parts of the world.

"It seems the night is just getting started, may I join you two for some company?" She said smiling at both Mr. Litheau and Zsu.

[Delmonte]

“Well…” Corrino began as he returned to his seat, “I can tell you why we are here, certainly. The foremost diplomatic goal of il Serenissimo is always to expand Delmontese trading opportunities which includes expanding the Delmontese entrepot network. After that, our goal is to improve the ability for Delmontese businesses to invest in other countries in the region and vice versa. And finally we’d like to ensure peace and stability in the region and all those nice things. My friend Cardinal Terremino is here to assist me and also to ensure that the Archdiocese of Delmonte gets is cut of everything I just mentioned.”

“As it so happens, shepherding the faithful masses to the Lord is a costly pursuit.” The cardinal mused as he swirled his glass of red wine around, “Our efforts will be repaid in heaven.”

“But they collect the interest and origination fee here on Earth.” Corrino replied smugly.

Terremino chuckled. “Non-refundable, of course, I’m sure you understand. But yes, the whole vow of poverty thing never really caught on in the Delmontese church. We have an enduring understanding with His Holiness as well as Holy Mother Church.”

“You see, this brings me back to how different nations behave very differently. The idea of separation of Church and State is a puzzling one to the Delmontese. The Church and State apparatuses have been comingled for well over a thousand years. We often tap high ranking clerics for ministerial positions because they are less liable to have loyalty to one family than a noble such as myself would. And besides, it’s not like the Church can sway the masses to vote a certain way because they can’t vote.”

“Which, in a roundabout way, brings us to the last thing we want or rather do not want.” Terremino interjected, “We want Delmontese institutions preserved. As they have been for thousands of years. It’s a precarious balance. External factors can destabilize it. We want to avoid that.”

[Castille de Italia]

-snip- "It seems the night is just getting started, may I join you two for some company?" She said smiling at both Mr. Litheau and Zsu.

Chet grinned at the Mokan before him. Zsu's previous behavior had him believing that the night would be relegated to discussing gentlemanly manners, but Red Eye's Cave continued throwing surprises at him. "Of course, have a seat please," Chet said as he graciously waived his arm towards an open spot opposite of him and on Zsu's right.

"I trust that like most of us, this is your first time at Red Eye's? This is quite the imp-"

Zsu had given him a jab in the abdomen with her finger, before whispering something in his ear. Chet nodded to his date and then turned back to the Mokan woman. "My date has reminded me that I have again gotten ahead of myself. deLesseps Leasse Litheau, but you can call me Chet. This is my good friend Zsuzsanna Petrovna. You might know her from the movies and television, especially L'homme-armé dans-les Plaines, do you not? I'm afraid I'm to sure whether Castillian cinema is quite popular with our Mokan friends, but surely would know her when she was acting in her native Yaroslavl in L'ironie du Destin, the Irony of Fate?"

He motioned for a nearby waiter to come to the table. "Allow me to buy you your meal, anything on the menu."

He turned to the waiter who now hovered over him eagerly. "Des coupe centrale de boeuf filet," he spoke in native Castillian, pointing for the tenderloin with marchard de vin. He folded the menu and handed it to the waiter, who moved on to Zsu. "Poulet-rochambeau," she told the waiter albeit in a thick slavic accent, also folding the menu and handing it to him.

Chet looked to the Mokan. "Please, anything you would like," he told her. " And please do tell me, since I know you're not the PUF representative to the GDRC, what are you doing here at Red Eye's Cave?"

[Mokastana]

x

Jasmine smiled and thanked the Castillian for a chance to sit with them. Taking a seat she grinned at Zsu’s jab and reminder, before taking note of his name and the name of his, probably, mistress. Films were not one of Jasmine’s greatest pastimes, but exploring foreign cultures was considered a southern sign of success. After all, if you were rich enough to take time to watch silly foreign films while adorned in fancy jewels, then you had to be doing something right.

“I am afraid I do not speak Castillian, most of my foreign film enjoyment ‘as to be done with subtitles, do you know the Mokan name of that film? Although I do believe I did see the Irony of Fate, but so little of Yaroslavian culture makes it north of the border these days.” Unlike her cousin Arianna, Jasmine had worked hard to lose the Mokan accent when speaking in other languages, and her slower cadence and focus on enunciation probably still highlighted her effort more than she meant it to.

As the waiter came by, Jasmine took advantage of the gentlemen’s offer and ordered the same thing as Zsuzsanna. “It seems you 'ave quite good tastes Senora Petrovna. As for the PUF representative, no, I would not want to be seen with that stuffy socialist bureaucrat. I represent... other Mokan interests. Although I fear if I am no longer recognized among the elites, the years 'ave not been kind to me.” She said with a playful chuckle, “Forgive me, I am Jasmine de Montana y Lomengo-Gasteiz, second daughter of Antiono de Montana y Cortez, or Antonio Montana, as the foreign press refers to 'im. So you can probably guess my business interests in this fine city, but for tonight, I am enjoying company, drinks, and getting to know the many faces representing the region around me.”

[The Macabees]

...

Andro listened attentively as the two Delmontese talked. He nodded as they described their objectives and ambitions. Naturally, the Macabéan had a penchant for learning about others' cultures and ways of life. The posting in Ordena had taught him about one particular extreme. Delmonte reminded him a bit of Stevid's, perhaps because of their shared belief in the same god and religious institutions devoted to that god's worship. The Church was popular in Zarbia and parts of Guffingford, as well. And, the concept of the intertwining of religious and political was not lost on Andro. He said as much, in response, "In many ways, religion is in balance with the state in the Golden Throne, as well. The Imperial Cult is a different sort of religion, of course. Regardless, those are all respectable goals to have and I believe that many of them align with my own. After all, we too want peace, stability, and the fruits that it bears — trade: commercial and capital."

"Speaking of that," he added, pausing to take a sip of viska, "what is your opinions on the stock exchange proposal, Cardinal Terremino and Mr. Di Canossa? Perhaps it's not directly tied to your entrepot, but surely another source of capital for Delmonte's largest companies would be welcomed, no?" There were three strong supporters of the proposal and Andro needed two more to bring it to a vote.

"If Delmonte can get behind the regional stock exchange," he finished, "perhaps there are other economic proposals of interest to Delmonte that could get backing from the Golden Throne?"

[Castille de Italia]

-snip-

Chet nodded as Jasmine explained her presence in Nova Orontes. Antonio Montana was one of the most powerful men in Mokastana, and definitely one of the most powerful in the East, and here he was, in the presence of one of his daughters. Her beauty and elegant charm spoke volumes of her hereditary membership of the illustrious Montana family, but Chet knew that behind her demeanor were likely very ambiguous motives, as with any cutthroat corporate family. Chet would know, coming from the Litheau family himself, who for generations consolidated power in Castillia through political and commerical means.

"Well Miss Montana, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Chet said as he leaned back in his chair. "I must say, it is truly an honor to be in the presence of one of Mister Montana's beautiful daughters." He then looked to Zsuzsanna, who had suddenly since Jasmine's arrival at their table taken more of an interest in the conversation tonight. "Zsu, isn't it such a treat?"

Zsu chuckled, and leaned onto the table with her elbow, cupping her chin with her hand. "It is of course such an honor, Miss Montana. Please, I must ask, with a woman like you with many connections, do you know many Mokan directors? I am incredibly bored with the Castillian industry. With all the gang wars in Torrington and the corruption in the labor unions, everyone is wanting to make gangster movies. I'd hate to be playing the role of a gangster's poor helpless wife."

"You would break poor John Martinelli's heart if you went to Mokan movies!" Chet exclaimed as he let out a laugh, referencing the Castillian film director. "Now Miss Montana, what make you of this whole GDRC business? A Macabean ploy to conquer the whole region? Or perhaps may this thing work out and we can get some more international cooperation, especially regarding those fascists in Ordena?"

[Mokastana]

Snip

"Oh, my dear, you would not want to get into Mokan cinematography, most of it is financed by coke families trying to get their kids into spotlight roles. There is a reason those films never make it this far west. If you want to avoid gangster films, you would be best going to the Tatomese film circuit, for the past decade it's been all Reconstruction era Rancho films, or Science Fiction.

My friend Benito Del Toro used to direct my modeling choots when I was younger, but now Benito is a director in Santa Franco. Ee is in between projects, but Benito does good work. Did you see the film "Last of the Coztics"? Badly written, of course, but beautiful scenes. Not even the artistic eye of Benito could save that poor story. Ee even offered me a part in that movie, as a MOTHER of a love interest. Can you believe that? A mother? ja! I turned it down off course, I was working in Mokastana City at the time, dealing with the Fegosian Union Trade Commission."

Jasmine paused for a second as she began absentmindedly planning something, a new city, an actress, a director, all available at the moment. Perhaps she could set up a side business while in town. She looked at Zsu with a curious intent, smiling slightly:

"Tsu, right? Do you plan on staying in Nova Orontes for long? I'm in need of something to pass the time, and cinematography could be a fun investment. I can offer Del Toro something ridiculous to get him out here to direct a movie, start a studio, and get talent such as yourself for star roles. Yes, playing the role of a wife of a gangster is boring, but what about a Pirate Queen? The golden age of Surian piracy has, unfortunately, never been covered well in film.

Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll get Del Toro here soon, he works best when given full creative control. And Chet, please forgive this almost actress," Jasmine smiled while gesturing a hand towards herself, "I missed my calling, and now live vicariously through talented actresses such as the lovely Zsu here.”

“As for the GDRC, I think it is a wonderful idea. It would be nice to see some regional cooperation among our nations. Of course, by their very nature, the Macabeans have to be the ones to lead it, they do so love to be the leaders in everything, but I better not say anything less than flattering about my family’s largest client base.

In regards to the Ordenites, my family’s dislike of them is well known, but I figure they have enough enemies that I don’t need to bother with them. I have much bigger fish to fry here.” Jasime's voice grew a little colder at that final statement, but was quickly replaced with a warm smile.

"Is it too impolite to ask about the Castillian intentions regarding the GDRC?"

[Free Kolechia]

Nova Orontes

The Red Eye's Cave- it was a new bar to Bashir Dudin, who stood in the doorway for a moment looking around the room. There were a few people in the bar, and he recognized one of them quickly, it was Andro Kilomen, a Macabean Kríerlord. There was also another well-dressed man talking to two exotic looking women. Bashir was only in his early thirties, quite young for his post, but he had ascended to it with a show of real talent and promise for it. In Kolechia, such careers were usually safe once one got it if they wanted to keep it, even when a new president took office. Plenty of ambassadors and representatives came and went regardless. It was in the homeland in presidential appointments that were more temporary, staff changing out with a new election etc.

The Red Eye's Cave was somewhat what Bashir had heard it was, among well to do locals at other bars in the city. Bashir had spent the last few weeks exploring every avenue of it during his time away from his meetings and conferences. It had an aged look about it; it reminded him of some of the bars one could find in any "old part" of the major cities and large towns nearby.

Bashir made his way to the bar, the bartender was taking a moment to restock a couple of bottles and a few glasses. What was it about Bartenders that made many of them quite a character? Perhaps just dealing in spirits, regardless, the bartender here looked like a character himself. The bartender may have ironically thought the same of Bashir, and according to those in Dudin's life he wouldn't be wrong. Dudin had unbuttoned his blue coat, revealing a white dress shirt and dark tie underneath, this was matched with blue pants and dark shoes. His dark brown hair was grown out longer but kept neat and combed. His dark brown eyes looked to the bartender. He had a light complexion and was physically fit compared to many of his peers. He was clean shaven, never growing out his facial hair. While he could be rather nonchalant, he balanced this with his personal charisma and confidence.

With his deep voice he called to the bartender to have his first drink, and to begin his first visit at the Red Eye's Cave.

[Nova Orontes]

Dressed in an elegant light gray suit, with a like-colored vest over a white dress shirt underneath, Mr. Spectacle stepped over to the new arrival. He wore his signature gold monocle over the right eye, a gold chain drooping down into his suit pocket. Hanging from the back side of one of the upper cabinets was a screen. It blared the news and the story of the hour was the passing of Resolution #6. It appeared as if the GDRC was getting the bone structure to become something more important in Greater Dienstad. But, he didn't like listening to the news, so the Nova Orontian bartender never watched. He preferred to get his data in other ways.

"Mr. Bashir Dudin, nice suit. What are you having?" asked Mr. Spectacle, approaching with a shaker already in hand.

He took out a few small round white plates and placed them in front of the Kolechian. In one he put a small mountain of olives with pimiento, in another some sliced cheeses, and in the third some pork rinds.

[Free Kolechia]

It wasn't unheard of for someone to already know Bashir's name, not with his line of work, and there were certainly risks and threats in Greater Dienstad. Still, he was a little surprised, but just decided to accept it and move on.

"Thank you, do you have anything local you would recommend? Some local fire-water?" The bartender had laid out some fantastic appetizers. It appeared the bar did have its native regulars, but also was the place to explore for notable foreigners. A screen was showing news of a newly passed piece of legislation. He had abstained on this piece of legislation, Kashgar was uncertain of it, and it worked out because he had a series of meetings with officials from his homeland anyway, sitting in his office speaking over the phone or online all day.

But that had ended and now he could enjoy himself, at least somewhat for now. The GDRC appeared to be moving with increasing activity and that meant the work would be more constant. Regardless, he was good at it and he was be even better at enjoying what Nova Orontes had to offer.