Election Campaigning On The Red Road

by **Schottia** » Mon Jul 28, 2014 6:20 am

This story is the follow on from Marketplace Politics.

The Red Road, North Handon.

As Amy stepped onto the infamous Red Road, the historic significance was not lost on her. This was where, almost one-hundred years ago Schottia's Socialist movement started. It was where in 1920 her Great-grandfather Peter Connell then leader of the National Miners Union gave his famous speech. He was the same age as she was now, when he called for the workers of Schottia to unite, and stand shoulder to shoulder against the land-owners and out of touch politicians. The ruling classes had dismissed it as a young man who hated the country, nothing more than a communist with ideas above his station. However the sparks from that cold June afternoon slowly took hold, into something that would one day shape a nation. Five year later the Socialist Workers' Union, with Connell at the helm, swept to a landmark election victory. It was in this historic first term in government that they introduced the The social welfare reform that has made Schottia what it is today.

There was nothing particularly remarkable about the Red Road from the outside; one-up one-down 1870s terraced houses. Nothing, save a small plaque remained to give any indication of the monumental events of that day. Such was the modesty of the then ship builders who populated the houses; none saw their intervention as anything like pivotal.

The ship builders and their dry docks may have gone, but the sense of communities on the Red Road remained. Many of the older generation were sons and daughters of the same folks who stood in the street or, leaned over their fences to hear that young man voice his support for their industry all those years ago.

It was a right of passage for any Schottic Socialist Council candidate, to walk the 200 meter long street knocking on doors and answering questions from the residents. It was something, in Handon north-east, that had to be done. When in 1979 the Socialist Workers' Union had split over taxation issues, forming the Socialist party on one hand and the Workers' party on the other, Handon north-east, and with it the Red Road, had stayed loyal to the Socialists.

Amy's mouth suddenly felt dry as she walked up to the first door on the long street. Beside her was her friend Plesidippos, the Kurenian head of state, Lucy Glover, her appointed policy advisor and, John Mortimer, the real puppet-master in Schottic politics, and the Socilist's Director of Communication for six years.

The cameras were of course there too, waiting for any slips, anything that could make the front page. Amy stepped up to the first door, took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the gloss green painted surface. A large, highly polished brass 1 and a slightly smaller A adorned the centre of the door, so spotless that Amy even had the chance to check her hair in the reflection.

Flashes were going off in all directions, as Amy waited what felt like an age for the door to finally be opened. At last she heard a shuffling of slippered feet and a rattling of keys, and the door was slowly opened by a short grey haired woman, in dark tartan trousers and a pale blue cardigan. As the door came fully open Amy was met by the scent of the occupants. It was a thick domestic smell, of minced beef and onions cooking on the hob, the smell of pet dogs, of cheep fabric softener and of tobacco smoke.

'My name is Amy Connell, I'm standing for The Schottic Socialist Party in the By-election. I'm very pleased to meet you.' Said Amy holding out a hand, doing everything she could to seem confident.

'Yir name's what now sweetheart?' Asked the woman, in a high voice which broke a little at each vowel. 'Ah'm Sorry Ye'll hae tae speak up, ah'm a bit deaf gitting.' The woman took Amy's hand in a warm dry grip, cocking her ear to listen to her answer.

'My name is Amy,' she replied a little louder. 'I'm here on the election campaign. I was wondering if I could ask who you plan to vote for in the upcoming by-election?'

The old woman took some time to digest this question. Standing, mouth slightly open and looking oddly concerned, it seemed more like she was thinking about the question than the answer.

'Now hen, ah ken yir hert's in the right place but, yir no going tae talk to me aboot politics.' Began the old woman. 'Ma grandson has been in yin ay they Government Jobs project jobs since he left the University three year ago. Do you know what it is that they have him doing?'

'Do I don't.' Answered Amy, trying to remain friendly.

'He cuts the gress in parks.' The woman, was still holding Amy's hand as if to hold her in place. 'And dae ye ken what he studied tae dae?'

'I'm sorry he's not enjoying his job Madam, and no, please tell me.'

'He has a degree in Late Roman history!' The old woman, went on. 'He's a clever laddie and he deserves a job deyin what he studied.' The old woman let go of her hand and retreated slightly into the hallway.

'Okay, well your grandson needs to go and speak to his local job centre, and...'

'Listen Darling, Ah'll vote for the Socialists because ah eyweys huv.' the whole time she was closing the door on their short conversation. 'Ye dinae need tae worrie, ah wis only saying.' And with that the door clicked shut.

'That was somewhat abrupt.' Stated Glover from over Amy's shoulder, keeping her voice at a level, so as not to be heard by the journalists. Amy nodded, turning round with a smile for the camera's. Older people were any Councillors nightmare come election time, their utter lack of shame when it came interaction was a potential banana skin for anyone.

'She was just a fucking senile old bitch.' Said Mortimer trying to be supportive in his own way. 'Just keep going, your doing fine.'

Half way down the Red Road was Dewer street, which ran of at a tangent heading in towards what was the old dockland and the Port Sebastian area. Amy walked past the glowing Lammerton Lager sign which hung outside a bar she knew only as "Lord's" it was one of the favourite watering holes of her fathers, who enjoyed the anonymity of the place.

'This will do for a photo opportunity.' Said Mortimer. 'The new kid on the political block, in the working man's pub. Get your ass in there and charm the balls of them.' Mortimer placed a strategic hand on Amy's shoulder, controlling this situation carefully, like a captain with his hand on the ship's wheel. Amy was no stranger to politics, however even she was surprised just how much every move was carefully choreographed. She felt like all she was doing really was smiling and saying a few carefully chosen lines.

When she stepped inside the small bar room it felt like stepping back in time. Amy immediately realised the owner and regulars had managed to make time stand still by changing little or nothing. The place was obviously an attempt to keep one constant in their lives no matter what.

No sooner had she set foot on the now thread-bare carpet, had the bar man had already greeted her with a nod of the head and had his hand poised over a glass waiting for her order. Amy smiled back at him, watching his smile dissipate as the procession of party officials and press filed in behind her.

'Amy Connell, pleased to meet you.' She said offering the man a hand. From the look on the barman's face anyone could tell he was all at sea; unable to handle anything other than a drink order, or conversation about football, or the horses.

'Eh Keith Lord, nice to meet you.' The skinny, white haired man answered. 'Can I help any of you?'

'I'll take an orange juice,' said Amy, as was instructed. 'I'm standing for the Schottic Socialists in the by-election. I just wanted to introduce myself, find out if there's anything the constituents need to know regarding the issues we are raising.'

The bar was around half full. Four men in work overalls leaned against the bar, pint in hand, eyes fixed on Amy. Against the back wall three men sat playing dominoes beneath a blaring tv set, which Lord now turned down.

'Are ye no a bit young hen?' Asked one of the men standing at the bar. A bull faced man with a weather beaten complexion, and rough grey stubble, which covered his face and head. This comment brought a ripple of laughter from the other drinkers.

'Ah'd say she looks auld enough tae me.' Responded another man, stressing the right words so as to make it clearly about her looks.

'As your friend says, I am old enough.' Replied Amy going out on a bit of a limb. 'I have the full backing of my party and if they didn't think I was capable then I wouldn't be here. Like I said I am more than happy to answer any of your questions, regarding me, or my party.'

Amy smiled as she accepted her drink. Thanking Lord, she prepared to greet the rest of the bar's patrons.

by **Kurene** » Tue Jul 29, 2014 9:59 am

Plesidippos took in the surroundings of the country around him. Schottia was far removed from his home in Kurene. A much more continental climate and windswept islands was all that he could make out so far. It had been a strange few months in general. First meeting Amy, then ending up accompanying her back to her home country to aid and encourage her during her election campaign. Approaching the first house, Amy seemed nervous, but before long the old lady who inhabited the place had seen her off, assuring her of her vote.

Plesidippos was a little shocked at Glover's statement "She was just a fucking senile old bitch.". In Kurene, being rude to any voter on an election campaign whether they were present or not was considered grossly indecent and could mark one out for removal in the Kurenian election process. This was not Kurene, however, he thought to himself. "That was English?" Plesidippos remarked out loud after they had left the house. Plesidippos had learnt British English since he was a little boy, however, as a foreigner where English was not his mother tongue, he struggled to understand the strange Scotch-like dialect of many of the ordinary people of Schottia.

The party continued into a pub - Lord's bar or some such establishment he understood. Asking for an orange juice like Amy, he was pleased to see that Amy was un-phased by the mild jeerings of the working men. Upon receiving his drink he stood next to Amy and whispered in her ear "All right?" he smiled, trying to be as supportive as possible "You're doing very well. Keep at it!"

Plesidippos felt a little awkward with no official role in the campaign, but even still he hoped that his encouragement would make Amy feel better about the whole thing.

by **Schottia** » Thu Jul 31, 2014 2:43 pm

Schottic Council Offices, Handon.

'Right guys that was good start.' Said Mortimer leaning across the table towards Amy and her election team. 'It was a good start in that you didn't humiliate yourself, or the party. At this stage that's all we are hoping for.'

'The opinion polls are looking okay so far.' Amy said, feeling a bit more confident.

'Well lets wait and see next week brings.' Answered Mortimer, tapping his pen on the table like a drum stick. 'We want the public to think this a done thing. Vote you in and be done with it. We don't want to let those free market loving bell ends of an Enterprise Party a sniff.' He pointed a finger hard in her direction. 'Now remember don't get cocky.'

'So what is the sort of time frame we are looking at?' Asked Amy. 'I mean, supposing I win the by-election, what next? How soon do you recon we make a move?'

'Well, your father will be back from that backwards hellhole of a place Albicia soon, I need to have you sworn in by then.' Answered Mortimer, while deep in though.

'And how do we handle his resignation.' She asked.

'Handle it?' Mortimer sticking his feet up on the table and reclining. 'We just call a press conference and tell them. What's he going to say, "oh no it was all a mix up, go home." Besides, it tells him he has lost the support of his party. He's finished. An old fucking drunk. Sorry Amy I know he's your father.' He looked out of the window. 'Don't worry darling, you'll be High Council leader by the end of the month.'

'But is that in the nation's best interest at the moment?' Amy asked, looking for reassurance. 'I just don't know anymore.'

'Firstly; it's in your best interest. Secondly; you're going to be High Council Leader, not a queen, it's not like you actually run the country. What do you think we pay civil servants for? No Amy your the attractive new face of Schottic politics.' It was obvious Mortimer was enjoying himself, playing up to the audience. 'It's kind of perfect if you think about it. You're young, intelligent, educated, everything that we Schotts aspire to be. However you have the Connell name, so that the older voters feel at ease, nothing much is changing. It works out perfect. What can go wrong?'

---

'I know he can be a bit of a dick.' Said Amy to Plesidippos, as they walked out of the council offices and back into the early winter chill. 'Things just need to be done a certain way, and believe me I don't really agree with it.' She sighed deeply untying her hair and letting it down, and buttoning up her coat against the wind coming in off the sea. 'But you remember that day on the phone, it's either them or me. There's no choice.' She paused for a moment before grabbing him aggressively by the arm. 'Come on, back to my place, we need some time to think. Plus I need some time away from that bloody Glover. She is doing my head in. Just sits there and nods.' She hailed a taxi speeding up behind them, pulling Plesidippos inside. As well as losing Glover, she was keen not to get caught in any more media photographs, following the start of the campaign.

'Calton Road.' She said to the driver, who did a U-turn and sped out of the square.

by **Kurene** » Fri Aug 01, 2014 4:26 am

Plesidippos walked with Amy out of the council offices, and before long Amy had pulled him into a taxi to take him back to hers. 'Everything's moving fast again.' Plesidippos thought to himself with a smile. He had barely had time to catch his breath.

Plesidippos sat back in the taxi seat. Looking at Amy with a concerned look he said "I'm just a little suspicious about the whole thing Amy. It's this attitude of 'the attractive new face of Schottic politics', I believe that's what Mortimer said. A leader of any institution - head of the council for example, should not be a mere figurehead - that's for monarchs of constitutional monarchies. We're not constitutional monarchs Amy, we're leaders, and leader should lead, not stand and smile.

"But don't let me put you off. Once you are High Council leader, you have the power to change things, not matter how trivial these guys may make it sound."

Plsidippos was pleased not to have run into too many photographers while he had been in Schottia. Photographs of himself with the Schottic high council candidate and member of the Connel family could have triggered all kinds of scandal. Nevertheless, there would be a time when people would start to think, start to tell stories...after all, what had happened at the hotel in Kurene was no small event in their lives.

The taxi turned into a road called Calton Road - the one Amy had asked for, they must be nearing their stop, and Amy pointed out to him her abode.

by **Schottia** » Wed Aug 06, 2014 5:56 pm

Amy's flat, Calton Rd, Handon

'We can hold up here for a while.' Said Amy, closing the door behind Plesidippos as he entered. 'Can make you coffee or something? I think there is whisky if you fancy something stronger but I'm going to try and keep a clear head.'

Amy's flat could have easily been mistaken for that of a student, after all she was only a very recent graduate. Movie posters adorned the walls, alongside 1950's Schottic Socialist regalia. The flat felt very lived in with towers of books and crudely stapled pdfs covering every even flat surface.

'Take a seat.' She said before running through to the kitchen. Although it would have been difficult for Plesidippos to see exactly where she meant, as every piece of furniture was equally covered in stuff. 'Just throw that hockey back on the floor!' She yelled back, realising that he might be having that exact problem. A few moments later she emerged with a coffee pot and two cups. She used her foot to kick a book tower and pile of paper onto the floor, making room to place the coffee down. 'And there is this, but my flatmate seems to have drank half of it, even though it was mine.' She was clearly on edge as she slammed a near empty bottle of whisky down on the table.

'So I just need to keep Mortimer sweet for now, then when I'm in office I'll sort out all the corruption.' Said Amy half to herself, half in response to something Plesidippos said to her in the car.

'Okay so ideas.' Amy placed down a sheet of blank A4 paper with the word "IDEAS" in block capitals written in the middle. 'You know what, I'm loosing the plot.' She got up, pacing over towards the window. 'Why am I even brainstorming? I'm sorry Plesi, why the fuck have I even dragged you over here into all this mess?'

Just then there was a noise of voices and shuffling from somewhere in the flat, this shattered Amy's notion that they had been alone. She stood with her hands on her hips waiting for her flatmate to emerge from her room, followed by a young man.

'What the fuck is going on!' Shouted Amy, taking everyone by surprise. 'It's not even dinnertime Rebecca. I said that I needed this place to be a sanctuary during the election not a bloody brothel.'

'Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?' Replied Rebecca. 'I can bring people back to my own flat if I want, just like you have.' She added pointing to Plesidippos. 'Hi I'm Rebecca by the way.' Obviously totally oblivious to who he was.

'Eh! He is actually helping me with my campaign.'

'Oh really? I notice the bottle of whisky on the table.'

'The bottle of whisky that you drank! Don't push me Rebecca I'm on the edge right now.

'Erm, that may have been my fault. Sorry.' Said the young man somewhat nervously, in reference to the whisky.

'Right that's it.' Said Amy brandishing a hockey stick and pointing it in the young man's direction. 'Get out! Now!'

'Amy, you're just stressed this is ridiculous.' Said Rebecca grabbing the other end of the stick, beginning a tug off war. 'Mark just stay where you are!' The two girls ended up wrestling on the floor, while the two men were left standing awkwardly either side.

Handon International Airport

'Just this way Councillor.' Said the airport assistant, as she led Jan Connell, High Council Leader, through the security fast track system. 'Did you have a good stay in Albicia?' The woman had a quick efficient way about her which Connell liked.

'Well lets just say I'm no fucking closer to finding god than I was before I went, so I see that a success.' The woman laughed politely, perhaps shocked by the answer. 'But when the highlight of the fucking trip is the bar, then you know you're in the wrong place, ken.'

---

In the airport foyer John Mortimer was standing waiting for him holding a piece of cardboard, which read "Jan Connell."

'Very fucking funny.' Said Connell, not even smiling. 'Up all night coming up with that one.'

'I see you weekend away did you the world of good.' Mortimer replied smirking. 'Did you miss me on your spa trip?'

'I missed you like this country misses the free-market.' Connell replied, taking the sign from Mortimer and throwing it like a Frisbee across the room. 'I was actually hoping I'd come back and find you'd fucking hanged yourself in your office. I was going to stuff a Satsuma in your mouth and pretend it was a wanking accident.'

'Well I'm glad to see the bourgeoisie couldn't dampen your sense of humour.' The two men walked swiftly from the terminal, Connell lighting a cigarette the second they got out the door. It was a bitterly cold, windy day and he had to use the lapels of his jacket to break the wind for his lighter to work.

'So what have I missed?' Asked Connell. 'What are the fucking polls saying? I've no seen a paper in four days.' They were both struggling to keep upright as the gale force wind hit them square on.

'Everything’s looking pretty good so far Councillor.' Replied Mortimer. 'Your Amy's doing well too. Should breeze through.'

'Very nice. You've done a job there.' Said Connell as they finally reached the car. 'We might be able to fucking milk this, get some of the younger voters over to the cause.' Connell pulled open the door of the government car.

'Out with the old, in with the new, eh Councillor?' Mortimer smiled slyly.

'Oi! There life in us auld cunts yet, Mortimer so don't get any fucking ideas above your station.' She swung the door open wide, gesturing with his hand. 'Right get in!

by **Kurene** » Thu Aug 07, 2014 3:40 am

Plesidippos was a little lost in Amy's flat. Everything covering the floor and furniture was not what he was used too, but nevertheless, he made no comment about it. Amy seemed very edgy, slamming things down, hastily scribbling on paper, then changing her mind and questioning her very reasons for brining him to her flat. Plesidippos was just about to say something to try to calm her down, when they heard noises from another room.

Amy's flatmate and a young man emerged, and Amy and Rebecca's argument ensued. Feeling a little bit insulted at Rebecca's suggestion at why Amy had brought him there, as well as her disregard for who he was, he stood up and stood next to the other man - apparently called Mark and they watched, initially, helplessly as Amy and Rebecca first fought over the hockey stick, then continued their fight on the ground.

Plesidippos, observing the fight, was not happy, and for the first time in a long while, he lost his cool temper. He spoke to Mark "So, are going to do something, or are we just going to stand here like a pair of mōroi?" Plesidippos decided to curse in his own language, so as not to insult anyone around him, or the man he was addressing. Mark gave no good reply, only shrugging his shoulders. A little annoyed, Plesidippos sighed "Right."

Mustering some strength, he stepped forward. Both girls were still clinging onto the hockey stick that had started the fight. Plesidippos grabbed it, and with both girls still holding onto it, pulled it, and them, up so they were on their feet. He now gave the stick a yank, and they let go, he then threw the stick away onto the floor. Stepping in between the girls so that they couldn't restart their fight, he spoke first to Amy, pointing "You!" he raised his voice, "Need to calm down. And you!" he turned to Rebecca "Need to show more respect when you friend is going through a very stressful time such as this."

Amy sunk to the floor, and Rebecca stormed back into her room, slamming the door behind her. Plesidippos spoke to Mark again "Now, I'm sure your actions here have been perfectly harmless," he said slightly sarcastically, "But with these two on edge like this...it might be safer if you left." Mark seemed of weaker character to others he had met, and did not rebuke Plesidippos for anything he had done, and left without saying much.

Now Plesidippos went back to Amy, who sat on the floor, her head between her knees. He couldn't be certain, but he was pretty sure she was crying. He placed his hand on her back, but getting no reaction, he took her hand. This made Amy look up, revealing the tears streaming across her face. Plesidippos pulled her up and, clearing a space on the sofa, sat her down, before sitting next to her.

Plesidippos wasn't sure how Amy would react - he had never seen her angry or upset before, and he wasn't sure that he liked it. Nevertheless, the best he could do under the circumstances was try to comfort her and calm her down. As such, he placed his arm around her, and began to talk in his usual, softer voice, now fully calm following his somewhat aggressive restoration of order after the fight.

"Amy, Amy, Amy," he began "Stress is no good you see. You just need to calm down." He didn't have a tissue with him, and the mess on the floor made it impossible to find one, so he just used his hands to wipe away some of Amy's tears.

"Just take deep breaths Amy. You'll feel a lot better. Don't worry, you'll be all right."

by **Schottia** » Tue Aug 12, 2014 7:25 am

Port Sebastian Town Hall, Handon

"As chief retuning officer for Handon North-East is my duty to announce the results of this by-election. The votes have been counted and no recount has been called for. The results are as follows:"

Amy and the campaign team stood around nervously as the results of the by election were about to be read out. She was not nervous because of the outcome; it was one of the safest socialist seats in Schottia, but because of what would come next.

‘Alright Darling.’ It was her father Jan Connell, high council leader. He must have slipped in to wish her luck, or for the photo opportunity. ‘You’re going to be fine.’ He said placing a massive shovel like hand on her shoulder. Connell was a large man, a former Rugby player, he had broad square shoulder, with the unfortunate beer belly that middle age could bring. This was the first time she had seen her father since the campaign had got underway, commitments keeping them apart.

"Morag Grant, Schottic Communist Party: 1,334

John Cavanagh, Liberal Party of Schottia: 1,990

Deborah Gordon, Schottic Workers, and Trade Union Party: 2,589

Callum Colgan, Schottic Labour Party: 4,677

Nathan Greene, Enterprise Party: 4,901

Amy Connell, Schottic Socialist Party: 15,852

Amy Connell is duly elected to represent the people of Handon North-East."

There were huge amounts of cheers and celebration, Jan Connell of course in the centre of all the pictures. The proud father next to his little girl. There were several interviews to be conducted for TV, Radio, and the daily papers. When that was all out of the way they were able to head back to the Schottic Socialist’s offices on Buchan Street to celebrate.

---

Everyone was standing around, still in their best suits, glass of Champaign in hand. Amy took this opportunity to introduce her friend Plesidippos to her father, who had joined them for the celebrations.

‘Dad, Councilor.’ He turned round to face them, cheeks already rosy from the alcohol. ‘Dad this is Plesidippos I, of Kur…’

‘I know who you are son.’ Said Connell extending a large rough hand, which looked like it had seen a lot of work. ‘Can I say what an honor it is tae have you over here.’ Connell was smiling warmly. ‘Mortimer, Eh John Mortimer that is, told be that you had been advising Amy. On behalf of the party I want to formally thank you for your help.’

Connell came over standing side by side with Amy and Plesidippos in a bid to make the situation more relaxed.

‘Christ, you should have let us know Plesidippos was coming, we would have put him up in the state guesthouse.’ He turned to the Kurenian. ‘We’ll cover the hotel bill my friend and just hand your receipts in to my office before you go, anything you spend on food etc.’

It was only now that it really stuck home for her the importance of Plesidippos’ position. He must have though everyone in this country was completely mad at times.

by **Kurene** » Thu Aug 14, 2014 3:07 am

Plesidippos was at the celebrations with everyone. Plesidippos was very pleased for Amy, he had played a small role in her ascension to her office, and now she was a councillor, her dream, more or less come true - although he knew very well that the conspiring politicians of the Schottic Socialist Party had other ideas in mind for her. As long as he could, he would keep tabs on them for her.

"Pleased to meet you Mr Connell, it is an equal honour for me," Plesidippos replied to Amy's father "And thank you for that, I'll take you up on that offer, although to be fair, even I forgot I was the Kurenian head of state while I was here!" he joked.

"Amy?" Plesidippos gestured to Amy for a second, he wanted a word. Leading her to a part of the room where they would not be disturbed, and ensuring that no-one else was looking, he spoke. "I'm so proud of you Amy. You did it, you're a councillor - in your nation's parliament. The first step on the ladder. Just remember Amy, you're not out of the woods yet, I'm afraid I no longer trust this Mortimer and his team - but I've got a little while yet till I have to go back to Kurene, so I'll watch make sure they don't try anything silly."

Plesidippos paused. "But I'm so pleased for you," he continued "I was going to try to say something in a very long-winded way, but I figured that what I'm about to do would defeat the need for words." Plesidippos leant forward, placing his hands on Amy's sides and gave her a long kiss. When he pulled back he smiled at her "That speaks volumes. I hope you understand." and then he walked away to rejoin Amy's father Jan.

"So Mr Connell," he continued "I must say that my visit to Schottia has been an interesting experience for me. It is quite a different country to my native Kurene. I wonder, if, seeing as I am here on a visit, our two countries might benefit by having our two leaders strike some kind of deal together?"

by **Schottia** » Tue Aug 26, 2014 7:00 am

Amy was left a little confused by Plesidippos' actions. She probably shouldn't have kissed him back in Kurene. But what's done is done. It wasn't that she didn't like him, it was just the timing; she couldn't be bothered with yet another relationship that would never go anywhere long term. It had been bad enough for her father, who's relationship had ended in divorce three years back, and his wife hadn't been a politician. What would a possible relationship be like between her and Plsidippos? Fuck sake! It was like anything she did would be simply stringing him along. She couldn't deal with this just now. Kiss him back, by yourself some time. Fuck; did he just come here to get off with her? No. Calm down Amy, you are blowing this out of proportion, he's a bloody nice guy.

---

'Nothing is ever as easy as that pal.' Said Jan Connell leaning in towards Plesidippos so as not to be overheard. 'But I want to talk to you while your here, you know, just one head of state to the other?' He placed a firm hand on the Kurenian's shoulder.

'We cannae talk here Son.' He said in a hushed tone. 'There's a wee place I like to do business, away from the glaring eyes, ken? We can have a little chat, you and I.' Connell had that mischievous glint in his eye, one that anyone who knew him well would recognise.

Lord's Bar, Dewer Street, Handon

It may or may not have come as a surprise to Plesidippos that their short car journey lead them back to the scene of Amy's initial campaign triumph. Connell parked his car down one of the backstreets opposite an old lock-up. The entrance to the close was marked by a Dead-end signpost, and from the outside there was almost no reason anyone would feel the need to enter. It was obvious from the way he double parked with such confidence that Connell knew the close well, possibly even owning the lock-ups.

'I’ve surrounded myself with some bad people Plesidippos.' Connell said as he locked the car with the remote key. 'Some right twats.' He led Plesidippos through the maze of back streets. Walking quickly and with real purpose they rounded the corner into Lord's.

'Pint ay lager Keith, and whatever he's having.' Said Connell pointing back to Plesidippos. As he waited he seemed to be savouring his surrounding, his sanctuary. The bar was almost empty at this time of the day, it was not yet the early evening rush. There was only one elderly gentleman sat in the corner nursing a half pint of Ossorian stout.

'And that's the fucking problem pal.' Said Connell suddenly jumping back to the topic he started outside. 'Everyone is a twat!' Lord produced their drinks, accepting the ten-pound note from Connell. 'Cheers Keith.' Connell raised his glass to Plesidippos before drinking deeply, consuming almost a third of the pint. then placing it back down on the polished brass drip tray.

'They all just care about themselves. It's no their fault like, it's just human nature eh?' Connell seemed to be completely comfortable talking on front of Lord who was reading the paper, it was as if he were a piece of furniture. 'Every fucker's priority is them-fucking-sleves.' He took another huge gulp of his pint and motioned with his thumb for Plesidippos to follow him.

After they had collected their drinks Connell led them through a door that looked little use. Inside it was like an old function room. There was a bar that looked like it hadn't been used since the 70s and a pool table half an inch thick with dust. 'Grab yourself a seat.'

'Do you know what makes me a good politician though?' He was stabbing the air with a finger now. 'My self interest is this fucking country. You know when my grandfather came over here from Ossoria his parent didnae have two pennies to rub thegither.' Connell was shouting, red in the face. 'He built this country up out of nowhere. Gave the people something to believe in; and thats why there is now way I'm stepping aside to let the next generation fuck it up. I ken they want rid of me, fuck sure a do. But it aint happening!'

Connell talked to Plesidippos for some time, twice getting up to buy another round. Connell seemed tense, like a man who knew he was under pressure but couldn't admit it. He told Plesidippos that he wanted to Handon start building ships again, extracting oil off the south coast, but his party were blocking him everywhere he turned. Even the opponents of Jan Connell could not fault his passion for his country, and deep down her cared about all his people. Halfway down his third pint he gave Plesidippos a card with his office email address telling him to get the relevant people in Kurene to drop him an email and he would forward it to the right place. He was sure there would be no problem in opening the Schottic markets to Kurene.

'So while we're here Son.' Said Connell changing the subject suddenly. 'What are your intentions with Amy?' There was no malice in his voice only curiosity. 'I just dinae want her getting fucking dragged into anything she cannae handle.'

by **Kurene** » Fri Sep 05, 2014 10:17 am

Upon rejoining Jan Connell the man proceeded to give Plesidippos a small lecture on "things are never that easy". They then arranged a one-on-one meeting which Connell said they should go to a more private to do. Connell led them to a pub - of all places - to conduct their conversation.

Upon entering the establishment, Connell proceeded to buy a beer, and Plesidippos took wine. Meanwhile Connell proceeded to rant and rave about various thing people and politicians in general. "We have to put up with a lot as heads of state - don't we - Mr Connell?" Plesidippos tried to sympathise. Taking them into a side room them continued their conversation in private.

In Kurene there wasn't so much intrigue to politics and political deals with things much more out in the open, Plesidippos found the whole experience a little strange. Also, he felt as though this discussion wasn't really going anywhere, only really providing Jan Connell with an opportunity to complain. "A love and interest in one's own country is the most respectable thing any politician can have Mr Connell. It is a shame that you feel many of your colleagues do not share that sentiment. In Kurene, we have strived for hundreds to years to find a democratic system that works for the national interest as opposed to individual interests."

"So here we are." Plesidippos parroted Connell. Then Connell brought up Amy. Plesidippos tried his best to answer as diplomatically as possible: "When I met your daughter sir, I knew I had found a great friend. I just wanted to come and help her. From what I can gather..." he paused for a second to think "from what I can gather members of your own party see her as the next 'figurehead of Schottic politics'. Something I wholeheartedly disagree with. It is my intention to stay, and protect and advise her for as long as possible. I'm afraid I don't trust anyone who I have met on her team."

Connell took his leave, agreeing they should meet again soon, and that relevant departments would be informed.

Plesidippos came out of the pub, and, a little lost himself, and feeling now a little guilty - decided to give Amy a call. Calling her mobile he said "Hi Amy, it's Plesi. Hi, I'm outside your father's pub, er, Lord's Bar I think. Could you come help me I don't know my way from here. Erm, also, sorry about earlier, but, erm, well I suppose you understand, I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry. I wouldn't want you to think I was just using you or anything."

by **Schottia** » Mon Sep 08, 2014 3:32 am

'Listen Plessi, honestly, it's me that needs to be sorry.' Amy said picking him up in her small silver electric car. Amy seldom used her car, but it was in the garage down stairs for when she needed it. 'Can you understand though that I'm just a little bit uptightright now?' She was doing some angry driving, with gritted teeth, taking the occasional round-about in third gear.

'Do you what me to take you to your hotel so you can drop your things off? Did I hear my dad telling you just to drop your bills into his office?' Amy gave him a reassuring smile, patting him on the thigh. 'Anyway, at least that's all that out the way. The by-election I mean.'

The drove into the centre of Handon, parking outside a Gov-mart, supermarket. It was starting to get late and the sun was firmly set over the harbour. It was a crisp winters evening, by contrast to the normal wet windy Handon winters, which seemed to soak you in every direction at once.

'I'm sorry my dad did that to you, he thinks he is so clever. He is always pulling fucking stunts like this.' The truth was at that moment in time Amy had not the faintest idea what her father wanted with Plesidippos. 'Do you want to stay where you are? Or in the central hotel? Or there are some less expensive, but nice places down by the quayside. It's totally up to you, I can fire-up the iPad and let you have a look if you like?'

She had turned round in her seat so that she had one leg up, allowing her to face him. She was still in the clothes she had worn for the election, but she now had her glasses on, and her dark red hair was tucked behind her ears.

Amy's phone lit up on the dashboard, indicating a text message.

'Fucksake, it's Mortimer, he's calling me in.' Amy looked genuinely exhausted, taking her dark-framed glasses off and rubbing the bridge of her nose, 'I can just drop you off here if you like Plessi? I don't know how long this will take, it's up to you what you want to do?'

---

When ah took ma leave fi the Kurenian boy, ah heided doon the Red Road and oot oan tay the harbour. Ah'd gotten what ah wanted fi the laddie, what ah needed tae ken. The thing wis, ah didnae trust ony ay they cunts either.

That Mortimer thinks he's fucking smert, but ah ken, he thinks ah dinae, but ah dae. These young yins aw think there smert.

When ah got tae the harbour a foond a pub cry't the 'Auld Yard.' Ah ken't it weel, my faither yous'tae drink there back when ah wis wee. The barmaid wis the same auld cunt that eyways worked there, Barbara her name wis. The auld coo must ay been aboot 75, she worked there when ah wis 18.

Ah sat doon wi my pint and had a good fucking think tea ma'sel. Aifter aboot thirty minutes ah ken't what ah had tae dae. So a heided back up the hill and fetched the car fi the lock up, ah'd be okay tae drive. Ah fucking ken't what ah had tae dae. Ah had tae see that cunt Mortimer.

---

The Daily Worker

A YouGov poll was carried out last week, voters were asked the question: Which party would you most like to see in power after the general election? The results show that there has been an increase in support for Jan Connell's party, contrary to what was previously believed. This will fly in the face of claims from Labour leader Doris Backrig who was confident the gap between their two parties was narrowing.

Connell, who leads a coalition government propped up by the Communists, the Workers party and two Green councillors, seems set for a fourth term in government. The poll also showed a decrease in support for the pro free-market Enterprise party, who may even slip to as little as five Councillors.

Connell has heralded this as 'Highly significant,' showing his party are still the people's choice in an ever changing world. He was also quick to boast of Schottia's two nominations for the position of Economic Council Chair, in the up and coming B.L. elections:

'This is undeniable proof of the importance of financial prudence in this day and age. It shows that this nation is taking the right steppes to boost its own economy and bring prosperity to its people. We in Schottia make a choice and it is obvious that others see that as a positive thing. That is why other nations want to see that same kind of economic management, that same savvy, implemented to the betterment of the region as a whole.'

by **Schottia** » Mon Sep 22, 2014 3:09 am

Schottic Socialists office building, Handon.

'I don't know what it was that couldn't wait until the morning.' Snapped Amy as she a Plesidippos, used her key-card to enter the foyer, a 21st century addition to the 18th century Cornellian building. 'I mean, all this seems a little excessive, don't you think? When do politicians ever get time to work on any policies?'

Mortimer's office was on the top floor of the building. The top floor, like the entrance was a late addition to the building, sitting like a crown of glass atop the red sandstone structure. From the look of Mortimer's office door anyone would think it him that ran the country, it gave off an impressive air of modern wealth and affluence. Amy's father's office by contrast was the rather more modest ministerial office in the Old Town hall.

Amy stood before the door ready to knock. For some reason she hesitated at the last second, lowering her hand to her side; before taking a deep breath and knocking confidently on the frosted glass panel.

'Come in Amy.' Came the voice from inside. Obviously not too many people he would be expecting at this time of night. Amy looked round to Plesidippos for reassurance, then taking a deep breath and raising one eyebrow, pushed the door firmly open.

'John, how are you doing?' Trying to keep a deadpan veneer of confidence. 'Cold night huh?'

'Aye, its a bit cooler than it's been.' He got up walking over to the window. 'Here, take a seat, both of you. Anyone want a coffee, or tea, or beer? They keep my fridge stocked with beer, can you believe that. Not that I drink much mind you; but it's nice to know its there.' There was something unnerving about Mortimer when he tried to be nice. It was this side to him however, that was all that Amy had known to start off with. They had initially been much more like friends than colleges, possible for a while even closer. In the begining he had always been interested in whatever she was doing, and the fact that being friends with him pissed of her father was just a bonus.

'Eh a coffee might be nice.' Answered Amy finally, hoping it would be enough to keep her awake. 'So what is it you brought me, us, in here to talk about?'

'Here, read this over.' He said throwing down an unsealed envelope, before pouring boiling water into a pot of coffee. 'Just open it and let me know what you think.'

After that she read over it several times, before handing it to Plesidippos. She continued to look forward while he read the letter, watching Mortimer cheerfully busying himself with the coffee cups.

'Read it?' He asked.

Amy nodded.

The letter was of course her father's resignation. Although she would have been very surprised if her father even knew of its existence. It was full of praise for the nation, and talked at length about how proud he had been to have steered Schottia through the last decade. He was filled with regret that he must make this decision, but with the general election looming it was necessary to allow the people of Schottia to be able to vote on the candidate who was likely to be in office at the end of the four years.

It was pretty well written; it was a good way to go out. Only problem was he hadn't written it.

Eventually, once Plesidippos had been given time to read the letter through, Mortimer took it back placing it in the white envelope. He walked round the desk placing a cup down in front of each of them before taking his normal seat behind his desk.

'Right initial thoughts on the wording?' He took a long sip of his coffee, keeping his eyes fixed on Amy. 'Does it do the big man justice?'

Amy nodded again. However her breathing was getting a bit panicked, she literally felt like she was signing her father's death warrant. She looked over to Plesidippos sending him a smile that was not mirrored in her eyes, or body language.

'Don't worry there will be nothing to attach any of this to you.' Said Mortimer, reassuring her. 'Or yourself Sir.' He added, speaking to Plesidippos. 'As far as any of this is concerned, you're not even here.'

"Trisha, can you send someone up to collect the letter please?"

Mortimer spoke into the inter-com on his desk.

'Someone will be here just now.' He said going back to the conversation. 'So initial thoughts then?'

There was a knock at the door.

'Come in!' Yelled Mortimer getting to his feet reaching for the letter, holding up a finger to the two young people as if to say "one second."

'Your too kind John.' Came a familiar voice from behind them. Amy turned quickly to see her father standing in the doorway. His hair was wet from the sleet and the shoulders of his brown, padded leather jacket were speckled with raindrops. Connell took up the whole of the entranceway. He was easily as tall as Mortimer, but with much broader shoulders. He had the former rugby-player build that was an uneasily balance of fat and muscle.

'Councilor? How can I help you?' Said Mortimer walking towards Connell, flicking the letter onto the floor on his way. It landed out of sight next to Amy's legs.

'Just a wee, fucking, social visit John, ye ken how ah am?' He was now fully inside the room. It was obvious to Amy that Mortimer was trying to keep a barrier between her and her father, positioning himself in such a way.

'Do you think he knows what's going on?' Amy whispered to her friend, as the two men continued their verbal duel behind them. 'What did he ask you about earlier in the pub?'

'Well, pour yourself a beer if you want Councillor.' Replied Mortimer. 'Come and join us for a bit.'

'I think I might stand actually John.' He said before looking over to his daughter who had her eyes firmly fixed on the floor. 'Hello Amy, still celebrating the evection win?'

'Eh, yeah dad thanks...'

'We just need discuss how to capitalise on this initial success.' Put in Mortimer before she could answer for herself.

'Ah okay!' Said Connell, in mock surprise. 'And you don't think this is something I should have been fucking involved in? No?' He was looking between all three of them, daring them to make eye contact. 'I'm mean I am the fucking leader of this fucking council.' There was a cold air coming off of his clothes combined with a smell of cigarette smoke and beer. This altogether succeeded in adding to the presence he already commanded wherever he went.

Just then there was another knock on the door. Everyone fell silent. Connell fixed his eyes on Mortimer, waiting for him to call the person in. There was a stand off that lasted all of ten seconds, but felt to everyone like a lifetime.

'Well.' Said Connell motioning towards the door.

Mortimer shrugged 'It won't be anyone.' He answered, trying to seem calm, but it was obvious he was rattled.

'So you're not going to answer your own office door?'

'Nope.'

'At this time of night.'

'Nah'

'Although, it must clearly be important for them to be bothering you now?'

'I'm with two councillors and an international head of state, whatever it is can wait.' Mortimer was scrambling now and Connell could smell blood.

'Well I dinnae mind, let me get it for you.' Connell turned towards the door just as there came another knock. Amy's breathing had reached panic speed now as she fumbled for Plesidippos' hand, squeezing it so tightly she was probably inflicting a great about of pain.

'Alright son.' Connell said to the young civil servant on the other side of the door. 'Come in, what can we help ye wi pal?' The young man looked like he was about to have a sentence read out. He was in his early twenties and of a very slight build, and of a very weak disposition.

'What's yer name pal?' The man looked round to Mortimer for permission to give his own name; who nodded before looking away, burying his face in his hands.

'Um... Matthew Gordon, Councillor.' He eventually managed to stammer out as Connell leaned down over him with a fake smile.

'Matthew, nice tae meet you. And how can we help you the'night.' Connell placed a large hand on the young man's shoulder.

'Um. I um... I don't know councillor.' This took Gordon about ten seconds just to get out.

'You don't know?' Asked Connell, his voice getting louder and higher in pitch. 'You dinnae ken?' A huge smile spread over his face as he showed both sets of teeth, slightly yellowed from years of heavy smoking. He now knew he had broken the young man, he would eventually get what he wanted.

'What team do yi support son?' Connell asked, in a move that unsettled Gordon even further.

'Eh what?'

'It's an easy question, Ah'm just trying to be friendly eh? I'm a Porty fan, John here supports United. Amy, used to be a Porty fan growing up but now I'm no sae sure.' He looked over at his daughter who had her head directed firmly at the ground.

'You still support Port Sebastian Amy?' She nodded nervously.

'It's something we can all have a nice fucking chat about.' He said turning back to Gordon. 'So yourself?'

'King's Park.' He eventually answered although it could have been a lie. Under that kind of pressure there was now way of telling.

'Hey... Darren O'Brian, good player huh?' Said Connell patting Gordon hard on the shoulder.

Amy was close to breakdown now, and squeezed Plesidippos' hand even harder. Mortimer wasn't fairing much better, and was helpless as he watched Connell dismantle the young civil servant. There was now little hope that he wouldn't crack under interrogation. He was going to fold like a red hot Mars-bar.

'Alright then son, get yourself off.' Connell finally said to Gordon, much to his relief. 'If you cannae mind then you better get back to whatever yi were daei' eh?'

Connell held the door open for him as he turned and headed back out.

'Oh but before you go could you do me a wee favour?' This stopped them all dead in their tracks. 'Could you pick up that letter for me? The one that's at Junior Councillor Connell's feet? The one John knocked on the floor by accident just before I came in.'

It seemed to take hours for Gordon to retrieve the letter, it seemed almost as if by walking slowly he hoped that Connell might get bored and walk away. Or perhaps he might be saved by the bell. But eventually he brought it before Connell, and held it out towards him.

'Read it.' Said Connell still smiling. 'I've no got ma glesses.'

---

"This is why and with deepest regrets I must inform you of my decision to stand down as high council lead."

The last sentence seemed to hang in the room for an age. There was a pause of close to a minute before Connell, his face contorting to utter rage, aimed a boot straight into Gordon's groin. The kick sent the young man to the ground like a sack of spuds. He lay in a crumpled heap, and that was where he remained for the rest of the time they were in the room.

'You're some fucking boy Mortimer. Some fucking boy.' He said now bearing down on him, an aggressive finger pointed in his direction.

'Now Councillor, there is a foreign head of state here, lets not do anything crazy.' Said Mortimer, although he was clearly clutching at straws.

'Not do anything crazy?' Connell laughed in a way that seemed every bit crazy. 'Nothing crazy, like writing a councillors letter of resignation, days after the polls showed he had extended his lead?'

Connell grabber Mortimer by the throat, slamming him hard against we wall.

'You, will never work in this country again Mortimer, you better back your bags for somewhere far off, join the fucking foreign legion or something, because your fucking finished.' With that he drilled a knee deep into Mortimer's stomach, who with a wheezing sound, also collapsed to the ground.

'Now as for you, my dear daughter.' Said Connell turning to face Amy who was in floods of tears, her head leaning against Plesidippos' shoulder. 'The big question remains, what are you doing here?'

'Dad, I'm so sorry, please.' Is what Amy said but it was barely audible through the tears.

Connell stood there motionless for a few seconds, his face getting redder and redder. He seemed as if he had been frozen in his tracks by some divine intervention. His face twitched back and forward and his shoulders shook as he continued to redden. It was excruciating to watch. Eventually, out of nowhere, Connell collapsed on the floor joining the others.

'DAD!' Screamed Amy, running over and hugging her father.

'Plesidippos, call an Ambulence! What do I do?'

by **Kurene** » Mon Oct 06, 2014 12:30 pm

Plesidippos watched the whole thing from his chair with Amy. From the beginning Plesidippos had been very nervous about the whole situation - arranging Amy's father's removal was something he had several qualms about, especially after meeting with Amy's father just a day before and having an in-depth discussion with him about the nature of his colleagues, one of whom was now sitting in front of him.

Plesidippos observed the conversation, and he could Amy had been getting progressively more nervous, and then Jan Connell arrived. Plesidippos rolled his eyes as he heard the voice at the door - if he knew anything about politics, he knew, as they said in Europe: "shit was about to hit the fan". As things deteriorated, and the young civil servant was grilled to the point of delirium by Connell, Amy squeezed his hand tighter and tighter, Plesidippos had to place his other hand over on top of hers in an attempt to ease the pain of it slightly.

As the civil servant read out the line of the letter, Plesidippos sunk his head in his hands, and under his breath swore in his own language "kakos." Councillor Connell then ensued to knock the sense and consciousness out of Mortimer. Then he turned on Amy, and Plesidippose suddenly rose to his feet to begin to explain the situation, and attempt to defend Amy - but fate had another plan.

It was only a few seconds before Connell was on the floor, and his daughter with him, in floods of hysterical tears. Plesidippos adopted his usual calm-under-pressure tone and mentality, he had learnt that getting worked up in times of crisis solved nothing and if anything, worsened things. "I believe he is having a heart attack." he stated, before picking up the phone and dialling the emergency number.

After his call, he joined Amy on the floor "The ambulance is on the way. I told them there were two people needing attention." he pointed at Mortimer still coiled up on the floor, "He'll probably need looking over too." Jan Connell was still gasping for air and red in the face on the floor, "Keep back Amy." Plesidippos rolled Jan Connell onto his side, and supported him there, instructing Amy to keep him there.

When the ambulance crew arrived, Plesidippose pulled Amy off of her father - a painful and laborious task in itself, but he succeeded, giving the paramedical room to work and to lead Jan Connell and Mortimer into separate ambulances bound for hospital. Meanwhile, Plesidippos supported Amy, holding her in a close embrace while her tears soaked into his tunic. Stroking her hair, he tried to comfort her "Come on, it will be alright, he's in safe hands now - we'll get you to the hospital as soon as you've calmed down a little."

Still hugging her, he sat her down in the chair, and poured Amy a glass of water, wiping off her tears with a tissue that had been on Mortimer's desk.

by **Schottia** » Sat Oct 11, 2014 5:23 pm

Handon General Hospitial

Jan Connell lay in the hospital bed in his NHS ward. He had his back propped up, and was lying there with tubes and drips attached to him all ways. On front of him the TV way playing, it's flickering glow reflecting of the lenses of Connell's tired eyes. In his left hand, he defiantly held the remote, his last piece of power.

He was brought out of a trance that may have otherwise lasted for hours by a knock on the glass panel of his door.

'Jan, are you up to visitors, my old friend?' It was Anton Illich, Belisarian League Economics Chair, and renowned socialist thinker. Illich was a tall man, with slivery grey hair, which was bearing up okay considering his advancing years.

'Illich,' He said craning his neck although it looked like it took all his strength. 'Fucking state ah've goat masel in eh?' He laughed through his nose, turning back towards the TV.

'What is done is done Jan, are you in any pain?' Illich walked round the side of his bed and pulled out a hard plastic chair.

'Nah, I'm doped up tae fuck. Ah cannae feel ma fucking tays jist aboot.' He lifted his right foot under the bed-sheets as if an illustration was needed. Illich took of his jacket and laid it across his lap.

'Well that is good to hear.' He said leaning forward. 'And it was a stroke they said?'

Connell nodded.

'And you still cannot remember a thing from the evening?'

Another nod.

'Okay,' Illich put his hands to his mouth. 'Jan we need to talk about politics I'm afraid; I know you're tiered but it must be done. You know of course that Amy is standing as leader?'

'Aye, She's a good lassie.' He said without looking up. 'And ah hope she gets it. She's got that laddie fi Kurene wi her. Helping her oot.'

' Plesidippos the 1st.' Said Illich. 'I noticed him a few times, first by her side on the television and second at the by-election results. Your doing?'

'No, not ma doing, but I think he's a good laddie.'

'Any idea what his motives are?' Replied Illich leaning forward again. 'Is anyone checking him out?'

'Och, ah dinae think its anything. Ah spoke tae the cunt the day before the stroke, ah honestly think the poor bastard has just fallen for her.'

'Like so many before.' Said Illich with a smile. 'She's never given you an easy time Jan.' He glanced at his watch, it was now getting late. Illich had permission to be in the hospital after hours, but he was wary of tiring Connell out.

'Yer right there, just like her bloody mother, that's where she gets it fi like. Eiways had a strong mind.

'So you are okay with this? It's going to be very tough for her to get the votes she needs, you know how things are I mean.' Asked Illich changing the conversation back.

'Aye that's right, she'll need the support of the unions, they make up about a third of the SSP membership vote.' Connell pressed the red button on the remote, putting it on stand by and plunging the room into semi-darkness and silence.

'Of course, and you more than anyone must know how hard it is to turn them round. How long was it that it took you to get them on your side? She'll need all the help she can get.'

'Too bloody long. Which is why I've sent Glen Hardcastle at the NMU a letter telling them to back her.' Connell strained pulling himself into the forward position and pulled a bottle of water towards himself.'

'Jan, you've done what?' Exclaimed Illich, struggling to get his head around Connell's actions.

'As yi said Illich, she'll need aw the help she can get.'

---

University of Handon, SSP Leadership debate

Amy and Plesidippos were standing in the lady's toilets just behind the green room. All the other candidates were in there being briefed by their teams of advisers, going over numbers, facts and figures, trying to make sure nothing was going to catch them out. Amy was starting to feel suffocated however and had decided to get away from it. Things had been a lot better since Mortimer had been off her case. He was still hung up in hospital and although he called her almost everyday, she never answered. Plesidippos had been right all along; she was better off without him. She needed to trust in herself.

'You know what Plessi?' She said looking at herself in the mirror, checking she was as presentable as possible. 'I actually feel pretty good about this. I think it's going to play into my hands when it comes down to a straight fight.'

She knew the other two, Sabine Marditz and Marc Gannon well, they were all young members of the Schottic Socialist crowd, the in-crowd. To be honest they would both make great leader, she knew that for a fact. She just had to hope that the SSP members, in particular the Unions, thought she was better.

Amy wore a dark-blue suit and white blouse, with a skirt that stopped just above her knees. In addition, and as was her normal protocol for giving talks, she had her reddish-brown hair tied back and had donned her black framed glasses.

'Do you think I look presentable?' She asked her friend, finally turning back towards him. 'God, they are going to think we are a bit weird hanging out in the girls toilets, but I just couldn't stand another minute in that fucking green-room, with all those spin doctors.'

'You have a lot of experience with these kind of debates huh?' Amy asked. 'How much do you think it comes down to the way you present yourself?

Amy already guessed herself that the answer was: a lot. Furthermore the sexist nature of the patriarchal society they all operated within meant there would be extra focus on the way she looked. She wondered if Sabine Marditz was nervous too, and how she was feeling about the way she looked. Marditz was a beautiful woman, still only 30, and Marc Gannen only 38. Whatever happened the next leader of the SSP was going to be a good bit younger than the last.

by **Kurene** » Tue Oct 14, 2014 12:33 pm

Plesidippos stood with Amy in the ladies' toilet near the Universities' green room. It had turned out that Amy's father had had a stroke back in Mortimer's office, and now could not remember what had happened, both a shame and a blessing. That being said, he was now in hospital and willing to stay out of the way, putting Amy's mind at rest and indeed allowing her to get on with her coming events.

Plesidippos placed his hand on her shoulder "You'll be fine Amy darling. Just say what you mean." he had continued to try to support her as best he could over the last few tough days. He had managed to persuade her not to answer Mortimer's constant phone calls - after all the man was in hospital he needed to rest too - plus he would have been damaging to Amy's campaign.

Amy asked him about presentability. "Hmm," Plesidippos hummed "Well I don't like to say it but as a female politician, the prettier you look, the more they'll like you." he scanned her up and down and smiled "Which means you'll have no problem at all." He thought back to the other candidates - "none of the others are as young as you. Just remember, you have the enthusiasm of youth - you may be criticised for being young - not having experience. Just remember - I'm only your age or just about and I manage! Whatsmore, if you accuse them of insulting you by using that argument of 'lack of experience' for example 'are you suggesting that the just because I'm young I'm not experienced? There's more to politics than age!' they'll shrivel that argument up - there's nothing a politician hates more than being branded as 'rude' - it destroys their credibility."

Plesidippos put his arm around her "Now, perhaps we ought to go back? Best of luck as usual - and just remember you'll do fine!"

by **Schottia** » Tue Oct 21, 2014 1:57 pm

The SSP Leadership Debate
Live on SBC 1, 20:30.

‘Good evening to all of you in the audience and a warm welcome to all of you watching at home.’ Said the host of the debate Frank Snra, ahead of what promised to be a lively debate. ‘We are here tonight at the University of Handon, to hear what will be the only head-to-head debate between the three candidates for the Schottic Socialist Party leadership.’

The stage was set, four podiums had been positioned side by side. To the right the three young SSP members and to the left was the host, who’s job it would be to interrogate them. Schottic politics was about to go into uncharted waters, even the oldest of the three, Marc Gannen would be the party’s youngest ever leader at 38. All three of them were highly educated, well versed, students of the current political system.

‘The first question comes via twitter and it’s from Dan Losnes in Lammerton. He asks:

“Is the fact that Schottic troops have been committed to the conflict in Azurlavia, only months after joining the Belisarian League, proof that membership will only bring more fighting?”

‘Okay lets start with Amy Connell. This is an interesting question, and obviously in reference to something your own father said. He himself was fiercely against BL membership of course, much to the inconvenience of most of the SSP.’

‘Okay well to answer the actual question.’ Started Amy trying to stay calm. ‘No I don’t think that it will only bring more fighting. Lets look at the situation, and lets only look at the actual facts. Firstly the Belisarian League, for the most part is an entirely peaceful entity. You only need to look at the conflicts in other parts of what is an extremely volatile region to see that. Other than Perigreno, which was a former Edomite colony and the current situation in Azurlavia, which is a technically a civil war, the continent is actually very stable. It’s because of this that we must act to stop the situation in Azurlavia spilling out into the rest of the region. I mean pirate activity is already threatening our shipping lanes in the southern passage.’

‘So Amy.’ Said Snra, cutting across. ‘Was your father then wrong in what he said, when he talked about the dangers of, and I quote.’ He unfolded a piece of paper and held it aloft. “The dangers of joining these organizations, and I do not hesitate to call them organizations, is that it can have a corporatizing effect on the nation members, creating a shared accountability. This has the affect of giving nations a veil to hide behind when making decisions on issues such as war, foreign policy and trade agreements.” That was your father speaking in January of this year.’

'Well I mean. The BL does a lot of good and...' Amy was cut off.

'So was your father wrong?' Snra pushed her again. Most politicians fond him an utter pain in the arse.

'Look I'm not saying he was wrong.' She put in forcefully. 'Those are legitimate points to make, that no left thinking individual...'

'So Schottia would not be in a war right now, if it were not BL members?'

'Look, the Azurlavian situation had the potential to spill out into the wider region, it would affect our shipping regardless, at least this way it gives us the chance to react in an official legal capacity.' She was getting flustered already, she had started the last two sentences with look. 'The CPO are deployed in Azurlavia as well.'

'And I could run off a whole list of things your father, Anton Illich, Isobella Silvera have said about the CPO.' That bastard snra had got on a role. 'Is it what the Schottic people want?'

'In the wider scheme of things, yes, I think it is. I think the Schottic people are aware of the issues surrounding Azurlavia and they are willing to accept our responsibility to our neighbours in return for the greater good that comes of it. International capitalism is sufficiently globalised these days, that there is little escaping it. We need these close relations with trade partners, for the trade we all rely on. You just can't simply shut yourself off from the world anymore, unless you are Hostillia.'

---

After the debate

'I have no idea how that went.' Said Amy, removing her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose, hard. After a rough start she had finally managed to get into a flow, but the whole hour and a half had been exhausting. 'I just need to sit in a darkened room with a large glass of wine. Do you think we can manage that?'

Since going it alone Amy had been in a constant state of frantic tiredness, but at least, she felt like she was making her own decisions. There were probably going to be repercussions for this, but with Mortimer held up in hospital the whole leadership race was totally rudderless. Of course no one in Schottia would have realised the impact this had made, and few more would even know whom Mortimer was.

'God! Well lets hope that its so far so good.' Said Amy as they marched back down the hallway. 'Its funny, last time I was giving a talk here I spoke about Kurene.' Amy let her hair down and ruffled it violently, in a visual gesture showing that she was off duty. 'I had a heckler during the talk and I remember managing to put him down, it was like, so easy. Actual politics though, it's a totally different thing.'

'I also took the bus home from that talk.' Amy laughed, using the remote key to open her car out in the University car park, letting Plesidippos in. 'I can tell you, I won't be doing that anymore.' She said stretching round to look over her shoulders before reversing out.

---

Amy's flat

Back at the flat she slumped herself down on the sofa, sprawled out, before putting her hands to her head.

'Knackered?' Asked her flatmate Rebecca handing over a glass of red wine. 'I watched it on the tele, you definitely had the best of it.'

'Do you think?' Asked Amy. 'Did you record it? I should probably watch it through before I do anything else.'

Rebecca nodded filling, and then handing a glass of wine to Plesidippos, who had become like their third flatmate over the last couple of weeks.

'I was just about to call in some food.' She asked looking back and forward between the two of them. 'Do you want me to me to get yous something too. Pizza or Shalumite food?'

'For me pizza, but I'm happy to go with whatever Plesi wants.' She turned to him throwing her suit jacket on the floor. 'You have pretty much been my campaign team these last few weeks.'

'Oh my god.' Said Rebecca as she fetched the menus. 'In a few weeks I could be living with two heads of state. That's like, totally crazy.'

by **Schottia** » Wed Oct 22, 2014 3:03 am

Dundee, South Schottia

Freya Kelman’s trainers pounded the tarmac as she re-entered Donalley Street, the location of her official URTDAW residence. She was breathing heavy, the 11 kilometres down to the loch and back every morning was tough going, even with the drizzling rain to help keep her cool.

Reaching the gate she stopped to stretch off. She glanced down at the screen of her MP3 player, it was eight am already, she needed to be at the office for ten. She headed into the house killing the loud music which had been blaring out of the head phone. Freya was aware she probably listened to it on too high a volume. She kicked off her trainers and dumped her t-shirt on the table in the foyer, mounting the wide wooden staircase, which took her to the bathroom upstairs.

The Chairperson's residence was definitely intended as a family home, when it was designated 60-years-ago, few would have imagined it being occupied by a single 27-year-old woman. However earlier in the year she had become the Unions youngest ever Chairperson, making her the most powerful woman in the trade-union politics. Freya was a terrible housekeeper the most of the spare rooms upstairs were filled with her still unemptied cardboard boxes. Every week when the cleaner came round she shuddered at the thought of her having to go clean up her mess. The thing was the house was far too big for her, she only used about four of the rooms. However Freya couldn’t imagine that changing anytime soon; there was no boyfriend in the picture, let alone a family.

She kicked off her trousers and underwear, flicked the radio on and entered the shower. It was going to be one of those mornings, she was sure of it. The final committee meeting regarding the URTDAW support for the Schottic Socialist party leadership. The NMU had already declared for Amy Connell, which made that the easy option, no eyebrows raised. But Glen Hardcastle and the Connell’s had a bit of a weird relationship, defiantly something funny going on. Marc Gannen was the best man for the job, pure and simple, but Connell and Sabine Marditz had being female going for them. Finally having a female head of state had been the elephant in the room for the feminists for some time.

Yeah, Gannen is definitely out of the question. She though jumping out the shower and looking for a towel.

Although the house itself was an 18th century town house with many of the original features, it had been recently modernised, just before she moved in. The underfloor heating was a bit of a luxury, but she wasn’t complaining.

After struggling with her hair for a few minutes, she had just had it cut to a length that was irritating to tie back, she was ready to go. Freya blended herself a spinach, apple and avocado smoothie, pouring it into a glass bottle taken from the drying rack. She then hunted around for bit, before finding her car keys on top of the full sized snooker table which she had never used.

Which way would the sword of Damocles fall? Amy Connell or Sabine Marditz.

by **New Edom** » Mon Nov 03, 2014 2:45 am

Fineberg, New Edom

"My decision is final," said Perrin Pahath-Moab in a calm and cold voice. He stood, in his green barracks dress uniform, black beret tucked into an epaulet, facing a man with a somewhat square face, a squarish build, with small round glasses perched on a half-pyramid of a nose, a slash of a mouth that seemed too small for his large square solid jaw, wearing a darker blue uniform. "I intend to continue to carry out the peace mission to the best of my ability." His Airedale, nearby him, lifted his furry head and then lowered it to his paws again. The President lifted an eyebrow. "Was there anything else, Dr. Scroll?"

"Yes, Your Excellency," said the blunt headed man with a bow, revealing the hairs combed over the bald patch on his head. "In fact, I was actually also to present to you my appointment letters from the Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs--to be appointed Ambassador to Schottia, I understand that with the illness of Mr. John Touchstone he will be recalled to Fineberg..." he held out the letters, which the President ignored.

"Gallstones. He has an appalling foreign diet apparently," said Pahath-Moab idly looking down at his dog with a fond expression.

"Yes, Excellency. I have served the state loyally especially when it comes to foreign matters. My work in helping expedite the emigration of feminists, gays, lesbians, and communists has generally been considered very effective and merciful, and I was instrumental in forming the Gay Re-Education Centers which have enabled tens of thousands of perverted persons to lead normal healthy Christian lives. I have done several studies into sexual perversion and cures for them based on evidence of corruption and increase of STDs and unmarried pregnancies in foreign countries. I have also used New Macurean methods of investigating private use of entertainment such as literature or films for the investigation of anti-social criminals and potential traitors. Because of these qualifications, Mr. Dathan thought I would be the ideal person to become Ambassador to Schottia." He looked hopefully at the President, who had sat down and was stroking his dogs ears, and wasn't really apparently listening. The President looked up, his expression blank. Dr. Scroll tightened his jaw. "But if you don't think..."

The President waited.

Dr. Scroll sighed and began to put his letters away. "Then...well I suppose you know best, Excellency, if you do not wish to confirm--"

"I confirm the appointment," said Perrin Pahath-Moab with a warm smile, rising and clapping him on the arm. "You have done excellent work for the Allied States and the Interim Government."

To: High Council Leader Amy Connell
From: Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab, President of the Council of Ministers
Subject: Congratulations
Encryption: Moderate

Dear High Council Leader,

I would like to congratulate you on what has no doubt been a whirlwind election. With all the work of our National Elections Committee and the difficulty of re-establishing democracy in New Edom, I can only imagine the stress and difficulties you have experienced, and yet it appears you have achieved an unprecedented political victory.

I would like to ask if it is possible for the recently appointed Edomite Ambassador, Dr. Benjamin Scroll, to call upon you at a time suiting your convenience to discuss relations between our countries.

If there is anything I personally can do to welcome you to the company of government leaders of the region, please do not hesitate to ask.

I have the honour to be
Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab
President of the Council of Ministers

by **Schottia** » Wed Nov 05, 2014 3:43 am

Talk about hitting the ground running. Amy threw her jacket on the back of her chair, plugging her laptop into the dock. She didn’t need to look, she already knew she would have over 100 emails requesting various things of her. At the moment however she was only interested in the ones her PA had forwarded, the ones that had been filtered out as important. The requests to give seminars and talks would need to wait, in fact that was probably a part of her life she was going to need to put on hold for a few years.

Amy had already decided she was just going to stay on for one term, she hadn’t told anyone this but it was definitely the case. She wasn’t a career-politician, she was barely a politician. However, High Council Leader looks pretty good on a C.V.

Coordinating this election campaign was going to be tough. She needed to make sure she appointed the right person to run it. This was where she fell down a little, on experience. She knew she had the edge on most of them with her political theory, but regarding the nitty-gritty parts of running a country; she would need to make sure that was delegated perfectly. Amy was friends with most of the SSP big-shots, especially the younger ones, she needed to make sure that she had them all on side right from the off. Her first act had been to sit down with Marc Gannen and Sabine Marditz, her two defeated leadership rivals, and bring them back into the fold. She needed them close, Marc Gannen especially. Gannen was without a doubt one of the outstanding Councillors of his generation, he had everything going for him, everything except charisma that is.

To: Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab, President of the Council of Ministers
From: High Council Leader Amy Connell
Subject: Re: Congratulations
Encryption: Moderate

Dear President of the Council of Ministers,

Firstly I want to thank you for your kind words of support. It has, as you pointed out, been a difficult couple of months both personally and professionally. None of this is made easier, as I am sure you are more than aware, by the tumultus political climate we find ourselves in as a region.

Secondly may I send my best wishes to Her Majesty Queen Mara on her recent wedding, and my deepest regrets that I could not make it there in person. I’m sure you will understand that due to my then somewhat liminal status, it would not have been appropriate for me to attend.

I am indeed happy to meet your Ambassador Dr. Scroll, who is most welcome here in Schottia. Something that I hope my term in office will bring is closer relations with other nations. Have Dr. Scroll get in touch with my office and I will meet him personally at the first opportunity.

Your Sincerely,

Cllr. Amy Connell
High Council Leader, Schottic Socialist Party

by **New Edom** » Wed Nov 05, 2014 9:30 pm

The New Edomite Embassy, Handon, Schottia

Dr. Benjamin Scroll stood in the lobby of the embassy, which was a small embassy as Edomite ones went--a town house on embassy row with three stories, a metal fence around it, two sentries on duty at the gate, mostly dealing with the modest business travelers' concerns, tourists (mostly well off Edomites come to see football matches, the theater and other cultural elements), and some students, though sending students to Schottia was not popular because of the general political and social climate of the country.

He was wearing his civil service uniform, had his civil service and academic medal ribbons on, and looked around sternly, his cap off and under his arm. The Charge d'Affaires, Cultural Attache, Political Adviser, Legal Adviser and Security Detachment Commander all bowed as did the other staff.

"Welcome to Handon, Your Excellency!" said the Charge d'Affaires, a jovial looking man with a round face, a comfortable bearish body and a very stylish brown wig, wearing a three piece grey suit. "We are all sorry of course to see Mr. Touchstone leave, but we are very glad that there is a replacement so soon! We have laid out a little celebration of welcome--"

"Thank you, Mr. Tohu," said Dr. Scroll curtly. He did not smile. He walked through the lobby, looked around at the assembled staff. He looked at the portraits in the lobby, the shelf of pamphlets, the potted fig plants, the carpet, the people again. His eyes narrowed. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have reviewed your performance under Mr. Touchstone--the former Ambassador--and I have to express my utter displeasure. Our trade with Schottia is lukewarm, our influence virtually nil, our industry and goods barely welcome. I realize Mr. Touchstone had become ill--and I am prepared to generously attribute the failings of this office to that. However even if that is the case, it could also be due to your lack of support and advice to him. Therefore while I appreciate the warm welcome, what I want everyone to do is get down to work. There are initiatives that I understand are as yet unfinished and in some cases even properly begun." He looked everyone in the eye one by one. "We will get to that presently. I have a reputation at home for efficiency, and it will be upheld here. Of that...I can guarantee you."

Later, as he sat in the office which looked rather spartan due to Touchstone's personal touches being removed, he said to Tohu, "I understand that I have an appointment with the new Councillor. High Council. High Council Leader." He frowned, clealry not liking the way the title worked. "Very well. The arrangements have been properly made?"

"Yes, sir," said Tohu, in a more subdued manner than before. "About the work--"

Dr. Scroll nodded. "Yes. All performances will be reviewed. I have brought in special staff from home for that purpose so that your own desk will not be overloaded. Thank you, Mr. Tohu."

He looked up as the man left. Then he made a note for his secretary. In light of concerns about the climate and diet of this country playing havoc on New Edomite metabolic systems, all staff will begin starting tomorrow to have one half hour's vigorous exercise. It will be led by the senior NCO of the security detachment.

He changed from his uniform into a charcoal suit, made sure his breath was fresh, his face scrubbed and hands too (he showered twice a day with a natural sea salt, olive oil and lemon based soap) and headed down to his car to go to the meeting. Security was light for officials posted to Handon. He was very aware of the recent assassination of the Othmani Foreign Minister while visiting Fineberg. All was in the hands of God--and the President. Long may he rule.

by **Schottia** » Thu Nov 06, 2014 5:04 am

Amy Connell's flat, Calton Road, Handon

'Ah, fucking, god-almighty.' Muttered Amy, springing up in bed, grabbing her alarm clock. She had meant to give herself five minutes but must not have hit snooze properly; now she was running late. She sat up in bed rubbing her eyes, before tying back her morning hair, keeping it out of her face. 'Aaaargh.' She yelled out, meant as much as motivation as it was a frustration outlet.

She padded quickly through into the living-room come kitchen of her student flat, having not yet taken up her official residency. Her flat mate Rebecca was already up, scroling through some centre-left news page on her iPad as she nibbled at a slice of toast. In front of her was a nearly empty coffee pot, Rebecca having no doubt had her customary three cups.

'Hey sleepy bum.' She said playfully without looking up at her Head of State. 'In a change to legislation Ms Connell orders compulsory long-lies, for all cabinet ministers.' She smiled, still without looking up. Rebecca was wearing black hooded top with a colourful pair of pyjama bottoms, her dark, (almost black) curly hair sat in a mess atop her shoulders.

'Ha Ha.' Said Amy sarcastically, making straight for the kettle, checking the water level before switching it on. 'How come your out of your masturbation palace before eight anyway.' She asked as she took the coffee pot from the table rinsing it under the tap.

Rebecca laughed at this, looking up at her old companion with her friendly brown eyes.

'I'm taking these seminars latter on today, I need to do some reading for them, life of a PhD student eh?' She smiled showing two cute dimples, before looking back at her iPad. 'If you are making fresh coffee, I'll take another cup. How about you Councillor, I'm guessing you haven’t much on?'

'You would think so huh, given the fact that I over-slept.' She replied tapping her fingers on the kitchen worktop, along to a pop song on the radio, waiting for the kettle to boil. 'I actually have quite a big day. I have to visit Port Sebastian for a publicity stunt later on, after a meeting with the Edomite Ambassador to Schottia.'

This got Rebecca's attention who sat up, eyes wide, with a smile from ear to ear.

'Oh my god really! Is it to tell him how you are a bisexual atheist who is on the pill and has partaken in premarital relations?'

'I'm not bisexual?' Replied Amy looking miffed.

'Oh I always thought you were?' Said Rebecca looking equally confused.

'But... What? How could you even think that? I haven’t sex with a woman!'

'Ah, okay, I just always though that you were. Sorry.'

'Fucksake Rebecca, it really scares me that you now teach undergrads at university.' Amy filled up their cups with the overly strong black liquid. 'We have lived together for five years. How could you think I was... Wait you're joking aren't you? You're trying to wind me up?'

'Yeah, uhuh.' Said Rebecca looking back at the screen, although the response was a subject changer rather than an act of agreement.

---

A few hours latter a very different Amy arrived for her meeting with Dr. Scroll. Gone was the scruffy student; replaced with the immaculately dressed attractive young professional. Her auburn hair was now neatly tied back and she wore a dark-blue suit over a grey blouse and black tights. Over one shoulder was slung her laptop case, the pocket on the side containing her written notes and documentation. She was going to quickly meet with her staff and advisors, then she would see what the Edomite ambassador was made off.

Handon was beginning to come out of the Belisarian winter, which could be long and hard in the south of the continent. However, in the air there was definitely a freshness that signal spring was on the way. Wherever you went in the city there was a constant feeling that you were never far from the sea. Whether it was the gulls overhead, the many fish and chip shops, the scents of the harbour, or the fact that the wind seemed to blow in every season as some extreme caricature of itself.

'Your Excellency.' Said Amy giving a curt, and respectful nod of her head. 'First of all can I congratulate you on your appointment and assure you that you are most welcome in Schottia.'

She offered the man her hand, probably still soft from the vanilla hand cream she used after her shower. Amy had the feeling that this could be a bit of a tough gig, for both of them. She couldn't imagine that Schottia was either the most prestigious nor desirable post for any self respecting Edomite Ambassador. Trade, which would no doubt be a predominant topic of their discussions, had never been the easiest owing to Schottic market regulations. While relations between their nations existed, cultural and political differences probably kept them to a minimal level. Schottia's laws on issues such as: abortion, birth control, public spending, and religion, might make this something of an awkward meeting.

'Shall we take a seat Sir, I'm sure we have loads to discuss and being busy people we will both want to get through it as efficiently as is possible.' She smiled at the Ambassador warmly, with her sparkling blue eyes.

'Before we start, how is everything for you?' She was doing her best to keep up a friendly yet professional deportment. 'I trust that everything has been okay for you so far? Are you having any problems finding the things you need in the city?' She whipped her laptop case off from her shoulder, removing a notepad.

'Now I have made some notes on potential topics for our discussion; I trust you have probably done the same. I have no doubt that they will mostly cross over anyway: trade, international relations, Belisaria; I'm more than happy to talk-over whatever you feel is pertinent.'

by **New Edom** » Thu Nov 06, 2014 11:16 am

John Touchstone and Jan Connell had had an awkward relationship. The blunt but cunning High Council Leader whose deceptively crude energy hid a very determined policy had been meeting with a man who was frankly wrong for the job. The Foreign Ministry had underestimated Schottia's government, Pahath-Moab had been distracted when shortly after coming into power Damoclea had sent terrorists to try to wipe out the government and thus John Touchstone had been appointed. It had been a throwaway appointment to move the former President's younger brother out of the way. It had been felt that since he was experienced in trade and economics he would be a good fit.

The truth was that John Touchstone had always been a behind the scenes idea man, for all of his ability to charm people at parties. He had also fallen into depression after the coup, and had been waiting for a summons back or an ice pick to the back of the head, neither of which had happened. Depression, worry about what was going to happen to his country had been a constant source of fretting and as a result he had accomplished little in finding a chink in the armour of Schottic trade regulations.

Dr. Benjamin Scroll was aware of this as he shook hands with Amy Connell. She seemed startlingly young, but he also served a young President, only 7 years older. He bowed as he took the hand.

'Your Excellency.' Said Amy giving a curt, and respectful nod of her head. 'First of all can I congratulate you on your appointment and assure you that you are most welcome in Schottia.'

"Thank you very much, Madam High Council Leader," said Dr. Scroll. "I am very honoured to be here. And I would like to congratulate you on your election, and hope you have an excellent first term of office." He wondered, curiously, if it would be her last.

'Shall we take a seat Sir, I'm sure we have loads to discuss and being busy people we will both want to get through it as efficiently as is possible.' She smiled at the Ambassador warmly, with her sparkling blue eyes.

"Of course," he said, sitting down. This was something expected--people from Schottia, Callaban, Novitera, Thesum, Adiron--they certainly liked to get down to business. As though it was the only important thing in the world. He was also struck by her attractiveness.

'Before we start, how is everything for you?' She was doing her best to keep up a friendly yet professional deportment. 'I trust that everything has been okay for you so far? Are you having any problems finding the things you need in the city?' She whipped her laptop case off from her shoulder, removing a notepad.

"Oh, mostly a matter of culture shock," he said with a smile. "I am a Baran, you see, I am used to the idea of larger, more spread out official buildings, with large gardens, and I am used to warm dry weather. I don't suppose you can fix that, can you?"

'Now I have made some notes on potential topics for our discussion; I trust you have probably done the same. I have no doubt that they will mostly cross over anyway: trade, international relations, Belisaria; I'm more than happy to talk-over whatever you feel is pertinent.'

It was an odd little talk. He had been advised that a cluster of staff was not customary here, or he would have brought people to signify the importance of the meeting. It felt unsettlingly intimate and casual to him, but he had anticipated it, it was his duty, so he carried it out.

"Well first of all, I was advised that I should convey Queen Mara's warm congratulations on your election personally. She is on her honeymoon in Adiron right now." he couldn't help but smile. "She said she loved your hair in your photo op for the newspapers."

"There are some concerns about trade, yes," said Dr. Scroll. "First of all, there seems to be a complete lack of interest in our industry. Not merely for what we produce and put on the market but for our own labour market, we have made no inroads with this at all. There is no market here whatsoever for petroleum byproducts, fuels, metal products, electronics parts, pharmaceuticals. It is a very cost effective market for growing industry.

"By contrast, the markets of Schottia received in New Edom are wide and varied. We have some concern that Schottia is demonstrating preferential treatment."

by **Schottia** » Thu Nov 06, 2014 2:36 pm

"Oh, mostly a matter of culture shock," he said with a smile. "I am a Baran, you see, I am used to the idea of larger, more spread out official buildings, with large gardens, and I am used to warm dry weather. I don't suppose you can fix that, can you?"

'I wish Sir, I wish.' Said Amy laughing politely at his joke. 'However with my fair skin and redish hair I wouldn't stand much of a chance if the weather was like it is in New Edom.'

"Well first of all, I was advised that I should convey Queen Mara's warm congratulations on your election personally. She is on her honeymoon in Adiron right now." he couldn't help but smile. "She said she loved your hair in your photo op for the newspapers."

'Fantastic.' Replied Amy warmy. 'I trust your President has also passed on my own best wishes; and of course my apologies for not being able to attend in person.' Amy laughed again at the mention of her hair. 'Aw, the Edomite people are so lucky to have such a down to earth and genuinely warm person as their monarch. Although I think she is being overly kind, I had like three hairdressers help me.'

Amy listened, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed as Dr. Scroll listed his concerns regarding trade relations. It worried her too, but not for the same reasons. It was just very hard to brand New Edom as wholesome in Schottia, people eyes.

'Yeah, those are all perfectly legitimate concerns.' She said nodding in agreement. ' To address the first one, regarding industry; petroleum. We just don't really have much of a market for that sort of stuff here, what we do need we either produce ourselves, or source from the BL.' She added in a slightly apologetic tone. She was being very apologetic. She wondered how her father would have handled this kind of situation: probably from the backroom in Lords.

'The trade agreement we have with our allies down here is probably the biggest obstacle we have to trade with New Edom, in all honesty.' She opened up her laptop in case she needed to refer to any notes, biting her lip as she typed in the password. 'You know what though Sir? I am more than happy to sit down with you, and the appropriate officials regarding trade, and discuss this in fine detail. We should pencil something in for a meeting in MacAdam House. Edomite trade is not something I am willing to let go.'

Amy tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ears in a fast motion before peering at the screen. 'Sorry Sir.' She apologised for looking away from him.

'Yeah, we could do that any time you like. I just need to set up a date and get a union representative to sit in, as is our regulation.'

'Can I ask you a very blunt question Sir?' Amy closed the laptop firmly and turned back towards him, leaning in a little closer. 'In you opinion do the difficulties we face in regards to international relations come from our side? I guess what I'm trying to ask is; did the previous Schottic administration seem deliberately obstructive?'

by **New Edom** » Thu Nov 06, 2014 2:55 pm

Amy listened, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed as Dr. Scroll listed his concerns regarding trade relations. It worried her too, but not for the same reasons. It was just very hard to brand New Edom as wholesome in Schottia, people eyes.

'Yeah, those are all perfectly legitimate concerns.' She said nodding in agreement. ' To address the first one, regarding industry; petroleum. We just don't really have much of a market for that sort of stuff here, what we do need we either produce ourselves, or source from the BL.' She added in a slightly apologetic tone. She was being very apologetic. She wondered how her father would have handled this kind of situation: probably from the backroom in Lords.

'The trade agreement we have with our allies down here is probably the biggest obstacle we have to trade with New Edom, in all honesty.' She opened up her laptop in case she needed to refer to any notes, biting her lip as she typed in the password. 'You know what though Sir? I am more than happy to sit down with you, and the appropriate officials regarding trade, and discuss this in fine detail. We should pencil something in for a meeting in MacAdam House. Edomite trade is not something I am willing to let go.'

She seemed like a nice young woman. Of course Dr. Scroll was no unsophisticated peasant or urban worker--he understood that just because someone was a foreigner, an unbelieving atheist and a pervert didn't mean that they could be uncongenial. Look at how Vyrsarians made such good chocolate and had such nice ski resorts! However the key thing here was markets.

"I'm very glad to hear that, and I will pass that on to the President," said Dr. Scroll amiably. "And of course I don't expect this to be settled in a day, it is something we hope will create lasting good trade relations."

Amy tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ears in a fast motion before peering at the screen. 'Sorry Sir.' She apologised for looking away from him.

'Yeah, we could do that any time you like. I just need to set up a date and get a union representative to sit in, as is our regulation.'

'Can I ask you a very blunt question Sir?' Amy closed the laptop firmly and turned back towards him, leaning in a little closer. 'In you opinion do the difficulties we face in regards to international relations come from our side? I guess what I'm trying to ask is; did the previous Schottic administration seem deliberately obstructive?'

"Ah...a union representative," he said. Unions were different here. While in New Edom they simply protected things like workers' health, wages and hours, here they seemed to demand that Schottia's government suit them even in terms of its trade policy. He wasn't looking forward to that. He'd heard that this Hardcastle was a rare stubborn character and powerfully influential in the nation's politics. "Of course. And the answer is yes: there seems to have been a strong stance against opening up the Schottian market, and against what we feel is fair competition with some industries and products. One example would be agriculture. I am aware of the prominence of collective farming here. We are, it may interest you to know, increasingly encouraging community farming projects in New Edom, but perhaps with a somewhat different approach. There is both a broad approach from a national perspective accompanied by the communities being competitive with one another and on an international basis. A lot of modern business can be done that way thanks to the internet. I wonder if that has been considered at all, and if that might remove any...obstructions?"

by **Schottia** » Fri Nov 07, 2014 2:43 pm

"Ah...a union representative," he said.

'I'm afraid so Sir' Amy answered with a shrug. 'It's the way things are done here. All issues of national or international significance must have a "people's representitive" present when they are discussed.'

"Of course. And the answer is yes: there seems to have been a strong stance against opening up the Schottian market, and against what we feel is fair competition with some industries and products. One example would be agriculture. I am aware of the prominence of collective farming here. We are, it may interest you to know, increasingly encouraging community farming projects in New Edom, but perhaps with a somewhat different approach. There is both a broad approach from a national perspective accompanied by the communities being competitive with one another and on an international basis. A lot of modern business can be done that way thanks to the internet. I wonder if that has been considered at all, and if that might remove any...obstructions?"

'Yeah, I mean, that comes as no surprise to be honest. I think there has been a culture of that sort of thing.' She answered. 'My master's thesis topic was kind of on that subject, so I'm well versed.'

'Regarding the farming, I definitely think that that's something we can work with. It gives me a bit of an angle, something to use to try to paint New Edom in a favourable light. Now obviously this is just me speaking personally, and I can't make decisions like this alone, but I see no reason why we can't switch to Edomite suppliers for the majority of our off-season produce.' She shot him a smile as she took a small notepad from her bag, tapping the pen between her teeth as she tried to find the next blank page.

'So does all that sound okay Sir? We try to arrange a meeting at MacAdam house, HQ of the Schottic market, and I will keep up my side of the bargain in promoting the Edomite community farms.' Amy put her knuckle in her mouth as she paused to think.

'You know, actually, I will need all the information you can get me on that. Lets try and get that out there, let the public read it. I'm wondering If we could even work in some kind of state visit to see them in action; at some point I mean.'

Amy quickly took some notes. She was yet to master the art of shorthand so the chances of her being able to come back to them later was slim. Most of her notes looked like they had been taken by a spider with graphite roller-skates.

'So what else is there that you'd like to ask Your Excellency?' Amy put her notepad down, and sat back, crossing her legs.

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