Global Ball | IC | MT

[The Selkie]

The Diva takes to the stage and speaks:

"Thank you for that incredible performance. We have just witnessed the synchronisation of the heavens and the Earth, each of which abide together as one universe. Within that one universe, we are one planet, represented and gathered in one nation, but yet we pursue different causes and hold differing beliefs. The purpose of this Global Ball, ladies and gentlemen, as initiated by The United Regions of Verona, is to bring together and assimilate differing beliefs into one coherent system for the good of all humanity - one entity which manifests in many diverse and beautiful forms. I encourage all of you to approach not only those with whom you are familiar, but also those with whom you have differences, since it is the spectrum of difference between nations that allows for the varied existence of this beautiful planet. Glamour also encourages the optimal nurturing of all creeds, races and types of people, and the nurturing of the planet so that we may express our contrasts in a way that is creative and in harmony with the progression of the natural order. It is true that destruction breeds reformation and creation, but at this point in our history, the power that is in our hands is so great that to use it for destruction would herald the total ceasing of our own race and its capacity for creation. We are at a pivotal time in human history, and although the stars will continue unperturbed in the absence of the inhabitants of our pale blue dot, it is for the reason that we have come out of stardust that we should strive to be stars ourselves, and to illuminate the world with the light of peace, which comes in many different colours, but in any case is one brilliant white ray. It is a ray that can be projected from this room, out into the world, if power is used as a tool for good rather than for darkness. Darkness is everywhere in the universe, but even though we are only confined to a pale blue dot, the light that we can generate will surely be seen as a cornerstone for progress and humanity from every angle of the cosmos. I now cordially extend the Cocoa Leaf of welcome to all of you, and invite you to do the same to each other, so that many branches can extend throughout the one tree of life, and it can continue to grow as nature intended, instead of being uprooted and destroyed because of its own dehydration. Many winters are to come, but hand in hand with them is the march of the nascent spring, which will always lead to the logical conclusion at the root of our very nature when it is wiped clean of selfish influences - an eternal summer of the soul, and a flourishing and blossoming of the human race. Let us now eat, drink and be merry, while also holding in our hearts those who have no food and are suffering. The lower and higher tones are necessary for music to occur, but the music of the spheres is a hum of meditative stillness and equilibrium. The same harmonic resonance should be our aim here tonight."

The Diva raises her glass in a toast and leaves the stage.

Following the Diva's speech, many towers of Glamazonian champagne and rows upon rows of buffet tables wheel themselves into the Saffronian Theatre of Botanical and Natural Art, being directed in perfect synchronisation to arrange into a flower of life pattern around the venue, ensuring mathematically equidistant locations of the food and drink. Fountains of chocolate are activated, and bushes are moved on articulated platforms to reveal harpists, xylophonists, pianists, acoustic guitarists, brass and string sections, lit by spotlights, who are to play music for dancing and appreciation for the duration of the Ball. Specialist national cuisines and drinks have been specially imported and are available at the bar as well as lining the tables.

(Image)
(Image)


The first piece is a tango, and is designed to start the proceedings without hesitation. Around the room, many attendees take to the dancefloor, a process which is started by professional Glamazonian dancers, made and dressed to appear as inconspicuous guests.

"She certainly knows how to make a speech!", Críonna said to Marla as the two of them applauded, his younger companion with thoughts on her face. "I am sure someone recorded it, if you have any thoughts on it."
Marla shook her head, making her wild locks bounce a bit. "No, I think I am good. She raised a few very good points, I believe."
Críonna smiled at her. "Oh, my dear Searrach, don't believe, know! And think about it later, we aren't only here for amusement, now are we?"
"No, Sir." The young sportswoman smiled broadly, despite having to work for her nation - still, she threw proper decorum in the wind, as she punched Críonna on the arm in a playful manner. "But there is only one man in the whole wide world, who is allowed to call me Searrach, no matter how much the Diva says about us all being equals."
The old man nodded. "Then it shall be that way.", he said in a very posh tone and offered his arm. "Now, may I ask the lady to join me?"
"But of course!", Marla replied in the same tone, a bit more mocking thanks to her accent, and hooked herself onto the arm of the older man - the only man she was allowed to go out with more or less unsupervised, thanks to her slightly overprotective father. Well, he isn't here now, now is he?, she thought.
Just as the two wanted to move, the buffet and drinks appeared, wheeling in and positioning themselved to be in perfect reach - someone showed a lot of dedication with the towers, as well as much patience, far more then any Selkie could offer with such a thing. Marla admired it a bit, a sportswoman always knew to honour patience, skill and the will, to use both.
As the music, a lively rhythm, started and the first people filled the dance floor, the two of them began to move towards the Diva to pay their respects to their host and to have a few words with her. After that, the two of them would mingle with the present elites, representing their own country, their tribes and the Selkie.
It was going to be a good evening, Críonna knew that.

[Kwadai]

The princes intentively listened to Lazia talk about the various topics including the ball and her reports about the ongoing war with Teramore. "Well I wouldn't consider this to be formal from the way it seems organised", Aamir replied flatly. "KwaDai wishes your country all the best in the war and hopes for a favourable outcome. Oil will always be a good temporary source of income for the country. We've been producing oil since 1985 after our independence from France and Italy. Oil was discovered in the desert in 1977 accidentally but it was kept quiet until we became a country so that France and Italy wouldn't benefit from it. They poured billions into the country to begin building it out of the desert without knowing of the vast growing wealth being stored secretly. Then we we became free we kept the exisitng Italian and French money and increased it to an imaginable scale from selling oil to the world at ridiculously high prices and using the money to create KwaDai to the standard it now is at and will become. We're diversifying from oil of course too so we can be prepared for when it eventually runs out", he finished off briskly.

[Glamour]

The Diva takes to the stage and speaks:

"Thank you for that incredible performance. We have just witnessed the synchronisation of the heavens and the Earth, each of which abide together as one universe. Within that one universe, we are one planet, represented and gathered in one nation, but yet we pursue different causes and hold differing beliefs. The purpose of this Global Ball, ladies and gentlemen, as initiated by The United Regions of Verona, is to bring together and assimilate differing beliefs into one coherent system for the good of all humanity - one entity which manifests in many diverse and beautiful forms. I encourage all of you to approach not only those with whom you are familiar, but also those with whom you have differences, since it is the spectrum of difference between nations that allows for the varied existence of this beautiful planet. Glamour also encourages the optimal nurturing of all creeds, races and types of people, and the nurturing of the planet so that we may express our contrasts in a way that is creative and in harmony with the progression of the natural order. It is true that destruction breeds reformation and creation, but at this point in our history, the power that is in our hands is so great that to use it for destruction would herald the total ceasing of our own race and its capacity for creation. We are at a pivotal time in human history, and although the stars will continue unperturbed in the absence of the inhabitants of our pale blue dot, it is for the reason that we have come out of stardust that we should strive to be stars ourselves, and to illuminate the world with the light of peace, which comes in many different colours, but in any case is one brilliant white ray. It is a ray that can be projected from this room, out into the world, if power is used as a tool for good rather than for darkness. Darkness is everywhere in the universe, but even though we are only confined to a pale blue dot, the light that we can generate will surely be seen as a cornerstone for progress and humanity from every angle of the cosmos. I now cordially extend the Cocoa Leaf of welcome to all of you, and invite you to do the same to each other, so that many branches can extend throughout the one tree of life, and it can continue to grow as nature intended, instead of being uprooted and destroyed because of its own dehydration. Many winters are to come, but hand in hand with them is the march of the nascent spring, which will always lead to the logical conclusion at the root of our very nature when it is wiped clean of selfish influences - an eternal summer of the soul, and a flourishing and blossoming of the human race. Let us now eat, drink and be merry, while also holding in our hearts those who have no food and are suffering. The lower and higher tones are necessary for music to occur, but the music of the spheres is a hum of meditative stillness and equilibrium. The same harmonic resonance should be our aim here tonight."

The Diva raises her glass in a toast and leaves the stage.

Following the Diva's speech, many towers of Glamazonian champagne and rows upon rows of buffet tables wheel themselves into the Saffronian Theatre of Botanical and Natural Art, being directed in perfect synchronisation to arrange into a flower of life pattern around the venue, ensuring mathematically equidistant locations of the food and drink. Fountains of chocolate are activated, and bushes are moved on articulated platforms to reveal harpists, xylophonists, pianists, acoustic guitarists, brass and string sections, lit by spotlights, who are to play music for dancing and appreciation for the duration of the Ball. Specialist national cuisines and drinks have been specially imported and are available at the bar as well as lining the tables.

(Image)
(Image)


The first piece is a tango, and is designed to start the proceedings without hesitation. Around the room, many attendees take to the dancefloor, a process which is started by professional Glamazonian dancers, made and dressed to appear as inconspicuous guests.

"She certainly knows how to make a speech!", Críonna said to Marla as the two of them applauded, his younger companion with thoughts on her face. "I am sure someone recorded it, if you have any thoughts on it."
Marla shook her head, making her wild locks bounce a bit. "No, I think I am good. She raised a few very good points, I believe."
Críonna smiled at her. "Oh, my dear Searrach, don't believe, know! And think about it later, we aren't only here for amusement, now are we?"
"No, Sir." The young sportswoman smiled broadly, despite having to work for her nation - still, she threw proper decorum in the wind, as she punched Críonna on the arm in a playful manner. "But there is only one man in the whole wide world, who is allowed to call me Searrach, no matter how much the Diva says about us all being equals."
The old man nodded. "Then it shall be that way.", he said in a very posh tone and offered his arm. "Now, may I ask the lady to join me?"
"But of course!", Marla replied in the same tone, a bit more mocking thanks to her accent, and hooked herself onto the arm of the older man - the only man she was allowed to go out with more or less unsupervised, thanks to her slightly overprotective father. Well, he isn't here now, now is he?, she thought.
Just as the two wanted to move, the buffet and drinks appeared, wheeling in and positioning themselved to be in perfect reach - someone showed a lot of dedication with the towers, as well as much patience, far more then any Selkie could offer with such a thing. Marla admired it a bit, a sportswoman always knew to honour patience, skill and the will, to use both.
As the music, a lively rhythm, started and the first people filled the dance floor, the two of them began to move towards the Diva to pay their respects to their host and to have a few words with her. After that, the two of them would mingle with the present elites, representing their own country, their tribes and the Selkie.
It was going to be a good evening, Críonna knew that.

The Diva witnesses the approaching Selkie delegates from her periphery and her attention is instantly drawn towards them completely, since the E.F.A.G. database highlights the nation as one with much of the same philosophies and approaches as the very one that she herself serves and represents.

"Good evening, Marla; Donald," she says casually, following the traditional Glamazonian etiquette of treating those with whom one is known to be congruent with as friends, whilst treating enemies like simply non-entities, continuing with an outstretched hand and addressing Donald, primarily, "an honour to meet you, kind soul. And I am enchanted by your presence here as well, Marla. I do know that this Ball is perhaps a bit of a shock to the system at times, but we in Glamour see nothing wrong with that, if truth be told. In fact, we revel in such things. Our traditional approach is to consistently strive to revamp tradition. Did you know that in Glamour, a plain tuxedo is considered informal? The laziness of the thought behind it is really our justification for this. To us, everyone showing up in the same outfit, only distinguishable from one another by the arbitrary 'quality' variation of their different suits, as if having a finer one grants automatic formality, status, etiquette and the impression that the occasion is somehow important in the eyes of the wearer because of the fineness of their suit gracing their body during their attendance, is really very disingenuous. We all know that to a man with many fine suits, wearing a fine suit to an occasion means absolutely nothing, and so does not truly honour the occasion. To each their own, of course, but between you guys and myself, I regard fashion as a form of high art. The Mona Lisa is gorgeous, but nobody wants to go to a museum filled with many replicas, or else one would not appreciate the original as much as for its uniqueness in amongst many other unique and beautiful works. And on that note, I really am moved by your clearly very rich and symbolic dress to hear more about its inspiration. Tell me about yourselves! And by yourselves, of course, I mean your nation." She winks, and adds, "You can tell me about yourselves later. Technically I would say we are still bound by the duties of our office. But this is a Ball, after all, and so I would suggest that we will perhaps feel less bound after about... what, five, six whiskies?"

She claps her hands twice in quick succession, looking intently at Críonna and Marla as though emphasising the drama of the gesture, and within what seems like only enough time for them to draw breath in response, the venue staff as directed by the Cultural Liaisons Association of Glamour, who are trained on the Diva's every action and word from behind the scenes, arrive with a tray of a selection of fine international whiskies, a jug of water and a cut amethyst bowl containing ice tetrahedrons. Even, it seems, ice cubes are not conventional in Glamour, but instead carry a fascinating, surrealist pretentiousness.

[New Edom]

OOC: Post below collaborated between Ghant and New Edom; please feel free to interact with characters separately if you'd like to.
IC:
The Royal Party from New Edom had elected to stay at the Hive, which Colonel Josephus privately told Dr.Aphek, “Is like staying on the set of a science fiction movie. What a vulgar ghastly place to take our darling Princess too.”

“Less of your spleen, Colonel,” Dr. Aphek had reproved him with a smile. “Both the Dowager and the Regent believe it very important that she learn the ways of the world, and they are right. Your protectiveness does you credit of course.”

The city’s architecture and stunning landscapes both dazzled and overwhelmed the Edomites, even by the standards of the richest Cornellian cities the sheer consistency of the creative of the cityscapes was shocking to them. Only Callaban City (to which none of them had ever been) even approached it.

Jocasta was bathed, oiled, massaged, had her hair done, toes and fingernails, and had then relaxed listening to briefings about the situation back home while the final stages of dressing were done. Dr. Aphek’s rather rich tones kept her interested while he read from reports to her as her naked gold dusted maids scurred around her like she really was a Queen Bee appropriate to her suite. The election troubles, voters being prevented from registering to vote by hostile militias, negotiations and points of order about the peace talks, frantic worries about the strikes and demonstrations in the industrial heart of New Edom.

Countess Jabbok, in a dark green gown with a woven sea-blue underskirt and bared plump but attractive arms, her dark hair in a sensuous coil and emerald hairpins, came to oversee the final dressing stages; Jocasta grunted and gasped as her corset was put on. “A note to my beloved cousin--I will not tolerate further outrages against loyal citizens by fanatical rebels...Bara Province is the Royal...oof!...Province, not the private preserve of Governor Tannach! He was placed there, he can be replaced...ah...enough, enough!” she said, slapping her maids’ hands away. “The chemise and then the dress! I can’t believe Queen Adah used to dress this way all the time...you know what I don’t want to be that authentic, I changed my mind, loosen it! Oh my gosh, I can barely breathe!”

Over this went the delicate embroidered chemise, that fell to just below her shapely hips, and then the taffeta and silk scarlet gown, the corset helping to thrust up her already full bosom to magnificent prominence, the green feathers in her dark hair piled into a crown, a little blue-silver eyeshadow, blushing emphasis on her full mouth. Her new necklace and the new crown, dark and ivory together, a stark contrast. “In a strange place of unbelievers and hedonists...but I am ready. I am ready for anything, to be courteous to anyone, to demonstrate that I can serve my country well…” she mused, turning this way and that. She smiled at Countess Jabbok and Delphinia.

Later, listening to the speech with King Consort Michael and her courtiers nearby, dressed in their formal court uniforms with appropriate decorations or dressed, aides hovering but not getting in the way of socializing, she murmured to King Michael, “She has a beautiful speaking voice, but it’s a lot of hippy drivel. Only people who live in such a rich country could think so...and yet I hear they have a formidable military force and strong finances. So…” she smiled at him, “It’s a lot of poppycock then. It’s a glitzy version of Novitera or Callaban, this. Still, one has one’s guest duties, nay?” However the music that began shortly after enchanted her.

The King Consort was dressed in a finely tailored suit that was more than adequate for the occasion at hand. His black hair was cut short, his face clean shaven, and his thoughtful deep blue eyes took in what there was to see. “I wonder how anyone ever gets anything done around here with the sheer extravagance and gaudiness. It’s almost if they are trying to impress the world with it, wouldn’t you say?” Michael asked with a grin. “Oh, and you should know that you look absolutely radiant. I would be hard pressed to find any portrait of any great lady that could even match a mere fraction of your beauty.”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things,” Jocasta said. “Prettier than the Diva or the Queen Empress, hmm?”

“Yes. Even prettier than Princess Delilah of Dakmoor, the Princess that was so beautiful, a war was fought for her hand.” Michael assured her with a beaming smile.

“Well…” Jocasta examined the nearest champagne pyramid and took a glass, and raised it. She forced herself to avoid the chocolate fountain, just a soupcon perhaps later on maybe... “Well, we’ve done well to make it so far. Here’s to a better year!”

Michael nodded and did the same, grabbing a nearby glass from the same pyramid. He raised his glass and said, “to a better year!”

[Looking for Love]

IC:

Jocasta was bathed, oiled, massaged, had her hair done, toes and fingernails, and had then relaxed listening to briefings about the situation back home while the final stages of dressing were done. Dr. Aphek’s rather rich tones kept her interested while he read from reports to her as her naked gold dusted maids scurred around her like she really was a Queen Bee appropriate to her suite. The election troubles, voters being prevented from registering to vote by hostile militias, negotiations and points of order about the peace talks, frantic worries about the strikes and demonstrations in the industrial heart of New Edom.

Jocasta grunted and gasped as her corset was put on. “A note to my beloved cousin--I will not tolerate further outrages against loyal citizens by fanatical rebels...Bara Province is the Royal...oof!...Province, not the private preserve of Governor Tannach! He was placed there, he can be replaced...ah...enough, enough!” she said, slapping her maids’ hands away. “The chemise and then the dress! I can’t believe Queen Adah used to dress this way all the time...you know what I don’t want to be that authentic, I changed my mind, loosen it! Oh my gosh, I can barely breathe!”

Over this went the delicate embroidered chemise, that fell to just below her shapely hips, and then the taffeta and silk scarlet gown, the corset helping to thrust up her already full bosom to magnificent prominence, the green feathers in her dark hair piled into a crown, a little blue-silver eyeshadow, blushing emphasis on her full mouth. Her new necklace and the new crown, dark and ivory together, a stark contrast. “In a strange place of unbelievers and hedonists...but I am ready. I am ready for anything, to be courteous to anyone, to demonstrate that I can serve my country well…” she mused, turning this way and that. She smiled at Countess Jabbok and Delphinia.

Later, listening to the speech with King Consort Michael and her courtiers nearby, dressed in their formal court uniforms with appropriate decorations or dressed, aides hovering but not getting in the way of socializing, she murmured to King Michael, “She has a beautiful speaking voice, but it’s a lot of hippy drivel. Only people who live in such a rich country could think so...and yet I hear they have a formidable military force and strong finances. So…” she smiled at him, “It’s a lot of poppycock then. It’s a glitzy version of Novitera or Callaban, this. Still, one has one’s guest duties, nay?” However the music that began shortly after enchanted her.

The King Consort was dressed in a finely tailored suit that was more than adequate for the occasion at hand. His black hair was cut short, his face clean shaven, and his thoughtful deep blue eyes took in what there was to see. “I wonder how anyone ever gets anything done around here with the sheer extravagance and gaudiness. It’s almost if they are trying to impress the world with it, wouldn’t you say?” Michael asked with a grin. “Oh, and you should know that you look absolutely radiant. I would be hard pressed to find any portrait of any great lady that could even match a mere fraction of your beauty.”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things,” Jocasta said. “Prettier than the Diva or the Queen Empress, hmm?”

“Yes. Even prettier than Princess Delilah of Dakmoor, the Princess that was so beautiful, a war was fought for her hand.” Michael assured her with a beaming smile.

“Well…” Jocasta examined the nearest champagne pyramid and took a glass, and raised it. She forced herself to avoid the chocolate fountain, just a soupcon perhaps later on maybe... “Well, we’ve done well to make it so far. Here’s to a better year!”

Michael nodded and did the same, grabbing a nearby glass from the same pyramid. He raised his glass and said, “to a better year!”

Bekkah thought she heard mention of an Empress Queen, she walked over to the lovely young woman standing a few feet from her.

"Hello," Bekkah began as she got the young woman's attention, "I am Empress Queen Rebekkahlynn Rosabell Geneva Loveland, (Bekkah for short) Empress Queen of Loveland! *bowing* And what are you called, your highness?"

Waiting for a reply, Bekkah walked back over to RooGa, wanting to continue conversation.
"How are you RooGa?" Bekkah asked over the music, "Are you enjoying yourself? Are there any other questions you have for me?"

[The Selkie]

[...]

The Diva witnesses the approaching Selkie delegates from her periphery and her attention is instantly drawn towards them completely, since the E.F.A.G. database highlights the nation as one with much of the same philosophies and approaches as the very one that she herself serves and represents.

"Good evening, Marla; Donald," she says casually, following the traditional Glamazonian etiquette of treating those with whom one is known to be congruent with as friends, whilst treating enemies like simply non-entities, continuing with an outstretched hand and addressing Donald, primarily, "an honour to meet you, kind soul. And I am enchanted by your presence here as well, Marla. I do know that this Ball is perhaps a bit of a shock to the system at times, but we in Glamour see nothing wrong with that, if truth be told. In fact, we revel in such things. Our traditional approach is to consistently strive to revamp tradition. Did you know that in Glamour, a plain tuxedo is considered informal? The laziness of the thought behind it is really our justification for this. To us, everyone showing up in the same outfit, only distinguishable from one another by the arbitrary 'quality' variation of their different suits, as if having a finer one grants automatic formality, status, etiquette and the impression that the occasion is somehow important in the eyes of the wearer because of the fineness of their suit gracing their body during their attendance, is really very disingenuous. We all know that to a man with many fine suits, wearing a fine suit to an occasion means absolutely nothing, and so does not truly honour the occasion. To each their own, of course, but between you guys and myself, I regard fashion as a form of high art. The Mona Lisa is gorgeous, but nobody wants to go to a museum filled with many replicas, or else one would not appreciate the original as much as for its uniqueness in amongst many other unique and beautiful works. And on that note, I really am moved by your clearly very rich and symbolic dress to hear more about its inspiration. Tell me about yourselves! And by yourselves, of course, I mean your nation." She winks, and adds, "You can tell me about yourselves later. Technically I would say we are still bound by the duties of our office. But this is a Ball, after all, and so I would suggest that we will perhaps feel less bound after about... what, five, six whiskies?"

She claps her hands twice in quick succession, looking intently at Críonna and Marla as though emphasising the drama of the gesture, and within what seems like only enough time for them to draw breath in response, the venue staff as directed by the Cultural Liaisons Association of Glamour, who are trained on the Diva's every action and word from behind the scenes, arrive with a tray of a selection of fine international whiskies, a jug of water and a cut amethyst bowl containing ice tetrahedrons. Even, it seems, ice cubes are not conventional in Glamour, but instead carry a fascinating, surrealist pretentiousness.

The older diplomat took the hand in his gloved, bowed down slightly and kissed her hand very gently, a charming smile on his lips, his tone very formal. "Good evening, Diva. Thank you for hosting this event. Seeing everything in motion, even I, a proud Selkie, have to admit, that out bid for hosting would have been without any chance."
The two were slightly thrown off at the Diva already knowing their names, since it was usual for them to first introduce themselves. Marla had a small dagger going through her heart, as the older man admitted the Selkie's inability to host the Global Ball.
Next Year..., she thought, as she went for a more traditional way of greeting their host: With her hand over her heart, slightly buried in the fur of her holder, she lowered her head, a gesture usually resered for a tribal Elder. "Dia duit, Diva.", she greeted the older woman. "In the name of the Selkie, I thank you for your kindness."
As Críonna released her hand, the two of them visibly relaxed.
"Well then.", the older man said and took one of the offered whiskies without one of the beautiful shaped ice cubes, "With that concluded, let's get to the more relaxed part of this evening, don't you agree, Marla?"
The Marcach grinned back, as she took a whisky herself. "Yes, why not?", she asked before turning to the Diva. "You asked about the Free Lands, specifically the Geansai. Well, I have to admit, that I do not know about its inspiration, because it's been along for millenia by now, more or less unchanged over the course of time, but I can tell you aboput its meaning." With a slightly emberrased smile, she cleared her throat. "You see, we Selkie are people devided into fifteen tribes, namely Galway, Sligo, Laois, Louth, Cork, Tipperary, Waterford, Fingal, Antrim, Cavan, Fermanagh, Kildare, Wicklow, Monaghan and Westmeath.
Each of these tribes has its own Elders and Geansai, all in different colours and small differences, at past times a way of saying 'I belong to this tribe.', today more a way of saying, that we are Selkie and that we see ourselves as Selkie without a social rank. That is why for example military decorations are forbidden to be worn with it.
Additionally, some of the cults have Geansais as well. In fact, mine...", she shifted her weight slightly to show the colours of the Geansai a bit more, "...shows, that I am a servant to Carman Fea, the ancient goddess of War and Science, while Mister Críonna's...", the older man bowed his head, "...says, that he is of the Tribe of Louth."
That was the point, where the older man took over to let his companion have a sip of her drink. "But not all Louths were the same Geansai. You see, I was born in Palmwood, down in Cornwall - warm and lovely down there, but not where we normally come from. That would be the Stithians, in the Northern Coastlands, between the Sharp Creek and the Mhuir Mountains. My parents were from the Creek, from a place close to lovely Inis, and so I wear my Geansai's folds...", he pointed to the kind-of flaps on his chest, which had a white line running along them, "...in a lighter shade of blue then someone from for example Greystoke. My mother used to wear her skirt straight, while my aunt had hers in pleats, for she was of a clan and line, but from the same tribe.
The fur usually is real fur, mostly hunted down with bow and arrow in the fields and plains and woods of our home. We hunt animals with greatest for them and the woods, only as much as we need and not more - no one will bother you, though, when you wear artificial fur, though."
"We love to do things the old fashioned way, but do not have anything against modern technology as well.", Marla explained with a smile. "You will see many of us have a cell phone and in the Free Lands, there is hardly any spot with bad reception, but if you want to travel longer distances, you usually do not take a car, but a horse, a cart or, if you need to go long distances faster, a train with a steam engine.
And although the farms especially might look to you, like they haven't changed since the Dark Ages, I can guarantee you, that they are warm and cozy during winter. Speaking of farms and winter, what do the Glamorians eat?", she asked in a curious tone, before explaining with slight embarrasment: "You see, we like to think, that one can truly measure other people by what they eat, so for a Selkie cuisine is an integral part to culture."
"Be happy, that Leonard isn't here.", Críonna threw in with a mischievous smile, "He would have eaten himself through every piece of cheese available by now!"

[United Regions of Verona]

LAZIA

Lazia judged momentarily KwaDai's main industry. "I would recommend you latch onto viable industries quickly, perhaps try and make more off industries other than oil then the oil industry itself. KwaDai's economy may be hit hard when the oil goes - Mass loss of jobs, and the other industries added may even make less then the oil once did. Verona's largest industries are electronics, vehicles, which include air, land and sea, and furniture. There are many major Veronan furniture companies and franchises with stores outside of Verona, such as Kobai. It's the largest of the type in Verona, and it's owned by the government. It specialises in... Cheap, reliable furniture. Most of it's furniture is pretty basic, but strong and reliable. Because of it's lack in style, it's rather cheap. Our electronics companies are many, with the largest being Blume, albeit the largest exported of electronics is Vantaa, where it's privately owned, and the second largest electronics company in Verona, although Blume is quadruple it's size, also government owned. The largest vehicle company is Kendl Motor Company, which is privately owned, and supplies the government with land vehicles. Then there is Ruyukia Transport, which is government owned, and builds both military and civilian aircraft, and military and civilian watercraft. It's globally famous for building the Ruyukia 89, named after the year it first flew, 1989. It has very popular stretched versions, but the original 160-seater is the most popular, with 1/4 of the 80 Family being the original 89. Around 7,500 to 8,000 of the 80 Family have been made, maybe some no longer in operation, with one taking off literally every second!"

[New Edom]

A beautiful woman in a flowing evening dress approached just as Jocasta and Michael were drinking their champagne. "I am Empress Queen Rebekkahlynn Rosabell Geneva Loveland, (Bekkah for short) Empress Queen of Loveland! *bowing* And what are you called, your highness?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, I know you by reputation and by your photos in magazines; I am Princess Jocasta, Heir of the Allied States of New Edom--" began Jocasta, only to her astonishment the woman then wandered off to talk to someone else. She blinked in surprise, looked at Michael, shrugged and continued her conversation. "Anyway...that was weird, by the way...I'm afraid that my own ideas for a ball seem very pedestrian and old fashioned compared to this one. At times I wonder if we are old fashioned, the courts of our countries? Yours with the old fashioned ball gowns, the candles and all that, my country with the etiquette and formality. This is like the World Vision song contest or something--all glitz and well...glamour in Glamour I suppose, nay?"

At the same time, Dr. Paul Aphek was talking with Countess Jabbok and Colonel Josephus while they kept an eye on Jocasta. "A remarkable collection of people and costumes. It was a good idea, my friends, to bring the Heir here."

"Yes. It's such a shame," sighed Countess Jabbok.

"What's a shame?" Colonel Josephus asked, then sipping his own glass of champagne.

Countess Jabbok shrugged her plump pretty bared shoulders. "Just that the Heir and Prince Michael make such a lovely couple, and yet he is married to our Mad Queen who does not appreciate him. I think people are far too hard on him, and the Queen Dowager sees such promise in him--and in her."

"I agree," said Colonel Josephus with a barely concealed sigh of his own. His own dreams were but vapour, but he could experience happiness vicariously.

"A marriage is all too often a gamble," Jabbok said, thinking of her own husband, no doubt snoring with a paper fallen on his lap in their town house in Fineberg. "But you can help others learn from your own errors, yes?"

"And do your duty for the country, through its hope of the future," said Dr. Aphek softly looking at his protegee.

[Looking for Love]

A beautiful woman in a flowing evening dress approached just as Jocasta and Michael were drinking their champagne. "I am Empress Queen Rebekkahlynn Rosabell Geneva Loveland, (Bekkah for short) Empress Queen of Loveland! *bowing* And what are you called, your highness?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, I know you by reputation and by your photos in magazines; I am Princess Jocasta, Heir of the Allied States of New Edom--" began Jocasta, only to her astonishment the woman then wandered off to talk to someone else. She blinked in surprise, looked at Michael, shrugged and continued her conversation. "Anyway...that was weird, by the way...I'm afraid that my own ideas for a ball seem very pedestrian and old fashioned compared to this one. At times I wonder if we are old fashioned, the courts of our countries? Yours with the old fashioned ball gowns, the candles and all that, my country with the etiquette and formality. This is like the World Vision song contest or something--all glitz and well...glamour in Glamour I suppose, nay?"

"I'm sorry," Bekkah said as she returned to the Princess, "Since I'm very new to all these balls, I have a habit of asking questions, and then walking away without an answer! I apologize! Now where were we, Princess Jocasta, heir to the throne of the Allied States of New Edom?"

[Kwadai]

The two Princes nodded simultaneously. "That's why tourism is really massive in KwaDai, since 2004 when my father began ruling KwaDai the country mass invited tourists from around the world to come in and spend money in KwaDai. We have only ever targeted the higher markets by having luxury hotels, airports, malls, everything you can think of. That way more money is being spent in the country. Then the largest tourism boost arrived in 2006 when everything really just took off we had a massive economic growth between 1992 and 2001 then it slowed a little until 2006 where it just rocketed again and it's only been getting better, more expats coming to KwaDai to work especially from western countries. The mimimum wage is very high, there are no taxes except the alcohol tax, standard of living is extremely high, healthcare and education is highly advanced and even something close to being considered poor is nonexistent. We have a policy that means expats cannot stay longer than two weeks in the country unemployed. We have however been previously accused of mistreating South Asian workers, though I assure you, we are doing everything we can to prevent this happening. For tourists there are no hotels less than three stars in the country and even at that a three star hotel is difficult to find and would be considered four star in most countries. Entertainment and sightseeing is very good also and crime doesn't exist and anyone who commits it will most certainly regret it no matter how minor. Another large industry is manufacturing cars which is centred around Muzoon Economic City in Misrata. Our furniture industry is quite small we prefer to import our furniture from international high end companies", Jafaar explained.

[Ghant]

Michael, King Consort of New Edom and Prince of Dakmoor, floated around the champagne table, drinking steadily...one after the other. A flow, it seemed, like the trickling of water down a drain...into the maw and descending into the gullet. Best time to get drunk off your ass is at a ball, Michael thought.

Yet he lingered, his conscious still somewhat clear, despite his proclivities being oft lamented facts of Ghantish lore. He observed Jocasta with some sadness...a figment of his dissonance, of which there was anything but harmony. Why was she never around before Michael got married to Mara? Why was she so hidden away? The finest treasures in life are those hidden.

Despite that, all Michael could really do was shrug and laugh it off...what was he supposed to do? This was the Global Ball afterall, and there was no point in wasting it with wallowing in self-pity. And yet, was there anyone there really worth talking to? Anything worth exploring beyond the champagne table that nourished his inner turmoil? His mind beseeched him to urge his feet forward, but alas they would not budge. So in place he stayed.

He watched his sister-in-law instead. Her form to him was like an oasis in a dune to a wanderer. He could see it, perceive it...but was it real? When he reached for it, it seemed to flicker like an illusion. The agony...the torment...of knowing that she wasn't his. But the kiss...that was real. It tasted of paradise, if there was such a thing. And if there was, Michael had to wonder...will I ever know what that is? Maybe...maybe not. Besides if he drank enough, would it really matter one way or the other?

In the dull haze of buzzed eyes, Michael espied what could only have been some great female sovereign approach Jocasta...he recognized her from somewhere...but where? I know who that is...but it escapes me...damnit! In order to remember what it was, he moved a bit closer to where she was, to better hear her speak.

"Hello...I am Empress Queen Rebekkahlynn Rosabell Geneva Loveland, Empress Queen of Loveland! He heard her introduce herself to Jocasta.

Rebekkahlynn of Loveland...that was her name! Michael though as he nodded with champagne in his hand. ...What kind of name is that, anyway? For fucksake. At least she went by Bekkah...that was a little more sensible. It wasn't without a sense of astonishment to see her walk away abruptly, to which Jocasta looked at Michael. He loved it when she looked at him...like the sun upon a flower. it made him smile wide and raise his champagne glass.

Jocasta spoke to Michael thusly. "Anyway...that was weird, by the way...I'm afraid that my own ideas for a ball seem very pedestrian and old fashioned compared to this one. At times I wonder if we are old fashioned, the courts of our countries? Yours with the old fashioned ball gowns, the candles and all that, my country with the etiquette and formality. This is like the World Vision song contest or something--all glitz and well...glamour in Glamour I suppose, nay?"

Michael nodded and thought of how to respond. "That was odd...she just came and left...but she will be back, I think." he considered what she said about her notion. "I wouldn't call them pedestrian as much as refined and graceful. There is a certain charm to old-fashioned...that is why that is what you see in fairy tales and romantic stories, because of the appeal of it. Just listen to the music...I mean sure, you can have dancing to that, but it lacks the intimacy of the slow orchestral dance, where steps are in sync, bodies near...you get the idea."

The King Consort took a drink from his champagne again. "Are our courts old fashioned...in some ways yes. But if they weren't...well, I don't think I would like them as much. Would you?" Then he laughed at the last bit. "Of course there would be glamour in Glamour...and the glamorous. And who is more glamorous than thee? None, so far as I can see," Michael rhymed with a smile.

Then Bekka returned, and spoke to Jocasta once more. "I'm sorry...since I'm very new to all these balls, I have a habit of asking questions, and then walking away without an answer! I apologize! Now where were we, Princess Jocasta, heir to the throne of the Allied States of New Edom?"

Michael had to refrain from laughing at how awkward that sounded. New to all these balls, eh? he thought...he dared not say anything about that aloud, if only to keep respect the integrity of his beloved Jocasta.

[New Edom]

Loveland and Ghant

"Well, this is my brother in law, Michael of Dakmoor, the King-Consort, married to my sister, Queen Mara, who unfortunately cannot be here tonight, so he is acting as my companion." Jocasta said nodding to him. She frowned slightly a moment--was that another glass of champagne he had? And in fact she noticed Dr. Ahek approaching him and whispering to him. "He was just talking with me about how balls are more traditional in our countries. I was thinking that this is a really big event, and I'm not used to big balls or really a lot of balls as you mention. But I suppose I could get used to big balls."

As Dr. Aphek was whispering, "Might I suggest Your Majesty eat something and slow the drinking? Remember whose companion you are tonight...remember your promise to the Dowager, sir, and control yourself." He said this firmly but kindly; he liked Michael but felt he needed a bit of an uncle in his life perhaps.

Meanwhile, Jocasta continued, "La, this is all quite overwhelming is it not?" as she spoke to Bekka. ""Perhaps not to you, you seem to have a reputation for being a bit of world traveler, but until a few months ago I was very sheltered, raised by tutors and at the Whitehaven Academy for Young Ladies, but I have been rather well educated and since my sister's indisposition have been governing the country while very ably assisted and advised. But it must be easy for you you're the girl genius are you not?" she said this with a sweet and friendly smile.

[Ghant]

Thankfully, Jocasta introduced him to Bekkah. "Well, this is my brother in law, Michael of Dakmoor, the King-Consort, married to my sister, Queen Mara, who unfortunately cannot be here tonight, so he is acting as my companion." Jocasta said nodding to him before continuing. "He was just talking with me about how balls are more traditional in our countries. I was thinking that this is a really big event, and I'm not used to big balls or really a lot of balls as you mention. But I suppose I could get used to big balls."

Michael sniggered a bit under his breath, one that was heavily suppressed. I think you could get used to big balls too, he thought to himself. "A pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty. You look well this evening."

Dr. Aphek approached Michael and began to whisper to him. "Might I suggest Your Majesty eat something and slow the drinking? Remember whose companion you are tonight...remember your promise to the Dowager, sir, and control yourself."

The doctor was right, after all. Michael shouldn't be so careless and let the alcohol run through him like it was water. That wouldn't do anyone any good, and Michael really didn't want to give off a negative impression. I really need to learn to lay off of it. It had become such an ingrained habit over the past several months...the first few months after his honeymoon were the hardest. The misery was only smothered by the heaviness of drink...it numbed the pain, and Michael, for a time at least, came to covet the comfort that it brought him.

The King Consort nodded as he finished that glass. "Good point, doctor. Thank you...I think I am done drinking for awhile. I am going to take you up on that...I could use a bite to eat, after all," he said with a smile as he went over to where the food was and began to help himself.

[Glamour]

OOC: Post below collaborated between Ghant and New Edom; please feel free to interact with characters separately if you'd like to.
IC:
The Royal Party from New Edom had elected to stay at the Hive, which Colonel Josephus privately told Dr.Aphek, “Is like staying on the set of a science fiction movie. What a vulgar ghastly place to take our darling Princess too.”

“Less of your spleen, Colonel,” Dr. Aphek had reproved him with a smile. “Both the Dowager and the Regent believe it very important that she learn the ways of the world, and they are right. Your protectiveness does you credit of course.”

The city’s architecture and stunning landscapes both dazzled and overwhelmed the Edomites, even by the standards of the richest Cornellian cities the sheer consistency of the creative of the cityscapes was shocking to them. Only Callaban City (to which none of them had ever been) even approached it.

Jocasta was bathed, oiled, massaged, had her hair done, toes and fingernails, and had then relaxed listening to briefings about the situation back home while the final stages of dressing were done. Dr. Aphek’s rather rich tones kept her interested while he read from reports to her as her naked gold dusted maids scurred around her like she really was a Queen Bee appropriate to her suite. The election troubles, voters being prevented from registering to vote by hostile militias, negotiations and points of order about the peace talks, frantic worries about the strikes and demonstrations in the industrial heart of New Edom.

Countess Jabbok, in a dark green gown with a woven sea-blue underskirt and bared plump but attractive arms, her dark hair in a sensuous coil and emerald hairpins, came to oversee the final dressing stages; Jocasta grunted and gasped as her corset was put on. “A note to my beloved cousin--I will not tolerate further outrages against loyal citizens by fanatical rebels...Bara Province is the Royal...oof!...Province, not the private preserve of Governor Tannach! He was placed there, he can be replaced...ah...enough, enough!” she said, slapping her maids’ hands away. “The chemise and then the dress! I can’t believe Queen Adah used to dress this way all the time...you know what I don’t want to be that authentic, I changed my mind, loosen it! Oh my gosh, I can barely breathe!”

Over this went the delicate embroidered chemise, that fell to just below her shapely hips, and then the taffeta and silk scarlet gown, the corset helping to thrust up her already full bosom to magnificent prominence, the green feathers in her dark hair piled into a crown, a little blue-silver eyeshadow, blushing emphasis on her full mouth. Her new necklace and the new crown, dark and ivory together, a stark contrast. “In a strange place of unbelievers and hedonists...but I am ready. I am ready for anything, to be courteous to anyone, to demonstrate that I can serve my country well…” she mused, turning this way and that. She smiled at Countess Jabbok and Delphinia.

Later, listening to the speech with King Consort Michael and her courtiers nearby, dressed in their formal court uniforms with appropriate decorations or dressed, aides hovering but not getting in the way of socializing, she murmured to King Michael, “She has a beautiful speaking voice, but it’s a lot of hippy drivel. Only people who live in such a rich country could think so...and yet I hear they have a formidable military force and strong finances. So…” she smiled at him, “It’s a lot of poppycock then. It’s a glitzy version of Novitera or Callaban, this. Still, one has one’s guest duties, nay?” However the music that began shortly after enchanted her.

The King Consort was dressed in a finely tailored suit that was more than adequate for the occasion at hand. His black hair was cut short, his face clean shaven, and his thoughtful deep blue eyes took in what there was to see. “I wonder how anyone ever gets anything done around here with the sheer extravagance and gaudiness. It’s almost if they are trying to impress the world with it, wouldn’t you say?” Michael asked with a grin. “Oh, and you should know that you look absolutely radiant. I would be hard pressed to find any portrait of any great lady that could even match a mere fraction of your beauty.”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things,” Jocasta said. “Prettier than the Diva or the Queen Empress, hmm?”

“Yes. Even prettier than Princess Delilah of Dakmoor, the Princess that was so beautiful, a war was fought for her hand.” Michael assured her with a beaming smile.

“Well…” Jocasta examined the nearest champagne pyramid and took a glass, and raised it. She forced herself to avoid the chocolate fountain, just a soupcon perhaps later on maybe... “Well, we’ve done well to make it so far. Here’s to a better year!”

Michael nodded and did the same, grabbing a nearby glass from the same pyramid. He raised his glass and said, “to a better year!”

Producers from Transcendence Studios in Rockquetette have delayed the broadcast of the arrival of the Edomites from the Hive in Stiletto, showing them not live, but in an edited segment with recorded voiceover from Simone Smithers, given that the strategy of how to present such grace on television is convoluted. The segment begins with a short introduction of the party's background:

"The Allied States of New Edom, a territory occupied by the New Edomites in the western lands of Damoclea, is represented on the red carpet by the Ghantish King Consort of New Edom, Prince Michael of Dakmoor, husband of Queen Mara, whose sister, Princess Jocasta Obed, is also in attendance and currently holds the role of heir. She will take over the position as monarch from Prince Elijah Shalmaneser in three years upon the arrival of her 21st birthday. Queen Mara herself has not been seen in public for some time, with unconfirmed rumours surrounding her that she is prone to episodes of psychosis. But that is no wonder given the New Edomites' tumultuous history. Princess Jocasta, being currently a teenager, must feel as though she is a while away from having the considerable weight of the sovereignty of The Allied States on her shoulders, especially considering that there are territorial disputes from all around with what was historically known as The Cornellian Empire, and which has historically been ravaged by some of the world's greatest wars, including the famous atempted invasion in 1999 by Vici Minerva under the rule of the late King Mark Obed, which analysts have said may have catalysed the 3rd Elwe Uprising, an unfortunate circumstance that it appears Jocasta may inherit once her heirship is fulfilled. As recently as last year, Magna Lacuna, a lake in Damoclea whose ownership and borders have been disputed between Deadora and the New Edomites since at least the turn of the 20th century, involving many socio-cultural and religio-historical claims and tensions, has once again been the site of bloody clashes instigated by Deadoran intervention in the murderous reign of the Dengalian warlord Ajam, with the Edomite-Deadoran border on the lake being arbitrated by the diplomatically flaky Shrailleeni government, causing hopes of peace to be as far from sight and intangible as the murky waters deep within the basin of the great lake on the borders itself. Good gosh, it really is times like these we are glad to be booby-trapped against invasion, with a naturally occurring indigenous guerilla army around the borders, an A.I. missile defense system, a huge reserve army who wish to forfeit their automatic conscientious objector status, and an unshakeable policy to militarily remain firmly within our own largely, historically unchanging borders, guarded by the Most Indomitable Germanderie of Peace itself, eh? Not to mention the Xerox special intelligence forces, but you know, we are not to mention those who are they.

But enough of that! Let's just behold the sight of Princess Jocasta here, who looks surprisingly well-rested when all things are considered, and with an ingenue-like air emanating from the aura of what is undoubtedly - at the core - a young girl being trained extensively and mercilessly in the machinations of the role of a great and necessarily strategic stateswoman and ruler. Escorted by an entourage including the previously mentioned King Consort, Prince Michael; the beautiful Countess Emilia Jabbok, who is Jocasta's personal lady-in-waiting, and whose real age (which shall remain unmentioned) is betrayed by her fine and exuberant youthfulness, much like our own Diva; Minister of Foreign Affairs, personal friend and tutor of the Royals and esteemed international academic in the fields of sociology, history and economics and alumni of Fineberg University, Dr. Paul Aphek; Colonel Marcus Josephus, a formidable military commander and Master of Offices for Princess Jocasta - clearly a demanding job, but for a man who is more than capable of handling such a role, having been trained extensively since only 17 and having learned and instructed under the 3rd Shock Cavalry, the Royal Cavalry Guards, the National War College, and the Guards Division under General Zadok Hesperinus. Each and every one sport a natural New Edomite healthy olive glow, with both men and women alike appearing in garments which are, quite frankly, a matter of timeless elegance and grace which transcend style and fashion. Jocasta herself, the clear focus of the entourage's attention, appears absolutely divine and in fit health - something undoubtedly necessary for her coming role as Queen."

The segment is interspersed by rapidly changing, head-to-toe camera angles of each of the attendees as they are discussed in turn, and Simone's voice is overlaid with modern electronica background music as is customary on the Daily Illumination, but which is nonetheless jarring in contrast to the classic appearance of those with whom the segment is concerned.

Simone adds, "And incoming rumour is that Empress Queen Rebekkahlynn of Loveland has changed her outfit - we can't get camera access to the venue - we will have updates for you as they come in - is the second dress as beautiful as the first, I wonder?!" Her tone is unnecessarily urgent, as usual.

[Glamour]

The early evening falls victim to the predatory darkness of the dusk, and the sun above Glamour, which had previously been momentarily eclipsed, is conquered in its own death by the night as blackness envelopes the vacuous space left behind by the sun's setting. There is hushed activity at the back door of the Saffronian Theatre of Botanical and Natural Art.

A hooded figure, surrounded by private security contractors and military mercenaries which are among the most efficient and discrete that money can buy, is rapidly ushered out of a Dartz Prombron Nagel armoured sports car. Although the mysterious individual, their group of followers and the guards escorting them are not Glamazonian, the presence of the car indicates Glamour's complicity in the secret arrival. Away from the distraction and bustle of the red carpet, neither camera nor eye, neither man nor beast, witnesses the cloaked sillhouette as it is quickly taken down a dark hallway and received by state representatives in a highly secure section of the building.

The individual is perhaps the most highly trained individual alive in the world regarding the nature of their assignment. The night is young, but the figure is not, and has been hardened by many decades of experience and many hours of training in preparation for what is to come. The Dartz Prombron Nagel speeds off into the night, and within minutes, it is as though the only goings-on at the back entrance are the presence of one highly stressed chef, smoking a cigar.

A shock like no other is about to arrive at the First Global Ball.

[Glamour]

Now that the venue's glass dome ceiling is surrounded by darkness, all of the lights are abruptly shut off completely, interrupting every conversation, and the Glamorous Philharmonic Orchestra segue into a B flat hum at the end of their piece, as a voice begins to be issued over the venue's speakers.

It is the voice of Madonna, the highest selling female artist of all time, who introduces herself with a monologue written by the Cultural Liaisons Association of Glamour and running along the Diva's speech's themes as she struts confidently along the catwalk and onto the stairs of the circular stage where Bjork had previously performed at the event's opening. Tragically, and although the stairs are not particularly treacherous, Madonna - the secret hooded figure who was ushered into the venue for a surprise performance at the Global Ball's apex - is strangled, and launched backwards to the ground, in front of the entire crowd, and the eyes of every international viewer by her own exceedingly long Armani cape, designed especially for the occasion.

The performance continues regardless until its end.

[Glamour]

Madonna flees the Saffronian Theatre of Botanial and Natural Art almost instantaneously, and the proceedings continue, desperately attempting to avoid the awkwardness of the atmosphere following the incident, which is now trending on Twitter and other social media worldwide.

The Glamorous Philharmonic Orchestra once again commence playing, and the lights are reinstated, although dimmed slightly, with the music designed to encourage relaxation and love between guests. It is a cover of Nina Simone's Do I Move You, performed flawlessly by indigenous Untul'e'le' celebrity singer of the Orchestra, Al'a-lina Te-tu'hai-wei, and her jazz and blues band. Faces are shocked throughout the crowd, including that of the Diva's, regarding the horrific incident. It is speculated that Madonna may drop dead at any minute backstage. It is announced over the venue's speakers that the band are open to requests, including live karaoke.

[Andisance]

At the beverage tables, a figure sneaked quietly to champagne section, you have to give credit to Marie-Joséphine, she is master in this kind of things, her long thin arm stretched out for a glass of champagne, only to be hit by other figure.

"Ah uh," said Marie-Marguerite, shaking her index finger. "No alcoholic drink for you tonight."

"Pourquoi?" protested the young girl. "Papa lets me…"

"And we are home?" said Marie-Marguerite, raising her eyebrow. It was common for Sançaise parents to let their kids having a small glass of wine during dinner. However, that wasn't a case everywhere in the world. "You know full well you're not supposed to or else you wouldn't be sneaky."

"Bite me then," shrugged Marie-Joséphine and she walk away.

On the other side of banquet area Marie-Thérèse, with a fork in her hand, dipped a piece of banana in chocolate fountain.

"We should have this at home," Came a voice, startled her, it was Marie-Joséphine who dipped a piece of strawberry in chocolate and had a mouthful. "It would be so much fun, don't you think, T?"

"Oui," she nodded. "Maman will not allow it though. She will be like 'You girls are spoiled rotten to request such a thing."

They both sighed.

Not far from them, Marie-Florence was enjoying the music and show. This is very well organized and grand event, she thought. As an heir to the throne she had never been lacked of men asking her for a dance, guess Andisance isn't well known to the world after all.

[New Edom]

Jocasta was not a huge fan of pop really, but she was very impressed by the Madonna performance, the words were thrilling if very sentimental and the dance performance was most impressive. In a way it was almost symbolic of Glamour itself--somehow both garish and elegant at once, somehow vulgar and thrilling at once. It was really hard for her to put a finger on how she felt about this place, and that was part of what intrigued her.

Then a bunch of blues-jazz. Moody. Glum. She couldn’t help it, she had to have a bit of fruit in chocolate, and she sent the first request of the night, a classical waltz that she quite liked. Simple, elegant, sweet and charming, and she looked at Michael with a smile. Countess Jabbok caught her breath and nudged Colonel Josephus, who looked on wistfully.

“What did you think of the performance?” Michael asked her. He has seen some like it before...some less risque, some more. He did wonder what Jocasta thought about it…I wonder what she thinks about everything.

“It’s...well it’s interesting. It’s sort of vulgar and brassy, but also beautiful and amazingly talented...like everything here it seems like, or at least what we have been shown,” Jocasta said thoughtfully. “How about you?”

“I thought it was refreshing and entertaining,” Michael commented with a smile. He was done drinking, and had been availing himself of the finger foods available. “There are shows like that in Ghant...sort of reminded me of home...a bit. It was different in other ways too. How do you feel about vulgarity and brassiness, anyway?”

“It reminds me of the worst of my sister,” she said frankly. “A lot of sentimentality without...real direction. I think that while I do love my sister I hate her chaos. I hate how it encourages people around her to be stupid.” Jocasta took a deep breath. “I like order and sensibility.” she smiled at him. “Wow, a bit of a speech there, but that’s how I feel.”

“That’s how I feel too sometimes,” Michael nodded. “She is very guarded...she knows what she likes and she likes what she knows. She acts like she isn’t sentimental...but she is, in her own way. She reminds me of my sister’s cat...her name was fluffles,” Michael laughed. “You though...your sense of order and duty is most refreshing...it is a very attractive quality.”

“Aw, thank you, you’re so sweet sometimes Michael. A pity my sister does not appreciate you as I do,” she added, and then smiled at the music and hummed along with it.

Dr. Aphek couldn’t take any more, and stepped up and whispered to Michael again. “Excuse me Highness,” he said to Jocasta, “Affairs of state peculiar to the King-Consort…” as she nodded he guided the young man slightly away and said to him with a faint smile to soften his words, “Ask her to dance, you damned young fool.”

“Would you care to dance, Jocasta?” Michael asked her then.

Jocasta looked at him as though surprised but delighted. “Oh, certainly,” she said, extending her hand gracefully to him.

Michael took her hand and stroked it gently with his own as he led her out to the floor. “Have you ever danced to this sort of music before?”

“Of course,” said Jocasta, sweeping out onto the floor, her dress moving like a flame around her, and said, “At Whitehaven all young ladies are taught several forms of dance--waltzes, jazz dance, the fox trot...a whole lot of them. Not everyone is as good at it as others are, Camilla is a bit of an indifferent dancer though Olympia, oh my gosh, you should have seen that girl cut the rug, she’s like an angel.”

“What all did you learn at Whitehaven? There are finishing schools in Ghant too, but I never went to one…” Michael chuckled as he unleashed his dancing abilities...gently at first.

“Arithmetic, geography, some sciences, athletics, literature, drama, music, history,” recited Jocasta. “School stuff, you know? Things like that. A lot of things about posture and decorating and conversation too...how about you?”

“When I was in school...well I was tutored like my brother in sister. We learned all the same stuff too...although my sister learned how to be a proper lady, and my brother and I learned how to be proper gentlemen,” Michael explained as he danced with her...closely. “What were your favorite subjects?”

“I liked history and music both--in fact I liked history of music a lot,” Jocasta answered. “Well you are a proper gentleman, but sometimes you’re a trifle coarse about things, Michael, and I think you lack a bit of a guiding hand.” she dimpled a smile. “No offense.”

“None taken, Jocasta. We all have our vices. Although I am curious...is there anything specifically you could tell me about your opinion?” Michael wondered aloud, one hand in hers and another on her lower back.

Jocasta looked up at him. “You drink too much and you are a bad character with women,” she said earnestly. “Which distresses me as while I understand that men have urges they can barely contain at times, I wish you’d be more discreet about it. And I have to say...I perfectly understand and do not blame you. You sowed your wild oats as a younger man, and men need to do that, I get it. And you are neglected by my poor mad sister, I get that too. Which is a shame. A loving wife would not leave your bed cold of course.”

Michael sighed. “You are right, of course...about those things. Mind if I tell you a story? It isn’t one that I tell people that don’t already know about it.”

“I love stories,” said Jocasta as they danced across the floor together.

“I wasn’t always like that...at one time, I was a shy, sheltered young man completely and utterly devoted to one woman. Princess Rosa of Garza...we were very close from a young age. We looked out for each other, played together, shared our secrets, dreams and aspirations with each other. She was my best friend, and I was hers. In time, we would hold hands, and we even shared our first kisses with each other. I was in love with her, and she with me,” Michael told her as his eyes seemed thoughtful, yet sad. “Then Rojo Martes happened, and her family came to Ghish to stay at court. We were both seventeen then...I wanted to be with her...I wanted to love her and marry her. There was a time that she did too, but after Rojo Martes, she lost that feeling. Not only did she reject me totally, she did it in a way that broke my heart. I was shattered...I became depressed, lonely...I didn’t know what to do with my life. So I just travelled for a while, restlessly. I was with different women after that for many years, because I was lonely, sad and confused...I thought that I could achieve some comfort with them...but it was fleeting. Then when I met Mara...I wanted to love her, and yes, I wanted her to love me too. But she didn’t. And that, Jocasta, is my curse...and the way it haunts me, makes me turn to drinking, to help make it feel better. I just want to know what love is...and the fact that I don’t, that makes me depressed sometimes. The alcohol helps me cope with that.” Michael bit his bottom lip. “And now you know my dirty secret. I hope it doesn’t make you think any less of me.”

Jocasta’s eyes widened as he spoke, then softened, her mouth drooping sadly, and she whispered, “Oh Michael….what a sad sad story. I’m so sorry to hear this, what a sad thing to have happen. But Michael, the drink won’t help you...you need to be cared for, loved and treasured for who you really are. I cannot stand that you feel so badly, you have been a godsend to me, my very rock on which I rest.”

“And I must confess, Jocasta, that I feel the same way about you. You inspire me...you make me want to become better. To set aside the drink and be the man I ought to be.” Michael told her. “You are my treasure.”

“How sweet…” Jocasta said warmly. “You are so kind to me, Michael, and I feel as though this is a...well…” she couldn’t think of a metaphor or anything and shrugged. “Something really great! Oh it’s ended…” she clapped as the waltz ended, breaking away but standing near him all the same.

“Michael took a step back and smiled. Could it be love?

[Looking for Love]

Loveland and Ghant

"Well, this is my brother in law, Michael of Dakmoor, the King-Consort, married to my sister, Queen Mara, who unfortunately cannot be here tonight, so he is acting as my companion." Jocasta said nodding to him.
Meanwhile, Jocasta continued, "La, this is all quite overwhelming is it not?" as she spoke to Bekka. ""Perhaps not to you, you seem to have a reputation for being a bit of world traveler, but until a few months ago I was very sheltered, raised by tutors and at the Whitehaven Academy for Young Ladies, but I have been rather well educated and since my sister's indisposition have been governing the country while very ably assisted and advised. But it must be easy for you you're the girl genius are you not?" she said this with a sweet and friendly smile.

Bekkah gave a nice hello to Michael, and followed with a bow.
"Oh yes," Bekkah said, nodding, "it's definitely very overwhelming, and I really am a world traveler! I attend every ball, party, debate, etc. that I can, but this one tops them all! According to my transcripts for school, my report cards, my deceased parents, my family, and my people, yes, I am a girl genius! But so are my sisters and my brother! I have 2 sisters, Crystalynna and Brenalynn, and I also have 1 brother, Alexzander! What family do you have, besides you sister?"

[New Edom]

When the dance was done, Jocasta had rejoined the conversation with Bekkah, who talked about what a genius she was and named off her family. "That's very interesting," said Jocasta. "Well, I have my mother, the Queen Dowager Rebecca, who could not be here tonight, and I have my cousins: Thomas, Olivia, Elijah, Saxon, Ava are the closest ones. Thomas is financially very brilliant but an awful bully," You're just his type that he likes to leave crying and confused, "Olivia is very clever and is a good writer, and is married ot the King of New Hydrenia while Saxon is married to the King of Pravengria. Elijah is my older cousin and is my regent until I turn 21. He is very gloomy and very pedantic sometimes, and is interested in farming capybaras and is a good naval commander, one of our great naval heroes though he's so glum you'd never think so. And Ava is the sweetest person ever, she just likes gardening, reading and music. Alas, she's a bit unlucky in marriage, had two engagements broken off already poor girl."

Jocasta looked at the splendid decor, listening to the music and watching the fantastically dressed people around them. "As for me, I'm glad to be here taking a break. Our country is in the middle of another civil war, thanks to the religious fanatics and traitors of the Free Congress and Feminist Collective Party, but I'm trusting cousin Elijah to handle it. We have mediation from the Cornellian Peacekeeping Organization anyway, but if they won't make peace why then..." she shrugged and smiled sweetly, "They'll just have to be crushed like bugs!" Chocolate, chocolate, she wanted to just lie under that chocolate fountain...imagine that...maybe she could get her maid Delphinia to do it and tell her what it was like?

[Looking for Love]

When the dance was done, Jocasta had rejoined the conversation with Bekkah, who talked about what a genius she was and named off her family. "That's very interesting," said Jocasta. "Well, I have my mother, the Queen Dowager Rebecca, who could not be here tonight, and I have my cousins: Thomas, Olivia, Elijah, Saxon, Ava are the closest ones. Thomas is financially very brilliant but an awful bully," You're just his type that he likes to leave crying and confused, "Olivia is very clever and is a good writer, and is married ot the King of New Hydrenia while Saxon is married to the King of Pravengria. Elijah is my older cousin and is my regent until I turn 21. He is very gloomy and very pedantic sometimes, and is interested in farming capybaras and is a good naval commander, one of our great naval heroes though he's so glum you'd never think so. And Ava is the sweetest person ever, she just likes gardening, reading and music. Alas, she's a bit unlucky in marriage, had two engagements broken off already poor girl."

Wow Bekkah thought to herself, She's much younger than I thought. This girl's going to be a great ruler!
"You are so lucky Jocasta!" Bekkah said when she finished, "The only family I have is what I named, other than my fiancee, Anyon! How old are you Jocasta? If you've said, I've forgotten, so I apologize if you have! My condolences to you cousin Ava! Would you like to discuss a possible alliance between New Edom and Looking for Love (AKA Loveland)?"

[Looking for Love]

In the dull haze of buzzed eyes, Michael espied what could only have been some great female sovereign approach Jocasta...he recognized her from somewhere...but where? I know who that is...but it escapes me...damnit! In order to remember what it was, he moved a bit closer to where she was, to better hear her speak.

"Hello...I am Empress Queen Rebekkahlynn Rosabell Geneva Loveland, Empress Queen of Loveland! He heard her introduce herself to Jocasta.

Rebekkahlynn of Loveland...that was her name! Michael though as he nodded with champagne in his hand. ...What kind of name is that, anyway? For fucksake. At least she went by Bekkah...that was a little more sensible. It wasn't without a sense of astonishment to see her walk away abruptly, to which Jocasta looked at Michael. He loved it when she looked at him...like the sun upon a flower. it made him smile wide and raise his champagne glass.


Then Bekka returned, and spoke to Jocasta once more. "I'm sorry...since I'm very new to all these balls, I have a habit of asking questions, and then walking away without an answer! I apologize! Now where were we, Princess Jocasta, heir to the throne of the Allied States of New Edom?"

Michael had to refrain from laughing at how awkward that sounded. New to all these balls, eh? he thought...he dared not say anything about that aloud, if only to keep respect the integrity of his beloved Jocasta.[/align][/blocktext]

Seeing that Jocasta was busy at the moment, and the King Consort was very near-by, Bekkah turned to him.
Bowing, she started a conversation, "Hello, your highness! So, you're the King of Ghant and New Edom? Or how does that work? I see you're enjoying the champagne. Are you used to these balls, or are you in the same boat as me and Jocasta?"

[Ghant]

After Michael and Jocasta had finished dancing and had broken apart, he walked methodically back over to where he was at originally. The King Consort took the time to survey the area, wondering what to do...who to engage, if anyone at all. As fate would have it, the engagement would come to him.

Bekka approached him with a bow, and proceeded to start a conversation. "Hello, your highness! So, you're the King of Ghant and New Edom? Or how does that work? I see you're enjoying the champagne. Are you used to these balls, or are you in the same boat as me and Jocasta?"

Michael listened to the girl talk with a tilted head. I am used to my balls, he thought to himself, humorously. "Hello, your...majesty. Allow me to explain. My brother-in-law Nathan is the Emperor of Ghant, and by extension the King of Ghant as a subsidiary title. He is married to my sister Sophia. Our father is Malibar, King of Dakmoor, which is another subsidiary Kingdom within the Empire of Ghant. I hope that answers your question...I am just a Prince of Dakmoor by birth, and a second son at that." Michael considered her confusion for a moment. I thought she was supposed to be a genius...certainly she could have figured that out if she was, he thought. He remained skeptical of the lofty claim.

In any case, he continued to answer her inquiries. "I was enjoying the champagne, yes...but I think I am done for awhile. And as for these balls, well...I have been to quite a few, both in Ghant and elsewhere. But between you and me, my honest opinion is that Ghantish balls are the best balls." Haha...

[Glamour]

[...]

The Diva witnesses the approaching Selkie delegates from her periphery and her attention is instantly drawn towards them completely, since the E.F.A.G. database highlights the nation as one with much of the same philosophies and approaches as the very one that she herself serves and represents.

"Good evening, Marla; Donald," she says casually, following the traditional Glamazonian etiquette of treating those with whom one is known to be congruent with as friends, whilst treating enemies like simply non-entities, continuing with an outstretched hand and addressing Donald, primarily, "an honour to meet you, kind soul. And I am enchanted by your presence here as well, Marla. I do know that this Ball is perhaps a bit of a shock to the system at times, but we in Glamour see nothing wrong with that, if truth be told. In fact, we revel in such things. Our traditional approach is to consistently strive to revamp tradition. Did you know that in Glamour, a plain tuxedo is considered informal? The laziness of the thought behind it is really our justification for this. To us, everyone showing up in the same outfit, only distinguishable from one another by the arbitrary 'quality' variation of their different suits, as if having a finer one grants automatic formality, status, etiquette and the impression that the occasion is somehow important in the eyes of the wearer because of the fineness of their suit gracing their body during their attendance, is really very disingenuous. We all know that to a man with many fine suits, wearing a fine suit to an occasion means absolutely nothing, and so does not truly honour the occasion. To each their own, of course, but between you guys and myself, I regard fashion as a form of high art. The Mona Lisa is gorgeous, but nobody wants to go to a museum filled with many replicas, or else one would not appreciate the original as much as for its uniqueness in amongst many other unique and beautiful works. And on that note, I really am moved by your clearly very rich and symbolic dress to hear more about its inspiration. Tell me about yourselves! And by yourselves, of course, I mean your nation." She winks, and adds, "You can tell me about yourselves later. Technically I would say we are still bound by the duties of our office. But this is a Ball, after all, and so I would suggest that we will perhaps feel less bound after about... what, five, six whiskies?"

She claps her hands twice in quick succession, looking intently at Críonna and Marla as though emphasising the drama of the gesture, and within what seems like only enough time for them to draw breath in response, the venue staff as directed by the Cultural Liaisons Association of Glamour, who are trained on the Diva's every action and word from behind the scenes, arrive with a tray of a selection of fine international whiskies, a jug of water and a cut amethyst bowl containing ice tetrahedrons. Even, it seems, ice cubes are not conventional in Glamour, but instead carry a fascinating, surrealist pretentiousness.

The older diplomat took the hand in his gloved, bowed down slightly and kissed her hand very gently, a charming smile on his lips, his tone very formal. "Good evening, Diva. Thank you for hosting this event. Seeing everything in motion, even I, a proud Selkie, have to admit, that out bid for hosting would have been without any chance."
The two were slightly thrown off at the Diva already knowing their names, since it was usual for them to first introduce themselves. Marla had a small dagger going through her heart, as the older man admitted the Selkie's inability to host the Global Ball.
Next Year..., she thought, as she went for a more traditional way of greeting their host: With her hand over her heart, slightly buried in the fur of her holder, she lowered her head, a gesture usually resered for a tribal Elder. "Dia duit, Diva.", she greeted the older woman. "In the name of the Selkie, I thank you for your kindness."
As Críonna released her hand, the two of them visibly relaxed.
"Well then.", the older man said and took one of the offered whiskies without one of the beautiful shaped ice cubes, "With that concluded, let's get to the more relaxed part of this evening, don't you agree, Marla?"
The Marcach grinned back, as she took a whisky herself. "Yes, why not?", she asked before turning to the Diva. "You asked about the Free Lands, specifically the Geansai. Well, I have to admit, that I do not know about its inspiration, because it's been along for millenia by now, more or less unchanged over the course of time, but I can tell you aboput its meaning." With a slightly emberrased smile, she cleared her throat. "You see, we Selkie are people devided into fifteen tribes, namely Galway, Sligo, Laois, Louth, Cork, Tipperary, Waterford, Fingal, Antrim, Cavan, Fermanagh, Kildare, Wicklow, Monaghan and Westmeath.
Each of these tribes has its own Elders and Geansai, all in different colours and small differences, at past times a way of saying 'I belong to this tribe.', today more a way of saying, that we are Selkie and that we see ourselves as Selkie without a social rank. That is why for example military decorations are forbidden to be worn with it.
Additionally, some of the cults have Geansais as well. In fact, mine...", she shifted her weight slightly to show the colours of the Geansai a bit more, "...shows, that I am a servant to Carman Fea, the ancient goddess of War and Science, while Mister Críonna's...", the older man bowed his head, "...says, that he is of the Tribe of Louth."
That was the point, where the older man took over to let his companion have a sip of her drink. "But not all Louths were the same Geansai. You see, I was born in Palmwood, down in Cornwall - warm and lovely down there, but not where we normally come from. That would be the Stithians, in the Northern Coastlands, between the Sharp Creek and the Mhuir Mountains. My parents were from the Creek, from a place close to lovely Inis, and so I wear my Geansai's folds...", he pointed to the kind-of flaps on his chest, which had a white line running along them, "...in a lighter shade of blue then someone from for example Greystoke. My mother used to wear her skirt straight, while my aunt had hers in pleats, for she was of a clan and line, but from the same tribe.
The fur usually is real fur, mostly hunted down with bow and arrow in the fields and plains and woods of our home. We hunt animals with greatest for them and the woods, only as much as we need and not more - no one will bother you, though, when you wear artificial fur, though."
"We love to do things the old fashioned way, but do not have anything against modern technology as well.", Marla explained with a smile. "You will see many of us have a cell phone and in the Free Lands, there is hardly any spot with bad reception, but if you want to travel longer distances, you usually do not take a car, but a horse, a cart or, if you need to go long distances faster, a train with a steam engine.
And although the farms especially might look to you, like they haven't changed since the Dark Ages, I can guarantee you, that they are warm and cozy during winter. Speaking of farms and winter, what do the Glamorians eat?", she asked in a curious tone, before explaining with slight embarrasment: "You see, we like to think, that one can truly measure other people by what they eat, so for a Selkie cuisine is an integral part to culture."
"Be happy, that Leonard isn't here.", Críonna threw in with a mischievous smile, "He would have eaten himself through every piece of cheese available by now!"

The Diva lets out a subtle gushing sound of appreciation, and her miraculously shapely eyebrows are arranged into an upward arch of genuine humility, as Críonna kisses her hand. This had not been her intention in outstretching it, but she is touched by the gesture, and more than comfortable, being a famously tactile individual and having been on the receiving end of the action many times. Subsequently, she is charmed to no end by Marla's tribal elder greeting, and bows her head in customary return, having been notified of the saying's gravity through her earpiece. She says, after having considered the compliments with internal reverence, "Thank you for attending, and for your warm greetings. It is great to be able to meet face to face, finally. My cultural advisors have spoken only great things about your fine lands. I do also believe that our paths were almost crossed at another ball - held in Genoa - but unfortunately I had to... leave... rather early on account of a disaster involving my favourite concubine being struck on the crown of the head by a falling champagne bottle." She glances nervously towards the many towers in the room, and is glad to have been reassured that since the incident, strong magnets have been placed in the bases and lids of all officially utilised Glamazonian champagne bottles, and are deactivated by the heat sensation of touch only, so as to ensure the safety of the towers. The suggestion to do away with them altogether had enraged the Diva during a recent meeting with the Cultural Liaisons Association of Glamour, to the regrettable point that she had been required to be physically restrained and sedated by the use of a cannabis joint. She continues, "She - Honey - actually died for three minutes, in the middle of the ballroom, but thankfully, her lifeless corpse - beautiful though it was - was whisked away by the Prince of North Timeria, who had taken quite a fancy to her, and as a concession I allowed her to stay with him once she was resuscitated. I love each of my concubines to the point of letting them go should it be their wish."

In terrible synchronicity, at that exact point, Madonna begins to perform and is dragged violently from the stage. The Diva looks on with a momentary expression of abject horror, before quickly steadying her expression after having been informed that most attendees were unsure as to whether it was an accident or a deliberate publicity stunt, or that they did not particularly care either way for either the performance, or the health of the near-pensioner. She continues to speak, saying, "Carman Fea, eh?" with a smile, before continuing, "I am aware that you are an incredibly pacifist nation, much like our own, but I do hope that, much like our own, you are able to defend yourselves adequately against invasion - it would certainly seem so. I have just received notification that Glamour has been accepted into the International Freedom Coalition, which is great, since we are defensively booby-trapped and have an intelligent missile defense system called the Bell Jar as it is, as well as almost universal thermonuclear bunkers, including underneath this very building. But it is a confirmation of our safety to have some of the world's greatest military powers, who also nevertheless value peace, on our side. On the topic of war and peace, I believe that one can never compromise human rights and idealistic philosophies simply because of the distress of nations, but measures of some kind must be taken during these testing times. On the lighter topic of cuisine - we have our own Glamazonian chambord and chocolate, both of which originate from the indigenous people and their ancient methods of sugar fermentation and harvest, and Glamazonian champagne, which is an adaptation of the wine the Untul'e'le' have brewed since the 3rd century B.C.E. Our tribal history is also very important to us, as I can tell yours is, and we celebrate the Day of the Comers - first contact - each year at Glamourmas festivities, which is a date based on the lunar calendar system of the tribespeople. They actually measure the date by the position of Minerva's Diamond, a star which projects onto the ground around Heartburn Volcano in Fractatcra a circular ring that delineates their sacred territories. Our state was established in the middle of this circular territory, since the Untul'e'le' did not wish to approach too near to the volcano, having witnessed its eruption in the 3rd century B.C.E. with a fearful approbation. There has been a poem published by them regarding the Day of the Comers. However, until this very day, their legends are largely unspeakable to the uninitiated under fear of untold cosmic retribution upon the heads of all concerned. "

The Diva speaks her last statement with a shivering caution, and continues to hold this tone as she addresses the issue of cuisine, saying, "Well, we have a cuisine district here in Saffronia which is highly inclusive of all world cultures. In this district fast food chains are not allowed, but generally the populace of Glamour does not enjoy such establishments anywhere. As well as traditional cuisine, we have been influenced by the divergent makeup of the settlers, who were variously European, Asian, Middle Eastern and African, and were sent here to colonise the presumed uninhabited island by Empress Wu from China during her reign of murderousness. Upon the settlers' arrival, though, after a brief misunderstanding, they were welcomed with open arms and found it in their hearts to let Wu assume that they were dead and to build their own settlement. The first was in this very city, and in harmony with the indigenous, who built the Versace palace here, back when they had a Queen. The inheritor of that lineage currently serves as Speaker of the House alongside me as voice of the people, since the entire citizenry are considered the head of state now. I could go on about our fabulous fresh salmon, octopus, and adaptations of paella, curry and other dishes, but you may in fact taste them for yourself, as well as introducing me to some of your national dishes, since they are all around the room. But, one thing I should perhaps notify you of that is not common knowledge, is that in Glamour, citizens have the freedom to donate their bodies to culinary arts and gastronomy, so that cannibalism is legal here. To most, though, including myself, it is in bad taste, quite literally. However, as with most things here, it is your decision, should you wish to see the a la carte menu. I would much rather try your foods - tell me about them!"

The Diva attempts to erect a smiling facade over her intense desire to lick her lips, as she looks upon Marla, considering the succulence that the meat from the bones of an internationally successful sportswoman would entail.