Summit of Leaders in Kirislavia (MT/Invite Only)

[Kirislavia]

---

Beloransk, Kirislavia
Центр Республики (Centre of the Republic) - Conference Room #2
17:00, 22 June 2017

---

Nadezhda Pasichnyk struggled to balance two trays of piping hot homemade cookies in one hand as she used the other to open the door to the conference room, where the summit was soon to be held.

"Am I ever glad you insisted on having an oven put in the lounge," joked Arkady Gribov, Vice Chairman of Kirislavia's Communist Party, as he set down his notes and got up to help the Premier carry the food. "I think I'd better taste-test one, just to be sure. I mean, you're serving these to world leaders, eh? It'd be a shame if they were bad--" he paused as he stuffed two chocolate chip cookies in his mouth at once. "Oh, they're not bad at all. Delicious, even," he said with his mouth full.

"Now, don't go overboard," Premier Pasichnyk scolded half-jokingly, snatching the tray back from Gribov and setting it at the centre of the conference room table. "I would hate for our foreign comrades and friends to go without because you simply couldn't help yourself," she said. Gribov faked a pout, before using the sleeve of his ill-fitting suit to wipe a stray bit of chocolate from his face.

The Premier flicked the light switch, setting alight the many round bulbs hanging from the ceiling, and then went to check herself in the mirror. She was wearing her favourite red skirt suit, along with a black pussybow blouse. Looking at her reflection, she made sure her Communist Party lapel pin was on straight. "Oh, Comrade Gribov, I started a pot of coffee over in the lounge area. Would you get that for me, please? I'm going to stay in here, in case any of our guests arrive."

"Oh no... what were you thinking?" Gribov exclaimed, furiously shaking his head. "You can't give our guests coffee. They'll leave and never come back!"

Pasichnyk stifled a slight laugh. "Relax. It's not Kirislavian coffee. It's imported," she responded, still in front of the mirror, tidying her hair.

"Ah, you thought ahead, then. Thank goodness," he said, heading off to retrieve it.

Meanwhile, Pasichnyk turned her attention away from the mirror and waited by the table for her fellow leaders to arrive. It was at this point she wondered if perhaps the decor of the conference room was a bit too much--though the dark wood-panelled room was usually rather uninspiring, today they'd brought in some red flags and banners, socialist artwork for the walls, and a few giant vases of red chrysanthemums for the occasion. I suppose it does brighten up this drab room a little bit... she thought, leaning up against the table and listening to the gentle patter of the rain against the window. At least it wasn't snowing today; still, some of the guests might find it rather cold for the middle of June.

---

Arctica-Aleutia
Nanakai
Arendelle und Wesselton und Sud-Inseln
Gaozu
Willania Imperium

[Arendelle und Wesselton und Sud-Inseln]

From the window of her airship, Helga could see Beloransk come into view. There was a very modern and industrialist feel to it, with all the rectangular buildings made of concrete and glass. The Phoenix Empress of Arendelle had been invited to the Kirislavian capital by their Premier. Had this been a few years ago, Helga would've certainly refused. However, now she could feel that Premier Nadezhda Pasichnyk was expressing a genuine interest in becoming friends, so Helga agreed to visit her.

On the ground, a whirring noise from propeller blades could be heard and a slight vibration felt, as Phoenix Empress Helga's airship approached for a landing. As the craft neared, the Arendellean imperial coat of arms could be clearly seen on its side. The engines sputtered to a halt as the pilot brought the massive contraption to rest 1 metre above the ground. A door swung open and a mechanical ramp was lowered.

The Phoenix Empress was the first to get off the airship, followed by her Russian interpreter and 2 guards. Helga was wearing her favourite outfit: a dark blue hooded jacket with her personal coat of arms sewn onto the front. She paused slightly to look around, taking in her new surroundings. Since it was raining, Helga reached into her bag and pulled out an umbrella, then opened it. "That's better," she smiled.

"Ah, that's the one!" she exclaimed, pointing to the building that was the Tsentr Respubliki -- "Centre of the Republic". Helga's invitation included a picture of the building and the location of the event: Conference Room 2. Accompanied by her interpreter and bodyguards, the Phoenix Empress made her way in.

[Arendelle und Wesselton und Sud-Inseln]

OOC:
Do Kirislavians speak German? If not, Helga will need to speak through her interpreter because she does not understand Russian or English.

[Kirislavia]

Pasichnyk perked up upon seeing Helga enter the room. With a slight smile on her face, she went over to greet her, speaking enthusiastically in Russian: "Why hello, dear Empress. I'm so pleased that you could make it!" She offered her pale, skinny little hand for Helga to shake. "Come to think of it, handshakes probably aren't your 'thing', are they? Would you rather a... a hug, or something like that?" She shrugged; even after all these years at the job, she still didn't quite know how to handle foreign leaders who were less-than-formal.

Returning to the room with the steamy hot coffee pot, Gribov gave the Phoenix Empress a friendly wave and said, "Hey, Helga. Glad to see you got here in one piece." He set the coffee on the conference table, and then snuck another chocolate chip cookie when the Premier wasn't looking.

OOC:
Do Kirislavians speak German? If not, Helga will need to speak through her interpreter because she does not understand Russian or English.

OOC: About half of all Kirislavians do, more or less. Gribov knows German, but the Premier only speaks Russian, English, and Spanish.

[Arendelle und Wesselton und Sud-Inseln]

Although the Phoenix Empress had not a clue what Pasichnyk was saying, she opened her arms and went in for a hug; that was Helga's way of greeting everyone.

Helga's interpreter translated the Premier's words into German for her to understand. She responded by saying, "So far I'm liking this place," and the interpreter echoed her in Russian.

She then walked over to Gribov and hugged him. "Hallo! Sprichst du Deutsch?"

[Arctica-Aleutia]

A white 1965 Trabant Universal made its way up the highway and then into the parking lot outside of the Centre of the Republic building. The car was in excellent condition despite its age, and its only modifications were some tweaks to make it less polluting.

Wyatt was driving with Larisa by his side. Their children, Duncan and Marty, had been with them, but a bit earlier they had left them with a tour guide they had hired to show them around while their parents attended the meeting.

The family had travelled across the Arctic Ocean on an ocean liner along with their car before driving overland to the capital. They had traveled third class, but this was not so much to convince Nadezhda that they were not snobs as it was because they felt no real need for the luxuries of first class.

Wyatt wore a simple but well-fitting dark suit. Normally it had a slight bulge from a concealed pistol Wyatt carried for self-defense, but this time he had left it at home, thinking it not very wise to sneak a handgun into a political summit, regardless of his intentions.

Still, there was always the chance of the meeting being disrupted by operatives from less friendly nations, and to be secure against this Wyatt had hidden a blunderbuss under the car's backseat.

Larisa wore plain pants and a black blouse, along with her usual red beret, which at home signaled that one sympathized with the socialist cause. she looked otherwise normal, except she was a bit pale and if one looked closely they might notice fangs.

After the car was parked, the husband and wife walked into the building, identified themselves, and were shown to the conference room.

"Good day!" said Wyatt jovially. "Comrades Pasichnyk and Gribov, I presume?" He pronounced the names quite well, despite not speaking a word of Russian. "I am President Wyatt of Arctica-Aleutia, and this is my wife Larisa. It's good to meet you two in person at last."

[Willania Imperium]

Emperor Augustus sits in his comfy seat next to the small table, reading a copy of The Book Thief on his eTab. As the plane slides through the air at fast speeds, the Emperor sits, reading his book as if nothing else existed in the world. Suddenly, a low dull beep echoes shortly before the voice of the pilot answers.

The interior of the Imperial Plane

"This is your captain speaking. As you can see, we're flying over Kirislavian airspace. We will soon be arriving at the airport, where our passenger will be meeting at the Kirislavian summit in Beloransk. We will be landing soon. Please place all unattached objects in their correct spot."

Sighing, the Emperor places his eTab under his seat. The plane slants downward, and gravity can be felt by the Emperor as he calmly looks out of the city. In the outskirts, smoky chambers sit on roofs of noisy smoky factories lie out like social outcast of the city. Inside, concrete and steel are the lifeblood, creating many of the city's buildings. How dull, thought the Emperor. Even with concrete and steel, many iconic and wondrous things could be made. The plane finally lands in the airport, and the captain states calmly,

"Please leave your seat, passenger, and pick up your Insta-Translator. We hope you enjoy the summit."

"Thank you, AIM," replied the Emperor, as he walked out of his seat and reached at his table. At that moment, the table opened, revealing the small, barely noticeable Insta-Translator. Picking it up, the Emperor gently placed it in his ear. Amazing what technology can do. With a fast voice translator, I can be able to listen to them in English and speak to them indirectly in their languages. The Emperor walked out to the cockpit. Inside, two empty chairs stand inside.

"Again, we hope you luck, Emperor."

"Thank you, AIM." The Emperor left the cockpit and walked into the airport. Inside, very few inhabited the building, and the few who did immediately noticed him as a man of royalty.

"That's the Emperor! He's one of the people in the Summit!"
"I've heard he used to work as a scientist in the labs!"
"I've heard he used to own several companies!"
"I've heard he was so attractive that he is a playboy!"
"I can see why. He's so adorable!"

The Emperor chuckles as he leaves the Airport. There, a limo black as night and clean as a whistle occupied space in front. The Emperor saw his nation's flag on one of the limo's antenna and climbed into it.

"Emperor Augustus?" asked the driver?
"Take me to Center of the Republic."
"Of course."

As the limo sped along the road, the Emperor thought little of the drive. Instead, his mind wondered on other things. The recent summit with his cousin, the new embassies, and the Hurricanist threat. As such, he didn't notice the end of the drive until the driver said, "We're here, Emperor."
Coming back to reality, the Emperor left the limo and thanked the driver, before entering the building. After a while, he found the room.

Conference Room #2

Breathing in an anxious breath, the Emperor pushed the doors and walked in with a grin on his face.

"Premier Pasichnyk, Party Leader Gribov, thank you for inviting me. President Wyatt and First Lady Larisa, how are the kids? Phoenix Empress Helga, it is nice to see a royal."

[Arctica-Aleutia]

-snip-

Wyatt shook hands with the Emperor.

"Good to see you. Duncan and Marty are just fine. A tour guide is showing them some of the city's landmarks right now. Marty's probably enthralled by it all, though I imagine Duncan just wishes he had his cell phone."

He neglected to mention that Marty had been killed during the war with Kreucia and then returned as a ghost. This may have made sense back home, but the multiverse was a varied place and Wyatt did not want to come across as a delusional fool.

[Kirislavia]

Gribov reciprocated Helga's hug and responded to her in German. "I sure do," he said. "So, you've been liking Kirislavia? It's not too stuffy for you? Too socialist? ...Well, I suppose you haven't been here long enough to really get a taste for it."

The Premier was kept busy with greeting the others who showed up. "President Wizzard, Comrade Korolev, so nice to see you!" she exclaimed, offering them both handshakes. "And Emperor Willanius, hello! I'm so glad you could make it. It's wonderful to see all of you in person."

Turning away from his conversation with Helga for a moment, Gribov offered a warm, pleasant smile as he welcomed the others. "Hello, my friends," he said. "On behalf of the Communist Party, I'd like to welcome you all to Kirislavia. And... ah..." he paused, pursing his lips as he searched his brain for a good joke to make. None came to mind, though.

Pasichnyk knew the look on Gribov's face all too well--it meant he was essentially done talking, but if left to his own devices long enough, he would tell a terrible joke. She cut him off before that could happen. "Comrade Korolev, please do let me know, later on, what your children think of Kirislavia. I am always so curious to know how foreign youth feel about it. My own son, he loves our little country, but he could be a tad bit biased given who his mother is," she said.

[Arendelle und Wesselton und Sud-Inseln]

"Speaking of youth, what exactly are the schools like over here?" Helga wondered, her interpreter repeating in Russian. "I know uniforms are mandatory -- which I don't support, by the way -- but little else. Like what the lessons are like; is there a lot of memorisation? Are teachers the absolute authority, or can students challenge them if they disagree? How do students address their teachers? And finally, do most students enjoy school?"

[Kirislavia]

"I'm glad you asked, dear Empress. We have a short school week. Students go for six hours, four days a week, and are not given homework except in university. It's to give them a lot of time for leisure, friends, and family," Pasichnyk said, pouring herself a cup of coffee and asking Helga if she'd like one as well before continuing to answer her questions.

"Students usually refer to them as 'Comrade Teacher', either with or without the teacher's surname following it. And while the teacher does have authority in the classroom, students may challenge them without repercussions," she explained. "I'm sure you're imagining our classrooms are very strict, where students must be quiet and sit up straight and whatnot. That's not really the case -- I think foreigners are always surprised to see how much casual conversation goes on between students in our classrooms. There are lectures too, of course, and things students need to memorise, but we think it's more important students work on projects with others and build a sense of camaraderie," she said with a smile.

Leaning casually up against the table with his hands in his pockets, Gribov chimed in: "I liked going to school. So much that I went for an additional five years and got a degree in electronics engineering that I haven't needed in decades, ever since I went into government."

Pasichnyk merely shook her head at that comment, and continued, "I wouldn't say our students love school, but it's a rare nation that could say that. I think they don't mind it, and don't find it overly stressful. They learn a lot from it, since we don't overwork them." She blew on her coffee to cool it down, before taking a sip.

[Arendelle und Wesselton und Sud-Inseln]

"Oh, I'm good," said Helga in response to being offered the coffee. The Phoenix Empress was one of those people who did not like the taste of coffee at all; she also did not drink any alcohol or smoke.

"Well, it's nice to hear that students can actively participate in lessons and question their teachers. Previously, my impression of Eastern schools was that teachers did all the talking and students simply wrote down everything they said word-for-word. I'm glad this isn't the case all the time in Kirislavia," Helga said.

"And another thing: from the openly available information I have of the Kirislavian education system, it seems teachers are allowed to hit their students. What types of misbehaviour are penalised in this way, and what is the manner of physical punishment? Do teachers use their bare hands, or an instrument like a ruler or cane? In Arendelle, physical punishment is strictly forbidden in schools and homes; teachers who used it would be immediately dismissed and face criminal charges."

[Gaozu]

Not wanting to attract too much attention, Qinshi made his way into Kirislavia via the economy section of an Air Gaozu flight. Stepping off the plane in casual clothes, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his beige jacket and made his way across the airport to collect his luggage before going off to rent a car at the rentals desk.

That being said, he did take with him a small detail of staff, including an aide to help with things like directions (with which he was terrible), and a member of security just in case. Despite his distinctive hairdo, he managed to make his way through the airport with less than two or three spottings to start his drive to the meeting place.

"Wow, this is a lot colder than I expected!", he said to his head of security Jiang Shufen. She replied with a roll of the eyes, before pulling her scarf slightly tighter and folding up the collars of her fake fur-line jacket as a way to tell leader how stupid he'd been to forget warmer clothes.

"You've been too preoccupied with remaining unnoticed and being humble to actually think about what you're doing."

As the journey drew to a close, Qinshi thought more about what he wanted to achieve at this summit. He knew he'd faced criticism from socialist leaders in the past for his experimentation with mixed economics. He could think of two scenarios coming from the following meeting. The first would involve some kind of mutual understanding, where he felt it was ok for him to carry on with his economic experiments with support from some new socialist allies. The second involved a drastic move towards the economic left. He was prepared for either outcome.

"Okay, we're here!" his aide announced, just before he missed his final turning.

As the rental car pulled up outside the conference building, he had time to quickly change into a more formal yellow and orange yukata with an ornate, white headband symbolising his wish for pleasant diplomacy topping of the look.

"Right then," he announced to his colleagues who were by this time cooped up together outside the side entrance to the building, complaining about the rain, "let's go inside, shall we?"

[Kirislavia]

Pasichnyk nodded in response to Helga's question. "This is true, though we've phased out corporal punishment to an extent over the years. Back when I was in school, there was a lot you'd get beaten for: dissent against communism, disrespect to the teacher, breaking the uniform rules, and so on. These days, it's mostly used in cases of bullying; we take a pretty serious stance against that. But I question whether we should keep using it--I don't like the idea of using violence against children," she explained. "To answer your other question, it's usually done with a ruler. Certainly no whips; I think that's ridiculously harsh. I wouldn't want my son to suffer that kind of punishment."

Vice Chairman Gribov loudly greeted Qinshi when he entered the room. "Comrade, it's so good to see you!" he exclaimed, going over to shake his hand. He could appreciate how brightly Qinshi was dressed--it was a welcome change from the beige and grey monotony that usually could be seen in the halls of the Centre. Gribov, himself, was wearing a suit in a rather dull (and hideous) shade of greenish-brown. "I'm glad you could make it; hope it's not too cold here for you. So, how has everything been faring in Gaozu?"

[Arctica-Aleutia]

Gribov reciprocated Helga's hug and responded to her in German. "I sure do," he said. "So, you've been liking Kirislavia? It's not too stuffy for you? Too socialist? ...Well, I suppose you haven't been here long enough to really get a taste for it."

The Premier was kept busy with greeting the others who showed up. "President Wizzard, Comrade Korolev, so nice to see you!" she exclaimed, offering them both handshakes. "And Emperor Willanius, hello! I'm so glad you could make it. It's wonderful to see all of you in person."

Turning away from his conversation with Helga for a moment, Gribov offered a warm, pleasant smile as he welcomed the others. "Hello, my friends," he said. "On behalf of the Communist Party, I'd like to welcome you all to Kirislavia. And... ah..." he paused, pursing his lips as he searched his brain for a good joke to make. None came to mind, though.

Pasichnyk knew the look on Gribov's face all too well--it meant he was essentially done talking, but if left to his own devices long enough, he would tell a terrible joke. She cut him off before that could happen. "Comrade Korolev, please do let me know, later on, what your children think of Kirislavia. I am always so curious to know how foreign youth feel about it. My own son, he loves our little country, but he could be a tad bit biased given who his mother is," she said.

Wyatt and Larisa shook her hand, and Larisa spoke.

"My son Marty always enjoys learning about different countries and their traits, so I'm sure he's having the time of his life. But Duncan... Duncan's smart and he likes learning too, but he's a bit introverted, and I imagine he'd rather be inside on a laptop."

Suddenly a look of concern crossed her face briefly.

"I really hope Marty doesn't get himself into trouble. Don't get me wrong, he's very interested in your country, but he can be a bit... stubborn. A few years ago, before I married Wyatt, I tried to bring him on a trip here, but he wouldn't give up some Western music at the border. I hope he hasn't tried anything this time."

Wyatt decided to change the subject.

"I'm sure Marty will be fine. He's a well-behaved young man. Perhaps we should see what Comrade Pasichnyk wished to discuss today?"

[Nanakai]

When the Mililani I, President Alea Kalākaua's airship, landed at Beloransk, it was about time for the President to get to the Centr Respubliki - she was quite late.
To the pilot, she said, "Okay, that was it for the first, Keoke. Mahalo! Go get yourself some vodka somewhere."
Keoke nodded. When she wanted to leave the plane, he suddenly called, "Alealea! You've forgotten your jacket!"
Kalākaua turned around. "Oh, yeah. Really ain't used to that."
She put the jacket on - she had to purchase a padded jacket in a duty-free shop to not become deep-freezed. There were no such jackets in Nanakaʻi - no one would buy it in a tropical island state with a yearly average temperature of 33°C.
She got driven to the CR in an iconic Moskvich 408 - a vehicle she remembered to be seen in her early childhood, after the collapse of the Nanakaian People's Republic. The windshield wipers were running on high tours fighting the Kirislavian rain.
Seems like these things can deal with snow better than with water - she thought.
The driver stopped right at the entrance of the CR. "Hvala lepo" - she said and gave some money to him.

When Alea Kalākaua entered the conference room, she noticed the other leaders who got invited were already there. I knew it - she thought.
Then she said, "Hello! Sorry I'm late, but we had some whirlwind in Noelani and couldn't depart sooner. Vsyem privyet tovarishchi!" - she nodded over to Pasichnyk and Gribov. "What did I miss? - Oh, and I feel quite convenient speaking a language I excel at. English is not a big deal either, of course - but still, spricht hier noch jemand Deutsch? - Il' da li neko ovde govori srpski?"

[Arendelle und Wesselton und Sud-Inseln]

Helga's face lit up when she heard her own language being spoken. "Hey, Alea!" the Phoenix Empress cheerfully blurted out as she rushed over to give the president a hug. "I'm Helga," she said. "It's quite nice to see another friend here."

Although Nanaka'i and Arendelle had different systems of government -- Nanaka'i was a republic and Arendelle was an absolute monarchy -- both countries shared the same culture. In addition, the two nations had recently exchanged embassies, and Phoenix Empress Helga thought of Nanaka'i as a "second Leonoria".

[Kirislavia]

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Pasichnyk said, trying to assuage Larisa's fears. "They're children; it's not like our police would give them some awful punishment."

"Unless they somehow become drug dealers in the short couple of hours you're gone," Gribov chimed in unhelpfully.

"Yes, unless they become drug dealers," she repeated sarcastically, as to mock the fact that Gribov would even think of such a thing. "Still, Comrade Korolev, if you find that they have gotten into trouble upon your return... give me a call; I'll sort things out."


Pasichnyk looked up to see Alea Kalākaua had arrived. "Privyet, Ms. Kalākaua. You're not late at all--right on time, actually."

"Ja, ich spreche Deutsch. Willkommen in Kirislavia, Genossin," Gribov responded to Alea, always happy to show off any of the three languages he'd taught himself. He glanced over at the Premier to see her pick up the folder of notes he'd been perusing earlier--as long as he didn't have to read it, and wear his embarrassing glasses in front of everyone, he was fine. Right now, he had the offending pearly glasses tucked away in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, where nobody had to bear witness to them. It was where they belonged, short of in the trash can.

Pasichnyk pulled up a chair at the head of the table and sat down. "Right, so, now that we're all here..." She hesitated for a moment, which gave Gribov a chance to pipe in.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why we gathered you here today," he said, a grin appearing on his face. "Man, I've always wanted to say that."

The Premier scoffed. "Can you take something seriously for once, Comrade Vice Chairman?" she asked, using his proper title to signify she meant business. She continued, "As I was trying to say... in recognition of the rising hostility in the world today, and in the interest of building camaraderie with the people of foreign nations, we wanted to gather a few somewhat like-minded nations to ours. Those who treat the proletariat with dignity and respect, who oppose tyranny, and so on and so forth," she said, flipping to the next page of Gribov's notes with a loud flourish of the paper. "So, my dear comrades and friends, on behalf of the Kirislavian Communist Party, I would like to express our interest in forming mutually-beneficial diplomatic agreements. Non-aggression pacts, cultural exchanges, migration treaties..."

Gribov coughed loudly. "Trade agreements," he added. "We could really stand to import more varieties of food, and Kirislavia has plenty to offer in return--automobiles, consumer goods, our native agricultural products like grain and fish, and raw materials such as iron and copper." He personally hoped they could make an agreement to import plums; it'd been too long since he'd had good rakia.

"Yes, that too," Pasichnyk agreed, looking up from her notes with a smile and reaching across the table to take a sugar cookie.

[Arctica-Aleutia]

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Pasichnyk said, trying to assuage Larisa's fears. "They're children; it's not like our police would give them some awful punishment."

"Unless they somehow become drug dealers in the short couple of hours you're gone," Gribov chimed in unhelpfully.

"Yes, unless they become drug dealers," she repeated sarcastically, as to mock the fact that Gribov would even think of such a thing. "Still, Comrade Korolev, if you find that they have gotten into trouble upon your return... give me a call; I'll sort things out."


Pasichnyk looked up to see Alea Kalākaua had arrived. "Privyet, Ms. Kalākaua. You're not late at all--right on time, actually."

"Ja, ich spreche Deutsch. Willkommen in Kirislavia, Genossin," Gribov responded to Alea, always happy to show off any of the three languages he'd taught himself. He glanced over at the Premier to see her pick up the folder of notes he'd been perusing earlier--as long as he didn't have to read it, and wear his embarrassing glasses in front of everyone, he was fine. Right now, he had the offending pearly glasses tucked away in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, where nobody had to bear witness to them. It was where they belonged, short of in the trash can.

Pasichnyk pulled up a chair at the head of the table and sat down. "Right, so, now that we're all here..." She hesitated for a moment, which gave Gribov a chance to pipe in.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why we gathered you here today," he said, a grin appearing on his face. "Man, I've always wanted to say that."

The Premier scoffed. "Can you take something seriously for once, Comrade Vice Chairman?" she asked, using his proper title to signify she meant business. She continued, "As I was trying to say... in recognition of the rising hostility in the world today, and in the interest of building camaraderie with the people of foreign nations, we wanted to gather a few somewhat like-minded nations to ours. Those who treat the proletariat with dignity and respect, who oppose tyranny, and so on and so forth," she said, flipping to the next page of Gribov's notes with a loud flourish of the paper. "So, my dear comrades and friends, on behalf of the Kirislavian Communist Party, I would like to express our interest in forming mutually-beneficial diplomatic agreements. Non-aggression pacts, cultural exchanges, migration treaties..."

Gribov coughed loudly. "Trade agreements," he added. "We could really stand to import more varieties of food, and Kirislavia has plenty to offer in return--automobiles, consumer goods, our native agricultural products like grain and fish, and raw materials such as iron and copper." He personally hoped they could make an agreement to import plums; it'd been too long since he'd had good rakia.

"Yes, that too," Pasichnyk agreed, looking up from her notes with a smile and reaching across the table to take a sugar cookie.

"That would be splendid!" replied Wyatt. "And Comrade Gribov, I'm sure you'll get plenty of food imported. You'd be surprised what we can grow in the Arctic Circle... and you mentioned automobiles. I had an idea of one way we could cooperate in that industry. many of your people still use Trabants - as do I - but many parts of them are based on very old technology. An updated version has been made in Arctica-Aleutia for some time. Perhaps our engineers could exchange ideas."

Larisa rolled her eyes and suppressed a chuckle. "Oh, you always find a way to steer a conversation to cars, don't you?"

[Willania Imperium]

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Pasichnyk said, trying to assuage Larisa's fears. "They're children; it's not like our police would give them some awful punishment."

"Unless they somehow become drug dealers in the short couple of hours you're gone," Gribov chimed in unhelpfully.

"Yes, unless they become drug dealers," she repeated sarcastically, as to mock the fact that Gribov would even think of such a thing. "Still, Comrade Korolev, if you find that they have gotten into trouble upon your return... give me a call; I'll sort things out."


Pasichnyk looked up to see Alea Kalākaua had arrived. "Privyet, Ms. Kalākaua. You're not late at all--right on time, actually."

"Ja, ich spreche Deutsch. Willkommen in Kirislavia, Genossin," Gribov responded to Alea, always happy to show off any of the three languages he'd taught himself. He glanced over at the Premier to see her pick up the folder of notes he'd been perusing earlier--as long as he didn't have to read it, and wear his embarrassing glasses in front of everyone, he was fine. Right now, he had the offending pearly glasses tucked away in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, where nobody had to bear witness to them. It was where they belonged, short of in the trash can.

Pasichnyk pulled up a chair at the head of the table and sat down. "Right, so, now that we're all here..." She hesitated for a moment, which gave Gribov a chance to pipe in.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why we gathered you here today," he said, a grin appearing on his face. "Man, I've always wanted to say that."

The Premier scoffed. "Can you take something seriously for once, Comrade Vice Chairman?" she asked, using his proper title to signify she meant business. She continued, "As I was trying to say... in recognition of the rising hostility in the world today, and in the interest of building camaraderie with the people of foreign nations, we wanted to gather a few somewhat like-minded nations to ours. Those who treat the proletariat with dignity and respect, who oppose tyranny, and so on and so forth," she said, flipping to the next page of Gribov's notes with a loud flourish of the paper. "So, my dear comrades and friends, on behalf of the Kirislavian Communist Party, I would like to express our interest in forming mutually-beneficial diplomatic agreements. Non-aggression pacts, cultural exchanges, migration treaties..."

Gribov coughed loudly. "Trade agreements," he added. "We could really stand to import more varieties of food, and Kirislavia has plenty to offer in return--automobiles, consumer goods, our native agricultural products like grain and fish, and raw materials such as iron and copper." He personally hoped they could make an agreement to import plums; it'd been too long since he'd had good rakia.

"Yes, that too," Pasichnyk agreed, looking up from her notes with a smile and reaching across the table to take a sugar cookie.

Fantastic! declared the Emperor, his eyes shining. But what about research? As we may or may not know, the technology of a nation can make or break it's success. We should have research collaborations to ensure that our scientific advancement doesn't slow down. As for the trade deals, we're willing to export cheese, Evora 400s, and IT Technology. I'm willing to take anything.

[Kirislavia]

Pasichnyk smiled, clasping her hands together. "That would be wonderful! Kirislavia's cars could use a bit of an update," she said in response to Wyatt's proposition. "I don't drive a Trabi myself, I have a Volga, but I've had it since the late 1970's and, well, it's definitely on its last leg."

"Your Volga isn't a wreck because it's old. It's a wreck because you've run it into trees, sidewalks, fences..." Gribov said.

"When did this turn into a moratorium on my driving skills?" the Premier asked, chuckling with a shake of her head. She turned her attention to the Emperor, pondering his suggestions. "That's your coffee-powered car, right? I'm afraid we couldn't make much use of that. Coffee is a rare and precious commodity here. Most people drink a beverage called Like Coffee, which is one part low-quality coffee, two parts other stuff that vaguely resembles coffee."

"For the record, that pot of coffee on the table is real, imported coffee. It's safe to drink," Gribov said. "It's also very expensive here; I'd suggest someone drink some of it, so it doesn't go to waste."

"Anyway, I think some research collaboration between our nations would be a great thing, dear Emperor. And there is one area where we could really use some technological assistance--we want to automate some of our factories; our old-fashioned machinery can't keep up with the needs of our expanding population," Pasichnyk said, scribbling some notes down in the folder in front of her. "Of course, I'm not asking for your assistance and offering nothing in return. Considering your nation produces a lot of electronics, would you find it beneficial to receive raw materials from Kirislavia?"

[Arendelle und Wesselton und Sud-Inseln]

"I know something my country can offer," said Helga. "Based on what I heard and read, computers in Kirislavia use command-line operating systems. In Arendelle, we have computers with graphical user interfaces. Instead of typing in terminal commands, you would use this device called a 'mouse' to move a pointer and interact with elements on the screen. Makes using a computer much easier. Of course there is still a keyboard for typing text."

Helga reached into her bag and pulled out a small, sleek laptop computer. She powered the device on and typed in a password, bringing up the main desktop screen. The Phoenix Empress then turned the computer so the others could see the display.

"Behold: this is the Helga-Linux operating system. It's based on the Linux kernel, but I designed the user interface myself. Best of all, it's open-source, so you can modify it to suit any need," she said. The interpreter faithfully reproduced her words in Russian, so Pasichnyk could understand.

"In addition to that, we also export seafood."

[Arctica-Aleutia]

Pasichnyk smiled, clasping her hands together. "That would be wonderful! Kirislavia's cars could use a bit of an update," she said in response to Wyatt's proposition. "I don't drive a Trabi myself, I have a Volga, but I've had it since the late 1970's and, well, it's definitely on its last leg."

"Your Volga isn't a wreck because it's old. It's a wreck because you've run it into trees, sidewalks, fences..." Gribov said.

"When did this turn into a moratorium on my driving skills?" the Premier asked, chuckling with a shake of her head. She turned her attention to the Emperor, pondering his suggestions. "That's your coffee-powered car, right? I'm afraid we couldn't make much use of that. Coffee is a rare and precious commodity here. Most people drink a beverage called Like Coffee, which is one part low-quality coffee, two parts other stuff that vaguely resembles coffee."

"For the record, that pot of coffee on the table is real, imported coffee. It's safe to drink," Gribov said. "It's also very expensive here; I'd suggest someone drink some of it, so it doesn't go to waste."

"Anyway, I think some research collaboration between our nations would be a great thing, dear Emperor. And there is one area where we could really use some technological assistance--we want to automate some of our factories; our old-fashioned machinery can't keep up with the needs of our expanding population," Pasichnyk said, scribbling some notes down in the folder in front of her. "Of course, I'm not asking for your assistance and offering nothing in return. Considering your nation produces a lot of electronics, would you find it beneficial to receive raw materials from Kirislavia?"

"I could take a look at your car sometime. I have experience with maintenance; I've been able to keep my old Renault back home running smooth, and its been in the family since 1910."

"How about you wait until after this meeting for cars, Wyatt?" Larisa said. When Gribov recommended that they have some coffee, she gratefully went over and took a cup.

Wyatt stood by the table nervously for a moment before pouring himself some. "This might be a bit surprising, but I've never actually had coffee. I'm usually fine with just water or tea." But when he took a sip, he seemed to be pleased.

[Willania Imperium]

Pasichnyk smiled, clasping her hands together. "That would be wonderful! Kirislavia's cars could use a bit of an update," she said in response to Wyatt's proposition. "I don't drive a Trabi myself, I have a Volga, but I've had it since the late 1970's and, well, it's definitely on its last leg."

"Your Volga isn't a wreck because it's old. It's a wreck because you've run it into trees, sidewalks, fences..." Gribov said.

"When did this turn into a moratorium on my driving skills?" the Premier asked, chuckling with a shake of her head. She turned her attention to the Emperor, pondering his suggestions. "That's your coffee-powered car, right? I'm afraid we couldn't make much use of that. Coffee is a rare and precious commodity here. Most people drink a beverage called Like Coffee, which is one part low-quality coffee, two parts other stuff that vaguely resembles coffee."

"For the record, that pot of coffee on the table is real, imported coffee. It's safe to drink," Gribov said. "It's also very expensive here; I'd suggest someone drink some of it, so it doesn't go to waste."

"Anyway, I think some research collaboration between our nations would be a great thing, dear Emperor. And there is one area where we could really use some technological assistance--we want to automate some of our factories; our old-fashioned machinery can't keep up with the needs of our expanding population," Pasichnyk said, scribbling some notes down in the folder in front of her. "Of course, I'm not asking for your assistance and offering nothing in return. Considering your nation produces a lot of electronics, would you find it beneficial to receive raw materials from Kirislavia?"

"Hmm... I'll have a team sent over to inspect the machinery later. I expect that we just need to replace the parts. As for the materials, although it sounds tempting, we do not need any extra supplies as of now.

The Emperor walks over the pot of coffee. Holding it, he poured some into a cup. After blowing on it, he sipped it.
"Mmh... Hot! Fantastic coffee!

[Nanakai]

Alea Kalākaua had taken a cup of coffee while listening carefully.
When she was sure she would be heard by everyone, she said, "As you all know, Nanakaʻi is not really an empire - we are a tropical island nation of currently about two million people. Yet we are economically quite successful - of course mostly because of our tourism industry. But there's more we have to offer - we produce masses of cocoa, pineapples, melons - everything you like. We also can supply foreign nations with things like coffee, tobacco ... there are no limits. Uh - before you start wondering how so - we have giant vertical farming systems all over the islands. They once got established to supply ourselves in times of crises, but we also export them. Also, they save space - so we don't need to chop our valuable and beautiful tropical rainforests off. What we'd like to import though ... I've heard some of you have a fair amount of precious metals - gold, silver, all that stuff. The ʻAina Pali ʻo Nanakaʻi - so, the Nanakaian National Bank - would like to stock up their reserves a bit. - Oh, and Mr. Wyatt, would there be a chance to get your car upgrades too? And do you also have these for other brands, like Zastava? Many of us still drive the old Yugo cars we used to import from Yugoslavia in the 1980s - and some of them really shouldn't be on the road any more."