A blast from the past (Stoklomolvi/Yohannes)

[Yohannes]

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Embassy of the Stoklomolvi Liaoist Federation to the Realm of Yohannes

Kayla Williams told herself to not be afraid of Pavel Menshikov. As she descended the silver stairs of the embassy to the ambassador room, she asked herself what the communist could do to her. Even if Commissar Menshikov had been able to open the door and brandish a gun, he would not be witless enough to attack a diplomat inside the walls of an embassy—even the Yohannesian Chancellor could not get away with that.

Kayla announced herself, and she went into the guest room. Her personal assistant stood on her right side just outside the door; nervous Darryl, in the most expensive tailor-made suit and shoes, his briefcase filled to the brim with documents. The youngest of her diplomatic class, Kayla was thirty-five, just a year older than Darryl; she had her father’s spirits of rhythm, but they were now and then tempered by the thoughtfulness of her late mother, Claudia.

“Well, I guess, this is it?” said Kayla, speaking very softly to Darryl with apprehension. “As trade representative, I’ve never dealt with Stoklomolvi.”

“All I know is they are ‘communist,’ and that they used to bully us in the 2010 ‘G-20’ Summit. And that’s about it, really,” she said grumpily, opening the door, expecting to see a mean-looking party officer.

[Stoklomolvi]

Embassy of the Stoklomolvi Liaoist Federation
Realm of Yohannes
1608 hours, clear skies

Pavel adjusted his tie in front of a tall mirror. He had received notice that he was to be met by two representatives of the Yohannesian government. Like all other diplomats of the Stoklomolvi Foreign Affairs Commissariat, Representative Commissar Menshikov was a career diplomat who was trained and educated in diplomacy and negotiation since childhood. However, unlike many diplomats, Pavel had an unwanted weapon: his stature. He stood at almost two metres tall and had a thick beard. He had long given up even attempting to shave it off, having ruined countless razors and blades in his attempts. In the room with him, the preparations room that separated the reception room and his own personal quarters, stood ten of his attachés, six of them men, four of them women.

All eleven of them were dressed in identical clothes of the Foreign Affairs Commissariat: straight-black single-breasted suits with bright red ties and a service cap. Pavel himself donned a dark green long-coat. With his personnel behind him, he took a deep breath as he stood in front of the door. The Yohannesians don't approach us often for much of anything... it's anyone's guess what they're after. Relations have never been great, after all, even if they do trade with us, he thought to himself. He adjusted his service cap and emerged from the prep room into the reception room.

He saw the two Yohannesians in the room and crossed the room in only a few strides. Standing over them, he glared first at the woman, and then at the man.

"Welcome... to our offices," Pavel said. "Would you care for some... tea?" He gestured at the tea pot in the middle of a small table.

[Yohannes]

---

Bird and beast synchronised in a fleeting moment among lifetime’s most treasured memories for Kayla. Somewhere in her mind, marvelling, she looked through a screen of opportunities to watch, then adore, an agreement, drinking from the tea, the beauty and harmony suddenly apparent and included, down to the sparkle of the very drops of idea gracious from her head.

Then perfection, as if from a ballet movement—a sign and omen understandable only to the wisest and most compassionate seers. In times like these she’d miss her late mother most of all, who had disliked the art of wheeling and dealing terribly.

“Welcome ... to our offices ... would you care for some ... tea?”

Kayla was awoken from her thoughts. The room was huge, bigger than the inside of some executive offices in the Bank of Yohannes. The daunting arts and collection reminded her of the four Liaoist organs she had read about last night: the People’s Assembly, the People’s Committee, the People’s Congress, and the Commissar himself.

“Your Excellency, tea would be lovely, thank you,” she replied, giving the imposing diplomat a firm handshake—or at least, she tried to.

There was a short silence again. Kayla tried, but she found it hard to raise the subject of her visit. “Trade finance,” she said, turning to Darryl, “is something that I believe would interest you.”

“The Thirty-sixth Christian Democratic Executive Council appreciate your contributions to Stoklomolvi-Yohannesian ties, and your commitment to promoting trade financing of Yohannesian enterprises in the Liaoist Federation and vice versa.”

She gave Commissar Menshikov a letter.

“I believe that new commerce between Stoklomolvi and Yohannesian companies will offer further opportunities for our respective governments to meet their growth targets next fiscal year. The Office of Economic Analysis and Forecast has revealed that, last year, the majority of financing agreements for Stoklomolvi-Yohannesian trade were made under cash in advance and open account conditions, with Stoklomolvi and Yohannesian banks in most cases successfully fulfilling their role to support intermediate payments between Stoklomolvi and Yohannesian companies.”

“I believe that,” Kayla said with an air of finality, “our respective governments could cooperate further in this regard.”

[Stoklomolvi]

[OOC: There is a reference here but I won't spoil it for anyone.]

Hmm, a good attempt at a strong handshake, mused Pavel. He sat in front of Kayla, motioning for her and Darryl to take a seat at the table as well. As she spoke, he received her letter and skimmed through it while listening. He snapped his fingers for his trade attaché, who took the letter and started reading it in detail.

As his attaché read the letter, Pavel sat, motionless, and stared at Kayla as she finished her statements. The attaché pulled out some kind of electronic device from his jacket and began to tap at it furiously. A white stick jut out of Pavel's mouth as he appeared to chew on the end of a cigarette.

An uneasy silence fell upon the room, broken only by the assistant's tapping. After what seemed like forever (in actuality, only around 20 seconds had passed), the attaché leaned over and whispered into Pavel's ear. Pavel closed his eyes. He opened them again after another number of seconds and sipped his tea before turning to Kayla.

"In your proposal... you mention... some form of agreement between the Stoklomolvi steel and machinery industries... and the Yohannesian dairy industries. If I am to interpret your words correctly... then we have encountered a possible problem. You see... consumption rates for dairy products in Stoklomolvi are... not very high... but that is not a primary concern for me. If that fact... is known by the Yohannesian Office of Economic Analysis and... Forecast..."

He took the lollipop from his mouth.

"...then we can continue here. After all, steel and heavy machinery are vital to any thriving modern economy."

He popped the lollipop into his mouth.

"Did you have a particular bank you were interested in looking into?"

[Yohannes]

---

When the earliest ancestors of Yohannesians arrived in the Realm of Fiords and Mountain, they had envisioned a land that could be developed principally as a source of supply of primary products for the motherland in Yanitaria, and this fact was reflected in the structure of the country’s external trade throughout the seventeenth century. Yohannes’ exports were dominated by primary produce, while products entirely or partly manufactured account for nearly one-third of the country’s imports. Although the total volume of pre-industrial Yohannes’ commodity market was not great in comparison with a great many other nations, it was arguably high on a per capita basis.

Kayla knew what to say. “Even today in contemporary Yohannes, they say, the Bible Belt regions continue to display the ‘real Yohannes’—it’s normal to see many industrious fifth-generation Yohannesian farming families. Not foreign-sounding immigrants from the Rainbow Country.”

“Your Excellency, I’m not saying that one is better than the other. I’m simply trying to show that, when we get down to its roots, the Nineteen Countries is still partly a pastoral and agricultural nation. Vast regions producing milk and butter, not machinery and steel; cows and grass, not petroleum. Millions of cattle and dairy cows in family-owned farms; countless pigs and thousands of racing horses. The agricultural and pastoral employs many Yohannesians.”

“Taking this into account, we have chosen the Stoklomolvi Agricultural Bank.”

“Your nation has always been an important trading partner—we’ve long enjoyed the competitive prices of Stoklomolvi steel and your country’s petroleum, mining, shipbuilding, steel, chemicals and machinery manufacturing exports.”

Here she would tell of the Southern economy; of how heartland Yohannesians must earn their living from the land, and of the production of butter, cheese and milk. She said, “This short story is accompanied by a note of joy as we show you our farmers and their family-owned grassland enterprise.” Kayla opened her thick folder to show the many pictures of smiling farmers and their underpaid Asiatic immigrant manual labourers.

[Stoklomolvi]

[OOC: Yanitaria? Now that's a name I haven't seen in years.]

Pavel sat and listened to Kayla speak. I can't imagine Yohannes being particularly affluent, pondered Pavel, considering its high agricultural export proportion to the rest of its exports. Still, my assistant's report on the exports of Yohannes did indicate a relatively healthy economy compared to certain ones I can think of, heh. As he continued listening and thinking to himself, he simply stared at Kayla with a narrow-eyed glare.

"...the bible belt..." A bible belt? Pavel felt a shiver run up his spine. How primitive.

"...an important trading partner..." Pavel gently nodded.

When Kayla presented her folder of photographs, Pavel focused primarily on the underpaid Asian labourers in the photos. While Pavel was not of Asian descent, he was distinctly aware of inequality issues in many foreign countries. In particular, he was aware of discrimination on racial lines. However, he could not say anything. After all, he thought, this is a country of an agricultural nature. It's just none of our affairs, however sad it may seem.

He studied the photographs. After a few moments, he stood up and straightened his tie. With a genuine smile, Pavel said to Kayla, "I'm sure... that the Stoklomolvi Agricultural... Bank would be more than happy... to make arrangements. More tea, Ms Kayla? Mr... Darryl?" He snapped his finger at his financial attaché and motioned her towards him. "Contact the... Agricultural Bank at once."

She saluted him, proclaimed, "Yes, sir," and marched back into preparations room. Silence once again fell upon the receptions room. Pavel's subordinates stood in neat little rows like toy soldiers in the side of the room, while Pavel himself now stared at Darryl. I need to stop staring at them, but they're such a strange people, these... Yohannesians. I wonder how old this twitchy looking young man is...

His eyes narrowed into what appeared to be an angry squint.

[Yohannes]

---

Out-of-Character information: Before Yanitaria ceased to exist we had struck an agreement that the earliest Yohannesian colonisers would come from the Kingdom of Canhadast—though he did tell me in the end that he was planning to apply retroactive continuity for his nation, I still kept the “Kingdom of Canhadast” as Yohannes’ canon to make things simple/not having to replace existing canon.

Kayla tore her mind away from the oppressive outlook of the underpaid Asiatic immigrant farmhands. “Since 2010, the Realm of Fiords and Mountain has seen, on average, around one million permanent migrants entering its borders every year. With around four and a half million temporary work permits lodged by prospective migrants the last fiscal year alone, I’m proud to say that the Nineteen Countries is an open and thriving multicultural state.”

She knew it was not entirely true. Migrants, especially Asiatics, were not given many rights, nor were they looked at positively by many working-class Yohannesians. Asiatic migrants were welcomed by business owners and middle-class Yohannesians for their cheap labour and diversity brownie points—but not by blue-collar workers who had to compete with them for the ever-shrinking number of manufacturing jobs while tolerating stagnating wage growth.

Kayla stood up, attempting to approach Commissar Menshikov. She instead knocked herself over the chair and dropped her cup of tea—red and boiling hot, splashing the mean-looking ambassador.

Kayla was horrified.

“Your Excellency ... I’m very sorry ... I,” Kayla said sheepishly, her face instantly flushing. She was gaping at Commissar Menshikov, lost for words.

[Stoklomolvi]

[OOC: I'm actually not 100% sure where to go from here... since there's nothing particularly disagreeable going on except the tea.]

While pondering the plight of Asian immigrant workers, Pavel was shocked when Kayla poured her tea on his head.

"AUGH!" he cried out. He tore the cap off his head and flung it on the floor. His subordinates rushed to grab some cold water from the diplomatic refrigerator. The first one to arrive back to Pavel unceremoniously dumped a bottle of water on him, drenching his coat. Pavel then quickly tossed his coat on the ground as well.

Pavel clenched his fist before running his hand through his hair. Forcing a smile, he turned to Kayla. "Sometimes, accidents... happen. I'm sure I would be... just as apologetic had I spilled my tea, as well."

He crossed his arms, and said, "Besides... no harm done, except a little smarting... and some mildly stained clothes." His heart rate slowed, and his smile became more genuine. "Now, I believe we had some... other arrangements on our schedule?"

Pavel's subordinates, after the momentary rush, glanced at each other as they once again stood at attention. Surely, they thought, Pavel would know what was next on the agenda?

[Yohannes]

---

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Darryl sighed.

It was a gorgeous, wintry day outside, sharp without being so cold that he would have to immediately go back. It was too embarrassing to be inside. Kayla had almost closed the deal on the Stoklomolvi Agricultural Bank, but she was struggling to ask the important, more controversial questions. Commissar Menshikov, nodding from time to time, was ripe for the taking. And then the tea thing happened. Darryl had to go outside to avoid the silliness of it all.

“What are they up to inside?” Kayla’s young attaché, standing next to him, asked.

“The usual ‘my apologies, your Excellency,’ probably. Mind checking for me?” Darryl said. As Kayla’s personal assistant for almost ten years, he was the only one able to tell her off. Anyone else doing so would risk endangering their career. Kayla was, after all, the daughter of Sir Temuera. Bankers—they control the government just as much as they control your life, he realised.

Kayla’s attaché came back.

“Does it sound like they’re all wrapped up?” Darryl said.

“Yes and no, Ambassador Williams is still obsessing over the tea,” the young attaché said. He looked amused. “Why sir? Wanting to get out of this red outpost as soon as possible?”

Darryl turned to open the door and said nothing.

As the attaché said, Kayla was still obsessing over the embarrassing incident. She looked like one of those panicking sims at the scene of the Sims 4’s fire incident that it was not even funny for him to see her behaving this way. He made a mental note to tell her to be more ambassadorial next time.

Darryl decided that he must address Commissar Menshikov now. He said, “Your Excellency, we’d like to show you something.”

Behind Darryl, the young attaché subtly gave Kayla the thumbs-up to open her folder.

She pulled out a single piece of paper and smiled.

_______________________________________________

---

The Stoklomolvi Embassy to the Realm of Yohannes
On behalf of the Stoklomolvi Liaoist Federation
19 October 2018


Dear Honourable Ambassador,

Proposal—Bank of Yohannes-Stoklomolvi Investment Bill 2019

Thank you for your executive leave dated 19 October 2018 addressed to Ms Kayla Williams, Chief Negotiator for Yohannesian Commerce and Trade with the Stoklomolvi Liaoist Federation, allowing for the following proposal to be submitted under the draft Bank of Yohannes-Stoklomolvi Investment Bill 2019 that will be tabled on 17 March 2019:


• Form of investment: to be registered with 80 per cent foreign capital by the Bank of Yohannes in Stoklomolvi enterprises in partnership with citizens and enterprises of the Stoklomolvi Liaoist Federation; and
  
  
• Application for the registration of the Stoklomolvi Yohannes Bank General Partnership according to existing Stoklomolvi company statutes for the purposes of foreign investment and physical branches and banking operations in the Stoklomolvi Liaoist Federation;
This proposal was made on 27 September 2018 and needs to be confirmed by the Government of His Excellency the Stoklomolvi Commissar Vladimir Stuyonovich on behalf of the Stoklomolvi Liaoist Federation.


Yours faithfully,

SANSA

Sansa Lovebright
Office of Government Ethics

CLAUDIA

The Honourable Claudia Wintergreen, Emperor’s Counsel
Chair of the Realm Law Commission

Telephone 585 3 712 3421Facsimile 585 3 712 3121Email a.thorndonstevensonn@ministers.govt.yo
Private Bag 15170, Parliament House Buildings, Royal Alexandria 3510, Kingdom of Alexandria, The Yohannesian Realm.

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[Yohannes]

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-+-PUNCH CORPORATION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-+-

Maréchal-Le Men
Parliament House
ONLINE

Wrote a shout out just a while ago:

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“Today, I am extending an existing bilateral treaty of friendship, commerce and trade between the Stoklomolvi Liaoist Federation and the Realm of Fiords and Mountain that preserves the long-established chapter of this country’s history of trade and commerce with ... countries beyond the International Incidents.”

Join @Maréchal-Le Men Parliament House for a sneak peek of a virtual tour of the Parliament House as the eighteenth President of the Electoral College ratifies the Stoklo-Yohannesian Treaty of Commerce and Trade.

“Yes we can.”

“Believe in Change—believe in you.”

#Marioncare #NationStates2018

A blast from the past — Stoklomolvi and Yohannes

Thank you for your executive leave dated 19 October 2018 allowing for the following proposal to be submitted under the draft Bank of Yohannes-Stoklomolvi Investment Bill 2019 that will be tabled on 17 March 2019. “I do not own the rights to this opinion article and video.”

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-+-PUNCH CORPORATION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-+-

[Stoklomolvi]

While Kayla was panicking, and Pavel tried to calm her down with an embarrassed "now, now" sort of smile, his own subordinates were rushing about the room cleaning after the tea-spilling incident. After several minutes of chaos, Darryl opened the door and peered inside. Pavel noticed the door's movement and excused himself from Kayla.

"Pardon me a moment, Miss Kayla," said Pavel. "Do have a seat... we'll take care of everything, don't you worry!"

With that, he turned and was approached by Darryl's attaché and presented with the bank proposal. He pondered over it for some time. After some silence between Pavel and the attaché, with Kayla still worrying in the background and being soothed by Pavel's subordinates, Pavel smiled.

"I'll be sure to submit the signed document to your... quango headquarters as soon as possible. I believe that the Stoklomolvi Agricultural Bank head... will be able to respond in short order, and we will see if it is... necessary for the Commerce Commissariat to offer his... direct approval. I don't think... it will take long," said Pavel.

[OOC: Sorry about the delay and the short post; I needed to sort some things out on my end.]

[Yohannes]

---

Kayla was surprised. She said, “Which quango, your excellency?”

Pavel was just an uninformed communist. How could he know about the quango and its part in the centrality of the decision-making process around her government?