Diplomacy between G C Bakura and Pakania (Invite Only)

[Pakania]

IC: G C Bakura and Pakania began diplomatic relationships in November when the Pakanian Representative, Perlas Idebriagana, contacted their leader, Rocket Scion.
As the nation has had relatively new elections, part of El Partido Progressivo de Pakania promise to Pakanians is to collaborate with international and regional countries, especially neighbours such as G C Bakura, for the betterment of Pakania's growth, economic potential, and ideal living standards.
The Pakanian government found that Bakurans live in the safest country in the region. Respecting the ambitions and sharing the common goal of keeping citizens safe and upholding their well-being before anything else, the Pakanian government was most interested in hearing from a possible future ally. For this Bakuran feat, they are most impressed and expressed their wish to have diplomatic collaboration between The Shining Islands of G C Bakura and la (Segunda) República de Pakania (Republic of Pakania).

They've exchanged meaningful plans to form economic alliances, open trade, mutual tourism, student exchange programs and distribution of knowledge, culture exploration, and more.
Both leaders have invited each other to their respective capitals, New Transylvania (G C Bakura) and Terarequí (Pakania), so to learn more about their cultures and see the wonders of their two environmentally friendly landscapes.

Perlas intends to visit, alongside Presidenta Lana Martida, New Transylvania sometime in late March, for the first day of spring events, where Bakuran events such as horse competitions, fencing, and crochet shows (Extreme Crochet) will be in abundance. These also happen around the same time as their national animal, Potato Vending Machines, return from the ocean to the shores. Events such as counting the potato vending machines, collecting potatoes, french fries, unicycle quidditch, and fencing are expected.

Originally, Perlas had invited Rocket Scion over for January 10th, for Día de los Mascarillas, so that she could feel and engage in personalized hands-on experience with Pakanian culture. This is scheduled for January 7th to the 11th.
However, to move diplomatic matters earlier, both leaders have planned for Rocket Scion to come to Terarequí on December 3rd for an unofficial diplomatic summit.

These diplomatic matters focus on discussions around building embassies and engaging in mutual trade, healthcare supplies, and commerce. Perlas has expressed a desire to update policies on visas as well as educational opportunities for both respective citizens. It is now expected that, soon, Bakruans tourists will be able to enter Pakania visa-free for 75 days.

---

{OOC: If you wish to have your country and its people participate for whatever reason, please Telegram both Pakania and G C Bakura, where only when both states have agreed, may you officially participate.}

[G C Bakura]

I'm currently at the local airport and waiting for the plane to Mexico. It seems to be mostly tourists coming home from a theme park, and a some people going to Boston, and taking the long way around. Do any airports have enough places to sit?

*****

I'm now on my way to Pakania from Panama City, in a train compartment.

Unfortunately, I had already bought tickets from Mexico City to Panama City, I think that flight would gotten me there much sooner. Ugh...

The flight to Mexico City was uneventful. However, the flight taking me to Panama City encountered some flares, and a lot of the passengers had accidents. The flight was delayed while the plane as cleaned, and a bunch of chickens got loose at the airport. I helped catch the chickens and we finally got going. The flight was pleasant. I was sitting next to a beautiful, friendly Jersey cow who was a great traveling companion, and the feed pellets were some of the best airplane food I've ever had!

If you still want to meet tonight, let me know. I am willing to meet, but ready for a quiet evening? Night? Morning? What time is it now? Argh! I'll get some sleep on the train...

*****

I believe it is 8:36 PM here, a lovely dark evening. I'm taking a well-deserved rest from the tribunal, which actually went decently. The night is young, as is the nightlife, though you must be tired from the trip. The nightlife will have to be for another night.

In about 3 hours, I will arrive at PTY airport to pick you up. I'm taking the car as I assume you've brought luggage and wish to rest. Fair warning, but Presidenta Lana Martida wishes to meet you during your time here in Pakania. She seems very enthusiastic.

*****

I was sleeping on the train when I was woken by the porter.

"Telegram!"

"In about 3 hours, I will arrive at PTY airport to pick you up."

The airport? The confusion continues. I switched trains at the next stop and went back to the airport.

When I arrived at the airport, Representative Idebriagana was waiting for me with a huge cup of coffee, which I desperately needed. I finished the drink on the way to her car, a large elegant classic model refurbished with a modern engine and safety features. The driver took us to Pakania.

On the way we discussed the tribunal, trade, idiot advisors, and art. It was too dark to see the countryside well.

We arrived at at my room, a small, well furnished suite near the government offices. I will figure out what to do tomorrow, after a full night's sleep.

*****

As Rocket Scion leaves "Arrivals," a very tall woman with a violet mask scans the passengers trying to figure out what the Bakuran leader looks like.
They recognize the Pakanian representative; she's unmistakable. Wearing the iconic Pakanian facemask and a light blue buttoned shirt matched well with dress pants stands Perlas Idebriagana. She blinks a few times and her long eyelashes flicker with the light.
She is holding a large cup of coffee in her hand.

Rocket Scion walks toward her and her small pupils revert their attention to the Bakuran leader. Perlas tilts her head.
"So you're Rocket Scion?" Perlas asks, sounding firm but friendly. Before Rocket Scion can respond, she holds the cup out to them and then proceeds to take their luggage.

They nod their thanks and Perlas asks, "How was the flight? You seem a little more tired than I expected."
"Eh," they say, yawning. "It was a little bumpy."
Perlas nods. "Well, in any case, welcome to Panama! The port that will take us to Isla del Rey is about 45 minutes away. Then, we'll take a two hour ferry that'll take us to San Miguel."

When they both reach her car, Rocket Scion has already finished their coffee. Perlas smirks, amused. She looks at them admiring her car and opens the passenger seat for them. A creamy white German Chepard is in the back seat, sleeping.

Perlas puts the luggage in the trunk and drives them to the border control, where Perlas flips out her ID and Rocket Scion shows the Pakanian authorities their passport and official/diplomatic visa. They both pass through quite quickly, without security even bothering to check the car or luggage.
"See that mural? The Pakanians made it, including me, so that when tourists from the Panamanian side come over, they can see the beauty, culture, and history of our country before coming in. The other side, which you can see when you turn around, was painted by Panamanians with the same intention in mind. It was a beautiful collaboration," she explains with warmth.

Indeed, Rocket Scion could see the lovely bright mural, well painted with Pakanian food, clothes, nature, people and historical moments captured in painting. When they both drive past, they turn around and see the same reflected but with Panamanians instead. "¡Bienvenidos a Pakania!"

"I do wish to apologize for not sounding more upbeat earlier. I usually am, and trust me, I was very much looking forward to meeting you, but today was a particularly long day," she clarifies, eyes looking at them. She focuses her sights back on the road.
Rocket Scion asks about the tribunal and Perlas stays silent. "Oh, maybe tomorrow, I don't feel like talking about it now, haha," she says finally.

They both reach Puerto Balboa and Perlas lines the car behind others waiting to board the ferry. It's too dark to make out the details of the port. Rocket Scion is about to engage in fruitful conversation but notices that Perlas looks quite tired, her eyes dropping slightly. They inquire about this and she states that she's just emotionally drained.

They both board the ferry and Perlas takes Rocket Scion outside to the deck to feel the warm night air. She closes her eyes gently and appreciates the cool wind. Her dog is beside her, wagging her tail. "I hope you don't mind, but I had planned for this to be a littttleee casual, so I hope you don't mind your stay at my house," she says and her eyes smile (Pakanians do a great deal of expressions with their eyes and eyebrows because of their masks. Perlas's eyes are very expressive).

Two hours later, the ferry arrives at San Miguel and, again, it's too dark to make out much of the coastal town's details. {As you can tell, I really don't want to go into details either, hahaha!}
From San Miguel, they drive to Terarequí, the Pakanian capital, which is 15 minutes away. They drive through the robust city and into the more tropical jungle area of the island, leaving the city behind.
Not too long after, a road leads near the Northeast up a hill, where Perlas's big house resides. Her place is solitary and there are a lot of palm trees, and a nearby mangrove forest surrounds the place. Perlas has access to a public but isolated beach. There's an undeveloped dirt pathway that leads down the hill and to the seaside, a 7 minute walk or a 4 minute jog. The pathway is outlined with seashells Perlas collected and decorated.
Just to get an idea of the house: https://metrorealtypanama.com/wp-conten ... -house.jpg

Perlas walks up the porch and up the two steps, then unlocks the front door. She beckons Rocket Scion over. "Shoes off, please."
Her dog walks inside and Perlas takes off her harness, and her dog decides to express her thanks by giving a big shake. She sets her keys in a nearby desk drawer and turns on a few lights. Her house is neatly decorated and spacious, with a few paintings and photographs framed and hanging.

Perlas jogs past them to go outside, lifting the luggage easily over her head as she enters the house. Rocket Scion asks if she'd like their help and she replies, "Oh, no, don’t worry about anything, amigo. I'm active in the military. This is nothing to me."

As she looks to the stairs leading up, she turns to gaze at the Bakuran leader. "Now, I have two guest bedrooms. Would you like the one on this floor or the one upstairs? If you're an early bird like me, the bedroom on this floor is closer to the kitchen. However, if you like sleeping in and gazing at the view, upstairs is a good option. Well, both are great options! I like the top floor, personally. My room is upstairs. There's another occupant here upstairs but she won't bother you."

She pauses and realizes. Soulessly, she says, "Just don't talk to her. I don't want my guests to mingle with the brat."
She leaves to the kitchen and lets Rocket Scion decide their choice of bedroom.

*****

I am happy when Representative Idebriagana asks me to stay at her house. I haven't gotten used to the formalities of government life, even after many years of it. My fellow politicians used to be embarrassed by this, until they realized that my commoner's habits had balanced the budget for the first time in 425 years.

My host shows me to her house, it's beautiful. It's an incredibly relaxing place.

Needing some extra sleep, I choose the upstairs room.

Brat? I wonder if we're talking about a child, sibling, or animal? It doesn't matter.

*****

After a long night sleep, I wake up the next afternoon. I join Perlas for a late lunch of omelets, and we discuss the plans for the next few days.

[Pakania]

I was sleeping on the train when I was woken by the porter.

"Telegram!"

"In about 3 hours, I will arrive at PTY airport to pick you up."

The airport? The confusion continues. I switched trains at the next stop and went back to the airport.

When I arrived at the airport, Representative Idebriagana was waiting for me with a huge cup of coffee, which I desperately needed. I finished the drink on the way to her car, a large elegant classic model refurbished with a modern engine and safety features. The driver took us to Pakania.

On the way we discussed the tribunal, trade, idiot advisors, and art. It was too dark to see the countryside well.

We arrived at at my room, a small, well furnished suite near the government offices. I will figure out what to do tomorrow, after a full night's sleep.

As Rocket Scion leaves "Arrivals," a very tall woman with a violet mask scans the passengers trying to figure out what the Bakuran leader looks like.
Rocket Scion recognize the Pakanian representative; she's unmistakable. Wearing the iconic Pakanian facemask and a light blue buttoned shirt matched well with dress pants stands Perlas Idebriagana. She blinks a few times and her long eyelashes flicker with the light.
She is holding a large cup of coffee in her hand.

Rocket Scion walks toward her and her small pupils revert their attention to the Bakuran leader. Perlas tilts her head.
"So you're Rocket Scion?" Perlas asks, sounding firm but friendly. Before Rocket Scion can respond, she holds the cup out to her and then proceeds to take her luggage.

She nods her thanks and Perlas asks, "How was the flight? You seem a little more tired than I expected."
"Eh," she says, yawning. "It was a little bumpy."
Perlas nods. "Well, in any case, welcome to Panama! The port that will take us to Isla del Rey is about 45 minutes away. Then, we'll take a two hour ferry that'll take us to San Miguel."

When they reach her car, Rocket Scion has already finished her coffee. Perlas smirks, amused. She looks at Rocket Scion admiring her car and opens the passenger seat for her. A creamy white German Chepard is in the back seat, sleeping.

Perlas puts the luggage in the trunk and drives them to the border control, where Perlas flips out her ID and Rocket Scion shows the Pakanian authorities her passport and official/diplomatic visa. They both pass through quite quickly, without security even bothering to check the car or luggage.
"See that mural? The Pakanians made it, including me, so that when tourists from the Panamanian side come over, they can see the beauty, culture, and history of our country before coming in. The other side, which you can see when you turn around, was painted by Panamanians with the same intention in mind. It was a beautiful collaboration," she explains with warmth.

Indeed, Rocket Scion could see the lovely bright mural, well painted with Pakanian food, clothes, nature, people and historical moments captured in painting. When they drive past, she turns around and sees the same reflected but with Panamanians instead. "¡Bienvenidos a Pakania!"

"I do wish to apologize for not sounding more upbeat earlier. I usually am, and trust me, I was very much looking forward to meeting you, but today was a particularly long day," Perlas clarifies, eyes looking at her. She focuses her sights back on the road.
Rocket Scion asks about the tribunal and Perlas stays silent. "Oh, maybe tomorrow, I don't feel like talking about it now, haha," she says finally.

They reach Puerto Balboa and Perlas lines the car behind others waiting to board the ferry. It's too dark to make out the details of the port. Rocket Scion is about to engage in fruitful conversation but notices that Perlas looks quite tired, her eyes dropping slightly. She inquires about this and she states that she's just emotionally drained.

They board the ferry and Perlas takes Rocket Scion outside to the deck to feel the warm night air. She closes her eyes gently and appreciates the cool wind. Her dog is beside her, wagging her tail. "I hope you don't mind, but I had planned for this to be a littttleee casual, so I hope you don't mind your stay at my house," she says and her eyes smile (Pakanians do a great deal of expressions with their eyes and eyebrows because of their masks. Perlas's eyes are very expressive).

Two hours later, the ferry arrives at San Miguel and, again, it's too dark to make out much of the coastal town's details. {As you can tell, I really don't want to go into details either, hahaha!}
From San Miguel, they drive to Terarequí, the Pakanian capital, which is 15 minutes away. They drive through the robust city and into the more tropical jungle area of the island, leaving the city behind.
Not too long after, a road leads near the Northeast up a hill, where Perlas's big house resides. Her place is solitary and there are a lot of palm trees, and a nearby mangrove forest surrounds the place. Perlas has access to a public but isolated beach. There's an undeveloped dirt pathway that leads down the hill and to the seaside, a 7 minute walk or a 4 minute jog. The pathway is outlined with seashells Perlas collected and decorated.
Just to get an idea of the house: https://metrorealtypanama.com/wp-conten ... -house.jpg

Perlas walks up the porch and up the two steps, then unlocks the front door. She beckons Rocket Scion over. "Shoes off, please."
Her dog walks inside and Perlas takes off her harness, and her dog decides to express her thanks by giving a big shake. She sets her keys in a nearby desk drawer and turns on a few lights. Her house is neatly decorated and spacious, with a few paintings and photographs framed and hanging.

Perlas jogs past Rocket Scion to go outside, lifting the luggage easily over her head as she enters the house. Rocket Scion asks if she'd like her help and she replies, "Oh, no, don’t worry about anything, amigo. I'm active in the military. This is nothing to me."

As she looks to the stairs leading up, she turns to gaze at the Bakuran leader. "Now, I have two guest bedrooms. Would you like the one on this floor or the one upstairs? If you're an early bird like me, the bedroom on this floor is closer to the kitchen. However, if you like sleeping in and gazing at the view, upstairs is a good option. Well, both are great options! I like the top floor, personally. My room is upstairs. There's another occupant here upstairs but she won't bother you."

She pauses and realizes. Soulessly, she says, "Just don't talk to her. I don't want my guests to mingle with the brat."
She leaves to the kitchen and lets Rocket Scion decide their choice of bedroom.

[Pakania]

I am happy when Representative Idebriagana asks me to stay at her house. I haven't gotten used to the formalities of government life, even after many years of it. My fellow politicians used to be embarrassed by this, until they realized that my commoner's habits had balanced the budget for the first time in 425 years.

My host shows me to her house, it's beautiful. It's an incredibly relaxing place.

Needing some extra sleep, I choose the upstairs room.

Brat? I wonder if we're talking about a child, sibling, or animal? It doesn't matter.

*****

After a long night sleep, I wake up the next afternoon. I join Perlas for a late lunch of omelets, and we discuss the plans for the next few days.

"Buenas tardes," Perlas greets as Rocket Scion descends the stairs. She motions Rocket Scion over to the table where a nice plate of omelets is fixed. She sits down and takes the fork. The omelette is well prepared, cooked and flipped, with salt and a tiny pinch of pepper sprinkled on top. Cranberry sauce is slide-marked on the plate's side, in case Rocket Scion wants to mix the omelette. A cup of coffee is beside the plate.

A lovely smell wafts from the kitchen, with eggs and toast easily sensed. https://img10.naventcdn.com/avisos/20/0 ... Image=true (This is not the table, just what the kitchen to their right looks like).

"Ah, a late sleeper, I see," Perlas remarks, her eyes soft. Her violet mask is pulled down and she's grinning gently. Six dotted scars outline her upper and lower lip. She sips her third cup of coffee gently, having already eaten breakfast a while ago.
"How was your sleep?" She asks.

[G C Bakura]

"Buenas tardes! I slept very well. It's very relaxing here."

I eat a few bites of the omelet, resisting the urge to wolf it down all once.

"This is very good, my compliments to the chef. Sorry about sleeping so late. I don't usually do that, but the travel left me very tired."

I continue eating.

"You told me that your Presidenta wished to meet me. Does she expect me soon? Or is there enough time to relax first?

[Pakania]

Perlas watches Rocket Scion eating, with her eyes shining. "You look well rested," she notices.
When she gives her compliments to the chef, Perlas beams, closing her eyes. "Thank you," she responds.

Perlas takes another sip of coffee, licks her lips and stretches, arms wide. She goes toward the sink and quickly rinses the plates and cutlery before placing them in the dishwasher. She closes it and walks back toward Rocket Scion. "No worries, we all need our sleep break," she chuckles. She clears her throat and says, "Apologies for the casualty. There's much commotion in my country..." she trails off and her eyes darken for a second, before snapping back to the table.

Rocket Scion takes great pleasure in eating her omelette and she smiles again. She inquires about the president and Perlas replies, "Oh, yes, this evening if not tomorrow evening. There is to be a court case in the next few days, tomorrow. I shall be a little busy tomorrow afternoon but then we can go and enjoy some nightlife."

[G C Bakura]

"That will give me enough time to get ready, and for you to let me know if there is anything I need to know before meeting her."

I put away my dishes. I express interest in seeing the beach, so we put on our masks and take the trail to the beach.

As expected, the weather is hotter than I'm used to, but comfortable. There are just enough clouds to keep the sun out of our eyes.

The beach is empty, aside from the colorful little creatures swimming in the tide pools.

My phone beeps. "Excuse me."

"2 minutes ago: Following new legislation in G C Bakura, only clowns with PhDs from clown college can advise Rocket Scion on G C Bakura's coulrophobia epidemic."

I shake my head and delete the message. "I don't really want to know. Those idiots can't get anything right while I'm away."

[Pakania]

Perlas leads Rocket Scion down to the isolated beach, taking care not to walk on the shells she carefully placed along the borders of the trail path. A nice arm breeze wafts through the palm trees' leaves. Perlas's dog, once hearing "Go play!" runs ahead and stops every few meters and waits for her owner to be by her side before running ahead again.

7 minutes later downhill, they reach an isolated, public beach with two boats anchored half a kilometre away.

Perlas takes off her sandals and curls her toes in the white sand. She gently closes her eyes. Rocket Scion goes near the water and stares at its clearness, the aqua hue and the starfish decorating the bottom.

The Bakuran's phone rings and she excuses herself. Perlas looks at her shaking her head and pressing her phone, saying, "I don't really want to know. Those idiots can't get anything right while I'm away."
Perlas comes over, laughing, "Ah, its the same here. Every time I leave for two weeks, something happens. I have a few stories in my pocket of instances like this."

[G C Bakura]

I ask Perlas the etiquette for meeting the President, and fortunately, it it not complex as I feared. One time I had to avoid a meeting, because it could only be conducted while riding unicycles. Apparently this policy was ended later, when the Vice-President had an earache, and knocked over 3/4 of the Senate. The Vice-President was executed for the mishap, and this inspired the citizens to overthrow the unpopular ruler. They overthrowed him over a bridge...

Perlas' dog brings me a tennis dog, and looks at me expectantly. I'm am very happy to play with her.

"Are those your boats?" I ask Perlas.
"Yes," she answers. "Would you like to see them?"

We walked to the boats, and Perlas gave me a tour. One was a small, functional boat with a motor, and the other a sporty yacht, with both a motor and a sail, more for recreation. They were beautiful, well kept crafts, a lot of love was put into them. We didn't have enough time to sail now, but hoped to in the future.

*****

I prepared to meet Presidenta Lana Martida. Normal clothing, and the traditional mask was fine.

Perlas had sent me a 12 page form asking me for head measurements, and details about glasses, hairstyles, beards, hearing aids, braces, and anything the mask might need to fit. The mask arrived before my trip, and fit perfectly over my glasses.

The driver took Perlas and I to the government building to meet the Presidenta. When we arrived, She was giving an award to the Pakania Women's Olympic Rowing Team, for their Gold Medal in the the Paris Olympics. The competition had been some time ago, but gold medalists or not, it takes a long time to row all the way from France!

Perlas was kind enough to translate.

In summary, we about trade, current events, food, festivals, and the rumored Elvis sightings in my country. I assured her that was connected to a stage show, The Twelve Elvii, featuring 12 perfect Elvis tribute artists. We got along well, but our visit was cut short by an interruption by an angry, shabby-looking man storming in riding a unicycle.

"I seek political asylum! Now!"

From the window, an arrow flies through the air, just missing the rude visitor's bald head, and crashing through and antique vase holding a rare potted plant.

"Guards!" the president yells, annoyed. "Throw this man in jail, and find whoever shot that arrow, and put them in jail, too. A different cell, please. Just until we know what's going on."

This seemed like a good time to leave. We sneaked out quietly.

*****

Perlas took me out to a club later. The music was fantastic. It's was pretty clear I needed some dance lessons, so we left early before I could start any more internet memes. Perlas promised me some dance lessons at the nearest opportunity.

*****

The next Representative Perlas needed to be at a court case. She seemed nervous about it. Her driver took her the courthouse, and then took me to the mall to do some shopping. Perlas had told me about the excellent selection of swimwear available in the area, so it seemed like a good time to get something that wasn't a plain black swimsuit. I picked out two lady's rash guards, one black pin-striped one that would photograph well, and one with a locally popular cartoon character on it, that I actually wanted. I also went to a bookstore, and got some crochet patterns and some comic books without too much text.

That evening I dined with Representative Perlas at a restaurant near the mall.

[Pakania]

"Well, they are technically Pakanian boats, so...in a way, they are mine. I just don't own them as my property, per se," she chuckles. She turns and says, "We can go ask the people onboard for a tour, we can say you're new. But for that to happen, it'll be quite a swim."
Perlas takes off her shirt and kicks off her jeans, with just a bra and underwear. Perlas assumes Rocket Scion is already used to a lot of skin in her country (as so kindly mentioned in their Telegram exchanges), so Perlas smirks and beckons her into the ocean before diving in (before Rocket Scion could see her many scars).

They reach the boat owners and Perlas starts chatting friendly with them in Spanish. Eventually, they agreed to give a tour, with one of the Pakanians helping both of them up. One was a small, functional boat with a motor, and the other a sporty yacht, with both a motor and a sail, more for recreation. They were beautiful, well-kept crafts, and a lot of love was put into them.

As they prepared to meet Presidenta Lana Martida, Rocket Scion dressed in causal clothing as does Perlas.
Perlas had sent Rocket Scion a 12-page form asking her for head measurements, and details about glasses, hairstyles, beards, hearing aids, braces, and anything the mask might need to fit. The mask arrived before her trip, and fit perfectly over her glasses.

{They don't partake in international...sports. The sports industry in Pakania is heavily underfunded unless it's swimming and shooting ranges/anything with firarms. The P.E. in Pakanian schools basically prepares youth for the military BUT in a fun deceiving way, so they focus a little less on "traditional" sports. Many internationals critic this under the guise that it's "militarizing the children," but the Pakanian government doesn't give a fuck, further saying that they are preparing their population for the future, which, under the national and mandatory conscription, is better they implement this. Additionally, the military can waste less time teaching new troops and new recruits very basic things.}

A lovely woman with Panamanian tembleques on her head and a business skirt greets them warmly, a huge smile under her mask. Presidenta Martida was talking to the Minister of Education.
"You must be Rocket Scion, ¿sí?" Lana smiles at her, her eyes warm and welcoming.

As Rocket Scion nods, Lana takes her hands gently and guides her into her office, closing the door after Perlas. She sits down on an exotic comfortable chair and sips coffee while looking at the Bakuran leader with interest.
"I'm so pleased to meet you in person, señora. Perlas tells me that your nation is eager to engage in diplomatic relationships almost as much as we do with yours, yes? Well, I was hoping to find the opportunity to talk about building embassies and engaging in mutual trade, healthcare supplies, and commerce!"

"Yes, to have it official by the end of your stay," Perlas adds, standing beside her president.

Lana sets her cup down and fluffs out her skirt. Then, she offers Rock Scion and Perlas some biscuits. Perlas nods her thanks and takes it, pulling back down her Pakanian face mask in the process. "Perlas has expressed a desire to update policies on visas as well as educational opportunities for both respective citizens."

She's about to continue when interruption by an angry, shabby-looking man storming in riding a unicycle. "I seek political asylum! Now!"
Perlas swiftly takes out a mean-looking dagger and growls protectively, shielding Lana and Rocket Scion just as a shot rings out, missing the rude visitor's head, and crashing through an antique vase holding a rare potted plant.

"Security!" Perlas shouts, annoyed. A sleek-looking Pakanian security officer comes in with a freshly shot gun. Lana looks at her plant pot with sadness and she pouts.
"Throw this man in jail for interrupting a private meeting," Perlas orders. She looks at the president's broken vase and looks back to the security officer."Better aim next time. You are to pay for the damage."
Lana shakes her head and says softly, "No need. Accidents happen. I would've rather the bullet break my vase than kill this man."

As the shabby-looking man is taken away, Lana reverts back to the conversation and they talk of trade, current events, food, festivals, and the rumoured Elvis sightings in G C Bakura. The meeting was productive and many new documents have been signed. A few Ministers come in and oversee the papers that need to be signed and then leave.

Lana shakes Rocket Scion's hand firmly but gently, two hands clasped, and she tells her she looks forward to seeing her again on January 10th.


Perlas takes Rocket Scion to a club that night. The club is festive and the people are dancing and chatting to remixes of various Latin American and Caribbean music. Perlas takes out a cigarette but then looks at Rocket Scion in revelation and puts it back. She had forgotten she was allergic to tobacco. Though the Bakuran leader may need a small work on her dancing moves, Perlas nonetheless compliments and engages with her, taking her arms and her hands to make her twirl.
They left before Rocket Scion could start any more internet memes. Perlas promises her some dance lessons at the nearest opportunity. That evening they dined at a restaurant near the mall. Rocket Scion is to do some shopping while Perlas is going to the court case. Perlas seems nervous and irritated about it.

Perlas had told me about the excellent selection of swimwear available in the area, so it seemed like a good time to get something that wasn't a plain black swimsuit. I picked out two lady's rash guards, one black pin-striped one that would photograph well, and one with a locally popular cartoon character on it, that I actually wanted. I also went to a bookstore, and got some crochet patterns and some comic books without too much text.

Weird enough, Perlas doesn't come to pick her up so the driver offers to drop her off at Perlas's house. When Rocket Scion returns to her house, Perlas is at the front door with an ankle monitor.
"I'm under house arrest," she says emotionless.

[G C Bakura]

(OOC: Thank for the fixes! I had figured I would make mistakes, but couldn't get the story going without making some guesses. Also, I have no idea how your legal system works.)

"Wait, what is going on?" I ask, after Perlas awkwardly shows me the ankle monitor. "I knew you where going to court, but I had assumed you where the lawyer or a witness..."
"Courts here are a little different. If the lawyer loses, they are subject to 5% the punishment of their client. But that's not what happened here."
I nod.
"This was about the trip to Freelandia. I was asked to speak against them, but the person who asked me to do so disappeared mysteriously. The person who filled in really did not want me speaking out against them."
"That's terrible."
"Yes, but not unexpected."
"Is there anyone that can fix this?"
"Yes, the President can, but I don't want to put her in danger. I've contacted a few people."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Umm, for now, could you get me more cigarettes, and use that as an excuse to see if anyone is lurking around outside the gates?"
"Sure."

I walked to the convenience store and back, looking around carefully along the way.

"Well?"
I handed her the cigarettes. "I saw two people near the property, the gardener near the front garden, and a man dressed in black in front of the gate, talking on a cell phone."
"The man in black is a security guard, he's supposed to be here. The gardener - he usually doesn't work today. Let me check the security cameras."

No surprise, the property was well equipped with security cameras. "That's not the normal gardener." Perlas pointed at the monitor. "My gardener uses a cane."

[Pakania]

{The story is predetermined already in the other roleplay. She was put on house arrest for the mistreatment of a hostage (and the murder of Pedro Tuvali). She lost access to the hostage. The president approved of this too. You'd be surprised, but Perlas doesn't like her people doing things for her. She enjoys her own autonomy, like driving, gardening, and taking care of the cooking and cleaning (unless her hostage is present).}

"Wait, what is going on?" Rocket Scion asks after Perlas awkwardly shows her the ankle monitor. "I knew you were going to court, but I had assumed you were the lawyer or a witness..."

Perlas sits down on her front porch.
"I WAS for the first one. But then another trial came up suddenly. Concrete evidence was used. Anyhow," she says bitterly as she rips open a pack of cigarettes, "I've also been placed in an anger management and alcohol abuse program. It's bullshit, I don't have an alcohol addiction."
She's about to light her cigarette but stops. "Tobacco and coffee maybe, but not liquor." She doesn't say why she ended up under house arrest.

"That's terrible. Is there anyone that can fix this?" Rocket Scion asks.
Perlas shakes her head once and plays with her lighter.

"Is there anything I can do?" Rocket Scion says quietly.
Perlas looks up and pauses to think. She shakes her head vigorously and says, "I think it might be best you leave..." She snaps her lighter shut. "It's only 6 months...besides, you're still welcome to come January 10th. If I don't end up celebrating because of...this," she motions to the monitor, "then I'm sure Lana will have the pleasure of entertaining you."

Rocket Scion looks unconvinced and Perlas adds grumply, "You should go before the police arrive to check on me. I've had enough fuck ups for one day."

[G C Bakura]

(OOC: Thanks for clearing this up, I was sure I had missed something somewhere. Sorry about including household help, it seemed useful for the story, but I'll drop these characters.)

I really didn't want to leave Perlas now, but I agreed that it might be a danger if I stayed here.

The ship with the medicine was arriving soon, and that appeared to be the simplest way to get home, and not that much slower than going by air. I went to the area by taxi, and blended in with the tourists until the ship arrived.

I had notified the Captain that I wished to go home on the ship, without giving her too many details, but she could tell things weren't going well. The empty ship was quiet, I helped with the work where I could. I did a lot of laundry, from the smell of the clothing I don't think anyone knew how to use the washing machine. Embarrassing.

Upon arrival, an advisor ran to me screaming "The clowns! Oh! The clowns!"
"This can wait for tomorrow. There are more important things to deal with now."
"But it's under my bed!"
"Get a warm glass of milk and go back to bed." I leave for my office.
"But..." he stammered. "It's not my bedtime."

[Pakania]

The ship with the medicine was arriving soon, and that appeared to be the simplest way to get home, and not that much slower than going by air. I went to the area by taxi, and blended in with the tourists until the ship arrived.

I had notified the Captain that I wished to go home on the ship, without giving her too many details, but she could tell things weren't going well. The empty ship was quiet, I helped with the work where I could. I did a lot of laundry, from the smell of the clothing I don't think anyone knew how to use the washing machine. Embarrassing.

Upon arrival, an advisor ran to me screaming "The clowns! Oh! The clowns!"
"This can wait for tomorrow. There are more important things to deal with now."
"But it's under my bed!"
"Get a warm glass of milk and go back to bed." I leave for my office.
"But..." he stammered. "It's not my bedtime."

The Pakanians at the port help offload the merchandise from G C Bakura's ship. Around 40 minutes later, the ship is ready to set sail. The Pakanians wave off the ship as it sets off into the Caribbean Sea.

{That's real, the laundry thing. I was in my dorms back in September and wanted to wash my shower shoes and I nearly burst into angry tears 'cause I had no idea how to do laundry. I thought there was fungus on them, but no, it's water that gave off that colour. Luckily, when I went bac to my house that weekend, the shoes were cleaned.}

[G C Bakura]

(OOC:I'm not sure how to continue this. Do you want to just focus on your other RP for a while, and pick this up later, or would be be helpful to keep this one going in parallel? I haven't read the recent posts.

As for the laundry, I was lucky to get lessons before college, but basic instructions were posted in the dorm's laundry room, and that helped a lot of people. Although one timethere were people attending a cheerleader camp staying in our building, and there was a lot of screaming and splashing coming from the laundry room. )

[Pakania]

{OOC: Agreed. "Do you want to just focus on your other RP for a while, and pick this up later, or would be be helpful to keep this one going in parallel?" 100%.

Well, I'm glad you got lessons. Ah, people always manage to somehow screw up. To be honest, though, I probably would have too. }