NationStates Jolt Archive

Unity Square
Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

“Ready, boys? Heave!” With a massive grunt, twenty able-bodied men in the pay of the city of Ianapalis strained against a large line, slowly but surely levering up a massive Christmas tree. It was bitterly cold - perhaps thirty or thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit in the sun - but there wasn’t a flake of snow to be seen. In fact, the air was so dry that one or two of the work men even were starting to get nose bleeds as they tugged the tree into place. But then, that’s the way things always were on the Great Shield: hot, rainy summers and cold, dry winters.

At last, all the proper clamps were in place and the foreman waved an exhausted hand at his workers. “Right, good job boys! Take ten for yourselves, then!” The men wandered off in the direction of various coffee and tea stands, leaving the foreman to survey their handy work. Unity Square, from the Salvador Monument to the statue of High King Ian I, was the sight of organized chaos, with various workmen running in one direction or another carrying a seemingly random arrangment of decorations. Most were concentrating on setting up a massive stage below High Queen Jessica I’s statue’s feet, with careful care taken so as to obscure neither the Queen nor the tiny children, meant to represent the Dominions, clutching hesitantly to her dress. Directly across the square was St. Patrick’s Cathedral, where the Archbishop of Ianapalis himself would give Christmas Mass. After mass, the crowds would get a brief speech from High King James III - one of the few times the religious and secular leadership of Iansisle did anything together - and then the traditional Iansislean Christmas Gala would begin.

----

The North Ramparts -- Castle Dûn Ádien
Outside Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

There may be turmoil in the halls of parliament; there may be war in Gallaga; there may be riots in Harbor City; there may be a thousand other disasters waiting to befall the Commonwealth, but nothing can stop the Gala, though His Imperial Majesty High King James III as he gazed across Adien Bay at the bright lights of Ianapalis. The wind chill combined with the rapidly dropping night temperatures to rip through his jacket as if it weren’t there. Weathers, Princeton, Quinton, and it seemed everyone else on staff had begged him to come down, many with chilling reminders of his father, but he steadfastly refused.

The Knootoss delegation is due in soon, he mused, amazing even himself with the sheer absurdity of his thought process. No, he thought, what’s absurd is all those people, carrying on with some ... holiday in the face of he world. For a few seconds, he closed his eyes and imagined being over in the now homeward bound work crew. Where do they go? Do they worry about Effitian trouble-making overseas? Do they care how quickly reinforcements could be shipped to Gallaga? Do they worry about the fall of Hiresh Dhawan’s centrist government, and the possible implications for the Commonwealth?

“James?” An extremely familiar voice cut into his inner monologue. He smiled as Christin slid up and tucked under his arm. “Brr.. it’s freezing up here!”

“Well b-below f-freezing by now, I s-should i-imagine,” he tried to reply, realizing for the first time that his teeth were chattering.

“Well, then, mister, I’d like to know just what you’re doing! You have half the castle worried sick about you, and the other half getting the infirmary ready!” Her voice took on a sudden bite. “You need to come in just this second, before you catch cold!”

“C-catch c-cold? A-and miss my s-speech in the G-gala?” he asked, suddenly feeling the biting wind upon his back. “N-never!” James slowly turned back towards the castle, his fiancée ‘reminding’ him about how much everyone cared about him and about how stupidly reckless this whole business was.

----

#2 Jameston Place
Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

From inside the fine glass windows and marble walls of parliament’s home, the roar of the wind seemed a perfect background to a tearful goodbye. Hiresh Dhawan turned from the window to gaze back at his desk. On it stood a half full box, containing every single remainder of his brief tenure as the most powerful man in the Commonwealth. The cleaning staff at Jameston had tried to insist on doing this, but Dhawan wouldn’t hear of it.

With a said sigh, he sifted through the pitiful pile: his diploma, from Royal Standard University; his fine Walmingtonish fountain pen, a gift from the High King when Commonwealth leapt into power; a few stacks of paper; a box of expensive Gallagan cigars; and his desk’s name tag. People looking at his office had always commented on how barren it was, especially compared to the opulence Edward Tarriff had reveled in.

Of course, he remembered quickly, there is one last thing... Quiet as a whisper, the middle drawer on his - well, Mr. D’Carlonia’s - fine shesham desk slid open, and Dhawan reached in to pull out a small frame. In it was a simple, grainy black-and-white photograph, taken in the early days of Iansislean photography, before Toto IV had passed away. It showed a happy (and wealthy) Gallagan family standing outside their manor house. He ran his right thumb gently over the youngest boy, then quickly turned away. The picture was stuffed, face down, in the bottom of the box, and Dhawan hastened from his old office.

Outside, snow started falling gently on Ianapalis for the first time in three years.

-----

The Honeycomb - Castle Dûn Ádien
Outside Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

To: All nations friendly to the Commonwealth
From: HIM High King James III of the House of Callahan

Greetings, honored friends!

Yule-time is upon us once more, it appears! In Iansisle, the holidays are always a time of great cheer and celebration; the one time of the year we set to lay aside our problems and gather together as one nation.

Given the spirit of multi-nationalism I’ve tried to cultivate during my reign, I’d be positively delighted if we could make this the time to come together as a world; to put away the squabbles between states and rejoice in our similarities rather than our differences.

If you do wish to grace my humble country with your prestigious ambassador’s presence, they are cordially invited to a party at Dûn Ádien on the 24th, followed by Christmas mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral and the traditional Gala celebrations in Unity Square. I hope to see many faces, both familiar and new.

In the spirit of the season,

High King James III of Callahan

“Ah, I never sound that campy,” groaned James as he scribbled his name on the bottom of the paper.

“Sure you do, James. I find it one of your more ... appealing qualities,” snickered Christin, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.

“Hmmph. This still makes me sound like a character in some Horatio Alger story. ‘I’d be positively delighted if we could make this the time to come together as a world’ - heh. I don’t really talk like that, do I?”

“Ooh, dangerous question, James. Afraid I’ll have to take a rain check on that one!”

“Your silence speaks volumes,” he teased, kissing her in the Honeycomb’s warm golden glow as the snow fell outside.

[Yes, I know it's rather early, but I don't know how much free time I'll have over the actual holiday. So, come one, come all! Completely open!]

Swallow Bank House, Walmington Street, Great Walmington

"Ah there, you see, Wilson? Christmas cheer all around- you want to get involved in it more!"

Brushing back his suspiciously ample locks, the Deputy PM replied that, "Well, you see I've been rather busy what with y.. what with being sent to Southend and Norbray every other day. There is a war on, after all."

"Yes, well.. neither of us can be spared of course, we're too important to the war effort, you and I.." Mainwaring asserted, waving a copy of the regal Iansislian invite as he rambled. "We shall have to send Cheeseman."

"Do you think that's wise, sir? ..Well it's just that Sir Talfryn doesn't have the best memories of Dun.." "Aden." "..Adien, and with the service at St.Patrick's.. it just feels rather like rubbing salt in the.. well in the wound, don't you think?"

Mainwaring pretended to have immediately made the Cheeseman-shooting-Newrian-Catholic-St.Patrick connections, mumbling something or nothing, and putting on his best contemplative manner.

Wilson's attempt to suggest the Archbishop was shot down by the PM who informed his deputy that Christmas was not the place for religious dilly-dallying, and decided that Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne was the man for the job.

"But.. he's not even part of the governme.."
"This is a social affair, Wilson, and we could do worse than to be represented by a knight of the empire, and a war-hero at that."

Somewhere on the nameless winding hillside roads of rural west Chassire
Finney's Garage- Don't forget your petrol coupons!

Another blast from the antiquated Stockley 1910's horn drew Mr.Finney grudgingly from his slumber and to the apron outside where his ears would be further assaulted.

"You there! Fill-up my automobile with petrolium distilate, and re-galvanize my tires post-haste!" So bellowed the most impatient -and wealthy- man in Walmington on Sea.

An hour later Sir Henry would be back in Chaspot, his weekend in the country successfully endured, only to to receive via telephone word of a fresh holiday ahead..

"Mh, king eh? Send him a bottle of port I will, of course. About time someone paid attention to the man who tamed Waynesia."

Hanging up, Mainwaring of course had allowed Sir Henry to believe that he specifically had been invited, thus ensuring his attendance, but not his behaviour.

(As for my time.. well I have lots of it, but who can say for how much I shall be awake? ;)
Excuse this post- what with all the shooting-wars and extended periods of silence, it's a while since Walmington did any good bumbling, mumbling, or rambling.)

The Empress sighed as she looked voer hte invite. She hadn't left Honshu in over five years, since the begining of her reighn as Empress. It wasn't honorable for other nations to see or house her, as her proper and only home was inher mansion on Honshu, just outside Tokyo. She would change this.

"Kutsumoto, I have decided I will not attent the Taipei Confrence. I have full confidence you will handle the situation well. Instead, I will attend this function in," she looked back at the invitation, "Iansisle."

"But, Empress, if I am in Taipei, how will I be able to protect you in Iansisle?"

"You wont, I will take someone else with me. If you wish to be a true forigen diplomat, you'll need to learn how to survive doing things without me."

"But Empress, as your sworn..."

He was cut off by Ryoko's hand, and paused. She would hear no more of it. "I will take Konoko, she will do a good job in protecting me should I need it. You will go to Taipei. End of discusion."

"Yes, your highness."
-----
The Mitsubushi MU-2 took off towards Tawain. Kutsomot sighed, he still coun't grasp how the Empress would take Konko. She isn't Samurai, shes...of a he couldnt even finish the though. He dozed off to the drone of the twin turboprops as teh MU-2 headed towards Tawian.
----
However, things were different in the Boeing 777 that left moments later. Escorted bthree Ku-47-1200 Hein IIs, it banked towards Iansilse, and settled on its course. tThe empress napped as the plane flew yet the young woman sitting next to her did not. She toyed with the small handgun sitting in a cross draw holster under the shortcut leather jacket.

Konko Kitsumoro had a touch of a secret, and she knew that the Empress knew what it was. She wondered how she had been picked to do this job. She also hoped she had sent the RSVP to this Iansisle, after all, they wouldnt want the king to be suprised.

(just out of character for now, I'm afraid, as I'm a bit pressed for time. Thanks to WoS and Kajiraki for their replies; both are, of course, welcome! I'll get IC replies, invitations, and figuring out how to use a 1940s airport in weather sometime this afternoon/evening.

It should also be noted that, by 'friendly nations,' I simply mean that powers we're at war or in open bickering with isn't too welcome. Other than that, it doesn't have to be anyone Iansisle's ever even interacted with; really, everyone's welcome if they promise to play nice. Special invitations are extended to all New Highlands members, Third World Conference Members, and anyone else who I may have had formal diplomatic relations with and simply forgotten because of the addled state of my brain right now.)

Violeta Bi Bere saw the ornate, gilt-edged envelope in her in-box at once. The Royal Seal, gaudy as always to her eyes, positively leaped off the page.

She held the letter for a few minutes. As people's representative for foreign affairs, she had experienced the tone of Iansislean foreign communcations on more than one occasion. This one was tinged with sadness for her, however. The fall of Hiresh Dhawan was a sad day: she could only contemplate what might come afterwards as the Commonwealth juggled its federal tensions. Lord, she was still reeling from the change of government that had just swept away most of her colleagues in Tanah Burung's collective presidency.

Bi Bere looked out the window for a few minutes, contemplating the freak snowfall that had hit the ciy of Burung-yang-membuat-dunia. Felling wistful for capable leaders just fallen from power. Than a smile crossed her face, and she began to dictate her reply.


Your Imperial Majesty,

What a genuine pleasure it was to receive your invitation to celebrate the Yuletide season. You may rest assured that the thoughts and prayers of the people of Tanah Burung are with you.

We have no embassy in your country, an oversight which i hope i will be able to remedy soon. But i have asked Markus Rumbiak, my ambassador-at-large (and until recently a member of the collective presidency), to represent the people of Tanah Burung at the celebration of this high and holy season.

In the spirit of international amity,
Violeta Bi Bere
for the people and government of the United Provinces of Tanah Burung

OOC Relay from Imitora's player: Hey Iansisle, sorry I couldnt finish up the Civil War post, but, then again, maybe its a good thing. After all with 16 Navy SEALs running around dun Aiden, it oculda gotten ugly, especially if they called for fire support. I just had alota crap come up. And with Lark out, it was kinda lonely being the only post madern, pre future tech nation, :lol:. Kaji here is a freind of mine (I'm dating his sister, lol), so take good care of him...maybe I shoulda told him you were 1940s tech... :wink:

IC:

The 777 and Hein II escorts descended from the sky. The pilot fo the boeing looked at the runway, and nearly paniced. He had been a pilot in the great revolt, but landing a small prop powered Zero fighter on a short runway was very different than a 777. "Huh, Iansisle tower, this is Kajiraki VIP Jet, are we, uh clear to land?"

(This thread its a great idea - Thanks for the invitation!
I'm not sure if i'm going to be able to participate much in it, though, because I will be travelling in some days. But anyway, my ambassador is attending this party or gala.)

The duque Mooo IV read one by one the letters on the pile that always were sent to him on christmas. Most of the letters were greeting cards from friends, relatives and other heads of state.
Suddenly, the duque's eyes rested on a small letter, hidden under a "Got Milk?" greeting card. He took the iansilean letter and read it. *sigh*"Oh, to bad I won't be able to go myself. It's all fault of mom and her stupid wish of spending holydays as a family", of course, the duque was refering to Celeste Spottedcrown, his beloved mother.
"I guess I'll just have to send a representative"

Some hours later, the duque summoned most of his ministers and ambassadors and asked them who wanted to go to the Iansislean Christmas Party. All of them wanted to go. Finally, after a strange competition to decide, Personal Representative Civic Starcow won.


Honorable Ianislean Majesty,

It is truly a pleasure to receive this great invitation. I won't be able to attend, but my young and enthusiastic personal representative, Civic Starcow, will attend on my behalf.
Best wishes and merry christmas,

The Christmas-loving and Happy Duque Mooo IV


Civic Starcow, who had nothing better to do in her holydays, entered her car, a BMW Minicooper, and drove all the way torwards Iansisle, under the terrible heat of the Hell Bovinian summer. (As HB is located on the southern hemisphere, we have summer at December)

Aeroporto Presidenziale
Outside Sicilia, Agrigento
__________________________

The Airbus A320 business jet hurried down the runway, marking its international flight. The pilot was very happy about the government's purchase of the single aisle medium range airliner. It wasn't too often that he flew planes younger than him. His co-pilot probably thought the same as he pressed down on the controls and the plane gained altitude and moved forward to join with its escort for the long haul to Iansisle.

The 6 Drago X's flanked the plane, 3 on each side. Six more were slightly further ahead, cautiously flying about well above Mach 2. With the trouble in the Bosphorus they weren't about to take any chances.

Far from the cockpit, and even farther from the jet fighters surrounding the plane, sat Roberto DiPartenza, gently snoozing in his reclined chair. The plane was relatively empty. A few other passengers, SIP (Semi-Important Persons) catching a ride, a couple of young stewardesses and his bodyguard, who sat a few seats away.

His dreams, like most as of late, were not very peaceful. Images of the Second Islandian Conflict haunted him like a subtle ghost, or rather, a mist. They were not unlike a certain intangible cloud that he always carried with him, and forever burdened his spirit with a great weight. He was not always like this, and he often looked back upon those years when he could get a good night's sleep. Before his wife died, before his son went away to war, those were the happiest days of his life and he cherished them. Those memories were somehow keeping him going, and even now, as he approached old age, they gave him the will to carry on.

ooc: Iansisle, did you have to ask? Just send me the link and I'll be here. :D

#2 Jameston Place
Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

The smooth, natural polish of the desk was like sheer heaven under Alfredo D’Carlonia’s hand. The marvelous piece of furniture had been presented as a gift from the East Gallaga Company (D’Carlonia had always wondered how that fit Dhawan) back at the Recharter, and was a superb example of the sub-continent’s exquisite workmanship. He settled down in the magnificently appointed chair, closing his eyes briefly in triumph.

Since its inception, the Tharian Secessionist Party had struggled along, always ‘that other party.’’ Commonwealth or Free Trade had ruled for as long as most could remember; since the collapse of the Imperialist government in Queen Jessica’s day, at least. For all those years, Tharia had known something was wrong with its situation: always, the government in Ianapalis considered the Empire and the northern dominions first and foremost. Then, the Tharians were restless, but unsure of how to go about achieving their means.

They had seen the Dianatranian revolt - the first one - and the bloody efficiency with which the Iansisleans put it down. No, Tharia had decided, open revolution wasn’t the way to go about things. They’d have to destroy their chains of bondage from the inside. And the only way to do that was from the very halls of Jameston Place itself.

No one had taken it seriously when Nicomedo Sabino, previously an unknown peasant from a tiny fishing village on the western coast, had declared his intention to run as a member of a “Tharian Secessionist Party” - which then didn’t exist - for one of Thesia’s MP slot, no one took him seriously. But Sabino surprised every pundit by capturing the seventh slot, well ahead of several more favored Commonwealth and Free Trade candidates. Within thirty years, Sabino had built up a party machine, spreading from Thesia to every nook and corner of Tharia, from Sentry Island to Carlonia.

Then Sabino had been killed. Assassinated by his own people for daring to help them. It was enough to make D’Carlonia want to throw up. That fool, the Archduke of Sentry Island (or, as he has been known since his title was stripped, Mr. D’Analia) had set back the cause of Tharian independence immeasurably by trying to get himself implanted on the throne at Dûn Ádien. Sentry Island, which contained roughly half of Tharia’s population, thirty per cent of its railroad mileage, eighty per cent of its heavy industry, and the rights to the valuable trade routes through the Straits, had been annexed outright by the Empire. Of course, D’Carlonia made himself admit, Sentry Island was really not Iansislean or Tharian - nearly its entire population were the native Sentrians, who had long ago ruled over both Tharia and the Shield. They were close enough in heritage to the Tharians to make any outsider consider them one and the same, but there were certain customs differences, certain habits that kept them apart.

“Prime Minister?” The voice of the party’s whip snapped him back to the present with a jolt. “Er, sorry to interrupt you sir, but parliament’s due to be voting on the new ministers soon, and I thought it best you had your list drawn up first.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” D’Carlonia sat back and tapped together a list of names; the most likely candidates to replace Dhawan’s cabinet.

[To all those of you who want a highly placed mole in the Iansislean government, now’s your chance! If you have someone relatively high in the Liberal Coalition, mention him here! A name and brief backstory (of how s/he came to be in the commonwealth, why they’re so high up, and so forth) would be appreciated! Also remember they don’t even have to be one of your nationals - most any Iansisleans loyalty can be bought for a few coins!]

------


Stony Canyon
North of Oasis, Dianatran, the Commonwealth

“You know, this is where they got ol’ Joe and his platoon back at the start of the war,” commented Corporal Gray Henderson, glancing nervously about the canyon.

“What’s that, Henderson?” asked his lieutenant, glancing back. Other than their voices, the only sound in the canyon was the soft clop of their horses’ shoes.

“Oh, you know, lieutenant. Joe Baxter. The hollywacks ambushed him here, and killed his command to a man. That’s why some of the nomads here parts have M74Bs.”

“Oh, right. Baxter.” The name was as familiar to young Lieutenant Gordon as it was to any man in the King’s I Lancers. However, he was fresh out of the Troobodia Martial Academy, and hadn’t ever heard anyone refer to him so informally. It was always ‘Lieutenant Baxter, the martyr’ or ‘Lieutenant Baxter, the tactical lesson.’ Gordon knew that many of the men under his command had fought in the Second Civil War, some even at Augsburg or Oasis, and some had even known Joe Baxter. “Well, we’ll just have to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to us, eh? Keep a sharp eye out!”

“Lieutenant, I thought I saw something move over there!” came Private Bryce’s cry. The only man in the group younger than Gordon himself, Bryce somehow managed to look out-of-place and gangly in the typically dashing uniform of the First Lancers. His horse whinnied under him as he pointed, perhaps because of the sudden motion or perhaps because Bryce only had the beast half under control.

All along the line of men, weapons were drawn and directed after Bryce’s trembling finger. A moment later, the private realized he should probably be doing something as well. He hastily worked the bolt on his M74B, before pointing in a wild manner upwards.

The entire procession stayed like that for thirty seconds, looking at precisely nothing. At last, the lieutenant uncocked his revolver, glancing at Bryce with a patronizing look. “Thank you, private. I appreciate your vigilence, but let’s try and have as few false alarms between here and the end of the patrol, shall we?”

The rest of the platoon in earshot chuckled, and Private Bryce glowed a bright red. “I coulda sworn I saw someone,” he muttered under his breath.

“Right. We’re overdue in Oasis as it is. Let’s ride, Lancers.”

------

Up the hill, a dark-faced Dianatranian watched them ride off while gripping his obsolete M65J rifle. It wasn’t in standard Iansislean service anymore because of the immense cloud of black power smoke it was wont to let out, but the nomad didn’t really care about that.

That Lancers platoon had been tempting targets, but the man knew better that to press his luck. He only had twenty-seven bullets, and there had been thirty-one Iansisleans. Still, now he knew that they had gone back to using the Stony Canyon shortcut; after all, he hadn’t seen a patrol here since that last one they surprised.

The man smiled thinly. He had murdered relatives to avenge.

---------

The Honeycomb -- Castle Dûn Ádien
Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

“Plenty of responses, your majesty, plenty of responses!” exclaimed Quinton, bringing in several of the more prominent envelopes. “I dare to think that this Gala will be an absolute smash!”

“That’s fantastic, Quinton!” replied James, perhaps in a bit too sarcastic a manner, as it earned him a light punch in the stomach. “Oof! I said it was fantastic, Christin!”

“And I, of course, have no reason whatsoever to doubt your sincerity,” she teased.

“Well, it is fantastic, your grace,” said Quinton, perhaps a little confused by the entire display. “I’ve a response from Hell Bovines --”

“Oh, will the Duque be able to make it?” asked James, arching an eyebrow.

“No, I’m afraid not. Some sort of family affair it would seem.”

“Now that must be an interesting experiance. I wonder what his parents think about Duchess Fussyball -- oof!”

“And here’s one from Tanah Burung - they’re sending a Mr. Markus Rumbiak.”

“Rumbiak, Rumbiak,” mused James, “I think I remember him - biggish fellow, strange jacket, right?”

“I don’t know why you expect me to remember, majesty; I wasn’t at the Freedom Five conference. At any rate, here’s one all the way from Great Walmington! Prime Minister Mainwaring regrets that he is not able to attend, but that Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne--”

“Wayne, of Waynesia fame? I’m honored; it’s not often one gets to celebrate the holidays with a living legend!” This time, James’ admiration was sincere, but then again, he had never actually met Sir Henry.

“You see me every day!” protested Christin in mock indignation. Quinton cleared his throat and continued.

“Lastly, there’s one from a country I’ve never heard of - ‘Kaj...Kag...’ Well, I’m certain I’m slaughtering the pronounciation, but they seem quite sincere. They’re sending their Empress herself!”

“Quite the honor,” nodded James, perhaps still looking forward more to meeting Sir Henry. “I suppose I should start writing confirmations...”

“The Ministry of Foreign Affairs already took care of it, your majesty,” said Quinton quickly as James made to rise. The monarch’s face took a bit a sour look, but it quickly passed.

“Er, good. I suppose I’ll get on signing my name and stamping them, then.”

----

Shadoran International Aeroflyer Dock
Outside Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

“It’s all this damn snow, sir, that’s why we didn’t see them coming in,” complained a young aero-traffic controller

“Do we have a runway clear, Ernest?”

“The longest one, sir, but not much else. We’re working our plows to the ground and going through most of our salt just to keep that one open.”

“Well, at least its something. Vector them in, won’t you? I’ll have their reception prepared for as soon as they land.”

[ooc: H.B.: Don’t worry about it ;) I understand the holidays are a busy time, and we’re honored to have you along, even if it’s just for a bit.

WoS: Heh, I think Walmingtonish rambling may be my single favorite aspect of NationStates

Kaji: Welcome aboard! Any friend of Imitora’s is a friend of mine. If it’s not too much of a hassle, could you tell him we can finish up the Civil War whenever he has time, or not if that’s ok (to be honest, I’m glad my government’s not in exile in Agrigento anymore ;)). Oh, and if it’s ok if I use Christin (heh, I know I already have been, but better late than never, eh?)

Ag: Man, that was one of the best posts I’ve seen in quite some time! I don’t know what it was in particular, but there was something particularly beautiful about it, especially that last part about Roberto’s family. Really good writing!

[remembers he had some sort of point to make] Er, right! I’m afraid I don’t have an IC reply for you just yet (my brain’s kinda fried from writing this thing (which I haven’t been able to proofread yet - sorry about any mistakes, everyone) and trying to study for my upcoming Political Science final, but I’ll try and have you one very soon!

Oh, and I guess I didn’t really (ask you to come that is ;)), but erm, the voices in my head told me to?

Oh, it may seem a rather random inclusion, but here’s the latest and greatest map of the Commonwealth (political only - most of that green land is very steep and mountainous)

http://img.villagephotos.com/p/2003-9/390074/map-political.jpg

And, of course, lovely Castle Dun Adien:

http://img.villagephotos.com/p/2003-9/390074/dunadien.jpg

ooc: thanks man :D . That really means a lot coming from you. 8)

- Its okay, I really didn't give you much to respond to anyway.
ic:

"Shadoran International, this AAF flight VIP-903. We have diplomatic cargo, and request permission to land. I repeat this AAF flight VIP-903 with diplomatic cargo. We request permission to land. Waiting for your response. Over", said the pilot over the radio, hoping the Iansisle receivers were listening to his frequency.

The plane eased into a holding pattern, while its escorts cautiously pealed off. They continued on an exit vector, leading them outside Iansisle airspace and putting them on a direct path to rendezvous with a tanker for much needed refueling.

James slowly turned back towards the castle, his fiancée ‘reminding’ him about how much everyone cared about him and about how stupidly reckless this whole business was.

(Reckless?? Hey now, that's what Jeff's around for ;) )


To: All nations friendly to the Commonwealth
From: HIM High King James III of the House of Callahan

Greetings, honored friends!

Yule-time is upon us once more, it appears! In Iansisle, the holidays are always a time of great cheer and celebration; the one time of the year we set to lay aside our problems and gather together as one nation.

Given the spirit of multi-nationalism I’ve tried to cultivate during my reign, I’d be positively delighted if we could make this the time to come together as a world; to put away the squabbles between states and rejoice in our similarities rather than our differences.

If you do wish to grace my humble country with your prestigious ambassador’s presence, they are cordially invited to a party at Dûn Ádien on the 24th, followed by Christmas mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral and the traditional Gala celebrations in Unity Square. I hope to see many faces, both familiar and new.

In the spirit of the season,

High King James III of Callahan

Presidential Palace, Golden Agate, Larkinia

Takeo Katana read the letter twice before formulating a plan. He had just read about former P.M. Dhawan and was in the middle of sending him a box of cigars and a few bottles of scotch when he got it.

"Hmmmm, a party in Iansisle. How nice. I think we should attend," Takeo said to Javin. "Well.... maybe not you!"

"You'd love it in Iansisle. It's all cold and snowy, not much in the way of electricity or modern convieniences. It's more like a scene from A Christmas Carol than any other Christmas movie," Javin winked. "And why not let me go?"

"Why not??? Do I need to remind you of the furor you caused in Tanah Burung?? Jesus, I'm still working our way out of what happened there! I think the only way to make amends will be to get voted out of office just so you don't have an official position anymore!" Takeo replied.

"Well, you know," Javin started, "We do have an official ambassador there. Why not send him? I mean, if we can tear him away from whatever superheroic actions he's doing to save some poor person."

"That's not a bad idea," Takeo nodded sagely, "besides, I'll need someone to keep an eye on you and make sure you're not causing another international incident."

"Well that's great," Javin chuckled, "We're off to the land of Jolly old England. You can be Scrooge and I'll be Tiny Tim!"

Takeo picked up the phone and called in his secretary. A young Asian woman slinked into the office.

"We need to prepare the jet to fly to Iansisle, to attend a party," Takeo said.

"Both... of you?" she asked looking at Javin in shock.

"Yes, I've been forgiven!" Javin grinned and winked before picking up a walking stick and using it like a crutch, "And God Bless Us, every one!"

Takeo quickly punched out a response to King James as he and Javin each packed for the trip.


Dear King James,

I would like to thank you for your gracious invitation. I would like to accept on behalf of myself, my special envoy Javin Katana and Ambassador Williams and his family. We are en route to Dun Adien and will meet with you and the Ambassador soon.

Warmest regards,
Takeo Katana,
President, Larkinia.

Van Der Meere Airfield

Larkinia One warmed up on the tarmac as Takeo and Javin walked out of a helicopter that touched down at the secured base. The two men were met by a group of Larkinia's "Golden Eagles" security team at the front of the plane.

"Quickly Mr. President," one of the men in the gray suits said, "We've got little time to waste and an even smaller amount of time for you to be in the open."

Takeo nodded as he and Javin quickly walked up the steps onto the waiting Airbus, followed by the strike team.

The jet taxied to the end of the runway, was given clearance and quickly thundered down the strip of asphault and lept into the air.

On the plane, Takeo and Javin sat in the private office on the upper deck, sipping some coffee and talking.

"Now Javin," Takeo started, "From what you've told me, we have to discuss matters with the Admiral delicately, so we don't set off his father or King James..."

Williams Residence
Outskirts of Ianapalis

Ambassador Jeff Williams (insert rest of outrageous title here) was sitting at his desk, reading the secured email from President Katana when two little bundles wobbled into the office.

"Well where did you two come from?" He asked with a smile as he picked up his twin son and daughter.

Marcus and Julie smiled at their father as he picked them up. "Dada, snow!" Marcus said as he pointed a little finger out the window.

Jeff looked over and saw the first flakes coming down, "So there is, so there is," he nodded. "Let's go see how mommy's doing!"

He carried the twins into the bedroom where his wife Katherine was sitting in a rocking chair reading a book. "Hey you!" she smiled at Jeff as she slowly stood up to kiss him, their third child currently on the way was showing quite a bit.

"Looks like these two want to go play in the snow," Jeff said with a mischevious smile, "But not today. Looks like we have an invite to a Christmas party at Dun Adien, I've received 'official word', I have to go as part of my duties," he winked.

"Like you need any reason to go visit James anyway," Katherine said as she stuck her tongue out at him. "You're 'official duties', gee it's been... why... days since you've been shot at or someone's tried to either assassinate you or get you to run for political office, which around here is the same thing!"

Jeff laughed, "Yeah, true enough. You get some rest, I'll go call James and tell him to expect us for his little party."

James, of course, couldn’t have been happier to hear that Jeff, Roberto and the Katana brothers would be attending the party.

“This’ll go a long way towards making me actually enjoy the Gala,” were his exact words.

“Oh, stop it,” giggled Christin, glancing up from her book. She was laying against him in the Honeycomb, which was something considered quite risqué by the majority of Imperial high society. “Don’t even try to act like a Grinch, James Callahan, because I can see through you!”

“And I try so very hard to be opaque,” he laughed. “I hope Jeff doesn’t try anything stupid on Dead Man’s turn in this weather.”

“James, that’s like saying you hope Jeff’s not Jeff.”

“Oh, right.”

---

Shadoran International Aeroflyer Dock
North of Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

It wasn’t so much that there was a blizzard on the Southern Shield as it was the entire region was hopelessly unprepared for snowfall of any quantity. Already, because of the advent of seven major auto-mobile accidents in less than half an hour, the Imperial government had taken the precaution of issuing a warning to all motorists, recommending that everyone stay indoors for the duration. As an added precaution, all of Empire Street, from Jameston Place to Shadoran International had been shutdown to all civilian traffic. Ianapalans, or at least those who traveled on Empire Street with any regularity, were not used to being told where they could and could not go, especially not by the government!

The Ianapalis Police Department officers blockading every cross road were adamant, however: until all delegates were seen safely to the docks at Jameston Place, there were to be no interlopers in their way!

In the meantime, the Shadoran International ground crew was starting to get a better handle on their field, especially now that the actual snowfall had been reduced to a trickle. They had seven of Shadoran’s eleven longest runways open, with crews working nearly around the clock between arrivals to keep those working.

As foreign aircraft after foreign aircraft arrived - most of them jets, noted the ground crew with smiles - they were directed to hangers, often down paths cleared directly in front of the arrivals, where the arriving dignitaries were greeted with as much pomp and circumstance as could be mustered. They were then ushered into transport and whisked down Empire Street at safe speeds to Jameston Place, where hot cocoa was served on the brief, fortunately enclosed voyage to Ian’s Island and Dun Adien.

“We really need some of those belly-thopters,” was the considered opinion of mariner Jack Newman as he maneuvered his tiny transport into the small island’s bay.

All in all, it was a fairly smooth operation considering the conspiracy of the elements against it. Once the dignitaries were at Dun Adien, they were met by Quinton’s (perhaps familiar) face.

“Good evening, [ladies] and gentlemen! Welcome to Dun Adien! You’re just in time - may I take your coats and show you to the Grand Hall?”

OOC: Hope you don't mind the liberties that I take here Lark...

Dr. Niven stumbled out of the guest room at Jeff's house that he had all but moved into. He tripped over a small toy in the hallway as his cell phone began to ring.

"Damnit, I mean hello."
"Really, yes of course I will attend, send my RSVP along."

He hung up his phone as he entered the main sitting room "So are we going to the party ?"

OOC: Hell I don't mind! :) It's perfect!

IC: "Yes, it'll be a great time!" Jeff said as he finished tying the black tie on the tux and smiled at Dr. Niven.

Katherine smiled at Jeff, "Wow, almost presentable," she said kissing his cheek. She turned to Dr. Niven and whispered, "is there any way we can get this one out of me faster? He's kicking like a soccer player."

Jeff chuckled as he picked up the twins and opened the door for Katherine and Dr. Niven, "Our ride awaits," he smiled.

"No offense sweetheart," Katherine said, "But can we take dad's transport instead? My stomach can't take another shot a Dead Man's Curve right now..."

-----------

Javin and Takeo smiled at Quinton as they walked into the castle.

"Yes, of course," Takeo said absentmindedly as he looked around the castle.

Javin smiled at Quinton and handed his coat to him. "It's nice to be back," he said as he kept an eye on Takeo. "Now where is that bar..."

Takeo snapped back to reality, "God not now Javin."

--snip--

(ooc: *slaps self on forehead* Aw, carp! I'm so sorry, Celeborne! er, I sent out invitations to this thing via telegram, but I just realized I forgot to invite one of the most important people! I think it's because I've not yet added you to my dossier (something I'm doing right now!). Anyhow, I'm really sorry!)

ic: James sends Dr. Niven a bottle of fine wine to make up for being a dunderhead.

laughing and adjusting his cuff links Niven turns to Kate "Sorry, dear, but they have to bake for the required amount of time or they come out soft headed. I am afraid that considering his paternity that is a risk you cannot take." He knocks Jeff on the head and keeps laughing.

"My transport is ready" Taking Ketherine's arm "shall we ?"

--snip--

(ooc: *slaps self on forehead* Aw, carp! I'm so sorry, Celeborne! er, I sent out invitations to this thing via telegram, but I just realized I forgot to invite one of the most important people! I think it's because I've not yet added you to my dossier (something I'm doing right now!). Anyhow, I'm really sorry!)

ic: James sends Dr. Niven a bottle of fine wine to make up for being a dunderhead.

OOC: You sent me one, I have just had this little war going on and havent had a chance to respond.

Jeff laughed, "Awwww but dad, if I'm so hard-headed, then won't he come out ok?"

Katherine chuckled and walked out with Dr. Niven, "Yes, let's go!" she smiled.

He walked out to the transport with Katherine and Dr. Niven and sat down after strapping the twins into their seats. "We ought to just build a wing onto the nusery as often as we bring them to visit," he said.

Niven smiles at Jeff's suggestion "We could make that happen..." He then picks up a waiting copy of the Wombat News and starts laughing until he cries.."Roania and Vrak....Dear Gods"

OOC: You sent me one, I have just had this little war going on and havent had a chance to respond.

(ooc: *slaps self on forehead again* D'oh! Well, in that case, I'm sorry to hear about your war; I don't suppose there's anything Iansisle could do to help.

Y'know, as soon as I posted that, I was like: "Did I send Celeborne a telegram? I think I might have..."

er, right!)

Quinton took the jackets over to another servant, who then presumably scurried off to deposit them in a closet somewhere. “If you’ll follow me, sirs?”

At the door of the Grand Hall, he instructed the herald to announce ‘President Takeo Katana of Larkinia’ and ‘Javin Katana of Larkinia,’ but James appeared, Christin at his side, before anything could come of it.

“Mr. President; Javin,” he smiled, bowing briefly. “You both remember Duchess Chaffin, I trust? Welcome to my humble abode. I hope you don’t mind too much my not standing on ceremony, but you’re the first guests to arrive...”

“I told you, James!” exclaimed Christin, elbowing him gently in the ribs midway through his practiced recital.

“Told me?”

“You do talk like that letter. And I think it’s cute!”

“Hey now!” he protested with a half-grin. “I just have to work with what MacIntyre gives me. Besides, dear, we have guests!”

Flying west via several Canadian airfields the twin engined Acorn was unlikely to run into Axis forces, but Sir Henry was fairly overt on the matter of his expected fighter escort. This was summarily laid-on in the form of a Gloster Gladiator that no one was willing to fly into action.

"I thought I was to have an escort." Wayne said as he climbed the few steps to his little aircraft's passenger cabin.
"You do, sir." Replied his pilot, indicating with a nod.

Sir Henry's briefly encouraged face dropped as he regarded the old biplane he had recently been scoffing at as "nothing compared to the modern low-wing monoplanes such as the sort they have escort VIPs these days!"

Once in the air the two aircraft didn't exactly make record time, keeping well below two hundred miles per hour. Wayne occupied himself with an article in The Standard about the latest pair of mid-sized ships lost in the Atlantic, and another on the decline in good original bowler hat design since the war started.

Just as soon as the Canadian coastline came into view the Gladiator peeled off and headed for home, leaving Wayne a few hours from the Pacific, and Iansisle.

"I hope their eastern neighbours aren't in confrontational mood." The knight claimed, privately imagining the scene when his plane comes down in nomad lands. The great tamer of Waynesia is forced to trek out through miles of hostile backwater, evading savages as he goes!

Sir Henry smiled approvingly, leading to raised eyebrows amongst his inconsiquential travelling companions.

(ooc:Damn NS threads.. there's none active for ages, and then two come along..and.. two more..and.. you miss the bus.. or.. I forget where I was going with that.
Argh! Post, damn it! Once!)

"What?? Guests?? Where??" Javin asked looking around and winking at Takeo, who smacked Javin's arm.

"Behave! I swear I can't take you anywhere. Your Majesty it's a pleasure" Takeo said bowing to James.

"It could always be worse Duchess," Javin said, "He could talk like George Clinton singing 'Atomic Dog' again."

----------

(What? what war? where???)

Jeff nodded at Dr. Niven, "What's scary is I know you're not kidding about that."

He read the back of the paper as Dr. Niven read. "Roania? Hmmmmm, never struck me as swinging that way. Maybe too much time with all those Inquisitors..."

"Ah yes, well with the way the holy mother church is going these days..." He let it drop and picked up one of the little ones " Well hello there. Are you ready for a party ? Why don't you tell grandpa what you want for christmas while we are on our way."

OOC: I have gone and gotten myself involved in a fairly large conflict between Ferrussia and Fyreheart. There is another ANH member involved as well. Agrigento. Thankfully we have ended up on the same side. Looks like it may turn out to be fun.

(ooc:Ahh, gala, you fool! That makes much more sense than Galla! Damn, I was confusing myself there! Everything is now bathed in an entirely different light.. Buuut I should go. There's kettles to be brewed and ales to be bought..)


"..harmonic dogs, house dogs, stree.." The aide coughed himself to silence on noticing the frown being directed at him from Sir Henry's direction.

James chuckled softly at Javin's joke, then waved the pair in. "Please, Mr. President, it's quite all right. I try not to stand too much on ceremony here, and there's certainly always room for a few good jokes."

"If you're still looking for the bar, Javin, there's a fully stocked one over there." James nodded near the huge, splendidly decorated tree - which, incidently, stood over a large pile of presents wrapped in the blue and green of House Callahan - where a portly Shieldian with a bushy mustache stood cleaning a glass and looking disinterested.

EDIT: I wouldn't worry too much, WoS - I'm getting ready to burn-out time myself, unfortunatly. Can't wait until Sir Henry arrives...I loved his performance in the Diamond thread.

Marcus smiled at Dr. Niven.

"Oh lord," Katherine said. "Be careful or the next thing you know you'll be buying him a sub and Julie a diamond necklace."

OC: OK, you know you can give us a buzz if you need to

Niven turns and without so much as a smile says "Do you think they would like a sub and a diamond necklace ?"



OOC: No worrys, It is a closed Rp at the moment, but if I need you I will call.

James chuckled softly at Javin's joke, then waved the pair in. "Please, Mr. President, it's quite all right. I try not to stand too much on ceremony here, and there's certainly always room for a few good jokes."

"If you're still looking for the bar, Javin, there's a fully stocked one over there." James nodded near the huge, splendidly decorated tree - which, incidently, stood over a large pile of presents wrapped in the blue and green of House Callahan - where a portly Shieldian with a bushy mustache stood cleaning a glass and looking disinterested.

EDIT: I wouldn't worry too much, WoS - I'm getting ready to burn-out time myself, unfortunatly. Can't wait until Sir Henry arrives...I loved his performance in the Diamond thread.

Javin grinned as he looked at the bar, "Maybe in a little bit, don't want to be making too much of a spectacle of myself."

"That's the truth," Takeo said. "all I need is you getting everyone upset at some asinine statement like in Tanah Burung."

Niven turns and without so much as a smile says "Do you think they would like a sub and a diamond necklace ?"



OOC: No worrys, It is a closed Rp at the moment, but if I need you I will call.

Katherine's jaw dropped and she quickly recovered. "I... er... don't know. They might not appreciate it as much as they would a new sandbox right now."

Marcus and Julie's eyes lit up at the mention of a new sandbox. "yea!!! New box!!"

OOC: Gotcha, just fire up the Bat Sign and we'll be there (now that I've thrown in the towel with finals ;) )

"A sandbox, eh ?" His eyes look dreamy for a moment " I do own a small island that is mostly sand...." He then bursts out laughing.

James coughed slightly, not really wanting to tread on what was obviously an old argument. On one hand, he wasn't too fond of Javin, but on the other it was a party. Diplomatically, he decided to try and change the subject all together.

"Erm, speaking of Tanah Burung, I hear that Markus Rumbiak will be in attendence. From what little I remember, he's quite the character."

"Smooth, James," Christin whispered in his ear. He couldn't help but let a little smile crack, hoping it would be taken as part of the Rumbiak comment.

EDIT: As far as the bat sign works, it goes for myself as well! I don't suppose we'd be much practical help, but we could always...ah...shake our fists at them or something.

ReEDIT: I'm sorry to hear about the finals, Lark...

(Not too fond of Javin? He seems to be getting that a lot...;) )

"Rumbiak??" Javin and Takeo asked at the same time.

"Yes, Marcus is quite the character," Takeo recovered as Javin excused himself and went to order a scotch.

"So, how long are you two going to continue scandalizing Iansislian society." Takeo continued with a little wink.

----------

"A whole Island?" Katherine asked, "No, swear, all they need is a little play area where they can stay warm!"

OOC: No worries Iansisle, the worst they can do at this point is fail me, and I can always make it up.

The Empress looked around the room, admiring its build. She smiled as she declined the offer of several servants to take her coat, as it was part of the traditional war. She wore a long flowing kimona, made of silk, decorated with lilies and tigers, and an over kimona, which was a bit heavier, made of a glossy black cloth. On her hip, she wore only a katana. He hair was done up in hte traditional way, and she walked with the stifness of a board. She bowed as she enetered the main room.

Konoko, however, carried a duffle bag with her traditional clothing in it. She wore a pair of tight fiting jeans, and a black long sleaved thsirt that hugged her suprisingly (for an asian woman) large chest. It wasnt that big, biut bigger than the average. She wore a cross-the-shoulder holster, and inthat was a 10mm pistol. "Ladies and gentlemen, Empress Ryoko Kajiraki," she anounced, in accented but perfect English.

(OOC: the reason I didn't brought the duque here is that I noticed that my RP is too centered in his character, and I want to develop other characters as well....
Anyway, thanks for your understanding, Iansisle. I love your threads!)


Civic Starcow, the duque's personal representative, arrived at the beautiful castle in her private car, a BMW Minicooper.
She was a brown-furred female bovine, and one of the youngest and most rebellious government officials. She was also one of the most critisized, mainly because she was regarded as a maverick, always wanting to live ''at the edge'', but another reason that caused the critisism was the fact that she had many personal cars, all of them quite expensive and of doubtful origins.
Despite of the critisism, benevolent Mooo IV regarded her as very loyal and good-natured, although a bit confused about life.

As she got out of her car, modified to be hydrogen-powered, she glanced at the snow with a strange look on her face.
"WOW! White sand! How weird.", she exclaimed, as she had never seen snow in HB's tropical climate.
She pulled off her driving leather gloves (another thing for which she was critisized: "How a Hell Bovine can be so unsensitive to wear leather!") and smiled to the iansislean representative that was there to meet her.
"It's an honour to be here, at your beautiful white-sand covered castle.
I'm Civic Starcow, Mooo IV's personal representative and this is a gift from him"
She handed him a bottle of tequila, which extrangely was half-empty, although the duque had given it to Civic completely full....

Inevitably, Markus Rumbiak arrived by blimp. The "Flying Emu" was freshly painted in the colours of the Tanah Burung flag for the occasion, with the word "Freedom" emblazoned across it. Blaring the new pop hit "Yule be sorry if You Mas with me, Carol!" by renowned chanteuse Bere Imbiber, the Emu approached Commonwealth airspace.

It was not the sort of entrance he'd been told to make. "Please, Markus, play it quietly," Bi Bere had told him. "No shouting. No picking fights with the younger brothers of the other dignitaries. No calling Iansisle a Paradise for the Oppressor. Try to keep it ... subtle."

"Subtle, my fat ass," Rumbiak said as he fondled his war medals and turned up the volume.

Still, he seemed older somehow, his hair whiter than before, his shoulders more bowed. He pulled on his bird-of-paradise feather head dress and prepared for arrival.

ooc: Sorry, I just breezed through the first page. Did my plane land yet?

Sir Henry's private aircraft presented one of the less impressive profiles as it rattled through the Iansislian sky. The owner had attempted to have the O/TMkI Acorn upgraded -it was well known that the airforce utility transport was not built to the nexus of its airframe's potential, nor that of Walmingtonian industry. He had been thwarted by the pressures of war with the Axis, which denied him the desired 890hp engines.

Instead the aircraft's interior was lavishly decked out so far as the limited cabin space would allow. Trophies of Wayne's glory days -an impi short assegai, a few animal horns from Waynesia, the puck with which Walmington Red Bears scored their first international goal.. Well, not many of the items technically belonged to Wayne, but Chassire House, half of southern Africa, and the largest fortune in the Walmingtonian empire certainly did, so why not a few trinkets?

As much as Sir Henry might want to show off his aircraft, he was afraid to offer the chance, as his guests might expect a ride, and the flight characteristics would surely show him up.

Finally Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne descended safely and on target, quietly lamenting the passing of an imagined chance to lay waste another savage horde.

Ah well, time enough for smoke and liquor, he supposed.

[H.B.: :oops: Thanks, that means a lot to me!

Ag: Yeah, I kinda RPed a generic landing for everyone, warping them to the point where Quinton is getting ready to take their coats and announce them.

Anyone from a truly snowy country probably won’t be that impressed with the wimpy half-foot to a foot of snow Ianapalis is getting, but for the normally snow-free Shield, it’s quite a shock.]

“Hopefully, for quite some time,” smiled James giving Christin a small squeeze around the waist.

“Ooph! I swear, if this constitutes a scandle, then I just don’t know where new Iansisleans come from. Of course, I’m sure it wouldn’t be quite so scandalous if one of us would fix a permanent date for the wedding,” she replied, bumping James back with her hip.

“Well, I...” started James, before the announcement of Empress Ryoko Kajiraki distracted him. “Excuse me, Mr. President, I’m afraid duty calls.” He crossed the still relatively empty hall, bowing to the Empress. “Welcome to my humble home, your highness. I’m High King James, and this the my fianceé, the Duchess of Chaffin. Please, come in and make yourself at home.”

The only weapon James carried was the large, emerald handled broad-sword he wore upon his back, which had been handed down in a direct line since being forged for the first High King of the Empire, Ian I.

Off in the corner, Iansisle’s traditional string quartet decided that enough people had arrived, and launched itself into Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto #3.

---

Back at the front gate, Quinton greeted Civic Starcow. “Welcome,” he started, about to add a ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ before realizing that he had no idea how to tell a male Hell Bovinian from a female one. He decided to skip that entire part, “er, to Dûn Ádien. My name is Quinton, and I am His Majesty’s personal butler and assistant. May I take your coat?”

The bottle of tequila was recieved by another staff member, who added it, somewhat hesitantly, to the stack of presents under the Grand Hall’s tree. Civic was then escorted down a short hallway towards the bright lights and music of the Grand Hall.

----

The first reaction of most of the Shadoran International staff to the arrival of a blimp was to assume that the Hun had at last carried through with a zepplin attack across several oceans and start to panic. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately, as it underscored the woeful unpreparedness of Iansislean defenses), before search lights or any sort of anti-air artillery could be brought to bear, someone pointed out that the Tanah Burungian delegation was expected to arrive by blimp, and that the arriving airship wasn’t even a dirigible. The debate hovered for a couple minutes, as to Iansislean sensitivities the music may well be considered a weapon of mass destruction, but Rumbiak was eventually landed and greeted as befitted a friend of the Empire.

He may find the average Iansislean on the Imperial paycheck quite unwilling to discuss matters involving the nation’s massive working class. Any questions in that direction, especially those concerning the sprawling eastern ‘half’ of Ianapalis, with its crumbling tenements and high stacks spewing coal smoke, were redirected gently. “I’m sure they’re getting on just fine,” a chauffeur might say, “what with that new coal deposit being found up in Noropia. I’m from Noropia myself - beautiful country. This one time, my uncle...” and so forth.

"Subtle, my fat ass," Rumbiak said as he fondled his war medals and turned up the volume.

OOC: ... Now there's the Rumbiak we all know and love! :D

(On the assumption that the transport landed in one piece ;) )

Jeff and Katherine each carried one of the twins while walking with Dr. Niven through the snow to Dun Adien. As they approached, they turned toward the nursery to drop off Marcus and Julie. Jeff flipped a golden coin to Weathers then jerked a thumb toward the transport.

"Air up and rotate the tires, fill up the gas tank and keep the engine warm and I'm sure Dr. Niven will tip you with your own tropical island someplace," Jeff smiled warmly and winked at Weathers. "Or go buy yourself a couple bottles of scotch instead."

Markus had enjoyed the chat with his limo driver thoroughly. A charming fellow, with fascinating stories about the outlying territories. What he really wanted to hear about was Gallaga, and how its people were taking the fall of Hiresh Dhawan. With luck, he thought, the old Prime Minister would be lurking about the festivities somewhere.

In the meantime, it was freezing here. Markus spent the short drive in fear for his life as the car swerved continually trying to get a grip on the ice. But he was glad the hosts were supplying the drivers. A Tanah Burung citizen could never drive on snow. For that matter, with cars only now coming into production, odds are someone from Tanah Burung couldn't drive at all.

So when Quinton asked to take his coat, Markus could only laugh and say: "I never thought to bring one. But yes, you can take the blanket your driver was kind enough to lend me. And brother, can you fill me in on something? We abolished our own royalty back in the revolution. How exactly am i supposed to greet your king?"

After walking back from the nursery, where Marcus and Julie started playing immediately with the other children, Jeff and Katherine walk back down the hallway towards Quinton to hand him their jackets, waiting until he finished talking with the shivering gentleman in the rather loudish jacket. ;)

"Air up and rotate the tires, fill up the gas tank and keep the engine warm and I'm sure Dr. Niven will tip you with your own tropical island someplace," Jeff smiled warmly and winked at Weathers. "Or go buy yourself a couple bottles of scotch instead."

Weathers caught the coin as deftly as his thick coat allowed him with a small smile. Really, the King's I Grenadiers weren't supposed to take tips from visiting guests, but that hadn't ever stopped Weathers, and no one in official charge wanted to challenge the crafty little private.

"I think a bottle of scotch would taste mighty good on a night like this," Weathers replied, rubbing his gloved hands together, "But the sarge'd have me if I went in quite yet. You folks enjoy yourself, though."

What he really wanted to hear about was Gallaga, and how its people were taking the fall of Hiresh Dhawan. With luck, he thought, the old Prime Minister would be lurking about the festivities somewhere.

The driver didn't seem to know much at all about Gallaga, and certainly not its current state of affairs, beyond what the state-funded schools and an occasional IanCorp newsreel could teach him. He knew that too many Gallagans were migrating to the Empire and taking jobs away from honest, hard-working Shieldians. He knew that they had elephants and grew almost all of the tea, opium, and tobacco that Commonwealthers were addicted to. He knew that Gallaga was actually under the control of the East Gallaga Company, which was in many ways a government of its own right and only loosely attached to Ianapalis. He also knew that Chiang Maï was giving the Company a very hard time around St. Walburg, but any after effects of Dhawan's removal were a foreign topic to him - after all Gallaga was a darn far ways away!

So when Quinton asked to take his coat, Markus could only laugh and say: "I never thought to bring one. But yes, you can take the blanket your driver was kind enough to lend me. And brother, can you fill me in on something? We abolished our own royalty back in the revolution. How exactly am i supposed to greet your king?"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Rumbiak," fretted Quinton. "If you'll be kind enough to give me your size, I'll have a taylor make you one before the Gala starts, at the crown's expense, of course!"

"Well, sir," he continued after the next question, "I think that young James is far too lax in his own pursuit of the proper respect due the High King, but he is insistant on not standing too much upon formality. I would imagine that if you were to simply go up and introduce yourself with a slight bow, that would be more than sufficient."

Quinton then turned to a young, pale guard. "Lawrence, if you'll be kind enough to show our guest to the party?" The guard nodded at motioned for Rumbiak to follow him.

At the door to the Great Hall, the herald stood and bowed slightly. "What name shall I announce, sir?"

(OOC: Just got godmoded out of the war, so you have my complete attention until I go in the field in the morning. And Fyreheart used to be such a nice guy....)

Dr. Niven shakes the snow off his coat and kisses the little ones before wandering off to find his favorite chair and a glass of brandy.

After walking back from the nursery, where Marcus and Julie started playing immediately with the other children, Jeff and Katherine walk back down the hallway towards Quinton to hand him their jackets, waiting until he finished talking with the shivering gentleman in the rather loudish jacket. ;)

"Ah, Sir Jeffery; Lady Katherine," said Quinton with a small bow, taking their coats and passing them off to his assistant. "If you'll be kind enough to acompany Mr. Rumbiak, I'm sure the High King will be most pleased to see you."

The herald at the door now addressed his question to all three.

Jeff thought for a moment, "Just announce Mr. Rumbiak and his manservent," he grinned mischeviously.

Jeff thought for a moment, "Just announce Mr. Rumbiak and his manservent," he grinned mischeviously.

Rumbiak throws back his head and laughs, perhaps more loudly than is appropriate, then starts coughing. Damn this cold! "I left my titles behind when my province saw fit to vote me out of office," he says to Quentin. "You may announce me as Citizen Rumbiak, from the United Provinces of Tanah Burung." His lip curls derisively as he says the word United. "And my thanks on the protocol lesson!"

He turns to Jeff and extends his hand, bowing slightly in case that was also the protocol for ambassadors with exalted titles. "Always a privilege to come across a Larkinian in my travels. I've developed quite a fondness for certain of your countrymen. Tell me, do you agree that a country should be judged by its young people?"

The young Iansislean smiled and almost announced as Jeff instructed, but caught himself as Markus spoke. He smiled knowingly, and opened the door.

"Citizen Markus Rumbiak of the United Provinces of Tanah Burung!"

"Ambassador Sir Jeffery Williams the Honorable of the Principality of Larkinia!"

"Lady Katherine Williams of the Kingdom of Daezeman!"

James looked up as Jeff and Kate were announced, then bowed quickly to the Empress. "You'll forgive me I trust, your Highness. I must go greet my guests." He turned quickly and angled towards the door, a broad smile on his face and Christin by his side.

---

Headquarters, XV Company I Lancers -- December 23rd
Oasis, Dianatran, the Commonwealth

“You wanted to see me, major?” asked Lieutenant Gordon, who saluted as he stepped softly through the office’s open door. Major the Honorable Reginald Mueller glanced up at the new arrival from a stack of papers, returned the salute, then gestured him towards the open one of his two guest chairs. The other was filled with Lieutenant Walter Portman, who stood and nodded stiffly at Gordon.

“Good day, lieutenant,” started the major in his usually rumbling voice. “I believe you know Lieutenant Portman, the commander of the 7th Platoon?”

“Of course,” answered Gordon at what was probably meant as a rhetorical question. He turned at dipped his head briefly at his counterpart. “Lieutenant.”

“Lieutenant,” replied Portman with a brief nod.

“Good,” continued Mueller with a slight cough. “Now, gentlemen, if you don’t mind terribly, I fear I must cut straight to business. Our aerial reconnaissance picked up evidence of a potential settlement in the Uplands.”

“Another one?” asked Portman, arching an eyebrow. “Do they know how big?”

“Unfortunately, no,” replied Mueller, shaking his head. “Those damned hollywacks are getting much better at hiding from us. Really, it’s more than a little concerning: soon they may be able to encroach upon corporate territory without us being able to do a single thing.”

“This far south, it’s bound to be a primarily raider outfit,” said Gordon, his amazing ability to state the obvious doing little to impress his commanding officer.

“My thoughts exactly, lieutenant,” replied Mueller, “and according to the fly boys, they’re less than a day’s ride from Derricks 17 through 28. If they are still getting those explosive shipments, this could potentially be disastrous. Now, I want you two to take your platoons up there and clear them out at dusk tomorrow.” Mueller paused to tap at a largish map. “Portman, you’ll take your platoon up Old Parchment Road; Gordon, I want you to take yours through the Stony Canyon Pass.”

“Stony Canyon?” asked Gordon with a grimace. “No offense, sir, but a lot of my men have been getting worried about that road. They say the hollywacks could show up at any time and do the same thing they did to Lieutenant Baxter.”

“That was a long time ago, son,” grunted Mueller. “Still, if you feel it’ll calm your men’s nerves, we’ll have a Warhorse fly recon for your platoon to make sure there’s no hollywack tomfoolery afoot. Now, gentlemen, if there’s no further questions, shall we retire?”

Niven slowly makes his way to the main hall after stealing a sandwich from the kitchen and flirting with the cooking staff. He brushed the crumbs off his suit and approaches the door.

He turns to Jeff and extends his hand, bowing slightly in case that was also the protocol for ambassadors with exalted titles. "Always a privilege to come across a Larkinian in my travels. I've developed quite a fondness for certain of your countrymen. Tell me, do you agree that a country should be judged by its young people?"

Jeff stopped Rumbiak from bowing, "Dear God, don't bow! I tell you sir, these titles are always getting in the way," he said as he smiled and shook Marcus' hand.

"Then you shouldn't tell him the rest of your titles, Admiral Duke Sir Williams the Honora..." the red-head next to Jeff winked at Marcus.

"Please no more," he winked to her while brushing his auburn hair back, slightly embarrased. "I'm Jeff Williams, Ambassador to Iansisle, and this is my wife, Katherine."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Katherine smiled at Rumbiak.

"Hmmmm, certain of my countrymen?" Jeff asked. "Good lord, what did Christopher and the rest of my former sub crewmen do in Tanah Burung?? I'm almost afraid to ask.

"To answer your question, it depends. There can be much learned from youth, then again there are many young people that can still be ignorant and detached from reality. I guess the best answer would be to judge a country by all of its peoples, old and young, since the younger generations can learn many lessons from their elders."

Niven slowly makes his way to the main hall after stealing a sandwich from the kitchen and flirting with the cooking staff. He brushed the crumbs off his suit and approaches the door.

The herald nods at yet another familiar face, and again stands in to anounce.

"The Right Honorable, the First Earl of Niven!"

The young Iansislean smiled and almost announced as Jeff instructed, but caught himself as Markus spoke. He smiled knowingly, and opened the door.

"Citizen Markus Rumbiak of the United Provinces of Tanah Burung!"

"... and his manservent!" Jeff whispered to him, "Don't let me down!

"James likes to be called 'King James the Wonderful, Ruler of the seven seas, master of all the universe, whom must be obeyed.'..." Jeff was cut short as Katherine elbowed his ribs.

"Behave yourself!" she whispered.

He turned to introduce Dr. Niven to Mr. Rumbiak when he heard...

"Ambassador Sir Jeffery Williams the Honorable of the Principality of Larkinia!"

"Lady Katherine Williams of the Kingdom of Daezeman!"

"Darn, another joke ruined" Jeff whispered with a warm smile as James and Christin approached.

"James!" Jeff said, his smile growing as the King walked over.

(OOC: Did we do the elevation, or is this a suprise to Niven ?)

(OOC: Did we do the elevation, or is this a suprise to Niven ?)

OOC: Ummmm... surprise! Quick kneel so he can perform the blessing! ;)

(OOC: Did we do the elevation, or is this a suprise to Niven ?)

(heh, I'm just assuming we did...unless you want it to be a surprise ;). Really, your call - I was just assuming James wanted to elevate Niven fairly quickly after that one thread, and this one is presumably 'some time later')

"Jeff, you old sea-dog," he laughed, embracing his old friend briefly - and much to the surprise of any Iansisleans who may have happened to glance in that general direction! He then hugged Kate briefly, and smiled and bowed briefly to Rumbiak. "Ah, you must be Ambassador Rumbiak. I must say that it's a pleasure to meet you at last. I'm High King James."

"James, how are you?" Jeff asked hugging his friend. "I see you haven't been able to get him to pin down a date yet have you?" he asked Christin with a grin.

"Now now," Katherine said, hugging James in turn, "Lord knows it took you long enough to settle on a date for the two of us."

"First Earl, I like that..." He entered the room and looked around, the usueal crowd, that was good. He said a short prayer that christmas would happen without Jeff being attacked by a zombie santa and vampire elves...

"A brandy would be nice."

"First Earl, I like that..." He entered the room and looked around, the usueal crowd, that was good. He said a short prayer that christmas would happen without Jeff being attacked by a zombie santa and vampire elves...

OOC: Hmmmm... "Satan Claus"... :twisted:

"Ah, you must be Ambassador Rumbiak. I must say that it's a pleasure to meet you at last. I'm High King James."

Ooh, a High King. Markus pushes the thought down. Diplomacy! "The pleasure, Sir, is all mine," he says with his best air of solemnity and and bows in return, aiming for an incline of a few millimeters lower than James' own bow. His feather head dress slips from his head and falls to the floor.

"Damn, i mean, darn, i mean, so much for formality," he says, looking simaltaneously deflated and amused. "You'll have to forgive me, i don't do the diplomatic niceties very well. I'm more at home at a sports function than a court function, i must admit."

"I'm great Jeff, and you? How are the twins doing?" He smiled at Katherine, "And their newest sibling?"

Instantly after the next question, James reached back to scratch the back of his neck, jangling the broadsword. "Er, I, ah, well..."

"I think what he means is that we haven't quite been able to nail one down yet," filled in Christin with a laugh, hugging James around the waist - again causing a gasp among some of the party's more conservative attendees. Both of them ignored it. "But soon, right dear?"

"Very soon," James agreed.

"The twins are doing great!" Jeff said.

"And their newest sibling is kicking me like you wouldn't believe, in fact, if you will all forgive me, I think I need to sit down and let him relax," Katherine smiled, kissing Jeff's cheek. "It was wonderful to meet you Mr. Rumbiak."

"You need any help?" Jeff started to ask.

"No, no, I'll just be over near the fire." she smiled and walked to an easy chair to sit down.

Jeff knelt down and helped pick up Rumbiak's head dress, "Here you go sir," he said handing it to him.

"Damn, i mean, darn, i mean, so much for formality," he says, looking simaltaneously deflated and amused. "You'll have to forgive me, i don't do the diplomatic niceties very well. I'm more at home at a sports function than a court function, i must admit."

James smiled and bent over to help pick up headress, causing three seperate servants who had been rushing in for the same purpose to stop halfway. "Don't worry about it at all, Ambassador. As much as Quinton would like to try and bully me into it, I've never been a big fan of all the pomp and circumstance of court."

"Sports function, eh? Any one in particular? As embarassing as it is to admit to, I am a fan of Iansislean international sports."

He of course knew about the how the Gulls had lost at the Cassowaries' hands, but didn't want to think about it.

"The twins are doing great!" Jeff said.

"And their newest sibling is kicking me like you wouldn't believe, in fact, if you will all forgive me, I think I need to sit down and let him relax," Katherine smiled, kissing Jeff's cheek. "It was wonderful to meet you Mr. Rumbiak."

"I'm sorry, Kate," said James with a slight chuckle. "Please, make yourself at home, and don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."

"Actually, dear, I think I'll join her, that is, if you don't mind, Kate," said Christin, looking from James to Katherine. James arched an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged slightly.

Niven wanders over to Kate and gives her a slightly worried look "Everything alright, dear ?" His face taking on a fatherly cast.

Ah, chivalry is not dead!

Bowing to Katherine as she moves off, Markus starts to pick up his headdress, very nearly bumping heads with both the High King and the Larkinian Ambassador as they too reach for it.

To James, he says: "Oh, all sports of course." Including one i'm far too polite to mention. "Football is my favourite, naturally. Congratulations on your team's incredible debut on the international stage, by the way. I'm sure they'll be soon be a force to be reckoned with and surprise us all at the World Cup in four years' time."

what is a midwinter's tree without a train goind arround under it?

a tree that big is big enough to need a train big enough to rid on under it.

carlemnaria therefore sends greetings and offers to set up (and run unless you'd rather run it yourself) a ride on train 'under' and arround your national yule tree

=^^=
.../\...

James was very glad that Rumbiak chose not to mention the Gulls humuliation. He had followed the Ians' World Cup campaign out of the corner of his eye, but racking his brain could not come up with if the Tanah Burung side - he couldn't come up with 'crocodiles' either - had qualified or not. He decided to go out on a limb.

"I thank you, sir. It was certainly more than we had any right to expect. And my congradulations on your own side qualifying. I know I'll be rooting for them."

carlemnaria therefore sends greetings and offers to set up (and run unless you'd rather run it yourself) a ride on train 'under' and arround your national yule tree.

Railway officials at RM&M TerraFreight were, needless to say, very upset when they found out that their contract to run a model train in Unity Square had been usurped. However, all their complaints were met by Jameston Place's insistance that 'this will be a perfect way to build up relations with newer nations!'

Carlemnaria was therefore given the contract with His Majesty's government's blessings, and asked if they wouldn't also like to send an envoy to the Christmas Eve party at Dun Adien and the following mass/Gala?

(quickly calculates how long Katherine's been pregnant... hmmmm... maybe in a few days)

"Not at all," Katherine said to Christin, "I'd like the company."

Katherine gives Dr. Niven a tired smile as she sits down, "Yeah, I'm fine. Like I said, he's gonna be a little soccer player."

----------

Jeff stood up with the two men and nodded as they talked about the recent World Cup games and realized he'd never seen Larkinia field a team outside of American Football.

----------

Javin and Takeo Katana noticed as Jeff and Rumbiak walked into the room. They looked at each other. Takeo shook his head.

"Not now. I'll need to talk to Ambassador Williams alone, and you need to stay away from Marcus, he was kind to you before, he won't be again." Takeo said.

Railway officials at RM&M TerraFreight were, needless to say, very upset when they found out that their contract to run a model train in Unity Square had been usurped. However, all their complaints were met by Jameston Place's insistance that 'this will be a perfect way to build up relations with newer nations!'
OOC: so in other words, to RM&M a heartfelt, "Neener Neener Boo Boo!" :P

'Alright then, but I am going to check you out tonight anyway." He then looks over the crowd again and looks for the buffet table.

'Alright then, but I am going to check you out tonight anyway." He then looks over the crowd again and looks for the buffet table.

"It's OK dad," she smiled at Niven, "Do enjoy yourself, it's a party after all! Maybe you'll find the next Miss Right Now here."

"Not at all," Katherine said to Christin, "I'd like the company."

Katherine gives Dr. Niven a tired smile as she sits down, "Yeah, I'm fine. Like I said, he's gonna be a little soccer player."

Christin smiles her thanks, then kisses James on the side of the cheek. "Be back soon, love."

"I'll be counting the seconds," he laughed as she walked off.

After taking a seat next to Katherine, Christin fiddled with her hands, flicking her thumb gently against her index finger, but didn't really say anything.

Katherine looked around the room, whistled a little tune then turned to Christin. "is everything all right? What's on your mind?"

OOC: so in other words, to RM&M a heartfelt, "Neener Neener Boo Boo!" :P

(The very same one they so richy deserve :). Hmm, maybe having a liberal government will be interesting...)

'Alright then, but I am going to check you out tonight anyway." He then looks over the crowd again and looks for the buffet table.

The buffet table was located far away from the main dance floor, and there weren't many guests lining up for it yet. A few bored servers stood behind the heaps of turkey, chicken, beef, mashed potatoes, and fine Iansislean seafood. There were a couple small but luxerious round tables set up for those who didn't want to eat on their feet

Katherine looked around the room, whistled a little tune then turned to Christin. "is everything all right? What's on your mind?"

Christin didn't look surprised at all when Kate's voice hit her, as if she had been waiting for that very question. "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing important.." she started. "But how long was your engagement?" He eyes stayed out towards the door, on Jeff, James, and Markus.

Niven grinned braodly at the buffett table and then winked at one of the servers "alright mate, how about someof that lovely seafood ?" While playing the part of the slightly silly grandfather he keenly scans the room, one never knows where danger will hide, and his grandchildren were here..

The first server continued to stare off into space for a few seconds before another elbowed him to full alertness.

"You, yes, of course my lord!" he exclaimed, heaping a plate with salmon, shrimp, and just about anything else Niven could possibly want.

The rest of the party seemed perfectly tame: just a few groups of foreign and domestic dignitaries standing around talking while the string quartet played softly in the corner.

Christin didn't look surprised at all when Kate's voice hit her, as if she had been waiting for that very question. "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing important.." she started. "But how long was your engagement?" He eyes stayed out towards the door, on Jeff, James, and Markus.

Katherine smiled at Christin, "Let's see.. we were engaged at Duchess Elizabeth's wedding, then officially at the Imitoran unveiling of their new fleet. Then it was a matter of keeping Jeff alive long enough to plan the wedding... it was over a year. Why? Are you getting worried about James?"

Katherine smiled at Christin, "Let's see.. we were engaged at Duchess Elizabeth's wedding, then officially at the Imitoran unveiling of their new fleet. Then it was a matter of keeping Jeff alive long enough to plan the wedding... it was over a year. Why? Are you getting worried about James?"

"No, no, of course not!" insisted Christin, looking at last properly at Katherine. "Well, yes, a little. I don't know -- he insists he's ready to have the wedding, but one thing or another keeps pushing the date back, be it those elections, or that scare where we had to evacuate. I mean, I don't think he's trying to delay, but..."

She shook her head and smiled at Kate. "Of course, I suppose it hasn't been anywhere near a year, has it? I must just be getting paranoid."

"Well, if you can get him to commit to a date, any date, then tell him it doesn't matter if it's a big ceremony, or a secret ceremony with you and him and a minister. and don't let anything move it back this time. you can always have a wedding, just not a huge one." Katherine said.

"And remember, it will all work out in the end. Just go on 'living in sin' -oof!" Katherine said, "Wow, that was a 50-yard field goal right there. Besides, living together a while can be just as fun," she winked.

Christin chuckled slightly. "I know, I'll talk to him tonight. I also know I'm being kinda silly...it's just that, before I met James, I'd never known anyone of the male gender who could commit to anything, especially not marriage. I guess I'm just a little paranoid."

She shook her head, then glanced curiously down at Kate's stomach. It was very clear she was interested in pregnacy. "How long has it been now, Kate?"

(*rubs eyes* Oi, I think I may need to call it a night, guys. Later on!)

Christin chuckled slightly. "I know, I'll talk to him tonight. I also know I'm being kinda silly...it's just that, before I met James, I'd never known anyone of the male gender who could commit to anything, especially not marriage. I guess I'm just a little paranoid."

She shook her head, then glanced curiously down at Kate's stomach. It was very clear she was interested in pregnacy. "How long has it been now, Kate?"

(*rubs eyes* Oi, I think I may need to call it a night, guys. Later on!)

Katherine laughed with Christin, "Oh honey, I know what you mean. It'll work out, James is ga-ga over you!"

She smiled more when Christin asked about the pregnancy, "Just on the other side of 8 months now. We've been taking it carefully, because we don't want any complications.

"I swear to god, I think he's just kicking so he'll find a way out of there. One hint for you and James, if they offer you the chance to stay awake during the delivery, no way! Tell them to give you as many drugs as it takes! The glory of childbirth my ass! They'll have you screaming to get it out," she said with a wink.

----------

Jeff turned to Rumbiak, "Mr. Rumbiak, what do you do in Tanah Burung now? Are you enjoying your time?"

OOC: I think I'm outta here too, gotta get some sleep before the AM showing of "Return of the King" this morning, g'night everyone! Oh and Celeborne, if you want to do that exam tonight, since you have to leave for a few days, Niven will find Kate is almost ready to deliver. Catch y'all tomorrow.

OOC: Imitoran Relay-Iansisle, feel free to use Christin. email me sometime (brockknightirder8503@yahoo.com) and I'll fill ya in on her past. When i get back, I'll be sure to get right at leveling...I mean...the forcefull recon of dun aiden.

IC:

Ryoko quietly observed the group, making notes of who said what, and how the others acted. She waited for Konoko to return, she had disapeared somewhere to change. She quietly rested her hand on her katana, feeling somewhat safer with the handle to the long curved blade resting in her hand.

OOC: Good for you, Lark. Here, Return of the King is not on the cinemas until next year! :?

IC:
As Civic entered into the castle, she took a bunch of snow with her hand and put it in her pocket - "This white sand will cause a sensation back in Hell Bovines", she said, not knowing that the snow was going to melt.

She entered the main hall and greeted the High King with a bow. "I'm Ambassadoress Civic Starcow, representing Mooo IV, and its truly an honour to attend this beautiful gala"
Then, she slowly and discretely walked torwards the coctail bar....

(I only clicked once! I swear!)

Katherine laughed with Christin, "Oh honey, I know what you mean. It'll work out, James is ga-ga over you!"

She smiled more when Christin asked about the pregnancy, "Just on the other side of 8 months now. We've been taking it carefully, because we don't want any complications.

"That seems wise," agreed Christin with a brief nod. "Though, I don't mind telling you, having Dr. Niven about makes me feel a lot safer. Despite James' insistance that Iansisle has always been this way medically, I sometimes find myself wanting a good, twenty-first century doctor's office!"

"I swear to god, I think he's just kicking so he'll find a way out of there. One hint for you and James, if they offer you the chance to stay awake during the delivery, no way! Tell them to give you as many drugs as it takes! The glory of childbirth my ass! They'll have you screaming to get it out," she said with a wink.

"Sounds like a little explorer!" Christin laughed along with Katherine, but - for someone who had flown attack planes into heavily defended targets and danced amongst the stars - managed to look quite nervous too. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she said, flicking her fingers nervously again.

OOC: I think I'm outta here too, gotta get some sleep before the AM showing of "Return of the King" this morning, g'night everyone! Oh and Celeborne, if you want to do that exam tonight, since you have to leave for a few days, Niven will find Kate is almost ready to deliver. Catch y'all tomorrow.

(Ah, lucky! I'm going around 7:00 this evening.)

Ryoko quietly observed the group, making notes of who said what, and how the others acted. She waited for Konoko to return, she had disapeared somewhere to change. She quietly rested her hand on her katana, feeling somewhat safer with the handle to the long curved blade resting in her hand.

(Thanks for the relay ;))

Around her, the Empress might note very muted conversations and occasional glances in her direction, most all of them from tightly bound groups of Iansislean nobles. The castle guards also, whether they knew it or not, also kept much stricter eyes on her than any of the more western guests. Naturally, her Japanese features weren't really closely related to the Chiangese who had attacked the East Gallaga Company half a year ago, but to the largely culturally ignorant Iansisleans, all east asianers looked more or less the same.

She entered the main hall and greeted the High King with a bow. "I'm Ambassadoress Civic Starcow, representing Mooo IV, and its truly an honour to attend this beautiful gala"
Then, she slowly and discretely walked torwards the coctail bar....

"Welcome to Dun Adien, Ambassadoress Starcow," greeted James, bowing slightly and only tripping over the unfamiliar title a little. "I can't tell you how honored I was that your honorable Duque chose to send so illustrious an ambassador to our little get-together. I do hope you'll enjoy the ceremonies tomorrow. In the meantime, feel free to make yourself at home!"

And the cocktail bar was indeed a home all of itself!

(ooc: Gosh, these things build up quickly. Must not get left behind too far this time! Sir Henry never made any progress with those diamonds and I ended up buggering off to London.
(I'm going at about eight... GMT ;) ))

Sir Henry, somewhat vexed by the minimal airspeed maintained by his aircraft for most of the trip, was glad to be back on solid ground (which I typed as "soiled", way to charm the natives, Henry).

Clad in surprisingly expensive tweed, and brandishing a cane that displayed at least tribute to so much as was possible of the knight's African booty, Sir Henry marched from plane to car with little formality. A pair of aides -whose names he had quite forgotten, though he had gone so far as to notice that neither were his usual travelling companion Baron Alan Thunder-ten-tronckh- scurried along behind the increasingly portly Wayne. These fellows were more typical Walmers, modest black suits topped off with bowlers, a black umbrella over one arm while the little men struggled with Sir Henry's emergency baggage and assorted gifts.

"It's like ruddy Norbray!" Wayne observed of the present Iansislian weather as he headed for the castle. Sir Henry, a man of southern inclination and African exploration, was always afraid that the cold would "do something" to his considerable moustache, and seemed rather preoccupied with it as he walked from car to castle.

A pair of aides -whose names he had quite forgotten, though he had gone so far as to notice that neither were his usual travelling companion Baron Alan Thunder-ten-tronckh- scurried along behind the increasingly portly Wayne.

(I didn't think I'd ever stop laughing after I read this sentence...brilliant!)

Sir Henry, or perhaps more likely his aides, may notice that Iansisle, especially in comparison to Walmington on Sea, hardly seemed like a country at war. Indeed, except for a few patriotic posters (most bearing slogans like "Roll back the Hun" or "Help put the Chiangman in his place!") in store windows, one wouldn't even know anything out of the ordinary may be happening in other parts of the world. Iansisle liked to do things its own way, and after the initial burst of nationalistic outrage and indignation at the Chiangese attack and Queen Jessica's duel, the Commonwealth had settled into business as normal.

In one way, the attitude could certainly be understood. Except for a few hundred troops in Burma, no non-Company ground forces had been seriously engaged, and no real naval engagements - excluding the Jessica - had yet occured (assuming that spit with Chiang Mai is in suspended animation). The public had neither a stupendous victory to cheer nor a horrendous defeat to defend revenge for. The papers still published casualty lists, but except for a few green troops succumbing to various tropical diseases in Gallaga, very few names appeared on them.

At the castle's gate, Sir Henry and his entourage were greeted by the omnipresent Quinton, who offered to take their coats and umbrellas. Assuming Sir Henry managed to cause no international incidents in the meantime, he was then directed to the Great Hall, where the herald (perhaps unfortunatly for himself?) asked what names should be announced.

Finaly, Konoko returned to the Empress' side. She too wore a kimono, except it was shorter, ending at mid thigh. She wore with it a pair of pants that would best be compared to modern day 'jammies', that matched the kimono. Both pieces of clothing were a flat black, with hints of a glossy dark purple design. Her brown hair, witch had deep red, almost crimson, higlights, was worn up. She wore a single sword behind her back, held horizontally at the waist. Those well versed in the realm of Japanese weaponry would recokinize it not as a katana or wazikashi, but the simple, straight, Ninja-to.

OOC: Forgot to add, but Iansisle, I'm puting the Zero II on hold, and shelving the Hein II for a while, and going back to WWII tech, in oreder to RP out my nation's history. So with that, if you need any help, I'm sure some Zeros could put the death of a few F3Fs and F6Fs on hold for a bit.

(heh, glad you liked :) )

While the more observant of Wayne's two city-dwelling comrades noted that his surroundings hardly spoke of the pressures of intercontinental war, Sir Henry remained oblivious. Wayne spent most of his time on the estate, drinking or else out shooting, and the sparsely populated countryside left him well enough alone. The only troublesome aspects of war so far had been the imposition upon houses Chassire and Chaspot of some minor degree of rationing, which had caused initial consternation before Sir Henry realised that he could use it as further excuse to spend his time on the hunt.

Plus his wine cellar was well stocked in advance, though more with port, whisky, ale, and brandy than actual wine.

As for the papers, Sir Henry was more interested in acquiring one to check the details of Walmington's convincing cricketing victory over ENTROM than to consider the casualties of war.

At the gate Wayne kindly allowed his associates to relinquish their umbrellas and overcoats. He himself was wearing just the one layer over his fairly ordinary shirt, and was as such disinterested in handing over his tweed jacket, inside which he carried a Wayne MkIII revolver of his own design. Sir Henry really wasn't a man used to expecting cold.

This became especially evident when he replied to the herald, "S-sir Hen-nry Chaspot-t Wayne.. of Waynesia.. Ah, p-plus t-two."

Of the two, Civil Servant Junior Grade James Tinker looked slightly hurt, while Civil Servant Junior Grade Barton Bartlett was evidently strained to keep in a snigger at Sir Henry's expense.

Jeff turned to Rumbiak, "Mr. Rumbiak, what do you do in Tanah Burung now? Are you enjoying your time?"

Briefly, Rumbiak's eyes flash with anger and the remembered sting of defeat. It wasn't like that in the revolutionary council days. And this precious political freedom? Bah. But he regained his composure and stifled the impulse to hit someone.

"Please, Ambassador, call me Markus. I have no titles now, no offices, no honours." He stops, realizing this sounds like moping. "I have to admit, i'm rather at loose ends. Can't decide if i want to make a political comeback or find an anti-colonial struggle for freedom and relive my glory days. And if i can't find an anti-colonial struggle, my province might benefit from independence." Or was that a sensitive topic while standing in front of the King of Iansisle? Better move on!

He scans the room and notices some of the other company. Dear God, Javin Katana. Rumbiak looks back to his companions and tries desperately to think of a safe topic. "So! Is there much dancing in the Commonwealth?"

Around her, the Empress might note very muted conversations and occasional glances in her direction, most all of them from tightly bound groups of Iansislean nobles. The castle guards also, whether they knew it or not, also kept much stricter eyes on her than any of the more western guests. Naturally, her Japanese features weren't really closely related to the Chiangese who had attacked the East Gallaga Company half a year ago, but to the largely culturally ignorant Iansisleans, all east asianers looked more or less the same.

Rumbiak, on the other hand, is relieved to spot another Asian face. The Tanah Burung ethnic mix runs the gamut from Malay to Melanesian (Rumbiak's group). To the "culturally ignorant Iansisleans," he probably looks African.

If there is dancing on the agenda, he thinks, he'd like to take the Empress out for a spin on the ballroom floor. Well, he's actually prefer to dance with King James, but he's unsure how well this would go over in a country known for its conserative social attitudes. And he's almost certain one of the young ladies seated nearby would be less than thrilled with the idea.

(no, damn you! ONCE!)

OOC: Forgot to add, but Iansisle, I'm puting the Zero II on hold, and shelving the Hein II for a while, and going back to WWII tech, in oreder to RP out my nation's history. So with that, if you need any help, I'm sure some Zeros could put the death of a few F3Fs and F6Fs on hold for a bit.

(The world could always use a few more of those, if you ask me. ;) Also, it should probably be mentioned that the 'Allies' in our version of WWII don't include the United States...in fact, Walmington's made some threatening moves to assure the continued operation of the Panama Canal, and Iansisle's flatly refused to join the oil/iron ore/coal embargo on Japan.)

"Sir Henry Wayne of Waynesia and company!" came the heralds announcement.

Across the room, James did indeed cough slightly into his hand at the mention of anti-imperialistic crusades, and made a mental not to keep Mr. Rumbiak as far away from Sir Henry for the duration of the Gala event.

The rest of the room, at least those from the Shield, let loose a slight rustle at the announcement of Wayne's name. After all, most Iansislean overseas adventures had been completed in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, and the presence of the tamer of Waynesia was of much interest. No doubt Sir Henry would find a willing audience somewhere for his stories!

One such target was announced just afterwards, traveling by himself as usual. "Grand Admiral Sir Richard Tri, First Sea Lord of the Royal Iansislean Navy!" One might wonder what the highest ranking officer in any branch of the Iansislean military was doing attending a party while there was a war on, but surely a social event must take precedence over martial affairs in the Commonwealth! Of course, Wayne should be careful, in case he become on the receiving end of one of Tri’s many - and constantly changing as he aged - stories about his glory days in command of HIMS Nestor and the Effitian Invasion.

Back in the main conversation group, James hoped that Wayne and Tri would occupy each other well enough that neither of them would get into an argument with Mr. Rumbiak, which was certain to end in an international embarrassment.

“Er, dancing, Mr...er, Markus?” asked James with relief. “Yes, of course, though dancing usually waits until just before the dinner is formally announced. Still, if you’d like, I can have the quartet strike up some proper music.” He neglected to mention, however, that the preferred court dance in Iansislean high society was the minuet, and only the most unabashed liberals would attempt something so scandalous as a waltz - never mind whatever it was the Markus had in mind!

OOC: Very cool. With that in mind, I do belive that certain actions in the pacific will be a touch different. Dont be afraid to call me up if you get in any trouble over there, lol. Also, this is gonna be my only post for a bit, as I am at home and A)On a 28.8K modem and B)Need to share the computer with my family. I'll probably post later tonight though. Also, larkinia, how was LOTR? The Ft. Worth paper was none to kind to it, something about the hobbits bordering on homoeroticism?

IC:

Konoko looked around the room, noting the position of the men she deemed cute. She may be of a Ninja clan, and carry the Ninja-to with her, but that didn't mean husband hunting was to be put on hold. However, she also stayed close to the Empress, as her duty was to protect her.

The Empress on the other hand moved about the room. She noticed the man from Tanha Burrung, and made a note to speak with him later, as he seemed of an Asian descent. She would also have to speak with the king, in thanks of his refusal to join with the US and other nations on the Japanese oil embargo.

OOC: Very cool. With that in mind, I do belive that certain actions in the pacific will be a touch different. Dont be afraid to call me up if you get in any trouble over there, lol. Also, this is gonna be my only post for a bit, as I am at home and A)On a 28.8K modem and B)Need to share the computer with my family. I'll probably post later tonight though. Also, larkinia, how was LOTR? The Ft. Worth paper was none to kind to it, something about the hobbits bordering on homoeroticism?

OOC: Well, I've read some of those Ft. Worth reviews before, anything short of two men shooting at each other borders on homoeroticism. :wink: That said, it did just a smidge, but the ass-kicking (of which there was a lot, now I know why all of the stunt-men were scared of Viggo Mortensen!) made up for it. I gave it 5 outta 5 stars.

28.8K modem? Wow... I mean... wow!

Briefly, Rumbiak's eyes flash with anger and the remembered sting of defeat. It wasn't like that in the revolutionary council days. And this precious political freedom? Bah. But he regained his composure and stifled the impulse to hit someone.

Jeff saw the flash of rage on Rumbiak's face.

I... er... um... uh-oh....

"Please, Ambassador, call me Markus. I have no titles now, no offices, no honours." He stops, realizing this sounds like moping. "I have to admit, i'm rather at loose ends. Can't decide if i want to make a political comeback or find an anti-colonial struggle for freedom and relive my glory days. And if i can't find an anti-colonial struggle, my province might benefit from independence."

"Only if you'll call me Jeff," Jeff smiled at Rumbiak. "This whole Ambassador-Sir-Duke title thing is really cumbersome, I'd prefer to just be known as a good person instead of an ambassador."

Takeo, picking up his drink from the bar, had heard the end of that statement and was thinking...

That can be arraigned.

Jeff continued with Marcus, "And what about starting your own political party for a comeback? One that you feel represents your ideals and beliefs better than the ones in Tanah Burung?"

He scans the room and notices some of the other company. Dear God, Javin Katana.

(OOC: He's batting 1.000 today :lol: )

Javin met eyes with Rumbiak a moment and continued to scan the room. Hmmmm... I wonder if we can continue that debate.

(OOC: And to continue Javin's streak...) Katherine looked around the room and saw Javin looking at Rumbiak and Jeff. Dear God, they let him out of his padded room...

If there is dancing on the agenda, he thinks, he'd like to take the Empress out for a spin on the ballroom floor. Well, he's actually prefer to dance with King James, but he's unsure how well this would go over in a country known for its conserative social attitudes. And he's almost certain one of the young ladies seated nearby would be less than thrilled with the idea.

(OOC: and a voice enters Rumbiak's head.... Do it!!!! ;) )

"That seems wise," agreed Christin with a brief nod. "Though, I don't mind telling you, having Dr. Niven about makes me feel a lot safer. Despite James' insistance that Iansisle has always been this way medically, I sometimes find myself wanting a good, twenty-first century doctor's office!"

"Isn't that the truth! Or sometime even a good, 20th century doctors office," Katherine winked.

"Sounds like a little explorer!" Christin laughed along with Katherine, but - for someone who had flown attack planes into heavily defended targets and danced amongst the stars - managed to look quite nervous too. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she said, flicking her fingers nervously again.

Katherine smiled at Christin, "You still look a little nervous, actually you look more nervous than me, and I'm expecting!," she added with a wink.

"What else has you nervous?"

(ooc: Been really busy, will try posting Tom. at school)

Back in the main conversation group, James hoped that Wayne and Tri would occupy each other well enough that neither of them would get into an argument with Mr. Rumbiak, which was certain to end in an international embarrassment.

ooc: Yes, probably for the best!

“Er, dancing, Mr...er, Markus?” asked James with relief. “Yes, of course, though dancing usually waits until just before the dinner is formally announced. Still, if you’d like, I can have the quartet strike up some proper music.” He neglected to mention, however, that the preferred court dance in Iansislean high society was the minuet, and only the most unabashed liberals would attempt something so scandalous as a waltz - never mind whatever it was the Markus had in mind!

"Oh, not on my account! I'll simply join in at the appropriate time. At any rate, I don't imagine they know the Lenso that we'd dance at home as a greeting. It involves a lot of jumping and gyrating and waving of specially-made handkerchiefs. Come visit Tanah Burung some time, and you'll certainly see it danced." He toys with a red cocktail napkin, wondering if it might pass muster as a lenso handkerchief.

He turns to Civic Starcow, glad he has learned the trick of not gasping in amazement at the sight of a Hell Bovine, and asks: "Do you dance, ma'am? Perhaps after your drink, we might take a turn about the floor?"


If there is dancing on the agenda, he thinks, he'd like to take the Empress out for a spin on the ballroom floor. Well, he's actually prefer to dance with King James, but he's unsure how well this would go over in a country known for its conserative social attitudes. And he's almost certain one of the young ladies seated nearby would be less than thrilled with the idea.

(OOC: and a voice enters Rumbiak's head.... Do it!!!! )

ooc: OK, a diplomatic incident i can handle. Scandalizing the entire Iansislean court by making advances on the head of state might be a tad excessive though, don't you think?

"Political parties, Jeff old man?" he says jovially. "We don't have those, they so often lead to messy situations, with good men being tossed out of office as parties manoevre for advantage. But perhaps we'll have to move to a party system soon. Remains to be seen. With elections every year, i may yet be back in power before long." And then there will be some changes.

"I see your illustrious president has brought his kid brother along," he adds, noticing that Javin has spotted him, and realizing he's have to speak to him soon enough. "Tell me, do you let this distinguished young gentlemen make foreign policy often?"

ooc: OK, a diplomatic incident i can handle. Scandalizing the entire Iansislean court by making advances on the head of state might be a tad excessive though, don't you think?

"Political parties, Jeff old man?" he says jovially. "We don't have those, they so often lead to messy situations, with good men being tossed out of office as parties manoevre for advantage. But perhaps we'll have to move to a party system soon. Remains to be seen. With elections every year, i may yet be back in power before long." And then there will be some changes.

"I see your illustrious president has brought his kid brother along," he adds, noticing that Javin has spotted him, and realizing he's have to speak to him soon enough. "Tell me, do you let this distinguished young gentlemen make foreign policy often?"

OOC: Awww, but that would be so much fun, maybe Jeff will take James for a twirl on the dance floor, he's used to causing a stir in Iansisle ;)

IC: "Really? No political parties? But how do you stop people from banding together unbeknownst to the populace? That's a very exciting idea.

"You have elections every year? We have them every 3 years in Larkinia, or, we're supposed to now that there's a democratically elected government in power again. I wish you all the luck in the world at getting re-elected."

Jeff cleared his throat, looked down quickly and then glanced over at Javin, who was chatting up some minor nobleman.

"I... don't have much dealings with my government. The nice thing about my situation here is that I have a slightly more free hand to deal with situations out here. From what I've heard President Katana is a good man. Javin on the other hand... can be a hothead, although he kept his cool when Dr. Niven," Jeff pointed out his adopted father to Marcus, "and King James lit into him on his previous visit.

"I did read about the stir he caused in Tanah Burung, and I am truly sorry for his actions. I'd like to think that the rest of our diplomats don't react in that way."

OOC: Awww, but that would be so much fun, maybe Jeff will take James for a twirl on the dance floor, he's used to causing a stir in Iansisle ;)

ooc: Well, we'll see. Perhaps the spirit will move Rumbiak, if this is still in the ball room tomorrow. Actually, any man who gives him any sign of encouragement might get some action. :wink:

OOC: Well, I saw LOTR yesterday, and to quote Imitora...Screw the elves, I want me a Nazgul...

IC:

Ryoko noticed a yet involved king, and began her walk towards him. Konoko began to walk as well, but the Empress laid her hand on the young girls arm, and told her to stop. "Do not worry, this will only take a moment. Why dont you go mingle with the others here. Maybe your search for a companion will see some advanced?"

Konoko nodded and walked away towards another in the hall.

As she aproached, the Empress kept her voice low as she spoke. "Your highness, I wonder if I may have a word with you."

OOC2: It should be of note that the flight of six Ku-47-1200 Hien IIs have been replaced by six modified Ki-61 Hiens (Allied designation Tony) and an H8K flying boat has jumped in in place of the 777. Also, depending on the how much info the spotter has on the aircraft in the pacifc front, he may be a little concerned as the Ki-61 is based on the Meserschmit Bf-109s.

Sir Henry was quite pleased to notice a stirring apparently resulting from his announcement. Wayne handed his cane to Tinker, who accepted it with a sigh. Why couldn't you have handed it over with our coats?

With his chest puffed out somewhat, and the cold visibly leaving body, Sir Henry casually and with a deliberate lack of haste strode out into the middle of the room, turning around several times as he went, observing his company and surroundings.

As time moved on without him, Wayne came to stand out more and more in any company. He'd gained a few pounds and a few lines, and lost a few hairs since the taming of Waynesia during the Second Cape War twenty years earlier. Otherwise he had changed little, except in wealth. No one knew how much he was worth, exactly, but he had for the better part of a decade effectively consumed half of the gross domestic product of an African state of several million. He now held most of his wealth in stocks and shares in Waynesian export firms and Stockley Motors, and in his two stately houses in Walmington. He also hoped to make a pretty penny on The Wayne-easys, his ice hockey squad.. though this was yet to pay off.

Civil Servants Junior Grade James Tinker and Barton Bartlett lingered near the edge of the room, half watching Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne while well-bred Tinker complained his working-class associate's ear-off.

(Good, er, afternoon, all. Sorry my response has been so long in coming...wemt out to see Return of the King last night, which was awesome, came back, and promptly fell asleep for much too long. I'll have a proper response up as soon as I can gather my thoughts.)

"Oh, not on my account! I'll simply join in at the appropriate time. At any rate, I don't imagine they know the Lenso that we'd dance at home as a greeting. It involves a lot of jumping and gyrating and waving of specially-made handkerchiefs. Come visit Tanah Burung some time, and you'll certainly see it danced." He toys with a red cocktail napkin, wondering if it might pass muster as a lenso handkerchief.

James was seen to wince visably at the mention of the words "jump" and "gyrate," especially as related to dancing. However, he quickly recovered - not wanting to look rude in front of such distinguished company - and mumbled his general agreement and hopes to visit Tanah Burung “sometime soon.”

The High King was then quiet for a period of time as Rumbiak led the conversation through a thinly veiled reference to Commonwealth’s late removal from power. James was a staunch unificationist and could barely tolerate the Tharian Secessionist Party’s rise, but so direct a slam at Iansisle’s government, a government pioneered by one of his direct ancestors, made his cheeks burn rosy red. Still, he hung in the conversation, vowing to take Rumbiak to see the Tablet of James* someday.

He instead listened to Jeff smoothly deflect the topic into a relative discussion of the political systems of Larkinia and Tanah Burung, and shook his head. That man was meant to be an ambassador, no matter what anyone said. The matter of Javin Katana was a tad bit more disturbing, as James and he hadn’t exactly ‘gotten along’ in their only meeting, and former-P.M. Dhawan’s glowing praise was less than reassuring.

In fact, James had been so deep in listening to Jeff’s and Markus’ conversation that he didn’t even notice Empress Ryoko approaching. He turned his head towards her, perhaps a little more quickly than might be considered polite, but not too fast.

“Ah, Empress,” he started after a brief half-second spent recognizing her. “Yes, of course.” James paused and glanced back at Jeff and Markus, then nodded towards a more secluded corner. “I assume you mean in private?” To his previous conversation mates: “If you’ll both excuse me for a moment?”

---

Just as King James’ thoughts were turning briefly to Hiresh Dhawan, he was spending those exact moments pacing the floor at his sparse but spacious townhouse at the corner of West Borneo and North St. Walburg† Streets. He had received an official crown invite to the party, of course, but also knew so had Alfredo D’Carlonia, and more disturbingly, Edward Tarriff.

Even if he was no longer Prime Minister, Dhawan was still the effective leader of the Commonwealth Party, the single largest in the Combined Parliament, and one of the most powerful men in the Commonwealth. But he also remembered how the High King had refused to stand to his government’s defense in the general elections. Why did he owe James, or any other man who had stabbed him in the back, the pleasure of his company?

Of course, what better place to denounce Tarriff, James, and the lot of them than at a party, or better yet at the Gala itself? Adjusting his glasses and steeling his nerve, Dhawan stepped out his front door, flagging down a passing taxi to take him to the Jameston Place docks.

-----

Katherine smiled at Christin, "You still look a little nervous, actually you look more nervous than me, and I'm expecting!," she added with a wink.

"What else has you nervous?"

“Nothing!” Christin insisted, before falling quiet for a few seconds. “Everything,” she admitted. “Living here,” she swept her hand about the Great Hall vaguely, as if to indicate it, Dun Adien, and perhaps all of Iansisle with a single motion, “is beyond my wildest dreams. To be honest with you, Kate, when I was little, I used to dream about being a princess. About living in a castle somewhere and having everyone bow and call me ‘your highness.

“And now that all this is happening, I’ve never been so worried.” She looked over at Kate, before returning her gaze to James, who was walking with that Empress towards an edge of the room. “I’m worried because every now and then, I wake up in the middle of the night and for a couple seconds can’t remember if I love James ... or his castle.”

(named after James I (r. 1772-1801)

† In Ianapalis, at least the ‘Government Sector,’ the map is dominated by Empire Street, which runs north from Jameston Place to Shadoran International and Commonwealth Street, which runs east-west. Major north-south streets are named after cities throughout the overseas Empire (but not in the Dominions), with the order being roughly (east to west) Whistle’s Station, Fort Ash, Port Laughlin, Empire, Nusheld, Fort Manly, St. Walburg, and Elphinstone Harbor Streets. East-west streets are named after colonies (or parts of colonies), with (south to north) Gallaga, Sarawak, Burma, Mindanao, Commonwealth, Borneo, Palau, Batam, and Elphinstone Streets (ergo the confusion of living on the corner of ‘Elphinstone Harbor and Elphinstone). Jameston Place could be said to be located on the corner of Empire and Gallaga; Unity Square at Empire and Commonwealth; the Imperial Parliament Building at Fort Manly and Commonwealth. East of Whistle’s Station Street is the north-south MacDunn Road, which divides the Government and Industrial sectors)

He instead listened to Jeff smoothly deflect the topic into a relative discussion of the political systems of Larkinia and Tanah Burung, and shook his head. That man was meant to be an ambassador, no matter what anyone said.

(Well heck, now I'm feeling bad for getting ready to replace Jeff with, of all people, Javin. ;) )

“Ah, Empress,” he started after a brief half-second spent recognizing her. “Yes, of course.” James paused and glanced back at Jeff and Markus, then nodded towards a more secluded corner. “I assume you mean in private?” To his previous conversation mates: “If you’ll both excuse me for a moment?”

Jeff nudged James' arm before he walked off, "Try to behave will ya? Remember, you're an engaged man!" he winked.

ooc: Sorry guys, care to catch me up on character locations?

Rumbiak bows again as the King and Empress depart and turns back to Jeff. He sensed that he'd put his foot in about four different mouths during the conversation. If anyone else from Tanah Burung was here, they'd likely be appalled at Rumbiak's behaviour. Bah. Diplomats and their politesse.

"Really? No political parties? But how do you stop people from banding together unbeknownst to the populace? That's a very exciting idea.

Once again, Rumbiak's face darkens. This Jeff seemed to be getting under his skin. But the fellow had some fascainating ideas too.

"I'm afraid we can't. And they have begun to do just that. It was slate voting and dirty money from the cooperatives that lost me my seat. And some jumped-up rubber tapper sits there, lording it over Loro Sae. Perhaps you're right. Perhaps i will form a political party." He chuckles and adds: "Perhaps i should name it after you. How does Marxist-Jeffist sound?"

Jeff cleared his throat, looked down quickly and then glanced over at Javin, who was chatting up some minor nobleman.

"I... don't have much dealings with my government. The nice thing about my situation here is that I have a slightly more free hand to deal with situations out here. From what I've heard President Katana is a good man. Javin on the other hand... can be a hothead, although he kept his cool when Dr. Niven," Jeff pointed out his adopted father to Marcus, "and King James lit into him on his previous visit.

"I did read about the stir he caused in Tanah Burung, and I am truly sorry for his actions. I'd like to think that the rest of our diplomats don't react in that way."

"Of course not! No apologies are due to me, the boy owes an apology only to his brother the president. And as i told him myself, there are no hard feelings. I even offered to buy him a drink, but he had to leave in a hurry. Something about having to slay a dragon, if memory serves. In fact, perhaps i should go ask him how that went."

Once again, Rumbiak's face darkens. This Jeff seemed to be getting under his skin. But the fellow had some fascainating ideas too.

Jeff sipped his drink as he saw the expression on Rumbiak's face change.

Nice going Jeff, so much for not causing too much aggrivation tonight.

"I'm afraid we can't. And they have begun to do just that. It was slate voting and dirty money from the cooperatives that lost me my seat. And some jumped-up rubber tapper sits there, lording it over Loro Sae. Perhaps you're right. Perhaps i will form a political party." He chuckles and adds: "Perhaps i should name it after you. How does Marxist-Jeffist sound?"

Jeff smiled at Rumbiak, "I think it sounds great," Jeff said. "And now you know what to expect and can plan a counter attack."

"Of course not! No apologies are due to me, the boy owes an apology only to his brother the president. And as i told him myself, there are no hard feelings. I even offered to buy him a drink, but he had to leave in a hurry. Something about having to slay a dragon, if memory serves. In fact, perhaps i should go ask him how that went."

Jeff nodded, "Of course Marcus, I apologize for monopolizing so much of your time. I'll catch you later on this evening hopefully and we can talk some more," he said as he shook hands with Rumbiak.

Jeff turned as Rumbiak walked away and felt a hand tap his back. He turned and saw Takeo Katana standing with him.

"Hello Ambassador Williams," Takeo said.

Jeff nodded to the man, "Mr. President," he replied. "How are you?"

"Fine. Jeff, I need to discuss some matters of concern with you," Takeo said, subtly leading Jeff away from the party. "In private."

The two men walked out of the main room and down the hallway.

ooc: Sorry guys, care to catch me up on character locations?

(Don't worry about it, Ag. James is just being engaged in conversation by the Empress; Jeff was just taken away by President Katana; Christin and Katherine are chatting by the fireplace; Dr. Niven is availing himself of the buffet; I believe Markus is looking about for someone to engage in conversation with (or else headed towards the bar and Javin Katana); Grand Admiral Tri and Sir Henry Wayne just entered; Civic is at the bar...er, I think that's everyone)

Jeff nudged James' arm before he walked off, "Try to behave will ya? Remember, you're an engaged man!" he winked.

James smiled back. "I think I'll be able to control myself," he said, blowing a quick kiss at Christin. He also noted President Katana taking Jeff out behind, but didn't assign much significance to it.

"What can I help you with, your highness?"

In the meantime, Grand Admiral Tri had noted Dr. Lord Niven sitting off near the buffet and resolved himself to go engage him in conversation, but first decided to get a pair of brandies from the bar. He smiled faintly at Javin, who he didn't really know, and ordered.

“Nothing!” Christin insisted, before falling quiet for a few seconds. “Everything,” she admitted. “Living here,” she swept her hand about the Great Hall vaguely, as if to indicate it, Dun Adien, and perhaps all of Iansisle with a single motion, “is beyond my wildest dreams. To be honest with you, Kate, when I was little, I used to dream about being a princess. About living in a castle somewhere and having everyone bow and call me ‘your highness.

“And now that all this is happening, I’ve never been so worried.” She looked over at Kate, before returning her gaze to James, who was walking with that Empress towards an edge of the room. “I’m worried because every now and then, I wake up in the middle of the night and for a couple seconds can’t remember if I love James ... or his castle.”

Katherine nods and sips her tea as she listens to Christin. "Now what does your heart tell you? When you are alone in those few seconds, what's the first reassuring thought you have? Is it of you sitting in this castle, or of James?"

He also noted President Katana taking Jeff out behind...

(OOC: To the woodshed with a big ass-whupin' stick... ;) )

He turns to Civic Starcow, glad he has learned the trick of not gasping in amazement at the sight of a Hell Bovine, and asks: "Do you dance, ma'am? Perhaps after your drink, we might take a turn about the floor?"


"Ma'am? I'm not a ma'am, but of course I'd be honored to dance with you handsome man", Civic replies to Rumbiak, rather surprised to discover that he was the first man not to gasp in amazement when seeing her for the first time.
"Do you know how to dance tango?"
She then walked torwards the stage and whispered something to the head musician of the band. Suddenly, the low music was replaced by famous tango song "Por una cabeza", by Carlos Gardel.

"Shall we dance?", she asked to Rumbiak....

"Ah, Admiral, I see you still have a taste for brandy", Roberto said, recognizing his old friend.

Katherine nods and sips her tea as she listens to Christin. "Now what does your heart tell you? When you are alone in those few seconds, what's the first reassuring thought you have? Is it of you sitting in this castle, or of James?"

"Um," started Christin, dropping her voice and glancing about quickly to make sure no one was in earshot. "Usually, when that happens, I can just roll over and look at him sleeping, and know that I love him. But lately, I've been wondering if that's actually my heart talking, or just my brain whispering what it knows I want to hear."

She looked down at the floor. "Kate, I know this is an awful lot to put on you right now, and I'm sorry about that. You're the first person I thought of to talk to, and now that I am, I'm just having trouble putting my thoughts into words."

Katherine smiled at Christin, "It's all right, not any trouble at all. Let's see if we can put those thoughts into words for you.

"Now let's see, what do you love about James? What qualities stand out the most to you?" she asked. "What attracted you to him at first?"

"Ah, Admiral, I see you still have a taste for brandy", Roberto said, recognizing his old friend.

"Ah, hello Roberto," smiled Sir Richard, holding the two glasses. "A rather hard habit to kick, and not one I have any desire to lose. I was actually just going to join Earl Niven at the buffet table; I don't suppose you'd like to grab a brandy and join me?"

Katherine smiled at Christin, "It's all right, not any trouble at all. Let's see if we can put those thoughts into words for you.

"Now let's see, what do you love about James? What qualities stand out the most to you?" she asked. "What attracted you to him at first?"

Christin smiled briefly. "The way he makes me feel wanted," she answered at once to the qualities love question. "The way he was so nervous when he proposed; the way he always holds door open for me or walks on the street side of the sidewalk. Chivalry isn't a particuarly common trait in Imitora these days," she said, again lowering her voice slightly. After a quick blush, she added "I think the first thing I noticed was his rear. Naturally, that's not the IanCorp version. Well, I gave him this stupid little birthday card from my squadron - which he has on our bedroom's mantle now - and he was so polite; so nice..." her voice trailed off as she remembered the trip up to the ramparts, then his white face as they hopped out to see Wing Commander Hugh Kingman and his Bankfield X-27 break the sound barrier.

"I know he doesn't like flying very much," she continued, perhaps randomly to Katherine, "but he was willing, even eager, to go up in a modern jet fighter, just for me."

Jeff and Takeo walked back through the hallway as their talk wound down.

"You're kidding, you have to be kidding me!" Jeff seethed quietly as he put the envelope in his pocket.

"Jeff, every diplomat out there has to present themselves to the Parliament's Foreign Affairs Council to show they are fit, and if not, then to be replaced. Just because you seem to think you live here now, don't forget you still have to follow their lead." Takeo yawned as he strolled along. "And, quite frankly I can't cover your ass with them anymore."

"I understand," Jeff said. "If you'll excuse me a moment, Mr. President."

Christin smiled briefly. "The way he makes me feel wanted," she answered at once to the qualities love question. "The way he was so nervous when he proposed; the way he always holds door open for me or walks on the street side of the sidewalk. Chivalry isn't a particuarly common trait in Imitora these days," she said, again lowering her voice slightly. After a quick blush, she added "I think the first thing I noticed was his rear. Naturally, that's not the IanCorp version. Well, I gave him this stupid little birthday card from my squadron - which he has on our bedroom's mantle now - and he was so polite; so nice..." her voice trailed off as she remembered the trip up to the ramparts, then his white face as they hopped out to see Wing Commander Hugh Kingman and his Bankfield X-27 break the sound barrier.

"I know he doesn't like flying very much," she continued, perhaps randomly to Katherine, "but he was willing, even eager, to go up in a modern jet fighter, just for me."

"Ahhhh yes," Katherine said, "His great fear of flying. I've seen that before. But he was more eager to be with you.

"The IanCorp version of James' rear? What? Do they Photoshop it or something? Or do they have a photo of his... ahem... 'good side'?" Katherine asked with a grin.

"Now what's deeper for your concern? Why do you think you might not love him?"

"Brandy?" Sir Henry suddenly and at some volume blurted on over-hearing talk of such, snapping out of whatever about the room brought on that far-away look. Barton Bartlett, hearing Wayne's less than direct and somewhat unconstructed queery from all the way over at the side of the room, again struggled to keep in a giggle.

Tinker, on whose shoulder Bartlett's less than steady hand was clasped, sighed a little, and with half a shake of his head suggested that they should investigate the buffet. Sir Henry hadn't seen any need for his companions to eat during the brief stop in British Colombia.

The two Junior Grade Civil Servants began picking at the buffet, Tinker looking very cautious, almost suspicious of everything he didn't immediately recognise, while Bartlett adopted a one-of-everything method of deduction. "Cultural experience, my man!" He mumbed through a mouthful of..several things. "There's a cow over there." Barton casually added.

Takeo walked back into the room and made a line to the buffet, arguing made him a little hungry and he started picking at what food was on the table before heading to look out one of the windows and nibble at the plate.

Jeff straightened his tie and gave his best grin before walking back through the hall and into the room a few minutes after Takeo did. He glanced around and slid over to the bar, "Scotch on the rocks, double." he told the bartender.

"Ahhhh yes," Katherine said, "His great fear of flying. I've seen that before. But he was more eager to be with you.

"The IanCorp version of James' rear? What? Do they Photoshop it or something? Or do they have a photo of his... ahem... 'good side'?" Katherine asked with a grin.

"Now what's deeper for your concern? Why do you think you might not love him?"

Christin laughed for a moment, still staring at her drink and fell deeper into contemplation. "I suppose that's really IanCorp's fault too," she whispered. "I try and keep up with what's going on in the Commonwealth - it's all so foreign to me - and I happened to notice an editorial in the Star-Tribune about a month ago. I know that you and Jeff gave me that key, and James that bit of sand in Dianatran, but still, I'm just common-born to him. Honestly, I've seen that bit so many times it doesn't bother me anymore.

"But this one wasn't the same 'she's not good enough for the High King' bit. This guy said I was a gold-digger; that all I wanted was money, power and fame." She shook her head. "I didn't show it to James, though he may have seen it anyways...I guess I should have, but it made me think: what if that's true and I just don't know it? What if I don't really love him at all..." She broke off with a choked back sob. "I..I'm sorry, Kate. I know this is the last thing you need to have dropped on you."

-----

"Brandy!" replied Sir Richard with a laugh, motioning Roberto to Dr. Niven's table. Some other, more prudish party members sniffed at the shouting, as it was terribly rude.

Any time Civic Starcow made a motion over towards the buffet, servents could be seen removing all the meat from sight under various decorations, only to set them out again when she moved away.

Christin laughed for a moment, still staring at her drink and fell deeper into contemplation. "I suppose that's really IanCorp's fault too," she whispered. "I try and keep up with what's going on in the Commonwealth - it's all so foreign to me - and I happened to notice an editorial in the Star-Tribune about a month ago. I know that you and Jeff gave me that key, and James that bit of sand in Dianatran, but still, I'm just common-born to him. Honestly, I've seen that bit so many times it doesn't bother me anymore.

"But this one wasn't the same 'she's not good enough for the High King' bit. This guy said I was a gold-digger; that all I wanted was money, power and fame." She shook her head. "I didn't show it to James, though he may have seen it anyways...I guess I should have, but it made me think: what if that's true and I just don't know it? What if I don't really love him at all..." She broke off with a choked back sob. "I..I'm sorry, Kate. I know this is the last thing you need to have dropped on you."

Katherine stood up and sat down on the arm of the chair and put her arm gently around Christin's shoulder. "You just answered your own question," she said with a soft smile. "You'd know if you were a gold-digger, that's not a choice you make subconsciously. You'd know if you were intentionally craving and looking for that. After all, how many gold-diggers would want to stay out of the media spotlight? How many gold-diggers would steal a plane and fly to another country against orders to be with someone?"

Christin hated it when she cried, and did her best now to prevent it, though she was not quite able to turn a sniffle into a chuckle. "Not many, I guess," she replied, the effort of speaking almost breaking her defense fully.

Katherine smiled at Christin's response, "There, you see. Let them say what they want to. You know in your heart how you feel, you know you're not a gold-digger, especially since stealing that plane would cost you probably more than James has," she winked.

She looked at Christin trying to keep from crying. "Come on, let's get you to a bedroom or someplace where you can freshen up."

"Thanks, Kate," Christin managed to smile, a lone tear finally bubbling over and slowly tracing a line down her cheek. She got up slowly, a tad unsteadily at first, but soon regained her composure and took one glance back at James and the Empress. "Yes, I think I probably should...there's a bathroom just outside the Hall," she said, most of the quiver out of her voice.

Katherine dabbed the tear quickly, "It's all right," she said, subtly steadying Christin. "I'll walk out with you, you know how it is with guys anyway, they always wonder why we go to the bathrooms in groups anyway, better to not spoil the mystique," she smiled.

Christin laughed. "You know, James was just asking me about that yesterday," she said. "I told him there was a big screen TV in there. I suppose that's one nice thing about Iansisle - all my old jokes are brand new here." She found her way to the bathroom, which was fortunatly empty.

"Y'know, I never used to wear makeup much," she commented offhand as she fixed her own. "Only on special occasions and the such. It was such a hassle the rest of the time. James insists he doesn't care one way or the other, but I know there's a thousand punks with notepads out there, waiting to report on any slip up I make." She shook her head. "I must love him to put up with all this."

"There you go! Another reason to love Iansisle!" Katherine chuckled as she touched up her own makeup.

She listened for a minute, "Exactly, you have to to do what you do, to put up with what you have to for the two of you to be happy together," she said with a smile.

-----

Dr. Niven sits down with Tri and Roberto, "Gentlemen, how are you this evening? Nice party don't you think?" he asked as he handed the two men cigars.

Konoko saw the men gathered by teh bar. Most of them a bit to old for her taste. She walked over anyways, and nodded at the bartender. "Sake."
___

"Your highness," the Empress started, "I wish to thank you for not going with America on the oil and steel embargo on my nation. I know that we share a relationship, your enemy is my ally, but rest ashured, I will see to it that no Iansisleanian forces come to any harm in the Pacific theatre. Alos, at the appropriate time, I would like to set up an exclusive contract with Iansisleanian corporations for purchase of steal, oil, coal, and other goods."

"Ma'am? I'm not a ma'am, but of course I'd be honored to dance with you handsome man", Civic replies to Rumbiak, rather surprised to discover that he was the first man not to gasp in amazement when seeing her for the first time.
"Do you know how to dance tango?"
She then walked torwards the stage and whispered something to the head musician of the band. Suddenly, the low music was replaced by famous tango song "Por una cabeza", by Carlos Gardel.

"Shall we dance?", she asked to Rumbiak....

Markus bows to Jeff as the man leaves for an urgent word with his president, and begins to head in Javin's direction. But first, he thinks, a rather stiff drink. Getting a large gin and tonic from the bar, he is surprised to see that Civic Starcow has managed to convince the band to strike up a tango.

Right then. Time to scandalize the natives.

With a deep bow to the Hell Bovine diplomat, he takes her by the ... hoof? ... and walks with her to the dance floor. On the way, he grabs two cocktail napkins: one green, one red.

Markus is a little worried about this dance. Not because it might offend anyone -- he's pretty sure he's given offence already and only been saved from doing worse by the smooth manners of the Larkinian ambassador -- but because he's not as young as he used to be. He can still manage to dip a human woman as the tango requires, but is concerned that a giant talking cow may be tougher for him. Mentally, he tries to calculate the body weight of a six-foot tall cow. If onyl it wasn't rude to aska lady her weight.

"Your highness," the Empress started, "I wish to thank you for not going with America on the oil and steel embargo on my nation. I know that we share a relationship, your enemy is my ally, but rest ashured, I will see to it that no Iansisleanian forces come to any harm in the Pacific theatre. Alos, at the appropriate time, I would like to set up an exclusive contract with Iansisleanian corporations for purchase of steal, oil, coal, and other goods."

James bowed his head slightly. “I thank you for your kind words, Empress. I’m afraid that my own ability to guarantee executive action is somewhat, er, more limited than it has been in the past. However, nonetheless, I shall - if you desire - sponsor a representative of yours to speak to the Combined Parliament with the full backing of the crown.

“In the meantime, I shall do everything in my power to make sure that Japanese nationals living in Gallaga, Galla-China, Chiang Maï, Borneo, and the other states of the Pacific war come to no harm. And I must thank you again for your kind foresight in these matters, highness.”

Not bad for one so out of practice in matters of state, James old boy, he congratulated himself

----

In the meantime, the party seemed to let out a collective gasp as Por una Cabeza started.

Iansislean high society was still struggling to make good the occasional presence of sentient, bipedal cows at court functions, and Hell Bovinian sexuality simply wasn’t something they were ready for. A ripple of discontent mumbling flew among the more reactionary elements of the crowd. However, very little was done to stop the spectacle, as most preferred not to try and interrupt a 600 pound dancing steer.

Markus bows to Jeff as the man leaves for an urgent word with his president, and begins to head in Javin's direction. But first, he thinks, a rather stiff drink. Getting a large gin and tonic from the bar, he is surprised to see that Civic Starcow has managed to convince the band to strike up a tango.

Right then. Time to scandalize the natives.

With a deep bow to the Hell Bovine diplomat, he takes her by the ... hoof? ... and walks with her to the dance floor. On the way, he grabs two cocktail napkins: one green, one red.

Markus is a little worried about this dance. Not because it might offend anyone -- he's pretty sure he's given offence already and only been saved from doing worse by the smooth manners of the Larkinian ambassador -- but because he's not as young as he used to be. He can still manage to dip a human woman as the tango requires, but is concerned that a giant talking cow may be tougher for him. Mentally, he tries to calculate the body weight of a six-foot tall cow. If onyl it wasn't rude to aska lady her weight.

As the two dancers went to the middle of the floor, Civic was smiling - It was the first time she danced with a human. He saw Markus - She was worried of hurting him because his body, compared to her 570 pounds, seemed to be fragile.

As they danced, many of the people of the room looked at them in amazement. Who can blame them, after all? A 2-metre-tall bovinoid dancing tango with a man wearing a huge bird feather on his suit's front pocket is not a common sight.

As they danced, Civic showed much more agility than the expected for a square-sized hell bovine. A low mumblimg could be heard, mainly from the iansilean 'elite', critisizing the bravery of the two dancers, but the rest of the people seemed to enjoy the show and the twists and moves the dancers made, also, many people found the dance hillarious.

As the music continued, the two of them begun to feel tired, specially Markus, whose right foot was badly damaged after his bovinian partner had accidentaly stepped on it with her hoof. It was in this moment when Civic said:
"You are a good dancer indeed, friend. I feel honored by your company. But I'm getting really tired with all this dance and I'm sure you are too.
What do you say if I buy you a drink at the bar and we rest a while there?"

Jeff smiled at Rumbiak danced the tango with Civic Starcow.

She was able to get the musicians to play the tango, I didn't think they even knew how to play it, playing the waltz all the damn time. Maybe if I got some sheet music of Jimi Hendrix they'd play something... he grinned.

Jeff grinned even more listening to the murmur through the Iansislian Elite. He saw Katherine and Christin walk out to freshen up, he hoped Christin was all right, she seemed upset.

Konoko sipped her drink, and looked out towards the band, and then towards the men sititng drinking brandy. Her eyes trailed over them, looking for the right one to approach.
___

The Empress bowed in thanks. "That would be most excellent. While I will be the first to admit that I do not agree with the ways of Hitler and Musilini, I must say taht they have promised great things for my humble Empire, and have provided."

She sighed, almost disapointedly. "Maybe things will soon change. Maybe."

OOC: If ya all got time, take a chance to read over my 'I Nuked Paris, I nuked France' thread, and tell me what ya think.

"Doctor, it has been too long. We really must meet together more often", he said, accepting the cigar. "So far it seems like a very nice party indeed, but such things never seem to last long enough".

As Sir Henry took his time fumbling with the monocle that would presently help him to find the bar, the two junior civil servants stood near the buffet, chewing slowly and almost open mouthed as they regarded the much noted dancers.

"I.."
"I..don't see any Axis types around here.. keeping company like this.. the Ians and we.. we must.. we can't really loose, can we?"
"..God only knows."

Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne eventually made his way to the bar, scrutinising the eyepiece as he went. "Damned thing must be poorly cut.. I can't see a thing.." He muttered, quite unready to accept that his once keen safari-going eyes might be faltering. In fact, Sir Henry was perhaps not so old as some might think for a man of his position, wealth, and history. He was only in his mid twenties when the Second Cape War took him to Lake Kariba and to the discovery of Mavis Falls in the pacification of what was to become Waynesia, and this was all but twenty years ago.

It was well for the empire that Walmington had dodged the big one as they refered to the last European war, for Sir Henry would have been at the younger end of the generation wiped out.

It was less well for the tens of thousands of Africans who later took up muskets against Sir Henry's artillery, machineguns, tanks, bombers, and mustard gas.*

Snapping out of nostalgic reminisce, Sir Henry firmly planted his hands on the bar, and requested a large gin and a pint of cider, ice in the cider of course.


*ooc:That all looks a bit like a tangent.. and.. well, it is. Heh. :oops: But Sir Henry I expect, as the richest man in the three-continent-touching Walmingtonian Empire, would be known in reputation to the many educated sorts likely to be on hand- though the exact scale of the slaughter in the Second Cape War is little known, as Sir Henry was a bit of a Kitchener when it came to the press during his campaign.

"Doctor, it has been too long. We really must meet together more often", he said, accepting the cigar. "So far it seems like a very nice party indeed, but such things never seem to last long enough".

"Yes it has been too long," Niven smiled, lighting his own cigar. "This is a quiet party, compared to what we are used to," he added with a wink.

"How have you been, Roberto?"

"Oh, busy, busy, busy as they say. Pretty healthy, though some trouble sleeping. Not much to be concerned about", he said holding the unlit cigar. He had long since quit that vice. "And you?"

(I'd just like to apologize for my lack of participation today. I had a rather full day, and am now a little too tired to do much proper writing. Hopefully tomorrow, though I'm afraid I can't commit to a time. Once again, I'm sorry, everyone.)

ooc: Its alright, today I'm going to be really busy. Got some family things and a date tonight...so idk if I can post that much either.

OOC: Continuing the trend, I wont be doing much RP till much later, as teh vehicle formally known as my Sentra is now sitting in the impound...

OOC: And to carry on the trend, I've got to finish my christmas shopping and I have a date tonigh... wait a sec, I'm chained to my desk at work all night and she's in Chicago.. damn you all and your exciting lives! ;)

OOC From Kajiraki->No one told me it was illeagaly to not pay tickets....

OOC From Imitora->And I'm stuck here at Kajirakis computer taking care of his sister while he tries to get his car back. I honestly believe that this happened cuz you bought those crappy Giovani racing wheels, and not the Katanas or Enkeis...

IC:

[With Kaji's permision...oh how the fun flows...]

While the Empress was busy with James, Konoko observed the groups. Her eyes fell on Jeff first. Married, well, that never stopped me before, but he has kids, and that just wouldn't be nice. She then moved her eyes over to the admiral. I can only go so old, and thats pushing the limits right there.

She then observed Rumbiak and the cow. To flamboyent, and I dont date dinner she thought, supresing a smile. She sipped her sake, and eyed up some of the gaurds. [OOC: Its time Wheathers had a bit more excitement in his life...] She stood up from the chair, and began walking over to the king's men.

She put a little sway in her hips, and a little bounce in her step. There was no seductive click of heels, as her flat souled sandals were designed for running silently. Her clothing hugged her frame, and she rested her left arm over her Ninja-to.

She winked at one of the gaurds, and smiled. "Ever date a ninja?" she asked to no one gaurd in particular, in accented but perfect English. "Some say we're the real ultimate power..."

OOC: And now the return of Celeborne....

Niven looks up form his greatly deminished tray of seafood and looks around the room Jeff, we need to talk. Kate will deliver in the next few days and we need to have a room ready. He smiles with admiration at many of the ladies in the room and relaxes into his favored over stuffed chair "Weathers, some brandy if you please" Just to see if the old trick works...

Fuellertim House
Dirwisham, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

“Are you sure this is wise?” asked Edward Tarriff, checking over his shoulder for what seemed like the hundredth time. The Earl of Dirwisham, Conservative Coalition Chief Whip and leader of the Conservation Party, reclined slightly in his desk chair, considering his guest. Tarriff coughed slightly into his hand, causing his big mustache to blow out to both sides. “Er, what I mean is,” continued the duffery Gadsanian after a minute, “is that every moment we give them is one more lackey they install high in the government. Give those Liberals too much longer, and we’ll find the entire country driven into the ground!”

“Everything, Mr. Tarriff, depends on your definition of ‘driven into the ground,’” replied Dirwisham cryptically after a moment’s quiet. The two just sat there for another moment, before Tarriff discovered that Dirwisham expected him to comment on what his definition of ‘driven into the ground’ was.

“Er, well, as you know, they’ve replaced Baron Linhower as First Lord of the Admiralty...” started Tarriff, trailing off in the hope that Dirwisham would show some sort of appreciation of the gravity of that situation. Instead, the cryptic Shadoranite simply lounged in his chair, waiting for Tarriff to continue. “And, er, you know how helpful Sir Richard has been, and he is the First Sea Lord and all...”

“I agree that Sir Richard has been most helpful,” cut in Dirwisham suddenly sitting upright. He let Tarriff squirm while he selected a cigar from his box, cut the end, and took a slow puff. “However, I don’t believe that the Liberals will soon be interfering with the naval board, or any other military commanders. Even if they should be foolish enough to do so, it would only be to our advantage.

“Erm, beg your pardon, m’lord, but how on earth could it be to our advantage? If they start mucking around with the military command, there’s no telling what...”

“Yes there is,” said Dirwisham, not bothering to apologize for cutting Tarriff off again. “The military would be outraged and the public would be suspicious. After all, right now there isn’t a non-Shieldian in the navy above the rank of junior grade captain. What would you think if some no-name Tharian suddenly made a leap from the commander of a leaky light cruiser or destroyer all the way to Grand Admiral and First Sea Lord?”

“Er, I’d be a little suspicious,” admitted Tarriff, puffing out his mustache again.

“More than a little suspicious, and you can bet IanCorp would milk it for every cent it was worth. Now, even supposing they’re not that stupid, and grabbed an actual flag officer to replace Tri, what good would it do? The Second through Fifth Sea Lords and every sea-going officer are every bit as conservative as he is, and it’s not usually a good idea to shake up the Admiralty in the middle of a war.” Dirwisham paused to take a deep drag on the cigar.

“Then, even assuming they managed to get some lackey into command position without causing a public lynching, how would they turn that to their advantage? Morale in the fleet is already hanging by a thread; if they did that, captains would refuse orders and crews would mutiny. The entire war effort would fall apart, and IanCorp would soon let the public in on just who was responsible. The government would be lucky if it wasn’t dragged out of Jameston Place by a mob and drawn and quartered.” He shook his head.

“All right,” conceded Tarriff, the Earl’s condescending tone digging deeply into him. “Even if we’re not hovering on the brink of disaster, why shouldn’t we turn the situation into a glorious victory?”

“Because, my good sir, we are right now in a unique position,” explained Dirwisham as if to a small child. “They are busy grasping at the shadow of power, when we hold the substance. The Liberal Coalition may hold the official plurality, but we hold the actual one! Between my coalition any your party, we can out vote them, even if they persuade that Noropian scum to jump on their bandwagon. We can checkmate their every move, and when the public is finally fed up with their incompetence, we can call for another general election. The Liberals will fall apart, and some convincing campaigning on our part will ensure a resounding victory at the polls for us. Then we can govern not as a slight plurality, but as a solid, strong majority.”

“What about Dhawan?” asked Tarriff, narrowing his eyes. He may not have much of a head for military affairs, but he was keen on identifying potential political rivals. “Commonwealth is still a force to be reckoned with, and that man’s dangerous.”

“However dangerous he may be, he is still just a Galler. We just have to remind the people of that. After six or so months languishing under the lackadaisical grip of a kulliker, there’ll be a massive kickback against non-Shieldian parties. They’ll want someone from the Empire itself, not any half-baked colony or overblown Dominion.” Dirwisham stood and opened his arms. “They’ll be ready for us. Now come; the party’s already started, and we don’t want to disappoint the High King!”

------

Castle Dun Adien
Outside Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

The party seems to be going well thought one Private Weathers, K.I.G., glancing about the Great Hall. Sure, Civic and Markus’ dance had caused some raised eyebrows, but he didn’t mind a little domestic disturbance, so long as the foreign crowd stayed happy.

He saw Konoko coming from half a mile away and did his level best to ignore her. Eyes straight ahead, Weathers he thought, trying to concentrate his thoughts on a certain Ziobian maiden. He saw her angling straight at him, and forced his mind to non-sexual matters. Whatever she says, have either a witty, noncommittal response, he decided. The only problem with that plan was that nothing came to mind.

When her eventual question came, Weather’s mind totally blanked. “I...can’t say...erm...there’s this...” he started, not entirely sure where he planned to go with the thought. All of a sudden...

"Weathers, some brandy if you please"

“Er, excuse me!” he exclaimed, perhaps never so happy about the doctor’s drink request. He scurried away, grabbing a brandy from a nearby waiter and appearing at Niven’s elbow in near record time. “Here ya go, m’lord,” he grinned, not even sweating.

----

The bartender looked up at the rather unusual order, blinking in sudden recognition. It certainly wasn’t his job to gush at the hundreds of dignitaries who passed through Dun Adien, but Sir Henry held a singular place in the hearts of the Iansislean working class. After all, Iansisle’s empire had been settled for longer than anyone could remember - Palau, the last bit added, was officially annexed in 1842. While Dianatran still provided more exercise than the First Lancers would like, despite the glorification of their campaigns deep in the desert, there were very few real ‘heroes of the Empire’ from the drawn out guerrilla war. In fact, the only real domestic hero Iansisle had had in recent years was Sir Thomas Gurney, and he also happened to be a martyr.

As a result, the Second Cape War was followed extensively in the Commonwealth, with most rooting for the march of civilization, of course, and Sir Henry Wayne had become somewhat of a folk hero. Most of the upper class disagreed with the adventurism he represented, but IanCorp had noticed the appeal he held for the common folk and marketed him aggressively to the Commonwealth, perhaps without Wayne’s notice and certainly without bothering to gain his approval.

At any rate, the barkeeper, who had been excited ever since Wayne’s name was announced, nearly dropped the glass he’d been nonchalantly scrubbing. “Oh, Sir Henry, sir!” he exclaimed, quickly recovering enough to take a firmer hold of the glass, but not quite enough to avoid redundancy. “At once, and with my pleasure!” He quickly gathered the requested materials, trying not to look too excited, but failing miserably at that.

Meanwhile, across the room, “Member of Parliament Mister Hiresh Dhawan!” was announced.

Staggering off the dance floor, Markus contemplated his injured foot. Those who dance with a cow, often end up saying ow. It might have shocked some of the courtiers, but anything to strengthen the alliance with Hell Bovines was worthwhile, he thought.

He looked about for pain killers, and settled on another gin instead, selecting a bloody mary for Civic and hobbling back to her with the glasses in hand. "Ambassadress," he said, sitting down, "you dance sublimely, with the grace of a thousand angels."

As Hiresh Dhawan was announced, Markus rose to his feet. He wondered how many here would do the same for their former Prime Minister. Given the complexions of most people in the room, he figured, not very many.

Javin and Takeo turned and looked to the entryway when Dhawan's name was announced.

"I didn't know he'd be here," Takeo said to Javin. "Let's see how he's doing!"

Jeff also stood and looked over to the doorway at the announcement and saw Takeo and Javin walk toward him. He sipped his gin and tonic and planned to talk with Dhawan later, but didn't want to have to deal with Takeo again, if he could help it.

Sir Henry raised an eyebrow, evidently not yet used to being received with such enthusiasm- after twenty years passing between today and the last Cape War, the Wayne novelty had begun to wear off in Walmington, except maybe on his trips to the country, which was perhaps why he spent so much time there.

That was also why he had become ever more prone to over the top adventuring, but perhaps now he was begining to realise that his past celebrity was enough outside of Walmington. Perhaps he would spend his time in places like Iansisle, soaking up their admiration, rather than trudging about Africa and other difficult places in search of renewed Walmingtonian respect.

The brow stayed risen while Wayne knocked back the gin, having done so before the bartender even turned around with the cider.

While it was true that such behaviour could soon drunken Sir Henry, it was also the case that his sober countenance was not all that different anyway.

Knowing this, Barton Bartlett, observing from afar, concluded Sir Henry best left to it, and turned his attention in the direction of the arriving Dhawan, in whom the working class civil servant had some interest. Bartlett edged forwards to get a good look, noticing the risen Tanah Burung as he did.

Walmington didn't talk much of either character. The former represented a perceived threat to the WoS status quo in which no native of the far-flung empire would ever rise to such a lofty position as had he, and the latter.. well he just scared the few Tory government officials who had heard anything of him...shuffling quietly (in the hopes that his associate would somehow fail to notice) towards Markus, Barton was terribly interested to know why..

"Hmph," Konko sighed, walking away. Maybe it was the approach. She'd work on somethign else before teh night was over.

OOC: sorry but thats all I got for tonihgt. Me and Imitora have certain plans for a certain turbocharged Eclipse...

The air in the room did indeed change slightly with Dhawan’s entrance. Not a few shot him unfriendly glares. Over near the bar, he noticed Markus rise, and filed away the face for future reference. Slowly, he walked away from the door, only foreigners rising at his entrance, and certainly no one coming forward to greet him. He darted his eyes over the crowd, picking out particular future sore spots, such as Grand Admiral Tri or the High King. With a slow, methodical pace, Dhawan walked from the entrance towards the bar. He only half noted Sir Henry getting drunk; after all, twenty years ago, he had been busy working the Company’s docks in Nusheld and seeking the means to acquire passage to Ianapalis.

Not three steps across the room, he noticed an all too familiar man with dark black hair and bronzed skin approaching him. Dhawan turned slowly, neither man approaching any closer. At last, the other stepped forward and extended his hand. “Hello, Mr. Dhawan. I’m Alfredo D’Carlonia, and I must say it’s a pleasure to have your attendance tonight.” The words sounded welcoming enough, and there was no camaraderie in the other’s eyes. And the introduction was really unneeded; Dhawan had met the leader of the Tharian Secessionist Party often enough in the past.

“Mr. D’Carlonia,” greeted Dhawan in perfect Iansislean English, any trace of his old Gallagan accent having long since been washed away. He couldn’t quite bring himself to call the Tharian ‘Prime Minister.’ “It’s a pleasure to be allowed to attend.”

The other saw the fire in Dhawan’s eyes and smiled softly. “It’s the least we could do for one who has served his king and country so faithfully.” Though D’Carlonia’s inflection smacked of genuine respect, Dhawan hadn’t climbed so high in Iansislean politics without knowing that the voice could lie. He had long ago mastered the art of speaking, and recognized how easily they could be manipulate. No, he could see the smug sense of victory and condescension in the other’s eyes, and it was all he could do to contain the sense of rage burning within him.

“I thank you for your kind words, Mr. D’Carlonia, and offer you my most humble congratulations on your party’s victory.” Dhawan was also careful to intone his voice disarmingly for the benefit of any IanCorp bugs in the room, but put enough fire into his eyes to let even D’Carlonia’s less trained vision to pick up on it. The other’s soft smile took a sharper tilt and he nodded.

“Thank you, Mr. Dhawan. We can only hope to live up to the standards maintained under your own.” D’Carlonia made an elaborate, but believable, show of checking his watch, and gave Dhawan a shrug. “I’m afraid that I have left my wife to come greet you, and you know women: leave them alone too long, and they’ll be running off with the first Noropian they happen across!”

The sexist joke, perfectly acceptable in backwards Iansislean society, was met with a laugh calculated to inject mirth even though there was none. “Attend to your lady, Mr. D’Carlonia, and I hope to see you later,” chuckled Dhawan, patting his replacement on the left shoulder and turning back towards the bar. A brief flash of distaste washed over his face, but it was quickly clamped down on. Mastery of the facial emotions was much harder than that of the vocal, and it was still an art Hiresh Dhawan needed practice at.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the room, James had excused himself from the Empress, and picked his way over to where Jeff was standing near the bar. “A shot of whiskey,” he ordered, noting Sir Henry down the bar. He had resolved to meet the plucky Walmingtoner, but right now there were more important things on his mind.

“What did President Katana want to talk about?” he asked after a moment, watching Dhawan enter and greet D’Carlonia. There was little love lost between the crown and the former Prime Minister, and James’ contempt for the Gallagan radiated from him until he forced himself to concentrate on his genuine worry for Jeff. “They’re not trying to take you away from us again, are they?” he asked with a smile, hoping that a simple manipulation of the mouth would keep Jeff’s answer in the negative.

“What did President Katana want to talk about?” he asked after a moment, watching Dhawan enter and greet D’Carlonia. There was little love lost between the crown and the former Prime Minister, and James’ contempt for the Gallagan radiated from him until he forced himself to concentrate on his genuine worry for Jeff. “They’re not trying to take you away from us again, are they?” he asked with a smile, hoping that a simple manipulation of the mouth would keep Jeff’s answer in the negative.

Dr. Niven's thought hit Jeff quickly before Dhawan was announced, Anytime now?

Jeff forced a smiled as D’Carlonia walked over to talk with Dhawan, he hoped their conversation was fruitful, or cordial at least after watching the two men's facial expressions. Maybe he could take up D'Carlonia on his idea of running for the C.C.P. after all...

His smile warmed as James walked over. "President Katana? He was... just reminding me about my duties to Larkinia," he said before sipping his drink.

No reason to ruin the festive atmosphere, he thought for a moment.

"So how are you doing?" Jeff asked him, semi-desperate to change the subject.

Knowing this, Barton Bartlett, observing from afar, concluded Sir Henry best left to it, and turned his attention in the direction of the arriving Dhawan, in whom the working class civil servant had some interest. Bartlett edged forwards to get a good look, noticing the risen Tanah Burung as he did.

Walmington didn't talk much of either character. The former represented a perceived threat to the WoS status quo in which no native of the far-flung empire would ever rise to such a lofty position as had he, and the latter.. well he just scared the few Tory government officials who had heard anything of him...shuffling quietly (in the hopes that his associate would somehow fail to notice) towards Markus, Barton was terribly interested to know why..

Markus watched the current and former Prime Ministers of Iansisle converse, hoping for a chance to speak later with one or both of them. Iansislean politics, frankly, made his head spin. Or perhaps that was the gin.

Scanning the crowd, he noticed a Walmingtonian man moving in his direction. Well, he'd been told to make diplomatic contacts. And although Walmington-on-Sea, from what he knew of it, was not a prime candidate to be a friend of his government, a contact was a contact. He strode over to the man, bowed with a flourish, and stuck out his hand. "Markus Rumbiak, dancing fool. Quite a party our hosts have arranged, isn't it?"

"I suppose my country will have to host the Capodanno party", he said lazily. "It is a good thing that my children are too old for Beffana and Babbo Natale."

His smile warmed as James walked over. "President Katana? He was... just reminding me about my duties to Larkinia," he said before sipping his drink.

"So how are you doing?" Jeff asked him, semi-desperate to change the subject.

"I'm doing great, Jeff, but if you think for one second that I'm going to let you get away with that trick, you're very mistaken, sir." James tried to maintain his smile for a time, but it soon slipped away into concern. "Seriously, Jeff, I know you too well not to be worried. He hasn't recalled you for Navy duty again, has he?"

----

"Er, beg pardon?" blinked Admiral Tri, arching an eyebrow at Roberto.

Smiling, Barton Bartlett, Civil Servant Junior Grade shook Rumbiak's hand and introduced himself, adding that it was indeed a pleasure to have the chance to associate with folk of such varied politics at the party.

(Though Bartlett is not really capable of fully understanding yet alone explaining it, WoS may to some appear a little more harsh a place than it really is. Many of the issues that might raise political and especially civil rights have rather washed over the government and the people too. For example, while most even in the Tory government would probably oppose such things as pervasive surveillance cameras and certainly bar-coding of citizens, the issue has been persistantly brushed aside.. after all, we haven't actually completed our first computer yet- there is no need to ban electronic tagging or such. As a result many opportunities to raise UN ratings are ignored. [/mild if long-winded disclaimer])

He let out a slight chuckle. "I'm sorry, I sometimes forget that Agrigentian customs are not exactly....mainstream internationally. Well Capodanno is, of course, New Year's Day. As for Beffana and Babo Natale, they are fictional characters. Babo Natale is mostly akin to the commonplace Saint Nicholas. Beffana, now that is another custom we share with our motherland. We celebrate two christmas-es, so to speak. One for the birth of Jesus, Natale, and another one when the 3 Kings were said to have arrived."

Tri understood the literal Capodanno to New Years conversion, and nodded in interest. However, the notion of two Christmasses through him for a slight loop. The Admiral decided that, rather than strain his brain, a change of subject might be in order. "It's quite all right, Roberto. I'm certainly never opposed to having my own personal store of worldly facts increased," he chuckled, taking a brief sip of brandy. "Speaking of which, I don't believe I've ever been to Agrigento. Was that offer of an, er, 'Capodanno' party a serious one?"

"Certainly, I am sure that Mario is scrambling right now. When it comes to parties he is not to be outdone by someone from Iansisle"

"If not, I will have you at my villa...", he added with a smile.

"I'm doing great, Jeff, but if you think for one second that I'm going to let you get away with that trick, you're very mistaken, sir." James tried to maintain his smile for a time, but it soon slipped away into concern. "Seriously, Jeff, I know you too well not to be worried. He hasn't recalled you for Navy duty again, has he?"

"You're not gonna fall for it are you?" Jeff winked. "Well damn."

Jeff sipped his gin and tonic, "He's not going to send me to sea... I don't think. Especially with Katherine expecting anytime now."

Besides, that's not his style, it's too direct and straight-forward.

"Although some merchant ships have been attacked by submarines recently. I will need to go to Larkinia after Conner is born, have to talk with Parliament there..." [mumble mumble...]*

* Javin will be serving as temporary Ambassador to Iansisle until I return...

Edit: Jeff saw James' reaction, "Please, keep it quiet here. It'll be OK, just for a few days, a week at the outside," he said reassuringly.

Tri laughed. "I should look forward to it greatly, in that case. However," he swung a hand around the party, "I'm afraid we won't be quite so easy to outdo as this! From someone who's attended his fair share of Galas, just wait until tomorrow!..." Tri continued to explain about the traditions of the Gala, since its inception under High King Ian III, throught the modern day. One bit in particular may catch any ears near the bar, as Tri wasn't known for his soft voice.

"...and of course, men from all the colonies, dominions, and the East Gallaga Company parade about pay tribute to the High King. I've heard that the Company managed to transport an elephant all the way from Gallaga to present to James..."

"...and of course, men from all the colonies, dominions, and the East Gallaga Company parade about pay tribute to the High King. I've heard that the Company managed to transport an elephant all the way from Gallaga to present to James..."

Jeff winked at James, glad for the possibility to change the topic, "An elephant?? Where in the hell are you going to keep that beast hiding in this castle?? Maybe downstairs on a treadmill to create extra electricity in Dun Adien?" he grinned.

Jeff sipped his gin and tonic, "He's not going to send me to sea... I don't think. Especially with Katherine expecting anytime now."

"I should hope not! A life at sea is no place for an expecting father," scoffed James, not really thinking of the thousands of young men just like Jeff who manned Iansisle's Royal Navy.

"Although some merchant ships have been attacked by submarines recently.

James muttered something about 'the bloody Hun' before Jeff's next sentence cut him off mid-grumble.

I will need to go to Larkinia after Conner is born, have to talk with Parliament there..." [mumble mumble...]*

* Javin will be serving as temporary Ambassador to Iansisle until I return...

"What!?" thundered James, causing a few heads to turn his way. "Javin'll..."

Edit: Jeff saw James' reaction, "Please, keep it quiet here. It'll be OK, just for a few days, a week at the outside," he said reassuringly.

James took a deep breath to calm himself, then bent in close to Jeff. "Javin is the loudest mouthed, most insubordinate young whippersnapper I've ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on!" he whispered fiercely, though it may seem odd for a twenty four year old to call anyone a 'whippersnapper.' James shook his head. "I know it's not perminant, but Katana...pardon me, President Katana sounds like he's just trying to run his young brother out of the country quietly. Even if this isn't perminant, you can bet he'll try and attach Javin to your embassy, and he's the last thing we need talking to a liberal MoFA!"

Jeff winked at James, glad for the possibility to change the topic, "An elephant?? Where in the hell are you going to keep that beast hiding in this castle?? Maybe downstairs on a treadmill to create extra electricity in Dun Adien?" he grinned.

"An elephant?" asked James, the unexpected question breaking the rant he had built up. "What the devil..? Oh, the present from the EGC!" The sudden transition was so sudden that he didn't have time to come up with a properly witty respose and was left grasping at the truth. "Honestly, I expect I'll just donate it to the zoo. Mr. Tedders always insists on the most..."

He shook his head. "Hold on a minute...what's that got to do with the nefarious Katana brothers?"

"An elephant...", he said laughing. "Mr Corleone has quite an allergy to most animals. Thats why there are no attack dogs at the Villa Presidenziale."

"I should hope not! A life at sea is no place for an expecting father," scoffed James, not really thinking of the thousands of young men just like Jeff who manned Iansisle's Royal Navy.

Jeff nodded, "That's true, but at the same time, someone has to stand on the line protecting those families.

James took a deep breath to calm himself, then bent in close to Jeff. "Javin is the loudest mouthed, most insubordinate young whippersnapper I've ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on!" he whispered fiercely, though it may seem odd for a twenty four year old to call anyone a 'whippersnapper.' James shook his head. "I know it's not perminant, but Katana...pardon me, President Katana sounds like he's just trying to run his young brother out of the country quietly. Even if this isn't perminant, you can bet he'll try and attach Javin to your embassy, and he's the last thing we need talking to a liberal MoFA!"

Jeff glanced at the crowd that started to look at he and James, "Er... nothing wrong here folks, just a little... ummm.. Tourette's from his royal majesty," Jeff said motioning for the band to start playing something... anything! They looked at him confused, "never mind..."

"I'm sure he is the biggest pain in the ass," Jeff said. "I guess that's why they think he'd make a good ambassador somewhere.

"Regardless of his qualifications, Parliament saw fit to 'ask' me back to meet with them. I wish I knew why. But I'm sure it'll be all right."

"Hold on a minute...what's that got to do with the nefarious Katana brothers?"

"What indeed.... Hmmmm... damn... you got me there." Jeff chuckled sheepishly.

"An elephant...", he said laughing. "Mr Corleone has quite an allergy to most animals. Thats why there are no attack dogs at the Villa Presidenziale."

"Ah, I do feel sorry for him, then," said Tri, eager to point out the fact that Iansisle had at last made strides in the field of immunology, and now even the common man knew what allergies were. "I've only had the pleasure of traveling to Gallaga four times, " he continued, never able to keep the conversation away from himself for more than a few minutes, "and only outside of Nusheld once. However, that one time was a most enlightening journey up the Ganges on elephant-back." He took another quick sip of brandy before continuing. "They're really facinating beasts. I wanted to go tiger hunting, but we were overdue in Lucknow."

Jeff glanced at the crowd that started to look at he and James, "Er... nothing wrong here folks, just a little... ummm.. Tourette's from his royal majesty," Jeff said motioning for the band to start playing something... anything! They looked at him confused, "never mind..."

While royal outbursts at a foreign ambassador were certainly unusual, most had come to expect the unexpected in James' court. After a short while, most all eyes returned to their conversation mates, though perhaps a few more ears strained to pick up the conversation.

"What indeed.... Hmmmm... damn... you got me there." Jeff chuckled sheepishly.

James sighed, but managed to crack a weak smile. "Don't worry, Jeff. I have every confidence that everything will work out. I'm sorry I got so riled up: it really doesn't help anything."

"Anyhow, should worst comes to worst, I'm sure Admiral Tri would be able to find something for you to do about the Admiralty - Second Sea Lord, perhaps," James chuckled, before glancing at Mr. D'Carlonia. "Or maybe something far away from the military?"

'Yeah, that sounds nice," Jeff said with a grin. "Although, if you can keep this on the Q-T... the last thing Katherine needs to worry about is what's going to happen to me, what with the baby on the way and anything, and dad doesn't need to know that I might have failed as an ambassador. Besides, what's the worst thing they can do to me?"

Jeff smiled at his friend, "I appreciate the concern James, I really do. But it's Christmas, we need to celebrate the season and enjoy each other's company. And speaking of that..."

Jeff reached inside the tuxedo and pulled out a small wrapped box. He handed it over to James, "Merry Christmas."

'Yeah, that sounds nice," Jeff said with a grin. "Although, if you can keep this on the Q-T... the last thing Katherine needs to worry about is what's going to happen to me, what with the baby on the way and anything, and dad doesn't need to know that I might have failed as an ambassador. Besides, what's the worst thing they can do to me?"


James laughed. "I'm not sure I want to answer that! But I understand; I'll not breath a word to anyone." He glanced about where they were standing, where men quickly turned and pretended as if they weren't the least interested in what was going on between the High King and the Larkinian ambassador.

Jeff reached inside the tuxedo and pulled out a small wrapped box. He handed it over to James, "Merry Christmas."

"Aw, Jeff, you didn't have to," blushed James, accepting the box. "Thanks...I actually left yours over there, under the tree." He indicated the large pile of presents underneath it, before carefully opening the gift as if he intended to save the wrapping paper.

ooc: must...sleep

Goodnight all....sorry my participation upto this point has been half-assed.

ooc: must...sleep

Goodnight all....sorry my participation upto this point has been half-assed.

(Good night! And don't worry about it! The holidays are a busy time for everyone..I haven't been able to get on nearly as much as I want to, certainly, and I wouldn't dream of holding you to a double standard! Anyhow, get a good night's sleep...I may actually be konking off pretty soon (have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn and put up decorations for a Christmas Eve party...fun fun))

OOC: Ag, no worries! Heck, we all know you have a real life outside of NS, and we're all jealous of you because of that :P

IC: Jeff smiled at James, "Thanks, James. After all, it'll be a quick hop to Golden Agate, a day or two to talk with the powers that be, maybe get a little shopping in, then back here."

Jeff grinned as James unwrapped the wooden box. Inside was an antique silver pocket watch with two small diamonds on the hands. On the inside of the cover was inscribed:

To James,
The best brother anyone could ever ask for.

"It was my father's.. my biological father's I mean," Jeff said as James picked up the watch.

James slowly picked up the watch, smiling fondly at the inscription as the diamonds twinkled.

"It was my father's.. my biological father's I mean," Jeff said as James picked up the watch.

"Oh, Jeff, I couldn't!" started James, who knew how hard the loss of Jeff's father had hit him. Then he caught the look in Jeff's eyes, and knew there was no way he could convince him to take it back. "Jeff, this means so much to me; thank you. I promise I'll take the best care I can of it." He laughed softly. "I can see now why you're called 'the Hero of Time.'"

He glanced back at the tree, still holding the watch. "I know my gift can't really compare to this, Jeff, but I have to do something." He led Jeff over, and presented him with one medium sized and one smaller package, taped together, with the larger one on bottom. "Merry Christmas, brother."

"Oh, Jeff, I couldn't!" started James, who knew how hard the loss of Jeff's father had hit him. Then he caught the look in Jeff's eyes, and knew there was no way he could convince him to take it back. "Jeff, this means so much to me; thank you. I promise I'll take the best care I can of it." He laughed softly. "I can see now why you're called 'the Hero of Time.'"

He glanced back at the tree, still holding the watch. "I know my gift can't really compare to this, Jeff, but I have to do something." He led Jeff over, and presented him with one medium sized and one smaller package, taped together, with the larger one on bottom. "Merry Christmas, brother."

Jeff smiled as James looked at the watch, "Of course you can," he said softly. "You're welcome, James." He chuckled at the 'Hero of Time' comment.

"Hmmmm, OK," he continued as James led him over to the tree and handed him the gifts, "What do we have here?" he added with a wink as he gently opened the two boxes.

Jeff smiled as James looked at the watch, "Of course you can," he said softly. "You're welcome, James." He chuckled at the 'Hero of Time' comment.

"Hmmmm, OK," he continued as James led him over to the tree and handed him the gifts, "What do we have here?" he added with a wink as he gently opened the two boxes.

The top present was a simple wooden frame, containing a black-and-white picture of Jeff, James, Dr. Niven, Kate, Christin, and the twins. The words 'Our Family' were etched into the bottom of the frame.

"I know the worksmanship isn't the best," said James, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm actually having some classes in woodworking, and think I got a little over my head with this project...heh, the instructor said I should take it slow."

Jeff might recognize the picture as having been taken at Dun Adien's gate during the last big New Highlands Party, where Sir Talfryn was shot. Hence the second gift, which contained some dozen or so large sheets of construction paper, and was perhaps inspired by a conversation at that party. "This one isn't so much from me, per se," said James, "as a few teachers about the Commonwealth."

Looking at the top sheet, Jeff would see a crude rendering of a giant dragon, smoke billowing from its nose. Large, poorly formed letters formed the words 'To our hero: Merry Cristmas'. "Er, that one's actually misspelled," said James, looking over Jeff's shoulder with a grin. "But we get these every now and then at the Ministry of Education, and I though it would be nice to pass them along.

(oi...I think it's time for me to call it a night...before the night decides to call it a me...or something like that. ;))

Jeff looked at the picture closely and held the frame gently in his hands, "I think the craftsmanship is wonderful," he said with a smile. "Our family...." he said quietly.

Then he picked up the drawings from the schoolchildren, flipping through them slowly, each one making the smile on his face grow more. "Well, I think the least I can do is visit the schools and thank the children in person," he added softly. "I have just the places for these, on the mantle in the living room at home," he said.

"I think I know a couple of people who would like to see these also," Jeff said, nodding towards Dr. Niven and looking quickly for Katherine. "Then I guess we should get back to your guests, since you're the guest of honor and all that," he added with a wink.

(OOC: I'm out too, gotta get up early for a 14-hour day at work, I'll catch y'all tomorrow!)

Smiling, Barton Bartlett, Civil Servant Junior Grade shook Rumbiak's hand and introduced himself, adding that it was indeed a pleasure to have the chance to associate with folk of such varied politics at the party.

(Though Bartlett is not really capable of fully understanding yet alone explaining it, WoS may to some appear a little more harsh a place than it really is. Many of the issues that might raise political and especially civil rights have rather washed over the government and the people too. For example, while most even in the Tory government would probably oppose such things as pervasive surveillance cameras and certainly bar-coding of citizens, the issue has been persistantly brushed aside.. after all, we haven't actually completed our first computer yet- there is no need to ban electronic tagging or such. As a result many opportunities to raise UN ratings are ignored. [/mild if long-winded disclaimer])

[ooc: yeah, makes sense. I tend to dismiss the issues that give a chance to raise economic issues, although the country is finally on the road to economic improvement now.]

"Varied politics make life worth living," Markus laughs. "I have a soft spot, actually, for the old Tories of the English-speaking world. So much more compassion there than the cheerful cruelty of the 'invisible hand' crowd. But tell me, sir: do your colonial holdings call out for freedom yet?"

"Indeed the do, sir!" Exclaimed Bartlett, assuming that Markus spoke in reference to the armies of El Duce, the Fuhrer, and their cohorts as they crept across North Africa towards Walmingtonian and British holdings, or the Chiang Maians looming in Ceyloba's part of the world. "And more'n a hundred thousand of Walmington's finest are marching in their defence as we speak.

"We'll not leave it at their defence, of course. France, Poland, Scandinavia, the Balkans and the low countries bellow louder still for aid.." Barton paused for a moment as he considered that statement. "Well, the French not so much perhaps, but we understand that they mean it..deep down.

"It's a shame Sir Henry is retired, or he should have us liberate Berlin by Tuesday!" Barton finished, not making it entirely clear as to whether or not he was making a joke at Sir Henry's expense.

Markus smiles inwardly. Well, freedom of a sort, then. He decides to try again, bull-headed. "I am pleased to hear it, friend. The prayers of the world are with you, i'm sure of it, when your cause is just. And when war's ended in victory, will the colonial peoples be given their independence?"

Continuing for a moment to smile, Barton realised exactly what had been said just as he was opening his mouth to reply.

"Ah..." He stalled, mouth slightly open as his eyes sought a reasonable distraction. He really was rather taken aback -the Walmingtonians weren't accustomed to hiding their empire as most, Barton Bartlett included, hadn't considered that the colonies might want to be independent.

The young Civil Servant began to look terribly contemplative, still playing for time.

(ooc:Thankfully, I'm off for a time. I shall see you all later ;) )

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

To you also dude. Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to all, and peace and goodwill towards men (er... and women too ;) )

(Enough mushy stuff... who can we declare war on now? :P)

"Well, I think the least I can do is visit the schools and thank the children in person," he added softly. "I have just the places for these, on the mantle in the living room at home," he said.


"I'm sure that can be arranged, Jeff," James answered just as softly. "You're a hero to a lot of there kids, and most of their teachers too."

"I think I know a couple of people who would like to see these also," Jeff said, nodding towards Dr. Niven and looking quickly for Katherine. "Then I guess we should get back to your guests, since you're the guest of honor and all that," he added with a wink.

"Oi, don't remind me," grinned James, checking Jeff's father's watch (he was still having trouble thinking of it as 'his'). "Another ten minutes, and I can give a short speech to kick all these people off to bed." He considered for a second. "Of course, considering that means the Gala would have to start, I'm not so sure!"

He glanced over at Dr. Niven and Kate and blushed. "Well, I guess we ought to, yeah..." He was honestly kind of concerned that Dr. Niven, who in James' estimation could do anything, would also prove a better carpenter, and think James' work amatuerish.

EDIT: Merry Christmas, Ag, Lark, WoS, T.B., and anyone else I'm forgetting!

Merry everybody!

-takes a swing at Weathers-

"Well, I think the least I can do is visit the schools and thank the children in person," he added softly. "I have just the places for these, on the mantle in the living room at home," he said.


"I'm sure that can be arranged, Jeff," James answered just as softly. "You're a hero to a lot of there kids, and most of their teachers too."

"Yeah, maybe sometime after school starts up again and before my meeting in Larkinia. I still can't believe people actually look up to me," Jeff chuckled quietly.

"Oi, don't remind me," grinned James, checking Jeff's father's watch (he was still having trouble thinking of it as 'his'). "Another ten minutes, and I can give a short speech to kick all these people off to bed." He considered for a second. "Of course, considering that means the Gala would have to start, I'm not so sure!"

He glanced over at Dr. Niven and Kate and blushed. "Well, I guess we ought to, yeah..." He was honestly kind of concerned that Dr. Niven, who in James' estimation could do anything, would also prove a better carpenter, and think James' work amatuerish.

Jeff's eyes quickly scanned the room as he thought about the Gala starting. They flashed across Javin and Takeo who were talking next to Dhawan, anger flew threw them quickly before settling down.

"We don't have to start the Gala yet if you don't want to," Jeff said with a smile, "Besides, you've still got to figure out a place to put that elephant..."

Merry everybody!

-takes a swing at Weathers-

OOC: LOL, looks like Weathers' needs to start kicking some ass... ;)

James saw Jeff's eyes flash, and perhaps he got a little heated at the sight of Dhawan (the two had never gotten along), but he declined to say anything.

"Yeah," he said as the two headed slowly for where Kate and Christin's chairs (James didn't want to face Earl Niven quite yet) "That elephant is going to be a doozie. I figure I can just put a carriage on it and ride it about the realm."

(oh...Weathers is pissed! :P)

Jeff nodded, "that would be fun to see! The great High King/Rajah James surveying all he owns from the back of his trusty steed!"

As Jeff and James walked over to Christin and Katherine, Javin flagged down Jeff and walked over, "Can I have a moment of your time Admiral?"

Jeff looked uneasily at James then back at Javin, "Can this wait? I've had this discussion with your brother all ready, and I'm trying to enjoy myself."

Jeff walks past Javin, accidentally BUMPing him, and heads with James toward Katherine and Christin.

Jeff looked uneasily at James then back at Javin, "Can this wait? I've had this discussion with your brother all ready, and I'm trying to enjoy myself."

"Make way for the King-Emperor!" James laughed, crossing his arms. However, his jovial eyes narrowed upon sighting Javin, and he suddenly got very serious. "No, it's ok, Jeff. If you need to talk, then you do." James continued to glare at Javin.

(:oops: I meant to respond by now; really, I did! ;))

Jeff looked uneasily at James then back at Javin, "Can this wait? I've had this discussion with your brother all ready, and I'm trying to enjoy myself."

"Make way for the King-Emperor!" James laughed, crossing his arms. However, his jovial eyes narrowed upon sighting Javin, and he suddenly got very serious. "No, it's ok, Jeff. If you need to talk, then you do." James continued to glare at Javin.

(:oops: I meant to respond by now; really, I did! ;))

(No worries, you're just riveted to that Civil War thread, I can tell ;))

"No, it's OK your majesty," Javin said with a bow, "We'll have plenty of time to talk later."

Javin spun on his heel and walked away from the two of them.

(No worries, you're just riveted to that Civil War thread, I can tell ;))

"No, it's OK your majesty," Javin said with a bow, "We'll have plenty of time to talk later."

Javin spun on his heel and walked away from the two of them.

(Actually, I am! I'm just running out of ways to bump it and make fun of the MoFA at the same time ;))

James watched him stalk off. "Y'know," he said quietly, "I keep a list of people I don't mind pissing off, and Javin Katana is fairly high on it." He shook his head and waved at Christin.

(Actually, I am! I'm just running out of ways to bump it and make fun of the MoFA at the same time ;))

James watched him stalk off. "Y'know," he said quietly, "I keep a list of people I don't mind pissing off, and Javin Katana is fairly high on it." He shook his head and waved at Christin.

(Well, I'm sure you can get in on the fun, that's why I did that last broadcast from the choppers, ;) besides things are gonna get hairy soon for our intrepid hero and his team)

"I know what you mean," Jeff said as he walked with James. "So what did you get Christin for Christmas?"

OOC: Hey there! Merry Christmas to you all! :D
I have been quite busy so I didn't had time to post much, but now I will try to keep up with the rest of you.
Just give me a while: I have four pages to read! :?

(Well, I'm sure you can get in on the fun, that's why I did that last broadcast from the choppers, ;) besides things are gonna get hairy soon for our intrepid hero and his team)

(Right! I'll get my crack blustering team on it straight away!)

"I know what you mean," Jeff said as he walked with James. "So what did you get Christin for Christmas?"

"A partridge in a pear tree," winked James, trying to push all affairs of state from his mind. "I actually haven't given it to her yet, but I'm sure she'll love it," he said cryptically, blowing her a kiss (much to the shock of the elderly Earl of Ellenhept, who nearly dropped his monocle into his wine glass).

EDIT: H.B. - merry Christmas to you too! Take your time, and feel free to jump in anywhere. I'm not opposed to a little time travel (though it does make me sick to my stomach :? ))

"I know what you mean," Jeff said as he walked with James. "So what did you get Christin for Christmas?"

"A partridge in a pear tree," winked James, trying to push all affairs of state from his mind. "I actually haven't given it to her yet, but I'm sure she'll love it," he said cryptically, blowing her a kiss (much to the shock of the elderly Earl of Ellenhept, who nearly dropped his monocle into his wine glass).

EDIT: H.B. - merry Christmas to you too! Take your time, and feel free to jump in anywhere. I'm not opposed to a little time travel (though it does make me sick to my stomach :? ))

(You sure it's not just too much beer in your system? :P)

Jeff laughed as the Earl reacted to James' kiss to Christin.

"Nice to see you are pulling Iansislian society kicking and screaming into the 20th century," he winked. "That's an interesting gift, I'm sure she'd love five golden rings too, or speaking of that... " he turned to a group of lords, "you here, it's Christmas time, get leaping!"

"Well, I never!" exclaimed Ellenhept, looking from James to Jeff and back again. "Sir, if you weren't a Knight of the Empire, I'd have your head!"

"Say, isn't that woman exposing her ankles?" asked James, pointing.

"That harlot!" The Earl spun on his heel, one good eye searching for the non-existant female miscreant, while James dragged his friend away.

"I certainly try Jeff," he laughed, "But it certainly is hard when you've the Dark Ages as a base level."

"Well, I never!" exclaimed Ellenhept, looking from James to Jeff and back again. "Sir, if you weren't a Knight of the Empire, I'd have your head!"

"You and what branch of the milita..." Jeff started before James saved him.

"Say, isn't that woman exposing her ankles?" asked James, pointing.

"That harlot!" The Earl spun on his heel, one good eye searching for the non-existant female miscreant, while James dragged his friend away.

"I certainly try Jeff," he laughed, "But it certainly is hard when you've the Dark Ages as a base level."

"True, but if anyone can save it, you can" Jeff chuckled before Earl Ellenhept turned around to find them gone.

OOC: Thanks, I'll try to keep up with the RP while respecting timelines....

IC:
Civic looked around her. She was a bit dizzy, all because of the infructous combination of the Bloody Mary and the tango dance. She wasn't acustomed to drinking after a long dance.

She had spent some minutes trying to recover when her bovinian ears caught some nearby phrase.... "That's an interesting gift, I'm sure she'd love five golden rings too, or speaking of that..."

She looks around and spots Jeff and James, chatting animously. That phrase she had heard made her remember something she had to do. From the depths of her black robe, she took two small boxes, wrapped in black-and-white.
She then looks for Dhawan, who was talking with the katana brothers, and walks torwards them, after leaving Rumbiak and his friend with a reverence.

"Hello, distinguished gentlemen. It's truly a pleasure to be here. As a close friend of you, the duque sends you some gifts to celebrate this ocasion. Merry christmas or, as we say in Hell Bovines, Feliz Navidad!"

She hands one of the boxes, small and square-shaped, to PM Dhawan and another one, much larger and rectangular, to the Katana brothers.
"I hope you enjoy the presents, noble friends.", she says as she drinks a little bit from her small metalic case filled with tequila. (Yes, most hell bovines are damn alcoholics! :P )

"It's just as well he wasn't too ready to press the issue," laughed James. "One of Ellenhept's sons is the commander of the Eighteenth Rifles, as he's very fond of reminding all of us, and he's one of the largest contributors to the Tradition Party." Suddenly James shook his head. "No, I refuse to think about it!"

"Think about what, love?" asked Christin, who had come up to embrace him and give a peck on the cheek. Across the room, a fellow in a cheap suit was seen to be jumping to try and gain a better view.

"About anything but you, Cris," James laughed, putting his arm around her.

"Hello, distinguished gentlemen. It's truly a pleasure to be here. As a close friend of you, the duque sends you some gifts to celebrate this ocasion. Merry christmas or, as we say in Hell Bovines, Feliz Navidad!"

She hands one of the boxes, small and square-shaped, to PM Dhawan and another one, much larger and rectangular, to the Katana brothers.
"I hope you enjoy the presents, noble friends.", she says as she drinks a little bit from her small metalic case filled with tequila.

"Feliz Navidad to you as well, Ms. Starcow," said the Islamic Dhawan graciously with a smile, for he had long ago learned that standing upon religion was no way to get ahead in politics. "I thank you and your Duque greatly, though I fear I have nothing to offer in return," he started apologetically, before finishing "quite yet!" with a wink. Dhawan opened the box.

"Hello, distinguished gentlemen. It's truly a pleasure to be here. As a close friend of you, the duque sends you some gifts to celebrate this ocasion. Merry christmas or, as we say in Hell Bovines, Feliz Navidad!"

She hands one of the boxes, small and square-shaped, to PM Dhawan and another one, much larger and rectangular, to the Katana brothers.
"I hope you enjoy the presents, noble friends.", she says as she drinks a little bit from her small metalic case filled with tequila. (Yes, most hell bovines are damn alcoholics! :P )

Takeo and Javin received the box with a deep bow, "Merry Christmas to you also ma'am," Takeo said. "And how is the Duque? Well I hope."

(mmmmm... tequila....)

"Feliz Navidad to you as well, Ms. Starcow," said the Islamic Dhawan graciously with a smile, for he had long ago learned that standing upon religion was no way to get ahead in politics. "I thank you and your Duque greatly, though I fear I have nothing to offer in return," he started apologetically, before finishing "quite yet!" with a wink. Dhawan opened the box.

Dhawan slowly unwrapped the present, unveiling a beAutiful golden pendant.
"It's an ancient pendant that has been property of the Spottedcrown family since the dawn of time. The duque would be honored if your family owns it now. "
"Don't worry, it's unisex, so both females and males can wear it.", she added, seeing the PM's semi-worried face.

http://www.chesco.com/~stager/egypt/necklace.jpg

"Don't worry about returning the favour. We, hell bovines, aren't christians either. We do celebrate christmas, but we have adapted it so that it fits our religious beliefs. We don't worship ''God'', but lord Diablo and her daughter, The Holy Cow."
"But we aren't here to discuss religion, are we?", she suddenly says, realising she has spoken too much.
"I hope you have liked your present...."

Takeo and Javin received the box with a deep bow, "Merry Christmas to you also ma'am," Takeo said. "And how is the Duque? Well I hope."

(mmmmm... tequila....)

(Yeah, I think I'll sneak to the kitchen and open a bottle I have there :P )

"Thank you very much, young Takeo. The duque is fine, spending the season with his beloved relatives. Please do open your present, as I'd love to know your opinion"

The larkinians do so and discover that the present was a large, wooden halberd.
http://www.imperialweapons.com/polearms/1076-gt.JPG

"I hope you like it. It is a traditional weapon from our country and, this particular one, belonged to Cornelius Goldhorn, a important hell bovinian general from the revolutionary war. I think it will make a nice ornament at your residence(s)", Civic added.

ooc: Lol, brings back memories of my Barb.
ic:

Roberto looked uneasily at the weapon. It was mildy reminiscent of an Islandian farm implement he had seen carve up many of his buddies back in the 70's.

"I am sorry I do not have gifts for any of you. You see I am still a traditionalist at heart, and while many of my countrymen celebrate both, and I join in, I do not give gifts both days. Perhaps when the 3 Kings arrive you will all recieve large packages in your mail."

"Thank you very much, young Takeo. The duque is fine, spending the season with his beloved relatives. Please do open your present, as I'd love to know your opinion"

The larkinians do so and discover that the present was a large, wooden halberd.
http://www.imperialweapons.com/polearms/1076-gt.JPG

"I hope you like it. It is a traditional weapon from our country and, this particular one, belonged to Cornelius Goldhorn, a important hell bovinian general from the revolutionary war. I think it will make a nice ornament at your residence(s)", Civic added.

Takeo picked up the weapon, looking at it admiringly, "Yes, I think this would look wonderful in the Presidential Palace," he smiled. Then he quickly spun the halberd around his body, pulling it in tight in a martial arts stance.

"Yes, this is wonderful! Tell the Duque thank you!"

OOC: Hey, Agrigento, isn't this weird? Our nations were created on the same day! :D :shock:
Oh, the casuality!
IC:
"I'm sorry to say I have nothing for you either, agrigentan friend. The duque didn't knew that you were attending this party, so he didn't give me anything for youy. Don't worry, I'll tell him about this and he'll surely send you a present too", Civic said.

EDIT:
Turning to Takeo, Civic said: "Of course I'll tell the duque, although it's you who should be thanked for your friendliness torwards our nation."
"By the way, how's everything going on there in Larkinia? Are the democratic reforms working well?"

"Ahhh, you're probably right," Takeo said, looking at the halberd in awe, oblivious to the stir he's caused among the Iansislians.

"Yes, they are finally coming about!" Takeo smiled. "It's been hard, trying to rebuild a country from military rule, but it's nice to see things finally coming to fruition!"

IC: "It's truly a relief to hear that. Democracy is one of the best gifts any nation can have, as long as its populace want it, as it can't be imposed."
"Anyway, be sure that if your nation ever needs help or is in trouble, you can always count on us."

OOC: Sorry but it's 2 am here and I'm falling asleep. So, good night to everyone!. Better hop into bed before falling asleep with my head on the keyboard. :)

"I appreciate that! Thank you again!" Takeo said.

OOC: Cool, g'night and merry christmas!

Dhawan slowly unwrapped the present, unveiling a beAutiful golden pendant.
"It's an ancient pendant that has been property of the Spottedcrown family since the dawn of time. The duque would be honored if your family owns it now. "
"Don't worry, it's unisex, so both females and males can wear it.", she added, seeing the PM's semi-worried face.

"Don't worry about returning the favour. We, hell bovines, aren't christians either. We do celebrate christmas, but we have adapted it so that it fits our religious beliefs. We don't worship ''God'', but lord Diablo and her daughter, The Holy Cow."
"But we aren't here to discuss religion, are we?", she suddenly says, realising she has spoken too much.
"I hope you have liked your present...."

Dhawan laughed and put on the pendant. He wasn't a big fan of the style, but it certainly meant a lot to the Hell Bovinians, and accepting a gift from one of Iansisle's closest ally's head of state certainly couldn't hurt, especially since it made D'Carlonia steam.

"My good friend, we may discuss whatever you desire," he said (seemingly) honestly, patting Civic on the ar. "I can't remember the last time anyone gave me so wonderful a present, and I may only hope I have occasion to thank your Duque, Duchess, and the entire Spottedcrown family in person soon."

(Good night, dude! See ya soon (oh, and Merry Holy Cow day too!;))

(am I more or less correct that everyone's ready to go to bed in this thread and get on with the actual mass/gala?)

(I was just waiting for a reaction from the Iansislian nobility to Takeo flailing around a Halberd like Jackie Chan ;))

(Heh, I suppose there would be a couple reactions to that...;) But, just so everyone knows, yell at me if the party's taking too long and I'll get the show on the road. Knowing these ANH parties, it'd be Easter by the time we celebrated Christmas otherwise!)

Takeo picked up the weapon, looking at it admiringly, "Yes, I think this would look wonderful in the Presidential Palace," he smiled. Then he quickly spun the halberd around his body, pulling it in tight in a martial arts stance.

"Yes, this is wonderful! Tell the Duque thank you!"

There was indeed a stir about the room as Katana twirled the halberd. Iansisle was, of course, a big fan of the blade, but they also liked the graceful dance of the foil and saber. To their eyes, the halberd was a clumsy, overly large weapon, akin to the archaic broadswords of Iansisle's past. To see one handle it with such grace and percision only added to their scorn: who was this little Asian chap to prove their misconceptions wrong, after all!?

Takeo picked up the weapon, looking at it admiringly, "Yes, I think this would look wonderful in the Presidential Palace," he smiled. Then he quickly spun the halberd around his body, pulling it in tight in a martial arts stance.

"Yes, this is wonderful! Tell the Duque thank you!"

There was indeed a stir about the room as Katana twirled the halberd. Iansisle was, of course, a big fan of the blade, but they also liked the graceful dance of the foil and saber. To their eyes, the halberd was a clumsy, overly large weapon, akin to the archaic broadswords of Iansisle's past. To see one handle it with such grace and percision only added to their scorn: who was this little Asian chap to prove their misconceptions wrong, after all!?

(LOL, who was this little Asian chap? I'll tell ya who his is....

Drunken Monkey Master Ninja Monk, that's who he is beeeeeeyotch! Aiiieeee-yah! :P)

BUMP
UU
M M
P P

(Jeez, Lark...a punt like that, and any NFL team'd be happy to have you. ;)

I'm guessing from the dying RP that everyone's ready to move on to the next morning? :P)

(LOL, it looked better on my screen when I typed it, swear ta god ;))

Dhawan laughed and put on the pendant. He wasn't a big fan of the style, but it certainly meant a lot to the Hell Bovinians, and accepting a gift from one of Iansisle's closest ally's head of state certainly couldn't hurt, especially since it made D'Carlonia steam.

"My good friend, we may discuss whatever you desire," he said (seemingly) honestly, patting Civic on the ar. "I can't remember the last time anyone gave me so wonderful a present, and I may only hope I have occasion to thank your Duque, Duchess, and the entire Spottedcrown family in person soon."

(Good night, dude! See ya soon (oh, and Merry Holy Cow day too!;))

(Sorry about the delay! Let us not let this thread to die! :D )

"Don't worry, I'll tell the duque about your thankfulness as soon as I see him"
"Anyway, how's everything going on here at the good, old Iansisle?
I managed to see there are no meat-eaters here. It is great to find out your country is so civilised. A fellow ambasador told me a rumour about inocent lambs being served for dinner, but I didn't believed him. I'm glad I didn't. What kind of creature would do that, anyway?"
(Of course there are meat eaters, what Civic didn't realised is that they hid the meat from her view)

(If this one's still going, then Rumbiak would like a word with Dhawan. Or not, if we're all tucked in our beds...)

The evening party was starting to wind down. Most of the Iansislean attendees had already started to pick their way back down to the cove and across the water to their manors homes or town houses. The foreign diplomats, who had an express invitation to stay the night at Dun Adien, were still hanging about in the Grand Hall, as were James, Christin, and Grand Admiral Tri. Trying to stay out of the way and invisible at all time, household servants flitted here and there, straightening linens, removing empty glasses, clearing tables, and generally making themselves useful.

Though Prime Minister D’Carlonia had long since called it a night, Hiresh Dhawan still lingered at the back. He wasn’t very keen on starting any sort of conversation, and wondered to himself why he hadn’t already called it a night in anticipation of the hustle and bustle of tomorrow’s Gala.

Jeff and Katherine watched as the lights of Dun Adien had drifted into twinkling stars as the ship pulled into the bay.

"Oof!" Katherine said, her eyes opening quickly.

"You OK sweetheart?" Jeff asked her

"Yeah, just our little soccer player anxious to get out."

"We should set up a delivery room," Dr. Niven told them. "Dear, you're due anytime now."

"Already?" Jeff asked.

"I mean, I should have a few more weeks." Katherine started.

"You'll be fine dear. It's normal." Niven told the pair. "Maybe not for a few more days."

----------

The Katana Brothers watched as the foreign diplomats either leave or go to their rooms. Takeo had asked if rooms could be set aside for them, and was surprised when it was granted. He figured Javin hadn't upset too many people in Iansisle yet.... yet being the main word.

Takeo walked over to Dhawan, "It's nice to see you again sir," he said offering the man a cigar.

Takeo walked over to Dhawan, "It's nice to see you again sir," he said offering the man a cigar.

"Ah, President Katana," smiled Dhawan after the briefest of seconds spent recognizing the man. He accepted the cigar with a "thank you" and stuck it in his front pocket. "A pleasure to see you again as well. I trust you enjoyed our little get-together?"

"It has been quite a party so far," Katana smiled. "How are you holding up?"

"It has been quite a party so far," Katana smiled. "How are you holding up?"

Dhawan laughed slightly to himself. "Mr. President, you do have a way of cutting through the bush. I'd be lying if I said all right, Mr. Katana," he said with a slight smile. "To be perfectly honest with you, losing control stings me bad. Losing control to a group like the TSP hurts even more." He gestured about the room. "I don't even know why I came this evening. I'm just going to have to put up with all those stares again tomorrow."

Katana grinned, "well, I've found that directness is the best way to achieve your goals. I understand how losing control hurts. I know that Javin and I are glad you came however. You can't let them know it stings, and showing up tonight shows that it doesn't get you. That you can still work with the people you can't stand."

"Your words mean a lot to me, Mr. President," smiled Dhawan, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I certainly don't have any intention of standing by and watching all I strove to accomplish undone by Mr. D'Carlonia..." Suddenly, the former Prime Minister paused. "Though it really is not Mr. D'Carlonia that worries me." He shook his head.

"Where is Javin, anyhow? I've seen him here and there tonight, but not really had a chance to say hello."

"Javin is right..." Takeo started.

"... Right behind you, Tak." Javin said with a smile in his voice.

"Damn, I keep forgetting how quiet you are Jav," Takeo said smiling at his younger brother.

"Minister," Javin said with a smile to Dhawan, "How are you sir? Who is it that worries you sir? If not D'Carlonia?"

"Oh, hello, Javin. I'm...getting on. Yourself?"

"Well," Dhawan started, before pausing. "Promise you won't relay any of this to the media, but it's really Edward Tarriff." He smiled. "I know he seems to be just another duffer, but he's actually fairly calculating. What worries me is that I have no idea what he's up to right now. Free Trade took a real licking in that last election, but he's not looking to affiliate with any of the major coalitions." Dhawan shook his head again. "But, I didn't mean to trouble you with politics on a holiday like this."

Javin smiled at Dhawan, "It's not a bother for me. So Tarriff is being a problem is he? Hmmmm, if he's not looking to ally himself, then what can he be thinking..."

"Search me," said Dhawan with an unhappy shrug. "I don't like it, though. Even with just the TSP solidly in power, I'd be fairly happy. It's all this damn undertable dealing that I don't like. I'm not sure where it's all going, but there's something fishy afoot in Parliament."

"Really?" Javin said more to himself than anyone else. He was quickly taking mental notes to check into Parliament more when he had the chance.

"So what is supposed to happen tomorrow at the Gala?" Takeo asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Well," started Dhawan, happy at the change of subject, "Mainly, we all attend mass at St. Patrick's, then we shuffle out into Unity Square. People from the Company -" that word stuck in his throat slightly "- and the colonies come down Empire Street to present tribute to the High King, and people from the Dominions down Commonwealth. Then James gives a quick speach, and we all go home."

He made no real effort to hide his disdain for the entire event.

Javin listened and then thought a moment and cocked his head to one side.

"Well what a god damned bore!" he said to Dhawan. "So... nothing else happens then? No dancing snow angels or anything?"

"Javin," Takeo said, "there is more to life than excitement."

"Yeah, death."

"Well," thought Dhawan allowed, "I imagine there'll be some delightfully sterotypical representations of various minorities within the Empire; maybe Tedders will show up and make an ass of himself, but other than that, not really."

He chuckled at the interaction between the two brothers. "To see the two of you here together, it's hard to believe you both came from the same place. I imagine you gave your mother quite the run-around?"

(dancing snow angels?)

(Well, this friend of mine a while back was kinda dating a... dancer and... nevermind ;) )

"Wonderful," Javin said, "Just what we need, more people asking if 'Mizztah Nicee-Man would like somet'ing from column A and a little from column B'. Now you see why I have such a problem with diplomacy Tak."

Takeo could just sigh, he wasn't looking forward to seeing any stereotypes running loose.

"Well, we did cause quite the commotion," Takeo responded to Dhawan. "As you can guess, I was always the good one..."

"... only because I wasn't old enough to come up with ways out of the situations you set me up for," Javin grinned. "And you can tell, I'm the exciting one."

"That actually sounds a lot like me and my older brother Samrat," smiled Dhawan. "If it makes you feel any better, Mr. President, I was always the, eh, how'd you put it, Javin? I was always the exciting one growing up." He held his arms open with a smile and a wink. "There may be hope for young Javin yet!"

A little more seriously, he added: "But Javin, don't let anyone change you: not your brother, not me, not the Third World Conference Council, not anyone. We all are just who we're meant to be, and we're perfect that way."

Javin smiles triumphantly at Takeo, "Finally! FINALLY someone who understands! Thank you Mr. Dhawan," Javin says happily.

Takeo mock-winces as Dhawan speaks, "No... please... don't encourage him. Well, as long as there is hope for him."

"It's my pleasure, young Katana," smiled Dhawan. "There's nothing worse to see than a wasted life spent pretending to be someone else. I don't think that many people understand that."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dhawan caught sight of Rumbiak. He had seen the Tanah Burung representitive from time to time, though conversation had eluded them. He remembered the man's loud speaches at the Third World Conference as well as he did Javin's, and frowned. Markus seemed an odd character to send to an event like the Winter Gala.

Javin followed Dhawan's glance to Rumbiak.

"it's good to see Mr. Rumbiak here," he said to Takeo.

"Yes it is. Try not to upset him this time."

"Upset him? I owe him a drink."

"I don't see how Javin could possibly upset Mr. Rumbiak," winked Dhawan. "What's that saying...birds of a feather....eat each other?"

Javin's eyes twinkled mischeviously.

"Yes they do," Takeo sighed. "You're not going to make this easy on us are you Javin. Try not to call him a fascist, or anything like slappy" Takeo finished at a whisper.

"I know this goes against everything I just told you, Javin, about being true to yourself and all, but if you want to make a career in politics, you'll have to learn to do it. Keep an absolutely straight tone, don't move your mouth muscles unusually, and say all the right words. Instead, just put your eyebrows like this -" he made the gesture "- and blink as little as possible while never losing eye contact."

He grinned. "It's sure fire."

Javin nodded, listening to Dhawan, he tried what he quickly called the 'eyebrow thing', after a few tries he thought he had it.

"OK, I think I can do that," he said nervously.

"You'll do great!" nodded Dhawan. "Like a fish to water!" Then he chuckled to himself "Heh...slappy."

(ok, now I'm really off ;))