NationStates Jolt Archive

The sun's rays played upon the rolling seas, the light patterns of the waves reflecting up on the side of the gigantic, bone white ship that sailed along silently. It looked more like a cross between a futuristic cruise ships, and the old 1700's ships of the line in that numerous, gold plated, decorative, almost Baroque sculture works adorned the glistening hull, providing a deep contrast between future and past. It was thrice the size of any Cruise ship and its decks were made of Solid mahogany. Inside, chandeliers dripped down from every ceiling that could hold one and everything was fitted for Royalty. This was the RNV King Louis-Recois, the Imperial Family's personal Yacht. The 513 higher members of the Imperial Family's Ruling Council all paid for this monument to extravagence. Now, after a christening, the Imperial Family had decided to make a world tour and fill the 100 extra Guest Suites with any acceptable foreign dignitaries who wished to attend.

Aboard, they would be treated to five star cuisine, with an immense wine cellar. They would also have a Spa, and each guest would have his own personal servant. Every comfort one would expect at a fine five star resort would be recieved by the guests...for free.

Invitations were mailed out to the deserving dignitaries to attend a month ago, and responses were now due.

Requests had also been mailed to individual nations, asking if they would be willing to recieve an Imperial Delegation in their ports. While in port, the heads of state who wished to attend would be allowed to live like Kings as long as they were aboard.

Responses for those were also due.

*PORTS OF CALL: SUBJECT TO CHANGE* (looking to add more ports)

Wretchengard
Vegana
Kriegorgrad

OOC: Can I join in? I know I have a very small nation, and that its nothing compared to yours, but I would like the RP expierience.

OOC: Sure, join away, if you want the ship to stop in your country just ask or if you want to send people aboard the ship itself, also fine.

OOC: I'll join the party aboard the ship.

IC:

An Airbus 330 painted in the livery of the Queen glided through the skies over a deep blue ocean. On board was Duchess Mary Stepton Tells, the Duchess of Creptson. Her Magesty the Queen would have been prefered to go, but considering that the Queen was still Princess Elizabeth, not Queen Elizabeth, it was decided she would have to wait till after the coronation to attend diplomatic events.

The aircraft was painted a deep green, with a white underbelly and black wings. On each wing, both sides of the fuselage, and the right side of the vertical tail plane, was the crest of the Queen. A black lion on a blue shield with two crossed swords, and a vertical spear. The shield had a blue and gold checkerd backround in the upper right and lower left corners, and a green helmet on a white background in the upper left and lower right.

The aircraft, on approach to Reichskamphen, began to descend. "Reichskamphen ATC, this is Royal Five. We are at 10,000, request runway info and permision to land. Also, what are the winds like, I'd like to synch our GPS with ground weather patterns," the pilot asked. Inside the cabin of the jet, the Duchess buckled her seatbelt, and sat more upright in her chair. She would have rather been with her husband, Duke John, but he was representing the house of Stepton at the coronation.

OOC: You know us Thelasi, always ready to attend a diplomatic gathering... can we... we'll leave the body guards at home

But one thing... will you arrest us, charge us with witchcraft and burn us at the stake?

OOC: These are the Nobles, the Paisley family is not on board, all the nobles hate the Paisleys, but everyone in the Empire loves them. They are not particularly relgious people(the nobles), they just pretend to be. Heck they might like you if you are anti-Paisley.

You are welcome to come.

OOC: Versalles...you would be landing in a helicopter most likely on the ship as it is out at sea right now and will dock soon. We will just assume you did that.

IC:As the Helicopter landed, men dressed in elegant attire awaited the exit of its occupants. They looked like a snapshot out of 1782 France, this was truly a family of Noble class. The women stood by, holding parasails and gossiping, staying in the background and keeping their mouths shut as was the policy of the Thompson family...except for the Queen Mother Sarah...who could say whatever the hell she pleased. She earned it.

OOC: My bad, thought we were landing then gettin on the ship...I'll change that up for ya.

IC:

The Black Puma landed gently on the ship, and as the rotors powered down, Duchess Tells stepped off the helicopter. She looked around, bringing in all the sights. She felt slightly underdressed, as she wore a conservative suit, not one of her cerimonial dresses. She hadn't packed any, and hoped non would be required. A single body gaurd stepped off next to her, and looked around.

The small ATV parked at the entrance to the Atlantic Island Imperial base, breaking with a long, loud screech of the breaks. The boy sitting on it seems about 18, but he is definitely older. Much older. He smiles proudly as he walks up to the entry of the base.

‘Good day. I am Duc de Charleville’

The guards snap to attention as they let the young Duke in, unaware of the great significance of it all,

Count Andre-Allistaire von Katrineburg approached the new guest. He bowed deeply and kissed her hand. "Your Emminence, I appologize if we seem a tad overdressed, but this is just how we are. We hold to the old ways Madame..and this...for us...is casual." he said with a snicker.

Rising, he escorted them all into the ship. When the doors to the inside were opened, it looked like almost a differant world, deep, burly mahogany panels everywhere, atleast in this room. Huge, plush oriental carpets and opulent chandaliers dripping from the cieling. It was like a floating palace.

"Let me show you to your quarters." the Count said, walking out of the Recieving room (Note this room was built JUST to recieve people from the Helicopter pad...talk about excess). As they walked out, they walked into a world of glossy, pearly marble, inlaid with gold and ornate sculpture work. The high, scultpured dome ceiling of the central area of the ship seemed almost to huge to be real. They were in a huge hallway, decorated like an 18th century palace, but the hallways stacked on top of eachother as they were at the top. There were 20 other decks and it seemed almost unbelievable when one glanced over the stone sculpted rails. At the very bottom in the lower level Salon as it was called was an enormous opulent fountain spurting water in all directions. An enormous seating area with regal furniture and huge buffet tables were set up. "It is early, so we shall be having an English breakfast. You arrived just in time. Here are your quarters. We gave you the l'Imperatrice suite. Since we have no Empress, you will occupy it." The huge French darkwood doors opened into what appeared to be heaven. gold leafed wall paper with beautiful elaborate designs, extremely elaborate and ornate furniture, all with gold leaf and the most beauiful upholstery one had seen. "There are five rooms," the Count began, "the Bedroom, with the enormous Canopy bed of the same style as the rest of the furniture (essentially Louis XIV), the Bathroom which was for all intents and purposes a small spa, a Salon for recieving guests, a study for privacy, and finally, your own private dining room should you wish to keep to yourself at any time."

"Hurry on and join us downstairs."

As the Versallian copter was being stored in the hangar, the King Louis-Recois was sailing into the Imperial Naval base on Atlantica Island, Allanea.

Several elegantly uniformed Imperial footmen came aboard the ship when it docked, bearing the crest of Arch Duke (King) Napoleon, the King of Allanea. They brought aboard several hundred huge crates that were stored in the aft of the ship as a messenger came aboard from the Arch Duke and handed Count von Katrineburg a letter.
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"Dearest Cousin,

Duke Lucien de Charleville has arrived today in port. Upon presentation of identification, as I remember the Charleville province being without a noble rather recently, I approved his continuation. This appears to be the real deal, the newest member of the Imperial family. Treat him well.

Yours in Christ,

King Napoleon Charles Francois Joseph de Sanglant"
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Count von Katrineburg came out and escorted the noble aboard the ship. (OOC: I dont feel like describing it again)

The duchess nodded in return. "I appologize for being underdressed," she replied. She looked around the room, and smiled. Very nice, she thought to herself quietly. She had her gaurd drop his things, and she soon joined the rest of the family.

*Taggity*

OOC: Now, Reichskamphen, can I come?

Yes indeed, come on!

OOC: The cruise ship may stop at the port of Vhaldruin, Wretchengard's capital, if you desire.

The wonderful nation of Vegana and the Benevolent Jaar Cordially invites the Reichkamphen delegation into one of their ports. We are all brothers in Christ! And even when there has been tension between the Reich and The greater Prussia, the wonderful nation of Vegana still recognises their former brothers and the proud nation of Reichkamphen as one of their allies in the struggle against the Nephilim tyranny! God is Great!

OOC: Can I send someone?

'de Charlevile' gasped faintly as he looked at the luxury within. He recovered quickly - not quickly enough for the sharp-eyed Imperial nobles not to notice, of course - and looked at von Katrineburg.

"Good day, Sir. I am sorry, for in the provinces we can't follow well the affairs of the capital. What are the news?"

OOC: Could you stop in Kriegorgrad? If so, tell me when I can post.

OOC: Awesome
===================

General Jean-Baptise Solignac and Field Marschall Aurther Wellesy, the Duke of Wellington, magically appeared on the helocoptor pad via special, OOC magic. (OOC: don't feel like arrivals :) ) The two military officers walked along the deck, waiting for some escort.

Duc Guillaume de Centreville approached the Duke of Wellington. As he walked he saw in his eyes the visions of Napoleon's great Imperial Guard turning back and retreating under withering British fire. He was the direct descendant of a noble that Napoleon Installed in Reichskamphen while it was part of the Confederation of the Rhine. He could hear the screams and see the golden eagles trailing away, their standards tattered and bloody, burned and charred beyond recognition, the meaning behind them alltogether lost. The greatest Empire an Emperor in modern history were fallen because of that man...and his heir now approached. What was he to do?

"Bonjour Monsieur Duc de Wellington; et toi aussi...l'autre nobile qui est ici. (OOC: Can't remember his name) Je m'appelle Guillaume de Centreville. Je suis un Duc..un nobile de la famille royal ancien...les Thompsons."

Translation: (Good Day Mr. Duke of Wellington; and you also...the other noble whos here. I am William of Centreville. I am a duke...of the very old royal family...the Thompsons)

"Tu as un bon voyage?" (Did you have a good trip?) the Guillaume asked Wellington.

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Count von Katrineburg once again approached the newest noble aboard. "Parlez-vous Francais?" he asked. Upon recieving a confirming nod, he began.

"Le situation ici est tres terrible. Les Leipzigs et Les Thompsons sont adversaires mortelles! Mais...ils habitent sur un singulier paquebot et sur un parte et un patrie singulier aussis! Tu ferais le saveur d'Allanea. C'est necessaire pour tu de recontre avec les nobiles et parlez avec ils...Allez viens! Vite!"

Katrineburg said with haste as he headed towards his suite.

De Charleville smiles at Katrineburg. "Merci, Monsieus." He smiles uncomfortably as he follows him along towards the suite.

As the Duchess and her gaurd walked towards the main deck, they heard voices. "Did you hear that," she asked. "It sounded like French?" The gaurd chucklled.

"Want me to take 'em out?"

"No dear, we need the French. The make everyone's self esteeme go up."

They heard a hearty laugh as Arch Duke Dietrich von Oberhausen turned the corner. "I appologize, I wasn't eavesdropping but I heard what you said. Marvelous."

He extended his hand to the delegation. "Ich bin Dietrich von Oberhausen." He flashed a large smile.

"We're lucky the Frenchy nobles are in the vast minority." he sighed heavily, "But were a bit out of luck that Arch Duke Napoleon is now King of Allanea...if only temporarily. Damn French...." his facial expresion morphed from a scowl into a bright smile. "Would you care to join us for breakfast? The time is approaching."

He began to walk towards the lower dining area.

Charleville shrugs. "I wouldn't know... he seems to be doing the right things for now. The question is what his endgame is."

http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=7235378&posted=1#post7235378

This is occuring separately in time from the corronation thread, because many of the same characters are there.
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'A pro-Napoleon noble...odd...' Oberhausen thought to himself. "Let's get on then!" He smiled jovially.

They walked down the grand, majestic, marble staircase which stood as tall as the ship itself. At the bottom were laid out several tables, allayed in white linen cloths and huge bouquets of bright, colourful flowers.

The nobles were all sitting at the tables, and some had begun eating.

"Your exellencies, a waiter approached the delegation, can I interest you in something to eat? We have, bacon, sausages of all types, and country ham...all from farm raised pigs in the Kingdom. We also have organic farm fresh eggs, essentially any kind of vegetable or condiment you could want, and a bevy of fresh fruit. Oh..." he spoke as if he'd forgotten something important, "We also have palmiers, eclaires, croisants, Napoleon's and other fine pastries. The palmiers are QUITE good." He brought them a silver plated coffee service set, the pot filled with the finest and argueably most expensive coffee on earth, Jamaican Blue Mountain. "If you want juice, or some champagne...just ask."

The Duchess, following tradtion, simply orderd a cup of Earl Gray and some breakfast sausages. Her gaurd also ordered, he choose a few scrambled eegs, some bacon, and a cup of coffee.

The waiter brought their food, bowed deeply, and walked away.

"That's what I call a breakfast." von Oberhausen spoke to the Duchess's guard. "We very highly respect people in your line of work."

He then turned to the Duchess. "Your excellency, I trust your trip was pleasurable? I am interested to know what your Kingdom thinks economically. Are you mercantilistic or capitalist?"

The Duke of Wellington could see the rage in Centreville's eyes. Too bad for you. When Centreville started to speak in French, The Duke got a little pissed off. You son of a bitch. He little French, though -- That is what General Solignac was for.

"Mon voyage était merveilleux. Merci, monsieur. I'm heureux je
pourrais venir. Je fais des excuses. Mon Français n'est pas celui bon," The Duke Responded in French. "Maintenant, si vous m'excuserez, j'ai faim," he said with a smile. He walked off and heard Oberhausen say breakfast, and walked toward the voice. Field Marschall Wellington turned to General Solignac. "How'd I do?"

"Well, sir. Not too bad, but at least you put the 'my French is poor' in as a diclaimer."

"Point taken," Wellington said as he and General Solignac entered the dining room. He sat down and heard the menu. Let us see if they know Dersconi dishes.

"Hmm. Do you have SOS?" :) "I'll take a hot chocolate, too, if you don't mind," Wellington said to the waiter. "Solignac?"

"Je prendrai du thé, si vous ne vous occupez pas," he said to the waiter.

OOC: My French sucks, you'll have to excuse me.

"Un the. Oui. Tu voudrais sucre ou creme?" The waiter asked.

"Yes, we have Solignac." The waiter went to get everyone's orders.

"So, how do you like things so far?" the Arch Duke enquired.

"Crème" Solignac Replies.

"This little boat is quite wonderful," Wellington replied. "Unfortunately, I believe some delegates may not appreciate me, due to past military experiences," the Duke said with a smile.

The waiter brought their food, bowed deeply, and walked away.

"That's what I call a breakfast." von Oberhausen spoke to the Duchess's guard. "We very highly respect people in your line of work."

He then turned to the Duchess. "Your excellency, I trust your trip was pleasurable? I am interested to know what your Kingdom thinks economically. Are you mercantilistic or capitalist?"

The gaurd nodded. "We do our best," he said with a slight cockney accent. He took a swig of the black coffee, and smiled. "And it pays well," he said with a smirk.

The Duchess chimed in after that. "Economically, we are a true free trade capitalist nation. No import taxes or tarriffs. The only challenege is to make a superior good. And the people of Versalles know a superior good when we see one. We recently signed a deal with an Imitoran company to replace our aging SA80 rifles. However, we are expierienceing a few problems in one of our older holdings. But its nothing we cant handle. Good tea," she finished, taking a sip.

OOC: Perhpas you'd like to call at our nation? We're only small but we're something of an Island Paradise, and as an affliated Member of the Greater Prussia...

Sat in his far away office in far away Korgorsburg, the President Paul von Korgor dictates a telegram.

To the Greater Prussian Imperial Family, greetings! We would like to put the sizeable port facilities of Korgors Legacy at the disposal of your vessel. We hope you will come and enjoy the tropical vistas of our island hideaway and will be more than happy to provide supplies and anything else required free of charge as a goodwill gesture.

"I like this guy." von Oberhausen put his arm around the guard, and smiled. He then turned to speak to the duchess. "Yes, this is the way to be. Speaking of Imitora, we have had dealings with her in the past. She was at one point a central figure in the Greater Prussian Empire until Emperor Paisley ordered her expulsion due to military and political incompetance." he took a sip of the tea. "I will endeavour to speak of the situation if you like, but we here consider it water under the bridge. Imitora is a good nation to trade with, though." he then echoed her previous sentiment. "It is good tea."

Then von Oberhausen addressed Wellington. "The French." he chucked a bit. "They of course may not like you because of the military experiances of your namesake...but...they're just the French. Don't worry about them. They matter not."

The Duchess laughed. Versalles, despite its French sounding name, was a country of English origin. No one really knew where the nation got its name, rumor had it that the only King the nation ever had was French, and King Louis Versalles' rule lasted a meer four years.

"The French," she commented, "an intresting group of individuals. No one is perfect, but they take that to extreemes." She paused, took anotehr sip, then continued. "Military incompatance?" she asked. "Maybe we should speak of this more. I have 500 Imitoran Mercenaries helping Royal Marines secure a colonial holding in Africa."

Count me in

"Oh indeed, we should talk about it more. How about over dinner?" the Arch Duke asked.

OOC: Well, post away. You can always land by helicopter on the boat.

"Indeed," the Duke said. "The French are a bit strange. Not exactly the most military intelligent either. Then again, I was the one that defeated them, so it is possible there is a small bias here," Wellington said smiling.

OOC: Is this the ACTUAL Wellington, or is this some guy who thinks he is, or some guy who has been cloned and somehow has the memory contrived for him?

"That sounds excellent. My brother is one of the Royal Marines going to Seira Cava, and I'd like to know exactly what he'll be fighting alongside."

A tall man, young at 22 and handsome with an athletic stature entered the room where many of the guests had congregated to meet and discuss over alcohol and delicacies. His name was Ambrosius Sextus Gasparus. The youngest and most inexperienced of the 600 members of the Republican Senate of Neo Latium, he wore a suit but it had a unique look to it seeming very crisp, dark, silken and with no tie to speak of. A suit that must have taken centuries to develop as Neo Latium had only recently discovered the world outside there small continent in the South Atlantic. Over the suit he wore the traditional garb of the Senate, a white toga with a single, purple stripe. This particular piece was descended from before the founding of Neo Latium, from the original Roman Republic in Ancient Europe.
Behind him stood a Servus, the people who had originally inhabited Neo Latium before the arrival of the Roman Colonists. The Colonists realised the need for a labour class and realised that the opportunity to acquire such was not through conquest as their brethren in Europe did, but through the exploitation of the native peoples. So the Servii (latin for slave/serf/servant) became the labour class of the New Roman Republic and the need for conquest was seen as void. As technology developed in biological engineering, the Servii were enhanced genetically to improve muscle performance and limit capacity for individual thought.
This Servus, named by his master as Cicero, to remind him of the effectiveness and power of the spoken word, followed him around everywhere, except of course to Senate meetings and the most private of engagements. In addition to being a servant, he was indeed a good bodyguard.
Ambrosius and Cicero entered the room hesitantly, inexperience at official functions was apparent. He lightly breathed his thoughts to his Servus.

"These Christians should not be trusted, they had a hand in the destruction of Old Rome, they should be treated with Caution, Cicero, be on your guard!"

Cicero nodded.
Ambrosius looked at the Reichskamphen Royals with disdain. He continued to speak under his breath.

"Kings! Germanic Kings! Only barbarians call themselves Kings!"

Cicero, clenching both his dagger and his master's alcohol, motioned Ambrosius to one of the larger conversations in the room. They approached and Ambrosius summoned all the confidence he could muster.

"We come here to pay respects to the Royal Family of Greater Prussia and to foster the hopes of a better future between our peoples. As such, we offer a gift to them, as a token of our esteem."

Cicero approached with a small box and offered it. Ambrosius continued his charm offensive.

"The finest perfume in all of Neo Latium, for the beautiful Lady of Prussia!"

In reality, Ambrosius could not find a shortage of disdain for these Germanians in his heart anywhere. The perfume perhaps was more an insult in his eyes, these Barbarians needed to hide their stink.
He bowed once more.

OOC: Half are Germanic, Half are French. We consider ourselves the rightful heirs to the Napoleonic Crown. So...some Roman roots there. Also, there are no Kings. There is only an Emperor and regional nobles. Very well written post otherwise. I will respond to it in short order.

In the meanwhile, the Duke of Charleville sits down, observing the procedures. The man - looking more like a young boy - is not well aware with the minutiae of courtly politeness, so he decides to watch instead of act.

So that man - or boy - sits there, sipping on a cup of tea (five sugar!), and listens.

OOC: Just so you know I'm still here/

OOC: Half are Germanic, Half are French. We consider ourselves the rightful heirs to the Napoleonic Crown. So...some Roman roots there. Also, there are no Kings. There is only an Emperor and regional nobles. Very well written post otherwise. I will respond to it in short order.


OOC: Perhaps, but while there is Roman blood, you are still tainted by barbarian blood. And to a Roman mind, especially that of a republican, there is little difference between a King and an Emperor, especially if that Emperor is not Roman.

OOC: You would probably think that our Emperor was a barbarian as he is acutally Irish in a funny turn of events. But he is abdicating in favour a Frenchman.

OOC: You would probably think that our Emperor was a barbarian as he is acutally Irish in a funny turn of events. But he is abdicating in favour a Frenchman.

OOC: Makes no difference to these particular Romans. Isolation has made them racially conscious.

Must be off now, got to go to College (UK). I look forward to reading your reply later....

"Thankyou kindly." the Arch Duke smiled. But this is a gift more suited for the Arch Duchess. A lady with long, flowing, strikingly black hair strolled into the room in a relatively simple 1800's style dress. Her skin was fair, but not pale. Her eyes were deep, chesnut brown and her teeth were so dazzlingly white that they seemed to echo the whites of her eyes. "May I present my beautiful wife, Agrippa von Oberhausen." the lady curtsied deeply and formally, maintaining eye contact with the Latins.

"You are from New Latium, no?" the Duchess asked. "My mother was from Old Latium...I am unsure what the differance is. But, Bene est."

Her neckline descended into a very deep "V" which left little to imagination. Her lips were red and smooth, almost screaming to be touched. "Thankyou for the kind gift." she smiled smelling the perfume. "It's lovely."

The Arch Duke then looked at all those assembled and announced, "Who's up for a game of cards? I hear the new Emperor will be here in a few hours, what better to kill the time?"

OOC: You can all interact with eachother as well as with me.

"Old Latium, eh?"

Old Latium being the area of the original Rome, but it made no difference to Ambrosius; she was still barbarian on both sides of the family. Her blood was too contaminated with Ostrogoth and Byzantine rubbish not to mention the unspecified German blood of her father.
Yet, she was still beautiful, for a barbarian at least. But the idea of sex with such, made his stomach turn. It would never happen anyway, she was married, by Christians. It just got worse and worse.
Yet her lips seemed to pout, drawing him in. Ambrosius felt a little flush.
It was so confusing....
Now he understood why new Senators hated their first diplomatic assignments, it probably took a little getting use to, being in the presence of what was by Roman culture, filthy scum.
He took a few sips of wine from his glass. At least part of the assignment was good.
He then passed his empty glass to Cicero.

"I am up for a game, perhaps we can continue discussing...."

OOC: Just so you know, Agrippa is a male name. The female version is Agrippina.

OOC:My mistake. I used to be fairly proficient in latin. I could have sworn the Matron's name was Agrippa. Wouldn't it end in -us if it was a masculine name? I shall trust you.

OOC:My mistake. I used to be fairly proficient in latin. I could have sworn the Matron's name was Agrippa. Wouldn't it end in -us if it was a masculine name? I shall trust you.

OOC: If you want help with other Latin Names, you should try this website; http://freereg.rootsweb.com/howto/latinnames.htm

I have found it useful.
While Agrippa and Agrippina are absent, I managed to work out the masculine and feminine through looking at Roman history. Augustus' greatest general was called Agrippa and the mother of the Emperor Nero was called Agrippina.

Bump

OOC:May i please have a invite?

OOC: Can I join in? :)

Yes, you can both come.

I need to reply. Let me read these things again to refresh my memory. The campaign is over, so now, I'm back.

OOC: Think of Atlantia as New Kiev's Las Vegas.

Our capital city of Saint Arc is one of many important and beautiful ports that compose the People's Republic. Our other major ports are: Port Krasinsky, Farbanti and Atlantia. Your Imperial Majesty is welcome in any or all of our cities and you have my word that the people of New Kiev will be glad to welcome you.

[[Mind if I join in?]]