NationStates Jolt Archive

"Welcome, my fellow Elders, to this meeting...
"It will be the final one." The tall, almost gaunt man smiled weakly. "I am afraid we no longer have use for you in the new Terpsichoria." He looked to the guards who stood, waiting, at the massive oaken doors of the Cantanori Hall. "Sirs?"

A hundred screams drowned out gunfire. Quickly, it was all over, and the Elders were dead - the hundred ancient men who had established policy for this, the stagnating Republic.

"Hail Terpsichoria!"

"Ave Senator!"

"All cheer for Lord Dentrai!"

The guards, and soon the assembled citizens, cheered for their leader. "Thank you, my friends. Soon... I hope soon to bring Terpsichoria back into the hands of the true leaders. All hail the people!"

"Hail Terpsichoria!"

----------
C-TJN Bulletin - URGENT.

"I'm Hailia Senada. This is Cantano-Terpsichor Journalism Network. All hail Terpsichoria, as the new rallying cry goes - Lord Dentrai, of the former house of People, has just taken control of a new government, slaughtering the old in a quick, surgical strike. More details as we receive them. For now, this is C-TJN, of the Free State of Terpsichor. Signing off."

Aye, and it was a glorious day for Terpsichoria. The grass grew green, the children laughed, the people were happy...

That is, most of them. The ones who didn't know about the element balance and all that, and the ones who still had names.

You see, the true source of a soul is a name, at least within the borders of Terpsichoria. Lord Dentrai, 'Morofil Janno' as he had been known, was a cold, calculating man - a man who fit his new name much better than the oafish one his parents had given him.

Parents he had, of course, killed. Why allow those who keep you down to survive to destroy others? This was his feeling, and so he had renamed himself Jann'u Dentrai - a much more fitting name, which meant 'Theif of Heaven,' rather than 'Lesser Theivesbane.'

He shone his ceremonial armor. True, he was uncomfortable in this silvered plate, and felt almost... well, gilty. ((Pun alert.)) But it was, at least, his. Servants strapped it onto his lean frame, and he smiled slowly. "So then... let our arrival begin."

Lord High Senator Jann'u Dentrai took the podium. "My assembled brethren... representatives from many great nations... I welcome you to this feast. May our swords never rise against each other."

And so the feast was begun.

((OOC: I have been known by a few names here. Daezman, the fool on the round island who got his country dis-integrated by a pissed-off Imitora, Cymraeg, who kinda disappeared the last time I did. I've been a well-known RPer, and I hope to be so again. Welcome to the world of Cantano-Terpsichor, home of the Terpsichorian ecdesiasts, where 'what's in a name?' is simply answered 'Everything.'

I hope you'll enjoy my newer, improved style.))

((And a bump from the second page we do!))

((One, two, bumpmaniaaaaaa!

I'ma give up on this after about two more..))

"Nuke threat, coup, explosion, explosion, electrical bill, coup," the list went on as First Speaker Anna Fratelli flipped through a list of ICI briefings. They all said the same thing for the most part, many a pissant nation had sprung, many had fell, and some showed potential. She picked up the next folder in line, labeld Cantano-Terpsichor. She flipped it open, and looked at the report. She tossed it into the 'maybe' pile. This was also known as the 'Fortier' pile.

When your the richest man in Imitora, the former First Speaker, and a 34 year old who acted like he was still 20, then you had to give him something to keep him off the streets of Northampton. Anna decided that this nation looked harmless enough, and decided to, instead of pick one randomly, grabbed it, and tossed it into the 'Out' box. An hour later, when an aide arived to gather all the mail she needed sent out, she grabbed the folder, and delivered it to the Foriegn Affairs department.
_

Imtoran Hodgania

The black Toyota speed down the open road, the driver calmly shifting through fourth. Robert Fortier smiled. This car would be a good replacement for the M, and he'd need it sent to his shop in Bayview. He pulled off an exit, and drove another half mile to a tent city. The tent city was the ICMU holding camp for the displaced Aubanians. The invasian of Aubania in order to route facists (read:lower bidder) forces out of the government had been quick, and money was now tied up in rebuilding.

He exited the Supra, and strolled across camp. He ducked into the ICI tent, and waved over to a petite, yet stunningly good looking, brunette. Spanish and German blood mixed yielded good results. "Holly, dear, it seems its come time for me to do my whole, 'Master Ambasador' thing again," chuckling. He knew what this job was, a way to keep him out of trouble back home.

She nodded. "Let me guess, you want me to go with you?" He nodded. "Damnit, Rob, you know I can't. I got to finish the damned interogations, and Scarlet's been bitchy lately. The contractors are gonna be here soon and..."

He held up his finger to cut her off. "As the current comanding field officer with Imitoran Central Intelligence, I command you to come with me." She sighed.

"I hate it when you pull rank," she said, smiling. She had a great smile.
__

Three days later, Fortier and Holly were in Cantano-Terpsichor. Fortier raised his glass to the toast, as did those around him. He'd need to get in a bit closer to the man in the armor, which wouldn't be to hard. Ambasadorial duty and all. He winked at Holly, and started to slide through the crowd towards the front. Holly just sighed. "Damnit I need a beer," she said under her breath.

It should be noted that the Cantanori have quite acute hearing. Quickly, a bottled pint of Mikri-Tellasio Darkest Ale found its way to Holly's hand, and a dark-skinned man bowed. "Shall Milady need anything more?"

---

Lord Senator Jann'u Dentrai now sat at the head of a grand banquet table. Being that Fortier - or 'Lord Foriter' as the less educated servants pronounce it - is a representative of one of the more prominent nations represented here, he has been seated quite nearby.

Introductions have been completed, and Lord Dentrai smiles not-quite-winningly to Fortier.

(Bumping for Imi)

OOC: Man...I drank two six packs of Guinness in under an hour...and I'm already sober. Damn.

IC:

Holly took a sip of the cold beer. Teh dark liquid was like the Northampton brews, almost black in color, and a head you needed an ice pick to get through. "Perfect," she said, thanking the servant. "I'm good for now," she said.
__

Fortier nodded towards Dentrai after the introduction. "Lord Dentrai, its a pleasure to meet you. I must say, your acheical of power was quite impressive. Like the old Imitoran way. So tell me, have any plans for the new government?"

"I quite thought it properly dramatic. Government is nothing without good drama, and the senators were, thank Lamoj, at least properly emotive." Dentrai ponders for a moment. "It's not the Canterpsin way to overgovern. Of course, we'll allow freedoms - at least to the point that the beer keeps flowing. ((OOC: 'the beer keeps flowing' basically means that commerce doesn't stop.)) Honestly, we already have nearly the whole cabinet in place - have you met Lord Vetin, Trade Minister? I'm told he's working on trade bonds with Adastan."

(ya bump it to the left,
ya bump it to the right,
ya bump it 'til everythin' feels all right.)

bumping for the sake of Iansisle.

((I'm here, I'm here.

The only problem is that I have an 8 page essay due Monday that is currently about 17 words long. So you might not be seeing much of me this weekend. :())

Lord Dentrai greeted the as-yet-unnamed representative from Iansisle and he, too, was seated close at hand to the Prime Minister.

have you met Lord Vetin, Trade Minister? I'm told he's working on trade bonds with Adastan."

"Well its good to see your off to a strong start. I cant say that I have met him," Fortier replied, taking a sip of his drink.

((Remember my good old talent for coup?

Here it goes again.))

Then there was silence as the hall darkened. Three men, clad in black, stood upon the stage at the north end of the room.

"Hail! We salute you, Dentrai, who shall soon perish!"

Lord Dentrai greeted the as-yet-unnamed representative from Iansisle and he, too, was seated close at hand to the Prime Minister.

"My lord," said the short, trim Sir Robert Nortingmar with a shallow bow. "Greetings from His Majesty and the Assembly."

The Iansislean ambassador assumed his seat near Dentrai and watched the goings-on with a curious eye.

Fortier watched the 'attack', if it could even been called that, with intrest. He looked over at Holly, who was dressed in a tastefull cocktail dress, reach into her purse. He could tell she was going for the P226I. He reached under his jacket slowly, unclipping the thumb break on his own holster, letting the Sig Sauer/UMAC pistol free of the holster. It dropped to his right hand, and he caught it, holding it beneath the table. He looked over at Holly who, with her hand still in the purse, nudged it off the table. The pistol came loose, and like Robert, she held it uner the table.

"I see the... entertainment is here. Stand down, men, this has been a demonstration." Dentrai flickered out.

"And an impressive one, it would seem." A tall, wide-shouldered man sat in the place where Dentrai had seemingly been.

Catasi Benij Menva chuckled. "I love dramatics." The 'revolutionaries' filed away, chuckling, and the assembled Lords flickered out and were replaced by new men.

"Howdy. I'm President Catasi Menva, at your service, Lord Fortier."

Fortier nodded. Majic, holograms, or maybe just smoke and mirrors, but they were all parlor tricks. He looked over at Holly, nodded again, and pulled aside his jacket. He slid the Sig back into its holster, locking the thumb break. Holly pulled her purse up, and slid her pistol into it.

Fortier looked over at the new man. "Always a pleasure Mr. President," he replied, offering a wry smile. "Welcome to the party, even if it is abit fashionably late."

"All right, then. Now that we've had the show, let's have dinner." President Menva waved a hand, and the Corps of Waiters (an actual unit of the Terpsich Army) sprang into action, taking orders of all kinds and delivering food in a relatively short time.

"So, Lord Fortier. You represent the Imperial Domain and Lands of Imitora, correct?"

"More or less, yes," Fortier started. He could get used to being called Lord. He had bought the spear of Longinus, so he was pretty close to God. "I'm not an official government ambasador, but I'm usually the one lucky enough picked to go do these nice little get togethers. Its a nice break, and a good suplimental pay check," he joked, taking a sip of a local red and a bite of food.

"I should think so. Hm. Have you heard? My son's company has recently started mass production on the Astuhe-class. He's given me one - rides like a dream on land and off, it does."

"Yeah, I've seen the press dockets. Looks like a nice ship, wouldn't mind seeing one in action. We've just finished construction on several more of our new ships of the line, the Northampton IIs. Decent sized fleet wise, but not really that intresting to me. I was just a lowly Ground Pounder, so I'm not one to stay up in the clouds. How about you, do you have any military service?"

"Always a pleasure to meet a fellow humper*! Sixteen years on Border Defense, one as a press liason - that went badly - then six in the Burrkhist Bawol**."

Menva grinned wryly. "They didn't like the way I told the truth to Vox Populis much. Nor how close I was to Yahn Q***."

(Now I have to resort to notes?
*Humper: For those who don't know this term, a 'humper' is a soldier who walks long, long distances with lots of weight on his back.
**Burrkhist Bawol: 'Special Actions Unit', the equivalent of the US Army's Rangers. 'Burrkhist mekhod!,' the best-known rallying cry, amounts to 'Special Actions in front!,' which can be compared to 'Rangers lead the way!'
***Yahn Q: A Terpsich mispronunciation of 'John Q,' as in 'John Q Public.')

"sounds like a good amount of service. It was a while back, but I was five years in the regs, then eight in ICMC Recon, followed by the obligatory recruitment year. I coulda convinced anyone to join, hell, I coulda sold a diabetic a bag of sugar. Then did some other government based service before the people decided to put me in the hole as First Speaker. Then I got shot, and decided to take myself out of the line of fire for a while." He took a bite out of the food, and followed it with a sip of wine.

"Speaking of military service, we have something that we hope can solidify relations," he said, motioning towards Holly. She pulled a small box out of her purse, fine grained oak, polished and laquered, witht he Imitoran seal on the cover. She slid it over to Robert, who popped the box open, and turned it so it faced the President.

"Not sure if you were an avid shooter or not, so we decided to take a risk." The weapon was a UMAC M9/5, a 10mm copy of the Beretta M9 9mm pistol. The frame was matte black, as was the barrel, but the slide was polished nicle plating over a stainless stell cover, and the grips were of the same dark laquered oak. The weapon was compinsated, giving it an almost menacing look, and the pistol had a mounted red dot sight. The interior of the box was a crushed red velvet with indintations to hold the pistol and two magazines. Further, along the bottom was a long silver tube, with the words 'Honore y la Gloria-Casa de la Diaz' written on it in fide red script.

"Casa de la Diaz cigars are some of the finest cigars in Imitora, I think you'll like it," Fortier said, sliding the box over to Menva.

Menva whistled softly. "Makha... this is a beautiful weapon. I shall be sure to have a particular model shipped to your palace. Well, as soon as we can find the maker again. Have you ever heard of Etnvo Mikhab?"

Silence. Obviously not.

"He is perhaps the best of the best when it comes to tunvok-nirrik, the arts of weapon-making. His Krubakh .330 and its variants were once the only weapons used in the Burrkhist.

"Sounds good. Always been a fan of rare weapons." Fortier pulled out the Sig, and placed it on the table. "I'm trying this on for size now, but I'm thinking of going with something a bit different. I'm looking for a custom firearms manufacturer to make me a set of weapons that I need."

He placed the sig back in his holster, and let the jacket fall over it. "So tell me, Mr. President, what do the people do here for hobbys?"

"Mostly we farm." This with a grin. "Cantanori and Terpsich fields produce some of the highest-quality - and quantity - products. But that's in the Jakhonikajul, mostly. City-dwellers... well, you know, normal things."

Fortier nodded. "We dont have much in the way of agriculture, most of our population lives in the city, so we usually stick to city things."

"You know... The Menvas-ojitkha is fine, fertile ground. One acre produces more in a year of better quality produce than most other fields you could find. Kantertji River draws perhaps the perfect blend of nutrients from the mountains...

"And on the other hand, the Menva Corporation could use help with the newest projects. I should like to hammer out a trade deal with your countrymen, Patka Fortier."

OOC: just so ya know, I'm all but sans computer durring the break so my posts will be few, but I'm still here.

IC:

Fortier nodded. "I can set up a meeting with our top execs, just tell me what kinda companies your looking for. We prefere to let our corporations trade through their own means, and keep the government out of it. Lasiez fair has worked so far."