NationStates Jolt Archive

Planet Cirrus, homeworld of the Atlantian Federation, Posidopolis

Senator Andromada looked out the balcony of her quarters in the Atlantian Senate halls. Peering over the city, she saw the lights and decorations that lined the streets. She smiled, knowing that in a day, the festivities would begin. The senator walked back inside and out her door. She headed down the hall and stairwell, making her way into the main front hall. Scores of people where working on the decorations, trying to get them done in time for the big event. In the center of the room, a large table lay. Foods of all types, Terran, Atlantian, and several other races, lined its top.

The walls where adorned with olive plants, and Orcilaic ordements. Gold, Silver, and Bronze also lined the wall, and made up the place settings in the table. The place settings where designed to look like Tridents, pyramids, and temples. Smaller tables surrounded the largest one. These where the tables where people would eat. Next to the doorways where giant statues of Posiedon.

"Forgetting something?" asked Commander Vega, coming up from behind her. He held two Tridents in his hands. Handing one over to Andromada, who took it from him, he smiled "Cerimonial, you know"

"Ah, thank you, Commander" said said, returning the smile. Both where dressed in formal white robes.

The personal invitations to Atlantis's closest allies had been sent out, and a general invitation had been sent out via signals to the many different systems.

A Lesui patrol ship is dispatched to Cirrus on the orders of Alphin Natasha Burkavik. It has been instructed to orbit the planet with weapons and defenses offline to show Mirfakan support and trust of the Atlantian nation.

Lesui class (patrol ship): $3,000,000,000
The Lesui class patrol ship is designed to be an all-around warship, specialized for independent operation and defense. Equipped with a full array of powerful weapons, the Lesui class is a very solid attempt to incorporate all the best design elements the Labule has at its disposal into a single vessel. The result is a quick, relatively long-range starship with strong offensive ability. The Lesui class has two significant handicaps however. Firstly, because of its powerful weapons and shields, fuel range becomes an issue during extended periods of alert. Secondly, because of its size and often operating away from other combat vessels, it is practically vulnerable when combating more than a few targets at a time.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v88/Zorak950/NS/PatrolShip.jpg
Dimensions: 200x90x90 meters.
-Powerplant: One substance/antisubstance reaction chamber (300 petawatt maximum output).
-Ion engines: combat speed 1,000 km/s, maximum speed 40,000 km/s.
-Planespace speed: about 40,000,000 c. relative to normal space maximum.
-Maneuvering thrusters: turn radius at maximum combat speed 10,000 meters.
-Fuel capacity: 20,000 liters.
-Fuel range: about 40 days normal operation OR 2 days combat operation.
-Complement: 60 crew, 1 AI.
-Laser cannons (total 6, rating 4):
--Port: 1 (360˚ X-axis rotation, 170˚ Y/Z-axis rotation).
--Starboard: 1 (360˚ X-axis rotation, 170˚ Y/Z-axis rotation).
--Dorsal: 2 (170˚ X/Y-axis rotation, 360˚ Z-axis rotation).
--Ventral: 2 (170˚ X/Y-axis rotation, 360˚ Z-axis rotation).
-Fore antiproton cannon (rating 5).
-Hoksas: 20.
-Shield power rating: 4.
-Armor rating: 3.
-Onboard/Detachable vessels:
--2 Calicke.
--10 Weko.

The PSN Diplo (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/PhoenixMaxwell/starocean_e3_screen006.jpg) was one of the few remaining diplomatic class ships in the slowly aging Phalanix fleet. As it exited from the spacail rift casued by space folds and slowly began to enter orbit of Cirrus. "This is President Echo Maxwell of Phalanix onboard the PSN Diplo. I am about to come down on a small moddified dropship so if you would please send use a location to land. Also I hope you don't mind standard procedure that I have been trying to avoid states that I have to have atleast one body guard with me. I'll try to ensure he plays nice. President Maxwell out."

OCC:Just gona give you a quick look at the president bodyguard. And yes he is only armed with what you see. Albel Nox (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/PhoenixMaxwell/art-018.jpg)
And Echo's new look. Clicky (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/PhoenixMaxwell/so3047.jpg)
Minus the gun.

Queen Nianki ni Gwydion paced her quarters aboard the HHMS Galaxy, the primary diplomatic ship in the recently constructed space fleet. Of course, the fact that the Danaan High Kingdom was in space at all, much less travelling faster than the speed of light, was a rather new phenomenon and due largely to the High Queen's foreign allies. It was amazing. Twenty years ago, the Danaan people had scarcely heard of an automobile. Yes, it was an amazing thing but she feared they owed too much to too many now, were to dependent. Still, it gave her a chance to meet new people, hopeful friends. She hit the button on her comm. "Let them know we're coming."

The luxurious, but relatively small, diplomatic ship travelled with an escort of two cruisers, its sleek form moving swiftly between the stars as it broadcast its message to Cirrus. A crisp male voice was heard over the channel. "Honored lords and ladies of the Atlantian Federation, we would wish for Her Majesty, the Nianki ni Gwydion, Queen of Shieldcrest, to attend your glorious celebration on behalf of the Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream."

The starbase was abuzz with activity. Officers where directing ships left and right. The directions where simple. Take and many shuttles as you wanted, and head down to the surface starpads. There, atmospheric shuttles would drive you to the Senate halls.

In the main hall, the Senators where shooing out the workers, now that the decorations where done.

"With any luck" said Andromada "The others won't see our lesser side"

"Hopefully" said Vega.

The Puddle Jumper left the Stargate on the fringes of this new galaxy.
"We have left Pegasus. I see some activity. This civilisation seems to have been here before we went into ascension. Should I investigate?"
"Roger that. Proceed with caution.You have permission to go there and investigate, establsh links."

Nianki's shuttle settled to the ground and the doors slid open. The sidhe stepped out. She was a radiant woman, both in the sense of being breathtakingly beautiful beyond human possibility and in the sense of literally generating light. Like many sidhe, Nianki seemed to shine with a soft golden glow, an aura of beauty and nobility. Nianki was an extremely muscular woman and her heavily built form showed beneath even the modest gown of green gossamer with gold lining that covered her over six foot frame.

Nianki tossed her golden hair lightly as she stepped from the shuttle, elegantly gliding towards the waiting vehicle with a transcendent smile.

OOC: Just to make this faster, just basicly get here in one post. Or rather, start posting as if you have just arrived.

Nianki arrived at the party, slipping gracefully through the door. Her elegantly tapered, pointed ears were perked as she looked around, seeking an obvious central figure to greet first. Her gossamer gown moved lightly around her, an airy, ethereal affair.

MCL-SL2 arrives in orbit and transmits the following text message:
"Greetings from Alphin Natasha Burkavik. This is the Lesui class starship MCL-SL2 of the Mirfakan Labule. We are here to maintain a presence around Cirrus during the festival. Our weapons and shields have been taken off-line for the duration of our stay to demonstrate the Dominion's continued support and trust of our Atlantian friends. Zĕkäl bĕläl söetän hĕlĕn päžeos toteos : May our good relations last forever."

The small dropship departed from the Dilpo and faster than the standard military model decended towards the spaceport. After only three minutes in flight the dropship gently opened it's landing gear and set down on it's designated landing spot. As the rear hatch opened Echo brushed afew locks of purple hair aside form her eyes and walked off the ramp with Albel about a meter away. He simply looked around the spaceport and kept his arms crossed. He hated his most recent assignment with every bit of his dark soul but he couldn't fight off the president’s request. As they walked towards the atmospheric shuttles Echo slowed down and said so Albel could hear, "Listen up. I don't like having you around so when we are at the festival please just stick to your self and don't kill anyone. It's been along time since we have had contact with the Atlantian's. Our relationship hasn't exactly been great since the mothership projects." "Whatever," Albel said in his usualy tone and picked up the pace to the shuttle. As they boarded the shuttle Echo looked around and quickly found a spot closest to the exit. As soon as the shuttle took off Echo streched and tried her best to ignore the rather rude agent hoping this would be a time that she can forget about the hell she called politics and just relax after years of constant problems.

OOC: Sorry for the wait, I was posting last night, but NS died on me

IC:

Senator Andromada looked behind her as the 1st few guests began to arrive. Behind her, Admiral Vega was shooing the last few workers though the kitchen door.

That was too close... she thought as she turned back around with a bright smile. "Welcome to the annual festival of Posiedon"

The other senators entered the room and began grabbing food off the plate, as well as other Atlantians that had managed to secure invitations. Admirals, Commanders, Generals, heads of the sciance and technology devisions, and a few lesser crew members of the "flagships", as well as a few lucky saps.

Nianki inclined her head to the Senator, arching a brow ever so slightly. "Thank you. It is nice to be here."

BUMP. May the party begin. And yes, I do have a plot....once the party is in full swing.

((OOC: So the Senator makes no ic response to Nianki?))

((OOC: So the Senator makes no ic response to Nianki?))

I'll respond when more people have posted. I want to avoid the long drawn out 10 post greeting between the two because no one else is posting syndrome.

For island nations, there is a special affinity to any god of the oceans. The oceans are their life, their father and it cradles their world. Before the time of wars and space, of decadence and diplomacy, the sea was the end of the world.

At the end of the sea, they said, there was a giant waterfall.

Lord Monroe de Cour, Foreign Minister of the young nation Elegantiae Arbiter, was thinking thus as his fingers trailed across the cool aluminum rail, walking down the stairs of his tiny, obviously unarmed, Spartan diplomatic starship in the hanger of the Posidopolis Senatorial Halls.

He was decadently garbed, long swatches of silk and brightly colored cotton across his shoulders, nearly covering the tight white waistcoat and britches, both of which complemented his slim figure.

His face was the color of coffee, mixed with cream, the color of a man with both French ancestors and those indigenous to the islands that he currently called home. He moved with a wary sort of grace, lithe and smooth and confident. Hesitating on the floor, he glanced up at the door.

As it was to be expected, another man opened the door, and instead of the tawny mixed race of Lord Monroe, this man was as startling white as fine paper. He scampered down the stairs and it was a wonder that he maintained the easy air of dignity and aristocracy, even through the motley dress of a court fool.

His eyes were pink, and his stature was lithe and small, holding himself in a crouched position and grinning delightedly up at Monroe.

“May I present to you, my lord, my light, my liege, the Lady Isabella Castille?” he cooed, a musical voice that dipped and weaved with every word.

At her name, she emerged from the door, to join the two men.

“There is no need, dear LeFou,” she said, her voice the soft and good natured murmur of a court lady and her limpid eyes cool behind a fan. Her accent was different than the two men and so was her facial structure. Hers was not the Gallic lilt or the Frankish delicacy. She had the Iberian tang of a country that had been the intersection of the Moors and Europeans for so long, that even the Caribbean and French couldn’t erase her exotic air.

She wore a sky blue lace dress, distinct from the light and airy costume of the other too. Her family had changed their name from “Castillo” to “Castille” to fit the French language, but no other custom had been changed for the generations they had resided on the Islands.

Her skin was soft and her hair was dark, sleek, straight; distinct from Monroe’s tight, rough curls.
“’Tis True, my lady, ‘tis true,” LeFou continued, bowing exaggeratedly.

“You need no introduction, your shimmering beauty is quite enough,” he said, with just enough exaggeration to be disrespectful.

She rested her hand gently on Monroe’s outstretched elbow and chuckled, a dark little sound.

“Let us just continue, shall we?” Monroe said, his voice sounding strongly Caribbean.

They continued to the hall, the clicking of Monroe’s boots and the soft padding of both LeFou’s and Isabella’s slippers accompanied them down.

The entered the main hall, and Monroe blinked appreciatively at all the decorations. They made their way to the Atlantian officials, LeFou scampering behind them.

Monroe bowed to Commander Vega and Senator Andromada, while Isabella curtsied behind him.

“M’lord, M’lady, I am Lord Monroe de Cours, Foreign Minister of the Holy Empire of Elegantiae Arbiter and this is my companion, Lady Isabella Castille, professional diplomat and the representative of the Iberian Island, on the eastern end of Elegantiae Arbiter. We would ask to join in your celebration of the God Poseidon, and, perhaps, continue a further relationship with your great nation.”

Echo walked slowly always feeling the constant eyes of her escort behind her. She looked around and smiled again. She walked towards Senator Andromada and Admiral Vega and spoke, "I'm Echo Maxwell current president of Phalanix. And that disturbing soul behind me is Albel the represenitive for the council. It is a honor to finaly get to be here." Albel just glanced at the two and walked past them towards a quiet little area where he could keep an eye on his objective.

Andromada nodded at Nianki "Please enjoy your stay"

Next came Lord Monroe de Cours. Andromada took note that the Iberian was a land formation on Earth. "Yes, welcome"

Then there was Echo Maxwell. Andromada was already tired of greeting people. She looked around for Vega, to replace her, but he ducked behind the large table.

"Welcome" she said to the Phalanixian president, then she saw the other one go to the far corner. "What is he doing?" she asked.

"He isn't a people person. They forced him quiet literaly to go. Since he is under the command of the council alone I couldn't do anything about it. And don't worry about him. He'll just glair at people that get near him," Echo replied as she looked around once more.

Nianki arched a perfect brow ever so faintly at the Senator as she shrugged a little and glided past with the impeccable grace that was the birthright of her race. Her gossamer gown made of a thousand dreams (yes, literally) fluttered in the air though there was no wind blowing it. The fabric was lighter than air itself, each strand almost transparent though the layers upon layers protected Her Majesty's modesty well. The intricate patterns of shading seemed to shift and play in the light as she moved, her golden aura glowing brighter for just a moment, like the fires of an angry sun as her face hardened and her eyes blazed bright red, a visage terrible yet still maintaining that strange, ethereal beauty that cannot be quite expressed in words.

Nianki breathed in deeply, the lights surrounding her form calming almost as swiftly as they had flared, forcing down the furious pride that burned in every Gwydion heart. It was a cultural misunderstanding as had happened with the dragon and nothing more. The dragon, after all, had proved to be a most lovely woman.

Nianki smiled a polite smile, a diplomat's smile that she must have picked up from somewhere. She was learning. She was trying. But she still felt at heart that she should not have to smile and nod to gestures of disrespect, accidental or otherwise, from foreign dignitaries.

Not wishing to be brushed off again, Queen Nianki glided towards the Lady Isabella, who seemed currently unengaged in conversation. As the title of lady could convey a number of specific ranks and positions, Nianki decided to err on the side of politeness and gave Isabella a nod exactly as deep as one would expect a queen to give a baroness, at least according to Danaan standards. "Lady Isabella, I do not believe our peoples have had any contact before."

Monroe smiled back at the senator, the smile of a diplomat, as second nature to him as breathing and with the same sort of sparkling severity as a diamond.

It was sharp, and it could probably cut.

She showed an astonishing lack of respect and as the man turned away, stiffly, his eyebrow was raised eloquently.

Isabella, gloved hand resting gently still on his elbow, followed him. Her skirts made the swish-swish noise of silk against skin, and her lace fan fluttered softly in front of her face.

Luckily, the movement put her in all the better position to speak to Queen Nianki.

Her smile glistened, but it was barely visible behind the flickering lace. Drawing the fan away from her face, she inclined her head in a very respectful nod, dipping a small curtsy as she did so.

Lady Isabella was no queen, but she was a powerful aristocrat in her own country. But, she was also a diplomat, and it was unnecessary to remind her that this wasn’t her own country.

And when she spoke, her voice was deep and respectful, almost melodic. But if it was a melody, it was a minor key, for she spoke unusually deeply for a woman.

“This is true, my lady, for my country is young to international diplomacy, though we have dealt internally with such affairs in the past.”

LeFou shook his head at the senator, causing the tinkling of bells and smiling manically.

“M’lady, m’lady, m’light, m’leige,” he said, sing-song, scampering a little closer to her, “Is your party going melancholy? Has the buffet run out? Is the festival unprepared, or-“ he paused, eyes glittering, “is your life just a little down?”

Nianki was impressed. She didn't bother hiding it. She met Isabella's gaze with a look of genuine respect she had given to very few people before and certainly no human until now. Isabella was a noble. Every movement she made, every word she said proclaimed it far more deeply than any formal title ever could. Granted, she had given the queen the wrong honorific but...without an introduction she had no means to know better.

Nianki herself was an anomoly of sorts. Had she been human, she likely would have been a simple tomboy and left it at that. But the Amazonian, warriorwoman physique and personality was added to the supernatural veneer of nobility common to the sidhe people. When you combined who Nianki was with what Nianki was, the synthesis created a rather interesting impression, one of a dashing warrior, a knightly maiden, an Amazon queen.

Smiling, Nianki extended her hand, palm down. "Forgive me, lady. I have you at a disadvantage. I am Queen Nianki ni Gwydion of Shieldcrest, here for the Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream."

"He isn't a people person. They forced him quiet literaly to go. Since he is under the command of the council alone I couldn't do anything about it. And don't worry about him. He'll just glair at people that get near him," Echo replied as she looked around once more.

The Senator had a courious look on her face "I see"

She looked aver at the table. On the end of it where a few bottles of Elarian Ale, used for occasions just like this. It had been years since she had heared anything from Roland, but she was sure he was fine.

"Care for a drink?"

She curtsied again, this time her dip lower and her nod showing a touch more of her glossy black hair.

“Then forgive me, your highness, for my improper speech earlier.”

There was a certain skill in making an apology add to your own dignity, but it was a crucial one for someone with such a low rank in such a high world.

Monroe gravely bowed, but his dark eyes were unafraid to meet the queens, regardless of the thin shield of his long, curling eyelashes.

“It is an honor to meet you, my lady,” he said, gently grasping her extended hand and placing a dry courtly kiss on the back of it. He released it, careful not to linger unseemly long.

The woman spoke again, plucking a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter, “And let us ask the god Poseidon, whom we here worship, to bless our meeting and our countries future friendship.”

She raised the glass up, tilting her head slightly and smiling.

The light refracted through the golden liquid, giving her face an ethereal lighting.

Nianki just smiled, her visage emmitting a warm yellow light. "There is nothing to forgive, lady. You are most courteous and have hardly given cause for offense." As she spoke, she glanced back towards the Senator. Part of her was impressed the woman had been able to ignore the aura flare which directly effects the soul. The rest was simply irritated that the Senator had still taken no care to repair the situation after so obviously offending a guest.

Nianki's brow rose when the kiss actually touched her skin but so did the corners of her lips, smiling warmly at the lord. "The honor is all mine."

Taking a glass of champagne, she raised it along with Isabella. "To friendship." she said simply "and to the worship of all Poseidon and all good gods."

The women had offended more than one guest, because both delegates from Elegantiae Arbiter had made themselves serenely unaware of her presence, deciding at the very least, she was rude and therefore, plebian, and at the worst, she was of very little consequence on the international forum to behave so thoughtlessly. Only LeFou attempted to gain her attention, teasing and taunting and prodding her with paper white skin and paper white hair.

The delegates attention was solely on the Queen.

Lord Monroe was teetotal, and thusly just raised a cupped hand to the ceiling, “To Friendship,” he said.

Isabella sipped gently at the champagne after the toast, leaving a thin film of rouge that was gently coloring her lips on the delicate flute.

“Good gods?” she commented, idly, swirling the glass between several fingers. Her nails were long and painted, and they clicked occasionally against the crystal.

“Have you met many bad gods in your experience, your highness?” she asked, curiosity warming her respectful tone.

Nianki sipped gently at the toast, smiling and leaving no mark.

The sidhe seemed rather taken aback by the question. Nianki paused a long moment, ruminating on Isabella's question. She opened her mouth to speak and then simply closed it again. After a moment, she started. "My lady..." She trailed off, staring blankly into empty space for nearly a minute before returning her attention to the two foreign nobles. "This is not the place to discuss such things. When our nations become friends, as I hope they will, then there are things that I shall share but not things meant for parties or for celebration." Her tone was sombre and severe.

Lady Isabella promptly fell into an apologetic curtsey.

"It was not my wish to offend or distress you, your highness," she said sincerely, "It was an idle question born of idle curiousity and feel no pressure to answer, for I agree. Such weighty talk of sorrow and theology isn't suited for such a pleasent occasion."

Monroe spoke, when she paused.

"Poseiden, friendship and celebration deserve our sole attention on this night."

Nianki grinned brightly. "I quite agree. Though diplomacy might also be an appropriate subject. I feel somewhat improper asking this at another nation's party but we would certainly be interested in opening regular diplomatic contact with your people."

She took another faint sip of her champagne. "Poseidon is not among the gods normally worshipped by our people. However, we do know of him and give him deference and homage as we do all gods of goodness and light."

"The Europeans of our Island worship the Christian God, but those who were there before revere their native dieties. And those of both bloods take the Western Gods and impose their faces and forms on our land, our gods. Agwe becomes Poseidon, Erzulie is Aphrodite and Papa Ge is Hades," Monroe explained, "Our people have a long tradition of adaptability"

He said the words as if they meant nothing, just a piece of trivia that he pulled out of his hat.

But the way Isabella cut in just afterward on the subject of diplomacy told otherwise.

"Diplomatic contact is most desired, my queen. What do you propose?"

The sidhe queen's face flickered in surprise, a broad grin touching her face. "Agwe? That is most interesting."

Nianki turned to Isabella. "An exchange of embassies would be a good place to begin, as well as an exploration of possible trade. That is the normal way to begin to establish normalized relations between states."

"In addition to such a reasonable agreement, I'd suggest that there be a formal meeting between your highness and the Arbiter, what you could call the king of our land," Isabella said.

"We could learn about the differing customs of our peoples, educate ourselves on our history and, perhaps, establish a true friendship of nations, instead of just an alliance."

Suddenly, a being rused out of the kitchen. It looked just like an Atlantian. Silver hair, tanned skin, and slightly taller then Terrans. But there was something different about it. It was not male. Or female. Not fully.

It had long hair, but no breasts. Its face was clean shaven, but looked more like a man's. The body's figure was that of a combination between woman and man. Its eye's where....different. Almost almond shaped.

Behind it, three guards chased after it.

"Stop!" shouted one.

"Halt!" another ordered. The being looked behind it, and saw the three men, and continued to run.

Andromada, about to reach over for the Elarian bottle, saw the scene that was unfolding.

Shit

The being rolled over one of the tables where people where sitting and fell to the ground. It got back up and continued to run...right for (insert character here. Whoever posts 1st gets it)

Suddenly, a being rused out of the kitchen. It looked just like an Atlantian. Silver hair, tanned skin, and slightly taller then Terrans. But there was something different about it. It was not male. Or female. Not fully.

It had long hair, but no breasts. Its face was clean shaven, but looked more like a man's. The body's figure was that of a combination between woman and man. Its eye's where....different. Almost almond shaped.

Behind it, three guards chased after it.

"Stop!" shouted one.

"Halt!" another ordered. The being looked behind it, and saw the three men, and continued to run.

Andromada, about to reach over for the Elarian bottle, saw the scene that was unfolding.

Shit

The being rolled over one of the tables where people where sitting and fell to the ground. It got back up and continued to run...right for (insert character here. Whoever posts 1st gets it)

Nianki nodded. "We do always want to make new friends. And I know the High Queen feels the same way. Right now, we do have ranking royalty on missions of friendship in Knootoss and Lavenrunz, have already secured strong international friendships with Menelmacar and Akaton, as well as having good relations with a rather long list of nations. We believe that there is much our peoples could..."

Nianki paused in mid-sentence, turning to look at the being charing straight towards her. She tensed, setting her glass of champagne down and bracing her legs to take an impact. Otherwise, she neither speaks nor moves to stop the man.

LeFou promptly stops the idle entertainment of a few of the other guests and darts over, in front of the queen.

He clutches his felt hat in one hand, and with a quick flick of his wrists, seems to undo some sort of latch from underneath his right sleeve.

Holding himself in an athletic, fencers stance, he smiles grimly at the thing.

"You're an odd one, you are," he says, with perfect cheerfulness.

Lady Isabella sets her cup down and takes a few quick steps back, while Monroe pivots to face the beast.

He, however, doesn't get in LeFou's way, but calls to the senator.

"What is going on here?" he said, his accent thickening.

Nianki turned to Isabella as LeFou faced down the being. She spoke in a normal, conversational tone, neither secretive nor designed to make a scene. "I am not sure exactly what's happening now. Nonetheless, my treatment since arriving here has been insufferably insulting both to myself and to the nation I represent. My duty to my people and to the High Queen would not allow me to stay under circumstances so degrading to the honor of our nation, given that we came here in good will in response to the Atlantians own invitation. We will be in contact with your most noble and gracious people, unless you should wish to accompany us."

"Ones priveleges as a host come with certain responsibilities and obligations," she said, softly, "Obligations our oh-so-gracious hosts have failed at."

She was attempting not to watch LeFou anxiously and pulled her attention back to the Queen.

"In my mind, she is no host any longer and such priveleges can be denied without any accusation of rudeness."

Nianki inclined her head. "I would be happy to receive you on board my ship, my lord and lady." She kept one eye on the strange confrontation before her.

"Your proposel delights me, my queen," Monroe said, gravely, "And we most thankfully will accept."

Lady Isabella fluttered her fan in front of her face, hiding any anxiety in a thick veil of propriety.

"May our escort attend as well?" she asked, respecfully, making a quick gesture to LeFou.

Nianki nodded. "Of course he may Do we think if would be possible to extract him and simply leave the mad Atlantian to the rest of his people?"

LeFou grinned and wriggled out of the Atlantians grasp, pushing him toward another group.

He etched an elaborate and effusive bow to the queen.

"Incredibly possible, my queen, incredibly possible."

OOC: Esh, now I remember why I don't do these parties. Too many self absorbed people.

Meh, Dream, I've had enough of your spamming my PM box. I'll introduce the plot another way, this RP never happened. Guess I should remember to stick with space nations.

I'm trying not to be rude OOCly, but ICly I have no idea that you guys are ticked, or even why. Maybe your people should be less self-absorbed. And OOCly, I only have a very vauge idea of what is going on.

My "Mad Atlantian" plot will be done some other way. While it was open, I was hoping more then just one of my closer contacts (Phal) would arrive so that I could get the plot done better.

File any counter-argument you will, just know that they will fall on deaf ears...er...eyes. Blind eyes, as I will not respond.

-Game Over-

Nianki nodded, striding towards the exit without so much as a glance at Andromeda. She insisted the attendant take her and the Elegantians back to her shuttle and took them up to her ship with her, letting them send a message to their pilot to leave as well.

OOC: Queens and Nobles do tend to be very self absorbed, yes, but that is in character for them. Any sort of real or percieved slight will tick off embassies, and I'm sorry if I offended you OOCly, I wasn't intending too.


Isabella gathered her skirts and Monroe offered his elbow, dispatching LeFou to tell their pilot to head back home.

The two nobles followed the Queen graciously, escorting eachoter through the halls of the palace.

OOC: Very mature. Your own immense ic (and ooc, in your responses to perfectly polite communications by telegram) rudeness causes a diplomatic failure. Instead of accepting it and dealing with it, responding ic, you just pretend it never happened. Then you ignore anyone pointing this out to you.

I'm trying not to be OOC rude either but why we're ticked off ic should be obvious. When people travel light years in a spirit of friendship and good-will to attend your celebration, you don't give them a dismissive nod and and "Enjoy the party" and expect them to consider it appropriate. My nation has never treated any foreign visitor like that, nor have I ever had a visitor treated like that before, nor have I ever even seen it done in any other thread. If that's how your people are ic, then that's your right, but expect ic consequences for ic actions and don't withdraw the entire thread when they happen.

Also, you did essentially ignore certain innate qualities of my characters. While that is your perogative, I think it is a tad hypocritical to get it from someone who regularly plays demons and angels with abilities that make this one look like nothing.

Anyway, as far as we're concerned, this did happen and our opinion of the Atlantians is shaped by it. If you refuse to acknowledge your own ic defeats, then you are not a fair rper and are on IGNORE.

Thank you and have fun playing with your clique. Sorry only one of them cares enough to come.