NationStates Jolt Archive

Rome, New France – Capital Island of Elegantiae Arbiter

It was the oppressive sort of heat that can only be imagined if you are in the capital building of a small island in the tropics; a capital building built with air conditioning in mind – air conditioning that had horribly, tragically failed.

An Iberian matron grumbled foul-naturedly at all who dared pass by, pumping her delicate silk and lace fan with an unlady-like zeal. This was the woman who had overtaxed the cooling system to the point of breakage, and now she was incredibly peevish at the whole affair.

Arbiter Julian Nero Beauxhomme lounged on a low lying chiffon, the black curls of his hair brushing the top of his shoulders. The heat didn’t seem to make him uncomfortable and the only sign that he was, in fact, a living man instead of a granite statue was the slight glimmer of sweat on his forehead.

His wife came into the room, her loose cotton gown swathing her thin, willowy form with startlingly bright color. When the Arbiter saw her, he smiled brilliantly and sat up straighter.

“My dear!” he said, his voice a pleasant drawl, “You look lovely this morning.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, but couldn’t hide her half smile, “You flatter, Julian. And that isn’t even what I came here to address.”

“What is it then, Euralie? State your business with me, I’m a busy man.”

His voice was gently mocking, gently sarcastic, but his eyes were fond.

“The ball we discussed, our countries ‘coming out ball’. We must carry it through and soon,” she said, fluttering her white lace fan in front of her face, with graceful movements.

“Why the rush, m’lady?” he said, standing up from the chiffon and wandering over to were there were various refreshments displayed on a side table. He popped a cool piece of pineapple into his mouth and held a cube of mango. A servant offered him champagne, which he graciously accepted.

Euralie also took a glass and smiled over a small sip.

“We must make more people aware of our existence. Our country wasn’t made to be unknown and ignored,” she paused. She took another sip.

“And, I’m bored here. Our islands are beautiful and a perfect location for the party.”

Julian laughed and the Iberian Matron looked disapproving, “Well, my darling, your talk of diplomacy didn’t convince me, but your boredom certainly does. You have my permission to schedule it as soon as you find feasible; ask Lord Armand and his wife for their assistance.”

She curtsied.

“Thank you, my lord.”

-----------

Priapus Ballroom, Rome, New France.

The First Lady Euralie was quite the efficient hostess.

The ballroom was absolutely stunning, with an astonishing amount of lit candles. They were suspended from candelabras hanging from the ceiling and they rested on the several tables artfully scattered around the edges of the room, bearing refreshments and vibrant displays of fresh exotic flowers.

And Euralie herself sparkled nearly as much as the well-lit room.

Her ebon skin gleamed with good health and seemed to shine almost like there were glitter embedded instead of pigment.

Around he long slim neck was a chocker of three rows of diamonds, matching her serene little smile and the two large diamonds at each ear. Around her wrists were, unsurprisingly, more diamonds.

Compared with such gaudy complexity of her jewelry, the simple white dress she wore seemed overly simple, and such an impression was only countered by a colorful, frantically pattered silk shawl that was draped around her shoulders.

She was an elegant, sophisticated figure and the way she watched the servants finish the final preparations for the event showed quiet confidence.

Invitations had been sent out to all those that would take them, with special friends getting the highest notion.

As the last delicacies of fine, fresh fruit and sparkling white wine on shining trays were carried out by well-dressed servants, the band started playing a slow waltz.

The Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream gladly accepts your invitation and shall send someone to your party fortwith.

((OOC: Sorry for short post. I'm running late. I'll make a real one tonight and start that other thread.))

We await your arrival with the greatest excitement and pray that you will enjoy our gathering and the beauty of our islands.

-the Arbiter


((OOC: No problem ^^))

As he stood outside the ornate doors of the ballroom, engraved invitation in hand, Darius Steele smoked his trademark cheroot while observing the others around him. He practiced some of the French phrases he had downloaded earlier, hoping to get the pronunciation right.

"Bonjour, comment allez vous?"

"Ou est le salle de bain?"

"Voulez-vouz couchez avec moi?"

He had mumbled these mostly aloud, and at the last one, a number of heads turned to look at him in amusement, then wonder. He was a big man, well over 6 and a half feet of thick, solid muscle, but it was eyes that arrested your attention. They glistened like sparkling orbs, the only indication that he was not completely human.

He waited patiently, drawing in the smoke from his small cigar, and waited for the ballroom to open and the party to start. He was developing a helluva thirst, and needed to drown some accumulated sorrows. He had left his heart on a faraway planet, his love unrequited for the beautiful Elven-Vampire Queen named Lauralin. He hoped that he might meet someone to help him forget her, if only for a few moments.

Sen.John Patrick would like to attend this party.

Sen.John Patrick would like to attend this party.

Belanova yawned as she wandered around the ball, looking to see if there was anyone here she knew. The Ravean diplomat was not quite dressed for the occasion; she wore large brown traveling boots, green knee-lenth shorts, and a tan jacket over a grey short-sleeved shirt. Her hands were in a pair of heavy brown gloves. The only thing about here that seemed remotely appropriate for this Ball was a large and delicate green bow in her flowing black hair. Her eyes were large and green, looking through the pair of circular sunglasses she always wore.

Belanova sighed somewhat irately. Her travel agent had said that this was a Party, not a formal ball. Ah, well. Sometimes it helped to stand out. The diplomat yawned again. She hoped that the music would at least be good; her higher-ups had reccomended her for his assingment for her exellant dancing skills. Still, it seemed like every other week she was going to some kind of "international party" of some sort.

Belanova rocked back and forth on her heels as she scanned the other guests and waited for the party to begin.

Lady Armand was running just a touch late.

Her white shawl was delicately embroidered and wrapped around her shoulders, covering their paleness as revealed by the strapless nature of the lovely, glittering evening gown she wore.

Her hair, a deep red, was left free instead of being coifed up in a sugary confection, floating down her shoulders. That hair color left her with few options for clothing that didn’t clash, and the slim, gathered gown was in a black.

It was in a style non-native to the Islands, but Lady Armand was ever-so-fashionable, and her exotic choices gave her ever so much class and distinction.

She took a quick breath at the sight of the man outside the doorway, and regretted it as she got a mouthful of smoke.

Dipping a curtsey to him, she introduced herself,

“I am Lady Andrea de Armand, and I welcome you to our Island.”

Her voice was soft and vaguely enchanting, and her eyes were amused as she looked him over.

------

Back in the ballroom, the First Lady glanced around at the gathered people. It wasn’t an anxious glance, for anxiety was beyond her range of emotional expression.

With dignity like hers, anxiety just wasn’t possible.

She did, however, notice guests that had not been greeted or introduced. This she could quite easily repair.

Gliding over to the casually dressed woman, the woman nodded.

“Welcome, stranger,” she said, and it was a warm greeting, “I pray you will not remain one for long. I am First Lady Euralie Beauxhome and I welcome you to this island.”

--------
Sen. John Patrick is most welcome to attend
- the Arbiter

King Gregory ap Liam glided gracefully into the room, wearing a fine white tunic, blue leggings, and a blue cloak fastened with a shining silver buckle. He brushed his shining brown hair behind an elegantly pointed ear as he took in the room, a smile on his face. Queen Nianki had told him much of these people but he was still fascinated to get a first-hand look.

One week earlier, in Torokara:

"Dammit, Kiv! There's no way we can make that! I've got to get ready for a religious ceremony on the other side of the planet, and we're under near-constant threats of war. No, no, and no! In that order!" The Commander of Krioval continued packing for his trip to Tanah Burung.

"Oh come on, Raijin. We haven't done anything fun in ages. Besides, you're supposed to be the fun-loving spontaneous one in this relationship."

"Well, they do appear to accept same-sex marriage..." Raijin looked hopeful for a second.

"Get your mind out of the gutter!" the General spit back. While Raijin's face attempted to create surprise where there was none, Kiv continued undaunted. "Remember, my love, I am a functional telepath."

"Well, Mr. Functional Telepath, can you see what I'm thinking now?"

"Gyah!"

Raijin laughed loudly and deeply. As his gloom dissipated, he thought, Maybe this wouldn't be the worst thing to do, to go to the party.

And you'd be right - for once.

"Get out of my mind. But you're right. We need to do something fun. Besides, in front of these people, I might not have to call you my 'friend.'"

"Yeah. Because we know how embarrassing it can be for one 'friend' to start making out with another 'friend' after having a couple too many drinks."

"That was over two months ago, Kiv. I'd appreciate you letting that one go." Raijin then picked up a pen and paper, and wrote back to the Arbiter.

To the Esteemed Arbiter,

Myself and Lord Kiv Andros will be attending your gala as representatives of the Armed Republic of Krioval. At what time should we arrive?

Lord Raijin Dekker, Commander of Krioval

Official Correspondance from Elegantiae Arbiter

Honored Friends:

Your desire to attend our fete delights us and we welcome you most openly to our beautiful islands. We hope you will enjoy your stay on New France, our Capital Island, and the gala event planned for foreign dignitaries such as yourselves.

We are hospitible no matter what time you deem most convienient, but the event itself begins at roughly eight, Elegantian standard time.

-Julian Nero Beauxome, Arbiter


The Arbiter himself waltzed into the room, slimmming white waistcoat and a shawl that matched his wife's.

Glancing around the room for someone who hasn't been attended to, he noticed the king from Resurgent Dream.

Julian nodded to him respectful, moving toward him. It was a nod as one would give to an equal, another leader of the country.

"Hello, my lord, I don't believe that we've been introduced. I am Arbiter Julian Beauxhome and welcome to my country."

Dipping a curtsey to him, she introduced herself,

“I am Lady Andrea de Armand, and I welcome you to our Island.”

Her voice was soft and vaguely enchanting, and her eyes were amused as she looked him over.



He was immediately overwhelmed by her delicate beauty, and drawn to her crimson mane like a moth to a flame. Her voice was silk, languid and filled with innocent humor. He lost himself in her skin for a moment, before he caught her scent, a musky blend of exotic spices and secret promise. Steele was a warrior-born, able to face hordes of enemies without flinching, a veritable one-man army...except for one weakness:

Women.

Without hesitating, he bowed down low to her, sweeping his arm gracefully behind him. He used the movement to mask the quick flick of his wrist that launched his burning cheroot in a straight line, landing directly in a tall, sand-filled vase. His aim was impeccable, as were his words.

"M'Lady, I am Darius Steele, representing the Freeland of Gawdly. May I say that it is truly an honor to be here in your beautiful homeland, and to be welcomed in such a warm fashion. I hope that our two great nations can explore the possibilities of trade relations and..."

Steele paused, looking at the beautiful young woman. He noticed that she seemed very amused by his words...words that were rehearsed, and not really his own. He smiled down at her, and lowered his voice.

"Listen, I'll be honest with you: I've been in a starship for 2 days, and I could really use a drink right about now. Howabout you and I hit the nearest bar, and put the politics aside for tonight?"

As he waited for her reply, he was also scanning the ballroom and recording the faces of all the guests, rapidly matching them to his vast database, and adding new entries as needed. Of course, it was another woman who caught his attention. She seemed vaguely out of place, dressed more for hiking than a royal ball. Her thick black hair framed a face that seemed attractive, but hidden behind dark sunglasses. The security man in Steele was intrigued by this incongruity, but not enough to give up the opportunity before him.

Continuing to smile, Steele waited for Andrea to respond.

Gregory smiled brightly, returning the nod. "I am King Gregory ap Liam of Holista, representing the Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream. I have heard very good things about you and your people and I came here partly in the interest of establishing good relations and...partly to enjoy a lovely evening."

Belanova whistled happily as the doors to the ballroom opened; she and the rest of the guests flooded inside. The Ravean diplomat still felt out of place as she mingled with other foreigners. She looked up as she was greeted by a women wearing a vast array of dazzeling jewelry and a white dress. Belanova almost choked on a cocktail when she learned that this was the First Lady!

"Ah, what a pleasure to meet you!" Belanova spoke quickly and nervously, taken by suprise. "My name is Belanova Orlove-although Belanova will do just fine. I am the Ravean diplomat to Elegantiae Arbiter."

She shifted her eyes, somewhat embaressed.

"I'm afraid that I am not appropriately dressed for the occasion, and I apologize for this. I hope my actions do not reflect my country; we are usally not so unprepared." She brightened a little bit and held out her gloved hand. "Still, thank you for your welcome. It is good to be here!"

Message To: To whom it may concern, Offices of the Arbiter of the Holy Empire of Elegantiae Arbiter
Message Fr: Offices of the Arkhreifane of the Exterior, Kel Eridhant, Tsaraine
Message Re: A most intriguing party

Dear sir,

The Greater Ascendancy would be most interested in sending a representative of our nation to attend the ball we are told you will shortly be holding; we are most interested in learning more about your fine nation.

If it is permitted, we would be honoured to send Diplomat-Commandant Ksarine arKterekhet; she is one of our younger diplomats, and has served the Ascendancy well in Ekatori and Samarkant. I am certain she shall enjoy your event.

Sincerely,

~ Ksravi Ekina
Arkhreifane of the Exterior


OOC: Jolt doesn't recognise the bits in quote tags, so I have to add this to make it post...

The two Kriovalian men entered the building dressed in some of the brightest uniforms known to Creation. The taller of them seemed at ease in his surroundings; he knew that his senses would detect the slightest danger before it befell him or his partner. The shorter (if you could call Raijin "short") looked like he was way in over his head, mainly because he was. Diplomacy was not the forte of the Commander of Krioval. In fact, Raijin had practically ordered Kiv to walk with arms linked, his disquiet only calmed by his confidant and partner of six years.

Kiv practically dragged Raijin into the grand ballroom, and in his characteristic manner, drummed up a conversation with a nearby figure.

"May I present the delegation of Krioval." The way the general said it, it wasn't so much a question, but still sounded friendly enough. "I am Kiv Andros, and this is Raijin Dekker." He smiled warmly. "Have we missed anything interesting?"

Andrea laughed, and it was a bright tinkling sound. As if faintly astonished by her own impropriety, she drew a perfumed hand delicately above her lips. Above such modesty, her eyes glittered.

“Oh, monsieur!” she said, and the delight wasn’t even half hidden behind the scandal.

“You shock me, monsieur, I don’t know what to say,” she continued. Her hand drifted from her mouth to rest on her cheek, before sliding beneath her chin and stroking it gently.

“Except, perhaps, yes of course!”

------

The Arbiter’s eyes lit up in recognition, “Oh yes! The Lord Monroe has told me many things about your people, many things that I have liked among them. My only regret is that I do not know more and we do not know each other better.”

The shawl that loosely draped around his arms and shoulders and the long, clossy black hair that curled down to meet it on any other man would have seemed feminine. On him, it was only more proof to his supreme masculinity.

“Yet, as you say,” he continued, his voice bearing the serenity that was commonplace among their people, “I do hope you enjoy yourself here, above all. That is the purpose of such parties.”

-------

Euralie’s smile was warm, and her arm spread forward to display the extravagantly decorated room.

Her jewels tinkled slightly as she did so.

“Madame, this party isn’t for our sake,” she said, softly, “It is for you to have a pleasant time, amidst pleasant company. If you are comfortable in your attire, then no one here will berate you for it.”

“Ours is a friendly island, filled with friendly people. Our finery is enjoyable, true, but I know many among this government that would just as well take you to their clan’s campfire and show you a ritual dance to Azaka for luck. You and your country are welcome here and our hospitality yours for the asking.”

The Lady noticed the two new entrants to the hall, idly chatting to another guest. Without drawing her attention away, she beckoned to them.

“Please, my lords, introduce yourselves. I would wish to know the names of two such dashing men and potential friends to my people.”

In a room filled with diplomats, the young woman- the First Lady found herself being friendly, and paused a moment to marvel at the thought.

------

Official Correspondence to the Offices of the Arkhreifane of the Exterior, Kel Eridhant, Tsaraine

Honored Friends:

Our fete is opened to all friendly nations who wish to attend, and we particularly see your offer with warmth. Your nation and all you choose to send to join us in our celebration is most courteously welcomed and most joyfully received.

The most respected diplomat you propose is welcome and shall meet with the greatest hospitality our people can supply.

We hope this interaction leads to a glorious relationship of your nation and mine.

Gregory smiled warmly. "I am most pleased to hear that. We would be happy to grow to know your people better as well. Queen Nianki has told me great things."

He laughed a little. "I do expect to have a lovely time. Your party seems quite the sucess already."

"Your kind words delight me, good king, and again I extend my welcome to you," he said, gesturing to the refreshments as if to suggest they head toward them.

"Have you enjoyed your stay thus far, as brief as it might be, on our islands?"

Gregory nodded. "Indeed I have. Your island is simply beyond lovely. And the people are most gracious and hospitable."

He paused, clasping his hands before him lightly. "So this is the first such celebration your nation has hosted?"

Raijin's mood had indeed progressed as Kiv continued to chat up the various guests in the ballroom. Unfortunately, it was a progression from a vague uneasiness to complete and total dissatisfaction. Look at themem, he thought, his mind working to justify the frustration he felt. Playing their little games, flirting like that - it's disgraceful. And there's my beloved, right there with them. He started toward a balcony, but paused when he felt Kiv's mental presence.

Raijin... The mixture of guilt and exasperation hit the Commander like a hammer. So Raijin did the only thing he could think of.

Five minutes. Alone. He pressed a button and felt the mental link dissolve. Kriovalian scientists had found a way to block unwanted telepathic contact on a limited scale. Raijin felt a slight thrill at what he could only guess was his partner's shock that he'd dare go so far. Without looking back, the leader of Krioval walked outside to gaze at the night sky and listen to the rolling of the ocean.

"We host frequent parties for our own people, but never before on this scale and never before with such a varied host of people and countries invited."

The Arbiter smiled, "But such diversity pleases me greatly."

More Elegantians trickled into the room, exchanging pleasentries and retrieving snacks.

A man, startingly blond among all the dark skinned and dark-haired folk of the island, popped a cube of mango in between his red lips.

Spotting the Arbiter and his companion, the Lord Armand -personal advisor and confidant of the Arbiter, sauntered his way over.

He bowed, gracefully, "Monsieur," he said, gravely, "May I join your conversation or would such a thing be rude."

He was careful not to look at Julian, but Julian looked at him and smiled, softly. It was a more personal smile than anything previously seen.

Gregory nodded. "You should get used to it. I am sure many people will wish to see these lovely, lovely isles." He remained silent at the exchange, sensing something of a personal nature.

Andrea laughed, and it was a bright tinkling sound. As if faintly astonished by her own impropriety, she drew a perfumed hand delicately above her lips. Above such modesty, her eyes glittered.

“Oh, monsieur!” she said, and the delight wasn’t even half hidden behind the scandal.

“You shock me, monsieur, I don’t know what to say,” she continued. Her hand drifted from her mouth to rest on her cheek, before sliding beneath her chin and stroking it gently.

“Except, perhaps, yes of course!”

He noted the flush of color that rose in her cheeks, and watched, enraptured as she drew her elegant hand across her mouth. He imagined the softness of her lips, parting beneath his, breath mingling, their tongues flicking in the age old dance...he shook his head mentally to clear it, offered his thick, muscled arm to his escort and followed the lovely Andrea into the whirlwind of sound and vision that was the ballroom.

As they walked, Steele's AI kept pushing information to him, keeping him abreast of the guests around him. A brief thrill went through him when his database got a firm match: King Gregory ap Liam of Holista, the representative from the Resurgent Dream. Steele had wanted to get closer to this enigmatic people for quite a while, and it seemed that opportunity had reared its head. He also caught sight of the dark-haired woman wearing sunglasses, now engaged in conversation with another member of the Elegantiae council. He still had no firm match for her, but the night was young.

They approached a long, ornately-wrought table, covered in exotic foodstuffs and watched over by four very efficiant servants. One of them was pouring drinks, and Steele made a beeline towards him. After letting Andrea place her order, he asked for bourbon, and when the servant lifted his eyebrow questioningly, the big man leaned over and whispered.

"Pour me a big glass of the strongest stuff you have, son..."

After they had received their drinks, he sniffed his own briefly. From the vapor, his body was able to quickly break down the componenets of the liquor, analysing it for threats, and adjusting his metabolism to protect against poisoning and over-indulgence. Satisfied, he raised his glass and toasted Andrea.

"To the people of Elegantiae Arbiter, may they live long and prosper well...and to you, Lady Andrea, a most beautiful representative of your people." He sipped from the glass, enjoying the burning velvet that flowed down his throat.

Belanova blinked at Euralie as she heard her response, then grinned. She was starting to like Elegantiae Arbiter more and more. She turned to see what had caught Euralie's attention and spotted two tall men. She rotated to face Euralie again.

"Well, I do hope our two nations have started on good terms and become frinends in the future. Now, if you would be so kind to excuse me, I am feeling a little partched. I'l be back in a minute."

Belanova wandered over to the bar and asked for a water. She had never been a huge fan of alchohol and had avoided it whenever she could. Belanova turned and noticed a women with flaming red hair a short way away from her, and the man making a toast to her. She raised her glass along with him.

"Here, here." She took a long gulp of water, quenching her thirst.

He had watch her graceful extraction and measured approach out of the corner of his eye, noting the fluid way she moved. She walked on the balls of her feet, like a well-trained fighter. As she joined them in the toast, Steele turned to nod at her, moving his large body enough to create a space for her to join them. The words "menage a trois" flew through his mind quickly, and he realized he had spent much too much time alone on his ship. He smiled at the newcomer as they drank.

"Well met, madame...allow me to introduce Lady Andrea de Armand, one of our hosts for this evening. I am Darius Steele, President of Gawdly, and one helluva lucky guy to be in the company of the two most beautiful women at the party." He winked and smiled, draining his drink.

Armand took the silence as assent e and bowed again, “Good evening, Monseiur, I am the Lord Armand and I welcome you to our islands, though I am certain that Arbiter Beauxhome has done so already.”

He stood back up, straight, and he was taller than the Arbiter. He also lacked the other mans wide frame, and, instead, was lithely built and with almost willowy limbs. He wore sky-blue breeches and a creamy cotton waistcoat, complimenting his fair skin and hair.

Julian introduced the king, “ King Gregory of the Resurgent Dream, this is my highest advisor and close friend. He and his wife assisted greatly in the planning of the party.”

Armand nodded his head, “I do hope you enjoy yourself, my king.”


-----

Andrea’s hand rested delicately on his arm, and she gathered the ruffled skirts into her other hand. Her tiny, slippered feet padded beside him and she gazed up at him.

Her smile was warm and coy, but her eyes were clearly examining.

When he looked at her, head ducked away coltishly.

At the bar, she ordered a scotch.

She took the liquid between her hands, swirling it around in the thick crystal glass. She raised it up with him, and smiled.

“May our countries prosper and may we serve them well – either with beauty or with brawn.”

At the last, her hand ever-so-slightly squeezed his arm,

When Belanova walked up, her smile grew.

“Welcome, m’lady.”

Message To: To whom it may concern, Offices of the Arbiter of the Holy Empire of Elegantiae Arbiter
Message Fr: Offices of the Arkhreifane of the Exterior, Kel Eridhant, Tsaraine
Message Re: Re: A most intriguing party

Thank you, friends!

Diplomat-Commandant arKterekhet shall depart forthwith.

Sincerely,

~ Ksravi Ekina
Arkhreifane of the Exterior


Past

"Reentry in one minute, Commandant."

Ksarine nodded vaguely, and watched the world turn beneath her. Elegantiae Arbiter was on the far side of the world from the Greater Ascendancy, and to get there on short notice required not the usual diplomatic jet but an exoatmospheric hop via spaceplane.

It really was too short notice; she'd got back from duty in Samarkant only last week, and had been enjoying her off-time before transferral to some more onerous position - junior diplomat at the embassy in Undant, perhaps, or Aestrakhant. According to convention, a Diplomat-Commandant must serve in all six of the Border States before promotion to Ambassador-Commandant - and experience outside Tsaraine's immediate sphere of influence never hurt.

Hence this trip, nothing more difficult than a party; not difficult at all, compared to the Ekatorik-Samarkantim border squabbles. You never knew - she might even find herself enjoying it.

Present

Despite the tropical heat, Ksarine looked to be carved from ice; white hair, white skin, and eyes a glacial blue. It was nothing unusal, back home - as Tsaraine's third largest ethnicity (behind the Sche'dayach and the Tsakh), there were over half a billion Ktrazirha with similar features.

Granted, not all of those had her fine-boned, delicate beauty (what they called Rekhinakh in Tsaraine, queenly, and said that she'd make a fine queen, were the Ascendancy a monarchy).

Still, for all that, she entered the Priapus Ballroom with little fanfare; a good Diplomat-Commandant did not let appearances get the better of her.

Enjoy myself. Right.

Belanova smiled at the pair, somewhat attracted to Darius's charm as she winked at him.

"I'm flattered, Darius. I haven't met many men as charming as you. My name is Belanova Orlove; Happy to meet you both!" She jumped next to Darius as finished her water.

"I'm the Ravean diplomat of the party; it looks like this is going much better than I expected!" She patted Darius's leg. "How are you two enjoying it so far?"

For lack of a better word, Darius was currently "tingling". On one arm he had the exquisite Andrea, holding his large bicep tightly, and smiling at him with increased promise. When Belanova put her hand on his thigh, the tingle morphed into heat, and it took all his skill to pretend he was unaffected. They were two completely different beings...one, a gentle, elegant wisp of womanhood, the other a more street-wise and rough n' tumble ragamuffin. Either way, both were stunning, and both had his undivided attention. He smiled back at Belanova, his golden eyes sparkling with delight.

"Personally, I have been enjoying this place since I arrived, but it certainly got better quickly..." he turned slightly to Andrea, acknowledging her as one of the reasons.

"Ravea, eh? A name I'm familiar with, but a people I have yet to truly meet. Perhaps we should find some time later to do the diplomatic thing together?"

He was about to add a slightly off-color remark to his speech, when an alarm sounded urgently in his head. Drilling quickly down his internal menu, he noticed that his sensors had picked up a brief flash of telepathy nearby. He focussed his receivers, and tried to triangulate where it came from. As quickly as it started, it stopped. He let his A.I. run it's scan in the background as he returned his attention to the beautiful ladies in front of him.

Another mystery.

Gregory smiled radiantly. "It is quite nice to meet you, then. You have done a splendid job on the party so far."

He paused a long moment, considering as he took a long look about the room. "Perhaps you could introduce me to some of your other guests?"

The fresh sea breeze and sound of the waves had done much to calm the Commander of Krioval. He had even relaxed his telepathic blocker, on the off chance that Kiv needed to talk to him. But the Andros General was wandering on the far side of the room, obviously trying to give Raijin as much space as possible. Gods, am I that predictable? Raijin thought. He began to walk back into the ballroom, intent on at least putting on a respectable face for Krioval. Then he saw her. In all his thirty-six years, Raijin had never seen a woman so absolutely striking. For one, she was so absolutely white. While Krioval was ethnically diverse, nobody looked remotely like that. And her eyes...

Should I be jealous? Kiv's "voice" interrupted. Go talk to her. Just remember that you came here with me.

Raijin had totally forgotten that his "shields" were down. He abruptly reactivated the blocker, but not before catching the slightest hint of a psychic giggle from his partner. Figuring he had nothing to lose, the Commander walked toward the newcomer.

"Hello. I'm Raijin, from Krioval. I'm pretty sure we've never met, since I don't think I'd forget someone like you." He mentally cursed himself for that last line. Mentally flailing, the best he could do was "uh...would you care for a drink?"

Belanova giggled and nudged Darius.

"Sure thing...We can get 'Diplomatic' any time you want!" She grinned and almost burst out laughing as she spoke. She slid her glasses down to the edge of her nose, her eyes sparkeling behind them, and smiled at Darius warmly.

Belanova turned to look through the crowd again, spotting several important people. She thought she saw what looked like the king of The Resurgent Dream gliding around, but she wasn't really sure.

"Sure are a lot of Bigwigs around here." She commented as she swung back to Darius and Andrea. "It feels kind of strange to be around all of 'em, being only a lowly diplomat and everything."

Should I be jealous? Kiv's "voice" interrupted. Go talk to her. Just remember that you came here with me.

Raijin had totally forgotten that his "shields" were down. He abruptly reactivated the blocker, but not before catching the slightest hint of a psychic giggle from his partner.

There it was again, the briefest of flares but definitely a psi wave. Enough of a trace was left to follow back to the source, which the A.I. quickly identified to be a tall man, dressed in a blindingly bright, military uniform. There was no match in the database, but at least Steele knew who the telepath was. He quickly checked his own rudimentary mind-shields, satisfied that they would protect him from anything short of an active probe. The large man returned to the company of the ladies, waving the bartender over to refill their empty drinks.

"Hello. I'm Raijin, from Krioval. I'm pretty sure we've never met, since I don't think I'd forget someone like you." He mentally cursed himself for that last line. Mentally flailing, the best he could do was "uh...would you care for a drink?"

"Hello, Raijin from Krioval." Ksarine smiled, careful not to let her amusement show on her face - she hadn't seen uniforms that ornate in Samarkant, where the military junta sprinkled their chests liberally with medallions.

"I don't believe we have, no - I'm Ksarine arKterekhet, from the Greater Ascendancy of Tsaraine. And certainly - I would love a drink."

"Hello, Raijin from Krioval." Ksarine smiled, careful not to let her amusement show on her face - she hadn't seen uniforms that ornate in Samarkant, where the military junta sprinkled their chests liberally with medallions.

"I don't believe we have, no - I'm Ksarine arKterekhet, from the Greater Ascendancy of Tsaraine. And certainly - I would love a drink."

"Great! What will my Lady be hav...THE Tsaraine?!" the Kriovalian nearly fell over. I've just walked up to a random person, and she's from one of the biggest places I've heard of. Raijin looked sheepishly up at the (leader? diplomat?) delegate. "Sorry. It's just that I've heard so much about your 'Escalating Cuteness Levels'. That and I'm probably the world's worst at diplomacy. But, if you'd like, I'd be interested in having that drink. Is my Lady still interested?" He attempted a graceful bow, and completed it halfway competently, despite being terribly out of practice.

Andrea smiled.

It was coyer than the other woman's and she didn't go so far as nudge him.

Her thumb gently traced a pattern on his arm, though, and the fan fluttered lazily in front of her face, "Diplomacy, darlings, has always been a particular specialty of mine."

At Belanova's further words, her smile gleamed.

"I know! I am so terribly pleased for dear Armand and Lady Euralie. They both worked so hard and this gala," she said, and her voice was more natural than anything yet, "I do hope it goes fabuously for them."

-----

The Arbiter nodded gently at the king and Armand, holding out a hand as if in beckoning.

"That idea is truly splendid, expecially considering that your delightful company has quite distracted me from introducing myself. Shall we, your highness?"

He said, begining to head toward the icy-white lady and her companion. Reaching them, both he and Armand etched an elegant bow.

The three of them standing next to each other were quite the study in opposites. The Arbiter Julian, ebony skin and ebony hair, black as night and equally as inscrutible. The Lord Armand, tawny skin and golden hair, with bright green eyes and faintly flushed cheeks.

The diplomate, cool and white, endlessly mysterious.

As Julian introduced himself and the others, he spoke also to the tall man, as if to reassure him that he had no intention of being rude.

"Hello my lord and my lady, I am the Arbiter Julian Nero Beauxhome, your host for this evening. This is my companion, Lord Daniel Armand and a king of the Resurgant Dream, King Gregory. It is a pleasure for you to join us here this evening."

-----

Gregory glided along with the Arbiter, smiling. "We shall, of course."

As they arrived, he gave a soft, radiant smile to the pale woman, though he himself had rather pale skin, and her companion. "The King of Holista to be precise. It is quite a pleasure to meet you, I'm sure."

"The Tsaraine?" Ksarine quirked a brow, and smiled. "I wasn't aware there was more than one ... but yes, I'm from the Greater Ascendancy.

""Escalating Cuteness Levels**?" I think that way a joke by the Samarkantim ambassador to Tsaraine, when the Invincible People's Federation*** joined the Non-Democratic Alliance - "With allies like these" - I'm paraphrasing - "Your cuteness levels shall escalate to such a degree you shall not need soldiers - only kittens and flowers, and nobody will be able to wage war against you."

"I wasn't aware that it had spread outside the Border States at all - we keep to ourselves most of the time, and that, I think, is why we have managed to avoid war, rather than any kittens and flowers.

"And I am sure that you can't possibly be the world's worst diplomat, Raijin - as a member of that trade myself, I've heard some rather absurd stories.

"And yes, I'd still be interested in a drink." Ksarine bowed neatly at the waist in the Tsarainese fashion, hands clasped at the waist.

"Oh, but we have company - Your Lordships, Your Majesty." She bowed again, the full ninety degrees prescribed for one's host, nobility, or the Arkhaeron of the Orthodox Faith in Tsaraine.

"Arbiter Beauxhome, the pleasure is mine - I have not been in your nation long, but what I have seen is delightful.

"Your Majesty of Holista - it is indeed a pleasure." She returned his smile with one of her own.

"And Lord Armand. Charmed, I'm sure."

OOC:
* I went to see Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow today - and yes, I want an amphibious plane.
** I mess about with my pretitle a lot - while it may read "Exploding Bobs" or "Hyperventilating Goldfish" or, indeed, "Elevating Cuteness Levels", the actual title of the nation is "The Greater Ascendancy of Tsaraine".
*** The Invincible People's Federation of GMC Military Arms is an ally of mine, as is the Technocratic Ogliarchy of The Most Glorious Hack (as a protectorate of the Federation). For some reason all their characters are cuter than mine.
Oh yes, there's a map of Tsaraine here (http://shade.jonpearse.net/Map.jpg) - the nations around Tsaraine are basically NPCs, mainly there to fill up space. Red dots mark capitals.

Her touch was electric, and her voice hypnotizing. Again, Steele was forced to mentally clear his mind of the graphic images that danced in the shadows. Andrea was quickly drawing him into her web, and he was a willing victim. A brief warning was quickly ignored, but came back to roost: why was he so attracted to her, so quickly? He looked at her analysis, noting that she was not emitting any pheromones that would specifically attract males, nor was she using any obvious means of mind control...but she WAS stunning. Her delicate hand looked very small on his arm, but the heat it generated was substantial.

"If I may be so bold, M'Lady Andrea, what is your role in the household of Armand and Euralie? Perhaps you can also tell us a bit about your people and history, as well?" Anything...anything to keep her talking to him.

Before she could answer, the band broke into a musical expression of joy, with a sound that was reminiscent of a grand waltz. Steele looked at the two women, wanting desperately to dance with both, but knowing that asking one meant slighting the other. With any luck, one of them would ask him, negating the need for him to make any decision. He smiled at the eruption of music, his foot tapping and his eyes drawn to the band.

"Oh. The Greater Ascendancy," he corrected quickly. "That does seem more likely a descriptor. As to the error, it was likely due to one of my Foreign Advisor's flights of fancy. He snatches bits of information as if from the ether and assembles them as best he can, but his imagination sometimes runs.

"As to being a diplomat, I confess that foreign relations aren't my background, but that I was trained mostly in science and the military."

Raijin watched the polished diplomat greet the approaching figures, he decided it would be best to follow suit. After all, who was likely to make a mistake here, Ksarine or the Commander of Krioval? At each greeting, he returned the bow. Finally. Royal blood appears to be good for something after all.

"I am honored to meet my host at last, Lord Arbiter. Thank you for the invitation this evening.

"And Your Majesty. I have heard great things of your country."

The Kriovalian paused when he saw Lord Armand. He reminds me of someone - but I can't place who. Raijin stifled the impulse to run his hands through his hair - that would mess up the spiked effect.

"Lord Armand, is it? It's good to meet you as well."

OOC: Sorry about the "Cuteness levels". Though it's definitely a mistake Raijin would make - over and over.

Meanwhile, Kiv Andros leaned slightly against one wall, passively sampling the thoughts of partygoers as if tasting a delicate wine. As he directed his attention from one side of the room to the other, he locked in on a man with two women at his side.

I wonder if that's the guy who was intercepting earlier. Not that it's a big deal, but he looks to be somewhere else by now. Kiv shook his head. There was absolutely no way he was going to play "mind games" with this man. While it would be tempting to push him "over the edge" telepathically, if this guy was the intercept, it wouldn't end well for anyone. Gods, he should get a room already.

His attention shifted to Raijin. Well, well, well. My beloved has four diplomats and heads of state standing within ten feet of him and he hasn't managed to offend them yet. Maybe Parliament will give him a commendation. The general laughed inwardly. Maybe I'll see what he's up to. Slowly, Kiv meandered toward the Commander of Krioval.

Gregory's smile only broadened, increasing the faint silver shine that seemed to characterize his form. "I do believe, however, that you all still have me at rather a disadvantage."

He inclined his head deeply to Ksarine and Raijin. After a moment, his gaze focused on the man. "Great things? I am rather glad to hear that if it truly is what people are saying. Though, I must ask if you are speaking of Holista or the Danaan High Kingdom itself. Unfortunately, the kingdom of Holista has had little contact with the world outside its borders aside from Christian missionaries from Excalbia and similar places."

Gregory turned his head as Andros joined the small group. "Good evening to you, my good sir. Are you also with the delegation from Krioval?"

Gregory's smile only broadened, increasing the faint silver shine that seemed to characterize his form. "I do believe, however, that you all still have me at rather a disadvantage."

He inclined his head deeply to Ksarine and Raijin. After a moment, his gaze focused on the man. "Great things? I am rather glad to hear that if it truly is what people are saying. Though, I must ask if you are speaking of Holista or the Danaan High Kingdom itself. Unfortunately, the kingdom of Holista has had little contact with the world outside its borders aside from Christian missionaries from Excalbia and similar places."

Gregory turned his head as Andros joined the small group. "Good evening to you, my good sir. Are you also with the delegation from Krioval?"

Raijin smiled back, despite himself. "I admit, Your Majesty, that much of what passes into Krioval is about the Danaan High Kingdom. However, if I were to judge by the appearances of your kingdom's leader, I'd presume that it is, indeed, great."

The Andros general walked up to the group, bowed to the King of Holista, and without a second's further hesitation, put his left arm around Raijin. "Your Majesty. I am General Kiv Andros, leader of the military forces of Krioval. I doubt my companion has introduced himself yet." Raijin barely stopped turning bright red at that. "This is Raijin Dekker, Commander of Krioval. He leads pretty much everything - at least outside our home." At this, the Commander coughed several times, successfully dislodging Kiv's massive arm.

"But enough about us," Raijin interjected. "We'd love to hear about Holista, and what brings you to this celebration."

Gregory smiled at the man's words. "High Queen Agwene is certainly a beauty. No one would deny that. Unfortunately for the rest of us, her hand is already promised to Duke Connor."

"It's nice to meet you." Gregroy said to Andros as he walked up. He arched a brow at their apparent discomfiture before laughing slightly. "It's nothing unusual for me, young men. I do meet often with the Queen and...Queen of Farinor."

The Sidhe paused, considering what to say. "Well, Holista is the only predominately Christian state in the Danaan High Kingdom."

After an unseemly long silence from the Elegantiaens, Lord Armand drew his attention away from the fascinating glass of wine in his hand.

At the Kriovalians display, his smile brightened. And he sent a glance to the Lord Arbiter. There was no reaction on Julian's part, only a diplomatic smile.

The King noticed their awkwardness and Julian was equally deft. It was unlikely he wouldn't notice.

But, instead of saying anything, he sent a reassurance with absolutely no reaction at all.

Because, after all, it was completely normal. The only oddity in the relationship for Elegantiae Arbiter was the fact that they were unmarried to woman.

Here, it was expected they did both. Homosexuality had no meaning, it was all a matter of preference.

Julian noted Gregory's answer, and raised an eyebrow.

"You say that as if it was significant, your highness. Does it cause tension?"

The question was asked with curiousity, but without the slightest hint of probing. Julian carefully said it in a playful enough matter, that if the king of Holista was so inclined, it could be passed off as a joke.


((OOC: I am so, so sorry about the long lapse in my participation. I completely lost the thread))

Gregory shook his head. "No. But I know such things are viewed rather harshly in many parts of the world. Religious fundamentalist states, in particular, are often rather intolerant."

"Still, I don't think it needs to be a topic of great concern here." Gregory took another sip of his wine, smiling slightly.

Armand raised his glass to that, ever so slightly.

"Indeed, it is not."

The man seemed to find something intensely amusing, and when he took a small sip of the champagne, he looked more and more feline.

"But the Christian majority in your state is unusual?" Julian continued, with the same level of interest as before.

Gregory arched a brow slightly at the question. "I'm not sure what you mean by unusual. It is certainly true that every other Kingdom in the Resurgent Dream has an overwhelmingly Danaan population. Danaanism is the official religion of the High Kingdom and Her Holiness, the Vicar of Dana, is also the High Queen. "

He continued. "In truth, Christianity anywhere in the Danaan High Kingdom is a new phenomenon. The first Christians did not come to our shores until just seven years ago."

Gregory arched a brow slightly at the question. "I'm not sure what you mean by unusual. It is certainly true that every other Kingdom in the Resurgent Dream has an overwhelmingly Danaan population. Danaanism is the official religion of the High Kingdom and Her Holiness, the Vicar of Dana, is also the High Queen. "

He continued. "In truth, Christianity anywhere in the Danaan High Kingdom is a new phenomenon. The first Christians did not come to our shores until just seven years ago."

"I find that quite remarkable," Kiv Andros said, his attention now drawn to the King of Holista. "Even in formerly isolated Krioval, Christian missionaries arrived over a century ago."

"Yeah, but there's always been tension there," added Raijin. "I think they meant good, but our population has revered the Gods for ages. Suffice it to say that the Christian population of Krioval is around two or three percent these days. It's our largest religious minority, though, and the cathedral in Bralos is pretty nice to look at."

"But how did Christianity never reach your kingdom until seven years ago?" Kiv wondered aloud.

Gregory shrugged slightly. "I didn't invite them until I had begun to consider the religion for myself." He frowned ever so slightly at the line of questioning, his silver radiance flickering in visible discomfort.

Julian caught the frown and attempted to subtly change the subject.

Nodding slightly to the dignitaries from Krioval, he said, "Tell me more about your land, for our time on the international sphere has been brief and we are sadly ignorent."

Julian caught the frown and attempted to subtly change the subject.

Nodding slightly to the dignitaries from Krioval, he said, "Tell me more about your land, for our time on the international sphere has been brief and we are sadly ignorent."

"Well," the Commander began, "the actual nation of Krioval is only five centuries old. Much of our time was spent expanding - often through force." He paused, and sensing no strongly negative reaction, forged ahead. "My grandfather was the last king of Krioval. He brought us electricity eighty years ago, and with it came a burst of science. Last summer we formulated a transdimensional space drive. The only bad spot was from twenty-two years ago until six years ago, when..."

"When the monarchy fell and Krioval suffered civil war toward the end. But we have been most fortunate that Raijin is our Commander now." Kiv hoped the abrupt transition would prevent a nasty scene. Raijin, for one, seemed willing to go along with the General.

"Pretty much. The last six years have been tremendously busy for Krioval. I hope the next six years are even better - for all our nations, of course." Raijin, continuing to be totally unskilled at diplomacy, grinned as he completed his sentence, fully self-satisfied.

To Whom it May Concern:
The Akusthan government would enjoy a chance to mingle with other nations at this event. We request to send a diplomate and their spouse.

Chancellor of the External Forum, Gerg Ofakusthan Kaldshathner

"If I may be so bold, M'Lady Andrea, what is your role in the household of Armand and Euralie? Perhaps you can also tell us a bit about your people and history, as well?" Anything...anything to keep her talking to him.

Before she could answer, the band broke into a musical expression of joy, with a sound that was reminiscent of a grand waltz. Steele looked at the two women, wanting desperately to dance with both, but knowing that asking one meant slighting the other. With any luck, one of them would ask him, negating the need for him to make any decision. He smiled at the eruption of music, his foot tapping and his eyes drawn to the band.

Neither of the beautiful women took the bait, and so Steele really had no choice.

"Ladies, would both of you be kind enough to join me on the dance-floor, where it will be my utmost pleasure to teach you how we dance on my home planet? It is fairly simple, but I'll need both of you to perform the moves...interested?"

He was making it up as he went along, but Steele was sure that if they accepted, he would figure something out before they reached the dance-floor. Either way, he was here to enjoy himself, and woe be to anyone who tried to stand in his way.

Belanova hopped off her seat and cracked her knuckles, pushing her sunglasses farther up the bridge of her nose. She had been tempted to go on the dance floor for a while now, and was glad that Darius had extended the offer. She took his hand.

"I would be delighted, Darius. Let's get going!" She pulled him towards the dance floor.

OCC:Here's the Character that I based Belanova's appearance on.

http://img212.exs.cx/my.php?loc=img212&image=belanova3sl.jpg

I know, It's badly edited.

The Kriovalian General's attention was once again diverted by the scene across the room. In Krioval, if people were carrying on like that, we would wonder why they hadn't yet gone to bed together, he thought.

Hey, Raijin.

The Commander was well-versed in telepathic communication with Kiv, and his gaze never wavered from the group he was in. Yo. What's going on?

You see that diplomat with the two women hanging all over him? Kiv suppressed a smile. If the man could read psionic waves as well as Kiv thought he could, he'd be all over this conversation in seconds.

Yeah. Can you believe they're acting like that in public?

The larger Kriovalian nodded sagely, as if in response to a comment by the King of Holista. I mean, the two of us are pretty...adventurous in bed, right? But this!

Raijin had finally caught on to Kiv's scheme. Well, it's a good thing he can't listen in on our conversation. How embarrassing would that be? With that, the two broke the link and struggling to maintain decorum, tried to see the effects of their work through their peripheral vision.

He had them now, the sender and receiver. Their psi-conversation rang in his head like an alarm, though the details of what they were saying were unclear. He should have realized they were together before now...both were wearing the flashiest, most ludicrous uniforms that Steele had ever seen. One of them, the smaller of the two, seemed to have a slight military bearing to his body, and the big security man tagged him as the one to watch if things went fubar. The other was taller, and had a diplomatic air about him. He also radiated power that would need to be observed.

They were flaunting their psi-power now, not even trying to hide it from any who may be sensitive, such as Steele. They either had nothing to hide, or they were sure they were not being detected. The big security man decided some preventative maintenance was in order right about now. As he strolled towards the middle of the dance-floor with the two beautiful women, he felt all eyes upon him...including the two telepathic fops. Steele dropped his psi-barrier quickly, pushing a message to them before raising his defenses again.

"Sorta rude to be mind-chatting in public, boy-o's...don't you agree?"

He wasn't expecting a reply, and now his focus was on his two escorts. As the band jumped into another up-tempo number, Steel began to move, gliding around the two women, his feet light and quick. His large body twisted and turned, moving with an agility and grace that defied his muscular build. As he made a turn, he scooped up Belanova with one arm, twirling her through the air, his eyes locked on hers. Her feet floated through the air as Steele held her close, their breath intermingling. On his next pass, he lifted Andrea into the air, now holding both women easily.

The trio became as one, the women naturally responding to the movement, letting their limbs flow loosely into each intricate step. As the music came to an end, all three rested their foreheads together, their eyes open, locked on each other and filled with heat. Applause broke out around them, and soon the three were smiling, laughing and bowing to the crowds around them. Waving to their admirers, the trio returned to the bar, slightly out of breath. The womens cheeks were flushed, and their eyes were sparkling. Steele thought that they looked very beautiful indeed.

[quote]"Sorta rude to be mind-chatting in public, boy-o's...don't you agree?"/quote]

The larger Kriovalian noted the withering response with a hint of amusement. While he figured a reply wasn't strictly necessary, Kiv decided to send one anyway. Were we talking too loud? Or was *somebody* trying to listen in on a private conversation? A summary of the brief conversation was relayed to Raijin, who was forced to suppress a most undignified giggle by feigning a coughing spell.

When the dance number was complete, the General relayed another message to the leader of the dance trio. The Commander found your performance most impressive. It was without trace of sarcasm whatsoever. However, Kiv continued, my Raijin was unable to determine which of the three of you was most...enjoyable?...to watch.