NationStates Jolt Archive

"This just isn't proper!" insisted the Viscountess Durinbury as she directed a virtual storm of servants rushing to prepare their relatively large apartment in Fultonia's capital for the coming party. "Entertaining in such a small place!"

"Of course," agreed the Viscount Durinbury, his head buried in the evening edition of the local paper.

"Now, whither did Elizabeth go now?" asked the flustered Viscountess, suddenly realizing that her eldest daughter had managed to slip from the room yet again. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" Lifting her long dress, the Viscountess scurried from the room as fast as her chubby legs would take her.

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The Honorable Elizabeth Prutten was hiding from her mother. She had discovered (what she called) a secret passage, leading from one of the balconies out to the roof of the short apartment building, where she could sit with her back against the wall and gaze out over the city. The shingles probably weren't good for her dress - imported (Elizabeth suspected smuggled) from the Shield at great expense - but she didn't really care. She needed to think, to be out in the fresh air.

The President of Fultonia would be arriving soon. Elizabeth had agreed to let him court her; now she was beginning to question that decision. She was only nineteen now; she didn't know how old Mr Jefferson was, but she suspected older. Much older. Such things were more than acceptable on the Shield (as were arranged marriages), but this was the Grand Republic of Fultonia. Things had to be different.

Viscountess Durinbury (a small town in east Shadoran which they would probably never see again) called for her again in desperation. Elizabeth let loose a sigh and watched her visible breath as it rose away from her face. It was almost time.

((Drew: Sorry this is so short and rushed, but I'm just on my way out the door. I'll see you when I get back. :)))

It was the talk of the town, the President of the Grand Republic was headed to a noble ball being thrown by one of the Iansislian Refugees. The young lady in question was said to be only 19, just old enough to drink alcohol. Just three years older than the President's only daughter. Jefferson hadn't been seen out and about since the untimely death of his wife in the War of Hodgeanian Agression and the social critics were buzzing louder than they had since Senator Bleves had been caught dead with a thirteen year old hooker. The columns wouldn't be too harsh on the President due to the fact that many were quite welcome of Royalty in Fultonia. To think that a noble could be First Lady, a thing that hadn't happened since the founding of the Republic. The additional factor helping the President is that it's hard to villify a widow who had gone from a strapping young man during his first inaugaration to a grey haired elder and navigated the nation through a civil war, two acts of foriegn agression, and a police action protecting foreigners from destruction. It also didn't hurt that the President had promised full access to the press at any future nuptials.
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The Presidential motorcade weaved through the streets of the city as the President handled a boquet of flowers made up of imported Shieldian stock and the Purple Imus Lily (official flower of Fultonia). He was wearing a black tuxedo with shoes from Penn, the finest shoemakers in the Republic. Jefferson was worried, he wasn't sure how the customs of the two nations differed and had refused a breifing from his advisors on the matter. He had decided to take his wedding ring off, it was in a box on his desk at the office. The Presidential Limo stopped outside of the Apartment of the Viscount Durinbury. He was escorted up the elevator where his two escorts stayed behind. He held his formal invitation in one hand and the boquet of flowers in the other. He rapped gently on the door of the apartment and smiled broadly, his cold blue eyes showing more warmth and nervousness than they had since his days in college. Besides, when was the last time he had dinner with the perants of a 19 year old girl? oh yeah, when he had asked their permission to marry thier daughter. That's when Jefferson realized this might be a strange night.

There were already a few guests - all of them émigré nobles from the Shield - when Jefferson’s motorcade arrived.

“The President is here!” exclaimed the Viscountess Durinbury in excitement, squeezing Elizabeth’s bare arm.

“Mother!” insisted Elizabeth in some embarrassment. Lord Francis, the Duke of Fome’s son and a dashing youth whom she had always considered quite handsome, had been looking right at her. Elizabeth’s fair skin blushed slightly and she noticed Lord Francis look away quickly.

Everyone ran to position themselves and show the proper Shieldian decorum as their guest climbed the stairs. At last, the majordomo opened the door for Jefferson and, stepping inside, announced: “His Excellency the Honorable President Jefferson of Fultonia!” The crowd burst into enthusiastic applause, which Elizabeth joined after a moment’s hesitation.

taggage...

Walking slowly into the room and lifting his head as his handlers had been telling him for years he glided across the room. Dipping his head slightly and extending his hand to the Viscount, "Sir, it is a pleasure to have been invited to such a marvelous event. It is my pleasure to tell you that this is the biggest social occassion in Anora for quite some time."

((Sorry about another long wait, Fult ;)

And Anora! I was trying to think of that city's name, but couldn't quite pull it out in the first post!))

Durinbury smiled and took Jefferson's hand. "Really, Mr President, you do honor too greatly our humble home. It could never be a social event of any magnitude without your august presence." The Viscountess stood by her husband's arm and nodded vigorously.

Across the room he spotted Elizabeth trying to blend into the crowd across the room and waved her over. "My daughter, Elizabeth," said Durinbury, beaming with pride as she glided across the room.

"Elizabeth, may I introduce you to President Jefferson of Fultonia?" he said.

"Mr President," said Elizabeth with a twinkle in her brown eyes, extending an arm for Jefferson to kiss. "I have heard a great deal about your magnanimity."

OOC: I'm sorry to hijack this thread but I remember you from a while back where you bought mining rights to my territory, and I was a complete idiot and then threatened to kill your miners after I accepted the deal. Well, unfortunately you don't own my mines anymore since I re-started my history, but eh, I just noticed it says you live in San Diego... I just thought that it was cool that there is another San Diegan here... [end hijack]

((Aye, I remember that, er, 'ordeal.' :) I like to think that we were both a lot younger and more naïve back then and have now matured. You're keeping yourself well, I trust?

I am indeed a native San Diegan (well, kinda: born and raised in Poway) who is currently in exile. I'm completing a history degree at the University of Arizona in Tucson. Can't wait for summer!))

President Jefferson smiled broadly, "Well madame it is a pleasure to meet you. " He gently took her hand and bent at the waist as he gave her a short peck on the hand. "These are my gift to you." He handed the rather large boquet over to Elizabeth and then reached into his pocket to pull out two small boxes. "Viscount Durinbury this a gift for you and your wife, I do hope you enjoy thier pleasures." Jefferson couldn't help but catch another quick glimps of Elizabeth.

Elizabeth returned the smile, which showed the true beauty in her normally pretty face. "You're too kind, Mr President," she said, receiving the flowers. Elizabeth just happened to glance in them, and -

"Oh, mother!" she gasped. "These are Daldon lilies! Just like we had in our garden at Middle Creek! Why, I didn't even know you could get these off the Shield!"

Several other guests gathered around to admire the flowers Elizabeth was holding.

Durinbury cleared his throat. "Of course," he said. "You have our thanks, Mr President. Now please, come in and make yourself comfortable; we'll be having dinner soon." He stepped aside to admit Jefferson and set the presents down on a table to open later.

Maybe it was the politician that resided inside of his soul, but he couldn't resist intropducing himself to all those on his way to his seat. He had hoped that he his actions did not offend his hosts. As he sat down he smiled broadly and and "rested" with his back almost perfectly straight and his head held up. It was actually quite hard for him to remind himself to focus on the people around him and not just on Elizabeth.

(the two presents are as follows: for the viscount a gold pocket watch that has the Seal of the King on the front watch cover. Once it is opened and you can see the time piece however it has the crest of the Grand Republic. For his wife is a golden necklace with a large blue saphire surrounded by small daimonds.)

((I was thinking about opening them at some later time in the evening. I'm never too sure about the exactitudes of 'high' culture, though, so give me a smack if I do anything wrong. ;)))

The other guests at the party were a collection of the Durinburys' friends among the other émigrés. Most hailed from Shadoran or Vesshampton; even in exile, Shieldians liked to make sure that regional differences and prejudices were kept sacrosanct.

Elizabeth watched Jefferson carefully as he sat down. She knew that her parents intended to marry her off (as was the custom on the Shield) but still wanted to know if she could love the man. She knew also that she was supposed to be making polite conversation, but that was never her forte, and she settled instead for another stunning smile and a comment on how gracious it was of the President to attend their humble little soirée.

Lord Francis assumed a seat on Jefferson's other side. He didn't yet know of any plans for Elizabeth's hand and her pretty smile - which he imagined must be directed at him - gave his heart cause to soar. Now if only he could screw up the courage to approach Lord Durinbury!

((ooh, throwin' in a bit of tension! Life would be sooo boring without it. ;)))

((ooh, throwin' in a bit of tension! Life would be sooo boring without it. ;)))


Remeber last time what happened when we decided to throw in some tension? I mean...I dunno. I'm just getting Deja vue, and this deja vue has that rank scent of...disaster. With a hint of strawberries.

Jefferson gave a little chuckle after Elizabeth's second remark, "No my lady the pleasure is all mine. I must admit that I'm not sure what to do in these "noble" social settings. Before our own revolution my family was title to a Duchy, but it's been a long time since Duke has prefaced a Jefferson's name. I take it you enjoyed the flowers however?" He was nervous, and his yammer was a sign of such. Ok Andrew, slow down and take it easy. You're President of the entire Republic for cryin out loud.

Almost immediately following his nervous conversation secret service agents bust through the front door grabbing the President and his hosts. The agents practically carried them to the elevator before the President could react.

"I demand to know what the Hell is going on and why are my friends being taken with me?"

Within the room all the guests were notified that they were to go downstairs to be transported to safety for a possible airborne attack was about to occur.