Kashaar
29-11-2005, 13:18
Each year, in the brewing of winter, Kashaar plays host to an international ball in which any country of the world may send delegates and ambassadors in the name of unity. Between the vast variety of multinational foods and drinks, there is also a chance to meet and mingle with different nations ambassadors. Given the formal setting, and the note of so many important people in one place, the venue (The grand imperial gallery of Turannou, Kashaar) is under the watch of UN security forces. Nations ambassadors not involved with UN are given the chance of protection by them, but are kindly asked not to bring their own security forces.
The high chancellor of Kashaar, Datsun Karoma watched with a weak smile over the bustling guests around the halls. Many sipped on their drinks, talking in large groups at a time. Some stared in marvel or discontent at the many paintings and sculptures scattered about the hall.
Chancellor Karoma stood fairly tall, showing the figure of a 23 year old born into his job. It was true that Kashaar was a nation that openly welcomed the views of its youth, bringing the country along with each generation. It was Datsun's generation that had the control now, and for such a young man, he felt the need to show how mature he could be. Along with his tall, evidently healthy figure, was his pale complection. The young chancellor very rarely went outside during the day, prefering to keep his country at peace, governing it with the rest of the senate. His hair was long and extremely dark, almost black, but with that hint of brown that made it seem almost like an ancient tree, tied back in a very sleek ponytail behind his head, trailing down ever so slightly onto his back in a dark rope like fasion, a few strands sat infront, draping down over his eyes to obscure his field of vision ever so slightly, it made him fuss, but the media stylists thought it would make him look "cool". He had to agree though, his clothes did make him feel just that. a rather tightly formed suit of velvet and silver, giving way at the chest to a blood red tie, thick, almost hiding the egyptian cotton shirt under it. The only thing that would make him stand out was his sword, merely ceremonial amongst the families of Kashaar, the Karomas were not originally a leader family, they were soldiers. his jet black daisho hung loosely, both of the swords shone in the light that cascaded off the polished wood and silver of the sheaths. His trousers tucked perfectly, every crease measured, into a set of almost ice like boots, so polished that a hint of light could glare off and make Datsun squint. At least he looked good, even if there could be some manner of dispute at such an event.
With a quick sigh and a blow at the fringe of his sleek dark hair, and a slight grip over his ceremonial Daisho, he started slinking his way down the spiral staircase of the main hall, sprawling out to the ground floor and the people below.
He noticed the delegate of Reedan. She was a slender, almost sporty woman, emblazened with black ringlets of hair that slung down to her shoulders. He remembered that six weeks earlier she had offered on behalf of her nation full military support to expell a terror situation on the Kashaar/Savitry border, all on the whim of public safety. She seemed cold cut then, however, out of her suit, she seemed almost approachable.
As usual, the president of Savitry was being a hit with the ladies, one of which was Datsun's own sister. A silent curse followed by an apology to himself as he brushed past a squall of tuxedos put him within the crowd, very few people turning their heads because of the sheer excitement of being among so many different people.
Not without the notice of fear, several UN bodyguards shuffled uneasily in their black suits, hidden stares behind their sunglasses. A few gripped weapons lightly, others had to hold back an obvious smile or two at the pleasant atmosphere. It was good that they were here, feeling safe as a priority.
A silver platter was passed infront of Datsun with a grin from the bus boy, He merely smiled pleasantly back, taking a glass of the rose champagne that fizzed lightly in its crystal glass. Tasted quite nice, even though he wasn't a fan of alcohol personally.
A part of him wanted to try and mingle, but as the host, he had to try and keep himself open to any conversation that approached him, and not vice versa. The girl from Reedan kept catching his eye, in a slightly disturbing manner he found himself standing still, finally shaking off a thought and sipping on his drink again.
On a side note, if anybody feels they want to be involved at all, either as a delegate, or as a cooperative associate with the UN security force, please feel free to add in :)
The high chancellor of Kashaar, Datsun Karoma watched with a weak smile over the bustling guests around the halls. Many sipped on their drinks, talking in large groups at a time. Some stared in marvel or discontent at the many paintings and sculptures scattered about the hall.
Chancellor Karoma stood fairly tall, showing the figure of a 23 year old born into his job. It was true that Kashaar was a nation that openly welcomed the views of its youth, bringing the country along with each generation. It was Datsun's generation that had the control now, and for such a young man, he felt the need to show how mature he could be. Along with his tall, evidently healthy figure, was his pale complection. The young chancellor very rarely went outside during the day, prefering to keep his country at peace, governing it with the rest of the senate. His hair was long and extremely dark, almost black, but with that hint of brown that made it seem almost like an ancient tree, tied back in a very sleek ponytail behind his head, trailing down ever so slightly onto his back in a dark rope like fasion, a few strands sat infront, draping down over his eyes to obscure his field of vision ever so slightly, it made him fuss, but the media stylists thought it would make him look "cool". He had to agree though, his clothes did make him feel just that. a rather tightly formed suit of velvet and silver, giving way at the chest to a blood red tie, thick, almost hiding the egyptian cotton shirt under it. The only thing that would make him stand out was his sword, merely ceremonial amongst the families of Kashaar, the Karomas were not originally a leader family, they were soldiers. his jet black daisho hung loosely, both of the swords shone in the light that cascaded off the polished wood and silver of the sheaths. His trousers tucked perfectly, every crease measured, into a set of almost ice like boots, so polished that a hint of light could glare off and make Datsun squint. At least he looked good, even if there could be some manner of dispute at such an event.
With a quick sigh and a blow at the fringe of his sleek dark hair, and a slight grip over his ceremonial Daisho, he started slinking his way down the spiral staircase of the main hall, sprawling out to the ground floor and the people below.
He noticed the delegate of Reedan. She was a slender, almost sporty woman, emblazened with black ringlets of hair that slung down to her shoulders. He remembered that six weeks earlier she had offered on behalf of her nation full military support to expell a terror situation on the Kashaar/Savitry border, all on the whim of public safety. She seemed cold cut then, however, out of her suit, she seemed almost approachable.
As usual, the president of Savitry was being a hit with the ladies, one of which was Datsun's own sister. A silent curse followed by an apology to himself as he brushed past a squall of tuxedos put him within the crowd, very few people turning their heads because of the sheer excitement of being among so many different people.
Not without the notice of fear, several UN bodyguards shuffled uneasily in their black suits, hidden stares behind their sunglasses. A few gripped weapons lightly, others had to hold back an obvious smile or two at the pleasant atmosphere. It was good that they were here, feeling safe as a priority.
A silver platter was passed infront of Datsun with a grin from the bus boy, He merely smiled pleasantly back, taking a glass of the rose champagne that fizzed lightly in its crystal glass. Tasted quite nice, even though he wasn't a fan of alcohol personally.
A part of him wanted to try and mingle, but as the host, he had to try and keep himself open to any conversation that approached him, and not vice versa. The girl from Reedan kept catching his eye, in a slightly disturbing manner he found himself standing still, finally shaking off a thought and sipping on his drink again.
On a side note, if anybody feels they want to be involved at all, either as a delegate, or as a cooperative associate with the UN security force, please feel free to add in :)