Bordosia
11-02-2006, 16:20
Charles Verdeaux stood at the mighty rectangular portal with hands clasped behind his back, blazing sunlight beaming in through the giant window into his office. He looked down far below with muted interest, into the shadow recesses between the titanic skyscrapers of gleaming glass – the epitome of Western society; wealth, power and image. Mr. Verdeaux was very much a man of business, having invested in many prime companies, and his accumulated wealth playing no small part in him being the ‘democratically elected’ ruler of Bordosia. Corporations and the other big boys of business favoured and rewarded those who catered to the interests of the bourgeois elite.
Sighing and turning from the sprawling metropolis, he looked around to find the familiar figure of his confidante waiting in the middle of the opulently well decorated room, which was a place of contrast, the modern lamp on his minimalist desk defying the aristocratic surroundings of the room. Shaking his head in some annoyance at being lost in the display of economic status that was the décor of the room, he focused his attention on the man in his overly decadent suit.
“Yes, Hervier, what is it?”
The broad featured man shook slightly at this, being caught off guard – Verdeaux often wandered off into one of his reveries, but it was rare that he pulled himself out of them so quickly. Gathering himself, he looked up at Verdeaux, his gaze not defiant but not sycophantic – the priceless gaze of a true friend; something men of power often had to go without.
“Well Charles, our diplomatic activities have been rather…well, frankly put, they’ve been dead. We’re isolating ourselves, and the bastard Syskeyians haven’t replied yet.”
Verdeaux just grinned.
“What can you expect of them? They mix religion with politics; they’re bound to pass up business opportunities.”
“Well regardless of their ill judgement, it still leaves us with a slight problem: a lack of relations. We need some more ties, not only for business but for simple things such as political weight.”
“Then let’s make that happen Hervier, we’ll have an old fashioned party – black tie reception. That will sort the muck from the diplomats. I’ll write the invitations.”
”Yes sir.”
The conversation had died down; there was nothing to talk about. Hervier started to stride out, long powerful strides closing the gap between the door and him quickly but without any hint of his movements being hurried; his hand clasped around the doorknob until he heard his friend comment something, he turned to see the grin plain on Verdeaux’s face.
“And do please wear something acceptable, Hervier.”
Hervier just chuckled at this reference to a series of events long-since transpired, as he opened the doors and let himself out into the wide, well decorated corridor, chandeliers dangling from the ceiling while Hervier’s expensive leather shoes clicked on the pale marble flooring.
-----
To: Whom it may concern
From: Charles Verdeaux of Bordosia
Subject: An invitation to a party of diplomacy
-----
"If you are reading this communiqué, then it is apparent you are a man of power in a nation whose policies appeal or conform to those of democratic Bordosia, and therefore have been deemed a potential ally of the Free Market Democracy. Before I move onto other prospects, I think I’d best inform you of the Bordosian style of government: we’re a free-market economy, freedom of speech is paramount and people rise and fall on their own merits, which results in a large cross-section of socio-economic circumstances.
There is little more for me to say on the matter without boring you on the superfluous details of political statistics. Now onto the actual subject of interest, you and your staff/superior are hereby invited to a black-tie party at 12 Market Boulevard. Simply arrive at the base of the tower and call for someone to park your car, you’ll then be escorted to the reception area.
I apologise for the dull message, I assure you the actual party will be more interesting than this message. I bid you a good, profitable day."
Yours Graciously,
Monsieur Verdeaux
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v227/Kriegorgrad/BordosianFlag.png
Solidarity. Quality. Success.
This communiqué has been sponsored by
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v227/Kriegorgrad/SaiTechEfFiBusiness.png
Sighing and turning from the sprawling metropolis, he looked around to find the familiar figure of his confidante waiting in the middle of the opulently well decorated room, which was a place of contrast, the modern lamp on his minimalist desk defying the aristocratic surroundings of the room. Shaking his head in some annoyance at being lost in the display of economic status that was the décor of the room, he focused his attention on the man in his overly decadent suit.
“Yes, Hervier, what is it?”
The broad featured man shook slightly at this, being caught off guard – Verdeaux often wandered off into one of his reveries, but it was rare that he pulled himself out of them so quickly. Gathering himself, he looked up at Verdeaux, his gaze not defiant but not sycophantic – the priceless gaze of a true friend; something men of power often had to go without.
“Well Charles, our diplomatic activities have been rather…well, frankly put, they’ve been dead. We’re isolating ourselves, and the bastard Syskeyians haven’t replied yet.”
Verdeaux just grinned.
“What can you expect of them? They mix religion with politics; they’re bound to pass up business opportunities.”
“Well regardless of their ill judgement, it still leaves us with a slight problem: a lack of relations. We need some more ties, not only for business but for simple things such as political weight.”
“Then let’s make that happen Hervier, we’ll have an old fashioned party – black tie reception. That will sort the muck from the diplomats. I’ll write the invitations.”
”Yes sir.”
The conversation had died down; there was nothing to talk about. Hervier started to stride out, long powerful strides closing the gap between the door and him quickly but without any hint of his movements being hurried; his hand clasped around the doorknob until he heard his friend comment something, he turned to see the grin plain on Verdeaux’s face.
“And do please wear something acceptable, Hervier.”
Hervier just chuckled at this reference to a series of events long-since transpired, as he opened the doors and let himself out into the wide, well decorated corridor, chandeliers dangling from the ceiling while Hervier’s expensive leather shoes clicked on the pale marble flooring.
-----
To: Whom it may concern
From: Charles Verdeaux of Bordosia
Subject: An invitation to a party of diplomacy
-----
"If you are reading this communiqué, then it is apparent you are a man of power in a nation whose policies appeal or conform to those of democratic Bordosia, and therefore have been deemed a potential ally of the Free Market Democracy. Before I move onto other prospects, I think I’d best inform you of the Bordosian style of government: we’re a free-market economy, freedom of speech is paramount and people rise and fall on their own merits, which results in a large cross-section of socio-economic circumstances.
There is little more for me to say on the matter without boring you on the superfluous details of political statistics. Now onto the actual subject of interest, you and your staff/superior are hereby invited to a black-tie party at 12 Market Boulevard. Simply arrive at the base of the tower and call for someone to park your car, you’ll then be escorted to the reception area.
I apologise for the dull message, I assure you the actual party will be more interesting than this message. I bid you a good, profitable day."
Yours Graciously,
Monsieur Verdeaux
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v227/Kriegorgrad/BordosianFlag.png
Solidarity. Quality. Success.
This communiqué has been sponsored by
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v227/Kriegorgrad/SaiTechEfFiBusiness.png