NationStates Jolt Archive

Greetings (Insert name of head of state here) in the name of the Imperial Crown of Greater Prussia.

Let it hereby be known and acknowledged that the Imperial family, the house of Bonaparte, have unanimously acknowledged, on this, the 12th of May 2***, the person of Joseph Louis Napoleon Peregrin-Cauhain Bonaparte to be the rightful heir to the Greater Prussian Imperial throne, and blood-right successor to his Imperial Majesty, Napoleon IV.

Let it also be known and acknowledged that on the date of December the 2nd of this very year, Joseph Louis Napoleon Peregrin-Cauhain Bonaparte shall be crowned Emperor Joseph-Napoleon the First in the Imperial Cathedral at New Geneva at 10 AM.

Your Presence is hereby requested at the Coronation of His Majesty, the Emperor, as well as the week of festivities that will precede the solemn occasion and the two days of celebrations that will follow. These shall include the world premiere of a new Opera set to the libretto of Rostand’s “l’Aiglon” as well as a new symphony composed in the honour of Napoleon IV. The Coronation will include Handel’s Coronation Anthems as well as several other classic pieces.

There will be three Gala Balls, one before, and two after the coronation as well as two Grande Dinners in true Prussian fashion. One shall be held the day before the coronation in the honour of Napoleon IV and one afterwards in honour of the new Emperor Joseph-Napoleon where no expense shall be spared for the sake of festivities and the happiness of our guests.

Heads of state will be staying in the North Wing of the Imperial Palace in New Geneva. If you are unable to bring attendants with you, you will be assigned attendants and your every need will be provided for.

Best Wishes. Hope to see you there, and God Save the Emperor.

His Emminence,
Arch Duke Gehardt Volckner
His Majesty's Advisor and Director of Coronation Ceremonies

Northampton, Imitora

The notice had been recieved with the usual lack of pomp, just another notice in an in box that would eventually make it to the president's desk. The usual time passed, the notice made it through the security checks, diplomatic channels, and into the daily mail. It was dropped on the President's desk at ten forty five, local, and opened just after one, when President Courtney Rydell picked up the envalope, ignored the seals and marks, and read it to herself. A push of a button, and a few moments later her Chief of Staff entered the room.

"Yes'em?" he asked, casually. He had been a long time friend of the young President, and knew that the use of proper titles and names weren't needed at this point.

"Dan, how long as it been since my last vacation?"

"Uh, maybe two years, before you won the election. The retreat with President Gibbson."

"Well, I think its time for another one. I need you to send off a notice to Reichskamphen, let them know that I am comming for the coronation. Been to long to be cramped up in this office, need to get out. Anyways, its diplomatic in nature, we used to be pretty big allies with them."

"Yes Ma'am, anything else?"

"Nope, thats it for now. Thanks," she said dismissing the CoS.

A few hours later, a notice had been sent to the proper officials in Reichskamphen, and the Imitoran President was on her way to attend the coronation events.

(The response, written on traditional elegant paper, sealed by traditional wax seal, was hand delivered by an Royal Courier, who was flown by government jet to the capital, to hand deliver the message to whom would receive it officially.)


Your Eminence,

His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Damoen Wasterin, Acting Head of State of the Grand Kingdom of Aerion will be attending the coronation along with his sister Her Royal Highness Princesss Ameria Wasterin.

His Excellency, Lainon Akshur, Lord High Chancellor(*) of the Grand Kingdom will also be accompanying the Royal Entourage.

Three civilian guests and their entourages will also be present for the event for those events that they may be allowed to attend. The CEO of Aerionian Motor Works <AMW>, the CEO of Omdial Telecommunications, and the Director of Public Relations of Amkarethz Holdings, the largest corporation in the Grand Kingdom of Aerion.

The Royal Entourage, including the service staff, will number close to 150. His Royal Highness recommended an large mansion in the city, or an villa to house the staff as well as the Lord High Chancellor, and the civilian guests traveling with them. If necessary though, he will pay for several suites at one of the city's five star hotels if necessary.

The Director of Royal Travel along with his staff will arrive early. as well as an unit of the Royal Guard to prepare security. Two large transport jets will arrive, carrying two of the three squads of the Royal Guard that will be deployed for this trip. The Royal Limousine, and escort vehicles will also arrive by this transport craft.

On the appointed day for arrival prior to the events, an large jet will arrive carrying the service staff.

His Royal Highness, and his sister shall arrive separately by supersonic jet as well as the Lord Chancellor with them.

The civilian guests of honor will arrive with their respective entourages by private jets, possibly supersonic. Though they will make their own arrangements, by renting a townhouse, or luxury hotel near where the events will take place.

I hope these arrangements are suitable, and His Royal Highness looks forward to attending this most momentous occasion.

Sincerely,
Aduen Maklur
HRH's Personal Secretary
In the name of His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Damoen Wasterin

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When he was recieved, Lord Francis of Carmel, accompanied by two aides, silently approached the soon to be Emperor. They all wore dark blue uniforms, with a black cape. The Lord's cape, on the inside, was a purple colour, while the aides wore blue on the inside.
When they reached an appropriate distance, They knelt on their left knee, and the Lord said, "I ask your permission to approach, Highness." When it was granted, he approached, and knelt again. He handed the Emperor's aide a scroll. When opened, it would read:
Your Highness,
I am sending this envoy to inform Your Highness that I, along with my wife, Katrina, and the higher of my crown ministers will be attending your coronation, as well as my One hundred man Royal Guard. Most, however, will remain on the Royal jet, unless needed.
May God Bless You, and give you strength.
*Seal*
His Majestic Highness, John, by the Grace of God and the favor of the Apostolic See, King of Cherry Ridge, Leath-Ri of the Isles of Redemption, Archduke of the Imperial Grand Duchy of Bavaria, Marechal of the Imperial Guard of the Greater Prussian Empire, Guardian of the Sword of Saint Michael the Archangel, and Fidei Defensor
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As the envoy departed, however, more men arrived. The Ridgian envoy bowed, and payed respects, before departing. There were five men on horseback, three men robed in White, with large gold crosses, and a White Rose in the center, and two men in Cassocks, with black capes fluttering behind them. The new archbishop, Cardinal Marco, enjoyed ceremony moreso even than the King.
One of the Knights was holding a large crucifix, on a pole, with a sword at his side, while the others only had swords strapped to their sides.
They all dismounted, and the knight with the crucifix stood in the front, with the two other knights behind him. When they reached the front, they knelt, and the two priests followed. Monsignor William O'Malley, Vicar General, and Father Sean Fitzgerald, the Cardinal's secretary, in perrfect symetry, approached, and knelt. O'Malley spoke, "Your Highness, we come bearing the messege from His Eminence, the Cardinal Archbishop of Carmel."
When the scroll was handed to the Emperor, it read:
Your Highness, Joseph-Napoleon,
Greetings in the name of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, the true King of us all.
I send you this envoy to inform you of my attendance at your Coronation Ceremonies and other events. I feel that this can show one can be both a good Catholic, and a good Prussian.
I ask God's blessings on you, and look forward to your coronation.
Peace Be with you.
+ His Eminence Joseph Cardinal Marco,
Archbishop of Carmel
*seal*

Everyone goes to Sol. It's a fact of life in this galaxy, and not one often appreciated. Alessa Annirere, Roanian Rogue, had not woken up yesterday morning with any intention of going to Sol. She still wasn't sure why she was going to Sol, precisely what she was meant to do when she got there, and how the hell that prize idiot Cassander had known she was going to be in that station. One way or another, an agent had banged on her hotel's door, threatened to shoot her, and then ordered her to this coronation as Cassander's 'personal representative.'

Light, how that grated. She could still...vaguely... remember a time when she had sent people off and Cassander had jumped at her word. Yet that was another life, a life now lost to the vagaries of time, and her weak memory for events that she, personally, had not been alive for. Well, technically she had, but... that was making her head hurt. She flipped through her clothing. "Rather a distinct lack of formal clothes."

She instantly screeched her ship to a halt and veered it around for a shopping trip.


~~~

Alessa stepped down the stairs at the receiving port. Presumably the appropriate words would be be 'best foot forward'. Alessa, however, as a small coterie of male shop attendants now knew, had several other attributes that would draw attention from that foot, lovely as it is. The Roanians were very attractive, generally. A fact which more than made up for their less likeable qualities. She brushed her dark hair out of her face and straightened out the loose green dress she was wearing, before tightening it around her waist.

The young woman reached up and touched her own delicate filigree circlet. It wasn't something she generally showed, but it could be helpful for establishing her authority, and there was always the chance its glitter and glim would keep men from dismissing her. Something she was informed happened fairly frequently in some Sol monarchies. A sour thought struck her as she got to the ground and the stairs slammed shut behind her, sealing the ship until she got back. She reached into her new purse and looked at her pass. Lady Alessa Annirere, Special Emissary of His Divine Illuminated Imperial Majesty Cassander Drakharn. 'Oh, if only he knew.' She dropped the paper down and went to find an official transport. As she walked, she reached back into the purse and pulled out a thin pair of sunglasses, then slid them on in what would in almost anyone else be a conscious attempt to look stylish.

Queen Mariah was talking to her kids "Arthur, Leia we're going to Reichskamphen to meet the new Emperor!".

Leia asked "Is there going to be a big party? I like parties."

Mariah smiled "Oh yes, it's going the biggest party ever."

Arthur said "Why isn't Dad coming? He always goes to parties with you."

Mariah replied "You see, he can't go because he's not fully well. He's got cancer and can't go. The Doctors have fix him first."

Arthur "Poor Dad, I want Dad to come too!"

Mariah "No, he can't. He's has to beat his liver cancer first. You are the man going there."

Leia said "When are we going?"

Mariah said "December"

...

Victoria was busy sending off the Queen's official response to Coronation. It listed Queen Mariah, Prince Arthur, Princess Leia, the Royal Nanny and two servants as the official guests. No security staff were listed as the Queen figured the security at the Coronation should be up to the job.

...

Count Richard was lying in a bed in hospital.

Two Jewish doctors appeared "Bad news Richard. Your liver is getting worse. We found depleted Uranium particles in a sample of liquid from it. I think your military service is killing you now. I wish they'd stop using depleted Uranium in the Navy earlier."

He looked puzzled "Depleted Uranium? Where in the ship?"

"In the side armour. They didn't tell anyone so guess who pays for it now, you. The stuff was leaching into the air supplies and well, affected everyone on the ships. Depends which ships you served on, the newer ones are fine. You served on the older ships" they replied.

He slumped depressed.

Imperial Palace, New Geneva

“Leve-toi, Son Majeste. C’est une jour nouveau.” The chief attendant to the Emperor of Greater Prussia announced in a sharp nasal French, pulling back the curtains from the Monarch’s large canopy bed.

“Pardon?” the Emperor muttered groggily, his eyes but half open to keep out the light that was now streaming in.

“I said, It is time for you to get up your Majesty, it is a new day.” Jacques Mazarin said shortly. “May I humbly suggest that his Majesty acquaint himself with the official court language.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Joseph said with a yawn and rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands.

The attendant beat the bejeweled staff he carried twice on the bedroom’s stone floor and no less than ten attendants hurried in, carrying with them five different outfits, each of them in the traditional Reichskamphian Noble style…that of the late 1700’s to the early 1800’s. One attendant wheeled in a mahogany cart containing an alabaster bowl full of water, a razor, and other shaving and grooming implements and yet another rolled a cart in displaying three different powdered wigs.

“This one.” Joseph pointed to a red coat with long tails and golden embroidery on the cuffs and lapels. He was soon outfitted with the matching pants and a black pair of shoes specially made for him by Salvatore Ferragamo. Joseph held both of his arms in the air as a white ruffled shirt was pulled down over his head.

He looked at his chief attendant. “Is this nonsense really necessary?”

“This nonsense, your majesty, is the tradition of the Imperial Court…and the tradition of the Royal Court before it. This is the tradition of your father, the late Emperor.”

“Yes, but is this not MY Imperial court now? Am I not the Emperor? Am I not the first Emperor to hold residence in this palace?”

The chief attendant bowed humbly. “Your Majesty…you are chosen of God to rule this Empire. But at times such as these…tradition is all we have.”

Joseph nodded, gazing around this bedroom…built for his father. On the large limestone fireplace in the corner, the N and Laurel leaf crest was clearly visible, towering 10 feet above eye level, but there were plenty of others in the wallpaper and upholstery of the furniture. The only sign that it was indeed he that occupied that room and not his deparded father was a single “JN” in laurel leaves much in the same manner as the single N. It was displayed on the top of the canopy for the canopy bed.

It had become clear to the Emperor that the part of his name that interested people of the Empire was not the Joseph part…but that part which signified a return to the good times…to the glory once known and now gone. He needed to be Napoleon the Fifth…not Joseph Napoleon the first.

From his window he could see to the small villages beyond the city walls of New Geneva. This had sprung up during the city’s construction, but were now burned out and abandoned for the most part. The people that did live there lived in dire poverty and without much help from the government. All of this while the ladies of the Imperial Court were feuling the city’s economy by commissioning new jewelry to be worn for the coronation, new dresses, new cars, new houses even for entertaining during the festivities. He didn’t begrudge them the expenditures for he knew that this event could be the biggest economic burst for this, now the poorest country in all of Greater Prussia.

His first act, however, as Emperor was to freeze Imperial household spending on all but the essentials of life. This was an Empire in Crisis…and he was perhaps the best and the worst person to handle it.

Today, was the beginning of the city-wide festivities in New Geneva. It was also the coming out party for the newly planted city. It had been founded as the first Imperial City by Napoleon IV in light of the unsuitability of Reichsburg to serve as the head of the growing Empire. New Geneva would be the Functional Capital City of the Empire while whimsical and ornate Reichsburg would serve as a monument to Imperial greatness and still retaining some of the official offices.

The original city plans for the city were finished just before the assasination of the Emperor and for years it was the center of a Conflict for control of Reichskamphen that resulted in further dessimation throughout the country. Now, though the rest of the Country is impoverished...New Geneva is thriving and has expanded twofold due to the increased demand for housing and business.

The city was designed to mimic the antique architecture of Reichsburg, but with a distinctly Imperial flair and on a much larger scale. The Restaurants, street side cafes, museums, clubs, and other nightlife rivaled Paris for refinement and extravagence. Yet, there was a mysterious lack of Strip Clubs, Casinos, and Pornography peddlers for such a large metropolitan area. This would be understood when one considered that the largest building by far in the city is the largest Church in the world. The New Geneva Imperial Cathedral was designed to be one of the tallest and most grand structures on earth. Its spire is actually a 250 story skyscraper...the headquarters of the Presbyterian Church in Greater Prussia, the Free Presbyterian Church in Greater Prussia, and the Prussian Baptist and Methodist Headquarters. The Church has a large voice in New Geneva, but the voice of the Emperor is far more powerful.

While the Church managed to prevent strip clubs and other seedy establishments from opening...it couldn't prevent hot and trendy South Beach style Night Clubs from opening in the newly built districts.

The streets were decorated with banners galore and several Arches of Triumph were commissioned from multiple sculptors to stand throughout the city, bearing scenes of Imperial glory from days gone by. Most restaurants, cafes, and shops were giving huge specials and large sales in honour of the Coronation and tonight, every single restaurant in the city has set up stands in the streets to feed the people for free (e.g. on the Emperor's dime) and the drinks were flowing liberally to feul the citywide celebration.

The Royal jet slowly began its descent into the Imperial Airport. When it came to a stop, before the doors could even open, a limosine from the transport plane ahead rolled along, to pick up the King, John Antonette, and his wife, the Queen, Katrina. Following behind them came Colonel William Fitzgerald of the Royal Guard and Lord Francis Carmel.
The limosine, followed by three Military Jeeps, marked with Royal Guard followed, and three led.
The convoy first alerted the Imperial Guard that they had arrived, delivered their, and the Cardinal's luggage, and then journeyed to the finest restaurant they could find.
---------------
Two hours later, a second plane landed. However, unlike the preceding plane, the man who descended the steps did with much more ceremony. The red robed man, with a long red train, descended the steps, flanked by two priests in academic attire.
As they descended, twenty-five men formed lines of ten each, with five in the front. In the center of the five was a large processional crucifix, behind the crucifix was a large, red banner, with the Christogram in the center, with the symbols for the Alpha and the Omega on either side. To the left of the crucifix was a banner with the Blessed Mother, clothed in blue, gazing down, and to the right an identical banner. The cricifix, if one looked closely, was decorated richly. Above the corpus, but below the inscription, was a sacrificed lamb on a stone altar, below the corpus a weeping woman. To the left was a pelican, and to the right a dove.
After the three men descended, the twenty actual guards formed into lines of five each, with four in a row.
The five banner bearers (the banners were beneath torches enclosed with glass) fell to the back, and the one empty handed man fell behind Cardinal Marco, Father Fitzgerald and Monsignor O'Malley, and held his train. This man was Captain Charles Orleans, liason from the CR armt to the White Rose.
Each horse had a halberd strapped to his side, and the men had swords strapped to them. Underneath their white robes, adorned with gold crosses, were Sig 552's, and on some, p220's.
The Cardinal ordered the men to gallop through the city. Upon encountering a crowd of people, Captain Orleans shouted, "Make way for the Cardinal Archbishop of Carmel!" Those that didn't move were pushed aside, and the men continued to the Cathedral. Once there, the Cardinal descended from his horse (which had his sword strapped to it), and with the two Fathers, and the Captain, entered, and waited.

A royal carrier had met the invitation at the castle gates and carried it upward to the shogun. He had the unfortunate pleasure of finding His Excellency Nakamura Taiki in his dojo. Held in his hand was a massive red scythe, a barbed chain attached to the pole-end, a curved blade at the end of this. Taiki's travelling robe was fluttering in the midst of a huge power surge from him, and his long, silver-ish hair fluttering up and away behind him. Normally he had round spectacles, but they were now put away to protect them. As the carrier walked in, the blade on the chain ripped into the paper-wood screen wall and passed just inches above his head, destroying the entire wall. It continued into several dummies placed around the room. Taiki stopped, and stuck the blade of the scythe into the tatami mats below him. He replaced his spectacles on his face and tied his hair back up behind him. He walked over to the now paralyzed carrier and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm terribly sorry about that!" he said, laughing heartily. He wasn't terribly strong, or big, or imposing, but he had an incredibly disarming and juvenile attitude. Indeed, many people were incredulous that he was as old as he was, though that was only about 25 anyway.
"A-a-a letter for y-you, Y-your Excellency."
"Ah, thank you very much, sir. i'd give you a bit to go spend in the bar, but I seem to be out of money again," he said smiling widely and a bit embarrased. Though the shogun of a powerful nation, he seemed to be in a perpetual state of poverty. He walked past the man, who stood in the remains of the doorway, reading the letter as he went. Mmmmm....a grand event! I need to get out! He simply went to his room and packed a small suitcase, and left the castle on a small boat, heading for a train station. He boarded a westbound train and headed out. He did, however, have the courtesy to send a letter ahead of him.

Greetings!

Congradulations are in order for this joyous occasion! As shogun of Pschycotic Pschycos, it is my duty to attend. But it is more than my duty, it is my pleasure to attend! I shall arrive just as soon as my train gets there! Take care, and I'll see you in a little while!

~Nakamura Taiki

Understandably, in New Geneva, few citizens were willing to make way for any Cardinal. Luckily, they were most of them too innebriated to really care. This was a time for celebration, not sectarian division.

The Imperial Guardsmen posted at the Cathedral rode out to greet the Ridgian detachment. "Who Goes there!" the guard shouted. As the delegation had visited Reichskamphen before, they knew the tradition.

"God Save the Emperor, Long Life and Health to His Majesty! I come to serve my Sovreign!" The Cardinal's delegation replied. This was the traditional response in Reichskamphian military ceremonies, many of which had continued on from the 1200's until the destruction of the Capitol but a few years ago.

When they had presented their papers, they were allowed inside the walls surrounding the Cathedral. With the instability that had traditionally greeted Imperial Capitols...the architects had prepared by walling everything up. As they approached they would have been unable to make out clearly what they could have clearly seen at a distance..the Large stained glass window that ascended over 100 stories into the air before the skyscraper's glass front transitioned into unstained glass. On the front was a giant blue cross. Underneath it on the left hand side was Calvin's Crest, and underneath it on the Right hand side was Luther's Crest. At the very top the latin phrase "Sola Fide" stood in lettering several stories tall. This was obviously not home turf for the Cardinal, but he was being recieved with the utmost delicacy.

Rev. Graves was unable to come down at such short notice from his office on the top floor of the spire, but the Outreach Minister, Dr. Daniel Waltringham went out to meet the Cardinal as he arrived. "Welcome, Mr. Marco." He extended his hand.

Using a magical plot device, the Dersconi delegation arrived in New Geneva. Veliky Kynaz Ivan Rekjuavich, Blazhei Voikinov, and Franz von Papen were present, as well as a few guards. However, noticably absent was the Tsar-to-be Xavier Andropov.

Going through whatever security procedures necessary, they made their way to the Cathedral. They were obviously armed with their ceremonial swords, but other than that, there was a strange lack of armaments. They were all in full ceremonial dress, which would take far too long to describe, as I have a history project to work on, but let's just stick with 'They were very, very, noticable,' especially with Prince John's fixation with shiny royal purple and gold, and Blazhei's GICAPFAH Chairman's uniform, and the Knights Templar cross that was nice and big on his robes. Franz stuck out by not being flashy, opting instead for a plain black suit.

Alessa strolled quite comfortably into the palace, shortly after the Dersconi delegation (whom she avoided as appearing 'too stuffy', and whose clothing grated on her eyes). Security was a breeze, as she had left behind even her almost customary dagger, leaving it hanging across the seat of a starship she was missing more and more with each minute. She didn't like crowds, they made her jumpy, and here she was certain she was the only outsider present for what appeared to be a very important meeting for a very select group of people, of whom she was the only apparently non-royal person.

She lifted up her watch, considering the odds and pleasures of vanishing into some of those pleasant nightclubs she had seen en-route, as in her experience a suitably attractive person with a suitable amount of money could enter anywhere short of a place guarded by competent armed men.

Alessa slid her sunglasses down her nose and looked up at the ceiling of the palace, leaning against a pillar, studying the architecture. And also, for a variety of reasons, the structural stability. Her eyes closed in contemplation, and she placed her hands together in thought in front of her. 'What did that idiot's idiot messenger say? "Investment, Solidarity and Mars". Mars. What the hades does the GPE have to do with Mars, and why the hell do I need to deal with Mars? Why am I even doing this? Is my dress coming loose or is it meant to feel that way?' Then there were her other orders, which she distrusted but which, to her, seemed certainly to be the best reason for her to have been here, though surely it made more sense for her to approach the Dersconis with this 'IOI' proposal directly, rather then here, where they'd be a tad busy...

Queen Mariah, the ageing Cardinal Augustus Brown, Prince Arthur and Princess Leia had just landed. Of all them, the two women/girls didn't like air travel but Prince Arthur and the Cardinal were in good spirits while like her mother Princess Leia was decidedly less than happy about air travel.

The half-asleep females were helped by the Cardinal and enthusiastic Prince Arthur off the plane while the servants carried the luggage along with the Royal Nanny coming along.

Most were unarmed except for Queen Mariah with her swords and Prince Arthur walked around with his short sword given to him by "Uncle Janus" aka Inquisitor Janus. Arthur was young but he could handle a sword now as well a few personal handguns which he was not carrying.

Count Richard was still in Jeruselem, dying slowly - not much you could about his situation. He was far too sick too travel. The Queen decide to put Vice-Grand Inquisitor Janus in charge of the nation's security with the Grand Chancellor managing domestic affairs.

When Jeruselem delegation entered the palace, Princess Leia fell asleep and the Nanny had to carry her. The Queen has still rather pale from the flight and had to sit down a few times despite being helped along by the good Cardinal secret stash of small alcohol bottles for such occasions. He usually wasn't one to drink it - it was usually someone else.

Prince John and Blazhei Voikinov went off into the crowd to go find the Ridgian Delegation, of whom they were good friends with, leaving the Foreign Minister to himself. Franz scanned the crowd, finally spotting the Roanian. Odd, I wasn't aware that they gave a damn about Greater Prussia...Franz decided to walk that way and investigate. He remembered Xavier telling him something about the Roanian delegation approaching him for somehing, but he couldn't remember what, exactly. Ah, well. As Franz walked towards the Roanian, he realized that they wouldn't be able to do much before the ceremony -- it'd be a bit noticable, and probably too short on time. It'd be better simply to aquaint themselves and deal with business later. Or, and what was more likely to happen, Franz would extend an invitation to the Dersconi Kremlin and the Roanian delegate -- be it this one or another -- would meet with Xavier directly.

Taiki arrived in New Geneva rather more inconsipicuously than the others. Simply, his train arrived, and he stepped off of it and out of the station onto the streets, his suitcase in his right hand. He took a moment to take in the sights while pushing his spectacles back up his nose. He briefly shook the high collars of his black and gray-trim travelling robe and began walking through the city, smiling pleasantly. The only other thing he carried with him was a relatively small, and relatively old revolver. It wasn't a pistol, but a true, although semi-automatic, revolver. He made his way joyfully through the streets toward the cathedral, swaying gaily in the atmosphere and exchanging pleasantries with those around him. Finally, he was near the cathedral, and was lost looking up at it, his long, tied back hair nearly touching the ground. "...whoa..."

Liam J. Cullinane sat at his desk, dictating telegrams to nations allied to Stabistan, of which he was President. After the Telegram to Riddim had been finished, an aide walked in.

"Sir, there is a message from The Protestant Triune Kingdom of Reichskamphen. It says something about a coronation. Do you wish to see it?"

"Why not? I'm always up for a celebration."

The aide handed the note to him, and he started to read. After a short while, he finished and raised his eyebrows, and looked over his glasses at the aide.


"I'm glad you got this to me. This is important. It would be rude not to attend. Good work. What's your name?"

"Joe, sir. Joeseph Garrison."

"Well, pack your stuff, you're coming!"

After packing, a Limo arrived and whisked them away to the airport, where Air Force Stab was awaiting. A large jet with defensive armaments, it had a Light blue top with a red line separating it from the cream-colored bottom. They climbed the ramp, tailed by bodyguards. The jet taxied and flew off, followed closely by a fighter escort of F-22 Raptors.

"This ought to be good, Joe."

"Yes sir, Mr. President." replied Garrison.

"Please, call me Liam."

"Sir, shouldn't we have sent a response first?" He queried

"Nah. I want to make an entrance."

The plane flew over the horizon, towards Reichskamphen.

South Prussian Sea

The only real way to get to Reichskamphen by air is to fly south-to-north over the South Prussian Sea, as Reichskamphen is surrounded by nations with shall we say less-than-accomidating air travel regulations.

Now, while this is just fine and dandy, it once again presents a problem -- smack in the centre of the sea is the Island of Hope, Derscon's largest naval base and travel resort, about the size of half the old continental United States of America. Derscon, as most know, is a very, very paranoid nation, and when it detects warplanes coming in un-announced, Derscon gets jumpy....

Very Jumpy.
_______________________________________________

IOH Command Centre

"Sir! Unidentified warplanes heading in this direction!" The Air Marshal Lupin Skiinlyeakov (From Eastern Derscon) and Fleet Admiral Aleksandr Kcrvslyaeilnii (From the Northern Reaches) both looked over to the Captain (Air Force) overseeing the main console.

"Say again?"

"Sir, we have unidentified warplanes headed this way." Marshal Skiinlyeakov raised an eyebrow.

"You know, the Coronation in Reichskamphen is today." Admiral Kcrvslyaeilnii shot a glance at the radar display.

"Warplanes to a coronation. Do you remember the reason why we even have to have this coronation?" The Marshal cursed.

"Scramble a wing up to intercept them, now! DO IT!"
_______________________________________________

Airfield 002, Island of Hope

About a minute after the order was given, topside, thirty FI-42 Nebodrakon Interceptors fired off the runway, armed to the teeth with series' of air-to-air missiles. They were not instructed to fire unless fired upon, but they were to ensure that the fighters never entered Prussian airspace, unless cleared.

When they were a few miles out, they radioed a message to the inbound flights.

You are entering Greater Prussian Airspace, which is
at a heightened state of security. Identify yourself and state
your purpose, or defencive measures will be taken. This is
your only warning. Identify yourself and state your purpose.
Now.

OOC: Derscon, you are a big jerk, aren't you :P
======================================

Two Pschycotian F-14s were in the area, breaking in a new "reel" for one of the pilots, (Their base fleet was also in the area for a meeting between old friends) when the incomings were detected. Naturally, they were relayed the Dersconi's most obvious response prediction. "Hey Crash, why don't we pop over and make sure the Dersconis don't do something regretable?" the pilot with the new reel said.
"Heh sounds good, Mongoose," the other replied.
"Yeah, you know what I got."
"No, what do you got?" Crash asked.
"I got the need. The need for speed!" Mongoose replied.
"Umm...Is there something I should know?" asked the new reel.
"No, nothing really," replied Crash's reel. About two seconds later, Mongoose and Crash opened the jets' throttles to maximum afterburner. Naturally, the new reel was caught far off guard and was slammed back into his seat. His swearing was lost in the sound of the afterburners.

They rather quickly arrived at the scene, intercepting the plaens a few minutes before the Dersconis would get there. They orbitted the group at a distance, and then reported to the incoming Dersconis:

Attention Derscon fighters,
Your unidentifieds look pretty peaceful. We don't see much trouble here.
Naturally then, happy hunting! We'll just shoot some pretty photos from out here.
Don't get too rough now! Over.

"You guys are totally f***ed up!" the new reel was spitting. "What the F*** is wrong with you guys?"
"Everything," Mongoose and Crash replied.

The Cardinal responded to the Protestant minister, "Dr. Waltringham, I believe I have seen your face before. You probably do not know me, but I know you quite well. You may recall a troublesome underground priest?"

Captain Orleans approached, and whispered in the Cardinal's ear, "Eminence, the Cardinal from Jeruselem has arrived. He nodded and told him to alert the Cardinal. When he heard Blazhei was present, he told him to alert him that he was looking forward to seeing him.

John and Katrina stumbled through the crowd laughing, having ordered their guard to stay a little way behind (as to not interfere). However, when halfway through the crowd, John recognized the face of someone who he would never forget: his drinking buddy, Prince John. He yelled for him over the crowd. He ran over to him, and embraced him, while Katrina pecked him on the cheek. John shook Blazhei's hand and said, "I believe the Cardinal's at the cathedral." Katrina extended her hand to be kissed, but quickly turned it into a regular shake, adapting to the social situation.
As it was more of a street party atmosphere currently, John wore a pair of jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt, though with a gold crown on the left encircling the letters "CR", below the shoulder. Katrina also wore a pair of jeans, though unlike Johns, showed her excellent figure. She wore a white sweatshirt, marked with the words Moscow University, which unlike her pants, only gave the slightest hint of the fruits that were just beneath the soft material.
After the greetings, Katrina asked Prince John, "I thought my Dad was comming?" She thought for a second then added, "Or is he already off somewhere else?"

While she waited for an answer, John's phone went off.
He glanced at it in annoyance, but quickly answered after seeing who it was.
"What in the hell did you bother me now for?" The man on the other end said, "Majesty, our satellites have picked up on some aircraft from what appears to be a neutral nation. There are Dersconi and PP aircraft in the area. Should we deploy? They appear to be heading for Reichskamphen." Antonette answered. "Why do you need me for that decision?" The man, now nervous, said, "We do not know how they will react and there are already Prussian jets in the area." Antonette sighed and said, "From the Air Force scramble four jets. I don't want Navy pilots like you screwing things up, like you did by calling me," he replied, hitting him where it hurt, "Oh, and let the Dersconis do their thing, they are just there to show the Dersconis we support them. Understand?" The man answered with a "Yes Majesty" and hung up.

When he was finished, Katrina looked worried, but then sighed and laughed, She said, "I swear to God John, I am going to leave you." He looked her in the eye, and grinned, "You couldn't leave me. Not after that first night in Dersc...I mean our wedding night." He shot a look at the Prince, who would no doubt get a kick out of the exchange. Katrina, however, looked at John like she was going to kill him.
John then turned to the Prince, "Apparently some President, he spat the word, as if it pained him to say it, "Is attending the coronation."
----------
The four Ridgian F-35s were airborned, and when passing over the Naval Carrier, did a spin, as a friendly "screw you." When they finally reached their destination, they radioed the Dersconis:
We aren't trying to steal the show, per the King's orders. We are here if you need us, though we doubt it. We'll stay back, just in case, or if you want us to join an escort.

Cardinal Augustus Brown and Queen Mariah turned up at the behest of Ridgian delegation although Mariah preferred to be asleep at the moment like her daughter.

Queen Mariah had changed into a more comfortable - a Jeruselem Angels soccer uniform, number 13 - the number assigned to captain. That was after a bath to wake her up. Cardinal Augustus Brown wore what he always wore - the sterotypical Roman Catholic Cardinals grab.

The Cardinal greeted John and Katrina "Ah my favourite Ridgians, the great King John and the lovely Katrina." Queen Mariah sounded a little jaded from her flight and the ongoing illness to her husband "Good to see you again John and of course your lovely wife Katrina. You know why my husband isn't here. I hope you two are handling things better than me. John you just gained a partner, I'm about to lose mine.", she sighed.

Mariah looked a little pale and far from her usual self while the Cardinal was as always himself.

John nodded, "I'm sorry about your husband. I will have to visit him soon." Katrina nodded in agreement.

Liam and Joeseph were enjoying a lively conversation, when a monitor on the wall lit up with a "Be-da-beep."

"Sir," said one of the few bodyguards, whose face filled the screen, "We have unidentified fighters coming in, FAST. Quite an amalgam. Some F-14s, some F-35s, but mostly FI-42s. The 42s have radioed us that this is restricted space, and that we have to identify ourselves, or else."

"Alert the fighter escort, but tell them not to arm their weapons. I don't want to go up in flames, as do you."

"Of course, sir."

"Nationalities?" queried Liam.

"Ridigian, Psychotian and Dersconian. The Dersconians are the ones with the 42s, and the ones who radioed us. The Ridigians are backing up the Dersconians, while the Psychotians seem to be making sure that we don't get blown up."

"Tell the Dersconians that we're Stabistanians, and coming to the Coronation. Damn, this'll ruin the surprise I was planning. Well, there goes some fun. Ask them not to tell the people at the coronation, maybe this will still work out. Oh, and make sure the... Number of?" "Two." "... Two Psychotian pilots get commended. Those guys probably saved our bacon."

"Yessir."

The transmission was relayed, and Liam put his chin in his hand. He peered through the window in that compartment, looked out over the water and saw the ocean, with the Dersconian island sitting there (not so) peacefully.

Attention Stabistan aircraft,
We'd like to apologize in advance for the roughing over
you're about to receive from the Dersconis. They like
to screw with people's minds, and they're already a
paranoid nation. Just bear with them please, they
usually mean no harm, they're just doing thier duty.
Over.

The Pschycotian lead fighter sent out the message just so the Stabistanis didn't get too anxious or scared, or worse, fight back. The duo orbited loosely a short distance away, onboard cameras filiming the encounter for Command so that they could analyze the intercept procedures and fix any problems. You know, friendly ally stuff....okay, the pilots were bored and fuel was cheap.

After the formalities were finished, Father Fitzgerald walked outside. He made a motion, dismissing the guard for now, and he quickly threw his biretta and cape off. He pulled his cassock over his head, and was left in just black trousers, and a short sleaved clerical shirt. Unlike his counterparts, he had worn something under the cassock, as he knew it would be a street party. He strolled to the entrance again, and noticed a strangely dressed man, like a forlorn wanderer. He walked out, and extended his hand, "I'm Father Fitzgerald. Obviously, I don't work here, but I'm with the Cardinal. You need any help?"

"Ah yes," Taiki said pleasantly. "I'm looking for the coronation celebrations. I'm Nakamura Taiki, shogun of Pschycotic Pschycos!" He grinned widely. "I appear to have gotten lost again." He extended his hand in greeting.

Alessa looked up as the Dersconi approached. She frowned for just a second, then moved her sunglasses back up to her eyes, adjusted her dress one more time, and went to meet him, a bright smile (since she was told humans liked smiling women) on her face. Behind her sunglasses her eyes glowed like lights on a christmas tree, though all that was only a bluish hue under the shades. "Ah, and you must be," she tapped the sunglasses and briefing information appeared (to her eyes, for him nothing changed), "Foreign Minister Franz of the Tsar of Derscon. I'm Lady Annirere, His Most Divinely Illuminated Imperial Majesty's special plenipotentiary." That was good! Hardly any sarcasm at all. She'd need to reward herself with a hell of a lot of chocolate later.

OOC: I'll deal with the character stuff later on.

The Wing leader looked over the communication exchanges and, if there wasn't over thirty million Tsaroubles worth of equipment in front of him, would have smashed his head on the panel.

"I should shoot those damn Pschycotians down," the Wing leader muttered under his breath. They continued their approach to the Stabistan planes, beginning to encircle them.

Stabistan Craft, thank you for cooperating. Things
have been a bit rough lately, we couldn't take chances.

Upon entering Greater Prussian Airspace, your fighter escorts
will break off and land at the designated runway on Airfield 03
on the Island of Hope. They will be treated hospitably; there
isn't a hotel there under three stars, room's on us.

As for the main craft, we will escort you in to New Geneva,
and you can land there. Try not to do anything rash, something
that may cause one of us in the air or on the ground to shoot
off a round or two thousand.

Father Fitzgerald was stunned for a moment, as he was a stranger to the nobles and royals of Prussia. He had come from an average middle class family, middle of the road, yet leaning to the lower end of the scale. After recovering he said, "Ah, yes. My Archbishop, Cardinal Marco, is inside. I believe the guards will jsut do a routine patdown, if anything. My King is off in the city somewhere, I believe dressed as a regular person as well. However, if what I here is true, you will recognize him if you have met him." he grinned, and then said, "Well, I'm off to wander the city for a little, see what its like." He extended his ahnd once again and said, "We will probably meet again, Sir."
-----------------
The Ridgian fighters noticed that the Dersconi planes had control and radioed on the secure Prussian line: We are falling back just out of sight, if you need any help just call, though I doubt it. God Speed and God be with Prussia.

John nodded, "I'm sorry about your husband. I will have to visit him soon." Katrina nodded in agreement.

"That's alright. You worry about yourselves as I think there's better things to worry about than my personal problems. The only person who can fix these things is myself. You just get on with the business of building a family of your own as well one day, our kids will be here talking the same rubbish as mum and dad did." Mariah replied still sounding tired.

John Antonette said, "No Mariah, I will visit. I want to see him."

Taiki smiled warmely, "thank you. It's been a pleasure, but I'd better get inside before people start wondering where the Pschycotians are!" He shook the hand again and made his way for the guards.

John Antonette said, "No Mariah, I will visit. I want to see him."

"You are very welcome to visit John and Katrina. I don't like people seeing my husband lying as he is at the moment - he looks so pale and ill unlike his normal self. A military man unable to function without machines to keep him alive. He can things but no more outdoor activities, and anything strenous including you know what. Spends most of his time sleeping or lying down and for a man who spends most of his life outdoors with guns, he's not handling it too well" she replied.

"Saying that he's handling thing better than me. It's so depressing seeing a once healthy person become a prisoner of his own body. The kids understand but I want to have a Dad, not having their Dad dying before their own eyes."

Katrina, sick of the somber talk, interjected, "If he can't do any strenuous activity, then you should just do all the work." An impish little grin crept across her face, and John's at the same time. He put his arm around her, in a subtle hint promising something better later that night.

Prince John embraced the Ridgian John and kissed him on the cheek.

"How ya doin' ol' pal? Keeping your blood alchohol level above point oh-six, I do hope?" Blazhei bowed slightly to King John when he told him where the Cardinal was.

"Thanks. I think I'm going to go wander off that way. We will inevitably meet on a later date." He bowed, full of flourish, and then made his way to the Cathedral to say hello to his Catholic friend.

Veliky Kynaz Ivan looked over towards Katrina. "Yes, your father has wandered off somewhere. He told me there was some sort of business he had to attend to first."


Count von Papen heavily scrutinized the Roanian, laughing to himself inside his head at the sheer comical fakeness of the delegate. He didn't press the issue, though, but extended his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Annirere. Veliky Kynaz Xavier Andropov has informed me that you have a proposition to make."

John returned Blazhei's bow with his own slight bow of the head, to acknowledge his bow of respect.
Katrina turned to the Prince and said, "My father would work himself to death if given the chance. Its supposed to be a party." Her husband grinned, and said to her, "We almost killed him when he walked into my room that one time, if I remember correctly." She laughed and said, "That we did."

Katrina, sick of the somber talk, interjected, "If he can't do any strenuous activity, then you should just do all the work." An impish little grin crept across her face, and John's at the same time. He put his arm around her, in a subtle hint promising something better later that night.

Mariah could read the signs of very frisky couple "Well, you two are on form. I don't want to force the issue - I might kill my husband by accident, and that's going be hard to explain" she giggled.

The Cardinal said "Mariah's right. She's an all or nothing person. I'm going keep Mariah occupied with some chess games tonight - nothing exciting."

Mariah was a little happier now "Hi there, Prince John. I hope you're doing well and you too Blazhei."

Father Fitzgerald wandered back into the cathedral, and put his cassock back on. Monsignor O'Malley wandered over to him, and said, "Let's take a look inside the actual cathedral, shall we? Leave the Cardinal to his business." The Monsignor said the last sentence with some sarcasim. The yougner Priest grinned. The monsignor removed his cape, but kept his biretta on. They entered the church and looked around. They looked up at the massive stained glass in awe, and the Monsignor said, "This is a beautiful church." Fitzgerald replied, "It is, but this is missing something that even our blandest buildings have." The Monsignor smiled, "That it is Sean."

Liam ordered the F-22s to land on the island, as to comply with the Derscon terms. Everyone on the plane was unnerved by the vulture-like circling of the FI-42's, but followed the flight vector that had been assigned. As the plane finally started to enter the airspace of Reichskamphen, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief, glad that the tense journey was over.

"Alright, I'm going to radio those fighters. I want them to know in advance of our little surprise we have. We don't want them to get jumpy." said Liam.

"Dersconian fighters, we have brought along some things to add to the festivities. I think the Emperor-to-be might enjoy them. Don't get jumpy."

The lead fighter of the FI-42s sighed and sent a message back to the Stabistan flight.

If anything explodes, so does your plane. Your flight, escorted by us, will make landfall
at the New Genevan Airport. Do not attempt to travel away from the course we have given
you, and do not attempt to move away from us. Bad things will happen.

________________________________________________________________________

Prince John and Blazhei smiled at Queen Mariah. Blazhei exchanged pleasentries before heading off, but Prince John had nowhere to go, so he stuck around and talked.

"I'm not doing all that bad, no." He didn't mention anything about the tensions back at home, and hid it impeccably, but continued to smile like he always did. "How's Jeruselem for you?"

Prince John and Blazhei smiled at Queen Mariah. Blazhei exchanged pleasentries before heading off, but Prince John had nowhere to go, so he stuck around and talked.

"I'm not doing all that bad, no." He didn't mention anything about the tensions back at home, and hid it impeccably, but continued to smile like he always did. "How's Jeruselem for you?"

"Apart from husband being so sick as I've talking with John and Katrina about, fine. Well, things are fine in Jeruselem except for my family. But I have a job to do and my husband wants me to just keep on going even if it is just a big party. The kids are doing fine too apart from kids being kids, and with a Mum like me - I don't they know what good behaviour is. That's why they need a Dad. Hopefully, things will turn out and this party might just cheer me up. You're looking good yourself - that drink must be good for you, make you live forever." she replied.

Alessa looked at his hand, curiously. For a second she said nothing, as if she was wondering what in the galaxy he wanted. Finally, she reached forward and clasped hands with him. For a small woman, and a Roanian no less, she had a strong grip, though the full impact was felt for just a moment and then she withdrew her hand, curtsying slightly, placing the hand over her heart (left over right, not right over left). "Forgive me, I do not often travel amongst humans." Despite this admission, her mastery of galactic standard was perfect, save for the odd contractions and expansions of vowels that Roanians always unconsciously performed.

'Lady' Annerire sighed and withdrew her sunglasses, blinking once or twice. Her bright pupils gleamed, and she smiled a little. "Recently our...the Divine Imperial... government, and that of a certain other prominent nation, have been in discussions over...well, forming a sort of 'club' for rulers that, perhaps, do not feel comfortable with intergalactic society's recent trend." Her voice lowered, almost to the point where it danced on the edge of hearing. "A club for those, perhaps, of an...Imperialist temperament." She glanced around. "This hardly seems like the proper place or time to go into too many details, of course."

Franz von Papen his his curiousity and amusement at the Roanian's behaviour, and nodded. "That's fine, I do not get to travel amongst non-humans very much. That's more for my subordinate. Interstellar travel is a bit difficult for a one hundred and four year old simple plain old human." He put forth a half-smile and walked with Alessa towards the Cathedral, Alessa explaining the proposition.

"Interesting....yes, very interesting." He glanced around with his eyes a bit before continuing. "Yes, now is not the time. After the coronation, stick around at the front of the Cathedral, I will meet you there, and take you to the Kremlin, assuming you have the time."

(Appologies for the few days without a post. I’ll move ahead to save time)

*New Geneva, Greater Prussia: Sunday Dec. 1st *

Tommorrow, Prussia was to Coronate its Monarch, today, it bowed down in Worship before the one true Sovreign of the Universe. Churches all over the Empire were packed to the brim with citizens come to praise the one true God. The same was true in New Geneva. There were a few scattered Catholic, Lutheran, Anglican, and Baptist Services, but for the most part, the worship in the Imperial City took place in the 100,000 Seat Imperial Cathedral. In the Pulpit was the seeming successor to Dr. Ian Paisley, the Rev. Dr. Peter Graves who had also served for several years as the head of state in New Geneva due to the absense of traditional authorities. His quick action debatably saved the city from tumbling into anachy like the rest of the country. In attendance today was the Emperor to be and the entire Imperial Family. There was standing room only when the Cathedral’s massive 550 rank Schantz Pipe Organ sounded its trumpets. The 200 voice choir stood in the palatial Narthex and responded to the trumpets call.

“Vexilla Regis Prodeunt! The Banners of Our King Go Forth! Lead On, Lead On Oh Christ our one true King!”

When the last strains of the Choral introit had vanished into nothingness, a booming voice seemed to come from the heavens. “The Kingdoms of the World will surely pass away, but our God Reigneth Forever!” When the voice of Rev. Graves fell silent over the sound system the Organ began to thunder a prelude to the Battle Hymn of the Reformation, and the national anthem of Greater Prussia, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” The Choir, arrayed in white robes processed down the Sanctuary finally joining their voices to sing God’s praises.

“A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, A Bulwark Never failing. Our shelter he amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing. Yet still the ancient foe, he seeks to work us woe, his craft and power are great, and armed with cruel hate. On earth is not his equal.”

The voices of over 100,000 people singing in unison shouted the Devil back into the darkness from whence he came.

“Didst we in our own selves confide, our striving would be losing. Were not the right man on our side, the man of God’s own choosing. Doest ask who that may be? Christ Jesus it is he! Lord Sabaoth his name! From age to age, the same. And he must win the Battle!”

The Organ began a martial styled sequential interlude as the choir moved into their places in the loft on the altar. Soon, a second hymn began to sound as the organ reached its new key. “For all the Saints who from their labours rest…”

The Cathedral was so large, and the Choir so numerous that it took two processional hymns for them to take their place.
“Lord, we thank you that we are able to gather here today to sing your praises.” Rev. Graves began the opening prayer. “We thank you for this country of ours, Oh Lord, that it always seeks to honour you and carry out your great commission. We thank you for all the Saints who from their labours rest, and for the Saints who labour yet in our midst. Strengthen them, O Lord for the Fight rages yet and the day of your Glory is at hand. We now pray this in the name of him who taught us, when we pray, to say…”

The voices of the multitude then joined on cue, “Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…for Thine is the Kingdom, and the power, and the Glory forever…Amen”

Reverend Graves gestured for the masses to be seated. As the Orchestra, seated on the enormous altar prepared to play, he looked out into the crowd, noticing the faces of even the Catholic dignitaries of the Empire. Seated with them, was Joseph Napoleon, wearing a black suit with none of the usual Imperial trappings. He nodded genially in their direction as he took his own seat.

The Orchestra then began to play a selection from a larger work to be featured tomorrow during the coronation ceremonies.

“Zadok the Priest and Nathan the Prophet anointed Solomon the King!”

The Choir bellowed out first strains of Zadok the Priest from Handel’s coronation anthems.

With the conclusion of the piece, Graves stood up and motioned to the multitudes to stand. “Christian! What do you believe?”

They all began to recite the Apostles Creed. “I believe in God the father Allmighty, maker of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only son, our Lord. He was conceived by the holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate. He was crucified, dead, and buried. He descended into Hell. The Third day he rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven from whence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead. I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Holy catholic Church, the Communion of the Saints, the Ressurection of the Body, and the life everlasting.”

Afterwards the Church joined in the Gloria Patri. “Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. World without End, Amen Amen.”

“Christians, I hope you realize what you have been saying. What this choir has been singing. These words are clarion calls! These words rattle the rafters in the depths of Hell. They are out STAND for Tradition for Truth in an inconstant world. These are the things, dear ones, that will never change. God, and his Son will never Change. This Church and everyone in it will one day be nothing but dust. But the praises that we have said to the name of the lord in these halls will echo on forever!

With that in mind. It is only appropriate that on this Coronation Sunday, a day before we crown our Monarch…we gather together here to honour an instrument of God. Our Monarch has graciously donated a great sum of money to this Church. So much so that our Mortgage is now paid in full. It was done with the stipulation that this Sanctuary be dedicated to the Glory of God and in Memory of Rev. Dr. Ian R.K. Paisley…perhaps the sharpest sword the Lord has sent to this earth in generations. So it is with a heart filled with gratitude to our Lord that I dedicate this Sanctuary thusly!”

Before the Imperial Service, the Cardinal had celebrated mass with his two priests and any other priest present at the Ridgian embassy, before joining the others. Antonette and his wife, and his gaurds, and the White Rose also attended, along with anyone else who wanted to.

ooc: Sorry for crappy post, maybe more later.

Taiki sat through the service sullenly. He was Lutheran, but he was not a very religious man. It just wasn't in him. He believed in a more private, personal relationship with God, and tended to shun church. Of course, there was also the fact that he wasn't exactly...pure, beyond the normal measures of humanity. He wasn't exactly one of God's "Holy Children". He was...well...the power of something relatively evil resided in him. This always made him feel a bit alienated in church these days. But it was important matter this week, and so he bore it. A sting on his shoulder lit up, and he remembered back five or six years ago. Images flashed through his mind of the needle, and of the labratory that was ruined soon after. The burned out walls and computers, electricity coursing through them. The horrible screeching of the beast. In moments, it had passed, and left him sitting depressed and moping in the third to last, it was always the third to last, pew.

"This morning, sorry to say for the people looking get on with their lives and keep God out of it, will be a bit longer than usual." Rev. Graves laughed a bit. "Today we are accepting a new class of Communicants. Among them, I am proud to say, is Joseph-Napoleon, our Monarch."

This was certainly something of an oddity. Outside of Emperor Paisley, not one Emperor had been a Communicating member of the Presbyterian Church in Greater Prussia, or any Church for that matter. They had all attended and publically professed faith, but even Napoleon IV had little time for the mandates and restrictions of an ever more powerful Church. The Emperor saw it as his Christian duty to become Baptized before he could allow the crown of the Empire to rest upon his brow.

"Will those wishing to join the Church please rise." Graves motioned to them. Nearly two hundred people stood up, mostly in the front few rows. "This morning, the session of the Church has met and confirmed the membership of these people. I ask that you now answer the following truthfully. Do you acknowledge yourself as a sinner in the sight of God, wholly without hope and incapable of Saving yourself and desperately in need of God's grace? If so, say I do."

The Communicants responded with, of course, "I do."

"Should, perchance, you die today...do you know beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt that you will join our Christ in his Kingdom? If so, say I do."

"I do."

"Do you acknowledge salvation to be by Faith alone, and through the grace of God alone?"

"I do."

"Do you agree to submitt yourself to the discipline of the Church for all matters falling under its jurisdiction?"

"I do."

"Let us pray. Dear heavenly father, we ask you to watch over these communicants and help them to grow in the true faith, once delivered unto the Saints. Allow them to grow and flourish...Sanctify them in thy Holy name. Amen."

The Emperor then rose rather unceremoniously from his pew towards the front and ascended the stairs where the Baptismal font had been opened. Rev. Graves walked towards the font while the Emperor of billions of people fell to his knees. "Having made a good confession of his faith in Jesus Christ," Graves addressed the Congregation, "our crucified and risen Lord...I now Baptize you, Joseph Napoleon Peregrin-Cauhain Bonaparte," he dipped his hands in the water and sprinkled thrice, "In the name of the Father and the son and the Holy Ghost. Rise up then, and walk in the steps Christ."

Outside in a deserted area of tshe streets, not attending any church service, hung four men. The one who seemed to be the leader wore a long, opened, trench coat, which reached his ankles, and black pants, with a white shirt, unbuttoned at the top. One of the other men wore a pair of green pants (color of WW2 Marine uniforms), and a white t-shirt, with an unbuttoned matching green shirt. One was dressed more conventionally in a black suit, and the other in jeans and a black sweatshirt.
The leader, through his cigarette to the ground, and said to Patrick O'Reilly, the one in the old uniform, " 'Ey, pat, your old friends, the Ulster Vulteer Force, are probably still around here someplace." The ex-IRA operative nodded, "Probably." William McGinn, in the jeans, said, "I say we go and harass them just a little bit. Might be good for them." Michael McLaughlin, the most normal of the bunch replied, "As long as it doesn't cause division in the empire." The Leader waved his hand, "Not at all. Just a little bit of fun, let them know we still know about them."
The other men nodded in agreement. "Not just them, just have a bit of fun, protect the people, that sort o' thing."
The four men walked over to their old jeep, and climbed in. Inside the jeep was an old .50 calibre machine gun, five Ak-47's, and assorted handguns (in addition tot he revolvers and knives they had on their person) stashed in a section of floor that lifted, along with a few grenades. The machine gun was under the back seat.
Michael started the jeep, and they drove off into New Geneva.

As the truck approached new Geneva they ran into the first of a series of several road blocks set up by the Imperial Guard. Three guardsmen in their feld grau combat uniforms stood in the middle of the highway, flanked by two Panzers and a machinegun nest overlooking the whole operation from the top of a nearby hill.

"Halt! Present your papers and state your purpose in New Geneva!"

The three Dersconis sat through the service quietly. None of them were actually Free Presbyterian: Prince John was a United Methodist, Franz von Papen was a Lutheran, and Tarakh was technically just a "Protestant," but he had not gone to church since a few months before the death of Alexei.

Tarakh grimaced when Joseph-Napoleon was baptized. "I hope he's not a religious nut like Paisley was, more concerned about the Church than the Empire." Prince John glared over at him.

"You need both in order to function as a nation." Tarakh grunted back.

"That's fine, but as an Emperor, his first concern should be the Empire, not the Church. The Church is an organization, something that can be done without." At this point, some of the other congregationalists sitting around the Dersconis who were more devout than Tarakh began glaring back at him, and Prince John kicked Tarakh in the leg.

"Enough of that talk here."
_______________________________________________

Outside New Geneva

The interesting thing about New Geneva is it's location. It, unlike Reichsburg, is not situated inside a nation. It is, instead, situated on the border of Reichskamphen and Derscon, placed there for ease of travel between the two most powerful nations of the Empire, and due to the fact the majority of the Prussian governmental buildings are either in Derscon or Reichskamphen.

One bonus to this is security. Around New Geneva, you have two-fold security -- the inner sphere by the Imperial Guard, and the outer sphere by either Dersconi or Reichskamphen personnel, depending on the side of the border you're on. Naturally, due to Derscon's nature, if you wanted to get into New Geneva, the Reichskamphen side would be the way to go.

Around the Outer Sphere of New Geneva, on the Dersconi side, it was quite clear that the Kremlin didn't want anything to happen. Normally, events like this would be maintained by the Schutzstaffel. Instead, the Praesillei Dei, the Tsar's personal army, was out in force, Armour and infantry scattered about everywhere. Nautrally, they were in close communication with the Reichskampheners and the other Imperial Guardsmen.

But, nothing was happening, and nothing would, so none of the guards were particularly alert. I mean, really, who would be that stupid to attack New Geneva at this time?

The leader was ready to jump out, but instead, Michael grabbed him. He placed his hands on the wheel. He announced, "We have come from far to honor our new Emperor. We apologise for our tardiness. He reached down as if he was itching, and slid a large knife into the side of the seat, out of view. "Sir, could you kindly point out the correct direction on my map?" From the back seat, Fifty Reichsmarks were passed forward, to pay off the man.

Soft footsteps were heard behind the section of pews where the Ridgian Royals were seated. A man of about thirty years of age sat down a few pews behind the Ridgian royals. If one had payed attention during high school literature class, they would probably think him a character straight out of Great Expectations or a novel set in a similar time period.
William Carmel was a man of half Ridgian blood, half Reichskamphen blood. His father was the younger brother of the lord of Carmel, and his mother a friend of the Countess of Sachstein, the daughter of whom he eventually was wed.
He had become a widower a few years after the marriage, but not before he had fathered a daughter. He had been baptised as a Catholic, however, his mother had brought him to an Anglican church, and that was where he placed his alliegance.

Shortly after the service, he walked up to the King of Cherry Ridge, and shook hands, and gave a slight bow, "Your Majesty." He said in a low voice. He then turned to the Queen, and ever so gently, barely touched his lips to her white gloved hand. "Nice to meet you." Katrina said, while glancing at her husband, as if asking, Who is this? Her husband was at loss as well. The man replied, "The pleasure is in fact mine, maam."
He once more turned his face to the King, and said, "Do you not remember me, cousin?" John replied, "I do recall a vague image now that you mention it." The man smiled, and replied, "You are in very good contact with my brother. Lord Francis of Carmel." John simply stated, "William Carmel." The man now smiled broadly, "Also known as William von Sachstein, in Reichskamphen anyway." John now stared even harder at the man, "Or the cousin who was never there." William leaned in and said, "I was there, just not seen." He leaned back out, and gave another slight bow to the couple, bid them farewell, and walked off to greet the newly baptised Emperor. John Antonette cursed at the man under his breath. They were obviously not the best of friends.

After the service, Joseph greeted his guest heads of state and other notables in the Narthex of the Grand Cathedral. He looked less like an Emperor, and more like a minister that particular day. His eyes were aflame with passion and he had put on the full armour of God.

"This is a new day for Greater Prussia, my friends." Joseph beamed. "For the Glory of God and the Empire...we will go forth."

*This is for after everyone says what they want to at the Church*

*7pm, Imperial Palace*

To say that the guests began to arrive at 7...when the invitation indicated...would be a gross mistatement of the fact. Some guests arrived several hours beforehand to tour the Imperial Estate. The grounds were well guarded and the place was crawling with soldiers. It was truely a magnificent location. Two hundred acres of orchards and gardens with a palace whose floor plan was 15 acres.

The music for tonight's ball had already begun and was being broadcast throughout the estate through a network of speaker systems. Mostly Strauss waltzes were playing at the moment, but the variety promised to pick up later.

The kitchens had prepared a simple (by Imperial standards) 5 course meal to be enjoyed by the Emperor and his personal guests before they proceeded to join their subjects and other guests in the ballroom. In the ballroom proper, Open bar was the keyword. Champagne flowed like water, and only the best was to be served.

The Imperial Sommelier had complained to Joseph before, "Your majesty, the cellars will be empty after tonight if we go on as planned." To which, the Emperor responded. "That is what wine is for. To be consumed. If we need more we can buy more. I am the Emperor you know."

As the personal guests of the Emperor arrived, they were directed by one of the Imperial Chamberlains to the private dining hall.

It was intimate...as intimate as any setting in this monstrous place could be. A giant limestone fireplace dominated the room both with its imposing aesthetic presence and its soft heat. At the very top of the fireplace an N in Laurel leaves was displayed very prominantly. This never allowed Joseph to forget who's chair he was sitting in.

"This life I life is not my own...it is for my people...for my country...for my Saviour given." Joseph often thought to himself whenever he saw one of these giant crests of the type that was emblazoned on the fireplace.

As the guests entered, they would find their names on placecards, with the Czar sitting on the lefthand of the Emperor, and the King of Cherry Ridge on the right. A glass of Veuve Cliquot La Grande Dame 1955 had already been poured at each diner's plate and a small bowl of piping hot snapping turtle tureen awaited them to serve as the appetizer.

OOC: Fail, Will. Tsar Xavier is not attending. However, Veliky Kynaz Ivan Rekjyavich is. Try again. :p

John prepared to take his seat, and straightened his uniform out.
Before John sat, however, he gave a slight ceremonial bow to the Emperor, and introduced his wife, "Your Majesty, may I present my wife, katrina, formerly von Papen, daughter of the Dersconi foriegn minister, Franz." When they were seated, and all proper formalities completed, John attempted to start a conversation. "Emperor, I believe you and myself both came from similar circumstances before our rise to power. I was not brought up in the Royal Palace, though did have Royal blood. When the last King died, they could not find the nearest blood relative, so the Archbishop took over. They held power under a loophole in Canon Law, which states that a priest may only hold political power to keep order and if no other alternative is available. Eventually, Francis, who was a relative on the other side of the Kings family took power. It was my duty, however, to dispatch him for various reasons, and I took power." Katrina gave him a slight look, telling him to shut up, and let someone else speak for a change.

The clop of horses' at a slow gallop echoed on a cobble stone street. From around the corner came four columns of men, with 48 men in each column, followed by three men riding in the rear. If one did not notice the modern things around them, they would think they were back in the 1700s. In front of the columns rode five men, each with a large flag. On the far right was a massive Imperial flag, on it's left, a fluttering Bavarian flag, given as a unit gift by the archduke. Next to this was a Ridgian flag, and the two unit flags, one pure white with a red Sacred Heart in the center, the other a blue version of the same, with the heart surrounded by Fleur-de-lis.
The men, members of the Vendee Company of the Imperial Guard, had special permission to seek ur traitors from Marechal Brune, especially violent traitors. Normally, they worked in Sachstein, today, however, they came to New Geneva, as it was the coronation.
They were, as of now, galloping around, getting to know the city. On semi-ceremonial patrol, they also had to maintain good looks in front of the people.
Most of the men's mind was earlier in the day.
The usual convoy approached New Geneva, but slowed to a stop. Captain orlean, Lieutenant Summers, and Sergeant O'Rourke stepped out of their hummer, and approached the members of the Royal Army who were on patrol. They spoke for a moment about a strange looking jeep which was in front of the convoy, and then they approached the jeep. Suddenly, the Captain pulled his revolver, and emptied two rounds into the drivers head, and the sergeant opened the door, as the body fell out. The Lieutenant fired a round at a man in the back seat )only out of self defence, as the man was about to shoot him), striking his stomach, and the Captain a shot at the other man in the back. As all this was going on, the Sergeant ran to the side, and pulled the passenger out, and through him to the ground. The Captain pulled the wounded men from the back out, and through them to the ground. Their arms were smashed, and their legs broken. The other man swung at the Sergeant, who dodged it, and cracked him in the face. The next instant, the man was sprawled on the hood of their jeep. The sergeant produced a tazer, and tazered the man. The dead body of the first man was thrown to the side, and doused with gasoline.
They searched the car, and, found the weapons.
Obviously, the Captain was thinking these were members of a death squad. The sergeant took pictures of the men. The tazered man began to recover, and was hit across the face with a revolver butt. The Royal Soldiers stood their stunned, as Orlean said, "Thats how you handle smart asses." The wounded men were stripped of all possessions, and thrown on top of their fallen leader. The Captain questioned the men, but when it was obvious they wounded answer, shot each three times in the stomach.
"Captain, please, enough." begged the Lieutenant, displeased and disturbed with his Captain's actions.
The Captain ignored him, and watched them begin to die, before finally dousing them with gas, lighting a match, and finishing the job. After the Captain turned around, the Lieutenant knelt, and stared at the man that he had shot, and said, "I'm sorry." The man smiled, and nodded, knowing the Lieutenant's circumstances, then tossed his head back, and died. The Captain rolled his eyes at the Lieutenant, and mocked him, then ordered the soldiers to send the jeep in for evidence, and to send the file to him. They reentered the hummer and continued to New Geneva.

The Dersconi party -- Prince John, Prince Tarakh, and Count von Papen -- all walked in with the rest of the crowd. Prince John sat in the place that would be for Xavier, the Arch-Chancellor, Papen sitting to the left of him, and Tarakh aside of Papen. Veliky Kynaz Ivan and Count von Papen bowed with a smile towards the new Emperor before sitting down, while Kynaz-Hetman Tarakh declined his head in respect before sitting. Tarakh was not one for royal formalities -- he was more Hetman than Kynaz.

von Papen and Tarakh began sampling the appitizer, but Prince John stayed away from it. While he enjoyed food, he was not a fan of Imperial and Royal class cusine, instead opting for a more "middle class" meal.

After listening to King John's rant, Kynaz Ivan scoffed. "Thank you for your history lesson, now shut up and stuff your face." He smirked a little and stiffled a chuckle. While Joseph-Napoleon may not know, the two John's were quite good friends. However, the Prince lost his jovial attitude when he turned to the Emperor.

"I'm sorry the Ts....Xavier would not come today. He has not yet learned the art of diplomacy, and he doesn't like you at all." He sighed before continuing.

"Xavier is in a position to do some....not quite friendly things with his power, and he will do those things, that I am sure. Another thing I am sure of -- I will not be welcome in Derscon for much longer. This may be the last time any of you see me for quite some time." He sighed again, but Papen picked up the ball.

"Indeed. Emperor Napoleon, I would advise you watch Xavier closely. However, I do not advise you remove his Arch-Chancellorship, that may cause....unwanted results." He took a sip of the wine and continued speaking.

"I have served three Tsars in my lifetime, and outlived all of them. I have grown wise, but I have also grown old. Upon my return to the Kremlin, I will be resigning my position as Foreign Minister and retiring to my estate in Preussisch-Kiew." He took another sip of wine before continuing, this time speaking directly to Napoleon.

"I have lived under Emperor Leipzig I, Emperor Paisley, Emperor Napoleon, Emperor Alexei, and Emperor Napoleon on his second run. Sometimes I have directly served them; others, I have simply observed and interacted with. I have directly served under Tsar Rekjayavich Ivan Andropov the second and third, and Tsar Alexei Andropov. I have served Derscon under isolationism, under the Concert and eventually under the GDODAD, and I have served it under Greater Prussia. I have seen and learned much.

"I do not doubt your abilities, Emperor Napoleon, you have my full faith and convidence. However, should you ever wish to come for advice, for council, or for simply a break from official duty and a nice chat, you are always welcome at Friedensburg. And, of course, I extend that invitation to all of you."

King John looked concerned over at his drinking buddy, and said, "John, if you need to hide out in my nation for a while, you are always welcome. The Royal Wine Cellar is a nice place to live." He said, trying to bring some semblance of humour into the situation, "And I will risk my ass to do it. Unless you are heading off into the tundra, where Xavier probably doesn't like to tread."
After Papen's speech, Katrina said, "Daddy, now whos rambling? And I todl you to retire a while ago." John smiled at his wife, and tasted the appetizer.

Shogun Nakamura had finally wandered into the place, his appeance having cause multiple guards to stop him. He finally just taped his ID to his travelling cloak. He came in and bowed to the new Emperor, "a pleasure to meet you, and congradulations! I'm Shogun Nakamura Taiki of Pschycotic Pschycos. He next walked over near Prince John, from whom he had just overheard a conversation. "Yes, Father has been having a right fit every time someone mentions Xavier. Last I was with him, he had been running on for days about it to whomever would listen...even the postman. If you ever run out of places to go, drop by him. I think he'd welcome the company...and another person to rant to."

Prince John grinned at King John's offer. "Why thank you, I'm sure I could make myself at home there." He took a sip of the wine. "By the way, Emperor Napoleon, you have good taste." He set the cup down again and turned back to his drinking friend. "However, yes. I have some....friends....in the Tundra who are waiting for my return."

Franz von Papen rolled his eyes at Katrina. "I am old. I have a right to ramble."

John said, "Well have fun up there, and don;t freeze your ass off. Let me know fi you need anything." He was obviously enjoying himself.
Katrina grinned at her father, "And I," she said, "Can ramble about things that I heard and saw you do and say."

Joseph listened intently as the Prince and then, the Foreign minister spoke. He was obviously riveted with what they had to say.

"Gentlemen," he began after a moment's pause, "It is true that I come from humble beginnings as my friend the King of Cherry Ridge does. But I must remind you, so did Napoleon Bonaparte, the Great Emperor of the French. And so, to a great extent, did my father. These types of broad perspectives give one the ability to more effectively rule than a monarch who has been stuffed in a palace for all of his life. Yet, in my time serving the last Emperor as his personal guard, I came to learn the business of the Empire quite well. Late nights, my father would confide in me the troubles he faced...the disasters and victories that loomed ahead. Many of you knew me a bit, even if only from a distance as the man with a rifle. And to your credit, none of you mistreated me. I guess somehow you knew I would be in this chair, one day."

Joseph took a sip of his wine. "My friends, we are the Emperor's club so to speak. We are a unique breed in all the world, and until recently a dying breed. We, the rulers, the movers and shakers of entire countries...the monarchs and the decisions makers who decide the direction of billions of lives sit here and have dinner talking about our lives and the simple human things that bring us closer together. This same type of geniality among the monarchy of this empire extends down to the lowliest citizen. This is what makes us great...not any amount of gold or land. We are at one of the lowest points in the history of this Empire...but let me point something out to you gentlemen...Empires do one of two things: they explode or they fizzle. They are either over and gone in the space of a few decades or years, or they wax and wain and then fizzle out over hundreds of years. There is no such thing as a combination of the two, and we have been around far too long to explode. There is only one option that history will allow for. A ralley behind the banner...our flag...and a Greater Prussian Empire, and a Greater Prussian Emperor for our Grandchildren's children."

"As for Xavier...I have been watching him carefully. My country may be in ruins, and my Empire smaller than it was. But I am still the Emperor of Greater Prussia. I am still the Absolute Monarch of the Greatest Empire the world had ever seen...and will see again...

I ask you as Dersconis to understand what I say not as a threat, but as a reassurance. Your fable of absolute invulnerability is very much that...a fable. I may not be able to send a two million man army marching accross the plains of Derscon to attack the City...but if and when the time comes I will listen to the cries of the people in Derscon...I will listen to the voices of her nobles and I will do my duty as Sovreign to guide the sword that fells this man. If I must wield it myself I shall, but I would rather lift it into the hands of the oppressed that they themselves may strike with it."

Napoleon then sat back, realizing that he had done it again...he had made a huge speech to a small room. This was often a quirk of his father's...one he had obviously picked up. He relaxed his shoulders and his facial features and looked towards the Dersconis. "No harm shall come to either of you as long as God is on his throne and I am on mine. You can always sleep in the Imperial wine cellar. It's bigger than his!" he jabbed at King John. "And after tonight there ought to be a whole lot of extra room."

Prince John closed his eyes and bowed his head as Napoleon finished his speech. He leaned in a little, and if you noticed carefully, the lights dimmed a bit, and a light breeze blew out some of the nearby candles. As he spoke, it was a deep and resounding voice, but low in volume.

"For seven thousand years, since we arrived on this planet, Derscon has existed , untouched, unperverted, unconquored. Many have tried, and all have failed. I would like to assure you that our status as invulnerable does not come from empty titles." He then turned to look Joseph straight in the eye.

"As for Xavier, do nothing. AS much as it may pain you for what he is doing, do nothing. What he will do must come to pass, and for reasons I cannot discuss or disclose here, as now is not the time. When the time is right, you will know when to act. I assure you of this." He closed his eyes and regained his composture, and the candles were re-lit, the lights regaining their full brightness. Prince John then smirked at Napoleon, regaining his cheerful lowish tenor voice.

"As for the wine cellar, I may stop there before I high-tail it to the Tundra. permanent negative temperatures, after all, does not make for suitable grape-raising environments."

Napoleon was unstirred by John's display. After spending quite a bit of time around Dersconi nobility. He tended to expect the unexpected.

"My friend, Derscon can never be conquered...just as Greater Prussia never shall be. But there is a differance between conquest...and the elevation of a country's goals and ambitions to a higher level by outside influence. Derscon has conquered the hearts of the Empire, as I hope Greater Prussia has found its way into the hearts of the Dersconis...it is in this kindrid sprit that we have a responsibility to assist Derscon in all matters...no matter the cost. This is what being a Prussian is about.

I shall do nothing for now though. As much as I hate it, I need Xavier and I cant go about chopping off heads when I have an empire to run and to rebuild. I may not know your reasons, John...but I have my own."

Prince John smiled at Napoleon's comments. "Most Dersconis are quite happy with the Prussian Empire, and would fight for it almost as much zeal as for Derscon.

"As for Xavier, well, you will know my reasons in due time. But, as long as he is allowed to complete his designated task, I do not care." He began to look around, and spoke up loudly as to draw away suspicious attention and instead act more like...well, himself.

"Now, where is this food? This is supposed to be a banquet, no?"

"Indeed." Napoleon nodded at the Imperial Chamberlain who pounded his staff against the floor three times. Like clockwork, nearly a douzain elaborately uniformed servers entered the room with small china plates for each of the guests. One may note, if they looked closely, that the pattern carried the markings of Napoleon IV and not Joseph Napoleon. Atop the plates sat pan seared foie-gras, lightly dusted with freshly ground fleur de sel, atop a piece of toasted buttered brioche and garnished with cherries and a bit of baby arugula. For the brave Gourmades in the bunch, a Dortenkopf sweet sipping vinegar was served to cut through the fatty taste of the foie gras...but for the less brave, a light Sherry or Moscato d'Asti was served.

The servers unfolded the napkins and placed them in the laps of the individual monarchs and ensured that all of their requests and needs were dealt with before they departed.

Joseph looked at the complicated looking thing before him with disbelief. He had no clue what he was about to eat. He looked at a menu that his father had chosen for a similar small dinner and told the Chef to reproduce it.

"I appologize about the China...but I haven't had the time or money to buy a new pattern. I have donated most of my money to the reconstruction effort...and thank God the people of Derscon have volunteered to foot the bills for this week." the Emperor shot a wink at the Dersconi delegation.

Prince John was in the same boat as Joseph. What the hell is this stuff? He poked at it a bit with his fork to see if it moved, and after properly surveying it to make sure it wouldn't kill him, poured a bit of Dortenkopf and stared shot a (jesting) glare at Napoleon, and shrugged.

"Well, we currently are the largest economy in the Empire, we can spare a few cents for the poor." When Joseph commented on the China, John chuckled.

"It's fine, really. If you really wanted, though, we could have brought our set. Marechal Brune can tell you about it, I'm sure that's the only good thing he noticed when he had dinner, the aristocratic bastard that he is. We actually stole it from the Russian Empire when we conquored it in the 1860's. Well, technically, Tsar Aleksandr I of Russia stole it from your father's namesake when Russian troops entred Paris, but now it's ours!" He decided to try the "food" that was on his plate, and decided it didn't taste horrible, so dug in.

Taiki, desbite being shogun of a fairly powerful country, was always in a perpetual state of hunger. Nothing had satisfied his appetite, as of yet. (His simultaneous perpetual state of poverty didn't help either) The moment he saw the food, he disregarded any ignorance of its nature and dove into it, tearing away huge chunks at a time. Next, he pulled out a bottle of a greenish liquid and poured it into his glass. "A Sakerita. An unusual blend of sake and a margarita. It's quite popular in the Shogunate. Especially around Happy Hour," he said, explaining it to any who were listening.

Katrina gave an odd look at the Shogun. She nudged John, obviously not liking his mannerism. Dresses like a bum, and brigns own drink, and not as a gift. Ugh. Suddenly, she was remember that they had broguht a bottle of wine, and produced it from her bag. She said, "Excuse me, Emperor. Forgive my incompetance," John grinned and muttered, Not in bed. She shot him a dark look, and continued, "But I believe we forgot," You forgot, John interjected. She ignored him and continued, "To give you this gift." She passed him a bottle of some sort of red wine from the Orlean Vineyard's. The Orlean Vineyard's were owned by the family of Captain Orlean of the Imperial Guard, however, was quite small currently. However, this particular bottle was dated to around the time of the former America's Revolution, most likely in celebration of a British victory, hence, very expensive. She handed him the bottle, and they continued eating.

CRUNN Prussian Report
"Good evening everyone, this is Sean Fitzgerald. Our top story in the news tonight: Pantocratorian's have insulted our emperor, with the battle slogan of 'Champagne while thousands starve.' Our field reporters have the story."
Cut to an attractive blonde, with hair slgihtly past the shoulder
"Thank you Sean. I am here outside the gates of Reichskamphen's embassy where Cherry Ridge's government is keeping a close eye out during these coronation festivities. Earlier today, we talked to various Prussian officials and religious leaders as they made their way to the festivities, and also some other Imperial officers who we happened to catch as they made their way to the festivities."
Cut to the Palace gates, where King John and his wife are entering. A male reporter runs up.
Reporter: Your Majesty, what is your opinion of Pantrocratoria's charges?
John: Well, I think they should check their facts, and you should as well. My lovely wife, Katrina's, father made a press release not long ago. I suggest you read it.

Quick cut to Cardinal Marco descending steps of some sort of stone Church in New Geneva
Reporter: Your Eminence, what do you think of Imperial expense while many starve?
Cardinal: The same thing I think of all royal extranvegance, and of what supposed men of the church did throughout history, as I am sure my brother Cardinal knows about. A disgrace, when it actually happens. In this case, it did not happen.

The camera cut to Kynaz-Hetman of Tarakh of Derscon [ooc: Derscon supplied quote and gave permission], who was asked the same question. He replied:
"Thanks to the Imperial Monitor not checking their facts, Reichskamphen could lose billions in aide."

The camera cut back to the reported who said, "We could not reach the Emperor for comment. However, when we were asking, we did get one Imperial Guard commanders view of the situation.
The camera cut to Imperial gates again, where a young Captain sat on horseback, in a Napoleonic era uniform. He was flanked by two men, a Lieutenant and a Sergeant, and behind them were 197 other Imperial Guardsmen.

Reporter: Captain Orlean, would it be possible to speak to the emperor?
Orlean: No.
Reporter: Why not?
Orlean: Do not question me, or the next story will be about a reporter's blood stains at the imperial gates. A press release has been made. That is the Emperor's position.
Reporter: What is your position on the matter?
Orlean: Read the press release. I do have a position about your intelligence, and it is not very high.
Reporter: Thank you Capt...
Orlean: You have one minute to get the hell out of my sight before I place you under arrest you for disturbing the peace and endangering an imperial official.

The Camera went away from the frightened male reporter, and back to the blonde.
"As you can see, Sean, this whole thing is just a misunderstanding."

The camera cut back to Sean, who said, "Thank you. We will be back after this short break."

I prefer it if you did not refer to my old priest's robes as 'dressing like a bum'. It is my duty to dress as plain as possible, it levels me with my citizens a little more, Taiki sent out telepathically. I was also unable to get an extra bottle on short notice. I grabbed this one from my refridgerator on the way out. It also has a very strong flavor that requires an acquired taste. I suggest making sure someone can't hear you before insulting them next time, and making sure that those you do insult don't have any...surprises...left.

Antonette sensed what Taiki was doing, and glanced at his wife. She looked over at the Shogun, and said, "Shogun, if you are going to threaten me, do it publically. You have no chivalry or honor. I do not care how you dress for your people, but you are not with them now." John looked at his wife, and said, "He threatened you?" She nodded, and John looked across at him, and said, "I must ask you to not threaten my wife, especially secretly. If you feel the need, do it publically." Katrina smiled smugly, knowing she had made an ass out of him, in front of the new emperor who he had little to no contact with, in her mind, worse than inflicting physical pain.

Franz von Papen glared at the Shogun, but it quickly dissipated, as Katrina, being around King John, had aquired an ability to over-react to certain situations, so ignored it and continued eating.

Prince John, however, did speak, as, being much more powerful than he let on, could naturally hear the Shogun think-speak, and could hear Katrina think her insults.

"Now, Katrina. It wasn't particularly chivalrous of the Shogun to threaten you, no, but it also wasn't exactly tactful to insult him. He dresses that way because it is his culture and his way of life. You being the granddaughter of the Foreign Minister of Derscon, you would think you'd have more of an appreciation for other cultures, especially when they are within the Greater Prussian Empire."

She stuck her nose up at Prince John, and said, "It also is not very tactful to listen to others thoughts, now is it?" She laughed, but caught herself, at the Foriegn Minister comment, and said, "From what I do know about diplomacy, I have to say this. If I showed up at the Shogunate, I would dress for the occasion. Its not the manner of dress I was thinking about, it was his whole mannerism. One draw back to your power would be not reading the context in which I was thinking it to myself." She said the last to wordws a bit more forcefully. John Antonette stepped in and said, "That's enough, everyone."

"I apologize for listening in. It is something I can't help, for very complicated reasons. I just couldn't let such an insult go. I didn't mean what I said as a threat. I meant it as a reminder not to judge people before you know them or their reasons.

"I am forced to remain dressed down because I have made some very, very dangerous enemies. It is best for me not to stand out due to this. Otherwise, I most likely would dress a little differently for such an occaision. Now, as for not bringing a drink," Taiki said, addressing the Emperor, "I brought what is known as a Sakerita. It is very...potent in its flavor. It requires an acquired taste, and so I found it unfitting to bring some for you. And, alas, that is all we've got in our cellars."

Katrina said, "Then you should not act on it in such circumstances." John looked at her, the look in his eyes begging her to stop. John whispered something in her ear, and Katrina grew excited. She said, "Oh! Daddy! I forgot to tell you! I'm two months pregnant!" John looked at her, and then glanced at her Father. They had only been married for just over one month.

Prince John smirked. "Who ever said I was trying to be tactful? I'm not making myself out as a victim, I'm saying you're both wrong to get you to shut up and stop yelling at each other. Honestly, I don't want King John to be the next President Server." Prince John kept eating as she kept talking; he was only half-listening. In fact, his phone went off during her rant. Prince John jumped a little. "I thought I turned that thing off!" He looked at the number. ...the hell? He glanced at the table. "I'm sorry, but I have to take this."

As Veliky Kynaz Ivan got up from the table, Franz von Papen heard her daughter's exclaimation and was innitially glad for her, but then quickly realized that this would have meant that she had sex outside of wedlock. However, he suppressed his disapproval, dissapointment, and borderline anger and smiled. "Well, congratulations, Katrina! I do hope you raise a good heir for King John. Maybe he won't drink as much as his father." He smirked at the King and then monitored Prince John out of the corner of his eye. I wonder what that was about....

John ignored the comment about Server, because, if he did not, he would have been shot for murdering his best friend. When Franz smiled in congratulations, Katrina said, "Thanks, Daddy." John looked across at Franz, and grinned at his comment. He saw the brief flash of anger, and when it went away, for the time being, he guessed, he sighed in relief. He glanced over at the prince, caught his eye, held it for a second, thinking something was up, then looked away back at Franz. At first, the look was probably something to do with the Prince, but then he shrugged, obviously not caring that they had engaged in sexual relations before being joined together in Holy Matrimony.

Suddenly, the two main doors to the dining area opened. The Chamberlain banged his staff on the floor twice. "Your Highness, may I present His Honour, Marechal Alexandre Brune."

Brune walked through the door, back straight and head held high...the very spitting image of the old world aristocratic background from which he came. He was attired in an 1808 pattern Marechal's uniform complete with knee length black riding boots and white gloves with gold stitching. He very elegantly removed the gloves, and bowed to his Emperor.

"Your Majesty, may I be seated?"

"Of course, Brune, be seated."

Brune quickly took his seat next to the Dersconi delegation. "I do appologize for my tardiness, I was held up with some last minute redeployments in the South...did I miss the foie gras!?"

"I'll have them bring out another plate for you." the Emperor smiled.

Soon thereafter, the second course was brought forth, the soup course. It was a butternut squash soup, rich and creamy. The perfect foil to the cold weather outside. A bright, citrusy Pinot Gris was paired with the meal and the Imperial footmen deployed all items expertly.

"Your Emminence," Brune addressed von Papen, "How are things in Derscon these days?"

John Antonette greeted Brune, as did his wife, and they continued with the meal. The Royal Couple complimented the Emperor on his "most excellent chefs". Soon thereafter, a vibrating went off in John's pocket. He had it set, and the moment, so that only calls from the Bavarian or Ridgian Court could get through. He excused himself, and took the call.
On his return, he informed the table of a "slight problme" with the Pantocratorian Press.
[ooc: I am assuming that here is whent he press releases were sent out.]

John looked over at Brune, and said, "I believe that one of your people scared the, ah, crap, out of a Ridgian reporter. Good for him, those people are too nosy. A Captain Charles, erm, Orlean I believe. A Ridgian, but technically one of yours."
Katrina added, "I do not like that man at all. I crossed paths with him once at some function whent he guards were present, before my marriage. Nasty, arrogant, and all his respect was false. His subordinate was a nice man, though. Apologised to me afterwards, and helped me carry my belongings. Lieutenant Summers was his name. William Summers."
John nodded at the unimportant [or so he thought] comments, and looked at the Emperor. "Emperor, you were in the Imperial Guard, correct? Did you ever have the honor- or not- of meeting these men?" He waited for the men to respond.

Count Franz von Papen smiled at the Marechal and nodded towards him in greeting and in respect. "Marechal Brune. I was wondering where you were off to." He snuck a glance back at Prince John, who was still standing in a corner, out of earshot of anyone there, and hiding his face in said corner. Papen didn't concern himself with the Prince's matters for too long, and quickly returned his attention to the Marechal.

"Well, Derscon is quite well, as usual. A bit of a ruckus in the Kremlin, however." He shrugged. "Oh, that and I'm retiring upon my return to Derscon. I would think that one hundred and twenty years in service of the Tsars would be quite enough don't you?" He chuckled before tasting the soup. "Hmm, quite good."

"And," he continued, again talking to Brune. "If you so wish, I extend an invitation to you, as well, to visit Friedensburg, my castle and land in Preussische-Kiew, the Dersconi Duchy right across the border."

Not really paying attention to the conversation occuring on either side of him, Kynaz-Hetman Tarakh Andropov sampled the soup. "not quite like borscht," he commented to no one in particular. A peasant's soup, borscht, yet it is strangely satisfying.

A few minutes later, Prince John finally returned to his seat. While his face said nothing, he didn't speak at all, which was quite out of character. Instead, he simply ate his soup, staring at the centrepiece in front of him.