NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is dedicated to all the people who recently opened relations, started alliances, embassies, or trade pacts with Allanea. Thank you all.

IC:

Somewhere in a pub in Allanea

“Hey, bartender! Give me a double martini. And a supercaf pill.” – the man is not dressed unusually for this pub. The usual set of dark-red spandex, of course, and artificial cranial ridge don’t make him stand out among the groups of dozens of wannabe crewmembers of the various Enterprises.

As he sips on the drink, the fake Klingon peruses the crowd, watching for a particular man. And here he is – wearing a uniform remininscent of the Captain Archer-era crew, rather then the XXV century ‘Enterprise’, and long, graying hair and a beard.

The other man is Douglas R. Trevelyan, editor of The Isolationist – the newsletter of the Isolationist Party of Allanea. With a circulation of 150,000, the newsletter is tiny – but has gotten five or six Isolationists elected to the seven thousand-man Congress. Soon – Trevelyan knew – it was all going to change. That very man he was coming to meet would change it.

“What do you have for me?”

“A memo.”

“A memo?”

“A memo from Sheshet herself.”

“Oh? Why would you want to give it to me?”

“Read the headline.”

“’Roadlmap For a Peace With Xirnium: An Evaluation.’ Holy Mother of God. This is… Jesus.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s Jesus. But I would say it must be stopped now.”

* * * *
YET ANOTHER NEOCONSERVATIVE TREASON!

You know that we warned you when they sent troops to Antanjyl. You know that we warned you when they signed the treaty with Menelmacar. You know that we warned you when they sent the diplomats to Mars and Titan and Mercury and everywhere. And now, the neoconservatives in charge of Congress and the Cabinet are planning a final strike – they are planning a ‘détente’ – perhaps even an ‘alliance’ with Unholy Xirnium.

Citizens, ALLANEA IS AT STAKE! Come with us to the Capitol! Come protest in front of the House of Representatives and in front of the dirty foreign embassies!

The article would not have had any success in itself – but, as sometimes happens in the wide world, it got forwarded – first to similar groups such as the Project for a United Allanea, then extremists such as the Congress for a Pure White Race, then people on the other side of the political spectrum altogether – the Temple of Karela, the Socialist Worker’s Union, the Anarchist Committee for a Free Allanea, and of course the Peace Center of Liberty City.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of the Internet, a plan would hatch. A plan that had no center, no head, and yet moved, and sent people out to do ‘their own thing for Allanea’. And eventually, a date was set.

* * * *

Day X, H-Hour, Cherry Ridge Embassy

A Unimog truck parked itself in the middle of Embassy Lane in front of the Ridgian Embassy. From the truck poured men wearing the familiar white capes of the Ku Klux Klan, screaming and cursing horribly. Their usual equipment – two crosses – where immediately planted on the pavement and pavement and set on fire. Simultaneously with that, two of the more active, and rather fat looking Klansmen unloaded a large amount of tires onto the pavement in front of the embassy and began to set them on fire, acrid smoke rising into the air.

On the truck was pasted a simple slogan: CATHOLIC SCUM GO HOME!

Menelmacari Embassy

The small square in front of the embassy was filled with red – the People’s Front for Sociali Justice in Peace, the Socialists Party of Allanea, the Allanean Worker’s Union (with all of sixty thousand members nationwide) had each sent at least someone here, and so did the CPA – as well as noncommunists – like the Temple of Karela.

There were also members of the Isolationist Party in the crowd, with immense Allanean flags waving between the red-black Anarchist banners with the words CAPITALISTS LEAVE NOW! and fake purple Standards of Slaanesh.

Some of the more active members have somehow procured several steel cans of garbage – probably stolen from neighboring embassies – and set them on fire, deep smoke rising over the crowds.

From the people holding the red banner and communist insignia, the singing rose:

We`re tricked by laws and regulations,
Our taxes strip us to the bone.
The rich enjoy the wealth of nations,
But the poor naught can sell their own…

Roanian Embassy


“Leave! Leave, you scum! Leave now!” – someone screamed, a rotten egg flying from the crowd and impacting the embassy wall harmlessly. – “Get the hell out of here, you bastards! It’s a free country, and we don’t want you foreigners in here! Gee-Tee-Eff-Oh!”

People with paint cans approached the embassy, spraying the simple acronym G-T-F-0 upon it’s walls in bright blue paint.

Why, it even glowed in the dark!

Taraskovyan Embassy

The crowd here was rather big – even bigger then in front of the Menelmacari Embassy. They brought lots of tires to burn – laid out along the embassy drive way – and a bunch of smoke grenades – as well as stink bomnd paint bombs, to lob at the embassy and over it’s fence.

Some chained themselves to the embassy fence proper – two people even declaring that they would starve themselves until the Taraskovyans left. And a particular lady – Galina Pofigoytova from the Communist Worker’s Cell, a perfect example of a forty-year-old female Communist functionary – that is, ugly and completely unsexy – decided to undress in front of the embassy gate for the cause.

And to top off the cake, a set of Combat Assault Loudspeakers was unfolded in front of the Taraskovyan embassy. Now the Taraskovyans could get their heavy metal in a truly loud form.


House of Congress

“Hold them off!” – the guards stood still, preventing the crowd of protesters from entering the immense building of Congress. The multitude of signs and banners all around the building was overwhelming, but the Allanean leadership looked unfazed so far. Congress was discussing it’s daily business – some clause in the budget – and in the meanwhile, ANN helicopters made low passes over the crowd.

…it appears that around two hundred thousand people have assembled on the capital, blocking Jefferson Avenue, Embassy Lane, Liberty Avenue, and the Madison Interstate Highway. Protests have been seen in front of the Menelmacari, the Taraskovyan, the Ridgian, the Dersconi embassy, the Sakkran Embassy and many others. However, in the general public, their ideas do not seem very popular. According to a blitz-poll conducted by our network, only about 1-2% of the general population favor isolationism as an Allanean foreign policy…

Ridgian Embassy, Allanea
The guards stood unsteadly, anticipating the worst. They gripped their weapons tightly, waiting for the KKK to pour through the gate and attack. The Embasy of Cherry Ridge in Allanea was not one of the larger embassies, nor one of the better protected. However, today, was the worst day for the protest. Joseph Cardinal Marco, the Archbishop of Carmel was instituting the new Chief Chaplain. The Guard began to prepare for evacuation.

Embassy Chapel
After the mass, the Cardinal was sitting on the throne, flanked by Monsignor William O'Malley and Father Sean Fitzgerald. The Cardinal wore full choir dress, while the priests wore cassocks, capes and birettas. Twenty five White Rose stood at ease in the room. Ten lined either wall, two held torches flanking the Cardinal, one a large gold processional crucifix, and two stood as the Cardinal's personal guards. They all wore the ceremonial white tunic, with a large gold cross emblazoned on the shoulder. All had swords at their sides, except the crucifix bearer, and the two personal guards, who held halberds. Also, unerneith, they all had (except crucifix and torch bearers), Sig 552s, and the personal guards, also had p220s. As the Cardinal awaited the ambassador and his personal staff to bless them, a regular embassy guard burst in, and threw himelf on the floor.
The Cardinal ordered, "Rise to your feet, my son." The man got up, but only to his knees. "Your Eminence, the Ku Klux Klan is protesting in front. We are preparing to evacuate. Ambassador McGinn urges you to take the first helicopter out." The Cardinal motioned for O'Malley to give him advice. After he did, the Cardinal said, "Our own plane is in the airport. If we go with you, there will not be room for your own lower staff." The guard replied, "They can stay." The Cardinal frownde and said, "No, they can not. We will break through."
The guard shouted, "With what, Eminence? Your ceremonial horses that you processed here with? All of our vehicles are currently trying to block the entrance to buy us time!" The Cardinal nodded, "So be it."
The two personal guards escorted the man out.

The lower embassy staff was evacuated by helicopter. All that remainde was the Cardinal and his entourage and the ambassador and his staff.

Embassy of the Grand Duchy of Tarasovka, Liberty-City

There was no love and trust lost between Taraskovya and Allanea, which surely explained that the number of Foreign Protectors, the elite Special Forces unit of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs charged with providing security to the various diplomatic installations, was much higher than what Embassies in other countries had. And it became quite apparent as an entire platoon took up position behind the Embassy gates, with more men spreading out around the park surrounding the “palace” which housed the Taraskovyan diplomatic staff.

The Protectors were outfitted with full riot gear, behind some strategically placed armored limousines (immobilized, obviously). Two front rows of shield bearers formed up, in case the protesters became aggressive and overpowered the Allanean riot police which was holding ground in front of the gates leading to the compound, outside of it. A third row with stunning weaponry and gas grenade shooters were also standing ready. Back at the embassy building, one could be sure there were some folks armed with real weaponry.

The protesters deployed some loudspeakers and were now playing some really, really bad metal.

“As She graced Her window ledge
An orphaned gypsy nymph
This issue of the forest's bed
Skin flushed with sipped absinthe”

The integral helmets of the Foreign Protectors shielded them from the overly loud sound, but this wasn’t the case for everybody, namely over in the building a hundred meters away.

“This is getting tiresome,” Ambassador Zarin said, rubbing his temples, watching as the coffee in his cup vibrated softly. The building did benefit from good sound isolation, but the protesters were just playing it too damned bloody loud, and the bass was especially annoying.

“We cannot really do anything about it, they have them positioned outside of the compound,” the ambassador’s security chief said, giving a glance out the window to look at the park. The Ambassador’s office was positioned on the opposite side of the gates, for obvious security reasons.

“Tell your men to shoot them, Ruslan. We’ll reimburse later, but just make it stop,” the Ambassador signed, closing his eyes.

Ruslan Vsekhzarejumbekov nodded and stood up, leaving the office. He already had a plan in his mind.

“Spawned scorned, abhorred by the aerial
She was the light of the world going down
War-torn, forlorn and malarial
She was found
Born in a burial gown”

A Foreign Protector ran up to the gates and gave a sign of the hand to the commander of the Allanean police platoon. When the officer came around, the Taraskovyan handed him a sheet of paper, on which it was rather simply stated: Will proceed to silence loudspeakers for playing really bad metal. Ministry shall reimburse later.

The Allanean had the time to read it and take full cognizance as one of the loudspeakers got shattered to bits, the sound of the gun shot hushed by the loud music. Some protesters looked quizzed and then another loudspeaker went up in bits, simultaneously with other ones. And before the protesters even had the time to panic, their stereo was quite permanently out of order.

“Allaneans!” came a voice from the Embassy compound. “We shall buy you new, better loudspeakers once you disperse. But remember - you shall NOT play horrible music in front of our gates. Please voice your discontent with less noise. Thank you.”

Ambassador Feyodor Ugrimov looked out a window of the Embassy Palace (All Dersconi embassies and their grounds are designed like a Dersconi fortress, with the central palace in the middle, and various other structures and gardens around it, with the fortress walls and towers along the outside of the area) and didn't notice what he was seeing on the screen, as, like in the Dersconi fortresses, the central palace was blocked off from the gates by the "Palace Guard" (which amounted to a wall with nice fancy security things smack in front of the gates, but back a bit). Ambassador Feyodor glanced over at the newspaper article about the Isolationists, shrugged, and went back to work.


Over at the gates, though, the Gate Guardians were getting antsy. While the fortress could not be penetrated with anything less than an Armoured Brigade, large groups of crazy people marching outside is not somehing one could stay comforted with. The security measures were being activated (automated turrets and what not, as well as WP pumps in front of the gates), and the guards were clutching their weapon a bit tighter.

The Gate Chief, a Major, was looking over through the crowds. There were blobs of regular isolationists, another blob of some radical militant Catholics, a significantly smaller blob of Allanean anti-Prussians, and the entire membership of the Tiburonese Friendship Union -- a whopping three people. However, they were in the back, and keeping relatively quiet, as they kept getting nasty stares from everyone else, and they didn't stick around long. Later on, it was found out they were all mugged and beaten in a dark alley by the UVF.

The Gate Chief shrugged. "Well, then. I don't think they'll spill into the Fortress, but, keep a look out." It was his lunch break, he didn't want to worry about nasty things like an embassy invasion.

OOC: Well, I am of the opinion that, since a while ago I helped you out invade Mexico as held by C&A or some such situation, I would have an embassy in Allanea. However, I'm not quite sure why anyone would protest us, I mean, we are only a quasi-imperialistic right wing semi xenophobic ultra capitalistic state, but hey, some people get pissed of over different things?

The Imitoran embassy was not of any fancy build or design. Nor was it set up like a fortress. It wasn't large, meerly a single three story building of neo-classical design, with some Imitoran flags flying out front. If it weren't for the flags, or the soldiers from the RIA standing out front in fatigues with CAR-48s draped across their chests, or the less than impressive wall that surounded the embassy, then it may have been easily passible as an office building or small motel. The soldiers out front had been told of the situation, but at this point, nothing had been done. Sure, they had been given clearence to un-safe their rifles and take precautions against protesters, but else wise, things went on as normal.

Inside the embassy, Jason Anderson of the Imitoran State Department watched the unfolding events of the day. Protests had broken out at a number of other sites, and seperate methods had been employed. The Ridgians, to no suprise of the Imitoran ambasador, were running. The Tarasovkians had shot out some loud speakers, and the Roanians had yet to act. However, from past dealings with the Roanians, the Imitoran ambasador assumed that the response would be the same as a possible Imitoran response: shoot the fuckers.

But, as of yet, there had been few protesters outside the Imitoran embassy. Much was the value of simply killing everyone who argued against you instead of trying to talk it out. If you killed them, they couldn't protest at a later date. While the gaurds were on increase notice, and the embassy had put a call through back to Imitora for the possible need of more men, things carried on as normal.

Ridgian Embassy, Allanea
Ambassador McGinn ordered the important documents to be evacuated, along with everyone but his closest staff, and the guards. The guards were posted on the balconies and the roofs, while all the vehicles were in front of the gate, in a half stupid move. If hit, they would explode, however, most likely injure some of the Klan and cause just enough confusion for the rest to evacuate, aside from the Cardinal, who it seemed, had his own plan. The small off shore Ridgian fleet was alerted. Four assault helicopters were airborne.

Kahanistanian Embassy, Liberty-City, Allanea

Ambassador April Madison stood at her window, facing the angry Allaneans. There were protests by angry capitalist pig-dogs, burning the enormous, Soviet-derived flag of Kahanistan like a filthy used tampon. The Ambassador's blood boiled. She had not seen this kind of conflict since she got out of the military after the Pwnage invasion.

She limped down the steps, the former Colonel's walk still unsteady from the wounds she had sustained in that war. I thought I'd put this behind me when I came over here. When she got out, an embassy guard stopped her.

"Those guys are pretty mean. We're doing all we can to hold them off."

Nearby, several Republic Guards in full body armor were frantically spraying the Allaneans with water cannons and rubber bullets fired from converted TAR-21 Tavor assault rifles. A Molotov cocktail bounced harmlessly off the armored body of a Merkava IV main battle tank. There were four of them just holding the entrance to the embassy, loaded with knockout gas and pepper spray shells, firing over the crowd, the shells exploding against the thick walls of the buildings and raining their debilitating payloads onto the angry crowds.

The Menelmacari embassy was a large, imposing and palatial building in the usual Elven style, one which really looked it's part for the embassy of a nation that had just signed a remarkably one-sided treaty with the United States of Allanea. Its twelve-storey compound, festooned with slender towers and elegant crenellations, was surrounded by an expanse of garden larger than the square outside, itself encircled by a high wall. It appeared to all appearances to be built of an elegant white marble with red streaks, with golden filigree throughout, all of which appeared carefully carved in tastefully-ornate Noldorin fashion.

To all appearances, there was no easily apparent reaction to the crowd outside. If the rousing renditions of The Internationale and other communist songs irritated anyone within, there was no sign. Nobody entered; nobody emerged. The gates were shut, and the lights inside were on as if it was business as usual. A few guards patrolled the walls. One audacious protestor attempted to spraypaint a huge hammer and sickle on the elegant wall - to no effect, for it was not marble and gold, but rather rebar concrete covered with a comparatively thin layer of 'living metal' made so ubiquitous by the near-union with the C'tan.

Momentarily after the boy was finished his work, the coating simply broke down the paint, leaving the surface as pristine as before. Someone else lit a Molotov cocktail from one of the garbage cans, and tried to loft it over the wall, only to watch it shatter and spray harmlessly across the surface of a gravitic overshield. This field similarly stymied those who attempted to storm the gates.

Naturally, all of this would do one of two things. Bore the communists until they dispersed, or irritate them further. Either was fine with the Menelmacari. For now, at least, the Noldor simply didn't care what a few foreign far-leftists had to say. It would not be the first protest in front of a Menelmacari embassy, and it would surely not be the last. For now, at least, life went on.

After lunch, Major Baerchranov, the Gate Chief, wandered back outside and took his post over the main tower over the Gatehouse. Looking over the crowds, and seeing no change, he shrugged.

"Relax, they're not stupid enough to storm the embassy. Stand down and let them do what they want." The guards nodded and deactivated the readiness for the WP pumps and the automated turrets, and the rest of the guards relaxed a little, watching the protests ten stories above on the walls with amusement.

The Supreme Parliament House of Gálatilliön
Naèräth, capital of the Eternal Republic of Xirnium

Question Time joined in progress

‘The honourable the Member for Athrâbeth?’ asked the Speaker, having risen slowly from his elevated seat at the front of the chamber and clearing his throat thoughtfully.

‘Thank you, Lord Speaker,’ replied Lord Aëfinwë Türémbair with a pleased smile, standing to his feat and sweeping his maroon parliamentary cloak about himself with an air of regal dignity. ‘My question without notice is addressed to the Prime Minister, and I refer her to reports, which have recently circulated within the Allanean media, hinting at the Kazansky Administration’s possible intention of undertaking a serious effort at détente between the United States and the Eternal Republic. Would the most honourable Prime Minister please inform the august House of Assembly of the Government’s knowledge, or otherwise, of the relevant feasibility study in question - authored by the Allanean Department of State and rather amusingly entitled the Roadmap for Peace with Xirnium: An Evaluation,’ asked the opposition member, pausing whilst several parliamentarians chuckled at the unusual choice of words. ‘Truly, I was quite unaware that the Eternal Republic was at war with Allanea...’ he added wryly, ‘perhaps we shall need to ask the Defence Minister-’

‘Order...’ warned the Speaker tiredly. ‘The Member for Athrâbeth will return to his question and state it concisely.’

‘My apologies, Lord Speaker,’ smiled Lord Türémbair. ‘Is it true, Prime Minister, that the Government intends to pursue a warming of frozen relations with the Allanean state, a move that would surely constitute a drastic, and rather unpopular, shift in the foreign policy direction of the Eternal Republic?’

‘The Most Honourable the Prime Minister,’ announced the Speaker loudly, giving Lady Heather Gílda the floor.

‘Thank you, Lord Speaker... and I thank the honourable Member for Athrâbeth for his question, whilst also noting with approval his admirable interest in the matter,’ Lady Gílda began. Smiling courteously at her Liberal Party adversary, Heather quickly readjusted her reading glass and took the time to clear her thoughts. The new Prime Minister was a tall, slender woman (aged apparently in her late thirties) with long, wavy flaxen hair and a sober, deeply intelligent face - a face which was rather attractive, but which blossomed into true beauty each time she gave one of her quick smiles.

‘To address my honourable friend’s question, the Government had been quite unaware of the existence of the leaked Allanean document in question,’ the Prime Minister explained. ‘I should add, further, that we have yet to be notified of any intentions by the Kazansky Administration to attempt to pursue a possible policy of détente with the Eternal Republic.

‘The truth of the matter is that Xirnium’s stance in relation to the United States of Allanea has not changed, and likely will not change in the foreseeable future. That is to say, despite any Allanean allegations to the contrary, the Progressive Government has always maintained that it would actually welcome a gradual warming of diplomatic relations. However, and this has long been the critical caveat, it would do so only given the adequate addressing, by the government of Allanea, of several quite serious concerns that the Xirniumite Parliament continues to maintain. The Allanean government, as the honoured members of this esteemed House well know, has consistently and frequently acted in an entirely irresponsible and reckless fashion in the field of world affairs, intervening (either politically or militarily) with detrimental (and, not rarely, disastrous) effect in scores of disputes ranging from Antanjyl, to Finara, to Yazmarea. Time and again, the United States of Allanea has defied the will and consensus of the comity of nations and foolishly placed into jeopardy the peace, safety and security of the international community.

‘I therefore take this opportunity to call on President Kazansky and Secretary of State Sheshet to show the courage necessary to seriously pursue a policy of reform with respect to Allanea’s foreign policy, to transform the nation of Allanea into a responsible and respected member of the family of sovereign states. For if not, then détente, the repairing of shattered diplomatic relations with Xirnium and her Government, shall remain impossible.’

As impossible as an uncivilised and uncultured Allanean developing a modicum of either style or self-respect… added the Prime Minister silently.

[OOC: Sorry for shortness, really busy]

[OOC: Sorry for shortness, really busy]

OOC: You call that SHORT??? I mean, it's not long, but it's not short by any means. Jeez. o.O

Roanian Embassy


“Leave! Leave, you scum! Leave now!” – someone screamed, a rotten egg flying from the crowd and impacting the embassy wall harmlessly. – “Get the hell out of here, you bastards! It’s a free country, and we don’t want you foreigners in here! Gee-Tee-Eff-Oh!”

People with paint cans approached the embassy, spraying the simple acronym G-T-F-0 upon it’s walls in bright blue paint.

Why, it even glowed in the dark!

The egg did not 'hit the embassy wall'. In fact, it stopped a solid inch from the embassy wall as anti-projectile shields formed up and evaporated it. There was no Crystal Shield to interfere with people walking right up to the wall, the Roanians having felt that several soldiers carrying very sizeable and very menacing guns would do just as well.

One of the Security Officers lifted his gun and sighted a spot, then stroked the firing-circuit. A burst of light shot right into an empty spot in front of the crowd, leaving a crater the size of a bowling ball. He called to the crowd, in lightly accented standard, "The next shot will be one of you."

Other Roanians began to crank open the gates that would unleash their 'guard-dogs'. The vicious, bloodthirsty reptiles began to snarl at the smell of so much meat. All the Roanians needed was the excuse.

The Roanian embassy was a tall, menacing structure that loomed over the surrounding blocks. It had the appearance of being carved from a single piece of obsidian, and presented a single front to all outside, a tall dark tower topped by the Divine Imperial Flag. For all that, within it was a bright, relatively cheery place, where the light of the sun was reflected from the shining black stone of the wall and the brighter materials of the compound itself.

Lady Hawk, Divine Imperial Agent to the Allaneans, pressed a buzzer on her desk. A communication screen popped up in front of her, and her voice was patched through to the nearest Allanean security group. "If you don't handle this now," she warned, "your people will die." Outside her window, one of her guards opened fire on an Allanean stereo and turned it into so many shards of metal.

<Jeruselem embassy>

Small robots rolled out towards the inner gate where an unwanted mob where queuing outside and making nuisance of themselves. Most of the "mob" were hurling insults about it's leader being a "Catholic Slut" and it's capitalist policies although this was a misconception as Queen Mariah herself was a bit of leftist but not a true one.

The crowd waved placards and rattled the outer gates but inner gates were secured by guards, but you couldn't see them due to being blocked by the inner gates. The security gate controllers were watching proceedings from their room, with both gates electrified but the protesters don't know that.

The small robots unfurled and showed their miniguns. They looked like something out of Doom 3 and they were. These were real and have killed protesters at home before. Once they were let lose in room full of Masons, and slaughtered everyone in sight including some former government officials. The Jeruselem Inquisition officially use them as well as the top secret "Daleks".

Their infrared sensors all ready to target anyone who tried to tear down the outer gate. They were supported by guards with machine gun mounts. Some guards using only crowd control weapons ("non-lethal") walked out the inner gate to confront the hostile crowd. The crowds got noiser and hurled abuse. The guards just glared at them and warned them people will get hurt if they invaded.

Inside the embassy, things got locked down. Jeruselem embassies were mini-fortresses with a underground area and the doors were solid metal, not just wood and grill. On the roof, guards and snipers looked down on the crowds. Supplies for an extended siege were ready for use and secure communications with fellow Prussian embassies and Roanian were in placeto keep in touch of situation.

Someone lit Molotov cocktail and tried to throw it. One of the guards fired a high-speed paintball at the offender's face who dropped the cocktail to protect her face. The cocktail landed on fellow protesters who rolled out to put the fires out. The guards just laughed at the burning protesters and warned them again.

Emergency Meeting of the City Council of Liberty City

"There will be silence in this hall, goddamn you all!" – screamed the Mayor, drawing his pistol in desperation and banging it's ivory grip against the table several times. "Ladies and gentlemen, let me state it this way. We have a problem. A group of citizens – concerned as they are about the future of the nation – have converged upon the capital, demanding changes in national foreign policy."

"You may ask indeed what is the problem with this. I will point out that the form which their protest is taking – blocking roads, stopping traffic, and intimidating foreign tourists. Now, I don't know if you got the memo on that, but this intimidating foreign tourists part is really bad for the city."

"Ladies and gentlemen, now foreign policy isn't really my job – even though I think cutting off relations with all the outside world will harm this particular city. But I am the mayor. My job is to keep the roads clean so that Mr. Joe Average can fuel up his Humvee and drive the kids to the airsoft match. That's what I do. So let's discuss this. How do we clear the roads?"

There was a pause. "Send in riot police?"

"Can't. All cops we have are stretched along Embassy Lane, protecting the foreign ambassadors. I understand that in some of the suburban neighborhoods, people are already stocking up on extra rifle ammo because of that, Sir." – the Liberty-City Sheriff smiled sadly.

"What if we call out the militia?"

"Uh? You're a mayor. Not a governor."

"That's essentially correct – but, I mean, couldn’t' we get a phone line to the different milita groups in the city? Not the actual citizen militia, but, say, the Constitutional Militia of Liberty City?"

"How will that help?"

"Let them protect the embassies. Send the actual riot police to clean the roads."

"…actually, your honor, this is a most brilliant idea."

Meeting of the Department of State Staff

“So what do we do, Ms. Sheshet?”

“Wait a second. Why exactly are we even considering this?”

The advisor shrugs nonchalantly. “Ms. Sheshet, you must understand the media impact of this… I mean, I realize these people are a minority – even a nonentity politically – but should this become misinterpreted by the media, you must understand that our policy goals would be seriously threatened.”

“Oh, I realize that. This, however, does not mean we should adjust anything about our policy or our behavior to please or pacify these stupid idiots. Hell, I know some smarter Edolians.”

“Heh. So, Ms. Sheshet, what is your suggestion?”

“Remember this platinum we were supposed to receive?”

“Yes.”

“You remember that there were supposed to be ten pallets reserved to gifts for foreign dignitaries?”

“This is correct, but what does this have to do with the current…”

“Wait and see. Let me make a list of ten nations. I would suggest Reichksamphen, Menelmacar, The Ctan, Derscon, Cherry Ridge, Central Facehuggeria… let me think of it for a second.. Ille Sorne would require two pallets, right?”

“That’s essentially correct, Ms. Sheshet.”

“So that makes it seven pallets. I suppose one should go to the Aumanii embassy?”

“Given that fact we’re invading them right now – not a very good idea.”

“Okay, then send one to the Rejistanian embassy.”

“Yes. Ms. Sheshet. That makes it eight. What will we do with the two other ones?”

“I understand Jeruselem has an embassy. Give it to them.And the last pallet…”

“I think you forgot Kahanistan.”

“That is correct. I forgot. I don’t remember who their leader is, so address a pallet of platinum to him and ship it to their embassy.”

“Yes. Would you like me to make this covert?”

“Oh gods now. I want you to get to these protestors, and rub it in their ugly faces, you got it?”

“Yes, Ms. Sheshet.”

The Menelmacari Embassy

For a second, the protestors became silent, as an immense combat helicopter hovered low above the ground. Slung under it was a single pallet. On it was platinum, covered with ultra-strength transparent packaging material – so that all the Isolationists could clearly see what it was.

The helicopter landed the pallet carefully on the embassy grounds and detached the sling with the aid of embassy workers.

On the side, a simple note was attached:

”For Lady Sirithil nos Fëanor, Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar, High Queen and Lady-Protector of Elvenkind.”

Nine similar packages were distributed to nine other embassies in the same fashion, driving isolationists into an increased –and increasedly pointless – frenzy.

Roanian Embassy

The riot police pushed the protesters a dozen meters away from the embassy, beating them mercilessly if they tried to attack the embassy personnel or the cops themselves. The day after, there would be lawsuits, complaints, perhaps even criminal charges. And yet, now, something had to be done to prevent a violent altercation between Roanians and the protestors.

The police simply did their best.

Kahanistani Embassy

Around the Kahanistani embassy, a circle formed, into which none were brave enough to enter – after all, why get shot at, even with rubber bullets, when you can state the same message from a safe distance?

As a matter of fact, many began to sneak away, preferring to protest safely in front of the Congress building.

Taraskovyan Embassy

As the heavy metal music ceased, the Allaneans simply shrugged. They began to sing – first one, then another. While the Allanean anthem was not as loud, when performed by these people instead of by a loudspeaker, the words and tune could indeed prove at least as annoying as the lousy metal.

Official Announcement by the Allanean Department of State

…while we admire the protestors’ for their civic concern and their care for Allanea, their actions will not cause us to change our policy towards anything or anybody. As a matter of fact, I call on the Xirnum leadership to visit the United States of Allanea even now and discuss a new, improved relationship between our nations. It is peace and international cooperation – and some warmaking, as well, when needed – rather then passive isolationism, that will make Allanea as prosperous as it is free.

Thank you for your attentions.

May God bless Allanea

[[I think I have an embassy here from way back when, and I'm thinking about getting back into this whole serious RP stuff a little bit. So why not?]]

The NMS embassy in Liberty City could not be called imposing or extravagant. It was a simple four-story red brick building noticable solely for the combination hockey rink/soccer field and a baseball field that had been built across the street. The States had built it more or less to handle issues of trade and business between the two nations, and had stayed well out of the morass of war, peace and so on that had been raging outside the area since the embassy's constuction. They were so scrupulous about this, in fact, that they had chosen to locate their embassy about four or five blocks from the others. So it came as a bit of a surprise when protestors turned up outside the embassy.

These were not, however, Allanea's A-squad protestors, or even the D-squad. They were disheveled, motley and seemed to have no concrete objections, demands or even notion of where the States were at or what they were doing with an embassy in Allanea. A few signs were being waved and a couple chants were being issued, neither with any particular vigor.

Inside, Ambassador Patrice Girouard and his assistant Robin Fitzgerald were conversing about the protestors. The soundproof building was enough to withold the rabblerabblerabble being emitted by the crowd, so they were able to enjoy their lunch in perfect quiet.

"Well, boss, I've been on the phone with the mayor's office, and there are protestors in front of just about everywhere in this city that's got some official link with a foreign nation. And as far as I can tell, we're getting off easy."

"That's good. Nothing doing out there?"

"Nah, they just don't seem that motivated. The most animated people out there are the ones playing poker off to one side."

Another aide ran in. "Boss! About five or six of the protestors are ripping up the infield across the street!"

"That is intolerable! Little Leaguers are supposed to be on that field in under six hours. Robin, get out there and see if you can call them off."

Robin, being the good subordinate he is, grabbed a mic and ran out to the embassy gate. There were walls and gates, although this was the first time anyone could remember the gates being closed.

"Gentlemen!" Robin called to the vandals across the street. "Little Allanean children will be playing little Montrealais children on that infield in about six hours, and whatever your disputes with our nation, hopefully you will not sink so low as to deny your children and our children their fun and games. Please quit ripping up the infield!"

He waited, signalling to the small contingent of 24 White Rangers* to get ready to intervene if the Allaneans refused to get off the field.

*NMS Spec Ops troops.

Sparks flared as the Roanians struggled to corral their 'pets'. The Commander of the Guard walked along the line. "Hold the line! Hold it, I say!" He lashed out with his own shock-whip, striking the back of one of his subordinates who was, he felt, not doing a good enough job. The soldier screamed and fell, twitching as his nerves jumped with paralysing electricity. It was an almost fatal mistake as the reptile he had been trying to force into submission sprang for the commander, ignoring the apparently dead subordinate. Nearly a tonne of killing energy, it was all muscles, fangs, and claws. It bowled the Commander over and sprang its jaws to their full extent, ready to bite his head off with one sweep.

It was surprised, then, to find itself flipped over as the commander simply rolled with the weight, placing his own feet underneath its rear legs and then pushing up. The creature yelped and went under, then screamed in animalistic fury as he rammed his officerial rondel into its stomach. "Animal." The Commander rubbed his arms, then took a couple of narrow breaths. Near run thing, but on the charge if you kept your cool even a Roanian could flip over one of the underbalanced reptilians, though the preference was always to dodge. "Get those animals sated." He ordered, and then he turned back to face his victim, a pleased smile on his lips.

The reptile's claws kept trying to knock the dagger free, but the legs weren't long enough or designed to bend to hit the blade away. All its exertions did was knock even more blood out of the wound, until it was too drained to continue to fight and it was left to pant, in tremendous pain, as it died slowly on the sand. That was nowhere near enough for the Roanian, who picked up his shock-whip and lashed for the nerves, eliciting more screams and twitches. The other Roanians, the now cowed reptiles returned to their pen, gathered around to watch the death of this one, more than a few licking their lips in anticipation of its final death struggles.


On the wall, the other Roanians managed, with difficulty, to keep their attention off the suffering of the one animal to pay attention to the suffering of other animals. Namely, those Allaneans who found themselves being beaten by the police. One of the guards called to a policeman who seemed to be having trouble, "You're using the wrong muscles! Swing from the hips, not the shoulders! Don't strain yourself, let the baton do the real work!" Even though the atmosphere now resembled more of a show at the arena than a security patrol, with one enterprising young Felinoid secretary supplementing his income by selling the guards various savouries, they all kept their weapons armed. After all, they might still get to join in.


Lady Hawk flipped through her contact numbers, an irritated expression on her face. She had concert tickets for tonight, and she was determined to use them. "What's the windspeed?" She asked. "And where's the wind heading?"

"Maybe 23 knots?" Her principal private secretary offered from where he was lounging in his cushioned chair, both feet on his desk. His wings were relaxed and hanging loose, beating indolently. Seemingly to no effect, though a frustrated felinoid kept finding the pages of his report not staying where they were supposed to. "And heading away from your concert hall, before you ask."

She groaned in frustration and threw her tickets to the ground, then opened up further communications with the mayor, demanding that someone do something.


Meanwhile, her garrison had set up a projection screen on one of the walls. The Roanian flag flew on the wall, and a lilting female Roanian voice began speaking loud enough to be heard over the crowd. "Good afternoon, protestors. We understand that for whatever reason, you wish to break into our embassy and inflict grevious bodily harm on our persons. While we understand this, we feel it is only fair to advise you of the consequences of doing so." A computer image of a Roanian soldier holding a force rifle appeared on the screen. "This is a Roanian Embassy Security Force, dedicated to enforcing the rule of law and protecting this compound." The soldier lifted his rifle to his eye and fired. A bolt of light was shown firing at a human man carrying a placard. "Their weapons have two settings. Stun," the bolt of light hit the human, who fell to the ground twitching and screaming in unbearable agony, "and kill." The human stood up, only to be hit by another bolt of light. This time, his torso exploded.

An image of a low-built reptile with long front limbs and slightly shorter back limbs flashed on the screen now. "In galactic standard, you would call this a 'head tearer'. Our embassy has thirty of them...I'm sorry, twenty-nine of them. They will go on patrol in roughly twenty minutes." Another human man appeared. A reptilian creature loped towards him while he fired a pistol at it, to no seeming effect. The reptile leaped onto him and pushed him to the ground, then twisted its jaws to the side and palced his head between the fangs. The screen cut out before the vise closed. "Please return to your homes and businesses."

A member of Jeruselem Inquisition who was also the head of the embassy security looked at the pallet.

"Platinum! My God, no wonder they needed that helicopter. Must weight a few tonnes. This is headed for space programme indeed and the treasury coffers." he commented as he and some guards marvelled at the large lump of metal.

One guard said "Err, how are we going to move this ourselves? None of us are Superman or Superdude ...".

"Yeah, good point. I going back with a plan, but well it might take a while" the Inquisitor commented. He looked back at the outer gate with protesters still there, and then said "Maybe they should have dropped this on them"

At the gates people hurled rubbish at the guards who got too close. The Inquisitor pulled out his remote control and pressed one of "ZAP" buttons - and a charge of electricity flushed though the outer gate. Protesters were hurled off the gate and people were running backwards. Happy, he walked back into the embassy. People were lying around moaning and hurting but not dead.

After that no one touched the gates again.

The Ambassador looked at the large hunk of platinum. "Well, that's awfly nice of them, but we need to get it back to the Treasury." His aide shrugged.

"Meh. Find another helicoptor, take it to the Dersconi Air Force Base, fly it to Derscon. We'll probably melt it down into smaller blocks anyways. Or, melt it down and make it bigger. Lord knows we have so much of this stuff it's starting to lose value." The Ambassador smirked.

"It can only lose value if people know how much we actually have. Which, they don't." The aide sighed.

"Point."

Pantocratorian Embassy, Liberty City

Isabelle Katalyn, His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty's Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to the United States of Allanea, looked through the blinds of her office window at the changing of the guard ceremony taking place between the embassy gates and the building itself, in full view of the protesting crowd on the other side of the gates. The troopers in their sparkling white dress uniforms snapped to attention, saluted, and called out at the appropriate moments, all like clockwork, despite the noise of the protestors. Overhead the Cross of the Pantocratorian Crusade fluttered in the wind. It was business as usual, with the notable exception that Pantocratorian nationals visiting Liberty City couldn't get to the embassy and those who were inside when the protestors descended upon it couldn't leave. Everybody knew that Allaneans were essentially heavily armed wild animals, especially in large groups, and few were prepared to brave the crowd. The ambassador sighed.

"It wouldn't be so annoying if they were protesting something we actually did." Katalyn observed to her staff. "It's like they're collectively too stupid to work out that they should be protesting the Department of State if they object to their country's foreign policy. Not foreign embassies."

In Congress

"Let me repeat myself again: It is the position of this administration, and of the parties associated with it, the public education must die, and it is preferable that we make it's death as swift as humanly possible. It is with this in mind that we endorse Representative Smith's initiative, the Freedom in Education Act 2006. This is the position of the Administration, and it will not change."

"We must take the final steps into liberty for us, for our children, and for the future of a free and prosperous Allanea."

As the Secretary of Education spoke these words, the doors leading onto the floor were slammed open with violence, and several dozen men erupted in, wearing red shirts and carrying smoke grenades and stink bombs. Within seconds, the entire hall was engulfed in smoke.

"Death to the Capitalist-Mercantilist State! Down with the Kazansky Administration!"

A strong, burly man literally threw the Secretary of Education out of his seat and screamed:

"The Teaching of Marx has Might because it has Right!" – he drew a massive pistol.

Then, one of the Congressmen – and two journalists – and six security guards – and the Secretary of Education – all fired their weapons at once.

The socialist was lit up like a living Christmas tree. Later autopsy reports found at least three dozen varied rounds in his upper body and head.

His associates, in the meanwhile, were being 'mobbed' by dozens and dozens of CREST personnel. They were fined symbolic amounds and released 48 hours later.

Jefferson Avenue

The protestors were still blocking traffic there, as suddenly one of them perceived a change in environment – three massive Unimog trucks, charging down the sidewalk, pedestrians dodging frantically out of the way.

The trucks stopped only meters away from the rows of protesters.

A rather fat man wearing a mismatched set of uniform – namely, a winter camo jacket and a desert camo pair of pants – and carrying an immense ten-gauge shotgun – climbed on top of the truck's cabin. "Now you guys listen to me, and you better listen to me. I'm General Edmond Yates, Commander-At-Large of the Liberty-City Constitutional And Legitimate Freemen's Militia – that's LCCALFM for you. Hizzoner the mayor asked me to stop you guys from blocking traffic. I have me a court injunction against you guys, too – imparing' Allanean Freemen's right to free travel as you bastards are. Now, here's what's going to happen now. Y'all get out of the way and everybody can get home. Either that or my boys here in these trucks get out and have at you with the buttstocks of their rifles and their batons and shoes and fists, and that is not going to be nice at all."

One of the protestors approached, and spat at the General.

That was a bad idea.

Yates didn't shoot the protestor.

He didn't even punch him.

He merely jumped down on him from the cabin of the truck. There was an audible crack as the crowd instinctively took a step back.

Behind him, 'his boys' were already rushing out of their trucks, unloaded rifles at the ready.

This is going to be awesome…

New Montreal States Embassy

"How about screw you, filthy communist?" – answered the Allanean protestors – "Why don't you go screw yourself, and then maybe get the hell out of our country? That's our country, you know, not yours. Go home and lick some KGB officer's boot, isn't that what you commie bastard slaves like doing? C'mon, you useless pile of socialist, statist, pointless, revenuer scum, what are you going to do if I don't get of your freaking god-damned soccer field? It's my land you know. It's Allanean land, so gee-tee-eff-oh."

Pantocratorian Embassy

A little man, wearing a blue Diplomatic Service uniform, broke through the ranks of the protestors. He was visibly armed – carrying a brace of six or seven pistols of different shapes and sizes, and two submachineguns – and twirling a large cane. Thus nobody dared to attack him

He walked up to the doors of the Pantocratorian Embassy and screamed, loudly:

"I have a message from the government! Let me in!"

The crowd hummed menacingly, but did nothing. They had weapons too, of course, but why endanger yourself?


Roanian Embassy

…this is the ANN traffic helicopter, it appears militia elements are helping unjam traffic at several key locations, we hope the situation will be resolved soon, but it is yet unclear. So far, the helicopter had not been attacked, however, we do think that the viewers should remain with us – as should our listeners via online radio, because this is probably going to become much more interesting, really, really soon. By the way, a man already got shot today in the Congressional Hall – that's right, right at the speaker's stadium! You heard it first here – on the Allanean News Network.

Near the Roanian embassy, the demonstration of the creatures did it's job with perfection – the crowd receded by a few dozen meters. But they seemed angry. Behind the backs of protesters, safeties flicked off, magazines were inserted, and grenade pins fingered cautiously. The Allanean police officers stood down on one knee, loading their assault rifles. The commander of the force drew an immense, .600 H&H Nitro single-action revolver and cocked it meaningfully. "Well…" – he remarked to the Roanians – "I didn't think it was going to turn out to be a nice day, either."

And then, help came.

From the sky, a single armored helicopter descended. On it's nose was mounted a peculiar device, pointed straight at the crowd of protestors.

On the side of the helicopter, a large golden bunny's head was depicted.

"Greetings. I am Lieutenant Harrington, of the Cute Bunny Security Forces. I am carrying an Active Denial System aboard this helicopter – that is, a device that will cause you all to writhe in pain. So technically, not a lethal weapon. But then again…"

He paused, and then went on.

"Well, I don't know if it works on the Roanian lizards. So I don't know if it'll stop them from leaping at you and eating your face when you're writhing helpessly in pain."

"Oh, and about your right to free speech: that ended when you started throwing stuff at the Roanian embassy. So, disperse, please. You have one minute, and then I turn this device on. Interestingly, though, I will not be held legally responsible if the Roanians choose that time to… accidentally release their lizards."

As he finished, several people in the crowd broke off and ran, and then a few more.

By the end of the minute, only five people were left.

Pantocratorian Embassy, Liberty City

One of the guards approached the fellow in the Diplomatic Service uniform at the gate, still out of reach of any protestors but close enough to be audible.

"Do you have an appointment? I'll need to see some identification." he said in accented English. "And no weapons are allowed on embassy grounds."

The guard pointed to a sign a few metres down the carriageway beyond the gate, where a red line had been painted across the bitumen, which said "NO WEAPONS BEYOND THIS POINT" in English, French, and Greek. From her window above, Katalyn squinted at the man in the uniform and looked to her staff.

"You'd think they'd just use the telephone..." she clucked.

OOC: Im supposing that at one point or another, we would have re-established the Embassy we used to have in Liberty City. I think we've closed and opened it so many times that I forget where Im up to.. but for the purposes of this RP, lets just pretend it exists.

Austarian Embassy, Liberty City, the United States of Allanea

Adam just got off the phone from the Diplomatic HQ back in the Union when he quickly issued his orders. As Chief of Security for the Embassy, he had the authority to make sure that the facility grounds were not to be compromised - not that it was likely, the building which housed the Consulate for the Federation of Austar Union was much more like a military barracks than anything. Surrounded by high walls topped with razor-wire, it fit in with much of the surroundings, but not so much that tightened security would not have been noticed. One or two snipers were usually kept higher in the facility, and heavily armed guards were posted around the borders - especially at this time.

Protesters outside shouted their angry slogans; what else was new. Relations between the Austar Union and United States had always been fairly cold, with the occasional moments where the Allaneans tried to make peace since the Edolian War centuries ago, when the Union was much more of a member of the now defunct organization known as UnAPS, and fought hard to defend Axackal. An interesting moment in Austarian history. Even still, there was always some group protesting outside the Austarian Embassy. Sometimes there would be peace, but most of the time... no. In fact, it had become a common thing to be hearing of some group who were against the Austarians having a presense inside Allanea, and still the government recognized them as legal. These citizens, protesting filth, were ignored nevertheless. Everyone held a right to an opinion in this country, if only they were also given the right to shut the hell up.

In the meantime, actually inside the Embassy Adam's face grew with concern. With reports of violence from inside the Allanean's own Congressional Hall, it might be time to take these protestors seriously. Things hadnt gotten out of hand here, but he wasnt due to take a lack of precaution.

Orders were given. If any of them breached the compound, they would be shot dead.

There was a hurried conference amongst the Roanian guardsmen at this unfortunate turn of events. An evening's entertainment appeared to have been snatched away, and they didn't like it. One of them leapt from the wall, his wings sprouting to their full length as he did, and slowly 'flew' down to join the captain. "Captain, may we have them?" The Roanian pointed at the five protestors. His voice held the slightest lilt, a mix between an effeminate sound and one of sheer effortless arrogance. "We wish to show them that we are not all bad fellows at all." Just in case the protestors tried something, he looked in their direction and smiled, showing teeth that had been carefully filed to points. He still held his rifle, of course, and the rings around the barrel glowed red and blue. "Dinner with Her Ladyship, and they would be guests of honour."

OOC: I will post later today. Permit me the marvel, though: OMYGOD AUSTAR IS BACK?!

The Jeruselem guards looked on as the five remaining protesters looked like lost sheep standing there while the others ran off. They relaxed and debated whether to paintball the remaining protesters but in the end they did not.

The head of security was resting and felt hungry - and what does one order in the land of Golden Bunny - Cute Bunny burgers, of course. He rang up the nearest Cute Bunny outlet with a rather large order and a very large crate of Cute Bunny soft drink for the kids in the embassy.

Naèräth, capital of the Eternal Republic of Xirnium

‘Good afternoon,’ announced Lady Eléanor Sabëlinà, newly appointed Foreign Minister of the Xirniumite Republic, as she was admitted into the Prime Minister’s palatial office. ‘Sorry, I trust that I am not interrupting anything?’ asked the parliamentarian uncertainly; noticing that the expectant silence which had greeted her arrival seemed remarkably akin to that which seemed to inevitably follow the inconvenient interjection of a private conversation.

‘No, no. Not at all,’ Félix assured the lovely noblewoman quickly, smiling cheerfully. ‘I was actually just leaving,’ he added; and, true enough, the Defence Minister had already been standing when Eléanor had entered the room.

‘Ah, I see.’

Félix spoke a few more idle words with the Foreign Minister, in the interests of courtesy, before politely exchanging parting kisses with the two ladies and moving swiftly towards the oak doors. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening, Prime Minister.’

‘And you as well. Goodbye, Lord Yirchdägnír,’ replied the Prime Minister softly.

Greeting her Foreign Minister with another friendly exchange of kisses, Heather kindly motioned the aristocrat towards a nearby chair as she returned to her desk. Eléanor sat opposite the Prime Minister and waited patiently as the latter briefly finished up some apparently leftover work.

Taking out an ornate fountain pen, Heather applied her elaborate signature to one of the documents with a single, impatient flourish.

‘Well, my friend…’ began Lady Gílda as she looked up from her papers and removed her reading glasses, smiling weakly. Although quite genuinely pleased to see Eléanor, the Prime Minister appeared visibly tired – no doubt still accustoming herself to the stressfulness of her new responsibilities as the head of government of the Eternal Republic.

‘I received your memorandum earlier today, Heather,’ explained the noblewoman. ‘I assume that you called me here about the Allanean situation?’

‘In part, yes,’ admitted Lady Gílda with a sigh. ‘No doubt you and your Ministry are aware of the publicly-made offer, by the Government of Allanea, to discuss the current state of Allanean-Xirniumite diplomatic relations-’

‘-or, rather, the lack thereof,’ pointed out Eléanor.

‘Quite,’ said Heather, the corners of her lips curling slightly in amusement. The Prime Minister looked carefully at her colleague for a moment before continuing. ‘Well… I should like for you to personally go to the United States and meet with the Allanean leadership.’

Lady Sabëlinà, of course, had already been made well aware of this proposal through her network of contacts in the Prime Minister’s department - yet feigned surprised horror all the same.

‘Surely, Heather, you aren’t thinking of actually taking them up on their offer?’ asked the Foreign Minister incredulously.

‘Doubtless that is what the Allanean government believes also. So we shall call their bluff,’ explained Lady Gílda. The Prime Minister quietly thanked one of her aides as two steaming cups of Xirniumite Ardâhwëst black tea were brought into the office for the two ladies.

‘But the Allaneans are mad, Heather; they are naught but half-crazed, violent, savages. Their legislators murder one another in duels over the most trivial political issues. Only just recently there was a fully-fledged fire fight in their very chamber of Congress!’ stated Eléanor. ‘Liberty-City, I hear, is in a total state of lawlessness… and by that I mean more so than what is typical in the barbarian backwater.’

‘Trifling concerns,’ declared Heather in a bored voice as she waved her hand dismissively. ‘Bear it no thought, it isn’t as if your safety would ever be in question,’ the Prime Minister explained as she took a sip of her tea and savoured its rich, vaguely muscatel, aroma.

‘That isn’t the point though, Heather. The Allaneans are uncultured swine,’ stated Lady Sabëlinà stubbornly, as if this fact persuasively settled the matter. ‘What you are asking of is beneath me.’

‘It’s only polite to indulge their offer, Eleanor,’ explained the Prime Minister gently.

‘Hah! Politeness indeed.’

‘And what do you mean by that, pray?’ asked Lady Gílda suspiciously.

‘Never mind, Heather. I shall have arrangements for the state visit made,’ yielded the Foreign Minister as she picked up her exquisitely-crafted, porcelain teacup and brought it to her lips elegantly.

‘Ah, so now you are happy to visit the… what did you call them once? “Barbarian filth”? asked Heather, raising a slender eyebrow in a gesture of curiosity. ‘What exactly are you planning?’

‘Your unfair accusations grieve me, my friend,’ smiled the Foreign Minister. ‘My motivations, as always, are merely to preserve the best interests of the Eternal Republic. Now, what was the other matter you wanted to speak about?’

"Communists?" Robin and the White Rangers just stared at each other in confusion for a few seconds. These protestors really were clueless - the States were a free-market, liberal democracy. Very liberal democracy. Those protestors were nothing to some of the nuts he'd seen back home, protesting for everything from elk rights to ice cream for hobos. Also, private property was all over the place. The embassy grounds were actually owned by NMSoft and leased for an ounce of marijuana a year to the government as part of a settlement over several console fires that had burned down, among other things, the first incarnation of the Allanean embassy.

"Get me an encyclopedia," he told the Rangers commander. He then picked his megaphone back up and resumed addressing the crowd.

"Hey, ladies and gentlemen, did any of you bother doing any actual research on our fine Paladinate before coming out here with your signs, slogans, smells and stubble?" Robin called out on the megaphone. "If you had, you might have realized that we're a free-market democracy with a libertarian government that tends towards anarchy at times. Also, that we're not here to take your liberties. We're just here to sell you stuff." He scanned the crowd. "Like that NM Patriotes hoodie you're wearing, sir." Fancy finding a NMSFL official team hoodie in a crowd of anti-NMS protestors. These guys really weren't on the ball.

The commander returned. Robin thanked him, took the encyclopedia, and turned back to the crowd. "Does anyone actually want to find out any actual facts about the States, or did you just come here to ruin the day of a bunch of little kids?"

D.F.A.T. Raises Travel Advisories for Allanea

LIBERTY CITY - As tensions flare in the United States of Allanea, Secretary-General Carmine Goodchild has refused to comment on reports of violence from inside the Allanean Congressional Hall. The Department of Foriegn Affairs and Trade however has updated their list of travel advisories, for all Austarian Citizens to avoid travelling to the United States for the time being, until civil concerns are brought under control. Military Leaders have also refused to comment on the situation. [More]

O MAI GAWD, IT'S TEH AUSTAR!!!!!! :fluffle:

Building of the United States Department of State

The Department is rather closely guarded – there are six riot police in full gear at it’s entrance, and they are being rather efficient when it comes down to holding protestors at bay. After all, a citizen of Allanea has a right to protest – so it is not the duty of the cops to actually make the protestors go away. Just as long as they don’t attack the employees or the visitors, nothing they do really matters to the cops. And luckily, the protestors have no exact clue of what is going on inside. They would be rather annoyed, for instance, if they knew that the small white helicopter putting down on the building’s roof was carrying the ambassador from Xirnium.

The man waiting for the Xirniumite was high enough in rank to be exempt from uniform duty. As such, Franklin Hughes was not wearing the usual blue uniform of the Diplomatic Service. Rather, he was wearing a set of jeans, a squared shirt, and a wide-brimmed leather hat (what Xirniumites, neobarbaroi that they were, would term a ‘cowboy hat’, and Hughes himself would call a ‘Stetson hat’). He suspected the Xirniumites would find this strange. Oh well – one does have do expose the savages to some culture, n’est-ce pas?

There would, on the other hand, be some items in the room that would be rather familiar to the Xirniumite, and perhaps would even serve to make him feel comfortable – a bottle of wine from the Greater Prussian Liquor and Wine Company (that probably cost more then the Xirniumite’s monthly wages, but who counts?), a Rubens painting, and even Schubert playing quietly in the background. The environment was almost cozy – naturally cozy, as Franklin Hughes did happen to like these things, rather then playing the part for the Xirniumites. That he was chosen for the job for this reason would be an overstatement – but of course that, too, played a part.

Nevertheless, what was about to occur here would be in no way, shape, or form cute, cozy, or nice.

It would work, though.

In Front of the Roanian Embassy

For some reason – nobody later knew precisely why – some of the isolationist protestors did the exact reverse of what was reasonable, wise, or even remotely sane. They rushed the gates of the Roanian Embassy. Bad idea. Really bad idea.

The Active Denial System stopped some of the more violent protestors, dropping them writhing and flailing to the ground.

Some were stopped by bullets hitting their knees, hands, shoulders, falling down and screaming from the horrible wounds.

Some were killed on the sport, their bodies torn literally apart by fire from the helicopter’s mounted weapons.

And six of them actually ran into the Roanian embassy.

“Poor sods,” – said the pilot.

The gunner shook his head sadly. – “They brought it on themselves, didn’t they?”

“Point. Still wouldn’t want to be in their stead – after all, they’re in the Roanian’s jurisdiction now.”

“We did all we could, you know.”

“Oh well.”

The helicopter turned in mid-air and left, leaving mutilated bodies, screaming wounded, and a fearful, quickly-dispersing crowd behind.

In Front of the New Montreal States Embassy

Amazingly, the persuasion worked. Maybe it was the mention of of the red-and-white NMS soccer hoodie that one of the protestors was wearing, maybe it was something else. But whatever was the case, it worked. The protestors began to laugh, and then to slowly disperse – they were rather embarrassed by the entire incident.

This was accidentally recorded by a camera – and within minutes, it was on the Allanean version of Youtube.

The response was amazing – as within a day, the entire isolationist movement became the laughing-stock of Allanea. The video was reposted on blogs, on vlogs, on websites… and slowly, the people at the location of the protests heard of it, too.

It remained to be seen how they would react.

The Amestrian Embassy, Liberty City

Ambassador Hugo Marchand (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/28/Th%C3%A9ophile_Delcass%C3%A9.jpg) took a sip of his black tea and returned to his latest hobby, painting miniature model 18th century soldiers. Marchand had been born into one of North Amestria’s countless upper middle class families that had produced so many of its military officers, diplomats, and high ranking bureaucrats. Short (only five feet six inches, above average for an Amestrian) and pompous, stocky and stubborn, he cared equally for his dignity and that of Amestria’s. His time in the Military, during which he had reached the rank of Major, had further refined his arrogant character with a fiery patriotism that bordered on mania. Glaring severely through his spectacles Marchand was exactly what he appeared; a former authoritarian warrior who thought Allanea’s democracy idiotic. He was in Allanea for one reason and one reason alone, to impress upon any Allanean official who came calling Amestria’s grandeur and superiority. When people did come to see him they had to further deal with his refusal to speak or communicate in “that barbarous tribal tongue, English."

The Amestrian Embassy was a plain building of utilitarian design tucked away in the most isolated part of Liberty City’s Embassy Row. The Embassy was surrounded and dwarfed by a massive concrete wall with gate of solid reinforced steel and toped with electrified razor-wire…

So Marchand could not see if there were any protesters that day or any day. He also could not hear if there were any, as the building was sound proof. His day’s tended to be spent in idleness, as owing to sanctions most Amestrians were not allowed to travel to Allanea and most Allaneans were not allowed to travel to Amestria (most exceptions tended to be journalists), nor were there any direct economic ties between the two nations. The situation promised to remain that way for a good long time as everyone in Central was perfectly happy with the status quo of nearly non-existent relations (and it suited Hugo just fine as well).

The Ambassador continued painting his model soldiers.

The Roanians, needless to say, welcomed the protestors with open arms. And once they were past, the solemn black gates swung shut soundlessly. Roanians dropped down to the ground all around the six once they were inside, and the Commander landed, a little smile on his face. "You're beyond the fields you know now, children." He played the role of quiet, reasonable man. "You're alone, and no one can help you. What a shame, what a shame." He lifted up a small metal stick, then twisted one of the ends. A sharp, glowing blade shot out from the end. "Oh, don't worry." Two guards grabbed each of the Allaneans by the arms, delivering a solid (and painful) shock with their batons to any who resisted. "We won't kill you." Then he advanced. "Yet."

Three or four hours later, a single man was returned to his family, shaking and scarred mentally, more than physically. Not a word would be gotten from him about his experience. He died later that night at his own hand.

The others would never be seen again.

Message from Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky to all nations having embassies in Allanea, Allanean and foreign media

The current events in the capital underline an interesting trend in Allanean politics. On one hand, some people are taking up violent and semiviolent means due to their entirely disagreeable views – such as, the idea that Allanea should cut off relations with foreign friends. On the other hand, it seems fair to say that many opinions in Allanea are being forced out of the political spectrum merely because those who hold them are unable to elect Congressmen due to their small numbers.

As such, I am intending to back a new amendment to our Constitution to enable a new electoral method for our nation. I would like to ask those of you that believe your interests in Allanea would benefit from it, to issue public statements in the support of this plan. While I cannot accept your money for political campaigning, private entities of all kinds are invited to fund teir own campaigns, or donate to the LNC Reform PAC that is even now preparing to push the Kazansky Amendment.

Offficial Report of the Department of Justice on a Potential New Voting System

This report is the result of studies, made by the Helmgoltz Committee at the request of Chief Justice Narragansett, President for Life Alexander Kazansky, the League of Concerned Allaneans, and the Libertarian Party of Allanea National Committee. With the funds provided by Congress under the 2006 budget, we have been able to establish this draft for a Potential New Voting System.

Upon the establishment of the Potential New Voting System (hereafter PNVS) outlined below, any kind of elections to the Allanean House of Representatives will be permanently ended.

While this may sound contradictory in nature, we posit a system where elections to the House of Representatives will be ended, and yet voting will still occur.

Visualize, if you will, a set of powerful and secure computers, running some version of the Linux Operating System (our research recommends some variant of Linspire, however SuSE may also turn out to be modifiable for these purposes). Significantly, this computer, or set of computers, will house personal accounts of approximately six billion Allaneans (every Freeman aged sixteen or over).

Under the new system, any person, at any time, can walk into the House of Congress and become a Congressman. However, he will have only one vote – his own. Using the accounts, Freeman will be able to log in at any time, and add their votes or withdraw them from any Congressman. The salaries of the Congressmen will be proportional to the amount of people endorsing them.

Such a system will eliminate the ‘post-election syndrome’, where Congressmen are seen as performing differently from what they promised in their campaigns, due to either coalition politics or another reason. It will also allow all the Freemen, including those in the minority, to be represented – whereas in the current system, members of small, ‘fringe’ parties, or people whose candidate has lost are no longer relevant for six years until the next election.

More interestingly, it will make the Representatives pay much, much more attention to the opinion of the voters, all the time, rather then just before an election.

While the security concerns exist, we believe there is no reason to believe this system is not secure – not any less secure then the online banking, money-transfer, and stock-dealing software people trust with their livelihood on a daily basis. However, the question of voter privacy remains unresolved by this report.

The Allanean capital fell silent. The riots subsided.

But the silence was an eerie one.

It was a silence before a storm.

A very big storm.

Channel: #bentbackwards ; Server: irc.deliphili.com.au

<Fifa> Hey Ted, what do you think of this?
* TheStupidStoner has joined #bentbackwards.
<Legendary> rofl, its a Joke... I dont see why we cant support an Allanean Anarchists Movement however.. that would mean the end of our concerns. :-D
<Fifa> Believe me, the Allaneans are of no concern :P
<TheStupidStoner> Whats this???
<Fifa> stfu n00b

Liberty City
Capital of the United States of Allanea

Lady Sabëlinà was bored, and she made little real pretence at disguising that fact. Cheap, showy performances and gaudy excess had never particularly interested the countess, and Allanea seemed to her a nation surely to have been built on both such dubious foundations. Oh Liberty City had certainly been curious enough, at least at first. Indeed, it had initially engendered in the lovely Xirniumite a sort of morbid fascination; not unlike the kind that might compel one to peer more closely at a decaying corpse, whilst all the while holding close a handkerchief in order to keep at bay the stench of putrefying flesh. Even so, the impatient Xirniumite’s limited interest could never be maintained by the inaneness of Allanea for long, and Eléanor had rather quickly grown weary of it all.

I’ve far more important things to be doing with my valuable time than this… reflected Lady Sabëlinà dourly.

Such was not so untrue. The House of Chevaliers, that ancient Xirniumite institution which for centuries had acted as official representative, protector, and advocate of the nobility of the Eternal Republic, would soon be assembling again after a recess of three years; and it was mainly with this upcoming meeting that the Foreign Minister’s mind was predominately preoccupied. Even as she peered out of the helicopter’s windows at the towering, glittering skyscrapers of Allanea’s capital, Eléanor absentmindedly fingered the intricate lines of her ornate signet ring and brooded on matters far removed from her current assignment.

Frivolous, imprudent, debauched and prodigal; all of these words described, at least in part, the nature of the Machiavellian politician currently en route to meet with Franklin Hughes. Fair skinned and with a sylphlike figure, the elegant aristocrat was aged perhaps in her mid thirties and of profound feminine beauty. Unusual amongst the more commonly brunette Xirniumites, Eléanor possessed gorgeous ginger-coloured hair, which she wore both long and curly. Having earlier decided against a professional business suit, Lady Sabëlinà was attired instead in one of the delightful new creations of the world-renowned Xirniumite couturier Lóránd Nonótië; a stylish gown of burnt red and amber yellow material, and with a long train that trailed for some length along the ground. Because she found its contrast with the uncouthness of Allanea amusing, Eléanor also wore atop her crown the formal golden coronet that marked her as the head of House Numësàlquð.

But why even bother? wondered the noblewoman. Lady Sabëlinà was apparently to meet with some pathetically trivial Allanean government bureaucrat, a man whose name she had duly forgotten almost immediately after first hearing it from one of her aides.

The very notion is downright insulting, thought the Foreign Minister bitterly. She was, after all, a Xirniumite parliamentarian and a hereditary countess of the peerage… soon to be received by some filthy Allanean plebeian.

Politics always requires great sacrifice… sighed Lady Sabëlinà, even as she reached into her handbag and removed a small glass vial of laudanum.

Downing the contents of the flask in a single draught, the opiate’s ambrosial effect immediately apparent on the Foreign Minister and her febrile craving quenched for now, Eléanor steeled herself for the ordeal ahead. The helicopter landed smoothly enough (Lady Sabëlinà had preferred not to wonder if the Allanean pilots were actually qualified to fly aircraft) and the Xirniumite politician appropriately affected a disarmingly pleasant smile with which to greet her hosts. Carefully lifting the hem of her sumptuous dress several inches, to slightly above her ankles so as not to risk tripping, the parliamentarian quickly descended the helicopter’s short stair-case to the roof of the Allanean Department of State.

DEMOCRATIC SOVIET REPUBLIC OF KAHANISTAN
Ministry of Foreign Affairs

While we are concerned by the fact that voter privacy is unaddressed by this proposed new system, we are even more concerned about the possibility of fraud, in the form of one of the complement of system administrators who would be required to maintain this system altering results and erasing all evidence of fraud.

We feel that this system could be commandeered from within and used to weaken dissident members of the new Congress and / or possibly even establish a dictatorship; elections of Congresspeople are to be abolished at the same time Allanea now has a President for Life. All it would take to rig an election, and turn the President for Life into a dictator, is bribing, threatening, or otherwise manipulating a sysop.

We feel that this situation will cause more problems than it will solve, and urge that this plan be scrubbed as detrimental to Allanean democracy and stability. Furthermore, without voter privacy it is easy to intimidate voters into supporting the government in power; a de facto dictatorship would exist in Allanea, with only the honesty of a few system operators and the Allanean government to prevent that, and the government, of course, has a vested interest in being reelected. The government of Allanea would thus, effectively, be only as honest as its least honest systems administrator on the election system. That is something that the Soviet Republic cannot, and will not, politically support.

Signed,
Margaret Delray,
Minister of Foreign Affairs

Even as Eleanor would step down the staircase, she would be stormed by a small crowd of Allaneans, her eyes would be blinded for a few seconds by a storm of camera flashes – everything from cellphone cameras to professional high-power imaging devices from hell.

And there would be questions, too.

“John R. Bolton, ‘Daily Republican’. Is it true that Xirniumites consider every Allanean an unwashed barbarian?’

‘Bud L Jones, ‘Allanea Times’, what is your opinion of the current constitutional reforms proposed by President Kazansky?’

“Bubba Lionel Rimmons, ‘The BubbaBlog’, what is your opinion of the recent TerrorStrike computer game?’

“Melinda Raymonds, III, “Boobs Magazine”, don’t you think ‘Eleanor’ is a mighty silly name?”

“Sober Simpson, ‘Foreign Affairs Magazine’, is it true that a change of relations between our nations is in the works?”

And so on it went for a few minutes. Eventually an Allanean official whispered to Eleanor: “Do you think it’s enough for now? We could ask them politely to leave you know.”

Eléanor blinked involuntarily in the bright camera flashes and smiled nervously. The parliamentarian was certainly no stranger to the press, but she did tend to become a little uncomfortable when surrounded by crowds of noisy people. Taking a deep breath, she turned to the individual who had asked the first question and gave him her full attention.

Is it true that Xirniumites consider every Allanean an unwashed barbarian?
‘No, of course not. The very suggestion is absurd,’ explained Lady Sabëlinà with a categorical shake of her head. ‘The citizenry of the Eternal Republic are generally well renowned for their great understanding and tolerance of foreign peoples and cultures; and as for my own part, I have naught but the greatest esteem and respect for the Allanean people,’ lied the politician. ‘Beyond that, I tend to find dealing in overly broad generalisations to be a futile exercise.’

What is your opinion of the current constitutional reforms proposed by President Kazansky?
‘That would mostly depend, I think, on whether you are attempting to ask me that question in my capacity as the Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Eternal Republic, or as an individual jurist of constitutional law,’ replied the countess with a friendly smile. ‘It has of course generally been my position, consistent with the doctrine of self-determination, that every nation of peoples should be perfectly free of external constraint and pressure so as to pursue their own collective vision of the greatest good down whatever path it might lead. Baring such in mind, I can only say that it is for the Allanean people to decide the merits or otherwise of this latest proposed constitutional experiment. It is not really my place to provide official commentary on the internal legal developments of Allanean constitutionalism, or of any other nation’s constitutional arrangements.

‘As a lawyer, and based on the admittedly limited details that I have had the chance to examine, the proposal strikes me as technically unworkable, poorly thought out, blatantly populist, and fundamentally undemocratic. It would appear to strike a terrible blow against the very heart of representative democracy and responsible governance. I am given to understand that representative democracy has been a doctrine much maligned in Allanean libertarian legal theory; but it is not merely a flawed means of governance only capable of imperfectly approximating the true ideal of pure, direct democracy. Not at all. Representative democracy is a distinct objective in its own right, with its own peculiar advantages and disadvantages. It results in a government accountable to the people whom it serves; it gives a public voice, at the national level, to the individual concerns and desires of local communities. I could go on, but time appears to be against us,’ apologised the parliamentarian with a knowing smile. The man from the Allanean Times was one of only a few reporters present that seemed vaguely professional to the countess; at least, “vaguely professional” by the vastly more modest standards of the nation of Allanea.

‘Suffice it to say that I fear that these, quite fundamental, democratic rights could be neglected, if not carelessly swept away, by President Kazansky’s proposed amendments. As I have said, however, the question is one for the Allanean people to answer and not I.’

What is your opinion of the recent TerrorStrike computer game?
Good grief! They’ve even brought bloody web loggers along…

Eléanor feigned a perfect look of embarrassment and flashed the young man a smile that could surely have melted most people’s hearts, whether male or female. ‘I’m afraid I must confess to never having played that game before,’ apologised Lady Sabëlinà. ‘You can likely appreciate that in my position one does not always have as much time for leisure as one might prefer.’

Don’t you think ‘Eleanor’ is a mighty silly name?
Eléanor’s lovely smile did not fade away, but it did freeze; at least for a moment. Whatever unflattering thoughts the reporter’s insult may have provoked in the politician remained well concealed behind the countess’ strangely alluring brown eyes.

‘Do I think that my name is “silly?”’ repeated Lady Sabëlinà, her voice maintaining its polite friendliness only with the greatest internal effort. ‘No, I don’t think so, Ms Raymonds. In fact, I rather like it. My name was given to me in honour of the late Margravine Eleonóra Hirulómë, a great aunt of mine whom I never had the privilege of meeting but who was, from all that I have learnt of her, a most remarkable woman. I am proud to bear her name.’

‘Are there any other questions?’

Is it true that a change of relations between our nations is in the works?
‘Oh I do hope so,’ breathed the Foreign Minister. ‘It is my earnest desire that the Allanean government will respond positively, and seriously, to the constructive criticism that we and many other nations have made, on numerous previous occasions, with respect to the United States’ ill conceived approach to foreign policy. It is an undeniable fact that Allanea has done great and lasting damage to her standing and reputation within the comity of nations, due to her reckless unilateral interventionism and irresponsible political posturing; and the Eternal Republic would greatly welcome a fresh change in direction from the Kazansky Administration. Such would be in the best interests of both the Allanean state and the international community as a whole.’

Do you think it’s enough for now? We could ask them politely to leave you know.
‘I certainly don’t mind answering more of the media’s questions, but I understand that you likely have a schedule that you wish to stick to. Perhaps you might make the necessary arrangements for a further press conference at a later point in time?’ Lady Sabëlinà asked as she made ready to leave.

“Oh, we have time for a few more questions. It is just that we believed you may not be accustomed by this sort of atten…” – the Department of State official was cut off by another question, half-asked, half-shouted out by a particularly noxious representative of the ‘reporter’ subspecies of the homo sapiens sapiens. The questions continued for a few more minutes, and then Eleanor would be escorted past the human morass that assembled on the roof, and towards the elevator.

When the steel doors closed, one of the guards said: “I am sorry you had to undergo this… indignity. We wanted to schedule a proper press-conference, but some of those people… you know, snuck around. And we couldn’t really throw them out once they had. That would look bad. And you know how the media are in Allanea, these days.”

* * *

Franklin Hughes smiled at the Xirniumite as she entered the room. “Would you like some tea? Coffee?”

The smile became a mischievous grin. “Well. This is where you act indignant about our inferior culture, and then make demands. And… just maybe… I actually comply. Let’s skip these niceties. You think I am a barbarian that belongs to a society of barbarians. I will act like one.”

He paused.

“I will not debase the occasion, you, and myself, to try to gain your respect or your ‘trust’. People who try to ‘gain your trust’ usually are out to deceive you. I don’t need to ‘gain’ trust. I will simply act, and you will either trust me or you won’t.”

“So there. Being a complete barbarian, I’ll just get down to business. Allanea wants peace and free trade with Xirnium, as well as free travel – that is, that every Xirniumite with a foreign passport be able to travel to Allanea. And vice versa, of course. What does Xirnium want in return?”

“I am sorry you had to undergo this… indignity. We wanted to schedule a proper press-conference, but some of those people… you know, snuck around. And we couldn’t really throw them out once they had. That would look bad. And you know how the media are in Allanea, these days.”
‘It’s perfectly fine, of course,’ indicated Lady Sabëlinà with a dismissive wave of her fair-skinned hand. In truth, the parliamentarian was still a little piqued by Ms Raymond’s unkind slight, though she hid her irritation rather well.

‘I only hope that I made a suitably positive impression on the Allanean media, for whatever that’s worth.’

Franklin Hughes smiled at the Xirniumite as she entered the room. “Would you like some tea? Coffee?”
Eléanor smiled politely at Mr Hughes’ offer but shook her head.

The countess was unsure of what, precisely, passed for “tea” within the Allanea state, and was rather disinclined to find out. In Lady Sabëlinà’s private opinion, the proper making of tea was a delicately subtle art form; and spoiling the leaves of a perfectly fine tea plant due to clumsy preparation (which is exactly what would happen if an Allanean were ever to get to it, Eléanor thought humourlessly) would amount to the very gravest of sacrileges.

‘No, thank you,’ the Foreign Minister replied as graciously as possible. Sitting down on a nearby couch, Lady Sabëlinà crossed her legs and waited for Franklin to begin. Eléanor could not help but notice that the Mr Hughes hadn’t bothered to offer her a seat; evidently chivalry was as unknown to the Allaneans as was an appreciation for culture. Not that this particularly suprised her.

“Well. This is where you act indignant about our inferior culture, and then make demands. And… just maybe… I actually comply. Let’s skip these niceties. You think I am a barbarian that belongs to a society of barbarians. I will act like one.”

He paused.

“I will not debase the occasion, you, and myself, to try to gain your respect or your ‘trust’. People who try to ‘gain your trust’ usually are out to deceive you. I don’t need to ‘gain’ trust. I will simply act, and you will either trust me or you won’t.”

“So there. Being a complete barbarian, I’ll just get down to business. Allanea wants peace and free trade with Xirnium, as well as free travel – that is, that every Xirniumite with a foreign passport be able to travel to Allanea. And vice versa, of course. What does Xirnium want in return?”
Lady Sabëlinà was rather taken aback by Franklin’s comments; and for a moment the noblewoman, who had earlier so deftly responded to the Allanean media’s inquiries, was entirely at a loss for words.

‘Very well… if that is what you would prefer,’ Eléanor began slowly, finally breaking her silence. ‘Since you’ve stated your position with such forthrightness, I won’t bother about denying what is obvious clearly to both of us. You are entitled at least to that, I think. Though I am surprised that you really don’t think you require my trust. And I certainly was not about to launch into some... “tirade of abuse” regarding the deficiencies of Allanean culture, if only because it simply isn’t pertinent.’

The countess vacillated for a moment before making up her mind and reaching into her handbag, withdrawing an elegant cigarette case in gold finishing.

‘You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?’ asked the politician as she opened her slender case and removed one of the extremely expensive, luxury brand Tadëriowë cigarettes (a variety that the countess was rather fond of). Observing that Mr Hughes indeed held no objections, Lady Sabëlinà lit her cigarette and extended the still open case in a thoughtfully generous gesture.

‘I’ve been told by some that I tend to come across as rather disagreeable after having been without a smoke for a while…’ Eléanor mentioned in an offhanded fashion as she withdrew a classic tortoiseshell cigarette holder from between blood-red lips and exhaled.

‘Now, since you spoke so frankly, Mr Hughes, allow me to do the same,’ continued the Foreign Minister as she returned to the subject at hand. ‘Firstly, were your government truly serious about pursuing the objectives that you’ve outlined, truly serious about engagement with the Eternal Republic, then surely I would not be here, talking with you. I would certainly not have been greeted by a mere mid-level bureaucrat whom I had never even heard of. and who is doubtless of trifling significance within the Allanean government. No, what you want is something far less ambitious; perhaps a slight relaxing of trade prohibitions, an easing of travel restrictions, things of that nature? Good for the press, good for Allanea, but with no real prospect for a change in the status quo. You will forgive my bluntness, but the discourtesy your government has shown me is hardly conductive of a true improvement in relations.’

‘You’ve asked me what I want, and yet you know perfectly well what that is. Our position, after all, has never changed. In fact, the only thing that may have changed is some of the obstinacy of the Kazansky Administration, that is why we are having this conversation at all,’ added Eléanor as she let the ash from her cigarette fall in a convenient tray.

‘Of course, I have my doubts; I conveyed as much to the Prime Minister. As far as I am concerned, therefore, it is my unflattering task here merely to listen to your expected refusal to address our long standing concerns, and thence to return home. Persuade me why I should not. You may start with Deasrargle and the Finaran controversy. In fact, never mind that. Why don’t you tell me about the “Ashtonbury” brigade, and its arms smuggling connections with the murderous petty guerrillas beyond East Torontia. Oh, but you don’t know anything about that, do you Mr Hughes?’ asked the Foreign Minister in a puff of cigarette smoke, her ruby-red lips curled in a knowing grin.

‘Let us have real honesty, Mr Hughes; don’t waste my time.’

The Allanean shrugged. 'First of all, I am no petty bureaucrat. I have the rank of Grand Ambassador, and am authorized to sign preliminary treaty documents in the name of President Kazansky, for ratification of the Senate and the People of Allanea. Furthermore, as to the trade arrangements: what you are offering is completely unacceptable, especially as Allanea already has no trade tariffs on goods of most nations, anyway. We already have all the trade we need with most nations - Xirnium is a sad exception. The purpose of our meeting is to change the status-quo, not to do window-dressing."

"Further, the Allanean government does not track what private citizens in Allanea do with their guns, as long as nobody in Allanea gets shot with them. If someone orders a bunch of rifles in Liberty-City and then takes them out of the country to any destination save the Reich governments, this is not any of our business. In my official capacity, I refuse to answer questions about the private financial activities of Allanean Freemen. I am paid to protect the financial and other privacy of Allaneans, including – but by no means limited to – their deals in firearms, their choice of education, their financial transactions, and their political beliefs.

The United States does however ban the knowing sale of weapons to governments known to be abusive of human rights – a black list exists – or those hostile to the United States. This would be equivalent – in my mind at least – to knowingly abetting an act of civil rights violation.

If you have evidence that Allanean Freemen have been selling arms to the governments of Kraven, the Reich, or the foul Amestrians, please provide me with relevant information so these people can be properly addressed and prosecuted. If, however, you intend to grill me about the private activities of law-abiding Allaneans, I believe you are, indeed, wasting your time.

You have the illusion, it seems, that I am willing to break the very principles on which Allanea is founded to curry 'cosmetic favors' with Xirnium.

No.

I am giving you an offer. The friendship and open hand of Allanea, free trade and peace – in response to free trade and peace with Xirnium.

This is what I have to offer.

If you came to offer us something less then trade and peace, perhaps you should not have come."

‘Ah, yes… I see now,’ replied the countess, mildly annoyed at the Allanean’s explanation. ‘President Kazansky can always find the time to personally lead romantically heroic infantry charges as if he were a simple non-commissioned officer, and yet he delegates the reception of another nation’s Foreign Minister to a mere emissary of the Allanean diplomatic service,’ summarised Lady Sabëlinà as she let more grey ash fall from her cigarette with a gentle tap. ‘Alexander certainly knows how to make a fine first impression. I suppose that somehow I should feel grateful for the fact that the Allanean Government, at least, has seen fit to invest you with plenipotentiary powers, and that I’m not talking instead with a brick wall? You will forgive me if I do not.’

The noblewoman reluctantly put aside her irritation for a moment and returned to the substantive topic of the meeting.

‘Your Government’s stubborn and irresponsible refusal even to consider curbing the private Allanean gun trade is, quite frankly, disgusting,’ continued Eléanor. ‘Allanea ranks amongst the top five most active suppliers in the international small arms black market. Allanean weapons have been linked to some of the world’s bloodiest conflicts and most notorious terrorist organisations; such as the aforementioned guerrillas that infest the hinterland beyond East Torontia. Allanean arms smugglers fuel the cruel campaigns of innumerable minor dictators and petty warlords.

‘Allanean firearms violently take away, at gunpoint, the civil rights of countless others. More importantly,’ added the Foreign Minister , ‘they have endangered Xirniumite interests; both directly, and indirectly due to the economic and socio-political uncertainty that the conflict hotspots generate.

‘And yet your vaunted, shamelessly hypocritical “principals” prevent the Allanean government from intervening. You actually stand before me (with a straight face, no less) and talk about Amestria in the same breath as you do Kraven and the Reich; and then you also tell me that you can’t and won’t deal with Allanea’s merchants of death. Illegal Allanean small arms result in upwards of tens of thousands of deaths worldwide every year. Well over eighty percent of all casualties caused by Allanean-origin firearms are innocent women and children. I wonder what the Amestrian government has done to place itself on par even with your nation’s grisly record, much less those of the other states that you claim to despise...

‘Before you say anything, Mr Hughes, the issue here is not only Allanea’s role in the international gun trade. Rather, such is merely symptomatic of our wider concern, and that is the Allanean Government’s perverse worldview. The very same worldview that resulted in the obscene Allanean-caused casualties of the Yazmarean war, or the recognition of the Deasrarglean revolutionary seperatists as a legitimate government by the Allanean state.’

And, of course, there is the open secret that many of the actions of the so-called “private Allanean freemen” are, in fact, little more than poorly disguised unofficial activities of Allanea’s Government itself, done without proper sanction so as to distance the United States from acts it would rather not be associated with, thought Eléanor.

‘Tell me, Mr Hughes, why my misgivings with respect to the Allanean Government are unfounded. You claim to want friendship but dismiss my perfectly reasonable wish to preserve Xirnium’s safety and security; on the grounds that it would be an unacceptable infringement upon the economic privacy of the common Allanean. If Allanean wishes to continue to act like a pariah, why should my nation treat her as anything but?’

________________
OOC: Apologies for uninspired writing.

"Why, yes, grateful is what you're supposed to feel. So, I feel you just inferred that the freedom that Allanean citizens enjoy is against Xirniumite interests. Very well. I suppose that tells us a lot – and I mean a whole lot – about Xirniumite interest. Let me restate the Allanean Constitution for you, in case your powers of Constitutional scholarship have failed you yet again."

The Allanean pauses and proceeds to recite from memory.

"Article five, section one, paragraph eight. It begins so: 'A well-regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.' Let me get this clear: Shall. Not. Be. Fucking. Infringed."

Another pause. "But I realize this could be open to creative interpretation. The courts in Old America had been, at times, very creative about that. So, when we got us together, and with the blessings of God, set us up Allanea, we added a few short stipulations – just because we really don't like some appointed assholes in black robes getting creative on us. So we continue: 'The right of the individual to keep and bear arms, ammunition, transportation, and weapons of war, for the purposes of defense of self, household, community, enterprise, State, Nation, or Republic, shall be sacrosanct, as shall the right to such defense, and no Government, corporation, artificial entity, or private individual shall infringe upon these rights, nor shall any Government regulate, tax, impede, prohibit, survey, or in any other manner interfere in the free possession, transport, import, export, sale, or keeping of arms, ammunition, transportation or devices or publications involved in maintaining these rights.'"

"As you see, clearly, it is not up to me to repeal the freedoms upon which Blessed Allanea is based. Nor is it, I add, up to President Kazansky, Congress, and the Courts combined. If we were to try, the people, armed with those very same guns, would arrest us, try us – by a fair trial by jury, and execute us. And frankly, I think they'd be right to do so."

"It is certainly not up to me to validate your unsubstantiated claims – yes, unsubstantiated until you provide statistical information from thousands of hotspots around the world where running water, much less criminological expertise about who was killed with what gun, is unavailable – it is not up to me to validate your unsubstantiated claims by complying with them."

"Now, here's this. We offer you access to an enormous market, larger by a huge margin – three times larger – then the combined population of Xirnium. You can either take it, or leave it. As for pariahs… Allanea is a member of Sovereign League, the Extra-Solar Union of System, the Greater Prussian Empire, the Knootian International Stability Organization, the Martian Free Trade Area, and the Mangalan Accords. Anybody that can use the addition function of a calculator could find that Allanea, while not an international power on the level of, say, the glorious Questarian empire, still has at the very lowest count approximately eighty different states which it can call allies, and somewhere to the tune of a hundred or so separate free-trade partner nations."

"Xirnium on the other hand has near-deliberately destroyed it's relationship with the Adamantine Alliance members… the only close allies it had. Eleanor my dear… we may not be the most popular nation in the world… but I don't think you are quite the right person to be calling us pariahs."

‘Hmm, I think that I probably need a stiff drink,’ explained Lady Sabëlinà as she peered over at the room’s liquor cabinet. ‘May I help myself?’ she asked.

A true gentleman, someone from Xirnium, for instance, would already have offered me a drink… reflected the Xirniumite lady critically.

The Allanean shrugged indifferently in response to the noblewoman’s inquiry. Standing gracefully from her seat, Eléanor methodically poured herself a small glass of scotch whisky, adding some ice with a sharp clink.

Surely not even the Allaneans could botch an attempt at distilling whisky, reasoned the Foreign Minister uncertainly as she examined her glass.

‘I am afraid that I do not believe, even for the briefest moment, Mr Hughes, that your entirely superfluous “constitutional” argument has any tangible relevance to our current discussion,’ explained Lady Sabëlinà with her slender back still to Franklin. Taking a small sip of the burning liquid, the countess turned around to face the ambassador and leant backwards nonchalantly against the edge of the bar’s counter, her posture ramrod straight.

‘You mentioned yourself that the sale of arms to certain blacklisted governments, like the Amestrian state, is considered an offence under Allanea’s law,’ pointed out Eléanor. ‘Clearly, then, the freedom from government regulation, prohibition, or any other manner of interference, in the export and sale of arms is not nearly as absolute a liberty as you wish to imply; despite your silly bravado. Merely it is a fact that the political will is lacking to apply such exceptions to your constitutional liberty uniformly, or even rationally. How else can you explain away your hypocritical stated desire to prosecute those who have sold weapons to “the foul Amestrians”, whilst you simultaneously turn a blind eye to the countless petty warlords and terrorist organisations that your people arm every day?

‘So much for the freedoms upon which “Blessed” Allanea is based,’ mocked the countess with a cruel smile.

‘With respect to the matter of free trade… the Xirniumite Parliament levied economic and political sanctions against the United States for good reason,’ continued Eléanor. ‘Nothing that I have heard here today gives me cause to believe that the time has now come to remove those sanctions. Indeed, our meeting here has instead confirmed to me that our concerns with respect to the Allanean Government were entirely well founded; and as relevant now as they were on the day that the embargo first commenced. As for the opportunity cost of missed gains from trade with Allanea; these are costs that my Government is perfectly willing to pay,’ explained the noblewoman with a shrug of her slight shoulders. ‘I am minded, therefore, to respectfully reject your offer of a free trade agreement.’

‘I see now that this meeting has been a largely fruitless affair, and I’m disappointed that it could not have been more successful,’ sighed Eléanor. ‘You said that the Kazansky Administration wanted peace, prosperity and friendship. In reply I can offer you the possibility of a non-aggression pact and the modest liberalisation of certain trade barriers between the Eternal Republic and Allanean. Given your stubborn lack of any cooperation, that is all that I am willing to offer, not that I particularly expect that you will accept it. I won’t take up any more of your time, Mr Hughes; if you wish to find me I shall be making a brief visit to the Xirniumite embassy before I return home.’

"The principle is clear to me. It's the principle of rights. The Amestrian state has declared itself, again and again, to be an enemy of civil rights as they are known to us. To sell – weapons, flour, teddy bears, anything – to the Amestrian state is legally the equivalent of arming a robber who has just informed you of his intent to rob a bank. Now… there may be an option of adding some of the Idaho militias to the black list – once you provide evidence to Congress of their anti-freedom activities. Otherwise the chance exists this may be challenged in court."

He paused. "And of course there's the fact that there's no gun registration in Allanea. It'd be possible for de Villepin himself to wander into a gun store in Liberty-City and fill out a bulk order, and nobody would ever know. Regardless, the blacklist does prevent major sales by our arms corporations, or anything on that scale."

He paused. "This is a form of compromise I am willing to offer. Provide me with the necessary legal tools to add those… warlords? – to the blacklist, and then they will be so added."
"Regardless, you must understand what the blacklist does. It does only one thing. It prohibits people from knowingly selling arms to these people. It does not provide an enforcement mechanism above the usual court process, it does not make for registration, licensing, or a similar liberty-reducing scheme. As such, just as there are surely Allanean rifles in the hand of Reich forces and of Amestrian vermin soldiers, there will be Allanean rifles in Idaho. Perhaps there will not be bulk orders of Allanean tanks, but there are not any either way."

"Now, that is the only compromise I am willing to entertain – in exchange for a full-out free trade agreement with Xirnium."

Eléanor’s lovely blood-red lips broke into an amused smile.

‘Ah… so in exchange for the wholesale removal of all sanctions levied against Allanea, and the implementation of a comprehensive free trade agreement between the United States and Eternal Republic, you shall offer the Xirniumite Government the chance to do your Government’s job; that is, to gather evidence for the purposes of determining whether or not Allanean “freemen,”’ and here the noblewoman sneered openly at the term, ‘are busy arming terrorist organisations or petty dictatorships engaged in crimes against humanity. My word, aren’t we so very generous?’ mocked Lady Sabëlinà.

‘Besides, as I said before, Allanea’s gun smuggling activities are only a small part of a much wider problem – that of the United States’ fundamentally irresponsible foreign policy,’ pointed out the Foreign Minister. ‘And your pathetically inadequate “compromise” only serves to makes me even more concerned about that point.’

‘Goodbye, Franklin.’

There was a snap as a powerful lock inside the office door snapped itself shut behind Eleanor, and Hughes rose from his desk. "You may have the illusion that you being here constitutes a matter of some form of right, and that you debate things with me upon some fake grounds of 'international law'. Wrong, and wrong. You may have the illusion you are in position to impose terms, to pressure me, or to mock, openly, the freedom Allaneans possess. Wrong, wrong, and wrong again."

He paused. "You, Eleanor, are a guest in this nation, and in this building. Nothing else. You do not make demands on me or, much less, on the People of the United States. You make requests. I fulfil them. Or I do not. This is all."

"I do not have to be dealing with you, letting you into my office – or letting you out of it once you arrive. You're an official from a foreign nation that the United States is – as you pointed out – legally at war with. Anything I do here is a favor which you must regard as a token of absolute generosity."

"Now, I would suggest you receive – as a token of my affection, of course – this book."

It is a tiny, colorful booklet – something titled Allanea's People and Her Culture: A Guide. Hughes does not bother to give it to Eleanor – he simply plops it down on the table in front of her. "I suggest you educate yourself about the people of Allanea before attempting to deal with us again."

The door opens with another loud snapping noise.

"You are free to leave now, Eleanor."

‘How dare you… you filthy fucking swine!’ spat Eléanor, her lovely face contorted with frighteningly intense hatred. The Foreign Minister threw the Allanean book across the room in disgust.

Lady Sabëlinà considered leaving without a further word, but paused in the office’s doorway.

‘Do you actually think that by threatening me, a person whom you have invited into your nation and who was foolish enough to have actually come to it in good faith, that you stand to improve your cause?’ asked the noblewoman. ‘Are these theatrics of yours somehow supposed to make me more receptive to the offer of a free trade agreement? Perhaps you actually think that you can intimidate me or my Government with such stupid stunts?’

‘Fuck you, Mr Hughes,’ Lady Sabëlinà yelled angrily as she stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind herself with considerable force.

______________
OOC: Exeunt Xirniumites

OOC: Haha! Quite a good read.

OOC: Yes, it is. And it's Exit, not Exeunt, since eunt is the plural of ire

OOC: Yes, it is. And it's Exit, not Exeunt, since eunt is the plural of ire

OOC:

Definitions of exeunt on the Web:

* a stage direction calling for more than one person to exit, corresponding to the Latin exeunt ("they exit").
www.answers.com/topic/theater-terms

* (L), they go out.
www.willdurant.com/glossary.htm

* a Latin stage direction meaning “exit” but referring to two or more characters. Exeunt omnes means “all exit.”
www.iolani.org/usacad_eng_eng10dterms_cw9404.htm

A while ago an Allanean official arrived at the Pantocratorian embassy but you didn't respond to any interaction with him. Should I take it that nothing of substance happened?

OOC: Yes, and only one person (or participant) has exited. I'll post on the weekend.