The Resurgent Dream
16-10-2007, 03:41
Elizabeth Hunter had never actually been to Ariddia before, although she had mentioned it in countless speeches and policy proposals. The twenty-six year old leader of the Communist Party had technically never been outside the Confederated Peoples, although, when she had been younger, what was now the Confederated Peoples had been no fewer than ten sovereign nations. This trip was not to be an official one but an attempt to build support for the Free Vespasian Movement within Ariddia.
Right now, she was looking out the window of her plane and down to the ocean below. She found it strangely relaxing. The ocean seemed to stretch on forever, an impression which allowed her to forget her more immediate worries, at least for a time. She was, in fact, worried. She was used to being extremely controversial in the Confederated Peoples but she really had no idea how she would be received in Ariddia. At least Ambassador Amanda Roh hadn’t made any official negative statements about her to the Ariddians. That, however, was arguably representative of her deepest cause for concern. Although they had some interests in common, the Confederated Peoples and Ariddia had traditionally had little interaction, sometimes participating in the same international event without anyone directly speaking, like ships passing in the night. Hunter, correspondingly, was much more worried about the possibility that the Ariddians might be indifferent than that they might be hostile.
Shaking her head, the woman looked away from the window and put her chair back, drifting off to sleep. When she woke up, the plane was coming in for a landing. Hunter straightened her chair and watched the airstrip below become larger and clearer until there was a small bump and the plane was taxiing along the runway.
When the plane had come to a complete stop, Hunter pulled her large handbag from under the seat and got up, waiting until the aisle was clear before stepping out. She was simply flying on an ordinary flight like any private citizen. She was, after all, not here in an official capacity. She was dressed normally, in a pair of blue jeans, a light black blouse and a pair of black leather boots with a 1” heel.
As Hunter stepped out into the airport, she looked around to see if anyone from the University of Rêvane, her first speaking engagement, had come to greet her at the gate. She didn’t look like a foreign political leader. She as too young, for one thing, and the Confederated Peoples did not share the reputation some countries had for elevating the inexperienced to political office. Her dress and bearing also hid her status well. She didn’t carry herself like she considered her presence anything out of the ordinary. Nonetheless, she was immediately recognizable to anyone who had seen her picture. She was a short woman of European descent who wore her brown hair in a short, tomboyish cut. She was overweight but not obese and her left maxillary lateral incisor was visibly crooked and somewhat discolored from a childhood problem which had never been fully corrected. She wore a pair of sunglasses in a black frame. Despite her rather colorful career and her paramilitary experience, there was still something strangely innocent, almost shy about her smile. And she was smiling now, nervously.
Right now, she was looking out the window of her plane and down to the ocean below. She found it strangely relaxing. The ocean seemed to stretch on forever, an impression which allowed her to forget her more immediate worries, at least for a time. She was, in fact, worried. She was used to being extremely controversial in the Confederated Peoples but she really had no idea how she would be received in Ariddia. At least Ambassador Amanda Roh hadn’t made any official negative statements about her to the Ariddians. That, however, was arguably representative of her deepest cause for concern. Although they had some interests in common, the Confederated Peoples and Ariddia had traditionally had little interaction, sometimes participating in the same international event without anyone directly speaking, like ships passing in the night. Hunter, correspondingly, was much more worried about the possibility that the Ariddians might be indifferent than that they might be hostile.
Shaking her head, the woman looked away from the window and put her chair back, drifting off to sleep. When she woke up, the plane was coming in for a landing. Hunter straightened her chair and watched the airstrip below become larger and clearer until there was a small bump and the plane was taxiing along the runway.
When the plane had come to a complete stop, Hunter pulled her large handbag from under the seat and got up, waiting until the aisle was clear before stepping out. She was simply flying on an ordinary flight like any private citizen. She was, after all, not here in an official capacity. She was dressed normally, in a pair of blue jeans, a light black blouse and a pair of black leather boots with a 1” heel.
As Hunter stepped out into the airport, she looked around to see if anyone from the University of Rêvane, her first speaking engagement, had come to greet her at the gate. She didn’t look like a foreign political leader. She as too young, for one thing, and the Confederated Peoples did not share the reputation some countries had for elevating the inexperienced to political office. Her dress and bearing also hid her status well. She didn’t carry herself like she considered her presence anything out of the ordinary. Nonetheless, she was immediately recognizable to anyone who had seen her picture. She was a short woman of European descent who wore her brown hair in a short, tomboyish cut. She was overweight but not obese and her left maxillary lateral incisor was visibly crooked and somewhat discolored from a childhood problem which had never been fully corrected. She wore a pair of sunglasses in a black frame. Despite her rather colorful career and her paramilitary experience, there was still something strangely innocent, almost shy about her smile. And she was smiling now, nervously.