NationStates Jolt Archive

*Evening sets on an usually warm night for the Uncouth Youth region. The ornate, baroque-styled town hall seems too small for all the limos pulling up to its curb, but tonight the hall is serving more than just PTA meetings - it was the only neutral location available on such short notice. Rotund bikers and wirey punk rockers form the Petrakai Proskulian security team, who eye the delgates impassively while smoking outside. Inside is the great hall, operatic in style and scale, there is a long table with small national flags designating the seating. At the far end is the president of Petrakai Proskulio: Zoltair Wright. He's shaved his hair down to stubble for this occasion, and wears a 19th century cavalry jacket over a stained Minor Threat t-shirt, torn camoflague pants, and black combat boots. Mirrored aviator glasses shield his eyes. He rises to greet you as you enter.*

*grinning* Gentlemen, I'm so glad you could attend. Make yourselves comfortable. Are you settled? Good. Now what's all this war business?