NationStates Jolt Archive

[OOC: Members only. Interested in joining or partaking in the discussions? http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=402768&page=1&highlight=CCSN]

25th March 2005. The First Congress of the Coalition of Communist & Socialist Nations convenes in the Hrstrovokian capitol of Beograd in the heart of the Federal Socialist Republic. The representitives from nine states had gathered inside the Great Hall of the Workers, where the walls were covered with thick bronze reliefs depicting the triumphs and sacrifices of the Hrstrovokian people during the Revolution of 1984 that brought Communism to the helm in the Balkans. The building, styled in an Art Deco fashion of Granite and Steel, was a momument to the Hrstrovokian Proletariat.

Prime Minister Alexander Miroslav stode purposefully down the corridor. The Crimson Guard troops lining the walls saluted as he passed, the standard fist outstretched in the air. As Miroslav moved by, he could make out his reflection in the red visors covering the Soldiers faces and it reminded him of something, a dream perhaps? Images flashed across the minds eye and he felt scared. A vision of himself. Drowning in his own blood.

"Sir!" greeted the young Lieutenant of the Crimson Guard, an M16A2 rifle, a relic of times past, slung across his broad shoulders. Miroslav was caught momentarily off-guard by the man, and his eyes centered on the weapon. Weapons were a common theme of life in Hrstrovokia, part of the background, as common as muck and everywhere you looked. It pained him inside, for he longed for a world without violence, a world of peace, a hope constantly denied. In the years after the Revolution, Hrstrovokia had stood alone against an onslaught of invasions, of death and destruction raining from the air, brought on by the warplanes of NATO [RL NATO, not the NS alliance] attempting to wipe out the first Communist state to be declared since the fall of the Berlin Wall, the collapse of the Soviet Union and the end of the Iron Curtain. Miroslav remebered as a private of the Hrstrovokian Army the bitter fights, the endless suffering of his people, the blackened and smoldering ruins of their cities, the loved ones lost, the desecrated landscape, the feeling of barely hanging on to whatever it was left that you had got, which wasnt much.

But Hrstrovokia had stood its ground just as Israel had done against the Arab forces. Both were considered guilty of a intolerable crime by their enemies. They existed. Except Hrstrovokia had no support. China, then concerned with a conversion from a planned to semi-private economy would not risk discontent with the west by aiding her. Castro was dead after the invasion of Cuba in 1992 by the forces of the United States. Russia sent its vocal condemnation. Any move on the part of the UN was vetoed again and again by NATO forces, who urgently desired to crush the Bolshevik in the Balkans before it could spread.

Alone was something Miroslav did not want Hrstrovokia to be. Alone it might stand, for awhile, but inevitably its enemies would pile against her, for there could be no co-existence. As Miroslav argued during the course of the conflict, it was either us or them. The Coalition presented an excellent oppurtunity - strength in numbers while also fighting for the interests of the proletariat across the Multi-verse. Previous alliances of the Left had always lacked something, a cohesiveness, a true purpose. Miroslav was determined that this time, an organisation that would stand the test of time would be born this day.

As he continued escorted by the Lieutenant towards the Great Hall, Miroslav began reciting his opening speech out-loud, to the suprise of the Lieutenant who felt somewhat awkward. The doors were cast open before the Premier to the applause of those present and the flash of cameras. The Lieutenant dropped subtly behind Miroslav but retained a presence. The Hall was packed with Diplomats, Reporters, Government Officials and Soldiers, who cheered their leader wildly. Alexander continued to the podium. A silence fell over the Hall.

"Comrades! What do we, the signatories to this brave new organisation, hope to achieve by banding together? That is the burning question. What can be achieved by our unity? Much Comrades, much. Some people in the West believe that there is no longer a need for Socialism, that they have plenty, they are free. Well, I guess as long as your comfortable it feels like freedom. But Comrades, Socialism is needed now more than ever. The level of exploitation of the people since Marx and Engels published the Communist Manifesto is 200 fold, no, 300 fold. Capitalism has brought nothing but misery to billions worldwide, nothing but a life of slavery and drugdery.

That is a crime. It is a crime against Humanity, to crush the human spirit, to enslave it and rob it of its endless possibilities and its indeafesible right to happiness. Comrades, the first reason this alliance needs to exist is to fight for the workers, regardles of nationality, of religion, of any of that muck of ages, the meaningless baggage we shoulder as we pass through the ages, which really truly does not matter. We must always fight for the rights of the Proletariat, always have their interests at heart.

I now come to another point. How are we to represent the rights of the Workers? How best can it be achieved? Through War? The destruction of the Capitalist system? Then this brings us to another topic in Socialism. Co-existence. Can we really co-exist with Capitalism, we the Socialist, and for those who have advanced, the Communist states? I do not believe we can, for while we exist, we are a constant source of inspiration to the Workers to strive for more, and that invokes fear in the cold hearts of the exploiters. We are the exact opposite, on completely different ends of the spectrum. There can be no peace, only a matter of time. Til then, when we can finally effect a World revolution, we shall wait and co-exist."

---------------

[List of those present at the First Congress :
The Federal Republic of Hrstrovokia, represented by Alexander Miroslav.
The Dominion of Socialist Prussians, represented by Karl Jur.
The Federated Worker's State of Hallad, represented by Talal Ghazi.
The United Socialist States of Novikov, represented by Ivan Droshky.
The Free People of Communist Brazil, represented by Slavoj Zizek, and in an advisory position, Murray Bookchin.
The Soviet Socialist Union of Hogsweat, represented by Major Castra Kunikov.
The People's Republic of Cheeser12, represented by Allan Petrik.
The Exploitated Nation Freedom Exterminated, represented by Raekwon Kenai.
The MassPwnage of MassPwnage, represented by Gerald Redham.]

[OOC: The Free People of Communist Brazil, looking over posting at the official forum, wish to attend, being represented by Slavoj Zizek, and in an advisory position, Murray Bookchin. When this is recognized, we will reply.]

ooc: I believe I'm a member.
I'll be sending a representative.

[OOC: Communist Brazil, your association with the CCSN is recognised and your representitives have been noted. MassPwnage, who is representing you?]

ooc: Hmm... Gerald Redham, MassPwnage diplomatic corps.

[OOC: Acknowledged. Feel free to add some comments, you'd seem wierd if you sat there all day and said nothing.]

Gerald smiled. Then he spoke in his MPHK (MassPwnage Hong Kong) British accent.

"Oh, of course we can co-exist with capitalists, MassPwnage makes it a point to rip them off when necessary."

Slavoj nodded through it taking it to heart. He rather enjoyed some of these speeches. He was seemingly younger than he really was, but his tired eyes and curly beard showed signs of his matured nature. As the speech began to wind, with more Marxist talk than substance, he turned towards the very elderly Bookchin, who had crossed his arms and looked generally moody. Zizek quietly whispered in Bookchin's ear.

"The class line rhetoric, I guess would be your reaction, Murray..."

"It is rhetoric. What do you want?"

"It is an open ended question.."

"Damnit, I'm not going to hold your hand boy. Your the talker around here. Get the hell up there."

Slavoj, smiled that he poked Murray's buttons and slowly waited for the speaker to end, and then slowly rose, coming to the designated point for him to speak.

"As I address this Congress today, we are presented with the never ending question that has always made the movement seem so far out of reach. The party line, the class line, the path we led. Since the days of ComIntern, and then ComInform after it, there has been attempts to organize the movement into a single unified force. Unfortunately, instead of broadening horizons, we try to funnel it to a point and small spectrum to fit one's own vision, because one is offended by another's vision.

While over the course of this Congress, we will address this issue, I would like to make a short interpretation and commentary on my comrade and colleague here on his opening speech.

First, I will point to his first passage."

"Comrades! What do we, the signatories to this brave new organisation, hope to achieve by banding together? That is the burning question. What can be achieved by our unity? Much Comrades, much. Some people in the West believe that there is no longer a need for Socialism, that they have plenty, they are free. Well, I guess as long as your comfortable it feels like freedom. But Comrades, Socialism is needed now more than ever. The level of exploitation of the people since Marx and Engels published the Communist Manifesto is 200 fold, no, 300 fold. Capitalism has brought nothing but misery to billions worldwide, nothing but a life of slavery and drugdery.

"What my collegue and comrade here is pointing out, is one of the points I would like to make about Marxist-centrism. We try to look at the world from our own little sphere of thought, but we must also remember that Karl Marx did not create the sphere of thought we know as Marxism, but was the inspiration. The intention of Friedrich Engels, Karl Marx, and their colleagues was not to create the party line. They were the bourgeois they so reviled. They knew that the revolution was out of touch in their time. They did not live the revolutionary life they touted. This brings out not a reason to denounce Marxism, but a reason to understand it.

THe itnention was not a dogma or ideology, but a critique of capitalism, and an ideal, a set of tools if you will, to be used. The shape of a society cannot be completely based from the works of Karl Marx. There have been attempts to construct this society. The most prolific examples were that of Vladimir Lenin and Mao Tse-Tung. But as we have seen, empirically the Marxist-Leninist models have failed because of the issue of democratic centralism. I will address this later in the Congress, as it is a complex issue in and out of itself.

The point is, we are not Marxist. We are the Left, we are the Revolutionaries, and we have access to the tools of dialectics that were set by Hegel and refined by Marx. We have access to the tools of historical materialism. We are not Marxist, and we must remember that this was the intention, and if we lose ourselves to this sphere of thought, we lose the mandate of the people.

Next, we look to the second passage."

That is a crime. It is a crime against Humanity, to crush the human spirit, to enslave it and rob it of its endless possibilities and its indeafesible right to happiness. Comrades, the first reason this alliance needs to exist is to fight for the workers, regardles of nationality, of religion, of any of that muck of ages, the meaningless baggage we shoulder as we pass through the ages, which really truly does not matter. We must always fight for the rights of the Proletariat, always have their interests at heart.

"I will not reiterate my previous statements, but there is one point I would like to make.

It is not just the liberation of the worker, the proletariat. We must remember that Karl Marx made his observations at the tip of the Industrial Revolution. We are entering a new technological revolution, the Information Revolution. We must understand that we must adapt to the changes of time. As my colleague pointed out, the oppression has increased, despite the attempts to block revolutionary method.

But we must alwasy remember that revolution is not static but by nature ever-changing. We must not subscribe to dogma.

Finally, I will address his third point."

I now come to another point. How are we to represent the rights of the Workers? How best can it be achieved? Through War? The destruction of the Capitalist system? Then this brings us to another topic in Socialism. Co-existence. Can we really co-exist with Capitalism, we the Socialist, and for those who have advanced, the Communist states? I do not believe we can, for while we exist, we are a constant source of inspiration to the Workers to strive for more, and that invokes fear in the cold hearts of the exploiters. We are the exact opposite, on completely different ends of the spectrum. There can be no peace, only a matter of time. Til then, when we can finally effect a World revolution, we shall wait and co-exist."

"I was waiting to do this, but I do not want to monopolize the precious time we have here. I will step down and comment on this later, after other delegate voice their own concerns. Thank you."

He stepped down and slowly made back to his desk and whispered something to Murray, who just shook his head.

Gerald smiled. Then he spoke in his MPHK (MassPwnage Hong Kong) British accent.

"Oh, of course we can co-exist with capitalists, MassPwnage makes it a point to rip them off when necessary."
Murray quickly retorted with his ancient, deliciously dripping with sarcasm, voice.

"While I am certain you must make a great living off of your Robin Hood esque methods, there is a much better place to broker the same tools used to oppress the poor. Proliferation and glorification of these methods leads to, that's right, more use, which leads to more oppression."

Alexander briefly turned away from the audience as he suppressed the rage almost boiling to the brim inside. He had not liked what Slavoj said, but he counted to 10. Then 50. He was old enough to deal with the brash, aggressive side of his nature now, for enough mistakes had been made to teach him this. Arguing with Slavoj wouldnt achieve anything.

"Comrade Slavoj, if I may take the podium?" Miroslav said in a soft voice and calm manner as he approached. "Comrade Slavoj has made some excellent points, and ones, which upon reflection, I must agree with. We cannot take Marx and copy him word for word, blindly following what we mistake to be an idealogy, a design for life. As Marx once said, if I may quote him and allow for 21st century adaptions - "The World is Shit. The point, however, is to change it." Marx always avoided giving a definition of Communism, I believe he was firmly against giving definitions of any kind, against handing anyone out a simply recipe to follow."

"No one idea can solve every problem on Earth. I know this to my own detriment. While Socialism has proved successful for Hrstrovokia, it is only so because of how things happened here, how the Revolution progressed. That Revolution has never truly ceased, it constantly evolves, for we are always in a constant state of motion, of perfecting what we have, and the eventual ultimate transition to a Communist state."

"Were it not for Comrade Slavoj of the Free Peoples of Communist Brazil, our vision would be lessened. The Coalition must not be narrowed to a particular focus or goal, its members not scrutinized for their own idealogy. It must be open, inclusive and encompassing, so that every can bring something to the table. Perhaps that is the best that can come from the CCSN - the bringing together of like-minded peoples to discuss how best to achieve their own goals by working together."

"Co-operation is the way forward. Co-operation and open dialogue. We must educate ourselves once more. Comrades, I ask you to take this stage now, and to tell us, how your land operates, what your politics are, how this came to be."

Slavoj watched as Miroslav finished and smoke softly, almost as a disclaimer.

"I am heartened by my colleagues words. I am sorry about my own brashness on stage, if that was projected. It was not meant as a criticism of Comrade Miroslav. Rather, it was a moment when I lost myself. I was trying to share a certain point about experiences that have been had with such organizations as COMINTERN and COMINFORM. I was also projecting the sometimes confrontational views of my colleague and advisor, Comrade Bookchin, who is often critical of the concept of Marxism. It may not be tradition in all circles, but I was not only speaking for myself, but also for Murray."

He continued writing a few notes, rubbing his eyes a bit.

ooc: I would assume that diplomatic immunity allows for the drugs stuff without being, well, noticed, yes?

Hrstrovokia

Raekwon Kenai found the overall atmosphere... Familiar. Sure, there didn't seem to be a civil war going on, but still... Guns everywhere. Of course, he, personally, didn't have one. After all, he was a diplomat, not a soldiers, and the one time he had tried to fire a pistol, back during the last days of the old regime, when he was among those storming the palace, he had forgotten to unlock it.

But firing guns wasn't his job. He fought with words, not bullets.

Incidentally, this wasn't so bad, as it allowed for a lot of different activities. He turned his head, looking at his secretary, a young 'woman', she was perhaps... Sixteen years old (Of course he claimed her to be nineteen), and still rather tired... She was less used to heroin than he was.

Oh, right, I will have to get ready... He thought, caressing her young, tender breasts. He watched the equipent he had brought with him, eventually finding what he needed. "Damnit, she could have stayed in that position for a few more minutes." Another curse, and then he prepared the table for the line he needed to stay awake.

Good stuff. He thought, once he was finished. "Now for the politics."

Conference Hall

Well, the speech wasn't so bad... A bit optimistic, lacking a little bit of substance, but ok. He chuckled a little as he listened to Gerald Redham's 'comment' while nodding into the general direction of Murray.

"I sincerely hope that the honoured delegate from MassPwnage is not confusing this conference with a schoolyard. Personally, I would like to try and stay serious."

Raekwon hesitated, for a moment, concentrating on something... Right. I should have eaten something before entering... Oh well. "In any case, with regards to co-existence... While there is no doubt that the world will once join our paradise, a paradise of the workers under god..." Here, he played with the cross that was hanging on his lecklace. "We should not be hasty. The nations out there, nations that oppress the masses, masses who are screaming for their freedom, have resources. As the past has proven, wars of aggression, no matter how good the intentions are, and there is no doubt that ur intentions are the best ones, tend to weaken our position, as the masses, the proletariat, dulled by the sweet words, the propaganda and lies of their oppressors, the bourgeoisie, will consider us the enemy. We would fight the very people we intend to liberate.

"Besides, war would just help to destroy our resources. Our economies are growing. Not weakened by the inherent weaknesses of the capitalist system, their constant recessions, their 'Black Fridays', we will grow faster. Sooner or later, we will control their means of production, peacefully.

"Sooner or later, we will control them."

For a moment he laughed, seemingly enjoyig this option. "Of course, a revolution can only come through bloodshed. We should not, and cannot hesitate in helping those people who are far enough, those nations where the proletariat is rising to smash its oppressors. In such a case, we will have to act, although I will freely admit that our own, that is, Freedom Exterminated's resources, are somewhat lacking, but we hope to change this in the near future, not the least with the help of this, our glorious alliance.

"Furthermore, a war of words has to be fought. We must step in, destroy the capitalist, the fascist lies, prove the world, prove the people just how they have been deceived, so that they may finally learn the truth. The revolution comes in many ways, comrades. And we cannot afford to use but one of them."

Again hesitation as the shot he gave himself before leaving the hotel seems to lose its effectiveness.

"Aside from that, there would be one more question. As important as the final revolution is, I would like to turn the focus onto something smaller... That is, the CCSN itself. Our structures, our organisation, our... Charter, which has yet to be written, and, last but not least, mutual... Assistance, as I'm sure that we will help each other just as we will help the rest of the world."

OOC: i'm in Liverpool with family for easter [go figure. Liverpool.. yawn.] So I won't be able to reply here until Tuesday - maybe i can persuade mum to leave on Monday, but most likely ill be back Tuesday. Sorry guys.

Miroslav refrained from making any obvious comments about Raekwon Kenai's appearance, but it was clear he was on something. It was the way he moved, as if he were in a dream, taking steps with the utmost certainty lest he lose his way and be lost forever in the distance between the podium and his chair.

"Probably painkillers" Miroslav thought, trying not be harshly judgemental.

[OOC: Yes, that is a tiny post, but its late, so I dont i should atleast add something to show im still interested, more tomorrow.]

"Friends." Droshky began, standing at the rear of speech hall, making no effort to approach the podium. In his charcoal suit and European greased-back hair he did not cut an intimidating figure, looking more bourgeois than those around him. “Forgive me; my parliament is not so – so red as this. I have taken to calling you friends. What I mean is Comrades.”

He paused, a heavy silence holding the air of the hall captive. His min was racing.

‘Damn it Ivan, stop babbling. You must present your cause. Silence now.’ He clasped his hands tightly together, bowed his head, and inhaled deeply before continuing.

“Comrades, as I see things, one question has been posed that must be answered. Gospodin Miroslav has asked how best the rights of the workers can be achieved. This is the paramount question of this conference. How do we, a communist congress, affect the world revolution? First, let me tell you of my home country.”

Feeling more confident, Droshky began towards the podium but halted halfway, all the while continuing with his speech.

“Novikov is Socialist - socialist and democratic. I can effect change there, but I cannot remove the bourgeois from their power. Does this ail me? No. I must concur with Comrade Slavoj. Communism, Marxism, our entire philosophy is simply that; philosophy. As such, we must be willing to accept Marxism’s implementation of a purely philosophical level.”

Another pause. His accent, heavy and guttural is his native Slavic, was posing a problem. And either way, his English was bad. He motioned for his companion, dressed similarly in a black, mildly stripped suit, to come forward.

“Perhaps I can speak better in my own language. This is my translator, Yevegenovich.”

The transition to Slavic was simple enough.

“What I mean to say is that it is a fool’s error to enforce Communism, to pressure through revolution – revolution supported by foreign powers – is a rejection of the proletariats’ power. Change must be made entirely within the framework of the oppressed society. Our only role would be to hasten the spread of Marx’s ideas. We cannot bring about a change prematurely, lest rejection occur. We must be content to allow our ideals to spread.

This must be our application to the Information Revolution, as Gospodin Slavoj has amply pointed out. The lessons of the industrial revolution have shown Capitalism to be far more formidable than once anticipated. The world revolution must be won, but we cannot win it by force of arms; Stalin proved that. Rather, we must win the battle for people’s hearts and minds. That is a more admirable and attainable goal. We have pure ideas. Why not use them more than weapons?”

Alexander Miroslav rose solemnly from his seat and spoke.

"Comrade Droshky has it in a nutshell. We are all aware of the superiority of the Marxist...no, Leftist system, over Capitalism. That is why they fear us. Because inside they know, that this side of the fence, our side, the grass is greener, the air fresher, the reality radiant with happiness. Our ideas and philosophies, our political and socio-economic systems all hold more freedom, more liberty, more truth and equality than the chaos, brutal oppression and rampant greed that is Capitalism."

"As I have said in my opening statement, as long as your comfortable, it feels like freedom. It is useless to effect a revolution for the Proletariat without their association, leaving them out of the equation is abandoning the very essence of what I have come to believe in. It must be a revolution for the people, by the people. We would become the oppressors. I hold steadfast by my belief that there can be no co-existence, but it would be counter-productive to launch a war which would result in the total destruction of everything we are trying to achieve. We must re-ignite the revolutionary flame of the people, replace apathy and ignorance with hope and knowledge. And we cannot simply focus on the Proletariat brethern, for they are not the only ones who suffer, as long as Capitalism exists, all within its grasp are exploited. We must remeber that."

"If we are to turn the tide in this conflict, to stop the spread of the late 20th century and early 21st century phenomenon of Imperial Mercantilism disguised as Globalisation and garnished with deciteful praise, then we must show the terrible effects of this system - the poverty and waste it causes, that it must cause, that it thrives on. We must be the beacon of light in the midnight hour of the Human civilisation."

Finished, he surveyed the Hall briefly for an assessment of his impact and then sat down.

[ooc: Is it to late for me to join? If not i would like to send a member.]

[OOC: Not at all CommunisticTurkeys, feel free to send a representitive!]

At the Conference

Raekwon shuddered briefly. It felt... Cold... He wasn't quite sure why, the cocain was supposed to work for a bit longer... Well, he would have to see. Still, it wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling.

And then, there was, of course, this other thing.

"I hate to interrupt, but... Frankly, this things have been discussed literally thousands of times, on hundreds of conferences throughout history. With regards to such universal truth, we have all the time in the world to organise it.

"However, what is relevant now is the CCSN itself. I might note the lack of a binding charter, the rather young contacts between our various members that have to be increased in both, quality and quantity. Internal problems a good number of our members have, problems with which this alliance should deal to ensure prosperity and strength for all. This are the things that should interest us, not the castles in the air, dreams of a certain, but still distant, socialist, and even communist, world.

"Last I checked, it is preferable to do the first step first, then the second. Otherwise, you might trip over."

Back in the Hotel

The girl, Ayo (Joy), was awakening, slowly, still tired.

He's gone. Awww. She sighed, softly, naked as she was. Not that it mattered, nobody could see her, anyway.

Now, where is it, ah... There. She smiled as she searched the bag, quickly finding what she needed. I'm so tired... I need more.

Preparing it proved to be quite a bit of a pain, though, as she wasn't exactly in a state that allowed her to do it effectively. As such, she took her time, but eventually, she succeeded.

Welcome to dreamland.

She didn't know that she wouldn't leave 'Dreamland'. Not this time...

Hrstrovokian Airport

Serena Hazika left the plane, smiling brightly. Not because she wanted to, of course, but because she had to, being the 'tourist' she was. It was a pain, just like her heels. She really wasn't used to them.

She was unarmed, naturally. No point in risking something if Hrstrovokia (The original target had been Hogsweat, but intelligence had been lacking, so they had to change a few things in the original plan. Like, the very nation she was going to operate in) was as gun-friendly as she had heard it was. She would organise something.

If she actually needed it, that is. After all, being subtle was a virtue, and guns tended not to be all that subtle.

Incidentally, Hrstrovokia proved to be quite amazing to her, who was only used to jungle and mountains. Sure, the militarisation was quite comparable to the militarisation in her own nation, but still... So advanced... So peaceful... She envied this people, although she was certain that they wouldn't mind a bit more freedom.

Now she would have to learn more, before going into action. And she had plenty of time to do it.

Disheartened by the prospect of returning to boring, impassionate work like drafting a charter, Miroslav relunctently consented with a nod in Raekwon's direction. "I still feel we should all come to some sort of an agreement about what this organisation is about and what can be achieved, but how and however.." said the Premier. "But we've talked enough, and look where its got us. Time for tea." he sighed.

The Hall stirred to life as the diplomats rose from their seats and the journalists and reporters withdrew to summarise the mornings events and report back to their editors and stations. Only the troops remained, who relaxed slightly, letting their rifles rest on the ground and some going outside for fresh air and a smoke.

Hotel Beograd

Hitrax Rezzake was as still as stone and just as cold as he sat before the flickering light of the monitor. Rezzake, a 25-year old surveillence expert of the Bureau of Intelligence & State Security assigned to watch and track the daily movements of Freedom Exterminated's Kenai was frozen over with a sense of dread, of being unable to act despite dire events unfolding before him.

The monitor showed, like some spider positioned in the corner of a room, a young woman sprawled on the floor twitching violently. Rezzake had watch the young woman, identified as an assistant to Mr. Kenai, but in reality closer to his mistress, cook up heroine on a spoon and then, after tightening a belt across her elbow, inject herself. That was 20 minutes ago. Her reaction had been horrifying. She began vomiting, then, obviously drained of energy, had slump across the bed before collapsing with exhaustion. Any moment she might choke on her own sick.
Officially, Rezzake could do nothing, because officially, Rezzake wasnt even there. The spy cameras he had positioned a week before in the room werent there. The microphones embedded in the ceiling werent there. The infrared scanner hiding in the wall wasnt there. The metal detector hanging in the door-frame wasnt there. Alerting someone to help the young girl, who Rezzake had affectionately nicknamed "Sleepy", would compromise national security and probably errupt in a scandal, which would see Rezzake working the rest of his life in the work camps in the Dinarc alps, which, by coincedence, werent there. So he sat and waited and watched. Thats all he could do.

ooc: Hrm. Thought someone else would want to reply. Oh well.

ic:

At the Conference

Raekwon sighed, standing up. Well, it's a start. He pondered some more private discussions with the other delegates, but first... Well. Getting into a somewhat less crowded area, he got out his cellphone, spend a few minutes trying to remember the number with which he was supposed to reach Ayo, and, after eventually (Finally) remembering it, dialed it, showing a big, almost childish smile, anticipating the beautiful voice he would soon hear. Sure, he was more or less using Ayo, but still... He loved her, or at least he thought he did, and hearing her voice would cheer him up.

Nobody replied.

He tried again, and again, and again. Still nothing. "Fucking b-" itch must have taken another dose. It's my money, my stuff, for gods sake. She has something coming, this evening. For... Oh, whatever.

He sighed, eventually getting a much needed high percentage drink at the nearest available bar, cursing and contemplating the coming evening, namely, how exactly he would teach the 'girl' how not to waste his time and 'medicaments'. He loved her, but this didn't mean that she could do whatever she wanted.

Which reminded him that there was something else he had to do. He wasn't sure if or when someone important would start talking to him, so he simply started scribbling down some notes.

Communism and Religion. Faith. Internal Proceedings and Organisation. Mutual benefits, Militarily and Economically. Whor- No, wait, that's a private thing.

Keeping his notes in one of his pockets, he whistled, eventually joining the crowds, again, while avoiding the journalists as good as he could.

Hotel Beograd

The body was twisting, but the initial, rapid period had stopped. Ayo was dying, slowly. Incidentally, by now, most of her senses were already malfunctioning, this making this particular period comparatively painless, given what she had suffered from just a few minutes earlier.

She was lying on the ground, naked, broken, her eyes wide open, in shock, looking absently at the leaves of a blossoming plant nearby, it's colourful blossoms contradicting the pain and tragedy of the situation, adding a bit of beauty nobody could see... Except, perhaps, the victim, whose eyes were dying, despite being opened, her pupils wide, their blackness symbolising an entire universe of misery.

Oddly enough, despite her beauty, despite her uncovered, eboy skin revealing her in her entirety, the view wasn't even remotely erotic.

Nonetheless, it would be burned into the memories of everyone seeing her, like that. Not as a thing of beauty, but as a horror, a quick, sketchy look at what was the darker side of the world.

Somewhere in Hrstrovokia

"Thanks." Serena smiled at the barkeeper as she took her drink, waiting. It was one of Hrstrovokia's seedier establishments, and given her (Reasonably cheap, but surprisingly classy-looking) outfit, she didn't actually fit into it. Yet she was here, and for a reason.

The information available to her was... Sketchy at best. She didn't know many names, nor did she know many places. Yet, to get where she wanted, what she wanted, she needed some contact. Someone who would support her.

And she supposed that Hrstrovokia wasn't entirely without opposition.

Of course, the risky part was where she had to reveal a little, in order to even be noticed. She just hoped that the internal security wasn't as omnipotent as it seemed to be. She would have to hope that her intuition was correct. After all, if she managed to operate freely in Nimunde, only a kilometer or two away from the Presidential Palace, this should be possible, too.

The problem in the equation being that said 'operation' had consisted of getting onto an airplane to fly to Hrstrovokia, which meant that the two situations weren't comparable at all. And her drink was supposed to make her forget about this little detail.

She sighed, not even looking at the man standing next to her, tapping her left shoulder.

"No, I'm not available for a night. And no, I can pay for my drink myself. Thanks, and goodbye."