Napoleonic Empire
11-09-2005, 23:17
[OOC: While this will be a mostly informational RP, I would be welcoming any involvement in the grand scheme of the Castellan in bringing the Empire back to its glory. This is a continuation from previous RPs, which left the Empire without his homeland in Europe, receding to the vassal states of Quebec, Louisiana, and Hispaniola. Which means, any involvement with the Napoleonic Empire in the reconstruction process should be handled here.]
Quitely, the last piece of the puzzle was placed. The burdened eyes smiled themselves without the thin lips moving. Nikolas was always amused by these third-dimensional puzzles. They were remarkable to him, with such precision required to build it. Sighing, he leaned back, sipping the bitter drink, and quivering, placing it on the table. He sighed and looked to the grand clock that stood to the side. It was hard to wait.
He stood up, scratching his chin as he walked across the hardwood floor, coming into the salon across from the lounge, and came to a table. Looking upon it, he scratched the side of his cheek. Quickly, he felt the vibration immediately, and took out the device. He got the message. It was to begin. Immediately. Nodding to himself, he put the device away, and picked up the phone from the wall, dialing furiously. He waited, until he got the voice at the other end, whom responded in annoyed French. He smiled.
"Qui aidera le fils de la veuve?
There was a long pause, before the voice returned
"La confrérie, Castillan. La confrérie."
____________________________
Louis stood over the bow of the small yacht as it hung at the shore. Leafing through the papers, he looked the messy blonde behind him, grinning widely. It was too much. So great. It was his opportunity.
"Is this to say, that I have access to... Everything?" He said, in almost disbelief. The young Admiral smiled. "Yes, Généralités. And you have the support of all the knighthoods, even the Gray Knights. And you of course, have support from the Navy." Louis looked back to the island. "What about the old Brazilian projects? That man, Artur Cavalcanti, we are sheltering him in Hispaniola." The admiral nodded. "The Freemen are on our side, at least, some of them. Its in your grasp Louis. You only need to take it. We need a iron fist. Not a velvet glove." There was a silence, and Louis turned to look at his friend. "My dear Jacques, it takes both, to take the mandate." He grinned. It was all falling into place.
Quitely, the last piece of the puzzle was placed. The burdened eyes smiled themselves without the thin lips moving. Nikolas was always amused by these third-dimensional puzzles. They were remarkable to him, with such precision required to build it. Sighing, he leaned back, sipping the bitter drink, and quivering, placing it on the table. He sighed and looked to the grand clock that stood to the side. It was hard to wait.
He stood up, scratching his chin as he walked across the hardwood floor, coming into the salon across from the lounge, and came to a table. Looking upon it, he scratched the side of his cheek. Quickly, he felt the vibration immediately, and took out the device. He got the message. It was to begin. Immediately. Nodding to himself, he put the device away, and picked up the phone from the wall, dialing furiously. He waited, until he got the voice at the other end, whom responded in annoyed French. He smiled.
"Qui aidera le fils de la veuve?
There was a long pause, before the voice returned
"La confrérie, Castillan. La confrérie."
____________________________
Louis stood over the bow of the small yacht as it hung at the shore. Leafing through the papers, he looked the messy blonde behind him, grinning widely. It was too much. So great. It was his opportunity.
"Is this to say, that I have access to... Everything?" He said, in almost disbelief. The young Admiral smiled. "Yes, Généralités. And you have the support of all the knighthoods, even the Gray Knights. And you of course, have support from the Navy." Louis looked back to the island. "What about the old Brazilian projects? That man, Artur Cavalcanti, we are sheltering him in Hispaniola." The admiral nodded. "The Freemen are on our side, at least, some of them. Its in your grasp Louis. You only need to take it. We need a iron fist. Not a velvet glove." There was a silence, and Louis turned to look at his friend. "My dear Jacques, it takes both, to take the mandate." He grinned. It was all falling into place.