The Candrian Empire
29-11-2005, 04:10
"Enjoying dinner?"
Calros Petron's eyes shifted from left to right. It was a standard Candrian dinner. Some beef, rice, a little salad. Side dishes of seasoned mashed potatoes & some fried plantains, and a glass of lemonade. The only difference here was the dinnerware - Petron was the Emperor here, and first among equals. Of course his would be differnt. The shimmering gold plate reflected amber waves unto his round chin, now aged despite only 5 years in office and the young age of thirty-eight. He was, when elected, the youngest in-family Emperor to be selected amongst the contenders after Emperor Candiro II's failing health showed.
But it wasn't showing anymore. Despite the generally laidback nature of the populace of the Empire, being the leader of 800 million souls takes it's toll on a man. His hair, once a vibrant brown, has since dulled. His once muslcular form beginning to atrophy. His administrative duties, however, held tight, even when his pants began to loosen with his loss of weight. But he wasn't concerned with that right now. Right now... he wanted to eat. He had ruled over the most prosperous age of the Empire, and he wasn't going to let some little thing like his own personal health get in the way.
"This beef... tastes kinda funny. I can't put my finger on it. Belusith, did you change your recipie?"
"No, my lord. I make it the same way every time you ask for it. It's just..."
"Just what?"
"It... the furnace didn't keep up at full burn the entire time, I had to adjust the... the heating and time and such. I hope you don't mind, sir. It may be a slight bit raw."
"Ah, it's all right. A little raw meat won't kill you. Honey, how's your dinner?"
"Oh, it's fine."
"Jenny, that... that PTA thing. What was going on there? I heard someting about some kid in elementary school swingin' out a whole truckload of racism into his class?"
"Umm, yeah. They were trying to agree on some way to disipline students fairly for that kinda stuff.:
Jennifer Caesi Petron. Her purple dress fought for reflection with the gold-laced plate - looking at her was like looking at the sun. Her figure hid her age well; at 35 she could pass for a decade younger.
"Did that Dr. Oyleus go on any more of his ramblings about - "
CLAOGUH!
Petron's large hand went right to his chest.
"...Excuse me."
"You alright dear?"
"It was just a cough. I'll be fine."
This man was the model of health... he only spent time at the hospital when he was born and when his children were born. He never coughed like that.
Calros Petron's eyes shifted from left to right. It was a standard Candrian dinner. Some beef, rice, a little salad. Side dishes of seasoned mashed potatoes & some fried plantains, and a glass of lemonade. The only difference here was the dinnerware - Petron was the Emperor here, and first among equals. Of course his would be differnt. The shimmering gold plate reflected amber waves unto his round chin, now aged despite only 5 years in office and the young age of thirty-eight. He was, when elected, the youngest in-family Emperor to be selected amongst the contenders after Emperor Candiro II's failing health showed.
But it wasn't showing anymore. Despite the generally laidback nature of the populace of the Empire, being the leader of 800 million souls takes it's toll on a man. His hair, once a vibrant brown, has since dulled. His once muslcular form beginning to atrophy. His administrative duties, however, held tight, even when his pants began to loosen with his loss of weight. But he wasn't concerned with that right now. Right now... he wanted to eat. He had ruled over the most prosperous age of the Empire, and he wasn't going to let some little thing like his own personal health get in the way.
"This beef... tastes kinda funny. I can't put my finger on it. Belusith, did you change your recipie?"
"No, my lord. I make it the same way every time you ask for it. It's just..."
"Just what?"
"It... the furnace didn't keep up at full burn the entire time, I had to adjust the... the heating and time and such. I hope you don't mind, sir. It may be a slight bit raw."
"Ah, it's all right. A little raw meat won't kill you. Honey, how's your dinner?"
"Oh, it's fine."
"Jenny, that... that PTA thing. What was going on there? I heard someting about some kid in elementary school swingin' out a whole truckload of racism into his class?"
"Umm, yeah. They were trying to agree on some way to disipline students fairly for that kinda stuff.:
Jennifer Caesi Petron. Her purple dress fought for reflection with the gold-laced plate - looking at her was like looking at the sun. Her figure hid her age well; at 35 she could pass for a decade younger.
"Did that Dr. Oyleus go on any more of his ramblings about - "
CLAOGUH!
Petron's large hand went right to his chest.
"...Excuse me."
"You alright dear?"
"It was just a cough. I'll be fine."
This man was the model of health... he only spent time at the hospital when he was born and when his children were born. He never coughed like that.