NationStates Jolt Archive

Prime Minister Anastasia Malenosko of the United Russian Principalities sat back in her office and sighed. She looked through the window of the Novgorod City Kremlin at the massive bulk of Nevsky Dvorets, the residence of the ruling Grand Prince. 200 rooms, an army of servants, and the largest kitchens in the nation.

And it had been empty for 5 months, since Knyaz Velikiy Adrian Tyralin had died in the heat of summer. It had been an amazingly tense time for the government, with the various Knyazi from the 10 states jockeying for support amongst each other to take his place.

'In other countries, they have monarchs from the same family, one after the other after another. None of this "every time the Grand Prince dies we almost have a civil war" business. She glanced at her boiling samovar, then went and readied her tea. "Still, the ball must go on."

There was a knock at her door. Flicking back her blonde hair, Anastasia looked up from her drink. "Come in." There was the sound of cloth rustling. She looked up, then frowned. "Oh. It's you. What do you want?" Remembering herself, she added a hasty, "My lord."

The tall man bowed slightly. "Prime Minister, I understand that you are intending to hold the ball in the Palace of Nevsky even though the Grand Prince is dead?" He smoothed back his brown hair and shook himself. "I would advise that you instead hold the ball at my palace in Tver'." Prince Anatoliy Nikitin placed his hand on her desk. "After all, I am going to be the next Grand Prince, my dear."

Anastasia slapped his hand away. "I'm not 'your dear', and that hasn't been decided yet. We are going to keep the Winter Ball in the capital as we have done for the past 255 years." She took a deep breath to calm herself. "The other princes have already arrived for the election on New Years. I'm not moving everything to Tver'. I'm sorry."

Anatoliy snapped his fingers in front of her. "Sorry be damned, you stupid woman! When I'm Grand Prince we'll have no more of this nonsense!" He pulled his cloak back around his shoulders and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him.

Anastasia watched him leave, a troubled expression on her face. She then returned to her work. She had 10 minutes to herself when there was yet another knock on her door. "Damn it, what now?!"

"Sorry, Anastasia..." The newcomer said, backing away. "I was in town and I thought I'd stop by and see you." Mustering his courage, he shouldered his way into the room and stood before her, holding his hands out to show he had no weapon. He nervously ran a manicured finger through his own blond hair.

She smiled gratefully. "Hello, Constantine. How's life in Rostov-on-Don?" Anastasia gestured for him to take a seat. "Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

"The river flows, the trade keeps coming..." Constantine took a seat and nervously rubbed one of his rings. "Life goes on, basically." He graciously accepted the offered tea and managed a smile himself. "So, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, the usual." Anastasia leaned forward and pursed her lips. "You know, being Prime Minister isn't as much fun as everyone tells me. I have to deal with foreigners, I have to deal with customs, I have to deal with Prince Anatoliy of Tver'..." She indicated the pile of letters. "And I need to send invitations to the Winter Ball around the place."

Constanine smiled. "Surely it isn't that bad? Anyway, the ten of us are all very grateful to you for your continued hard work on our behalf and on behalf of the people of the Principalities." He took his circlet off his head and rolled it in his hands for a moment.

"...oh, please. You sound so old, Constantine." Anastasia laughed. "You're just a year older than I am."

He blushed. "Yes, it goes with the job. Um, anyway, look. About the Winter Ball..." He paused.

"If you want me to move it to Rostov-On-Don, I'll give you the same answer I gave Anatoliy. No."

"No! That's not it!" He blushed bright red. "I was wondering if you would mind accompanying me as...um...my date to the Winter Ball." He offered her his hand.

She smiled and took it. "A cute boy escorting me to the crowning event of the Federation's social calendar? What more I could I ask for?"

~~

((OOC: Basically, assume you've all been invited to the Winter Ball. This is a reintroductory thread and I'd really like everyone to enter. Send whoever, I'm reasonably forgiving in most cases.)

OOC: What tech?

OOC: Any? Nothing completely outlandish, I'd say.

OOC: Alright. Cool, I'll make a post before I go to bed. If I need to change anything, tell me.

IC:

And along the streets rode a car. It was painted a sleek black and it was well polished well, as the reflection of any building it passed shown off its outer hull. The only thing that seemed to draw any attention to it was the Amerathian Imperial crest on either front door. Not too mention the red roof of the car.

In this car sat a middle-age man. He was Comrade-Captain Ikain. He had survived many a battlefield of Amerathian wars and this car was the fruit of his labor. It was the car of the pyramid which was the Consulariat of Amerath. The Foreign affairs division. Not only that.. But he was a descendant of a Noble family of the Amerathian Empire, making him well suited for this.

Captain Ikain sat quietly, lost in his own thoughts, as the car made its way towards the building of the ball. He was dressed in the Ceremonial Black and Reds of the Amerathian Military, it was included with badges of many affairs hanging from his breast.

The car made a slow approach towards the building. His full name was...

Talus Ikain.

Novgorod, in its position as the premier city of the United Russian Principalities, was a large city with all the accoutrements of a modern city. While it's population, at 5 million, wasn't as large as that of Moscow or Smolensk, nevertheless its position for the past 400 years as the Russian window on the west meant that its people lacked very little. Unfortunately, one of the things they lacked was a grid of roads and streets.

The city's proud history meant that nearly every road had a monument nearby, or a statue in the green way. Perhaps inevitably, successive city and federal governments had placed the precedence on the sculpture rather than the inhabitants. This meant that the city, with its trading halls, old churches, and prospekts, was a beautiful city to walk through. However, it was a dreadful city to drive in.

For the most part, residents made use of the public transportation system if they needed to be someplace quickly, leaving the roads clear for the visiting princes and their motorcades or for the tourists, who mostly walked anyway. Very few people expected a visitor to be driving through the Nevsky Palace's gateway, over the Alexander Bridge.

The gate guards, overpaid and overweight as they were, managed to snap to attention as Ikain went through. They made no move to stop him, figuring that he was either invited or someone important, and if neither, they felt that the Palace Police could deal with it better than their ceremonial pikes.

An attractive young woman indicated to Ikain that he should turn into a marked zone with a pair of large oriental fans. "Welcome to the UPR, sir!" She said, perkily. "Privet!"

OOC: I am in. Post in a bit.

(Bump for a few more rpers and to see if I can fix whatever is wrong with my profile...)

The car did as it was directed. The rear window of the car rolled down and a white gloved hand raised a wave to the woman; a thank you for the welcome.

Comrade-Captain Talus Ikain was not known for bieng a very arrogant or ignorant person. He was reknown throughout Amerathian Noble families as the stuff that heros were made of.

The car moved quietly and moved to the marked zone, (Assuming it's a parking space.) and shut off its engine. It sat quietly...The window had been rolled back up and there seemed to be talking from within..

The front door opened and the driver stepped out; also in the Amerathian black and reds. He moved to the door behind his and opened it outwards. (It was a suicide door.). The Captain was the first to exit the vehicle, after him came two other people in Red coats with Black webbings.. It was some what of a .. ceremonial guard..

The Captain stood where he was for a long time, observing the view of the city.

OOC: I really can't do a well introduction.

((OOC: I'm in, but this is an international event as well as a local event, correct?))

((OOC 2:...Ya know what, I'll just assume it is.))

IC:

The sleek black limo drove toward the building that held the Winter Ball. Stewardess Isabella Reinhard was inside, clad in a black wool coat that stretched down to her ankles. Under it, she was dressed in the ceremonial uniform of the Stewardess, which was the uniform of Grand Admiral of the Navy. She had insisted on coming with out her husband, as she had gotten really tired of him lately.

Inside, only three highly trained security agents accompanied her. She was confident in their skills, and denied any more protection. The limo began to slow down slightly as they approached the building.

OOC: I'm guessing it's an international. Since I'm in here.

OOC: I'll arrive by aircraft. IC post coming up.

OOC: It is international, yes. Sorry, should have made that clearer. *wonders where Veliky Novgorod's airport is in this reality, goes to look at the map*

(Amerath)

IC: The woman, dressed impeccably in a white fur coat, hat and gloves saluted as she bounced over to the visitor's car. "Good afternoon, sir!" She said, smiling. "And welcome to Nevsky Dvorets!" She paused, a nervous smile on her face. "Or have I already said that? I'm sorry, I'm new at this." She bent down, lifting her great coat up slightly and curtsying, revealing her jeans for a moment as she did. She picked back up her fans from where they had dropped and frowned at the guards, then managed nervously, "Um...your men will need to check their weapons. Palace security gets really intense about that kind of thing..."

Then another thought crossed her mind and she flushed pink. "Sorry, I was told to introduce myself. I'm Anastasia Feodrevna Marinova." She curtsied again, then stood there, waiting for the reaction.

~~

(Towcrokia)

The two guards stood ready this time, having been prepared. Their existence was the result of Russian policy to always follow good form, no matter how lacklustre the function might be. Sometime in the past, a Veliky Kniaz had decided that guards in colourful uniforms gave the palace such a finished look. And so, the efficient Palace Police found themselves saddled with the rejects of the military at their most important posts, the result of a social democracy trying to ensure everyone had a job they liked.

The limousine came forward and was stopped by the two guards with a shining red bar. The fat one (because there's always a fat one) glanced at the thin one, then leaned forward with a gloved hand. "Passport, ma'am?" He said, nervously.

Isabella handed over her passport to the guard with out a word, sure that everything would be in order.

Captain Ikain didn't say anything to Anastasia at first, but rather, he reached back into the car and pulled a hat from the backseat. He spent a few seconds straightening it on his head before he cleared hsi throat and made a comment.

"Of course, they will check their swords in. Please show us where?"

The Grand Empire of Amerath had noble houses spread around it. Six to be exact. Each house followed a tradition. In this case, Ikain came from the second most powerful House of Ikain (or House Secundus), who's tradition it was to always meet their enemy in close combat no matter the cost. This tradition did not apply to the Empire's military personel that were placed under each house's command. But each house raised their own company of soldiers who served as special forces. So nearly any battle that the "Feral Company" of House Ikain was involved in, almost always ended in melee combat.

But for Comrade-Captain Ikain, who enlisted in the General army rather than the Feral Company, he carried no ceremonial sword.

"Oh, Forgive my rudeness. I am Comrade-Captain Ikain. Pleased to meet you, Miss Marinova." He offered a hand shake.

((Amerath))

Anastasia flushed pink and curtsied once more. "It's all right, sir." She said, backing away and opening a side door. "Through here is the weapons check, sir." The door led into a cool dark room with a counter along the side, behind which sat a short man in a dark green uniform.

~~

(Towcrokia))

The guards gave the document a cursory check, then indicated down the road. "Straight on, turn left at the first crossing, park there and there will be a guide into the palace at that point."

Ikain stepped into the room with his arms folded behind his back in traditional Amerathian Parade march. His guards kept their hands down by their sides. The three approached the man in the Dark green uniform.

"Hail. We are here to deposit our weapons."

A black limousine with tinted windows arrived at the Palace and smoothly halted in front of the entrance. The door opened and two men slipped out of the vehicle, both of which were clad in the typical Flamazonian military suits. Prince Viktor, the handsome prince of Flamazon and second in line to the throne grinned at his comrade, "Nice ball they've arranged here nyet?"

Roma Alexeievich Rogachevsky laughed in response. "Yes indeed, but let's enter the palace before we make more conclusions." he winked. "Perhaps your highness will find a beautiful Lady to dance the night away with?"

"Well what on earth are we waiting for?! Let's go!" and with that, the two young men entered through the huge doors...

The Limo followed the directions as they were given, waiting to be greeted.

Ikain stepped into the room with his arms folded behind his back in traditional Amerathian Parade march. His guards kept their hands down by their sides. The three approached the man in the Dark green uniform.

"Hail. We are here to deposit our weapons."

"Zdraiustive." The guard said, indicating that the weapons be placed on the table in front of him with an airy gesture. His armed companions inspected the men with suspicious eyes. "Once your weapons are in quarantine, you may go through the door on your right."

A black limousine with tinted windows arrived at the Palace and smoothly halted in front of the entrance. The door opened and two men slipped out of the vehicle, both of which were clad in the typical Flamazonian military suits. Prince Viktor, the handsome prince of Flamazon and second in line to the throne grinned at his comrade, "Nice ball they've arranged here nyet?"

Roma Alexeievich Rogachevsky laughed in response. "Yes indeed, but let's enter the palace before we make more conclusions." he winked. "Perhaps your highness will find a beautiful Lady to dance the night away with?"

"Well what on earth are we waiting for?! Let's go!" and with that, the two young men entered through the huge doors...[/quote]

The ballroom of Nevsky Dvorets' was one of the largest in the URP, and maybe even on Earth, though few Russians were willing to engage in the travel neccessary to press such a claim. The size of a cathedral, it was painted in a variety of bright colours, with shades of red holding the primary focus. As opposed to the dinner-room, which was placed along a door through which, even now, servants scurried back and forth finishing the last preparations.

Several clumps of local nobles and bourgeoise had already formed, with the various Princes and their companions mingling in a pattern that ensured none of the rivals would ever be in the same cluster at the same time.

Anastasia sighed and leaned to the side to whisper in Constantine's ear. "Are you people always like this in a Grand Prince electoral year?" She asked her date, who had just slipped behind a pillar to avoid the pompous and overweight Prince Anisim of Muscovy.

"I don't know, we haven't had one for fifty years." He pulled her deeper into the shadows and stepped back around the pillar to return to the floor, only to crash directly into Prince Anatoliy and his wife, the Princess Ekaterina.

"Clumsy fool!" Anatoliy snapped, sniffing and pulling away.

Anastasia sighed. 'And to think my original plan was to slip out halfway through the evening and go buy dinner elsewhere.' She thought to herself as she tugged Constantine away from the incident. "Dance with me."

Roma and Viktor's entrance had not gone unnoted, however. A pair of servants detached themselves from the throng and floated to the Flamazonians, bowing at the waist. "May we be of assistance?" The older one asked, addressing Roma with only the most cursory of glances at Viktor. "A glass of wine or vodka, sir?"

A group of young women had congregated at one of the walls, casting occasional glances around the room. Occasionally one of them would depart for a dance or to flirt with a pair of soldiers or nobles, but the group remained at a constant five to ten. "Who are they?" Anna hissed, shooting a glance at the new arrivals.

Sophie shrugged, studying Roma and Viktor through a mirror. "My father said that there were Flamazonians coming." She answered. "Prince Viktor and some servant or other." She studied the young Prince in a very predatory fashion. "He's quite cute, their Prince. I think I'll go introduce myself." She stretched her athletic body a little when she spotted Viktor looking in their direction, but pretended not to notice his attention.

"Hey, I saw him first!" Anna whispered in reply, giggling. "He's mine."

"Why don't you go flirt with your Guard Captain, Arthur Alexandreivich?" Sophie reached forward and patted Anna on the cheek condescendingly, then indicated behind them.

Anna turned just in time to find herself swept up in the arms of Guard Captain Arthur Alexandreivich of the Nevsky Dvorets' Palace Police. "Arthur!" She laughed out loud, puncturing the muffled hum of conversation for a moment. "It's polite to let someone know before you drag them off!"

Her beau silenced her with a quick, concealed kiss, then pulled her to the ballroom's dancing space. Sophie waved at Anna's retreating back, then slowly walked over to Viktor. "Privet." She said, offering her hand. "Have you been properly welcomed to the Palace?"

The Limo followed the directions as they were given, waiting to be greeted.

Anastasia had stepped out of the winter winds for a moment to take a nip of vodka. However, when she saw the next limousine she hurriedly snatched up her fans and directed the lady to the right. "Privet! Welcome to the United Russian Principalities!" Then she chased after the limousine to wait to greet the guest when she stepped out of her car, almost stumbling on ice. "Eeep!"

She caught herself and was waiting by the entrance a few moments later as the car pulled to a stop.

The two guards of Ikain stepped foward quietly and.. reluctantly and hesitantly layed their ceremonial swords down on the table.

Ikain waited for his men to resume their position before he stepped foward and pulled a single small pistol from the holster located on the inside of his ceremonial coat. These men were lightly armed of course. And though odd to take weapons to a party, they lived in a rough nation.

"That is all we have."

"Zdraztvuytye molodaya dyevushka..." Said Viktor as he bowed low and brushed his lips on the lady's outstretched hand. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Imperial Prince Viktor Vladimirovich Romanov of Flamazon and sovereign of Kracniy...surely you've heard of my Father's Empire, nyet? " His eyes gleamed playfully and he smiled. *This woman certainly is a piece of art...boy am I lucky tonight!*

((Kracniy))

"Are you?" She said, clearly delighted at being right. "I would never have guessed! A boy as cute as you the Prince of Flamazon? I'm Sophie Karanov, daughter of the Boyar of Odessa." She shifted a little so her breasts bounced slightly, then leaned forward. "Why don't you ditch your guardian, and we can go find something to do?"

"Are you monopolising that poor boy, Sophie?" Another girl, this one not as athletic but making up for it in her rounded figure, walked over and joined the first. "Privet!" She added brightly upon seeing Viktor, curtseying. "I'm Ekaterina Ruslanevich."

"Of course I'm not, Katya." Sophie said, glaring at Ekaterina as if she wanted the other girl to die.

~~

(Amerath)

"Then you may go right on in, sirs." The guard opened the door and indicated that they should enter.

Prince Viktor bowed and kissed Ekaterina's hand. "Well, I'm sure you already know who I am so I'll skip the introduction m'lady." he nodded and smiled, revealing two perfectly cute dimples. "I am indeed glad to have attended this ball after all, not even a prince often meets ladies such as yourself." he winked.

ooc: Can I still send someone to the ball, or is it too late?