NationStates Jolt Archive

Euphorictrance inspired me to do this thread.

The nation of Ameridian Island has a offer to other nations.

Queen Sarah I is open for marriage but those who marry her get:

1. Land in the French-Aboriginal Kingdom
2. Control of the State Owned Oil Company, Hawksburg Inc (the father of Sarah bought it and now she offers it up)
3. Title of King of the FAK
4. Alliance

Those interested do not need to be religious, though the Queen is a member of the Free Church. They can be Atheist or even Scientologist if they wish to, as long as they respect the faith of the Queen and respect her in general.

All interested, please post here. Thanks.

http://www.arabelladorman.com/portraits/the_greek_girl_ad8.gif

I guess this would be a picture for the Queen for now.

This is my first thing like this on NS so I hope I draw up some interest.

from the GL Department of State to its counterpart in Ameridian Island

Paul M. Grigs, a citizen of our country wishes to have Queen Sarah's hand in marriage.

Col. Grigs, nephew of Luke K. Luftsgerden, President of Greater Luftsgerden, is a well respected leader in his own right. A profile is enclosed.

Profile: Grigs, Paul M.

Age: 28
Education: University of Minnesota, Master's in Civil engineering
Occupation: Colonel in Luftsgerd Special Forces. Commands the 22nd regiment.

Background:
Col. Grigs is a capable leader who has climbed quickly through the establishment due to his great skill. He is described as intelligent, easy-going, yet diligent and honorable. He has a reputation for getting tough jobs done, and done well. On a personal level, he is known to be a devout catholic, as is much of the Luftsgerd Confederacy.

End Trnsmission

From Paul Grigs to Queen Sarah of Ameridian Island

Blessed be the Lord who set you upon this earth, on that blessed day

How the angels must have sung on that bright blessed day

And how the birds in the sky must sing for days when you grace them with a smile

- Paul Grigs

OC: Pretty good for my first time at sappy poetry, eh?

Having won the lottery of interested parties, Comrade Ivan Gulyakov has arrived in Ameridia to woo the Queen...

Name: GULYAKOV, Ivan
Age: 27
Height: 6 foot 1 inch
Weight: 12 stone 6lbs (174lbs)
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black
Religion: None
Philosophy: Anarchist-Communism
Education: Life, the Free University of Atopiana, Free School #27
Occupation: Whatever needs doing. Specialises in handyman's work, poetry, and childcare. Member of Local Defence Council and marksman.

Background: A typical citizen of Atopia, he is a truly liberated man. He considers himself the equal of all, and all the equal of him. He dislikes combat, but as a member of the Workers' and Peasant's Militia he has seen action in the interminable border war between Atopiana and Skgorria, and suffers from PTSD on occasion. His favourite colour is blue, and he enjoys good conversation. He suffers fools badly, and is often caustic and sarcastic to those he dislikes.

Receiving word that a communist has come , seeking fair Queen Sarah's hand, Paul Grigs decides on the best course of action. "Lieutenant, prep my jet. The commie has not won yet."
"Roger that, sir."
"'Roger that, sir?' Come on ell- Tee, couldn't you think of anything that rhymed with yet? Or at least start a new couplet."
"Sorry, sir."
" Nevermind, Jackson. Just take care of the jet."

Shaking the taxi driver's hand, Ivan smiled and thanked him for the pleasant journey. The taxi drove off, driver clutching his new copy of Nicholas Walter's About Anarchism - the newest member of the Industrial Workers of the World, thanks to Gulyakov.

Still smiling, Ivan turned to face the Palace. Typical power-based architecture, he thought as he strode towards the gates, designed to subjugate the masses and inform them in no uncertain terms who's the boss. Still, should be interesting to have a look round the place, get chatting, see if I can further the political advancement of this country.

Waving his gold-embossed invitation at the guards, he strolled past them with a laughed "It's alright, I'm an anarchist!"

Leaving the gaudily-uniformed gate guard gawping in his wake, he headed for the main doors, whistling the Internationale...

Touching down at the Amerindian airport after hours of flight time, Grigs stepped stepped calmly out of the cockpit followed by Lt. Jackson, his RTO for the flight and XO for everything else. Grigs asked the ground crew where a phone was, to notify the Queen's department that he had arrived. Paul didn't want to be a barbarian and just waltz in unannounced. Meanwhile, Jackson got two rooms at a nearby hotel.

The best way to get familar with an area is to see it for yourself. So, the Colonel decided to head out for a jog around the capital. The long flight was not comfortable for his muscular, six-foot frame. Stretching his legs, he saw Rosarius Square, Fort Martel, aborigines hawking touristy stuff in the streets, tourists bargaining with French business men, and in 35 minutes, the Colonel had seen over seven miles of Ameridian Island. Nice place, he thought as he entered the hotel elevator to his room.

Jerome Hassleton transmitted the following message.

'My fair lady, although I doubt a lowly man such as myself could ever hope to win a goddess like you, I humbly ask permission to woo you, that I may spend some time in your company."

To the nations of Kologk, Greater Luftsgerden, and Atopiana:

We welcome you to our humble nation. Please take a hotel room or residence as we wish to meet one at a time. We wish to meet GL first.

Also, Atopiana, don't try to place Anarchism here.

Touching down at the Amerindian airport after hours of flight time, Grigs stepped stepped calmly out of the cockpit followed by Lt. Jackson, his RTO for the flight and XO for everything else. Grigs asked the ground crew where a phone was, to notify the Queen's department that he had arrived. Paul didn't want to be a barbarian and just waltz in unannounced. Meanwhile, Jackson got two rooms at a nearby hotel.

The best way to get familar with an area is to see it for yourself. So, the Colonel decided to head out for a jog around the capital. The long flight was not comfortable for his muscular, six-foot frame. Stretching his legs, he saw Rosarius Square, Fort Martel, aborigines hawking touristy stuff in the streets, tourists bargaining with French business men, and in 35 minutes, the Colonel had seen over seven miles of Ameridian Island. Nice place, he thought as he entered the hotel elevator to his room.

A offical went to the hotel room and knocked on his door. ''Hello? Mr. Grigs?'' the offical said. Grigs opened the door and a offical introduced himself. ''Please follow me, I will escort you to the Queen.''

The offical took Grigs to Fort Martel and the guards opened the gates. Grigs was tooken to a room to rest. Soon, a young woman, the 18 year old Sarah came in the room. ''You must be Mr. Grigs. I am Queen Sarah. Nice to meet you.''

The woman bowed and smiled. ''Would you like to go for a walk? I have paintings I could show you, if you like art.'' ''A tour of the Fortress is possible, if you would like one.''

Tiberius Griffincrest was currently in an arena far, far away, and so was unable, and probably would have been unwilling to attend this event. Instead, he sent his best friend, also the CFO of Griffincrest, Maximillian Goldfist, to the event.

Maximillian was semi-reluctant to go, but he knew how big the bloodless acquisition of a foreign oil company was to Griffincrest. His plane soon touched down in the Ameridian Islands, and he stepped of, and straightened his tie, then stepped out onto the tarmac.

Tiberius Griffincrest was currently in an arena far, far away, and so was unable, and probably would have been unwilling to attend this event. Instead, he sent his best friend, also the CFO of Griffincrest, Maximillian Goldfist, to the event.

Maximillian was semi-reluctant to go, but he knew how big the bloodless acquisition of a foreign oil company was to Griffincrest. His plane soon touched down in the Ameridian Islands, and he stepped of, and straightened his tie, then stepped out onto the tarmac.

Just before I continue or what not, is your guy here for marrying the Queen or just for the oil company?

OOC: Well since this is ooc and you can't use it against me, its just for the oil. Is anyone actually here for the queen? Thats all OOC though, so don;t let it change your IC decision

Name: King Godfrey of the House of the Eighth Kingdom
Age: 26 (96 in normal years if that is alright with you due to a Valgardian gene which slows aging)
I.Q,: 138
Height: 6’7”
Weight: 250 pounds
Eyes: Sky Blue
Hair: Light Blonde
Religion: Odinism
Political Beliefs: Elitist
Education: The Imperial Military College, University of High Philosophy, and the School of War Tactics
Occupation: King of the Eighth Kingdom, Vassal to the Emperor of the Scandinvan Empire, Commander of the 1252nd Legion, and High Councilor of the Imperial High Command
Titles: Knight of the Order of the Emperor’s Blade, King of the Eight Kingdom, Defender of the Imperial Crown, Count of Glamier, Duke of Erinamire, Lord of Nerinto, Consol of Eighth Kingdom, Advisor to the Emperor, and Defender of the Throne
Interests: Boxing, riding horses, sailing, hunting, fishing, reading, painting, history, art, wrestling, studying, teaching, warfare, battle, new technologies, and a number of other things.
Background: Born in an extremely wealthy and powerful noble family and from the begging of his life he lived a life with little contact to the non-noble world outside of the Imperial capital of Valgard. As he grew he was subject to the extremely extensive teaching and training that he had to endure due to the noble traditions of the Empire and his own family. Till he was fully grown he was taught for decades with all the information that he could handle and his training turned into an extremely powerful and skilled warrior. When all was complete the throne was passed unto from his uncle due to him now having any children capable of inheriting the throne.

Name: King Godfrey of the House of the Seventh Kingdom
Age: 26 (96 in normal years if that is alright with you due to a Valgardian gene which slows aging)
I.Q,: 138
Height: 6’7”
Weight: 250 pounds
Eyes: Sky Blue
Hair: Light Blonde
Religion: Odinism
Political Beliefs: Elitist
Education: The Imperial Military College, University of High Philosophy, and the School of War Tactics
Occupation: King of the Eighth Kingdom, Vassal to the Emperor of the Scandinvan Empire, Commander of the 1252nd Legion, and High Councilor of the Imperial High Command
Titles: Knight of the Order of the Emperor’s Blade, King of the Eight Kingdom, Defender of the Imperial Crown, Count of Glamier, Duke of Erinamire, Lord of Nerinto, Consol of Eighth Kingdom, Advisor to the Emperor, and Defender of the Throne
Interests: Boxing, riding horses, sailing, hunting, fishing, reading, painting, history, art, wrestling, studying, teaching, warfare, battle, new technologies, and a number of other things.
Background: Born in an extremely wealthy and powerful noble family and from the begging of his life he lived a life with little contact to the non-noble world outside of the Imperial capital of Valgard. As he grew he was subject to the extremely extensive teaching and training that he had to endure due to the noble traditions of the Empire and his own family. Till he was fully grown he was taught for decades with all the information that he could handle and his training turned into an extremely powerful and skilled warrior. When all was complete the throne was passed unto from his uncle due to him now having any children capable of inheriting the throne.

The King can come to my nation, to check into a hotel. The Queen meets suitors one at a time, so he can see the nation or something, I suppose till she meets him. Awesome suitor here!

Name: King Godfrey of the House of the Seventh Kingdom
Age: 26 (96 in normal years if that is alright with you due to a Valgardian gene which slows aging)
I.Q,: 138
Height: 6’7”
Weight: 250 pounds
Eyes: Sky Blue
Hair: Light Blonde
Religion: Odinism
Political Beliefs: Elitist
Education: The Imperial Military College, University of High Philosophy, and the School of War Tactics
Occupation: King of the Eighth Kingdom, Vassal to the Emperor of the Scandinvan Empire, Commander of the 1252nd Legion, and High Councilor of the Imperial High Command
Titles: Knight of the Order of the Emperor’s Blade, King of the Eight Kingdom, Defender of the Imperial Crown, Count of Glamier, Duke of Erinamire, Lord of Nerinto, Consol of Eighth Kingdom, Advisor to the Emperor, and Defender of the Throne
Interests: Boxing, riding horses, sailing, hunting, fishing, reading, painting, history, art, wrestling, studying, teaching, warfare, battle, new technologies, and a number of other things.
Background: Born in an extremely wealthy and powerful noble family and from the begging of his life he lived a life with little contact to the non-noble world outside of the Imperial capital of Valgard. As he grew he was subject to the extremely extensive teaching and training that he had to endure due to the noble traditions of the Empire and his own family. Till he was fully grown he was taught for decades with all the information that he could handle and his training turned into an extremely powerful and skilled warrior. When all was complete the throne was passed unto from his uncle due to him now having any children capable of inheriting the throne.

You may send the King over now to my nation.

A offical went to the hotel room and knocked on his door. ''Hello? Mr. Grigs?'' the offical said. Grigs opened the door and a offical introduced himself. ''Please follow me, I will escort you to the Queen.''

The offical took Grigs to Fort Martel and the guards opened the gates. Grigs was tooken to a room to rest. Soon, a young woman, the 18 year old Sarah came in the room. ''You must be Mr. Grigs. I am Queen Sarah. Nice to meet you.''

The woman bowed and smiled. ''Would you like to go for a walk? I have paintings I could show you, if you like art.'' ''A tour of the Fortress is possible, if you would like one.''

" If your Highness would be so kind as to show me some of the artistic treasures of your nation, I would be honored," answered Grigs. " I also would like your Highness to know that I am greatly honored to be the first to be granted an audience. Is it overwhelming, to have so many, uh, candidates come, just with the hope of having an audience?"

Colonel Grigs was really at a loss for words. He wasn't sure, for the first since Officer Candidate School, how this situation was to be handled. It was a blind date, diplomatic mission, and business venture all rolled into a short time. Although he had arrived more to serve Luftsgerden's interests, he now found himself strongly attracted to this woman.

OOC: Is the queen doing this more for her country's good, or is she actually interested in finding a significant other? Just wondering...

"Hullo," said Gulyakov to the soldier on the door, "I've come to have a wander around the servant's quarters, only I'm not sure where the door is, so I assumed this was it."
"No, it's just round the back," began the guard, "but - HEY! Where are you going?!"
"To the servant's quarters!" called Gulyakov over his shoulder as he ran down the steps.

"Should we chase him?" mused the first guard.
"Nah," said the second, "it's more than our job's worth. Besides, what's the point? We'd only get into trouble for abandoning our post."

OOC: What the heck is going on?

Lt. Jackson had two missions. Assist Col. Paul Grigs and, more importantly, maintain surveillance on communist agents.

So, he had been covertly tailing Gulyakov. The commie had been snooping around the Palace Hotel, making a general nuisance of himself. Typical anarchist, thought Jackson, trying to spread his outdated, ineffective, utopian beliefs. Then Gulyakov bolted past some rent-a-cops towards some closed-off area. Is he trying to steal construction techniques? thought the confused Lieutenant as he gave chase, tossing the guards a twenty as he ran past.

Atopiana, stop this please. Don't control my people and spread Anarchism please. Not to be rude.

" If your Highness would be so kind as to show me some of the artistic treasures of your nation, I would be honored," answered Grigs. " I also would like your Highness to know that I am greatly honored to be the first to be granted an audience. Is it overwhelming, to have so many, uh, candidates come, just with the hope of having an audience?"

Colonel Grigs was really at a loss for words. He wasn't sure, for the first since Officer Candidate School, how this situation was to be handled. It was a blind date, diplomatic mission, and business venture all rolled into a short time. Although he had arrived more to serve Luftsgerden's interests, he now found himself strongly attracted to this woman.

OOC: Is the queen doing this more for her country's good, or is she actually interested in finding a significant other? Just wondering...

OOC-I am thinking on that.

''It can be overwhelming some times.'' Sarah said. Sarah smiled and took Grigs through a hall with paintings of people and events. The paintings were superbly made, one was even made by Sarah at age 14.

After a while of touring the artistic sphere and of going on a surprise tour of the Palace, Sarah smiled and said ''Would you like to have something to eat?'' to Grigs.

OOC-Sorry if not a longer post, was late in this.

''It can be overwhelming some times.'' Sarah said. Sarah smiled and took Grigs through a hall with paintings of people and events. The paintings were superbly made, one was even made by Sarah at age 14.

After a while of touring the artistic sphere and of going on a surprise tour of the Palace, Sarah smiled and said ''Would you like to have something to eat?'' to Grigs.

" I would like that very much," Replied Paul. "Where were you thinking? I have heard only good things about the local cuisine."

Paul had been impressed by the art and the Palace. He was surprised to see a piece by the Queen herself, which compared favorably to the other works. Yet the question still kept popping up in the back of his head, How do I set myself apart from the other guys?

Atopiana, stop this please. Don't control my people and spread Anarchism please. Not to be rude.

OOC: Ur, ur, the man's an anarchist. He's grown up in a country where anarchism is the dominant philosophy, and he is constantly on the look out for opportunities to 'further the international revolution', as are all his fellow nationals.

As for controlling your people, I'm not, I'm having conversations with them. Feel free to have them chase after me or change their minds, or whatever. Sorry if you think I'm being a meanie. I assure you I'm not. :)

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

IC: Gulyakov grinned. The hotels here were constant reminders to the ordinary working man and woman that their betters could afford things they couldn't - but the Amerindians had failed to make the essential connection, that their so-called betters could afford such grandiose buildings because they stole the fruits of their labour.

Ah well, maybe I can change a few minds.

Suddenly, he stopped, span on his heels, and held out his hand, vertically.

"Oi! You! In the fancy dress! What're you up to, following me like a stray dog out for scraps?"

Jackson quickly realized this guy was on edge. He's flippin' crazy! thought Jackson as he watched the commie harrass some woman who happened to be following too close for his taste. I better watch myself, cuz this guy is probably packing heat. Jackson slowly raised his follow distance, so he was now a comfortable distance away, yet close enough not to lose him on corners, just like the taught at the Academy.

"Ah," grinned Gulyakov, "my mistake, I do apologise." Bowing, he handed the rather taken aback woman a small pamphlet, then turned on his heels and started once more for the servant's entrance.

OOC: For the record, my people do not use bad movie, stereotypical disguises.

OOC: Ur, ur, the man's an anarchist. He's grown up in a country where anarchism is the dominant philosophy, and he is constantly on the look out for opportunities to 'further the international revolution', as are all his fellow nationals.

As for controlling your people, I'm not, I'm having conversations with them. Feel free to have them chase after me or change their minds, or whatever. Sorry if you think I'm being a meanie. I assure you I'm not. :)

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

IC: Gulyakov grinned. The hotels here were constant reminders to the ordinary working man and woman that their betters could afford things they couldn't - but the Amerindians had failed to make the essential connection, that their so-called betters could afford such grandiose buildings because they stole the fruits of their labour.

Ah well, maybe I can change a few minds.

Suddenly, he stopped, span on his heels, and held out his hand, vertically.

"Oi! You! In the fancy dress! What're you up to, following me like a stray dog out for scraps?"

If you want conversation, let me do my own characters, I suppose. And I don't want anarchism really in my nation.

" I would like that very much," Replied Paul. "Where were you thinking? I have heard only good things about the local cuisine."

Paul had been impressed by the art and the Palace. He was surprised to see a piece by the Queen herself, which compared favorably to the other works. Yet the question still kept popping up in the back of his head, How do I set myself apart from the other guys?

They passed more pictures, till they came to the dining room. When they sat down, Sarah said ''How do you like French food?'' Within some time, loads of food poured out for them.

The King can come to my nation, to check into a hotel. The Queen meets suitors one at a time, so he can see the nation or something, I suppose till she meets him. Awesome suitor here!The King of the Eighth Kingdom plane arrived into the skies of Ameridian Island and there requested permission to land at a secure air port.

The King of the Eighth Kingdom plane arrived into the skies of Ameridian Island and there requested permission to land at a secure air port.

An airport was secured for him to land, he can land now if he wants to.

OOC: Kologk is a puppet of mine. Too lazy to change accounts. Any complaints if I skip the landing and just have him in his hotel room?

OOC: Kologk is a puppet of mine. Too lazy to change accounts. Any complaints if I skip the landing and just have him in his hotel room?

I guess you could, I don't know but I would like to know he landed and that, I suppose.

OOC: are you gunna pick my guy up or should I assume I'm in a hotel?

OOC: are you gunna pick my guy up or should I assume I'm in a hotel?

Sorry for that. I will pick him up. Before I continue, he is only here for the oil company right?

OOC: Whatever. Here we go. I'll do the landing.

IC: "Tower, this is Kologkian One, requesting permission to land, over."

Jerome looked over the city, picking out the palace, and the hotel that he had made reservations in. While the pilot waited for permission to land, he switched on his laptop and looked over his e-mails. "Hmm. Some big bar fight, why do I care? Ooh, looks nice. I'll have to build a house there."

Tiberius Griffincrest was currently in an arena far, far away, and so was unable, and probably would have been unwilling to attend this event. Instead, he sent his best friend, also the CFO of Griffincrest, Maximillian Goldfist, to the event.

Maximillian was semi-reluctant to go, but he knew how big the bloodless acquisition of a foreign oil company was to Griffincrest. His plane soon touched down in the Ameridian Islands, and he stepped of, and straightened his tie, then stepped out onto the tarmac.

OOC-Is there oil in the Pacific or Atlantic?

Maximillian was picked up by officals who welcomed him to the land, and escorted him to a hotel room. Even though he was only here for the oil, there was a chance he could be here for more.

OOC-Is there oil in the Pacific or Atlantic?

Maximillian was picked up by officals who welcomed him to the land, and escorted him to a hotel room. Even though he was only here for the oil, there was a chance he could be here for more.

OOC: There's oil all over the place. And since this is the NS world, RL oil locations don't really matter.

OOC: Whatever. Here we go. I'll do the landing.

IC: "Tower, this is Kologkian One, requesting permission to land, over."

Jerome looked over the city, picking out the palace, and the hotel that he had made reservations in. While the pilot waited for permission to land, he switched on his laptop and looked over his e-mails. "Hmm. Some big bar fight, why do I care? Ooh, looks nice. I'll have to build a house there."

The pilot was allowed to land. When Jerome came out, he was welcomed and escorted to his hotel room, because the Queen was with someone else at the moment. When Jerome got to his room, he could set himself up there.

OOC: There's oil all over the place. And since this is the NS world, RL oil locations don't really matter.

Just wondering is all, in case my nation, I have is in one of those places, if I choose to.

OOC: You guys don't know he's just therefor oil

IC: Maximillian thanked the officials and entered his room, and unpacked his bags. He then went back down to an official. "So when do we get to meet the queen?"

OOC: You guys don't know he's just therefor oil

IC: Maximillian thanked the officials and entered his room, and unpacked his bags. He then went back down to an official. "So when do we get to meet the queen?"

OOC-In case he is. Perhaps instead of just the oil, he'll fall in love with the Queen, I don't know.

''Later on, currently she is meeting with someone else right now.''

Jerome immediately plugged in his laptop, and accessed a yellow pages of Ameridan Island. A short time later, he made two calls, ordering a large boquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. Then, due to jet lag, he fell asleep to await his introduction to the queen.

OOC: you accepting more suitors?

OOC: you accepting more suitors?

If you have one, you can come in, though there are others you will have to race with to get the Queen's hand.

If you have one, you can come in, though there are others you will have to race with to get the Queen's hand.

OOC: then let the games begin.....

IC:
Name: Gorobets, Wilhelm
Age: 31
Rank: Section Commander, State Police
Appearance: Tall, blonde haired, blue eyes, large scar on his right cheek starting just below his eye and finishing 2 cm befofe his jaw
Weapons: None, though he still wears his pistol holster
Service History: served with the State Police for 11 years, and as a member of the SP is exempt from military service. Commands 3rd Section, 12th Area, 9th Department
Misc: a dedicated member of the SNP, Gorobets' Section is now clean and peaceful. Rarely has he had to call for military assistance during his duties. Runner-up to Captain Olga Ianovich of the SS in Sabre Fencing in the Skgorrian Games. Can speak Skgorrian, German and Russian with varying degrees of fluency

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

Gorobets stepped off the plane bags in hand, and took in his surroundings. "What to do now?" he wondered

OOC: then let the games begin.....

IC:
Name: Gorobets, Wilhelm
Age: 31
Rank: Section Commander, State Police
Appearance: Tall, blonde haired, blue eyes, large scar on his right cheek starting just below his eye and finishing 2 cm befofe his jaw
Weapons: None, though he still wears his pistol holster
Service History: served with the State Police for 11 years, and as a member of the SP is exempt from military service. Commands 3rd Section, 12th Area, 9th Department
Misc: a dedicated member of the SNP, Gorobets' Section is now clean and peaceful. Rarely has he had to call for military assistance during his duties. Runner-up to Captain Olga Ianovich of the SS in Sabre Fencing in the Skgorrian Games. Can speak Skgorrian, German and Russian with varying degrees of fluency

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

Gorobets stepped off the plane bags in hand, and took in his surroundings. "What to do now?" he wondered

OOC-He is an ok suitor. Remember, you have competition.

Gorobets was welcomed, his luggage tooken to his hotel room and he would be escorted to his hotel room. When he got there, he could rest up, currently the Queen was meeting someone.

OOC-The Queen is meeting GL, but he is not responding at the moment.

OOC: only ok? Ah well, he'll have to pull something out of the bag on this one.

IC: during the taxi journey, Gorobets observed the landscape. Rather different from the swept plains and mountains of Skgorria he mused. He saw a couple smoking some sort of narcotic and reached for his holster by instinct. Abomination! he cursed, the Leader, in His wisdom, does not allow filth like that in Skgorria

OOC-He is an ok suitor. Remember, you have competition.

Gorobets was welcomed, his luggage tooken to his hotel room and he would be escorted to his hotel room. When he got there, he could rest up, currently the Queen was meeting someone.

OOC-The Queen is meeting GL, but he is not responding at the moment.

OOC: Why not fluid time it? Say that the next meeting is taking place after the one with GL, and then go back to that meeting next time he's on?

Oh, and I call next meeting.

OOC: I'm happy to wait, do your thing gents :)

IC: Gorobets saluted his escorts goodbye and smirked at the reaction his salute provoked. "Guess there aren't too many who are happy with the Leader and the Iron Rule" he mused allowed, and then busied himself inspecting the bedroom he had been allocating. Better than my quarters back home he thought, but then such luxuries distract us from our Goal. Checking he had the room key on him, Gorobets left the room and locked the door. He then got in the lift and headed down to the lobby

OOC: only ok? Ah well, he'll have to pull something out of the bag on this one.

IC: during the taxi journey, Gorobets observed the landscape. Rather different from the swept plains and mountains of Skgorria he mused. He saw a couple smoking some sort of narcotic and reached for his holster by instinct. Abomination! he cursed, the Leader, in His wisdom, does not allow filth like that in Skgorria

OOC-There is no people smoking narcotics, if you are implying they are legal in my nation. If I misread it, I am sorry.

With their permission to land King Godfrey’s plane landed at the airport and when it stopped he exited wearing the traditional garb of the Imperial nobility with his long sword at his side then descended the staircase to find waiting for him…

With their permission to land King Godfrey’s plane landed at the airport and when it stopped he exited wearing the traditional garb of the Imperial nobility with his long sword at his side then descended the staircase to find waiting for him…

The King was greeted by officals who welcomed him, and escorted him to his own personalised hotel room. He would stay there till it was time to meet the Queen. His luggage was already in his room for him.

OOC: Why not fluid time it? Say that the next meeting is taking place after the one with GL, and then go back to that meeting next time he's on?

Oh, and I call next meeting.

Do you have any more info on Fluid time?

At the hotel the King thanked the officials and retired to his room with his guards until it the Queen would meet him. Yet, for the time until then he would study about the country’s history and culture.

Do you have any more info on Fluid time?

OOC: Okay, it's like this. Fluid time is the theory that, as long as all involved parties agree, you can warp time to some degree. Hence, most of the storefronts consider 1 RL day- 1 NS Year, but for purposes of RP, that would mean this thread had gone on for years already. Which makes no sense. Hence, fluid time. Essentially, you can do the meeting that came after your meeting with EL, and then finish the meeting with him later.

OOC-There is no people smoking narcotics, if you are implying they are legal in my nation. If I misread it, I am sorry.

OOC: Well taking a look at your nation, it currently says "all recreational drugs are legal." Sorry, I was just RPing to what it said

IC: Section Commander Gorobets walked out of the lobby, whistling the Skgorrian national anthem as he went. He felt uncomfortable about not having a sidearm, and resolved to check up on whether he could get some sort of weapon.

A delegation entered the hotel, and Gorobets did his best to remain inconspicuous. Unlike that fool Beckenbauer, who walked around in full dress uniform the whole time, Gorobets was wearing normal civillian clothing and thus did not catch the eye of the dignitary or his guards. Look like Scandinvans he deduced, and then he eyes widened as he caught sight of the sword the king was wearing. So some weapons are allowed, I need to find out what

Gorobets approached an official, one who had escorted him to the hotel, and asked her if he was allowed to carry a weapon.

OOC: Why not fluid time it? Say that the next meeting is taking place after the one with GL, and then go back to that meeting next time he's on?

Oh, and I call next meeting.

OOC: Thats definetly a good idea. I cant be on 24/7!

They passed more pictures, till they came to the dining room. When they sat down, Sarah said ''How do you like French food?'' Within some time, loads of food poured out for them.

"Wow," remarked Grigs. "That's a load of food. I am not sure how to thank you for this honor." After both he and the queen had finished their meal, Grigs pulled his secret weapon. " I would like to ask you to accept this necklace, crafted by the finest jewelers in Greater Luftsgerden. The gold and diamonds come from mines in Hahwall, the pearls were harvested by divers on the Gaard Coast, and then it was crafted in Luftsgerden. I hope you will accept this as a sign of my gratitude and as a token of my affection."

Grigs then handed the necklace, wrapped in velvet, to the Queen.

OOC: Thats definetly a good idea. I cant be on 24/7!



"Wow," remarked Grigs. "That's a load of food. I am not sure how to thank you for this honor." After both he and the queen had finished their meal, Grigs pulled his secret weapon. " I would like to ask you to accept this necklace, crafted by the finest jewelers in Greater Luftsgerden. The gold and diamonds come from mines in Hahwall, the pearls were harvested by divers on the Gaard Coast, and then it was crafted in Luftsgerden. I hope you will accept this as a sign of my gratitude and as a token of my affection."

Grigs then handed the necklace, wrapped in velvet, to the Queen.

The Queen smiled and welcomed Grigs. She was amazed when she took the necklace, and put it on. ''This is a lovely necklace, I thank you for giving me this.'' The Queen said to Grigs. She then looked at him and said ''Would you like to go for a walk in the gardens?'' The Queen looked at her new necklace and smiled at Grigs.

OOC-We can try fluid time, how would I start it?

Seeing as the official seemed to be ignoring him, Gorobets returned to his room and opened his bags, beginning the tedious process of unpacking. He had brought both his day-to-day and dress uniform with him, just in case. Oh sod it, I'll just wear the uniform, I feel uncomfortable in civvies cursed Gorobets, donning his uniform. Donning his grey fatigues, he put on his hat and checked in a mirror to make sure it was tilted correctly. His jackboots were immaculatley polished as always, and his light trenchcoat slipped on over his uniform. Putting his service automatic in his holster, he put the holster under the coat and locking the room, went down to the lobby and left the hotel.
Now to the city centre, I must learn more about this place...

OOC: *Shrug* well GL's here at the moment, so not necessary right now. Just try and finish up with him, eh?

OOC: You can pretty much dismiss me whenever you feel like it.

IC: The Queen smiled and welcomed Grigs. She was amazed when she took the necklace, and put it on. ''This is a lovely necklace, I thank you for giving me this.'' The Queen said to Grigs. She then looked at him and said ''Would you like to go for a walk in the gardens?'' The Queen looked at her new necklace and smiled at Grigs.

"I would very much like that." replied Grigs, while thinking The necklace was a good call.
As they began to walk, Grigs said, " I am very impressed by your country. This has been the best time I have had in another country. The other trips I have had," he said with a sigh, "Well, let's just say I wasn't there to meet people and have a nice dinner." Quickly, the sounds and smells came back to the Colonel, and, just as quickly, Paul pushed them aside to concentrate on the gardens, and on the woman walking beside him. Grigs began to smile as they walked.

Just as he was about to step into a taxi, Gorobets realised he'd forgotten his wallet. "Verdamnt!" he cursed outloud, and went back into the hotel to fetch it.

Following the incident with his tail and the case of mistaken identity, Gulyakov wandered through the Staff Quarters of the Palace Hotel, and, having deposited several radical pamphlets around the kitchen and other such areas, exited into the lobby.

Admiring the artwork on the walls, Ivan failed to see the greatcoated figure coming towards him. They walked straight into each other.

"Oh!" exclaimed Ivan, "I'm... terribly... sorr... y..." he tailed off as he took in the man's uniform, the grey peaked cap and its silver Skgorrian triskele, the runic SP on his collar patches, the duelling scar on his cheek, the glass-polished jackboots...

"A fucking Skgorrian nazi bastard!" yelled Gulyakov, his eyes narrowing and his face paling with rage, "You unutterable swine! Filth! What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"Atopian filth, I know your kind well, I've sent many of your Black Brigade to the ovens" snarled Gorobets, staring him in the eye.

"I suppose you're spreading your lies, well you won't suceed" stated Gorobets with utter confidence, "You may as well leave now before these people kill you like the dog you are"

"Maybe they will, comrade murderer, but no-one in this damn monarchy is going to fall for your vile, filthy, disgusting brand of nationalism. You said it yourself," growled Gulyakov, staring back, fists clenching and unclenching, "ovens."

"We'll see, Bolshevik swine." spat Gorobets, literally in this case as he spat on the Atopian's shoe.

"I'm done wasting my time with you, enjoy getting arrested. It'll be a shame that I'm not able to the execution myself." Executing a perfect about face, Gorobets walked off, coat billowing in the wind

Laughing derisively, Gulyakov ran around to the front of Gorobets, placed a hand on his chest, and slowly, never breaking eye contact, screwed his hobnailed worker's boot across the glass finish of the SP man's jackboots.

"There you go, fascist," Ivan sneered, "that's how to damage someone's ego."

Gorobets' lower lip trembled for a second, then his expression turned into pure rage.

"UNTERMENSCH SCHWEIN!!" he screamed, punching Ivan in the gut and having the satisfaction of seeing him double over in pain. Aiming a kick at Ivan's ribs, Gorobets was determined to avenge his boots

Curled up on the floor, wheezing painfully, Ivan grinned. Exactly the reaction he'd expected, and by the black flag, it had been worth it to see the SP man's face!

Gorobets kicked Ivan again to keep him still, then put his boot on top of Ivan's head and used it as a stool to touch up his boot with some Scuff-Coat he had in his pocket. AFter a quick coat, Gorobets smiled and walked off, much to the bemusement and fear of the hotel staff who had witnessed the whole thing

More comfortable than the Korsun Pocket was, at any rate, thought Ivan as he got gingerly to his knees, and now we know what he gets touchy over.

Touching his face, carefully, to avoid hurting the boot-shaped bruise, he walked to the Reception.

"Excuse me, but could you tell me what room my dear friend - he was here just now, chap in a greatcoat, no sense of humour - is in, please, comrade?"

Gorobets whistled as he walked, a rather catchy tune that went by the name of "Sieg Heil Viktoria!"

"Oooh buffet lunch!" he saw, and headed for the restaurant

Watching the commie get the crap beat out of him, Jackson was not sure how he should have reacted. While he hated Marx and all his lies, Jackson found fascism and its psychotic leader just as odious. The lieutenant had no idea what to do. Either one or both were going to bite it if he didn't do something. But wouldn't that also narrow the field? Jackson had to get a hold of the colonel or he was definitely going to become a witness in an international murder case. That meant paper work. I hate paperwork.

"I see, thank you," nodded Gulyakov, "no, I fully understand, that's quite alright. Thanks again, comrade." Grinning once more, he left the entirely unhelpful reception behind, and returned to his bergen.

One man, one bag, he thought, the finest piece of travel advice ever. Rummaging through it, he found just the thing - a doeskin leather glove. White, of course. Excellent, this's just what the doctor called for... Laughing to himself, he strode away, tucking the glove into his overall pocket and slinging the repacked bag onto his back in one fluid motion.

Passing a uniformed man in the doorway, who was giving him an odd look, he threw a clenched-fist salute, and cried, "Long live the revolution, comrade!"

Now, Ivan mused, where's the nearest park... there's usually a cheap cafe knocking about in and around parks...

Politely returning the salute while thinking He's right. Reagan never really died. His dream lives on, Jackson continued on to his room, where he retreived his sidearm, as the locals seemed not to care, and his secure, handsfree phone. He checked to make sure the HK was fully loaded with .45 hollowpoints, and that he had a round chambered, but was still uncocked, and in safe. After doing this, he put in the holster on the small of his back.
He then tried to get a hold of the Colonel, but Grigs had turned his phone off. Great. Lt. Jackson left his room and went to find his..... comrade.

Gulyakov strode back into the hotel, having found a good dossing place in the main park. His conversations with the down and outs had been most illuminating. Now to find that Nazi pig-lover, Ivan thought, and play him at his own game.

"I say," declared Ivan as he slammed open the doors to the
hotel's restaurant, "where's that damnable cad of a fascist?"
"Here," replied Gorobets tightly, "what do you want, jew-lover? I thought I'd already taught you manners once today."
"Well, you see, old boy, about that..."

SLAP

The noise of the doeskin glove smacking Gorobets around the face (knocking his cap off into the chocolate pudding at the same time) reverberated around the dining room. Silence fell, and Gorobets' face grew steadily redder and redder as he shook with contained anger...

"I challenge you to a duel, sir! Choose your weapons!"

With great difficulty, Gorobets managed to resist pulling out his sidearm and gunning the Atopian down where he stood. Instead he spoke, "I choose swords, you filthy Atopian man-whore."

He then turned and picked up his hat, which had luckily bounced off the side of the bowl and only had a small amount of dust on it. Nevertheless it was still enough to enrage the SP man.

"Name the time and place," he spat, "and I will be there to finish you and your mad dog ravings"

"Swords, eh," mused Ivan, "of course! Tomorrow, at dawn, in the ceremonial gardens!"

Spitting on the fascist's face, Gulyakov turned and ran off, singing.

Gorobets ran over to a conveniently nearby Jew and punched him in the face, then ripped his skullcap off and used it to wipe the spittle that was dribbling down his cheek.

"Filthy swine," he muttered to both the Jew and the Atopian at the same time. "I'll see you at dawn."

The Jew got the wrong end of the stick and thought he would face a firing squad at dawn. He promptly fled to the mountains to eke out a solitary life in a log cabin, befriending all manner of animals until a logging company crushed him with a bulldozer on purpose.