NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: If you did not signup already, please do not enter. Thanks!

Also, please keep all OOC stuff in here: OOC Thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=13227206#post13227206)

IC:
It was evening, and the sun was setting to the west, casting a gorgeous glow upon Embassy Island as the Atlantic shimmered. To the east, the sky grew darker. Clear skies on this warm evening really helped to set the mood. Summit Hall, at the center of this island four miles off the coast of Bellevue, Vitolia, was decked out in lights and banners. High above the building, a grand Vitolian flag flew proud in the breezes that brushed the building.

The massive stained Curly Maple wood doors were opened wide. As you entered, hundreds of people - a mixture of white-dressed servants and Majestic Guardians in their white ceremonial dress code - filled the massive entrance; the servants busy running around finishing things up, the Majestic Guardians standing guard. Straight ahead, a grand staircase would be the welcoming mat to the many delegates who would be soon arriving to attend this summit. Off to the right and left, long tables filled with food would be serving these same people with samples of Vitolian and food from abroad before the summit would officially begin. Looking upward, and you would be looking three hundred feet up to a glass dome, the walls below the dome painted white with the words PEACE ~ HARMONY ~ LOVE in large, bold letters, the painting of a dove on either end holding up the end letters. The flooring was Padauk wood, quite a rare form of wood. In the enter, a massive 15'x15' Vitolian seal was placed into the floor, made of typical gold, accented by pure white gold.

Outside the building, the mood was a bit calmer as the sky grew darker and the lamps strung overhead from building to building of various colors provided a fun but relaxing atmosphere. Hundreds of Majestic Guardians patrolled the walls and cobblestone walkways. Along the walls and open beach, the Atlantic calmly splashed up against Embassy Island. It was going to be a great first night.

Paul Witmore, the Greal Minister of Trade and Commerce was in a small Boeing Jet that would take him to Vitolia in 1 hour. He had 5 armed bodyguards that had M16 rifles and Glocks. He brought a Glock with him also.

Commerce Manager Pyotr Grigorovich Ivanov was sitting on a Tupolev-444 supersonic business jet, travelling towards Vitolia. Alongside him were four bodyguards, armed with AK-2130 Assault Rifles. With his briefcase/laptop computer with him, Pyotr was to land in Vitolia within two hours.

OOC: Please assume I'm greeting you, and please mingle with eachother and meet one another. I gotta go do a few things, I'll be back in 1-2 hrs. The summit wont start til then or later - depending on how many people arrive by then. Sorry for the holdup.

The Vista Buena delegation, led by Director of International Trade Dr. Rosa Miller, State Minister of Trade and Industry Pieter Marais, State Minister of Foreign Affairs Dr. Anton King, and their entourage of Civil Service workers and Vista Buena Military Policemen as bodyguards, sits on their chartered plane while they had this conversation.

"Rosa, do you think this conference will be truly fruitful for us?" Pieter Marais said.

"Regardless of what will happen, we only gain from this. At least we show ourselves to the world, and let people know we exist." Rosa Miller said.

"That won't be bad, especially for my ministry." Anton King said.

*An announcement came on*

"This is your captain speaking. We have entered Vitolian airspace, and we will land at the airport in 30 minutes"

Soon, the jet landed, and the delegates walked out.

Aboard the jet was the CFO of Credit Star, a new division that WTI had created. Within the jet it was a made house of accountants and managers that where getting things ready for any potential accounts that may be created as a result of the meeting with every one around the world. .... fast forward.....

AS the CFO entered the meeting area he entered with his entourage of Accountants who had all been equipped with laptops and forms. Others had brief cases and cell phones.

The Vista Buena delegation, led by Director of International Trade Dr. Rosa Miller, State Minister of Trade and Industry Pieter Marais, State Minister of Foreign Affairs Dr. Anton King, and their entourage of Civil Service workers and Vista Buena Military Policemen as bodyguards, sits on their chartered plane while they had this conversation.

"Rosa, do you think this conference will be truly fruitful for us?" Pieter Marais said.

"Regardless of what will happen, we only gain from this. At least we show ourselves to the world, and let people know we exist." Rosa Miller said.

"That won't be bad, especially for my ministry." Anton King said.

*An announcement came on*

"This is your captain speaking. We have entered Vitolian airspace, and we will land at the airport in 30 minutes"

Soon, the jet landed, and the delegates walked out.
OOC: Not sure... are you waiting for me to pick you up or did you already have preplanned rides?

Hive Representative D-13 stepped off the plane, having just landed in Vitolia. He looked around, taking in as much information for the Hive as possible. Waiting in the airport for him were the current Diplomatic representatives of Voltumna in Vitolia. They welcomed him, and then returned with him to the Embassy, where he prepared what was to be his home for the duration of the Summit.

OOC: Not sure... are you waiting for me to pick you up or did you already have preplanned rides?

OOC: Well, are you going to be at the Airport?

Summit Hall, Embassy Island

Grand Marshall Exion walked through the large oaken doors, his black leather Military trench coat matching that of his advisor, Colonel Hedvorg. Exion could not help but look impressed at the luxurious interior of the massive hall, looking into the sky through the glass dome as the two slowly entered. Removing their coats, they both revealed their identicle black military dress uniforms, Marshall Exion's being rather highly decorated. The two men continued into the room, Exion surveying it as he sipped from his drink, looking at the words etched into the glass surroundings. Quite a different world he was in now. The places in which 'Peace', 'Harmony', and 'Love' lay written would have been, in Kroando, covered with those of, 'Strength', 'Endurance', and 'Determination'. Different cultures to say the least. The Grand Marshall and his associate simply stood at the side of the room, discussing some various topics, waiting for the summit to begin.

OOC: Well, are you going to be at the Airport?
OOC: Guess I should be, huh? lol
IC:
A massive line of black Chevis Exquis ultra luxury sedans trailed across an area of the John Wilson Internation Airport setup for those attending the World Economic Summit.

As the Vista Buena delegation began exiting their aircraft, the first Exquis in line flipped its lights on and began to roll toward the delegation slowly. About 15 feet away, the vehicle came to a stop, and out stepped Mrs. Marissa Thines, a 23 year old Japanese woman dressed in a formal, tight fitting black dress from Burlwood Uptown Clothing Company.

"Hello, and welcome to Vitolia." she announced politely while smiling. "You must be the delegates from Vista Buena. Please, come this way, step into the limousine." she finished as she the went to open the two rear doors.

Summit Hall, Embassy Island

Grand Marshall Exion walked through the large oaken doors, his black leather Military trench coat matching that of his advisor, Colonel Hedvorg. Exion could not help but look impressed at the luxurious interior of the massive hall, looking into the sky through the glass dome as the two slowly entered. Removing their coats, they both revealed their identicle black military dress uniforms, Marshall Exion's being rather highly decorated. The two men continued into the room, Exion surveying it as he sipped from his drink, looking at the words etched into the glass surroundings. Quite a different world he was in now. The places in which 'Peace', 'Harmony', and 'Love' lay written would have been, in Kroando, covered with those of, 'Strength', 'Endurance', and 'Determination'. Different cultures to say the least. The Grand Marshall and his associate simply stood at the side of the room, discussing some various topics, waiting for the summit to begin.
Before President John Wilson could make it into the entrance room to begin welcoming the guests, a Majestic Guardian approached the two men. With a smile, he stuck his hand out to shake, and announcing in a booming, yet humble voice, "Welcome to Vitolia. You are the first guests to arrive here. I can take your coats to hang up." he said, glancing over to a servant who had stopped for a moment. Giving a stern look, the servant quickly snapped to action, and walked over to the three, "Please get these gentlemen a snack." Turning back to the men, "I shall hang your coats up in their own compartments so that they do not mix with any others." he said.

He then noticed the surrounding people looking at the staircase. He turned around to see President John Wilson walking down the stairs. John made his way over to the men, "Hello, welcome to Vitolia! We're glad to have you hear. If the General did not inform you, you are the first to arrive here. Is there anything we can get for you?" he asked, also sticking his hand out for a shake.

Summit Hall, Embassy Island
Leaving the comfort and familiarity of the Embassy barracks, Drone D-13 arrived at the Summit Hall. He strode through the doors, and when he reached the hall,He shuddered and his eyes glowed blue. When he spoke, it was no longer in the dull tones of a Drone, but in the rich voice of the King himself.
'Greetings from Voltumna. May this summit prove fruitful.'

"Lower speed, captain!"

"Yes, sir!"

The Tu-444 slowed down to only around 150 km/h and Pyotr donned his parachute. The aircraft soared over Vitolian airspace, and a conversation took place between the pilot of the craft and a nearby tower. Pyotr, however, took no notice of this conversation. He shoved the door open, and with his guards running at him he jumped out the door with his tie blowing into his face. He straightened his suit and opened his parachute. Slowly, he floated downwards...

Frank Coripo had been watching the delegates arrive from a corner of the entry hall, doing his best to remain unnoticed. And it had worked thus far. However he felt it was time to go greet his fellows. He noticed John talking to one of the delegates, and decided to make his entrance. Rising up to his full height of 6'8" he strode towards the small group, his wide shoulders thrown back. As he neared, his face broke into a smile.

"Hello John, fancy place you got here. And who do we have the pleasure of having here?" He asked lightly.

Summit Hall, Embassy Island
Leaving the comfort and familiarity of the Embassy barracks, Drone D-13 arrived at the Summit Hall. He strode through the doors, and when he reached the hall,He shuddered and his eyes glowed blue. When he spoke, it was no longer in the dull tones of a Drone, but in the rich voice of the King himself.
'Greetings from Voltumna. May this summit prove fruitful.'
Vice President Philip Hunt made his way through the masses of servants and Majestic Guardians to D-13. "Hello D-13, welcome to Vitolia!" he said, welcoming him. A servant rushed over, "May I get you a drink?" the young man, 19 years of age, asked.

"Lower speed, captain!"

"Yes, sir!"

The Tu-444 slowed down to only around 150 km/h and Pyotr donned his parachute. The aircraft soared over Vitolian airspace, and a conversation took place between the pilot of the craft and a nearby tower. Pyotr, however, took no notice of this conversation. He shoved the door open, and with his guards running at him he jumped out the door with his tie blowing into his face. He straightened his suit and opened his parachute. Slowly, he floated downwards...
OOC: Are you over Embassy Island, or where?

Vice President Philip Hunt made his way through the masses of servants and Majestic Guardians to D-13. "Hello D-13, welcome to Vitolia!" he said, welcoming him. A servant rushed over, "May I get you a drink?" the young man, 19 years of age, asked.
"Yes, Thank you. Water will be sufficient" he said to the servant, the blue glow fading from his eyes as the King was called away, far back in Hyperion. "The King will return when the summit begins in earnest. For now, I am instructed to make 'small talk'" he announced to the room in general.

[OOC: Yer, I'm floating over Embassy Island and I'm probably going to injure myself landing on a limousine.]

Frank Coripo had been watching the delegates arrive from a corner of the entry hall, doing his best to remain unnoticed. And it had worked thus far. However he felt it was time to go greet his fellows. He noticed John talking to one of the delegates, and decided to make his entrance. Rising up to his full height of 6'8" he strode towards the small group, his wide shoulders thrown back. As he neared, his face broke into a smile.

"Hello John, fancy place you got here. And who do we have the pleasure of having here?" He asked lightly.
"Well hey there Frank, it's good seeing you. Thank you, we're quite proud of the building. Finally, she gets her maden summit." John said, smiling, "And I believe this is Grand Marshall Exion, am I correct?"

A Tu-214 marked "President of Kansiov" tounched down on the runway of John Wilson Int'l Airport. Its escorts, four Su-47s, touched down moments later behind it. The 54 Year old man stepped out of the Aircraft, it would be his last International Summit as Kansiovian President before he steps down, beside him is Yuri Forlevski a major candidate that will lead Attontov's current party, the Kansiovian Democratic Union to victory.

"Lower speed, captain!"

"Yes, sir!"

The Tu-444 slowed down to only around 150 km/h and Pyotr donned his parachute. The aircraft soared over Vitolian airspace, and a conversation took place between the pilot of the craft and a nearby tower. Pyotr, however, took no notice of this conversation. He shoved the door open, and with his guards running at him he jumped out the door with his tie blowing into his face. He straightened his suit and opened his parachute. Slowly, he floated downwards...
"What the fuck?" one of the Majestic Guardians said slowly, confused at the sight he was seeing a few thousand feet into the air. "What the hell is that?!" he yelled, causing a stir.

Inside, the Majestic Guardians slammed the doors closed, and sounded an alarm. The General ran a few steps up on the stairs and announced loudly, "Ladies and Gentlemen, there's an unidentified object making its way towards the island. We ask everyone to made your way through the two doors on the sides of the stairway here for your safety! Thank you!" With that, the Majestic Guardians prepared their guns to guard all the people within the building, unsure of what was making its way down towards the island.

"Yes, Thank you. Water will be sufficient" he said to the servant, the blue glow fading from his eyes as the King was called away, far back in Hyperion. "The King will return when the summit begins in earnest. For now, I am instructed to make 'small talk'" he announced to the room in general.
"I will get you water. Just one moment." he said before making his way for a glass of ice water. "I'm curious to know. Do you hear and comprehend everything that is going on when your King speaks through you?" he asked. The servant quickly returned with the glass of water, the glass itself made of crystal.

The next Chevis Exquis turned its lights on and rolled forward slowly. Several feet from the two men, the vehicle stopped. Stepping out of the back was Mr. Todd Black, a 68 year old Vitolian delegate. His somber look extended into his voice as he began to speak, "Welcome to Vitolia. We will be taking you to Summit Hall. Let me open the doors for you." he finished before opening the rear doors of the vehicle. "Please, take a seat."

"Ah, thank you. By the way, this is Yuri Forlevski. This is really a small yet lovely country!"

Pyotr floated down, and his face froze in horror as he saw the Majestic Guardians prepared to defend himself against him. Nearing the ground, he unlatched his parachute a bit too early and he accelerated towards a parked limousine. His feet landed on the limousine, crushing part of the metal, and the metal, which snagged his pant leg, threw him off balance and caused him to tumble off of the damaged limousine. Oddly, his clothing was not damaged in any way, shape, or form.

A Tu-214 marked "President of Kansiov" tounched down on the runway of John Wilson Int'l Airport. Its escorts, four Su-47s, touched down moments later behind it. The 54 Year old man stepped out of the Aircraft, it would be his last International Summit as Kansiovian President before he steps down, beside him is Yuri Forlevski a major candidate that will lead Attontov's current party, the Kansiovian Democratic Union to victory.
The next Chevis Exquis turned its lights on and rolled forward slowly. Several feet from the two men, the vehicle stopped. Stepping out of the back was Mr. Todd Black, a 68 year old Vitolian delegate. His somber look extended into his voice as he began to speak, "Welcome to Vitolia. We will be taking you to Summit Hall. Let me open the doors for you." he finished before opening the rear doors of the vehicle. "Please, take a seat."

Pyotr floated down, and his face froze in horror as he saw the Majestic Guardians prepared to defend himself against him. Nearing the ground, he unlatched his parachute a bit too early and he accelerated towards a parked limousine. His feet landed on the limousine, crushing part of the metal, and the metal, which snagged his pant leg, threw him off balance and caused him to tumble off of the damaged limousine. Oddly, his clothing was not damaged in any way, shape, or form.
Instantly, about 25 Majestic Guardians rushed over to the man, grabbing him and quickly patting him down. "Announce yourself!" a Commander ordered in a very deep, rough voice.

"Ah, thank you. By the way, this is Yuri Forlevski. This is really a small yet lovely country!"
Todd smiled, "Why thank you. It is a smaller country, yes, but one that we are proud of, and has served us with. However, with the recent population boom, we've got quite the problem we've never had before with it starting to become quite crowded.

Pyotr, bruised, attempted to stand up. He grabbed the side of the limousine, and supported himself. He took heavy breaths, and took out his briefcase. Inside were documents that identified him as the leader of the Stoklomolvi Department of Commerce. Gasping, he stabilised himself.

"I will get you water. Just one moment." he said before making his way for a glass of ice water. "I'm curious to know. Do you hear and comprehend everything that is going on when your King speaks through you?" he asked. The servant quickly returned with the glass of water, the glass itself made of crystal.
"Why yes I do. It is like I'm watching television, except I cannot move while I'm doing it." answered the Drone, gratefully accepting the water. "It does, however, make me rather thirsty."

Pyotr, bruised, attempted to stand up. He grabbed the side of the limousine, and supported himself. He took heavy breaths, and took out his briefcase. Inside were documents that identified him as the leader of the Stoklomolvi Department of Commerce. Gasping, he stabilised himself.
The commander took the briefcase. While most of the MG's stood guard by the man, the commander and a few MG's went to the beach incase of any explosives. He slowly opened it. After a couple moments, he returned.

"Men, you may relax." he said, then turning to the man, "Pyotr, please accept my apologies. I am Commander Vice. We were not notified of your... arrival. As such, we are required to do what we must to protect those on this island, as I am sure you can understand and would expect. Let me help you to the building. And... Welcome to Vitolia." he said.

At that point, one of the other MG's radiod to the building the "all clear."

"Why yes I do. It is like I'm watching television, except I cannot move while I'm doing it." answered the Drone, gratefully accepting the water. "It does, however, make me rather thirsty."
"Hmm... interesting. Quite interesting." he said. At that, the servant butted in, "Would you like some hor d'oeuvres, sir?"

Frank had just nodded in the Grand Marshall's direction when the alarm was sounded. As he watched the scene unfold, he excused himself and approached the man who had just landed on the limo, one of the test vehicles of the new WCA Integrity. Waving the Guardians aside, he strode up to the man.

"Welcome to the summit. I am Frank Coripo, President of Flaming Souls, and I just had to make the acquaintance of a man crazy enough to make an entrance like that."

Pyotr stood up and laughed.

"Ha, I always thought landing at the airport was a bit too dull for my tastes. I decided to do something different for a change. My name is Pyotr Grigorovich Ivanov, Minister of Commerce from the Communist Dominion of Stoklomolvi. Pleasure to meet you, sir."

He stuck his hand out for a shake.

"What's that clown playing at?" The first words spoken by a Beddgelen in Vitolia came from General Indomartus and were directed at his comrade, Maharajapuram Garima, and referenced Pyotr and his dramatic descent.

Truthfully, Indomartus, war hero and proud Geletian Celt, was a little irked at having his thunder stolen. The Soviet Indians had just arrived aboard a five thousand tonne flying machine, a Red Dragon Class Wing-In-Groundeffect vehicle, which had skimmed above the surface of the Indian, Southern, and Atlantic oceans at several hundred kilometres per hour before rising thousands of metres into the sky for a short hop to Embassy Island and a dramatic water landing that shrouded the entire scene in a fine mist for several minutes.

The use of a Red Dragon rather than a smaller Dwrgi Class WIG ran counter to usual Soviet practice, but this was an economic summit and would be crawling with capitalists keen to discredit the Igovian Communist model, and Raipur felt it best to show off.

Thus far Pyotr had made at least some impression on the Igovians, even if Indomartus was irritated and Garima frustrated by yet more dramatic oneupmanship that her comrade was only going to end up trying to better in spite of her attempts to calm him down.

The other delegates that they'd so far seen were regarded by Garima with a roll of the eyes and Indomartus with loud scoffing. Guards? Assault rifles? Fighter jets? Why, he'd only brought his wootz steel saber because he didn't trust that the master-at-arms of his commune wouldn't play with it if he left it at home!

Indomartus, veteran of the civil war in Zholatska, had been promoted by his peers to the rank of General after leading two thousand Soviet Marines with light vehicles into battle to halt the advance of more than twenty thousand Cynapsian-lead orthodox Marxists with battle tanks on their side. The towering six and a half foot Celt, long hair flowing free about his caped shoulders, already expected to spend the summit dealing with corrupt capitalists and impoverished Leninists, and wasn't surprised to see their cowardly carrying of such firepower.

Maharajapuram Garima, a Punjabi woman, was a less high-profile figure, but her doctorate in Igovian Economics, gained at the 125 year old Panjab University, Chandigarh, was sufficiently impressive that her comrades elected her as a Special Consul to the WES.

[OOC: Stok, I had posted my President approaching Pyotr prior to your latest post, if you can fix that it would be awesome.]

Pyotr stood up.

"No, thank you, I am fine. I'll manage."

He arched his back, and then walked over to the magnificent building at a brisk pace. He waved at a Majestic Guardian and walked inside.
OOC: Stok... check Flamings post to you... consider my post happening after that...
IC:
"Hello Pyotr. I heard of your entrance." President Wilson said, chuckling, "I'm actually quite impressed. It just would have been nice to notify us BEFORE jumping so as not to make our guards worry of a possible attack - you're quite lucky they did not shoot you dead in the air... and something I will certainly be addressing them about later. Anyway, welcome! Can we take your jacket, or get you a drink and some snacks?" he asked as a women servant stood next to John.

The small Zaheranian airplane landed on the John Wilson Airport. Four men walked out. The Minister of Commerce was dressed in a dark grey suit and wore several ribbons on his chest. The Advisor was smaller and slimmer and was dressed in a black suit, without ribbons. The both body guards were dressed in dark suits and had the appearance of experienced soldiers. The men looked around, searching for any sort of welcoming comittee.

The small Zaheranian airplane landed on the John Wilson Airport. Four men walked out. The Minister of Commerce was dressed in a dark grey suit and wore several ribbons on his chest. The Advisor was smaller and slimmer and was dressed in a black suit, without ribbons. The both body guards were dressed in dark suits and had the appearance of experienced soldiers. The men looked around, searching for any sort of welcoming comittee.
The bright blue high intensity discharge headlights flickered on as another Wunderburgen Chevis Exquis rolled forward towards them. As it came to a stop, a young man, just 24 years of age, stepped out in his black suite. "Welcome to Vitolia!" he announced proudly in an excited voice as he walked over to the men, offering his hand to shake. "Welcome, welcome! This is going to be a great Summit! Let's hope on into our Exquis over here, I'll grab the doors. The on the way in, I can answer any questions you have!" he said.

The bright blue high intensity discharge headlights flickered on as another Wunderburgen Chevis Exquis rolled forward towards them. As it came to a stop, a young man, just 24 years of age, stepped out in his black suite. "Welcome to Vitolia!" he announced proudly in an excited voice as he walked over to the men, offering his hand to shake. "Welcome, welcome! This is going to be a great Summit! Let's hope on into our Exquis over here, I'll grab the doors. The on the way in, I can answer any questions you have!" he said.

The minister smiled and shook the offered hand. "Thank you. It is a honour for us to be here". He gestured to his men. "Get into the car, gentlemen".

Paul Osproff was not like most Belkans. He was a diminutive old man, no taller than 5'8" and at least 70 years old. It was said that he was appointed by the Alpha Mundus himself, when both men were young. His polite face shone with a grin as he met with the other representatives at the conference. He and his guard had arrived in a Belkan BMW earlier and had been warmly greeted. The old man shook hands, exchanged greetings with the representative from a few friendly nations, and waited for the meeting to begin.

A helicopter landed at Embassy Island. President Yon Lankin, Minister of Economics Ian Garver. and 8 bodyguards left it. They stand waiting for meeting with Vitolian representative.

Milliardo Tenenbaum was a man of perhaps fifty years, although he looked much older. His white hair was slicked back, and he kept himself propped up with a cane. He wore a fine suit. His eyes had a sunken quality to them, those of one who has seen much, and the man generally had an air of melancholy about him. Milliardo exited his plane warily, as all Tyrinians should have at least some healthy fear of flying. Exiting with him were two suited men, with sunglasses covering their eyes, with the only marking factor about them being a small rose embroidered into their front pockets.

Rena and Adel had arrived on time despite the turbluant take off from their home country. "You think they'll care if we brought our own drinks?" Rena asked

"They might after all, we are guests. We don't wish to insult them."

"Yeah I guess. Where is this?"

"According to the address, it should be right here."

They entered the building. "Are we late? Looks like many have assembled."

"That storm slowed us down considerably."

A blazing row on the plane after it had landed delayed the Elgregian deputation. Fieldmarshall Spoogis and the Margrave of Crosby had set upon each other. Spoogis had suggested the summit might prove a fruitful venue for arms sales. von Stimpelheim feared jeopardising the already fractious situation on Springfield Island were they to play the salesman with our island neighbours.

Amélie smiled her cheeky smile and calm was restored. All they had to do now was get to the summit and apologise for being late.

[OOC: Edited. Assuming that Pyotr's hand was shaken, life goes on :p.]

"Thank you, a glass of water would be nice."

He pulled off his jacket and folded it up. Then, he looked up and opened his mouth in shock. Then, he closed his mouth and covered his face with his hands, and dropped his coat by accident. Above, one Hind helicopter flew overhead, and one dozen Stoklomolvi Imperial Guardsmen parachuted downwards. Pyotr muttered to himself.

"Stupid soldiers...this is an economic summit, and now they show up."

Disgraced, Pyotr stormed into the building.

Aaron Barcona and Gustav Echendorf both walked to the enterence of the meeting, hopeing not to be late.

"I told you, if we took the 9:55 flight we would have passed infront of the storms" explained Gustav to his partner Aaron.

"Yes, but atleast we make it" Aaron assured him.

Paul finally arrived at the meeting, he told his guards not to do anything that might affect the meeting. He didn't want another Ball disaster.

The minister smiled and shook the offered hand. "Thank you. It is a honour for us to be here". He gestured to his men. "Get into the car, gentlemen".
"It is a pleasure meeting you. I am Dart Armstrong. We shall be arriving at Summit Hall in just an hour."

Paul Osproff was not like most Belkans. He was a diminutive old man, no taller than 5'8" and at least 70 years old. It was said that he was appointed by the Alpha Mundus himself, when both men were young. His polite face shone with a grin as he met with the other representatives at the conference. He and his guard had arrived in a Belkan BMW earlier and had been warmly greeted. The old man shook hands, exchanged greetings with the representative from a few friendly nations, and waited for the meeting to begin.
President John Wilson approved Paul Osproff, "Welcome to Vitolia! It is a pleasure to meet you. Can we get anything for you? A snack, or how about a drink of your choice?" he asked.

A helicopter landed at Embassy Island. President Yon Lankin, Minister of Economics Deron Lanlov and 8 bodyguards left it. They stand waiting for meeting with Vitolian representative.
A Majestic Guardian Commander approached and stopped the group. "I'm sorry, but as stated when you applied to attend, there are a maximum of five guards. Three of your guards will be required to leave." he said.

"Beyond that, welcome to Vitolia! We hope you will enjoy your visit and the summit!"

Milliardo Tenenbaum was a man of perhaps fifty years, although he looked much older. His white hair was slicked back, and he kept himself propped up with a cane. He wore a fine suit. His eyes had a sunken quality to them, those of one who has seen much, and the man generally had an air of melancholy about him. Milliardo exited his plane warily, as all Tyrinians should have at least some healthy fear of flying. Exiting with him were two suited men, with sunglasses covering their eyes, with the only marking factor about them being a small rose embroidered into their front pockets.
The bright lights of the Exquis popped on as the vehicle began rolling forward to the men. As the vehicle stopped, out stepped 82 year old Vince Robmen, a well-experienced Vitolian diplomat who had spend the majority of his earlier years abroad learning of other cultures and nations. He needed no cane to assist him, and infact was quite youthful in his movement. "Hello!" he announced loudly, "Welcome to Vitolia! We are glad you could make it!" he said, opening the two doors before walking upto the man and greeting him. "How was your flight in?" he asked.

Rena and Adel had arrived on time despite the turbluant take off from their home country. "You think they'll care if we brought our own drinks?" Rena asked

"They might after all, we are guests. We don't wish to insult them."

"Yeah I guess. Where is this?"

"According to the address, it should be right here."

They entered the building. "Are we late? Looks like many have assembled."

"That storm slowed us down considerably."
"Welcome to Vitolia!" announced a Majestic Guardian at the entrance. "You are not late, everyone is just arriving now. It shall be begining shortly." he said. A servant in his mid 30's approached the two, "May I get you a drink or a snack?" he aksed.

A blazing row on the plane after it had landed delayed the Elgregian deputation. Fieldmarshall Spoogis and the Margrave of Crosby had set upon each other. Spoogis had suggested the summit might prove a fruitful venue for arms sales. von Stimpelheim feared jeopardising the already fractious situation on Springfield Island were they to play the salesman with our island neighbours.

Amélie smiled her cheeky smile and calm was restored. All they had to do now was get to the summit and apologise for being late.
A black Exquis' lights flicked on, and the vehicle approached the men. Once it stopped, 54 year old Mark Jackson exited the vehicle. "Welcome to Vitolia! Let me grab the doors for you, and we will head to the summit!" he said excitedly.

President John Wilson walked to the top of the grand staircase. Switching on his microphone build into the collar of his shirt, he began to speak.

"Welcome to Vitolia! I am pleased to see you have all made it here. I'd like to ask that everyone begin to make their way up here and into the large room behind me. We will begin in thirty minutes. You will be served drinks and hor d'oeuvres at your seat. Please note that the seats are pre-assigned.

We will be taking an hour and a half tonight before heading to bed, and tomorrow we will begin this multiday World Economic Summit!

Once again, thank you for coming, and welcome to Vitolia!"

After finishing, he turned off the microphone and disappeared into the room.

President John Wilson walked to the top of the grand staircase. Switching on his microphone build into the collar of his shirt, he began to speak.

"Welcome to Vitolia! I am pleased to see you have all made it here. I'd like to ask that everyone begin to make their way up here and into the large room behind me. We will begin in thirty minutes. You will be served drinks and hor d'oeuvres at your seat. Please note that the seats are pre-assigned.

We will be taking an hour and a half tonight before heading to bed, and tomorrow we will begin this multiday World Economic Summit!

Once again, thank you for coming, and welcome to Vitolia!"

After finishing, he turned off the microphone and disappeared into the room.

Paul Witmore listened to the speech with great interest, he hoped that Vitolia would be a World Power, so Greal would continue to be allies with.

[OOC: Edited. Assuming that Pyotr's hand was shaken, life goes on :p.]

"Thank you, a glass of water would be nice."

He pulled off his jacket and folded it up. Then, he looked up and opened his mouth in shock. Then, he closed his mouth and covered his face with his hands, and dropped his coat by accident. Above, one Hind helicopter flew overhead, and one dozen Stoklomolvi Imperial Guardsmen parachuted downwards. Pyotr muttered to himself.

"Stupid soldiers...this is an economic summit, and now they show up."

Disgraced, Pyotr stormed into the building.
The glass of water was retreived for Pyotr, "Anything else I can get for you, sir?" the servant asked, quickly grabbing the jacket and brushing it off.
-----------------------
The Majestic Guardians approached the dozen Stoklomolvi Imperial Guardsmen. "We're sorry, however the rules in which your government agreed to require no more than five guards here on the island. We will need to have seven of you leave the island promptly.

Aaron Barcona and Gustav Echendorf both walked to the enterence of the meeting, hopeing not to be late.

"I told you, if we took the 9:55 flight we would have passed infront of the storms" explained Gustav to his partner Aaron.

"Yes, but atleast we make it" Aaron assured him.
"Welcome to Vitolia!" announced a Majestic Guardian as the two entered the building. A servant quickly approached, "May I get you a drink or any hor d'oeuvres?" the young man asked.

Paul finally arrived at the meeting, he told his guards not to do anything that might affect the meeting. He didn't want another Ball disaster.
"Welcome to Vitolia!" said Mark Wilson, a Vitolian diplomat as Paul entered the building. "We're glad you could make it. Can we get you a drink or any hor d'oeuvres?" he asked as a servant stood next to him.

"Welcome to Vitolia!" said Mark Wilson, a Vitolian diplomat as Paul entered the building. "We're glad you could make it. Can we get you a drink or any hor d'oeuvres?" he asked as a servant stood next to him.

"A hor d'oeuvres would be nice."said Paul smiling,"So I am quite happy that Vitolia has good relations with Greal, we hope to increase trade with your country soon."

"A hor d'oeuvres would be nice."said Paul smiling,"So I am quite happy that Vitolia has good relations with Greal, we hope to increase trade with your country soon."
The young man quickly went to fetch a variety of hor d'oeuvres for the guest, Paul. While the servant was off doing so, Mark continued their conversation.

"Thank you! We, too, are glad that our relations are growing strong. We certainly look forward to future trade, economic ties, and, indeed, a future alliance that shall grow and prosper in strength and friendship. It will greatly benefit both of our nations on all fronts." Mark said.

"Oh, and where's my manners? I'm Mark Wilson, a diplomat of Vitolia. You are?"

Director of International TradeDr. Rosa Miller, State Minister of Trade and Industry Pieter Marais, and State Minister of Foreign Affairs Dr. Anton King enters the summit hall, and walked up to the Vitolian delegates to thank them for inviting Vista Buena to the conference.

Director of International TradeDr. Rosa Miller, State Minister of Trade and Industry Pieter Marais, and State Minister of Foreign Affairs Dr. Anton King enters the summit hall, and walked up to the Vitolian delegates to thank them for inviting Vista Buena to the conference.
"Hello! Welcome to Vitolia! We are glad you could make it! I'm Ty Greaton, one of the Vitolian ambassadors stationed here on Embassy Island. How was your trip in?" he asked. "And, can we get you some hor d'oeuvres or a drink?" A servant stood ready next to them.

The young man quickly went to fetch a variety of hor d'oeuvres for the guest, Paul. While the servant was off doing so, Mark continued their conversation.

"Thank you! We, too, are glad that our relations are growing strong. We certainly look forward to future trade, economic ties, and, indeed, a future alliance that shall grow and prosper in strength and friendship. It will greatly benefit both of our nations on all fronts." Mark said.

"Oh, and where's my manners? I'm Mark Wilson, a diplomat of Vitolia. You are?"

"I'm Paul Witmore, Greal Minister of Trade and Commerce. The president wanted to come, but she was busy with her wedding."said Paul who was annoyed about saying that.

A Majestic Guardian Commander approached and stopped the group. "I'm sorry, but as stated when you applied to attend, there are a maximum of five guards. Three of your guards will be required to leave." he said.

"Beyond that, welcome to Vitolia! We hope you will enjoy your visit and the summit!"

Thank you!-said President Yon Lankin.-When will the summit start?

(3 guards left the Vitolia)

"Welcome to Vitolia!" announced a Majestic Guardian as the two entered the building. A servant quickly approached, "May I get you a drink or any hor d'oeuvres?" the young man asked.

"Yes, I would like a bit of wine please," replied Gustav.

"And I would like a margarita," added Aaron.

The bright lights of the Exquis popped on as the vehicle began rolling forward to the men. As the vehicle stopped, out stepped 82 year old Vince Robmen, a well-experienced Vitolian diplomat who had spend the majority of his earlier years abroad learning of other cultures and nations. He needed no cane to assist him, and infact was quite youthful in his movement. "Hello!" he announced loudly, "Welcome to Vitolia! We are glad you could make it!" he said, opening the two doors before walking upto the man and greeting him. "How was your flight in?" he asked.

Tenenbaum thought for a moment. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. "The flight was acceptable," he said in a slow, deep voice, "Although I would have rather sailed. I don't trust these jets."

He tapped his cane once. "I presume you are here to escort us to the assembly hall?"

President John Wilson approved Paul Osproff, "Welcome to Vitolia! It is a pleasure to meet you. Can we get anything for you? A snack, or how about a drink of your choice?" he asked.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. President" said Paul, "a glass of water would be lovely. I must say, this building is quite nice. I look foreward to getting to know you as the summit progresses, and assure you that though our Imperium may seem like an unlikley trade partner, we are in fact quite excited to see how our nations can help each other." After meeting the President, Paul saw Aaron Barcona from Zoingo. "Good to see you again, Mr. Barcona. I am Paul Osproff from the Imperium of Belkaros. The Emperor himself told me to tell you to pass the word to your government that the papers were being drawn up to formalize the Alliance between our nations. I look foreward to seeing you later."

"It is a pleasure meeting you. I am Dart Armstrong. We shall be arriving at Summit Hall in just an hour."

"Johann Reichhart. A pleasure to meet you, mr Armstrong. How many other delegates have arrived?"

"I'm Paul Witmore, Greal Minister of Trade and Commerce. The president wanted to come, but she was busy with her wedding."said Paul who was annoyed about saying that.
"I can understand that, personal issues do come up. Alas, you are here and we shall make the best of that. Did you need anything to drink?" he asked.

Thank you!-said President Yon Lankin.-When will the summit start?

(3 guards left the Vitolia)
"We will be starting in just a few moments now that people are arriving in large numbers." he said.

"Yes, I would like a bit of wine please," replied Gustav.

"And I would like a margarita," added Aaron.
The young women rushed off to grab their drinks. A moment later she returned, "Here you are, sir." he said, handing each of them their requested drink. "Can I get you anything else?"

Tenenbaum thought for a moment. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. "The flight was acceptable," he said in a slow, deep voice, "Although I would have rather sailed. I don't trust these jets."

He tapped his cane once. "I presume you are here to escort us to the assembly hall?"
"Heh, I understand that. I, myself, am the same way. Alas, yes, I am here to wisk you off to the Hall!" he said with a smile. "Grab a seat and we'll head out!"

The young women rushed off to grab their drinks. A moment later she returned, "Here you are, sir." he said, handing each of them their requested drink. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Yes please," Gustav replied as he siped a part of his wine. "Can we see the president that is hosting this meeting? Im really wanting to see him."

"Welcome to Vitolia!" announced a Majestic Guardian at the entrance. "You are not late, everyone is just arriving now. It shall be begining shortly." he said. A servant in his mid 30's approached the two, "May I get you a drink or a snack?" he aksed.

"Shalom. Water would be wonderful!" Rena said.

"Two please, and perhaps some crackers with cheese?"

"Heh, I understand that. I, myself, am the same way. Alas, yes, I am here to wisk you off to the Hall!" he said with a smile. "Grab a seat and we'll head out!"

"Very well," the elderly man replied, "Lead the way."

"Hello! Welcome to Vitolia! We are glad you could make it! I'm Ty Greaton, one of the Vitolian ambassadors stationed here on Embassy Island. How was your trip in?" he asked. "And, can we get you some hor d'oeuvres or a drink?" A servant stood ready next to them.

"Ambassador Greaton, the trip in was very pleasant. We loved what we have seen so far from our plane. The nation looks very stunning." Dr. Anton King said.

"Some lemonades would be great" Dr. Miller said to the servant. "Thank you so much"

"I can understand that, personal issues do come up. Alas, you are here and we shall make the best of that. Did you need anything to drink?" he asked.

"A vodka is fine with me."said Paul.

"No, nothing. Thanks. Erm, that would be all."

Pyotr bowed, gently took the glass of water, and sipped from it. He looked at the Imperial Guardsmen, who were arguing with the Majestic Guardians about something.
-----------------
"I told you, we are here to PROTECT the people in this SUMMIT."

"Sir, we-"

"SHUT UP."

The Imperial Guardsmen argued about themselves until the leader sighed and let the issue go. He and six others ran off towards the landing site of the Hind helicopter, jumped in, and flew off. The five others stood around, looking about sheepishly.

General Indomartus and Maharajapuram Garima had gone their seperate ways within minutes of departing their gigantic WIG vehicle, the towering Celt striding about aimlessly, cape billowing behind him with his long hair and sabre clinking against the buckles and broaches adorning his traditional Geletian attire, probably in search of a drink or a quarrel, while the Punjabi woman, wearing just as much jewelry and body art along with her fine hand-woven sari, headed indoors in hopes of finding formal introduction and worthwhile diplomatic intercourse.

Indomartus, humming Soviet anthems as he went, had already shoulder-checked several poor souls who mistakenly assumed that he would break his stride or side-step in order to avoid a collision.

After several hours of mingling and random chit-chat, Marshall Exion looked to the Colonel, and then to his watch... "When the hell is this thing going to start?"

Akira Sakamoto checked his watch again and looked out the window nervously. "Matsumoto-san, how long until we arrive at the Vitolian airport?"
"Not long Sakamoto-sama. We're actually about to start our final descent into the airport," Jun Matsumoto yelled from the pilot's booth. Matsumoto, pilot, driver, and bodyguard to the Sakamoto family prepared to land the small, private jet rented out to the government by Fujimoto Airport.

As the plane dipped into the city's airspace, Akira looked out the window and smiled. It was about time...

Akira checked his watch again, noted that they arrived 20 minutes later than planned, shrugged at followed Jun out of the plane to get to the summit.

Sakamoto arrived at the meeting with Matsumoto close behind him. Despite being over an hour late, nothing had happened yet. Sakamoto breathed his first sigh of relief since he had left Princess Princess.

Abukr Al Amin had arrived late to the meeting, though it seemed he was always late...the sign of a man forever distracted by his work the clock meant little to him.

Abukr Al Amin was a giant man, standing nearly a full six feet eight inches( 203 cm) and weighing three-hundred pounds(136kg / 21 stone) his skin was black as night and smooth as fresh cream, he carried a sweat scent of jasmine mixed in oils to keep his skin from drying. His hair well groomed but long, and especially long for a black man, his beard uncut for years but finely combed and styled to the middle of his broad chest. His green and gold trimmed Dishdasha matched the colors of Skibereenian flag, this was no accident he found it most appropriate.

He sought out a glass of water among the servers and was pleased to see that indeed his later arrival had not made him late for the conference...clearly these other delegates were as good as he was about schedules.

He would perhaps find some stimulating conversations in the crowd.

OOC: I'll get this going here in an hour...

Theld arrived late to the summit as usual; he seemed to arrive late to everything that involved him entering a plane or helicopter. He was a fairly skinny man at 180 pounds little of it fat because being fat was against not really a law but a tradition of military leaders to keep as fit as the soldiers. He had tan skin from sun and brown hair he kept fairly long but not long enough to reach his shoulders. He scanned the area with his icy blue eyes which most people in Ithsam had. Noticing the summit had not started and some might arrive even later than him. Adjusting the navy blue suit he was being force by the countries leader Saggo to wear he began to walk around the room looking for conversation.

Ladies and Gentlemen. Announced President John Wilson as he stood high on the Grand Staircase, Welcome to Vitolia! It is a great honor to be your host tonight. I'd like to apologize to you about the late start we are having. Alas, I hope you all have receive the drinks and hor d'oeuvres you've request, as well as your jackets hung up in their own seperate compartments!

We will be starting in just a few moments, so please come on through the doors that are open behind me up here. Your sets have been predetermined. Please find the spot with your name, and take a seat. You will continually be receiving drinks and hor d'oeuvres at your request.

Tonight, we will be having our introduction meeting, lasting about an hour. Then we will receive desert before bed. Tomorrow will be the first of the three full days of the World Economic Summit.

Alas, once again, it is a great pleasure to be your host, welcome to Vitolia, and make yourself comfortable! We will begin momentarily.

After addressing the crowd, President Wilson disappeared into the room and behind the screen at the front of the large, circular room which could hold upto 600 people. The large oak stage in the center would soon be holding President Wilson.

OOC: "Predetermined"? Sit where you want, next to who you want, and that'll be "predetermined"... ;)

Theld went into the room not long after the anouncment. He quickly found his seat and asked one of the waiters for a water not bothering to see who was next to him.

After the announcement, Paul Witmore went into the room, he was still drinking the vodka that the servants gave him. He found his seat and sat down while asking the waiter for water.

The Vista Buena delegates entered the room after the speech, and sat down before ordering some water.

Ian Garver and President Yon Lankin entered the room and sit down.

The Zaheranian delegates entered the room, ordering water. The Advisor looked around curiously, while the Minister of Commerce just sat down, thoughtfully staring at the stage.

Aaron Barcona and Gustav Echendorf proceeded into the hall were everyone's attention was now being turned to.....

The quickly found their seats, and as usually, they were sitting right next to the Greal representative, Paul Whitmore.

"It figures that at every meeting that we go to Mr. Whitmore, that our seats are adjacent to one another." Aaron chuckled as he sat down next to him.

Gustav looked over at the next seat, apparently the person who was sitting there had a odd first name.....Pyoter.....he had heard of it before, but it didn't quiet ring a bell.

Aaron Barcona and Gustav Echendorf proceeded into the hall were everyone's attention was now being turned to.....

The quickly found their seats, and as usually, they were sitting right next to the Greal representative, Paul Whitmore.

"It figures that at every meeting that we go to Mr. Whitmore, that our seats are adjacent to one another." Aaron chuckled as he sat down next to him.

Gustav looked over at the next seat, apparently the person who was sitting there had a odd first name.....Pyoter.....he had heard of it before, but it didn't quiet ring a bell.

"Well we are in the same region."said Paul who had heard them say the comment. Paul's guards were still somewhere....

After seeing Akira Sakamoto to his seat, Jun Matsumoto departed for some well-earned sightseeing. Sakamoto-sama in the meantime, sat down and asked the waiter for some water

Pyotr ran about the halls of the building, looking for the location where his seat was to be at. Then, he found the conference hall, and entered the room. He found a seat on the opposite side of the room with a small sign on the seat that said, "Reserved for CM Pyotr". He smiled, took the sign off the seat, and sat down. He sipped some of the water.

As people made their way to their seats, President Wilson peaked around the tall white wall that has big gleaming silver letters on it saying

Summit Hall
Embassy Island - Vitolia

"Well, people are making their way to their seats. This good be good." President Wilson spoke to some of his aids. Even though he was excited, he was also a bit nervous, this being his first such meeting in which there was expected to be over 30 nations here from across the globe. It was clear in his anxious eyes, and from the light that glissoned off his sweaty forehead.

"John, you're going to kick some ass out their. Today, under you, marks the day Vitolia will truly be marked as an economic powerhouse - albeit underrated by many of the larger nations. None the less, that means nothing when we have one of the fastest growing economics the world over. And it is thanks to you, John, for getting us into the world stage and setting up our economy and companies to succeed on the international level." Rob, President Wilson's economic righthand man, said.

Grand Marshall Exion made his way to his seat, carrying in his hand his half filled glass of champagne, holding in the other several economic reports and papers of the sort. Kroando was here primarily to find new regions from which to extract natural resources for minimal cost, while funding this project with arms sales. Exion had vested intrest in the economic growth of Kroando not only due to his high governmental position, but due to the large check Mr. Honvorg sent him every month. Mr. Honvorg being the most powerful Korporate Giant in Kroando, his machinery, industrial goods, processed steel and weapons spanning the globe over. One thing he always needed however, was raw goods. Exion had it in his power to obtain them.

Har Kon Exion, the Grand Marshall's proper name pulled out his seat and set down his glass, taking his seat in a rather relaxed manner. Unusual of the old Noble Class of Kroando, of which Exion was a part. The Title 'Kon' was much like that of 'Von' in the German Language, it was used by the old noble class, and has but lost all importance in the modern world. Exion took a final sip from his glass, and awaited the Summit's begining.

Theld went into the room not long after the anouncment. He quickly found his seat and asked one of the waiters for a water not bothering to see who was next to him.
"Yes, sir." the young woman answered politely with a smile. "Would you like ice water, bottled water, sparkling water, or hot water?"

"Yes, sir." the young woman answered politely with a smile. "Would you like ice water, bottled water, sparkling water, or hot water?"

Theld chuckled “Ice water is fine” he answered to the woman.

Theld chuckled “Ice water is fine” he answered to the woman.
"Alright. It will be just a moment." he said, continuing to smile before walking off to get his water.

Mr. Al Amin sat down pressed between a gentlemen named Akira Sakamoto and another named Har Kon Exion. As the two men spread to allow for Al Amin's bulk to take its place in the seating he gave greatings and turned on his hand held...the man loathed using paper and what was not retained in his memory was in his handheld.

He also readied the record function so he could review exactly what was said later.

"Gentlemen, I am Professor Al Amin from the Republic of Skibereen. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Al Amin knew academics did not always curry the favor globally that they did in Skibereen.

Mr. Al Amin sat down pressed between a gentlemen named Akira Sakamoto and another named Har Kon Exion. As the two men spread to allow for Al Amin's bulk to take its place in the seating he gave greatings and turned on his hand held...the man loathed using paper and what was not retained in his memory was in his handheld.

He also readied the record function so he could review exactly what was said later.

"Gentlemen, I am Professor Al Amin from the Republic of Skibereen. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Al Amin knew academics did not always curry the favor globally that they did in Skibereen.

Akira Sakamoto bowed his head and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you Professor Al Amin. I am Akira Sakamoto, Minister of Foreign Affairs from The Most Serene Republic of Princess Princess. May I ask what you teach as Professor?"

Pyotr checked his watch, and sipped some more of his water. He leaned back in his chair.

Maharajapuram Garima had been seated for some time, musing over the similar lack of urgency about beginning the summit as tended to plague Soviet meetings back in India, when General Indomartus lurched into the room. The Geletian Celt had taken a moment to lime his hair, turning it a sort of dirty blond and spiking it so that, on top of his six foot eight and a bit frame, he topped seven feet. Usually this was reserved for battle or parade, but Indomartus was not an experienced diplomat and concluded that battle tactics might be of some use in the event that he was called upon to defend Igovian Communism in debate.

Seeing the epic rate of water consumption in the room, Indomartus assumed that everybody was hitting the local clear liquor, and, pleased to see the meeting off to a good start, opened his hip flask and took a healthy swig of fortified Geletian wine before belching loudly and taking a seat beside Garima, swinging his big sandled feet up on to the table before him.

Pyotr winces at the belch and, annoyed, looks at the general with a scowl. He then goes back to drinking his water and reading The Art of NS War.

Maharajapuram Garima had been seated for some time, musing over the similar lack of urgency about beginning the summit as tended to plague Soviet meetings back in India, when General Indomartus lurched into the room. The Geletian Celt had taken a moment to lime his hair, turning it a sort of dirty blond and spiking it so that, on top of his six foot eight and a bit frame, he topped seven feet. Usually this was reserved for battle or parade, but Indomartus was not an experienced diplomat and concluded that battle tactics might be of some use in the event that he was called upon to defend Igovian Communism in debate.

Seeing the epic rate of water consumption in the room, Indomartus assumed that everybody was hitting the local clear liquor, and, pleased to see the meeting off to a good start, opened his hip flask and took a healthy swig of fortified Geletian wine before belching loudly and taking a seat beside Garima, swinging his big sandled feet up on to the table before him.

Akira, from a few tables away, hears the belch and wishes his niece were present to have a belch-off against Indomartus. Then he remembers he's at a summit and goes back to twiddling his thumbs. Damn, he thought, why didn't I bring my Sudoku?

Akira Sakamoto bowed his head and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you Professor Al Amin. I am Akira Sakamoto, Minister of Foreign Affairs from The Most Serene Republic of Princess Princess. May I ask what you teach as Professor?"

"Well, it has been some years since I have instructed in proper form. I do still occasionally lecture. My current active position is as the economic Advisor to the Executive Branch of the Republic.

When I was fortunate enough to be teaching I instructed in economics, global politics, and history."

He sipped his water.

"I apologize, the title of professor in Skibereen is never given up once someone has attained it unless formally removed for misconduct. I often forget this is not the case elsewhere ..." The large man grins "At home educators enjoy a certain status usually reserved Statesmen or popular culture icons. So I tend to ramble when given the opportunity to speak freely.

I digress. Please sir, tell me about your nation I am ill informed on your nation?"

OOC: Since I have no clue where Flaming Souls is for the intro, guess I'll go ahead and handle this part...
IC:
President Wilson had to do an impromptu speech, as it was clear that Frank Coripo, President of Soulia, must have gotten caught up with someone or something.

He made his way around the white wall and onto the stage, seeing many had taken their seats. He began,

"Welcome to Vitolia once again! I am President John Wilson. It appears Frank Coripo, who was suppose to do the introduction tonight, has been held up with somethings tonight. So here I am to begin.

As you know, tonight marks the begining of the World Economic Summit. We will begin talking about - you guessed to! - the world economy. But we will be going into detail on its stability and growth. We will also be looking at the balance of power in the world economy, and how it is changing. On top of those specific topics, we're also here to begin working on new and future ties with attending nations, and ways in which to improve the world economy.

Now, I'd like to have Joggs, who's waving over there to your right, walk around and have everyone introduce yourself as he comes to you. Your names, what nation you're from, maybe a little about yourself, your past, and your family, and last but not least, what you're looking to learn and do here."

Joggs began to walk around, arriving at the first person before it continues to move along.

Paul listened to the speech, then sent a copy of the speech to the Greal Times, he was sure that the newspapers wanted something to write.....

Theld watched as the person Wilson had indicated came over to him. Great I’m first he thought trying rapidly to come up with an answer to all the questions. To late here Joggs was and the microphone was extended to him. “I am Theld Gazroth head military advisor to Saggo Telior emperor of Ithsam. I grew up as a cousin of Saggo in the royal family but as the designated military advisor I was being trained and taught to strategize from the age of 10. I have a wife Kalia Gazroth and one son named Sannor. I am here to learn of how the world economics run so I may tell the economic advisor who could not be present today so Ithsam may emerge though a young country a strong one as well”.

Pyotr shifted in his chair while reading The Art of NS War, and then puts the book away. He then started "twiddling his thumbs" while he waited.

Returning Pyotr's scowl with an almost emotionless stare that fixed him throughout Wilson's address, Indomartus hardly twitched until after the first introduction.

Don't we have our own mics? He wondered, watching Joggs as he progressed around the room. And why doesn't that damn parachuting fool stop fidgeting and say something?

He then recognised the bouncing inflexions of his comrade as she rose to introduce herself.

"Maharajapuram Garima, and this is my comrade, General Indomartus, Special Consuls elected by the citizens of the Indian Soviet Commonwealth of Beth Gellert to represent their interests, as clearly expressed to us, at the World Economic Summit in Vitolia.

"I am here from a pantisocratic phalanstery -a democratic commune, if you will, in Maharajpur, Madhya Pradesh Soviet State, and have decided to pursue a career in diplomacy and inter-Soviet relations. My comrade is a champion amongst the Geletian Celts of India, and veteran of the Zhyolatskan civil war, where as a Colonel he lead two thousand Soviet Marine infantry and local irregular Igovian militias against an armoured force of more than twenty thousand Orthodox Marxists and halted their advance.

"We hope by coming here to represent Igovian Communism and to promote the message carried in comrade Graeme Igo's recent work, On Communism [link] (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=532748), dealing as we go further blows to bourgeois myths about the failure of Communism and to the dead-end of Marxist-Leninist orthodoxy with its inefficient planning and stagnant democratic centralism."

At this point Garima was brandishing a copy of Igo's work and soon offered it to Joggs, while Indomartus ceased staring at Pyotr and gave a few nods around the room.

"In fact" finished Garima, "Soviet India's is one of the world's largest economies, and, since the May Revolution of 1982, has earned and maintained its position as one of the fastest growing and, most importantly, democratically-operated examples of prosperity and equality on earth. We are keen to bring this progress and liberty to the attention of the oppressed and the deprived, where ever and who ever they may be."

Aaron Barcona and Gustav Echendorf proceeded into the hall were everyone's attention was now being turned to.....

The quickly found their seats, and as usually, they were sitting right next to the Greal representative, Paul Whitmore.

"It figures that at every meeting that we go to Mr. Whitmore, that our seats are adjacent to one another." Aaron chuckled as he sat down next to him.

Gustav looked over at the next seat, apparently the person who was sitting there had a odd first name.....Pyoter.....he had heard of it before, but it didn't quiet ring a bell.

"Not to interupt", spoke Paul politley, "but I feel I should introduce myself. I am Paul Osproff, and I am representing Belkaros. I hope to get to know both of you in the coming summit, especailly considering that Belkaros has become involved with your nations recently. I hope we can get to know each other better in the days to come, and I hope we can enhance cooperation between our nations."

"Not to interupt", spoke Paul politley, "but I feel I should introduce myself. I am Paul Osproff, and I am representing Belkaros. I hope to get to know both of you in the coming summit, especailly considering that Belkaros has become involved with your nations recently. I hope we can get to know each other better in the days to come, and I hope we can enhance cooperation between our nations."

"Thank you, may the same be for you," Aaron replied.

Gustav was bussy reading the daily economic section of the newspaper...wating for their turn to speak.

When the Gentleman reach Al Amin he stood with his broad dark bulk, his dishdashi flowing gently as he spoke.

The large man was made to seem even larger as the deep bass of his voice boomed through the microphone like thunder...the Skibereenian accent coming from this man of clearly unspoiled African heritage with an Islamic would seem strange perhaps even comical with the language being so heavily influenced by Gaelic, Old Nordic, and dialects from the Indian-subcontinent he sounded like everything but what he appeared. The man before him disappeared in his monstrous silhouette.

"Peace and Blessings upon all of the esteemed delegates here today. Peace and Blessings upon the great nations of each of the delegates here today and upon the world. I am Professor Abukr Al Amin, I received all three of my doctorates
at New Dublin University in Skibereen where I still hold tenure and remain at least in title Grand Chairman of the Economics department. I act currently as the Chief Economic Adviser to the Executive of the Republic. I am in attendance at this summit to further the economic relations of my nation and represent the office of the Executive in that mission. It is usually policy to keep politics as separate from economics as possible...I am very happy to be here amongst you all. Thank you." Professor Al Amin returned to his seat.

When the large Professor Al Amin sat down, Joggs reached Sakamoto and gestured for him to begin the introduction.

Akira bowed and said amiably,"Good evening to you all. My name is Akira Sakamoto and I am the Minister of Foreign Affairs in the Most Serene Republic of Princess Princess. I have no family of my own per se, but it works out just as well since my position is so demanding currently. Our country is fairly small with just over 200 million citizens, although our population is rapidly increasing. My purpose here today is to increase trade with the nations attending this summit in hopes of achieving a natural state of peace.
Sakamoto bowed once again and sat down.

After Sakamoto, it was the Zaheranians turn. The Minister of Commerce grabbed the microphone. "Good evening. My name is Johann Reichhart and I am the Zaheranian Minister of Commerce. This", he gestured to the Advisor, "is Christopher Meckel. I got this post because I was a general in our last civil war". He chuckled. "On the winning side, I might want to add. Anyway, we are here today to discuss the development of the global economy and to increase trade with all nations involved. Thank you".
He returned to his seat.

Pyotr stood up and walked to the microphone.

"Hello, all. My name is Pyotr Grigorovich Ivanov, and I am the head of the Chamber of Commerce of the Communist Dominion of Stoklomolvi. I am here to discuss the subject of international economic affairs and to increase the amount of trade that undergoes in between all of our nations."

He ran back to his seat and started reading The Art of NS War.

Then, Aaron rose and began speaking

"Friends, leaders, and nations one and all, I am Aaron Barcona, Head of Zoingo's Department of Commerce and Trade. I come here today to represent Zoingo in its continuous quest for wealth and commerce all around the globe, and to seek new partners to spread the wealth around the world. As of this economic summit, all of us sit here because we wish to see the same, and that in future generations, that we will know more about each other, and continue to have thriving economies."

Then Gustav spoke

"Hello, I am Gustav Echendorf, head of Zoingo Trade International, the largest international merchant company in the world, in over 120 countries, we basicly buy goods from locals, and sell them what they need. As such, we seek new partners that may thrive and profit from the business that we conduct every day. To those who would like to know why we take such a venture, it takes a bit of Zoingo history to explain. Zoingo, in its latittue region, from the early to modern age, had to import a majority of its goods that would come from furthur south, and with valuable goods in the region, merchants prospered, and then, a few decades ago, I founded this company to expand our goods and services around the globe. I hope that from this meeting, that we can secure a few more countries to support our company building in their country, so thank you."

Paul stood up and started speaking

"Hello, everyone, I'm Paul Witmore, the Greal M8nister of Trade and Commerce. Greal has the largest GDP in our region, and our trade surplus has topped $1 trillion. I come here today for Greal, to increase the amount of trade with the world and help other economies become bigger

then Paul sat back down thinking it wasn't much of a speech.

It would be fair to say that Al Amin was so far the delegate most interesting to the Beddgelen duo, being as the titanic fellow was the only foreigner that lofty Indomartus had yet encountered able to look him in the eye without craning his neck upwards, and that, as a disciple of Graeme Igo, Garima was a keen student of both Indian and Celtic languages and found his accent as interesting as the economic studies ahead.

Pyotr, meanwhile, shared the General's attention, as Indomartus had clearly taken a dislike to him on the flimsiest of justifications and, having taken a fair bit of the former contents of his flask, the Geletian was feeling the twitch that usually preceeds a jolly old pub brawl in his part of Soviet India. I bet he's a damn Bolshie! Indomartus, slayer of several thousand 'party-oriented' revolutionaries, mused on hearing Pyotr describe himself as a Communist.

Pyotr turned around to see the men from Soviet India staring at him, rather angrily. He glared back, and started "twiddling his thumbs". Then, he took out his copy of On Communism. He flipped through it, examining its contents, and finding it rather uninteresting he put it back into his briefcase. Then, he took out The Art of NS War and started reading it once more.

Theld watched as the representatives from the other countries waged their silent wars intimidation, analysis whatever the point of their glares and looks he couldn’t see how it would help anything. Not until he saw the Stoklomolvi representative began flipping through books did he remember the he was bored as well. He took out a small pad and began reviewing Ithsamnian defenses and training programs it didn’t seem odd to him that the chief military advisor looked at military affairs for entertainment but other people had commented on his odd hobby so he tried to do it a little as possible. Shortly after he stopped reviewing the files he began to get messages from Saggo about the arrangements they were making to colonize some island like he cared. He shut off the pad and began scanning the room again waiting for whatever was going to happen here to happen.

Akira Sakamoto observed the hostilities take place with a smile on his face. Although he was never one to start or be in the middle of problems, he always ended up being the mediator of the situation.
Sakamoto raised an eyebrow at the constant twiddling of thumbs coming from one of the world leaders seated near him. I think his name is Pyotr, he thought. Should I be offended? Is he making fun of me? Akira shrugged and waited for the next representative to start his blurb. Akira looked at his watch and thought, Only two more days to go...

Paul Witmore was starting to feel the weight of no sleep for 24 hours on him, he had not slept on the plane, now he regretted it. Paul continued to read the Greal Times as he listened to other representatives speak.

OOC: If you haven't dont your introduction yet, please feel free to do so, and we'll consider it before this post...
IC:
As Joggs finished his round, he made his way out of sight. "Thank you, Joggs. Now that we have a little information on everyone, I'd also like to apologize to you for not having microphones at each of your locations. It seems some of them have some problems, and they will be replaced by morning.

Now, I'd like to open the floor for any questions, and Joggs will bring you the microphone."

Pyotr, noticing Akira Sakamoto, stuck his thumbs up in the air (http://img371.imageshack.us/img371/3194/thumbsupag3.jpg). He then walked over to Sakamoto and pulled out another copy of The Art of NS War. He gave it to Sakamoto and walked back to his chair, where he sat down and started reading his own copy before deciding to read Jennifer Government instead.

Pyotr, noticing Akira Sakamoto, stuck his thumbs up in the air (http://img371.imageshack.us/img371/3194/thumbsupag3.jpg). He then walked over to Sakamoto and pulled out another copy of The Art of NS War. He gave it to Sakamoto and walked back to his chair, where he sat down and started reading his own copy before deciding to read Jennifer Government instead.

Sakamoto stared at the cover blankly for a moment, then smiled. He leaned back in his seat and started reading.

OOC: If you haven't dont your introduction yet, please feel free to do so, and we'll consider it before this post...
IC:
As Joggs finished his round, he made his way out of sight. "Thank you, Joggs. Now that we have a little information on everyone, I'd also like to apologize to you for not having microphones at each of your locations. It seems some of them have some problems, and they will be replaced by morning.

Now, I'd like to open the floor for any questions, and Joggs will bring you the microphone."

A 1.94 metre blond figure of athletic build rose from the Elgregian delegation. "My name is von Stimpelheim, Margrave of Crosby, a representative of the Confederacy of Elgregia. I'd would like to thank our hosts for arranging this summit and look forward to enhancing economic relations between the attendees."
He then sat, looked around, then spoke quietly to the rest of the Elgregian delegation.

A 1.94 metre blond figure of athletic build rose from the Elgregian delegation. "My name is von Stimpelheim, Margrave of Crosby, a representative of the Confederacy of Elgregia. I'd would like to thank our hosts for arranging this summit and look forward to enhancing economic relations between the attendees."
He then sat, looked around, then spoke quietly to the rest of the Elgregian delegation.
"Von Stimpelheim, you most certainly are welcome!" John said, smiling and nodding to him. "I'd like to thank you for your attendance! Now, what questions are there? Any?" he asked.

"Yes... question...", Marshall Exion called out. "Was there any planned discussion for this event? Propositions? Ideas? I was under the impression we would be hearing speakers on various economic plans...", he paused, "All I'm hearing are the names of people I really don't care to know."

"I'd be interested to know how long the capitalists in the room think that they have to live." Muttered Indomartus, prompting his comrade to speak up so as to move things on and avert a brawl.

Garima rose to speak, and was just opening her mouth when she stopped suddenly and took out a pocket computer on which she'd evidently just received a message. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "Perhaps this is a little off topic, and not what I originally planned to say, but I've just heard that the population of the Indian Soviet Commonwealth has just, in our absence, passed the remarkable threshold of ten billion citizens!"

"Ten billion freed, a few trillion to go!" Cried the big Celt.

Dr. Al Amin nodded to the Beth Gellert female at her announcement. His attention had been on them since the entering the conference room, this was not secretive...however neither was it open...cultural conditions in Skibereen cold find a man dead for offering a look the wrong way so Skib diplomats tended to be experts at subtle behavior...even ones over two meters tall.

Taking the microphone "First congratulations to the our esteemed colleges. Blessed your nation must surely be.

To be frank, it appears to me that my contemporaries at the other table Garima, and Indomartus are in representative of the largest and most powerful economic interests here. Combined surely generating greater economic strength the remainder of this summit combined.

This of course is not to diminish the growing and vibrant nations gathered here.

However, Beth Gellert and Skibereen in economic structure are as unalike as two nations can be for all intents and purposes.

Now Skibereen is a Capitalist Free Market, Beth Gallert is a successful Communist nation.

Apart we are full functional and both my self and our friends at the other table could walk out now and it would not be marked as an economic loss what so ever.

But, if you gathered nations can find a way to capitalize on both of our nations systems ...well we all open the doors to immense gains.

I do feel that politics should be kept at bay, while we concern oursevles with economic matters...if that is acceptable to my Soviet Indian counterparts I realize how entangled politics can be in Communist economics...I assure you I am not here to push a political agenda...beyond economic growth."

Sakamoto looked up and said, "Marshall Exion, I don't understand why you wouldn't want to learn our names. We are all interested in negotiation with out fellow nations and it is crucial that we at least know the name of the representative we will be negotiating with. Spare us the holier-than-thou attitude, please. It's extremely unnecessary and counter-productive.

"I'm Rena Usif I'm the Executive of State in Lerazi."

A small jet was crossing over the vast Hendin Ocean, to what is the ruins of the ancient empire of Herals. As they landed, they were escorted by jeep to a makeshift space shuttle launch. "Eye Caramaba!Why are we the only ones coming from another planet Linyo??? They'll probably shoot us down with their big space machines before we get there!" The (new) secretary of defense whined into Linyo Ying's ear. "We'll get there ok, with the new secretary of military, and all this new tech, we'll make it." As the launch pad prepared for liftoff, the 5 delegates rushed on board, and closed the laser-seal door, and turned on the B77 Booster gravitational engines. The rocket blasted up without any smoke. As it climbed higher and higher, the secretary whined more and more. After 5 days of waiting, the shuttle finally saw what was Vitolia. As they approached, a small hail signal notified the crew "You are now entering Vitolian Space Control. We will send 4 escorts to you, do not do anything ""Funny"" " Said the voice. 4 small fighters flew up beside the shuttle, and assisted until the shuttle had come 200 miles from the landing pad. The captain slowed down the B890G boosters, and allowed the ship to cruise for an hour, giving the delegates time to sleep before the great meeting. When the ship landed, the delegates climbed out, and immediately were escorted by Jeeps to the mansion of the Economic Summit... As they climbed into the meeting room, the delegates already present turned to see who was at the door. The East Ying Delegates moved into their seats and waited, the summit was about to start...

A Majestic Guardian ran up on the right side of the stage and made his way to the President, quickly moving him to the left. He whispered to John, "Sir... we've got an emergency situation with an ally. You're going to have to come with me..." President John Wilson nodded and the Majestic Guardian walked to the edge of the stage.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, there's an emergency I am required to attend to. Since it appears neither of my co-hosts are able to speak at the moment, I am going to ask that Theld Gazroth of Ithsam, and a good friend of mine, come up here and answer questions for the time being."

He then quickly made his way off stage and around the wall, out of sight.

I guess I’m a natural thought Theld my first political experience and I’m taking the hosts place. He stood grabbing the pad as he did there would certainly be a few questions he didn’t know the answer to he would simply message Wilson for the answer. He tried to keep his eyes forward walking across the room so not to see the stares that were undoubtedly coming from everyone in the room. Once he reached the stage he stood in front of the microphone “If there are any questions please ask”. “On the Kroando diplomats question there are of course plans on what we will be talk about but I had no briefing so I don’t know the plans I will message Wilson about the subject though”.

"Indeed" says Garima, with a nod to Al Amin, "politics and economics are irrevocably linked in Soviet India, as in other Igovian societies, of which there are just a few young examples abroad.

"It is a central contention of Igovian theory that democracy can not exist at all unless it is present in the economic sphere. Money is power, and it is only in light of this fact that we Igovian Communists pursue equality. In the world at large, a man with ten thousand dollars and one vote is not the equal of a man with ten billion dollars and one vote. We accept this as a fact of life, but see no need to surrender to it, or to any other natural or human tendencies that are directly or indirectly harmful to the prosperous liberty of mankind."

Having delivered the touchy-feely part of the introduction to Igovianism, Garima retook her seat just as Indomartus drew himself up to brandish some tightly gripped facts with his big highlander's fist.

"Politics remain key to the Igovian economy, true, but since we're getting through hundreds of trillions of dollars in economic activity every year, there has to be room for expanded outside involvement.

"Let me tell you how Soviet India produces its wares! We are Communists, and so property is solely the privilege of the state. Enterprises make use of state property, and pay a fixed value tax on the capital that they control through their democratic Soviets. Every Soviet is a council of the workers operating collectively a particular piece of state property.

"Now, these Soviets compete freely in India's simulated market. Prices are set by the state, raised and lowered appropriately to stimulate either production or consumption as required at a given moment. Our competition is nearly perfect. Goods are standardised owing to the use of common state property, and prices are equal, so nobody is deceived. It is up to a particular Soviet to work as hard as its members wish according to how much profit they desire.

"This makes some aspects of foreign trade difficult, and is our chief motivation, from a selfish perspective, in using events such as this summit to promote our methods abroad.

"We can not readily accept goods produced by capitalist free-market enterprises. It won't work in our economy, which is apart from the global market, causing Reaganites everywhere to desire for us what the bastards did to Yugoslavia.

"For a long time we pursued, as so many mistaken Marxian Communists have done, national self reliance. We tried to survive by only importing the raw materials that do not occur naturally on the Indian sub-continent and by exporting only what others lack and we have in plenty. Recently, though, the Soviet democracy saw fit to pass historic legislation allowing for the import of finished goods.

"There is but one barrier to entry. Goods must be approved by a special Soviet body as Produce of Socialist Labour. There after they are free to enter the Beddgelen economy, though they must adhere to relevant price controls. If, in your nation, a socialist enterprise exists, it may send its products to Beth Gellert so long as your socialist workers are willing and able to sell the product at the current simulated-market price. Some consumers won't buy it because it is foreign. Some will flock to it because it is novel, others because they earnestly desire to support the international revolution."

Garima was by now hinting that Indomartus should shut up and let somebody else talk, unsure as she was whether anyone had even understood the General's implications.

Al Amin raised a finger...then put it back down and grinned slightly.

"Fascinating, and fascinating enough I almost engaged in the political discussion.
However, I will save that for a forum other then this...but certainly a fascinating system your nation subscribes to indeed.

Here in lies the difficulty, ignoring my nations political structure the market is extremely free. I am reluctant to use the term capitalist, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The people decide what is of value and what that value by there demand. Commerce regulation for the most part is there to maintain safety and truly that has more to do with Customs enforcement then regulating commerce.

So for instance the only way Beth Gellert goods would be taxed or tariffed would be purely reciprocal. Our system is simple, and direct and the Government makes almost no revenue from it, hence allowing more wealth to remain in the hands of the people, the workers."

He sipped from his water glass.

"But this expresses my point very well, the benefits these young nations could gain from establishing some joint exchange between both our respective nations monstrous economies is staggering and in turn the amount of benefits our respective economies could receive form dipping into all of these much smaller markets is staggering. I believe it to be rather advantageous that only two truly super-economic powers are in attendance at this conference and that those powers be in such a state of economic opposition.

This will indeed be an interesting summit should the joint approach be taken."

It was now the turn of Indomartus to receive an update over his pocket computer, this time informing him that the United Nations has rated Beth Gellert's economy 194th fastest growing in the known multiverse... which actually disappointed him rather, as those damnable Nicobarese neighbours of his ranked 172nd.

Still, in this company the Celt wasn't going to miss an opportunity to brag, and quickly brought the report to everbody's attention.

Garima then returned to Al Amin's comments. She felt that he was trying to score points with the Igovians by distancing his nation's economy from that of the Commonwealth's capitalist enemies, but, well, that was fair enough, and she might do the same in his position.

"Despite our economically charged opposition to one another, it would be desirable for us to establish an unofficial agreement... a theory, at least, on a mechanism by which our nations could conduct meaningful trade." She said.

"Otherwise the old guard communists in the Soviet Commonwealth can only gain ammunition for their own theory that indicates the eventual coming of a final conflict in which non-socialist economies must be destroyed by the Soviets and their allies.

"Of course any operations in your nation's economy -so too the economies of smaller nations here- that can convince the Soviets that their manner of operation is socialistic are already free to sell their goods in the Indian marketplace, but it is the bulk of non-socialistic production that poses challenges still.

"Ordinarily imported goods in Soviet India face no tariffs or any such penalties, as we are committed to pursuing the ideal of perfect competition.

"I wonder if the Soviets might be convinced to allow non-socialist products to enter with the provision of a sort of penalty tax. I would argue that it might be used as a means of encouraging some export-driven foreign firms to restructure themselves along socialistic lines. It seems better than allowing the old guard to become more and more angry and the Soviets more and more militant."

"Message from Mr.Wilson I'm supposed to start quieting you down so he can start when he gets back."

Dismissing the suggestion of being quieted, though unconsciously, Al Amin continued.

"Well, I suppose one might argue that because certain apsects of our free market are Social there is socialism at work. Though Skibereenian politics have viewed the social market as the only logical and pragmatic market for some time.

So all products in Skibereen are partly the result of Social production and partly the result of private production. It is however in our nature not to beg, as it were. We have reached our situation by the will of people, if they had wanted a completely anarcho-capitalist market that is what it would be, if they had wanted Socialist controls so to would it be that. This is what they wanted.
That is of course more culture then anything." Now it was Al Amin's turn...

He removed a small device form his robes, the small screen gave a faint glow and he read... "Regrettable..."
He said as he closed the device and placed it back into the folds of his robe.

"I have been ordered to leave the summit. I apologize and I hope sincerely to perhaps have another opportunity to have a discourse with you. Currently, I have been ordered to abandon any relations formed at this conference. I believe in terms of your nation an exception will be made on my part. Peace be with you."
With that the large man rose from his seat and began making his way towards the door.

Akira watched as the large, talkative man walked out the door and thought to himself, Well, at least I have more elbow room now.

President John Wilson made his way back onto the stage.

"I'm sorry about the delay. It appears one of our allies has come under attack, while my co-hosts have, oddly... disappeared. As such, we will be dismissing for the evening until tomorrow."

“Thank you John” said Theld before walking of the stage. Man did I have no control there he thought walking over to a bar and taking several shots of tequila.

After hearing the dismissal, Akira got up and headed toward the conference room's exit. He dialed Jun's mobile number and asked him to come pick him up.

"Well today was a colossal waste of time," Akira said to Jun.
Jun looked off towards a man throwing back a shot of alcohol and said, "Hm. I can see that."
Akira looked at him surprised for a moment and smiled. "I think that's the longest sentence you've ever uttered in my presence."
"Hai," he muttered the Japanese word for 'yes.'
Akira laughed and said, "So much for that. Shall we go back to the hotel?"
"Hai."

Pyotr ran about reciting The Raven as he put his copy of Jennifer Government away.

"Presently, my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,
'Sir!' said I, 'or Madam! Truly your forgiveness I implore!
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came tapping,
And so faintly you came rapping, rapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' -- here I opened wide the door.Darkness there, and nothing more."

He muttered to himself until he walked outside where lights were shining and there were many people running around. He looked up to see a Tupolev Tu-160 supersonic bomber flying overhead, and then he ran back inside. Inside, he bumped into a pillar, knocking it over. He jumped underneath the marble pillar, and this, unfortunately, crushed him. He squirmed and writhed under the marble, and he was in great pain. However, the pillar crushed his chest, impeding his speech. He was only able to utter,

"My soul shall be lifted...nevermore!"

With that, he passed out.

Theld looked over as a man ran into a pillar knocking it over and jumping under it the he mumbled somthing Theld couldn't hear. "Well wasn't that an interesting thing to see" he said as John's employes ran over to help the man.

OOC: What's with the bomber? Also, sorry for how this got screwed up, I donno where FS is... and he was my co-host to help me run this. :(

[OOC: Airshow-type thing, never mind it. Alas, not much economic discussion, sorry to say.]

OOC: I'm sorry to agree, it kinda went backwards on me when BOTH of my fellow hosts disappeared at the begining, as they were to play big roles. :(

ooc: this is one of those "lalalala" moments. aaaanyway, how's life treating all of you?

OOC: high school=hell

ooc:So Vitolia, is this thing going to start or has it just failed miserably and we're not going to try to revive it?