NationStates Jolt Archive

Hudson Palace
Hudson
2000 Hours

"Your Majesty, you cannot possibly be thinking about attending that barbaric man's party!" The voice of Prime Minister Cavington, who had been invited to dinner with the Royal Family that evening (though officially speaking it was to discuss the budget for the coming year), pleaded with the young, handsome-looking figure standing before him in the Royal Office. "What do you mean 'barbaric,' Arthur?," queried the other man, who just so happened to be His Majesty King Richard VIII, the King of Prestonia. "He's a duly elected politician and he aligns with your own administration on several issues, most notably slavery. Very strong advocate of personal liberty if I do say so myself."

"That's just the point, Your Majesty," Cavington replied. "The Allaneans have too much personal liberty if you ask me. I went on vacation there once, when I was a younger man. Do you know what I saw there? People, naked as the day they were born, having sex right out in front of everyone! In public for God's sake! And you want to give their president the benefit of Your Majesty's company at his dinner party?"

"This may be so Arthur, but he's a Kingston Pact signatory same as we are, and it would be imprudent to refuse his invitation. I'm going, and that's final."

"I suppose there's no stopping you then," Cavington said resignedly. "When do you fly out?"

"In three days' time. As I'll be away my daughter Victoria will be regent, though I ask you do make sure she doesn't do anything imprudent. You know how teenagers are these days."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Cavington replied, bowing deeply before exiting the room.

His Majesty The King
http://wikistates.outwardhosting.com/w/images/a/a8/Family_Crest.jpg

Having received your letter of invitation, the purpose of this RSVP is to inform Your Excellency that I would be most pleased to be in your company for your dinner party. I shall be arriving in three days' time at Liberty City International Airport. I look forward to what will be my first of hopefully many visits to your great nation.

Sincerely,
HM Richard VIII
By the Grace of God and Constitution King of Prestonia
Emperor of Macao
Prince of Varland
Duke of Bermuda
Lord Protector of The Aerovan Waters
Defender of The Weak and Downtrodden
Head of the House of Preston
44th King of Prestonia

At the LCAX, preparations had been made. Namely, a separate runway, away from the general terminal, had been secured for the king, and a traditional black limousine had been brought in, decorated with Prestonian flags.

The driver's instructions were simple – to take off on Madison Highway – upon whih there was no speed limit, and straight through Liberty-City.

The 'City' was miles and miles of sprawl, created by the almost complete lack of zoning and planning. Few skycrapers were seen, but Kazansky's palace – the black spike of Minas Faerie, Tower of Freedom – was one of them, clearly visible on the horizon as the car took off on the 24-lane elevated highway, and the driver floored the pedal.

Minas Faerie

In the meanwhile, in Minas Faerie's famous Hall of the Living, the party was already beginning.

Alexander Kazansky, the President-for-Life, was sitting at a giant, resplendent chair at the head of a long table – or rather, perching in it with his feet folded under him, raising a cup made from the head of the leader of Antanjyl and plated with gold. Two large rubies glinted where Emperor Garf's eyes used to be.

The party hall was already filling with various Allaneans – men, women, humans, elves, Dohwar and even more bizarre races

“Greetings, my heroes!” - shouted Kazansky. - “Soon, my friend Richard can be here and we can seriously start this off!”

20km from Liberty City International Airport
1600 Hours

"Thank God, it's nearly over!" King Richard VIII sighed and tried once more to get comfortable in his reclining chair, only to be jolted from it once more by a bit of turbulence. "Dear Lord, I usually like flying but we've been catching nothing but hell since we left Hudson," he remarked to his bodyguard as he sipped his brandy.

"We'll be on the ground in ten minutes' time Your Majesty," the bodyguard remarked offhandedly.

"Well, at least there's that much to look forward to," Richard replied as the plane began circling for it's descent. "By the way Jordan, did you remember to book our limousine?," Richard queried, taking another sip of brandy.

"Yes my lord, the Allaneans are providing one. Bulletproof siding, tinted windows, Prestonian flags, all the usual accompaniments."

"Good, good. Now if we can just get off this damned thing, my day will have gotten much better."

Fifteen minutes and one hurried security check later, Richard and his bodyguard were comfortably seated in the back of their limo. Pressing the call button to the front, Richard said "Minas Faerie, Hall of the Living, and make it quick please. President Kazansky is awaiting us," before turning to Jordan, his bodyguard, and striking up a conversation.

"So, the driver seems like a pleasant sort," Richard said genially.

"Yes, not at all what I imagined," Jordan replied.

"Have you been to Allanea before?"

"No Your Majesty, but I studied their culture in university. Quite the liberal sort. One might almost say they have too many freedoms."

"Yes, Arthur was telling me as much when I got President Kazansky's letter. I wonder what the man's parties are like?"

"Couldn't tell you Your Majesty, but if Kazansky is any reflection of his culture this could be one to remember, or forget."

"Aye, only time will tell."

Aboard the car

The driver, of course, knew where to take his passengers – he's been hired by the Department of State for this very purpose. And so he stepped on it. The car hit sixty miles per hour in only eight seconds, and kept on going. The highway was designed for no-speed-limit driving, elevated above the ordinary city roads. The car was traveling at a level higher than the roofs of most Allanean homes, and the King of Prestonia would be exposed to the views of multicolored house roofs screaming past as the car breached one hundred miles per hour.

"Yeee-haw!" – he breathed out as the car continued to speed up, like a gigantic black bullet – "If no pileup ahead, y'all gonna be in the Hall in just about forty minutes, hour tops!" – he spoke with the unmistakable broken grammar of a man from Liberty-City – omitting articles and interjections and yet mixing in the slow drawl once associated with the Southern states of Old America.

And indeed, fifty minutes later, the car would spin to a halt at one of the entrances to Minas Faerie.

Hall of the Living

In the meanwhile, Alexander Kazansky was already having fun. He was flanked by male and female fans, his friends and associates sitting at the table, and of course, loud music playing.

Back in the day, Shufflepuck Cafe,
Banner ads, gettin' paid, ICQ, gettin' laid,
Back in the day, we knew Sulu was gay,
Munchin' numbers, runnin' lodes, monochrome displays.

"You know what this song lacks?" – the President-for-Life grinned at two particularly 'interesting' fangirls.

"No, Sasha, you tell us!"

"Here's what it lacks. See that pole there? It lacks two young girls making out on it with the music. Come on, Mariam! Go, Sandy!"

Mariam and Sandy proceeded to the pole. Mariam had just ripped her shirt off, and locked lips with Sandy in a passionate kiss – to the cheering of the guests of the Hall of the Living – as one of Kazansky's servants announced:

"His Majesty the King of Prestonia!"

Aboard the Limousine
The ride, though fast, was mostly uneventful. Richard in his younger days was a fan of fast cars and faster women, as any young man with a six-figure bankroll and celebrity status would be. Now aged 41, with six years of Royal Navy service, a family and two children under his belt, he was scarcely the man the tabloids used to love back in the day.

"Well, the view's impressive," his bodyguard Jordan remarked.

"Yes, quite. These Allaneans may not plan their cities, but they're beautiful nonetheless."

Hall of The Living
An hour later, the tuxedoed King and his equally well-dressed attendant stepped out of the car and into what could best be described as a fraternity social. Richard, drinking in the scene briefly, noticed something rather odd right off the bat.

"I say, those appear to be...but that's impossible....don't exist in real life," he sputtered, trying to comprehend that inhabiting this world were real-life elves. Richard was by no means a stupid man, and he had traveled the world several times, but he had never seen a living elf in his life.

After a short time looking the party over, Richard proceeded toward the front of the hall where President Kazansky, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, was located. After stopping briefly to watch Kazansky's two fangirls making out on the stripper-pole, he finally came to Alexander Kazansky himself.

"And you must be President Kazansky!," Richard replied enthusiastically, wondering to himself whether his counterpart's parties were all like this. "Richard the eighth, King of Prestonia, but for the purposes of this meeting you may address me on first-name basis. I must confess I expected something a bit more formal," he continued, gesturing at his clothes, "but ah well, I can still have a bit of fun."

Richard then grabbed a martini from the tray of a waiter circling the room, taking a sip before querying his counterpart once more. "Say, President Kazansky, are those real elves?"

"Oh certainly. I'd think some of the other people in the room – say, the fine Dohwar fellows over there (http://sjml.spelljammer.org/archive/oracle/200104/08-000015.html) – would amaze you far more, but then again, my dear Richard, Haven – and the world – has much stranger beings. There are Blubs, for instance, or Nekos. I think there's even a subrace of sentient killer whales out there. Elves? Dear Richard, if elves is the most surprising thing you see in the world, you surely must start getting out more. Why, there's stranger things. Take... oh, I've mentioned the Blubs already… take ZMI and their Gestalt. Take me, even. The world, Richard, is one screwed- up place."

"Ladies! Gentlemen!" – he stood up, refilling his skull-cup. – "King Richard is here! All pour your cups full! Let us raise them to His Majesty King Richard of Prestonia!"

Dozens of cups were raised – many of them elaborate skull-cups, and other simply mugs, or even thin drink glasses. There were loud cheers as the cups clanked together.

"Tell me, Richard, do you drink? Ladies! Will there be ladies to entertain His Prestonian Majesty? What is this place? A monastery?"

Immediately, the King and his entourage were surrounded by ladies of various degrees of repute – some fangirls, some guests, and some plainly hired by Kazansky for the party.

Kazansky refilled the skull of the Emperor Galf, this time with champagne, and drank it, rapidly, even as he watched Richard and his bodyguard become surrounded by what could only be described as a mix between a team of overexcited cheerleaders and a mobile strip joint.

"Do you do any drugs outside alcohol, Richard?" - one of the girls asked in a hoarse, seductive voice.

OOC: Sorry for the delay

"I'll drink pretty much anything, if it's palatable. I took a bartending course in university to fill out an elective, and of course sampled some of my creations," Richard replied, after taking a long sip from his drink. At this, his bodyguard Jordan gave him a short, glaring look. While he was normally the epitome of a stiff upper lipped Prestonian gentleman, Richard had been known to drop revelations in friendly company that, if leaked to the press, would turn him into a media circus. As His Majesty's personal attendant, it was part of Jordan's job to make sure the King didn't say or do anything imprudent throughout this affair, something he was slowly coming to realize would be a Herculean task.

Richard had to be commended on one thing, however: he kept his composure when surrounded by a throng of attractive women. He was a married man, and his wife, a former model, was quite attractive herself. As such, Richard displayed only moderate interest in the ladies surrounding him, choosing instead to mentally focus upon the image of his beloved Erica, who even at age 40 could still light up a room by entering it.

"Well, I used to smoke mari-," Richard began in response to the woman's question before a rather forceful elbow in the ribs from his attendant cut him off. It was known to very few outside the royal circle of trust that the college-aged Richard had smoked marijuana, due in large part to the fact that his late father had bribed the tabloids to shelve their story. As long as Jordan had anything to do with it, that story would stay shelved.

"Oh, but dear Richard, you are but a fount of interesting skills and knowledge!” - Kazansky proclaimed, pretending not to notice the bodyguard's jab. If these barbarians want to observe their strange taboos, I will certainly not be the one to point out their barbarism “A bartender's course? Oh, but that is simply precious! You must one day mix something up for me. Of course, I am not at all good at this bartending stuff, I just pour me stuff – by the way, I need this filled up.” - he tossed Emperor Galf's skull to a random fangirl, who proceeded immediately to fill it up with champagne.

"One day, yes... where was I, Richard?” - Alexander proceeded as he snuggled the fangirl and sipped on the champagne. - “We must remember it – Oh! Yes! Next time when you're visiting me, mix something up for me. In the meanwhile – Richard, I wish to question you about something.”

"Havenic peace. Now, I realize that there can't be long-term peace in Haven. But we can have a semblance of peace – through superior firepower. Your Majesty – I have a plan.”

"Visualize a network of trade infrastructure – railways, roads, and so forth – linking the Kingston Pact nations and their allies, improving our trade – but also, making it easier for us to transport ground troops, air forces, and so forth.”

"More importantly, let us create a network of joint naval and ground installations – think of bases like Allanea's Cloyster Coast Camp – all over the place. They'll be armed with NPG's, Khan batteries, missile launchers, the works. When – if – the fat lady sings, we will use these bases to cut off any Havenic trade routes we'll need to cut off.”

"Allanea will provide funding for the project, and you people can man your own station. Soon enough, the Kingston Pact will eventually have the capacity to maintain or destroy Havenic trade. Richard – he who can destroy a thing can control a thing.”

As he spoke these words, Alexander remained completely nonchalant, as if it was ordinary party gossip he was suggesting. Perhaps, to him, it was.