Brittanican Adenia
26-11-2008, 00:41
"...sitting down. You heard me, Verona. This is my plane, not yours. Look, the steward is trying to get through."
The BAe 146, of Royal Flight 072 Squadron, thundered on over Ixanian airspace. It's passengers, already dressed for their landing, sat still as their makeup was applied (for the women), and the men sampled colognes and sipped chardonnay.
The airport was soon approached, and the standard dress of royalty was borne - morning suits for the men, and pastel skirt-suits and pill-box hats for the women. Verona's, a flattering shade of rose, was not exactly to her taste. Far happier in riding gear, she was looking forward to the more open spaces of Ixania, as opposed to the hustle and bustle her family more often inhabited.
The aircraft landed itself on the runway satisfactorily, but not to the pilot's - "first time, every time" was the motto in the billet, but a bounce could be forgiven...every now and again. The 146, however, just seemed pleased to be on the ground, the engines giving a contented whine as they made their way to the ramp, and the alighting point.
OOC: Gonna assume this, as it's still technically a state visit.
The band piped up as the Queen appeared in the door, the honour guard and red carpet pristine as the made her way down the stairs. In a maneuvre rehearsed countless times before, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs, to watch her husband make his way down. Taking his arm, they walked slowly forward, inspecting uniform and it's wearer alike.
In turn, each of their children followed, the most notable being Princess Verona, who had learned quickly about the graces of being royalty. A small wave preceeded her descent from the stairs, and she took her time making her way down the rows of soldiers, inspecting each from shoes to peaked caps. Honourary Air-Mistress Marshal of the Royal Adenian Aeronautical Service, she had been enrolled at Adenia's finest military academy and was learning through the intricacies of a finely-pressed uniform just two nights before.
The family moved slowly down the carpet, posing quickly for the Ixanian press, before moving onto their vehicles, a motorcade prepared for them - and their first stop? Like all Adenian families, a trip to the seaside.
The BAe 146, of Royal Flight 072 Squadron, thundered on over Ixanian airspace. It's passengers, already dressed for their landing, sat still as their makeup was applied (for the women), and the men sampled colognes and sipped chardonnay.
The airport was soon approached, and the standard dress of royalty was borne - morning suits for the men, and pastel skirt-suits and pill-box hats for the women. Verona's, a flattering shade of rose, was not exactly to her taste. Far happier in riding gear, she was looking forward to the more open spaces of Ixania, as opposed to the hustle and bustle her family more often inhabited.
The aircraft landed itself on the runway satisfactorily, but not to the pilot's - "first time, every time" was the motto in the billet, but a bounce could be forgiven...every now and again. The 146, however, just seemed pleased to be on the ground, the engines giving a contented whine as they made their way to the ramp, and the alighting point.
OOC: Gonna assume this, as it's still technically a state visit.
The band piped up as the Queen appeared in the door, the honour guard and red carpet pristine as the made her way down the stairs. In a maneuvre rehearsed countless times before, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs, to watch her husband make his way down. Taking his arm, they walked slowly forward, inspecting uniform and it's wearer alike.
In turn, each of their children followed, the most notable being Princess Verona, who had learned quickly about the graces of being royalty. A small wave preceeded her descent from the stairs, and she took her time making her way down the rows of soldiers, inspecting each from shoes to peaked caps. Honourary Air-Mistress Marshal of the Royal Adenian Aeronautical Service, she had been enrolled at Adenia's finest military academy and was learning through the intricacies of a finely-pressed uniform just two nights before.
The family moved slowly down the carpet, posing quickly for the Ixanian press, before moving onto their vehicles, a motorcade prepared for them - and their first stop? Like all Adenian families, a trip to the seaside.