NationStates Jolt Archive

Canalive City, Zoingo

A Beatusian C-45 Expeditor landed at a small airfield on the outskirts of the city. Devin Jameson Fogarty, President of Paedocracy of the Beatus, was on board. When the plane had taxied to the designated landing zone, the door to the aircraft opened, and President Fogarty's two man security team, exited the plane, ensuring that it was safe, before escorting President Fogarty to the waiting Toyota Land Cruiser 4x4. From there, the embassy vehicle would take the President to the meeting site.

ooc: arg for random things that I had to do.

Awaiting President Fogarthy was the Privy Counsel Member Mick Yelsen and Parliament head Lord Dunmore. As the plane touched down gracefully at the airport, the 2 approached the President with an eager pace.

"President Fogarthy, its an honor to see you, welcome to the Commonwealth!" Yelsen extended his hand.

"Yes yes quite Yelsen," Lord Dunmore said quickly as he adjusted his cuffs. "Mr. President, we apologize, but the meeting is taking place in Amsteldam about a few hundred miles to the south."

"Does he know?" Yelsen asked Dunmore as he glanced at him.

"Probably not, but we should go ahead and tell him anyway." Dunmore replied, and then explained to the President. "About 2 years back, the Capital was moved from Canalive to Juvlii, and then from Juvlii to Amsteldam. We never had the time to tell our arriving delegations that such a change had been made."

"It was in-fact, the King's Idea, as well as the ex-Prime Minister, Roland J. Massaquine." Yelsen added.

Dunmore quickly rolled out a map and showed President Fogarthy (http://img291.imageshack.us/img291/5223/zoingoav6.gif).

"We are here, and we need to travel here...so if you don't mind, we best get going immediately." Dunmore said as he started to walk towards the presidents plane.

"Typical Dunmore, a man of action, or in this case, too fast of action." Yelsen whispered quietly into the Presidents' Ear. "You might also want to warn the Stocklomolvi delegation as well about the whole capital switch-a-roo. ."

If the other delegates had been shocked, to see a boy of but 16 emerge from the 4x4, they did not show it. He was dressed, in his full military dress uniform, with many medals, and ribbons. In a sheath at his waist was a jewel encrusted sword. Devin had chosen to wear it, to signify the deep friendship between his nation, and Zoingo. "It is no trouble at all," he said to the man, returning to the 4x4. "I am sure that the Stoklomolvi delegation will have no trouble finding the proper landing site." He returned to the 4x4, and soon, they were off, following Mick Yelsen and Lord Dunmore.

[OOC: Bump]

[OOC: Shoot, I did not see this.]

The Stoklomolvi Commissar, Mikhail Alexeiovich Stuyonovich, unfortunately did not receive the message regarding the capitals switching and ended up landing in Canalive City in a Tupolev Tu-444. He and his small group, all rather old at this point, disembarked to find that the meeting had been relocated to Amsteldam. The men sat around at the airport before the plane was finally serviced and took off. Along the way, a very terrible turbulence forced an emergency landing, and the men were forced to land at Port Royal instead. A total of seven hours passed at Port Royal before the plane could take off, and this time it was to a horrible rain that spontaneously appeared where their plane was. Lightning could be seen jumping from cloud to cloud below, and the sky was filled with an ominous black.

In the plane, there were nine men. Five were aircraft crew, while the four others were rather notable. Mikhail, the Commissar, wore a thick overcoat, as all the Stoklomolvi do, Alexei Aleksandrovich Stuyonovich, the old Commissar, wore a great coat and a typical cap with the huge top, Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, the former Foreign Affairs minister and present representative to the Anagonian Grand Senate, wore a jet black suit, and Grigor Aleksandrovich Stuyonovich, former and present Commissar for Foreign Affairs, wore a great coat. The four men sat in the centre of the plane, chairs facing each other, playing an intense game of Mah-jong in which Grigor was winning quite solidly.

"Hah! Six pairs! You all lose!"

The others groaned, and each handed over a stoklomov to Grigor. Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck the plane, disabling one of the engines, and the pilot was forced to make an emergency landing in a field. Rain poured on the plane, and until the rain stopped, the plane could go nowhere.

Four more hours passed, and at this point it was in the middle of the night. The field was soggy, and the plane had sunk into the field by a whole half a metre. It was decided that the four notable men would have to walk to Amsteldam, which was only two kilometres away. It would take only around fifteen minutes under good conditions, of which there were none. The four would have to walk slowly, as the very damp field would engulf them if they walked too quickly. Soon after, they found a road, and walked along the edges until they were in the city. It was nearly morning.

[OOC: Shoot, I did not see this.]

The Stoklomolvi Commissar, Mikhail Alexeiovich Stuyonovich, unfortunately did not receive the message regarding the capitals switching and ended up landing in Canalive City in a Tupolev Tu-444. He and his small group, all rather old at this point, disembarked to find that the meeting had been relocated to Amsteldam. The men sat around at the airport before the plane was finally serviced and took off. Along the way, a very terrible turbulence forced an emergency landing, and the men were forced to land at Port Royal instead. A total of seven hours passed at Port Royal before the plane could take off, and this time it was to a horrible rain that spontaneously appeared where their plane was. Lightning could be seen jumping from cloud to cloud below, and the sky was filled with an ominous black.

In the plane, there were nine men. Five were aircraft crew, while the four others were rather notable. Mikhail, the Commissar, wore a thick overcoat, as all the Stoklomolvi do, Alexei Aleksandrovich Stuyonovich, the old Commissar, wore a great coat and a typical cap with the huge top, Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, the former Foreign Affairs minister and present representative to the Anagonian Grand Senate, wore a jet black suit, and Grigor Aleksandrovich Stuyonovich, former and present Commissar for Foreign Affairs, wore a great coat. The four men sat in the centre of the plane, chairs facing each other, playing an intense game of Mah-jong in which Grigor was winning quite solidly.

"Hah! Six pairs! You all lose!"

The others groaned, and each handed over a stoklomov to Grigor. Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck the plane, disabling one of the engines, and the pilot was forced to make an emergency landing in a field. Rain poured on the plane, and until the rain stopped, the plane could go nowhere.

Four more hours passed, and at this point it was in the middle of the night. The field was soggy, and the plane had sunk into the field by a whole half a metre. It was decided that the four notable men would have to walk to Amsteldam, which was only two kilometres away. It would take only around fifteen minutes under good conditions, of which there were none. The four would have to walk slowly, as the very damp field would engulf them if they walked too quickly. Soon after, they found a road, and walked along the edges until they were in the city. It was nearly morning.

Outskirts of Amsteldam

A second black Land Cruiser had joined the Presidents from the Embassy. It was decided, as the trip would be longer than expected, that a second one was needed, in the event on broke down. As they were entering the city, the President spotted some men on the side of the road. He was thinking how bad life must be for these dirty, wet, homeless Zoingoans, when he noticed an emblem on one of the men's clothing. It was a Stoklomolvi one. "Driver, pull over by those men," President Fogarty said. The driver did, however, misjudged a puddle, splashing the men with mud, and cold water. At that moment Devin reached for his pistol, where it normally hung on his belt, only to find a sword. Well, it was the drivers lucky day, unless on of the Stoklomolvi men were armed. He got out of the Toyota Land Cruiser, and said, "You look like you need a ride," to the Stoklomolvi men. It was just President Fogarty, and the driver in the front Land Cruiser with his security detail in the rear one, leaving room for the four Stoklomolvi men. President Fogarty, opened the rear door, and folded down the jump seats, before motioning for the Stoklomolvi dignitaries to get in. He took a place on the drivers side, closest to the door in the back, giving the seat in the front to whichever of the Stoklomolvi men wanted it.

Outskirts of Amsteldam
0613 hours

The men were trudging along the road, the city within sight a good distance away. Suddenly, a large black vehicle sped up from behind and splashed Mikhail, Grigor, and Vladimir with water, soaking their coats and Vladimir's suit with water. Putin was naturally infuriated, and reached in his coat for his SC-1 Pistol to find instead a ballpoint pen. It ended up looking a bit strange to see four men, three of them dripping with water, and one of them pointing a pen at a Land Cruiser that just happened upon them. Alexei, being very old and venerable, was directed to sit in the front, a position he happily accepted as he did not want to sit next to a bunch of men soaking with water and mud.

The other men crammed into the back, and Putin put his pen away. Alexei laughed.

"Certainly is interesting to see four Stoklomolvi men walking in the middle of nowhere, right?"

ooc:changed due to context error

"Hey look, he is armed, arrest him and his friends, they are terrorists!" Dunmore yelled to the operatives in the back of the 4x4. In a flash, the 4 ZI6 operatives jumped out of the back, and made a huge splash that again launched a wave of water against the Stocklomolvi delegation.

"Sir, put down your weapon, and we can all walk away from this." The head agent calmly said as he and his fellow operatives raised their .35 caliber handguns. Yelsen then jumped out of the back and knocked the man's hands down.

"We can all walk away from this Agent 31, because you would take a man alive wielding a pen?" he pointed out. The agents withdrew from their heightened awareness while they got back into the 4x4. Yelsen then shot a glance at Lord Dunmore, who then proceeded to mumble about terrorists and pen bombs.

He then turned to the Stocklomolvi delegation, after they were able to get into the back.

"Sorry for my friends.....cautious nature, regardless, I hope that your landing wasn't that rough of a ride. However, when I call the local air field and have them fix your plane....you might want to pay the damages that you gave to that farmers' wheat field." Yelsen pointed to the sunken plane in the distance and the small inferno started from the spill of the jet fuel. "I expect that it should be put out in a few minutes, but still, I do not want our government filling and insurance claim for a electrocuted jet crashing into one of the most productive fields in the country and burning tens of acres of fine grain." he proceeded to simle, and turned to the approaching lights of the city.

The approached a sign and then proceeded into town. (http://img243.imageshack.us/img243/4369/safetypw8.gif)

Around them, small, brick row houses crowed together along thin street boulevards that stretched on along the canals that seperated the streets between them around. Amsteldams' canals sliced through the landscape as if they had been their for ages, humming with water taxis and barges full of both goods and people alike. Among the rows of houses, church steeples daunted the smaller buildings and were lit immaculately whist they glistened in the evening dew. Tolley's dinged and gently screeched along the old rail lines across the canal bridges. As the delegations proceeded further into the city, they reached Wall Boulevard; Yelsen asked the driver to stop the 4x4 at the now empty bridge spanning the Rowen Canal, and they looked upon the Elstertoren, most famous church in Zoingo (http://img.thesun.co.uk/multimedia/archive/00405/amsterdam_682_405719a.jpg).

"It is almost time again," Yelsen sighed.

What was not told is that every eighth of the day (every 3 hours) the regular bell toll to signify the hour changes to a constantly different melody. And upon the onset of the stroke of 6, the carillon at the St. Paulson Cathedral in the central square of the city rang. Soon, it was joined by a wave of cannoning bells that rang out from all over the city, including from the Elstertoren (http://www.verdin.com/Uploads/File/chamber_carillon_sound/salve.mp3).

"Music to my ears."

ooc: You don't mind if I rp your plane for a bit do you Beatus? And lol for the homeless Zoingonians part.

IC:

The Beatusian C-45 Expeditor started its descend towards the glittering capital of the Commonwealth. Upon the planes' rapid decent, it was quite unusual for such an aircraft to fly so low; in Canalive, for example, flying less than a few thousand feet before landing was forbidden due to the massive skyscrapers that towered over the city center. In Amsteldam however, such restrictions were loosened by the fact that vary few buildings reached over 10 stories within the immediate city radius.
The plane passed over some of the most beautiful parts of the city; below, small, brick row houses crowed together along thin street boulevards that stretched on for miles around. Amsteldams' canals crisscrossed the landscape as if they had been their for ages, humming with water taxis and barges full of both goods and people alike. Among the rows of houses, church steeples daunted the smaller buildings and were lit immaculately whist they glistened in the evening dew. The landscape was simply that of an old age city, one that has been left untouched, one in which someone stopped the clock while the world turned around it.

The plane got one last glimpse of the city (http://www.wolfdesign.nl/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/amsterdam.jpg) before finally landing at the airport. All the people aboard stepped out into the evening air, Yelsn and Dunmore approached the tarmac and waited for the ringing of the hour bell.

What was not told is that every quarter of the day (every 3 hours) the tune changes from a toll to a constantly different melody. And upon the onset of the stroke of 9, the carillon at the St. Paulson Cathedral in the central square of the city rang. Soon, it was joined by a wave of cannoning bells that rang out from all over the city (http://www.verdin.com/Uploads/File/chamber_carillon_sound/salve.mp3). It rang out so loud that even those out for miles around could hear it, so every person in the entire area could hear it. It was the shining achievement of the Commonwealth, the city of Amsteldam....

[OOC: the Beatusian plane, would either still be in Canalive City, or have no passengers, as the Beatusian delegation drove to Amsteldam, which is where they met with the Stoklomolvi delegation. Also 6 hours would a quarter of the day, three hours is an eighth.]

[OOC: the Beatusian plane, would either still be in Canalive City, or have no passengers, as the Beatusian delegation drove to Amsteldam, which is where they met with the Stoklomolvi delegation. Also 6 hours would a quarter of the day, three hours is an eighth.]

ooc: ack! were we supposed to go with you via driving? I rped my delegation taking the plane. Darn it! And I am mistaken, I accidentally said quarter instead of eight.

Ill change it. Redo

ooc: bump for changes and to add some comedy.

Alexei sat staring out the window, and the others sat in silence. Finally, Grigor spoke.

"Where, exactly, are we heading, comrades?"

Yelsen and Dunmore got back into the 4x4, and gave a Did you even pay attention to the huge cultural aspect of what just happened, and how it relates to our history as a nation. Not to mention the centuries worth of beautiful canals and buildings that flow through the city? look to the Stocklomolvi delegation, they seemed to understand, but the 2 of them decided to reinstate the matter.

To change the tone, Dunmore answered Grigor's question.

"Well, since the plane crashed, and our original plans are canceled, I suggest that for the night, we stay in Dan Palace in the center of the city if that is okay. His Majesty wouldn't mind that much for visitors, especially those of his most trusted allies."

"Should we go ahead and arrange the conference to take place in the city?" Yelsen asked Dunmore with a side look. Improvising, Dunmore continued.

"Would you like the conference to be just held in the palace, or perhaps should it be held whilst us, the delegations, tour the sights at the same time?"

Devin noted how old, and cramped the city appeared. "I think, it would be best, if we just held the meeting at the palace," he concluded. "Sit down, have a nice meal, do some talking. Spending any more time, in a cramped automobile, would be too much for me."

Yelsen laughed "Who said we would be going by automobile?".

"Anyway, it is our guests wishes to go to the palace, then by our custom, we honor it Yelsen, even if you do forget." Dunmore rolled his eyes.

The car's kept driving over canal after canal, tall building after tall building, after they finally reached a central square in the heart of the city. The buildings in the surrounding courtyard were bigger than the multi-level residencies in the outer rim, but still had old age architecture to their feel. And a daunting palace resided in the middle of it all.
(http://farm1.static.flickr.com/9/15683747_402572b086.jpg?v=0)
The vechicles pulled up into the main wing of the palace.

"Welcome to 'our house', this is the King's Winter Residence, as well as a host to our Prime Minister, Martin Dalons, our high officials, as well as an old friend of yours, Francis Pïèrock."

Alexei silently studied the surrounding area, as to absorb the Zoingonian surroundings for his plan to paint the area. Grigor, an aging man at this point, stared back at Yelsen and Dunmore before giving a nod and going back to twiddling his thumbs. The taciturn Stoklomolvi would say little until they reached the Winer Residence, upon which Alexei exclaimed,

"Francis? I have not seen him in ages!"

Grigor, a tad confused, looked at his brother, and then shrugged. The others looked at Alexei as if he were crazy, and went back to doing nothing.

Alexei silently studied the surrounding area, as to absorb the Zoingonian surroundings for his plan to paint the area. Grigor, an aging man at this point, stared back at Yelsen and Dunmore before giving a nod and going back to twiddling his thumbs. The taciturn Stoklomolvi would say little until they reached the Winer Residence, upon which Alexei exclaimed,

"Francis? I have not seen him in ages!"

Grigor, a tad confused, looked at his brother, and then shrugged. The others looked at Alexei as if he were crazy, and went back to doing nothing.

ooc: lol for some reason, in Zoingonian Francis is pronounced (fra-ce)....weird warp like that.

IC:

"Well, if we do not have any more dilly dallying to do, I suggest that we make our walk" Dunmore said as he opened out the door and pulled out an umbrella.

As he did that, the surrounding temperature had reached the point in which the wet rain turned into flakes, very, very fast moving, blurry flakes. Little clusters of snow formed in piles around the vehicles.

"Wow, now I will be cold and wet, I hope that that freezing rain wasn't too much of a hassle on you guys." Yelsen joked to the Stocklomolvi delegation as he put on his cap and proceeded into the now forming snow. The two men then proceeded up the steps into the palace.

"Come on, you don't want to be left out in a snow flurry!" Yelsen shouted to the non-moving persons in the 4X4. "The weather outside can turn quite blustery even in the center of town this time of year."

President Fogarty, got out of the 4x4, and followed Yelsen towards the entrance. He had never met Francis Pïèrock, nor had he met anyone who had met him. Those leaders, were dead now, long dead to him. He remembered his attache case, he would not have been happy if he had forgotten it.

On top of the steps, a large doorway stood with a few armed guards who were out on a mid-night patrol to keep watch in front of the palace. Yelsen brought with him his ID and authorization, and then he was able to open the massive 20 foot doorway that lead into the palace.

"After you," Yelsen pointed to the delegations as they were rushed outside of the cold.