NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: The signup thread for this event is here: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=588163

To call the Ball controversial would be a complete understatement. For most of his life Klein had been engaged in a struggle against monarchism and aristocracy, a struggle which had often led to violence and bitter hatred. Now the people of Parilisa would watch as he danced, drank and feasted amongst them. One headline had brazenly declared that Klein was messing around in “PARTY POLITICS”, the paper had juxtaposed this with an image of Klein baring a bright red banner emblazoned with the golden letters “Down With Kings”.

Nevertheless Klein defended his guests. “Every time you have a meal with someone,” he said “Do you necessarily agree with the opinions of everyone around the table? Nor do I agree with the people at this Ball; that does not stop me wanting to meet and talk to them.”

And so he was here in the Sylvaburg Hotel, in the beautiful city in which he was born and raised. Carefully he checked his appearance in the long mirror on the other side of the room, whilst brushing his hair with a wooden comb. Below his feet the Hotel’s staff were scurrying about making sure the decorations were in order and the seating had been planned impeccably. The band had taken up position and the soft chords of their rehearsing could just about be heard over the thundering roar from the kitchen as the expert chefs cooked up a fabulous feast of food. Through the window Klein could see the press, the flashes of their cameras blasting out like gunshots. If he had known beforehand how controversial this entire affair would e he would not have arranged it, but he was looking forward to meeting his guests on this dazzling occasion nonetheless.

Anaru Yamashita the Crowned Queen, or as they were called in her country Minstrels arrived in the country, she admired the obviously sound conditions of the country. Not that Ang Philippines was dangerous, but it still was developing. It considered its self Second World although the term Second World was generally obsolete in economics.

She also was told the nation didn't take kindly to Monarchs, which gave her husband second thoughts about having her attend, but she insisted on going regardless.

"Good evening." She told the guards. "I'm Anaru Yamashita from The Kingdom of Ang Philippines."

"Are you sure you should go, sir? I hear Parilisa isn't too fond of monarchs," said Sam Bakker, Senior Aide to the Prince.

"Sam, am I wearing a crown?" Prince Johannes de Vaar asked.

"No, sir," said Sam.

"Am I wearing ermine fur, heeled shoes and a powdered wig?"

"No."

"Are there Roman numerals after my name?"

"No."

"Am I from a long line that has ruled Vaarshire for centuries, at the expense of the poor?"

"No."

"Then, in the traditional sense, I am not a monarch. I was elected by the people of Vaarshire to be their leader. I do not see myself as a true Prince. I see myself more like... the President of Vaarshire. I just happen to be called 'Prince'. The only reason Vaarshire's executive is called 'Prince' is in honor of Prince Henri de Vaar, who was not actual royalty. You should know the story," said Johannes.

"Well, alright then. I just hope we don't get shot," said Sam.

"We won't, Sam. Don't think so negatively. And change into your tux! It's quite a long plane ride to Parilisa so we've got to leave soon," said Johannes.

"Wait, I'm going?" Sam asked, paling slightly.

"Of course you are, Sam."

"But shouldn't you take the Minister of Diplomacy or something?"

"Don't argue," barked the Prince. "I already called the Hotel and went through all the paperwork. Here's your passport, by the way, and the tux I got you should be in your office." The Prince handed the flabbergasted twenty-something his passport.
-----
A few hours later, Prince Johannes and Sam were on the Royal Jet on their way to Parilisa. They wore matching tuxes; black jackets with white shirts, orange vests and red bow ties. There were Vaarshire flag pins in their lapels. The Prince wore an expensive gold Rolex and large gold ring- it was an actual signet ring that sealed every law in Vaarshire. Sam nervously wrung his hands.

"What, didn't you go to prom? This is essentially the same thing," said Johannes.

"Except that nations don't go to war if you say something wrong at prom," said Sam. "I'm not a politician, sir, I just work for them."

Johannes patted Sam on the shoulder. "No wars will come out of this, I promise. It's just a fancy time for leaders to get together and schmooze. People probably won't notice you, anyway. No offense."

"None taken, sir. I prefer it," said Sam. "And, by the way, I didn't even go to Prom."

"Oh, by the way, do you know how to ballroom dance?" The Prince asked.

Sam paled. "No, sir."

"Ah. I thought I was the only one." They both laughed.
-----
After landing at the airport and riding in the limo that had been in the cargo bay- no Head of State should ever be in a foriegn country without a fancy black car with flags on it-the Vaar delegation to the International Ball arrived at the hotel.

Harmony Chang stepped down from the C-130 that she had shared with pallets of diesel fuel in jugs and a handful of mechanical-looking types in coveralls. They were on their way to rescue a submarine, or some such thing, and they had welcomed her into their card game. She stood barefoot on the tarmac with her duffle bag slung over her shoulder, wearing jeans and the "We Eat Royalty" T-shirt that her father had asked her not to pack. She wondered where she could find a taxi.

Grand Duke Alexander Vasilovic Kavinkov II sighed quietly and laid his head leisurely back on the leather chair that he was seated. The plane gave another slight jolt as it encountered turbulence again, but he had been aboard enough aircraft to not even notice it anymore. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath, just as his personal doctor had told him. It was his way with dealing with stress, and it worked remarkably well. Kavinkov straightened himself in his chair and gave the back of his neck a little massage. Despite the luxuriously comfortable chairs in the aircraft, 7 hours of flight had the nasty effect of making you sore no matter what. Kavinkov turned his head, taking in the full sights of the aircraft. At the other end of his personal compartment, Kavinkov could clearly see his two bodyguards: Stanislaw Romaniski and Pawel Yevtushenko. Compared to the relatively drab interior of the plane, the two men stood out incredibly. Their gleaming bronze coloured cuirasses shined even in the dim, artificial light of the overhead lamps and their tall, gleaming black shakos almost touched the roof. The mens' lavish exterior uniform was largely for show, but beneath all this finery was still Volzgradien Heavy Combat Armour. Both of the men were armed with the signature Volzgradien DSR-95 Assault Rifle.

Kavinkov himself had dressed for the occasion. His deep black greatcoat was bedecked with medals and awards of every conceivable shape and size, all of them earned personally by Kavinkov during his illustrious years of military service. In his lap, Kavinkov carried his signature peaked General's Karsiva cap, a testament to his devotion to the Volzgradien Military. This was Kavinkov's first international ball, and he wanted to look every inch the powerful, influential man that he was. His advisers had warned him that Parilisa was a nation set deftly against Monarchs, but Kavinkov had rejected their worries. Kavinkov was not a monarch per se. He had been elected into his position by Volzgrad's Royal Council, and the title Grand Duke was monarchical in name only. Besides, if things did turn violent, Kavinkov and his two comrades were all 20 year veterans of Volzgrad's frontline military. It would take much more then displeased Socialists to kill or injure him. Naturally, he had taken the extra precaution of carrying a loaded RMI Combat Revolver in his greatcoat's inner most pocket.

"Captain to all passengers, we are now entering landing procedures. Please fasten seat belts and turn off all electronic devices. Thank you." Blared the intercom as it buzzed to life after a wave of static.

"About bloody time, I can hardly feel my ass." Groaned Romaniski as he finished clipping his seat belt. Despite the vulgarity of the remark, all present laughed at the man's comment. They were all old comrades and such behavior was more then acceptable.

"Amen to that. I'm itching to get off this plane." Kavinkov replied, still chuckling. Yevtushenko, the quietest of the group, simply laughed and nodded.

A few minutes later, the small aircraft's wheels touched down in Parilisa. The three men hastily scrambled for the plane's now open doorway and exited into the harsh Parilisan sunlight. A motorcade and a large crowd of journalists were already waiting. The flash of cameras was almost blinding as Kavinkov and his two comrades descended the steps and entered the motorcade's large, black limousine.

The King was quite delighted upon receiving his invitation. Diplomatic visits were the highlight of a monarch’s life, as he would always say, and they must be seized at every possible occasion. The King could not immediately figure out which two people he would invite, so instead he consulted his Wardrobe Secretaries and Garment Stewards to determine what he should wear to the event. After this had been decided, he was still unable to render a decision. To make more time for himself, he oversaw the rehearsing of the trumpeter who would play a resounding fanfare upon the King’s arrival at the airport. After this, he consulted with his Deputy Majordormo to determine which wines he would bring to Parlisa and how much of each.

After all this, the King realised that he could no longer put off the decision of who should accompany him. Of course, Lord Rodderwick would have to come. He would need to bring some servants as well. He would need to bring more than two of them, of course, but he assumed that such a notion was implied and these people did not count anyway. A monarch without such staff might as well be unclothed. With this in mind, the King enlisted some valets, retainers, and footmen who would come along.

Much more difficult was the selection of the second individual that should be his guest. He narrowed the potential candidates down to Lord Saxmundham, Lord Benpolt, Lord Imperial, and Lord Marlburgh, but no further exclusions could be made. He eventually decided to invite all of the above, since surely most of them would not be able to attend and he would be left with two. He then set aside his pen for a few minutes and moved on to other tasks, but he had the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he had made some egregious error in his choices. After a while he could not hold his feelings back anymore and summoned Lord Rodderwick.

“Yes, my liege?” said Rodderwick.

“Lord Rodderwick, do you remember the event in Perillia that I had mentioned to you earlier?”

“Yes, the Parilisa Ball. I have already invited Lord Benpolt, Lord King, Lord Brecon, Lord Warwick, and Lord Denning. Do you have any amendments that you would wish to make to this list?”

“Yes, I would also like to invite Lord Saxmundham, Lord Imperial and Lord Malburgh. There is one problem, though. I believe I recall some stipulation in the invitation regarding a two guest limit.”

“I do not remember any such maximum being stated.”

“I do not believe I shared with you the invitation itself. I appear to have misplaced it, but I am confident in my memory.”

“Well, my liege, that would appear to create a problem of sorts.”

“Yes, that it does. Do you think I should write Lord Brecon and tell him that he cannot come?”

“If you wish, my liege. I must warn you, however, that Lord Gilfort would eventually hear of this event and be offended at your forgetfulness.”

“Yes, quite right. And it would be thoughtless of me to invite Lord Denning without inviting Lord Rockingham.”

“Oh, yes, certainly. And Lord Garscone.”

“And Lord Garscone.”

“So, my liege, it would seem that we should dispatch invitations to Lord Benpolt, Lord Denning, Lord Rockingham, Lord Brecon, Lord King, Lord Saxmundham, Lord Gilfort, Lord Marlburgh, Lord Warwick, Lord Imperial, and Lord Garscone.”

“And I would like to invite the Bishop of Tannerford.”

“Yes, good, any other amendments, my liege?”

“No, it would be wise to stop there. If any more guests appear aside from the two the Pralilians have agreed to accommodate, then they will have to find someone else who will lend them a bed. Now, hurry you and write those. We must board the plane in a few minutes.”

The King’s private jet arrived carrying only himself, his retinue, and Lord Rockingham. Any other guests were expected to fly to Parilisa themselves. The plane landed and he made his way to the Sylvaburg Hotel without incident.

Unbeknownst to the King, everyone who had received one of the King’s invitations had immediately boarded their own planes which were bound for Parlisa. After all, they knew that snubbing the King would be an irrecoverable blow to their social status. In addition, each of these men had sent out invitations of their own, and these people had then dispatched their own invitations, and so on. Each one of them would be bringing their own servants, families, domestic staff, etc. Over the course of the evening and even into the next several days, thousands of planes carrying over one hundred thousand aspiring ball attendees began pouring into Parilisa. Often these people did not know where they were going and attempted to land in the wrong city.

Arrival in Parilisa

Michelle was certainly not new to controversy. Not only was she Jarridia’s first female president, but she had also been the Westwood Alliance’s president for an astounding four terms. Her beauty and kind spirit had carried her far in life, and granted her the ability to manipulate things that others simply could not. She was not to be taken lightly however, as she was also known for her sharp tongue and quick wit. She was, after all, the president of one of the strongest nations in the world. Jarridia had its tough times in the past, but Michelle had led it to new heights. Its cities and natural wonders pristine, its coffers full, and its infrastructure updated constantly. From Vampirian City to Kiakor. From Westwood to Paradiso Island. The nation had become a ‘utopia’ of sorts, if that were possible.

She steps out of her limo, her bright pink high-heels glimmering in the lights of the hotel in Parilisa. She wears a glittery pink dress with a white ribbon tied about her waist and a bow to the side. She also chose to wear white gloves and her silky brunette hair up. She found it charming that such a Ball was controversial in Parilisa, as Jarridia had held many in the past. Michelle was fond of parties.

Some cameras flash as she approaches the entry way. Her two personal guards accompany her, just for precaution. She walks towards the guards at the front of the hotel, ”Good evening boys,” she says smiling, her eyes twinkling as she hands them her invitation. ”What are two upstanding gentlemen like yourselves doing outside the party?” she gave a little giggle. She was quite the flirt sometimes. She waves goodbye at them as she passes through the entry.

She thinks to herself, ”What a pretty building this Sylvaburg Hotel is. I do like exquisite architecture.” She watches several of the other leaders as she enters. But instead of introducing herself immediately, she decides to head to the bar and watch for a few moments. She approaches the bar and orders, ”Hi there. I’d like a shaken Martini…extra dirty”, she gives a little grin, and after receiving her drink she turns around to watch the crowd. Smiling to herself, ”This could be a fun night.”

Klein entered the foyer alone; his security guards were busy outside and he had told them not to come into the Ball except in an emergency. Calmly he surveyed the scene, first he watched the monarchs. His closest friend, Sophia Hirsch, had advised him to bite his tongue a little when he was around them. She knew that he was quite likely to say something controversial for, whilst he was a talented diplomat and a polite speaker, his opinions would without a doubt clash with most of theirs. He had already spotted the one she had specifically told him to be polite to, and he watched him as he walked about. A brief annoyance flashed through his eyes as he noted that the hall was flooded with a variety of other, less important aristocrats. How he hated the vile little leeches.

The President strolled over to the bar and kindly asked for a glass of wine. He paused, taking a sip and looking round again.

The President strolled over to the bar and kindly asked for a glass of wine. He paused, taking a sip and looking round again.

Michelle notices President Klein sipping on his glass of wine and decided to pick up her Martini and make her way over. She had seen that the hall had become quite busy. Caterers walking about with their trays of food, and the other leaders mingling about themselves.

She approaches President Klein and briefly catches his eye. Her gentle walk making it seem as if she is merely floating above the ground. Her dress sparkling, she reaches her hand out to him, "Good evening Mr. President, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Michelle Thoreson, President of the Pure Democracy of Jarridia. I thank you for your invitation to this event in your quaint nation."

Though the word “quaint” had a patronising ring to it which cut into the patriotic heart of Klein, the elegance of the powerful woman compensated for it. He had read a lot about this woman and was a supporter of much of her work; he too had fought to defend and create civil rights and freedoms for his nation. Perhaps, he thought, he was a little awestruck by the presence of the influential woman.

“The pleasure is all mine, President Thoreson. It seemed like a fantastic opportunity to meet fellow leaders of the international community. I am especially honoured to meet you, President; I am a keen fan of what you have done for civil liberties.”

He took her hand and shook it, a tad uncertain about whether he was supposed ot shake it or kiss it as was often done in Parilisa. Satisfied he had done the suitable thing he decided not to add what he was thinking, that she looked spectacular in her dress, because he didn’t want to some across as patronising.

Michelle gives him a gentle smile, hoping to assure him that he had no reason to be nervous in her presence as she is just another human like him. She looks out over the crowd. "I will admit I did not know much of your nation until receiving your invitation. However, the more I learned the more intrigued I became. I see potential here. In this world of violence and darkness there are few bright spots. And you have one of them.". She took a sip of her Martini and looks back at him, "You have brought a multitude of people from different origins together. You have brought people into your homeland that you do not necessarily agree with, and that speaks volumes to your character. And although you have many people outside this building that disagree with what you have done on this evening, you chose to offer peace and friendship, rather than hatred and resentment. I am pleased to see that, and hope that you continue that path. I have learned through my time that working with people instead of against them achieves far greater results."

Grand Duke Alexander Kavinkov II smiled and peered out of the black limousine's heavily tinted windows as he and the rest of the motorcade neared the Sylvaburg Hotel. A large crowd of photographers and reporters had already congregated outside and were eagerly snapping pictures of the arriving dignitaries and leaders. The limousine came to a sudden stop just outside of the hotel's packed reception area. His bodyguard, Romaniski, hastily opened the door and clambered out of the limousine, his shako brushing against the car's interior. The other guard, Yevtushenko, exited next followed closely by Kavinkov himself. The flashes of yet more cameras almost blinded him as he approached the massive hotel's entrance doors. Kavinkov smiled cheerfully and made a small wave to the crowd as he entered the reception area.

Michelle gives him a gentle smile, hoping to assure him that he had no reason to be nervous in her presence as she is just another human like him. She looks out over the crowd. "I will admit I did not know much of your nation until receiving your invitation. However, the more I learned the more intrigued I became. I see potential here. In this world of violence and darkness there are few bright spots. And you have one of them.". She took a sip of her Martini and looks back at him, "You have brought a multitude of people from different origins together. You have brought people into your homeland that you do not necessarily agree with, and that speaks volumes to your character. And although you have many people outside this building that disagree with what you have done on this evening, you chose to offer peace and friendship, rather than hatred and resentment. I am pleased to see that, and hope that you continue that path. I have learned through my time that working with people instead of against them achieves far greater results."

The smile served its purpose and Klein relaxed a little. Her wise words were welcome following the barrage of criticism the press had directed at him following the announcement of the Ball; he was very glad that at least someone had seen the reason he had gathered these people here and was complimenting him for it.

“Parilisa is indeed a little bright spot. It is nations like ours which must guide the world at times of darkness and danger such as those in which we live. I hoped that by stretching out a hand to welcome in even those whom I strongly disagree with I could send out a signal to Parilisa that we are moving into an era of understanding and cooperation. Unfortunately the media have whipped up this idea that I am cosying up with fascists and oppressors. Its not like that though, I’m glad at least someone has realised.” He sighed, taking a sip of the wine with a smile.

“I do have one problem to face tonight, however.” He said, grinning. “I am a hopeless dancer. Absolutely diabolical!”

Harmony Chang walked into the ballroom dressed in red pajamas, still barefoot, with her long black hair in a pony-tail to show off her large hammer-and-sickle earrings. She clasped her hands behind her back and wandered around the room, looking at the artwork.

The security people outside had directed her to the service entrance, so she had entered that way. In the kitchen, the food looked good, if a trifle sissified, and the floor was clean. It wouldn't do to leave greasy footprints on the shiny ballroom floor.

She had been busy handing out Communist Party leaflets when the chef accosted her, but he had changed his tune when she showed him her invitation. He had ushered her politely but coldly toward the ballroom - and he had declined to take a leaflet.

She turned her back to the wall and looked around the room, wondering how people could sleep at night. A waiter came by and offered her a glass of wine. "No, thank you," she said. "You have one though." He nearly dropped his tray.

Grand Duke Alexander Kavinkov II smiled and peered out of the black limousine's heavily tinted windows as he and the rest of the motorcade neared the Sylvaburg Hotel. A large crowd of photographers and reporters had already congregated outside and were eagerly snapping pictures of the arriving dignitaries and leaders. The limousine came to a sudden stop just outside of the hotel's packed reception area. His bodyguard, Romaniski, hastily opened the door and clambered out of the limousine, his shako brushing against the car's interior. The other guard, Yevtushenko, exited next followed closely by Kavinkov himself. The flashes of yet more cameras almost blinded him as he approached the massive hotel's entrance doors. Kavinkov smiled cheerfully and made a small wave to the crowd as he entered the reception area.

OOC: Hope you don’t mind this, Volzgrad…

Concealed within the crowd of photographers, Alex Bodan stood and watched as the Duke got out of the limo. As flashes blasted out around him he took a bottle from his pocket and unscrewed the lid. Any moment now, he thought, as the Duke grew closer…any moment now and he would wipe that wicked little smile of the man’s face.

Then, as Kavinkov drew level with him he rushed out from the crowd, preparing to hurl the bottle. A security guard caught the man just before he could reach his target, throwing the protester to the floor with a crunching tackle about the hips. The bottle fell to the ground, red dye spreading out across the red carpet. A traditional form of protest in Parilisa was to throw red paint across your foe, a symbol of blood and violence. The security guard hauled him to his feet by the scruff of his neck and he was swiftly handcuffed.

“Fascist!” he screamed as he was dragged away. “Fascist!”

She smiles widely at him, "They will come around. Jarridians have not always been the most understanding people, but they have come to realize our place in the world and what we must to do sustain our way of life. Hopefully from this you and I can spark a friendship and even perhaps alliance. I welcome you to Jarridia when ever you so choose to visit."

She downs the remaining part of her Martini, then places the glass on the bar. "I've been called an exquisite dancer, and it isn't a ball without some dancing. How about we work on yours right now?" She gave a little giggle then reached for his hand. "It'll be fun. I promise."

Harmony Chang walked into the ballroom dressed in red pajamas, still barefoot, with her long black hair in a pony-tail to show off her large hammer-and-sickle earrings. She clasped her hands behind her back and wandered around the room, looking at the artwork.

The security people outside had directed her to the service entrance, so she had entered that way. In the kitchen, the food looked good, if a trifle sissified, and the floor was clean. It wouldn't do to leave greasy footprints on the shiny ballroom floor.

She had been busy handing out Communist Party leaflets when the chef accosted her, but he had changed his tune when she showed him her invitation. He had ushered her politely but coldly toward the ballroom - and he had declined to take a leaflet.

She turned her back to the wall and looked around the room, wondering how people could sleep at night. A waiter came by and offered her a glass of wine. "No, thank you," she said. "You have one though." He nearly dropped his tray.

The waiter approached the chef with a shocked look on his face.

“Did you see that woman?” he spluttered.

“What, the one in the pyjamas? The Commie one?” replied the chef with a wry smile.

“You let her in?” gasped the startled waiter.

“She had an invite, what could I say? Authentic to! Besides, Klein never wrote anything about having to dress fancy did he?” said the chef, turning his back on the waiter to hide his amusement.

“What kind of national representative wanders around like that?” he laughed. “I’ll keep an eye on the silly woman.”

She smiles widely at him, "They will come around. Jarridians have not always been the most understanding people, but they have come to realize our place in the world and what we must to do sustain our way of life. Hopefully from this you and I can spark a friendship and even perhaps alliance. I welcome you to Jarridia when ever you so choose to visit."

“It would be an honour to visit Jarridia one day; a most enlightening experience that will be, I’m sure. I can certainly see a future friendship between our nations, as bastions of freedom and liberty we have a duty to stick together.”

She downs the remaining part of her Martini, then places the glass on the bar. "I've been called an exquisite dancer, and it isn't a ball without some dancing. How about we work on yours right now?" She gave a little giggle then reached for his hand. "It'll be fun. I promise."


Klein smiled and finished his wine, placing the glass next to Michelle’s on the bar. He had barely said a word before she had hold of his hand, and his face was split by an embarrassing childish grin as she moved him towards the dance floor.

“I am barely a suitable partner for an “exquisite” dancer,” he exclaimed with amusement. “But if you are sure…”

He gave a nod to the band and they began to play a little louder, so that he music could be hard better over the general bubble of voices.

Harmony continued her tour of the outside edge of the ballroom. So far, only the lowliest kitchen staff, the potato-peelers and the floor-moppers, had been friendly. Anybody in a position of authority, from the rent-a-cops at the front door to the over-stuffed chef and even the waiter - just because he wore a tie to work, she presumed - had been rude. She would have been mortified if anybody was treated like that in her country.

She looked around for a clock and tried to remember when the Hercules was due back. She contemplated sleeping at the airport.

Harmony continued her tour of the outside edge of the ballroom. So far, only the lowliest kitchen staff, the potato-peelers and the floor-moppers, had been friendly. Anybody in a position of authority, from the rent-a-cops at the front door to the over-stuffed chef and even the waiter - just because he wore a tie to work, she presumed - had been rude. She would have been mortified if anybody was treated like that in her country.

She looked around for a clock and tried to remember when the Hercules was due back. She contemplated sleeping at the airport.

It was Sophia Hirsch who made the move to talk to the woman. A leading politician in Parilisa, a feminist, an ambassador, a civil rights campaigner and even a militant in the past she was a famous and formidable woman. A close friend of Klein’s, this entire event had really been her idea, though she had let her comrade think it was his.

“Harmony, I presume?” she said, approaching the woman with a smile and an outstretched hand. “My name is Sophia, Sophia Hirsch. Can I get you a drink from the bar? It’s all on the house!”

Michelle's face was bright as she led him to the floor. If there was one thing she loved more than life itself, it was dancing. She turns around in the middle of the floor, "Don't worry, I don't bite. Just follow my lead" she then joked, "If it goes absolutely horrible, you can always go chat with the woman in pajamas."

She places his right hand on her waist, and hers on his shoulder. They began slowly at first, gradually picking up pace. "See, not so bad."

“Harmony, I presume? My name is Sophia, Sophia Hirsch. Can I get you a drink from the bar? It’s all on the house!”

"It's nice to meet you," Harmony smiled. "I'd like a coffee, if you have any. I was just thinking of going out and looking for a doughnut shop."

On the plane ride over Atoli sat pouring over an entertainment magazine. She was usually amazed the way some foreign magazines could do the things they do. The VP sat down.

"Hey."

"You say Hello, Sir."

"Hello sir."

"Now I know you're a well behaved kid and all, but don't forget this is a formal meeting."

"I know, I begged Pa to let me come."

"Another thing, don't call your father, pa, you sound like a simpleton. Address him as father. Don't forget you will be in the presence of many monarchs."

"Is this really needed?"

"Atoli."

"Vice," Her father came and sat down. "Your job is to assist me, your not hear to tell me daughter instructions."

"Of course Mr. President, I meant nothing by it, I just want to prepare you both for meeting with heads of state. This is very important."

"I'm aware of that, but we both know who we are and where we come from. I will present my self as always, professional but not fake."

"Of course Mr. President."

"Don't forget, I can keep you on this plane if I have to." He joked.

"Yes sir, of course."

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

After the plane landed they charted a limo to take them. They arrived, checked in with security and began.

"I'm starving." Atoli remarked. "I think I see the food table." She began to make a move.

"Atoli..." Her father protested

"Pa, I won't get lost, and there's security guards everywhere."

"All right, all right, just don't go to far."

"I won't."

"You have to admit, she's like you." The Vice Said.

"Vice, why don't you go find some people in the crowed, no sense in us both being together."

"Of course, Mr. President."

Michelle's face was bright as she led him to the floor. If there was one thing she loved more than life itself, it was dancing. She turns around in the middle of the floor, "Don't worry, I don't bite. Just follow my lead" she then joked, "If it goes absolutely horrible, you can always go chat with the woman in pajamas."

She places his right hand on her waist, and hers on his shoulder. They began slowly at first, gradually picking up pace. "See, not so bad."

Klein looked over at the woman in pyjamas mentioned by Michelle. He had not noticed her before but now he did see her he smiled. The sight of this woman, completely oblivious to what other people thought of her was an intriguing sight and rather than think her a fool Klein found the idea quite uplifting. If she can walk around a gathering of international officials without shoes or proper clothes, he thought, then I have nothing to be embarrassed about dancing with this marvellous woman.

She was right, it wasn’t so bad. In fact it was quite exciting. He still felt a little awkward, but that was more to do with the fact that he didn’t want to make Michelle look bad in front of everyone. He didn’t mind what people thought of him, but he desperately did not want to make this woman look stupid in front of everyone with his poor dancing ability.

With a swift flit of his eyes he looked at the hand on his shoulder. No wedding ring. Good-that meant no angry husband sat watching enviously somewhere. A smile spread across his face and he began to loosen up a little. With growing confidence his moves became more fluent and he felt like he was learning from the master.

“No, not so bad at all.” He said. “When they said you were an exquisite dancer, President, they were right. By the way, you can call me Nathaniel. I feel horribly uncomfortable when people like you call me by some poxy title.”

The King strolled into the hotel confident that he would win the admiration of all its guests. It was no coincidence that he was wearing more or less the same assembly of accessories that he sported in the famous portrait (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b6/William_IV.jpg) of him by Sir Gaviscilio. In addition to these, he also held a jeweled platinum scepter which was used as a cane. That is not to say that the King had difficulties walking, but it was merely fashionable for men to carry canes or swordsticks.

The King did not mingle with any of the other guests at first, since they appeared to be boorish commoners. After not too long, however, some guests from the Dominion had arrived. These were the invites of invites, the lower aristocracy that were unlikely to be even considered Peers. The King did not recognize most of them, and the few that he had met before he had forgotten.

“Lord Rodderwick,” said he, “some of these men appear vaguely familiar.”

“Yes, my liege,” said Rodderwick. “That one over there is Sir Hornsby. It would seem that many of your subjects were invited to this ball.”

Sir Hornsby and some others made their way over to the King, prostrating themselves before him. The King held out his arm, which was covered in rings, bracelets, and other assorted jewelry. The foremost of these items was an enormous ring made of jet and topped with a huge 4000 carat diamond. This hand had been resting on the scepter to aid the King in supporting the ring's weight. His arm thus extended, Sir Hornsby and the others kissed the ring, all while the King looked the other way so that he may mercifully spare them his witness of their humility.

The King was quickly bored by the procession of loyal subjects seeking to kiss the royal hand, and ordered some of the knights to keep these lowly aristocrats a comfortable distance away from the royal personage. Even after this, some antics continued with many seeking to gain the attention of the King.

After having been at the ball for a few minutes, Lord Rodderwick interrupted the King. “My liege, I feel that it is my duty to find President Klein and formally introduce myself to him on your behalf, as well as thank him for his gracious efforts as host.”

“Yes, Lord Rodderwick, that is your duty, but you need not do it now. I would like you to acknowledge the Palerian despot at some point in the evening, but it would be embarrassing if you were to try to compete for the attention of such a pretentious man. For now, we shall try to find an interesting conversation with a more genteel individual.”

“Harmony, I presume? My name is Sophia, Sophia Hirsch. Can I get you a drink from the bar? It’s all on the house!”

"It's nice to meet you," Harmony smiled. "I'd like a coffee, if you have any. I was just thinking of going out and looking for a doughnut shop."

Sophia grinned at the woman.

“A doughnut shop?” she said. “If you want a doughnut I’m sure I could ask in the kitchen. Coffee…I’m sure they had some coffee at the bar earlier. Come over with me and we can have a chat.”

Grimmeberger was thinking that his decision to leave Derkins behind was a good one. The old police chief would have been at home in the Gestapo, blunt, fascist bastard that he was. Would'nt do to have him at an official function, useful as he was. And the Governor-General of Illyricum-et-Dalmatia was busy, helping to put down the RBPA insurrection, so that left Von Bayern with him. He gave a sideways glance at the young Col.General. For his youth (Markus von Bayern was 28), he was an excellent officer, had a certain dignity and poise, and, most importantly, could talk to normal people, unlike Derkins and, alas, Field Marshal Wheeler, who tended to go way over people's heads in conversation. The two Generals - one a Generalissimo, the other just a General,- approached the guards at the front of the building. Grimmeberger was considering the best way to greet them, when Markus did it for him.
"Hello!" Von Bayern said cheerfully. "We are the delegation from the Fanboyist Federation. Could you please direct us to where the ball is taking place?"
Christ! Grimmeberger thought happily. I need some excuse to promote the boy! Woe on any nation that fucks with him. He'd twist their arm in meetings, then blast the shit outta them!
He took another glance at the poised young officer. He did give a quick sigh. Markus was wearing the khaki field uniform of the Federal Army, because he apparently couldn't be bothered to wear a dress uniform. Not that the battle-dress uniform was particularly fancy. But at least it was a proper grey-green, and had medals on it (not many. They were too heavy, and Grimmeberger was a notoriously blunt and practical fellow). But it was more formal than something he had seen Markus wearing, often enough, in the trenches, so to speak.

Akitaro began his rounds finding the President of the country. He had to thank his gracious host.

Atoli began snacking. "Mmm." For once a party that served real food, over the strange and seemingly unnatural foods like caviar. Still she appeared to be the only 12 year old in the building. Of course she begged to come to the party, but she hopped to meet other kids of heads of state. She knew it was an adult party but still. Oh well, she was enjoying her time.

“A doughnut shop? If you want a doughnut I’m sure I could ask in the kitchen. Coffee…I’m sure they had some coffee at the bar earlier. Come over with me and we can have a chat.”

"It wasn't a doughnut per se that I was hoping for," Harmony said. "It was a better class of people - present company excluded." She followed Sophia.

She thought she could still smell diesel even after she had showered. Maybe she should have scrubbed inside her nostrils. But instead of being an embarassment, the odour - real or imagined - was a pleasant memory. So far, the cargo hold of the Hercules had been the highlight of the trip.

Kavinkov's smile disappeared in an instant as he swiftly sidestepped the spray of bright, red paint. The man, clearly a Communist, was now screaming with rage and tugging furiously to get free. Red Scum, he thought to himself as he and his entourage scurried toward the relative safety of the hotel's interior. They entered the building with no fanfare and stopped suddenly.

"Romaniski, Yevtushenko, I want safeties off from now on. Next time a Commie throws something at me it might not just be red paint." Kavinkov growled silently as his two guards neared him.

"Of course sire, do you want us to accompany you for the rest of the ball." Romaniski asked, the unease clear on his grizzled face. Yevtushenko nodded in reply.

"I do not need to be babysat, I am more then capable of taking care of myself," Kavinkov replied, tapping the concealed revolver in his greatcoat, "however, I want you two to keep watch at the entrance. Help the local security if you need to. Feel free to get a drink, but no more then two. I can't have you two drunk tonight."

"Yes sire." The two guards said simultaneously before they turned on their polished black heels and marched away.

Now, time to get acquainted , Kavinkov thought to himself as he walked toward the bar.

Klein looked over at the woman in pyjamas mentioned by Michelle. He had not noticed her before but now he did see her he smiled. The sight of this woman, completely oblivious to what other people thought of her was an intriguing sight and rather than think her a fool Klein found the idea quite uplifting. If she can walk around a gathering of international officials without shoes or proper clothes, he thought, then I have nothing to be embarrassed about dancing with this marvellous woman.

She was right, it wasn’t so bad. In fact it was quite exciting. He still felt a little awkward, but that was more to do with the fact that he didn’t want to make Michelle look bad in front of everyone. He didn’t mind what people thought of him, but he desperately did not want to make this woman look stupid in front of everyone with his poor dancing ability.

With a swift flit of his eyes he looked at the hand on his shoulder. No wedding ring. Good-that meant no angry husband sat watching enviously somewhere. A smile spread across his face and he began to loosen up a little. With growing confidence his moves became more fluent and he felt like he was learning from the master.

“No, not so bad at all.” He said. “When they said you were an exquisite dancer, President, they were right. By the way, you can call me Nathaniel. I feel horribly uncomfortable when people like you call me by some poxy title.”

Michelle let out a slight giggle, as she began to think that Nathaniel was indeed charming. She could still see the sense of nervousness in his eyes, so she moved in a little closer. As the song came to its conclusion, she removed her hand from his shoulder, and gave him a curtsy, "Well, Nathaniel. I will not monopolize your time anymore. I'm sure there are other leaders seeking your presence. It was a pleasure dancing with you. Perhaps our paths will cross again on this fine evening."

Atoli went to the bar. She asked for any non-alcoholic drink. The bartender handed her a soda. She turned to go ahead and mingle with someone. So much for not talking to strangers as she was told as a small child.

"Some party huh?" She said like a typical teenager.

After being directed into the ballroom, the Generalissimo and General split up, eager to meet other leaders, and possibly fit in a little bit of state craft (because Grimmeberger was just that practical, being a statesman at a party).

Grimmeberger managed to locate the host of the ball, and approached him.
"Good evenin,'" Grimmeberger greeted, relaxed. "My name is Steven Grimmeberger, and I'm the Generalissimo and Head of State for the Fanboyist Federation of North Atlantic Territories (just call it FFNAT, its much easier), wondering if there was anything you'd like to talk about," he said easily.

"Some party huh?" She said like a typical teenager.

Michelle saw the young girl as she was passing by towards the bar and decided to greet her. As she approached she gave a little wave, and a kind smile, "Hi there. I am Michelle Thoreson, President of the Pure Democracy of Jarridia. How are you?"

Michelle saw the young girl as she was passing by towards the bar and decided to greet her. As she approached she gave a little wave, and a kind smile, "Hi there. I am Michelle Thoreson, President of the Pure Democracy of Jarridia. How are you?"

"I'm good, ma'am, how are you? I'm Atoli Daichi, I'm First Daughter."

"I'm good, ma'am, how are you? I'm Atoli Daichi, I'm First Daughter."

Michelle looked at her, then motioned a little to the crowd, "Please, call me Michelle. You are amongst friends...for the most part. How old are, Atoli? Are you in school?"

Meanwhile, Markus had been loose, and had wandered over to the bar. After all, a beer or two wouldn't hurt. He was a German, after all, he mused. He guessed he could probably have drunk half the people there (if not more) under the table when he was four. He walked up to the bar where Atoli and Michelle were talking, and asked for a beer.
"A good dark beer, please, and none of that British piss some of ya call beer, right?" he requested simply. He leaned against the counter, looking outward, and looking very, very bored.

Michelle looked at her, then motioned a little to the crowd, "Please, call me Michelle. You are amongst friends...for the most part. How old are, Atoli? Are you in school?"

"Oh, well okay, Michelle." Not often Atoli could call adults by their first name.

"I'm 12, and yes, I do go to school. It's a private school generally reserved for the children of our Government, though we have some just generally wealthy people there. My Pa says it will make me into a refined young lady who's well educated."

"Oh, well okay, Michelle." Not often Atoli could call adults by their first name.

"I'm 12, and yes, I do go to school. It's a private school generally reserved for the children of our Government, though we have some just generally wealthy people there. My Pa says it will make me into a refined young lady who's well educated."

Michelle slid a rogue section of her hair back behind her ear with her right hand, "Your father sounds like a smart man. I don't know much about your nation, but from what I have heard it is a genuinely nice place. It must be something to be such a young woman and be surrounding by leaders from around the world."

"A good dark beer, please, and none of that British piss some of ya call beer, right?" he requested simply. He leaned against the counter, looking outward, and looking very, very bored.

She waves at the bartender for another Martini, and notices Markus from The Fanboyists yammering on about beer at the bar. She gives him a smile and a kind nod 'hello', then turns her attention back to Atoli.

Michelle slid a rogue section of her hair back behind her ear with her right hand, "Your father sounds like a smart man. I don't know much about your nation, but from what I have heard it is a genuinely nice place. It must be something to be such a young woman and be surrounding by leaders from around the world."



She waves at the bartender for another Martini, and notices Markus from The Fanboyists yammering on about beer at the bar. She gives him a smile and a kind nod 'hello', then turns her attention back to Atoli.

Atoli also gave a greeting.

"Yeah, he loves me of course, and I kind of begged for him to let me come along. And I've liked it. Good food, and nice people."

Sophia had disappeared in search of doughnuts or God knows what. Harmony noticed the teenage girl at the other end of the bar and inflated her cheeks and crossed her eyes at her.

Atoli also gave a greeting.

"Yeah, he loves me of course, and I kind of begged for him to let me come along. And I've liked it. Good food, and nice people."

Michelle let out a little laugh, "Yeah. This hasn't been too bad. I love a good party, but sometimes these can be a little stuffy. Everyone tends to act like something they're not." Her eyes glance up and notice the woman in pajamas making funny faces. She laughs to herself, as she has been intrigued by this woman for a good portion of the evening. Even though she knew the faces were probably for Atoli's amusement, for good measure she used her fingers as a masks and stuck her tongue out as well. Sometimes even world leaders can have a little fun.

Michelle let out a little laugh, "Yeah. This hasn't been too bad. I love a good party, but sometimes these can be a little stuffy. Everyone tends to act like something they're not." Her eyes glance up and notice the woman in pajamas making funny faces. She laughs to herself, as she has been intrigued by this woman for a good portion of the evening. Even though she knew the faces were probably for Atoli's amusement, for good measure she used her fingers as a masks and stuck her tongue out as well. Sometimes even world leaders can have a little fun.

"Oh don't I know that as well. You can tell I have a pretty thick twained accent. I was told to speak more formally. But I'm like my Pa, professional and real."

Harmony strolled over to the teenager and the lady dressed as a hooker. "Harmony Chang," she said, "from Fatatatutti. That Sophia Schultz, or whatever, seems nice. Everybody else seems to have a stick up their.... Well, there's no polite way to finish that sentence, is there?"

Harmony strolled over to the teenager and the lady dressed as a hooker. "Harmony Chang," she said, "from Fatatatutti. That Sophia Schultz, or whatever, seems nice. Everybody else seems to have a stick up their.... Well, there's no polite way to finish that sentence, is there?"

"Heh, no Ma'am I don't believe there is. Nice to meet ya, I'm Atoli Daichi."

Harmony strolled over to the teenager and the lady dressed as a hooker. "Harmony Chang," she said, "from Fatatatutti. That Sophia Schultz, or whatever, seems nice. Everybody else seems to have a stick up their.... Well, there's no polite way to finish that sentence, is there?"

Michelle smiled at the woman's approach. "It's nice to meet you Harmony. I'm Michelle Thoreson, of Jarridia. I haven't met Sophia, but Nathaniel Klein was very polite." She glanced around the room and then back at Harmony and Atoli, "We were just talking about how these things always seem stuffy and no one acts themselves. I do enjoy a good party."

She waves at the bartender for another Martini, and notices Markus from The Fanboyists yammering on about beer at the bar. She gives him a smile and a kind nod 'hello', then turns her attention back to Atoli.

Von Bayern nodded, and as he picked up his beer (which was, he thankfully noted, to his satisfaction), caught the nod and nodded back, and briefly considered wandering over. For all his natural cheer and eagerness, he was not at home in social gatherings. Which was why he was always at least a little miffed when Grimmeberger decided to take him to these things (A general's place is on a battlefield; hor'douerves are for politicians, he thought with mild distaste.) He walked over to the growing group.
"Hello? Sorry, its just everyone else is already talking, and I've always been taught its rude to interrupt conversations and..." he stammered hurridly and nerviously. He was bad at regular social events. Conversing in an official situation, he was fine. Everywhere else, around strangers, he got very, very nervous.

"Heh, no Ma'am I don't believe there is. Nice to meet ya, I'm Atoli Daichi."

"I'm not a ma'am. I'm a Harmony. Was that your father that you came in with? He looks a lot like my father, except about a million years younger."

Von Bayern nodded, and as he picked up his beer (which was, he thankfully noted, to his satisfaction), caught the nod and nodded back, and briefly considered wandering over. For all his natural cheer and eagerness, he was not at home in social gatherings. Which was why he was always at least a little miffed when Grimmeberger decided to take him to these things (A general's place is on a battlefield; hor'douerves are for politicians, he thought with mild distaste.) He walked over to the growing group.
"Hello? Sorry, its just everyone else is already talking, and I've always been taught its rude to interrupt conversations and..." he stammered hurridly and nerviously. He was bad at regular social events. Conversing in an official situation, he was fine. Everywhere else, around strangers, he got very, very nervous.

Michelle grinned at the General, and placed her hand out to him, "Hi. I'm Michelle Thoreson from Jarridia. It is a pleasure to meet you. Don't be nervous, come right in."

"Heh, no Ma'am I don't believe there is. Nice to meet ya, I'm Atoli Daichi."

"I'm not a ma'am. I'm a Harmony. Was that your father that you came in with? He looks a lot like my father, except about a million years younger."

"Yes, that was my father. And our Vice President."

"We were just talking about how these things always seem stuffy and no one acts themselves. I do enjoy a good party."

"I was under the impression that I was supposed to represent my country," Harmony said, "so that's what I'm doing. In Fatatatutti, matching top and bottom is formal. Wearing both top and bottom at the same time is semi-formal. You should try to get to Fatatatutti during National Luau Week. It starts at Easter and goes on for a month or two."

Markus took the hand and walked into the group. "Thank you, Ma'am. An honor and a pleasure." He turned to them all. "I'm Markus von Bayern, Col.General, Fanboyist Federal Army. You all are...?"

"We were just talking about how these things always seem stuffy and no one acts themselves. I do enjoy a good party."

"I was under the impression that I was supposed to represent my country," Harmony said, "so that's what I'm doing. In Fatatatutti, matching top and bottom is formal. Wearing both top and bottom at the same time is semi-formal. You should try to get to Fatatatutti during National Luau Week. It starts at Easter and goes on for a month or two."

"Well representing your nation doesn't mean you shouldn't be your self."

"You should try to get to Fatatatutti during National Luau Week. It starts at Easter and goes on for a month or two."

"That sounds like a lot of fun. I'll have to add it to my must-do's. And as usual, as the time approaches I invite you all to the Jarridian International Music Festival. What ever your favorite jams, we'll have it."

Markus took the hand and walked into the group. "Thank you, Ma'am. An honor and a pleasure." He turned to them all. "I'm Markus von Bayern, Col.General, Fanboyist Federal Army. You all are...?"

"You are welcome, and please call me Michelle."

It had always been a delight, the Consul once said, to explore the world. The sheer thrill of visiting other leaders and learning from them had always excited Isabella Cullen whenever she thought of it, and the International Ball in Parilisa was considered to be a great way to harness that excitement. After making sure that the best dress was selected, that the government ministers knew what they would be doing while she was out, and all necessary things were dealt with, Isabella and Leah Miller - the Foreign Minister - headed over to Parilisa for the International Ball, Violet Greenwood was trailing them from behind. It had been said that Violet was romantically linked with the President of Parilisa but such rumors could never be proven. Who could say that she was even in love with him? Couldn't she have just been friends with him since their first meeting?

After their private jet slowly landed upon the Parilisan airspace, Isabella and her companions made their way to the site of the ball, the memory of the Emily Braithwaite issue still etched into her mind. Nonetheless, she wouldn't let that get in her way of enjoying herself at the ball. As they entered the palace in their lavish evening dresses, the Consul began looking for the President. She noticed a twelve year old girl talking to a guest and smiled. Isabella had often thought of settling down and having children, but the right man wasn't around, and she was too dignified to just leap into some man's bed. Too elegant, too virtuous. The Forelanders took their seats at a spare table and began talking amongst themselves, hoping to deal with whatever that they had on their minds.

"Well representing your nation doesn't mean you shouldn't be your self."

"Exactly. If everybody is going to act all prim and proper, we might as well all be from the same place."

"You are welcome, and please call me Michelle."

Markus nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Michelle. You are from...?"

Markus nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Michelle. You are from...?"

"Oh, how forgetful of me. I am the President of the Pure Democracy of Jarridia."

"Ah. I'm from the Fanboyist Federation. An honor to meet you!" Markus said enthusiastically. "So...how has your evening been?"

"Ah. I'm from the Fanboyist Federation. An honor to meet you!" Markus said enthusiastically. "So...how has your evening been?"

It has been well, so far. More of a relaxation time for me as there have been a few recent happenings in Jarridia that have kept me busy." She sat her glass on the bar and grabbed the fresh Martini bartender had provided for her, "Other than that I had the opportunity to meet President Klein, a very polite gentleman. And, of course Harmony and Atoli. How about you? I saw you discussing your taste in beer with the bartender, while Jarridia is not known for its beer, we do have a few micro-breweries in our northern regions that have some good dark ales and stouts."

"And I'm From Eeri."

Anaru went over to the bar after unscessful attempts to locate the Host she went to the bar. "Water please."

"Oh hello, other guests I see. Anaru Yamashita, The Kingdom of Ang Philippines."

Anaru went over to the bar after unscessful attempts to locate the Host she went to the bar. "Water please."

"Oh hello, other guests I see. Anaru Yamashita, The Kingdom of Ang Philippines."

"Good evening ma'am. I'm Atoli Daichi, I'm the daughter of President Daichi."

"Gah, not only are we late..." Nathaniel cursed, "We need to get one of those new Jets, Anne, travel faster. This sailing everywhere takes too long for the modern world." He desperately tried to get comfortable in the much-too-tight suit shirt and jacket, it was rubbing his furr the wrong ways, it restricted his movement and his fur had gotten painfully stuck in the zipper multiple times. On top of that he felt like he was being strangled by... "This... Infernal... Torture device! How can Humans stand these things? What are they called again?"

"Ties Honey, They call them ties." The thin, rather petite, fox-like Canid chuckled softly as he reached up to help him with it. "Though I must say, you've got to have the thickest rough I've ever seen on a Male. No wonder your having so much trouble, all that fur being tightened around your throat by this thing." She shook her head and clucked her tongue at him.

"See? Just another reason why ladies are luckier than men. You don't have to deal with these god-awful things." He shook his head and was rewarded by a smack over his ear for messing up the knot and getting more furr in it. "Sorry, sorry Anne. I just frustrates me."

"Hun, your hackles are rising. Your fighting "Spirit" may be praised at home. But not here, calm down. Will you?" She sighed and finally got the tie on correctly, or as correctly as it could look on a musclebound werewolf-like canid.

---

"Steady boys, Steady. Remember, this 'ere is th' bloody damned Prez'dent's Carraige. We can't have it goin' an' fallin' an' breakin'. Y'know?"

The beautiful, but armored, carraige swung carefully out and down onto the nearby peir where the Hitch of four Greater War hounds waited. The Hounds were hitched up and the guards, while unarmed with firearms, waited with electrified "Stun Prods" which would safely (If not gently) move bystanders or people who got too close to the carraige or the mounts away.

---

"Shall we my beautiful Vixen?" Stated Nathaniel as he held out histightly sleeved, heavily muscled arm to his wife who was standing beside him. She of course nodded and slipped her arm up through his, and they proceeded down the gangplank.

They would either be met by legions of reporters or by nobody, the freighter seemed just slightly better than the basic tramp freighter and would not cause undue awe.

They boarded the carraige and their cavalry escorts waved to the carraige driver. "Let's move this thing!" Shouted the lead officer who started moving, "Hooh!!" And the wagon began moving thorugh the streets to the designated Hotel.

---

Minutes later, the two would step out of the wagon. Taking up a massive amount of room for the escorts, Hounds, and wagon itself They'd nearly hold up four Limos worth of space. While Lady Anne would step out of the wagon, Nathaniel seemed to unfold out of it.

He loomed over just about anyone at his height, broad shouldered and heavily muscled he looked more like a brawler or a heavy weight boxer than a President. One could possibly say he might've been considered "Poor" for the way his suit seemed painted into his form rather than buttoned and zipped, as he obviously couldn't get a "Custom tailored" suit. His claws were expertly cleaned and sharpened, and he tried his very best to put forward the best face of his country that he could.

As he stepped into the Hotel, the claws on his footpads "Scritch-scratched" on the floor. Making both Nathaniel and his wife, Anne, grimace. Perfect, not only were they the only Sutfien in the building... They could be heard across the building aswell as they walked.

Either way, they Gingerly stepped into the room hoping not to make too much of a scene.

"Oh hello, other guests I see. Anaru Yamashita, The Kingdom of Ang Philippines."

"Hello, Queen Yamashita. I am Michelle Thoreson, of the Pure Democracy of Jarridia." Michelle gave a pleasant smile to Anaru and slightly bowed her head for respect, "I was chatting with President Klein earlier, but I'm not complete sure where he went off to."

Grand Duke Kavinkov approached the bar and handed the nearest bartender five notes of the local currency.

"What'll you have sir?" The rather portly bartender asked, smiling at his rather large donation.

"Two shots of the strongest vodka you have, please." Kavinkov asked, returning the smile. The bartender nodded and bent down to retrieve a drink from a cabinet. After a few minutes of rummaging, the man stood back up and placed a large, clear flask of strong alcohol on the table. The man expertly removed the flask's stopper and poured a generous amount of the strong smelling vodka into the two shot glasses. Kavinkov accepted the drinks happily and took them both down in a single drink. His throat and stomach burned slightly, but he had always loved that feeling. It reminded him of his small hometown in northern Tannenberg where he would always drink on Volzgrad's dark and cold nights.

Kavinkov noticed a large crowd of people talking vigorously to his left. He quickly left his bar stool and approached the group.

"I apologize if I am interrupting anything, but this ball would be pointless if we did not all socialize. My name is Grand Duke Alexander Vasilovic Kavinkov II, Volzgrad's Head of State.

"Hello, Queen Yamashita. I am Michelle Thoreson, of the Pure Democracy of Jarridia." Michelle gave a pleasant smile to Anaru and slightly bowed her head for respect, "I was chatting with President Klein earlier, but I'm not complete sure where he went off to."

"Pleasure is mine. No need to bow to me, you aren't from my Country. I appreciate the gesture. May I call you Michelle? And you Atoli, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure I'll take pleasure in meeting your father. How old are you dear?"

"Pleasure is mine. No need to bow to me, you aren't from my Country. I appreciate the gesture. May I call you Michelle? And you Atoli, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure I'll take pleasure in meeting your father. How old are you dear?"

"I'm 12 years old."

"I'm 12 years old."

"Ah I have a duaghter about your age."

Grand Duke Kavinkov approached the bar and handed the nearest bartender five notes of the local currency.

"What'll you have sir?" The rather portly bartender asked, smiling at his rather large donation.

"Two shots of the strongest vodka you have, please." Kavinkov asked, returning the smile. The bartender nodded and bent down to retrieve a drink from a cabinet. After a few minutes of rummaging, the man stood back up and placed a large, clear flask of strong alcohol on the table. The man expertly removed the flask's stopper and poured a generous amount of the strong smelling vodka into the two shot glasses. Kavinkov accepted the drinks happily and took them both down in a single drink. His throat and stomach burned slightly, but he had always loved that feeling. It reminded him of his small hometown in northern Tannenberg where he would always drink on Volzgrad's dark and cold nights.

Kavinkov noticed a large crowd of people talking vigorously to his left. He quickly left his bar stool and approached the group.

"I apologize if I am interrupting anything, but this ball would be pointless if we did not all socialize. My name is Grand Duke Alexander Vasilovic Kavinkov II, Volzgrad's Head of State.

"How do you do, I'm Anaru Yamashita, I'm Queen of The Ang Phillipines."

"Pleasure is mine. No need to bow to me, you aren't from my Country. I appreciate the gesture. May I call you Michelle? And you Atoli, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure I'll take pleasure in meeting your father. How old are you dear?"

"You may call me Michelle. We are all equals here."

"Ah I have a duaghter about your age."

"Ah if you ever come to Eeri, or if I ever come to Ang Philippines, I'd love to meet her."

"You may call me Michelle. We are all equals here."

"Wonderful, Michelle."

"I apologize if I am interrupting anything, but this ball would be pointless if we did not all socialize. My name is Grand Duke Alexander Vasilovic Kavinkov II, Volzgrad's Head of State.

"I see you're drinking rocket fuel. Harmony Chang. Juggler and clown."

"Ah if you ever come to Eeri, or if I ever come to Ang Philippines, I'd love to meet her."

"Absolutley."

It has been well, so far. More of a relaxation time for me as there have been a few recent happenings in Jarridia that have kept me busy." She sat her glass on the bar and grabbed the fresh Martini bartender had provided for her, "Other than that I had the opportunity to meet President Klein, a very polite gentleman. And, of course Harmony and Atoli. How about you? I saw you discussing your taste in beer with the bartender, while Jarridia is not known for its beer, we do have a few micro-breweries in our northern regions that have some good dark ales and stouts."

"Well, that's good to hear. Its always good to relax a little, especially if you've got a lot on your plate." he paused for a moment to rub an old wound (which had left a nasty scar) across the bridge of his nose. "I havn't done much, as the General (he's the Federation's leader, Steven Grimmeberger) and I just got here. Steven is looking for our host, President Klein. He pretty much said I was free to just talk and meet people." He paused again. "As for the beer...well, I like stouts and good full-bodied lagers, mostly. I'm used to home-brewed; in Innsbruck, there's a whole bunch of microbreweries, and I've at least tried some since I was 16. I am a German, after all," he said with a chuckle. "But, it's pretty good here. Over in Carnegie (OOC: Pittsburgh) its pretty good, but I take what I get, 'cause I only get to have a little every now and then. Can't have a drunk general, now, can you?"

"It is a pleasure to meet you both." Kavinkov replied as he shook hands with Harmony and then Queen Yamashita.

The Vaar delegation eventually migrated towards the bar. Prince Johannes opened his wallet and frowned- several 10 guilder-sterling bills with his portrait on them looked back at him. "Sam, I don't suppose you remebered to get some currency exchanged," he mumbled to his aide.

"I did, actually," said Sam. He handed Johannes several bills in varying denominations. The Prince looked at the bartender and said "Two beers", placing some money on the bar.

"What'll it be?" The bartender asked.

"Prince Henri," said the Prince automatically, giving them name of Vaarshire's most popular lager. "Oh, wait. Nevermind. Bet you've never heard of..."

"I beg to differ," the bartender interrupted, pulling two bottles from under the bar. "Got all kinds of stuff for this shindig tonight."

The Prince smiled. "Because what's diplomacy without alcohol, right?" He took one bottle and handed the other to Sam.

"But sir, I don't..." Sam said weakly.

"You do now. Now let's go socialize," said the Prince to Sam in Dutch. The two walked over to the leaders gathering near the bar. "I don't suppose you have room for two more?" Prince Johannes asked. "I'm Johannes de Vaar, Prince of Vaarshire, and this is my senior aide, Sam."

Von Bayern turned to the new arrivals. "Hello! I'm Markus von Bayern. I'm a Col.General with the Federal Armed Forces of the Fanboyist Federation. You all are?" (OOC: to Volzgrad and Vaarshire)

The Vaar delegation eventually migrated towards the bar. Prince Johannes opened his wallet and frowned- several 10 guilder-sterling bills with his portrait on them looked back at him. "Sam, I don't suppose you remebered to get some currency exchanged," he mumbled to his aide.

"I did, actually," said Sam. He handed Johannes several bills in varying denominations. The Prince looked at the bartender and said "Two beers", placing some money on the bar.

"What'll it be?" The bartender asked.

"Prince Henri," said the Prince automatically, giving them name of Vaarshire's most popular lager. "Oh, wait. Nevermind. Bet you've never heard of..."

"I beg to differ," the bartender interrupted, pulling two bottles from under the bar. "Got all kinds of stuff for this shindig tonight."

The Prince smiled. "Because what's diplomacy without alcohol, right?" He took one bottle and handed the other to Sam.

"But sir, I don't..." Sam said weakly.

"You do now. Now let's go socialize," said the Prince to Sam in Dutch. The two walked over to the leaders gathering near the bar. "I don't suppose you have room for two more?" Prince Johannes asked. "I'm Johannes de Vaar, Prince of Vaarshire, and this is my senior aide, Sam."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Prince de Vaar," Kavinkov said as he shook the man's hand, "and with you as well Colonel General von Bayern. I am Grand Duke Alexander Kavinkov II, Volzgrad's Head of State."

"Prince Johannes de Vaar," said the Prince to General von Bayern. "Pleasure to meet you. And you, Grand Duke." He shook their hands. Sam weakly nodded in their general direction.

"You do now. Now let's go socialize," said the Prince to Sam in Dutch. The two walked over to the leaders gathering near the bar. "I don't suppose you have room for two more?" Prince Johannes asked. "I'm Johannes de Vaar, Prince of Vaarshire, and this is my senior aide, Sam."

Michelle turns around and smiles at the newcomers, holding her Martini in her left hand. Her pink dress still glittering in the lights of the ball room. Reaching her hand out to them, she says in her usual gentle voice, "Good evening, Gentlemen. I am Michelle Thoreson, President of the Pure Democracy of Jarridia. How are you both doing tonight?"

Klein was walking over to the bar when Sophia grabbed him from behind and quickly flung him into another dance. She placed her arms around his neck and whispered softly in his ear.

“Get your lazy arse over to the bar and introduce yourself to your guests. They seem to have gathered over there.”

“I was trying!” he laughed “But some crazy ambassador just grabbed me and made me dance!”

“Miss Thoreson is not crazy.” Replied Sophia with an intelligent smile. “Oh, you meant me? Well, go and talk to them. You’d probably get on with Harmony, the one in the pyjamas. She rambles on about going to working class places instead of these stiff events, just like you do. You should probably have a word with that monarch over there, the one surrounded by the massive retinue of scabby little aristocrats.”

“Just so long as he doesn’t expect me to call him “majesty” I’m sure he’ll be fine. Can I go to the bar now?”

She smiled and let him go as she slipped away elegantly to the kitchens. Klein watched her with a mild amusement; Hirsch was the best friend he had ever had, she was like a sister to him.

Carefully avoiding the waiters carrying trays of champagne around he crossed the dance floor and came towards the bar, where a large group had now assembled. He knew them all by sight, Sophia had made him study all their applications carefully so he knew how to address them and what they were likely to be like. He had already had the pleasure of meeting President Thoreson and Sophia had met pyjama lady, but other than that he had not really made himself known. With a little bit of nervousness in his stomach he strode over to the assembly and introduced himself.

“Hello there ladies and gentlemen, I am Klein. It is an honour to welcome you all to Parilisa this evening. I trust everything is in order? The accommodation, the drinks, the transport, everything is acceptable?”

Kavinkov was still introducing himself to the other guests when President Klein came strolling over to the bar. The Grand Duke was quite aware that he had to make a good impression on the man for he was the one hosting this ball.

"Indeed Mr. Klein, the ball has been going splendidly thus far." Kavinkov complimented as he shook hands with the President. "I apologize for not introducing myself earlier, I am Grand Duke Alexander Kavinkov II of Volzgrad."

“An honour to meet you, Mr Kavinkov.” Klein said with a smile as he shook the Duke’s hand. “A security guard has informed me that a protester tried to attack you upon your arrival today. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Klein knew that the protester was now sat in a police cell and would be interviewed later. Though he hoped this was to be a one-of attack the police had increased their presence on the streets of Sylvaburg to make sure the peaceful protests did not get out of hand.

“Hello there ladies and gentlemen, I am Klein. It is an honour to welcome you all to Parilisa this evening. I trust everything is in order? The accommodation, the drinks, the transport, everything is acceptable?”

"Well, I had to get my own transport and it looks like I'm going to have to make my own coffee too. But the shower was hot," Harmony smiled.

President Nathaniel Zanzibar, Rogue Nation of Sutufinai, sighed lightly. "Well Anne, goodluck. Your throwing me to the dogs, you know that right?" He shivered lightly as Anne chuckledl ightly,

"Oh get over it. You can face congress as a radical reformer, but not a bunch of world leaders?" He barked a laugh before shoving him towards the bar and walking off.

Nathaniel padded over towards the bar, his footpaws 'scritch-scratch'ing on the floor annoyingly ash e arrived at the bar. Looking over the drinks he sighed, "Just...." He looked around the room before sighing, "Just give me a mug of water."

"Water?" THe bartender asked, confused, "A-alright then." He returned quickly with a simple mug of water and handed it to Nathaniel. However nevertheless he was astounded by ten of the large and hefty silver coins.

Nathaniel then turned and looked at the groups of people before him, his tail hanging straight down, barely moving side to side. Certainly disconcerted by the group of obviously powerful and high ranking world leaders in the room.

For pretty much the first time in his life, the massive and imposing wolf felt like a little fish in a school of Piranhas.

He took a deep breath and stepped over towards the group, holding out his hand lightly he somewhat-stuttered out, "Nathaniel Zanzibar, The Rogue Nation of Sutufinai."

President Nathaniel Zanzibar, Rogue Nation of Sutufinai, sighed lightly. "Well Anne, goodluck. Your throwing me to the dogs, you know that right?" He shivered lightly as Anne chuckledl ightly,

"Oh get over it. You can face congress as a radical reformer, but not a bunch of world leaders?" He barked a laugh before shoving him towards the bar and walking off.

Nathaniel padded over towards the bar, his footpaws 'scritch-scratch'ing on the floor annoyingly ash e arrived at the bar. Looking over the drinks he sighed, "Just...." He looked around the room before sighing, "Just give me a mug of water."

"Water?" THe bartender asked, confused, "A-alright then." He returned quickly with a simple mug of water and handed it to Nathaniel. However nevertheless he was astounded by ten of the large and hefty silver coins.

Nathaniel then turned and looked at the groups of people before him, his tail hanging straight down, barely moving side to side. Certainly disconcerted by the group of obviously powerful and high ranking world leaders in the room.

For pretty much the first time in his life, the massive and imposing wolf felt like a little fish in a school of Piranhas.

He took a deep breath and stepped over towards the group, holding out his hand lightly he somewhat-stuttered out, "Nathaniel Zanzibar, The Rogue Nation of Sutufinai."

OOC:Sorry, this guy is a wolf? Err, did it say that in your application? I'd prefer it fi this thread was at least slightly realistic. :)

OOC: Uhm... yeah, >.>;; He kinda is, my nation is populated by anthropomorphic canines. It did say that in my application, and I tried my best to hint at it via my first post here.

"Well, I had to get my own transport and it looks like I'm going to have to make my own coffee too. But the shower was hot," Harmony smiled.

Klein was taken aback; did her nation not have enough money to pay for the flight? If that was the case she should have informed Parilisa, and suitable arrangements could easily have been made. He motioned for the barman.

"A coffee for this lady, if you please sir." he said with a smile. The barman nodded and returned with a cup of steaming hot drink. "I apologise that you had to find your own way here, transport could easily have been arranged if you had asked for it." he said, turning to Harmony.

OOC: Uhm... yeah, >.>;; He kinda is, my nation is populated by anthropomorphic canines. It did say that in my application, and I tried my best to hint at it via my first post here.

OOC: I obviously did not read it carefuly enough, for which I apologise. I don't want to kick you out of the thread so instead I'll simply imagine that this guy is human; you feel free to RP him as what you like. An approprate compromise, methinks!

OOC: Works for me, Just take him as a "Rather large looking human", I mean, the definition of Anthropomorphic is "Human shaped". ;) I'm not offended if you arn't.

President Nathaniel Zanzibar, Rogue Nation of Sutufinai, sighed lightly. "Well Anne, goodluck. Your throwing me to the dogs, you know that right?" He shivered lightly as Anne chuckledl ightly,

"Oh get over it. You can face congress as a radical reformer, but not a bunch of world leaders?" He barked a laugh before shoving him towards the bar and walking off.

Nathaniel padded over towards the bar, his footpaws 'scritch-scratch'ing on the floor annoyingly ash e arrived at the bar. Looking over the drinks he sighed, "Just...." He looked around the room before sighing, "Just give me a mug of water."

"Water?" THe bartender asked, confused, "A-alright then." He returned quickly with a simple mug of water and handed it to Nathaniel. However nevertheless he was astounded by ten of the large and hefty silver coins.

Nathaniel then turned and looked at the groups of people before him, his tail hanging straight down, barely moving side to side. Certainly disconcerted by the group of obviously powerful and high ranking world leaders in the room.

For pretty much the first time in his life, the massive and imposing wolf felt like a little fish in a school of Piranhas.

He took a deep breath and stepped over towards the group, holding out his hand lightly he somewhat-stuttered out, "Nathaniel Zanzibar, The Rogue Nation of Sutufinai."

"Pleased to meet you Mr Zanzibar. Nathaniel Klein." said the Parilisan, firmly shaking the tall man's hand. He seemed as nervous as Klein was so he gave him a reassuring smile. "You may have met some of our other guests already."

"I apologise that you had to find your own way here, transport could easily have been arranged if you had asked for it." he said, turning to Harmony.

"I hitched a ride on a military flight. No sense in costing the people money. Besides, Air Fatatatutti flights don't land until the food is gone, so arrival times can be a bit iffy. It was nineteen hours from Fatatatutti. Of course, we didn't take a direct route." Harmony sipped her coffee. "I didn't mean it to sound like a complaint. There was no sign of transport at the airport but I prefer to take a taxi anyway. And your goons, er, security people wouldn't let me in the front door but I prefer associating with the working people anyway." She smiled over the rim of her cup. "Otherwise, eveything is just peachy."

"I hitched a ride on a military flight. No sense in costing the people money. Besides, Air Fatatatutti flights don't land until the food is gone, so arrival times can be a bit iffy. It was nineteen hours from Fatatatutti. Of course, we didn't take a direct route." Harmony sipped her coffee. "I didn't mean it to sound like a complaint. There was no sign of transport at the airport but I prefer to take a taxi anyway. And your goons, er, security people wouldn't let me in the front door but I prefer associating with the working people anyway." She smiled over the rim of her cup. "Otherwise, eveything is just peachy."

"I know what you mean." said Klein. "About mixing with the working class people. I feel much more at home in a pub or a factory than I do in some meeting of Parliament or whatnot. I was born, like most of the poor of Parilisa a the time, as factory fodder to a family of factory workers. I'm only here today because the brave people of Parilisa fought for democracy. I've met many people like you in my time, Harmony, I had a friend who was leader of the Parilisan Communist Party. As a Social Democrat I don't agree with everything you lot say; but I certainly support that truly revoluyionary principle, that all people are equal."

"I know what you mean." said Klein. "About mixing with the working class people. I feel much more at home in a pub or a factory than I do in some meeting of Parliament or whatnot. I was born, like most of the poor of Parilisa a the time, as factory fodder to a family of factory workers. I'm only here today because the brave people of Parilisa fought for democracy. I've met many people like you in my time, Harmony, I had a friend who was leader of the Parilisan Communist Party. As a Social Democrat I don't agree with everything you lot say; but I certainly support that truly revoluyionary principle, that all people are equal."

"You shouldn't have such a doctrinaire idea of 'everything you lot say'," Harmony smiled, "since you don't actually know what we lot say - unless one of my little tracts has made its way into your hands. If you do your homework, you'll find that the Communist Party of Fatatatutti is a pretty practical bunch. My father has been elected eight times, non-consecutively, so what we're doing seems to work pretty well."

"You shouldn't have such a doctrinaire idea of 'everything you lot say'," Harmony smiled, "since you don't actually know what we lot say - unless one of my little tracts has made its way into your hands. If you do your homework, you'll find that the Communist Party of Fatatatutti is a pretty practical bunch. My father has been elected eight times, non-consecutively, so what we're doing seems to work pretty well."

"I didn't mean it as an insult. I meant mainly the manner in which Communism has all too often lead to the death of democracy and civil liberty in many countries and the limitation of any form of economic freedom. It's quite possible that one of your tracts has found its way to my office, I shall have a look if I have any anywhere. I have read and experienced a lot of Communist action and theory in my time as a politician." replied Klein with a smile.

"I meant mainly the manner in which Communism has all too often lead to the death of democracy and civil liberty in many countries and the limitation of any form of economic freedom."

"I'd argue that more often the opposite is true, that Communism leads to the death of monarchy and oppression. All too often, a Communist government is democratically elected and then overthrown by force by busibodies like you. No offense intended."

Klein was walking over to the bar when Sophia grabbed him from behind and quickly flung him into another dance. She placed her arms around his neck and whispered softly in his ear.

“Get your lazy arse over to the bar and introduce yourself to your guests. They seem to have gathered over there.”

“I was trying!” he laughed “But some crazy ambassador just grabbed me and made me dance!”

“Miss Thoreson is not crazy.” Replied Sophia with an intelligent smile. “Oh, you meant me? Well, go and talk to them. You’d probably get on with Harmony, the one in the pyjamas. She rambles on about going to working class places instead of these stiff events, just like you do. You should probably have a word with that monarch over there, the one surrounded by the massive retinue of scabby little aristocrats.”

“Just so long as he doesn’t expect me to call him “majesty” I’m sure he’ll be fine. Can I go to the bar now?”

She smiled and let him go as she slipped away elegantly to the kitchens. Klein watched her with a mild amusement; Hirsch was the best friend he had ever had, she was like a sister to him.

Carefully avoiding the waiters carrying trays of champagne around he crossed the dance floor and came towards the bar, where a large group had now assembled. He knew them all by sight, Sophia had made him study all their applications carefully so he knew how to address them and what they were likely to be like. He had already had the pleasure of meeting President Thoreson and Sophia had met pyjama lady, but other than that he had not really made himself known. With a little bit of nervousness in his stomach he strode over to the assembly and introduced himself.

“Hello there ladies and gentlemen, I am Klein. It is an honour to welcome you all to Parilisa this evening. I trust everything is in order? The accommodation, the drinks, the transport, everything is acceptable?”

"Mr. Klein, I'm Atoli Daichi I'm the daughter of President Akitaro Daichi, he should be around here somewhere." She scanned finding her father and the VP.

"Pa is very excited to be here, it's his first trip abroad since becoming President of Eeri."

"Oh here you are."

"Pa, Mr. Vice President, Mr. Klein."

Both shook his hand. "How do you do."

"I'd argue that more often the opposite is true, that Communism leads to the death of monarchy and oppression. All too often, a Communist government is democratically elected and then overthrown by force by busibodies like you. No offense intended."

"I'd like to think that Parilisa has reached a happy medium; civil liberties are defended, political rights are extensive, nationalised industry rovides everybody with healthcare, education and much more, and still entrepeneurs have the right to use their own talents to make money. Oppression and dictatorship are extinct and our "king" is in a prison cell in the north. The people are truly represented through democracy and major laws cannot be passed without their consent. We have accomplished so much for the unpriviledged, without having to resort to the often opressive manners of Communism. In fact, the people here have more freedom than they do in many Communist states."

"Mr. Klein, I'm Atoli Daichi I'm the daughter of President Akitaro Daichi, he should be around here somewhere." She scanned finding her father and the VP.

"Pa is very excited to be here, it's his first trip abroad since becoming President of Eeri."

"Oh here you are."

"Pa, Mr. Vice President, Mr. Klein."

Both shook his hand. "How do you do."

"Pleased to meet you both. I do hope you are enjoying your first international visit, Mr President. I know from experience that the journeys can be tiresome but the results are often rewarding." Klein shook their hands with a swarn smile.

"I'd like to think that Parilisa has reached a happy medium; civil liberties are defended, political rights are extensive, nationalised industry rovides everybody with healthcare, education and much more, and still entrepeneurs have the right to use their own talents to make money. Oppression and dictatorship are extinct and our "king" is in a prison cell in the north. The people are truly represented through democracy and major laws cannot be passed without their consent. We have accomplished so much for the unpriviledged, without having to resort to the often opressive manners of Communism. In fact, the people here have more freedom than they do in many Communist states."

"There you go again, jumping to conclusions about Communism. Do your homework. You'll find that Fatatatutti isn't much different from Parilisa. If you can find any 'oppressive measures' in Fatatatutti, by all means point them out."

Michelle was enjoying hearing the others converse, it wasn't often that she got the opportunity to merely observe. She took a few sips of her Martini, slowly eying each of the leaders. You could tell a lot about a person through their body language and posture. Harmony was extremely relaxed, but it wasn't that she was sloppy or crazed, no, its just how she expressed herself. Michelle found that refreshing. Nathaniel was a very upstanding gentleman, and her experience with him had been superb. Atoli was your typical teenager at heart, but had been taught the manners of a well trained lady. No doubt from her father's interest.

As Michelle continues to monitor the events in her own social grouping, she happens to glance towards the doorway. A puzzled look crosses her face as she notices her personal aid, Marilyn, and her guards scanning the room. She steps ever-so-slightly away from the group and gives her people a little wave. Marilyn comes quickly, nearly running, while her guards follow their routine and walk slowly and ritually.

"President Thoreson...*gasp*...sorry to interrupt..*gasp*," Marilyn was clearly out of breath.

Michelle placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder, "Marilyn breathe. What is it?"

Marilyn took a deep breath, and looked up at her president, afterall, Michelle was a fairly tall woman about 5'10". "Sorry, Miss President. There's been a problem at the homefront. Emily called and said the Theoroshian Premier and his family are enroute to Jarridia for an 'extended stay,' meanwhile the border build-up of Theoroshian forces may not be as peaceful as we though."

Michelle's face goes a little blank, her eyes searching for something to give her emotion back. "Have they attacked?"

"No ma'am. Their presence has continually increased." replies Marilyn, thumbing through a notepad.

"Then we must leave at once. Have the jet ready to take off immediately. I want to be in Shelbin as soon as possible," Michelle nodded and waved them away. She then turned back to the group of leaders she had been watching. Her earrings still twinkling, dress still bright and glittery, her face re-composed and glowing with her trademark smile.

"Pardon me for the interruption, but something has come up and I must bid you all adieu," Her eyes moving from person to person. "It was a pleasure meeting all of you, and I have had my assistant add you all to my dossier. Please expect an invitation to the next Jarridian event." Her eyes transfer over to Nathaniel, instead of placing her hand out to him, she gives him a kiss on both cheeks. "It was a pleasure dancing with you. Please remember that you are welcome to visit Jarridia at any time, just let me know and we'll make it happen."

Michelle shakes everyone's hand one last time, then turns and heads towards the door.

Michelle was enjoying hearing the others converse, it wasn't often that she got the opportunity to merely observe. She took a few sips of her Martini, slowly eying each of the leaders. You could tell a lot about a person through their body language and posture. Harmony was extremely relaxed, but it wasn't that she was sloppy or crazed, no, its just how she expressed herself. Michelle found that refreshing. Nathaniel was a very upstanding gentleman, and her experience with him had been superb. Atoli was your typical teenager at heart, but had been taught the manners of a well trained lady. No doubt from her father's interest.

As Michelle continues to monitor the events in her own social grouping, she happens to glance towards the doorway. A puzzled look crosses her face as she notices her personal aid, Marilyn, and her guards scanning the room. She steps ever-so-slightly away from the group and gives her people a little wave. Marilyn comes quickly, nearly running, while her guards follow their routine and walk slowly and ritually.

"President Thoreson...*gasp*...sorry to interrupt..*gasp*," Marilyn was clearly out of breath.

Michelle placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder, "Marilyn breathe. What is it?"

Marilyn took a deep breath, and looked up at her president, afterall, Michelle was a fairly tall woman about 5'10". "Sorry, Miss President. There's been a problem at the homefront. Emily called and said the Theoroshian Premier and his family are enroute to Jarridia for an 'extended stay,' meanwhile the border build-up of Theoroshian forces may not be as peaceful as we though."

Michelle's face goes a little blank, her eyes searching for something to give her emotion back. "Have they attacked?"

"No ma'am. Their presence has continually increased." replies Marilyn, thumbing through a notepad.

"Then we must leave at once. Have the jet ready to take off immediately. I want to be in Shelbin as soon as possible," Michelle nodded and waved them away. She then turned back to the group of leaders she had been watching. Her earrings still twinkling, dress still bright and glittery, her face re-composed and glowing with her trademark smile.

"Pardon me for the interruption, but something has come up and I must bid you all adieu," Her eyes moving from person to person. "It was a pleasure meeting all of you, and I have had my assistant add you all to my dossier. Please expect an invitation to the next Jarridian event." Her eyes transfer over to Nathaniel, instead of placing her hand out to him, she gives him a kiss on both cheeks. "It was a pleasure dancing with you. Please remember that you are welcome to visit Jarridia at any time, just let me know and we'll make it happen."

Michelle shakes everyone's hand one last time, then turns and heads towards the door.

"It was nice to meet you, Michelle." Atoli bid in fareweell

"Keep in touch," Harmony gestured with her coffee cup. Then she set it down on the bar, turned to Atoli and pulled a bouquet of large white carnations out of her sleeve. She presented them to Atoli with a slight bow. "Forgot I had those in there," she smiled.

"Pleased to meet you Mr Zanzibar. Nathaniel Klein." said the Parilisan, firmly shaking the tall man's hand. He seemed as nervous as Klein was so he gave him a reassuring smile. "You may have met some of our other guests already."

The Sutfen president gave as best a smile as he could, still feeling out of his league he would have blushed were you able to see it through his furr. "It is a pleasure, I am sure, Mr. Klein. " He shook the Parilisan's hand nervously and a little disconnectedly as he looked around the room... However the Parilisan President's second comment made him even more so embarrassed. "Ahh, No, I apologize, but I have in fact not met any of your guests before. You could say, this is my first political function outside of my own nation."

Nathaniel ran his claws nervously through his hair and rough as he looked about the room, "Being an Isolationalist nation, who is now rather backward, has it's definite downsides you see." He paused, "If you forgive me, but we received the invitation and I had to look up your nation in the atlas. To give you, something of an idea of how isolated we were."

"Pardon me for the interruption, but something has come up and I must bid you all adieu," Her eyes moving from person to person. "It was a pleasure meeting all of you, and I have had my assistant add you all to my dossier. Please expect an invitation to the next Jarridian event." Her eyes transfer over to Nathaniel, instead of placing her hand out to him, she gives him a kiss on both cheeks. "It was a pleasure dancing with you. Please remember that you are welcome to visit Jarridia at any time, just let me know and we'll make it happen."

Michelle shakes everyone's hand one last time, then turns and heads towards the door.

Kleins cheeks were red with blushing as Michelle kissed them, and his mouth turned into a childish beam.

"I may well take you up on that invitation one day. The same applies to you of coure, a visit to Parilisa can be arranged whenever you wish. It's a shame you have to leave in such a hurry, but you have more pressing issues than a party on your hands by the look of it. Farewell, and a safe journey home."

The Sutfen president gave as best a smile as he could, still feeling out of his league he would have blushed were you able to see it through his furr. "It is a pleasure, I am sure, Mr. Klein. " He shook the Parilisan's hand nervously and a little disconnectedly as he looked around the room... However the Parilisan President's second comment made him even more so embarrassed. "Ahh, No, I apologize, but I have in fact not met any of your guests before. You could say, this is my first political function outside of my own nation."

Nathaniel ran his claws nervously through his hair and rough as he looked about the room, "Being an Isolationalist nation, who is now rather backward, has it's definite downsides you see." He paused, "If you forgive me, but we received the invitation and I had to look up your nation in the atlas. To give you, something of an idea of how isolated we were."

"Ah, I see. You are a brave man then, to bring your nation from isolation like this. It mst be a daunting and rather difficult task and certainly one which recquires a talented diplomat and politician. I now little about you, but you must be that recquired person." said Klein.

Over Parilisa Airspace

The 5 INF-2000 "Hairbon" Fighter-Bombers flew in formation infront of a Leer Jet, some people would think it unusual, if not very un-diplomatic for a diplomatic envoy to arrive with a heavy fighter escort, however after several recent internal events it had been decided that where ever the 1st Wolf's Marshall went, the better part of Wolf Squadron would escort him.

"Do you think they will mind?" Squadron Commander Larka's voice crakled over the Inter-plane radio.

"Nah....why should they.... it's not like we are going in hot" Marshall Cain
replied

"Good point Wolf Lead"

"Your ment to be Wolf Lead, it's your squadron"

"Yeah, but your the Marshall, that makes you the lead, sir"

"Drop the Sir, we are all friends here, however once we land, you can do all the sucking up you want"

"Sure....whatever....., you have know me too long to know that I would suck up"

"Oh....if only I could just nudge sideways and drop you from the sky"

"Awww, you know you love me."

"Sadly Wolf 1 I have to say yes to that"

"Oi! Wolf 4 here, get your filthy paws off my girlfriend"

"Calm down, wing commander, she is too young for me anyways" As the banter continued, The five INF-2000s and the Leer Jet came closer and closer to Parilisa International Airport. After another five minutes of wity banter and some rather immpresive manuveres by Wolf's 4 and 6 the group finnaly came in sight of Parilisa International.

"Ok, Wolf squadron, Blackjack, listen up! Down there is Parilisa International airport, as you can proably tell we are going in on the main runway, lets hope no one thinks it is a good idea to go head to head with a fighter-bomber. Okay we are going to land in this order, Me and Wolf Lead will go in first and head to the terminal high-lighted on your HUD, after us Blackjack will land and follow us to the terminal, after Blackjack is on the tarmac Wolf 3 and 4 are to come in and once again follow us to the terminal, once everyone is down Wolf 5 and 6 are to come in last and rally with us at the terminal. Everyone got that?"

"Wolf Lead and Squadron copys"

"Blackjack Solid Copy"

"Okay then" Marshall Cain flicked a few switches on his radio and began broadcasting to all planes and ground control in the vecinity. "This is Wolf Lead of The Armed Republic Of The Wolf Hold, we are escorting a high value person to the main runway of Parilisa international, CLEAR THE RUNWAY! CLEAR THE RUNWAY!"

As the message broadcast through the Air waves, the seven aircraft began decending down towards the runway.


5 Minutes Later

Pulling up infront of the designated location, The Wolf's Marshall Popped the cockpit and un-clipped his helmet, looking around he was pleased to see that the Parilisan authorities had not got there yet, he winked at Squadron Commander Larka who was just climbing out of her INF-2000. Leaving his helmet in the cockpit and grabbing his MAC-303 Rifle which had been lying next to his seat, slinging it over his back and jumping out of the Cockpit, he strolled over to Larka who was grasping her MAC-303 by one hand. "Looks like they aint here yet" She quipped.

"Yeah....look here comes Blackjack" Marshall Cain stood wondering what the Parilisans would do when they finnaly reacted to his rather un-diplomatic entry.

(OOC: Sorry about this post, but I was feeling a bit anarchic)

Over Parilisa Airspace

The 5 INF-2000 "Hairbon" Fighter-Bombers flew in formation infront of a Leer Jet, some people would think it unusual, if not very un-diplomatic for a diplomatic envoy to arrive with a heavy fighter escort, however after several recent internal events it had been decided that where ever the 1st Wolf's Marshall went, the better part of Wolf Squadron would escort him.

"Do you think they will mind?" Squadron Commander Larka's voice crakled over the Inter-plane radio.

"Nah....why should they.... it's not like we are going in hot" Marshall Cain
replied

"Good point Wolf Lead"

"Your ment to be Wolf Lead, it's your squadron"

"Yeah, but your the Marshall, that makes you the lead, sir"

"Drop the Sir, we are all friends here, however once we land, you can do all the sucking up you want"

"Sure....whatever....., you have know me too long to know that I would suck up"

"Oh....if only I could just nudge sideways and drop you from the sky"

"Awww, you know you love me."

"Sadly Wolf 1 I have to say yes to that"

"Oi! Wolf 4 here, get your filthy paws off my girlfriend"

"Calm down, wing commander, she is too young for me anyways" As the banter continued, The five INF-2000s and the Leer Jet came closer and closer to Parilisa International Airport. After another five minutes of wity banter and some rather immpresive manuveres by Wolf's 4 and 6 the group finnaly came in sight of Parilisa International.

"Ok, Wolf squadron, Blackjack, listen up! Down there is Parilisa International airport, as you can proably tell we are going in on the main runway, lets hope no one thinks it is a good idea to go head to head with a fighter-bomber. Okay we are going to land in this order, Me and Wolf Lead will go in first and head to the terminal high-lighted on your HUD, after us Blackjack will land and follow us to the terminal, after Blackjack is on the tarmac Wolf 3 and 4 are to come in and once again follow us to the terminal, once everyone is down Wolf 5 and 6 are to come in last and rally with us at the terminal. Everyone got that?"

"Wolf Lead and Squadron copys"

"Blackjack Solid Copy"

"Okay then" Marshall Cain flicked a few switches on his radio and began broadcasting to all planes and ground control in the vecinity. "This is Wolf Lead of The Armed Republic Of The Wolf Hold, we are escorting a high value person to the main runway of Parilisa international, CLEAR THE RUNWAY! CLEAR THE RUNWAY!"

As the message broadcast through the Air waves, the seven aircraft began decending down towards the runway.


5 Minutes Later

Pulling up infront of the designated location, The Wolf's Marshall Popped the cockpit and un-clipped his helmet, looking around he was pleased to see that the Parilisan authorities had not got there yet, he winked at Squadron Commander Larka who was just climbing out of her INF-2000. Leaving his helmet in the cockpit and grabbing his MAC-303 Rifle which had been lying next to his seat, slinging it over his back and jumping out of the Cockpit, he strolled over to Larka who was grasping her MAC-303 by one hand. "Looks like they aint here yet" She quipped.

"Yeah....look here comes Blackjack" Marshall Cain stood wondering what the Parilisans would do when they finnaly reacted to his rather un-diplomatic entry.

(OOC: Sorry about this post, but I was feeling a bit anarchic)

OOC: No probs, this looks fun...

The intruders were wrong; the authorities were definitely ready. Security had been heightened at the airport since the terrorist attack a few months ago and security was now on sight 24/7. It was Captain Vlesk of Parilisan International Security (called PISS by most people) who was sent to question the armed group which had landed without permission on the runway. He was armed and had backup waiting in behind him in the form of a trained sniper team.

“Citizens of Wolf Hold, you are currently operating illegally under the terms of the Airport Security Act 2009, which makes it clear that all air craft must receive permission to land before doing so. It also makes it clear that armaments are not to be carried on the runway accept by authorised staff.” Shouted Vlesk down the loudspeaker held in his gloved hand. He continued to approach them. “You will all surrender your weapons or risk immediate arrest under the aforementioned act. You have been clearly warned.”

OOC: See? This is why I came by ship. lol

OOC: No probs, this looks fun...

The intruders were wrong; the authorities were definitely ready. Security had been heightened at the airport since the terrorist attack a few months ago and security was now on sight 24/7. It was Captain Vlesk of Parilisan International Security (called PISS by most people) who was sent to question the armed group which had landed without permission on the runway. He was armed and had backup waiting in behind him in the form of a trained sniper team.

“Citizens of Wolf Hold, you are currently operating illegally under the terms of the Airport Security Act 2009, which makes it clear that all air craft must receive permission to land before doing so. It also makes it clear that armaments are not to be carried on the runway accept by authorised staff.” Shouted Vlesk down the loudspeaker held in his gloved hand. He continued to approach them. “You will all surrender your weapons or risk immediate arrest under the aforementioned act. You have been clearly warned.”

OOC: Heh, I was thinking of using the WHS Lombax, my Longsword-Class SHGMC, but I thought 5 fighter-bombers would cause less trouble then a 1km long warship.lol

"Looks like they have noticed us!" Marshall Cain yelled to Larka as the ran to take cover behind his INF-2000, pulling his radio from his belt and pressing the send button, "Wolf 3, Wolf 4, Wolf 5, Wolf 6 looks like Parilisa didn't seem to our entrance, do a little fly by to remind them of your presence, also Blackjack hold at your current position, Code Red-11, Code Red-11" Marshall Cain and Larka shouldered there MAC-303 Assault rifles and took cover ebhind some concrete bollards next to Cain's INF-2000, Larka looked up to the sky, she could see the orange jets of flame that were the afterburners of her squadron comming to there aid.

"Ok Wolves, the Marshall is in trouble! Lets show these ants who rules the sky! Haaawoooo!" The 2iC of Wolf squadron or Wolf 4, wing commander Jacobs, screamed into his radio as he kicked in his after burners. "Go in low and drop flares on there heads, show them how dead the could of been!" The four INF-2000's went into a rapid dive towards the Parilisa security team, "Okay flares in 3....2.....1.....FLARES! GO!" As the INF-2000s passed over the heads of the security team they droped there flares, showing were there guns would of fired if they had decided to.

Meanwile on the Leer Jet the twelve men of thr 33rd Heavy Mechanised Infantry Divison heard the emergency deployment code, the Colonel in charge of the Guard was a vetran of the Wolf Legion the Wolf Holds elite commando units. "Code Red-11, Go! Go! Go! Protect the Marshall!" The doors on the Leer Jet popped open and the twelve men jumped out and began advancing towards the Marshalls positon popping smoke to cover their advance.

Marshall Cain observed the whole situation, he guessed the security team would be disorentated after the fly by so he stepped out of cover, he needed no radio or loudspeaker he could make himself perfectly clear after many decades of practise. "I am the 1st Wolf's Marshall here by invitation of the Parilisan goverment to attened a political function, I recomend you stand down before one of several things happens to you. If you standdwon and help me on my way, I will not mention this to your higher ups. If I am delayed you can expect me to ruin your carrer and any of your families carrers. Also don't forget if somthing were to happen to me, The Wolf Hold and the entirety of the CIS would be brought to bare against Parilisa." The Marshalls voice cut through the air like a hot knife through butter, he stood there definatly, like he had so many years ago when storming the Presidential Palace.

Prince Johannes took a swig of the beer. "So, ladies and gentlemen," he began, but was interrupted. An angsty-sounding alternative rock ballad started playing, and Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Sorry," he mumbled, his face red. He silenced his phone.

"Is it past your curfew?" The Prince asked, smirking. "I don't want your mother worrying."

"I'm 28 years old, sir," said Sam. As if to emphasize this, he took a generous swig of beer, only to immediately grimace. "Bad choice."

The Jarridan President announced her need to depart. "Goodbye," said Johannes as he shook her hand. She shook Sam's hand and he seemed to blush a little. However, Sam seemed to be mostly focused on the girl in the rather unorthodox attire, whose name, Johannes had heard, was Harmony. He had also heard something of Communism. Johannes did not like Communism. He gazed at the girl out of the corner of his eye and took a drink of beer, relishing the fact that it was produced by a privately-owned company whose executives earned more than he did.

Harmony glanced at the fellow who called himself 'Prince Johannes'. He was twice her size but she felt confident that, should the need arise, she could snap him like a twig. She did have, after all, as her brother had so eloquently put it, 'more black belts than a zebra'. "No, I don't have a rabbit up the other one, if that's what you're thinking."

Grand Duke Kavinkov was about to greet the Sutufinain President when his cell phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket. Unlike Prince Johannes, Kavinkov had had the foresight to set the phone on "rumble".

"I'm sorry, but I must take this call." Kavinkov apologized to the group as he removed the phone from his greatcoat pocket and walked over to one of the room's corners.

"Kavinkov here, what is it?" He said impatiently. The person on the other end was silent save for a few hushed whispers.

"Err...sorry sire, but it appears the leader of Wolf Hold has decided to come." The man on the other end said, Kavinkov quickly recognized the voice of his second in command, Yuri Pavelov.

"And what precisely is wrong with that? Wolf Hold is one of our allies."

"Well...by the looks of it sire they came in a little 'aggressively.' They're having quite a confrontation at the airport so it seems."

"Ah! I swear the Wolf Holders are unrivaled in their ability to get into trouble! Hold on, see if you can patch me through to the Wolf's Marshall."

"I'll try sire, but don't get your hopes up."

"Try your best." Kavinkov said as he turned off his cell phone and returned it to his coat's pocket. He approached the Parilisan President and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me Mr. Klein, but it appears the delegate from Wolf Hold has arrived at your airport."

"Ah, I see. You are a brave man then, to bring your nation from isolation like this. It mst be a daunting and rather difficult task and certainly one which recquires a talented diplomat and politician. I now little about you, but you must be that recquired person." said Klein.

Nathaniel Zanzibar shrugged, "Well, you see... I sure hope I am that required person. Too long has Sutufinai been Isolationalist, and while I may not be what the Sutfen want, or need... I hope they can cope with me." He sighed lightly before watching all of the going-ons around him. It was really all very confusing and harried with the phones and the talking and such. He just crossed his massive arms and hoped something or other would be explained.

-------
City Docks

"Hey Cap'n wha'cha thinks goin' on over that-a-ways?" Asked one of the able-seamen lounging on the bridge, pointing up at the flare-spewing fighters and the jets and such.

Captain Phealin raised a brow as he walked over, "Heck if I know, bucha' them humans showing off how pretty they are flyin' around up there. S'unnatural I tells ya. Flying like that. Atleast they arn't shooting the flares at us."

The able seaman nodded, His ear flicked and both perked at the distant sounds of sirens, "Either them there flares caught something on fire, or somebody's mighty unhappy wit'em'selved. Y'know?"

"Yeah, I know." Muttered the captain before shrugging, "Hell atleast them Humans ain't goin' and creating trouble wit'us."

"For future reference, Sam, that is the proper way to use a cell phone at... well, any important function," said the Prince in Dutch. "You ought to learn these things. Also, what kind of ringtone is that?"

"I like that song," said Sam in Dutch. "Why didn't you bring Minister Van der Pohl or something? I hear she is a lively dancer."

"The Minister of Diplomacy is a lovely lady. However, she is also a busy lady. That and her husband is the jealous and intimidating type," said the Prince, still in Dutch. "I took you, Sam, in the hopes that you would get a taste of the international politics you will someday be a part of. That, and the fact that the youth are becoming more and more a part of the political process. You, though not nearly as young as I like to joke that you are, are a symbol of that, and a symbol that I as the Prince believe in the youth. You are here to represent our nation. Now put your phone on vibrate, grow a pair and pretend like you have some modicum of self confidence." He grinned at Sam.

The Prince's eyes caught those of the rather tall, almost wolfish-looking man standing slightly away from the table. He stood up, offered his hand and said "Hi there. Don't believe we've met. I'm Johannes de Vaar, the Prince of Vaarshire. This is my senior aide, Sam Bakker."

"Ah! I swear the Wolf Holders are unrivaled in their ability to get into trouble!


OOC: Sig worth! Oh and Sutufinai TG

OOC: Forgive my Idiocy, but, "TG"? xD I'm never heard that one before.

OOC: Forgive my Idiocy, but, "TG"? xD I'm never heard that one before.

(That means telegram ^^)

"Keep in touch," Harmony gestured with her coffee cup. Then she set it down on the bar, turned to Atoli and pulled a bouquet of large white carnations out of her sleeve. She presented them to Atoli with a slight bow. "Forgot I had those in there," she smiled.

"Ah thank you!" Atoli exclaimed cheerfully.

"Pleased to meet you both. I do hope you are enjoying your first international visit, Mr President. I know from experience that the journeys can be tiresome but the results are often rewarding." Klein shook their hands with a swarn smile.

"As they have been so far."

OOC: The Wolf Hold, I TG'd you back.

The Prince's eyes caught those of the rather tall, almost wolfish-looking man standing slightly away from the table. He stood up, offered his hand and said "Hi there. Don't believe we've met. I'm Johannes de Vaar, the Prince of Vaarshire. This is my senior aide, Sam Bakker."

Nathaniel raised a brow, his ear flicking. He gave a rather wolfish smile as he reached out a massive hand to shake Johannes' own. "Greetings Prince Johannes de Vaar," He squeezed his handshake lightly, "I am President Nathaniel Zanzibar, Rogue Nation of Sutufinai. A pleasure, I am sure." After greeting the prince, Nathaniel looked around lightly before loosening his tie, grumbling under his breath about it before looking back to Johannes.

"A pleasure to meet you as well, Sam Bakker." Nathaniel's ears fell to the side as he raised a brow lightly to the pair, "I apologize sirs, However I have never heard of Vaarshire before. And I do not have a map to find it on, so you can see my confusion, yes?"

Markus was wandering around again, even as Grimmeberger still sought out President Klein (often muttering "Where the hell is the slippery little bastard?!"), and Markus couldn't help but wander over to where Bakker and Johannes were talking.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully. "I'm Markus von Bayern, Col.General in the Fanboyist Federal Armed Forces! Y'all are?"

Nathaniel's ears fell to the side as he raised a brow lightly to the pair, "I apologize sirs, However I have never heard of Vaarshire before. And I do not have a map to find it on, so you can see my confusion, yes?"

Johannes laughed. "You know, you're not the first world leader to have no clue where Vaarshire is," he said. "So I keep a map handy. Strange, I know, but convenient." He pulled out from his pocket a map of the world, folded to roughly the size of the credit card. The section showing western Europe was on the top. "It's right there, on that island in the North Sea that people seem to not usually notice." (OOC: There's a map in my factbook, which is linked in my sig, if anyone might actually be interested.)

"It's right there, on that island in the North Sea that people seem to not usually notice."

"I can relate," Harmony smiled. "Fatatatutti is an eight-million-square-kilometer island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean that nobody seems to notice. Keeps us out of trouble though."

OOC: Heh, I was thinking of using the WHS Lombax, my Longsword-Class SHGMC, but I thought 5 fighter-bombers would cause less trouble then a 1km long warship.lol

"Looks like they have noticed us!" Marshall Cain yelled to Larka as the ran to take cover behind his INF-2000, pulling his radio from his belt and pressing the send button, "Wolf 3, Wolf 4, Wolf 5, Wolf 6 looks like Parilisa didn't seem to our entrance, do a little fly by to remind them of your presence, also Blackjack hold at your current position, Code Red-11, Code Red-11" Marshall Cain and Larka shouldered there MAC-303 Assault rifles and took cover ebhind some concrete bollards next to Cain's INF-2000, Larka looked up to the sky, she could see the orange jets of flame that were the afterburners of her squadron comming to there aid.

"Ok Wolves, the Marshall is in trouble! Lets show these ants who rules the sky! Haaawoooo!" The 2iC of Wolf squadron or Wolf 4, wing commander Jacobs, screamed into his radio as he kicked in his after burners. "Go in low and drop flares on there heads, show them how dead the could of been!" The four INF-2000's went into a rapid dive towards the Parilisa security team, "Okay flares in 3....2.....1.....FLARES! GO!" As the INF-2000s passed over the heads of the security team they droped there flares, showing were there guns would of fired if they had decided to.

Meanwile on the Leer Jet the twelve men of thr 33rd Heavy Mechanised Infantry Divison heard the emergency deployment code, the Colonel in charge of the Guard was a vetran of the Wolf Legion the Wolf Holds elite commando units. "Code Red-11, Go! Go! Go! Protect the Marshall!" The doors on the Leer Jet popped open and the twelve men jumped out and began advancing towards the Marshalls positon popping smoke to cover their advance.

Marshall Cain observed the whole situation, he guessed the security team would be disorentated after the fly by so he stepped out of cover, he needed no radio or loudspeaker he could make himself perfectly clear after many decades of practise. "I am the 1st Wolf's Marshall here by invitation of the Parilisan goverment to attened a political function, I recomend you stand down before one of several things happens to you. If you standdwon and help me on my way, I will not mention this to your higher ups. If I am delayed you can expect me to ruin your carrer and any of your families carrers. Also don't forget if somthing were to happen to me, The Wolf Hold and the entirety of the CIS would be brought to bare against Parilisa." The Marshalls voice cut through the air like a hot knife through butter, he stood there definatly, like he had so many years ago when storming the Presidential Palace.

Captain Vlesk was indeed somewhat disorientated by the pointlessly aggressive activities of the intruders. Contrary to Marshall Cain’s declaration it would do far more damage to his career if he allowed this to go unchecked; such a blatant use of force for such a minimal reason had to be punished. Vlesk strode across the runway with meaningful steps, drawing himself up to his full impressive height. Behind him police cars were approaching the scene and groups of police snipers were trained on the group who had landed so abruptly.

“If you are indeed Marshall Cain then you should be making your way to the Ball at Sylvaburg.” he said, gesturing to the rest of the armed group “All of you will surrender your weapons to airport security; you can retrieve them when you leave. You will all stay here; the police will be wanting to ask you some questions. Understand, Marshall, that I am being very liberal and that by rights you should all be under arrest now, no questions asked."

OOC: Wolf Hold, you have a TG.

"Sir, I'm afraid our landing has been delayed. Parilisan Air Traffic Control is reporting that there's a problem at the airport. We've been asked to orbit our current position until they resolve it."

"Do we have any idea what's going on?" asked William Phillips, President of the Armed Republic of Salzland. He lay down the copy of the Rostgard Tribune that he had been reading, and resettled his glasses on the bridge of his nose. While it was far from unheard of for small complications to arise during any large assembly of national leaders, for an entire airport to be closed off something significant had to occur. Not that he was concerned, considering the modified Boeing 787 known as "Salzland One" had a range more than sufficient to fly from Salzland to Parilisa and back.

"Apparently there's been an incident involving the Wolf Hold delegation, Mr. President," replied Lucas Cole, head of the Presidential Security Detail. "The ATC network is buzzing with reports of fighters buzzing the airstrip and armed personnel, possibly including their Wolf's Marshall, in a standoff with Parilisan security."

"Should've shot them," Phillips muttered.

"I'm sorry, Sir?" asked Cole.

"The Parilisans should have shot them. We would've," the President answered. "Flying armed fighters into Parilisan airspace without even asking for an escort, pointing weapons at Parilisan security, that's a hell of a way to make an entrance. Well, however it ends, whoever's running their security detail at the airport deserves an atta-boy. If the Parilisans don't give him one, I will."

"Yes sir," replied Cole. "In the mean time, we have more than enough fuel to remain here until well after this situation is resolved. Should the situation change, I'll be back to inform you."

Captain Vlesk was indeed somewhat disorientated by the pointlessly aggressive activities of the intruders. Contrary to Marshall Cain’s declaration it would do far more damage to his career if he allowed this to go unchecked; such a blatant use of force for such a minimal reason had to be punished. Vlesk strode across the runway with meaningful steps, drawing himself up to his full impressive height. Behind him police cars were approaching the scene and groups of police snipers were trained on the group who had landed so abruptly.

“If you are indeed Marshall Cain then you should be making your way to the Ball at Sylvaburg.” he said, gesturing to the rest of the armed group “All of you will surrender your weapons to airport security; you can retrieve them when you leave. You will all stay here; the police will be wanting to ask you some questions. Understand, Marshall, that I am being very liberal and that by rights you should all be under arrest now, no questions asked."

"I like the balls of this guy. He is facing down fourteen of my best men and women, he is also staring down the barrel of four fighter-bombers. You know what we might of made the wrong decsion, what do you think Larka?"

"I admire this guy. Order the guard to stand down and to come over here, weapons down. Tell Blackjack to move off the runway and send the rest of the wolves back home, I am sure they can get some in-flight refueling. Hopefull the Parilisans will understand the reasons for such actions and then we can get a move on"

"You got a point Larka. Walk out and place your weapon on the ground, i'll call the wolves off and tell Blackjack to move over here." Pulling his radio out and flicking the send button, "Wolf 3, 4, 5, 6 RTB, RTB, RTB. Situation returned to normal, get out of here. 33rd stand down, weapons low advance cautiously to my positon and place weapons on the ground once you arrive. Blackjack move to the INF-2000 and hold positon there. That is all" Cutting off any sound of protest, Marshall Cain looked up as the four fighter-bombers dipped there wings and hit there afterburners, shooting for the border. Nodding to himself he walked out next to Larka who had already placed her MAC-303 on the Tarmac, placing his own down next to hers he loked up at the airport security.

"You win, if you have the balls to face down fourteen of my men and four fighter-bombers you have the balls to shoot me. Obviously you were picked for a very good reason. My jets are leaving the airspace and as you can see me and my men have stood down, it's up to you to decide what to do next" Waving his hand in the direction of the twelve men who had reached the edge of the tarmac and laid there weapons down.

Hello everyone, my name is Jonathan Roosevelt (http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/memoryalpha/en/images/thumb/5/5f/Archer-2161.jpg/200px-Archer-2161.jpg), i'm the Prime-Minister of The Grand Duchy of Noordeinde sorry that i'm quite late. We had to unload our Diplomatic Protection Divison vehicles and my "State car" out of our airplanes while their was something going on at the airport, and the streets here are quite bussy as well so we had quite some delay, but i'm greatfull that I'm finaly here and can meet with al you distinguished Heads of States and representatives of all those countries.

Hello everyone, my name is Jonathan Roosevelt (http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/memoryalpha/en/images/thumb/5/5f/Archer-2161.jpg/200px-Archer-2161.jpg), i'm the Prime-Minister of The Grand Duchy of Noordeinde sorry that i'm quite late. We had to unload our Diplomatic Protection Divison vehicles and my "State car" out of our airplanes while their was something going on at the airport, and the streets here are quite bussy as well so we had quite some delay, but i'm greatfull that I'm finaly here and can meet with al you distinguished Heads of States and representatives of all those countries.

"You look familiar," Harmony wrinkled her forehead. "Have I seen you on TV or something?"

Well I acted also for a while, and I still wear the "Gala uniform" on special occasions(but we replaced the series patches on the sleaves by the "prime Minister Seal") as this ball, and further you might have seen me at the WA giving speeches for our proposal about Embassy disarming of nuclear weapons, but further, I haven't been that much on televison.

Well I acted also for a while, and further you might have seen me at the WA giving speeches for our proposal about Embassy disarming of nuclear weapons, but further, I haven't been that much on televison.

"I don't follow the WA but I do support nuclear disarmament. I'm Harmony Chang. My father is Prime Minister of Fatatatutti. I'm standing in for him because he doesn't like to travel. Neither do I, really. These foreigners always seem to be so shooty. Personally, I think they need big guns to compensate for small... other things. I could snap your neck like a twig if I had too, so what do I need guns for? And it wouldn't disturb the other guests or make a mess for the cleaning staff.... Not that I have any definite plans to snap your neck. Am I rambling? Not enough coffee, I guess."

i would be verry pleased to have some coffee with you. I'm just here but already tired. i mean we landed, We had to unload our Diplomatic Protection Divison vehicles and my "State car" out of our airplanes while their was something going on at the airport, and the streets here are such bussy as well so we had quite some delay.

So i'm verry tired but still verry pleased to be here. Ad mister Chang I must say i'm verry honored to meet you. You seem to me as a friendly, wise and gentelman.

i would be verry pleased to have some coffee with you. I'm just here but already tired. i mean we landed, We had to unload our Diplomatic Protection Divison vehicles and my "State car" out of our airplanes while their was something going on at the airport, and the streets here are such bussy as well so we had quite some delay.

So i'm verry tired but still verry pleased to be here. Ad mister Chang I must say i'm verry honored to meet you. You seem to me as a friendly, wise and gentelman.

"The bartender will give you a coffee. They made some for me. It isn't bad but it isn't very strong. In Fatatatutti, we like the spoon to float. Most people here seem to be drinking champagne but that won't wake you up, will it? I'd try it but I think they only have grape.

And I'm not a gentleman, by the way. I'm a girl. We believe in equality, so it doesn't really matter, but it doesn't hurt to be technically correct. Wouldn't want the gay boys trying to pick me up. They'd be disppointed." She smiled.

ouch! sorry for insulting you, I'm just so tired. But how's your father doing? It's sad that the both of you don't like traveling so much, I must say that I really enjoy traveling and meeting people in other countries.

ouch! sorry for insulting you, I'm just so tired. But how's your father doing? It's sad that the both of you don't like traveling so much, I must say that I really enjoy traveling and meeting people in other countries.

Harmony smiled, "It's not an insult, no more than if you mistook me for a taxi driver or a Salzander. My father is fine. He's seventy-two, so he likes staying home and playing with the grandchildren. And I shouldn't say I don't like travelling at all. I'm a juggler by profession - balls, hoops, torches. I ride a unicycle and balance it on my chin - not at the same time. And I moonlight as a clown. This place looks a lot like a clown convention but it isn't nearly as much fun. Anyway, I travel all over Fatatatutti on a bus with an acrobatic troupe. I just don't like to travel off-island because most of the world is so uncivilized. You should come to Fatatatutti for the National Luau Festival. It starts in a week or so."

"I like the balls of this guy. He is facing down fourteen of my best men and women, he is also staring down the barrel of four fighter-bombers. You know what we might of made the wrong decsion, what do you think Larka?"

"I admire this guy. Order the guard to stand down and to come over here, weapons down. Tell Blackjack to move off the runway and send the rest of the wolves back home, I am sure they can get some in-flight refueling. Hopefull the Parilisans will understand the reasons for such actions and then we can get a move on"

"You got a point Larka. Walk out and place your weapon on the ground, i'll call the wolves off and tell Blackjack to move over here." Pulling his radio out and flicking the send button, "Wolf 3, 4, 5, 6 RTB, RTB, RTB. Situation returned to normal, get out of here. 33rd stand down, weapons low advance cautiously to my positon and place weapons on the ground once you arrive. Blackjack move to the INF-2000 and hold positon there. That is all" Cutting off any sound of protest, Marshall Cain looked up as the four fighter-bombers dipped there wings and hit there afterburners, shooting for the border. Nodding to himself he walked out next to Larka who had already placed her MAC-303 on the Tarmac, placing his own down next to hers he loked up at the airport security.

"You win, if you have the balls to face down fourteen of my men and four fighter-bombers you have the balls to shoot me. Obviously you were picked for a very good reason. My jets are leaving the airspace and as you can see me and my men have stood down, it's up to you to decide what to do next" Waving his hand in the direction of the twelve men who had reached the edge of the tarmac and laid there weapons down.

A policeman joined Vlesk and helped him gather together the weapons into the boot of a police car.

“I’ve just had a message from my superiors.” Said the new policeman to the Marshall. “I’m paraphrasing, but let’s just say this; those jets still in the sky had better get their shiny high-tech arses out of Parilisan airspace. Right?”

“Now then.” Said the Captain. “You will all be taken to the interview room to give statements. For the time being none of you will be handcuffed but if you resist we will have to take such measures. Now, you will split into groups of two and each get into a police vehicle.”

The said cars had gathered on the runway and more police officers were getting out. Each of them had a pistol in a holster at their side, and all were trained in both armed and unarmed combat as part of the stepping up of airport security following the recent terrorist attack.

Harmony smiled, "It's not an insult, no more than if you mistook me for a taxi driver or a Salzander. My father is fine. He's seventy-two, so he likes staying home and playing with the grandchildren. And I shouldn't say I don't like travelling at all. I'm a juggler by profession - balls, hoops, torches. I ride a unicycle and balance it on my chin - not at the same time. And I moonlight as a clown. This place looks a lot like a clown convention but it isn't nearly as much fun. Anyway, I travel all over Fatatatutti on a bus with an acrobatic troupe. I just don't like to travel off-island because most of the world is so uncivilized. You should come to Fatatatutti for the National Luau Festival. It starts in a week or so."

Wow how suprising. I really have respect for such artists, clowns, jugglers, and your al in one, I love it. Would you like to come over to The Grand Duchy of Noordeinde? I can arrange a government aircraft for you if you like, and it must be possible to let you give a show at our National Theather.

And how lovely to hear that everything is okay with your dad, it's great to hear that his grant children are meaning the whole world to him. Please say "Hi" for me to him, and that i would love to meet him. And if he doens't like to travel anymore at age 72 I would be delighted to visit him in your country.

Wow how suprising. I really have respect for such artists, clowns, jugglers, and your al in one, I love it. Would you like to come over to The Grand Duchy of Noordeinde? I can arrange a government aircraft for you if you like.

And how lovely to hear that everything is okay with your dad, it's great to hear that his grant children are meaning the whole world to him. Please say "Hi" for me to him, and that i would love to meet him. And if he doens't like to travel anymore at age 72 I would be delighted to visit him in your country.

Thanks for the invitation. I'm not too eager to do any more travelling right away but I'll keep you in mind. If you come for the Festival, I'm sure there would be no problem meeting my father. We're very informal. He's in the phone book. Mickey Chang."

great, I will let one of my special agents note his number, and give him a call later. Am i actually the first one your talking to tonight, or have their already been other heads of state who are a bit interesting and nice to talk to? And it would be great if you would keep us in mind, and I will hold a spot open in my agenda to visit your great home country.

great, I will let one of my special agents note his number, and give him a call later. Am i actually the first one your talking to tonight, or have their already been other heads of state who are a bit interesting and nice to talk to? And it would be great if you would keep us in mind, and I will hold a spot open in my agenda to visit your great home country.

"I was talking to a nice lady earlier, named Michelle, I think. But she had to leave. Some kind of crisis at home. And there was that young girl, Atoli, I think. I'm terrible with names. She seems to have wandered off. Everybody I talk to seems to wander off. I wonder if I still smell like diesel. I flew in with a submarine crew. I showered but you know how hard it is to get rid of the smell of diesel."

A submarine crew, wow what are they doing here? I'm as well terrible with names, the Prime Minister laughs, thats why all my security agenst have a notebook as well next to their pistol, to note all adresses, phonenumbers, names etc... Because i do like to stay in contact with everyone of the international community.

"Well, the submarine crew was just passing through. I hitched a ride on a military flight. We don't like to waste the taxpayers' money on perks. Somewhere, a submarine ran short of fuel, sucked the injectors dry, some such thing, so these techie boys were going to fix her up. They had a couple of tons of diesel with them, in four-liter jugs.

By the way, if you come to Fatatatutti, visitors aren't allowed to have weapons of any kind. No armed guards, I'm afraid." She giggled. "When my father was young, his first or second term as Prime Minister, I think, there was an assassination threat. So he had a T-shirt made up with a big target on the front and the back and he wore that for quite a while. Nowadays, he's a bit more dignified. He wears a shirt with buttons."

haha I like your fathers humor. And if your own countries security personnel can "secure" me I don't have any problems with the fact that my special agents will be unarmed. But i wil take my own Diplomatic protection Vehicles with me, if that's okay. it's policy of my country that although I as Head of Government am abroad I will use my own vehicles for safety reasons.

owh let me give you a list:
* 1 armoured Volvo S80 Limousine (http://www.koninklijkhuis.nl/dsc?s=obj&c=getobject&origin=minazintra:17793)( official State car)
* 2 armoured Chevrolet Suburbans (http://govpdcars.fateback.com/ss161.jpg) (Diplomatic protection Division)
* 2 armoured Cadillac (http://govpdcars.fateback.com/ss111.jpg)'s(Diplomatic protection Division)

"We have no problem with you bringing your own vehicles. I'm sure they'll draw a lot of attention since the average car in Fatatatutti has about a 500cc engine. You'll fit in better if you strap a couple of surfboards to the roof. And you might want to lock your doors. In Fatatatutti, we have a long tradition of 'borrowing' vehicles that aren't in use.

Of course, we can't guarantee your safety 100% but we've never had a political assassination in Fatatatutti, unless you include our last king, who was eaten by disgruntled subjects. But that was a couple of centuries ago."

Haruhisa arrived, very very late! Ryou didn't have an airport still since the destruction of it after the last war, so she had to sail to a nearby country and charter her flight out of there.

Now that she was here, she moved over to where the crowed was amassed including the President and Host.

"Mr. President, I'm Haruhisa Shinkai Chancellor of the Ryou Black Islands. I'm sorry for being late but it took some time to get here."

"We have no problem with you bringing your own vehicles. I'm sure they'll draw a lot of attention since the average car in Fatatatutti has about a 500cc engine. You'll fit in better if you strap a couple of surfboards to the roof. And you might want to lock your doors. In Fatatatutti, we have a long tradition of 'borrowing' vehicles that aren't in use.

Of course, we can't guarantee your safety 100% but we've never had a political assassination in Fatatatutti, unless you include our last king, who was eaten by disgruntled subjects. But that was a couple of centuries ago."

haha I'll lock the doors always wherever I am. And it's good to hear that their haven't been any assasinations since your last king, and that was a couple of centuries ago. And i know that your country will do everything to protect me and my staff.

And what a nice traddition, "borrowing" vehicles that aren't in use, the Prime Minister laughs.

And what a nice traddition, "borrowing" vehicles that aren't in use, the Prime Minister laughs.

"We do what we can for the environment. With six billion people, we can't all be roaring around in limousines. And we all have to be equal, of course.

"Somebody new came in. Is that the President he's talking to? I thought I scared him away."

Well probably he wanted to make a first good impression on the host, and has it not anything to do with you, I mean your a really nice and wise women.

Well probably he wanted to make a first good impression on the host, and has it not anything to do with you, I mean your a really nice and wise women.

"Not everybody notices that," Harmony laughed. She noticed that her cup was empty again. "I should send you some Fatatatutian coffee. I have to warn you, though, it isn't as easy-going as the people. It could probably swim over by itself."

A policeman joined Vlesk and helped him gather together the weapons into the boot of a police car.

“I’ve just had a message from my superiors.” Said the new policeman to the Marshall. “I’m paraphrasing, but let’s just say this; those jets still in the sky had better get their shiny high-tech arses out of Parilisan airspace. Right?”

“Now then.” Said the Captain. “You will all be taken to the interview room to give statements. For the time being none of you will be handcuffed but if you resist we will have to take such measures. Now, you will split into groups of two and each get into a police vehicle.”

The said cars had gathered on the runway and more police officers were getting out. Each of them had a pistol in a holster at their side, and all were trained in both armed and unarmed combat as part of the stepping up of airport security following the recent terrorist attack.


"Don't worry Wolf Squadron is well out of your airspace, or they should be" Marshall Cain smiled a the police officer and nodded as he listened to his demands. "Acceptable, I hope to get this over as soon as possible, don't fear you have nothing to worry about, my men will only do something on my orders. Same goes for Larka here to" Pointing to his female companion who was warily watching the police manhandle there weapons into the boot of the police car. "

Oh officer, I believe I should give you this." Lifting his shirt and slowly in full view of the police un-buttoning his holster and pulling out his Desert Eagle, holding it by the barrel he handed the decorated handgun to the police officer. "Look after that for me please" Nodding and turning to his men. " Okay 1st section with me in the first Car, 2nd section with the flight crew in the second car. Move! Move! Move!" All twelve of the soldiers saluted alongside the four flight crew from the leer jet. As each group piled into the police cars, Marshall Cain and Wing Commander Larka climbed into the first car.

"Not everybody notices that," Harmony laughed. She noticed that her cup was empty again. "I should send you some Fatatatutian coffee. I have to warn you, though, it isn't as easy-going as the people. It could probably swim over by itself."

Well sounds like something I have to try at least 1 time, I would be delighted if you would send me some original coffee from your home country, I'm really adicted to coffee when i'm such tired as I am now, The Prime Minister laughs, Should we take some champange, maybe the alcoholic effect can make something of this party:p

"Don't worry Wolf Squadron is well out of your airspace, or they should be" Marshall Cain smiled a the police officer and nodded as he listened to his demands. "Acceptable, I hope to get this over as soon as possible, don't fear you have nothing to worry about, my men will only do something on my orders. Same goes for Larka here to" Pointing to his female companion who was warily watching the police manhandle there weapons into the boot of the police car. "

Oh officer, I believe I should give you this." Lifting his shirt and slowly in full view of the police un-buttoning his holster and pulling out his Desert Eagle, holding it by the barrel he handed the decorated handgun to the police officer. "Look after that for me please" Nodding and turning to his men. " Okay 1st section with me in the first Car, 2nd section with the flight crew in the second car. Move! Move! Move!" All twelve of the soldiers saluted alongside the four flight crew from the leer jet. As each group piled into the police cars, Marshall Cain and Wing Commander Larka climbed into the first car.

The car which contained the Marshall was driven by a tall, muscular, police officer in the dark smart uniform of the Parilisan Police. His face bore the visible signs of anger at having been called out for such a ridiculous reason; he had been terrified by the screeching jets and now he wanted to get his own back on the morons who had instigated the “attack”. The other police vehicles were speeding of in different directions along the tarmac. Six of the personnel would be questioned in the airport whilst the rest were to be taken to different police stations around the city. Their superiors knew that disorientating and dividing these terrorists was the best tactic.

Cain and the woman were bundled into a small dark room and the police officer locked the door behind them. The metal bolt was slid into place with a horribly high-pitched whine.

“Sit down.” Growled one of the two police officers in the room, gesturing towards a row of several uncomfortable chairs. He started typing something into a laptop and suddenly the phone on his desk rang. Still keeping his dark eyes on the two pilots he mumbled into the phone before slamming it down. “Cain.” He said after a while. “Get your arse through that door.” He pointed fiercely to another metal door on the other side of the room.

Cain was lead by another policeman down a long dark corridor. Lights were stationed at every two meters, but there were no windows, so the passage was filled with patches of darkness. The policeman pushed Cain into the interview room and told him to sit by the desk. Shortly another police man joined him and bolted the door behind him. The newcomer put a recording machine on the table and pushed a button on it. Inside the wheels began to whir as the tape started to be written.

“Mr Cain.” Said the first man. “I am legally obliged to tell you that your voice is now being recorded and anything you say from herein may be taken as evidence in a court of law. So, now we can start the questions, right? Lets start with the most obvious one; why?”

Should we take some champange, maybe the alcoholic effect can make something of this party:p

"Unfortunately, they only seem to have grape. In Fatatatutti, we make wine out of coconuts, pineapples, papayas, guavas, mangoes.... Papaya wine is usually a bit dry for my taste. Sparkling coconut wine is good. You can really teast the coconut."

"Unfortunately, they only seem to have grape. In Fatatatutti, we make wine out of coconuts, pineapples, papayas, guavas, mangoes.... Papaya wine is usually a bit dry for my taste. Sparkling coconut wine is good. You can really teast the coconut."

Sounds great, well I just need some alcohol so I take some Champangne, Cheers!!

OOC-I was intended to join, but RL kept me away, and this seems like its gotten really far. So Im dropping out

OOC-I was intended to join, but RL kept me away, and this seems like its gotten really far. So Im dropping out

To bad your dropping out, I would be pleased to talk to you about Telvira and my own country and I think Miss Harmony Chang would also be delighted to meet you!

OOC-I was intended to join, but RL kept me away, and this seems like its gotten really far. So Im dropping out

OOC: Shame, Telvira. Next time I host something similair I'll let you know, how does that sound?

OOC: Shame, Telvira. Next time I host something similair I'll let you know, how does that sound?

Mister President, although you didn't sad that last message to me, but I really do enjoy my time here. And would be delighted to get an invetation as well, how are you actually doing, let me first introduce myself, I'm Jonathan Roosevelt (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/78/Scott_Bakula_in_2005.PNG), Prime Minister of The Grand Duchy of Noordeinde

OOC: Shame, Telvira. Next time I host something similair I'll let you know, how does that sound?

OOC-I signed up, its just I dropped off NS for a week and I came back to find a 11-page IC thread already going. But feel free to notify me if you do something like this again

OOC-I signed up, its just I dropped off NS for a week and I came back to find a 11-page IC thread already going. But feel free to notify me if you do something like this again

OOC: There's no problem jumping in right now. All we've had was a few sub-threads with individual conversations.

OOC: Actualy Telvira, Fatatatutti is right. Feel free to strike up your own conversation with whoever you want.

OOC-OK then. IC post coming soon.

OOC-OK then. IC post coming soon.
Good to hear, it would be great to meet you afther arriving!!

Prime Minister Edward Caithana knew that Parilisa was not fond of monarchs. But as far as he could tell, they were fine with Prime Ministers. So I get to go shake hands and pose for the cameras. Sigh. Well, at least they're not throwing things. Better here than Saharani.

The limousine, escorted by two sedans of the Domestic Security Force, pulled up to the Sylvaburg Hotel. Edward got out and told his guards to wait outside. Surely if something went wrong there would be enough firepower to deal with it.

Edward entered the room and looked around. No one here that he really knew. He recognized President Klein, and leaders from other nations. No one to really have a conversation with. He thought. Well, time to be social. Edward walked into the room and headed for Klein. Better introduce myself.

“Mr Caithana, I presume?” said Klein, moving towards the Telviran. “Pleased to meet you and glad you could join us. We’ve had dealings before, I believe; Parilisa has a large investment in your oil and coal industries. How is that enterprise going?” Klein shook the mans hand and gave him a warm, friendly smile.

OOC: There's no problem jumping in right now. All we've had was a few sub-threads with individual conversations.

Well I see the Telvirian changed their minds, should we shake hands with them, or should we finish our drinks here at the bar and go to the Telvirian delegation later on?

"Pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Klein. Honored to be here. The investment was a big help; the industry's growing in leaps and bounds. And how are things in your plot of the earth?"

“Quite alright, thank you. The expected profits from our investment with you are going into the Bank of Parilisa’s attempt to make a break onto the international market, so you will have done a great service to Parilisa by allowing us to invest. Can I get you a drink, we have pretty much everything?”

"I'll take a scotch on the rocks, please. And I'm glad to hear about your bank." Well, this wasn't so bad..

Well I see the Telvirian changed their minds, should we shake hands with them, or should we finish our drinks here at the bar and go to the Telvirian delegation later on?

"Let's barge right in. I haven't exactly been a shrinking violet so far." She stepped forward and said, “Mr Caithana, I presume?” trying to mimic Klein's voice.

Edward turned to the newcomer. "Ah, miss Chang. Pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand.

"Let's barge right in. I haven't exactly been a shrinking violet so far." She stepped forward and said, “Mr Caithana, I presume?” trying to mimic Klein's voice.

haha, your great, love your humor, the Prime Minister laughs.

Good evening gentlemen, we haven't met yet. My name is Jonathan Roosevelt (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/78/Scott_Bakula_in_2005.PNG), i'm the Prime Minister of The Grand Duchy of Noordeinde i'm delighted to finnaly meet you. And this is Madam Chang, the daughter of the Prime Minister of Fatatatutti

"Mr. Roosevelt and I have been getting along like a house on fire," Harmony smiled, "although a house on fire isn't always a good thing."

Edward had a slight chuckle. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Roosevelt. I'm Edward Caithana, Prime Minister of Telvira. I've already met Madam Chang." Edward extended a hand to Jonathan.

"Mr. Roosevelt and I have been getting along like a house on fire," Harmony smiled, "although a house on fire isn't always a good thing."
The Prime Minister laughs, well i guess it's a good thing if were talking about the way we are getting along.

Edward had a slight chuckle. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Roosevelt. I'm Edward Caithana, Prime Minister of Telvira. I've already met Madam Chang." Edward extended a hand to Jonathan.
It's a pleasure to meet you sir, Prime Minister Roosevelt extended his hand as well.

Edward shook the Prime Minister's hand.

"A pleasure to meet you Mr. Caithana. I am Grand Duke Alexander Kavinkov of Volzgrad." Kavinkov said cheerfully as he shook the new arrivals hand.

So how's life, Jonathan asked, I saw that you as well are being updated about the situation in Lingards, and i heard of one of my special agents that some situation in going on in one of your embassies, is everything allright?

So how's life, Jonathan asked, I saw that you as well are being updated about the situation in Lingards, and i heard of one of my special agents that some situation in going on in one of your embassies, is everything allright?
"The situation in Lingards is troubling, but I'm sure their military can handle it." Edward made sure to say nothing about the commandos getting ready to attack even now. "As for our nation, everything is calm and smooth sailing."

OOC-Noordeinde, the thing with my embassies in a planning thread, it hasn't happened yet.

A pleasure to meet you Mr. Caithana. I am Grand Duke Alexander Kavinkov of Volzgrad." Kavinkov said cheerfully as he shook the new arrivals hand.
"An honor to meet you, sir." When he was done shaking Kavinkov's hand, Edward took a sip of his scotch. "This is a grand little get-together, is it not?"

"An honor to meet you, sir." When he was done shaking Kavinkov's hand, Edward took a sip of his scotch. "This is a grand little get-together, is it not?"

I Think your absolutely right. Then Prime Minister Roosevelt met with Mister Kavinkov, and introduced himself, Hello mister Kavinkov, how nice to meet you, my name is Jonathan Roosevelt (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/78/Scott_Bakula_in_2005.PNG), i'm the Prime Minister of The Grand Duchy of Noordeinde, and both Heads of State shooked hands.

So how's life, Jonathan asked, I saw that you as well are being updated about the situation in Lingards, and i heard of one of my special agents that some situation in going on in one of your embassies, is everything allright?
"The situation in Lingards is troubling, but I'm sure their military can handle it." Edward made sure to say nothing about the commandos getting ready to attack even now. "As for our nation, everything is calm and smooth sailing."

OOC-Noordeinde, the thing with my embassies in a planning thread, it hasn't happened yet.

A pleasure to meet you Mr. Caithana. I am Grand Duke Alexander Kavinkov of Volzgrad." Kavinkov said cheerfully as he shook the new arrivals hand.
"An honor to meet you, sir." When he was done shaking Kavinkov's hand, Edward took a sip of his scotch. "This is a grand little get-together, is it not?"

Yes unfortunatly the situation in Lingard is quite bad. My country did send a group of militairy specialists and a 4 star General to the Lingard Command center to help find a strategy to get those protestors of the streets. I just received an email on my blackberry that the Ambassador and the delegation their convoy arrived safely at SECDEF so i hope that from now on the situation there will only improve.

"Hopefully and God willing."

indeed as my counties motto says; In God we trust.

The car which contained the Marshall was driven by a tall, muscular, police officer in the dark smart uniform of the Parilisan Police. His face bore the visible signs of anger at having been called out for such a ridiculous reason; he had been terrified by the screeching jets and now he wanted to get his own back on the morons who had instigated the “attack”. The other police vehicles were speeding of in different directions along the tarmac. Six of the personnel would be questioned in the airport whilst the rest were to be taken to different police stations around the city. Their superiors knew that disorientating and dividing these terrorists was the best tactic.

Cain and the woman were bundled into a small dark room and the police officer locked the door behind them. The metal bolt was slid into place with a horribly high-pitched whine.

“Sit down.” Growled one of the two police officers in the room, gesturing towards a row of several uncomfortable chairs. He started typing something into a laptop and suddenly the phone on his desk rang. Still keeping his dark eyes on the two pilots he mumbled into the phone before slamming it down. “Cain.” He said after a while. “Get your arse through that door.” He pointed fiercely to another metal door on the other side of the room.

Cain was lead by another policeman down a long dark corridor. Lights were stationed at every two meters, but there were no windows, so the passage was filled with patches of darkness. The policeman pushed Cain into the interview room and told him to sit by the desk. Shortly another police man joined him and bolted the door behind him. The newcomer put a recording machine on the table and pushed a button on it. Inside the wheels began to whir as the tape started to be written.

“Mr Cain.” Said the first man. “I am legally obliged to tell you that your voice is now being recorded and anything you say from herein may be taken as evidence in a court of law. So, now we can start the questions, right? Lets start with the most obvious one; why?”

The Parilisans were obviously pissed off, Cain thought he would be to, if he had been in their position. As he and Larka were bundled into the car and seperated from the rest of the men. Obviously they were trying to disorintate them to try and make them easier to interorgate, however this seperation would proably just serve to make the men more resiliant. They knew Parilisa was a civilised country and that toutre was proably outlawes, they also knew that they would never use such methods when such a high value person was involved.

As he was bundled from one area to another he was replaying in his head the storming of the Democratic Allainces HQ. Frankly Cain, Larka and the rest of the men had been through much worse then what the Parilisans could do. As he was pushed into what was quite obviously an interorgation room, he wasn't really listening as the police officer read him what was proably his rights but he came round when he heard the first question.

"You wan't to know why we landed like we did, with your countries recent history with aircraft, I think we have some reason. Albeit it wasn't just becasue of that we arrived like we did. It is widely know that recntly we went through a series of riots that almost resulted in rebellion, our embassys in several foregin countries have been attacked andwhilst it is not as widly know but recently there have been two attempts on my life. Taking all these factors in, as well as the recent history of your airport, I and Central Command decided it would be better to arrive un-anounced and heavily armed."

Sam Bakker was fairly bored. The Prince was off shooting the breeze and drinking god-awful beer and Sam was in some country he didn't know existed at a ball. And he didn't know how to ballroom dance. He had just been informed that the only reason he was here was for scoring public relations points for the Prince, and he wondered if that was the only reason he had gotten the job of senior aide to begin with. At 28 years old, he could still be off partying- the kind of party where dancing meant making lewd gestures with one's pelvis while moving your arms in different ways.

There was one thing in the room that did not suck. His eyes- or at least his peripheral vision- were fixated on a woman who was dressed in a fairly unorthodox manner. Harmony Chang was a prominent Communist who- had heard- had totally rewritten the health-care system in her nation. She also worked with gay-rights activists, or at least the one who she was related to. At any rate, Sam Bakker very much admired Harmony Chang, in a political way. Mainly because he was a homosexual Communist.

Sam had never mentioned either of these to anyone, especially not the Prince. The previous didn't matter- Vaarshire had legalized full same-sex marriage in 1961. No, it was the latter that was an issue. Prince Johannes- and therefore most of the population of Vaarshire- weren't terribly fond of Communists. Mainly because they had taken over the country and instituted a "brutal" regime. Sam wasn't fond of coup d'etats, but he liked the idea of a classless society where all were equal. He just wished he could talk to these things with Harmony without the Prince having him thrown in prison for being anti-government. Sam was fairly sure he couldn't do that, but he couldn't be sure.

Then Sam realized something. Prince Johannes wasn't paying attention to him. What did he care? He was chatting with leaders from nations Sam didn't know existed. Sam could have taken off his jacket and shirt and performed his famed exotic dancing routine and Prince Johannes would probably not have even noticed. "What the hell," thought Sam.

He walked over to Harmony Chang. Hoping he didn't sound like a loser, he said "I, uh, really admire your work."

He walked over to Harmony Chang. Hoping he didn't sound like a loser, he said "I, uh, really admire your work."

"You've seen me juggle?" she smiled.

Sam chuckled. "I was referring to your political work, actually." He said the word political in a soft voice, almost a whisper, making sure Prince Johannes wouldn't hear.

Sam chuckled. "I was referring to your political work, actually." He said the word political in a soft voice, almost a whisper, making sure Prince Johannes wouldn't hear.

"Ohh... well, there's no money in that, so I don't think of it as work."

Normally, Sam would have started his rant about too-highly-paid politicians, but instead he said "I tried to juggle once. I discovered that I have no hand-eye coordination and that my eyes black easily. It would have been smarter to start with something softer than baseballs."

Normally, Sam would have started his rant about too-highly-paid politicians, but instead he said "I tried to juggle once. I discovered that I have no hand-eye coordination and that my eyes black easily. It would have been smarter to start with something softer than baseballs."

"I asked the bartender for three eggs earlier on. He claimed he didn't have any but aren't there drinks that have eggs in them? I think he was just afraid that I was going to egg some of the stuffed shirts around here."

The King had held out as long as he could from debasing himself through social association with any of the inferiors that littered the hotel. After a while he became bored with his only company being Lord Rodderwick, so he asked his Lord Chancellor for suggestions of who else to approach while trying to sound as polite about it as he could.

“Lord Rodderwick,” began he, “your conversation is delightful and your rhetoric fascinating, but we did not fly here to simply talk to each other. Now, is there any man in this room that would not so humiliate my personage if I were to acknowledge him?”

Lord Rodderwick was rather relieved to hear this from the King, since the same feelings had been gathering inside him. “Well, my liege…” said he, contemplating the various guests he saw and comparing them with who he knew was to be in attendance. “You might like to seek out the Grand Duke of Volzgrad.”

“No, Lord Rodderwick, that simply would not do. He may be of regal birth among his own peers, but his name sounds Slavic. Slavs are seedy, manipulative rodents who propagate trouble everywhere they go, and as we both know, a Slav will just as soon greet you as stab you in the back.”

“What about the Grand Duchy of Noordeinde?”

“Well, my liege, the representative from that state is what they called the ‘Prime Minister?’ If they have an actual sovereign, then he is not present here. I am afraid your only option is Prince Johannes of Vaarshire.”

“Thank you, Lord Rodderwick. He is assuredly as bored as I, so you ought let the two of us make our introductions. Until we are finished, you may find someone else to mingle with.”

The King started off into the crowd, but when it became apparent that he did not actually know where Prince Johannes was, Lord Rodderwick had to go point him out. The identity of the Prince being made known, the King eschewed further help from his Lord Chancellor and walked the rest of the way to where the Prince was located.

Once there, he said, “Greetings, Your Majesty. Consider yourself liberated from this swarm of rabble.” He gave a hearty laugh, and of course neglected to introduce himself since he assumed that the Prince Johannes already knew who he was.

"You wan't to know why we landed like we did, with your countries recent history with aircraft, I think we have some reason. Albeit it wasn't just becasue of that we arrived like we did. It is widely know that recntly we went through a series of riots that almost resulted in rebellion, our embassys in several foregin countries have been attacked andwhilst it is not as widly know but recently there have been two attempts on my life. Taking all these factors in, as well as the recent history of your airport, I and Central Command decided it would be better to arrive un-anounced and heavily armed."

“Do you not think that if you had explained the circumstances beforehand Airport Security could have arranged for a more peaceful, less conspicuous and highly secretive landing?” said the policeman, struggling to contain a laugh at the apparent idiocy of this man. “And surely you are aware that with our recent history with aircraft we now have to be much more alert, and that your planes came very close to being shot down. In fact if you had crossed Exengrad on your little tour of Parilisan airspace the authorities there would have gladly blown your shitty toys out of the sky.”

“And that,” added the second policeman “Would have been a much more severe threat to your life than some disgruntled assassin. In fact the President is within his rights to declare this action an act of war and to begin launching missiles at The Wolf Hold. Luckily for you Parilisans are far more civilised than your people.”

“You should also bear in mind that regardless of the reasons you did what you did, it was still very illegal, very disruptive and very dangerous.” The first policeman adopted the patronising tone one would use to address a naughty child. “You are aware, aren’t you, that we can legally try you in court and give you a prison sentence of up to 60 years?”

"You've seen me juggle?" she smiled.

Well Miss Chang, who is this verry young gentleman? Hello sun nice to meet you, and the Prime Minister and the Prince shaked hands, I see Miss Chang is a friend of you as well. Oh I almost forgot, let me introduce myself, I am Prime Minister Jonathan Roosevelt (http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/memoryalpha/en/images/thumb/5/5f/Archer-2161.jpg/200px-Archer-2161.jpg), tonight I represent my state of The Grand Duchy of Noordeinde. You are from Vaarshire isn't it??

Prince Johannes looked at the regally dressed man, and immediately set down his beer and sat it behind him. He tried to associate the name with the face, but he couldn't, so he have the standard diplomatic smile and shook his hand firmly. "An honor to meet you, sir," he said.

Meanwhile, away from the swarm of monarchs, Sam was talking with the Prime Minister of Noordeinde. He shook his hand and said "Nice to meet you. Yes, I am from Vaarshire, I'm the senior aide to the Prince. The Prince is over there, talking with... well, talking with someone."

Prince Johannes looked at the regally dressed man, and immediately set down his beer and sat it behind him. He tried to associate the name with the face, but he couldn't, so he have the standard diplomatic smile and shook his hand firmly. "An honor to meet you, sir," he said.

Meanwhile, away from the swarm of monarchs, Sam was talking with the Prime Minister of Noordeinde. He shook his hand and said "Nice to meet you. Yes, I am from Vaarshire, I'm the senior aide to the Prince. The Prince is over there, talking with... well, talking with someone."

it''s an honor to meet you "mister senior aide of the prince", The Prime Minister laughs. I hope you are enjoing the evening as well as i do? I saw that a king who felt verry good about himself wanted to talk to your prince.

Seems to be that guy only wants to talks to monarchs and not to all other representatives.

"Prince Johannes isn't much of a monarch. I don't know if the other guy knows, but in Vaarshire we elect our Princes. He's really more of a... really powerful President or something," said Sam. "Don't know if I should tell him, though. Don't want to ruin his fun." Sam chuckled.

The Prime Minister laughs, I'm quite a lucky person that so far I only met people with a good sense of humor. But i'm stunned I heard that the prince just turned 28, and already is a verry active head of State, maybe you could introduce me to him. If he chose you as his senior aide he must be a good guy, The Prime Minister laughs.

"You know," Harmony smiled playfully, "In Fatatatutti, we eat royalty. I don't know if that applies to elected royalty or not. Royalty has been extinct in Fatatatutti since we ate our last king a couple of centuries ago. At least, if anybody has royal connections, they're not bragging about it. Of course, we don't go eating people willy-nilly. We only eat our own royalty. And from the looks of the royalty around here, the cholesterol wouldn't be healthy anyway."

The Prime Minister laughs, your absolutely right!!

"I had the feeling that Sam wanted to talk about politics, but maybe he decided that this isn't the best time and place. Have you thought of visiting Fatatatutti, Sam? You'll find that wherever you find two Fatatatutians, there will be three opinions."

The Prime Minister laughs, I'm quite a lucky person that so far I only met people with a good sense of humor. But i'm stunned I heard that the prince just turned 28, and already is a verry active head of State, maybe you could introduce me to him. If he chose you as his senior aide he must be a good guy, The Prime Minister laughs.

"What? You must have heard wrong. I just turned 28, the Prince is, like, 50. The Constitution says the Monarch has to be 40 or older," said Sam. "Have I thought of visiting?" Sam asked, turning to Harmony. "Not really. But I would like to." Sam avoided the subject of cannibalism. Instead, he turned back to the Prime Minister and said "I'll introduce you." He led him over to the Prince and tapped his shoulder.

"Yes?" Prince Johannes asked, turning from the other man. "Ah. More hand-shaking," he said. He held out his hand to the Prime Minister and said "Johannes de Vaar, Prince of Vaarshire."

"What? You must have heard wrong. I just turned 28, the Prince is, like, 50. The Constitution says the Monarch has to be 40 or older," said Sam. "Have I thought of visiting?" Sam asked, turning to Harmony. "Not really. But I would like to." Sam avoided the subject of cannibalism. Instead, he turned back to the Prime Minister and said "I'll introduce you." He led him over to the Prince and tapped his shoulder.

"Yes?" Prince Johannes asked, turning from the other man. "Ah. More hand-shaking," he said. He held out his hand to the Prime Minister and said "Johannes de Vaar, Prince of Vaarshire."

I indeed must have heard wrong, well I guess one of my special agents wasn't informed that right before informing me, well mistakes happen. I know him for like 5 years now and is one of my most loyal staff members. Butt then you are still verry young and on a high position for an 28 year old, my compliments!

Than The Prime Minister turned to the prince, indeed more handshaking he laughed, how nice to meet you sir, and they shaked hands. if I may introduce myself, I am Jonathan Roosevelt (http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/memoryalpha/en/images/thumb/5/5f/Archer-2161.jpg/200px-Archer-2161.jpg), Prime Minister of The Grand Duchy of Noordeinde.

"Nice to meet you," said Prince Johannes. "And I like to think that now, with the youth of the world becoming more and more politically active, it is important to have younger people in important positions. Sam is great at his job, even if he doesn't think so." Johannes patted Sam on the back.

"Thank you, sir," Sam said.

"Nice to meet you," said Prince Johannes. "And I like to think that now, with the youth of the world becoming more and more politically active, it is important to have younger people in important positions. Sam is great at his job, even if he doesn't think so." Johannes patted Sam on the back.

"Thank you, sir," Sam said.

Indeed sir, I absolutely believe that he does a great job, and you are right as well about starting youg in politics, While being at University at age 21 i became member of the capitols city council, and now at age 40 I am Prime Minister. I really believe that the kids are the future if they start young in whatever they are doing!

"I see Sam in Vaarliament... er, that is, the Vaar Parliament soon!" The Prince said. "Say, Sam, which party are you a member of?"

"I'm, uh, a Leftist," said Sam, rather quickly. "Excuse me," he said, heading off in the direction of the rest rooms.

"Well, if I could vote, I would vote for Sam for Parliament. I'm supposed to be politically neutral, though, so that would be in bad taste." He chuckled.

"Well, if I could vote, I would vote for Sam for Parliament. I'm supposed to be politically neutral, though, so that would be in bad taste." He chuckled.

"I don't understand," Harmony's forehead wrinkled. "If you're elected, why is it important to be neutral?"

"I don't understand," Harmony's forehead wrinkled. "If you're elected, why is it important to be neutral?"

If I did understand it right, the prince is as Head of State above al party politics, did I understand that well, The Prime Minister asked.

If I did understand it right, the prince is as Head of State above al party politics, did I understand that well, The Prime Minister asked.

"I'm just wondering about how anybody can get elected without taking a stand on issues. I'm suspicious that it isn't really an elective office at all.

"Royal Elections work differently. Two to five candidates are chosen by Parliament, and once they're selected, they have to abandon allegiance to any political party. The Monarch is meant to act as a neutral leader to represent all the people, from far-right to far-left. Parliament is the partisan branch of government," said Johannes. "Does it always turn out that way? No. But it's important that it looks like it does. It sounds bad to say that out loud, but it is the truth."

"Royal Elections work differently. Two to five candidates are chosen by Parliament, and once they're selected, they have to abandon allegiance to any political party. The Monarch is meant to act as a neutral leader to represent all the people, from far-right to far-left. Parliament is the partisan branch of government," said Johannes. "Does it always turn out that way? No. But it's important that it looks like it does. It sounds bad to say that out loud, but it is the truth."

well I guess if it works, it works, the Prime Minister says. And if I may say, I really like the both of you, I would like to take this moment to invite you to apply/build an embassy in my Country. Hold on I will write the adress were you can send the application forms to: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=588360

"Okay. I see what you mean," Harmony said thoughtfully. "We have a President who is elected seperately from Parliament but he or she doesn't have to be non-partisan. All of our elected representatives are expected to represent all of the people, not just their partisan causes. Of course, as you say, it doesn't always work that way in real life, but we're supposed to pretend that it does. Our President is mostly a ceremonial position. His or her only power is to dissolve Parliament and call an election, but only if the parties in Parliament can't agree on a coalition or something like that. The Presidency has actually been vacant for some time now and nobody seems to notice."

"Okay. I see what you mean," Harmony said thoughtfully. "We have a President who is elected seperately from Parliament but he or she doesn't have to be non-partisan. All of our elected representatives are expected to represent all of the people, not just their partisan causes. Of course, as you say, it doesn't always work that way in real life, but we're supposed to pretend that it does. Our President is mostly a ceremonial position. His or her only power is to dissolve Parliament and call an election, but only if the parties in Parliament can't agree on a coalition or something like that. The Presidency has actually been vacant for some time now and nobody seems to notice."

Hmm sounds familiar to me, our Duke has only a Ceremonial position as well, and he acts to "the outside" as Head of State, and my position actually is head of Government although I as well travel a lot abroad to make contact with other countries.

well I guess if it works, it works, the Prime Minister says. And if I may say, I really like the both of you, I would like to take this moment to invite you to apply/build an embassy in my Country. Hold on I will write the adress were you can send the application forms to: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=588360

"Umm... our government has a policy that we don't send ambassadors to countries where armed guards are needed. You hear on the news all the time about embassies being bombed or besieged, not to mention the small armies at the other embassies.

"Of course, we welcome ambassadors from other countries, but we don't allow foreigners to possess any kind of weapons in Fatatatutti. Under international law, your embassy is your sovereign territory and you can have whatever weapons you want there, but you can't carry weapons across our sovereign territory to get there.

"It's nothing against your country. You might not be like that at all. It's just our policy. I'm not speaking officially for our government, but I was the one who suggested the policy."

To bad, but I have respect for your decission, althoug I'd like to say that the "armed" guards aren't really needed,lucky me, The Prime Minister laughs, their just optional.

"You might want to visit our regional website at http://crozet.freeforums.org/ and set up an informal embassy. We have an Embassy Row but some ambassadors prefer to just hang out at the Sidewalk Cafe. There's always room for one more."

"You might want to visit our regional website at http://crozet.freeforums.org/ and set up an informal embassy. We have an Embassy Row but some ambassadors prefer to just hang out at the Sidewalk Cafe. There's always room for one more."

wow an embassy row sounds goods, although it's not verry polite to let a lady alone, butt let me call me my Secretary of State and ask his opinion it might be a verry good idear to set up an embassy in your region.

if your looking for me, I'm in my State Car (http://web.inter.nl.net/users/interniek/hagazine/evenementen2002/claus/limo.jpg) outside on the parkinglot making this important call, the prime minister smiles to Miss Chang and he left the ballroom with his Blackberry already on his right ear.

Although the Hydrosterian department handling foreign affairs had received the invitation immeditly a blizzard of particuarly uncommon ferocity had kept their various vessels grounded untill further notice, roughly six hours after receiving it the blizzard finally abated somewhat; choosing speed over appearence they dispatched Minister Bertrand Fenris in a Grumman G-73 Mallard loaded with a black and white electric Hydrosterian car modelled along the designs of a 1934 Chrysler Airflow.

Hence, arriving relativly late, but perfectly in control of the situation, the Chrysler car pulled up outside the hotel. Calmly exiting the vehicle and straigtening his pinstripe grey suit and tie, adjusting the hand sized head hunter watch that hung on a gold chain across his side, he walked into the hotel smiling at any cameramen who still remained; he proceeded through the entrance hall to the main area and feasted his eyes upon the great array of foreign leaders and representatives, bobbing for a moment at the doorway he walked slowly around the rooms edge searching for any notable faces.