Carissa shakes her head. “I know how they feel. It’s not their decision. I’m not just a kid, whether or not I look like it. He asked me to do this, I have to do this.”
(Lol I’m good either way ;P I’m not even entirely sure where their relationship is going, gotta love it when your characters just decide how things are going to be without asking you first XD)
Kansas tilts her head curiously, tucking a strand of her golden blond hair behind her ear. “Of course, what is it?”
"It sounds like you two will need to learn the art of using a sword." Szraijetkoff told Andrea and Luka.
Shortly before they finished saying that, a column of flame appeared and out stepped Iblion. Immediately everyone shied away and prepared to guard themselves before Iblion waved his hands; he was now wearing a dark burgundy suit with gold and ruby cufflinks. A red and black striped tie was affixed beneath the collar of a deep red shirt. His hair was well groomed, and the ghastly, daemonic appearance that once terrorised Monsone was gone, instead, he bore striking resemblance to Spencer's face, only older and with much crisp, sharper features.
He waved a hand. "Please, please, i'm not here to kill you...but i will say your weapon won't be necessary."
The Royal Emperor watched through a small, hidden camera afixxed to Iblion.
******
Iblion brushed himself down and swung his right arm upwards. As he did so, a black leather suitcase materialised in his hand; he placed it on the table and sat down, a red leather armchair appearing as he did so.
Once he had done so, he lounged briefly, steepling his fingers as his gold, pupilless eyes glanced across the Monsonians. With a small shrug, he reached to his suitcase and opened it, plucking a small note from it. He cleared his throat.
"'To the Monsonian President-'...yes i know it's adressed to my boyfriend, i can't find him, but as i was saying...'To the Monsonian President...i deeply apologise for the impropper, and violent actions conducted by my subject, Iblion.' thats me...'He was sent to ensure that Aerlanican aims of using the entity known as Spencer as a counter to him, and disregarded the fact he was in your custody. His actions are rude, but i fear this may have had the unfortunate event of placing us on opposing sides. I wish to make it clear that i do not, at all, wish to be in conflict with Monsone as my aims are merely the pacification and demilitarisation of the hostile, belligerent and expansionistic Aerlanican state. As such, i wish to propose a treaty whereupon we will agree to not fight one another, and necessary payments will be given to compensate the families of any victims and, if need be, give Monsone the rights to an extra-solar colony planet.'"
Iblion looked to them all.
"Signed, the Royal Emperor."
He shrugged.
"If that isn't sweet enough...i could do what you engineers couldn't."
Mezer raised an eyebrow, calm returning to his body. "And what would that be?"
Iblion scoffed. "Your little stunt with an anti-celestial field to keep people like me out; i can give it to you as a token of good will. Simply agree to this little...here..."
He paused as he rummaged around in the suitcase and produced a small, single paged document that...effectively was (after reading) a stock standard pact of non-aggression and mutual neutrality; Monsone would not attack Tyramon or her allies, and would not interfere in Tyramonian conflicts, and nor would Tyramon attack Monsone or Monsonian allies or interfere in Monsonian conflicts. The Royal Emperor's signature was already signed.
"Just...sign along the dotted line down there...and not only will Tyramon not touch hide nor hair of you...but not even a single atom of Celestial matter will be able to cross into Monsone...deal? sounds like a good deal, wonderful deal...i daresay, i'd sign it...and can you tell that Andrea bitch to stop hyperventilating, this is what you get for having a woman in power."
Luka stood up before a force sat him back down, matching a flick of Iblion's fingers.
"Now now, these are peace negotiations...not a time to pick a fight."
He sat back. "I will be needing that paper back, though...i sorta got to give it back to the big guy up there."
Mezer looked to Iblion. "You arent even going to say sorry?"
Iblion shook his head. "I was told to deliver a message and a note, i wasn't told to apologise; you did steal my son from me, after all."
Sarah Graham, the diplomat sent to parlay with the Azulakasian individuals as per the culture exchange treaty, was currently in the process of sitting at a restaurant and coming to the crushing, depressing and horrific realisation that alcohol was banned in Azulakas. Instead, she bought as much cough syrup as she could and attempted to get drunk off of it.
What followed was a very, very awkward situation when the Azulakassian law enforcement found an Aerlanican woman, drunkenly curled up in the middle of a sidewalk, weeping and crying about how the world was ending.
As for the Aerlanican government...or rather, Governments...both of them requested recogition from the Azulakassian island republic, one claimed to be a proper government underneath Madylin Jones, co-operating with Tyramon, and the other was the Aerlanican Federation-in-Exile.
Rolled eyes were the reply, closely followed by the sound of a printer that produced a small piece of paper. It was placed into a lanyard which read "VISITOR", bearing the name of CK and the occupation of..."Lord of the Cicadas".
He was then led by a guide further into the building, past a room filled with cubicles and the sound of office work, closely followed by another hallway. They entered a working elevator, went up to the fifth (and highest) floor, and entered past another sea of cubicles into an office.
The office was filled with various pieces of artworks, with one or two of them being ones deemed lost or destroyed (how they ended up in an industrial sector was unknown). Additionally, there were several other more escoteric and eldritch artworks, as well as a few dream catchers. Sitting at a large, wooden desk was a young female. Her bleached hair was cut into a bob. She wore a large jacket, with what appeared to be at least four necklaces with four individual crystals hanging from her neck. A heart was tattoed to the back of her left hand as her fingers danced across a keyboard. She looked up, saw the agent, and raised an eyebrow as she read the lanyard.
"A...'Lord of the Cicadas'...what? you some sorta insect bender or whatever?"
It is not long before a small fleet of coast-guard vessels are at the scene of where rumors and reports have it that something fell out of the sky. Searchlights scan the dark waters and sonar bounces back and forth between the ships and the ocean floor. It takes many hours, and only when dawn breaks does the slight tinge of blood mixed with sea-spray gets reported, opening up an investigation onshore. It is another hour before the RACGS Lunar Tide sends a signal to her sister ships. “We found something.”
Port Aluszia, Hui’ Island, Azulakas
Sarah Graham would awaken sometime later in what appears to be a medical center, its eerily quiet, outside of the quiet noises of a woman wearing medical colors seemingly looking over documents. Memories slowly return though blurry of a long night of chugging down what cough-syrup she could get a hold off. She’s failed. She failed her diplomatic mission to open up the island nation. Her homeland is occupied by Tyramon. The looks of suspicion and blame by strangers wary of her presence during a short time of epidemic seemingly caused by her presence haunt her. It is here where she picks up that the woman has been trying to get her attention “Hello? Ms. Graham?”
Ashi Safir’s Beach House
It proves most definitely a long night. President Ierna and Ashi Safir talk back and forth, having poured over books upon books of the recorded history of Azulakas. By the morning, it seems that some understanding has been reached between the two, the original proposal shown to Ashi now having many words inked out and pieces of paper containing new paragraphs and many, many edits to grammar and wording. “This… this will have to do Ierna.” Ashi states, yawning, “You have kept me up all night, it is now your duty to put some sense into the heads of the monarchs.” “With all due respect Mbak, I am uncertain this-“ “Court order, President Ierna, go tend to your responsibilities.” With that, Ierna nods, saying her farewells before returning to her escort. In coming out the door, she disturbs a sleeping Micah, who seems to have fallen asleep talking to Ethan who in turn has watched over him throughout the night.
“Come along now, we will not make the legislature wait any longer.” “Yes, ma’am.” Ethan quickly looks back at the groggy Micah, “Take care, old friend.” He whispers quietly before quickly stepping in line and escorting President Ierna back towards the main city.
With the current situation in Aerlanica, the Republic of Azulakas seems to have waved off attempts at acknowledging either government, and silence is what seems to be all that is given in response.
“I.. eh… want some.. help with-" she starts off before a lad with blonde hair bursts into the room with thunderous effect, seemingly soaked by rain. The dark-haired girl jumps a little defensively at New Drachma’s sudden appearance quite close to her, greeting him with ocean-deep eyes that form a glare that would seem to sentence him to the depths of Davy Jones’ locker. It only lasts a moment, before Azulakas sighs, looking like she might give up on her request and disappear. ‘maybe this was a mistake…’
Alena shrugged. "I presume it's something to do with your isolation?"
Sarah, who's legs were too long for the bed, turned over and burried her head in the pillow. "Leave me alone." She said, her voice (while muffled) filled with sorrow and grief.
The woman sighed. "Miss Graham-"
"Leave me alone! i just lost my country, ok? it's not every day you lose your home for the fourth time."
"It can't be...wait...fourth time?"
Sarah nodded as she began to sob once more.
"Yeah...fourth...i just...what did i do to deserve this...we didn't do anything wrong, we followed all the rules, we tried to make the world a better place and make allies and look at us."
A pause.
"Everyone keeps trying to kill us all...i just want peace, we just want peace, but we're always kept from it."
She slowly trailed off, descending into further sobs.
"And there isnt. any. booze. to. get. drunk. fro-om..."
Her sobs intensified, however the medical staff couldn't determine if the loss of her nation caused her such sorrow, or the noticable teetotalism of Azulakas in such a time of shock was what she deemed unbearable.
Alena shrugged. "Well tell me, if you could go back in time, and one day walk out of your cabin to see someone to have such a relationship with, who would you want to see? Can be real or someone you made up."
“I am using my head. I’ll always be around for them. They’re everything to me. They’re both doing so much good out there, and I’m tired of feeling like I’m not doing anything at all.” Carissa sighs softly.
Kansas looks between Drachma and Azulakas. “Hey, Azul. Why don’t we go grab some waffles for lunch. We can talk somewhere where it’s a little quieter. And if you want to we can bring Drachma too?”
Macy smiles and gets herself settled in with the two of them, barely looking up as her dad snaps a picture of the little family.
Noelle nods. “Yeah.”
Kiralyn’s eyes widen in mock hurt and she gives a little scoff.
(Well I’ve got a character who’s been... trapped... for several hundred years and is in need of a rescue, she might be able to connect to someone through dreams.)
"Oh...wow...that's a heavy question...and one I never really gave much thought." Witta paused to think for a few seconds. "I suppose...I suppose I would not have one ideal person, but I would choose based the people I saw. Although the choices back in that village were not great. I might even prefer solitude. I suppose then...I would like someone with intelligence. Not knowledge per se, as that can always be gained with time, but intelligence in...the proficiency and desire to think. I didn't see much of that in that village, and perhaps it was all the better that nobody there cared to question me, lest it threaten my survival."
The cat stops and looks at him, still tired. It lost its balance and fell over, and it seemingly was a bit dizzy.
(I'm surprised they aren't questioning what is going on more. But I guess maybe it is because there is no one to ask.)
CK looked at the lanyard and was clearly not amused.
He placed down the blueprints and folder on the desk and said "We need you to make some stuff for us. It's a matter of galactic survival." At the same time, the air on either side of CK shimmered slightly, giving an extremely subtle hint to the presence of the two heavily armed cloaked Cicada agents acting as CK's body guards. The blueprints were for a 25 meter long astral adamantium spear, large enough for a giant robot to use it. The handle had a few points on it that allowed for things to be attached to it. The folder contained heavily edited and redacted documents on the CEVA and Telamon's Spear projects. There was just enough information in the documents to show that the spears were intended to be used as weapons against Iblion, the spears being wielded as... spears by a giant robot for the CEVA Project, and being used as faster than light projectiles for the Telamon's Spear Project. Across both projects, a total of 10 spears are required.
Monsone
"Target has reappeared!" yells someone aboard the Heavy Assault Ark Longinus.
In Monsone, the AENU-As have started returning to orbit after circling Peter I for a bit, until they suddenly started darting towards Monsone's robot hanger, passing over Peter I at supersonic speeds in the process.
Azulakas
The thing the RACGS Lunar Tide found was the remnants of some kind of ship or creature resting on the seafloor. Blood and floating debris litter the waters above it. Among the floating debris is fragments of flesh and bone mixed in with pieces of metal and what seem to be ship components. The creature/ship thing itself appeared to be either a whale or bird of roughly 1,900 meters in length with a 950 meter wingspan that has been turned into what seems to be a living ship. One of the wings seems to have been blown apart as parts of it are scattered about the surrounding seafloor. The main body appears to have been partially split in two and the remaining wing is almost completely separated from it, being only attached by severely damaged and deform metal struts. Part of the main body has been caved in by... something.
There are no detectable vital signs, meaning it is completely dead.
The woman watching over her takes a gentle breath, providing Sarah with tissue before sitting down next to her.
"Miss Graham, I.. it must be hard. I know that. But understand that we'll help you through it, as long as you let us." She takes a moment to let her words sink in before continuing. "I'll delay your visit from the head guard. I can also get you in contact with Dr. Arapan, they'll help you with your heart more than I can." She gives a soft smile, "Take your time, and don't mind me." She says as she gets up and gives the foreigner some space, keeping quiet as she continues to look over papers at a nearby desk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Azulakas concedes, "Fine, he can come-" she starts off before Rei Khan shows up, causing Azulakas to wonder if the rest of the region would show up before they went anywhere. She takes a moment, quelling her frustrations with social interaction, as the other three discuss the weather and what to eat. She pushes a folded paper over to North South North West Kansas. Its a little difficult to read her stylized handwriting at first, though makes things a little clear. Therapist wants me to open up. Can you help me find people to do that with?
The Reborn Imperium of New Drachma
The Democratic Khanate of Rei Khan
The Rei Khans Wife of North South North West Kansas
The Empire of Tyramon
The Federation of Aerlanica
The Intergalactic Federation of Roxium
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