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Leavin' On A Jet Plane; Don't Know When I'll Be Back Again
Topic Started: Nov 3 2014, 03:43 AM (461 Views)
Colcintra
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The afternoon sun hans off in the distance, slowly making its decent from its zenith to meet the horizon. Its rays illuminated the Austianese Capital, Castratene, on a clear, cloudless afternoon. Antonío was most pleased that the League's second day meeting didn't run so long as the previous day, allowing him to return back to Dawinia, with still some daylight left. However, that was the plan before the conclusion today. His car made its way through the city, mostly on their Autobahnen (Motorways) and some surface streets, and even though the drive was more lackadaisical than purpose-driven, they kept their speed at a little under 128 kph (80 mph).

'Willkommen am Flughafen Castratene-Hauptstadt,' a sign read, as they passed under it, veering off the main road to head towards the VIP Terminal and Hangars. They made good time, enough to get them there before the rest of those who were to accompany Antonío to Melun.

A few moments later, they arrive in front of the hanger where his plane his staged, an Aeruña 787-9 VIP, engines spooling at a low rate, but not fully on. As the car finally came to a stop, Antonío steps out of the car, proceeding to walk towards the carpet, leading to the air-stars to reach the cabin door, however sees the Captain Gerardo Faustino Biel D'Rodriguez and lead Flight Attendant Jordán Feliciano Quinones, to which he's holding a chalice of red wine for the Emperor, at the top of the stairs. As he walked towards them, they quickly stopped their discussion, turning their attention to Antonío.

"Your Majesty," started Captain D'cruze, as the two bowed, "we're ready to depart for Hamunaptra."

"Ah, I should have called while I was incoming; we're heading to Melun now, with some of the other delegations," responded Antonío, grabbing the chalice, raising it up to the flight attendant, "and thank you, Jordán."

He bows, smiling, and walks away, to go relay the new information to the other flight attendants and prepare accordingly.

"Oh, of course, Your Majesty. I shall go to file a new flight plan posthaste."

As the Captian heads to the cockpit, Antonío proceeds deeper into the cabin, to the conference room, where it's front-centre of the aircraft. Taking a seat and starting to enjoy his wine, some seven minutes later, Jordán knocks and enters.

"Your Majesty, those you were expecting have started to arrive."

He continues into the room with a large tray with three bottles of the The King's Own, a niche Auvernian wine, and six glasses. He then takes all what was on the tray and spaces it evenly on the table, then waiting for Antonío's response.

"Great. Please, send them up right away. Do make sure that they are well taken off, from the point then set foot in this cabin, to the moment the de-plane in Melun. And also make sure that those that that are non-essential personnel are escorted to the aft of the plane, understood?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. Speaking of, I have news from the captain. We are temporarily grounded, due to severe, inclement weather in and around Melun. Rather than depart and incur turbulence and risk safety to your person, as well as waste fuel and unnecessary emissions, the Capitan has ordered it so, with strong advice from the Austianese ATC and Dawinian counterparts back home. So..should we still invite everyone onboard?"

Antonío doesn't really react, only shrugging.

"If that what it is, so shall it be. Still do bring them onboard, we'll just lounge around while we wait; it is of no issue to me."

"Very good, Your Majesty. I shall see to it immediately."

Jordán bows and quickly leaves the room, to make his way to the cabin door, ready to welcome those that will join the flight today. Hopefully, the weather will clear up and depart soon.
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His Most Sacred & Royal Majesty, King Tomáç Alonzo (IV) de Xuadillan

'One Crown, One Faith, One People'

~ The Holy and Most Exalted Osgradi ~


King of Yçoda and of Treztal
Head of the Royal House of Xuadillan
Defender of the Yçodan & Treztalish People | Defender of the Sacrolic Faith


Lui Cel Mai Sacru Si Regale Majestatea Sa, Regele Tomáç Alonzo (IV) de Xuadillan

'Aceeași Coroană, O Singură Credință, Un Singur Popor'

~ Cele Sfântul Și Cel Mai Înălțat Osgradi~


Regele Îșoda și Țrestăl
Șef al Casei Regale de Xuadillan
Apărător al Poporului Yseăn & Trestheză | Apărător al Credinței Șățolise

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Savasan
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Jacob's Main Guy

The limo was parked in the courtyard. They were running a tad late and they were rushing to leave. Louis came into theb courtyard with his bottles of wine, and told his aides."Alright, let's get this wine in there first guys." said Louis. "Right, that looks good. We have our entertainment there. I can teach you some drinking games that I played when I was an undergraduate." Observing the time on his watch, Louis coaxed his aides to load up the car quicker. Seeing that everyone had brought on their stuff, Louis got inside the cramped limo. "Right, who has some stories to tell while we get over the airport..." the door was closed behind him.

"Driver, take us to Castratene International!"

The Auvernian delegation arrived at the airport. Louis grabbed his bags and his wine and marched onto the plane. He was thoroughly impressed with Dawinia's money. "What a delightful plane, Cousin.", thought Louis. The wine took effect while his gang was in the car and Louis was feeling a tad drunk, but he was able hold his own. Paul was high; Dietrich had given him some of the King's Own cigarillos - a gift from Louis on his birthday a few days prior. A man escorted the delegation onto the plane, where they met Antonio and Fernando.

"Cousin, where can we place our luggage?", mused Louis. "I'd like to sit with you." He said this with a big grin. He saw the wine glass, and he saw the "King's Own" on the table. 'Excellent', he thought.
Edited by Savasan, Nov 3 2014, 06:52 AM.
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Mastropa
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Zinovios Mesolongias, Epistatis

Ambassador Lefkada frowned as Romar pulled the diplomatic car up to the growing collection of international diplomats on the tarmac beside a parked Dawinian airliner. It was certainly impressive--though admittedly, any large jet would be--but it also represented the last chance Lefkada would have to get some actual work done, considering how Duke Louis had described the ritualistic partying and rather distracting atmosphere of Auvernia’s prime cities. The ambassador felt her irritation spike at the reminder that the League meeting had been cut short for the sake of a party in a distant city when there was still so much work to be done. It seemed to her that the nations of Victorium were not as interested in their own safety as Achaian Peloponnese had always been--or perhaps, instead, they were interested in their individual safety alone, having no intentions or plans to integrate their defenses with their neighbors’ for the safety of the region as a whole. Lefkada hoped that she could change that with what opportunity this journey provided, but she knew also that Melun was not that far distant by jet. She could only hope that she found some common ground before the group arrived.

The car pulled to a stop, and Romar came around to open the back door for Lefkada and her entourage. Stepping out of the car as soon as she could, the ambassador took a closer look at the Dawinian aircraft while the baggage was removed from the car’s trunk and the military officers who had spent the last several months in Castratene made sure that they were finally prepared to leave. Finally she turned to Colonel Oileus. “Instruct Major Korinna to join the rest of our people wherever the Dawinians want them to stay. You will remain with me to continue our negotiations.”

“Yes, madam,” Oileus answered. He turned toward the other officers, still congregated near the car. “Major, the ambassador…”

Lefkada tuned out the colonel and walked instead toward the Dawinian flight attendant who was waiting at the base of the air stairs. Getting directions to where Emperor Antonio expected her to arrive took almost no time at all, though it was time enough for Colonel Oileus to rejoin her as she was escorted up the air stairs and into the cabin. The flight attendant’s directions proved true, not that the ambassador had doubted them; a simple turn to the left upon entering the plane took her into a sumptuous conference room, where Emperor Antonio and Duke Louis of Auvernia were already waiting.

Oileus sniffed at the air slightly before murmuring to Lefkada, “Do you smell that?”

Lefkada nodded, taking in the Auvernian prince’s exceptionally good mood. “I imagine you’ll smell a great deal more of it before we disembark,” she said. “Something tells me we’ll get precious little work done on this flight…” How ironic was it that the one person with whom Lefkada had managed to get any work done at all during this trip also proved to be the man responsible for so many wasted opportunities!

The ambassador sighed, allowing her gaze to wander throughout the conference room. Taking a second look at the tables in front of the two royals, she finally allowed herself to relax. ‘Regardless of our lack of progress,’ she thought, ‘at least there will be some compensation for the unnecessary wait.’ The bottles of The King’s Own sitting on the table gleamed in the lamplight as if in cheerful agreement.
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Tirscail
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Cathair sat in the car watching the scenery go by as they headed towards the airport. He was pondering the news he had just received from home, His Father the Rí Ruirech of Bràghad Albainn has launched a surprise attack on the Northern Coast of Ìthairrfónn seizing several coastal holdings. The Rí of Kymry and Innis Tìle have denied the Ard Rí’s call to arms and have rallied behind his father’s claimant. The claimant in question is Cathair’s sister Mórríghan. It is a bold move Cathair thought, but as the car drove on he began to understand the cleverness behind his father’s decision. His sister is devout almost to the point of being zealous but she is fair and thoughtful enough in her choices, The Circle would approve of her and she would probably be popular enough among the common folk. But the real reason Cathair knew was that his father would easily be able to maneuver himself to be in control as well as probably playing on the greed of the other Rí who may see her as a weak leader. Cathair was glad his father did not press his name even though he would be the obvious choice by birth. He had little desire to rule anything which is why he joined the Fianna in the first place instead of learning to rule, much to his father’s disapproval.

Cathair pushed these thoughts aside as they neared the airport and decided that he should enjoy himself and not worry about the conflict. He was still currently acting as a diplomat for his nation and will take the chance to learn about these foreign leaders and interact with them.

As he arrived he began to wonder what the foreign celebration would be like, having spent little time outside of Itius overall. As he stepped aboard the plane the memory of the uneasy sensation that comes with flying came to him and he remembered why. Stepping into the conference room of the plane that was already full of people. Cathair desperately wanted a drink to calm the unease, he had been unable to find anything of quality yet on his trip so far having had little time to acquire some so far. Looking to greet his hosts and fellows his eyes fell upon what sat upon the table in front of them, bottles of The King’s Own and his unease fell away. “This will do nicely” he thought.
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Colcintra
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Antonío was almost startled as his brother, Fernando enters the conference room, taking a seat to the right of Antonío.

“I guess you beat me then,” he started, grabbing an empty wine glass and pouring himself some of The King’s Own into his glass, “how did you even get here first, even though you left after me?”

Antonío grins, responding with a shrug.

“We weren’t even speeding. You know, you should have taken a longer head-start.”

They both laugh, being interrupted by their Auvernian cousin, Louis, entering the room.

“Ah, Louis, finally! Oh, the smaller items you make keep, bigger ones can be given to any of the flight attendants to put in the hold. But please, take a seat, we’ll be here for a while anyway.”

They all devolve into a conversation, something about the great vintage and palatable aroma of the Auvernian wine, interrupted by the Achaian and Itiusian diplomats, Lefkada and Cathair, respectfully, as they enter the room. It looks as if they had already been taken care of, talking about their various pieces of luggage, and escorted to the proper location.

“Great, we’re all here,” started Antonío, gesturing for them to all take a seat around the table. “Please, help yourself to some of The King’s Own while we wait—it looks like we shall be here for the time being; there is some inclement weather in Melun.”

He glances at Louis; Fernando interrupts.

“But that shouldn’t stop us anyway. So while we’re here, with what I think are the core members of this organization, we should speak freely here, if we did have anymore thing to say.”
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Mastropa
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Lefkada took the offered seat with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” she said, taking up a glass and reaching for the open bottle of wine. “I imagine at least that we can be comfortable when we discuss our business…” She glanced at Duke Louis for a moment, before deciding not to be rude; nonetheless, she was quite certain that His Highness was far beyond ‘comfortable’ at this point, and would likely be useless in the coming discussions. Thankfully, her main worries at this point dealt more directly with Dawinia and Itius. Lefkada would have plenty of time to discuss matters with Auvernia’s representatives when the plane landed in Auvernia itself.

Colonel Oileus gave the ambassador a wary glance as he took the seat next to her, across from Louis. “Perhaps business will have to wait,” he murmured to her.

Lefkada turned to glare at the officer. “I would like to get done as much as I can,” she insisted. “The sooner we are fully prepared, the more at ease the region as a whole will feel.”
Edited by Mastropa, Nov 5 2014, 08:31 AM.
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Savasan
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"I headbutted a horse once, Fernand.", said Louis as he got into a discussion about some past idiocy he committed when he was a youth. "It was quite the transcendent experience, like the damned Buddha under the tree."
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Mastropa
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Colonel Oileus stared at the prince sitting in front of him for a long moment, before turning back to Ambassador Lefkada. “I really don’t think--”

Lefkada glanced back at the colonel with an empty glass in her hand. “The sooner, the better,” she said as she reached for the bottle of The King’s Own to refill the glass. Having done that much, she returned her attention to Emperor Antonio, who was casting amused glances at his brother and cousin. “Your Majesty, if this isn’t a bad time, I would like to discuss the western naval defenses of Victorium in more detail…” She frowned in confusion and looked down at her empty glass. Sighing, she reached for the wine bottle and refilled it. “I’m concerned that the summary we discussed in the meeting this morning is not sufficient for defending the League from an actual attack from the west.”

The ambassador took a sip of wine, or she meant to; glancing down in frustration, she found the glass to be empty again. She stared at the glass for a moment, before finally sighing and reaching for the bottle one more time. Clearly Dawinian glasswork needed some work, if it was weak enough to spring leaks.
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Colcintra
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Antonío turned his attention to Lefkada, as she was asking a question to him. As she was continuing on, he couldn't help but notice the eager speed that she was indulging in the wine. In a different setting, and different time, he may have felt that it was a bit uncouth, however, the air here was one of comradery and friendliness. He too finished his glass and reached forward to pour some more in his glass.

"Well, to be completely honest with you, that is something that I must finalise with the other nations of Auvernia and Itius. Everything is a bit scattered, to the extent that all of us would be doing our own thing, however, like I've said, that will be talked about throughly with them. But one thing that I would figure is that we'd blockade the mouth of the Victorum Sea, so that's something."

Antonío paused, taking another sip from his wine glass.

"Louis, any ideas?"
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Savasan
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Louis turned from his conversation with Fernando, and turned to face Antonio and Lefkada. The wine, at this point, had time to seep into Louis's core of being, and now his constitution was slightly (how passe!) compromised. Still, he tried to answer honestly, "I am afraid I not the person who is 'in the know' about these about these things. You would need to ask someone in Melun, particularly Charles or particularly someone in the Admiralty about any plans laid down by the government. I only deal with the ground forces. Skin on skin, stripped to the waist."
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Mastropa
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Lefkada stared at Louis for a long moment as she tried to understand just what the Auvernian prince had said to her. Finally she finished the wine in her glass in order to fortify herself, both due to the frustration of seeing her attempts at serious business stall once again, and also because of the nonsense she feared she might have to deal with from her fellow travellers until they all arrived in Melun. Reaching again for The King’s Own, the ambassador turned back to Emperor Antonio as she poured another glass. “Perhaps this is bold of me, Your Majesty, but I have to ask: Does Dawinia have any plan at all to cooperate with other nations if it faces an enemy it can’t match alone?”
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Colcintra
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Antonío taps his finger on the wine glass as he thinks of a response to Lefkada. Perhaps it wasn't the best of ideas to bring the wine out, at least now. It's not as if it's impacting him greatly, however, he's starting to feel the effects, given he was indulging before everyone else had arrived. But alas, there'd be more to discuss once they all arrive in Melun.

"Yes...yes, of course. If we would ever find ourselves in that case, we would call upon not only our valued allies, but to those in the immediate region as well. As an integral part of the continent's trade and security, a major threat and attack to Victorium's most western, continental nation would act as an attack to the region itself, at least I do think so. In fact, any attack on us would have the same impact, perhaps more or less, yet still the same."

Again he takes another sip, going over his thoughts.

"But like I may have mentioned, I will not seek to scale back the national militaristic forces at this time. It may also find you more comforting that our military is more than its Imperial Air Force, Army, and Naval Service. The Dawinian Imperial Guard and Civil Guard are, too, militaristic units of the armed forces and if such a time arises that more abled-bodied persons are needed, they will be called to serve their duties."
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Mastropa
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The ambassador nodded slowly, though she did so with a frown. “I am relieved, Your Majesty,” she said, “but only a little. I thank you and your nation for remaining on alert at the behest of your neighbors, when Dawinia seems to have other pressing matters to deal with as well. But I still worry that Victorium has no collective plan to deal with outside aggression. It makes the whole region vulnerable.” Lefkada sighed and sipped at her nearly-empty glass. “There’s nothing really that Achaian Peloponnese can do about it. We are too far away to help; we will depend on Dawinia and its neighbors to defend the western approaches, while we focus our attention on the east.” Reaching for the wine bottle once more, the ambassador frowned when she lifted it; the bottle was nearly empty. Deciding that she would at least finish the job she had started, Lefkada poured the rest of the wine in the bottle into her glass and handed the now-empty bottle to Colonel Oileus. “Take care of this, will you?” she asked, distracted as she took another sip and looked back over to the emperor.

Oileus gave the bottle a startled look, as if wondering how he had found himself in this position. “I… suppose?” he asked in confusion, but with Lefkada already turning away, it was clear that the ambassador had not heard him. The colonel sighed and simply put the bottle back on the table. There was nothing else to do.
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Savasan
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Seeing that Oileus sat there, not having a good time, Louis momentarily paused his conversation with Fernando, and produced a cigarillo from his breastpocket. "Colonel Oileus, do you smoke? You seem like the smoking kind of man. Would you like a cigarillo, my good man?"
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Mastropa
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The colonel stared at Duke Louis for a moment. “I, uh, I apologize, Your Highness,” he began. “I am currently on duty--”

“One won’t hurt, Colonel,” Lefkada interrupted, turning back to Oileus with a pointed look. “I’m sure His Highness would appreciate a second opinion on the quality of his nation’s niche products.” She gave him a glare that made it obvious what Oileus’s stated opinion would have to be; the colonel wondered if she realized just how obvious she was being about it.

Nonetheless, Oileus turned back to Louis. “I would… appreciate the opportunity to sample The King’s Own, Your Highness,” he murmured as he reached out to take the offered cigarillo, wondering just what kind of trouble would befall him for neglecting his duty.

Ambassador Lefkada nodded to the colonel, before returning her attention to refilling her wine glass. A cloud of smoke, followed by Oileus beginning to cough and choke, failed to distract her from tipping another bottle over her glass, even as the distinctive smoke began to float throughout the cabin.
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Be as Many as the Stars
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