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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 (462 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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Colcintra
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"A horse? Like, un cheval? That sounds...interesting. We must try this, perhaps soon?"

Fernando takes advantage of Louis diverting his attention momentarily to Lefkada to pour himself some more wine, then noticing that he'd given a cigarillo to Colonel Oileus.

"If you're going to make it that kind of gathering, Louis, at least share with the rest of us," exclaimed Fernando, slightly tipping his glass towards him.

"Indeed," started Antonío, as his attention was turned to Fernando and Louis, finishing off his wine that was left in his glass, "trying to leave us--excuse me."

He was interrupted by Jordán walking into the area, and bending down so that he may reach Antonio, whispering.

"Your Majesty, Captain Rodriguez has not received any good news, as of late. The airport has all ground operations suspended, for severe lightening on the field and around the area. They say it may be an hour or more."

Antonío sighs.

"Alright. Please keep me updated; I really don't want to sit here all day. But in the meantime, please bring the fruit and cheese platters, along with some more wine," responded Antonío, as he jokingly glances over to the table, "we're practically done with these."

Jordán smiles and nods.

"Of course, Anto--Your Majesty."

As he hurries away to fufill Antonío's orders, Antonío continues along with his conversation.

"As I was saying, um...oh yes, you better share with us and not leave us out," he said, grinning.
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Savasan
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Jacob's Main Guy

"Quite, my little babe", said Louis to Fernando. He put down the glass of wine and took out a cigarette sans marijuana and lit the little rod of smoky pleasure. He observed Oileus choking on the cigar, and said, "Easy now, sir. We often take one or two puffs of such a cigar and let it down." Louis returned to his conversation to Fernando. He took out a cigarette and said, "You want? Anyway, shall Marie come to the ball? I haven't seen her in quite a while. I'd love to see the kids. Charles would as well."
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Mastropa
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Zinovios Mesolongias, Epistatis

Through the tears in his eyes, Oileus blinked at Duke Louis from his hunched-over position, and tried to contain his hacking long enough to gasp out, “Thank you, sir.” Even that was too much for his throat to bear, and another bout of coughing quickly followed.

Strangely, Ambassador Lefkada barely noticed. She was too busy admiring the beautiful color of the wine currently swaying in her glass, especially when she held it up to the light. Half of her wondered if it tasted as good as it looked; the other half wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t already know the answer to that question, considering the amount she had already consumed. ‘Well, no need to wonder when I can find out with a sip,’ she thought to herself happily.

It was a large sip. In fact, it emptied the glass again. Sighing to herself, Lefkada turned back to the bottles in front of her and found the open one again. “I honestly don’t know why this glass won’t stay full,” she murmured aloud as she reached for the bottle. Picking it up, she frowned as she felt how light it was. “And the bottles are doing it too!”
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MAKARIA to the Achaian People:
Be as Many as the Stars
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Colcintra
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Fernando nods, reaching for the cigarrillo Louis was so kind to produce, after setting down his wine glass.

"Thank you kindly," he responded, grabbing a lighter that set on the table between the two.

He places one end in his mouth, lightening the opposite end of the cigarrillo. Soon enough, it came to life, as Fernando began to take drags of the intoxicating and delicious vapour. Taking it away from his mouth in one hand, he picks up his glass again in his other hand, and proceeds to take a drink.

"And of course she'll be there. I'd made sure to let her know on my way here, as well as the kids. They're quite grown up from the last time you two have seen them. And though I would say they've gotten better over the years, they're just as moody as every!"

As Fernando laughs along with Louis, Antonío eyes the whole scene staring the Achaian delegation. Seeing Colonel Oileus cough profusely from what was probably his first taste of a product such as a marijuana cigarrillo, he stifles laughter that was soon to erupt from him. But even so, Ambassador Lefkada's fascination with the fruit of the vine was...interesting to say the least. It's as if in this moment, she's investigating the who's and what's of such a liquid. Alas, she was on another glass, perhaps her fourth...or sixth, almost alone emptying the bottle that sit in front of her, to which she reaches for again. Seeing that her lips were moving, Antonío intently attempted to concentrate on them and keeping an ear out; to his avail, he was successful in what she mumbled.

"I know, right," he interjected, smiling, raising his glass too, "I thought it was only a problem I faced alone! I'm glad you see my plight. Things are not always easy for an Emperor."

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Mastropa
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Zinovios Mesolongias, Epistatis

Lefkada blinked as Emperor Antonio’s voice reminded her that she was not alone with the wine on the table before her. Glancing over at Antonio’s face--why was it swimming in her vision like that?--she suddenly remembered just what business she had come aboard this aircraft to conduct, and just how little she had accomplished since doing so. She struggled to think of something suitable with which to reply, and finally settled on, “I will have to ask Kera--I mean, the anax. I’m not sure he’s ever had a problem like this before.” She shrugged and took another ‘sip’ of wine. “But they don’t tell us anything important in International Diplo, so…” She drained the glass and said, “If he has anything like this, he’s been hoarding it. No one I know has said anything about it, anyway.”

Beside her, Colonel Oileus glared at his nominal superior--at least as long as the matter was diplomatic, his military credentials were second to her political ones--but he was not quite able to think of a reason to stop her from speaking. He knew there had to be one, but it was so fuzzy that he really couldn’t be bothered to hunt it down at this point. Really, he was getting too tired to be corralling recalcitrant children, or adults pretending to be children, especially when they were in the presence of international observers. Instead he turned his attention back to Louis and Fernando across the table from him, who seemed, unlike the Achaian delegation, to be well within their comfort zone. ‘Decadent nobility,’ the colonel thought resignedly. ‘Of course they would use their leisure time to learn how to smoke and drink to excess without it showing. As if that is the mark of a gentleman!’

Oileus, at least, was aware enough of his own situation that he congratulated himself on remaining coherent enough to string together that entire thought, before he mentally shrugged and let it float away. He glanced back at the burning cigarrillo in his hand. ‘Makaria give me strength,’ he thought, putting it to his lips and trying again. He followed that thought up almost immediately with another: ‘Let Kerameikos remain forever ignorant that this evening ever occurred. Please.’
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MAKARIA to the Achaian People:
Be as Many as the Stars
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Mastropa
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Zinovios Mesolongias, Epistatis

The intended conclusion of this thread (which deals with interesting adult ideas, folks, so if you think that's icky, turn away!):

Lefkada’s troubled dreams faded into the dull roar of the airliner around her as she returned, eventually, to wakefulness. She kept her eyes shut for a long moment, trying to figure out exactly what had woken her up, and hoping that she would be allowed to drift back to sleep before the plane arrived at Melun, but something--a feeling, a discomfort, that she couldn’t quite place--finally persuaded her to open her eyes and take stock of her situation. She found herself lying on her side in the single bedroom of the opulent jet liner, facing the door to the corridor; the floor between that door and the bed was littered with her clothes, and she concluded that she had been too drunk and too tired to bother cleaning up the mess when she had crashed the night before. Considering the slight ache, apparently not confined to her head but spread throughout her entire body, and her vague memories of the haze-filled conference room, Lefkada could completely understand why she hadn’t bothered with picking up after herself. Even now, she refused to think about even leaving the bed to bother with it.

The ache remained, as did a feeling of warmth that was both comforting and suffocating. Her skin felt encrusted with grime, but Lefkada was simply too lethargic to bother getting up to wash it off. Instead she let her eyes roam across the room in the hopes of distracting herself, jumping from her discarded clothing to the empty bottle of wine tipped over on the rug--it must have been empty before it had been left there, since there was no stain underneath it--to the bedside table in front of her. She furrowed her brow as she took in the half-empty jar of King’s Own honey sitting on the stand, still uncapped. It looked familiar… and important… and she suddenly connected the feeling of residue on her skin with the now-familiar coat-of-arms staring back at her on the uncapped half-empty jar of honey. It had been full when she had arrived in the room, she remembered suddenly, and the use to which it had been put… She tensed.

That was apparently the wrong thing to do. The suffocating warmth that she had tried to ignore tensed up with her, tightening around her midsection and pushing up behind her. Lefkada’s eyes widened as the body behind her pushed her over onto her stomach, but she didn’t dare to look behind her as she felt her bedmate crawl over her, instead keeping her gaze on the honey jar that seemed to cheerfully mock her current circumstances. Lefkada lost control of her breathing as she was covered, her aching muscles tensing up as her thoughts flew--it was obvious that her companion expected to be obeyed here, and it was now clear that she had obeyed him the night before, but sex while she had been drunk and high was one thing, and she was sober now… right?

As the man’s breath blew warm on the back of Lefkada’s neck, her racing thoughts came to a sudden halt. Then, without quite understanding why, the woman finally moved… and reached for the jar of honey. “I hope this is enough,” she whispered, as her Louis’s arm reached out above her to take the jar from her hands.

“We’ll make do.”
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MAKARIA to the Achaian People:
Be as Many as the Stars
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