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Post by Cubonia on Aug 26, 2016 0:06:16 GMT -5
Bells boomed throughout the Cubonia capitol of Bataille. It was a remarkable day, as it meant the Union of the Empire of Cubonia and Prussio. With both nations being at the forefront of the industrial advancements and mass produced steel, many nations either viewed this as an opportunity or a threat. With Prussios recent independence from the Western Empire, they quickly needed to consolidate their position in the world, lest they fall without allies into another occupation. Cubonia, recognizing the mutual gain both nations could have, quickly proposed the marriage alliance.
The Imperial Palace itself was decorated and restored to its full grandeur, the grounds swept and polished as the shiny marble and cement pavement shined with new life. The Imperial Banners of the ruling house blew in the air high and mighty, a beacon of the prospering Empires success and pride. Guards dressed in the Imperial colors, their black coats well ironed and their shoes shined like a newly made mirror, stood heroic with their faces and eyes filled with pride and discipline. The Palace itself was a massive structure consisting of three main buildings that we're all connected in the shape of a U. The West Wing remained fairly staunch, military officials coming in and out of the building at hurried paces, mostly ignoring the processions of the day and had little regard for the guests or the activities. The East Wing however was the opposite. Decorated in splendor, the governmental officials seemed to stop what they were doing, joining in in the activities and making conversation with the guest. The Palace grounds themselves were filled with people, both home and foreign dignitaries discussing plots and plans beneath on benches or sitting near the fountain that adorned the middle of the pavement. A procession of Guards would be escorting people to the Chapel, where a Priest sat patiently waiting for the procession of the Bride to arrive.
The Emperor himself sat in one of the pews inside the hall, his Chief of Finance whispering in his ear about some absurd cost while his Hand wrote down some unknown information. Random couriers and diplomats would approach him every so often, giving him congratulations or finding some odd way to address him in hope of gaining his favor. The man himself was dressed in a fine suit, his families Coat of Arms pinned to his suit. The man himself was not a bad looking man. He had sharp features, thick but well combed black hair as most men of his family did, and a pair of sharp and intelligent blue eyes. Easy to smile but hard to please, the man had a very serious disposition about him as one would expect of the Emperor. A man of 27, his face seemed to have lost the joy over the years and lines now creased the mans face. Small shadows hung underneath the mans eyes, showing he had experienced many sleepless days and nights as he was known as a man who was always on his feet, ready to lead and rule.
// basically just arrive as a dignitary from your nations or even your nations leader if you want and rp with each other and attend the wedding
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Post by The Protecterate of Ag Wenn on Aug 27, 2016 0:52:47 GMT -5
A telegram message arrives in Bataille, from Gaenmor:
Our most esteemed Security Administrator and Diplomatic Envoy, Guildmaster Erwanna Argd Masonn, will arrive tonight on a Wennic transport vessel to attend the diplomatic wedding being held at your capital.
Accompanying her will be five armed guards from the 1st Homeland Division of our military. We request that she be permitted to have them at her side for safety reasons not directly involving the United Empire of Cubonia or its subjects.
May there be glory to both our nations.
Later, just hours before the commencement of the ceremony, a plain-looking woman wearing a pitch-black military uniform embellished with several large, shiny medals and a fine, precise golden trim steps off of a ship's platform with effortless stride. With bright eyes and wide grin, in juxtaposition to her firm and unwavering posture, she gleefully surveys the docks, pointing out minute details about the French carpentry or of the various uniforms of those around her to the unnamused guards that follow in her stead. The presence of her wonderment is overt and slightly unsettling to the surrounding folk, who have never seen a diplomat from Ag Wenn, let alone one so startlingly bemused by everything. The guard behind her follow her with extreme precision. Minor cues of displeasure from the diplomat keep them back in line--they obviously fear her to some extent.
For a few minutes, Erwanna remained transfixed on the architecture of a particular pillar, remarking upon its beautiful Frankish heritage to her guards. A few other diplomats gave her dirty looks until she resolved to continue into the hall.
As The Emperor shooed away a dirty Germanic diplomat, a simple-looking woman no older than 40 took to in front of the pew, her green eyes transfixed on the legendary man. Noticeable in her gaze was a distinct, almost troubling tiredness, the dull gray bags under her eyes accentuated their piercing greeness. Numerous crow's feet vie for space on the outskirts of her eyes. Her auburn hair is tied tightly into a bun that gives her a formal air--though just by reading her movements, she is far from it.
Immediately, she strikes up a conversation about Frankish columns.
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Post by Cubonia on Aug 27, 2016 1:08:16 GMT -5
A telegram message arrives in Bataille, from Gaenmor: Our most esteemed Security Administrator and Diplomatic Envoy, Guildmaster Erwanna Argd Masonn, will arrive tonight on a Wennic transport vessel to attend the diplomatic wedding being held at your capital. Accompanying her will be five armed guards from the 1st Homeland Division of our military. We request that she be permitted to have them at her side for safety reasons not directly involving the United Empire of Cubonia or its subjects. May there be glory to both our nations. Later, just hours before the commencement of the ceremony, a plain-looking woman wearing a pitch-black military uniform embellished with several large, shiny medals and a fine, precise golden trim steps off of a ship's platform with effortless stride. With bright eyes and wide grin, in juxtaposition to her firm and unwavering posture, she gleefully surveys the docks, pointing out minute details about the French carpentry or of the various uniforms of those around her to the unnamused guards that follow in her stead. The presence of her wonderment is overt and slightly unsettling to the surrounding folk, who have never seen a diplomat from Ag Wenn, let alone one so startlingly bemused by everything. The guard behind her follow her with extreme precision. Minor cues of displeasure from the diplomat keep them back in line--they obviously fear her to some extent. For a few minutes, Erwanna remained transfixed on the architecture of a particular pillar, remarking upon its beautiful Frankish heritage to her guards. A few other diplomats gave her dirty looks until she resolved to continue into the hall. As The Emperor shooed away a dirty Germanic diplomat, a simple-looking woman no older than 40 took to in front of the pew, her green eyes transfixed on the legendary man. Noticeable in her gaze was a distinct, almost troubling tiredness, the dull gray bags under her eyes accentuated their piercing greeness. Numerous crow's feet vie for space on the outskirts of her eyes. Her auburn hair is tied tightly into a bun that gives her a formal air--though just by reading her movements, she is far from it. Immediately, she strikes up a conversation about Frankish columns. The Hand was leaned into the Emperor's ear whispering business as normal. Rumored to be a bastard son of the former Emperor, The Hand himself was a stocky man and he wore a plain black suit and no Coat of Arms pinned onto the suit. He had choppy yet curly thick black hair and a pair of dark and full brown eyes that seemed to take in everything but gave off a threatening vibe. The Emperors face seemed to be in a slight frown as The Hand whispered in his ear, however that quickly changed as the Ag Wenn Diplomat arrived. The Emperors face changed in an instant, giving the woman a broad and white smile and a greeting, "A pleasure to meet you, my fair lady." while The Hand simply remained silent, raising an eyebrow as the pair attempted to determine where the accent in her french was from. |
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Post by prussio on Aug 27, 2016 1:11:37 GMT -5
The Prussion delegation was small as compared to the grandness of the size of their surroundings and the hustle and bustle of retainers, servants, and courtiers. A small squadron of Prussion Grenadier Riesengarde stood towering above standing at guard, being sworn to protect the Prinzessin and her virtue until her marriage was consumated.
The Prinzessin Eleonore Charlotte von d'Hasse-Hanover of Prussio was a twinkling little doll. At the tender ripe age of 15 she had begun growing into a woman but the glowing innocence of childhood aired around her as compared to her more solemn attenders. She wore a simple dress, as far as a court wedding went, composed completely in varying sheds of white fabric from the corners of the Cubonian realm as to begin to lose her ties to Prussio first by losing her physical items from Prussio. A thick veil with a thin lace outer cover studded with clear jewels and peaels hid her face which had a refined and pale beauty common among Prussion noblewomen with glittering ice blue eyes. Several serious women swarmed about her making sure every seam of her dress was perfect and that not a stitch was in fashions popular in Prussio except for one man who casually coached her through Cubonian etiquette. "Oh, stop pestering me Fritzy you can't be my schoolmaster after I'm married", Eleonore giggled at the man who glared in return. He wore a simple dark grey uniform, a silver sash about his waist and black leather belts and boots with silver fittings tying it all together showing him to be at least a man of minor nobility. However, no one dared questioned his authority except young Eleonore. He was tall and wiry man appearing to be accustomed to horseback and other militant sport, his eyes broke all but the most strong wills, and his voice cracked like lightning animating most people to obey. "Maybe when our father dies you will have need of my wisdom some more young sister, but today is your day", the Cronprinz Wilhelm said before going out to join the chaotic order to see where he could help in the wedding planning.
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Post by The Protecterate of Ag Wenn on Aug 27, 2016 1:22:22 GMT -5
A telegram message arrives in Bataille, from Gaenmor: Our most esteemed Security Administrator and Diplomatic Envoy, Guildmaster Erwanna Argd Masonn, will arrive tonight on a Wennic transport vessel to attend the diplomatic wedding being held at your capital. Accompanying her will be five armed guards from the 1st Homeland Division of our military. We request that she be permitted to have them at her side for safety reasons not directly involving the United Empire of Cubonia or its subjects. May there be glory to both our nations. Later, just hours before the commencement of the ceremony, a plain-looking woman wearing a pitch-black military uniform embellished with several large, shiny medals and a fine, precise golden trim steps off of a ship's platform with effortless stride. With bright eyes and wide grin, in juxtaposition to her firm and unwavering posture, she gleefully surveys the docks, pointing out minute details about the French carpentry or of the various uniforms of those around her to the unnamused guards that follow in her stead. The presence of her wonderment is overt and slightly unsettling to the surrounding folk, who have never seen a diplomat from Ag Wenn, let alone one so startlingly bemused by everything. The guard behind her follow her with extreme precision. Minor cues of displeasure from the diplomat keep them back in line--they obviously fear her to some extent. For a few minutes, Erwanna remained transfixed on the architecture of a particular pillar, remarking upon its beautiful Frankish heritage to her guards. A few other diplomats gave her dirty looks until she resolved to continue into the hall. As The Emperor shooed away a dirty Germanic diplomat, a simple-looking woman no older than 40 took to in front of the pew, her green eyes transfixed on the legendary man. Noticeable in her gaze was a distinct, almost troubling tiredness, the dull gray bags under her eyes accentuated their piercing greeness. Numerous crow's feet vie for space on the outskirts of her eyes. Her auburn hair is tied tightly into a bun that gives her a formal air--though just by reading her movements, she is far from it. Immediately, she strikes up a conversation about Frankish columns. The Hand was leaned into the Emperor's ear whispering business as normal. Rumored to be a bastard son of the former Emperor, The Hand himself was a stocky man and he wore a plain black suit and no Coat of Arms pinned onto the suit. He had choppy yet curly thick black hair and a pair of dark and full brown eyes that seemed to take in everything but gave off a threatening vibe. The Emperors face seemed to be in a slight frown as The Hand whispered in his ear, however that quickly changed as the Ag Wenn Diplomat arrived. The Emperors face changed in an instant, giving the woman a broad and white smile and a greeting, "A pleasure to meet you, my fair lady." while The Hand simply remained silent, raising an eyebrow as the pair attempted to determine where the accent in her french was from. Guildmaster Erwanna's accent is nightmarish. She rolls her r's, does not put the correct accent on words, and pronounces almost all vowels in the way that those of her native tongue--Wennic--would. Despite how downright juvenile her speech appears to be on the outside, one could remove the silly accent and hear perfectly eloquent, practiced French. Her articulation and vocabulary is reminiscent of a native speaker. The lady returns the Emperor's greeting with a fanatic smile. "Oh, I've never been quite so excited. You see, I study the French people and have been desperate to visit this beautiful country for many long years. It is a humbling honor to meet you in person. Your heritage proclaims valor and grace!" She continues to be rather overt with her obsession of the French, almost to the point where it is frustrating to get in a word edgewise. For as long as the Emperor will listen, she rambles on about language and food and architecture and history--she seems to know more about Cubonian history than the Emperor does! "I am quite sorry. I've gotten ahead of myself by kilometers! I suppose it would be best for me to take my seat instead of pestering you, heh. It is wonderful, this diplomatic union, even if the bride is Ger-- Oops, I shouldn't say that. Erm," She appears flustered for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding to slow herself down. "At any rate, I shall be at my seat." You wonder why, of all people, this crazy bitch was chosen to be envoy. |
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Post by Vesnuovania on Aug 27, 2016 1:36:49 GMT -5
The Vesnuovanian delegation was the next to arrive, having pulled up with in one of the newest versions of a black automobile. Three occupants of the vehicle stepped out. The first, an average looking man in a pristine suit. He glanced around the area with a shrewd expression, before stepping out of the way and holding the door open for the next to leave the vehicle.
The second was clearly of royalty, and for anyone interested in world politics - or the politics of Vesnuovania - it was obvious that this was the King's son and presumptive heir, Prince Giovenzio Fiaschetti. He was of course a handsome man, a face to compliment the seemingly bright future of the Kingdom of Vesnuovania. With tall, dignified facial features, well-kept black hair and a nice tan from the Mediterranean weather custom to Vesnuovanian coastline. He flashed a dashing smile upon the venue, visibly excited. He was quick to turn around however, back to the car it seemed. A long, slender hand reached out - covered by a bright white glove, and gently grasped the Prince's hand. Eventually, outstepped the Prince's own wife- or rather, his favorite one to say the least. The Prince's arm locked around hers as they nodded toward their accompanying diplomat, who in turn exchanged words with the driver.
The trio made their way inside, offering polite smiles and greetings to whoever would interact with them.
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Post by Cubonia on Aug 27, 2016 1:38:16 GMT -5
The Hand was leaned into the Emperor's ear whispering business as normal. Rumored to be a bastard son of the former Emperor, The Hand himself was a stocky man and he wore a plain black suit and no Coat of Arms pinned onto the suit. He had choppy yet curly thick black hair and a pair of dark and full brown eyes that seemed to take in everything but gave off a threatening vibe. The Emperors face seemed to be in a slight frown as The Hand whispered in his ear, however that quickly changed as the Ag Wenn Diplomat arrived. The Emperors face changed in an instant, giving the woman a broad and white smile and a greeting, "A pleasure to meet you, my fair lady." while The Hand simply remained silent, raising an eyebrow as the pair attempted to determine where the accent in her french was from. Guildmaster Erwanna's accent is nightmarish. She rolls her r's, does not put the correct accent on words, and pronounces almost all vowels in the way that those of her native tongue--Wennic--would. Despite how downright juvenile her speech appears to be on the outside, one could remove the silly accent and hear perfectly eloquent, practiced French. Her articulation and vocabulary is reminiscent of a native speaker. The lady returns the Emperor's greeting with a fanatic smile. "Oh, I've never been quite so excited. You see, I study the French people and have been desperate to visit this beautiful country for many long years. It is a humbling honor to meet you in person. Your heritage proclaims valor and grace!" She continues to be rather overt with her obsession of the French, almost to the point where it is frustrating to get in a word edgewise. For as long as the Emperor will listen, she rambles on about language and food and architecture and history--she seems to know more about Cubonian history than the Emperor does! "I am quite sorry. I've gotten ahead of myself by kilometers! I suppose it would be best for me to take my seat instead of pestering you, heh. It is wonderful, this diplomatic union, even if the bride is Ger-- Oops, I shouldn't say that. Erm," She appears flustered for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding to slow herself down. "At any rate, I shall be at my seat." You wonder why, of all people, this crazy bitch was chosen to be envoy. At first the trio listened curiously to the woman, however as time passed the amusement seemed to fade. The Hand's classic frown seemed to deepen with each of the eternal paragraphs that seemed to roll from her mouth. The Chief of Finance simply rolled his eyes and leaned against the edge of the pew, tapping his foot impatiently as she went on and on clearly unhappy with how much time this was taking. The Emperor himself however, simply watched the woman with a slight smirk on his face as he heard everything she said without taking his eyes off of her. For him this was a classic day at court, however the woman's energy and knowledge seemed to energize him to some degree. He leaned back, relaxing himself some "I'm glad to see a friend of the Nation in our court on such a day!" the Emperor replied, continuing. "Please speak to me after, I'd love to engage you on your thoughts of the Council of Avignon." Letting her finish, he gave her a polite nod of dismissal, leaning in to The Hands ear and whispering, "What a delightful woman." yet received only a grunt in reply. |
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Post by prussio on Aug 27, 2016 1:47:49 GMT -5
The Cronprinz Wilhelm strode to the Emperor sketching a quick bow before saying, "Your soon to be is almost finished after our Father's used up conc..., I mean attendants to the Prinzessin decide they don't need to deprive the empire of paint, Emperor Phillipe."
He took a moment observing the others in the room, regarding the Wennic diplomat with a small smile before bringing his attention back to the Emperor. "If I may assist in anyway please let it be known so that I may be of some use", he said his gaze shifting quickly to the Hands as he finished the statement.
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Post by The Protecterate of Ag Wenn on Aug 27, 2016 1:53:44 GMT -5
The Wennic Erwanna's face nearly twisted as the Germanic Cronprinz Wilhelm approached. Historically, things were not good between the two races of people, yet the stout diplomat responded with a handshake.
"I shan't allow our history to cloud the festivities, nor my respect for you on this night. You are the prince, yes? What a title. It's been a long time since we at the Protectorate had princes. How interesting it is that your people have kept the medieval class systems. I sure wish I could be a princess," She ended with a little chuckle. She extends an offering for a handshake, obviously fighting an ingrained hatred--you sense slight anxiety in her movements.
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Post by Cubonia on Aug 27, 2016 1:54:22 GMT -5
The Cronprinz Wilhelm strode to the Emperor sketching a quick bow before saying, "Your soon to be is almost finished after our Father's used up conc..., I mean attendants to the Prinzessin decided they don't need to deprive this kingdom of paint, Emperor Phillipe." He took a moment observing the others in the room, regarding the Wennic diplomat with a small smile before bringing his attention back to the Emperor. "If I may assist in anyway please let it be known so that I may be of some use", he said his gaze shifting quickly to the Hands as he finished the statement. The Emperor responded to the man with a stern nod, "It is our pleasure to host one of your prestige, Cronprinz. It is also good to hear that my betrothed will now be my wife so I can offer a legitimate heir to the realm." The Hand meanwhile simply stared dead into the Cronprinz's eyes, refusing to break contact. His dark brown eyes showing no sign of emotion or weakness and cared little for the formality of making stern eye contact with the Prussion Noble. The Emperor noticed this quickly, watching the pair with a look of amusement. |
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Post by prussio on Aug 27, 2016 2:04:44 GMT -5
The Cronprinz cooly stared back at the man imagining the tortures of Prussio and how long each would take to break him, to hear him scream, to beg for death like it was the greatest mercy, but Wilhelm wouldn't he would continue to watch with the same wolf smile he began to wear now.
"Yes, instead of throwing away tradition and culture away like a child whose butterscotch was in the sun a bit too long, still good and fixable but you can't comprehend how to use it", Wilhelm said cooly to the Wellic before taking her hand and lightly kissing it in a fluid motion without breaking eye contact with the hand. "Yes, let's keep this entertaining", he said with a laugh.
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Post by Vesnuovania on Aug 27, 2016 2:05:24 GMT -5
The Vesnuovanian delegation seemed to enjoy spending it's time taking in the marvelous architecture and design of the palace, having been obviously mesmerized by such beauty. The Prince enthusiastically exchanging words with the accompanying Vesnuovanian diplomat. The diplomat looked at the Prince with a scolding expression, nodding in a gesture toward the grouping of Cubonians and Prussios. The Prince was quick to offer an apologetic nod, and with a warming smile on his face he trodded over to the grouping with his princess still on his arm. Once they approached, they firstly nodded toward the Cubonian Emperor, greeting him with a 'hello' in Italian, before adding in, "Or as they say in this wonderful country, bonjour." the Prince offered his free hand for a handshake to the Emperor. "My father sends his apologies that he couldn't attend."
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Post by The Protecterate of Ag Wenn on Aug 27, 2016 2:12:41 GMT -5
The Cronprinz cooly stared back at the man imagining the tortures of Prussio and how long each would take to break him, to hear him scream, to beg for death like it was the greatest mercy, but Wilhelm wouldn't he would continue to watch with the same wolf smile he began to wear now. "Yes, you people throw tradition and culture away like a child whose butterscotch was in the sun a bit too long, still good and fixable but you can't comprehend how to use it", Wilhelm said cooly to the Wellic before taking her hand and lightly kissing it in a fluid motion without breaking eye contact with the hand. "Yes, let's keep this entertaining", he said with a laugh. Guildmaster Erwanna's eye twitches visibly as the man's lips make contact with her. She returns it to her side with military quickness when he has had his way, grimacing slightly before smiling disingenuously. "Well, at least our mushy butterscotch treats women as equals. I wished to shake your hand, Sir Prince." Her grin becomes a tad more genuine. She's enjoying herself. "Alas, you have made things interesting. I appreciate your wit." She says happily. |
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Post by Cubonia on Aug 27, 2016 2:13:22 GMT -5
The Cronprinz cooly stared back at the man imagining the tortures of Prussio and how long each would take to break him, to hear him scream, to beg for death like it was the greatest mercy, but Wilhelm wouldn't he would continue to watch with the same wolf smile he began to wear now. "Yes, you people throw tradition and culture away like a child whose butterscotch was in the sun a bit too long, still good and fixable but you can't comprehend how to use it", Wilhelm said cooly to the Wellic before taking her hand and lightly kissing it in a fluid motion without breaking eye contact with the hand. "Yes, let's keep this entertaining", he said with a laugh. The Emperor simply raised an eyebrow at the mans comments to the woman however seemed to have distaste when the Wennish diplomat spoke of women, saying nothing as he turned his attention to the approaching Italian man. Meanwhile the hand continued to stare, his classic frown turning into a barely noticeable smirk as he stared at the man. The Hands brown eyes seemed unphased by the mans comments and stare. He was pleased with the man, as few men could hold his stare for this long and he had finally met a worthy challenger. |
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Post by Cubonia on Aug 27, 2016 2:16:47 GMT -5
The Vesnuovanian delegation seemed to enjoy spending it's time taking in the marvelous architecture and design of the palace, having been obviously mesmerized by such beauty. The Prince enthusiastically exchanging words with the accompanying Vesnuovanian diplomat. The diplomat looked at the Prince with a scolding expression, nodding in a gesture toward the grouping of Cubonians and Prussios. The Prince was quick to offer an apologetic nod, and with a warming smile on his face he trodded over to the grouping with his princess still on his arm. Once they approached, they firstly nodded toward the Cubonian Emperor, greeting him with a 'hello' in Italian, before adding in, "Or as they say in this wonderful country, bonjour." the Prince offered his free hand for a handshake to the Emperor. "My father sends his apologies that he couldn't attend." The Cubonian stands, offering this man a warm smile out of proper rapport and taking his hand into a powerful and firm handshake, "And it is a pleasure to have you here regardless! I hear your father has recently caught a bought of sickness, what ales the good man?" he asked in a friendly tone, his bright and sharp blue eyes not breaking eye contact with the man as he spoke. |
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