Jig

New Dawn Rising

In surprise news, a double-post from me!

I wanted to get in on the Brazilian action before it ran away from me.

_{Which, once again, sounds filthier than intended}

New Dawn Rising

_{The Keizer’s Residence: Galgoria, Western Jodesia}

The chamber was a vast, circular room, around whose periphery ran a stone colonnade, intricate designs carved into the hefty rock. Where other nations’ artistic histories would perhaps have led to imposing grotesques and gargoyles, the Jodesian Rijkdom had never been one for effigies or caricatures; while portraits of the Jodan dynasty and secondary respected families did now proliferate across the small empire, they, Agata knew, were inherently modern, and frequently backdated. She and the Keizer were both painfully aware that the beige landscape in Jodesia was figurative as well as literal, and his policy of which she most approved was refracting the jewel of the Westerijk across the Atlantic and into Jodesia, to build, if belatedly, a heritage befitting a modern nation based on more than just the diversion of water.

This was, of course, difficult to accomplish without giving the impression that Jodesian culture could in any way be improved by any other process than the refinement of what was already there, and therefore it was no surprise that the comparatively laconic chamber of the Rijksraad, an echoing bunker of a hall beneath the Keizer’s living quarters, had not yet been touched by that ray of verve and colour. Comparable architecture in the Westerijk, built far more recently than the heart of Galgoria, took on many modern and American influences from its neighbours, while maintaining the strong spirit of home. Although Jodesia had some way to go, some modernity had nevertheless crept in: Keizer Maximor III was the a thoroughly modern ruler, at home on his throne in military regalia, far-evolved from the crownèd kings that once held court with sceptres and ermine, even on the same throne. Even now, he was reading and re-reading the letter from the Regentes of the Westerijk, only periodically glancing up at the assembled council.

“The Rijksraad is in session,” announced the Keizer, to Agata’s left, as the last attending member of the Rijksraad took their own, less grand, seat. The thirty seats of the Rijksraad, including the Keizer’s throne, were arranged radially, a quaint tradition that once indicated that each member of the council had a voice equal to that of the Keizer, rather than a supporting role in the overall chorus. Of course, the most important seats were occupied by various members of the Jodan family and only just fewer than half had at least some blood connection to the Keizer to speak of.

“I’m sure you have all heard the news,” the Keizer looked around at the assembly, “That Nationalist Brazil has struck our ally, the North American Union, in an attack of unprecedented cowardliness. Even as we speak, fellow peaceful nations around the world mourn the NAU’s loss, and we mourn with her. I have already sent a missive on the behalf of the whole of the Jodesian Rijkdom to express our sorrow and our support.”

“Hear, hear,” came the discordant voices from around the chamber.

“It is worth reminding ourselves at this time, particularly those of us with our feet firmly on our home soil, that the Westerijk is not just the neighbour of the North American Union, but her friend, and were the Westerijk not happily under our stewardship, it would happily be under theirs. One of Keizerin Marmora’s finest accomplishments,” there was a murmuring of unclear but respectful utterances at the mention of her name, “Was to maintain the peace of the Westerijk following its contested allegiance such that it could flourish to both nations’ benefit, and that the Jodesian Rijkdom and the North American Union reached a peaceable solution is a shared heritage of which we must all be proud.

“Therefore, it is my considered opinion that the Jodesian Rijkdom must not merely be the NAU’s friend in her time of grief, but her staunch and loyal ally in however it is that she chooses to mend her wounds and ensure,” the Keizer stroked his thick, dark, beard, giving his words due consideration, “That further acts of aggression are sufficiently discouraged.”

“Would this support extend to the deployment of military aid, Your Highness?” asked Raadslied Jeron, uncertainly.

“If that is what is required, then the answer will be yes.”

There was a pause, and his words gave way to a moment’s silence. The Jodesian Rijkdom had not deployed troops in almost two decades.

Raadslied Jeron, to his credit, respectfully persisted; “What of the Treaty of New Vaduz, Your Highness?”

“May I, Keizer Maximor?” Agata lightly raised her forearm off the arm of her chair, the languidity of the motion giving way at the wrist, her first finger pointing directly upwards, with the others tightly restrained by a powerful thumb to gently, but firmly, draw attention to herself. The Keizer nodded, “The Treaty of New Vaduz simply does not apply to the Westerijk. The Westerijk follows Jodesia’s policy of military minimalism only for the sake of the … sensibilities of our European neighbours. This does not mean it is bound by the same terms, nor do those terms apply to the non-military, purely domestic Rijksguard.”

“What do you have to say to this, Jeron?” asked the Keizer, with all the grace of King Solomon and the steely gaze of a prosecutor.

“With all respect to Raadslied Agata, I am simply suggesting that much caution is due.”

“With mutual respect, Raadslied Jeron,” said Agata, without awaiting the Keizer’s permission to speak, “The implication that his Highness may act rashly speaks little of your trust our nation’s leader. The Westerijk has the resources, the reason, and, insofar as we should respect that Treaty, the justification. We cannot abandon our allies on one side of the Atlantic at the beck and call of a twenty year-old piece of paper imposed on us on this side. Quite the opposite: perhaps now is the time to prove on the global stage that Jodesia is an outward-looking, modern nation that deserves respect.”

“Deserves, Agata - not demands.”

Raadslied Jeron looked surprised by his own words as every head around the circle turned to face him. With a voice like bottled thunder, the Keizer asked whether anybody else had any reservations, which, it appeared, they did not.

---

“Agata.”

The Keizer reached out and touched his sister’s arm as she made to leave the chamber. The other members of the council had already filed out, having given their consent in so far as their consent was relevant.

“Thank you for your support.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Agata knew there was more to come.
“In order to best offer my support to King Theodore, I have decided to travel to the Westerijk. From there, I can also best supervise whatever support it is that we can offer the Union. I hope this doesn’t… put your nose out of joint.”
“If that is what you think is for the best, brother. This is about Jodesia and her allies, after all.”
“It is.”

Even as they wound their way back upstairs from the council chamber, Agata could not help wonder whether her brother had Jodesia or her allies in mind at all, or whether she might have been better to throw that letter into the sea.

New Dawn Rising

_{The Keizer’s Residence: Galgoria, Western Jodesia}

There was a flicker of tension, and then an embrace. It was close. Agata gripped her brother tightly, with one arm over his shoulder and the other around his torso, as Kezier Maximor III did the same. They stood, bodies pressed together, for a few moments, their tall, well-built bodies, imposing in most contexts, dwarfed by the Keizer’s Residence at the heart of Galgoria. The Galgorian Channel, which exploded into an intricate network of smaller canals around the city itself, followed all the way to the palace’s entrance, if you were to trace it on a map. Needless to say, Krijgsguard-manned checkpoints prevented anybody from simply sailing up to the throne, but the symbolism was clear: the Keizer was the heart of the city, which was itself the heart of the Jodesian Rijkdom. The notion that all roads might lead to Rome had died long before a Jodesian could proudly scoff at it.

“How was your journey?” asked the Keizer, as the two made their way up the grand steps to the entrance hall.
“Wet,” Agata turned her palm up to the sky, and narrowed her eyes, “If it begins to rain, I will get back on that boat this instant.”
“Then we must hurry inside.”

The Keizer reached out an open, meaty hand to the top of her back and gently applied pressure. Out of spite, she stalled for a moment. The Keizer was her brother, and she loved the man as both, but she had not been off the canal sprinter for more than five minutes before she had been reminded of the other great reason that was happier in the Westerijk.

---

The Keizer had had the kitchens lay on an informal dinner - just the two of them, and the practically invisible staff. By now, they had retired to the drawing room, where each puffed on heady, thick cigars, which Agata had brought with her as a souvenir. She had not bothered with formal gifts; the notion of bringing an emperor a gift from within his own dominion seemed superfluous at best and insulting at worst.

“And how is the Regentes?” asked the Keizer, casually.

The brother and sister each released a vast cloud of smoke through which they locked eyes. Agata reached into her breast pocket for the letter and handed it across the lounge to him. She had wondered how long it would take him to ask, and now carefully observed his fingers as he pried the rich envelope open and ruptured the waxy seal. For the next few minutes, he sat in the drawing room and read. Agata sipped her brandy as patiently as she could muster.

Jodesian names were tenacious. Agata was named for Agator II, her great uncle and former Keizer. The city in which she now found herself was named for the Keizer that founded it. When the siblings’ mother, one of the few female Keizers, had passed away, there came an influx of newborns called Marmora for her, or Maximor for her successor, as the namesakes took on a sudden popular relevance through absence and novelty respectively. And now, Keizer Maximor III, with a grand portrait of himself visible behind his wingback chair, was reading a letter from Regentes Maximor-Alfona, who had taken on his name in addition to her own following her appointment.

He finished reading, his face not betraying a hint of emotion, and returned the letter to its envelope - just as there came a knocking at the door.

“Come!”
“I apologise to interrupt, Your Highness,” a member of the Keizer’s personal staff entered the room, scrutinised from two angles by hard eyes through the haze, “The North American Union has been attacked.”

There was a pause, in which the Keizer and his sister looked at one another.

“Have you summoned the Rijksraad?”
“They are coming as we speak.”

Hardly Divine: Decadence

OoC

@Stairdweller@Zoldyck@Turboshitter@Tarquin@Dead Cruiser@Wicker@ravenDivinity

Hardly Divine: Decadence

I threw up an OoC, but it was my birthday this weekend so I've been a staggering drunk and apparently forgot to give youse the heads-up. I'll dig it out from the mountain of spam that has exploded all over the Advanced pages and stick it here. :)

_oopsie

New Dawn Rising

@Nerevarine
I wasn't even gonna use placeholder text. I think my writing style is typically framed from one person's perspective, who'd typically only have one language to work with. Therefore direct speech would be either the commonly-understood language or narrated as foreign gibberish.

New Dawn Rising

@Jig Haven't thought much of it, but yes, English is still spoken as well as both old and new languages, depends what players prefer.

@Sigma

Heh, as a linguist, I wanna be all like Oh Hell No Language Doesn't Work Like That, but, in the spirit of 'making up science as the plot demands', I guess I don't get to be all 'but language is a consistently evolving phenomenon and even regional variants of English are almost mutually unintelligible and that's before we even start with the (by definition) mutually unintelligible dialects'.

Either way, I'm probably gonna set a language (not called Jodesian because sweet jesus am I bored with that set of letters) for Jodesia so I can emphasise how people in the Westerijk have adapted to the most common language, which I'm assuming will be English. Since (@Monkeypants) I guess the NAU is the Westerijk's biggest buddy, are you speaking English over there or something else? I'm guessing it's not godmodding to use an integrated NAU expat in the Westerijk for a post? (If you don't want me to, obviously let me know)

New Dawn Rising

Question: what are we doing for languages for this? Like, it's not likely that every person from every nation speaks the same language, and while I'm not expecting us to write gobbledegook for direct speech then narrate translations, it does seem reasonable in the IC to acknowledge the different languages. Does anybody still speak English, for example? In my head, Jodesia is very much based off the Netherlands and Germany, so their language would be a fusion of the two, but this might be something to think about?

@Monkeypants
Looks like we got a major South American Power, how'd you think the NAU will see the NRB?

@Sigma

Judging by the IC: Om nom nom nom nom

New Dawn Rising

He, in turn, wished her a good rest and asked if she was pleased to return to Jodesia, to which her reply consisted of just one syllable,

"sex"

@Monkeypants

My god why is that everything I write is (mis)interpreted as utter filth. :P

New Dawn Rising

Actually posted. Boom.