ARCHIVED: IC: The Auburn Festival

A man with green-tinted skin rushed past the mourners and workers who'd bothered to come to the Kray Tower's Auburn Festival at such an early hour, 7AM. His hair was a light grey that was nearing a white and his eyes were entirely black, around his eyes was a small spiraling sun-like pattern that appeared to be part of his skin which seemed to match the flame-like pattern that started at his wrists and led onto his hands, which came off of his solely black arms which weren't visible beneath the dress suit he wore. He held a large collection of blue, green and black folders to his chest as he continued to rush to Lara kray, who seemed to be standing on a small stage in front of the Mirror Stone, he could see he thin, blonde hair blowing in the small breeze as she relentlessly fiddled with a microphone and refusing any help offered to her. It was clear she was nervous, she always refused help when she was nervous but he knew that many would be anxious, terrified almost, of holding such an event and speaking to thousands and few.

He'd reached Lara and began to sit on the surface of the stage, ignoring the people around, and placed the folders into a semi-circle shape in the front of him.
"This is everything we know on them, I'll look for things we could use to keep them satisfied with today." The man said in a gleeful voice.
"Come on Ulurq, I think you're taking this a little too far" Lara replied, putting her fingers together to gesture the 'little' whilst turning away from the microphone and leaning over to kiss him on the forehead whilst he stared at one of the folders, she thought at least since it was difficult to see due to his black eyes. Lara began to move herself to the floor to sit with Ulurq, she then placed her hands on his shoulder and placed her head on them and leaning her body on him.
"The lovey-dovey couple. Adorable" Chester said as he approached from behind and leaned over the folders, pointing at some specific things that he wanted to note out to Ulurq.
"Fuck off to the ministryyyyy-" Lara lazily blurted out at him as she closed her eyes and moved her face into Ulurq's shoulder.
"Rude. The guests will be here in a few hours and we need someone whose diplomacy-competent." Chester replied.

---

Meanwhile, at the front of the Kray Towers Green where the large, iron graves stood for the soldiers who were killed during the Mad Queen's actions and the Battle of Karandin, a middle-aged woman stood over one of the graves marked as 'GRAVE #2833 - Markkus Anworth'. He was her son who'd been forced out to war by the Mad Queen, he was killed by the Syrixians in Rhuvanland and she had accepted why they did so. Tears began to stream from her red, strained eyes as she fell to her knees, with more force than two cars colliding, and threw her head into her legs as he hands unclenched and a small, singular white rose fell out of her hand onto the dirt that marked where his body supposedly was. She couldn't bare her one and only child she'd ever had and the only one she'd ever be able to have, due to complications with her body. Her heart pounded harder and harder and he stomach began to hurt whilst she continued to allow her face to be drenched in the water of sorrow which had culminated from her eyes.

The jet arced through the sky.
"So what sort of things will happen at this ...festival?" asked Malachit.
"Oh, you know, the usual," replied Antlerio distractedly. "Lots of speeches, some gift-giving, etc."
"Do you think they'll let me speak?" Malachit said, grinning.
Antlerio snorted. "I seriously doubt it."
"I've handled the gifts."
"Good."
"Some are a bit unorthodox."
"Good."
The pilot's voice sounded over the intercom. "Gentlemen, we are preparing to land."

While the Nebulan jet began its descent, the Xentheridan one, carrying Adam Reitano, Fateen Yasir, Christian III and other members of the Royal Family, plus other high-ranking officials in the Xentheridan government, was only just beginning to take off. The Gulfstream 650ER was on the runway of the Blackwater City Airport, having just received permission to take off.

After a minute of taxiing, and having all safety announcements completed, it sat on the edge of the take-off runway. The engines of the jet fired up to maximum power, and the pilot released the handbrake. The jet shot off the runway, and quickly ascended off the ground. Once at the appropriate height, it turned and headed for its intended destination: Cronaal.

The flight was to take just over five hours; plenty of time to converse with others and think about the upcoming event. Everything had been organised, and gifts had been arranged. The group were to first visit the graves and pay their respects, and then talk to those who had survived the war. Then, should there be time, a speech, and finally spend the rest of the time talking to others from foreign nations.

The Syrixian Star had just landed in Ganjarius and the motorcade had just driven off to the Kray Towers. In the main car were Alfred Nursson, John Sirus, Shaw Atlas, and Auel Vist. Vist in particular noticed the shining city that was originally just a plan in an X-Net message between him and Chester Kray. The city they both dreamed to create had come to life. Under the Provincial State, this was but a small town. Under the United States, this was now a great city, with tall buildings and a bustling population. It had grown, as was envisioned, to become the largest city in the USC. Vist was in awe. But, this awe was not to last, as the motorcade was about to arrive at the Kray Towers, which were in visual range.

The old man wore a thin mustache on his wrinkled face, olive colored like his forefathers. His head rested back on the sofa. Eyes were half shut and the mouth hung wide open, drooling slightly. In his hand he gripped the book he was reading, an illuminating but dense work called Jenseits von Gut . As he advanced in age he found his body and his mind growing tired, and in need of more rest. No longer could he study deep into the night. He was still fairly youthful for his age, as he still walked on his own two feet. But he would need more rest. The most pleasant thing for him was to wake up with a book in his hand, finding that he had dozed off while studying...

"Franz!"

The old man did not stir. If a name is called and no one is there to hear it, is a person still being called on?

"Franz!" came the voice again from the next room, this time louder. Franz stayed unmoving.

"Franz!" At last a little old lady hobbled into the room. She was about the same age, wrinkle faced and gray haired. Her furrows deepened as her frown as she slowly walked over to the sofa. She crouched, her mouth inches from the old man's ear.

"FRANZ!!"

Franz jumped in his sofa, eyes wide open. The book fell from his lap as he head spun around. "What, you old hag, what?!"

With this the old lady gave a smug look and turned. She began hobbling back to the kitchen. "Did you pack our things, Franz?"

"WHAT?"

"Did you pack for Cronaal, dear?"

"WHAT?"

"For f*ck's sake, Franz, did you leave your hearing aids off again?!"

"I can't f*cking hear you, give me my hearing aids!"

"Get them yourself, old man!"

"WHAT?"

Inside the Charles Palace throne room, Leah Charles, wearing an iconic blue dress and the Guslant crown sat on her throne. Alicia stood to the right of the throne, holding a tablet in her arms. Abigail, wearing a beautiful purple dress, was standing in front of the throne with Debra and Akerman. Three black necklace boxes sat to the left of Alicia, and Charles was wearing a gold medallion in the shape of a raindrop, with a sapphire orb in the center of the medallion. "I have personally selected each of you for a certain reason, some more clear than others, obviously. I have had these crafted to perfection for Minister Vist, Prime Minister Kray, and Emperator Emeritus Malachit. Make sure these are delivered promptly and do not disappoint. I will be lending the Fleur for your convenience. Alicia has installed a prototype version of Amica onto my craft, so yes, you will get to hear a female Ayuda in action," said Charles. "I will not fail you, Ms. Charles, I will be quizzing Emily on the way on Cronaali affairs, she will be able to recite all the diplomats' names by the time we reach Cronaal," replied Abigail. "You're pushing it," grumbled Akerman. "Ugh, I can't work with her," whined Leopard. "Come on, both of you please cooperate for the sake of our highness," said Baldwin. He arrived just seconds before stating this, and usually was fashionably late. "Now, are we going to Cronaal or not?", he asked. "He's right, Leah, we must be going," stated Abigail. "Don't forget the medallions mother...," began Alicia before pausing, "I mean Governor Nowe and I made for the guests," she continued before smiling awkwardly and put down the tablet to pick up the boxes. "Baldwin will hold them," said Debra, crossing her arms as though she was telling Alicia she didn't want to hold them. Baldwin shrugged and took the boxes from Alicia. "Farewell, and good luck," said Alicia, taking her spot again beside her friend. "May the elements be with you," said Charles as the four left the throne room.

Outside, they boarded the Fleur, a blue helicopter and it began to take off. Four black escort helicopters took off after the Fleur and they were soon off to Cronaal. Mid-flight, the lights in the helicopter dimmed and a double-sided screen came down from the roof to show all of the delegates a view of the Kray Towers. "Good afternoon Guslants. My name is Amica, the Advanced Monitoring and Intelligence Control Assistant, here to inform you of all protocol related to your representation of Guslantis at the Auburn Festival. For some, this will be a review, for some this will be new information. Regardless, please pay close attention to this short video," said a female voice over the intercom as the video began. It lasted almost the entire flight.

Meanwhile the Nebulan plane prepared for landing, the Seblandian jet got ready for take off. Zertan walked up into the jet. On the last stair he turned around, took a deep breath and said. "What a beautiful day! He said it with a big smile on his face. "It's a shame that I have to be stuck in this aircraft for twelve hours." His joy turned into sorrow. "I hope it will be sunny in Cronaal aswell." He said cheerfully again. He turned around and got in the jet. His bodyguard took off his black tinted sunglasses, to show respect towards the king and asked.
"Hello your Magesty, how are you today may I ask?"
"Helllo Jack, I'm good, how are you?"
"I am good aswell. Your seat is over there, your magesty." He pointed at a very comfortable seat.
"Thank you Jack."
Zertan sat down. The chair had a built in massage machine to release stress. There was his favorite Seblandian cocktail on a table in front of him. He took a sip and leaned back. The door closed and the jet took off. The pilot spoke through the intercom.
"Hello your Magesty, this is your pilot speaking, I just want to say that we will be in Cronaal in approximately twelve hours. I hope you will enjoy your flight."
The jet flew through a lot of different countries, before it landed in Cronaal. It was a long flight.

The two men disembarked from the aircraft at a nearby airport. A private car awaited them. They took it into the city. Both men carried special cases containing the gifts, to be given to the dignitaries.

The Khan's jet slowly came to a halt at the runway, Sera slowly got to her feet before her bodyguard fussed over her uniform "Shera! Stop it will you!" she sighed, Shera Goltah shook her head "Sera, you're representing the Khanate at a very sensitive diplomatic occasion..." "Yes, and I know how to dress myself!" the acting Khan glared, finally fending off Shera from fussing with her top button, in the corner a roaring laugh could be heard from Elder Garvin "Good lord Shera you know full well she's as stubborn as Sebt if not more so..." the imposing bear-like elder smiled under his bountiful beard. Shera rolled her eyes as they finally finished their preperations to disembark, finding one of the medical corps Battledancer troop carrier waiting to carry them to Kray Towers while a second carried a contingent of the white-armoured Templars, carrying an ebony box with them, the box was small enough to be carried under one arm but it's contents were something very rarely allowed to leave Wolfsea.

After a long flight, the Xentheridan jet was finally over Cronaal. The pilot expertly manoeuvred the plane towards the runway, and then landed smoothly. Using the remaining momentum, the jet shifted towards the terminal. Once it stopped, stairs were quickly moved to the plane door, and after the door was unlocked and opened, the group descended the stairs and clambered into a fleet of black, armoured limousines with tinted windows. After the luggage - including the numerous gifts and bouquets of flowers - was loaded into the back of each limo, and the occasional delivery lorry, the convoy set off for Ganjarius.

While some of the Xentheridans were excited to visit the beautiful, new city of Ganjarius and the gleaming Kray Towers, most were solemn at the upcoming event; the commemoration of those who died in the Great War, especially those who died due to the Mad Queen's actions.

On the other side of the airport, a pair of Sadakhan twin-rotor VTOL aircraft descended, discharging a dozen personnel; a few in tastefully minimalist suits but most in light blue or white jumpsuits. They appeared to be medical staff, because they carried a variety of cases marked with red crosses and two of them were fussing over the most distinctive member of the group, a young girl in an elaborate wheelchair with her head supported by a brace.

Isabella, or Bella as her husband called her, was a typical little old lady. Makeup could no longer hide her wrinkles so she wore them proudly as a sign of her great age. In Kannex, a woman who made it in life could never be criticized for being too old, especially if she was the Empress. Her hair was a bush of curly white hair that sat snugly on top of the old woman's head. Her storm-cloud eyes twinkled as she stared admiringly at the Kannexan teenager who sat across from the old couple. "What a lovely granddaughter we have," she remarked out of the blue, turning to her husband.

"Hm? Ja, natürlich." Franz's attention, meanwhile, was split between the Kannexan papers in his hands and the open blue sky outside the airplane window. He was getting impatient. Bella thought that perhaps Franz had read some anxious little tidbit about the falling stocks or the energy crisis, but in actuality the Manhatt Tigers had lost yet another game and didn't seem like they would reach the finals. Franz's gray hair sprouted from his balding head like wild grass. Earlier his servant had combed it over. Now the gray grass looked nicely flattened in one direction, like a flattened field.

Empress Bella turned back to the young girl, a sixteen year old with lush chestnut-brown hair and freckles and also, at the moment, a forced toothy smile. On her lap was a white-cased smartphone hooked up to a charger. "How's your English, dear? Have they taught you well?" Bella asked sweetly.

"Ja... Zey hav toht me vwell. Grossmutter," the girl replied with a hesitant mixture of German and English.

"Grandmother," Grossmutter Bella corrected.

"Oh, leave the girl alone," Franz remarked. "I didn't learn French until I was an adult."

"But French is praktisch a dead language! English is what our allies all speak," Bella answered, lips pouting.

"Tu veux dire, nos ennemis."

Sera turned to look back at the Templar vehicle, noticeably nervous about having them around. While still under her command the Templars were not exactly the most tactful of Wolfsea's warriors. The priest that accompanied them, Captain Olieg, like many of the priests was a likeable man but the silent Templars gave off a distinctly heavy atmosphere that she didn't particularly like. Shera could see the discomfort on the acting Khan's face, a contrast to her usual bubbly self that was barely contained behind her stern "business" persona she had had to adopt while standing in for Sebt, she hoped nobody would ask any awkward questions about Sebt's absence.

The two men disembarked from the car. With a dismissive gesture from Antlerio, the security guards dispersed into the gathering crowd. Both men clutched their cases.

At the same time, the Syrixian delegation disembarked from their car. Heading straight toward the Kray Towers with their guards, they noticed Antlerio. Antlerio was a glimmer of hope for relations with Nebula, but with him was his predecessor. Someone who could screw all that up. The Emperator Emeritus, Azurus Malachit. Of all the people they wanted to see, Malachit was just over yonder. Nursson especially was, well, one wouldn't call it nervous, but one wouldn't call it angry either. He felt a feeling that lay somewhere in between, with about half nervousness and half anger. Why wouldn't he? He had led his country and the Blue Bloc of democracy against Nebula's expansionist aims.

Now, the two men who embodied the two opposing forces in a series of quickly successive wars collectively known as the Great War were within possible visual range of each other. They had briefly teamed up to rescue Syrixian hostages in Añola, but for the most part they were old adversaries. Old Alfred Nursson knew, just as the rest of his compatriots did, that with Malachit around things would get a bit awkward. "You all." Nursson whispered to the rest of the Syrixian delegation. "Focus on talking to Antlerio, but do not make it look like you're avoiding Malachit. All of us will have to talk to Malachit for a bit, but don't worry." The rest of them nodded worrily, but soundly.

They then continued to walk toward the Kray Towers.

As Guðjónsson slowly taxied the small jet into its designated hanger, he could see the rental car he hired pull up in his peripherals. He lowered the stairs and started walking down when a short Cronaali man came up to him.

"May I speak to the pilot of this plane?" He asked from below his bushy mustache.

"You are." Guðjónsson replied with the slightest bit of humour.

"No, the pilot of the plane." The man replied, trying his best to be polite.

"I am the pilot of this plane." He replied matter-of-factly.

"Can I speak to the person who flew the plane?" Asked the man, clearly getting irritated.

Guðjónsson simply looks down and shook his head. "Sumir fólk..."

Lara could see both Nursson and Malachit, she was ecstatic for their arrivals and squealed a little in front of Ulurq, who proceeded to pick her up off the stage in front of the Mirror Stone and place her onto the Mound so she could run over to the Syrixian and Nebulan delegates. She precariously slid off of the Mound and speed-walked over to the path before escalating into a slight run towards the delegates were were near eachother on the path approaching the towers. Her glasses were a little displaced from her 'run' by the time she'd reached the two groups and she looked more like an older teenager than a woman in her mid-twenties and was much shorter than Nursson and Malachit, two fully grown men who were middle-aged or elderly. Her white teeth could be seen between her red lips as she smiled at the two with a clipboard hugged to her chest as she waited for them to take note of her.
"Hello!" She said with an incredibly positive tone.

Nursson was the first to respond. "Good morning, Ms. Kray!" he cheerfully said before customarily nodding his head down once, as all Syrixians did when they said hello at formal events. He then proceeded to outstretch his hand for a kind handshake.

"Achtung! Meine Dame und Herren, Seine Majestät Kaiser Franz vom Kannexischen Reich!"

The trumpets burst into a hearty tune as from the darkness of the airplane side door emerged the old Emperor, waving to the crowd as he descended the stairs, followed by the Empress and their granddaughter. The Kannexan honor guard in their smooth blue uniforms with red sashes gripped rifles closed to their chests. They stood in two lines on either side of the red carpet on which the imperial family tread, holding back the crowd. The crowd of Kannexan patriots cheered and broke into chorus, following the tune:


"Majestät." A bald, bulky middle-aged man in a blue dress uniform and a beret saluted before the Kaiser. "Ich bin General David Leijon, Befehlshaber des Kronaal-Kommandos. Willkommen nach Kronaal, mein Herr, meine Dame!"

The Kaiser smiled, shook the general's hand, and continued into the terminal next to the General Leijon. Isabella followed close behind, waving to the crowd with one gloved hand and holding her purse with the other. Elsa tried to follow suit, but held nowhere the confidence of her grandmother. Eventually the imperials reached indoors and were driven towards to the capital center...

By comparison Sera's arrival was decidedly muted as she, Garvin and Shera got out of the Battledancer, still very self-concious they might mistake her for some bimbo playing dress up as a soldier. She was glad to have her imposing looking grandfather with her, meanwhile the highly conspicuous Templars disembarked, carrying the precious casket. Sera approached, eager to be greeted.

The leader of the Sadakoyama delegation, Clemence Woodcroft, pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes, and shook her head until the barbaric pomp and pageantry of the Kannexian arrival ceased. Such disgraceful self aggrandizement, she thought. Are they actually proud of themselves for causing millions of deaths?

Directly ahead of her group was the Wolfsea party. The small but powerful nation was their closest neighbor by physical proximity, and a signatory to the new Neutrality Treaty; for the Sadakhan that was as good as friendship. Nevertheless, they were accompanied by stern looking soldiers in distinctive uniforms as well. The only one that looked out of place was a young woman, wearing a uniform she did not seem to be comfortable in, standing near to the distinguished and dignified older man she presumed to be the leader.

In the mean time, the Xentheridan convoy had finally reached Ganjarius, and many Xentheridans were gazing at the shining Kray Towers and festival at their base. The two limousines stopped close to the towers, and those inside exited the vehicle. Adam Reitano, Christian III and his wife Queen Mia, along with their 14-year-old daughter Elizabeth, and finally Christopher Williams departed the first limo, accompanied by two relaxed, plain-clothed security members. From the second limo, a few helpers departed, along with half a dozen more MPs.

The King wore a white suit with a grey jacket on top, along with jeans. While his dark hair had the occasional grey strand, he looked surprisingly young and relaxed. His brown eyes scanned the scenery, eventually setting on the Kray Towers. Mia on the other hand, wore a sky-blue dress that brought out the colour of her eyes. Though her thick brown hair cascaded over her shoulders as she walked, her face showed the subtle signs of early middle age; wrinkles were beginning to form underneath her eyes and on her forehead, and while she moved fairly gracefully, one could see she was not as mobile as she was when she was younger.

Elizabeth was a blend of both of them; tall, brown eyes and hair. She wore a white blouse and grey skirt to which the latter fell just above her knees. Her eyes sparkled as she set her gaze upon the festival, and then glanced towards the approaching Lara Kray and Ulurq.

"We're here." Mia spoke. "I cannot wait to meet everyone. Let's get the gifts out of the trunk then, shall we?"

Once the driver opened the boot, the assistants - with the help of the royals - put the dozens of gifts and bouquets of flowers into a large trolley, and they set off for the Auburn Festival.

(OOC: In Xentherida our monarchs are much less formal than other nations'. Ours own their own businesses and often appear in public dressed casually. While tourists may want a picture or autograph, they are usually deemed equal to other Xentheridans. However, the public do have a lot of respect for them; their descendants of the original leader of the Great Xentheridan Revolution (which overthrew the cruel Despotoan leaders), and the monarchs themselves commit to their duties; Christian is often present in parliament, and Mia and Elizabeth frequently work in charities, mainly charities involved with the protection of species and humans. They don't rely on assistants much, and do a lot of work themselves.)

Sera turned to look at the Templars then at Olieg "Do they have to be so silent? It's creepy..." She sighed, causing Garvin to chuckle softly, which still was loud enough to draw attention "Of course my dear, these lads love nothing more than an evening of warm cinnamon milk and crochet!" His laugh now boisterous enough to begin attracting attention, Shera cringed slightly, noticing Olieg's slight embarrassment "I'm sorry Ma'am but they are bound by oath to not speak while in uniform." Contrasting his guards, the young priest was likeable and friendly but his slight blush was at least partially attributable to being so close to Sera. Shera folded her arms and shook her head "Don't worry, once the handover is made the Templars will return to the plane." She smiled, gently squeezing the acting Khan's shoulder reassuringly. Sera seemed to feel relief at this and began to relax, hoping her speech would go smoothly.

((OOC: For Garvin just imagine Brian Blessed turning it up to 11 XD. Also dunno if I mentioned it but Sera is based on my RL sister, to whom puberty was inordinately kind, lot of Beach trips were spent with me having to look imposing to scare off the beach cruisers XD but yeah, she'd probably turn a few heads.))

Antlerio smiled at the appearance of Nursson and Kray. Malachit's face betrayed no emotion.
"So," said Antlerio after a moment of awkward silence. "How are you all?"

"Very good!" said the Prime Minister. "It's wonderful to see you here. After the long conflict behind us, this festival is ushering a new age of peace and progress!"

"Indeed," said Antlerio, though his smile no longer reached his eyes. "May I interest you in our gifts?"

"Of course!" Nursson replied. "We brought our own for the delegations attending."

Lara smiled gleefully whilst her hair blew a little in the wind. She'd accepted Nursson's handshake whilst Ulurq stayed behind her, bowing to avoid contact with their skin and begun to listen to their conversation about gifts for the delegates.
"May I motion us indoors" He suggested, giving no emotion or tone.
"Oh! Wonderful idea, it's kind of cold out here. We are in the mountains." Lara agreed.

"Yes, excellent idea," Antlerio said, slightly shaken by Ulurq's appearance. Malachit did not react. As they turned toward the building, Malachit took Antlerio's case.

Malachit, Antlerio and the Syrixian delegate were motioned into the Western Kray tower, the top floors being the home of Lara, Chester and Ulurq. The reception on the ground floor was a clean, pristine place with walls made of glass and mahogany and black desks with contrasting decor, it was designed to match the city's clean and modern appearance that was vastly different from the other cities of the nation, which people were slowly leaving due to the Karandin events. An enormous chandelier hung from the ceiling with long, cylindrical lights that sloped up in a spiral-shape and brightened up the entire room, that wasn't blocked by the elevator shaft behind the chandelier, with a warm, home-like light. The light bounced off Ulurq's green-tinted skin as if the chandelier was not there and left him appearing pale and lifeless compared to the other people in the room, this didn't bother Lara though who seemed to be bubbly and excited.
"We need to take the elevator to Floor 347, should only take around 10 minutes to get to our home where we'll proceed to head to the small conference room we have there for more personal events like this." Lara explained as she led the small crowd on into the small elevator.

The Seblandian jet landed and the king got out. It was obvious that he just woke up. A black SUV drove up to the jet, so the king didn't have to walk so far. He got in. The SUV got to Ganjarius in less than fifteen minutes. Zertan's car parked behind a limousine. A security guard that sat in the passenger's got out and opened the door, so Zertan could get out.

The king wore a dark grey suit, a white shirt and a red tie with black shoes and a black hat. The young king took his hat off to spike up his dark brown hair. Zertan tried to stop yawning, so he didn't look rude. He was quite tired even though he slept half the flight.
"Jack, what time is it?"
"Three o'clock, sir."
"Hurry up! We're late!"
Zertan walked up to Lara. "Hello Lara. Sorry we're late. We had a delay."

"Excellent," Malachit said, speaking for the first time. "We have excellent gifts, I think. Very rare, very interesting."

"It's not going to be someone's head, is it?" Clemence whispered to her partner, Dennis. "They are not going to whip out a severed head in front of all these people?"

"Steady, Wood. I doubt it is a head, they can't be as bad as that." He sounded calm and reassuring, yet he did instruct one of the medical team--Mina, if she remembered correctly--to be ready to distract their patient, just in case.

Sera regarded the air between Nursson and Malachit carefully, she was unnaturally quiet as se tried to size up the two men carefully, she had met Nursson and had talked to him at length, she was the ne who had told Sebt the Syrixians should be courted as potential allies prior to the establishing of their first alliance with New Sekai. Garvin meanwhile grinned widely "Good to see that hatchet buried... and not in anybody's face!." he laughed, amused by his own joke. Shera silently cringed at the Elder's lack of tact.

"I must say," Sirus remarked, "The Kray Towers are impressive. Whilst Parliament Hall aims for wideness and area, the Kray Towers stretch into the sky."

TBF

Garvin grinned, walking over before he could be stopped by Shera, he looked like something out of a sword and sorecery epic, slapping Nursson on the back so hard he almost stumbled "It's not the size Alfie, it's how you use it!" again with a thunderous laugh before putting his arms around both leaders "That said this is an absolutely gorgeous building..." he beamed, suddenly looking at Kray, his voice softening and suddenly becoming a little flirtatious "Of course, a perfect tower for the young lady, to be as the fair maiden of stories of times long ago ruling the fair lands from an impressive edifice such as this..." his natural charm, although rather potent, clearly made Shera facepalm as Sera quietly glared at her Grandfather.

"Alfie?!" Nursson laughed. "That's the funniest, and simultaneously the stupidest, nickname I've ever heard for myself." He paused, and then remarked, "Still, this is a festival. Formalities are not needed. We're here to have fun." He then proceeded to offer the first yet most mundane of his gifts: hand-crafted mahogany smoking pipes. He already had his trademark pipe with him, of course. It had become an icon of his political persona, often known as the Bulldog.

Malachit shot the Sadakhan a glare. "Since our friends from Sadakoyama seem to have their ideas on what their gift might be, they shall receive theirs first.
He lifted the first case onto the table, and they could see that it had eight glass circles set into the front. He rotated one with the Sadakhan coat of arms etched into it, and it clicked open. He reached inside and pulled out...
...two small terrariums, filled with small samples of Nebulan plants, and with hooked up climate control.
"The entire thing is sealed, " Malachit explained, "so you don't need to worry about seeds or spores escaping. There are several small internal detectors that will indicate whenever anything is wrong, so as long as you keep it plugged in and top up the life support tanks. It's got its own temperature regulator, so don't worry about keeping it somewhere special." He pressed the terrariums into their hands.

Clemence blushed; she hadn't intended her remarks to be overheard. "Thank you, this is lovely, and thoughtful." She forgot to speak for a moment as she became absorbed in examining the details of the machinery sustaining the device.

"I am, uh afraid we did not bring gifts for anyone; I'm a physician, not a diplomat. I could arrange for some wine to be brought over from our ship, if that would be appropriate? I believe we have an unopened case of a Marsei Riesling I'm personally fond of."

"I would certainly love a Riesling. I always did like it better than the old Balamb Rum." the Prime Minister laughingly noted.