Inauguration Day The weeks following the election had been nothing short of a chaotic whirlwind for not only President-Elect Pershing, but the nation on the whole. While the Chamber was still occupied by acting President Durst, Ian and at least most of his transition team had begun occupying most of Whitmore Manor and begun the business of setting up a functional rudimentary administration. Ian had heard Ilsa coming down the hallway a good minute before she'd actually come through the door. Going to need to get some carpeting. "Here's your itinerary, Mr. President-Elect." Beaming, she handed him the folder. "I hope you're not going to get all formal on me now." Ian flopped down in the closest seat and reviewed the schedule. "No. I just like calling you that! It's all so... surreal, you know? Part of me can't believe we did it." The campaign manager now appointed Chief of Staff had, in fact, remained giddy as a love-addled schoolgirl since election night. Pershing snorted. "I know the feeling, though the avalanche of work has helped the realism sink in. I could literally never sleep and I think I'd still fall behind." Ilsa smirked "I hate to tell you this, but it's probably not going to get any easier. Though once we're settled in and a lot of the appointments have been made we can at least find a rhythm." Ian rubbed the bridge of his nose as he nodded "And what is the status of said appointments?" "Monika Van Zyl sent word last night that she would accept Foreign Affairs. Jens was initially surprised at being offered the Defense Ministry but I talked him into it, Klark leaped at Internal Affairs, but I stressed to him that was only temporary until the Parliamentary elections." She took a long deep breath. "As for the rest? We're still working on that and I should hopefully have something for you by the end of the week." "And has His Rotundness handed over his files on the investigation into Bech's assassination?" Ilsa shook her head. "No, he hasn't. And I'm starting to wonder if he even has any." "Don't ask him again. We'll get our people on it. He's either dragging his feet, incompetent, or both. Even if he handed me a lorry full of papers at this point I wouldn't trust them. There's too much shit with the EWC that just doesn't add up." The incoming Chief of Staff nodded "On a related note, most of the riots have died down but the S.V wants to play it safe. And by 'safe' I mean they've erected a two meter tall bulletproof shield in front of the podium where you'll be sworn in." Ian shrugged as he stood, handing the folder to Ilsa. "Whatever they feel like they have to do. I'm not of the mind to contradict them, Lord knows they have enough stress and morale's been... wanting, since the assassination. As long as the field of view isn't obstructed I'm fine with it." No sooner than the sentence had escaped his lips two S.V. agents stepped into the room. "Mr. President-Elect, we're ready." Ilsa moved as if to kiss him, then halting to reach out and give his left arm a gentle squeeze. "Well then, looks like it's showtime." "Indeed, Ms. Drageby. Destiny calls."