The Arcanstotzkan Visit [CLOSED, Arc]

Pikabo

Makopa/Zhen
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pikabo8380
Novaya Grestin International Airport

President Gavril Belov looked at his watch, checking the time in case he arrived early. That, or his 52-year-old self is getting bored. The Arcanstotzkan plane opened its doors and the airstairs are in place, but the most important visitor of the year hasn't disembarked.

"I think I arrived a bit early," Belov said.

Wira snorted. "Maybe they didn't maximize their president's time here." She pointed at the ground. "The less important the country, the lesser time there'll be for tea."

Belov shook his head. "Based on that assessment, you've only watched state visits on television. There's less screen time for less important visits. Plus, who the hell watches old people drink tea?" He sized up Wira, noticing how young she looks. "If I'm not mistaken, this is your first time handling a state visit. Is it?"

"Yes." Wira sighed. "I wish it wasn't. I don't want to be here."

"Too bad." Belov patted her on the shoulder. "You're the Prime Minister's private secretary. I'm just here for the ride."

Wira glanced at the line of people beside them. "And what are there these guys for? Stand-ins for the Cabinet?"

Belov coughed, clearing his throat. "They are the Cabinet." He coughed again to cover up what he said.

Adjusting her glasses, Wira looked at them and smiled. "Ah. Okay..." She looked up at the bright blue sky, squinting at the blinding sunlight in the corner of her eyes. "Must be the sun. It is noon."

"Hopefully, the President will like the sun." Belov stretched his shoulders. "These people are used to the cold. Meanwhile, we're wearing suits in a tropical environment."

Wira nodded with Belov. "In this weather, men should wear skirts."

Belov furrowed his eyebrows. But, he realized, it's not such a bad idea.
 
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The skyline of Novaya Grestin reminded Sidorov of Siloyev. Or Ramelensk or Sirinsk or Kariyevgrad. Or of the many other cities he had been to during his time as President. It gave him some small sense of home, despite the tropical climate of Makopa. Despite that small feeling of hominess he still felt like he was in a foreign place, of course, for more reasons than just how radically different Makopa and Arcanstotska were to each other environmentally.

Eagle One - the POTSAR’s* personal airliner - touched down on the Novaya Grestin airport runway without incident and gradually came to a halt. The airstairs were put in place and the doors were opened. Sidorov slipped on his suit jacket and buttoned it up before fastening his red tie.

Finally, he stepped out the doors and down the airstairs followed by a couple of secretaries. Sidorov was guided over to President Belov and smiled as he offered his hand in greeting.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. President.”

Sidorov and Belov shook hands and shared a small amount of small talk before Sidorov moved to shake hands with Wira and the members of the Makopan cabinet. He was feeling the heat of the sun gazing down upon him. It wasn’t something he was used to but he had been in tropical environments before on similar visits to other countries. This was nothing he couldn’t deal with.

*President Of The Second Arcanstotskan Republic
 
"Mr. President." Belov directed Sidorov to the dais down the red carpet. They faced a military band. Two soldiers carried the national flags of Arcanstotzka and Makopa. Drums rolled and the Arcanstotzkan anthem was played first.

"Huh." The white-haired Makopan said, almost muttering. "I just noticed the blue and red colors on your flag resemble the ones on the Makopan Quadricolor."

Since the anthem was still being played, Sidorov noddingly replied with a firm hand on his chest. It was an out-of-the-blue remark, and, to be honest, out of place. But nothing too offensive. Secretly, Belov wondered if Sidorov would notice he has dyed hair. He's old, but not that old. He just embraced the whiteness of his aging hair.

Unlike the old Makopan head of state, Sidorov waited until after the Makopan anthem to give a fully-worded reply.

Belov apologized. "I have to admit. These events, especially when they're scheduled at noon, aren't the most entertaining things. However, since you're here, the experience makes it all worth it." He blinked. "I guess, that is the point of a state visit. Not really much of a state visit without the visiting head of state. It'd be just visiting bureaucrats shaking hands with me, and that's not fun at all."

Once the salute and the review of theguard of honor ended, they drove from Novaya Grestin International Airport to Yurovsky House, the Prime Minister's official residence. It was an old merchant's house in the 1880s. It looked like a typical Arcanstotzkan mansion, at least to Belov. He's been to Arcanstotzka when he was younger.

Unbeknownst to Sidorov, Belov's arrival in Yurovsky was unscheduled. He had something to tell the Prime Minister. Whatever it was, Belov left Sidorov with a hearty smile and a handshake. "I think the Prime Minister will be more fun than me. I'm not running the country, anyway."

Sidorov watched Wira wave the President goodbye. In contrast to everyone Sidorov has met so far, Wira, along with several ministers and soldiers, has a distinct, darker complexion. Of course, they are of Ano'an descent. After Sidorov was photographed and filmed signing the house guestbook, Wira led the Arcanstotzkan president to the Prime Minister's office where they could have some privacy before the state dinner. Wira nodded at them and closed the door.

"How has your visit been so far, Mr. President?" Cocus Livius asked. "I hope the weather wasn't harsh to you. In this part of the world, the ideal fashion would be shirts, shorts, and significantly fewer jackets."

Although Arcanstotzkans and Suavidici can look alike to the Makopan eye, Sidorov was Arcanstotzkan and he noticed Livius wasn't the descendant of Arcanstotzkan settlers. Livius doesn't even look like a Szlav either.
 
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Sidorov placed his hand over his heart as the Arcanstotskan anthem played. He just ignored President Belov’s comment. In his opinion, it wasn’t exactly the best moment to be making commentary.

The anthems finished and the two heads of state proceeded.

“I’ve also noticed your quadricolor has the Suavidici purple and gold. I quite like it though - it’s a rather unique design.”

“I have to admit. These events, especially when they’re scheduled at noon, aren’t the most entertaining things. However, since you’re here, the experience makes it all worth it. I guess that is the point of a state visit. Not much of a state visit without the visiting head of state. It’d just be bureaucrats shaking hands with me, and that’s not fun at all.”

Sidorov chuckled. “Well, I’m glad to get away from Siloyev now and again. It feels good having a change of scenery. The honor’s all mine.”

They climbed into a limousine convoy and drove off to the Yurovsky House to meet with the Makopan Prime Minister. Along the drive, the two Presidents shared small talk about the differences in climate between their respective countries. The tropical heat and humidity were a stark contrast to the cool late summer weather of Arcanstotska.

After some time, the limo pulled up in front of the Prime Minister’s residence. Belov got out first to have a private word with the PM. It took a minute before he came back out, shook Sidorov’s hand a final time, and drove off. Wira led Sidorov into the Yurovsky House, then into a room where he could talk with the Makopan Prime Minister in private. It would still be some hours until the state dinner.

“How has your visit been so far, Mr. President?” Asked Prime Minister Cocus Livius, extending a hand to shake with Sidorov, which Sidorov met with his own hand. The two shook hands before taking seats across from each other. “I hope the weather wasn’t harsh to you. In this part of the world, the ideal fashion would be shirts, shorts, and significantly fewer jackets.”

Sidorov laughed a little. “Very true. If only t-shirts and shorts were appropriate for occasions such as this. I don’t pay much mind to the heat though, it’s perfectly tolerable.”

Sidorov had met a variety of heritage in Makopa already, though he paid it little mind if any at all. He wasn’t the kind of person to get hung up over such small and insignificant details. Suavidici, szlavic, or native - he didn't care.
 
"Apart from the privacy of anyone's homes, you can be naked in public." Livius chuckled at the thought. Him? Naked all the time? "Well, not THAT naked." He clarified. "You still have to hide your wedding tackle, Mr. President."

Livius waved in the attendants. They brought in refreshments on a wheeled cart. Taking his glass of coconut juice, he offered one to President Sidorov. "Rest assured. You won't be seeing anyone naked here. Hehe." Livius clinked their glasses together and led the way over to a pair of sofas in front of an open balcony view. They sat on opposite sofas, facing each other. Lounging in the cool shadow of the trees standing from the spacious garden, allowing the gentle wind to lull them to the ideal sense of summer's comforts as it flows through the skin. "Not too bad," Livius remarked to himself as he took off his jacket and folded up his sleeves. "It's nice to have a moment of peace before we get back to work. Don't you agree?"

Livius put his glass on the table in front of them and gestured his hands on an empty spot. "There's a lot I discussed with Cabinet, especially from the Minister of Foreign Affairs. There's free trade, perks for Arcanstotzkan investors, and even free movement on the table. But I'm more curious about what you would like the new relationship between Arcanstotzka and Makopa to look like."

Later that evening

"Ladies and gentlemen, the President of Arcanstotzka and the President of Makopa." A fanfare of drums, chimes, and applause greeted them as they made their entrance. Nods were exchanged. Some received special attention and received a presidential nod in their direction. When they took their seats, everybody settled down. Watching them all, a portrait with a defaced figure hung high above the room with a featureless face. He obviously did not look native to Makopa, but it is hard to determine whether the figure was Arcanstotzkan or Suavidici. Szlav could be an easy answer based on that pasty white neck. Whoever it was, their 19th-century Northern uniform suggests a high rank in some foreign military.

Livius sat not too far from President Belov, but he is not too conspicuous either. Almost set aside from the general direction of everyone's attention. Only the two heads of state were in focus.

"...I must admit, ladies and gentlemen," Belov began in his speech. "President Sidorov's visit is a blessing. I can finally see whether my tan has paid off." He can hear some laughter from the crowd. Hyped, Belov hit it with a sly smile. "Instead of looking like super-pornstar Kai Kof, I share a closer resemblance to a half-cooked DeliManĝaĵoj's Pura Suka hotdog."

A roar of laughter erupted, followed by a round of applause.

"...The relations between Makopa and Arcanstotzka have always been intimate. Makopa, as a former colony, finds a traditional ally in Arcanstotzka. It is our desire that this relationship will continue to flourish. To this end, the government's agenda is to make trade relations between our two countries more transparent, more accessible, and more intertwined. Arcanstotzkans investors will always be welcome to Makopa, and we hope our efforts for closer ties will encourage further partnership and cooperation in future endeavors."

At the end of his speech, Belov winked at President Sidorov as he sat down. "I warmed up the crowd for you. Better pray General Faceless likes your speech. I gave one joke because I don't want anything up my ass tonight."
 
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