- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
- TNP Nation
- Prydania
- Discord
- lordgigaice
Býkonsviði, Prydania
November was here, and it felt like it in Býkonsviði. Dark skies and snow. It was only 5:00 and the sun hadn't been seen for an hour.
But even then, or perhaps because of it, the Prime Minister's office at the Haraldvirki* was cozy. Kjell had kept the lights in the ceiling fixtures off, keeping just a light in the far left corner of the room and a light on his desk on, giving the office a warm feeling amidst the white snow against the black sky.
He was relaxed himself. He could likely take this stack of paperwork and legislative drafting over the couch on the far end of the office and read everything until he passed out. Býkonsviði wasn't Stormurholmr, his home town, but on nights like tonight it always felt that way.
His office decor reflected that. Just above that couch that looked so inviting was a painting. It was a replica of an original painting which once again sat in Stormurholmr's civic museum, and it showed a brilliant comet streaking across the night sky, above the dark people and buildings of Stormurholmr. It was the Great Comet of 1681, seen across northern Craviter and Gothis.
The walls and his desk were also dotted with pictures- some of him meeting other foreign dignitaries but must showing his family and his friends. Those that were still with us and those that... weren't. And finally the painting of Stormurholmr's famous lighthouse, amongst grey skies and thrashing seas. It was just a bit of his home here, in the nation's capital. He went to sip some water when a knock startled him. It had been a quiet day and he wasn't expecting anyone.
"I'm sorry Herra Prime Minister," his secretary Hedinfrid Goplen said as she opened the door.
"The Deputy Prime Minister and the Chief of the ÖSU are here."
"They are?" Kjell raised an eyebrow over his glasses rims.
"Já sir."
That was odd. Something would have to amiss. He sighed as he felt some unease in his gut. The first time today. He leaned back in his chair some as he set the legislative drafts he was looking over down.
"Send them in Hedi."
"Right away sir."
It wasn't long before Sören Högh and Max Hvieti were both in his office. Sören's own office was in the same building of course, but Max had come from ÖSU HQ, out of town. He quickly discarded his overcoat to reveal that, yes, he was still wearing a Skandan shirt under it. The two sat across from Kjell as Hvieite dropped a thick folder on the desk.
"So what's got you two carpooling?" Kjell asked, trying to lighten the mood as he glanced at Max's folder.
"Go to Eras Daily," Sören said. Kjell shot him a confused look and then shrugged.
"There are less painful ways of giving me a brain tumour, you know," Svane remarked as he pulled up the Rayvostokan propaganda site masquerading as a news site.
And there on the front of the site's home page was a picture of Chairwoman Denvikov and the headline RAVOSTOKA APOLOGIES TO PRYDANIA.
"Huh," Kjell muttered in shock as he leaned back in his chair some more, looking at the screen before turning to Sören.
"This is for real?"
"It just happened."
"Why didn't you tell me they were planning on doing this?" the Prime Minister asked. Sören wasn't just the Deputy Prime Minister, he was the Foreign Affairs minister.
"They never told us they were. They never reached out, either directly or through an intermediary. They just did... this," Sören explained, a bit flabbergasted as he motioned towards Kjell's computer.
Kjell nodded and turned to Max.
"And you. None of your assets in Auroria tipped you off?"
"Lebedevgrad's government buildings," Max replied, not reacting to the Prime Minister's urgent tone, "have many a small dark room where handshakes happen. You can't know what goes on, fully."
"Hmmm," Kjell mused.
"And now?"
"My Aurorian sources," Max answered, "are telling me that it's genuine."
"So of course," Kjell said, deciding to jump straight into business, "the questions are why, and what do we do?"
"Clearly they're trying to thaw relations," Sören remarked.
"My best guess at this point is that they saw that Esþursia was not going to try and negotiate with us on their behalf so they decided to address us directly."
"Well speaking of Esþursia they've been negotiating for a while now, attempting to induce some reform."
"Já," Sören replied.
"I'd hesitate to call it successful but..."
"It depends on what you mean by reform," Max interrupted.
"They're calling it democratization but that's bullshit. It's just a more decentralized communist dictatorship with more localized autonomy. But no one has the right to vote the Messianic Communist Party out of power."
"But," Sören replied, "that was never a condition. Our embargo and freeze on our relations with them called for reform and shutting down the collectivized agriculture camps. Both have technically happened and they've reached out."
"Are you hesitant about this?" Kjell asked, turning to Max.
"I don't trust these sorts, unless there's something they can gain. Democracies tend to genuinely believe in their own rhetoric alongside their own geo-political interests. But a dictatorship is only as trustworthy so long as mutual benefit exists."
"Well," Sören said with a shrug.
"We can offer them an end to our embargo. Not only would their goods re-appear on our shelves but our goods would re-enter their market. And I'm sure the end to the embargo would help the perception that they're no longer isolated."
Kjell said nothing. He respected that from Sören but now was the time to be very matter of fact.
"I'm not sure we can do that."
"I'm not a fan of their government either, Kjell," he replied, but they've made positive movements in the right direction and they technically fulfilled what our embargo legislation demanded of them."
Kjell sighed. Sören could be a robot at times, swear to God.
"My caucus REALLY doesn't like Rayvostoka," Kjell said plainly. "Even if they have met our requirements, my caucus would not be eager to re-open negotiations with them."
Sören studied the Prime Minister. He knew why, of course, he knew that was likely the general mood of the country, but he had ro
see if there was some wiggle room. He simply didn't like seeing an opportunity go to waste.
"We are trading partners with Skanda and we're allies to Cogoria and the Stan Yera."
"Mutually beneficial relationships," Max interjected.
"Like I said," he added with a hand gesture that was halfway between a finger gun and a fist bump.
"The youth wing of my party isn't fond of them either," Kjell answered with a chuckle.
"I thought they brought you on board to be the adult in the room," Sören said with a slight smile of his own. Kjell frowned. He didn't care for the infantilizing of his caucus. And it was a reminder that while they were coalition partners, Sören was from a different party.
"I'm responsible to my caucus, same as you," he said bluntly.
"What is it that we stand to gain?"
"You're a diplomat, Kjell. I'm surprised you can't see it."
"I can see a lot of complaining. That's what I see. And I see Rayvostoka asking for more the moment they get a foot in."
"Always a possibility," Max interjected.
"Assuming another idiot takes power. Which... well... it happened already. So...."
"We embargoed them. We said we would not negotiate until certain conditions were met, and there were. You can spin this as a win. We stared them down, they backed down. Emphasize the closing of the camps and the end to collectivization. That'll play great with your base, and we look good. You got Kolfinnur Grundt a pardon. Play that compassion and forgiveness card."
Kjell looked over at the wall, to the picture of the famous Stormurholmr lighthouse.
"You know what they say about being too compassionate," Kjell said with an eyebrow raised above the line of his glasses.
"Something about elves leaving you for dead in the forest. I don't really know the whole thing, I'm city folk," Sören chuckled.
"That's the gist," Kjell replied and leaned back to sigh.
"I'll accept the apology tomorrow morning. I'll have the media know I'll be making a statement. You, Sören, contact the Esþursians and ask them to pass along to Rayvostoka that we're willing to talk. I'd like to switch from public gestures to proper diplomatic channels as soon as possible."
"Right," Sören replied, smiling as he stood.
"This seems right."
"I should hope so," Kjell answered.
"We'll reconvene in the morning. I just need to break the news to my caucus. Tonight."
"That'll be rough," Sören muttered. It was late. That would be it even harder.
"Já, so if you don't mind?"
Sören nodded, taking his leave as Kjell turned to Max.
"And you..."
"Já?"
"I need an ÖSU report on Rayvostoka's geopolitical outlook. Preferably by tomorrow morning."
Max nodded, and got up, grabbing his coat.
"You should talk to your people as soon as possible. You need a good night's sleep."
"Thanks for the heads up," Kjell replied, a bit coldly.
"I mean it. Tonight's perfect for it."
Max left the Haraldvirki as light snow fell, a car waiting for him to take him back to ÖSU headquarters. The moons glowed softly in the sky, and the snow danced on the lights. He nodded. Tonight was a good night to get some sleep.
*Haraldvirki- Harald Fort, the house of the Alþingi, Prydania's legislator
November was here, and it felt like it in Býkonsviði. Dark skies and snow. It was only 5:00 and the sun hadn't been seen for an hour.
But even then, or perhaps because of it, the Prime Minister's office at the Haraldvirki* was cozy. Kjell had kept the lights in the ceiling fixtures off, keeping just a light in the far left corner of the room and a light on his desk on, giving the office a warm feeling amidst the white snow against the black sky.
He was relaxed himself. He could likely take this stack of paperwork and legislative drafting over the couch on the far end of the office and read everything until he passed out. Býkonsviði wasn't Stormurholmr, his home town, but on nights like tonight it always felt that way.
His office decor reflected that. Just above that couch that looked so inviting was a painting. It was a replica of an original painting which once again sat in Stormurholmr's civic museum, and it showed a brilliant comet streaking across the night sky, above the dark people and buildings of Stormurholmr. It was the Great Comet of 1681, seen across northern Craviter and Gothis.
The walls and his desk were also dotted with pictures- some of him meeting other foreign dignitaries but must showing his family and his friends. Those that were still with us and those that... weren't. And finally the painting of Stormurholmr's famous lighthouse, amongst grey skies and thrashing seas. It was just a bit of his home here, in the nation's capital. He went to sip some water when a knock startled him. It had been a quiet day and he wasn't expecting anyone.
"I'm sorry Herra Prime Minister," his secretary Hedinfrid Goplen said as she opened the door.
"The Deputy Prime Minister and the Chief of the ÖSU are here."
"They are?" Kjell raised an eyebrow over his glasses rims.
"Já sir."
That was odd. Something would have to amiss. He sighed as he felt some unease in his gut. The first time today. He leaned back in his chair some as he set the legislative drafts he was looking over down.
"Send them in Hedi."
"Right away sir."
It wasn't long before Sören Högh and Max Hvieti were both in his office. Sören's own office was in the same building of course, but Max had come from ÖSU HQ, out of town. He quickly discarded his overcoat to reveal that, yes, he was still wearing a Skandan shirt under it. The two sat across from Kjell as Hvieite dropped a thick folder on the desk.
"So what's got you two carpooling?" Kjell asked, trying to lighten the mood as he glanced at Max's folder.
"Go to Eras Daily," Sören said. Kjell shot him a confused look and then shrugged.
"There are less painful ways of giving me a brain tumour, you know," Svane remarked as he pulled up the Rayvostokan propaganda site masquerading as a news site.
And there on the front of the site's home page was a picture of Chairwoman Denvikov and the headline RAVOSTOKA APOLOGIES TO PRYDANIA.
"Huh," Kjell muttered in shock as he leaned back in his chair some more, looking at the screen before turning to Sören.
"This is for real?"
"It just happened."
"Why didn't you tell me they were planning on doing this?" the Prime Minister asked. Sören wasn't just the Deputy Prime Minister, he was the Foreign Affairs minister.
"They never told us they were. They never reached out, either directly or through an intermediary. They just did... this," Sören explained, a bit flabbergasted as he motioned towards Kjell's computer.
Kjell nodded and turned to Max.
"And you. None of your assets in Auroria tipped you off?"
"Lebedevgrad's government buildings," Max replied, not reacting to the Prime Minister's urgent tone, "have many a small dark room where handshakes happen. You can't know what goes on, fully."
"Hmmm," Kjell mused.
"And now?"
"My Aurorian sources," Max answered, "are telling me that it's genuine."
"So of course," Kjell said, deciding to jump straight into business, "the questions are why, and what do we do?"
"Clearly they're trying to thaw relations," Sören remarked.
"My best guess at this point is that they saw that Esþursia was not going to try and negotiate with us on their behalf so they decided to address us directly."
"Well speaking of Esþursia they've been negotiating for a while now, attempting to induce some reform."
"Já," Sören replied.
"I'd hesitate to call it successful but..."
"It depends on what you mean by reform," Max interrupted.
"They're calling it democratization but that's bullshit. It's just a more decentralized communist dictatorship with more localized autonomy. But no one has the right to vote the Messianic Communist Party out of power."
"But," Sören replied, "that was never a condition. Our embargo and freeze on our relations with them called for reform and shutting down the collectivized agriculture camps. Both have technically happened and they've reached out."
"Are you hesitant about this?" Kjell asked, turning to Max.
"I don't trust these sorts, unless there's something they can gain. Democracies tend to genuinely believe in their own rhetoric alongside their own geo-political interests. But a dictatorship is only as trustworthy so long as mutual benefit exists."
"Well," Sören said with a shrug.
"We can offer them an end to our embargo. Not only would their goods re-appear on our shelves but our goods would re-enter their market. And I'm sure the end to the embargo would help the perception that they're no longer isolated."
Kjell said nothing. He respected that from Sören but now was the time to be very matter of fact.
"I'm not sure we can do that."
"I'm not a fan of their government either, Kjell," he replied, but they've made positive movements in the right direction and they technically fulfilled what our embargo legislation demanded of them."
Kjell sighed. Sören could be a robot at times, swear to God.
"My caucus REALLY doesn't like Rayvostoka," Kjell said plainly. "Even if they have met our requirements, my caucus would not be eager to re-open negotiations with them."
Sören studied the Prime Minister. He knew why, of course, he knew that was likely the general mood of the country, but he had ro
see if there was some wiggle room. He simply didn't like seeing an opportunity go to waste.
"We are trading partners with Skanda and we're allies to Cogoria and the Stan Yera."
"Mutually beneficial relationships," Max interjected.
"Like I said," he added with a hand gesture that was halfway between a finger gun and a fist bump.
"The youth wing of my party isn't fond of them either," Kjell answered with a chuckle.
"I thought they brought you on board to be the adult in the room," Sören said with a slight smile of his own. Kjell frowned. He didn't care for the infantilizing of his caucus. And it was a reminder that while they were coalition partners, Sören was from a different party.
"I'm responsible to my caucus, same as you," he said bluntly.
"What is it that we stand to gain?"
"You're a diplomat, Kjell. I'm surprised you can't see it."
"I can see a lot of complaining. That's what I see. And I see Rayvostoka asking for more the moment they get a foot in."
"Always a possibility," Max interjected.
"Assuming another idiot takes power. Which... well... it happened already. So...."
"We embargoed them. We said we would not negotiate until certain conditions were met, and there were. You can spin this as a win. We stared them down, they backed down. Emphasize the closing of the camps and the end to collectivization. That'll play great with your base, and we look good. You got Kolfinnur Grundt a pardon. Play that compassion and forgiveness card."
Kjell looked over at the wall, to the picture of the famous Stormurholmr lighthouse.
"You know what they say about being too compassionate," Kjell said with an eyebrow raised above the line of his glasses.
"Something about elves leaving you for dead in the forest. I don't really know the whole thing, I'm city folk," Sören chuckled.
"That's the gist," Kjell replied and leaned back to sigh.
"I'll accept the apology tomorrow morning. I'll have the media know I'll be making a statement. You, Sören, contact the Esþursians and ask them to pass along to Rayvostoka that we're willing to talk. I'd like to switch from public gestures to proper diplomatic channels as soon as possible."
"Right," Sören replied, smiling as he stood.
"This seems right."
"I should hope so," Kjell answered.
"We'll reconvene in the morning. I just need to break the news to my caucus. Tonight."
"That'll be rough," Sören muttered. It was late. That would be it even harder.
"Já, so if you don't mind?"
Sören nodded, taking his leave as Kjell turned to Max.
"And you..."
"Já?"
"I need an ÖSU report on Rayvostoka's geopolitical outlook. Preferably by tomorrow morning."
Max nodded, and got up, grabbing his coat.
"You should talk to your people as soon as possible. You need a good night's sleep."
"Thanks for the heads up," Kjell replied, a bit coldly.
"I mean it. Tonight's perfect for it."
Max left the Haraldvirki as light snow fell, a car waiting for him to take him back to ÖSU headquarters. The moons glowed softly in the sky, and the snow danced on the lights. He nodded. Tonight was a good night to get some sleep.
*Haraldvirki- Harald Fort, the house of the Alþingi, Prydania's legislator
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