Cybil de Blanc

[quote]The end begets the beginning. Silly things may pass. What is best is that we extend our hands, and remain with smiles on our faces.[/quote] [i][center]~*~*~*~*~*~*~[/center][/i] [center][b][u]An Official Statement On the War By the Country of Cyneriice Northan[/u][/b] [i]"We shall not join our brothers and sisters in battle. "Though it may be said that this is a war of liberation, Cyneriice Northan has just recovered from a devastating civil war. Our people are weary and wary of fighting again, and thus, we must remain neutral until the populace heals. Otherwise, we the Northans will support no side, and there is no doubt tempers may flare, severing the ties we have to the CAN and the world. "However, we will not fully withdraw from the call to battle. For all CAN nations, Cyneriice Northan will serve as a haven for refuelling, supplies, medical care and as a safe haven of refugees. We also extend this refugee call to the innocent swept up in this war, who may need a home until the fighting ceases. "Call us cowards, but I, Queen Alysandra of House Lacroix, will not force my people into a conflict the majority do not wish to join. Call us cowards, but who is more loyal - the sled dog whipped and forced to work, starved and stripped of its dignity, or the sled dog who is left to sleep by the fire, fed the best food and whose paws are bandaged when they are bloody from racing, left to run another day?"[/i][/center]

Cybil would crash into Karl in an instant, should the man not move. This would be due to the fact she had roller-skates on her feet, and had gained a bit too much momentum a short distance back. Such was the case when you spun around via use of a street sign pole, dodging a dog walker's rogue pack of dogs as they hurried past to the nearest garbage pile. Why she had convinced Hannah to let her try roller-skating again? "Uggggh.... What a trip...." If one listened carefully, it was British with a French influence, overlaid over something found in the Arctic regions of former Viniland. This would betray Cybil as a foreigner, and her black hair, amber eyes, tan-darkened skin and mole would probably give away who she was. For now, however, she was unknown to this man as she rubbed her head, realizing in a few seconds what she had done. "Oh, [i]sheesh[/i]! Sorry, sorry - that was incredibly stupid of me to do! I am [i]so sorry[/i]!" cried Cybil, quickly scrambling to her feet, and reaching for the gentleman's hand. "That looked like a bad spill...are you okay?"

This was a most appropriate time for Alysandra to blush. She turned a deep red, sputtering a little as she tried to correct herself. "Erm...s-so sorry, I kind of...uh...JERRY!" "Yes?" asked one of the male servants. "Where are my notes?!" "They were scattered in the plane the second time we hit turbulence." "Exactly - pardon me if I seem a bit...scatterbrained. Hehe, across the continent in the [i]Ricketymobile[/i]...what else can I say?" said Alysandra, smiling sheepishly. She then cleared her throat a little too harshly, and composed herself. "Well, enough dilly-dallying around. Secretary Roosevelt (pardon me if that's not the right term, it's a Northanic thing), President Johnson, I would be happy to go to your point of power now. Please sirs, if there's anything you need of me at the moment, please do ask before we reach our destination; my servants and I are at your beck and call. Speaking of which - JONES!" "Yes?" "The jerky, and...stuff!" Another male servant stepped up, holding a hand-carved soapstone box, decorated with the crest of the Federated States. Inside were ten pieces of the finest reindeer jerky in Northan, and a box of the finest cranberry-cinnamon Labrador tea mix. Also as a gift were two specially-trained ravens, kept in a spacious cage and meant to carry messages back and forth over a short distance, akin to what a carrier pigeon would do.

"Cyneriice Northan will also deploy CANJSF troops if asked. I vote for Protectorate status of the former nation as well."

Alysandra giggled, but not in a bad way. "Such a gentleman you are, President Roosevelt," she said, drawing her hand back slowly, as she had a habit of accidentally smacking people in the face if she moved too fast. Often, the servants were not amused. "I look forward to our chatting." She then shook hands with everybody, as cheerful as ever despite the near-death experience. The President Johnson then asked if Alysandra was all right. She gave a "pfft", sound, saying, "Oh sure! We fly around in these things all the time up in Cyneriice Northan! This was just a setback - probably the lack of cold not making it hold well together. Oh well - shall we go to Washington now?"

-cue clicking sound and turning key- Unlock, please.

Locking for the moment.

OOC: This takes place before our meeting, Jed. [center]- === -[/center] "You got it, Disaparuean buddy," said Alysandra, giving the representative a thumbs-up. "We're all good. You know, you look kind of stressed - you and the Newbie Canuck should come over to the castle some time. I just got a new console for [i]Dance Dance Revolution [/i]from Australia!"

The door to the jet immediately popped open, followed by Alysandra bolting out the door, making a diving roll to the ground as she did. Her finish wasn't all that spectacular, as she tripped up standing again on her robes, faceplanting into the ground as a result. She quickly regained her senses, though, and brushed off her robes as her servants and the pilot leapt and/or tumbled out of the plane. "Greetings FSA people!" said Alysandra, raising a hand in greeting. "I am Alysandra Lacroix, Her Royal Awesomeness of Cyneriice Northan. I apologize about the [i]Ricketymobile[/i], er...kind of kersploding a little bit, but hey, everything's better with explosions!" The Queen then turned to Roosevelt and Johnson, giving a polite bow before holding out her hand for a shake. "The honourable leaders of this honourable country, I presume?"

"The Wilsons have a point; we stick together or fail forever," said Alysandra. "And yeah, you guys can pull out. I've got over 100,000 loyal troops who came back/finished training/etc. at my disposal, and there's only about...." Alysandra counted on her fingers. "400,000 people in Cyneriice Northan after the conflict. A lot of refugees didn't want to stay there, y'know."

"Your Highness?" a voice began over the intercom. "Yeeees?" "There appears to be a problem with one of the eng - " [i]KABOOM![/i] The left engine exploded in a shower of sparks and smoke, loud beeping heard from the cockpit. The jet lurched hard to the left, swinging back and forth, causing everyone (except the pilot) to start screaming. Alysandra and her entourage struggled to hold on to something, the plane quickly descending downwards. "AAAAAAH!! STEADY THIS THING YOU [i]DOLTS[/i]!" bellowed Alysandra. "We're trying to, Your Majesty! Hang on, it's going to be a rough landing!" The plane continued to lurch, eventually tipping slightly to the left. There was a loud bang, and something flew off the plane's tail, causing the thing to turn sideways. There was quite a lot of screaming, and in the cockpit, the pilot gritted his teeth. "EVERYBODY HOLD ON!" The plane came in a little to the side, but mostly straight. As soon as it hit the runway, however, it turned to the side, skidding across the strip and fish-tailing a bit. Eventually, though, it came to a stop, but only after much screeching from the wheels and skid marks.

Alysandra's face went blank. "Dude..." she began, "the coffee was only a catalyst. Everyone's ticked because of how the leadership was changing. Torklurapok had an axe to grind because of all them rules I was passin'. I know the instigators of this entire mess are hiding somewhere up north, and that the Coffee Parties and I have come to...some sort of an agreement...but yeah. Everyone's ticked because of the government, typical scenario. Besides, what about fresh food and water? I know a lot of places got their water supply cut off. Have humanitarian stations been set up, or did you settle everyone down by just handing out coffee?"

"Ummmmmmm...." Awkward silence descended over Alysandra. The girl laughed nervously. "Well...there was a dung-flinging catapult outside Castle Northanholde last night...does that count?"

"I'm already back on the throne," Alysandra said flatly. "And everything's...mostly under control. Little rats are scurrying into the Baffin Mountains and further north; watch the CAN Protectorate for 'em." With a sigh, Alysandra leaned back in her chair. "And okay, I'll sit this one out. Cybby would probably think it was a bad idea, anyways...."

"But that's the point!" said Alysandra. "Tahoe may be big and scary, but if we get to know its leaders on a human level, then it breaks down a whole whack of barriers! And frankly, Tahoe [i]is[/i] the school bully, only with tanks and weaponry and a lot of land! We must approach them with [i]confidence[/i]!" Alysandra pointed a finger over-dramatically at the sky. "Furthermore, Tahoe is big on sovereignty, keeping continents free of colonization, yada yada...are they not? We can say we're just trying to make sure the Arctic waters are kept firmly under our control!"

[i]BAM![/i] The Northanic Queen, Alysandra Lacroix, stood with one hand on the slammed-open door, leaning against in a stereotypically "cool" fashion. "Did somebody call for...[i]DIPLOMACY[/i]?!!" Alysandra slicked back her hair with one hand, then turned around and moonwalked backwards into the room. She bobbed her head to an invisible beat as she did, then grabbed a chair and hopped into it. Whipping a sheet of paper out of the inside pocket of her royal robe, the Northanic Queen slid it across the table, revealing an extensive plan on a diplomatic mission to Tahoe. "For our 'too-long-didn't-read' version," said Alysandra, "I come bearing gifts and being all smiley and happy. One of my friends speaks Irish Gaelic, so he's coming along as a fellow diplomat, hurr hurr. I make small talk, compliment the Big Cheese, then make my proposal. Once everything is said and done, regardless of the outcome (except being thrown out of the palace, of course) - " Alysandra pulled out the packaging of a very familiar, very dance-oriented video game.... " - I challenge his mad skills to a game of [i]Dance Dance Revolution[/i]! Hoo-ah!"

If I have to be really honest, the main reason I put fantasy in my nation's storyline is because of a sort of "follow-the-leader" mentality. Just a few months back, I dug my heels seriously into CNRP, and at that time, and because of the massive history surrounding this RP-verse, I followed the example of those RPing deities. Eventually I have learned it's not really a canon thing, but it's fun for me to do. Besides, most of the "deity" stuff is my character or characters hallucinating one thing or another. I know Cybil has sleep deprivation and PTSD issues, so I RP things a little crazier from her point of view because of the trauma and problems she's going through.

"For those of you referring to my continent as such, please do not refer to the entirety of the North American continent as a 'cesspit'. Cyneriice Northan, like many other nations on this piece of Earth, neither makes a fuss about existing colonies and nor does she colonize lands that others have asked not to be colonized. Regardless, these lands are the Northern Republic's, and it is fit for that country to do whatever it wants with its assets. "And your war was still unjustified, King Douglas. I regret not one moment of condemning it, nor eating your precious dead fish." - Queen Alysandra of House Lacroix, Ruler of Cyneriice Northan [center]- === -[/center] OOC: No offence meant to the player behind the character, Penchuk. Alysandra's just a mouthy character. ^^

"AGH! Watch where you're going, idiot! We almost hit a bird, for crimany's sake!" "I'm sorry, your highness - we're experiencing some turbulence," grunted the Northanic pilot, attempting to steady the flimsy excuse for a plane that Alysandra was being flown in. Cyneriice Northan lacked more advanced aircraft such as jets, meaning the WWII-era ex-fighter plane would have to do until the country was at a higher technological level. Unfortunately, absurdly long flights across half a continent and several Great Lakes were a bit strenuous on the plane; the thing had nearly gone into a dive over open water, which had ended with a near-miss by the pilot, much screaming and flailing, and Alysandra's luggage knocking out one of the servants that came along. Said servant now had an ice pack held to his temple, rather dazed but mostly unhurt. As the plane lurched to the side again, Alysandra giving a slight yelp, the plane passed through a small cloud, the FSA airstrip now able to be seen in the distance. The pilot sighed in relief, which Alysandra heard over the intercom, immediately assuming that the group was soon at their destination. She quickly assembled her small crew, wearing her typical, over-the-top royal dress, which had been repaired and resown from the stress they underwent during the Queen's exile. The Queen had been forced to walk [i]twenty miles[/i] over Arctic terrain to find help in a settlement - awesome-sauce royal clothing was [i]not[/i] made for that kind of strain! The pilot radioed in to the airstrip, signalling he was to land and that the Queen was with him. Alysandra quickly whipped out a brush and tidied up her hair, wanting to keep looking presentable (despite her garish outfit) for the Federated States' government.

Seeker stepped back, wary of the growl but still defencive of Cybil. His duty, first and foremost, was to protect Cybil's already-fragile psyche from outside influence; if any beings of a spiritual nature tried to crack open her mind again, it was Seeker's job to tear them apart. If it was a physical being inflicting some sort of trauma, then Seeker was to act as a shield, pulling Cybil to the safer depths of her mind and surrounding her with unconsciousness. Either way, if anything malevolent got in his way, then he'd fight to the point of non-existence in order to protect his Mistress - unlike Loki's other beasts, this one was meant to be benevolent, lest poor Cybil endure mental torture again. Cybil on the other hand, was now scared out of her wits. She was the only one who could hear the growl, and her mind only said one thing was the source: [i]Loki[/i]. The young woman scrunched up, trying to look smaller, not knowing where to go since she couldn't see the beast. It sounded like it was in front of her...but who couldn't say that was a trick?! What if it was just waiting to pounce, right on the other side of the bed, on the ceiling above her, or somewhere else close? "S-stay away!" cried Cybil, jabbing at the air with the pen. "I have a guard...dog...thingy! He's trained to kill!"

Seeker suddenly growled, abruptly turning around and baring his teeth. The minion's tail perked up, as did his ears - a sign of dominance. Cybil, startled to alertness, swung around in her chair, leaning back slightly toward the desk. It was cold all of a sudden in the room, and Cybil swore that there were footsteps. Her heart pounded. "H-hello...?" she called out. "I-is anyone th-there...?" Seeker, growling more loudly, took a step forward at snapped at the invisible presence. Where the silvery moonlight lit the floor, Cybil could see strange grooves in the floor's carpeting. She squeaked in fear, a chill running down her spine as she grabbed a pen for defence. (Yes, a pen didn't do much damage when it came to stabbing, but at least it was better than nothing.)

As Cybil lay with her head on her desk, part of the darkness seemed to become...blacker. The shadows twisted and morphed, the moonlight through the windows solidifying into a pair of white orbs. A pair of comically large, triangular teeth appeared in a human-like jaw, a pair of seemingly-feathered wings rising from the mass. There was a hissing sound, audible only to the ex-Queen, and human limbs pulled themselves out from the mass, followed by a slithering tail. [i]"Ruff?"[/i] chuffed the shadow-thing behind Cybil, which she could only see and hear. The Queen wearily rose her head, still either ignoring Luis or now completely oblivious to his presence. "Go away, Seeker..." Cybil said quietly. "I'm not in the mood." Loki's minion whined, its mass instantly shifting, oily and slick skin bubbling and warping like wax. Instead of its more humanoid, truer form, the beast now resembled something between a wolf and the German Shepherd it was the size of. Trotting over, it nuzzled at Cybil's side, only to be gently swatted away by the Queen. The woman was laying her head down on the desk again. "I'm fine."

[quote][font="Courier New"][i]- Private and Classified -[/i] To President Corrado Bazzani of the Italian Federation, But that is precisely why I wish to come! Surely your country is feeling the strain of the fascist uprising, and I'm sure you would appreciate an extra source of income from exports to Northan, or through some other deal we may come up with. My cousin, if she were here on the throne, would have it no other way, and neither would I. Guam sounds like a perfect place to meet. I look forward to what we come up with. It shall be a lovely experience, I do not doubt that. Sincerely, Queen Alysandra of House Lacroix, Queen of Cyneriice Northan[/font][/quote] [center]- === -[/center] OOC: Thanks for the correction. I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to keep it as it is; Alysandra's a bit more keen with music than with war heroes, I'm afraid. As I said to Jed, separate thread?

[quote][i]Pasta is delicious when it's made right. I'd very much think I'd like a recipe for it. Do you know of anyone who may have such?[/i][/quote] [center]~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~[/center] So Cybil was turning her attention to Europe. Alysandra had to admit, the thought of speaking privately with the Europeans and the Americans at the same time unnerved her; Cybil might have been a great pal with Australia, but others saw said country as ruthless and overbearing. The recent business with the bloc only confirmed this, and Alysandra chewed on a fingernail, wondering if she should go along with things. Then again, wasn't Hannah's husband from the Italian government? [i]...It can't hurt,[/i] thought Alysandra, and once again, took out her cousin's trusty typewriter. [quote][font="Courier New"][i]- Classified and Private -[/i] To the Government of the Italian Federation, I seek to schedule a future conference with your representative or representatives in order to spread good will towards our European brothers (the Northanic royal family has strong European bloodlines), as well as discuss trade and other such things. We of Cyneriice Northan think very highly of creating peaceful ties with Planet Bob's other major players. I can meet your representative(s) in a location of your choosing in the near future. At the moment, I have something planned, so if you could get back to me on a good date, I would be most appreciative. For the good of both our peoples, I look forward to the talks. Sincerely, Queen Alysandra of House Lacroix, Queen of Cyneriice Northan[/font][/quote]

"Okay, I'll admit that Nova Sol Terra committed a serious offence, and that Acca Dacca is war-weary and undeserving of such, but declaring an all-out war is taking a step too far. A compromise should have been found instead of a treaty being force-fed. Know where you fight in the world, Acca Dacca; my cousin is directly south of you, in Oceania. You will only appear more paranoid and sour in Cyneriice Northan's eyes if any more people are dragged into this." - A statement from Queen Alysandra of House Lacroix, Ruler of Cyneriice Northan [center]~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~[/center] [i]- Private -[/i] [quote][i]Harshness can be a bad thing. Friends are better. I should know.[/i][/quote] "I know, Cybby. I know."