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The Meeting of Mainz


Hereno
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[Private]

The Japanese foreign ministry was contacted by the Saxon foreign ministry earlier this evening. Via secure cable, the Japanese were asked to send a diplomat to the Saxon city of Mainz. They would be met at an undisclosed, private location within the city to discuss joint business ventures and bilateral foreign relations.
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  • 2 weeks later...

"Hello, Mr.... Keh...ki... Kimerrra?" the voice, which came only from darkness, laughed. "I apologize but not many of us are very familiar with the Japanese."

An awkward silence came over the diplomat.

"Please, step into the light and introduce yourself."

The dark warehouse had a single table with two chairs, one on either side, illuminated by a spotlight from the ceiling.

"Go on, then. Make yourself comfortable. Madam President's aide will be here shortly to discuss with you, and she has sent an apology for the wait. Do you prefer coffee or tea? And how do you like it?"

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The location chosen was... unexpected to say the least, hopefully not all diplomatic meetings would be held in seedy warehouses like a drug deal. " key-murr-ah, no apologies needing, I too have trouble with western names at times. Tea, strong please. It's no problem of course, our jets tend to be a bit faster than most and it always throws people off."

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A door jutted open, quickly punctuating the sentence of the Japanese diplomat.

"That's not a problem. Thank you for joining us."

The silhouette was vaguely female, but indeterminate. The blinding light would make it hard to see anything at all, until the door slammed shut, seemingly by itself. A dirty-blonde white woman in a burgundy robe was sitting on the metal chair before him, all but her bottom lip and chin concealed by the heavy fabric.

She spoke again.

"Your tea is ready."

Without warning, the table began to vibrate. Under the Japanese diplomat's hand, a square of table disappeared. He jumped at the lack of feeling, moving his hand to uncover a delicious cup of tea coming out of the bottomless hole in the table. If the diplomat were to look under the table, he would be even more bewildered, as the hard plastic table was sitting several feet off of the ground, and was only perhaps an inch thick itself.

He couldn't see her eyes, but the diplomat would be able to tell that the President's aide was staring at him, although how she knew where his eyes actually were remains a mystery.

Edited by Hereno
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