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In Our Darkest Hour...There You Were


Sarah Tintagyl
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OOC: The following nations are invited to attend

Dranagg, Molakia, Greater Croatia. New Cymru, Annihilation, Yuktobania, Buryatia, The Dragon Empire, The Khmer Empire, Proctincia, Prussia,Louisiana,Pangong,United Mechodamian States, Promised Land, Yamato,Glorious Aotearoa Also I believe most of you are already in Brisbane so an arrival isn't that hard.

Also if you want in...and didn't said aid...just PM me..apparently there was a lot more support than I had anticipated.

IC:

Unlike most wars, there was normally years upon years of reconstruction, rebuilding, rubble, and gravel. This wasn't the case in Brisbane, sure there were a few areas where buildings had collapsed where the missiles had hit, but other than that the look of the city hadn't change. The heart however had been replaced by an empty hole, a gaping absence of people and overall happiness and it was this change that would be the hardest to adjust to for the people of Brisbane and for the Commonwealth in general.

The world, save for a few nations, had been extremely supportive of the loss that the Hansa had felt in its second war. According to Sarah, she had inherited a country that had a gigantic target on its capital city. But she endured and the people endured, no one could ask for more from them. However, the amount of aid that had poured into the city was more than she could ever have imagined. Medics, clergymen, and other humanitarian aid systems, in addition to the White Cross worked around the clock to bring the city back to some form of normalcy and by and by, it was beginning to work. The lives would never come back, Elysium was there for that reminder, but out of the ashes Sarah sought to create something new. It was being worked in Europe presently, bringing together a diverse world, through a common goal. Humanism in all forms had been something she had believed in and what was being done to her very country was proof of that.

"This is where we can begin."

It was an informal meeting as it was formal. The messages had been sent to the respected leaders, many of whom were already in Brisbane proper, tending for the sick and dying. But Sarah requested them to meet her at a long string of park benches that lined the hill overlooking the Brisbane River. There was no need for formalities right now. She wanted to thank them, she wanted to promise them that she would be there for them if they needed it, she wanted to create an era of friendship.

Edited by Sarah Tintagyl
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Albert Tanzband leaned against a nearby tree. He wore sunglasses to hide the obvious tears streaming down his face.

Looking at the harbor, he let out a deep sigh and rustled around his pockets to find a vintage Ubersteinian cigar.

"With all the suffering in the world...we remain."

He let out the rich smoke and watched it wave in the breeze.

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Evan Hiley was laying face-up on a park bench, his eyes closed and thinking deep. On either side of the bench (one at his head, one at his feet) stood mute, statuesque bodyguards in suits and dark sunglasses. Their hands crossed in front, equally tall and equally wide they looked like twins. Well, they were - the Ficci twins. But that's not the point. Evan was practically asleep, visions of soldiers shooting at his fiance while she hung onto him at the helicopter haunting the edges of his vision.

"When's this gonna start, boys?" He asked sleepily.

"No idea, sir," The Ficci twins replied in sync.

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Warner was in a bad mood, and it showed. He stumbled near the park, collapsed on a bench and said, "GOD my head hurts! Do any of you people know what it's like to emerge from a civil war after serving in the so-called 'Patriotic War'? It SUCKS, that's what it feels like." Two soldiers rushed to get near him. "Are you alright Dictator Guinee?" Warner clutched his head and waved him away, saying, "Just wake me up when it starts...I need beer..." The two soldiers looked at each other, shrugged and one went of in search of alchohol. The other stood guard, waiting for the meeting to start.

Edited by N Reeki
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Ishima looked with spite at the bum that was lying on the bench. From the elaborate tattoos, he could tell that it was the infamous Evan Hiley, the Merchant of Debt (or was it Death?), possibly the greatest scum on the face of the planet. His blood boiled as he considered what that rascal might have done to her.

Turning around, he spotted Albert Tanzband smoking. Coming over, he placed a hand on the Kaiser's shoulder.

"You have fought well for what is right, musuko. Do not let your sorrows overtake you."

Yes, although this one was also probably did something, he could accept it, for there was no other match that he could think of. Conservative, traditionalist, philosophical, gentle. A perfect foil for the unworthy one.

Edited by Sumeragi
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OOC: DESK, APPLY DIRECTLY TO THE FOREHEAD

OOC: heh heh...nice.

IC: General Davies thought this thing important enough to attend in person.

As he arrived at the row of park benches, he took in at a glance what people were already there--Evan Hiley (AKA the Merchant of Death), Albert Tanzband, Madame Unicorn...it was quite the Motley Crew. These were, for the most part, people who loved or at least respected Sarah Tintagyl, though he couldn't speak for certain about some of them--after all, he was no mind reader.

He was not wearing a dress uniform, but rather a uniform, desert camoflage to be precise.

He looked away from the gathered crowd as he leaned against the back of an unoccupied bench, and sighed. "If only we could have done more," he muttered quietly. He wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, but he didn't care if someone heard him, either.

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How could decline the thanks Sarah, of Hansa? Generalissimo was there long before the meeting started, even if it wasn’t necessary.

Attired in his finest paramilitary uniform of indeterminate rank (with accompanying Castro hat and trademark cigar) Generalissimo

lurked in the back, trying to avoid excessive attention.

Edited by Generalissimo
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Luis De Luit came in, stood with Sarah Tintagyl. He knew both Evan Hiley and Tanzband by sight; in the case of Tanzband, he knew him quite well from his sojourn in Europe. He did not acknowledge either one; instead he stood by the Lady's side, his face a mask, his presence meant to reassure.

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Noticing the ever-paranoid Generalissimo, all that Ryu could think of was how Yuriko could put up with him. (She was still over in the Bering, feasting on king crabs)

As for De Luit. Ishima couldn't form an opinion about hin yet. Yes, the Keeper was honorable, but would such a die-hard soldier be able to keep her happy? Perhaps not, as what happened with Larsa. But hat is what will have to be seen in the future.

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Nikolai Romanov takes a seat, a decent distance away from the rest. He eyes the "Merchant of Death" with a somewhat angry look. He lights his 25th cancer stick of the day and tries to relax, the mass of the days and weeks past coming to him.

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The BNS Imperator remained just off shore from Brisbane as the Humanitarian Aid Division rushed about delivering supplies and coordinating relief work with the Hanseatic Authorities, Prince Yuri stood on the bridge of the ship overseeing the unloading when an officer handed him a note. After he scanned the message a few times, he placed his deputy in command and headed for the shore.

With the note in hand, Prince Yuri arrived at the meeting venue shortly after leaving the ship. He glanced for a moment at each of the other leaders present, before he introduced himself:

“I am Yuri Vladimirovich Guttorp-Farone-Zenn, Former Crown Prince of Vaule. I represent the government of the United Kingdom of Buryatia.”

Without another word, Prince Yuri takes his seat.

Edited by Imperator Azenquor
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Ishima looked with spite at the bum that was lying on the bench. From the elaborate tattoos, he could tell that it was the infamous Evan Hiley, the Merchant of Debt (or was it Death?), possibly the greatest scum on the face of the planet. His blood boiled as he considered what that rascal might have done to her.

"Why is that man looking at me?" Evan asked, his eyes still quite closed and his mind drifting.

"Don't know, sir," said Ficci.

"Would you like me to find out, sir?" Ficci asked.

Nikolai Romanov takes a seat, a decent distance away from the rest. He eyes the "Merchant of Death" with a somewhat angry look. He lights his 25th cancer stick of the day and tries to relax, the mass of the days and weeks past coming to him.

"Now, what is that man looking at me?"

"I believe that you once beat him in a flying match, sir." Ficci answered.

"Very good. Now, what about that man?"

"That man, sir?" Asked Ficci.

"Indeed."

As Evan didn't even make a physical motion to point out De Luit, they both blinked for a moment.

"Ah, sir," the Ficcis said in unison.

"Yeah."

"That is Luis De Luit. I don't believe you have met, sir," Ficci responded.

"Guess we'll have to fix that."

Edited by Sargun
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12692HoneHarawira.jpg

The Duke was quiet. His polished air and snappy suit made a stak contrast to his dark skin. He took off his sunglasses, although his security detail did not. Avoiding looking at anyone in particular, he made his way to his seat, and passively observed the room.

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Sensing that Mr. Debt might be up to something, Ishima took Albert by the arms and half-dragged him to where Sarah and De Luit was standing. The four needed to be together, for there was a bond between them that was deeper than most. He'll have to makle sure he got Ablert and himself seats next to or in front of Sarah.

When he got to where the Lady Protector was, he gave a faint smile.

“It was nice of you to invite us. Have you been feeling well?”

OOC: There's a reason for the Debt joke. You'll see it in Setting of the Ways.

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