The Assembly of the World's Nations (AWN)

OOC; The RP will play out as the following. It will start at the first ever Assembly meeting. The AWN was founded after weapons started to advance. Fearing that war would be apocalyptic, it was brought into creation as I way to divert hostilities and tensions, and try to work around problems in a more diplomatic way.
We will have these meetings and complete these meetings, talking about politics and all that boring stuff. After that, there will be posts representing events over the next year. These will mostly be summary posts, and can be as important or as trivial of facts as possible. You can report that your country has now started growing corn over rice. You can announce a pact between two nations. Details like these can start more than you think, and they'll be nice for discussion over meetings.
So Meetings-->Free Time-->Meetings-->Free Time-->So on. Make sure to bring hostilities and friendships from Free Time into meetings. Also make sure to RP as your nation's leader and/or anyone else attending the AWN Meeting. IF ANYONE WANTS TO JOIN IN AT ANY TIME, THEY MAY! HOWEVER, THEY HAVE TO SIGN UP IN THE SIGN UP TOPIC, THEY HAVE TO START AS A SMALLER NATION, AND THEY CANNOT JOIN A MEETING THAT HAS ALREADY BEGUN! You'll just RP a newly created nation.
Oh yeah, all the white space is anarchist land until someone claims it. That's a nice subject for discussion, no one likes the anarchists. All right, let's begin!

IC;
>13:00 March 24, 1335, Seventh World Calendar
>Ågestenfel, Franzheim, Asele
>Assembly of the World's Nations First Meeting

"Kor Lugerpremir! Kor Lugerpremir!"
Matju den Ladviken made his way down the catwalk, a pathway from his car to the Federal House, a massive limestone building in Ågestenfel's pristine central city. He was a man of about forty five, but his hair was still a youthful raven color, his face still handsome though jaded with creases. The catwalk was surrounded by reporters, shouting reporters with huge boom mics and blinding cameras, each trying to take a picture and get a word with the world leaders that walked by. What separated him from the ravenous media; a thick dome of bulletproof glass, glass installed a week prior to the meeting for safe transit. A car pulled up to the glass, and guards shoved the powerful individual inside, where he or she would walk with ease into the governmental building of the Aseler people.
Matju den Ladviken was not alone in his brisk stroll to the tall doors ahead. His fellow committee members weren't there, there being a rule of one world leader per nation at the Assembly, but his bodyguards were there, his two assistants following behind him nervously. Every once in a while, Veronika Klop would speak into an earpiece, a constant confirmation of safety, even after Ladviken had walked into the building. More men and women with guns surrounded Ladviken. He entered the spacious conference room with ease.
Ladviken was not a hated ruler by most, but radical Tsetsians never enjoyed an Aseler president. He sighed, looking out the conference room window to the streets below. It was raining, a muggy day of brumous streets and skies. A perfect day to chat indoors.
"Prepare some alcohol, dear," he told his assistant, a tall woman named Vera Bukner. The other one, Uve Holtz, looked up from her papers.
"What about me, sir?"
"Tell me when they come."
The conference room was mostly taken up by the large ovular table in its center. Office chairs, wheels on the legs, dotted its perimeter, and a television was perched on the wall farthest from the door. Before each table was a card, a friendly "Nomen, at vi'venamoden ušt et Asele!", written below it in the leaders' foreign tongues, "Hello, and we welcome you to Asele."

An Emperor was always followed by pomp and ceremony, but Lansong Shou, the 125th Emperor of his bloodline, never had much patience for all of that.

It was raining as he got out of his transport and into the domed catwalk, preceded and followed by his two personal guards. What guards they were. Dressed in black silks, accentuated with white, with fearsome dragon masks and elegantly made shortswords sheathed across their backs. Eunuchs, trained from birth, but they were more of a ceremonious distraction in this day and age than real guards. The real guards were planted all over the city, and while those swords were quite nice to look at, both of them carried submachine guns concealed inside their traditional costumes.

In Lansong, with a court so soaked in treachery and distrust, you could never take half-measures when it came to security. That was why he was still alive in his old age. The Aselers seemed to try and follow their example.

He did not look so much like the kind of Emperor you'd see in storybooks. He was bespectacled, small, and he had an average man's face, like they'd pulled a Langese man off the street and just dressed him in elaborate robes.

"The Enns would have us believe they rule this country," he said in his native tongue with a small soft smile, seemingly to no one in particular. His eunuchs had no tongues and did not make the best conversation. He rapped his knuckles across the glass, bulletproof dome that protected them from the outside world, ignoring the reporters that shouted at him. "But they live in fear of their subjects. Very interesting. Don't you agree, Mei?"

A woman followed him out of the car and after the last eunuch, in a black cheongsam patterned with white lotus flowers.

Short black hair with a white lotus resting on her head, a traditional dress, heels, curves, and a pretty face. Even so, she didn't seem feminine. Maybe it was her cold, hard expression, or the way she carried herself like a soldier going off to battle. She didn't smile back at her father's warm expression. "It's just for protection, Your Majesty," the Princess answered flatly. "Taking precautions isn't cowardice."

"We have many troublesome peoples under our rule as well, Mei," he said, as if she needed reminding. Emperor Shou leaned in close as she caught up to him. "But have I ever shielded myself from them?"

His eyes seemed to twinkle. Lansong had a long history of assassinations, rebellions, civil wars, and inter-dynastic conflict. Brothers, sisters, cousins, mothers, fathers, and everyone in-between had been killing each other in his family since the dawn of the nation itself. So far, no one had assassinated Emperor Shou.

"But they've made attempts on His Majesty's life before," Mei answered, her tone not changing. Still, she was staring at him now, some gears turning behind those hard black eyes. The Emperor was often posing challenges and riddles to his children. To Mei, they were childish, but if she ever wanted to ascend his throne one day...

His smile broadened. "Oh yes. They certainly have."

---

---

They entered the conference room soon enough, their presence no doubt announced beforehand. The Emperor bowed his head at the foot of the conference table, flanked by his two guards. Princess Mei showed no such courtesy.

"All my warm greetings, Lugerpremier," he addressed in Ennish, with only the hint of an accent. "You will forgive me if I do not bow. The rain makes my old bones grow stiff and stubborn."

A eunuch stepped forward to pull a chair out for him, but the Emperor waved him away and pulled it out himself, settling down with a small grunt. "Ah, yes," he said, suddenly remembering. "This is my firstborn, the Princess Mei of Lansong. I hope you do not mind her presence."

Mei only nodded.

"Please allow her the honor of sitting next to you, Lugerpremier. She has been practicing her Ennish just for this trip."

A very old woman with a stern face strode through the catwalk, her green eyes set in a natural glare. A ivory cane as in her right hand, the gold leaf designs that adorned the cane glittered at every flash of the camera. The Hoca representative wore a white blouse with a straight black jacket fastened with a single gold button, the pants matched the jacket, ironed with perfection.

One would think that a lady as old as her couldn't possibly be as mobile as her. But here was a 97 year old woman, while if someone looked at her, the wrinkles may seem to give away her age, however, only relying on a cane, she moved pretty fast. This woman was Wacor of Hoca. Normally, there was another two people in her council, but due to the rule, they couldn't join her. Which was fine with her because she would have to translate everything said to them.

The old woman's assistant followed close behind, her light brown eyes scanned the crowds. She wore a black blouse and a tight knee length skirt. Brown hair pulled into a bun, she held a briefcase and a clipboard.

After getting past the catwalk, the older woman entered the Federal House, glad to have that over with. Nodding towards the other leaders in the room she approached the two, picking the seat next to the Lansong Emperor, her assistant standing respectfully behind her. While Wacor listened in quietly, expecting to be ignored by the other ignorant countries who would be joining soon.

Now the ruler of Vouland, Lord Pachis, made his way towards the conference room, ignoring everyone on the other side of the bulletproof glass that encased the catwalk he and his lone bodyguard walked along.

"I hope you've been practicing your Ennish. Last thing we'd want is for you to offend someone unintentionally and start a firefight," the bodyguard with a submachine gun slung over his back and a pistol in a holster at his side joked.

"Trust me, if I offend someone, it'll have been on purpose," Lord Pachis replied with a sly grin. "Not that I plan to offend anyone, of course. That rarely works out well diplomatically."

Lord Pachis was both recently elected and young, ruling his extremely populous country at only 23. He nearly died just as young, an attempt on his life having been made on only his second day as Lord. It was believed the assassin was from a foreign country, one whose leader was hopefully not present. If he or she was, however, Lord Pachis would certainly confront him about the event, regardless of how many other world leaders may be present.

The two soon arrived at the conference room, and Lord Pachis entered with his bodyguard close behind. He nodded to the leaders currently sitting in the room, before taking a seat across from the Langese Emperor. His bodyguard stood a few feet behind him, his arms crossed behind his back.