hot emperor on emperor action
Jun. 4th, 2016 08:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[ Gregor had fought a long, hard slog to get Edrehasivar here.
Understandably, his people were reluctant to relinquish their emperor at all, much less on a multi-week trans-galactic voyage through two wormhole jumps to a frighteningly advanced militaristic empire that could stomp them flat and was refraining out of the goodness of one very determined Emperor's heart. Said emperor isn't actually sure what he's expecting from the visiting one; it's not as if he's ever hosted one before, the only other in the Nexus that he's aware of being the Cetagandan Emperor Fletchir Giaja, who he's not about to invite to tea, much less to be hosted by the Imperial Residence for an extended stay and hopeful opening of cordial, formalized relations.
Vorbarr Sultana, of course, pulls out all the stops, wanting to impress the only possible audience in existence that will think of them as more advanced rather than less. For once, they aren't the backwater barbarians, and it pulls out the best in those who are on board with a peaceful sponsorship of the planet. There is respectful fanfare-- those apt to scorn what will be seen as a mutant kept carefully away by ImpSec-- and with some pomp and circumstance Edrehasivar and his retinue are escorted to Vorhartung Castle, a towering gray structure meant to withstand bombardments looming over graceful, serviceable bridges across wide rivers.
Gregor receives them in a formal receiving room, one papered with yellow silk damask and set with only two pintucked stately armchairs and a side table. A secretary of his is off in the corner seated at a desk, but she has an entirely anachronistic tablet-pad as her notetaking device, and the full set of sober-faced Armsmen that loom along the walls are equipped with stunners instead of swords.
Emperor Vorbarra himself is dressed in the always-appropriate suit of his house, black with silver edging and delicate embroidery of olive leaves sparsely along the cuffs and collar. He's heard tell that the elves (and goblins?) are an extravagant sort, more like Cetagandans, and moreover that Edrehasivar himself is quite young and new to the throne, comparatively speaking. Gregor is beyond curious, despite himself, to finally be meeting one of the very few beings that could ever be called his peer. He's poured over the cultural and political reports coming in from ImpSec with assiduous interest. ]
Welcome to Vorbarr Sultana, Your Imperial Serenity, [ he says in greeting, in his characteristic quieter tones, but Gregor is upright and almost placid in demeanor, a man utterly unruffled by circumstances. Curiosity neatly packed away for the time being, until he gets a sense of him. Above all else, he is going to require his goodwill and cooperation to secure a nonviolent resolution. ]
It is Our sincerest hope that We may receive you in the spirit of friendship and cooperation to come. If you have need of anything during your stay, please bring it to Our attention personally.
Understandably, his people were reluctant to relinquish their emperor at all, much less on a multi-week trans-galactic voyage through two wormhole jumps to a frighteningly advanced militaristic empire that could stomp them flat and was refraining out of the goodness of one very determined Emperor's heart. Said emperor isn't actually sure what he's expecting from the visiting one; it's not as if he's ever hosted one before, the only other in the Nexus that he's aware of being the Cetagandan Emperor Fletchir Giaja, who he's not about to invite to tea, much less to be hosted by the Imperial Residence for an extended stay and hopeful opening of cordial, formalized relations.
Vorbarr Sultana, of course, pulls out all the stops, wanting to impress the only possible audience in existence that will think of them as more advanced rather than less. For once, they aren't the backwater barbarians, and it pulls out the best in those who are on board with a peaceful sponsorship of the planet. There is respectful fanfare-- those apt to scorn what will be seen as a mutant kept carefully away by ImpSec-- and with some pomp and circumstance Edrehasivar and his retinue are escorted to Vorhartung Castle, a towering gray structure meant to withstand bombardments looming over graceful, serviceable bridges across wide rivers.
Gregor receives them in a formal receiving room, one papered with yellow silk damask and set with only two pintucked stately armchairs and a side table. A secretary of his is off in the corner seated at a desk, but she has an entirely anachronistic tablet-pad as her notetaking device, and the full set of sober-faced Armsmen that loom along the walls are equipped with stunners instead of swords.
Emperor Vorbarra himself is dressed in the always-appropriate suit of his house, black with silver edging and delicate embroidery of olive leaves sparsely along the cuffs and collar. He's heard tell that the elves (and goblins?) are an extravagant sort, more like Cetagandans, and moreover that Edrehasivar himself is quite young and new to the throne, comparatively speaking. Gregor is beyond curious, despite himself, to finally be meeting one of the very few beings that could ever be called his peer. He's poured over the cultural and political reports coming in from ImpSec with assiduous interest. ]
Welcome to Vorbarr Sultana, Your Imperial Serenity, [ he says in greeting, in his characteristic quieter tones, but Gregor is upright and almost placid in demeanor, a man utterly unruffled by circumstances. Curiosity neatly packed away for the time being, until he gets a sense of him. Above all else, he is going to require his goodwill and cooperation to secure a nonviolent resolution. ]
It is Our sincerest hope that We may receive you in the spirit of friendship and cooperation to come. If you have need of anything during your stay, please bring it to Our attention personally.