The Coronation of Queen Rachel

Nyx trailed along, keeping close to Aurel. Not one to generally be quite this clingy, she was usually rather self-sufficient; alas, the paparazzi were ALL over this one. Any cameraman who was risky enough to tail Aurel, international most wanted #1, was doing exactly that, snapping picture after picture with their bright flashy cameras. Nyx hated it so... Her eyes, given her chimeric nature, were delicate, sensitive to the flashes, and she had to hold them closed so tight that when she opened them, they'd always linger in darkness. She was therefore trying to keep up with Aurel by sense of touch, not daring to open her eyes too often. Hearing enough of the flashes, she irrately turned to one of the men, kicked him as hard as she could in the shin, causing him to drop his camera and cry out in pain, and glared at the rest, the flashes having stopped temporarily. "Stop taking pictures, go away! Shoo, shoo!" Waving her hands in the air, she blinked and shook her head, flustered a bit, as one last photo was snapped, probably by some arrogant moron who'd wanted a picture of the crazy little girl who had to fight all of Aurel's battles for him, behind the scenes, because he was secretly allergic to radioactive jellyfish found in coimmon everyday objects. Furthermore, Aurel and the girl were probably cousins, and most likely married, in secret. At least, that's what the most outlandish of the gossip magazines would say. Idiots.

Carrying on, she gave Aurel some more space now, content that the photographers were gone, banished by her rather rude actions, and followed him through the mingling crowds, as she rubbed at her eyes, still slightly off-set by the bright flashing lights. Some lady screamed, probably terrified of Aurel, and Nyx heard a few people panic and run away. Looking up at Aurel, she noted he was perfectly calm, basking in it, in fact. That was very Aurel-ish. Nyx hadn't really been actively seeking proof that Aurel was himself since their talk, but the occasional reassurance was a good thing. The fact that he was acting like himself was a plus too; he seemed to be sliding back into his groove, which made Nyx happy, seeing him in a good mood like today.

In addition, Nyx was actually kind of glad to be at the coronation. Like many, many, many little girls, she had, at one point or another, wanted to be a princess. And, of course, she kind of was, unlike most of the other little girls with similar wishes. Dressed up in a pink dress, adorned with carnations and pink roses, with fluffy lace at the bottom, it certainly befitted a princess. Then, of course, there was a sense of royalty that came with well... being surrounded by it. Leaders of most nations, if not all nations, were present, and with them came family, friends, and their bodyguards. In addition, there were noblemen, rich people, and other high-class personalities. And above all, Aurel was present. To Nyx, Aurel was king of the world; he certainly fit the role. So, by extension, shouldn't she get to be princess of the world? Mmhmm, she could say that.

Not out loud, though; for one, it'd seem random, from out of nowhere, kind of awkward, and a bit too conceited. But also, Aurel had stopped near the Amestrian chancellor. As Nyx approached beside Aurel, she nodded politely to Hans, not really bothering to speak. Aurel spoke to him, in that soft tone of his, a chilling voice that may well have scared people, were they not strong enough of heart to hear it. Or at least, Nyx saw it that way. Well, not in relation to herself; she was used to it, she liked that voice. The words were certainly interesting, though, as it was, indeed, a bold statement; even Nyx knew that much. So she inquired Hans with large eyes of purple, a curious expression written on her face, wings folded back, hands behind her. How DID you survive? Not that she knew exactly what it was he HAD survived, that is.

Screams, shouts, people in fear. How delightful. Despite how much they despised him, they sure showed their respect, making sure not to get his clothes dirty or to stand in his way to trip him. At least, that's how Tatyana saw it. The mass of people quivered and whimpered like pathetic infants without their mothers or rather a sad child being caught in the act. Tremble, move away from sight. So misguided most people were. Her nose twitched at the Creta air. She visited here just recently to catch up with a friend of hers and as requested, she would come along to the coronation. Right now, Creta was more of her home, while she was being analyzed. She couldn't blame anyone for their suspicions of her. No file were around, head social security number was unregistered, her birth certificate hadn't been brought for obvious reasons, but her license was legitimate. It was the only proof she really needed and yet, it too could have been forged. Now was not the time for such thoughts.

Tatyana trailed behind Nyx and Aurelius, keeping her keen eye open for this family of hers. That was right, this was her family, though they hadn't accepted her fully yet. She couldn't blame them, either and it wasn't like she could share the memories she had in her head. Some spots could not be touched or the whole world she knew would be unraveled and that would just be- most unfortunate. Still, she had to go back home sometime, but for now, she was caught up in her miniature loop. Most people would die to be in the past, but truly it was a complex matter she disliked getting sucked up in. She was nearly done with errands, she'd have to confront Aurelius soon, to go home.

Nevertheless, she was a bit enthused to attend the coronation of Queen Rachel. Who had been before her? It had been D-something? Tatyana read up on it in her history books, but the name didn't flip a switch. She'd think of it later. Strange how things in her classes had never bothered her before this, but now, she was sucked into some strange world still building hers. Again, her mind was wandering, her hands moving to dust off her dress.

Brilliant dark colors, a misty rose color, mixed beneath a jacket of shining dark gray. Her dress itself clung tight to her chest then slid down her waist, giving a tight, but loose fit. A pattern of swirls crossed only half of her lap and looked like a breath of wind on the dark rose fabric. The fabric hung to her knees and the jacket just barely pressed to her stomach. Today she'd given her hair a bit of a curl, made herself presentable. The most important thing to wear, was her smile. The gentle and mischievous grin she had never spoke of anything. Even as the paparazzi trailed them and flashed pictures, she said nothing, didn't bother looking at them and simply walked, as if she'd practiced this whole her life. In an odd way she had, but this was different.

At last lovely Nyx had turned and gave them a what-for. Poor Nyx, Tatyana could tell the lights were flashing and burning her eyes. Tatyana couldn't help but laugh lightly at Nyx's fury at them. They seemed to make a line straight for a man who looked over. Tatyana had seen him before in her books before. He was a bit more familiar to her mind; Chancellor Hans Reinhardt. Now this was a find for her, akin to meeting someone nearly famous. He was akin to the famous leaders of Amestris in the past. How.. interesting. "Hm, I wonder just how you manged to survive," Aurelius had asked. Tatyana simply mused. This conversation had meaning she couldn't place, so she just stood there, one arm over her chest and the other cupping her chin. A thoughtful look glazed her face, watching and waiting, while making sure to stand close to Nyx. Funny how roles could change so easily. Tatyana had never been an older sister before, but the situation clicked swiftly, she felt the protective instinct and she would make sure that no one tried bothering either of them, while conversations would be had. It wasn't like anyone WOULD try anything, but she had no reason to believe they wouldn't.

Snazzy suit? Check. Awesome shades? Check. Hair gel and sweet-ass cologne? Check. He was goin' in style tonight, baby. Except Shu was missing; not missing per say, just that she wasn't here. Right now. With him. Really, after re-encountering Alisa the other day, he was practically attached at the hip to the short Ishvallan (which would be awkward. Definitely). Bring your fiancé to work day? Yes. It happened. Except no one really knew they were engaged. Until he blurted it out by accident offhandedly. Spread like wildfire it did, and he was commissioned by a six pack of blue moon to stand on top of a filing cabinet and announce to all of South City HQ over the loud speaker that he and Shula Brighton were getting married. ...Yeah. He was really drunk that night. Passed out wearing gloves on his feet and had somehow obtained a lime green streak of hair dye in the brighter section of his dirty blond hair. Sun bleached bastards, why'd they have to turn lighter and influence his drunken mind?! Genius. Let's add some crazy color BECAUSE I CAN. Noooo. It didn't work like that, Spade. He was starting to really sound like some PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) junkie. But in all honestly, he felt looser (after the hangover). Because, like, there was just this thing about announcing positive things to a bunch of people that kind of made him happy. He didn't really know why, but he was grinning like a fool right now because of it.

He lit up a cigarette the second he exited his limousine, fashionably late as always. His old, plain, beat up, gone-through-hell-and-back, dented Zippo flipped closed with that classy metallic click that potentially fucked with people's minds. Just not today. He was just smoking today. No inception of any sort. Mingling like a smokestack in lucid sky no longer lucid. Glancing up at the blue, he sucked in a rush of nicotine. Ah. Just like that. He let fall his jade green eyes, looking down and to the side of his polished black dress shoes. Oh regal red carpet, why so cliché? He hardly fit in with the crowd of pretentious, grandiose, high strung--hah! He guessed that was why they were called high society. Made perfect sense. However, with high society came...quality booze. HELL YEAH BRING IT ON. What, you guys thought he came to accompany Chancellor Hans to make sure he was out of danger from a man that was supposed to be dead so why the fuck was he standing right there next to Hans looking smug!? FUCK. Aurelius was alive?! What--just what? What was this? H-how? He...he saw the man get shot--no, he saw the man SHOOT HIMSELF on the top of Central Head Quarters like a deranged fuck. Did this man ever die?! He had inklings. Like, how could a primpous bitch like Vanity manage to take control of Fort Briggs and outsmart someone as keen as Daigoro Ito? And then trap them all in Drachma, kill them in a way their bodies can't be recovered, and then capture the rest and hold them in the fort as prisoners of war? Really? Vanity? No, it just didn't fit her description. No one except that man right there could outsmart the Briggs Brigade. Needless to say North City was a little dangerous right now. They had their work cut out for them. But right now...he really needed a drink.

Funeral after funeral. Now a puny paper protecting that immortal of a man--that ferocious undying foul exposition of a human being. By god, he sure hoped that hand didn't dare touch the Chancellor. Don't make him incept the bastard again (it worked last time). No, he'd do far worse this time. Even if he didn't like the ice queen of Fort Briggs, he still respected her. And that redhead of hers was brilliant in scheming. They were a good team. It was bridging on fuck-that-puny-paper-saying-we-can't-kill-Aurelius to the point were Spade was strangling his box of cigs. God, he hoped he didn't crush any of the expensive pieces of-- Like a holy light shining down upon his ravaged mind, the bar came into view. Or perhaps those were just the cameras flashing, but still! His eyes lit up and he essentially beelined it. What were all these people doing if not indulging themselves on the selection?! It was a waste; alas, more for him.

The rungs of the Hind below touched onto the ground and the craft made a few tremors before becoming still, naught but the gently-slowing whirring of the rotors above and the crisp burning of the cigar in the revolutionary's hand accompanying the atmosphere. The smoke drifted from his nostrils and his mouth with a slow and almost calm outwards movement, not so much a thick cloud, but numerous grey-black tendrils.

A hearty chuckle rose from his chest, and the man shook his head as the rotors stilled, and Noman Z. Godslayer, the revolutionary, and the honoured guest, looked out over the skyline. "Creta." He stated, shaking his head and standing up, cigar held firmly between his lips, long black hair hanging over his synthetic eye and the sun refracting off of his glimmering, olive complexion. "How I loathe this place." The revolutionary grunted, and the faintest twinkle of an exasperated smile pierced the grumpy-commander facade.

He looked to the pilot and inclined his head, nodding. "Get out. See the sights. Taste the fine, bland cuisine that London has to offer. Enjoy yourself, Mitya." He smirked. "Cause I sure as hell won't." With that, he leapt from the floor of the helicopter down onto the helipad, grasping his white longcoat as he flung his body, and pulling it on over a flexible and yet somehow 'stylish' kevlar vest beneath it, painted a dull grey-white, over a white shirt and black tie hanging down. Practical, yet warm, comfortable, and more pointlessly formal than he was used to - or pleased with.

They'd landed on a great helipad around three miles away from the coronation. Mitya, garbed in his own semi-formal clothing, quickly sidled away into the building and began his descent down to the ground floor, whilst Noman looked out over the "greatest city in the world", the capital of his birthplace, and a country he held nothing but spite and hatred for.

So, why did he hate it? This was a country that had birthed him. That had made him, forged him in the grand inferno of battle and war. Surely, for as far as he had come: he should have been grateful. And not a day went by that he didn't consider this quandary: but all-too-quickly, it had been stamped out.

From the outset, Creta had been a country racked with controversy and turmoil. There was no peace, no nature, no simple adoration: beneath the city in Carraig and the infrastructure, you had rolling green hills, great forests, and the coasts. Underlying the Esparian regime was golden sand and true inner sanctity. Even underneath Drachma's boorish leadership was a land so freezing yet so peaceful and calm. But no matter where you ventured in Creta, the relentless boots of humanity had trampled over almost every last square inch of nature: it hadn't become a network of cities and towns and communities. All Creta had to its name was industry.

It was a country that had birthed him, then murdered his family. Accepted him into its military ranks, then cast him out when he lost his arms. It was a country that paid no respect to the underclass. It was capitalism at its worse, where everyone lusted for more and no-one could truly be content. It was such an ignorant society that didn't care for the downtrodden and the depressed. And after you've been at both ends of the spectrum, suddenly, "the great Cretan dream" loses its lustre and shine.

This was the country that had birthed him from its great womb of industry then killed him before he was even able to fully spread his wings.

He took the last pull of the cigar and exhaled the thick smoke into the summer winds - even in July, upon the skyscraper, the gales were harsh in London. He spat out the smoke as if it were some vile poison, even being in Creta worsening every experience dramatically, and then used his thumb and forefinger to flick the end off the cigar off the edge and down into the network of cars, buses, and ignorant businessmen below.

Then he turned on his heel and began to make his way down to the lobby. It was time to make his appearance: and once he had done that, he could promptly leave.

Ahhhh, limos. Limos were niiiiiiiiice. Creta was niiiiiiiiiice. It was so niiiiiiiiiiiiice here, where all the Cretans were niiiiiiiiiiice. No, Jay didn't want to massacre them all. Jay was being niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice. Nice, nice, nice, nice, nice! NICE NICE NICE!!~ She didn't WANT to be nice, of course!~ But Hans SPECIFICALLY told her to be nice, so she would be! She needed to forgive Creta anyways, it was like, the past, and if EVERYONE ELSE IN AMESTRIS had gotten over it, she should too. WAR IS FOR BUT AN INSTANT, WHILE BOOZE-INDUCED HAPPY IS FOREVER~ She stepped out of the nice limo onto the nice red carpet, directly after Spade. Spade looked nice. He was a sharp-dressed man, after all, and for that reason, among others, Jay admired him to pieces. And look at her! In an elegant, but still sexy, red dress, with one of those nice orange silk scarves slung over her shoulders, she looked FASHIONABLE. Not to mention the nice gold bangles and the diamond necklaces. To top it all off, she had ear rings of ruby, and totally looked (or rather, felt, and possibly looked) like a model, right off the runway.

As she stepped out of the vehicle, leaning on a crutch, thanks to the jeep and all, she waved and grinned at her ADORING FANS. Or rather, the fistful of photographers wanting pictures of everyone. And within moments, fancy waiters walking around handed her a flute of champagne!? Oh, this was the life... She could get used to high society. Sipping her champagne, which WAS so crisp, she tailed along behind Spade as he headed towards-ish Hans, or at least, stared at him and Aurela lot. OH. Aurel was there? Neat. She coulda swore he'd died, but then again, she hadn't seen it. Hospital and all. She was half-tempted to wave, but she DID, of course, recall the fact he'd KIND OF, bombed the holy crap out of Amestris, so it'd feel a little awkward. Oh, and the fact Spade seemed ready to butcher him, even then. Hans was likely thinking the same. AH WELL. She deigned not to wave at Aurel. Instead, she glanced at Spade, taking a sip more of champagne, thus emptying the flute, and waving her glass for a refill.

Noting that he was OBVIOUSLY deeply in thought or something, brooding about Aurel being there, no doubt, she took a sip of champagne and, with the pinky finger of her glass-holding hand, as her other hand was holding her steady on her crutch, she poked Spade's shoulder, grinning at him as cheerfully as if she were NOT in the land she had wanted to set on fire since... well, time ago. "SO~ Spadey-bro! I notice you don't have any of this fine champ, yet?~ You need to get some, we totally have to toast for you and Shu~" Ahh, yes. Spade and Shu's love for one another was made erm... WELL. Rather public, actually, after Spade drunkenly announced it at South. Word travelled like wildfire, indeed, so Jay heard of it not too long after. A waiter came by once more (God, she loved them!), and refilled her glass, as well as handing Spade a flute of champagne, per Jay's request. Raising her's, she grinned; "To the awesome dude in front of me, about to get hithced!~ And considering it IS Shu, make that the totally lucky awesome dude in front of me!~"

(TLDR version: AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH 5K WORDS OF MADNESS!)

Franklin didn’t feel that bad about allowing Rachel to indulge in her breakfast before Elastor showed up. He too hadn’t had anything to eat today; he was too nervous. Though still under her employ, Franklin felt as if she was his best friend; certainly the person he spent most of his time with. Even his girlfriend seemed to come second in the list of priorities to Rachel. The fact that she was becoming queen was what worried him; would she change? What were her plans? Her goals? Her skill didn’t worry him too much; she was quite petty at times, but she wasn’t stupid. He felt she was up to the task, but she was too wild to accurately predict what she would do. So when Elastor walked in, Franklin was immediately reminded of where Rachel was supposed to be.

"Captain Elastor Ito reporting for duty." He paused, frowning avidly at Franklin. Franklin frowned back. "Just what...are you doing...?"

“I’ve seen her when she’s hungry. Sometimes, it’s best to let her win.” He said with a resigned shrug. Rachel’s eyes shot daggers at her driver.

“You cheeky bastard! I write your paychecks!” She said, though garlic bread was still in her mouth so it sounded like “Oo heemph mmm’mph! Mmm mrrrp mrrr mayhumm!”

"The coronation starts in four minutes, your majesty."

“Well, we can get there in three minutes after I’ve finished.” Rachel said, finishing her chewing. Franklin stopped eating.

“Actually, I think that’s impossible, Rachel. We need to move now, and even then we’ll still be pretty late.” The nightclub owner rolled her eyes.

“Urrgh! Why do I put up with this?” She asked no one in particular, standing up and growling irritably. She grabbed the pizza box the garlic bread was in. “Fine, I’m going. I’m taking this with me though.”

Franklin resignedly nodded, knowing that things would just get worse if he said no. He stood up and led both Rachel and Elastor out of the penthouse and into Rachel’s private limo. The moment she got into it, though, she pressed her face into the largest seat and curled up into a ball, falling back into a sleep and providing the others in the limo a view that left little to the imagination for most of the long drive. The only way for Franklin to wake her up was to charge recklessly into the first speed bump he found, sending the queen tumbling into a blue and purple heap on the floor. “I take it you want everyone to see your ass when we get there?” Franklin asked. Rachel sat back on her seat, arms crossed.

“Well, I’d be flattered if they wanted to, but I see your point.” She sighed reluctantly, before looking to Elastor. “So, what’s got a bee in your bonnet? I get it, being late’s not the queenly thing, but I don’t see why you’re so nervous.” She waited for a second, then offered him the box of garlic bread. “Did you want some bread too?”

“Miss Ascot?” Franklin very suddenly stopped the car. “We’re here, but the crowd’s not moving.” Rachel smiled.

“I can walk, don’t worry. How much time do we have before I’m late?”

“You were late ten minutes ago.”

“Splendid.” The queen said, gleefully opening the door and getting out. “Park up and I’ll see you in there. Don’t miss the speech.” Franklin nodded.

“Oh shit she’s going to do something crazy.” He thought. What he said instead was “Certainly… your majesty.” He had a joking hint to the way he said it, giving Rachel reason to smile even wider. Franklin let Elastor out, then drove away. Rachel nodded to the captain, before taking another bite of the garlic bread.

“Well Captain Elastor Ito, get everyone ready to direct people to the club after I’m done with my speech. I might need someone to come with me when I have a chat with the world’s leaders; you’re free to choose who.” She explained, before ripping into the last piece of garlic bread she had. She wolfed it down hungrily, then handed him the cardboard box. “And find a bin for that, would you? I’d do it myself but… well…” She pointed to the bustling crowd. “- duty calls, you know?” And with that, she turned around. One of the first things she saw as she began to move towards the church was Aaron and… some guy with automail arms. Like Doctor Octopus. If she ever met him, she’d have to call him Doctor Octopus. She did wave at Aaron, hoping to get his attention, but carried on into the crowd.

“It’s her!” People gasped the moment she got close, and they went silent. No whispers. No mumbling. Even the journalists stopped speaking. It was as if the entire world had been silenced. Slowly, but surely, the crowd parted, like they had for the world leaders and their entourages of bodyguards or interpreters or cabals, but it was Rachel alone who made them move. She smirked slightly.

“I could get used to this treatment.” She said. Her steps were slow, but every single one seemed to make an explosion of noise. The tarmacadam of the street became the stone slabs of the minster, every step she took echoing as all the eyes of the world shifted to the blue and purple woman. Her gaze travelled. There was the deranged king of the Dominion. Speaking to him was Yoshida Izanagi, a fellow virgin to royalty, and his interpreter, and the other new ruler Qin Shi Xun of Xing. There was the Silent King of Carraig and Reinhardt of Amestris, both men who had seen the other men of their time fall from power so recently. Interestingly, Vanity was absent, but her pet Aurelius was. A shame, thought Rachel; a feminine touch would’ve been a nice familiarity in the conversation to come. There were many other guests, equally important to their rulers and just as colourful, from all corners of the globe and all walks of life. All of them, here. For her. Rachel had to remind herself to chill her nerves, but she walked to the choir of the minster, the raised platform where a great icon of power sat.

The Throne of Creta. A pretty unassuming wooden chair, but it was still the seat from which the world shifted.

“Would the heir to the throne please be seated?” Came a booming voice. Rachel turned to a hooded man, red robes reaching the floor. She sat on the gold chair. Although it wasn’t very comfortable, something felt both great and terrible about sitting on it. Electricity ran through her. The red-hooded man turned away from her. “Would the congregation be seated?” With that, everyone in the church sat down as well, in uniform timing. The man looked to Rachel, who suddenly felt rather small. “Rachel Ascot. Would you please recite after myself?”

“I will.” She said, deciding not to break tradition over her knee. Not yet, anyway.

“I pledge my allegiance to the people of Creta.” He began, and every time he paused, Rachel repeated his words. “I shall serve the people as they serve me. I shall not lead them astray, I shall not contradict their wishes. I shall do all for the people, I shall do for all people. I will protect this land in times of peace, I will fight for this land in times of war, and I will heal this land in times afterward. I shall do this in Creta’s name and in Creta’s will.” When she said the last words, the man turned around, looking to a tiny stand. On it was a pillow of the most royal purple, and atop that was a small, unassuming circlet. The crown. He put his hands on the pillow and carried it, careful not to touch the crown itself, before he brought it in front of Rachel. She looked at him. The hood obscured him from the crowd, but she could finally see his face, and fought not to laugh at his awful comb-over.

“And with these pledges, I now pronounce that you, and only you, have the right that has been passed on for centuries; the right to wear this crown, and take the duties as Queen of Creta.” Rachel didn’t react for a second, coolly peering at the crown. It wasn’t garish, but managed to be grand simply by the history that it carried. She carefully placed her fingers on the gold. It was cold to touch, but she didn’t react, placing it onto her head. It didn’t fit perfectly, as it was a bit bigger than she expected and she had to straighten it a little, but it eventually fitted onto her head. “Rise, Rachel the First, and make your first speech to your people.” Rachel looked forward, to the podium that ominously towered over everyone in the minster, including her. She stood from her throne, now a queen, and walked over. “Now for the hard part,” She thought, summoning a piece of paper. She stood to the podium, and cleared her throat.

“Cretans and all others.” She began. “I accept this honour that you have bestowed on me. I shall serve Creta and lead her… her…”

She stopped. Everyone else began to mutter when she did. Was something wrong? Could she not read it? What happened? Franklin looked to her, a faraway figure at the door of the minster, and suddenly a chill went down his spine, fearing that she was about to mess it up.

“… lead her through these dark times and bring her prosperity to…” She then stopped again. More mutters. What was happening? Her brow furrowed heavily, frustrated. Then something happened that silenced everyone. Even the birds outside stopped singing and the traffic stopped chugging.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this with a straight face.” She said, looking annoyed, before tearing the speech in two. Then she ripped it again, anger in every rip, before she scrunched the thing into a messy ball and hurled it into the crowd. It smacked Aurelius on the head, and then bounced onto Yoshida Izanagi. Rachel grinned at this, fist pumping subtly. While everyone else was stupefied, Franklin could only bring his palm to his face. This was part of the speech. She was going to do something insane.

“Those words? They were written for me!” She barked angrily, pointing to where the crumbled piece of paper landed. No one spoke up. “Not by someone I hired! Not by an orator, or a speechwriter! You know who wrote it?” She smirked. “I don’t know either. Probably some intern. I was sent it last night, from the House of Lords. It was a list of things I could and couldn’t say. One of them was that I couldn’t mention the word Irn Bru! For fear of Barr! One of the people who wrote that piece of shit list has a major company in the soft drinks industry to thank for his wealth. With that in mind,” Rachel stopped to reach down. Out of nowhere, it seemed, she pulled out a can of Irn Bru, opening it. “Bottoms up.” She said, before taking a long chug of the drink. Franklin moved around the crowd, trying to get as close as he could to her. “That’s what these people think the world is; a list of dos and don’ts, written up by business moguls and lords and ladies and the rich!”

Rachel paused to let this beginning sink in, taking another swig of her drink, and then casting a gaze across the crowd. Her eyes focused shortly on each and every one of the world leaders, then back to the crowd as a whole. She visibly calmed down, not seeming as angry anymore.

“Allow me to share with you something that I’ve only realised recently.” She began again, “And I only noticed it recently because it’s only happened recently, and many people don’t want to see it, but it’s true… the world’s changing. I feel that I’m evidence enough to that effect.” She stopped to take a breath. “Dietrich was a smart man, and a great king. He was cunning, ruthless and brutal, but he served Creta well. Royalty was in everything he did, and everything he said. He had plans for Creta that were tragically cut short.” She then gestured to herself. “I’m younger than him. I’m probably not as smart as him. I’m not even supposed to be here. I wasn’t very good at school, in fact I was really lazy. I’m a nightclub owner without royal blood in me, and a woman at that. While I was able to get enough support to be voted as queen, there’s plenty who think that only old, white skinned men who happened to be born a prince should ever wear this crown. And here I am.”

Franklin stopped just short of the choir, about a metre or so away, in the shadows and watching. Rachel’s eyes held a great deal of sincerity, and he honestly couldn’t tell if she acting or not. It didn’t even look rehearsed, as if she was honestly making it up on the spot and meaning every word.

“I’m here and Dietrich’s not. Here’s what happened to Dietrich, what really happened to Dietrich.” Rachel’s gaze suddenly snapped to Aurel, and the entire room shook. Even the walls seemed to back away. No malice was in Rachel’s eyes, but everything seemed to get colder. “Drachma attacked because one man went on a ridiculous quest that he decided was far more important that the lives of his people, and the people of everyone else around him. He sent the world spiralling into chaos, and then shot himself. Looking better, by the way, Aurry.” Rachel chuckled, pointing to her skull in about the same place Aurelius shot his own. “Like what you’ve done to hide it. No one would even guess. You need to tell me how you do your hair, you must've been a hairdresser in another life.” She shot a grin at him, then carried on.

“Why did he do it? I don’t know. Why did Drachma go down this road of bloodshed, destroying themselves and the world, only to turn away and go home? I don’t know. What started this whole mess? I don’t know. I think we were all acting pretty stupid those few months, it was a weird time for everyone. But I’ll come back to that. What happened to Dietrich was that he laid a trap.” She looked around the room, every single person within gobsmacked. She had just called the World War people were still healing from ‘stupid’, and was making friendly jokes to the man who had begun it. Franklin was tempted to charge forward, but she seemed to know what she was doing. “Dietrich laid a trap, thinking that he could crush the Drachman forces in the palm of his hand as they marched through our cities just to attack Amestris. He let RIOTE walk in, the trap backfired, and he was put into a comatose state. I don’t doubt the genius of the trap, and I’m not going to call Dietrich a bad king. He wasn’t, but here’s a question; why trap them at all? Why not negotiate? Why not bring Hans, Vanity and himself around a table and talk this out? If not that, why not hit Drachma back before they came into the country? Why not bring the fight to them? Why not react, whether with peace or with violence? Why stand still and hope he could twist them into his palm?”

She paused, letting everyone consider the question as she gauged the reactions of everyone. Some were frightened that she had gone insane, some were insulted that she critique Dietrich’s rule, but most were curious and contemplative. She had asked the world a question, and many were genuinely looking within themselves for the answer.

“And here’s that revelation I had. Dietrich fell not because he wasn’t smart enough to see the other options, but because he wasn’t allowed to. It wasn’t in the rules. It wasn’t in the list of dos and don’ts. He still saw things as Creta versus the world, as Aurelius sees RIOTE versus the world, and everyone else from this world that is now gone. We do attack and chronically backstab each other. We don’t work towards a better world as a singular united people. We do let huge conglomerates and businesses feed off our people like leeches. We don’t consider our actions in a global sense, but only in our own tiny pockets. We do try to trick each other into doing what we want, gently squeezing their balls until they bow to our demands. We don’t fight for our people, or for all people, whether we’re Cretan or Drachman or an alchemist or part of the blue man group or the kind of person who puts on their socks before their trousers. That’s what Dietrich saw. That’s what a lot of people still see. And the rest of us are sick of it.” She pointed to every leader she saw before her. “All of you have a duty to serve the world! When will you remember it? When will you see that the world isn’t your battlefield, that your actions and words affect more than those few that seem to circle you? The warriors you enlist, the bodyguards you hire, the friends you acquire, the tycoons you pay; these are the only people we see because that was the old world! And now?” A pause to take a swig of her drink. “Four leaders! Gone! Two wars beginning and over in a flash! Some would argue that they’re not over yet! So much death, so much pain, because the world’s outpaced you! We’ve changed, and you’re stuck dragging everyone by your choke chains into your own battles because that’s what you’ve always done! I don’t pretend to speak for the world’s people, but I think they’re beginning to lose their patience!”

The more Rachel said it, the more it seemed to be true. Around all her guests, all the leaders, all of the militants, grumbling and mumbling could be heard. What was all the fighting for? Not for them. Not for their benefit. It was as if Rachel had destroyed a jamming signal on emotion itself, and Franklin raised an eyebrow. The sincerity was there, but her words were beginning to grow in volume and in power. Her baritone hum became a boom, every word echoing through the halls and planting ideas into the heads of those around them.

“I think that when the people want wars, they’ll be the ones declaring them!” Rachel said, and everyone began to nod in agreement. Her pledge from before wasn’t lying; she was going to serve the people. She wasn’t going to exploit them like before. It’s amazing that they hadn’t considered it before. Rachel, behind her indignant face, was grinning like a wolf. Of course they didn’t consider it before; she was the one who brought it up. She was playing them like ragdolls for her own purpose, and the only person who seemed to notice was Franklin, who watched carefully, seeing a little into her plan as she calmed down, her pause letting the crowd sit with a whole new indignant rage rumbling in its belly, waiting to erupt out, a contrast to Rachel’s calmed mood.

“I do want to fix things, and I think you all do too.” She began again, her voice once again completely different. She looked back to the world leaders, but this time she was looking at them with a soft look, her voice soothing and calm and making the crowd feel better for listening to it, as if she was an angel made of the memories of everyone’s mothers. “I really do. And I know this isn’t want you wanted from the start. For you who are new as I am, I do see that you wish to help your people too, and those from the old world I can see want to transition to the new. The wars were never supposed to happen, and none of you really wanted them. That’s really what I intend to talk about after the coronation; I don’t think this is a world we can live in by ourselves anymore. We need to act as one, and see the consequences of our actions as one. We’re costing ourselves too much, and we’re destroying ourselves when we destroy each other. The world has changed, and I’m changing Creta with it. There’s a time to change, and it’s right now!” She pounded her fist into her open palm. Now to wrap it up, she thought. “I’m not of royal blood, but I’m going to honour my pledge as if I were! I refuse to let the world leave Creta in the dust! I refuse to get left behind! I refuse to make the same mistakes that we’ve made time and time again!” The minster began to rumble as everyone began to cheer quietly, her words forcing the people to their feet. “If I’m the one to lead this charge, then so be it, because I know what you want! I know what the people of the world want! Be ye Cretan, be ye Drachman, be ye Auregese, be ye anyone and everyone! I’m only the queen of one country but I intend to extend my pledge to all across the globe!” Now the crowd was beginning to go wild. They started to drown her out as her name began to be chanted. A constant repeat of ‘Rachel! Rachel! Rachel!’ “I shall serve all people! I shall do all for the people! I shall do for all people! I will protect all lands in times of peace! I will fight for all lands in times of war! I will heal all lands in times afterward! I shall do this in the will not of one country but of all countries!” It was as if all of Creta was shouting her name, the ground quaking as they did. Rachel leant forward, a grin coming back to her face.

“After all; anything else is something the person who wrote that list would do. And I’m not from that world. I’m from the new world. I’m from a world that I’m going to make better.” Her grin was almost wolfish in nature. She was riding high from the chants, as if intoxicated by the screams and cheers. “Keep up, or you’ll get left in the fucking dust.”

Even the profanity, live on television, couldn’t quell the almost war-cry like booming of her name, over and over again as people rose their fists to their new queen, and she rose hers back. The world had its eyes on her, and she had impressed.

“Now let’s have ourselves a party! Those who’ve got invited to the club afterwards, follow the fine soldiers of Creta, they’ll show you the way. My fellow monarchs, we’ll have a little chat on the way, my limo’ll fit you all. Please follow the guards to where it’s parked.” She lifted the microphone she spoke into, smiling. “Queen Rachel the first, over and out.” Finally, she dropped the mike, and walked off stage.

“Ummm… Rachel?” Came a voice.

“Like my speech?” She asked Franklin, who escorted her to the door opposite the main entrance.

“It was amazing. Beautifully written, masterfully spoken." He said, then he stopped her. “Cleverly manipulative. I know you too well, Rachel. What was that?” Rachel grinned.

“I just like people too much to send them to war. Well, that and it’s a pain in the arse. If Creta gets attacked, I’ve got to stop it and do all the paperwork and the planning.” She explained, causing worry in the bouncer. “Then I’ve got to negotiate and organise amnesties and sanctions, and it’s just a mess. If everyone thinks I want to never have a war again, everyone’ll fall in love with me. Well, all the public will. One person’s smart, but many people are stupid, and I can twist them into loving me whoever they are. Now I’ve planted the seeds of rebellion in people’s minds, anyone considering an attack on Creta’s going to have to think twice about what it’s going to look like to their people. They risk getting kicked out of office by their own if they go to war with me. On the other hand, if I’m given a reason to attack them, I’m going to look like the good guy no matter what, and everyone will simply fall into place and support me. I’m going to be untouchable and I’ll be able to do whatever I want because everyone will want me around, either because they’re in love with me or because they can’t afford the risk that comes with upsetting the applecart.” She grinned happily to Franklin, as if she was a student presenting her teacher a papier-mâché sculpture.

“You mean… you said all of that to make yourself invincible? And even then, solely because you’re too lazy to go to war?” He asked. Rachel scoffed.

“When you say it like that, it sounds insane.” She said. Franklin couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, I expected insanity, just not on this level,” he said, causing Rachel to punch him lightly on the arm.

“Cheeky bastard!” She said, before looking to the limo as the world leaders were led towards it. “Right. Time to go.” She lifted her foot to step forward.

“Wait.”

“What now, Franklin?” Rachel sighed, hands on her hips.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Can you really pull this plan of yours off?” Franklin then saw something he thought that he’d never see, and would never see again.

He saw the unflappable, unpredictable, undeniable new Queen of Creta… stop and look stunned.

A terrible feeling welled up in Rachel’s gut. It was fear, but it wasn’t. It was sorrow, but it wasn’t. It was confusion, but it wasn’t. What it was was the feeling of being lost in a big forest. She sighed heavily, and slowly turned to her bouncer.

“Franklin. When you look in the mirror, what do you see?”

“I see myself.”

“I see an empty space where someone else should be.” Rachel explained, rubbing her arm nervously, transforming from the voice that could twist the will of thousands to a little girl in a big empty world. Tears began to form in her eyes. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t supposed to be here. My life has been a long string of accidents and chances. I get given all these chances by my dad, and I waste them. I get kicked off onto the street by him, and I luck out with a job. I do the job, and I just meet the right people at the right time and say the right things. I didn’t plan to be duchess. I didn’t plan to be queen. It just happened by accident.” Franklin walked a bit closer, concerned. He had never seen Rachel like this before. “My brother, Levi, he was a genius. A prodigy. I don’t know where he is. My dad wasn’t an idiot either. I think he’s dead, but I can’t say for sure. They’re the ones who should be standing here, or anyone else. Elastor’s more responsible, Aaron’s smarter, Vivian won’t manipulate a crowd full of people into screaming her name. I don’t even have any skills beyond speaking! Something everyone masters by the time they’re two! I don’t know anything, I can’t do anything! I’m just here because of some string of random chances that got me here. Do I know what I’m doing? I’ve been trying to answer that for years, and I’m no closer to an answer.”

“Rachel…”

“The issue isn’t whether or not I know what I’m doing.” She finished, turning away. “It’s making sure no one else finds out before I do. If I’m not meant to be here, the least I could do is make it worthwhile before the castle of sand collapses.” She sighed heavily, a weight of her shoulders. She needed to vent. She began to move towards the limo. “Let’s go, Franklin.” However, Franklin didn’t listen, instead reaching out to Rachel and grabbing her shoulder. Turning her back towards him, he pulled her into his large frame and wrapped his arms around her. Rachel’s eyes were wider than saucers, but she soon enough returned the hug.

“You’ll do fine.” He said, his voice soothing to her ears as they parted. She wiped her eyes looking up to the large bouncer.

“There’s a reason I’ve kept you around for this long.” She said, before gesturing back to the limo. “And it’s that you’re a cheap driver.” Franklin lightly punched her arm, before the two of them walked to the vehicle, wide smiles on their faces. Rachel clambered into the limo before anyone else could get in, turning around to the world’s top men as she smirked greedily. “The hottest two of you, sit either side to me and get up close. The rest of you find a space in the boot or something.”

Franklin’s mood got a lot worse, and he brought his forehead to the steering wheel in frustration, the limo's horn blaring out.

From behind! A pair of hands attacked and Izanagi stiffened. There was a planned attack? Despite the rules?! Not expecting the (unwanted) hug, Izanagi reacted almost instantly and gripped the man's arms. He tensed and through the man both off of his back and flying a few feet. The shogun's eyes sat wide in his head, as a deer sits in the headlights. A hand went to his blade a moment and he glowered. "W-WHO DARES ATTACK ME?!" He demanded in a panicked way. His eyes slowly narrowing suspiciously at the black-haired man before him. The man seemed unaffected and not at all bothered by the throw. Wh-what WAS this man?!

"Hiya thar, uuuuuh... Wait, wait, I gots it... Hmm... MARIO! Ohnonowait, ah mah Guh, so sorriiiiiiiieeeees, YOSHI! Yepyepyep, you're Yoshi. How're youse on this fine day? OH! Didn't even 'member ta introduce myself to yas, I am the one they call Roí de Royaume Wolfgang Murinyo da thirdth, of Gelemort! But please, just calls me Wolfy, fer sho'te. "

His hand moved from off of his blade and Izanagi stared, literally dumbstruck. What on EARTH had that man just blathered at him. He caught part of his name and the rest was just a mess of nonsense. It sounded like someone butchered a language and offered the remnants that vultures hadn't devoured unto him. W-what- Was that some sort of battlecry? The shogun was obviously not amused. Even as the man turned to one of the other men and spoke in a language he didn't even recognize. He gave a look to Ryuji, then turned back to the man.

Thank the gods a familiar face slid into the mess and saved his tail. "He introduced himself brother, he is the king of Gelemorte. Roi de Royaume Wolfgang Murinyo the third. He says you can call him Wolfy for short." Izanami.. such a life-saver as usual, however, Izanagi was not quick to forgive. He looked from Izanami (who said something in gibberish) to this Wolfgang Murinyo.

Izanagi straightened himself, folded his cuffs, then stated rather boldly "Tell him not to touch me again. I do not appreciate being ambushed." He paused and looked at both of his company. "The coronation should be starting, let us join the others." With that, he turned and took his leave. Into the large church with everyone else.

Izanagi couldn't tell what was worse. Was it being ambushed by one of the other leaders or the way this new Queen acted. Not only was she incredibly late, but she also stopped, started speaking vulgarly into the microphone and then she tore open what he guessed was alcohol and tried again. His face was blank; confused and just simply lost as she went on. “That’s what these people think the world is; a list of dos and don’ts, written up by business moguls and lords and ladies and the rich!” Izanagi didn't quite understand. Then again, he had never had a proper coronation, himself. He was simply a shadow who slipped into the position, almost like the ninjas he kept around. Few of his people knew what he looked like, but his name was known and often times the first question that followed was "That general?" All the men he had kill, often flashed behind his eyes. Before all of this, he was simply a mindless man, sent to simply to bidding. Yes.. it was true, he would never be able to look a Xingese man in the eye again, without feeling guilt. In his eyes sat the souls of those stolen away and never to return, but perhaps one day.. all would be well and he could make amends with the slaughters. General Yoshida. The name had been passed down far more times than necessary. Izanagi was so grateful his siblings didn't have to endure the torture.

Beautiful Izanami didn't need to be stained with red upon her innocent white soul. Did she even know how stained red he was? The lion and the lamb... that is how he flt at times. His heart stopped and he looked at his sister, so clueless and oblivious to his thoughts. She was no mind reader, but she seemed glad to have come along and for that, Izanagi could not be mad at her. He hadn't known she would want to toddle along, or else he would have brought her originally, without fight. On his other side was Ryuji. The poor man was lost in the world and Yoshida felt somewhat guilty in bringing him. However, he also knew Ryuji would have insisted anyways. It was just how he was. It gave him a tinge of pride in his chest.

Only then he had found himself zoning out, missing chunks of this woman's speech. He tried to hone back in, but found his mind a bit unfocused. So many things were needed to be done and little had yet been accomplished. The road ahead for she, the new emperor of Xing and himself, was a long one.. at least he hoped so. No more deaths... the shifting of World leaders made it most difficult in terms of everything. The people were in chaos and without a solid foundation and the other leaders were at a loss of what they thought of each country and how it is run. Allies and enemies were so unpredictable and confusing.

“Allow me to share with you something that I’ve only realised recently. And I only noticed it recently because it’s only happened recently, and many people don’t want to see it, but it’s true… the world’s changing. I feel that I’m evidence enough to that effect. Dietrich was a smart man, and a great king. He was cunning, ruthless and brutal, but he served Creta well. Royalty was in everything he did, and everything he said. He had plans for Creta that were tragically cut short. I’m younger than him. I’m probably not as smart as him. I’m not even supposed to be here. I wasn’t very good at school, in fact I was really lazy. I’m a nightclub owner without royal blood in me, and a woman at that. While I was able to get enough support to be voted as queen, there’s plenty who think that only old, white skinned men who happened to be born a prince should ever wear this crown. And here I am.”

Again, Izanagi was trying to focus on her words, but really, he could sort of relate. He too, was of no 'royal blood' not even a passing touch. In fact iif he traced his line back far enough, he was pretty sure the earlier lineage he had was more akin to slaves or farmers. Peasants that had little to nothing, but still showed their loyalty. That was something that would never fade from the man, his sense of pride and the joy he found in doing what was right. Everything he did was for his country, for a better future and he too, had so little to give, but all it was was everything they needed. Even waves started small before they gathered into the large walls and then crest into the ocean. Time after time, these fluxes in life forever impacted not only the water, but the land it kept crashing away into. Old was stripped away and new was slowly formed beneath the surface.

“I’m here and Dietrich’s not. Here’s what happened to Dietrich, what really happened to Dietrich. Drachma attacked because one man went on a ridiculous quest that he decided was far more important that the lives of his people, and the people of everyone else around him. He sent the world spiralling into chaos, and then shot himself. Looking better, by the way, Aurry. Like what you’ve done to hide it. No one would even guess. You need to tell me how you do your hair, you must've been a hairdresser in another life.”

“Why did he do it? I don’t know. Why did Drachma go down this road of bloodshed, destroying themselves and the world, only to turn away and go home? I don’t know. What started this whole mess? I don’t know. I think we were all acting pretty stupid those few months, it was a weird time for everyone. But I’ll come back to that. What happened to Dietrich was that he laid a trap. Dietrich laid a trap, thinking that he could crush the Drachman forces in the palm of his hand as they marched through our cities just to attack Amestris. He let RIOTE walk in, the trap backfired, and he was put into a comatose state. I don’t doubt the genius of the trap, and I’m not going to call Dietrich a bad king. He wasn’t, but here’s a question; why trap them at all? Why not negotiate? Why not bring Hans, Vanity and himself around a table and talk this out? If not that, why not hit Drachma back before they came into the country? Why not bring the fight to them? Why not react, whether with peace or with violence? Why stand still and hope he could twist them into his palm?” Izanagi couldn't help but feel betrayed. That man had done similar to Aerugo. He'd used them to get to Amestris and then went back on a promise. He couldn't stand LIARS. Perhaps it was childish of him to think, but even he shot cruel eyes at the King of Chaos, himself. Eyes that read a mixture of gratitude with snarky overtone and hatred. It was a dark look in his eyes towards the man. A traitor to everything natural. THAT was what Aurelius was. He jusst had to step his foot in the middle and draw a line for the cosmos. At the same time, Izanagi had to thank him. Without the man, Yuuko wouldn't have gone to Xing. His eyes rose back to the woman, catching bits and pieces of the speech again.

“And here’s that revelation I had. Dietrich fell not because he wasn’t smart enough to see the other options, but because he wasn’t allowed to. It wasn’t in the rules. It wasn’t in the list of dos and don’ts. He still saw things as Creta versus the world, as Aurelius sees RIOTE versus the world, and everyone else from this world that is now gone. We do attack and chronically backstab each other. We don’t work towards a better world as a singular united people. We do let huge conglomerates and businesses feed off our people like leeches. We don’t consider our actions in a global sense, but only in our own tiny pockets. We do try to trick each other into doing what we want, gently squeezing their balls until they bow to our demands. We don’t fight for our people, or for all people, whether we’re Cretan or Drachman or an alchemist or part of the blue man group or the kind of person who puts on their socks before their trousers. That’s what Dietrich saw. That’s what a lot of people still see. And the rest of us are sick of it. “All of you have a duty to serve the world! When will you remember it? When will you see that the world isn’t your battlefield, that your actions and words affect more than those few that seem to circle you? The warriors you enlist, the bodyguards you hire, the friends you acquire, the tycoons you pay; these are the only people we see because that was the old world! And now? Four leaders! Gone! Two wars beginning and over in a flash! Some would argue that they’re not over yet! So much death, so much pain, because the world’s outpaced you! We’ve changed, and you’re stuck dragging everyone by your choke chains into your own battles because that’s what you’ve always done! I don’t pretend to speak for the world’s people, but I think they’re beginning to lose their patience!”

There it was. The fleeting moment's breath of regret. He probably didn't HAVE to kill Yuuko. That one day would come back and bite him in the ass, but no one knew. Not even his sister knew what he did to that Empress' body that was stashed somewhere with the bodies of other come and gone. It wasn't like he cared that much on it. As soon as it came, it was gone. The woman was a weed that needed to be plucked from her very seat. The country was better without her ruthlessly killing others, attacking Xing for her own petty desires. That reminded him, he would have to have a talk with a couple of the other leaders when he got the chance. He was purposely going to avoid Aurelius, though. That man was far from Izanagi's to-talk-to list. His temper was easily to manipulate and that would make for a terrible situation. OH and the strange man too, who had attacked him as if he were some doll. He'd avoid him too. Izanagi's eyes rolled over each leader with curiosity, sneaking a look to their expressions, curiously.

“I do want to fix things, and I think you all do too. I really do. And I know this isn’t want you wanted from the start. For you who are new as I am, I do see that you wish to help your people too, and those from the old world I can see want to transition to the new. The wars were never supposed to happen, and none of you really wanted them. That’s really what I intend to talk about after the coronation; I don’t think this is a world we can live in by ourselves anymore. We need to act as one, and see the consequences of our actions as one. We’re costing ourselves too much, and we’re destroying ourselves when we destroy each other. The world has changed, and I’m changing Creta with it. There’s a time to change, and it’s right now! I’m not of royal blood, but I’m going to honour my pledge as if I were! I refuse to let the world leave Creta in the dust! I refuse to get left behind! I refuse to make the same mistakes that we’ve made time and time again! If I’m the one to lead this charge, then so be it, because I know what you want! I know what the people of the world want! Be ye Cretan, be ye Drachman, be ye Auregese, be ye anyone and everyone! I’m only the queen of one country but I intend to extend my pledge to all across the globe! I shall serve all people! I shall do all for the people! I shall do for all people! I will protect all lands in times of peace! I will fight for all lands in times of war! I will heal all lands in times afterward! I shall do this in the will not of one country but of all countries! After all; anything else is something the person who wrote that list would do. And I’m not from that world. I’m from the new world. I’m from a world that I’m going to make better. Keep up, or you’ll get left in the fucking dust.”

Izanagi had to stop and stare in surprise. He had greatly misjudged this woman. How similar he felt to the woman's goals and in fact, he couldn't help but smile. Smile and then.. suddenly he started laughing. His hand covered his mouth. Relief washed over him, momentarily. He forgot where he was in fact it didn't matter. This woman- she was something else. It was odd, but he liked her. She lacked in tact, but for claiming not to be smart or experienced, her words were wise. Sometimes the new blood was better than the old. After his little chuckles escaped, he passed it away and looked up at the woman. Now.. the next step was for her to take these actions and set them in motion. He looked forward to it.

“Now let’s have ourselves a party! Those who’ve got invited to the club afterwards, follow the fine soldiers of Creta, they’ll show you the way. My fellow monarchs, we’ll have a little chat on the way, my limo’ll fit you all. Please follow the guards to where it’s parked.” Now that- That was something Izanagi was unsure of. These 'clubs' as he had heard were sometimes painful to attend with loud music and a lot of drinking, however he DID have to speak to a few other leaders, so he would look into that next. Silently, he grabbed his sister's hand. People were leaving and he rose to his feet. He was silent a moment. The whole thought process was a bit delayed. He turned a second to look over Ryuji. "That suit forms well to you." The words fell out quickly. "I forgot to thank you for attending, Tsuboi-san. I know it must be a trouble trying to figure this all out."

Then, he was back towards his sister. A gentle smile played at his lips. "Izanami... You are always looking out for me, are you not? Thank you, imouto." His fingers didn't leave hers, half afraid to lose her in the crowd. "Tsuboi-san, tag along. I have a few things to do, before we can mingle once more." He looked at his sister hard. "You know this world, better than I. Please, take me to the leader of Carraig. I wish to speak to him, while we are here." He knew little on Carraig, but so many faces left him drowning in a way he couldn't exactly claw through.

This was going to be an unorthodox day. Hans could feel it in his very bones. He was quietly chatting with his wife as the air in the minster grew tight. The future queen was running late to her own coronation. More people continued to arrive and yet no Rachel. Hans wasn't all that surprised. From what he'd heard about her, the new ruler of Creta was going to be very different from Dietrich. But the question was, would she be different in a good way?

“Hm, I wonder just how you manged to survive.” The blood in his veins ran cold as that mocking voice reached his ears. He took his wife's hand and placed it into her own lap as he stood and faced that scrawny bastard. Aurelius. Spade had told him that he had seen the leader of RIOTE shoot himself atop Central HQ. And yet here he was. In the flesh. Hans had half a mind to shoot him again, just to make sure he didn't come back. Several times, to be on the safe side. Instead, Hans replied, ice lacing his words. “I could wonder the same about you.” He sniffed in disdain, although his eyes sparkled with anger. “Now, you should move on. This is not your place.” Hans waited until Aurel and his entourage had left before he took his seat. He was joined shortly by Spade and Jay, as rumors of Rachel's arrival were imminent. He had seen Gavin arrive and offered him a smile from across the way. Finally, a face he was happy to see.

Silence came from outside, which was surprising. Which meant one thing. Rachel had arrived. Hans watched quietly as she entered and the rites of coronation were done. It was a simple enough ceremony, drowning in historical importance. But it was the speech that followed that really drew Hans' attention to this sprightly youth of a queen. He issued a short, silent bark of laughter as she tore up her carefully prepared (politically correct) speech and began to spin her own. Hans had to respect her gumption. She was making an obvious power play in her speech and it was working. The people of Creta and likely the world were now cheering her name. Yet he could always sense the naivete in her words. Unfortunately, there wasn't always the option towards talking out options and bringing about peace. Some hurts ran too deep. Hans had no doubt that given the opportunity, the people of Amestris would call for Aurel's head. And Hans couldn't deny them that. Aurelius had destroyed Amestris and hurt the people far too many times. But he believed that in general terms, peace was a viable option.

He stood and applauded with the rest as Rachel finished her speech and walked off her pulpit, the microphone making a whining noise as it hit the floor. It was quickly turned off and people began the move. Some were headed for their homes, others to Rachel's club for the (in)formal party. Hans himself had been casually asked (via public speech) to ride with Rachel to the club and he couldn't exactly say no. He turned to Brigitte, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek. He then looked at Spade and Jay. “You two are in charge of bringing my wife to the club with you.” He glanced over at Gavin. “You'll be taking Miss Quinn as well.” Looking down at Brigitte, he spoke quietly. “Take care of her. This is something very new and strange, I suspect.”

With that, he led his own little entourage over to Gavin. He shook Gavin's hand and kissed the top of Rosaleen's. Brigitte came to Rosaleen's side after receiving a greeting from Gavin. “Rosaleen, yes? I'm Brigitte. You'll ride over with myself and my lovely escorts. We've got to let the boys do their thing for now.” Once Hans and Gavin had been left by their various companions, he clapped Gavin on the shoulder. “Come, Your Highness. Let us go greet the Queen.”

They were found by two Cretan soldiers and were escorted towards Rachel's limo. Along the way, they were found by Shogun Yoshida and his interpreter sister. Hans managed to bow to them both, speaking a short greeting in the little Aerugese he knew. “Shogun Yoshida. An honor to meet you and your sister.” They were all gently pushed along until they were outside again, watching Rachel crawl into the limo. The limo was strictly for the leaders, but Hans gently handed in Shogun Yoshida's sister, seeing as how they would likely need someone who could play the language game. He let Yoshi follow his sister, before gesturing at Gavin to enter. Hans then bent double and crawled into the limo himself, taking a seat opposite Rachel, as he left the seats next to her open for the younger leaders. He allowed a small smile. “I believe congratulations are in order, Your Majesty.”

“Queen Rachel the first, over and out.”

Lucas couldn't help but chuckle. The entire speech, though he'd heard a slightly muffled version of it, seemed a bit, well, out there. Sure, Queen Rachel had sounded sincere, but he couldn't help but feel that these idealistic aspirations were just that - idealistic. However, regardless of whether she succeeded or not, she was still the Queen, and he, a citizen of Creta. Though he could be considered part of the country's military force, he wasn't directly so. Consequently, he chose to slip into to crowd of civilians, which he had no trouble doing. He began to regret that decision, however, when the crowd cheered, the majority of them standing up to show their support. To avoid being unnecessarily shoved around, he voluntarily moved with the crowd as they began to file out of the building.

As the sea of people floated along, the blonde took it upon himself to watch the movement of the big players of the event. Once outside, he moved away from the crowd to observe their movements. While he had no reason in particular to suspect that anything would happen, it wasn't completely out of the question. If he made sure to keep an eye on everything and everyone (as well as one person could, at least), he would be better able to intervene, if necessary. It was the first time he'd ever really done anything remotely related to his "job" - he didn't really think of it as a job in the general sense - and though it was only because he felt the need, if anything happened and he hadn't been there to assist, he wasn't sure how likely he was to keep his standing.

The alchemist scoffed at himself a bit for even caring about this so much. Politics were never really in his interests, especially given his history. Which was a bit ironic, considering his current situation. The kid that murdered and experimented on his parents was now part of an organization meant to help keep things running smoothly in the country. Shaking his head, he ran over the facts he had studied. There was quite an interesting mix of people attending this event, particularly when it came to the other world leaders. The most interesting of the bunch, however, was Aurelius. The posterchild of RIOTE. Quite possibly the main player, but according to his sources that was a title shared between two people, and he didn't want to make any assumptions. So, other than Aurelius Carston Schwartz, there were also the country leaders: Hans Ludwig Reinhardt, the Chancellor of Amestris; Yoshida, Izanagi, the Shogun of Aerugo; Wolfgang Morpheus Murinyo II, the unorthodox "Roi` de Royaume de Gelemorté"; Qin Shi Xun, the Emperor of Xing; and last, but not least, Gavin Seamus Etheridge, the mute King of Carraig. An interesting bunch, but not necessarily his type of crowd. This newly acquired information network would turn out to be even more useful in the future, he supposed, especially when it came to his sister. He would see to checking up on her after this whole thing was over.

"Lily's gonna flip when she finds out that I stepped foot in a church, though," he chuckled to himself as he watched everyone pass by. Lucas would find a way to trail behind the limo unnoticed, if possible, but that would likely take a bit of improvisation. Lily was better at that than he was, but he was glad she chose not to attend the event, and had other things to do. After all, she was as far from inconspicuous as she was skilled at winging it. Which, Luke noted, wasn't always a good thing. It seemed he would have to do things on his own this time around, but the Dynamic Duo would remain as one.

In mid-hug, no less, Wolfy had been flung over the head of the Aerugese emperor. This, oddly, didn’t concern him much at all, and he wasn’t paying enough attention to his guard to know how he had reacted. As it was, he merely landed on his feet, dipping into his bow and introduction. Soon after, a woman came over and spoke some crazy-talk at the emperor, and then started speaking his language, serving as the translator. LOVELY!~ “Ahhh, nice ta meetcha then, Ms. Izanami!~” Dipping into a low bow of his own, stopping just short of bumping his face on the ground, he smiled at the woman whom he greeted rather… Well, he tried to be polite, but informal, as always. Hearing Yoshi sputter out some crazy-talk again, he decided to make his exit, rather promptly walking off towards the church, for the coronation.

Soon enough, a voice started shouting at Wolfy over the intercom, and he focused all attention on Rachel, the recipient of the boom-boom talking. As the congregation, himself included, was told to sit, Wolfy chose instead to lean, leaning casually against a wall, beside a stained glass window. Honeybadger. And here came the Pledge of Allegiance of Creta, which Rachel said with the big-voice-man, followed by the crown’s presentation to the new queen.

“Cretans and all others.” She began. “I accept this honour that you have bestowed on me. I shall serve Creta and lead her… her…”

Oh no, it was a boring speech. Straight out of the book, even Wolfy knew THAT. The kid’s speech, back home, had been less bland! Yeesh, ‘Nasci’s rejection of the crown was less dull. And here he’d thought a club-going lady like herself would be more interesting. Phooey. She was even stuttering! Was she nervous to give such a lame speech!?

“… lead her through these dark times and bring her prosperity to…”

At that point, he was feeling a little sorry for her. I mean, yeah, it was a boring speech and all, but she didn’t even seem to want to do it. Maybe she was awkward, and a bad speech-writer?

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this with a straight face.”

The way she said it… The way she said it implied that his previous thoughts were all off the mark. She had found the speech as amusing bland as he had! Hilariously, she threw the torn up, balled up speech into the crowd, bouncing it off the heads of Yoshi and Aurel. Wolfy had to crack a laugh, his own shattering of the awkward silence she had made. “Thirty points fer the two-fer! Haha!~” He was intrigued; this speech was getting good.

“Those words? They were written for me! Not by someone I hired! Not by an orator, or a speechwriter! You know who wrote it? I don’t know either. Probably some intern. I was sent it last night, from the House of Lords. It was a list of things I could and couldn’t say. One of them was that I couldn’t mention the word Irn Bru! For fear of Barr! One of the people who wrote that piece of shit list has a major company in the soft drinks industry to thank for his wealth. With that in mind,”

Oh-ho-ho? Brave one, this girl. He liked her already. He was about to shout up his own thoughts on her words, his personal agreement and approval, when she carried on, mentioning the name of some drink of sorts. Watching her as she reached for a can, he drew from his inside pocket his small bottle of whiskey, and rose it sky-high, taking a drink as she said bottoms up, smiling as he placed the bottle back into his inner pocket. He shifted position against his wall, making it more comfortable for himself. Dietrich, while he’d be sorely, sorely missed, had never been THIS crazy! Wolfy, king of the unorthodox, was enjoying this coronation, and he knew the fun hadn’t even begun yet…

“That’s what these people think the world is; a list of do’s and don’ts, written up by business moguls and lords and ladies and the rich!”

And she wanted to shed that list from herself, to be unhindered by conventions! Glorious, glorious, glorious! She was queen; she could do what she wanted to do!

“Allow me to share with you something that I’ve only realized recently.” She began again, “And I only noticed it recently because it’s only happened recently, and many people don’t want to see it, but it’s true… the world’s changing. I feel that I’m evidence enough to that effect.” She stopped to take a breath. “Dietrich was a smart man, and a great king. He was cunning, ruthless and brutal, but he served Creta well. Royalty was in everything he did, and everything he said. He had plans for Creta that were tragically cut short.” She then gestured to herself. “I’m younger than him. I’m probably not as smart as him. I’m not even supposed to be here. I wasn’t very good at school, in fact I was really lazy. I’m a nightclub owner without royal blood in me, and a woman at that. While I was able to get enough support to be voted as queen, there’s plenty who think that only old, white skinned men who happened to be born a prince should ever wear this crown. And here I am.”

Okay… Okay. At this point of the speech, he was loudly applauding and laughing, such to the point that some Cretan soldier came over to tell him to quiet down, which he did, albeit not very well. She was a genius, he’d decided. Or at least, a revolutionary, and quite similar to himself, be that a good or bad thing. Royalty… Royalty is, and always will be, some form of a contest between members of one family. He didn’t like it, and it seemed she agreed with this. She’d come into play soon after the much older, wiser, more powerful ruler had been unable to lead anymore, and was different from him racially, gender-wise, and age-wise, but most importantly, she wasn’t royal blood. In much the same way, Wolfy himself had come to power. He’d been a refugee of Amestris, self-exiled to the farthest place from those he’d wronged before he was imprisoned once those wrong-doings caught up to him. Amestrian-Cerisian, he didn’t look Gelemortian, didn’t sound Gelemortian, and even presently, didn’t speak Gelemortian without an accent, even if he were to dispel the ever-present dialect he butchered languages with. He was a foreigner for one. In addition, he was at least a third the age of the current king at that time, if not even younger, and it wasn’t but a decade or so later that he took the reins. And of course, he’d had no relations to Darkamaru III. He was no Invidia, he had no Rouenian blood in him whatsoever. He came in as a Private, rose to the ranks of General, and then to the right hand of the king, and upon the king’s death, and his grandson’s failure to rule well, he took hold, and became the fourth king of Gelemort, and the first not to bear the Invidia’s blood. All luck. Right place, right time. He understood Rachel completely in that regard.

His focus wavered from Rachel as he pondered those thoughts, and snapped back as she spoke to Aurel, cracking a grin on the psychotic king’s face. “Like what you’ve done to hide it. No one would even guess. You need to tell me how you do your hair, you must've been a hairdresser in another life.” Glorious… Simply glorious! Even he, king of no-holds-barred crazy would have never considered so openly, or casually, addressing Aurel, calling him out on what he’d done, and then having the gall to throw an off-handed compliment at him, possibly just to embarrass the man publicly. Speaking of Aurel, he narrowed his eyes, and made the mental note to have a talk with Aurel; nothing serious, nothing accusatory, just a talk. Partly to cement Gelemort’s apparent neutrality towards RIOTE, no matter how accurate that was to say, but also just to intimidate him a little, to show that Wolfy was most certainly not afraid of him, as so many people were at the coronation.

“Why did he do it? I don’t know. Why did Drachma go down this road of bloodshed, destroying themselves and the world, only to turn away and go home? I don’t know. What started this whole mess? I don’t know. I think we were all acting pretty stupid those few months, it was a weird time for everyone. But I’ll come back to that. What happened to Dietrich was that he laid a trap.”

Even Wolfy was dumbstruck by this, if only briefly. Did she… Did she just call the war stupid…? And then, not taking a pause for that to sink in, carried on noting Dietrich’s downfall? Even he hadn’t gotten to that level of directness, that boldness. It was admirable. Perhaps now, more than ever, Gelemort would more diligently build on their already strong alliance, or at the least, friendship, with Creta… Rachel would be an incredibly strong leader, he knew that already.

“Dietrich laid a trap, thinking that he could crush the Drachman forces in the palm of his hand as they marched through our cities just to attack Amestris. He let RIOTE walk in, the trap backfired, and he was put into a comatose state. I don’t doubt the genius of the trap, and I’m not going to call Dietrich a bad king. He wasn’t, but here’s a question; why trap them at all? Why not negotiate? Why not bring Hans, Vanity and himself around a table and talk this out? If not that, why not hit Drachma back before they came into the country? Why not bring the fight to them? Why not react, whether with peace or with violence? Why stand still and hope he could twist them into his palm?”

That made quite a bit of sense, actually… Dietrich had always been confident, perhaps far too much so. Wolfy could believe that he would do something like that, allowing RIOTE to try and get to him so he could nab the whole pot, instead of taking it in bundles, victory by victory. He’d played chess with Aurel, and bet that he could win with a board of pawns, letting Aurel take the rest, and he found out moments before the end that pawns along, could not a king, defend. Quite the opposite, actually; his defenses had been weakened in order to let RIOTE in for the kill, and the honeybadger was only hindered by the venom of the cobra. That is, if Aurel was a honeybadger, and Dietrich was a cobra.

He carried on listening to Rachel speak, but he’d heard quite enough already, the rest was merely icing on the cake she was baking with her words. Quite an eloquent speaker, she was, and if the speech was preplanned like this, then it was convincing enough to allow Wolfy to carry on believing it was legitimately being made up on the spot. And even if it wasn’t, it took skill to A) do so with such passion, conviction, and tact, as to make it believably unscripted in appearance, and B) a far shinier, larger, set of sheer brass balls than most people would ever wear in their lifetime, and the charisma to essentially bash whoever she wanted with no repercussions, or at least, no repercussions at that moment. Masterfully executed, either way one looked at it.

As she carried on, her speaking got stronger, more powerful, more riveting, until the crowd began to chant her name, and Wolfy joined in, applauding with his loudest claps and cheers. He’d have to speak with her soon enough, but he had other things on his agenda first. As she closed out the speech, he’d already begun to stride across the pews to where the great Aurelius Schwarz was seated, alongside two girls, one of whom clung to him as if she were his daughter, and the other who quite resembled him, and could have been his daughter, but for her age. Standing behind the man, he waited for Aurel to stand, and, with little warning, as previously, with Yoshi, he placed a hand on Aurel’s shoulder, pushing down slightly as he flipped into the air, landing opposite Aurel, now facing him, and enveloped the man who’d caused so much chaos into a powerful hug, before stepping back, almost as quickly as it had begun, and offering a hand for Aurel to shake. Time for business, it seemed.

No matter how mad he seemed, no matter how crazily he acted, Wolfgang Murinyo was never without some form of a plan, and this was no different; he eyed Aurel with almost a friendly look, and an amiable smile, but underneath, hidden from the most watchful of eyes, it was a calculating stare. Shock value, flashiness, and the element of surprise. These three were the biggest advantages Gelemort held over any other nation. They didn’t have the strongest defenses, offenses, nor the most superior in any one division of the military. What they did have, however, was something only perhaps Carraig could even come close to matching: madness. They were unpredictable, and their leader was no exception. Quite the opposite in fact, he was the least predictable of them all. “Aurelius Schwarz! Pleasant surprise ta see youse here.” Glancing at the winged child and the woman, he cocked an eyebrow, not quite breaking his grin. “Never pictured you’s a family guy, Aurel.” Turning his attention from the girls back to Aurel, he retracted his hand, whether Aurel had shaken his or not, and reached for a scone from a tray one of the fine serving people had been carrying off to some kitchen or something, likely as part of clean-up duty, since the coronation seemed to be heading towards a club somewhere. He’d catch up later, he supposed. “Guess there’s a good few things I dunno ‘boutcha, eh? Didn’t know ya didjer own hair, for one.” Laughing a little at his own jab at his hair, which was, admittedly, styled rather nicely, as Rachel had noted, he took a bite of the scone and swallowed the tasty bread-thing before speaking again. “Soooo, whaddaya think’ve Rachel’s speech?” Letting the man answer, he shortly after gave his own opinion. “Pers’nally, I liked it. She’s got some good ideases and crap, eh? Yah. Welp, gonna head over to the limo’n stuff, a’ight? Sooooo, seeya there, if’n youse is goin. If not, you toats oughta come over fer tea’re golf’re some crap sometime, eh?” And, to avoid the awkward saying-goodbye-and-then-walking-beside-him thing, he took a longer route to the limo, making sure to have Valentino do… Something. And then climbed in, and took a seat, locating Rachel in the back with a grin, and a hand extended, not wanting to scare the holy bejesus out of her with one of his hugs of doom and scariness. Sitting somewhere near her, or at least within good distance, without talking over someone’s head, he spoke up in a cheery voice.

“Heyyo!~ If’n youse dunno me, I’m Wolfgang Murinyo II, king’a Gelemort and such. Might know me, might not, I think I been down ta yer club ‘afores, though, so iunno. Either way, I just wanna tells ya, that speech was friggin awesome. I’m gonna miss old Diet, but hey, I think he’d be proud’a his successor. I betcha you’ll do great, Rach. On a side note, what says youse to a cup’a joe, sometime? Gotta talk politics and crap eventually, I figure it might’s well be outside a stuffy office, eh?” And, compliments slung at her, and offer for a nice friendly chat extended, he sat back in his seat and relaxed, as the rest of the leaders got in, and vroom went the wheels and such. T’was going to be a fun time after all.

As Rachel finished her speech Finnick whooped and cheered as loud as he could with some of his fellow task force members. His usual get up traded for the smart black and red jacket and waist coat. His hair still messy but free from his beanie today. As the speech finished a soft tug on his hand reminded him who he was with today.

He smiled down at the girl. As she looked up at him with red eyes. Light almost white blonde hair was neatly brushed out and held back by a clip on tiny top hat decorated with red and black ribbons. Her Lolita dress matched his outfit only with added frills and petticoat. She truly looked like a doll. A light amount of eye shadow around her eyes but no lip gloss stained her lips. As she pressed them lightly to his hand he felt them move. 'Can we go see him?' she said via moving her lips to his skin. He nodded before leading her through the crowd.

Greeting co workers as he passed through he soon spotted the man. A red head on his arm. Coughing nervously he headed over. "Um...hello...sir....your highness..." He flailed slightly panicking. Unsure what to address him as. He could feel Amelia hiding in his legs behind him. Suddenly shy now facing her idol. He grinned scratching his head. "Um my name is Finnick Maddock....and this is my sister Amelia. She has been wanting to meet you...you are her idol sir...." He gave a sharp yelp when the toe of a pretty platformed shoe impacted with the back of his calf. "Amelia...stop being so shy...." He frowned slowly dragging the girl out much to her silent protests. She stared up at Gavin with wide eyes. Lashes fluttering with each blink.

“Well, we can get there in three minutes after I’ve finished.” ...Just how much did she expect from them!? Three minutes was impossible even if they stopped traffic and went twenty miles over of the speed limit. Everything about her predictions was moot at best--a hyperbole whose purpose was entirely destructed by ignorance! Elastor had to look away again, practically livid with horror. A sheen glowered over his icy blue eyes, eating at all that could have been pleasant. Franklin would never live it down--the man would get a stern talking to--that man...that man. His whitened fists loosened into limp palms at his sides, dangling as uselessly as his position made him. His teeth grit together. Breakfast. Garlic. Three minutes. The other man stopped eating to Ela's relief, but what he said next made the redhead empathize with suicidal adolescents. Pretty late. OH YEAH PRETTY LATE. They were going to be WAY more than pretty late. In fact, they were about to be the laughing stock of the ENTIRE world. This was SERIOUS. What were they doing arguing about it in the kitchen WHEN THEY SHOULD BE LEAVING!? Ela's hair swiped up as he quickly turned his head away, taking a deep breath to attempt to keep his hands far away from his sword. There were more important things. Hardly. There were still more important things. There were-- “Urrgh! Why do I put up with this?” His head snapped back around followed by a sigh of relief. They were finally going. Great.

He upped the pace of the company in the direction of the limo, walking adjacent to keep their feet moving quickly. The doors were unlocked, and they both slipped into the back, but the moment Rachel entered, she was already lost to them. He shook his head, tapping his fingers fervently against the leather so as to busy himself with something other than strangling the life out of Franklin's neck. At least he was driving fast now (though compared to his own driving it was hardly considered a crawl). Also, it wasn't that she was sleeping; it was how she was sleeping that really got to him. Crudely curled up into a ball, in her irresponsible weariness, she had forgotten she was wearing a gown of any sort. If he desired to, he could witness in real time what many of her soldiers bought and sold in x-rated magazines. He cringed, his fingers stilling. What most would not see in rear view mirrors Franklin could observe easily...yet he was choosing not to. Maybe he wasn't so b--kafump! Ela's head smacked into the ceiling, jarring his thoughts and attention completely. He looked wildly out the back window, squinting at a speed bump sign. What, did he not see it? Was he blind?! “I take it you want everyone to see your ass when we get there?” So he had seen it, though it was a different it. Ela frowned again, crossing his arms and choosing the safe route of staying out of it completely.

“So, what’s got a bee in your bonnet? I get it, being late’s not the queenly thing, but I don’t see why you’re so nervous.” The Royal Guard blinked and pointed at himself as if to inquire whether or not Rachel was referring to him. She was looking at him; she seemed to be. Was he nervous? This was...considered nervous? Was that what she was titling this emotion as--this frantic, unsettling feeling that was encroaching upon his usually settled mind? Then so be it. But he certainly wasn't wearing a bonnet. ...And he wasn't afraid of bees. “Did you want some bread too?” She offered the cold pizza box equip with grease stains from the night before, rank with the foul odor of...garlic.

"..." He wanted to cry. Like that little boy before he lost his parents--the little boy who had an older sister that'd listen to any woe--that little boy before wrongfully charged with murder. No, no, he did not want garlic bread. He...he wanted to get there on time because that would be what Dietrich would do. He wanted her to appeal to all the leaders of the world because that would prevent unnecessary war. He wanted--well, that didn't matter anymore. He saw now that she was a different person than what his expectations were; she could not be Dietrich. She just couldn't. All she could do right now was fill the role he ought to do, but was stripped of... He massaged the top of his head where he hit it and glared ahead. "Thank you, but I must decline." Upright, uptight, he couldn't help but feel responsible for a nation he called home, for what would it be if they had prevented their King from an immortal's kiss?

The car stopped, an exchange transpiring that Ela chose yet again to remain distant from. It was better this way; He had only guide her to the best of his ability within the command of his rank. Even if only a little, they were spared precious minutes of tardiness. Maybe even one day...she would be there on time. With his help, perhaps her ways would change, grow molded into her position, and she would realize just where she was standing. “Park up and I’ll see you in there. Don’t miss the speech.” Was this...an omen? His eyebrow twitched.

"Certainly… your majesty." Was Frankin not going to do anything at all!? This wasn't a joke. He'd grant her her every wish and suggest nothing? This was where they differed; he was the type of man that understood her intentions, but chose to do nothing to prevent it. Franklin had no place in this world of politics; his choices could easily lead to their downfall. Cast to the curb, Ela stood there beyond bewildered, looking fairly lost as he followed the Queen down the London streets. She could be snipered from that window, that balcony, that van... The list went on. She was in danger and he was her only guard. Were her expectations that high that she thought herself completely safe on the streets with only him? No, no it was stupidity...neglect of thought. It had to be.

“Well Captain Elastor Ito, get everyone ready to direct people to the club after I’m done with my speech."

He faltered in his step, "Excuse me, what?"

"I might need someone to come with me when I have a chat with the world’s leaders; you’re free to choose who.”

He paused a moment in mild discomfort. "I will select myself then." It was the only way he'd ensure it to be done the right way. "I will accompany you to the utmost of my ability." A faint bow only faint because a pizza box was tossed at his face.

“And find a bin for that, would you? I’d do it myself but… well… duty calls, you know?" Yeah, he knew...clearly more effectively than she. He remained there on the corner, dumbfounded and alone among a crowd of uppity dressed righteous. She melded into them and was gone. He turned blankly to a trashcan right beside where they had been standing and dropped it in.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. As the congregation took their seats, Ela looked over them, scanning the premises among others much like himself, hunting viciously for any sign of aggression. It would be met with their wrath. “...And with these pledges, I now pronounce that you, and only you, have the right that has been passed on for centuries; the right to wear this crown, and take the duties as Queen of Creta.” There was something grand and horribly disconcerting about the entire ordeal, but he swallowed both feelings and cleared himself completely of all judgement. It didn't matter what he thought now; this was his job--his duty. He scaled down the aisle, looking about people's feet for weapons, raised his eyes to the ceiling to scan for any indication of revolt, took in all eye movements of those who dared remove their eyes from the scene, and carefully radioed to the other soldiers also doing the same. That was when it happened. He had the radio to his lips, whispers of codes flowing when...

"I shall serve Creta and lead her… her…” His head whipped to the stage, eyes wide. No. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this with a straight face.” His skin crawled. The sound of the paper ripping felt like his very soul. What was all this then? What did she think this was for? This was tradition of their great nation, hopeful gatherings of peace, and a change of gears for the fate of mankind...in the trash like that pizza box. All of it. Ela turned away, staring up at the garish ceiling. Why? The paper was thrown into the row of world leaders, effectively hitting them, ridiculing them, and making Creta as a whole appear like a country of clowns. “That’s what these people think the world is; a list of dos and don’ts, written up by business moguls and lords and ladies and the rich!” The rich of mind... He moved to the corner just barely overlooking the stage. If an assassin wanted to take her now, he wasn't quite sure if he could stop them. It made sense...right now for anything to stop her. Someone stop her. Talking about Lord Dietich as if she knew him...describing herself veiled in shadow. That wasn't where she belonged. They were the ones who lurked in the shadow of the light she was supposed to bleed. The way was offset; her speech was spiraling them into one of the worst defeats Creta would ever taste.

“I’m here and Dietrich’s not. Here’s what happened to Dietrich, what really happened to Dietrich.” He steeled himself. For the worst. And so it came. Had he not been on this job, he might not have noticed Aurelius' very alive state in the world leader's section. What the reports stated were now wrongfully proved. But instead of giving a coronation speech, Rachel was giving them a history lesson, irking more than a few people including himself. The evidence was already before them, why speak what should be left unspoken? She was asking for conflict, begging it upon them... It was a mistake. Then came the questions--the variance of immature questions falling from her mouth as if she dared understand what was factored around Dietrich's plans. She was speaking this...before them all--all involved right now. That audacity... while he smirked at it was going to kill them all.

“Now let’s have ourselves a party!" Elastor snapped out of it, staring blankly at the figure on the stage that was still somehow alive. Her motivational speech while uplifting and grand and crowd-inspiring...was not a speech made for a Queen. This was a rally not a coronation. This was truly a changing world. And he wasn't sure if it was changing for the good.

[EXIT THREAD]

(Permission to dolly Ela to the club/say he helped direct them there).

“I could wonder the same about you.” The chancellor's rumble of a voice was filled with unrequited anger very much expected, but so soon? Hardly took much to upset the man...or so it seemed. A cadaverous smirk was fit to his lips effortlessly, cast away as if it were just a toy. "Now, you should move on. This is not your place."

"Must one own something in order to be a part of it? Such an aristocratic way of thought will not save you, my friend." He let a laugh slide, mismatched eyes filled with amusement and intrigue. This man did not know anything. What was it like, he wondered, to be so lost in the dark that one was unable to recognize a light when it was shed? Aurelius shook his head, raven hair tickling his chin. "If ever you wonder on what it is I speak, come to me and I might spare you the inquiry." He turned away, having accomplished already just what he had intended: planting the seed. Nyx and Tatyana were facing his leave now, both equally looking just as he expected. Odd how much of a family they had suddenly become...as if he had known them both all his life. Nyx, granddaughter of Evelyn, was more than simple to see through and gauge. Tatyana, on the other hand, was someone he did not know, could not accessibly understand, and who easily eluded him, but that was because she knew him so well. A daughter from the future and himself from the past. The three of them together made up each facet of time, keeping the balance as perfectly as he would like it.

He found his seat viably near to the loud and superfluous Wolfgang Morinyo of Gelemorté, wielding the Ciel dominion with childlike silliness. The loud clapping and cacophonous shout outs spewing from the man who refused to take a seat was more than a little...distracting. Though there were times he did not necessarily find the motivational words motivating enough to partake in attending. His eyes would often wander, until the Queen faltered. And when she did, only then did she have his full attention. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this with a straight face.” Apologizing would not grant her forgiveness...not from the speechwriter that is. He sat forward, folding his hands together atop his crossed knee. Now the true test was afoot. A sheering sound echoed along with audience gasps as her given words were torn to shreds. His eyes were ablaze now, calculating even as her careless throw was unmindfully aimed at himself. The crumpled ball bounced off the top of his head and landed in the lap of the man beside him: Yoshida Izanagi. Aurel didn't seem to notice or to care; his attention was focused solely on her next words. Well, those that came after her swig of Irn Bru.

It was more or less a history lesson he already knew, but it was not in the contents of her speech where he found interest; it was instead the spices in which her plans were buried. These small hints none normal could infer; however, Aurelius was looking for them, and find them he did: "...only realised recently...only noticed it recently...the world’s changing...younger...not as smart...wasn’t very good at school...lazy...nightclub owner without royal blood...a woman...voted as queen..." What person in possession of power would downgrade themselves to such an extent--leak their weaknesses, failures, and misconceptions to the public the moment they were fitted with a crown? Ah, this is what they voted in--this woman clearly unworthy to step to the plate. No, there was a scheme in her words--a ploy with which to gather pity. This was child's play--a card dealt in a game of Old Maid. He had only to shake his head, feeling again so recently he had already had Creta beat.

The gears shifted, the stand-in for Drachma feeling the frost gather just as much as the next guy. And here it came. A smug look was coerced into his expression, acting the role he was meant to play: 'the hated.' And here 'the loved' now spoke of him, adding so much icing it was flattering. If only ignorance could speak. Ah, what would it say in this moment, he wondered. Like a song it must be! He uncrossed his legs, meeting the Queen's eyes with his own alight with gratitude. It was as if she were already announcing her retreat, giving in to all that Aurelius Carston Schwarz stood for. What was there not to be thankful for? “Drachma attacked because one man went on a ridiculous quest that he decided was far more important that the lives of his people, and the people of everyone else around him." It was so perfectly played that even the leaders of the populace were fooled. His smirk grew, barely containing the cackle on the tip of his tongue. "He sent the world spiralling into chaos, and then shot himself. Looking better, by the way, Aurry.” Such a quest it was that it required dying once. Hm, the shock was less intense than he expected. Perhaps their expectations of him were growing. Even better. “Like what you’ve done to hide it. No one would even guess." Guesses were hardly useful in acquiring the truth, why make them? They were dangerous and compromised success always. Hiding it? He wasn't even trying. His own story--his life--where he was from only a seldom few would ever know. And the rest? It wasn't even within the logical spectrum of conjecture.

"You need to tell me how you do your hair, you must've been a hairdresser in another life.” Out loud, Aurel shed a small laugh, slipping a hand underneath the long tail at his back. He flipped it forward with a garish gaze, letting free a display of personality he'd normally conceal, for this was an informal occasion befit such a spectacle. “Why did he do it? I don’t know." Why did he do it? Surely, there must be a reason? Surely, the acts of terrorism and those flocking under his lead must have some sort of unannounced ordeal? But there Rachel Ascot stood on a golden stage, wearing a crown cast in the bloodshed of many before her without even thinking to direct the question to the man wielding the very topic in which she spoke. Perhaps she thought he would not answer. Why not...try? Amusing, these people were--so wrapped up in themselves that they forgot magnifying glasses were able to be seen through both sides. The rest was speculation until...

"[Dietrich] still saw things as Creta versus the world, as Aurelius sees RIOTE versus the world, and everyone else from this world that is now gone." Versus? Where indeed had that world sprung up from? This was so highly entertaining. So, that was what she thought he thought, did she? Versus--like a game of chess lodged to the board with nowhere else to go. No. How far from knowing was she. RIOTE versus the world? The World--that pale white essence in conflict with Father--or should he say Chancellor Hans? How trifle her thought processes were. But it was truly what they all were led to believe. In some ways, it was better that way. In others, it was a lonely conquest. With The World defeated, surely true chaos would preside. That was opposite of his intention. So completely. RIOTE was The World with which to coexist in balance with Father, only then to destroy the very definition of that balance in order to recreate an unchurning perfection unable to shift from side to side again. The end goal, met only in dreams, poems, stories, etc. was an idealism of the pacifists in which only the king of chaos could ever hope to forge.

"We do attack and chronically backstab each other. We don’t work towards a better world as a singular united people. We do let huge conglomerates and businesses feed off our people like leeches. We don’t consider our actions in a global sense, but only in our own tiny pockets. We do try to trick each other into doing what we want, gently squeezing their balls until they bow to our demands. We don’t fight for our people, or for all people, whether we’re Cretan or Drachman or an alchemist or part of the blue man group or the kind of person who puts on their socks before their trousers." Awareness. Aurel flopped back in his chair, checking his cellphone for any new messages or emails. What a convenient invention it was. ...He still didn't really know how to work it fully...or halfway. He probably understood one-fourth of its capacity. Of which involved the concept--er rather--the existence of the Internet and how to send and receive emails and/or text messages. That was where his knowledge hit a wall. Anyway, clearly Queen Rachel was not aware of RIOTE nor their intentions, otherwise, her speech today would certainly be different. He stopped paying too much attention to each of her words, and started fiddling with the strange touch screen buttons on the device. He was pretty sure that he somehow changed the settings into Xingese when Rachel said something worth chuckling at: “I think that when the people want wars, they’ll be the ones declaring them!” How then did wars start if not by people declaring them? Her politics were elementary, spewing this uninsightful slander of the human race (not that half of him cared). From today onward, he could consider Creta already fallen, but to do so would, of course, be unwise.

"I shall serve all people! I shall do all for the people! I shall do for all people! I will protect all lands in times of peace! I will fight for all lands in times of war! I will heal all lands in times afterward! I shall do this in the will not of one country but of all countries!" But imagine...just for a moment a world without the transition between war and peace--the need to heal--the need to fight. That constant struggle, gone. To need not imagine such a thing lingers so rightfully on the horizon, power within the grasp of those who can not just see it but utilize it. From witnessing a fate-sealed conversation between The World and Father, Aurelius had already changed the foundation of that duality.

“Queen Rachel the first, over and out.” He stood up, brushing himself off as if he were already left in the dust, for she was charging along by herself...in the wrong direction. Humorously so. He was about to turn to the two lovely girls seated to his right when he noticed someone approaching through the roaring, chanting crowd. Why if it wasn't the very man he wanted to order sniped throughout the entire speech! He threw on a false smile that was hardly false and more so beguiling. A hand landed on his shoulder. Odd. Then arms fell around him suddenly, a heat rising to his cheeks and breath catching in his lungs. So taken by surprise he was that Aurel was caught dead on his feet in shock. It ended quickly, the man with heterochromia iridum swayed slightly, grabbing onto the seat for leverage against gravity. A bewildered look was turned to the leader of Gelemorté, 'Why?' written all over his face.

They shook hands, silently. Behind this man's eyes--the madness--the reckless insanity was something that beheld Aurel: calculation. He was not blind enough to miss it, and more than worthy enough not to be thwarted by the uncanny feeling of surprise. "Aurelius Schwarz! Pleasant surprise ta see youse here.”

"Undoubtedly." A sly smirk.

“Never pictured you’s a family guy, Aurel.”

"There are times when one must step away from the misconception of 'picturing' in order to partake in reality, Wolfgang Morinyo." The man's reaction appeared to be a craving for a...scone. Aurel found himself nodding in approval at the action. He too, would have done the same after encountering that flawed thought process.

"Guess there’s a good few things I dunno ‘boutcha, eh? Didn’t know ya didjer own hair, for one.”

"Neither did I," he laughed, touching the tips of his untamed hair. "There are many mysteries, aren't there." Wolfy finished his scone, Aurel considered taking one, but stopped himself. Could be a trick of consumerism. Best fight the inclination.

"Soooo, whaddaya think’ve Rachel’s speech?"

He paused, looking at Tatyana to gather his thoughts. "I thought it was rather decent for a improved speech riddled with pacifism. The crowd surely liked it as well as yourself. It was hard not to notice." He nodded, eyeing some of the wary glances directed at their gathering. "She failed to contemplate one very important topic, however. Did she honestly believe that a terrorist group hellbent on versing the world could ever hope to conquer a country...and once such as Drachma? Laughable. Entirely."

“Pers’nally, I liked it. She’s got some good ideases and crap, eh?"

"Certainly for one of her standing." He couldn't wait to see her face (or more so he hoped he was present) when she realized everything she had said today was a candy-coated misconception contrived merely for the purpose of fame.

"Yah. Welp, gonna head over to the limo’n stuff, a’ight? Sooooo, seeya there, if’n youse is goin. If not, you toats oughta come over fer tea’re golf’re some crap sometime, eh?”

"Golf? What was that? he looked confused for a second. "Well, seeing as I would most likely be killed on sight, I will not be joining you all. Please enjoy yourselves, however." He smiled genuinely and waved the man off, wondering just why he had hugged him and then shook his hand...

That aside, Aurelius meandered away from the cliques of people, carting Tatyana and Nyx with him. In order to avoid being assassinated and/or captured and imprisoned, he thought it best to immediately board the helicopter back to their home in Drachma. A piece of paper could only protect them so far...or so the fine print read.

Aurel finished his chat with Hans and they made their way to the seats. How ironic they were sitting by the tall man known as Shogun Izanagi Yoshida. Even funnier that such a simple man was named after a God. Laughable, even he was as weak as everyone else. He held no power and yet he sat in his seat like he had the ability to take on anyone beside him. Funnier still, was the cringe he gave when Aurel sat right beside him. Tatyana almost laughed out loud. How did the Shogun feel, knowing Aurel was the reason that he had the power he had and yet at the same time... People were entertaining at times.

Every word was the same. how odd that she could recognize every single breath was the same, each pause. It was everything she knew, written in stone. Such an odd concept that made her head hurt. Time itself knew she didn't belong and she wondered.. what might be the re-precautions in being around a time she could not touch. It was a fragile globe in her hands, the marvelous orb that she could easily abolish with the slightest slip. A tap to the surface would lead to an earthquake somewhere miles away. How frustrating, she wanted to explore the possibilities, to take this world and rearrange it but there was a fear. The slightest scratch could emit a whole race of people or even her own existence. Tatyana paused to look over towards her left. He sat there, content it seemed with the speech, yet annoyed about something. Her own ears could hear a certain leader's rather loud mannerisms that were slightly irritating. Her eyes narrowed and a silent smile played at her lips. She had let Nyx sit directly beside Aurel, sandwiching her between two adults, just as she had done in the future. Aaa.. time was such a confusing thing. At one point Nyx towered over Tatyana's body. Small hands could remember the grasp of her warm palm in her hand and yet, Tatyana had waltzed into a new world. The other side of the mirror; the reversed card. It was a crime to kill an she was certainly suffering for it. Yet, was it fair to have to suffer for preserving balance?

Her lips fell into a frown, she was completely ignoring the speech, but she remembered the point of it. Her heart was often torn, standing in a world that she was a ghost in. Some things could not be helped and as she let her mind wander.. Would eating a piece of cake lead to starvation of one such person..? Consequences.. she was so familiar with them, but they were as unpredictable as the crazy man behind them, yet even HE was predicted and written within a book.

The speech ended and Tatyana rose to her feet. Her father soon after, was upon his own, but something in the air was unsettling. There was nothing she could do, as the madman behind them had placed his arms on RIOTE's leader and Tatyana felt her own self cringe in disbelief. This was- Well, this was Wolfgang. He was known for being bizarre and oddly observant? “Never pictured you’s a family guy, Aurel.”

How had he known she was his family? It gave her a slight of her skin being covered in little prickles. No.. people weren't supposed to know that. Hell, even her own father wasn't supposed to know, but it didn't take long. How her fun had been ruined when he figured it out, but a new game was in play, that allowed her to toy with what she knew and he didn't. Yes Tatyana was a start and an end all at the same time, a ticking time bomb it felt. If she sneezed wrong would she blow up Carraig? That would certainly be a most intriguing idea.

It was through half a mind that Tatyana laughed lightly at her own thoughts, but not loud enough to be heard. Her hand slipped upon Nyx's only by instinct. Some things never left and that was one that would forever plague Tatyana. She adored holding her sister's hand, even if they were not biologically related. A true family started with the binds to a heart. How few she had in this world, so was it bad that Tatyana clung to the small things she knew.

It was then she found her father staring at her as he thought. Tatyana blinked innocently. She was not paying attention to conversation the two had. For a moment she worried he was going to ask her opinion on something, but was very thankful when he returned his look to the company. A silent sigh of relief came from her. That was a bullet dodged. Her inquisitive mind often wandered and left her oblivious to conversation, and instead pulled into their surroundings. Aurel bid his adieu to the King and then made his way to the helicopter, with the both of them in tow. Tatyana would not let go of Nyx's hand for the life of her. After all, it took only a second for Tatyana to fall into the past to begin with and that second might be what made her lose Nyx. A flicker of terror flooded her body and Tatyana had to take a breath. It was okay.. it would be okay. The smirk on her lips always played despite how lost and confused she really was. Oh well, it made people wonder and not a lot of people would mes with someone so sinister.

As they reached their ride, Tatyana spoke up, more towards Nyx than anyone. "I say we have our own celebration. How does that sound? Perhaps some ice cream and a nice cup of cider?" Her emerald eyes focused on Nyx, the hand released so she could get up. In a way Tatyana felt bad. She hoped that Nyx would not be upset with the sort of clinginess that Tatyana had, but it was only natural. She knew Nyx was incredibly strong and smart, but it was only a soft instinct that nestled in Tatyana's bones that made her protect them both. She too climbed in, giving the area an amused look, before vanishing to her seat and humming the lullaby she loved so. It was after all, a good day.

[EXIT]

There was a lot of nothing happening. Aaron didn't mind. Hell it was a relief to do NOTHING. He didn't have to worry about bullies, because it was a formal event and he didn't have to worry about dumbasses because people were around them to occupy said morons. If it weren't for the massive crowd all around him, hell, Aaron might have thought for one fleeting moment he enjoyed social events. Of course his luck had different orders and would fuck with him no matter what. No sooner had he let out a sigh of relief, people started screaming and rampaging like those old 'Godzilla' movies. He imagined sterotypical 'Asians' running around, until he SAW stereo typical 'Asians' and felt suddenly ridiculous. Why he held his breath, not even HE knew.

"You." What was it about the word 'you' that always made Aaron react. It never failed. When someone screamed 'YOU!' Aaron always turned to look. Pronouns toyed with life. Whatever the answer was, the rough computer nerd turned to see a ... very strange man. A finger was jabbing aggressively in Aaron's bubble, but the man continued to speak.

"You're supposed to be the guy I'm working with?"

"What?" Instinctive response to everything that happened. Those randomass moments where he didn't know what the HELL was going on? Yeah.. that was always a 'what?' moment. One double-take later, he wondered if his drink had been drugged again, but then again.. what did he care? Deciding to just go along with it, he nodded and stared at the unknown man. Not two seconds later, this new friend was speaking of his want of fighting. Well fuck. That WOULD be Aaron's luck. He was about to interject, but his eyes were pulled towards something happening. One man flipped another man. What a glorious start to the day.

And so, Aaron had been shoved into guard duty. What was this shit? He wasn't some sort of knight in shining armor! NO! Aaron was a computer hacker (or at least closer related to that). When the hell had bouncer been slipped into his job explanation? Had he missed the fine print SOMEWHERE? His eyes narrowed at the queen's direction in annoyance. Dammit, sometimes he hated his job and everything that went along with it. Okay, so maybe he didn't really hate it, but he had to admit, it really aggravated him that he was babysitting. Despite how annoyed he was, though, his mouth remained shut and Aaron only nodded to his company.

One speech later, the people who had harvested chaos were gone and Aaron was still alone with the strange mecha-man. The party was dying down and it seemed nothing bad had happened. Aaron was okay with that. In fact, he was ready to move onto the next exciting event. With a yawn, he stretched his arms and looked around. So this Queen's speech kind of went the way he expected: completely different than to be expected by a 'queen'. On one hand, at least she looked professional. On the other, she had gone off on a tangent that wasn't assumed. In all, it was enjoyable and Aaron had a choice to make. Mingle or leave.

Naturally he chose the latter. He hated crowded places, so with a shrug to his new friend, he muttered an awkward. "See you around?" And shuffled his way out of the premises.

[exit]

Oh this was such a mess..... Things could never go smoothly ever. They never had quite with Dietrich, so the fact that things weren't faring much better now with Rachel was hardly surprising to the young Captain as she stood to attention now by the door where her new Queen would step through to address the leaders of the various countries gathered. She could see that everyone else was rather restless, some casting wary glances towards the leader of RIOTE which certainly were warranted. He had caused quite.... the issues between their countries. Her hands tightened into fists at her sides as she stood as still as a statue, her back straight with her eyes gazing straight ahead. She may as well be the royal guards with their atrocious hats that tourists always tried to crack (she was quite used to it from being posted about the White House during Dietrich's reign. Many people had been disappointed that they had been unsuccessful). She could see her younger siblings clamber about in their chairs as they heard that the Queen was there, inwardly smiling at their excitement.

She was hardly surprised at the fact that Queen's entrance since it was from a different door, but no matter. What mattered was that the Royal Guard was stationed where she would be giving her speech keeping their careful watch over her well-being. Vivian truly hoped that no one was planning anything.... disruptive today. All sat as the robbed man called them to order, her hands unclenching at her sides as she took a small calming breath for herself. The Queen wasn't the only one whose nerves were feeling a little bit tight today. After all, this was her first real day back on the job and it was a BIG one at that. The only time her eyes moved through the whole swearing in was when the crown was lifted and carried to Rachel, the last of the ceremony occurring before it was finally placed atop her head. She had to breathe a sigh of relief that all was going well so far, her body remaining as straight as a tree as Rachel stepped forward to give her speech. She could only imagine what the new Queen might say. Especially considering it appeared she stopped reading her script. Vivian cracked the smallest of smirks on her pale features, probably one of the ONLY ones smirking at the new Queen expressing herself. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this with a straight face.” She had expected nothing less, and she had only met with her new queen once. It left her with quite the impression, but an accurate one. She was no Dietrich, but Vivian did not doubt that Rachel would be an excellent leader to her people.

Though.... Vivian had to fight a sigh as the speech smacked off of Aurelius and into Izanagi's lap, the younger girl beside him stiffening quite visibly. That must be his sister for their features seemed similar enough to dictate as such. Oh dear. “Those words? They were written for me!” Her blue eyes were now fixed upon the Queen, their expression not one of horror or anything, just almost a wariness. It wasn't due to the Queen herself, it was more of what insanity might occur next and the reactions that might follow. “Not by someone I hired! Not by an orator, or a speechwriter! You know who wrote it? I don’t know either. Probably some intern. I was sent it last night, from the House of Lords. It was a list of things I could and couldn’t say. One of them was that I couldn’t mention the word Irn Bru! For fear of Barr! One of the people who wrote that piece of shit list has a major company in the soft drinks industry to thank for his wealth. With that in mind,” Oh dear.... Now Vivian had to fight facepalming as Rachel drew out a bottle and gulped down the brew. She saw Franklin in futility trying to reach the stage in time to try to pull Rachel together. It wouldn't work. “That’s what these people think the world is; a list of dos and don’ts, written up by business moguls and lords and ladies and the rich!”

There was a shifting in a row of chairs that she knew well, her father smirking as he leaned back a little and touched a hand to his chin, her mother leaning close to his ear to whisper something. Tristan and Julian were unreadable (unsurprisingly) but seemed amused, and the twins were loving it. Oh what a world would they grow up in Vivian had to wonder. But then, the Queen began to speak again. And the words were of a woman whom was ready for the position given to her, who was going to break the ideal mold that the royalty had been formed into. “I’m younger than him. I’m probably not as smart as him. I’m not even supposed to be here. I wasn’t very good at school, in fact I was really lazy. I’m a nightclub owner without royal blood in me, and a woman at that. While I was able to get enough support to be voted as queen, there’s plenty who think that only old, white skinned men who happened to be born a prince should ever wear this crown. And here I am.” This.... was true. Thankfully her own family was of the mind that if someone was fit to rule, then they were fit to rule no matter their blood. A very... radical thought for one of the old noble houses in Creta.

“I’m here and Dietrich’s not. Here’s what happened to Dietrich, what really happened to Dietrich.”

Vivian stiffened as her eyes locked back onto Rachel, the wariness returning with some concern leaking in. Uh-oh. This was not--“Drachma attacked because one man went on a ridiculous quest that he decided was far more important that the lives of his people, and the people of everyone else around him. He sent the world spiralling into chaos, and then shot himself. Looking better, by the way, Aurry.” Vivian's head bowed a little as she exhaled a small sigh, forcing herself to straighten as Rachel's voice lifted into the air again. “Like what you’ve done to hide it. No one would even guess. You need to tell me how you do your hair, you must've been a hairdresser in another life.” Oh... Oh dear... And there was no sign at all of the young Queen stopping her little tyraid at all. “Why did he do it? I don’t know. Why did Drachma go down this road of bloodshed, destroying themselves and the world, only to turn away and go home? I don’t know. What started this whole mess? I don’t know. I think we were all acting pretty stupid those few months, it was a weird time for everyone. But I’ll come back to that. What happened to Dietrich was that he laid a trap.” Her lips tightened since... she had failed. She had failed the King she had sworn to protect while she was off discovering the love that she now shared with Apos whom was absent from the proceedings. She hadn't been there to fight with the others to save their King. And she had come back in time to find him lying unresponsive in a coma.

“Dietrich laid a trap, thinking that he could crush the Drachman forces in the palm of his hand as they marched through our cities just to attack Amestris. He let RIOTE walk in, the trap backfired, and he was put into a comatose state. I don’t doubt the genius of the trap, and I’m not going to call Dietrich a bad king. He wasn’t, but here’s a question; why trap them at all? Why not negotiate? Why not bring Hans, Vanity and himself around a table and talk this out? If not that, why not hit Drachma back before they came into the country? Why not bring the fight to them? Why not react, whether with peace or with violence? Why stand still and hope he could twist them into his palm?” She wanted to bite her lower lip because she could not even think of an answer. If she had been there, if she had spoken with her King about his plan then she would attempt to truly think of a proper answer. Her own opinions did not matter enough on a grand scale, even if she was the second eldest of the Duchamp household of Creta. “And here’s that revelation I had. Dietrich fell not because he wasn’t smart enough to see the other options, but because he wasn’t allowed to. It wasn’t in the rules. It wasn’t in the list of dos and don’ts. He still saw things as Creta versus the world, as Aurelius sees RIOTE versus the world, and everyone else from this world that is now gone. We do attack and chronically backstab each other. We don’t work towards a better world as a singular united people. We do let huge conglomerates and businesses feed off our people like leeches. We don’t consider our actions in a global sense, but only in our own tiny pockets. We do try to trick each other into doing what we want, gently squeezing their balls until they bow to our demands. We don’t fight for our people, or for all people, whether we’re Cretan or Drachman or an alchemist or part of the blue man group or the kind of person who puts on their socks before their trousers. That’s what Dietrich saw. That’s what a lot of people still see. And the rest of us are sick of it.” Her lips did thin out into a small line now, remaining still as stone despite wanting to shift at the words that reached her ears. She had no right to speak otherwise, to share her opinion otherwise. Her duty was to the Crown and Country, not to her own ideals or beliefs.

“All of you have a duty to serve the world! When will you remember it? When will you see that the world isn’t your battlefield, that your actions and words affect more than those few that seem to circle you? The warriors you enlist, the bodyguards you hire, the friends you acquire, the tycoons you pay; these are the only people we see because that was the old world! And now?” For some reason a single Esparian man came to mind, raging at how his companion had just been stabbed through by an alchemists ice spikes, pointing his gun right at her with the belief that she had given the killing blow. The large panther at his side growled with the fury of having lost its mother, its friend, wanting to lash out at any possible enemy in the area. How she had stood there.... frozen. She felt the chill of Drachma's frost in her bones and she shivered. War... War never changes.* “Four leaders! Gone! Two wars beginning and over in a flash! Some would argue that they’re not over yet! So much death, so much pain, because the world’s outpaced you! We’ve changed, and you’re stuck dragging everyone by your choke chains into your own battles because that’s what you’ve always done! I don’t pretend to speak for the world’s people, but I think they’re beginning to lose their patience!”

Then.... then the world began to grow in its heat, and the chill began to melt from her bones. There were already alliances and friendships being born between militaries, her heart beginning to beat a little faster as she thought of Apos jumping out of that helicopter, of holding onto his toned body on that motorcycle as they went on their pilgrimage. Her words were rippling through the crowd, and Vivian only smiled ever so slightly as she stood by her Queen, now absolutely sure that she would do just fine in her new role. Her family rose with the others and clapped, though they did not cheer. Well, Amelie and Mikhael were, but they were young and charged with the righteous pulse that flowed through the whole crowd. Of the bond of brotherhood and tolerance that would bloom in the near future. “Now let’s have ourselves a party! Those who’ve got invited to the club afterwards, follow the fine soldiers of Creta, they’ll show you the way. My fellow monarchs, we’ll have a little chat on the way, my limo’ll fit you all. Please follow the guards to where it’s parked.” Wait what? Vivian's gaze darted to Rachel as she seemed unsure what to do for a moment. Oh boy.

So with a deep breath she descended into the crowd, beginning to aid the rest of her fellow guards in leading dignitaries to their vehicles that would take them home, while directing others towards the limo that would take them to the club. She guessed that it would be the club that Rachel had owned or worked at (whichever it was), and NOT that one she had heard some things about. What was it called.... Club Vivid? Owned by the Dresden Twins. That would be very... concerning to Vivian. Especially since she wasn't exactly sure that she should be following them to the club or not. Personally she would like to so that she could ensure the protection of the Queen, so may very well do it anyways. She certainly wouldn't wear her uniform, no... she'd wear something more appropriate to fit in with the nightlife crowd. Oi. She hoped some of her other outfits still fit. Once her task was complete, she snuck out and hurried home before making her way towards the club where all the world leaders were meeting.

*Fall Out 3 & New Vegas

"W-WHO DARES ATTACK ME?!" Aiya.... At least her brother hadn't ACTUALLY attacked the man, that would have ended very... poorly. Decorum really dictated that she have arrived properly and also not appeared as prickled as she was by Wolfy's blunder, but as she stood before the King of Gelemorte, she couldn't help but relax and let her smile be true. “Ahhh, nice ta meetcha then, Ms. Izanami!~” Her smile widened as she straightened up from her bow, tilting her head as she looked back at her brother when he began to speak. "Tell him not to touch me again. I do not appreciate being ambushed." Nodding, she was about to turn back and relay the words to the King but he had just poofed! Like one of their ninja's or something! Blinking twice, she looked about as her hands faltered before lowering a little to her sides. "The coronation should be starting, let us join the others." She puffed out her cheeks a little and sighed, "Of course brother."

Now she turned to Ryuji and grinned at him, bowing slightly to him as well even if he was below her station. It just felt polite since she had kind of butted in when he was the one that her brother had brought along with him officially, not her. It is a pleasure to see you again Tsuboi-kun. I apologize for stepping on your toes, I just... erm... I kind of came on my own and... I-I..." Words completely failed her as she tried to explain what had made her rush her when she had not been called. A blush rose to her cheeks as she smiled embarrassedly to him, "I'm sorry. Lets follow big brother." Yes yes, that was wise. Hurrying after the tall frame, she sat down beside him, remaining quiet as the speech began, her eyes widening as she just tore up the speech that had been prepared for her with such anger. Though Izanami was not mad, she didn't even take offense for how she addressed the crowd so. No.... the only thing she felt was a sort of kinship. Her lips tightened as she thought of that household that she had escaped, the endless pressures, lessons, reprimands, demands, of never being what they wanted her to be..... Of the "do's and don'ts" as Rachel said.

The only thing she prickled at was when the ball of paper came flying over and landed in her brothers lap, her "hackles" (if she were a dog) immediately raising as she quickly plucked it from his lap almost as soon as it had landed. Ok THAT she did not like. It wasn't an intentional move but still! Oooo she had half a mind to--- But as she glanced up to her brother he seemed lost in thought and somehow.... sad. Any inner rage she had been harboring immediately deflated as she sank a little more into her chair, glancing past him to Ryuji whom was rather stoic. What was her brother thinking right now? What were either of them thinking? But then Rachel began to talk of wars, of the countries banding together to make the world a better place. It turned her head and drew her attention, making her bite her lip as she bowed her head. She remembered how Izanagi had vanished to fight in the most recent war with Xing, of the battles that had been drilled into her head during those damned history lessons. She knew what RIOTE had done to their people before, and of the loss of Yuuko. But if she hadn't died, then her big brother wouldn't be where he was now! He wouldn't be able to do his job! She wouldn't be able to be as much of a help to him for she knew he would have never let her join the military so she could serve beneath him. He would have forbidden it, fought against her decision with every fiber of his being! It wouldn't have mattered if she chose a non-combatant role, he would fear for his little sister so.

But... would Izaya still be here if things hadn't happened the way that they had? No, no that was an entirely different matter! One was not related to the other! But Izanagi.... He had come back changed from the war. He thought she hadn't noticed, but she had. She had noticed it the instant that she saw him despite his attempts to keep it from her. With each passing day she saw a little more of him eaten away by the stresses of leading his own country, of demons that must haunt him so. “Now let’s have ourselves a party! Those who’ve got invited to the club afterwards, follow the fine soldiers of Creta, they’ll show you the way. My fellow monarchs, we’ll have a little chat on the way, my limo’ll fit you all. Please follow the guards to where it’s parked.” Neh? Mreowr? Oh! She had gotten so lost in thought she had completely missed part of the Queen's speech! That felt sort of rude of her, but she wasn't sure she would be able to really apologize or if she should. She felt a hand slip into her own, looking up to Izanagi and blinking twice. Was everything alright? She rose with him, her chocolate gaze shifting to Ryuji as Izanagi addressed him. "That suit forms well to you. I forgot to thank you for attending, Tsuboi-san. I know it must be a trouble trying to figure this all out." She had to smile at that, nodding in agreement for Tsuboi-kun did look quite dashing beside her brother!

The familiar tall frame turned towards her and she stared up with only affection in her eyes, "Izanami... You are always looking out for me, are you not? Thank you, imouto." She shook her head, having to fight off the sheepish expression that wanted to appear on her features. "It is no problem nii-san." She felt his hand tighten about her own, and she returned that squeeze, her day entirely made. She could not be happier right now! Well, maybe if her kitties were here (she hoped they were well!), but that was entirely impossible. "Tsuboi-san, tag along. I have a few things to do, before we can mingle once more." The way that he looked at her though within the next moment made her smile falter a little as she tilted her head slightly again. He was so serious now, had something happened that she didn't know about? "You know this world, better than I. Please, take me to the leader of Carraig. I wish to speak to him, while we are here." OH! Oh it was something small! That she could do!

Her smile returned with a vengeance as she nodded, "Mm!" And with that she jumped up to scan the crowd quickly before her eyes settled upon their target. The King of Carraig was speaking with Hans, Chancellor of Amestris, both with ladies in tow. Guards and Amestrian soldiers were not far behind them, and Izanami only turned to grin brightly at Tsuboi and her brother, following after them as she weaved expertly through the crowd. It wasn't until they made their way outside that they finally caught up to Gavin, finding that Hans remained with him. They must be traveling together to Rachel's after party. “Shogun Yoshida. An honor to meet you and your sister.” Izanami bowed respectfully to the Chancellor, quite pleasantly surprised by his speaking Aerugese. "A pleasure Chancellor Reinhardt." She replied before turning to the King of Carraig, "Excuse me, King Etheridge? May I present my brother, Shogun Izanagi Yoshida. I am Izanami Yoshida, his right hand and interpreter. He wished to speak with you." She began as they followed the crowd out further to the limousine, again pleasantly surprised when Hans offered a hand to help her into the limousine when she knew she wasn't allowed in with them. "Thank you Reinhardt-sama." She said quietly before slipping in, finding a spot that allowed her to remain beside her brother, her hand having to slip from his when she got in. Once he was in though, she placed it close enough to his to allow their pinkies to touch, her little way to let him know that she was still there for him. Oooo this was exciting! She had not expected this at all!

(( Not sure if I'm exiting or not, I guess it depends on people ))

Uncomfortable church pews? Check. Dignitaries, diplomats, reporters, and other such masters of the universe all crammed nearly shoulder to shoulder with only a general idea of what to expect? Check. Hideous hats? Double-check. Despite having been through such a process before with his own coronation and having gone to similar inaugurations for Creta and Amestris with their political revolving doors, there was an electric feeling Gavin couldn't quite put his finger on. Wasn't like he had anything to be nervous about; he had ring-side seats but there was no audience participation. But there was a feeling of the unknown tingling and lurking around the edges of the event that rode on the crest of the slightly panicked waves in the conversation.

The one consolation to all this madness so far was that Rosaleen was at his side, looked amazing, and after surviving her first real public appearance as such was now leaning against the King's side, and that.... had this effect of making things better. Rosaleen's thumb brushed over Gavin's hand soothingly, distracting him entirely and relaxing him at the same time. Ros really was incredible in that dress, and if there were some telepathic way to show her just how wonderful she looked, or tell her how much he loved having her with him there tonight. He smiled as he felt Ros lean closer, warm breath tickling up around his cheek and ear. "Having any flashbacks to your coronation?" His mouth spread in a silent laugh, turning her hand over to answer on the woman's palm. There was more he wanted to say, but didn't want the people in the rows around them to be privy to; Gavin, at that moment, would have loved to have taken a breath to just tell Rosaleen how terrified he was at his own coronation to the point where he was paranoid he'd say the wrong thing, despite his speech being programmed into his aid ahead of time. He had been worried that the automated voice would talk as calmly and mechanically as ever, but as he signed along with it, he'd get a cramp in his arms, sign the wrong thing, or stutter. There were a lot of things going through Gavin's mind that he'd have liked to say under the dull roar of the people smooshed together in that church, which made him take an extra moment or two to realize that they were all still sitting there. Waiting.

The new Queen Elect was lateish.

Well, that's always a good way to start things off, Gavin mused. Fashionably late on international television for her own coronation. He couldn't resist it as he pulled out his aid to type the words, setting the volume to as quiet as politely possible. "Bet it's the London traffic," he joked. Sure, Dublin had its bad traffic times, but the whole country only had a few million people in it total; sheep caused more slow driving than anything else on the roads at home. But finally Rachel graced the church with her presence to start the show. As the speech and ceremony began, Gavin relaxed into the pew (as much as one could relax in them), watching intently but with only a half-hearted interest at this point; her speech and the one that had been written for him as a boy could have been written by the same beady-eyed suit as the dry tempos matched and trudged through.

Until, of course, the speech came to a sudden halt. That wasn't a look of one forgetting what was on their cue-cards or the droll blurbs that had probably been rehearsed and re-rehearsed at dinner, breakfast, and tea for days on end. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this with a straight face.” Ah. Well, that was certainly something Gavin had never said during his own coronation, especially not with his mother within easy son-smacking distance.And so the new Queen began her completely impromptu speech that was far more honest and interesting than the one she'd been sent to say. “Allow me to share with you something that I’ve only realized recently.” That no matter how many servants roll their eyes at you, it's always fun to skid down polished palace floors in socks and shorts? Then again, this was a queen who owned nightclubs; she probably had the best surround sound in her palace, or would soon. Gavin couldn't help but smirk, thinking of how much fun that could be. Oh, poor, stuffy Cretan politicians and the glorious sticks that couldn't be surgically removed from their bums. This would be amazingly fun to keep tabs on.

Rachel made a bold move, underlining that she wasn't Dietrich, and that how she ran things would be vastly different. If dropping her speech mid-coronation wasn't indication enough of that, listening to the woman admit her faults was more than enough, and yet, it was refreshingly human. She wasn't royalty, and unlike the life Gavin and his cousins had known nothing but growing up and were all force-fed as their lives were picked, primed, and pushed onto them, Rachel was from the world they had been all but forbidden from until they were adults and far too busy. It was new, and interesting, and might do something to spark new breath into Creta because she genuinely was one of them unlike the crown Prince of Carraig who had been escorted to the villages and places people worked so that he could learn about the world he would be tending. And that... made Gavin smile. She had ideals for negotiations and peace and things that Gavin also liked to talk about at dinner but knew better than to think he could always find a direct method for. Making enemies in politics was unfortunately an unavoidable side effect, but usually such things were subtle and slow; pointing them out on international television was probably the fastest and most direct way. Rachel had the world's attention, and at least now Gavin could speak for everyone to say that they were no longer bored.

He remained seated, but Gavin joined everyone in their applause for the new Queen. If nothing else, she certainly had a good idea for how to get people's attention and motivate them. And then she'd even called for a party at her club, wasn't that nice... It beat champagne and things on crackers, Gavin supposed; Creta's parties were rather famous for the many inventive things they could do with sausages. He exited the pew gracefully to head into the crowd and was met by Hans and his wife, as well as General Aeries of Amestris. Gavin couldn't help but grin a little; the man certainly cleaned up nicely for a party, and at some point, the King would have to invite him back to Carraig, if nothing else to poke at Spade for details about his partying habits that left people talking and chickens missing. Gavin reached to the small aid on his belt, tapping at the keys as he looked to Hans and his wife. "Chancellor, General, good to see you both again. Hans, I'd like you to meet Rosaleen." Hans had heard about the incredible guard, but there was a certain satisfaction in getting to introduce a woman Gavin was crazy about to a man he'd looked up to since he was a prince.

A soft, almost nervous cough caught Gavin's attention, the King turning to look at the young man behind him. He was a.... who was he? He didn't look like any of the young men related to the noble families Gavin knew, and who was the little girl...? "Um...hello...sir....your highness..." Nope, definitely not noble. "Um my name is Finnick Maddock....and this is my sister Amelia. She has been wanting to meet you...you are her idol sir.... Amelia...stop being so shy...." Gavin turned his gaze to the little girl that was pulled out from behind the young man. She was young; younger than his Sorcha was, and dressed far girlier than his darling girl would ever be caught dead in. A tiny doll with large eyes and long eyelashes. Lovely little girl. Gavin tapped at his aid, looking back up to her brother.

"It's nice to meet you both," the mechanical voice droned out. His smile was warm at least, Gavin nodding his head politely to Finnick before he looked back down to Amelia. His fingers padded out on the keys quickly. "And it's very nice to meet you, Princess." Gavin reattached the aid to his belt and bowed politely to the doll-like girl, his own paternal instinct charging forward more for a moment than his political ones. He used to love playing with Sorcha, even if she wasn't into tea parties and fancy dresses; playing pretend with marshmallow blowguns was just as fun. Gavin's hand reached down, offering to take Amelia's tiny one and kiss the top of it in a gesture that was old and princely, popular in almost every story that started with "Once upon a time," while at the same time being innocent, cheesy, and unmistakably the action of a father who loved spoiling his own daughter.

Escorts came to interrupt them, reminding Gavin that they had been invited to an after-party of sorts, Brigitte moving to Rosaleen's side to escort her with the guards. Gavin frowned slightly, not fond of the idea of letting other people escort Rosaleen elsewhere, and it took a moment of him reminding himself that Rosaleen was a more than capable guard and even in heels could probably put many of Creta's royal guards to shame. He puffed out a slight breath, and stopped to lean over, kissing Rosaleen's cheek sweetly and apologetically, and once more as a silent comment that he'd make it up to her later. Aid back in his hand in the flash of an eye. "I'll catch up with you there, Rosaleen. Hopefully we won't be long." Gavin looked back to Finnick and Amelia and smiled again at them both. "It was nice meeting you both. Please excuse me." Han's large hand clapped on Gavin's shoulder, urging him away.

“Come, Your Highness. Let us go greet the Queen.”

Gavin smirked, somewhere between amused and something else that, while he said nothing, silently sighed a distinct Must we? First a pep rally and then clubbing. At least it wasn't a dull coronation, and first of its kind in Cretan history. Times were changing, and the only things that seemed to stay the same were the sausages. The crowd inside of the church really was more like that of a rally, people crammed almost elbow to elbow in places in a parade of fancy clothes and ghastly hats, people constantly wanting an introduction. Gavin trotted alongside Hans toward the foreign collective of persons about to try and do a clown car act to smoosh into the limo, when a young lady's voice caught his attention this time, particularly because she was speaking Creig.

"Excuse me, King Etheridge? May I present my brother, Shogun Izanagi Yoshida. I am Izanami Yoshida, his right hand and interpreter. He wished to speak with you." Gavin turned to see a young lady presenting a tall Aerugese man who seemed rather like he'd much prefer to be somewhere more sane himself. The Shogun of Aerugo. Everyone really was at this little shindig tonight, weren't they? But, at least they were all heading toward the limo, and wouldn't it be funny to see how many people they could cram inside. It sounded like the start to a terrible Creig pub joke; How many politicians can you fit inside a Cretan limo? Gavin was sure there was a hilarious answer for that question.

Gavin stepped to the side slightly, waiting to see who would shove in first, preferring to wait to be last or near-last to get in. There weren't usually groups when he got in cars, and the idea of everyone nearly sitting on each other didn't really appeal to him. "It's nice to meet you, Miss... Gavin frowned slightly, entirely unsure how to spell her name, or the Shogun's in a way that his aid would be able to speak them and sound marginally correct. It was quite a while before he got it to stop breaking up Rosaleen's name as it was. He typed anyways, waiting to get in. "And you as well." Couldn't find a pair of words that emulated the Aerugese words, either. Dammit. Hopefully Yoshida wouldn't be horribly offended, Gavin suddenly really missing Artemis tonight. Sure, she wouldn't be able to really remember their names either (which may have been the same as his aid not saying them), but at least Arty could translate well.

It was going to be one of those lovely nights of diplomatic hell, but with subwoofers.

He followed dumbly like some little duckling. Unable to understand so he just followed his lord. Taking the seat to his right for the speech he knew he wouldn't be able to understand for the life of him so he just tried to look interested as the woman spoke. But the tone of words he didn't know lulled him like a lullaby. Eye's grew heavy as his head nodded. Next thing he knew his head lightly thudded against the shoulder of his lord. And the strong pulse he adored added to the lullaby and soon he was sound asleep drooling on the shougan's blazer.

He was startled awake when his pillow shook violently. And the beautiful sound of the man's laughter tickled his ears. He looked up from his daze drool trail down his chin. There though was the beautiful smile and laughter. He smiled sleepily and watched him wondering what had triggered this.

As they slowly rose he continued to follow Izanagi like the loyal guard he was. He felt the man's eye's run up and down his body not once but twice. He blinked and felt slightly sub conscious. Was something wrong? Was there a dirt mark....did he look just scruffy? "That suit forms well to you." His cheeks flared almost as red as his hair. "I forgot to thank you for attending, Tsuboi-san. I know it must be a trouble trying to figure this all out." He made his famous goldfish impression before stuttering out. "It's...no problem sir..."

The man turned back to his sister before addressing him again. "Tsuboi-san, tag along. I have a few things to do, before we can mingle once more." Giving a nod he followed. "I wouldn't dream of leaving your side..."

Nyx shifted slightly uncomfortably to the side once. And then again. Aurel was speaking with Hans still, and while Tat was there, she still didn't quite like the coronation. Too many people, and too many of them were paparazzi, and they were annoying. A few of the brave souls had come back to snap a few rare shots of Aurel and Hans talking, but a glare from the teal-haired girl warned them to turn their flashes off first, lest the merry band of RIOTE members be cast out of the coronation due to some unsightly blood stains on the... Well, everything. No matter. At any rate, she was rather irritated by the large crowd anyways, regardless of the pains in her eyes from flashing cameras, and took it with a sigh of relief as Aurel and Hans wrapped up their conversation. She, with Aurel and Tatyana, took her seat in the church, sitting between Aurel and Tatyana, as Tatyana seemed to want her between them, protected, as it seemed. Nyx was glad they cared about her that much, but was too bothered by the people around her to really appreciate the gesture.

As she sat there, she listened to the speech and... Well, quite frankly, it was boring. Not to say it was a bad speech, but it just failed to keep the attention of the youngest daughter of Aurel, a position she quite liked to claim. It was kinda funny how the little family had come together, really; she had Aurel as her daddy, and the best one in the world ever, to boot, even when he was being all confusing and riddly. Then she had Tatyana as her big sister, who was Aurel's other daughter, though she still didn't quite understand where Tatyana had come from, or where she'd been. Or, for that matter, why the much-younger Tatyana she'd briefly seen around the house had seemingly aged overnight. It was odd, really. But she didn't mind. Then there was Daemon, her big brother, though he didn't really see himself as Aurel's son, nor did Aurel see him in that light, as far as Nyx knew. He was still a brother to her, though. And while Hild could never be replaced as her mother, Valeria made a very good mom to Nyx, and she loved her, as she did all of her makeshift RIOTE family.

That aside, Nyx looked up from swinging her feet boredly back and forth as Rachel pointed out Aurel's hair, and Nyx couldn't help but stifle a giggle. He really did have pretty hair~ And she got to brush it for him every now and then, which was always fun!~ As she pondered about his hair and as the speech got boring again, she reached a hand over to Aurel and leaned a bit closer to him, idly twirling his hair in her little fingers, amusing herself as time passed by like a snail on a long highway. Finally, something fun to do at the coronation!~ As the speech went on, she noticed something else to occupy her time; a long-haired man was rather rudely standing in the back, whooping and applauding different bits of the speech, and while the speech itself was laaaaaaame, she couldn't help but watch the man and grin every time he did something silly, as she twiddled with Aurel's luscious dark locks. Silky hair is silky~ That other guy's hair looked kinda fluffy, but not quite silky, like Aurel's. Actually, it looked kinda scraggly, and Nyx sorta wondered if he ever bathed. But he LOOKED like he bathed... Maybe he was bad at hair? Probably that, yeah.

Soon enough the speech ended and Nyx prepared to walk off with Aurel and Tatyana, but then, HOLYCRAPHEAPPEAREDOUTOFNOWHERE. The crazy happy guy from before FLIPPED OVER AUREL and hugged him!? What is this, Nyx didn't even... What!? Soon, he started talking, and Nyx realized... Well, she had no idea what he was saying. Her own Amestrian was awkward, considering she bore a West City dialect, but... Yikes, he failed Amestrian. In every grade. Did he even GO to school!? Not even bothering to follow along with his madness, which only Aurel seemed competent to comprehend, Nyx's attention went to Tat. Though an eagle is often praised most for its eyes, they also boasted rather excellent hearing, surprisingly; Nyx caught the tiny laughter of Tatyana's, and wondered briefly why she was laughing, but didn't really care why, so long as she was happy. A moment later, Tat gripped Nyx's hand, and Nyx wrapped her fingers around Tat's so Tat wasn't just awkwardly holding her hand, now the two were both holding hands, because yes. She didn't really bother to care why Tat suddenly chose to grasp her hand either, but she couldn't say she minded at all, as they started off to their helicopter, Nyx briefly giggling as Aurel pondered what exactly golf was, and heard Tatyana speak up.

Blinking at first, and looking just a bit like a deer in headlights, Nyx was snapped from her thoughts. "Hm?~ Oh! Ice cream and cider sound really good, Taty, mhm~" With a smile, having forgotten her whole feeling-awkward phase caused by the coronation, she hugged her big sister, and climbed into the helicopter, ready to go hooooome.

While many found the church pews uncomfortable, Rosaleen didn't mind too much. After all, she had been in much more uncomfortable situations when she had been off in mountains, forests, or who knew where else. Rocks and bumpy terrain were never the most comfortable things to sleep on. What would have made her feel some discomfort would be the amount of eyes staring at the young king and his beautiful date. Again, thank goodness she was blind. The only thing that really mattered was Gavin beside her, tilting her head slightly as she was aware of him turning his head, the opening of his jaw a little bit. Had it been a laugh? She had to guess as much as she felt him turn her hand over in his own. She waited patiently for his response but... he never traced it into her palm.

Although she didn't really mind it as she became acutely aware of a still restlessness that had settled over the whole room. How those two things had combined themselves, she wasn't really sure, but that was the exact phrase that described the room perfectly. People were restless, there was something amiss that she wasn't aware of (after all she couldn't read a watch). There was strain, and her brows furrowed as she "surveyed" the room, her head turning as if to look all about it though she couldn't see a single thing. She stopped using her alkahestry for a moment so her other senses could soak in everything else. Whispers immediately began to flood her, harsh "s's", different languages she couldn't possibly understand, shoes against the floor, the creaking of wood. Sounds upon sounds in waves as well as the latent smell that was in the air from all of the different countries. Some might wonder if it was really possibly to smell where someone was from, but it was absolutely possible for each country had its own plants, foods, dyes, and etc that were unique to them. She hadn't realized how far she had delved into her focus on their surroundings until an automated voice shattered her bubble of awareness, "Bet it's the London traffic,"

Rosaleen hadn't even felt or heard him take out his aid much less type into it. Ah well, sometimes these things happened. Her echolocation switched back "on," she chuckled a little as she turned to her love. "Or maybe a last romp of freedom." Ahh, but that told her all she needed to know, the Queen-elect was late. It was hard for her to keep track of time and so wasn't aware that was the cause of the unrest in the room. But a dramatic (yes she could tell it was dramatic) opening of doors immediately told her that Rachel had arrived. While heads turned to follow her walk up to the dias and be sworn in, Rosaleen could only vaguely do so. With all of the bodies there and where their seats were, the Queen was at the very edges of her "seeing" range. At best during her speech, she was fuzzy. Dammit all, she had been working on it. She still was working on improving it, but she still was so far lacking behind. So while she was listening intently, she still gave Gavin's hand a small squeeze. Who it was supposed to be reassuring for, she wasn't really sure.

There had been a flow to the whole ceremony, so Rosaleen was very aware of when that flow halted. It was like someone had been singing a song but then someone hit a note off-key. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this with a straight face.” Eh? While most of the room raised its eyebrows, the guard could only smile as she sat beside the man she was sworn to protect. It would appear that Carraig wasn't the only one undergoing a shift in tradition, hm? “Allow me to share with you something that I’ve only realized recently.” Do tell, young Queen Rachel. Do tell indeed. She knew that Gavin wouldn't have dared to do this when he was coronated for his family would have attempted to murder him far earlier than otherwise. She had some suspicions of Gavin's family that loathed her so, but she didn't dare say anything yet for she had no definable proof. She wouldn't say anything until she was sure for there was no sense creating more junk for them to lob at her with the disdain they already treated her with.

Ah, but these were issues for another time. After those first few words from the Queen, Rosaleen had already decided that she liked her and the words that had followed only continued to solidify this feeling. Dietrich had been an interesting and excellent ruler, but Rachel? She was something else entirely, and that was what she liked. She was also glad though, that Rachel didn't totally break tradition for that was what people were most used to. And if that was shattered in one fell swoop, who knew how the public might react? Then again, Rosaleen knew she was thinking of this more as a leader of a military troop might and not necessarily as a politician. There was a reason she had joined the military aside from wanting to help her country, and that was that she never understood the grander politics and whatnot. No matter, the new Queen had asserted herself as a different ruler from that of Dietrich and established the woman that she would be. And that, was far more important than anything else.

As cheers and applause began to fill the room, she too, joined in with the rest, though she couldn't fix her eyes on the same place as everyone else. So she stared ahead of herself, suddenly painfully aware of how she couldn't actually see such an important occasion. Then another thought hit her, now that the speeches were over and the after party had been called, that meant she had to try to once again stumble through being a proper date for Gavin. Well shit. To be honest, clubs made her nervous. There were a lot of sounds and usually a lot of people which meant it was SUPER hard for her echolocation to work (or any of her senses for that matter). If she weren't blind, then it would be no big deal, but.... well erm... The last time she had tried to go into a club after she lost her sight it had been... bad. Taking a deep breath, she rose with Gavin and carefully slipped into the crowd after him, straining her alkahestry to its limits so she didn't trip in her heels or over someones feet or over her dress or just.... You know, it shouldn't be this hard to NOT make an embarrassment of yourself.

A small group of four people came into view, none of them did she recognize in the least bit. Their uniforms appeared Amestrian from what she could see in terms of details, Gavin quickly answering for her who they were. "Chancellor, General, good to see you both again. Hans, I'd like you to meet Rosaleen." Ohhhhhh boy. Rosaleen almost saluted, but instead forced herself to curtsy first, raising her head as Hans took her hand to kiss the top of it which (damn it all!) made her cheeks grow the slightest bit rosy. Oi was she not used to being treated like a lady.... "It's a pleasure." She spoke in her strong voice, refusing to let her voice betray how lost she felt at the moment. Then she turned towards Spade and Jay and saluted them, being a date tonight be damned. She was still a proud member of Faolchú and she would still salute fellow militants even if from another country. She was sure that no one would mind.... hopefully....

“Rosaleen, yes? I'm Brigitte. You'll ride over with myself and my lovely escorts. We've got to let the boys do their thing for now.”

..... eh?

Rosaleen for a few seconds almost didn't even register what the Chancellors wife had said, she wasn't to remain with Gavin for the ride to the club? Well now she only felt more nervous. If she were here as a guard she would know exactly how to act, but as.... Oooooo she was not bred for this! "A pleasure. O-Of course." She responded quickly in rusty Amestrian, relatively certain that she hadn't butchered their language too terribly. She felt that softness on her cheek, turning her head towards Gavin, wishing she could just reach out for her lifeline to this madness. Oh snap out of it! She merely gave him a warm smile filled with a sureness of self that she managed to muster up. She could not fail her king, or her love, by falling to pieces. Her pride as a guard, and a woman, wouldn't allow it! "I'll catch up with you there, Rosaleen. Hopefully we won't be long." "I'll see you soon." To anyone else it would have appeared as if she stared right at him with those striking green eyes, but she only had the aura that she knew so well, the hazy image that she had clarified with her hands to make it known to her. So with a deep breath, she followed after Brigitte into their car, carefully navigating her skirt as she slipped inside, both interested and terrified to see how this night would progress.