18 Josepinia Way, the Westernesse States of Ambrosia Department of State
Saint Theosburg, Ambrosia
Built in the 1970s, as most WSA government buildings, the Department of State Center wreaked of a war between must and aggressive cleaning products that burned one's nostrils and yellowing eyes. Their plan, the DoS, had been to put pressure on the Socialist People's Republic of Serenierre and effect change in a black hole of market capable of so much more. Serenierre is not just a riddle, it is an enigma, something supernatural in its ability to stifle direct or clandestine infiltration.
In a few hours a timetable based series of sanctions legislation would go in effect, targeting the mining, fishing and agriculture industries of Serenierre. Ambrosia but was one tooth, and if none other bit it was all for nothing. Actually the tooth would break off, rot, and certainly embarrass Ambrosia for nipping an elusive target. An elderly man, Secretary of State Dean Doyle valued his precious teeth: biting into that angry thick meat from Gallo-Germania was like to continue the last week's headaches he smothered with aspirin and gin.
"Mister Doyle," Autumn Carroway chirped from behind a crimson lipsticked smile, "to get to Justosia you must travel back through time. Would you have it up or down?" she inquired with a bottle of sleeping pills in one hand, and a glass of spiked coffee in the other.
"Knock me down, Mrs. Carroway." Secretary Doyle ordered, grabbing from her hands both the pills and coffee. Dean downed three pills and took merely a sip of the brew, knowing he had about an hour to ride and shuffle to a plane ride of some eight or more hours to Avalon.
Justosia had developed an impossible reputation, there was no way around that, and Dean planned to confront that the moment he awoke and touched down in the far flung Implarian nation.
@Justosia
Saint Theosburg, Ambrosia
Built in the 1970s, as most WSA government buildings, the Department of State Center wreaked of a war between must and aggressive cleaning products that burned one's nostrils and yellowing eyes. Their plan, the DoS, had been to put pressure on the Socialist People's Republic of Serenierre and effect change in a black hole of market capable of so much more. Serenierre is not just a riddle, it is an enigma, something supernatural in its ability to stifle direct or clandestine infiltration.
In a few hours a timetable based series of sanctions legislation would go in effect, targeting the mining, fishing and agriculture industries of Serenierre. Ambrosia but was one tooth, and if none other bit it was all for nothing. Actually the tooth would break off, rot, and certainly embarrass Ambrosia for nipping an elusive target. An elderly man, Secretary of State Dean Doyle valued his precious teeth: biting into that angry thick meat from Gallo-Germania was like to continue the last week's headaches he smothered with aspirin and gin.
"Mister Doyle," Autumn Carroway chirped from behind a crimson lipsticked smile, "to get to Justosia you must travel back through time. Would you have it up or down?" she inquired with a bottle of sleeping pills in one hand, and a glass of spiked coffee in the other.
"Knock me down, Mrs. Carroway." Secretary Doyle ordered, grabbing from her hands both the pills and coffee. Dean downed three pills and took merely a sip of the brew, knowing he had about an hour to ride and shuffle to a plane ride of some eight or more hours to Avalon.
Justosia had developed an impossible reputation, there was no way around that, and Dean planned to confront that the moment he awoke and touched down in the far flung Implarian nation.
@Justosia