The Red Archipelago

[Pelasgia]

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Η ΙΣΧΥΣ ΕΝ ΤΗΙ ΕΝΩΣΕΙ
This post is being made as Caria.​

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OOC: After a bit of consideration, I've decided to keep my Carian and Pelasgian RP separate.​

 

[Pelasgia]

Nauplia, Naupliotica, Caria

A sunny day broke in Nauplia, one of the first of the summer, and, ordinarily, most of the capital's residents would have taken advantage of the long weekend afforded to them by the Feast of the Holy Spirit to head to the countryside for a quick swim. Triaina, that small islet just across from the city which was accessible by ferry was a favourite destination, as was the resort town of Ankystri, just outside the capital and joined to it by the same modern highway that led to Nauplia International Airport "Georgios Iordanides"—the new airport, that is, named after the Republic's founding President, which had only been built in 2001 to replace the old, named after Prince Loukas Notaras.

On this fine day, however, the streets leading from the airport to the city—and, indeed, the streets within the city leading to its Acropolis and the government quarter, seemed more busy than the beaches. Braving the oppressive heat of the Carian midday sun, Nauplians young and old lined the streets welcome their city's guest: El Presidente of @San Jose . As the motorcade carrying José David Constanza to the Carian capital approach cries of adoration could be heard all over town—while little blue-and-white striped flags and blue-red-yellow tricolours waved in the hands of the excited onlookers.

"You see, Comrade Constanza," said President Leon Grammatikos, who was sitting beside his esteemed guest in the pristine limousine at the centre of the motorcade. "You are a celebrity in Caria. I have it on good authority that many working-class Carians take your speeches against the Global Exploitation Conspiracy quite to heart. Down here in southern Caria, anyway." Leon Grammatikos could not hide his dislike of conservative northern Caria, much as he tried—though, by all accounts he was neither a typical Nauplian politician, nor a particular devoted socialist. His tenure leading the Carian United Socialist Workers' Party (KESEK) had essentially been the perfection of its gradual economic liberalisation and turn to a more pragmatic foreign policy. Many more devoted socialists scoffed at the so-called Grammatikaioi as his faction were called; but Carian voters seemed to appreciate the improving economic conditions that allowed them to maintain the social gains they had made thanks to the new, social democratic Republic, which had only been founded some thirty-eight years prior.

"At any rate," Grammatikos added. "This is a beautiful sight, but it has nothing on the view you'll have from the Acropolis." As the car turned, its occupants looked out into a view of the Cape of Nauplia, right where the city's rocky foundation met the sea under a beconing Meridian sun. At the very top of the city stood out the Acropolis that Grammatikos had referred to—the Citadel of Nauplia (for that is what "Acropolis" means in Pelasgo-Carian). Every major city in the Carian speaking world has its own, including the most famous of them all: the Acropolis of Thoricus in southern Caria, with its celebrated Parthenon. Though Thoricus' was certainly the fairest of all citadels, Nauplia's was the only one that retained its original purpose. In antiquity and medieval times, these citadels had housed the major temples and important buildings of their cities; while many cities had gradually moved their administrations out of said hilltops and into more fertile plains below, where their population centres had shifted, Nauplia's rather expansive citadel still hosted both the Οld Cathedral of Saint Andrew and the old royal (now Presidential) Palace and Chancellery*.
*In Pelasgo-Carian political parlance, a Chancellery (Sakellareia) is a government bureau that functions as mix of a secretariat, revenue agency, treasury and financial authority.

But this was where Grammatikos' side as a non-traditional politician also came out. Whereas Carian politicians tended to be, for lack of a better term, boring, Leon Grammatikos was a bit of a party animal. Sure, he had the mandatory bald head, glasses and average-looking wife with the mandatory three children (setting an example to help prop up the pension system), as well as the suits and ties in dull colours that would even put a banker to sleep—but he also had a certain penchant for enjoying the fine gifts running a country sitting right next to the world's main maritime trade route could provide. He liked doing so outside the public light, for Carians, like most Meridians, enjoyed violating norms but remaining outwardly proper. At any rate, in the figure of El Presidente he had found a kindred soul.

His personal notes of the day's plans read as follows:
Day 1
Welcome Ceremony
Discussions regarding refugee redistribution
Economic talks
Evening reception at Acropolis

Upon remembering that last line, Grammatikos smiled. "Orgy" would have been a more appropriate term, he thought and then turned to his counterpart's fellow traveller, the stunning María Alejandra Alvarado of Corrientes. "Say, Ms. Alvarado, have you had a chance to try Metaxa brandy?" he said. "My wife was too indisposed to join us, but she wishes to offer you a bottle of the finest quality—twelve stars—as an apology for her absence and a token of her admiration. I assure you that your likeness adorns many magazines in this country."​

 

[Josepania]

Nauplia, Naupliotica, Caria

A sunny day broke in Nauplia, one of the first of the summer, and, ordinarily, most of the capital's residents would have taken advantage of the long weekend afforded to them by the Feast of the Holy Spirit to head to the countryside for a quick swim. Triaina, that small islet just across from the city which was accessible by ferry was a favourite destination, as was the resort town of Ankystri, just outside the capital and joined to it by the same modern highway that led to Nauplia International Airport "Georgios Iordanides"—the new airport, that is, named after the Republic's founding President, which had only been built in 2001 to replace the old, named after Prince Loukas Notaras.

On this fine day, however, the streets leading from the airport to the city—and, indeed, the streets within the city leading to its Acropolis and the government quarter, seemed more busy than the beaches. Braving the oppressive heat of the Carian midday sun, Nauplians young and old lined the streets welcome their city's guest: El Presidente of @San Jose . As the motorcade carrying José David Constanza to the Carian capital approach cries of adoration could be heard all over town—while little blue-and-white striped flags and blue-red-yellow tricolours waved in the hands of the excited onlookers.

"You see, Comrade Constanza," said President Leon Grammatikos, who was sitting beside his esteemed guest in the pristine limousine at the centre of the motorcade. "You are a celebrity in Caria. I have it on good authority that many working-class Carians take your speeches against the Global Exploitation Conspiracy quite to heart. Down here in southern Caria, anyway." Leon Grammatikos could not hide his dislike of conservative northern Caria, much as he tried—though, by all accounts he was neither a typical Nauplian politician, nor a particular devoted socialist. His tenure leading the Carian United Socialist Workers' Party (KESEK) had essentially been the perfection of its gradual economic liberalisation and turn to a more pragmatic foreign policy. Many more devoted socialists scoffed at the so-called Grammatikaioi as his faction were called; but Carian voters seemed to appreciate the improving economic conditions that allowed them to maintain the social gains they had made thanks to the new, social democratic Republic, which had only been founded some thirty-eight years prior.

"At any rate," Grammatikos added. "This is a beautiful sight, but it has nothing on the view you'll have from the Acropolis." As the car turned, its occupants looked out into a view of the Cape of Nauplia, right where the city's rocky foundation met the sea under a beconing Meridian sun. At the very top of the city stood out the Acropolis that Grammatikos had referred to—the Citadel of Nauplia (for that is what "Acropolis" means in Pelasgo-Carian). Every major city in the Carian speaking world has its own, including the most famous of them all: the Acropolis of Thoricus in southern Caria, with its celebrated Parthenon. Though Thoricus' was certainly the fairest of all citadels, Nauplia's was the only one that retained its original purpose. In antiquity and medieval times, these citadels had housed the major temples and important buildings of their cities; while many cities had gradually moved their administrations out of said hilltops and into more fertile plains below, where their population centres had shifted, Nauplia's rather expansive citadel still hosted both the Οld Cathedral of Saint Andrew and the old royal (now Presidential) Palace and Chancellery*.
*In Pelasgo-Carian political parlance, a Chancellery (Sakellareia) is a government bureau that functions as mix of a secretariat, revenue agency, treasury and financial authority.

But this was where Grammatikos' side as a non-traditional politician also came out. Whereas Carian politicians tended to be, for lack of a better term, boring, Leon Grammatikos was a bit of a party animal. Sure, he had the mandatory bald head, glasses and average-looking wife with the mandatory three children (setting an example to help prop up the pension system), as well as the suits and ties in dull colours that would even put a banker to sleep—but he also had a certain penchant for enjoying the fine gifts running a country sitting right next to the world's main maritime trade route could provide. He liked doing so outside the public light, for Carians, like most Meridians, enjoyed violating norms but remaining outwardly proper. At any rate, in the figure of El Presidente he had found a kindred soul.

His personal notes of the day's plans read as follows:
Day 1
Welcome Ceremony
Discussions regarding refugee redistribution
Economic talks
Evening reception at Acropolis

Upon remembering that last line, Grammatikos smiled. "Orgy" would have been a more appropriate term, he thought and then turned to his counterpart's fellow traveller, the stunning María Alejandra Alvarado of Corrientes. "Say, Ms. Alvarado, have you had a chance to try Metaxa brandy?" he said. "My wife was too indisposed to join us, but she wishes to offer you a bottle of the finest quality—twelve stars—as an apology for her absence and a token of her admiration. I assure you that your likeness adorns many magazines in this country."​

Nauplia, Naupliotica, Caria

El Presidente was impeccably dressed as always in his stark white linen business suit, complete with a matching white fedora. The tricolor presidential sash provided one of the few pops of color with its blue, red and gold bands, along with the Presidential Medal of Freedom around the Josefino statesman's neck, itself including a matching tricolor ribbon holding a silver twelve-rayed representation of a sun that was almost as dazzling as the Carian sun in the real world. His smile matched the dazzling outfit as he waved to the cheering crowds, taking in the genuine love they had for him and enjoying every single moment of it.

"I am glad to hear it, Compañero Grammatikos, though I hope that I am an inspiration to leaders such as yourself as well as the followers who are here today. La Conspiración de Explotación Global must be opposed by more than one man, and though I do speak loudly and often, perhaps too loudly and too often, I am only one man. Everyone needs to be talking about the conspiracy, bringing it into the light of day and exposing it for what it is. Only through it withering in the light of truth and subsequently disintegrating in the fire of the people's wrath, will we make progress and be victorious."

As he waxed poetic, his gaze drifted away from the people and to the Acropolis, as Grammatikos intended, and nodded in approval. "But I must admit, it's going to be hard to be political if the view can only get better from here. Thus far it has been most breathtaking." At that, though, his gaze finally settled back onto his companion, María Alejandra Alvarado of @Corrientes, and his smile became even warmer, "Though it has yet to surpass your beauty, mi querido."

It was most peculiar, at least for those who knew El Presidente, how he was looking at María. It was, on the surface, nothing particularly new. He was clearly captivated by her stunning beauty, but it wasn't as though she was the only beauty he had ever encountered, and Comrade Grammatikos clearly knew this, pretty much anybody who was anybody knew this. But there was an added subtlety to his glances, a layer of admiration that went further than just appreciation of the physical attraction he had felt ever since landing in Callao and meeting her for the first time. It seemed as though there was a genuine appreciate for her personality and her intelligence as well, and it was subtle enough that President Constanza didn't even notice it himself... at least not yet.