AO's One-Stop Diplomacy Shop!, Members, send us your ambassadors

To the Region,

The Holy Order of Bison needs only one ambassador to relate to other nations because, frankly, the nation of Thundrmuffn cares little for unnecessary political or diplomatic interaction. When the Region requires his services, His Excellency Ambsequi Re, Holy Ambassador to Nations, will be there.

Name: Ambsequi Re
Title: His Excellency, Holy Ambassador to Nations
Home: Holy State of Orlynnk, Allied States of Thundrmuffn
Age: Unknown, 34 years since thaw
Race: Some type of green-skinned elfish looking, 3.8m tall, only one of his kind known to man. Oddly, can understand and speak every human language he has encountered so far.
History: His Excellency Re was found frozen solid during an Orlynnk ice-dig for uranium. Scientists took 9 years to slowly and carefully thaw the block his body was frozen in, hoping to reanimate him. To their surprise, their resuscitation equipment was unneeded. As soon as the ice was completely removed from his body, Ambsequi opened his eyes and thanked the men for saving him. He refuses to tell the rest of his story to this day. As a gesture of thanks to the people of Orlynnk for not torturing his story out of him, he decided to use his inexplicably vast knowledge of people groups and languages to help them establish contact with the outside world. This began a long chain of diplomatic successes for Re and he soon became the agent of first contact with the Irtk and Reyarpi peoples. In an unprecedented decision, the Holy Order of Bison selected him to join their council. He was the first non-human and non-Antarctican to be chosen for the Order. Eventually, His Excellency helped to draft the treaties that led to the formation of the Allied States of Thundrmuffn. Upon the founding of the AST, the Holy Order appointed Re to his current post. Some on the council believe he may actually have been sent to the Orlynnk by their god, the holy Bluehorn Thunder Bison, to promote world peace. The majority of the council believes, however, that this green-skinned freak would be a great asset in interpreting codes and communiques in foreign tongues during times of war.

Prince Hithum the 52nd of Zanjan and Tiflis moaned loadly, his seat in his private jet seemed smaller than ever despite having had it widened several times. His bowels ached and his wig itched and his thighs sweated. The aircon was desicating all the mucous membranes of his body.

" Mr. Andashi, why do i suffer like this? have i not been a a loyal and enthusiastic supporter of those in power? "

Mr. Andashi the princes assistant sighed and roled his eyes theatrically, " The wages of sin is irritable bowel syndrome sir. The Antarctic Oasis has offerd us a basement as an exclave sir will that suit us? "

The prince shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, " It wont suit me very well Mr. Andashi i hate enclosed spaces, they remind me of that monster of a mother of mine, may she burn in hell. I spent 9 months inside that gorgon and it's scarred me for life. After she had tried to have me assasinated for the third time i had her packed off to the convent of the Virgin on the mountain top, its an insane asylum these days what with there being no christians around anymore, but before she left i threw her a party with every possible luxury and diversion. Just to remind her of everything she could never have again. "

"that's charming sir. So will you be sending someone to represent us in the Antarctic Oasis? "

" No we will have to do so in person, as per our orders. That's Nogai's fault, that self satisfied prick! We will have to commute from Tabriz a couple of times a week! it's the party season and i can't be missed it would cause a scandal. "

The prince's eyes bulged as he wiped his sweating brow with a perfectly manicured hand.

" Send some guys down into this basement see if we can't 'palace of pleasures' it up a bit, some olympic sized hot tubs and a round the clock pharmacist on site should help cosy the place. "

" Yes sir, will we have the Ladies of the Moscow Review installed too? "

" Excellent idea Mr. Andashi! Now do you think you could get a bit nifty with that enema, i'm touching cloth here "

Mr. Andashi began to wonder if he'd commited some unspeakable insult to Karma......

The New Leicestershirian Ambassador to Peru showed up at Lima Police Headquarters at 6 AM sharp and dutifully bailed Billy Hunt out of gaol. Again.

Billy was dressed (as he usually was on these occasions) in ripped-up dress slacks, his dress shirt from two days before, a trenchcoat, and vomit. He was loaded into a car, driven back to the Embassy, cleaned up, fed, and placed on a flight back to New Leicestershire for reassignment.

There was a time, only a few short years ago, when William J. "Billy" Hunt was considered one of the rising stars of the Foreign Office. Then came his discovery of gin, crack cocaine, heroin and prostitutes and his career began to take a more downward trajectory.

Arriving in Battersea, the New Leicestershirian capitol, he is taken by car to the Office of the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs where Secretary Terrance Marmesbury-Singh and WA Ambassador David Watts will decide his next assignment.

Billy Hunt enters the office and trips over the rug, falling face-first into a large potted Sago Palm. He is knocked unconscious.

Marmesbury-Singh: "Good lord! Is he drunk again? How can that be?"

Watts: "Well I'd say, although I can't be certain, that he managed to acquire liquor on the flight from Peru. Of course it's possible that this is his normal...state."

Marmesbury-Singh: "Heavens! Didn't he work for you in the NSUN?"

Watts: "Yes. Yes he did. Seemed a bright lad at first. Came highly recommended. His father is an admiral, you know? Sir Basil Burberry Le Beaux Hunt."

Marmesbury-Singh: "I'm aware of his background. Good family, high marks in school...he graduated from Oxford, didn't he? But look at him! He's drunk as a monkey on a rock and knocked himself unconscious on my palm tree. Or is he dead? And what is that hanging out of his pocket?"

David Watts walks over and extracts something from Billy Hunt's jacket pocket.

Watts: "It is a pair of women's undergarmets. Worn recently, it would seem."

Marmesbury-Singh: "*sigh* "See if you can wake him."

David Watts tries unsuccessfully to wake Billy.

Watts: "No, I'm afraid he's quite thoroughly out. I felt a pulse though. He is alive."

Marmesbury-Singh: "Well that's unfortunate. What shall we do with him?"

Watts: "Do?"

Marmesbury-Singh: "Yes, what shall we do with him? Shall we sack him, or send him to another post to wreak his havoc on yet another diplomatic staff?"

Watts: "Terrance, you're not giving him back to me. I won't stand for it. My WA mission is fully staffed and I'm happy with my people. We don't have an opening for a drug-addicted, womanizing lout."

Marmesbury-Singh: "Well I can't just sack him. It wouldn't be as simple as that, he's too well-connected. We could send him somewhere in Africa, Rhodesia perhaps?"

Watts: "Send him to Antarctic Oasis."

Marmesbury-Singh: "What!? The region we just joined? Why, they'd expell us."

Watts: "No, actually they won't. The Antarcticans are used to outlandish behaviour. They'll probably give him a TV show or somesuch. He'd do fine there. And consider this, half the Government doesn't want us involved with the Antarcticans anyway. The Tories in Parliament don't even believe NationStates exists. So not only will we not have any hard feelings from AO, our own Government won't be troubled over the appointment either. You may as well say you've assigned him to the Moon."

Marmesbury-Singh: "Hmmm. But what if he creates some sort of incident that could damage our relations there?"

Watts: "I'll handle it, Terrance. All serious diplomacy with the Antarcticans will be conducted through my office. It's already been arranged. Trust me, it will work. Just give him a staff, some minor diplomatic duties. He isn't an idiot after all, just a hopeless wreck of a human life."

"It will be a way to keep him contained, and besides, he'll be popular there. The Kennyite media in particular will find him entertaining."

Marmesbury-Singh: "And you'll take responsibility for his acts?"

Watts: "Erm, no. If he gets out of hand I'll have him killed."

Marmesbury-Singh: "Right! Well, that sounds like an extraordinary plan. I'm glad we could work through this business and save the young man's job."

"Get him out of my office now, please."

(OOC: I've moved one of my puppet nations into AO, for whatever that's worth. I'm going to have just one forum account, though, so posts will be coming from both nations.)

Her Royal Sparkleness Robin Sparkles is seated in her jewel-encrusted throne carefully evaluating a sampling of gem stones recently pulled from the nation's mines. The best stones are always given as a tribute from the mining families to Her Royal Sparkleness for inclusion in her many jeweled ensembles.

"Your Royal Sparkleness," her assistant (whose name she doesn't bother to remember) interrupts timidly, "We've received a message from the leader of the Doctoral Monkey Feet of Mousebumples."

"So? They kicked me out of their region. Why should I care what they want?" Her Royal Sparkleness responds, not looking up from the bevy of gemstones before her.

"Your Royal Sparkleness, they did not kick us out. They requested that we go on a diplomatic mission on behalf of the region - to which you agreed after they agreed to offer an annual payment in gemstones."

"These gemstones from our mines are much better than those poor quality stones they sent in payment."

"They don't have our experience or expertise, Your Royal Sparkleness."

"True enough," she responds with a smile, confident that no nation can match the production or quality of Robin Sparkles's gemstones. "What do they want?"

"The Hall sisters are requesting that you appoint a diplomat to serve at the Antarctic Oasis headquarters."

Her Royal Sparkleness pauses for a brief moment to consider her options. "Very well. I appoint you."

"M-m-me? But, Your Royal Sparkleness, I really don't think that I-I'm qualified for this sort of position."

"Do you or do you not worship at the altar of the Illuminating Sparkles, which represent our glorious nation's past leaders?"

"I do," he responds tentatively.

"Have you or have you not sworn to obey without question orders given by me as their representative priestess?"

"I have," he responds warily.

"Then why the hell are you still standing here, looking at me, when I've clearly stated that you are to be our nation's ambassador?"

"I-I-I'm sorry, Your Royal Sparkleness. I'll be on my way, right away," he stuttered, bowing in apology before fleeing from the throne room.

"And make sure you send me a new assistant!" Her Royal Sparkleness calls after him, just before the doors slam shut. "Preferably one who won't be quite so obsequious."

---

AO Representative -
Name: Radcliffe Diamond
Sex: Hopefully, maybe, someday, if he can ever get up the nerve to talk to a girl
Age: 24
Born: In his family's diamond mine
Former jobs: While he mined as a young child, he showed intelligence that was uncommon in the nation of Robin Sparkles and attended university, where he majored in gemology. He generally prefers spending time with gemstones to people as he's very shy.

Edwardian House, Grand Ducal Palaces, Cocktown, Alqanian Antarctica

"A bit more to the left, no, not that far to the left, go back a bit..." Eddie, or Grand Duke Edward I as he was formally known these days after being made the titular ruler of Alqanian Antarctica, had stopped looking at the painting some time ago and was instead focusing on the rear assets of his Private Secretary who was hanging it up. The Grand Duke took a sip of his whisky before adding: "I think we're almost there now."

"What is this?!" The exclamation came from the Professor of Art History at the University of Alqanian Antarctica, who for some odd reason had walked in through the door to Eddie's office.

Who left the door open? thought Eddie to himself before addressing the Professor. "You're asking what this is? You, a Professor of Art History? What kind of barbarian would not recognise a portrait of William VIII?"

"I did not mean 'whose portrait is this?'", the Professor replied. "I mean why is a piece of art being hanged without the Art Council having been consulted?"

"The Art Council?", Eddie asked, whisky glass on the way to his mouth and his eyes on the way back to the backside of his Private Secretary. "And don't you mean 'why is a piece of art being hung without the Art Council having been consulted?'?"

"Yes, according to Your Grand Ducal Highness' most excellent policy on palace art, the Art Council needs to be consulted in all procurement of art." It seemed the Professor was not interested in discussing grammar.

Eddie contemplated while sipping his whisky whether he should disband the Art Council and charge the Professor with treason. But then he remembered that the Art Council was planning some party or festival or something next month and it would be a shame if such a thing had to be cancelled. "I sincerely hope you are taking this ad notam, Alan", he said instead, attempting to shift the focus away from his own involvement in procuring the portrait. "We would certainly not wish such negligence of internal policy be repeated, I mean why do we even have an Art Council if we don't consult them?"

"Of course, Your Grand Ducal Highness", the Private Secretary replied, still in the midst of hanging the portrait up.

"Oh and I think it will hang just perfect there", Eddie decided, not much in the mood for the eye candy now the Professor had come and interrupted him. "Did you have any actual business here, Professor?"

"My business was to on behalf of the Art Council investigate the rumour that reached me of a painting being procured without due procedure. Now that that business is concluded, I shall beg Your Grand Ducal Highness a most excellent day."

Damn academics, Eddie thought to himself as the Professor gave a bow and left the office. He really had better things to think about than consulting a bunch of besserwissers when getting a portrait for his office. Like his upcoming 20th birthday - sure, there was an Art Council, but there had not been established any organising committee for the Grand Duke's birthday celebrations, a truly worrying state of affairs for the developing administration. The birthday should be celebrated all throughout the capital Cocktown and beyond.

The name Cocktown was apt in several ways; it was a reference to the Grand Duke's surname, Cox, but it was also suitable because of the cockfights that were regularly held in the city. Since neither Alqanian laws against animal cruelty nor any international resolutions or conventions on the topic were applicable in the Dominion, Alqanians interested in breeding cocks, or male birds as foreigners might call them, and other animals to fight were flocking to Antarctica. Whether it was a business tycoon or a university student that wanted to earn some extra cash, it had quickly become a popular form of entertainment. The cockerel, or rooster, was still the classic fighter, but the practice had been extended to many animals - the latest fad was swans fighting each other. The Grand Duke had decreed however that it was mandatory for any fighting penguin to leave a sample that could be used to clone it, as penguins were too valuable to allow the risk of them decreasing in number.

Thirdly, the name was apt because the vast majority of the city's inhabitants were homosexual men, much to the dismay of integration policy back in the Alqanian homeland. A both homosexual and homosocial culture had emerged with the first settlers and as everyone was gay and male in the beginning, almost all of the people who were attracted to living in the city were also gay and male. This did not mean however that the entire Dominion was populated solely by gay men; other parts of Alqanian Antarctica had a more sexually diverse demographic.

"Your Grand Ducal Highness, we should get ready for Her Royal Highness' arrival." The Private Secretary brought Eddie back to the present.

----------------

White Panther International Airport

The door to the Royal jet opened and Princess Caroline stepped out and gave a small wave to the assembled crowd before descending the flight of stairs onto the red carpet.

"Welcome to Antarctica, Your Royal Highness", Eddie said as he bowed to the Princess. After somehow having returned alive from the fascist-communist paramilitary coup/terrorist attacks at the presidential inauguration in Goldsaver, Caroline had been appointed Vicereine and Governor General of Alqanian Antarctica.

"Thank you, Your Grand Ducal Highness." The Princess and the Grand Duke made their way down the red carpet while photographers took pictures of the arrival of the Vicereine and Governor General of the autonomous overseas Crown possession.

Back at the Grand Ducal Palaces, the representative of the central Government and the autonomous ruler went through whatever topics they felt needed going through. Eventually, the time came to the request from Antarctic Oasis to send an Ambassador.

"As Your Royal Highness can see, this is a bit of a tricky thing", Eddie said. In his mind, what was tricky was not choosing the Ambassador, but getting Caroline and the Queen to agree on his choice. Foreign, defence and security policy was dictated by Her Majesty's Government, through Caroline, and Eddie felt like his autonomy was not strong enough, like he did not have enough authority to properly rule the Dominion. But if he were also the Ambassador to Antarctic Oasis, that would change, then he would get a bigger say and a larger portion of the power. The Queen was the one appointing Ambassadors, but the Ambassador to Antarctic Oasis could only be appointed upon the exclusive nomination made by the Grand Duke. There was not really any Ambassador material in Alqanian Antarctica, so Eddie would be compelled to sacrifice some of his own time and devotion to doubling as an Ambassador. It would have to be done this way.

"Indeed it is", Caroline replied and took a sip of her Irish coffee. "In fact, if Your Grand Ducal Highness would excuse me for a moment, I would like to call Her Majesty." Not waiting for a reply, Caroline used her mobile phone to make a call.

"Yes, the special status of the Dominion does complicate this", Caroline said contemplatively after she had explained to her mother why she was calling. "Mhm, yes... no, I don't think so. Yes... I see... Yes, I shall ask His Grand Ducal Highness right away." Caroline moved the phone down from her ear and turned back to Eddie. "Her Majesty has suggested that I make myself a candidate for the position of Ambassador. Shall I tell Her Majesty that Your Grand Ducal Highness nominates me?"

No, this was not how it was supposed to go! Eddie should be increasing his power by becoming Ambassador, but now Caroline was about to do exactly that. "Your Royal Highness? Of course... that sounds like a... most excellent idea", Eddie said, trying to buy time while he was thinking. Could he somehow get out of having to nominate the Princess? No, not nominating her now would be a personal insult not only against her but against the Queen, it might even be treason. So much for autonomy. He would have to go along with this. "Yes of course, please do tell her that I am honoured, pleased, ecstatic to have such a fine candidate to nominate for the position." What could he do now? This was not only a loss of potential power, it was a hit to his prestige. The Grand Duchy would not be taken seriously by anyone, he would have to do something. His hand was forced into nominating the Princess for Ambassador, but... perhaps... perhaps he could get something in return for doing so. Not too overtly of course, but sort of unrelated, coincidental... "An order!"

"An order?" Caroline repeated in a tone of disbelief, probably wondering whether the Grand Duke was about to issue an order to her or even worse ask her to relay an order to the Queen.

"A dynastic order! I mean, while Your Royal Highness is anyway on the phone with Her Majesty, perhaps we could settle another, unrelated matter. I would like to most humbly request Her Majesty's permission to create a dynastic order for my House."

Caroline relayed the information, both regarding her nomination and the request for a dynastic order, to the Queen. "What would this order be called?"

A name? Oh, he had not thought of that. Hmm, best think quick now, so it does not look like he just thought of this. "Well, it is of course modelled after the Highest Order, so this would then be the High Order. And since the order of the Royal House of Panthera is of the Panther, then the order of the Grand Ducal House of Cox would of course be the Order of the... Cock."

"The High Order of the Cock", Caroline repeated, once again in a tone of disbelief, but this time not only to the Grand Duke but also, more importantly, to the Queen over the phone.

"Of course, the initial members would be prominent members of the Cox family, like... er, like... His Excellency the Ambassador to the Emirate of Tarmeca, of course, yes, and... The Honourable Consul General on Sapphire, oh and the Student Chancellor of course."

"Mhm, yes, yes, understood... You too. Bye." Caroline hung up and turned back to Eddie. "On Your Grand Ducal Highness' nomination, Her Majesty has appointed me Ambassador to Antarctic Oasis. And the request for permission to set up a dynastic order has been granted."


----------------

Her Majesty's Ambassador to Antarctic Oasis
Name (first names and surname): Caroline Alexia Victoria Isabelle Panthera
Name (full style): Her Royal Highness Princess Caroline of Alqania, Vicereine and Governor General of Alqanian Antarctica, Duchess of Oxliey, Countess of Alborg, Dame Commander of the Highest Order of the Panther, Her Majesty's Ambassador to Antarctic Oasis
NB: The Ambassador is referred to by first name only (Caroline) or by her highest title and first name (Princess Caroline). Her surname is not used; she is never Caroline Panthera, Ms Panthera or any such thing.
Sex, Gender, Sexual Orientation: Female bi-/pansexual woman
Age: 26
Education: BA in Political Science, military training in the Royal Army
Employment History: Office of the Grand Marshal of Her Majesty's Armed Forces, Office of the Marshal of the Realm, personal representative of the Queen, Duchess, Countess, recently appointed Vicereine and Governor General, Ambassador
Favourite drink: Vodka
See nswiki for more info!

It was almost like a scene out of The West Wing, with two Frowning Street officials negotiating the narrow corridors of Executive Plaza at an almost unnecessarily quick pace, as though trying to appear too busy to stop to talk to anyone, or perhaps to satisfy their superiors that they were "on top of things." Though it was kind of hard to get more "superior" than the vice president and the secretary of state.

"So you've gone through the file on Alqania?" Sammy asked as the two turned a corner, sending a young intern sprawling out of their way.

"I just don't understand these people, Sammy," replied Riley. "It's like the whole country has Tourette's and can't stop yelling 'COCK!! COCK!!!'"

Sammy's mouth twisted in a sly smile. "Are you nervous because it secretly turns you on?" he asked mischievously.

"Oh shut up," Riley spat.

A female communications staffer practically flattened herself against the wall in the men's wake. "It's just too bad we couldn't use Tehrani's talents to deal with them, because of...well, what was the reason for sending him all the way to Allech-Atreus?" Sammy wondered.

"Because he was radioactive, and the further away we could send him, the better."

"Is that so?" Sammy asked dryly. "How many cats did he abduct because he was convinced they would trigger the Apocalypse?"

"I guess you're right about Tehrani in this case," Riley conceded, as though he hadn't heard what Sammy just said. "Fully half of Krioval has seen him, er, in action on film; he's practically a legend in The Palentine's gay community. These Alqanian guys should have warmed right up to him."

A gaggle of staffers collapsed in a heap as the two of them stormed by. "Well, if we can't give them Tehrani, we'll give them the next best thing!" Sammy declared. "Send them a bunch of Tehrani's old tapes; that ought to grease the diplomatic wheels."

"You mean, 'lube the diplomatic instrument'?"

"Dude, shut up."

"But all of Alex's videos are out of print! Oddly enough the government bought up all the remaining copies when he was in charge at State."

"And those are the videos we will send the Alqanians, genius!" Sammy glared at him. "I mean, you have access to Tehrani's old vault in the State Department, right?"

"I'm not going down there!" Riley shuddered. "Are you insane?!"

They came upon President Fernanda's office, and, perhaps without thinking, Sammy opened the door without knocking.

They found Fernanda traipsing about the office in a fine silken robe, lighting a few candles. The lights had been dimmed and soft romantic music was emanating from the speakers.

"Mr. President, what are you doing?" Sammy demanded, not really wanting to know the answer.

"I'm about to receive the Alqanian ambassador; what the fuck are you guys doing here?!"