04-21-2020, 09:35 PM
Kerlian Embassy, Tlālacuetztla, Xiomera
The Kerlian Ambassador to Xiomera, Roxana Baumer was very relieved when the order came to pack her bags and return home. She’d been hoping for such a message ever since the execution of Cetlalhui, which had made her vomit once she returned to the embassy. The two former Restricted Region employees who’d accompanied her had unnerved her too, of course, leading to her daydreaming about an assignment in some nice, torture-free democracy where these things never happened.
When the coup had happened, she’d had eerie flashbacks to the Lauchenoirian war, and shuddered to remember how badly that had gone for the Matriarchy. Whatever came to pass, Roxana wanted to be far, far away by the time it did. The order from the Council was welcome, though it concerned her slightly: Xiomera was the Matriarchy’s only real ally, and if they weren’t recognising the junta it meant that the Council didn’t believe the junta would remain in power. She worried how they would try and ensure that.
Bags packed, she quickly headed with the other embassy staff to the cars waiting outside, ready to get on a plane back to the Matriarchy. She wondered if she would ever return to Xiomera. She had liked it, in many ways – at least, before that execution. The climate suited her, the food was better than back home, and it wasn’t nearly as patriarchal as the country she’d been assigned to before this. The language was difficult, but now she’d learned it, she wondered where else she’d ever have the chance to use it.
The Council was waiting until she was out of the country before they informed the junta officially that they would be recognising the government-in-exile over them, though it occurred to Roxana that they probably knew the moment the cars drove up to the embassy. It seemed unlikely that she wasn’t being watched. She hoped nothing bad would occur, she didn’t think they’d harm her, but the memories of the execution danced in her mind and it worried her to know what the Xiomerans were capable of.
At the airport, she paced nervously back and forth waiting for the flight, trying to shove down the unpleasant memories that kept surfacing by wondering what she’d do back home. Kerlile had reformed greatly, she kept hearing. Once, she would have been sceptical of such a thing, even going so far as to oppose the attempt. But in the last six months she had become far less supportive of the more extreme policies of the Kerlian Council, and was fully ready to embrace reform.
When the plane finally took off, she breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, she would be far away where the junta couldn’t reach her, and she didn’t have to worry about executions and coups and potential wars. Now she knew how their ambassador to Lauchenoiria must have felt two years ago when everything started to fall apart there. Apparently, the woman had retired after the signing of the Haven Accords due to ill health. Roxana understood that, now – this job was enough to stress even the most mentally stable person out.
*
Lauchenoirian Embassy, Tlālacuetztla
The Lauchenoirian Ambassador, Ramón Banderas, kept calling Buttercity, but he was continually told to wait. He read over the decrees from the Xiomeran provisional government once more, and groaned in frustration. It seemed that his government were very reluctant to decide one way or another. He understood that, but in his position, it made him nervous. He knew that a choice would be forced sooner or later, and he hoped that when he was forced to make that choice, he knew what to do.
It was an unnerving situation, especially for a Lauchenoirian. While the two coups were certainly not identical, there were some similarities that one familiar with how the 2018 Lauchenoirian coup had played out would notice. Ramón was one such person, and as a result he really hoped that his government would find some way to stay neutral. There was no way that getting involved on either side would end well for Lauchenoiria, especially in their weakened state.
He also felt incredible sadness for the Xiomerans. This would damage their country greatly, whatever happened, and it would mess up many lives – and take others. There was no getting around it, and it would likely be worse than their government anticipated. These were things that most Lauchenoirians who paid attention to world affairs would have recognised, though they would react in different ways. The protesters who’d spent every Wednesday outside the Xiomeran Embassy for months, he supposed, might well be quite pleased to see Xiomera suffer.
It seemed unlikely that Lauchenoiria would support the junta, and yet Ramón knew that Alvarez had some kind of personal vendetta against Yauhmi. The logical choice for Lauchenoiria would be to support Yauhmi, as the pro-reform side. Yet, he was truly uncertain about what they would choose to do, and that worried him. For now, though, there was little he could do but sit still, stall for time and await orders.
The Kerlian Ambassador to Xiomera, Roxana Baumer was very relieved when the order came to pack her bags and return home. She’d been hoping for such a message ever since the execution of Cetlalhui, which had made her vomit once she returned to the embassy. The two former Restricted Region employees who’d accompanied her had unnerved her too, of course, leading to her daydreaming about an assignment in some nice, torture-free democracy where these things never happened.
When the coup had happened, she’d had eerie flashbacks to the Lauchenoirian war, and shuddered to remember how badly that had gone for the Matriarchy. Whatever came to pass, Roxana wanted to be far, far away by the time it did. The order from the Council was welcome, though it concerned her slightly: Xiomera was the Matriarchy’s only real ally, and if they weren’t recognising the junta it meant that the Council didn’t believe the junta would remain in power. She worried how they would try and ensure that.
Bags packed, she quickly headed with the other embassy staff to the cars waiting outside, ready to get on a plane back to the Matriarchy. She wondered if she would ever return to Xiomera. She had liked it, in many ways – at least, before that execution. The climate suited her, the food was better than back home, and it wasn’t nearly as patriarchal as the country she’d been assigned to before this. The language was difficult, but now she’d learned it, she wondered where else she’d ever have the chance to use it.
The Council was waiting until she was out of the country before they informed the junta officially that they would be recognising the government-in-exile over them, though it occurred to Roxana that they probably knew the moment the cars drove up to the embassy. It seemed unlikely that she wasn’t being watched. She hoped nothing bad would occur, she didn’t think they’d harm her, but the memories of the execution danced in her mind and it worried her to know what the Xiomerans were capable of.
At the airport, she paced nervously back and forth waiting for the flight, trying to shove down the unpleasant memories that kept surfacing by wondering what she’d do back home. Kerlile had reformed greatly, she kept hearing. Once, she would have been sceptical of such a thing, even going so far as to oppose the attempt. But in the last six months she had become far less supportive of the more extreme policies of the Kerlian Council, and was fully ready to embrace reform.
When the plane finally took off, she breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, she would be far away where the junta couldn’t reach her, and she didn’t have to worry about executions and coups and potential wars. Now she knew how their ambassador to Lauchenoiria must have felt two years ago when everything started to fall apart there. Apparently, the woman had retired after the signing of the Haven Accords due to ill health. Roxana understood that, now – this job was enough to stress even the most mentally stable person out.
*
Lauchenoirian Embassy, Tlālacuetztla
The Lauchenoirian Ambassador, Ramón Banderas, kept calling Buttercity, but he was continually told to wait. He read over the decrees from the Xiomeran provisional government once more, and groaned in frustration. It seemed that his government were very reluctant to decide one way or another. He understood that, but in his position, it made him nervous. He knew that a choice would be forced sooner or later, and he hoped that when he was forced to make that choice, he knew what to do.
It was an unnerving situation, especially for a Lauchenoirian. While the two coups were certainly not identical, there were some similarities that one familiar with how the 2018 Lauchenoirian coup had played out would notice. Ramón was one such person, and as a result he really hoped that his government would find some way to stay neutral. There was no way that getting involved on either side would end well for Lauchenoiria, especially in their weakened state.
He also felt incredible sadness for the Xiomerans. This would damage their country greatly, whatever happened, and it would mess up many lives – and take others. There was no getting around it, and it would likely be worse than their government anticipated. These were things that most Lauchenoirians who paid attention to world affairs would have recognised, though they would react in different ways. The protesters who’d spent every Wednesday outside the Xiomeran Embassy for months, he supposed, might well be quite pleased to see Xiomera suffer.
It seemed unlikely that Lauchenoiria would support the junta, and yet Ramón knew that Alvarez had some kind of personal vendetta against Yauhmi. The logical choice for Lauchenoiria would be to support Yauhmi, as the pro-reform side. Yet, he was truly uncertain about what they would choose to do, and that worried him. For now, though, there was little he could do but sit still, stall for time and await orders.
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