Diplomatic Relations {w/Koshachiy}

[Emberling]

Seated in his office in Idela Temple, info tablet in hand, monitor on, papers spread neatly across his desk before him, Erion was brushing up on the latest information and news about the Felids that were to be visiting Idela for an undetermined length of time. He'd been aware of the visit for some time and had skimmed over relevant information in the lead up to the day he was to meet with them, but there was always time for a quick refresher before heading out. As he scrolled through the info tablet a knock on his door sounded, soon followed by his secretary's voice as the door slid open. "Sir, it's almost time for your meeting with the Felid visitors. Sir Venkier said to meet him at the front of the Temple so you can both personally greet them."​

"Ah, thank you, Khitos. Please get my coat, I'll be out momentarily." Erion nodded at the woman who then disappeared from sight before he turned to tidy up his desk. He still felt fairly underprepared, but he often felt like that when it came to meeting visiting species; despite his confidence, and the fact he scarcely ever was underprepared, the little nagging feeling always seemed to linger at the back of his mind. But, with a brisk shake of his head once his desk was cleared, Erion walked out into the foyer where Khitos put his jacket on for him and then walked him to the door.​

"Please ensure that my schedule for next week is confirmed, Khitos, and the office is tidy. Once that is done, you may leave. I feel this meeting will run quite long, but I won't be needing your assistance. Enjoy your weekend." Whilst Erion is rather curt when it comes to, well, just about everything, it doesn't mean he lacks sincerity when it comes to friends and co-workers. Although, his sister may beg to differ. "Thank you, sir. I trust your meeting will go as well as always."​

Feeling as prepared as he was ever going to feel, Erion made his way through the upper halls of the Temple to the lift, oblivious to his secretary watching him leave; in fact, he was oblivious to just about everything she did if it wasn't work related. He gets out at the bottom floor, where the giant pillars that reach to the ceiling are far wider than what he can see of them on the upper levels – there is only 4 in total (for 5 including the ground), but given the Altorians height, ceilings are usually at least 12 feet tall. He can see Venkier waiting by the inside of the front door, dressed in similar attire as Erion; long pants, and a shirt hidden by the long sleeved button up coat with a simple collar that didn't sit quite flat. But that's where their similarities end, as Erion is a deep blue in colour with debossed markings that are plain in colour and has short teal hair; Venkier is red with black markings, about an inch taller, but considerably older if his greying hair and ageing skin was anything to go by.​

"Ah, Erion, there you are. The visitors are due to arrive shortly, and I felt it would be more appropriate that we greet them ourselves once their valet pulls up." He holds his hand out and Erion reaches out to shake it as he comes within reach, nodding in agreement at the idea. "Come, we'll wait at the bottom of the stairs." If there is one thing about Altorian officials, they like to be early, and in Erion and Venkier's case, that goes double. The pair wait for probably another 15 or near 20 minutes, the time filled with the older man chatting away about various other politics whilst Erion just listens, before the limo-like-corvette (a small type of shuttle used for short-distance travels throughout the city for high ranking officials or important visitors) pulls up and the driver steps out to open the door, allowing those inside to step out.​

|| @Koshachiy​

 

[Thorn]

The Felids, or more properly, Homo Felidae, were an artificial race at the roots. They had been born in a human megacorporations labs, and sentenced to a life of servitude for it. A monument to a certain segment of humanity's inability to learn from the past. Once, humans had been bound as such, far into the mists of history.

The results, with that fact in mind, had been predictable. Revolution was as unpredictable as an earthquake and as beautiful as spring. Its coming is always a surprise, but it's nature should not be. A new power had been born, from the smoke and fire of revolution. From that gaggle of renegade corporate colonies, the Colonial Union of Soviet Republics had been born.

And it had adorned itself in the symbols and names of old revolutionaries. Martyrs of the past. A race of ex-slaves with human blood in their veins could do no less then to take up such august banners. But these were not the only banners that they took up. The Soviets had pursued a plan of expansion and construction that placed amongst the other stellar nations of the galaxy.

Who could say where their revolution would go in time? Cold wars raged, and tensions boiled, but the faith was unbroken. How might it end?

...For the moment, however, the revolution led up to a single corvette that wound through the skies of Idela Temple. Inside the shuttle, watching the city go by, was a collection of representatives, clerks and a smattering guards. A small party of eight souls. Lithe and feline. "Ah. Here we are. You see Vasily? It's beautiful."

Vasily, a black-haired, pale-skinned felid shot his companion a look. "...So it is.." He replied, with a twitch of his ears. "The pictures didn't quite do her justice."

A pause, as the vehicle settled down. "Alright." The head of the small delegation, Castro, a blonde, green-eyed male with a dash of silver to his hair. "Let's get this on the road, shall we comrades? Wouldn't want to keep our friends waiting." A small grin, directed at the team. Then the doors to the shuttle opened, and out trotted the small delegation.

A gaggle of clerks and two attending guards, really.

"Ah. They're here to greet us!" Castro remarked, half to himself. Vasily simply....walked besides him, eyes ahead. Documents clutched safely to his chest. His mind purely on his work.

 

[Emberling]

There was a time, really not too long ago, where it was rare for offworlders to visit. The Altorians knew they were not the only sentient races within their solar system, and in fact had had communications with a few of the nearby planets for a few years before first physical contact was made. Erion had only been a few years old when that had happened, but even at that age he had shown a great interest in wanting to meet other races; like many young children he had gone through the phase of wanting to become an explorer. He grew out of the phase sooner than others his age, and with careful guidance from his teachers, began down the path of becoming a government official - with a focus on alien liaison. It was one step away from being an ambassador, more or less, but meant that Erion could stay here, where everything was familiar and simple.​

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"Greetings, my friends," If Venkier was one thing, it was warm and welcoming; ok, two things. The older man smiled in that strange way that old retired soldiers do as he held out his 4 digit hand to Castro, "Welcome to Altor, and Idela Temple. I am Venkier, advisor to the council," he then motions to the man beside him, "and this is Erion, liaison to off-world visitors."​

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"It's a pleasure to be able to meet you all. If there is anything that you would like to know, please don't hesitate to ask." Erion gives a small polite bow, one hand by his side, the other in front of his chest.​

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"Ah, Erion, no need to be so formal." Venkier gives him a light slap on the back with a laugh, ignoring that it caught his coworker off guard and made him take a step to catch himself. Erion tried to keep the frown from his features as he ensured a graceful recovery of the step, and manages a subtle smile at the very least. He casually notes how one of the group keeps documents held close, and feels himself relax a little at the familiarity of such a thing. "Alright, if you'll all follow me this way, we can get things underway. Lunch has been prepared, keeping in mind the information we received of any dietary requirements."​

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As Venkier leads the way up the stairs and into Idela Temple, Erion hangs back a little to bring up the rear of the group, which is mostly so he can try and compose himself from looking too formal and relax just a little, but still not get too casual as Venkier seems to have. If Erion didn't know the man better, he'd have almost guessed that there'd been liquor involved. But no, this was just how he was: casual and friendly. The delegation was lead through the ground floor of the temple and taken to one of the lifts at the back, where they went up two levels and Venkier opened the door to a large conference room.​

​

There was, as to be expected, a conference table set up in the middle with enough chairs for all involved - no more, no less. At the back was a large window that showed off a good portion of Idela, and along the right from the door was a few long tables covered in an assortment of foods and beverages. "Please feel free to help yourselves to refreshments. If there is anything further required, please let me know." Erion offers with as casual an air as he can manage, although it still comes across as fairly formal.​

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It's just how he is. How he's always been since his school years. Venkier often teased him that Erania took all the know-how on how to relax and unwind, but that was always something he dismissed with a roll of his eyes. To those that knew him, he was easy to approach even if at first he didn't seem like he was; that in itself was something Erion had been trying to work on, but it was hard when he always wanted to make sure things went as smoothly as possible.​