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Region: The Alliance of Dictators

Collectivist germania

Khovezzem wrote:The Khovezi remained silent while the Lord-Cardinal spoke, with Nasira maintaining her standard warm and welcoming smile while the Archbishop retained his similarly fake, nervous grin and the Pale Man's expression remained stuck between apathetic indifference and seething hatred yet was directed at no specific person in particular. When it was Sven's turn to speak, however, this changed. The nervous sound of his voice seemed to have stirred the Pale Man from his trance as he began to slowly shift his gaze toward the young man as he followed the sound of Sven's voice due to his lack of eyesight. The Pale Man rested his gaze on the boy, fixating a soulless stare on the Germanian with his greyed and unseeing eyes. Despite his obvious blindness it felt as if the Pale Man was staring into the boy's very soul itself. One could almost feel the rage emanating from the Pale Man, even as his expression remained the same. He was clearly not impressed. Even the Archbishop, who sat outside the gaze of the Pale Man, felt nervous and began sweating more profusely and looking away.

Nasira, meanwhile, maintained her usual externally pleasant demeanor. Whether it was genuine or simply phenomenal acting on her part wasn't clear, but she seemed to perk up as Sven began to speak and her smile brightened as she glanced at him warmly for reasons that weren't quite apparent. It was obvious she knew he'd been staring at her, perhaps she was using this against the poor boy? Playing some kind of mind game, psychologically torturing the poor lad? It was clear she wasn't interested in him, that much was obvious. Though she maintained a youthful appearance her motherly voice was clearly that of a woman in her mid 30s at most, making the boy a bit too young for her. The ring on her finger also suggested she was already taken at any rate, and if her demeanor was anything to go by she was clearly not the unfaithful type. Most likely she was toying with the boy, likely for her own amusement, like a cat playing with a mouse - though this was likely far more innocent.

"A fascinating offer." Nasira said when both Sven and the Lord-Cardinal had finished, taking her eyes off the young boy for a moment as her amused expression returned to normal. She seemed to genuinely ponder the offer in silence for a few moments before rising from her seat and walking toward the window, looking out over the city of Arzimo for a moment. The flash of lightning outside seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she'd been in as though she remained facing the window she turned her attention to the reflection of the Lord-Cardinal within it. "Tell me, Lord-Cardinal, what you see when you look at Khovezzem. Be honest; the only wrong answers are well-meaning lies." The Pale Man cocked an eyebrow at Nasira's words. He was clearly not pleased.

Nasira turned around to face the Lord-Cardinal, her pleasant expression fading as it was replaced by a more genuinely inquisitive look. She was clearly interested in his answer, and awaited it patiently.

The Lord-Cardinal's eyes met her reflective stare for a moment before then eyeing off the brutalist concrete towers that pockmarked the panoramic view of Arzimo, taking a moment to search deep for whatever words might best suit what it was he actually saw.

"Concrete, Nasira." He jested quietly as his brain still ticked away to find an answer befitting to the question. A short moment passed before he opened his mouth to continue, "I see air that is not fit to breathe, food that is unfit to eat. I see pain, I see renegades wandering a shattered nuclear wilderness, killing and looting whenever and wherever they see fit. I see them stealing police ordinance and leaving them next to the homeless while they sleep. I see people stealing extension ladders, going up on various store rooftops, and pulling the disconnects on their heating and cooling devices, costing the store owners thousands. I see people leaving threatening graffiti outside the news stations. I see people using the payphones to call ambulances to places, over and over. I see them running through the expensive car dealerships and smashing the windshields when nobody's looking. I see them applying for jobs and then immediately quitting... and I see them learning how to make homemade explosives to disintegrate local power substations. Anger, to sum it up, that's what I see when I look at Khovezzem; a nation that feels cheated out of its destiny, and nonetheless, a nation that persists. That is, perhaps, why it all feels familiar."

Half of what he said, he didn't actually know whether it was true, though it was as though he had actually seen Arzimo in some kind of fever dream and his brain painted the images of what life could possibly be like beyond the glass window. As he was speaking however, Sven had been nervously fidgeting in his seat whilst the Pale Man glared right at him with his pale blind irises; he knew he'd messed up, but why did this have to be the treatment he got in return? It didn't take long for him to shift slightly in his seat and lean across to murmur to the Battle Chaplain, who in turn turned his invisible stare right back at the Pale Man. Sven was, for all his clumsy blunders, still Emmerich's squire and his responsibility and the two had developed something of an almost fatherly relationship during their training. If there was anybody who didn't so much as even have the slightest change of pulse in the presence of this intimidating figure, it was the Onyx Martyr's very own champion warrior -- one in a thousand and worth his weight in gold. Emmerich's thumb toyed with the hammer of the sidearm tucked by his belt, the conversation between Thalmann and Nasira occasionally interrupted by the audible 'click's that emanated from it, wordlessly chastising the Pale Man.

Grossschwaben and Khovezzem

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