The Importance of Eating Earnestly (IC)

[Anaaxes]

The President laughs and says, "The entertainment has arrived early, I see! Bravo, majesty, you would make a fine magician-." Secretary Pearson interrupts him, "Mr. President! Please. Calm down. You're making a fool us in front of the King of Avaerilon and everyone else." President Blatchford replies, "Oh, he's probably going to be awfully drunk in a moment; he won't remember a thing!"

Ms. Pearson facepalms.

[United Democracy of Scientists]

Dyson sat at the bar with his ice water, having ordered a small amount of mint along with it to help soothe his aching throat. He felt shell-shocked by the amount of hydroxyl-laden hydrocarbon flowing through his blood, and was unable to bring his attention to the confrontation happening acrossthe room. Realizing that he would likely pass out without any help before dinner, he noticed the coffee machine behind the bar.

"Bartender... iced coffee, please."

[Deleted]

"Finally! We may converse in peace." said Diego.

[Anaaxes]

"Damn milk-drinker..." Blatchford mumbled to himself, glaring at a painting of a man in a feathered hat as he turned his gaze away from the other guests. (Skyrim reference ;))

The ever-embarrassed Secretary Pearson, goes to join Mr. Dyson at the bar.

[United Democracy of Scientists]

Dyson sips his cold coffee as Pearson comes to sit down next to him.

"Damn wizards and their tricks, eh?"

[Anaaxes]

"Yep. Pretty impressive, though."

"Bartender. A bottle of red wine please." She pours a large glass, drinks it in seconds, and pour herself another.

"How are things going in the United Democracy of Scientists?"

[United Democracy of Scientists]

"Well, things are still pretty hot with the Märr crisis. The highers up in Security and Foreign Affairs are hoping that the plan to catch the sonuvabitch works, and Space Exploration keeps on whining about how they want to launch the damn rocket already. I swear, when we first thought that we were about to get bombed from orbit, the state of things in the Halls... I have some friends who needed stitches."

[Ceni]

(Zunkwentania)

As the two Ministers chat about the merits of their various nations, Obiid finds himself at the bar along with Diego. "Mr. Valtan, would you like something to drink?" "Do you happen to have any alcoholic drinks with almond in them? I particularly enjoy moonrise thunder, a Cenian classic." "Indeed we do, Mr. Valtan." The bartender poured a whitish, thick drink into a flute. "Here you are, sir." Obiid finished his conversation with Diego and his drink, and returned to the drawing room. 

---

(Avaerilon)

Obiid bows back to the King. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I have enjoyed your country so far and I hope to enjoy your hospitality. Our nation wishes very much, indeed, to have greater diplomatic relations with the nation of Avaerilon, and the rest of the SLU as well."

[Avaerilon]

"The pleasure is mine, Minister, and I am confident our nations will forever be closer together for this meeting.I have heard you visited Minas Avalon before arriving here; tell me, did you visit the restaurant on the second tier with all the flowers outside? They serve the best guar I've ever eaten outside of Morrowind."

---

Ridcully had drunk two bottles of iced water, but it was clear the scumble wasn't going to go away any time soon without some help. "Now lemme see..." He fumbled around in his pockets, and then in the cone of his hat, before pulling-out a small jar, filled with what appeared to be purplish, clouded water and a collection of small, whizzing balls. He unscrewed the lid, and took one of the balls out, placing it in a glass of water, which he then proceeded to drink. The fizzing, zinging water helped lift the descending fog from his vision, but still his head throbbed like a beaten cymbal, and his throat was agonising. "Desperate measures, I s'pose," he managed, as he heaved himself out of the armchair, and plodded towards the bar.

"I say, tender? Give me that bottle of Wow-Wow Sauce, would'ya?" Marc gave the wizard a worried look, but nevertheless fished an ice-filled container from a cabinet, in the midst of which lay an innocuous little bottle, filled with a reddish-brown liquid.

"Hmm, what's that, Archchancellor?" Asked Dyson inquisitively. "Shh!" Ridcully put his finger to his lips and whispered. "Wow-Wow Sauce!" "What's Wow-Wow Sauce?" Katherine stared at the bottle suspiciously. "The hottest sauce in the universe," replied Mustrum "Old family brand, that. Been with us for, well, centuries. Millennia, even! Anyway, this stuff, with a bit of the old Englebert's Enhancer here," he said, waving the jar of fizzing little spheres at them. "Mixed properly, of course, is the best damn thing for any unpleasantness from a bit, er, too much to drink, y'understand."

"Does it really work? My experience of most pre- and post-hangover remedies is, in fact, that they're placebos whose disgustingness is simply a way of making the unfortunate victim feel they're drinking something medicinal." Ridcully chuckled. "Well sir, let me say this for the stuff; a weaker version made the Oh God of Hangovers a sobre man again. Or rather for the first time, I think, yes."

The old wizard placed the contents of the jar of enhancers into a large crystal water jug, which he then mixed with a small amount of yoghurt, iced water, and tonic. He then took a large pair of tongs from the confines of his robe, put on some thick, heat-proof gloves, and a pair of eye protectors. "Yeh can't be too careful, now," he said, as the other three people stood back.

Taking the bottle in tongs, he poured three tiny drops into the jug, which promptly caught fire. "Oh bother," he said, and flicked his fingers at the fire, a small stream of water spouting from his fingers, extinguishing the blaze. He took off the protective gear, sniffed at the jug, and poured two large glasses after frowning at the glooping liquid.

"One for me, and one for you, good sir."

[United Democracy of Scientists]

A smirk crossed Dyson's face. "Hot sauce, eh?" He grabbed an empty shot glass from the bar counter and snatched the hot sauce bottle from Ridcully's tongs, nonchalantly removing the cap.

"You should know that I eat Jolokias regularly, and have felt the heat of pure Capsaicin on my tongue!" Ridcully's face grew to shock while Dyson portioned himself out a shot of the stuff. "You can have that yogurt!" Dyson let out a shiteating laugh before downing the shot and setting the glass down right where he had found it. He let out a single light cough, smiled, and continued sipping his iced coffee.

[Avaerilon]

Ridcully looked worriedly at Dyson, and then at his own drink. He emptied the glass easily, with a small mustache over his moustache. He then looked again at Dyson, and inspected the bottle, taping it gingerly. "Hm, it's reached critical, but did I put enough saltpetre in with bri-"

The wizard stopped as a loud bubbling noise became apparent, along with a reddening Dyson. "Nothing like a good bit of hot stuff, eh, Ridcully? I must say I don't know whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!"

Dyson leapt from his stool, smoke belching from his throat, his eyes fixed-wide in the pained expression of a man who knows what the sun's core must feel like. Ridcully snapped-into action, grabbing some grey cube from his robe and forcing it down the flailing man's throat. There was a bubbling noise, and then a fizzing as the devilish substance in the representative's stomach was neutralised. Dyson collapsed onto his stool, tongue lolling like a dog on a hot day, and as floppy as a baby. "Get me a bottle of beer! Quick! Actually, better make that two, I need one as well!" The bartender grabbed a pair of bottles from the fridge, handed them to Ridcully, who pulled on his before easing the other's contents down Dyson's throat.

"There, there, old chap, it's all right, it's all right. I remember my first time with the damned stuff- put a whole dollop on a side of beef, and ended up in the hospital! Haha, but you're all right, d'ya hear, old boy?"

He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket, mumbled some words, and twiddled his fingers. Dyson felt awash with a chilled feeling, which was the nicest thing he'd felt all evening. Ridcully put the bottle of Wow-Wow sauce back in the ice-box, and had Marc lock it away.

"What in the universe is in that stuff?!" "Best I don't tell you, old chap; I feel even knowing the composition would give you cause to feel all hot again. But here's to never having a cold ever again, eh?" The wizard said, raising his bottle and finishing it off. "Now if you will excuse me, I need a damned sit down..." Ridcully plodded over to a free armchair, and fell asleep in seconds. 

Dyson looked around the room, sheepishly, but thankfully the guests were either laughing and talking too loud to have noticed the small explosion, or were avidly listening to Aubrey talk about a dangerous expedition he once undertook.

He reached into his pockets, and pull out a notebook.

"Note to self- stick to chilli, avoid whatever's in Wow-Wow Sauce."

He paused.

"Also- never, ever eat with wizards alone."

[Anaaxes]

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try some Wow-Wow Sauce," as she accepts the bottle from Dyson's hand. She fills a shot glass with the peculiar sauce, and takes a drink. Her face instantly cringes, while she nearly spills the remaining contents of the glass on her dress.

"Bartender. Could you please get me some ice water and some heartburn pills?" she says frantically, as the other men laugh.

As soon as the bartender offers the water, she quickly drinks it and says, "Thank you very much." After she finishes, she says, "Well gentlemen, if you would please excuse me. I'm going to go check on President Blatchford."

(Oops. Conflicting posts)

[United Democracy of Scientists]

Dyson paused once more, thought for some time, and procured something from his lab coat pocket. A bag of sterile inoculation loops. He looked back and forth, and carefully collected samples from the sauce still clinging to the sides of the used shot glass. He carefully put the loops into another empty bag, and deposited both back into his coat pocket. 

He wrote one last note: "Will analyze composition of sauce for reverse engineering once back in UDS. May possess clinical applications."

Noticing himself to be alone at the bar, Dyson finished his coffee and proceeded to Aubrey. He still had the contents of his invitation letter clear in mind.

[Ceni]

(Goncar)

"I am very well, sir. It's very nice to meet you. Our country is aiming for greater diplomatic relationships with your country, and indeed, the rest of the SLU."

[Goncar]

" Indeed. Our country needs to be..... what's the word..... Exposed, perhaps, to other countries in the SLU. This way, Goncar can be more open to other ideas. Luckily, I brought he man you would be hearing from a lot more when we return to our respective countries. The Director waves over the Minister. " Mr. Obiid, this is the Goncaran Minister of Foreign Affairs and Embassies, Caleb Young."

"Pleased to meet you sir," the Minister replies.

[Kingdom of Grolsch]

Chargé d'Affaires Eirik Törpedou of the Grolschian embassy quietly waited in the airport lounge for the other Grolschian representative to arrive.  Jackie Märr-Jones,  Director - Multilateral Cooperation & International Organisations Division of the Grolschian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, is known to enjoy making other people wait as a display of power. Törpedou made some calls and replied to more than a few e-mails. Still no sign of Ms Märr-Jones. Finally, seven hours late, an old propeller plane arrived with Märr-Jones on board.


"Sorry, the Government Golfstram broke down", she said, referring to the small private jet the Ministry of Foreign Affairs usually uses for ferrying officials to other countries. The only plane available for short-term charter was a 64-year-old Dügloss DG-3. "Well, at least you are here now", Törpedou said. After being waived through immigration, the two Grolschian officials stopped a taxi and asked the driver to drive to the location of the Conference. The driver dropped them off a few hundred meters from the residence, so Törpedou would have ample time to assure Märr-Jones that he wouldn't get too drunk.

"This is a nice place, ladies and gentlemen", Märr-Jones said to the guards at the Residence. "It is", one of the guards replied, "you'll definitely enjoy yourselves, the King will make sure". 

[Ceni]

(Goncar)

"I will be pleased to work with you in the future, Minister Young," Obiid replied. "I hope that this dinner will be an opportunity to link all of our nations together with economic and political ties. We are all brothers here in the SLU, and we wish to increase that brotherhood by diplomatic ties. We shall definitely talk more later, Minister."

---

(Avaerilon)

"Yes, Your Majesty, it was delicious indeed. I have very much enjoyed your country so far; you have a very beautiful city, and palace. I thank you for allowing us to come here and witness your quite beautiful nation. I shall hope to come here again, and I don't think you'll need to hire a tourist agency to promote your nation, it's so beautiful." 

[Avaerilon]

"Your are most complimentary, sir! I certainly hope you deign to grace us with your presence again, and perhaps we can look forward to seeing more Cenians on Avaerilonian soil? I likewise certainly desire to see Ceni; I suppose a royal visit in the nest future might be just the thing, if your government is that way inclined."

"My liege," said an attendant, bowing to the men. "The Grolschian delegation has arrived, sire; it appears their plane was delayed with some sort of engine trouble or something else. At any rate, sire, I shall show them in, if it pleases your majesty." "Oh, excellent, indeed. Well gentlemen, please excuse me," said Aubre, handing his nearly-finished glass of lemonade to a passing waiter. "I must welcome the latest arrivals."

---

Eirik ran his fingers along the floral carved stone archway, the lines of rose stems trailing elegantly in the sandstone they were carefully chiselled-into. Jackie was busy admiring the purple roses that lined the pathway, each one blooming with a scent-laden perfume. An attendant, dressed formally, bowed to them. "Excellencies? I have the pleasure of escorting you in." The two Grolschians followed the young man, who led them into the great house, with old aged panelling and landscape paintings lining the hall, with the odd tapestry here-and-there. Eirik stopped the attendant with a question; he pointed at a large portrait of a man, lightly bearded with curly hair, atop a unicorn mount in regal armour.

"Who is that a painting of, may I ask? That looks just like King Aubre, from the photograph the embassy sent over to us." "Well, excellency, it is in fact Arthur; His Majesty's great ancestor and founder of our kingdom." The young man stepped over to the portrait and gave it an appraising look, as if evaluating it. "He does rather look like His Majesty, though, doesn't he? I never saw it so clear, myself; you get used to seeing both Arthur and His Majesty nearly every day." "Is this a recent portrait? Maybe done after Au- his majesty was crowned?" "Oh no sir, this one dates back to the 1500s. I suppose it makes sense, none being able to ride a dragon since Arthur and all that. Anyway sir, madame, I have the pleasure of showing you to the drawing room." Said the attendant, his arms gesturing to the large door in front of him. "One question of my own," asked Jackie. "Does His Majesty breed any unicorns?" The attendant chuckled. "Oh, no ma'am, he doesn't." "Ah." Jackie and Eirik shared a knowing smile; dragons might have been real, but unicorns? Even Avaerilon had its limits.

"But he does ride the one that lives in the wood across the lake."

Eirik and Jackie looked at each other, and then looked at the crest above the door, which had a gryphon as a supporter. "I suppose it's a mercy we don't have to deal with one of those, then."

"His Excellency Eirik Törpedou and Her Honour Ms. Jackie Märr-Jones of the Kingdom of Grolsch."

[Kingdom of Grolsch]

Still in awe, Eirik Törpedou bowed to the King and presented his credentials. "The Delegation of the Kingdom of Grolsch would like to present credentials, King Aubrey!", Erik said, while unfolding the invitation letter. "Majesty, may I ask, where's the tap water? I do not want to put strain on your budget, so I rather drink tap water".

---

Jackie Märr-Jones let Törpedou handle protocol on his own and immediately walked to the bar, where she joined several other government officials. "Can I please have a Caifé Gaelach, bartender?" "Sure, anything else?", the bartender replied. "Yes, unicorn salad, please", said Märr-Jones.

[Avaerilon]

Aubrey bowed to Eirik, his arm crossed over his chest. "Crysso yn entach īren elym, velorn ad entachodd ('Welcome greatly to you, friend and excellency'). Oh come now, Excellency, the water is bought and I am well-provided for; do not feel you must limit yourself. At any rate, all our bottled water is drawn from a spring not 5 miles from here, and it is not an expensive thing in this country. Please, let me offer you something cold and refreshing," he gestured at a waiter, who brought over a large, fluted, blue-glass bottle, stopped with a ceramic stopper. The king took the bottle and poured a glass for himself and his guest.

---

Marc put a measure of Bushmills into the fresh, black Morrowish coffee, and topped it off with a small amount of cream. "I'll get one from one of the attendants, ma'am," he said, presenting the coffee to her. He returned a moment later with a plate, on which lay golden caramelised biscuit in the shape of a unicorn's horn, filled with a mixture of fresh mint, chopped hazelnuts, almonds and vanilla mousse. "If ma'am wishes to see the menu for tonight's dinner, the chef will be presenting it shortly, though I can say one of the choices for the main will be pheasant; I saw them bringing a brace of birds in this morning."

[The Commonwealth of Feebland]

Thump!

Having parachuted successfully onto the driveway of the palace, Chancellor Alexander of Feebland made his way to the front door.

"It appears I'm late!" he exclaimed as he stripped off his skydiving apparel to reveal a traditional blue and green Feeblish suit. Alex pulled on his knee-high leather boots, tucked his pants into them, and rang the doorbell.

[Avaerilon]

The sounds of a musical little bell rung in the room, and Vetinari looked up, puzzled. "Majesty?" Aubrey pulled a confused face. "I think one of our later arrivals may have thought it polite to ring on arrival; no matter, we know they're here now." "Who might it be? The Feebish Chancellor?" "I think so, Havelock. I heard the man was skydiving in; damn shame I missed that!"

---

"Ah sir, if you please?" Alexander turned around, and saw two attendants, one of them holding out his hands to take the parachute and suit. "Ah, sorry for ringing the bell! Didn't see you there," said Alexander, allowing the second man to show him into the hall. "Didn't expect anyone would still be outside!" The man showed him to the door of the drawing room.

"His Excellency Chancellor Alexander van Duijn of the Commonwealth of Feebland."

Aubrey bowed. "Crysso nerna'r llwn ad yr īthilelīon ('welcome with the moon and stars'). This is indeed an honour, Chancellor, to welcome you to Avaerilon, and to my hall. I am sorry to have missed you entrance! Perhaps we will be fortunate enough to see a repeat of it sometime?"

[Kingdom of Grolsch]

Jackie Märr-Jones noticed a new arrival: Chancellor Alexander van Duijn of the Commonwealth of Feebland. "Chancellor, impressive landing! We haven't talked for a while", Märr-Jones said. "Indeed, let's join the other officials at the bar", Chancellor Van Duijn suggested. "Agreed", replied Jackie.

[Goncar]

"Well look whose here! Chancellor Alexander of Feebland, how do you do?" asked the Director.

[Avaerilon]

The various diplomats and dignitaries continued to talk for a little while, some sipping wine or water, some telling jokes, others relaxing in the large armchairs, until a clock rang for the half hour. "Honoured guests," Aubrey announced, conversations slowing to a silence in a few seconds. "It is now time for us to leave for the garden. If your highnesses, excellencies and esteemed honours would kindly follow my dear friend Lerelys," he said, introducing his manservant, who bowed graciously to the assembled guests. "then we will be ready to begin the next part of this evening."

The Dunmer led the group through the hall, and turned down another corridor, which ended at a grand door to the garden. Stepping outside, he stood to the side, where, on the veranda, a group of guardsmen stood. Clad in plate-mail, each wearing a large Fereldonian longsword and an Avalonian helm, they made for an impressive site. Their captain wore a long, purple cloak, and he took his helmet off to bow to the King, kneeling on one leg as he did so. Aubrey spoke to him in Avaerilonian, and then the captain rose, and six of his charges formed a bodyguard around the king, as they went into the garden, accessed by a door made of old, twisted trees of holly. Each head of state found they had an honour guard of two men, as well, and followed the king through the arch, the other dignitaries following Lerelys, with three guards bringing-up the rear.

The twisting branches became a tunnel old old wisteria, which was in-bloom with lilac flowers, fallen petals proving a carpet on the ground. At the end of it was a little wrought-iron gate, and a passage to the left. One of the bodyguard opened the gate, and the party arrived at the formal gardens, whose curved ponds, statues and flora was gorgeous beyond reasoning.

A small number of waiters stood patiently, trays of Champagne, iced water and other refreshing drinks at the ready from a small outside bar. A number of elegant, white-painted metal tables and chairs stood clustered in-front of a large chest, manned by a senior attendant. Lerelys, gestured for the guests to sit down and make themselves comfortable.

They satm the guards going to stand behind their king, who stood in-front of his guests, by the chest. "My honoured and noble guests, I would like to once again thank you for conferring the great honour upon me by coming to this reception and dinner. I am most flattered by your kind words and willingness to partake in this event, and would like every single honoured soul here to feel welcome at my home at any time." He bowed lightly, before continuing. "As it is custom, I the host present each one of my guests with a gift, so that they may return to my home once more."

The senior attendant, opened the chest with a great silver key, and Aubrey took a velvet-wrapped object from it.

"For Her Highness, Crown Princess Ārohi, let this gift signal a friendship to endure beyond the stars." Ārohi stepped forward, blushing, and curtseyed to Aubrey, who bowed and presented her the object. "It is customary among Avaerilonian women of grace and respect to carry one of these in formal situations. I hope to one day see your highness with this." She unwrapped it to reveal a dagger, sheathed in leather. She drew it out to reveal a blade of silver mithril, shining keenly in the evening light, with a fine hilt of metal made to look like shells, with leather covering the middle. Small, perfect gems twinkled on the hilt of this fine weapon, whose blade was carved with the following runes:

"She has no name, this blade," said Aubrey. "But since she if made of mithril, and will never dull nor rust, she is worthy of one."

Aubrey then drew a small thing from the chest, about the size of his palm. Wrapped in velvet, it seemed the air around it tingled. "For His Grace, Patriarch Garrett van de Polder." Garrett stepped forward to receive the gift, and bowed to Aubrey, who did the same. It was a fine clasp of platinum, shaped like a Maltese star, set with a collection of small sapphires surrounding Garrett's own birthstone, which had a curvaceous, elegant letter set in it; the Avaerilonian letter for 'g.'

"It has been more than 50 years since one of my predecessors awarded a guest of your honour, Patriarch, with such a clasp. This is Yr Īthil Velornaddlon, or the Star of Friendship, and given to those honoured leaders deemed worthy of such a thing. Fewer than 20 have ever worn one, and I am pleased to present your grace with one. It has been blessed and enchanted by mine own hand, and I hope no stain shall touch you, no rip to your clothing, nor harm to your person with this upon your self. Whether it affixes cloak, coat or sash, it would be an honour for me for your grace to oblige me."

Garrett was nearly overcome with the sheer value and intricacy of the clasp, and shook Aubrey's hand warmly, hand clasped on his forearm.

And so each guest received a gift of great worth; Richard Dyson was given a gold-plated telescope with its own complex dials and charts built-into it, and President Blatchford received a great kite-shield made of old, seasoned oak and shod with mithril, his own seal shown on it in beautiful rendition. Eiphyr vad Geldmorhen was presented with a case of 12 bottles of Cornlasyeth, arguably the finest brandy of Avaerilon, with the year "1830" stamped in wax on the bottles of red-gold pleasure. Austin Walls found himself in-possession of a fine crystal carafe and set of crystal glasses, which when filled with liquid glowed the colour of what was put into the, and President Oestrond now owned a great, weighty staff of old yew, with neat runes along one side, a great emerald set in its egg-like head, and a silver tip on the bottom. There were too many fine gifts to list, each given as if the king knew what his guest would find useful or be pleased by, and each one one of the finest examples of its kind anywhere in the world.

---

After the gift ceremony, some trumpeters sounded their horns, and the company gazed into the horizon, as a gentle roaring began to fill the air, and something like a great bird could be seen far off.

"Honoured guests, highnesses and excellencies, please enjoy this brief flyover by the pride of Lenredd Aer Regnerol Avaerilon, the Vulcan."

[Chameliya]

The Crown Princess held the dagger King Aubrey had given her and admired its beauty. Its slender form caught the sun and enamoured her.  "She will be called Kasam. it means 'promise'.  A promise that our nations will forever be united."  She delicately re-wrapped it the velvet she had been given it in.  "Your Most Royal Majesty, I would weep of your grace and generosity to me were it not for the joy your kindness does fill me with."  Ārohi gave another curtsey.  "Your Most Royal Majesty, I humbly beg that you will allow me the honour of presenting you with a gift of my own."  Aubrey bowed his head gently, smiling warmly.

Ārohi walked to the fine garden table she had been sat at and picked up an ornate silver box that she had place there.  She returned to the King and offering it to Aubrey with both hands outstretched and her head bowed she said, "This is a gift from me and my people."  The box was decorated in fine ivory elephants and pearl flowers.  "This box was made over 300 years ago when elephants used to live on our islands and the 70 kings of Chāmeliyā united to become one people.  A box was given to each king and were passed down through the generations.  Where royal lines intertwined, multiple boxes accumulated like this very box.  Each box designates its owner as one of the legitimate heirs to the throne of Jasminia".  King Aubrey's eyes were wide with fascination, he opened the lid on the box.  Inside was a fine red powder.  "This is timur.  It is powdered dhārākhursāni, a rare species of pepper that grows in the clean air of our mountains.  It is the spice of kings and the most treasured and prized produce of our islands."

King Aubrey began to blush, "Your Highness, I cannot express what honour you do me with these gifts.  I will truly cherish these, I will always remember our ... our kasam."

[The Commonwealth of Feebland]

"Oh, how I love the sound of the Vulcan! Such a beautiful piece of engineering," Alex exclaimed. Since his childhood not so long ago, the Chancellor has been in love with aviation.

"It is quite the opener to a party, Your Majesty. Compliments to those who keep the old bird flying."

[Goncar]

"Why thank you, your Highness. De glaubach hoüten brewín jyštern. Oop, pardon me. It means 'This one is pretty, isn't she?' It of one of the national Goncaran languages of siłer," the Director said gratefully as he admired the crystal carafe.

[United Democracy of Scientists]

Dyson marveled at the beauty of the thing handed to him.

"Apochromatic refractor," Dyson muttered as he looked up to Aubrey. "In my country, Mars, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Venus, and the Great Andromeda Galaxy are all present in the night sky. It would be my pleasure to supply you with pictures of the heavens themselves using this gift."

[Anaaxes]

"Your Majesty, wow, please accept my endless gratitude for this magnificent gift. Your generosity simply overwhelms me. I shall cherish this shield for as long as I may live," the President said while admiring the shield in his hands.