Emancipation of Irene, Day at the Theatre
The Rechroatian National Theatre has a ball room where actors dine after shows. Today, it's going to serve a different purpose.
If anyone thinks that Red Croatia's resurgence to the European Union will be a bland affair... they can think again.
This event is by no means going to be a serious political meeting between countries, but rather a hugely sensationalized media affair that is going to be broadcasted all over Europe. Academy Awards who? Every boring outfit by a female politician will be treated as an insult to the Rechroatian culture. Blandness during media interviews will be treated as a declaration of war. If you want to get along with this European superpower, you best be ENTERTAINING.
The ball is being held at the Rechroatian National Theatre in Zadar, a place that was notorious during Red Croatia's activity in the European Union. It's one of the few places in Red Croatia that foreigners are very familiar with, as Rechroatian theatre slays. Rechroats are known for being histrionic and they definitively know how to bring it to the stage.
Every foreigner traveled by plane and landed in the same airport in Zadar. Every road between the theatre and the airport was blocked from being used by the general population to avoid unneeded disturbances from the general population (and possible assassination attempts at boring folk that Rechroats feel don't deserve media coverage). Once the foreigners arrive, they'll see that the theatre is placed on top of a hill and the only way to get there is to walk up a road filled with a ridiculous amount of media. Every slight mistake is bound to be caught by a camera and shared across Europe. Ya'll best be ready to slay this event...
Miss Houston killing her ball look like it's a war prisoner from Davishire
Whitney didn't like arriving early. Nuh-uh. But she was informed by the Queen that she should be ready for an impromptu vocal performance at the theatre, so she wanted to arrive first to get ready. Being Red Croatia's best selling artist, a living legend, she clearly caused a big stir. People screamed for her and every photographer wanted a picture of her but she decided to rush through the red carpet. She had no time for it. "I know damn well that I'm going to be outshined tonight. All the eyes are going to be on those foreign bitches." she rolled her eyes and giggled. "Why can't we stay in isolation?"
The Matriarchy, Red Croatia's most popular newspaper, had a tradition of choosing one person to do a cover story on and they definitively weren't going to choose her this time, not when she already graced the cover countless times and there were so many new and exciting faces arriving to Red Croatia today. "It's probably going to be that bitch, Mariah Carey." She correctly assumed that The Matriarchy will choose the most entertaining person of the night to do an elaborate cover story on in the popular magazine's first internationally released issue in years.
Once she arrived to the theatre she went to a private room reserved for her so that she can do her vocal exercises in peace. "Do-re-mIaIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII will alwaysssss-fa-so-la-ti-doOoOoOoOoOoOoOo..."
Archbishop Craticus and "Anitax Aureliana"
Archbishop Craticus stepped out of the limousine and observed the upward path to the Rechroatian National Theatre. Journalists and members of the media completely surrounded the walk to the theatre. Turning around, Craticus then extended his hand to Aleksandra, and slowly helped her get out of the limousine. Before fully pulling her from the seat, however, Craticus made sure to double-check Aleksandra's disguise.
"Ok, tell me again, why did you insist on wearing a mask of Anitax Aureliana?"
"Do you think I want this mask stuck to my face?" Aleksandra responded while adjusting strings at the back of her head. "I asked a makeup artist to paint my face like Anitax Aureliana and she literally laughed, packed up her things, and abruptly left. She told me she doesn't do Halloween costumes."
"Well, now it totally does look like you're wearing a Halloween costume."
"No kidding. I literally bought this mask from Party City for ł1.99. It's the cheapest item in the store."
"Ok well, I know you know this, but the mask's complexion doesn't match the colour of your skin."
"Oh? Do you think Miss Goddess of Love knows how to match her foundation to the colour of her skin? Please don't worry about me. If anything, the media will be paying attention to you. You're the one that has committed the ultimate Rechroatian crime. You've shown up to a Rechroatian event wearing a black suit and a black tie. Sure, it looks fine, but it's quite literally the most basic thing imaginable. Being basic is a death sentence in this country."
"The Archbishop of the Inquistan Orthdox Church shows humility by wearing modest clothes? Oh heaven forbid it! I'll accept every Rehcrotain fashion critique against me with pride, and I'm sure the Church will approve."
Aleksandra finally got up from the limousine. "Thanks boys," Aleksandra said in a voice that resembled Anitax Aureliana. Aleksandra slammed the door shut and immediately began walking as if she was completely intoxicated. Craticus walked up the hill side-by-side with Aleksandra, occasionally grabbing her to prevent her from falling down during her whole fake drunken spiel.
A member of the Rechroatian media could be heard shouting from the sidelines. "Who are you wearing? Who are you wearing? Excuse me, who are you wearing?” the press member exclaimed.
“I’m wearing Anitax Aureliana,” Aleksandra accidently said out loud. “I mean, I’m wearing, uh… this dress is Phoebe Philo. Oh my gosh, I must be drunk out of my mind! I’m so quirky! And relatable!” Aleksandra remarked, before breaking into her fakest Anitax Aureliana laugh. “Notice that my face isn’t moving? Botox! Trying to look like I’m 24 again. 24 and having fun!”
Craticus elbowed Aleksandra. Whispering very quietly, Craticus mumbled, “I’ve never cringed harder in my life, which means you’re doing a great job of being Anitax Aureliana, but please be careful. I know you told me not to worry, but you cannot make this so obvious.”
Aleksandra, still speaking in her strangely perfected Anitax Aureliana voice, exclaimed out loud, “Oh my gosh! Look who’s here with me - the Archbishop!”
Aleksandra then then moved her hand down Craticus’ waist and began feeling his rear end. Craticus immediately swatted her hand away. The two eventually reached the top of the hill and entered the theatre. As they entered, Aleksandra began to ask out loud, in her most obnoxious tone she could muster, “Where’s Aleksandra? I need to follow Aleksandra. What will I do without Aleksandra? Is Aleksandra here? I need to be Aleksandra, err, I mean, I need to be with Aleksandra.”
Mikaela and Silas Kligenberg
Mikaela and Silas Kligenberg stepped out of their limousine and admired all of the paparazzi that swarmed the path up the hill.
“This is going to be so much fun, you have no idea Si!” Mikaela squealed.
“I’ve seen the guest list and there’s not even one hot single woman here tonight,” Silas sighed in disappointment.
Mikaela gasped. “I’m single.”
“Yes, but I’m talking about eligibility. For myself.”
“Ohhh…” Mikaela said as the sound of two brain cells barely working together could be heard rumbling in the empty confines of her skull.
Mikaela grabbed Silas’ hand the two started walking up the hill. The pair were experts when it came to dealing with paparazzi, so they naturally knew how to serve the best versions of themselves to them. After a few short steps, the two stopped holding hands and Mikaela began to pose for each and every camera. Silas didn’t mind posing at first, but he quickly grew impatient. Straightening his blue tie, Silas flashed one final cheeky smile and then quickly made his way into the theatre. Once she got to the top of the hill, Mikaela showed off his lace maroon dress and spun round. While spinning, Mikaela’s heel caught on her dress and she tumbled forward, straight over a barricade that separated the red carpet and the paparazzi.
“I’m so sorry!” Mikaela apologized as she pulled herself up. Mikaela, while still wearing heels, hoped over the barricade and back onto the red carpet. She then walked into the theatre as if nothing happened.
Montenbourg last edited by Montenbourg
The Queen of Montenbourg, Grace the Second, stepped out of the Royal Motorcade. Members of the media completely surrounded the Queen. She watched, waited and walked towards the upward path to the Rechroatian National Theatre.
Royal Emissary of Red Croatia, presented and received at the steps of the Rechroatian National Theatre, the Queen of Montenbourg with a hand kiss. The media photographed the moment. "A beautiful country." She said walking towards the entrance stairs.
A member of the Rechroatian media could be heard shouting from the sidelines. "Who are you wearing? Who are you wearing? Excuse me, who are you wearing?” the press member exclaimed.
“Goodness!" She smiled. The emissary said secretly that she didn't had to answer, but the Queen proceeded. "Dear, I’m wearing a special Veuve Noir of Reveries, former Renata Kligenberg” said. The media started flashing and the fans where screaming seeing this special-queen-fitted edition of the designer. To all of this the Queen continued the walk towards the entrance showing-off her dress.
Irene von Taurus
Irene had no intention of unveiling her outfit for the press until later in the day, but she still looked at the people she invited to the ball with impatience. When she saw the queen of Montenbourg walk the red carpet she was red with jealousy and impatience. "Just wait till they see my outfit, they're all collectively going to GAG... she looks damn good though." she thought. The more she thought the more she realized that she doesn't have the patience to be an ominous figure at this party, so she decided to keep herself entertained till she makes her media appearance by inviting Grace from Montenbourg and Mikaela from Inquista to join her in bedroom before she puts on her dress.
Irena saw this as a great opportunity to start a friendship with the two and become "girlfriends" with women who were at the top of their respective states. Grace seemed like a powerful woman who could potentially identify with her while Mikaela, though looking a bit basic for Irene's taste, might have a lot of value for her. Mikaela is influental in Inquista, the country she wanted to push out of Sahara, so by befriending one of Inquista's most powerful women, she might make the process much easier.
"I can already imagine the news stories... IRENE DECLARES THAT IN SPITE OF BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH INQUISTA'S MOST POWERFUL WOMAN, SHE FEELS THAT RED CROATIA DESERVES TO BE THE SOLE PROTECTOR OF SAHARA. Befriending her will give me credibility. I won't look like I hate Inquista. I'll look righteous and just! A woman who just wants to do the right thing for Sahara. And Craticus won't be able to save her from my grasp unless he wants his secret exposed. That silly, silly man. Just when you think he's sunk as low as low can get, he decides to fuck that fucking Aureliana bitch. May the Goddess of Love watch over him." She laughed at her own joke after thinking up her plot.
Mikaela turned around and observed Queen Grace walking through the entrance after showing-off her dress. Mikaela immediately grabbed Queen Grace by her hand and entwined her arm around the queen's arm.
"Councillor Emma Granger, you look stunning tonight. I heard so much about you. I always had the impression that you were 28 years old or something... but you do not look a day older than 25! "
With her arm forcefully entwined with Queen Grace's arm, Mikaela dragged her poor hostage through the theatre. "I'm a fan of everything you're saying in the European Council. You know, back in the day people thought I was saying controversial stuff about the EU, but you're really sticking up for those who need it most. You truly fight for the most vulnerable people, and they appreciate the support. David beat Goliath in the end, right? Oh! Sorry about the spoilers. Anyway, you definitely have my support for Premier Commissioner."
Without letting Queen Grace talk or correctly identify herself, the ever-chatty Mikaela continued to hold single-sided conversation with her mistaken victim. "Ok, let's see if we can find Queen Aleksandra. I have to introduce you to her. Isn't this cool... getting to meet a queen? I know you've probably never experienced such a thing, but trust me, it's not that big of a deal really. Queen, schweem. Everyone has a title these days. All women are queens, don't you agree? Queen Aleksandra is a darling though."
MIkaela couldn't spot Aleksandra anywhere, so she decided to leave the main hall and drag Queen Grace to the bedrooms. There, Mikaela noticed one bedroom with an especially large and ornate door. "Aleksandra must be inside," Mikaela commented out loud. Instead of knocking, Mikaela jumped in the air and struck the door with the full force of her foot while yelling "Hiyah!"
The door flung wide-open after Mikaela's impressive display of jiu-jitsu. Feeling proud of herself, Mikaela looked over her shoulder towards Queen Grace. "It's Callagh-jitsu. Master Susan Callaghan taught me herself. She called me her best student, even."
Smiling, Mikaela grabbed Queen Grace by the hand again and yanked her into the room. Mikaela was initially surprised that she couldn't see Aleksandra inside the room. Instead, Mikaela saw this other beautiful figure sitting before her eyes. It was Queen Irene. She was busy doing her makeup.
"Oh! Sorry to bother! Do you live here? Why are there bedrooms in a theatre? I mean, living in a thratre isn't a bad idea, actually, so I don't judge. Sorry about the door. Do you know where Queen Aleksandra is? I'd like to introduce her to Councillor Emma Granger."
Irene von Taurus
Irene was completely shocked when Mikaela displayed such complete total ignorance to everything that was going on at the event. Was Mikaela seriously unaware of what happened to Aleksandra? Or no... wait... Mikaela knew. No, Mikaela knew EXACTLY what she was doing. She came up to her to insult her crown and imply that Aleksandra is the true queen of Red Croatia. Irene couldn't believe it.
"You. Little. Bitch."
An intensity took over Irene. All she saw was RED... and all that Grace and Mikaela were about to see just how sensitive the new queen of Red Croatia is. She was extremely insecure about her questionable place as the new ruler of Red Croatia, which made her react extremely agressively.
The extremely tall, statuesque woman stood up and walked up to Mikaela. "You know exactly where precious Aleksandra is. The no good traitor is somewhere in Sahara, hiding from me so that I don't break her precious little neck. She almost destroyed this country and left it up for me to prevent us from dealing with a disaster. She corrupted the royal line of Aries and destroyed Red Croatia's long tradition of selectively breeding their heirs in one night of irresponsibility."
"In a country that's an absolute monarchy and the Queen is responsible for keeping everything in check, you aren't allowed to have weaknesses. You aren't allowed to have human flaws. You aren't allowed to have any other motivation than to serve your country. To make your people HAPPY. And she didn't live up to that, so I had to replace her..."
"..and you're gonna respect that, you little bitch." Irene, a woman who studied under the great sensei Callagher herself, bitchslapped the fuck out of Mikaela. Because Grace was on the right of Mikaela, Irene made sure to slap her on the right side of her face so that she falls leftwards and doesn't ruin Grace's gown. "Bow down, Inquistan whore."
Montenbourg last edited by Montenbourg
Queen Grace the Second.
"I think, one always has to accept one’s own part, I believe, in any mess."
She said that in the middle of the talk of the two women, firmly and with serene eyes."I do not wish to be part of this meddling sort of personal situation between both of you."
She stood and look to Irene and Mikaela."No women has to bow to another, and In an increasingly complex world, we all need certainty. And I'm certain that I wish not to be part of this situation and degradation of treatment from both of you."
She walked towards the door, paused, looked back and said.
"For the record, I'm Grace the Second. Queen of Montenbourg...Ladies with your permission, you need to get your tiny situations to rest. Once again the world has proven: Anything you both can do, others can do better."
She shut the door and walked towards the hall of Rechroatian National Theatre talking to the press and high officials.
Mikaela wasn't sure what hurt worse, the physical beating she just received from Queen Irene or the verbal assault she received from the serene and stern Queen Grace. Mikaela rubbed her face and quickly got to her feet. As Queen Grace marched out of the room, Mikaela threw her arms up in the air and apologized, "I'm sorry Queen Greta! I'll see you around! Take care!"
Mikaela then turned around faced Irene. "You won't believe this, but this is the second time I've already fallen down today. Now, I think you've made a mistake. I don't know where Aleksandra is. That's why I came looking here for her! I didn't know that she is no longer the queen. I had no idea that she almost destroyed your country. I had no idea about selective breeding - whatever that is, or whatever Sahara Davenport has to do with this."
Mikaela exhaled deeply and then sat on the bed beside her. She was feeling pretty dizzy following the hard blow to her head. "I'm so confused. What's your name?"
Irene von Taurus
Irene gathered herself after the scolding comments of Queen Grace. Though she hated to admit it, Grace was probably right. Irene acted too agressively. But considering the fact that Mikaela responded in an extremely apologetic way, Irene realized that her rash decision might benefit her in the long run. "I have the true instincts of a queen here. Eat your heart out, Grace. Mwahahahahaha!" She helped Mikaela get up. "Poor girl, I am sorry for being so harsh on you. I thought that you were insulting me, when in reality you were just ignorant. It's alright."
"Come along now, dear." she took Mikaela's hand and gently guided her to sit on her bed. "Of course I have a bedroom in a theatre, darling. I drag all the hot actors through here. Nobody plays Romeo without this important audition." she laughed at her own joke. "Not literally though..." she leaned toward Mikaela's ear and whispered "...I'm more of a Juliet girl myself." she then leaned back after laughing at one of her own jokes again. "Joking! Joking!"
"Ahhhhh..." she took a breath to relax from all the great humour.
"ANYWAY... I am sure we are going to hit it off well. I'm convinced that we're going to be the bestest of friends one day, and that we are going to laugh at how we met! Now, do you want to see me my ball gown? My impeccable fashion sense is one of the reasons I became the Queen and not some other bitch, you see." Poor fashion sense was actually a legit reason to impeach someone from authority in this country, because if you can't present yourself well to the world, how in the hell are you going to represent a whole damn country? (Can i get an amen?)
After practising some of her signature whistle tones in the car, Mariah felt ready to show up and slay the Rechcroatian National Theatre with her look and vocals. She always knew that no matter where she went in Europe, someone was going to ask her to give an impromptu song. Mariah turned to her assistant, a petite half-Aboriginal lady, and smiled.
"Denise, darling, I think we're about ready to make our entrance. You know, you have to let the irrelevant girls show up first before you make an entrance," Mariah said in her sultry speaking voice. Mariah looked out and saw the red carpet's flashing bulbs. The press, as one of the few international stars that was able to continue to show up during Red Croatia's period of isolation, were calling out left right and centre. Mariah smiled as she glided along in the white dress.
"Mariah, who are you wearing?" asked a journo from the line on the left.
"Sass and Bide, they're one of my favourite Australian brands, and this butterfly ring was a gift from Red Croatia. You know I love Red Croatia as much as my home in Adelaide," Mariah smiled as she posed for pictures. "Red Croatia certainly knows its music and fashion, darling. Australia still has much to learn when it comes to fashion."
Mariah could see HM Grace II, Queen of Montenbourg down the red carpet and the host, Irene and genuinely smiled at them before realising they were preoccupied. Denise tapped Mariah on the shoulder.
"They've got Moet & Chandon in there. Shall I get a flute ready for you?" Denise asked.
"You know me so well!" Mariah said back to her. "But you know I'm going to need bottles to deal with some of these guests; you know it's so exhausting meeting new people. I heard Whitney is going to be here, so I'm sure I'm going to get called her by half of the bitches in this place." Denise and Mariah laughed as the two made their way into the theatre. She saw Mikaela Kligenberg and Silas as well before sliding over to the Moet.
'Hmmm, this will be quite the interesting event,' thought the diva as she sipped her champagne. Denise brought over a bottle of Evian as well. Mariah at first wondered why the accompanying bottle of water before realising she'd said earlier like she would probably have to sing impromptu at this event.
"Do we know where the Prime Minister and her husband are?" Denise asked Mariah.
"Oh I don't pretend to know what Hillary and Bill are doing, but I imagine she's finally learned the art of being fashionably late," Mariah replied. "Hopefully she's had a couple of bottles of wine. She's much more of a party when she has some."
"You know her?" Denise asked.
"Yes. Hillary has had me at the Lodge several times to sing for private events there," explained Mariah between sips of champagne. "She can be entertaining, but only when drunk. Like most politicians."
The moment she heard an army of screaming fans from outside the theatre, she knew what just happened. Mariah Carey had arrived. Even though Whitney was definitively the main diva in Red Croatia, she was always envious of Mariah Carey. Mariah's first album had four number ones singles on the Rechroatian charts while Whitney's had three. She was outsold by a foreign artist in her own country. It was downright humiliating. It wasn't until Whitney's recent sensational success with The Bodyguard that she built up her confidence. "That Mariah film... Glitter, was it?.. flopped harder than Maleeka Liszckoszi's visit to Dromund Kaas while The Bodyguard merchanside is still outselling Kylie's lip kits. Praise Jesus. Ha! The Lord is good, the Lord is good!"
Going off of 2018's charts, Whitney was the main pop girl, so her ego wasn't fragile. She walked up to Mariah, who was drinking champagne, went for a hug and whispered in her ear during their embrace. "We are going to crush these diva rivalry rumors once and for all." Whitney looked over at the group of reporters that began swarming the two and smiled.
"MARIAH, ARE WE GOING TO GET A COLLABORATION?" one reporter asked.
"OMG WERK QUEENS YASSS SLAY US!!!" screamed the gays.
Mariah turned to Whitney and smiled. She was caught completely off guard by the greeting but felt comfortable with the statement.
"Whitney! It's so good to finally meet you. I agree; you know those rags like a fake catfight among two secure, confident women in the industry," Mariah answered. "It's time to put those rumours to rest. The Bodyguard has been such a massive hit! I listen to it all the time while I think about the lessers and wonder 'why can't they be this bold, this creative, this unique'. And then I remembered they are lesser, and need to watch from us and learn. So a collaboration is in order. How are you doing, darling?"
Mariah switched to some water. She knew that Whitney was, in fact, the queen of belts and her strong vocals were formidable. Truth be told, despite Mariah's debut being massive in Red Croatia and in Europe, she kept her eyes on Whitney and the beauty that was her vocal lessons in concert. She knew that after the Bodyguard, she was going to have to do something bold and imaginative. That's why, later on this year, the Emancipation of Mimi would drop. A new direction, a new vision and freedom for her music. Yes, that would be perfect.
And what would be better than a collab with Whitney Houston.
Mariah looked around and as Whitney answered, she turned back to Miss Houston.
"I have to be honest...that lady wearing that black gown looking like an urn with a drapery...I don't know her. Who is that? And why is she mangling that poor Renata Kligenberg original. Clearly it needs your legendary figure to fill it out, Whitney and wear it properly," Mariah said to her.
Red Croatia last edited by
The Main Bitch
Though Whitney was being a bit fake when she came up to Mariah, Mariah's sincere friendliness blew her away. "Why should I hate on this woman, when the two of us can hate on lessers together?" She took Mariah by her hand, lead her to a door to a more private room, paused, turned around and said: "For the record, I'm Whitney Houston. The Voice. And you are Mariah Carey, the Songbird Supreme... So lady, with your permission, we need to make a collaboration and leave the European Union shook. Once again we will prove: anything those Eurovoice competing basics can do, we can do better." She shut the door and walked Mariah to the hall in which she did her vocal exercises earlier this evening.
"We are going to give the gays EVERYTHING they need."
The Elusive Chanteuse
Mariah looked around the room. She had, of course, lost her assistant as Whitney was moving so fast, Mariah had no chance to say anything. She looked around the hall. It was a beautiful space, tastefully designed in Rechcroatian revival splendour. Mariah saw Whitney begin to test the echo of the room. Mariah let out a few notes to the end of Butterfly, beautifully delicate and floating through the space before unleashing a few notes from her unreleased single, "It's Like That".
"It's a beautiful space for a little impromptu collaboration," Mariah said to Whitney, "which of course will lead to a studio collab, which will end the existence of all of these female artists in the game struggling to achieve what we have."
Mariah looked to Miss Whitney Elizabeth Houston for the next step.
Hillary Clinton, Prime Minister of the Federal Commonwealth of Australia and Bill Clinton, totally not an adulterer
"Bill, I told you this was too late," Hillary replied. "We should have saved dinner for after the event." They stopped at the popular Australian fast food chain In-N'-Out before heading into the plane and taking off to Zardar. As a result, they were about an hour late to showing up.
"Listen, I told you Hillary, I needed that Double Double before we got on this plane or I'd pass out at the event," Bill replied.
"...Animal style and all?" Hillary said with raised eyebrow. The limo stopped at the theatre and Hillary downed her wine quickly before getting out of the car. She stumbled slightly and Bill caught her as the press, less animated for Hillary and Bill than they were for Mariah. Hillary full expected it however. She had been briefed by the Australian Civil Service that Red Croatia is very into their celebrities, and while she was the first elected female Prime Minister of Australia, she isn't at the same status as entertainment figures and their own political figures, who are overwhelmingly female.
"Ah," Bill replied. "Just like they said."
"Hillary, why are you wearing an Angleteric blue trashbag?" asked one of the reporters. Hillary pretended she didn't hear at all.
"If it wasn't this, they would have trashed a pantsuit," Hillary replied. "Besides, it's not cold and I'd like to be comfortable here."
"Don't tell me," Bill sighed. "You are still thinking about that little trip."
"You know Alun Jones will be all over me for that..." Hillary snapped back. "...At least we'll be able to hopefully lay down the foundation for a relationship between Red Croatia and Australia."
The Voice, not The Songwriting
"Mariah girl, I know that you're the songwriter here, but I want a credit too! I don't want everyone to think you're doing all the work and that I'm just singing on your track! So, let's test out some melodies, eh? Let me begin and you can join in!" Whitney cleared her throat and began ad-libbing:
"It's so hard to share the same oxygen
With so many basics
But at least the general public knows
What having good taste is
Because they always make us number oooooneeeeee!
Oh yes they do!
It's hard knowing that the number twos
Always make music that's such a mess
But at least the number one spot is blessed
Because that's the spot we occupy!
Oh yes we do!
When we make this song together
To the top of the charts it will be sent
North and South Inquista will look united
Compared to the other girls' split ends
Because their weave is cheap!
Oh yes it is!"
Mikaela had absolutely no idea what Irene was going on about, but Irene's expressiveness and enthusiasm made her laugh. Besides, whenever somebody else laughed, Mikaela couldn't help but laugh herself. As Irene made jokes, Mikaela squealed in shrill laughter. "I haven't seen all of Shakespeare's films, so I haven't seen Romeo + Juliet yet, but I've seen his movie She's the Man."
Mikaela was thrilled with Irene's invitation to inspect her ball gown. "Yes please! You have to show me. Here, I can help you put it on. Also, please let me finish your makeup. Sorry again for interrupting that, by the way."
Mikaela got up from the bed and grabbed some makeup from the nearby vanity. "Bring out the dress and I'll finish your makeup right away."
Icholasen last edited by Icholasen
QUEEN ANASTASIA, of ICHOLASEN and PRINCE THOMAS, Duke of ROMAIN
Queen Anastasia and Prince Tommy were in the grand lounge of the Augustine Palace, when Anya realised where they were supposed to be.
'Oh, merde!' Exclaimed Anastasia.
'Hey, watch your French'. Tommy replied indignantly.
'We were supposed to be on the private jet an hour ago, can you stop doing coke and come and join me please?'
'Do I have to? Mikaela's going to be there.'
'You have to. You're still the Duke of Romain - and you will be until Augustina becomes of age. It's your constitutional duty to come.'
'Where is Augustina anyway?
'She's with Poppy in Europolis - I needed her and the triplets out of my hair for this trip.'
'Fair.' Tommy resumed his usual pass time.
Anastasia summoned Pierre, their butler. 'Pierre, would you please fetch our away bags?'
'Your Graces, I would be happy to.' Responded Pierre.
When Pierre returned with their valises Anastasia cooed and cursed as she rushed Tommy out of the Imperial residence, to the small private airstrip that the royals used to make quick getaways abroad. The plane was positively tiny, but Queen Anastasia remembered fondly her days with the late Prince Charles of Prussia. They arrived in Red Croatia in record speed, owing to the nimble quality of their aircraft. When they landed, they rushed to the theatre in a lavish car.
'This is exciting huh Tommy?' An enthused Anastasia asked a non-enthused Tommy.
'I, for one, am not excited. They would need at least two showbiz divas - TOGETHER - to make it worth the trip.'
And so the royal siblings arrived at the theatre, and when Tommy walked through the door he was gobsmacked at the divas. Anastasia was equally gobsmacked that Hillary Clinton was there - she was inspired by how youthful and at peace she looked. 'It must be all that confidence and supply politics - it takes 10 years off you.' Anastasia thought to herself.
Irene von Taurus
Irene felt immense satisfaction from successfully manipulating Mikaela. "Now she's doing my make-up. Oh lord! God bless. I have her right when I want her." However, what Irene did NOT expect was Mikaela's lack of make-up knowledge. Irene ended up looking like a pre-pubescent Jeffree Star on the day he first put on his mother's high heels. She looked like she had no confidence and no supply politics because Mikaela clearly aged her additional ten years. "Whatever Goddess of Love Anitax Aureliana prays to must be responsible for this. Because this busted of a face can only be a sign of divine intervention."
"Um, you know, I really decided that I might want to do a no make-up look today. I want to show my people the natural beauty of a Rechroatian woman. I want to show everyone my natural charms." she winked. She went into the bathroom and took everything off, returning with messy hair, no make up and wearing a traditional leopard print Sahwari robe. "This Sahrawi robe is actually an important artifact of Sahrawi culture, you know... It's a restored version of a dress that was worn two thousand years ago by our Rechroatian ancestors in Sahara."
Queen Irene von Taurus looking positively 2000 thousand years behind today's fashion trends. She might get impeached after this one, bitch...
"Now, let's go!" she took Mikaela by hand and revealed herself to the press with absolute confidence, and as expected, an Emperor's New Clothes scenario occurred where every member of the press simply raved about her fabulous no make-up look was and how well it went with her two thousand year old dress that her servants dug up somewhere in the Sahara desert. "Oh look, Queen Anastasia and Hilary Clinton are here! Two powerful women from other countries that we genuinely respect, don't we?"
Irene went over to Anastasia and kissed her on the cheek. "You look fabulous, darling. Welcome to the ball, queen!" she then invited Hilary to come on over and join their red carpet chat.
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Anastasia returned the gesture from Queen Irene.
'It's so lovely to be back here in Red Croatia, this land of culture is so magnificent. It's amazing to be back - it feels like centuries since I've been here - I suppose it feels like that for you too Hillary. I must say you don't look a day over 58.' Anastasia erupted. 'Oh wow what a gown!' Anastasia said to Queen Irene. 'Where is that from?!' Anastasia exclaimed, not waiting for a response. 'It's truly charming! It's so unusual!" She took it in her hand, and with one mortifying, involuntary yank she accidentally ripped part of the dress. The dress was was so flimsy, and so old (and frankly, tacky according to Anastasia) Anastasia barely had to touch it for it to disintegrate in her very hands. 'Oh my goodness.' Anastasia, said, backing away sheepishly.