a fool amongst men || MANDATORY MEETING

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[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify;"]THE FEAR OF FALLING APART
Today was not pretty.

For once, the king was not his proud self at the podium. Instead, his hands were in his palms and his back slouched ever so slightly. Today was the end of a country and the beginning of two separate ones. Frederick had tried his best to hold onto his power, but he had not succeeded in his actions of doing so, causing the uprising of many once-loyal members of Kalopsia. Now they were left in shambles. Many of his high positions had joined the other side, stabbing him in the back, and others had remained loyal in hopes they could smooch off his remaints. The thought immediately prompted his utter disgust. Thankfully, and sadly, he had other things to do in the meantime.

"Kalopsia!"

His voice boomed across the marble meeting hall. Those that gathered felt shivers run down their backs and the ones that had not came dropped what they were doing. This was not his friendly greeting. Instead, Frederick's voice was cold and harsh. Their King was on the edge and they damn well knew the consequences if they did not show up to the throne room today. They knew what was about to happen too. After all, the revolution led by his former friend did not go silent throughout the country. It caused families to split and friendships to be broken, along with several parts of the territory to be ruined.

As they gathered in silence, his gaze rose up from his palms and onto his people. Familiar people, family, and friends had gathered by his side. Some in fear, others in remorse and joy. They looked upon him carefully. As their gazes observed him, they began to notice the bags under his eyes and how unkempt his hair was. This was unlike their King. Frederick, despite their looks, carried on nevertheless. His back straightened and his throat cleared, offering a light huff before he started to speak. "Earlier I discussed a treaty with Prometheus which was unsuccessful, despite my efforts," he stated off the bat. There was no time to discuss the smaller details, instead he went straight to the main topic. "Our country has officially split in two. I will still lead Kalopsia, but we will now we known as Griffingate from now on. As for them..." His gaze moved away from the audience momentarily. "I'm not sure." Prometheus had went all the way to Asia with his band of misfits, so he did not know of their news until he managed to get some spies over there.

For now, he set up precautions. "Despite this, we still reign strong. Those who serve the rebellion are no longer one of us, but instead Prometheus' puppets." A sneer crossed his lips. "The ones who serve him will be counted as our enemies and those who served under me during that time are officially renounced from their ranks." His hands crossed together over the podium and his shag fell forward into his eyes as he leaned forward. "Consider this a blank state." Frederick's eyes scanned his audience. "We don't know what spies lie within our ranks, so it is better to start anew." He did not need to be stabbed in the back for the second time. "Prove your worth and you will be granted a rank." It was easy as that.

Pulling back again, the sovereign scanned the crowd again. "I do not think I have anything other than this to announce," came his cold phrasing. "Please state your ideas and concerns here, folks, as we're going to dearly need them in the times to come." Frederick stepped away from the podium and towards the audience so he could talk to them up close. Hopefully, his efforts would not be for nothing.

Though, unknown to them, Prometheus had died by his hand earlier along this road. Another leader had arose in his place and was beginning to spread the propaganda against their dearest leader.

Frederick seemed awfully broken up about the nation-wide break up. Of course he would be, what reigning sovereign wouldn’t? But Mordecai couldn’t resist indulging in a sense of smug superiority. The revolution had hardly shattered his life. The violence ripping through their land like the harsh crack of a whip had given him all he needed to make a few necessary changes in his life. The death of his wife, which brought that loveless marriage to a standstill, followed by the disappearance of his children who only ever could have brought him the same disappointment and irritation that the pouting bitch who bore them for him did. All were officially casualties of the chaos that had pried Kalopsia in two, and Mordecai got to be a hollow, broken man soldiering on despite his wretched circumstances. That was the idea, anyway.

His eyelids lowered and lips tensed into a hard line and he tried to look a little more hollow and broken to offset that smug delight that had been boiling for so long in the otherwise frigid cavity of his chest ever since he finalized the last details of his wife’s death. She was visiting her parents. She was always so sweet, so kind in that way. How could she have known?  How could she have known that her husband would do to her what he did, and then blame it on bloodthirsty, restless dissenters? Mordecai kept his icy gaze on Frederick despite his mind drifting elsewhere.

A clean slate. I couldn’t agree more. How refreshing, to feel as though life truly was beginning anew. Mordecai raised a figuratively bloodstained hand to signify that he was going to speak before he did so in a voice that flooded the hall like cold water.

“[color=#6E7F80]And what do you plan to do about the potential spies in our midst?” Was cutting everyone down to the same size and hoping infiltrators got bored vying for secrets and standing their only line of defense? Whose job would it be to screen for threats? Keep tabs on suspicious activity? Find the spies? “[color=#6E7F80]With that, what would go into proving one’s worth?” Showing up to a handful of functions? In the interest of mitigating the advancement of particularly dedicated spies, Mordecai hoped there would be a more in-depth vetting process than that.

Charles had been a new face in these parts. He wasn't originally born in Kalopsia, rather in parts not too far away. How unfitting for the country to be split in two just after he arrived. Luckily, he hadn't developed much of a patriotic warmth towards the place, so he remained unfazed by the change. But he could tell that it wasn't the same for some of those around him. Even now, he could feel an uneasy ripple through the crowd as they listened to Frederick speak. He only pursed his lips, eyes remaining blank as he stared expectantly at his leader, still watching him even after leaving the podium's side.

The unfamiliar man that spoke up had a good point, though. He had spoken of proving their place, yet he hadn't exactly specified what was to be done. He wasn't afraid of being kicked out, but it would also be a major inconvenience to have to move again so quickly. He was fine, as long as he didn't have to return to his parents, who he had put so much effort into getting away from. If he ended up crawling back to them, there was no telling what they would have planned.

Really, though, he had no reason to be thought of as a spy or some assassin aiming to stab the king in the back. He had barely spent a full year there, thus not having any sort of attachment to any of the leaders or their affairs. But even with this in mind, he could still feel paranoia tingling in his back, only because of the possibility of having to return to his childhood home.

"SPEECH"

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Simon was more than bitter about the split. He hadn't lost any friends and he hardly had any family to care about, but it did make it tougher to trust the people around him. Just when he'd been beginning to consider it, too. All that progress was down the drain and he really hoped John would be there soon becuase he was the only one he could trust through everything. The unnecessary conflict was annoying and they honestly had bigger things to worry about. Instead, some insignificant people decided they weren't happy and screwed everything up. Now they had to look out for spies and the damn traitors in case they tried any funny business. He'd removed his sunglasses in the hall, crossing his arms and glaring at the people around him as he listened to Frederick.

Griffingate. He had to admit it sounded a whole lot better than Kalopsia had, but still, the change wasn't exactly welcome by him. He swore to himself he'd gut any spies found among them still. Glancing around again, he didn't want to stay too long but someone else was speaking up and he rolled his eyes. It seemed rather obvious to him what to do with any spies, but he knew some people around loved the idea of mercy and shit. For some reason. He wasn't going to say anything, though. Not yet at least.

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[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify;"]THE FEAR OF FALLING APART
Mordecai's words stained his thoughts. Now, he had thought about that, but he wasn't sure of his exact decisions on the matter. Death? Let them go peacefully? Well, it was really up to him: the dealer of dues. Frederick could simply not word a response that held his true answer, as he had none, so he answered the other man vaguely with a grumble. "We will be looking into it." Now that he had everyone demoted and at a regular status, the sovereign had to choose new nobles to do this treacherous task. Someone that would also keep it under the hood. No one need to know what lurked under the loyalty's rule, as it was none of their business, nor should they care about these spies. They were simple traitors in their midst. Not family, nor friend, but disgraceful beings that are no longer worthy of being... well... alive.

Facing the crowd instead of Mordecai by himself, he deeply announced his answer to them. "You can prove your worth by bending the knee and doing your job, sir," he continued on. "Those that work hard, keep their mouths quiet, and point the finger at those being naughty will get what they desire." Frederick's brute expression now held a small tint of a smirk upon his features. His gaze shifted away from the audience, finally moving back onto the one who answered the question. "So keep yourself busy, okay?"

Finishing off, the male's lips pursed together. "Anything else?" Truthfully, he figured that they would have plenty of questions, but only one had asked so far. Perhaps it was out of fear.

[align=center][div style="width:400px; text-align:justify; font-family:times new roman"]It isn't the nation's petty quarrel turned bad breakup that has Elise worried. The politics and the motives and all that jazz, the things pulling the strings behind all of this could not matter less to Elise. She's here for the ride, whatever that may entail, and this is no more than just a smudge of dirt on her collar. It's an inconvenience at best, and an obstacle at worst. Not that she has any grand scheme planned; she does have a vague, utterly ridiculous goal chock-full of ambition, but it's all just stupid dreams retained from her childhood. It's things like wanting to rule the world, wanting a unicorn, wanting to be a princess—nothing specific, really, and most definitely unrealistic, but still lingering in the back of her mind.

Out of the curious characters making up the crowd, Elise could be considered the least likely to be one of the horrible people Frederick mentions. She might have her skills in the art of deception, but espionage is just too far out of her league, and assassination is too messy for her liking. She doesn't care enough to serve any rebellion. It's too much work! But she doesn't mind having to work, and if she's honest the thought of being rewarded for all that work in the form of having a high rank to lord over everyone else is a thought Elise likes. And, unfortunately, she has nothing to add to this conversation, but she does have to agree with Mordecai over there. "How are we going to find these spies?" Elise asks. "How do you suggest we weed them out?" The best course of action seemed to be diligent surveillance, however she can imagine nobody wants to be watched so closely like that. 

a matter for adults well tasked in understanding the ins and outs of the polotics is what this might've been considered, but andreas refused to remain outside of such things. the rebellion, those who had caused it, it was in that chaos that his mother's life had been taken away, though not by those who had started the rebellion, oh no, by his own father. andy didn't speak, although he remained conciously aware of his father amongst the crowd, that alone causing his heartbeat to speed up. no, he needed to concentrate, this was important. frederick, when he first spoke, seemed almost sad, andreas had grown up used to the inspirational figure, his posture always straight and his head always high, just like the king he was. though it was fair that in this moment, he was allowed that small display of remorse. in this case, they had lost, they had failed in taking down the rebellion and that rebellion had become a whole other faction of its own.

spies? andreas swallowed thickly, he was not a spy himself, he'd lived here his whole life, but the thought of them being around made him feel on edge. they could be anywhere, watching their every moves, they could be anyone. he had to hold himself back from throwing mordecai a suspicious look. his father was a horrible man, but a spy? unlikely. "we need to focus on rebuilding ourselves," andy's voice was shaky and he had to clear his throat, a hand tugging at the black strands of hair on his head. "we need materials, food, weapons, your highness, where would you have us start?" it was a matter of prioritization of course. while rooting out spies was important, so was rebuilding and restocking what they had lost. food and weapons, at least for the moment, seemed the most important in his mind, but, he was unsure, hence why he'd asked the king himself.

Huh, so the nations split. That was a shame, truly, it was. But Soap would never say this out loud. The Celt moved, standing near his soldier, just slightly about Ghost. His blue eyes flickered as they settled on the one he called king in these times. Blasted politics. They had to ruin everything, physically and mentally. He wanted to sneer and give a sarcastic remark, but he held off on it, instead watching with his arms crossed. This king thought he was so far up, didn't he? Well, he supposed if he ruled fairly, that's all that mattered.

//original post got deleted. sorry this is so short.

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