[color=fff200]Most Serene Key Republic delegation-[/color] [color=6ecff6]Bartholomew Hemingway

[/color]
“Landing in just a few minutes, Mr. Hemingway and Mr. Suttbray.” 

Bartholomew was jostled out of his daydream by the announcement sounding over the interior speakers of the repaired Vertibird. Out of habit, he inspected his watch, which was just as broken as ever, and gave it his regular taps- once, twice, and a third time. The news imparted to him by the pilot was certainly welcome, as he’d been stuck on this chilly, sterile craft for much too long with little more than a couple of books and his thoughts.

Technically, he had more company than just that, but he was hardly worth mentioning given the fact that he had slept nearly the entire flight. Bartholomew cast a gaze at his companion, looking across the dark and polished metal surfaces of the Vertibird’s interior. Alexander Suttbray cut a dapper figure, clothed in a fine black notched lapel suit over a black waistcoat and white dress shirt, complete with a white linen handkerchief and a peculiar greyish-purple tie. Above this all was a mustachioed young gentleman with closed eyes, handsome and debonair. Bartholomew was not tricked by this outer appearance of civility and culture however, as he had heard the rumors.

Alexander Blacktongue, the Dark Disciple, Horror of the East- these are the names which were assigned to him in hushed tones back in the Keys. Bartholomew didn’t believe the rumors, of course, as no sane man could believe that some eccentric nut could make people blind with his words or walk into the sea each night, but that didn’t mean that the man wasn’t crazed in some way. But no matter, money and favors went further than rumors back at Key West, and so Bartholomew had been doomed to a boring flight with one of the damnably mad Suttbrays.

There was a jarring jolt as the wheels of the Vertibird made landfall, prompting Alexander’s eyes to slowly open, immediately locking with Bartholomew’s own. A smile which most would find handsome and welcoming crawled across Alexander’s face, and Bartholomew did everything in his power to avoid visibly shivering. The Suttbrays had always been an odd bunch, and Bartholomew was none too pleased with the Senate’s Convention Committee and their contribution to this delegation.

“Seems we’ve arrived,” Alexander said with a smooth southern accent. “We should make haste and meet our security detail, we wouldn’t want to stall the negotiations.”

Bartholomew only nodded in agreement, undoing his safety harness and standing. He straightened his suit and fixed his button in one fluid motion, following it up once again with a quick glance has his shattered and gleaming watch. He had had an entire flight of silence to mull over the possible outcomes of this Convention and the goals which had been assigned to them. The world was moving forward at a rapid pace, and the Most Serene Key Republic was not to be left behind. Establishing itself as the major power in the East and making trade viable with all foreign nations would be vital in the coming years, and this Convention provided the first steps towards achieving those goals. Taking a deep breath, Bartholomew stepped out of the Vertibird after its door was done hissing open, and was immediately bombarded by the bright sun of a new age.

[color=fff200]Most Serene Key Republic delegation-[/color] [color=007236]Alexander Suttbray

[/color]
“Welcome to New Vegas, my most honored guests. I pray your trip was an absolute pleasure.” 

Alexander looked at the large, awkward robot with a look of amusement as it sported a picture of a gentleman in a white suit with a distinct North Floridian accent. The robot was a nice touch, not to mention in great condition and seemingly identical to the numerous others which wheeled around this bright city.

“You can call me Mr. Cook, if you please. I’ll be your guide today- follow me if you would be so kind to.”

The two delegates, who had left their visible guards behind after they had gotten off of the monorail, followed the rolling robot as he lead them down the newly paved streets of New Vegas, which radiated heat. The temperature didn’t bother him as much as the dry, life-sapping air. Alexander found himself thinking of the sea longingly, already missing its proximity.

The city the delegates found themselves in was certainly one of splendor and prosperity. Even Key West was as impressive as New Vegas, with its shining towers and burning neon lights creating an image which almost approached something one would find in a pre-war publication of some sort. His companion on this trip, Mr. Hemingway, seemed to be completely enraptured by the sights all around him, looking every part the tourist. His tan suit stood out in the crowd, matched only by his similarly tan skin, and his brilliant smile almost seemed to ooze the tropical niceties of Key West. Alexander was not necessarily a fan of his ilk- politicians with little ambition beyond the office above theirs.
He, on the other hand, had important business to sort out here, and he had worked hard to put himself into the position to do it. Numerous gifts including a gunboat and a diamond necklace for someone’s dull wife, a couple of promises for support as a patrician, and even an entire small island in the Broken Banks just to solidify himself as one of the delegates. He intended to expand Key influence in the northeast- but only if the Suttbrays could monopolize trade in the region. In addition, he had more personal goals- but those were best thought of out of this oppressive daylight.

Eventually, the pair made it to the building which would contain their rooms as well as the Convention area. They had already received a briefing from the preliminary Republic personnel who were sent to the city under the guise of traders three weeks prior, and were assured that no foul play seemed to be involved. The building itself was particularly impressive, being of sleek and sophisticated design and preceded by a fountain which was obviously of pre-war design opposed to those found in the villa courtyards of the Republic which he was used to seeing.

Still in mutual silence, the pair ascended the marble stairs outside the Ultra-Luxe behind the jolting motion of the wheeled box who served as their guide. Immediately, the door opened before them and they were greeted by multiple waiters in masks akin to those Nawlins patricians were wont to wear. Behind them was a scene of ultimately luxury  and indulgence, but Alexander was more welcome by something else entirely, air conditioning. While Bartholomew did what he always did and spoke at length with one of the waiters, Alexander stepped inside, already seeing the scattered groups which he could only assume were the other delegates. One party in particular caught his eye, a pair of men in robes similar to the garb of the Judges of the Highest Court- Caesar himself, if he assumed correctly. Before he could take any longer to inspect, however, one of the waiters gently brushed passed him smelling strongly of cologne and announced their arrival.

“Introducing Bartholomew Hemingway and Alexander Suttbray, head of the Concordant House of Suttbray, who are here to represent the will of His Serenity Horace Wilson IV and the Most Serene Key Republic!”

Alexander gave an almost unnoticeable scowl of disapproval at the booming declaration, but followed Bartholomew as he lead them to the seats and shot every delegate a wide smile accompanied by a nod.