Kellarn smacks his 'lips'. That was a truly grand feast...mutton from ireland, and apparently they shipped in three tons of cardamom for the dessert from what was once Syria. Decadent indeed. As any dragon is after eating a large meal, the Ambassador-Count of Foreign Relations was drowsy now, but he had work to do. Sighing, he waved for his slave, Culisse, to come over. When she did, hesitant and timid as always, he suppressed a sigh, partially because it likely would have carried neuro-toxins in it...his kind never could fully stop breathing out poison. It was one of the reason environmentalists had advocated for killing them, a few dozen years ago, before the Draconic Coup. But also because he wished that she would be more forthright and courageous...take inititative! He liked her, he really did, but she needed to prove her worth to society before becoming more than a slave, and currently it was a bit harder for a Hume than a Drake. Hatchlings tended to prove themselves in the course of getting girls, as children weren't allowed to be slaves, and dragon adolescents could often be quite accomplished, unlike most human teenagers...the Brown Dragon(properly known as Mottled Forest-Leapers, but fuck that as a name. Sounds like they're hippies.) winced a bit. Technically they weren't slaves, but rather 'state indentured servants'. As were a very few dragons, mostly ones who fucked up really badly in positions of power.
Shaking his comparatively small head -only as large as Culisse's body, rather than her car- he spoke very softly, so as not to hurt her ears; it still sounded harsh and loud to her, he could tell though, from the way she cringed back. "Culisse, could you please fetch me a spot of tea? Caffeinated, of course. And inform Dame Ituis that I'll see her in a few hours. His Royal Majesty, in all his undoubted wisdom, wants me to begin discussions with some of the more recently emerging countries." "Yes sir," she replied, and handed him a clipboard as large as her torso, though it was still rather small to him. Then she scampered off. At least he could hear her now...dragons didn't have the best hearing, and when a greenist bomb had been set off next to his head during the 60's...Oh well.
What was needed...oh wonderful. A briefing on Thursday. Just what he needed...More wet-work. As if he didn't have enough paperwork to deal with too...Well...Henry could handle this new 'Golden Realm'. They didn't seem to hate humes like some other nations did, and he was a good negotiator. He'd probably need to talk to Kymore personally though, and should deal with the New African Unification Movement ((The nation who also claims Iberia)) soon. They were getting feisty, and it wouldn't do to have an international incident so soon after the last time. Barlut could go to East Asia, talk to the Lungs and the Franchisers around the same time. Unfortunately, they also wanted him to contact some rebel groups. Russia was getting a bit pushy over Scandinavia, and they had some juicy tidbits...apparently, some of their spies said there was a thriving group there, and if they needed funding, the UNNEDM, or the Kingdom as everyone called it, could provide it with their good economy. And noone could fault them for moving in the prevent the rebellion from spreading once it took root...by the time the Czar-Drake realized the real reason their troops were there, it'd be a bit too late. The terrorists might even welcome such a change of pace; His Majesty never killed humans without good reason. Rebellion would shatter the nation, so he tried to keep everyone as happy as possible. Which meant equal rights for humans and dragons, though what ended up happening is dragons having fewer, but the existing prejudice against humans still prevailing...The dragon did sigh, this time, habitually breathing the poison plume back in before it could affect anyone. A nearby potted plant did die, though. Sad. He'd have to talk to someone about reimbursing the owner. Another thing on the mental checklist...
The forty foot drake stretched his wings, plenty of space for such a small dragon on the wide streets her in London. His kind could only really glide; their wings were meant to lower the effective body weight while running, rather than actual flight, but he though he could make it over this row of houses, to get nearer to the wing port.
((I feel like planes for dragons would be motorized systems and semi-hang gliders to attach to their wings to help them go long distances more easily, rather than actual pressurized things. Tanks would be slow, purposefully heavy and very armored, but with good tracking systems, meant mainly to counter dragons, who could decimate light vehicles and infantry. Warfare is changed, as is SO much by the addition of dragons))