Spirit of the West
Adam I
Colonel Adam McCormick acted as a proper Americanist should, he accepted the good King's hospitality with open arms and no complaint. 'Turn the other cheek' as the Abrahamic would say, or did they even say such? Anyway, the King had been just as he expected, just as Lord Quellon had described his leader. He was friendly to his guests, empathetic to his citizens and had such a flair for the dramatic. He hadn't known Lord Quellon for long but at least he didn't give the impression of being a boot licker, a kiss ass or someone to mince words. This image of the King was most satisfactory, for the most part anyway. Despite the alluring quality of his appearance, the command he demanded or even the bizarre history of his bloodline, Adam felt no 「Gravity」 around the man. Although it wasn't as if he felt 「Gravity」 among the other Westerosi he encountered. It almost seems as if people beyond the Atlantic, had no Stand Users among them at all.
Stands, the manifestation of a person's fighting spirit, a gift from the heavens and possibly Father Washington himself. An avatar of beings will, ever vigilant and ever-present beside its User. As its name suggests, a Stand will stand by its User. The number of Stand Users in America wasn't quite public knowledge, nor was it even knowledge available to him. Although gauging by the number of Stand Users that lived in his home city, in Providence, there would be one User per two thousand individuals, Fathers knows how many there are. So far it seems, such wasn't the case at all in Westeros and possibly much the same in Essos or beyond. He had yet to encounter a Stand User, a question withstanding was whether these new people were even capable of handling a Stand at all? A line of experimentation to be explored upon a later date for sure.
Even among the forty or so foreign nobles in their troupe, none had batted an eye at the veritable swarm of bees encircling them. Dozens at a time passed by the faces of the King himself, and none of his attendants came to his aid. No one gave a hint that they even heard the buzzing of the insects. If any of them could see them, they would notice how unnatural their appearance was compared to actual bees. Every one of them was coloured a metallic gold, not in place of where the yellow would be, but in its entirety. If one were to take an even closer look, the 'bees' took on more the appearance of a flower, the Fleur-de-lis to be exact. An ancient, Antediluvian, symbol of power from the Old Continent.
Ultimately among a city of half a million souls, none of them could bear witness to his 「Off to Philadelphia」. That was to be expected at this point, from Lonely Light to Pyke, there were no Stand Users. From Lannisport to Oldtown, there were no Stand Users. From Planky Town to here, in Kings Landing, there were no Stand Users. Despite the strangeness of the situation, he felt a freedom like no other to be given free rein to use his Stand to its full extent. If he were to use his Stand in the same matter as he did now in America, someone was bound to have noticed and would subsequently inform his superiors of his misconduct, not an ideal situation. The end of a Judge's gavel with a court-martial would be the least of his worries. But here with enough poking and prodding, he first noticed no one in these kingdoms had a Stand, with each soul ignoring his Stand a reassurance that he truly did have ample opportunity to stretch his wings. So, stretch his wings he did, where he discovered that his 「Off to Philadelphia」 could travel as far as the horizon reached.
Even in the relative safety of his home of Rhode Island, he faced regular encounters with opponents with similar abilities. So, if ever there was a single Stand User in Westeros, the force of 「Gravity」 would have brought himself and them together. Not even a day had passed in this city, and no one had yet to acknowledge let alone attack one of his Stands, which was just as good for Adam. Fathers willing, he would be lucky enough to have no witnesses to his gross misuse of his gift.
Adam was sent to this New Continent to assess; to assess the people, their way of life, their leaders, their abilities and capabilities, to simply assess. That was what his 「Off to Philadelphia」 was capable of. It wasn't as powerful as the others, and any single bees could be disposed of easily, but his Stand was a Colony Stand. When one falls, a dozen takes their place. Now he had tens of thousands of his 「Off to Philadelphia」 flying about Kings Landing and just beyond its walls.
Each one a set of eyes and ears for Adam, taking note of everything it could witness. The young urchins with quick hands taking off with a fool's wages. The sound of workmen indulging in their base urges at a brothel. The sound of a hammer striking on an anvil. From cheesemongers to whore mongers, mercenaries to priests, decrepit crones to bawling infants, his Stand witnessed them all at once. Although, if he were to pay attention to them all at once, it would have overwhelmed his senses beyond human comprehension, he had learned of such a limitation when he was a child. Knowing a Stand User, one would try to actively avoid the reach of one of his Stands, if not outright attack one, such actions would have been alerted to Adam. If no such thing has happened yet, he could do well to pay attention to his current surroundings, his guards couldn't guide him as he walked forever.
He and his guardsmen followed behind the Targaryen and his entourage. They were led out from the near cavernous Great Hall, outside to one of the prominent towers of the Red Keep. The 'Red' Keep he pondered at the name as he watched the red sandstone bricks the palace was constructed from. Maybe once upon a time, possibly centuries ago when these walls were first erected, they were red, but now, time was not kind to the royal castle. It was said that when they were built, the fiery red sandstone was to be a reminder of the Conquerors dragons. Of dragon's breath, burning those enough of a fool to defy, and struggle against the Last Dragonlord. Or it was simply that red sandstone was the closest and most abundant stone to a quarry, who truly knows?
Generation after generation of nobleman and peasant alike had lived and died among these walls, but none thought to scrub clean the grime and filth of the sandstone construct, Fathers know what happened within these walls. Then again, considering the sheer quantity of squalor within this King's Landing, it would be natural that such miasmas would pollute and layer itself upon the Red Keep.
Pollution, a visible representation of the underlying rot of a people. It was nothing like his people's capital city of Boston, let alone his own city of Providence. The regular North Atlantic rains were irritating at times but served to refresh the atmosphere and to cleanse the townships. That and the Health Codes constantly enforced by the Judges keep cities from contracting so much as hay fever. He missed the scent of the Atlantic breeze, the pine boulevards of New England and the taste of yellowfin. As his head tilted to spot the top of the tower the King Aegon was leading them to, he had pondered. If they had the means to even 'build' such an impressive monument to power, would they not also have the means to clean it? Of course, it would be a costly and labouring task, but surely it was within a King's grasp?
He and his band entered the tower with the Kings band ahead of them. After a not so inconsiderable number of steps, they entered what appeared to be a modestly sized dining room. It was visibly apparent that it wasn't as lavishly furnished as other rooms within the Red Keep. The Great Hall by itself held dragon bones, hearkening to long lost glories, just like the centrepiece of the royal dynasty, the Iron Throne. The monstrous mountain of metal was all it was described by plenty a gregarious lord, merchant or scholar had presented. It spoke of conquest, intimidation and of warning. How much one was to listen to such echoes was up to the individual, without the great beasts who wrought the forging of such a throne into fruition, how much longer would its lords tolerate the Dragonlord.
The dining room was more spartan than even the hallways of the castle, the halls had displays of wealth and influence overall its constituent regions. He saw wolf pelts to deer skulls, driftwood mirrors to platinum framed paintings and amber headed sceptre to a fresh cornucopia, no doubt only for a show for today. In place of any Westerosi finery or trinkets, were the banners of the Targaryens, Greyjoys and a third houses banner, a black stag on a field of yellow. There was notably no 'banner' for America, which was fine enough for the Americans. The Stars and Stripes were the only forms of representation America would give itself to a foreign nation. Banners were used to represent a single house rather than a region, Adam could have let the Westerosi represent House Maxon, but he was to represent America, not just the President alone. The room had enough food and space to accommodate four dozen men, just enough for the King's party, then the Ironborn and then his own party.
After crossing the threshold, the group were greeted by an imposing, dark-haired stranger, a nobleman by the quality of his clothes. His beard was cut longer than the local Crownlanders, if just for his outstanding height alone, Adam would have assumed him to be a foreigner to the Crownlanders. Adam noticed a young man next to the noble. Looking like a shy boy, it seemed more because of the presence of the King rather than strangers of Adam and his men, that the boy acted as such. The King came close to the dark-haired noble, arms outstretched for seemingly a hug.
"Good Brother! I thank you for your timely and dutiful work. You have done splendidly to prepare a private feast for our guests." The King was giving the show of a family man at least. With how jolly he presented himself, all Aegon needed more was an additional hundred kilograms, a caribou drawn sleigh and he would be a picture-perfect Winters, Odin. Was it nepotism though, or did he offer marriage alliances to his stronger subjects? He called the man 'Good Brother', Adam had studied Old World English extensively, and the term 'Good Brother' could not ring any bells in his mind.
"Your Grace. Thank you, it is simply my duty. If you order me to walk, I may only ask, 'For how long a span?' Forgive me, but Steffon has been with me for his weekly lessons." The man's voice could rumble walls and drown light with its dark pitch.
"It is of no inconvenience at all, my grandnephew is a welcome sight!", the King said, ruffling the black-haired boys head of wild hair, who shrank under the attention he was given. The boy's seeming grandfather had turned his attention away from his King and directed it to Adam.
"You must be the new foreigners escorted by the Ironborn. I hope you find the hospitality of the King to be satisfactory. I am Lord Lyonel Baratheon, Lord of Storms End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and Hand to the King. This is my firstborns and heir's own son, my grandson Steffon Baratheon.", as the Hand finished, his grandson bowed his head. If he was being taught etiquette, it seems he caught on well. As Adam observed the grandfather and grandson closer, the resemblance became more apparent. There were the obvious similarities, their fair skin, raven black hair and navy-blue eyes. Strangely enough for the grandson of the well-groomed Lyonel, it seemed as if young Steffon had not yet had the beginnings of beard nor a moustache. With Lord Lyonel advanced height, Steffon might have been simply even younger than Adam initially estimated.
"Thank you for having us, Lord Baratheon. I am Colonel Adam McCormick of Rhode Island. My companions are Agent William, Agent Fergus, Agent Tabios and Agent Abel." His escorting Federal Agents nodded their heads in order at the mention of their names. Adam and his subordinates moved to shake the man's hand, his grip taught and strong, but seemingly politely restrained. He glanced at the agents; the men were in the personal employ of General Levi before being transferred under him for this mission. He didn't even know if any of the four possessed Stands, they certainly didn't react to his 「Off to Philadelphia」, but they could have also been extremely well trained in acting.
The four seemed to have been given as a packaged deal, all four having similarly obscured records. Or more likely their records were intentionally scrubbed by the Men in Black. Although such hearsay was more likely to be uttered by drunken seamen, very few offices held the power to censor men's records. There was the Men in Black, one of the Department's, the Ecumenical Council or the President. All rumours to be sure, but then again it was also rumoured that anyone that tried to reveal the truth from within was marked and arrested for treason. Regardless he was ordered to assess the new lands east, he wouldn't pry into matters above his pay grade, at least not yet. Why did General Levi even bother giving Adam their records if they gave him nothing to work with anyway?
"Your Grace, Colonel Adam, Lord Quellon, please, take your seats.", said the Stormlord. The impossibly tall noble gave a short bow in a practised but not so stiff fashion. The Colonel, the foreign sovereign and the two great lords made their way up and sat together at the high table. King Aegon at the centre, the Hand to his right and his guest of honour to his left, with the Ironborn lord to his further left. Adams four Agents sat beyond Lord Quellon still. He could also see that the robed, near skeletal, 'spy master', or whatever the Westerosi would call him, sat to the further right. Lastly, the impossibly tall and quite literal 'white knight' that shadowed the King, stood on guard behind both Adam and Aegon.
As all others made way for their seats, all eyes trained themselves on the King. When he gave the word the wenches and manservants came along, the wine started flowing and so too did the guest's appetites. The food looked to Adam to be delectable, eel pie, roast hog and wine of any kind were preferable to the expeditionary supplies. A man could only tolerate hardtack, dried beef and lime tonic for so long. Regardless Adam ate only modest portions, there were very few earthly pleasures he indulged in. He came to notice a distinct lack of certain dishes as well, there were no squash, no maize nor any variety of potatoes. There was also no turkey in sight, the largest bird he's seen prepared so far was a goose. He would have to note this for further investigation if the New Continents lacked certain crops or livestock, the trade of such lacking commodities would only be of benefit to America.
With the grip of wine, the men let their mouths flow like a river, with laughter and words. Thankfully, no one had the meagre constitution to let bile and dinner flow instead. It appears his hosting nobles wished to exchange knowledge of one another before anyone was 'too far in their cups', as the Westerosi say. Lord Quellon and Adam had plenty of time to play twenty questions during the transit to Kings Landing. The Greyjoy was scarfing down his food and drink as if it was the best he's had in weeks, which it well could have been. The one to begin the questioning was the King himself, with the Lord Hand deferred, which allowed the monarch free choice in questions.
"Colonel Adam, we Westerosi are unfamiliar with the exact nature of your title. With how confident you present yourself and how those under you give you such deference, it seemed to carry much weight. May I ask what a Colonel is exactly?"
"You wish to know what a Colonel is? A Colonel is a rank, a rank within the Constitutional Military of America. I believe the closest approximate Westerosi counterpart, is the Highlord under a Lord Paramount. In centuries past, our government was near equivalent to the feudal nobility your Westerosi Houses function upon. But during the tenure of President "Funny" Valentine Maxon, the local constitutions between citizen and noble took precedence. So it was that the Constitutional Military replaced the nobility across America."
"So, are you a noble or are you not? Or are you just the same as a commander to a Free City militia?", said the Hand, while nursing a glass of wine, eyed Adam up and down.
"I was born into 'Nobility' yes, my father wasn't. My father, Adam the Senior, was a mason by trade, whose military talent was so great as to receive favour from the President of his time. He received great accolades from his service during the Yukon Intervention, including the District of Rhode Island leadership. His rank during life was Brigadier General, a single rank higher than my own. If I wanted any heir of mine to inherit Rhode Island, I would need to earn a similar or higher rank than my own father. If not any children by my blood stand to lose Rhode Island, left only to rule only one city."
"Your nobles are expected to excel at warfare if they wanted their full inheritance? On what right did your President have to strip his nobles of their birthright?", said Lord Lyonel, now with a dubious expression. But Adam in turn responded with absolute conviction.
"President "Funny" Valentine Maxon had every right. He was a Warrior-Philosopher, a Patriot, an Architect and a wise ruler. He ruled for a near-century, his descendants said to have his 'Immortal' blood. In a true embodiment of the 「American Dream」, on July 4th, 2776, he restored the United States of America. Such a man had every privilege to reshape the continent to his ideals. If his ideal vision of the nobility was that one had to prove their merit regardless of their blood, then what place does the nobility who were initially appointed by the Maxons to question him."
"Thank you Lord Ormund for the engaging questions and thank you Colonel for your. . . impassioned answers.", said Aegon, raising a placating hand in between the Lord Paramount and Colonel. The long-nailed hand of the 'spy master' raised, attracting the attention of both King and Adam.
"If I may ask, what exactly is America? Is it a City State? A kingdom? Or are there multiple kingdoms under one crown? Furthermore, what is the seat of the President to America then?", the voice of the man was high pitched and squeaky, it reminded him more of the oinking of pigs and it utterly befuddled Adam it came from an unhealthily thin man.
"The Second Republic of the United States of America is as the official name suggests. It is the second republic; the first republic was defunct almost a millennia ago. It is a collective of eighty States or 'kingdoms' under a single federal government, which itself is divided into twenty-one departments all beholden to the President. The President of America is elected, rather than inherited. In theory, any person eligible could run for such a position, the criteria being that one must be thirty-five years old or older, a natural-born citizen of America and that they succeed in a preliminary vote. In recent centuries, an unspoken and unwritten rule has been that a candidate is a descendant of a Maxon, whether directly or indirectly."
The feast had been slowly died down, with Adams voice carrying his explanations through the room. With the lull in eating the servants began cleaning up before the guests. The King, wanting to ask one thing more before excusing all attending to retire, prodded Adam once more.
"For what reason, and under who's prerogative, are you here Colonel Adam?"
"I was sent here as a diplomatic envoy and explorer on the orders of President Caesar Valentine Maxon. I had served as an aide to his predecessor and aunt, Madam President Dion Valentine Maxon. After she passed away, I entered the service of the Department of State. My direct superior is the Secretary of State, General Levi Gutfreund. If I am to successfully contact a civilized nation who shares a body of water with America, I am to return after reaching a rapport." Adam could see the 'spy master' and Hand spared a glance at their liege, but the King himself had kept his gaze toward Adam. For a tense, terse few seconds, Aegon's eyes hardened, before settling once again. He nodded to the Colonel.
"Aside from certain matters better suited to a Maester, such as our mutual language and geography, my curiosity about your party has been sated. Have we reached a rapport? Please stay a night or two for us to truly see if we did."
"Yes, I wouldn't refuse such an offer!", he said with a wooden smile.
Seeing as he couldn't refuse a foreign ruler, he didn't exactly have diplomatic immunity with, Adam agreed. With a shaking of hands, and a manservant to lead them, his party was led off to rest for the night.
Stand Name: 「Off to Philadelphia」
Stand User: Adam McCormick
Ability: Hindsight
Description: Users of this power can always know how something could not have happened after it already happened.
Condition: Head
Limit: [Sensory Processing Disorder]
Range: 5km
Power: E
Speed: A
Range: A
Durability: C
Precision: A
Potential: E
A/N: Guest1: neat.
Guest2/Mimi: Thank you for reading. I can't wait to write the rest of it.
daggercloak000: I agree, more people need to write on Crusader Kings. I'll do my best to keep writing.
Junior VB: Thank you.
It has been so long since I last updated any of my stories, that I thank you if you have been waiting for this long. I've been busy with my study since the start of the new semester and I have a lot I would want to do besides writing and work. I have many shows, films, books and manga on the back burner until deadlines are dealt with.
I know I only listed ASoIaF and CK2 on this fan fiction, but the After The End fanon has so many other franchises crossed over with it, that it seems more appropriate to note them when they are referenced and/or appear in each chapter. To give you an idea of what else can be found in the After the End universe, there's A Canticle for Leibowitz, Batman, Disney, Fallout, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, Scooby-Doo, Always Sunny in Philadelphia, American Football and so much more.
A franchise that has been crossed over into this story, starting at this chapter, is JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. This was a decision not taken lightly and was partly because my previous draft of this chapter was set after a short time skip, and I realized I could have developed so much more in between. One thing to consider was if Stands could lend themselves well to heroes' journeys rather than stories about political intrigue. I decided on a possible solution to have Stands distinguish themselves in different plot threads rather than have a Stand User just kill a non-Stand User each time.
Where are the Joestars in this world? Well, neither they nor any of their descendants will be POV characters at least. Johnny Joestar existed in this world, but his descendants live in post-post-apocalypse Japan and where the Japanese colonize. There also existed an incarnation of Dio Brando and Jonathan Joestar in 2550's Britain, but they and all their famous descendants are long dead in 3053 and are on the opposite end of Eurasia. They won't be seen in the Americas.
Thanks a million for reading. If you enjoyed it, please fav or follow or leave a review of what you think.