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Once Upon a Time in Esquarium [DEAD]

Where nations come together and discuss matters of varying degrees of importance. [In character]

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Katranjiev
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Posts: 420
Founded: Mar 08, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Katranjiev » Tue Mar 11, 2014 6:06 am

Dukhut i Molodes | A magazine for the youth of our time
Why Liberationism failed in Katranjiev


It was only a quarter of a century ago did Liberationism's death knell begin in Katranjiev. The regime which was begrudgingly supported by Katranjians and enthusiastically by the Namorese minority to the eastern part of the country had lasted for nearly four decades prior to it collapsing. It stuck with Revolutionary Liberationism, and it refused to reform until it was too late. Under Huankun Chen, he kept the regime under tight personal control after rigging the 1951 elections and suppressing the electoral commission, only ending the monarchy when the Supreme Court began investigating. In under several months, he went from being the first Namorese Prime Minister of Katranjiev to the first President of a puppet state.
Image
Huankun Chen's official portrait in 1951

With the support of Namor, Huankun Chen began his plan to impose Liberationism. Whatever Yunglang Antelope did, Huankun did similar, such as the Green Fever with the 26th of July Movement, joining the UER and nationalizing the electricity and water grids, but after his death, the two countries went two different paths which increasingly diverged. While Namor democratized under Gretel Antelope, Katranjiev stuck with revolutionary Liberationism until Huankun's death in 1984 at the age of 82. But after his death, the government ceased functioning and was bitterly divided between Huankun Chen's second wife, Nuoju Zeng who wanted to continue his legacy while Baikun Qing wanted to reform in a similar fashion to Namor.

By the time he won in 1986, these 'elections' were not like other elections in the PRK with only one candidate for each position. They were two party, with the choices being Zeng's faction or Qing's faction, a sign of things to come. Qing won and he began starting to reform his country along the same lines of Minjuha. In 1987, Zeng's faction was purged, and many were sentenced to prison terms while Zeng herself was put under house arrest. Yet, the damage had been done and many cities decided to declare themselves free cities that will not listen to the Liberationists in Krasimir. If it was supposed to be a dictatorship until the time is "ripe for democracy," it is certain that it was over-ripe. Certainly, the article of Namorese is true on the reasons why we failed. However, they tend to wrongly think that they we are a "client state" of Luziyca.

While their soldiers are stationed within our borders and the zalot is pegged to the lira at par, they neglect to mention that communism and even Liberationism are still legal here. We have a welfare state which dates back to the 1940s, our education is superior to that of Luziyca, with elements of Montessori thinking in our schools. Many of us are also suspicious of Luziyca's intentions in the region, although deep cultural ties result in close ties, but not as close as Namor likes to think. For one, we oppose the Knights of Saint Luther, although we allow the OIM to operate here provided they do not commit any atrocities here. Another is that there is no barrier, you just need a passport and a visa to enter Katranjiev at any of our numerous border crossings.

However, before we wrap this up, we need to debunk the misconception that Baikun Qing didn't lift up a finger and allowed them to take over the country. They forget that he attempted to suppress the riots and even tried calling the Liberation Army into Katranjiev, but Namor refused to support the regime because it was too corrupt. Without the support of Namor, the country effectively lost support and collapsed under the pressure.

Nowadays, Liberationism is dead, both in Namor, despite what the Luzzies say, and here. If Huankun Chen rose up from the grave that we exhumed him in 1990 and read some newspapers, he would've concluded that a regime change had took place recently, and he'd be right, with the advertising, the increased freedom of speech, and the fact that Apostol XV is on the throne. Now that it has died, the sooner we can bury the pretense that Namor follows Liberationism, the better, since Minjuha eroded Liberationism, and while they follow a reformed version of it on paper, it is closer to state capitalism. Only the symbols there remain the same.

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The Jahistic Unified Republic
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Posts: 14096
Founded: Feb 28, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby The Jahistic Unified Republic » Fri Mar 14, 2014 7:38 pm

Jahistic People's Revolutionary Court Decision on Capital Punishment:

March 15th, 2014:


IT IS THE DECISION of this Court, trusted with the flag of the Eternal Revolution and the Trust of the People, that Capital Punishment (or the Death Penalty) shall be rendered legal on the Jahistic Federal Level and in the Direct Administrative City of Unolia. We see, in a unanimous decision, that Capital Punishment does not violate the Revolutionary Constitution of the Jahistic Republic of Unolia nor does it cause any cruel and unusual punishment if administer ethically.

The following is the list of acceptable methods which a death sentence should be carried out:

Firing Squad

Long Drop Hanging

Lethal Injection

Gas Chamber

Single Shot in a Vital Area

Electrocution


The following is a list of crimes which a sentence of death may be called for. It should be noted that it is up for the discretion of the Judge and Jury whether or not capital punishment may be called for. Under no circumstance should a sentence of death be administered outside of these crimes:

Espionage

Rape with attempted or completed murder

Thievery with attempted or completed murder

Imprisonment and Torture under abnormal circumstances

Premeditated murder

Aiding the enemy in time of war

Attempted murder while on parole

Sabotaging the affairs of the nation

Serial rape

Serial murder

Crimes against humanity

Terrorism

Crimes against peace

Inciting a riot that results in mass intentional death

Thievery in a State of Emergency

Treason (when holding High Office)

<Koyro> (Democratic Koyro) NSG senate is a glaring example of why no one in NSG should ever have a position of authority
The Emerald Dawn wrote:"Considering Officer Krupke was patently idiotic to charge these young men in the first place, we're dropping the charges in the interest of not wasting any more of the Judiciary's time with farcical charges brought by officers who require more training on basic legal principles."

Baseball is Best Sport. Life long StL Fan.

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Semarland
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Posts: 792
Founded: Mar 01, 2014
Civil Rights Lovefest

Semarlandic Football League - Scores

Postby Semarland » Sat Mar 15, 2014 9:46 am

Yesterday the Premier League resumed after the winter break.
Here are the scores.

ADJURGEN 2 0 YEYJKYAVIK
Mkhsenyan 42, Palos 89

ÆRLO SPORT 2 1 PANSBERG
Hreidrik 52, Dansjord 90+3 - Roleks 12

EIKBORG CLUB 5 0 MOLSBIK KADET
Kolaars 6, Senter 18, 29, 52, Lunensen 85

FC JANSBERG 3 3 MOLSBIK ARKJET
Rommedahl 18, Iys 25, Lygaard 72 - Paizoreqxte 21, Brynec 52, 86

FC KOLBERG 1 3 KRSTHAVEN
Larsen 62 - Treto 14, Praindaars 50, Tomyn Kayansa 83

FC MATØVALLANEN 4 1 FRANSBORG SET NJILKAER
Brent 3, Kaspersson 40, 51, Halck 72 - Linazasoro 11

Current Table
1. FC Jansberg
2. Krsthaven
3. Molsbik Arkjet
4. FC Matovallanen
5. Aerlo Sport
6. FC Kolberg
7. Fransborg set Njilkaer
8. Eikborg Club
9. Adjurgen
10. Yeyjkyavik
11. Molsbik Kadet
12. Pansberg

Player of the Week: TOMYN KAYANSA
Krsthaven's Iglesian Centre-Back Tomyn Kayansa had a superb performance against FC Kolberg. His solid defending, wonderful passing and outstanding goal earned him this week's accolade.
The Republic of Semarland
Capital: Jansberg - Demonym: Semar/Semarlandic - Trigramme: SEM
sportsat.sem
Hosted: Trindl Cup I/II, Baptism of Fire 68
Champions: Meski Cup I, 5AS WC II, U18 WC I
<Nephara> RETURN OF Sem|Transfers THE PEOPLES' CHAMPION
<Jeck> If Sem RPs as much as he transfers, next cycle we're all screwed
<Yttribia> Sem seems like the sort of guy who'd work at Tesco's and slide his mixtape in each bag

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Semarland
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Posts: 792
Founded: Mar 01, 2014
Civil Rights Lovefest

Semarland v Dutch Semarland football friendly

Postby Semarland » Sat Mar 15, 2014 11:35 am

On the 21st March 2014, Semarland will play Dutch Semarland in a friendly.
The squads are as follows.
SEMARLAND

Number Position Name DoB (Age) Caps Goals Club
1 GK Jorgen Karlstad June 22, 1985 (age 28) 52 0 FC Kolberg
2 DF Eirik Malsen April 4, 1984 (age 29) 63 1 Molsbik Arkjet
3 DF Matur Eiriksson May 5, 1994 (age 19) 28 4 FC Jansberg
4 DF Daniel Christian Heidmarlik July 25, 1980 (age 33) 73 1 Eikborg Club
5 DF Andy Heinrikhsen January 25, 1983 (age 31) 80 12 Yeyjkyavik
6 DF Matthias Karbruck January 3, 1986 (age 28) 21 0 Krsthaven
7 FW Otto Kalsabur May 10, 1991 (age 22) 3 1 Krsthaven
8 MF Steve Richaard Matsen May 2, 1982 (age 31) 40 5 Adjurgen
9 FW Martin Kristiansen July 22, 1983 (age 30) 83 26 Ærlo Sport
10 FW Marc Lygaard February 23, 1985 (age 29) 130 79 FC Jansberg
11 MF Olle Pranich January 4, 1993 (age 21) 8 3 Krsthaven
12 GK Martin Datheim December 22, 1976 (age 37) 103 0 Krsthaven
13 MF Braanko Jaanssen March 22, 1995 (age 18) 5 0 Molsbik Kadet
14 MF Kasper Blonqaard October 22, 1978 (age 35) 92 6 FC Matøvallanen
15 MF Marko Halck November 22, 1979 (age 34) 95 8 FC Matøvallanen
16 MF Andreas Jansen April 22, 1975 (age 38) 112 18 FC Kolberg
17 FW Lars Carlsberg June 1, 1985 (age 28) 72 30 Pansberg
18 FW Simon Marcssen October 21, 1986 (age 27) 60 23 FC Jansberg
19 FW Jakob Larsen February 16, 1988 (age 26) 71 36 FC Kolberg
20 FW Janko Datheim April 25, 1986 (age 27) 83 39 Fransborg set Njilkaer
21 DF Per Olsen September 14, 1985 (age 28) 52 3 Ærlo Sport
22 GK Markus Hansen January 3, 1992 (age 22) 8 0 Adjurgen
23 DF Nicolas Janzaard May 16, 1993 (age 20) 8 1 Pansberg
DUTCH SEMARLAND
1 GK Klaudio Hechtner March 12, 1986 (age 28) 31 0 Semarland FC Jansberg
12 GK Enrique Selies August 10, 1982 (age 31) 14 0 Semarland FC Kolberg
23 GK Keynes Hellas March 3, 1992 (age 21) 2 0 Semarland Fransborg set Njilkaer
2 DF Patryk van Brozelaar January 3, 1984 (age 30) 26 1 Semarland Eikborg Club
3 DF Jaakob Klooizens April 5, 1985 (age 28) 14 2 Semarland FC Jansberg
4 DF Pieter Moncur September 2, 1990 (age 23) 1 0 Semarland FC Kolberg
5 DF Slatur Seldsen December 6, 1983 (age 30) 38 1 Semarland FC Jansberg
6 DF Cesar Lulio July 6, 1991 (age 22) 5 1 Semarland FC Matøvallanen
13 DF Rafael Centre December 2, 1986 (age 27) 18 3 Semarland Molsbik Arkjet
15 DF Shelton Kelech February 4, 1993 (age 21) 9 1 Semarland Molsbik Kadet
17 DF Giovannis Ceriazokopalinos January 9, 1983 (age 31) 48 2 Semarland Molsbik Kadet
7 MF Fairzhal Rokbelt December 12, 1984 (age 29) 37 5 Semarland Pansberg
8 MF Telur Heirik March 12, 1975 (age 39) 60 1 Semarland FC Kolberg
11 MF Lucillio de la Franquera December 7, 1993 (age 20) 15 3 Semarland FC Matøvallanen
14 MF Keret Pieke February 1, 1988 (age 25) 20 2 Semarland Krsthaven
16 MF Diego Pierris October 1, 1986 (age 27) 20 3 Semarland Molsbik Kadet
9 FW Kaste Roleks February 8, 1990 (age 23) 35 14 Semarland Pansberg
10 FW Aurelio Cerechte December 11, 1988 (age 25) 37 10 Semarland Yeyjkyavik
18 FW Piero Senter May 12, 1994 (age 19) 10 4 Semarland Eikborg Club
19 FW Keldon Sheller February 3, 1984 (age 30) 39 17 Semarland Fransborg set Njilkaer
20 FW Delio Keltzer December 12, 1995 (age 18) 9 3 Semarland Fransborg set Njilkaer
21 FW Kelex Praindaars October 3, 1992 (age 21) 27 18 Semarland Krsthaven
22 FW Helio Vrentschkar March 2, 1987 (age 27) 28 12 Semarland Yeyjkyavik
The Republic of Semarland
Capital: Jansberg - Demonym: Semar/Semarlandic - Trigramme: SEM
sportsat.sem
Hosted: Trindl Cup I/II, Baptism of Fire 68
Champions: Meski Cup I, 5AS WC II, U18 WC I
<Nephara> RETURN OF Sem|Transfers THE PEOPLES' CHAMPION
<Jeck> If Sem RPs as much as he transfers, next cycle we're all screwed
<Yttribia> Sem seems like the sort of guy who'd work at Tesco's and slide his mixtape in each bag

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The Jahistic Unified Republic
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 14096
Founded: Feb 28, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby The Jahistic Unified Republic » Sat Mar 15, 2014 2:41 pm

To Fill the Shoes, Chapter 1

(OOC: It should be noted that stuff in italics should be considered leaning/breaking the fourth wall, as if the main character is talking to you, a la Francis Urquhart/Frank Underwood in both of the House of Cards Series. Otherwise, narration is third person)

The Assembly of the People
Jacob Conners, a forty-nine year old Jahistic Assemblyman from New Ukruda had actually fought alongside Jarrod Thuman himself in the Unolian Civil War. He was one of 199 Assemblymen and women from the JPU that survived the "Great Purge" in the 2014 elections, mainly because of his orthodoxy to the Party Line. He was the strange mixture of pragmatism and Jahistic ideology that nobody could understand. He survived a literal purge from Thuman himself four years earlier because of his wit and full devotion to the Jahistic Party cause. He was almost purged for having dinner with a mister Shawn Hitlay, who fell out of line for a while.

The date is March 8th, 2014, in the hallowed halls of the Assembly. The Assembly was divided down the middle into two halves. There was the half belonging to the Republican, supposedly neutral, Government of the Jahistic Republic of Unolia. The epicenter of this was Smith's workplace, the Assembly of the People's eponymous chamber. The right, in contrast, belonged to the Jahistic Party itself, serving as it's headquarters. The opposite of the Assembly's chamber to the right was the Jahistic National Committee, which was the de facto upper house of Unolia, having a choke hold on foreign policy and military.

The Jahistic Party retained their power in a minority government after the people lost their trust of the Party. The Jahistic Youth Corps' numbers were falling, fast. Before the election, Conners was favored by The Firebrand to make the Cabinet, as Foreign Affairs Minister...

"Premier Tugstein!" Conners walked into the office of the Premier, "I received your email, to what do I owe this honor, Madame Premier?"

"Mr. Connors, please, please sit down."

"I hope I'm not intruding, I was around two minutes early, but I do have plans to see a show tonight."

"Which show?" Tugstein was flipping through some papers, refusing to make eye contact."

"Our Revolution Alive. It's playing at the People's Artist House tonight, I figured that I go see it. It's a brilliantly put on show."

"Ah, I see. That's actually why you're here right now. You ran a brilliant campaign, Mr. Connors--"

"Won with 79% of the vote and put the Greens to shame, Ma'am."

"Yes, yes you did, and we're grateful. You ran a campaign on Jahistic Orthodoxy, though."

"'Though'?" Connors was dumbfounded. Was holding the Party line treasonous now? She said it with such a tone that it was like it was a disgrace to her. Connors began to tense up.

"Well, you see, we need to keep the supply flowing through the Democratic Party. They hate the idea of Jarrod Thuman Thought and they've personally named you as a person to keep away from..."

"I see."

"Yes, yes. I believe that in order to keep the supply from the Democratic Party, we need to have someone more... liked--"

"You mean moderate," Connors interrupted immediately in disgust. He couldn't believe what he's hearing, the Assembly Leader of the Jahistic Party was openly disavowing Jarrod Thuman Thought in front of his eyes, and from the way it sounded, it cost him his ministry position, "you do know I cannot have this, right?"

"Whether or not you can take it, we are giving the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Party Relations to Lee Sen. I am sorry if this comes as an unpleasant surprise, but your campaign alienated the other parties from us. We hope you can understand and align more towards the middle."

Connors played calm. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you." He got up to leave.

I fought for an idea and I'll be damned if that harpy will have it slaughtered on my watch. I put my fucking neck out there and now she plans on ending it. Just because Thuman is dead doesn't mean the ideas we fought for are. I don't care if I'm thirty-one or forty-nine, my dream will not be cast as a sin offering to politics. I'll be sure to have a nice talk with the General Secretary next week about that traitorous whore.

March 14th, 2014

It was a hard day for the Party in the Assembly. Their legitimacy had been openly questioned by the Social Democratic Party on the floor of the Assembly. When Tugstein countered with a resolution on confidence in the JPU, that also failed. They would be forced to take their case to the people in a direct election. It was also that day that Connors had a meeting with the General Secretary of the whole Jahistic Party, Weng Duhan. This was only two months after the Great Leader and Chairman of the Jahistic Party had died and the JPU was already backsliding.

Yes, they are backsliding. Backsliding into revisionism. This is really no different than having your father die in a drunk driving accident and then going out drinking after the wake. Utter hypocrisy. My job is to make hypocrisy hurt.

Immediately after the session adjourned, Connors went up to talk with Weng, who was running a campaign for the Presidency of the Jahistic Republic.

"General Secretary?" Immediately as Connors walked in, he saw two figures sitting down talking. This couldn't possibly be good for him.

"Come in! The Premier and I were just talking about you, Mr. Connors. Please, take a load off." Weng put some papers away. He was seated below pictures of Vladimir Lenin, Jarrod Thuman and Murray Rothbard, in that curious order.

I find it highly negligible that the Premier isn't campaigning hard to make sure the Jahistic Party has a place in the future. Instead she wants to discipline the back-bencher who clings to the core values that the Revolution was led by and the Party was founded from. If we lose this referendum, I'll be sure to point to this moment in time.

"Premier Tugstein told me about your situation, Mr. Connors. I just wanted to clarify that most of the Party's Standing Committee is backing us on this modernization. I suggest you do. We're under attack, Jacob, and in order to keep the Party's consent by the People, we need to show we're not tin pot crazy."

"We WON on the Jahistic ideology. If you care naught for our ideology, we should just become any other Capitalist or Libertarian Party and resign our vanguard status, sir," Henry replied.

"We can slowly regain the trust of the people but we need to throw them a bone and lay off the extremes," Tugstein interjected.

"You're right. I am really sorry for questioning the Party's judgement."

"Loyalty like that will get you places, Jake. Thank you for your time, Premier."

"General Secretary?"

"Yes, Mr. Connors?"

"What do you intend on doing with the three vacant seats in the Standing Committee? They're just sitting there."

"Don't even think of running. We can't afford to have a by election in your district. It would kill us."

Yes, it would make us that much worse off if we were to lose the seat that has been solidly Jahistic for all of the Party's existence. I won by upwards of three quarters of the vote. Even if they ran a moderate candidate, we'd still win. I may take the Premier's advise, for now. The way Jahistic Party Elections are ran is new and foreign. The first election to the Standing Committee will be on April 1st, with all the amendment voting and the Presidency on the line, it wouldn't be amazing to run. But I know people who could do it for me... and win.

<Koyro> (Democratic Koyro) NSG senate is a glaring example of why no one in NSG should ever have a position of authority
The Emerald Dawn wrote:"Considering Officer Krupke was patently idiotic to charge these young men in the first place, we're dropping the charges in the interest of not wasting any more of the Judiciary's time with farcical charges brought by officers who require more training on basic legal principles."

Baseball is Best Sport. Life long StL Fan.

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Semarland
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Posts: 792
Founded: Mar 01, 2014
Civil Rights Lovefest

Semarluundik Futbaaloskakup - Semi Finals

Postby Semarland » Tue Mar 18, 2014 1:04 pm

Yesterday saw the semi-finals of the Semarluundik Futbaaloskakup, Semarland's FA Cup.
The two games were league-leaders FC Jansberg against second place Krsthaven and Molsbik Arkjet against Fransborg set Njilkaer.
16 teams started (Top 4 of the 2nd Division and the 1st division)
Previous Games:
Round of 16
FC Jansberg 4 0 Nekerheim
Krsthaven 2 0 Adjurgen
Molsbik Arkjet 1 0 Vastervrucken
Bjelberg 0 3 Sansberg
Ærlo Sport 1 1 Yeyjkyavik (Yeyjkyavik 4-2 on Penalties)
Eikborg Club 2 0 Pansberg
Molsbik Kadet 0 2 FC Kolberg
FC Matøvallanen 1 2 Fransborg set Njilkaer
Quarter Finals
FC Jansberg 3 2 Sansberg
Krsthaven 2 1 Yeyjkyavik
Molsbik Arkjet 2 1 Eikborg Club
Fransborg set Njilkaer 2 1 FC Kolberg

Semi Finals
FC Jansberg 1 2 Krsthaven
Rommedahl 35 - Oiharzabal 21, Praindaars 74
In a intriguing game, goals from Ghantish winger Lars Oiharzabal and Dutch Semar striker Kelex Praindaars sealed 2nd place Krsthaven a place in the final. Although Geadish winger Martin Rommedahl equalised, Kelex Praindaars' winner after poor defending from Jansberg's centre-backs, young defender Mark Eikrem and the Legendardian Luuk Seilaar, (on his 125th game for the club), winger Thomas Lorensson managed to square the ball to Praindaars who slotted home. However, many Jansberg fans thought they could've won if Captain and Star player Marc Lygaard was playing.
Teams:
FC Jansberg:
GK - Klaudio Hechtner (Dutch Semarland)
DF - Matur Eirikksson (Semarland), Mark Eikrem (Semarland), Luuk Seilaar (Legendardisch), Daniel Bendtner (Semarland)
MF - Martin Rommedahl (Geadland), Christo Ixeto (Ghant), Markys Iys (Vyvland), Stephen Martin Jorgensen (Semarland)
FW - Simon Marcssen (Semarland), Petur Breiksson (Semarland)
Subs: Christian Helvensson (New Silbodale), (Bendtner 75)
Heidur Malekssen (Vjaarland), (Iys 75)
Andreas Bekken (Semarland), (Breiksson 82)
Krsthaven:
GK - Martin Datheim (Semarland)
DF - Patrik Boltensen (Crolacia), Aryn Koyansa (Iglesiantis), Tomyn Kayansa (Iglesiantis), Niko Peildaars (Dutch Semarland)
MF - Olle Pranich (Semarland), Keret Peike (Dutch Semarland), Lars Oiharzabal (Ghant), Thomas Lorensson (Geadland)
FW - Otto Kalsabur (Semarland), Steve Fjyoord (Semarland)
Subs: Christian Rommedahl (Geadland) (Olle Pranich 63)
Kelex Praindaars (Dutch Semarland) (Otto Kalsabur 63)
Natanel Kors (Steve Fjyoord 82)

Molsbik Arkjet 4 4 Fransborg set Njilkaer
Arkjet win 5-3 on penalties
Jensson 15, 22 Reizel 87, Litneren 90+2 - Keltzer 9, Sheller 24, Lunds 55, Toierlsen 84
A stunning game, widely regarded as the best Semarluundik Futbaaloskakup match ever, went to penalties after Nevan forward Jari Litneren, a late substitute, scored a late equaliser after Maro Retan's corner was punched away by Markus Adrensen only for Litneren to volley home. The goals started as Delio Keltzer, who is bound to leave in the April transfer window, squared the ball home after a cross by Aitor Linazasoro. Molsbik Arkjet's Lyonese striker Marko Jensson went on to score two, but Keldon Sheller equalised for Fransborg set Njilkaer. More and more chances continued until half time, when Fransborg's keeper, Keynes Hellas, was replace due to a wrist injury by Markus Adrensen. Fransborg defender Jakob Lunds headed home on 55 minutes, befor Iyinko Toierlsen of Vyvland looked to seal it off with a stunning volley. There was hope for Arkjet, when Gillenorian Fernando Reizel scored, and there was hope after all when subsitute Litneren equalised.

In extra time, still there were chanches, with Arkiasin Jack Brynec narrowly missing and New Silbodalian centre-back Kristofer Petursson's header going over the bar for Arkjet, and Simo Baatenheik's free kick being superbly saved by Niko Bansen and Janko Datheim, who had a chance to win in the last moments of extra time hit the post.

It then went to penalties, as follows;

Jans Burelsson (Arkjet) scored
Simo Baatenheik (Fransborg) scored
Colin Harris (Arkjet) scored
Delio Keltzer (Fransborg) scored
Fernando Reizel (Arkjet) scored
Aitor Linazasoro (Fransborg) scored
Jari Litneren (Arkjet) scored
Kolsant Zdravczy (Fransborg) saved
Marko Jensson (Arkjet) scored, Arkjet win 5-3 on penalties

Teams:
Molsbik Arkjet:
GK - Niko Bansen (Semarland)
DF - Jan Helzeck (Legendardisch), Colin Harris (Ainin), Kristofer Petursson (New Silbodale), Maro Retan (Braetia)
MF - Luke Bower (Britanno), Jans Burelsson (Vjaarland), Patrik Kroikters (Vyvland), Fernando Reizel (Gillenor)
FW - Marc Hadberg (Semarland), Marko Jensson (Lyonsland)
Subs: Jack Brynec (Arkiasis) (Marc Hadberg HT)
Niko Helsson (Crolacia) (Patrik Kroikters 62)
Jari Litneren (Nevanmaa) (Luke Bower 87)
Fransborg set Njilkaer
GK - Keynes Hellas (Dutch Semarland)
DF - Darius Schoels (Vyvland), Jakob Lunds (Semarland), Kolsant Zdravczy (Dutch Semarland), Makio Halse (Semarland)
MF - Chresnur Balatksson (Semarland), Simo Baatenheik (Semarland), Antonio Christensen (Semarland), Aitor Linazasoro (Ghant)
FW - Delio Keltzer (Dutch Semarland), Keldon Sheller (Dutch Semarland)
Subs: Iyinko Toierlsen (Vyvland) (Chresnur Balatksson HT)
Markus Adrensen (Semarland) (Keynes Hellas HT)
Janko Datheim (Keldon Sheller 117)
The Republic of Semarland
Capital: Jansberg - Demonym: Semar/Semarlandic - Trigramme: SEM
sportsat.sem
Hosted: Trindl Cup I/II, Baptism of Fire 68
Champions: Meski Cup I, 5AS WC II, U18 WC I
<Nephara> RETURN OF Sem|Transfers THE PEOPLES' CHAMPION
<Jeck> If Sem RPs as much as he transfers, next cycle we're all screwed
<Yttribia> Sem seems like the sort of guy who'd work at Tesco's and slide his mixtape in each bag

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Michillies
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 455
Founded: Oct 03, 2013
Ex-Nation

Hymn of the Republic - National Anthem of Michillies

Postby Michillies » Thu Mar 20, 2014 11:08 am

-retconned-
Last edited by Michillies on Wed May 11, 2016 7:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sereníssima Reppública Hesperiana

Accept no substitutes!

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Everia
Envoy
 
Posts: 334
Founded: May 07, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Everia » Thu Mar 20, 2014 7:10 pm

Residence of Iliria Vissari, Reutern, Everia


Fredrick Ulrich (who is the spitting image of Vladimir Putin), a sixty-one year old former conservative statesmen, now Chief Party Whip of the ENEVP, knew the value of loyalty and discipline. His discipline was earned by his service with the Armed Forces during the years of the Republican Commonwealth, and his loyalty during his time in the ENEVP. Although, truthfully it was a false loyalty that he conjured up to preserve his political career during the National Movement in the 1990s. This "loyalty" combined with his Patriotic Conservatism allowed him to move up the ranks from a lowly and insignificant party member all the way up to the Chief Party Whip.

A day after the death of the Autarch, Fredrick made his way by plane and car to the unofficial, and relatively unknown, residence of Iliria Vissari, who was to succeed her father as the next ruler of the country. Located ten miles outside of the city Reutern, the mansion was constructed to be away from the eyes and ears of the common folk. It's architecture was of a Gothic nature and surrounded by forest. Fredrick's car made its way up the long road to the mansion and parked itself on the driveway. He got out and signaled to his driver to wait in the car and walked up the the large entrance door, rung the doorbell, and waited. After about a minute of waiting, the door opened and there stood Iliria Vissari, the "Great" and "Wonderful" as State propaganda liked to call her.

(OOC: I plan on adding a picture of what Iliria looks like in the future.)

Iliria let Fredrick in with a small smile and quietly closed the door, as if thinking someone would overhear them. She then lead him towards the living room, where two single-seat chairs flanked a fireplace with a small table in between. There were two, large windows that were to the left of the fireplace, but these were closed with black curtains, leaving only the fireplace to illuminate the room. The two each took a seat in the chairs that were before the fireplace.

"So," Begin Iliria. "I take it that you've finished it."

"That is why I am here."

"I see," Iliria says, letting out a sigh. "I had know this would have been difficult, but not like this. It's not everyday that you plot to assassinate your father, not matter how cruel he may be."

Fredrick started for a moment before speaking up. "I know this was hard for you, but it is for the greater good of the country."

Their actions were, according to the current laws, the highest form of treason one could have committed. Fredrick started into the fire with a blank expression one his face, but contemplating and thinking of the next phase of the plan. Iliria, however, was fidgeting slightly in her chairs as she tried to come to terms with her actions. The uncomfortable silence that had overtaken the room was interrupted when Fredrick spoke up again.

"Now that you're the new leader, perhaps you could instituted some changes. After all, who would dare to question the actions of the daughter of the Great Leader?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean for you to charge. Usher in a new era for society and the country."

"And how do you propose I do that?"

Fredrick took a moment to think this over. What would be a sure way to maintain the current rule, but rid the xenophobia and harshness? An idea struck him almost instantaneously. A radical idea, but one that could work.

"You can declare an Imperial Monarchy. Yes, and we can still keep our system relatively intact."

Iliria looked and Fredrick with shock on her face. She stuttered a bit before recovering herself and speaking again.

"Declare a monarchy?! Have you gone insane? There's no possible way we can get that through."

"Yes we can." Responded Fredrick, with a stern expression and pointed finger at her. "Then you'll place the military in charge of the government and call for a constitutional convention. Both of our necks are on the line now. So, if we want to keep living, then we need to keep things moving."

Iliria backs down and sighs audibly. Fully aware that she has no other alternative then to go along with Fredrick, she accepts Fredrick's demands. Fredrick simply leaves the room and mansion to head for his car. He gets into his car and they pull away from the mansion and continue their trip back to the capital.
Last edited by Everia on Thu Mar 20, 2014 9:53 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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The Jahistic Unified Republic
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Posts: 14096
Founded: Feb 28, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby The Jahistic Unified Republic » Fri Mar 21, 2014 8:02 am

To Fill the Shoes Part 2.1

"And I say that the problem of your so-called 'Namorese and Luziycan Imperialism' is not the issue for the Assembly to tackle now," shouts a Green Assemblywoman from the very back of the Assembly of the People. She was yelling, of course, at the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Lee Sen. The argument was whether or not to support semi-Roubaonese independence.

The Government was torn about it. In public, they supported a "self-governing territory" option, but there was constant bickering between the Jahistics and the other members of the coalition. They needed to ensure their supply agreement with the Democratic Party, and violently retaking Roubao would not bode well.

"JACOB CONNORS!" the Speaker shouted from the dais.

I love large, anarchic conversations about government policy in a loud, even more anarchic chamber such as this.

"My question is to the Government, Mr. Speaker. My question to the Premier is how can she forget the fact that the citizens of the Jahistic Republic of Roubao..."

Cheers erupt from the farthest right for a second before the Speaker calls for decorum...

"The citizens of the Jahistic Republic of Roubao are, in fact, native Unolians? Even in the Old Monarchic Society, we had control over Roubao. I wish you could act like how Chairman Hitlay and the Great Chairman Thuman would've acted and try one more jolly good shot in retaking them. Why do you forget our natural right to self-determination?"

"PREMIER TUGSTEIN!"

"I-I-- I refer the gentleman to my last response."

Laughter bursts out from both sides as the Government stands there in shame.

After the session closed, reporters all swarmed to Connors.

I find it perfect that I have now planted the seeds. She'll probably whip me into line, but even if I disobey, she can't do anything. I'm too famous and this will probably be on the news tonight. If she wants to lose the support of the remaining radical wing, then she can kick me out. Not even Weng Duhan can touch me now, as a matter of fact, I'll pay him a visit tonight.

<Koyro> (Democratic Koyro) NSG senate is a glaring example of why no one in NSG should ever have a position of authority
The Emerald Dawn wrote:"Considering Officer Krupke was patently idiotic to charge these young men in the first place, we're dropping the charges in the interest of not wasting any more of the Judiciary's time with farcical charges brought by officers who require more training on basic legal principles."

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The Jahistic Unified Republic
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Founded: Feb 28, 2012
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Postby The Jahistic Unified Republic » Fri Mar 21, 2014 9:59 am

"Does the question asked by you today signify a lack of trust in the Government?"

"No, not necessarily. I just think the Government and the Party has lost touch with the oppressed people of Roubao. You see, I was born in Roubao and my parents still live there. They write to me constantly about the low standard of living and borderline Stalinist political system ruled by the Green Party there..."

Yes, yes, I know that things aren't that bad in Roubao, but the ends always justify the means. And, for the record, my parents and my entire extended family disowned me when I left my well-paying lawyer job to join the Revolution. I haven't seen them in seventeen years, but hey, what do they care? And what do I care? Power outweighs family, always.

"... and I feel that, even if Roubao politically realigns with it's motherland, it would need to exist under the direct rule of the Party and the Jahistic ideology. I am actually about to talk to the General Secretary about it, so please, if you would."

"Mr. Connors, Mr. Connors, Mr. Connors!"

Connors walked the trek from the government's side of the Assembly of the People to the Party's Headquarters. He went upstairs to the General Secretary's office and knocked impatiently on the door, bypassing the secretary.

"Sir, I need you to sit down and wait, the General Secretary is busy now."

The door opened.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing, Connors?" Weng barked in his face.

"You. Sit. Now."

"Excuse me?"

"Go into your office and sit." Connors glared at him and, for unknown reasons, Weng agreed.

"Turn on the Firebrand's website. Don't question, just do it, sir. What's the first thing you see?"

"'Assemblyman Jacob Connors derides Government, Jahistic Party, for softness on the Roubao issue.' Are. You. Fucking. Mad? Jacob, I don't want you deriding our Party in the Assembly, on live television, during the Open Ended Questions time. Jacob, I'm going have to disown you from the Party and make you an independent. I'm so fucking upset at you!"

"You will do no such thing, General Weng."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't think you understand." Connors gets up in his personal space slowly. "I own you. Because of the rabid group of followers that he," pointing to a portrait of Thuman, "set up. If you think the JYC won't pounce on you for your revisionism physically, like they did at the polling booth earlier this month, you're more of a fool than how you've shown to be.. I would really hate to see that happen to a man of your stature in the Party."

He leaves the space of a very frightened Weng Duhan.

"You will call a Congress to be held in May, after the Presidential elections. I will resign my seat in the Assembly later this month so it looks like I wasn't punished directly. But I guarantee you, if you fuck me, you will see thousands of angry, armed teenagers willing to throw you out of office.

I thank you for your time. Have a good day, okay?" He took his General's cap and walked out.
Last edited by The Jahistic Unified Republic on Fri Mar 21, 2014 10:00 am, edited 2 times in total.

<Koyro> (Democratic Koyro) NSG senate is a glaring example of why no one in NSG should ever have a position of authority
The Emerald Dawn wrote:"Considering Officer Krupke was patently idiotic to charge these young men in the first place, we're dropping the charges in the interest of not wasting any more of the Judiciary's time with farcical charges brought by officers who require more training on basic legal principles."

Baseball is Best Sport. Life long StL Fan.

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Semarland
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Posts: 792
Founded: Mar 01, 2014
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Semarland » Fri Mar 21, 2014 7:30 pm

SEMARLAND 3 2 DUTCH SEMARLAND
Lygaard 23, 49, 86 - Praindaars 54, Pieke 88

Teams:

Semarland:
GK: Jorgen Karlstad (Markus Hansen HT)
LB: Matur Eiriksson
CB: Daniel Christian Heidmarlik (Nicolas Janzaard HT)
CB: Per Olsen
RB: Matthias Karbruck (Eirik Malsen 75)
LW: Kasper Blonqaard
CM: Steve Richard Maatsen (Braanko Jaanssen 83)
CM: Marko Halck
RW: Andreas Jansen (Olle Pranich 72)
FW: Marc Lygaard
FW: Janko Datheim (Otto Kalsabur 72)

Dutch Semarland:
GK: Enrique Selies
LB: Jaakob Klooizens
CB: Cesar Lulio
CB: Shelton Kelech
RB: Slatur Seldsen (Patryk van Brozelaar 61)
LM: Fairzhal Rokbelt (Kaste Roleks 72)
CM: Telur Heirik (Lucillio de la Franquera HT)
RM: Keret Pieke
LF: Helio Vrentschkar (Kelex Praindaars 52)
CF: Keldon Sheller (Piero Senter 89)
RF: Delio Keltzer (Aurelio Cerechte 85)
The Republic of Semarland
Capital: Jansberg - Demonym: Semar/Semarlandic - Trigramme: SEM
sportsat.sem
Hosted: Trindl Cup I/II, Baptism of Fire 68
Champions: Meski Cup I, 5AS WC II, U18 WC I
<Nephara> RETURN OF Sem|Transfers THE PEOPLES' CHAMPION
<Jeck> If Sem RPs as much as he transfers, next cycle we're all screwed
<Yttribia> Sem seems like the sort of guy who'd work at Tesco's and slide his mixtape in each bag

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Semarland
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Founded: Mar 01, 2014
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Semarland » Fri Mar 21, 2014 7:37 pm

Dutch Semarland 4 1 Semarland (15th February 2014, Archived Report)
Senter 3, Pierris 28, Moncur 79, Cerechte 84 - Larsen 18

Teams:

Dutch Semarland:
GK: Klaudio Hechtner
LB: Patryk van Brozelaar
CB: Pieter Moncur
CB: Rafael Centre
RB: Giovannis Ceriazokopalinos (Slatur Seldsen 59)
LW: Fairzhal Rokbelt (Marin Popoksal 63)
CM: Telur Heirik (Lucillio de la Franquera 57)
CM: Keret Pieke (Tomas Nejchtaars 82)
RW: Diego Pierris
FW: Piero Senter (Kelex Praindaars 82)
FW: Keldon Sheller (Aurelio Cerechte 80)

Semarland:

GK: Martin Datheim (Markus Hansen HT)
LB: Matur Eiriksson
CB: Per Olsen
CB: Andy Heinrikhsen (Johan Petersen HT)
RB: Eirik Malsen
LM: Marko Halck (Emel Nielsen 32)
CM: Steve Richaard Matsen (Mads Olsen 73)
RM: Andreas Jansen
LF: Lars Carlsberg (Simon Marcssen 82)
CF: Marc Lygaard
RF: Jakob Larsen (Nils Moller 90+1)
The Republic of Semarland
Capital: Jansberg - Demonym: Semar/Semarlandic - Trigramme: SEM
sportsat.sem
Hosted: Trindl Cup I/II, Baptism of Fire 68
Champions: Meski Cup I, 5AS WC II, U18 WC I
<Nephara> RETURN OF Sem|Transfers THE PEOPLES' CHAMPION
<Jeck> If Sem RPs as much as he transfers, next cycle we're all screwed
<Yttribia> Sem seems like the sort of guy who'd work at Tesco's and slide his mixtape in each bag

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Semarland
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Posts: 792
Founded: Mar 01, 2014
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Semarland » Fri Mar 21, 2014 7:47 pm

Kurlsjikaard is a small town on the border of Semarland and Dutch Semarland. This match was a friendly and the Kurlsjikaard team consisted of both Semar and Dutch Semar professional footballers who had international caps of 10 or less.
Semarland 2 0 Kurlsjikaard
Fjyoord 82, Heikkilä 89

Teams:

Semarland:

GK: Anders Sjelkords (Jorgen Karlstad HT)
LB: Matur Eiriksson
CB: Magnus Nielsen (Mark Eikrem HT)
CB: Tapio Jari Heikkilä
RB: Lars Jorgensen
LW: Daniel Spielsberg
CM: Adren Christiansen-Hallensburg (Emel Nielsen 88)
CM: Marko Halck
RW: Andreas Jansen (Martin Kristiansen 60)
FW: Marc Lygaard (Otto Kalsabur 60)
FW: Jan Markus Hellensen (Steve Fjyoord 75)

Kurlsjikaard:

GK: Leo Mulsen (Tomasz Pieleksz HT)
LB: Niko Jans Pedersen
CB: Cesar Lulio
CB: Franko Rijelkaard
RB: Martin Malsson (Jens Heisterner 53)
LM: Braanko Jaanssen
CM: Franceus Elaar (Markus Ramsen 55)
RM: Roman Thuirlzen (Nikolas Hei Pedersen HT)
LF: Dario Peijkos
CF: Delio Keltzer (Piero Lucter 63)
RF: Martin Lansen (Andres Menizen 63)
The Republic of Semarland
Capital: Jansberg - Demonym: Semar/Semarlandic - Trigramme: SEM
sportsat.sem
Hosted: Trindl Cup I/II, Baptism of Fire 68
Champions: Meski Cup I, 5AS WC II, U18 WC I
<Nephara> RETURN OF Sem|Transfers THE PEOPLES' CHAMPION
<Jeck> If Sem RPs as much as he transfers, next cycle we're all screwed
<Yttribia> Sem seems like the sort of guy who'd work at Tesco's and slide his mixtape in each bag

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The Jahistic Unified Republic
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 14096
Founded: Feb 28, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby The Jahistic Unified Republic » Sat Mar 22, 2014 5:55 am

Semarland wrote:Kurlsjikaard is a small town on the border of Semarland and Dutch Semarland. This match was a friendly and the Kurlsjikaard team consisted of both Semar and Dutch Semar professional footballers who had international caps of 10 or less.
Semarland 2 0 Kurlsjikaard
Fjyoord 82, Heikkilä 89

Teams:

Semarland:

GK: Anders Sjelkords (Jorgen Karlstad HT)
LB: Matur Eiriksson
CB: Magnus Nielsen (Mark Eikrem HT)
CB: Tapio Jari Heikkilä
RB: Lars Jorgensen
LW: Daniel Spielsberg
CM: Adren Christiansen-Hallensburg (Emel Nielsen 88)
CM: Marko Halck
RW: Andreas Jansen (Martin Kristiansen 60)
FW: Marc Lygaard (Otto Kalsabur 60)
FW: Jan Markus Hellensen (Steve Fjyoord 75)

Kurlsjikaard:

GK: Leo Mulsen (Tomasz Pieleksz HT)
LB: Niko Jans Pedersen
CB: Cesar Lulio
CB: Franko Rijelkaard
RB: Martin Malsson (Jens Heisterner 53)
LM: Braanko Jaanssen
CM: Franceus Elaar (Markus Ramsen 55)
RM: Roman Thuirlzen (Nikolas Hei Pedersen HT)
LF: Dario Peijkos
CF: Delio Keltzer (Piero Lucter 63)
RF: Martin Lansen (Andres Menizen 63)

Semarland, we HAVE a sporting thread for you to post this stuff in.

<Koyro> (Democratic Koyro) NSG senate is a glaring example of why no one in NSG should ever have a position of authority
The Emerald Dawn wrote:"Considering Officer Krupke was patently idiotic to charge these young men in the first place, we're dropping the charges in the interest of not wasting any more of the Judiciary's time with farcical charges brought by officers who require more training on basic legal principles."

Baseball is Best Sport. Life long StL Fan.

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Grand Libertia
Secretary
 
Posts: 27
Founded: Nov 15, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Grand Libertia » Sat Mar 22, 2014 7:47 pm

A BALLAD OF YELLOW PERIL AND VIETNAM WAR NARRATIVE OF KAMI-SAMA
Modern Tech (??) or a drunk lovechild with Fantasy(!!!)
this is Mature by the way

"Fuck that yellowman!" a youth looking soldier sweating in his uniform cursed, his feet stomping this filthy forest floor. "The more he escaped from me, the harder I'll molest him fucking soon after God decided to end his invisibility superpower. And fuck you all, too." he glanced to behind him, a dozen other soldiers following.

"Well what to do, let's searching this shit for any chance for those Charlies." another retorted. "I think I saw one pretending to be deer in this damned rainforest." he stripped his pants and fire igniting from his ass. He dashed into the sky. "See? I think there's one lurking on the -- oh shit! I think he's trying to fucking shoot me. Ha - ha. Talking bout to kill Captain Libertia!" he played his rifle. Bam-bam.

"Ah no, follow your buddy or he alone will has orgasmic joy of killing Charlies." the first guy dropped his pants and flying, others followed him. "Where's that Charlie?"

"He's goddamned run, you fool. Let's go!" thirteen pantless men carrying their rifles smoothly slithering above the canopy of Phuan rainforest in mission to exterminate the remaining of Phuan commies. It was so hot above there, the tropical climate what with mosquitoes climbing to your skin and trying to suck some blood syrup.

The commies fare better below, ten men that ran faster than they should have. Closer to look it appears that they teleported for each meter they passed, much for the frustration of Libertians above hunting. The leader, Comrade Conhđiếm now busy whispering orders to his companions beneath a dead panda.

"tinh ranh của tinh ranh của tinh ranh của -- quái quái quái!"

Unfortunately dead panda was very obvious in rainforest, so the Libertians saw them.

"Stop your monkeychattering goddamn Charlies!" Soldier Isaac the Libertian dropped his first bomb: a giant matter appeared to slowly shaping itself into something harder and explosive. The giant matter was unleashed from his butt into the rainforest, where Phuan Comrades now gathered and they did not even have any time to scream -- they were busy incinerated to death.

"I love the smell of anal napalm in fucking morning."

As any movies with good ending for villains, an Indian vimana brought by unplussed Vishnu himself appeared and turned the Libertian soldiers into ashes. Know it that vimana carries souls to afterlife.
-~-~-~-

The patriots, Libertians and comrades alike, awakened in a strangely white room that was like grinning to them. Or at least perhaps it was indeed grinning to them, assuming if there was a room because there was none. Assuming, again, that there was none. Because there wasn't any none anywhere.

Kami-sama was watching them from far away or near away, she herself knows. She wore an inverted wedding gown and admittedly very beautiful, divinely beautiful. She was obviously Helen of Troy. Wait, but she wasn't. She was the one created Helen of Troy and sentenced her to sew her face into Kami-sama's.

Kami-sama smiled. She carried a birthday cake along with her. "Hello there, my good friends!" she welcomed the men cheerfully. They looked to their crotch, they were no longer pantless! Oh the joy. "This is compulsory modesty zone, buddies. Let's celebrate your first and last birthday here in Afterlife Company's Building! Here's my only friend, Pupu."

A penguin waiting for them on the suddenly-appeared white table. This is going to be fun indeed!
Repoeblik Rakjat Kelaraja
People's Republic of Kelaraya

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Namor
Minister
 
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Founded: Mar 28, 2012
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Postby Namor » Sun Mar 23, 2014 6:11 am

Sidai: The Namorese weekly news magazine
Two magazine covers of Sidai, the Namorese equivalent of TIME


Image

Image
NMR-free since August 2017!

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Namor
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Founded: Mar 28, 2012
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Postby Namor » Mon Mar 24, 2014 1:04 pm

A Girl from the Plains
When the President-General was six years old

Wana Be, East Nozama
NMR 2321 (1981 CE)

"Tag, you're it!"
Image

The light touch of a girl was felt by a boy, whose name we no longer know and is dumped into the pages of history. Screams and shouts were heard as the boy, frowning, dashed at the girl who tagged him, trying to chase her down.

"I swear," shouted the boy, "I'll get you, I'll get---"

Before he could pronounce the word "you," his right foot had already tripped over the rock, bringing the entire body down into the red dirt. By the time the boy had time to get back to his feet and continue the chase, the girl was long out of his reach, and people were hollering and laughing.

"Wow, you can't even tag a girl!" someone from the crowd of playing kids hooted in Kaku. "You're pathetic!"

"Whatever, this game sucks, anyway." The boy shrugged the dirt off his arms. "I have had enough of this, I quit."

"Aw, come on, really?" The girl that the boy was trying to chase after suddenly ran back. "I like tag, it's a great game...are you okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me, I'm always okay." The boy gave the girl a nasty look. "Ooh, look at Katie Khanie, cares about other people."

The girl frowned. "Hey, shut up! What's wrong about caring 'bout others? And what's wrong about tag?"

"It's getting old, I don't like it." The boy mumbled back. "Can we just play something else?"

"Yeah, let's play something else!" the crowd hollered like kids do.

Before the girl could think of any other game (she was thinking of catch), the voice of her mother rang out. "Kaitlyn, dear, time to eat dinner! It's getting late and the sun's setting!"

"Ai-ya!" Khan screamed, obviously devastated at going home to dinner with her boring family. "I'm coming, I'm coming. Sorry," she turned to her fellow peers. "I, gotta go eat. We'll play tomorrow."

"But tomorrow we have school!" A girl identified as Khan's playmate and friend whined.

"I know," Khan muttered as she turned home, her mother waiting at the door. "I know."

She entered her house. It was a really simple house, with only one floor and six rooms---the larger living room-slash-kitchen-slash-dining room, then the bathroom (the only one in the house), and after that the room of her parents, the room of her grand-parents, and the room of herself, the only child in the Khan family. Even the dining room is simple as any home of a Namorese living in the Plains---one round table where the family ate around, a transistor radio that broadcasted daily news and songs from the capital, a stove, and two portraits of smiling men in civilian uniform overlooking the dining family; one of Yunglang and another of his son, Gretel, the one that recently took over and threw Kiang Ssxu in jail. At least that's what Khan's parents have been saying since childhood.

The Khan family ate rice and vegetables that day, as usual; there wasn't really anything else they could eat besides the very foods they grew in the fields. Meat was a delicacy and luxury, and had to be bought from a store ten kilometers away. Indeed, it was not worth the trip, since the Khan family did not own a motor-powered vehicle. Just a bicycle and their own legs and feet.

"Thank Heaven for the food, May the gods be blessed," Khan's father muttered the short Txoist mealtime prayer, then said out loud, "Okay, let's eat. Katie, turn on the radio."

"Will do, father." As Kaitlyn Khan scooped up rice with his chopsticks, he used her left hand to switch on the radio. Immediately, the nightly news of PTH began its first minute of broadcast. "Good evening, this is Namorese Radio-Television from Namo, capital of Free Esquarium..." The news were no surprise. It always began with what Gretel was doing, what the Liberationist Party was doing, and then came the "real news." Always, Kaitlyn swore she kept hearing the words "Minjuha" over and over in the radio news, never knowing what it really meant. So it was on that day when she decided to ask.

"Father." She began.

"Yes, Katie?"

"What's...what's Minjuha?" she timidly asked.

"Minjuha? Well, ha, Minjuha!" laughed her father, spitting some of his food at his own bowl. "Minhuja, hm, let's see. It's that word. That word."

"What does that word...mean?"

"You shouldn't ask, girl," her father responded. "Once until you're older. Older, when, say, you're sixteen or so."

Realizing that her father was hiding something away from her, Kaitlyn decided to turn to her grand-father, the wisest in the family and the "Old Rebel," as everyone else called him.

Her grandfather coughed, wheezed, and laughed, trying to conceal his old age. "Listen to your father," he replied sternly. "You really shouldn't even be asking what that means."

"But," stammered Kaitlyn, "why?"

Her father sighed. It was a complicated question to answer, since "politics" wasn't welcomed in family discussions, at least not openly. There was the Green Fever, for one, that prevented them from questioning the Liberationist Party, then the paranoia and the traditional belief that questioning authority and anything that it does is wrong. Such attitudes led to the hostility towards political discussions, whatever they were. Finally, the father was inclined to give an answer.

"Minjuha is something...good," he began. "It means...power to the people. It means that we have the authority to rule ourselves."

"Ahhh....Minjuha..." Kaitlyn said, repeating the word over and over, including its definition. "Power to the people...power to the people..."

"Fool, fool," her grandfather was thrown into a mini-tantrum. "What did I tell you? Don't you understand that the Liberationists do not tolerate dirty mouths?"

"What?" the father protested. "I was just trying to..educate a girl! Also, Kiang's in jail, Yunglang's dead, and now his son is in power. He won't throw anyone in jail!"

"Just, shut up," muttered the mother.

"Indeed," the old man coughed once again. "But sometimes, you just do not need to know everything."

But as the dinner went on, and the plates were being cleaned, Khan's mind was allowed access to a whole new world.
Last edited by Namor on Tue Mar 25, 2014 12:37 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Vyvland
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Founded: Aug 14, 2013
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Postby Vyvland » Mon Mar 24, 2014 2:19 pm

A day in the life of Kurt Blymont, age 6. 25th August 1959.
Image
It was Kurt's first day in Meeri, a dismal industrial town on the outskirts of Lyksdal, Vyvland's biggest city and an industrial powerhouse. This was his third move of house in as many years; Kurt knew it was because of his father's occupation, but he didn't know exactly why. All Kurt recognised was how the constant commotion was affecting his life. He couldn't remember the last time he'd held down a stable friendship with someone his age. He was constantly having to adapt and meet new people, only for the. Fortunately, his education was relatively continuous everywhere in the country he went. It was the nine months in Vjaarland that had particularly troubled him; thrown him off course at the ripe age of 5.

He was done exploring the new house. It was an old nineteenth-century pile in what seemed to be Meeri's only respectable quarter, down by the river. Every eighteen minutes, a train rattled across the long truss bridge over the River Sdaamro into Lyksdal. He'd spent the past hour counting. Kurt looked out of the back window in the loft where he was currently sitting; a nice view was afforded out over a row of rooftops onto the murky torrent of a river. Kurt had been told this was to be his room, but he didn't want to get too attached to it just yet. It'd be bound to change within the next year.

Kurt dusted off a battered box, the only object accompanying him in the room at the moment. Out of it, he took his most treasured possession; a violin. Twenty-four months ago, his aunt Gerjryd had bestowed him with this gift, a shiny little brown implement that he'd had no use for at the time. But he'd started to play it a few weeks later, and was hooked. And he'd kept improving, progressing from notes to little ditties to simple tunes. It was like the violin was the only constant in his life. It was the only relationship - bar his parents - that accompanied him from place to place. And the melodies that came from it felt like the only things he could control in his life. But a voice beckoned; Kurt halted.

"Curtis, her hes fi ynfe begenenge bet figs beds!"
"Curtis, here's the first bit of your bed!"

"Sdems, ati."
"OK, dad."

He grumbled under his breath, at his father's presumptuousness, at his blasé-ness, at his snobby style of speech. He was beginning to resent him.

A day in the life of Robert Ujson, age 10. 20th June 1973.
Image
Cycling fast, Robert and four of his friends are descending the Monasdehel, a large hill overlooking his hometown of Mruk to its east, and the open Northern Sea to its west. A sea breeze Robert - or Robi, to his friends - picked up a bit of speed and overtook Daniel, who was cycling at the front of the pack. A sharp corner made him throw on his breaks. The others admired Robi for his technical skill and daring attitude, as he swerved and braked. It was all part of his act, his showing-off. The boys stopped for a drink; the day was long and hot. They looked over the town, each attempting to sport their houses. And then they got back on their bikes, and sped off down the hill.

Again, Robi started off at the back, and overtook. He skidded across the gravel, past all his friends, dodging rocks and bushes. The path was starting to narrow ahead of him, but Robi was paying more attention to the races he was making up in his head. A sharp corner appeared - seemingly out of nowhere. Robi whacked on the brake. A screech was emitted from his bike. But it wasn’t soon enough. The little boy disappeared off the parapet below the path. A few falls down, through gorse and over bare rock. Screams from above. Robert hit the bottom, and he was gone.

Little Robert’s eyes awoke. He couldn't quite feel his arms, and his left leg was a bit off. Half a minute or so passed until the ringing sound in his ears faded, and by then all he was hearing were the anxious cries of his companions, who still rested above the rockface. He attempted to sit up on his arm, but couldn't. And then he noticed the pools of blood, streaming from his limbs into a little burrow a foot in front of him in the ground. One of his friends, Mafjas, skidded down a nearby slope, and scrambled towards Robi. He saw the blood on the floor.

"Zoit! Robi, bes fay rugtig?"
"Shit! Robi, are you alright?"

Robi was scared by his best friend's use of that sort of word. He'd never heard anyone actually say it before.

"Uj, nee. Neemyj."
"Oh, no. Not at all."

Robi heard sirens. The rest flashed before him - a woman coming to pick him up, an ambulance, some sort of injection. The next thing he knew, Robi was in a bed at the local hospital, with all his limbs in bandages. He smiled, with his newly crooked mouth, at his parents above him.
Last edited by Vyvland on Mon Mar 24, 2014 2:20 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Esquarium's favourite Germanic island nation - De lubsde germanig iylaan Esgerms
Wiki
Region: Esquarium
Population: 28.2 million
Languages: Vyvlander and Dutch
Capital: Lorence/Lohrec, Largest cities: Vlud and Lyksdal
President: Robert Ujson (Liberal), Prime Minister: Kurt Blymont (Conservative)
Area: 260,000 km2
Demonym: Vyvlander

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Demphor
Senator
 
Posts: 3528
Founded: Jun 03, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Demphor » Mon Mar 24, 2014 3:18 pm

OOC: here's for the somewhat sappy story of James Kernow, President of the Demphorian Republic
James Kernow - Age 3
June 4th, 1986


"Father! Father! Where are we going today?" said James. The very small, intelligent boy had lived vibrantly in the capital of the Empire for many years with his father. His father, George, had very much appreciated his little son's happiness, even after mom had passed.

"Well James, today I'm showing you a little early birthday present!"

"Yay!" said James, as he hopped out of the car. As he looked up, he saw that he was in the center of Christiana, the Royal Quarter.

"Wow Daddy! Is this really where he lives?"

George smiled, "Yes son, the King lives here, not many people outside our country know of him, or his father," said George.

"What's his name again Daddy?"

"His name is Benjamin, of the House of Dormor."

"Oh yeah, I forgot!"

The little boy and his dad walked around the courtyard of the Winter Palace. The King was not there in the summer, so it was open to the public to tour for free.

"Daddy why are there people in funny costumes everywhere?"
George laughed, "well, son, those are guards of the King! They're supposed to protect him with their life!"

As they continued to look at the monuments and the beautiful architecture and the people, some commotion began at the gate. People gathered around as a car had pulled up, more like a motorcade. George and James turned to look, and take a look at who it was.

With James on his shoulders, George was soon asked to be lined up on a red carpet with his son, James still on his shoulders. The pomp a and circumstance had everyone caught off guard, as mainly tourists had arrived today. With almost an instant, the King had stepped out of the car and was walking down the aisle.

"Daddy! Who's that?"
"That's your King, son!" said George, somewhat shocked himself. If there was any rare event, this was one of them.
His Royal Majesty King Benjamin the Wise, son of James, of the House of Dormor, Ever in the Service of the People of the Demphorian Empire, made his way down the carpet towards the palace. His years of service to the Empire had shown in the greyness of his hair, and the rumor that he was sick had been flowing through the nation for years now, and that soon, his daughter, Anne, only at age 16, would take the throne.

As he made his way down the carpet, he would stop and say hello to certain people, compliment them, and continue onwards. As they walked passed George, he stopped to say hello.

"Is this your son?" he said, his voice warm and gentle.
"Y-yes, you Majesty!" said George, "'His name is James!"
The King smiled, "James?" he now looked up at him, "now what do you want to be when you grow up James?"
James, really not sure what to say to that, thought of the best answer possible, "I want to be a King! Just like you!"
The King chuckled, "ah James! You do not need to be a King to make a difference! You can be anything, do anything, serve the country in any way!" he smiled, he looked downwards now, grinning, and saying quietly, "Soon there will be no more Kings."

George, now realizing what the King just said, "...Your Majesty?"
The King looked up now, "Nothing lad! Nothing at all, don't you worry about it. I hope your young man grows up to do great things for this country! Let us hope that when he does he takes it to greater things then I ever imagined! Goodbye now!"

And the King was off, back into the Palace to announce that he had been diagnosed with parkinson's disease and lung cancer, and that in his deteriorating health he would pass on his power to the Provincial Assemblies, who would later go on to form the Confederation of Demphor.
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Britanno
Minister
 
Posts: 2992
Founded: Apr 05, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Britanno » Mon Mar 24, 2014 4:19 pm

An Empty Post - Part 1
24th March, 2014 | 10 Caddington Street | Candover | Britanno

"What'd you think Marcus?"

The question broke the silent pause in the conversation between the two men. It had been unintended, but not awkward. A mental agreement had been arranged without any words being spoken, as though both politicians shared the same thoughts and feelings.

"It'll be yours within twenty four hours Edward, just you see."

Once again, the daunting hoards of quietness hushed all possible proposals of speech. It was not common for men of the positions of Marcus Browning and Edward Field to be speechless, and yet the special occasion of the date seemed to be enough to justify the tranquillity.

It had been an entire week since the election. It had taken this long for the barriers of anger and hostility to be broken down to a level suitable for talks between the Conservatives and Liberals. Now the two leading figures of the new largest party in Parliament were to meet with enemies they had considered threats for the previous eight years.

"You ready?"

"Nope," replied Edward as he climbed the steps.
NSGS Liberal Democrats - The Centrist Alternative
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Pro: marriage equality, polygamy, abortion up to viability, UK Lib Dems, US Democrats
Anti: discrimination, euroscepticism, UKIP, immigrant bashing, UK Labour, US Republicans
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Michillies
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 455
Founded: Oct 03, 2013
Ex-Nation

Meet Your New Home

Postby Michillies » Mon Mar 24, 2014 4:32 pm

-retconned-
Last edited by Michillies on Wed May 11, 2016 7:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Luziyca
Post Czar
 
Posts: 38290
Founded: Nov 13, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Luziyca » Mon Mar 24, 2014 4:41 pm

A day in the life of Bruevi Shjoraski - aged 5, September 7, 1959


Image
It was Shjoraski's last day as a young child, for tomorrow marks a new era of his life: entering grade school. His older sister, Mary was in Grade 2, his youngest, Katrina was scarcely a year old.

He lived in an older home. Not predating the unification, mind you, but built in the 1920s. He was slightly nervous of school, since he only was at a daycare, and never knew much of it.

"Seen," Alexander called to Breuvi. "Komen har!" "Son, come here!"

Breuvi didn't hesitate and quickly ran down the stairs to see him. "Ja, papen?" he asks. "Yes, daddy?"

"Breuvi, vy sunt nachat shkola," Alexander said. "Priyem budet incipias."
"Breuvi, you are about to start school. Kindergarten will be where you will start.

"Y, papen? Quid smogu li ya zenat?" Breuvi asked, desperate for knowledge.
And, daddy? What will I learn?"

"Zenatiye yeshcha nemnogo, y perekhod vy ot detsad ot klass shkola," Alexander replied.
"Learning some more, and transitioning you from daycare to grade school."

"Pochemu vy kalla mig ner?" Breuvi asked, slightly annoyed.
"So, why did you call me down here?"

"Vi ska till detsad vash gradatsiya ceremoni," Alexander replied. "Vy parata?"
"We're going to your daycare for your graduation ceremony. Are you ready?"

"JA!" Breuvi exclaimed.

The mother said, "Prikhod...", as she carried Katrina, and her husband shouted, "Speshite!" It was to hurry Karen up and so to ensure they all got to attend the ceremony on time.
"Coming..." "Hurry up!"

Mary came with them, and soon, the family locked up their doors and made their way to the daycare to celebrate them graduating into kindergarten. It was more of a farewell ceremony, but not that it mattered. This cohort will stick around since all are heading to the same school anyways. All heading to Saint Luther's Primary School, all ready to learn, while realizing that just yesterday, their sons and daughters were born...
Last edited by Luziyca on Mon Mar 24, 2014 4:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Saracenia
Diplomat
 
Posts: 612
Founded: Jan 06, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Saracenia » Mon Mar 24, 2014 6:19 pm

THE REVOLUTION, A MONSTER AND A LITTLE FAIRY GIRL
Challenge for story accepted.
MATURE

A man in black walked calmly across the Palace's Garden, sharpening his eyes and ears. The man in black was a professional in searching his objectives, without any voice made did he carefully strode and observing every exotic plants as if he was intrigued by them. But nay, what he looked for and what his exalted father of the revolution looked for isn't some green things, but—

That is. That's what he looked for, the innocent laughter of children. And where there are playing children, there's a prince. Thus, a heir for the Royal Throne. And death to the heir of the Royal Throne!

But the man in black has yet to smile. Not yet, he told himself. The man in black walked as if there's nothing happen, he's one of the Exalted Immortals, the Royal Guards after all, and as if he was sent to pay attention for straying children. The Revolutionary's Commander isn't only source for his objective. Behind the bushes, he saw at least seven children chasing each other playing a certain game of chaos with no rules or leadership. Just consent. Children could make really, really good anarchists.

“Good morning.” he said normally.

The children looked to him, trembling in fear. So children weren't so different from adults, he thought to himself. They tremble upon my presence and greatly uncomfortable, just as others did. In few seconds they ran away screaming or laughing, twas difficult to find out which one. The playground was left empty, the game's over, there was only the main in black standing and a seven-year-old boy sitting, looked to the man in black in indifference and contempt but learned good manners by the upstanding aristocratic Saracen ladies.

“Good morning, Sir.” the boy stood. “You have come to pick me up?”

Alas, he was so wrongly genre savvy. Good thing that the guard was lying down dead hidden between bushes, his throat slitted. Couldn't His Imperial Majesty the Shah brought some better guards for the heir for the Throne? Too bad that he couldn't trust the leather-clad men that have served him for hundreds of years and now merely demanding retribution. Nevertheless, the man in black bowed.

“Indeed, Your Majesty. Kindly take my lowly hand and follow me back.”

The boy shrugged. “Well it can't be helped right? Father is over-obsessed all day, but he rarely sent people like you. Too bad, I think your uniform's pretty cool rather than pumping gown of those goofy guards.” he grabbed the man in black's hand and start running, laughing. “Now let's back!”

Not so fast, old boy. The man in black snapped his neck and the boy jerked a while, before lie down unconscious. Not like this, he was supposed to kill him. But he didn't. Yet, anyway. He always liked this boy, not in a good way like the cackling maidens always told that boy, and he isn't a necrophile. He didn't want to fuck a corpse, what he desired is just a fresher one, and of course younger. The man in black hoped he live hundreds years ago when the Shahs held a huge orgy and pedo mansions. Alas, he isn't The Doctor and he cannot turn time back or forth.

So the man in black began to work, like he did to animals. He flay them. Or more in case of this boy, he stripped him. His clothes weren't that multi-layered. Shouldn't be much a mess itself—

“Excuse me, Sir? Are you and this boy happen to lost?”

The man in black turned. Fuck. A short, youthful and annoying-looking girl in a ridiculously pumping gown was looking to him with her ridiculously wide eyes and two-dimensional form. What, is she a kind of anime character or something? He has no interest in this girl and he knew a little interest indeed could worsen things with curious questions and whatnot. So he scowled, the reaction of a proper noblemen upon seeing a petty commoner-blooded peasant and murmured.

“This isn't your business, common whore. Your Majesty was knocked up by something.”

“I could help him, I'm a healer after all!” the girl smiled and began walking, approaching the man in black and the knocked prince-boy. “And I think you meant someone—”

Too late. The man in black didn't like leaving trails, but this thought was already late anyway by him murdering that pesky guard. He plunged his knife to the girl before even she breathe for second time, and he quickly covered the splattering blood with his jacket. The girl didn't screamed, only sighed for the last time before falling down into the man in black's arms. Blood, don't let blood defile his uniform.

"didn't you?"

The man in black's presence always brought the uneasy, worrying, uncomfortable and fearful feelings upon those who present. Children and adults alike tremble in front of him. Only the Shah and the Revolutionary Father didn't, but they were interesting cases anyway, obviously fighting cobras for years would brought it for you. And -- and now, he felt uncomfortable to this dead girl. This undead girl, to be more exact.

“Why?” the girl was in middle between crying and smiling which turned into a rather creepy grin, despite the man in black thought that her crying would be rather cute, such an anime character. “Why are you getting cruel to me? I just want to help!”

“Why?” as she repeated the words, the man in black was trembling. It was as if the fourth wall—he didn't have the slightest idea about what the heck is that term, but he sensed it was an insane idea anyway—was broke free and now surrounding him in a form of giant man-devouring penguin. And he never saw any penguin before.

The man in black knew what should happen next. Damn he can't molest this child. So he quickly made a last wish: a question. “Who—who the hell are you?”

“Oh! Thanks for asking!” the girl wiped away her tears. And then she grew a pair of wings, for fuck's sake. “My name's not important here, but you could call me Kami-sama, and nice to meet you! Who's your name? Now have no need to be sad, don't tremble or you'll piss your pants, old man, for you'll spend a tea time with me, forever, start from right now!” she pointed to the man in black's mind, and the man in black himself thought she was pointing at the man-devouring penguin. “And he's Pupu, my buddy.”

Crap. So I'm dealing with an Eldritch Abominat—his thoughts were all disappear as Pupu, the giant penguin, sighed and he was pulled in there, into eternal stasis of Nonexistence. And he must scream.

-~-~-~-~-

Prince Isma'il awakened, in his half-stripped clothes. After few moments, he realised that he had just recovered after being knocked up by that guy with funny dress, and in front of him there's a girl with pumping gown, a mosquito wing and wide eyes staring to him curiously.

“Aaah!” the boy screamed and grabbed his clothes. His face reddened, he never felt any fondness in women, but the mannerism taught him to never shown your skin in front of them. They were different species. They born from the skull of Adam and made to be Man's servant. Be an upstanding, civilised and chivalrous gentleman in front of them, even if you really aren't one.

Close to look, the woman doesn't seem to abide it anyway. She wore no hijab and her gown was short-sleeved, just as the pictures he saw about old Pagans—along with several other naughtier ones—who lived here before the Commander of the Faithfuls drove them away. Slowly, he braved himself to look to the girl's eyes. O Allah, what a curious eyes!

“You don't wear hijab.” Isma'il felt obliged to told her to uphold the standard.

“I don't?” the girl poked her ribbon and now Isma'il doubted whether she really don't. To be honest, he also doubted whether she wore any clothes, despite the gown was still there, and whether she really existed, despite he stood there, albeit rather transparent and winged.

“Oh, it doesn't matter now!” the girl carried him and slithered to the sky. “You should arrive in the Palace as fast as you could, there's going to be a Revolution!”

“Revolu—oh.” the boy Isma'il remembered what his grumpy father told him few days ago. “Don't worry, Father knows it already.” he was excited and trembled in sky here, with no soil for his shoes to be stepped and whatnot. His robe was very windy especially at the below.

“And your father will seek you a refuge. It'd be useless if you weren't there at the beginning wouldn't it? Oh, and please call me Kami-sama!” the girl said without asking. “And nice to meet you!”

“Uuh, nice to meet you too. Where's that guy with funny clothes?”

The girl waved her hand, smiling. “Having friends.”

“Wasn't he one that knocked me?”

“Oh, he only wanted friends.” she said cheerfully.

The boy concluded the man has ended in a fate worse than death, and decided that it'd be more better to not asking anything—he didn't necessarily like graphic details.

They smoothly flew in the sky, beyond the clouds. The boy thought he may saw it wrong, but actually he did saw it, a giant penguin stood thrice larger than the girl Kami-sama that picked him, flying the clouds despite if he recall correctly penguins are swimming, not flying. It also carried a cannon and waved to them. Allah, what a curious appearance. He's quite sure this girl Kami-sama also saw it. “Are we going to that penguin?”

The girl Kami-sama nodded. “Now we're close enough. Goodbye, handsome boy, Prince Isma'il. I'll make sure to attend your throne ascension next week. The Saracens are soo stupid for not having limit age!” the fairy girl Kami-sama laughed. “I'll throw you to the cannon, right now. Goodbye! I'll visit you more often!”

“Wait, what..”

Kaboom.

The visions shifted repeatedly. Last things he saw were clouds, then a penguin smiling to him and he glanced for a while to its stomach, where a thing as large as a man was being digested. Then he entered something dark and hard, the penguin rolled that dark and hard thing. He was thrown again, beyond the clouds, seeing rivers and streets below him started to enlarge. He closed his eyes fearfully..

And he was at the Palace.

It was burning.
Last edited by Saracenia on Mon Mar 24, 2014 6:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Ghant
Minister
 
Posts: 2473
Founded: Feb 11, 2013
Civil Rights Lovefest

The Boy Who Would Be Emperor

Postby Ghant » Tue Mar 25, 2014 1:19 am

The Boy Who Would Be Emperor
When the Emperor of Ghant was six years old

Ghish, Ghant 1994


Prince Nathan Ghant woke up to the same sound that had awakened him for the past few days. The sound of shouting and loud music. He got out of bed, rubbed his eyes, and yawned. He pulled the curtains back from the window beside the bed, and looked outside. There were still hooligans running around drunk, following Ghant’s victory over Jetan in the Men’s Ice Hockey World Championship, and the women’s championship over Semarland, held in Onmutu.

He heard his mother shout. “Good God, when will they shut up? It’s a damn hockey game! Don’t these ruffians have anything better to do?”

Nathan was getting out of his bed, but he felt a wet spot. He wet the bed again, but he wasn’t going to say anything…not yet anyway. His father handled that better then his mother did. His parents fought a lot…often over him, and that was one reason. There was nothing he could do about it though, no matter how hard he tried.

And so he snuck some fresh clothes out of the drawer, and stepped over the toy dinosaurs, action figures and books that littered the floor of his room. His room was big- it had several shelves and bins, filled with toys and books.

He poked his head out of the door, and looked both ways, wondering where his mother was. Downstairs, he figured. He smelled bacon, and he had to go get some. So he came running down the stairs.

His parents had a house in the city, in Uptown. It had two stories, a basement, and big windows. Nathan came bouncing down the stairs, and turned a corner and leapt into his father’s office.

Crown Prince John of Ghant was at his desk, a mess of papers and books. His dad was always busy, pouring over everything meticulously. His parents fought over that too…

John didn’t notice Nathan come in. “Father?”

John looked over his books and smiled. “Hello big guy! Come give me a hug.”

Nathan came around the desk and gave his dad a hug. John was a tall, skinny man, with fair skin, dark hair and blue eyes. Usually a serious, astute man, he was fond of his son.

“Father, I peed the bed again.”

“Its ok son. I will deal with it. Don’t worry, you will grow out of it.”

Nathan felt reassured, and he ran into the kitchen. His mother was making something in the skillet. She was shorter then his father, thin with brown eyes and brown hair. He swooped in behind her and went straight for the bacon platter, grabbing a fist full of bacon.

His mother was quick. She grabbed the arm of the fist full of bacon. “There you are, you little trouble maker you! I am making BLTs…your favorite.”

Nathan thought that sounded good, so he dropped the bacon. His mother grinned and turned around again. Then Nathan took just one strip, ever so carefully. It was chewy…oh so good. He liked it that way…crispy bacon was gross.

There was already some milk and orange juice on the table in the other room, and Nathan ran over and climbed the seat. He went for the milk first, and chugged it. Then he did the same thing to the orange juice.

Just as he was about to get up and get some more, his mother came in with BLTs and omlets. Nathan loved omlets too…

“You already drank all that…sheesh. You must be thirsty.”

His father walked in. “He doesn’t get that from me. He is thirsty…like his mother.”

“Oh, you dog.” His mother giggled. She came back with more milk and orange juice, and sat down. They all dug in.

His mother spoke. “John, how long do you think those hockey idiots are going to be celebrating?”

“I’m not sure. Probably another day or two. Let them enjoy it though, it might be awhile before they win again. Quebec and Jetan are going to be too good.”

His mother didn’t know much about sports. She looked at Nathan. “Is your room clean?”

Nathan was too busy eating to look up. “No.”

His mother was easily annoyed. “Why not?”

“I have been busy reading.”

“Reading what?”

Nathan knew his mother was going to get mad at his response, but he couldn’t lie to her- she knew when he lied. “The Exploits of Robert the Direwolf, by Charlak the Chronicler.”

She looked at his dad with a beet red face. “I thought I made it clear that I don’t want him reading that stuff.”

His dad looked at her with heavy eyes. “He is 2nd in line to the throne, Caroline. He needs to learn what he can about history. He has a talent and a liking for it, so why not cultivate it?”

“Because he should be like other boys his age, playing outside and getting tough. Not sitting inside and reading books.”

Here they go again, he thought. He spoke up to put an end to it. “Mother, I understand it though.”

“Nonsense. You are too young…”

Nathan cut her off. “Robert the Direwolf was the 30th King of Ghant, and he reigned from 1290 until 1295.”

John perked up. “Why did they call him the Direwolf, son?”

“Because he was swift and fierce in battle, like a Direwolf. He used a maul to smash his enemies.”

“Very good.” His father looked at his mother and grinned. His mother rolled her eyes and kept eating.

After they finished eating, his father spoke. “Nathan, get ready, we are going to the Palace today.” And so he did, expediently, but not before grabbing his book that his father gave him to read. They went out to the car.

Before long, they were entering the Imperial Palace grounds. It was so big, and so good for hide and go seek. There were lots of other cars there too.

When the got, Nathan went running. He ran through the front door and out the side door, into the gardens. Sure enough, his grandmother was there, planting flowers. Some white roses.

“Grandma!” He shouted when he saw her. She looked up and saw him come running. She was wearing a gardening dress with dirt stained gloves, her hair long and a faint red, and a big smile. He hugged her when he got close enough, and she covered his face with kisses.

“Hello, sweet! Guess who else is coming today?”

“Who, Grandma?”

“Your friends Sophia and Martin!”

That made Nathan very excited. Sophia and Martin were his best friends. “Grandma, can I give a white rose to Sophia when I see her?”

“Of course. Pick one, but be careful.”

Nathan took a little white rose, and ran back into the palace. His parents were standing in the main hall. “Where did you go?” His mother asked him.

“To the garden. Grandma is planting flowers.”

“Hmmph.” His all his mother said. Nathan had heard it said that she didn’t like his grandma, but he couldn’t understand why.

The three of them walked into the Throne Room. It was huge- so huge, that when he looked up, the height of the ceiling made him dizzy. There was a big table in the middle of the room, and his grandfather, the Emperor, was sitting at it playing cards and drinking with some other men. There were about thirty of them.

They walked up to the table, but nobody seemed to be paying attention. They were deep in conversation.

“How long do you think Swegal is going to hold up?” One of the men said.

“Not long.” Said another. “Swegal ain’t worth a hair on my left nut.”

His father spoke up. “Father, we have arrived.”

His grandfather looked up. He had a big mug in his hand, and he was wearing a fur-lined coat. He was tall with a short black beard. “Hello son, Caroline, and little man.”

The men in his grandfather’s company all stood up to greet them. They were all older men. The one closest to Nathan and his parents scared him- a large, old man wearing a bear hide coat, with a scraggly beard and scars all over his face, and an eye patch.

Nathan couldn’t help but ask, “what happened to your face?”

The throne room erupted in laughter, and his grandfather spit out his drink and laughed obnoxiously. “That’s my boy.” The Emperor said.

The one eyed man looked back and grunted. Then he leaned over and looked Nathan in the eyes. “When I was your age, it was 1938, in the thick of the Revolution. Me and the other mountain boys were running food to the rebel knights in the snow. One day we was running, and we got caught by the Imps and some Nevans. They asked us a bunch of questions that we didn’t know the answers too, and then used us for target practice with they knives. A few caught me in the face, but one got me in the eye. They left me tangled up in the night, and then some rebel boys came and cut us down, and gave us all axes. The one that got my eye, I found him sleeping in a tent. I buried that axe so deep into his skull that I couldn’t take it back out. Then we found those Nevans and tied them up, and used them for target practice.”

His mom stood there agast, and his father looked irritated.

Nathan responded with, “my Father tells me that the Nevans are our friends now.”

The old man looked his father. “Is that right? The Nevans be your friend, but never mine.” The old man stood still for a second, and then cocked his head. “Let me get a good look at you boy.”

He looked the boy in the eyes again, and then looked at his parents. “This boy, he has nothing behind those eyes of his. Just…void. This one will rule long, and will be quite interesting.”

Suddenly, the doors behind them opened. In walked his father’s best friend Malibar, the Lord of Dakmoor, and his two oldest children, Sophia and Martin. Sophia was Nathan’s age, and she wore a dark blue dress that matched her eyes, and she had long dark hair and a big smile. Martin wore pants and a sweater, and walked behind his father.

With everyone looking on, Nathan greeted Sophia and Martin. “Hello friends.”

“Hello, my Prince.” Sophia said as she bowed slightly, and Martin did too.

“Sophia, I picked this for you.” He gave her the white rose that he picked in the garden.

She smiled wide. “It is very pretty. Thank you.” She tucked it behind an ear. Nathan turned around, and everyone was looking, and talking about it.

His father looked at the children. Your dad and me are going to go talk some business. Then he looked at Nathan. “Your mother is going to talk to grandma in the garden. Try to stay out of trouble.”

As soon as he said that, the three of them ran off down the hallway, deeper into the Palace. It was like a maze, filled with paintings, statues, busts and table ornaments. Nathan and Sophia enjoyed quizzing each other on them all, while Martin did his best just to keep up.

They approached a statue of a pretty lady with each hand on a child’s head. “That is Helene of Vjaarland, the Golden Empress of Ghant.” Sophia said. They ran a little further. They saw a painting of a girl with long black hair, standing at the front of a ship in a storm, pointing a sword at the sky, as if to taunt the Gods. “That is Princess Belandra of Ghant, the first Queen of Geadland.” Said Nathan.

Martin spoke up. “I heard she was a witch.”

Nathan smirked. “She wasn’t really a witch. She was just really smart, and superstitious.”

The deeper into the Palace they went, the older things got, and the scarier things got. They saw a room with a old creaky door down one hall, with a dim light coming from inside. The children went to investigate.

It was an old room, filled with cobwebs and spiderwebs. It was dark and creepy. There were bookshelves with books strewn about, a table with letters and maps on it, as well as a lit candle, and a painting on the wall. It was of a young blonde woman.

Sophia knew who it was. “That is Maria of Nevanmaa, Empress of Ghant”.

Martin spoke up. “She was the wife of the Mad Emperor. She was very sad, because the mad Emperor would beat her.”

Nathan looked a the painting. She looked sad. “Grandpa says she cried herself to sleep every night. That is very sad.”

Sophia was thumbing through of the things on the table, which was quite large. She started naming off some of the things that she saw, things about Legendardisch, Chorea and Namor, and a North and South Vyvland, and a East and West Luziyca.

Then someone walked into the room. “What are you children doing in here?”

They turned around, startled. It was Nathan’s uncle Albert, his grandfather’s second son. He was tall and chubby, with short curly black hair, and a big frown on his face. He dressed in full black. “Hello Uncle Albert.” Nathan went over to hug him.

Instead he pushed him away. “Come on, get out of here. You children are not supposed to be in here.”

Albert marched them back to the throne room. He approached his brother. “John, you need to keep an eye on these ragamuffins. I found them snooping around the Old Rooms. There are things down there that they are not supposed to see.”

His dad looked back. “And for reason were you in there? Looking for the Mad Emperor’s blood signed alliance treaty with Chorea? You won’t find it, that is a myth.”

Don’t be ridiculous, John. There was a time when Ghant was not afraid of the world, and was prepared to tackle it head on. If you had your way, we would be falling in with the leftists. It should be clear to you that we need to fall in with the right.”

“You are right. I will have my way, when I am Emperor. And I will help get this country to where it ought to be. You can rest assured.”

Albert turned his back and walked away. “Suit yourself, brother. Maybe this Thuman fellow over in Unolia will make you think differently. If I had my way, I would teach those Noles a thing or two.”

“Let’s be glad you don’t, then. That is as much Fernando’s problem as it is anyone’s.”

Albert didn’t respond to that. He just walked away.

His father looked back at him. “Let’s go find your grandmother. She has cookies.”

The children went running off into the courtyard, and found the Empress on a picnic mat under the shade of a tall tree. “Hello children. Look at you, Sophia! You look very pretty.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Sophia said.

His dad walked up. “Hello mother. I heard you have cookies. Where is Caroline?”

“I do have cookies for you and the children. Your wife is…off skulking somewhere. You know how those Korencian-bloods can be.”

“All too well. I also know how much of a silly Bretian you are.”

His grandma smiled. “A silly Bretian with cookies.” She looked at Nathan. “Chocolate chip, your favorite kind.”

His father, Nathan, Sophia and Martin gorged themselves on cookies. And then he began to feel sleepy. He laid down on the picnic mat, and Sophia laid down next to him, and the white rose tucked behind her hair ticked his nose. He fell asleep to the sound of the rusting of leaves in the tree, and Sophia of Dakmoor’s rose tickling his nose. That was a good day, and Nathan was truly happy.

Life would get progressively worse for Nathan, but that is a story for another day.
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Korencia
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Posts: 187
Founded: Oct 28, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Korencia » Tue Mar 25, 2014 3:37 am

A Tale of Hardships
Life in Korencia from the eyes of year eight old Jonathan Vockmin, in 1960
Jonathan woke up from the sounds of his mother and father preparing their tools for the long journey. Still sleepy, he got a look out of the window. It was still night in, the fist rays of sun barely making their entrance. But such was life in the villages of Korencia. It was Saturday, but Jonathan had no time to rest, or to play with his friends. As his father always said, life in Korencia was hard. It hadn't rain for ages, and their crops had already been scrapped. But still, he was a young boy.

Taking his pants, full of holes and his shoes, their colors greyed out from the extensive use, he felt a bit dissapointed. He wanted toys, like those that were advertised on the radio, and new fresh clothes. But he couldn't demand them. The bruises in his cheeks from the last time he asked for a toy still hurt. He wasn't stupid to ask again.

"Come on you stupid clown, we need to get to the field before the sun rises! Why did God give us a useless kid like you!" said his father, Harry. An always angry man, his father would tell him how he didn't love him, how he was stupid. But he was used to eat. He no longer cried in his bed at night. His mother understood him though. She was kind, she was protective. The total opposite of his father and the rest of the family.

Climbing on the cart, his father whipped the horses, and thus begun the long journey towards the crop fields. The clouds of sand that popped out every now and then, got him to cough hard. His mother had taken him to Ikkaria a few days later. The doctors had said he had something called 'ama'. Or was it 'asthma'? But he didn't really care. He would only think about the hard work that was to come. And the snakes.

A few days ago, a deadly Koren Viper had appeared in the fields. While the local council warned the people not to go out for too long in bushy areas of the fields, his father had rejected all this as pure nonsense. Jonathan though didn't. While they though he was stupid, he could actually understand what was going on. His father was an idiot. The only good person in his family was his mother, and on a lesser extent, his grandmother.

They soon arrived to the field, yet another day of hard work. But the story of his hardships in the farm and the crop was a story to be told later.
Realm of Korencia


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