A Day in the Life (ATTN Tiandi)

by **Arumdaum** » Thu May 21, 2015 10:44 am

OOC: I thought it might be nice to have a slice of life RP since we don't have any serious RPs yet. They could give us a better idea of what life is like in our nations. Also, yeah, I know it's not summer yet. Just pretend my post takes place in like July or something or something. We can make stories that tie into each others'.

Summer.

The weather was getting unbearably warm, unbearably humid. At day, Hapcheon was drenched in the sweat of millions of ajeossi, unable to bear with the heat of an unusually hot summer. At night, the light scent of mosquito coils would drift out into the streets from the tens of millions of homes in the world's largest city. It seemed that the songs of the cicadas were finally drowning out that of the cheap nightclubs and the unrelenting streams of pop songs played over and over in restaurants and stores.

Park Yong-heon was at a cafe. He was waiting for a friend, someone he'd been meeting for a while now. The inside of the cafe was cool and air-conditioned; soft music played from the speakers. He sat at a table for two near one of the clear, glass walls, watching people taking lunch breaks, driving cars, maybe smoking a cigarette. He pressed his face against the glass, hot, but in a way that was nice and pleasing. Today was sunny - it had been raining for the past few days.

He felt a vibration in his pocket, and by instinct he immediately picked up his phone, unlocking it. It must be her.

It was her.

"Sorry I'm taking so long! I don't know what's wrong with the trains today! ㅠㅠ"

Yong-heon grinned.

"Are you sure you just don't want to see me? ㅋㅋㅋㅋ ㅠ.ㅜ" It'd only been a few minutes after the time they were supposed to meet; Yong-heon didn't mind waiting some more.

He spotted her around fifteen minutes later crossing the street. She looked nice, wearing a light dress and donning a summer hat. Her name was Lee Da-hae, and she had grown up in Ulsang province in the west. At times her dialect would come out by accident, usually when surprised or speaking quickly, which Yong-heon found cute. She was studying at Hapcheon University on a scholarship with a major in biological chemistry, and had recently obtained an internship at one of the university's research labs.

Yong-heon himself was not doing as successfully. He'd initially been rejected by the university - he had only gotten in after studying an extra year for the entrance examinations. He was currently staying with his aunt's family in Hapcheon; he had previously resided in Hanwon province, just north of the capital area.

"I'm sorry I'm late! You didn't wait for me too long, did you?"

"No, it was nothing. You've been doing well, right?"

"Yes. You too?"

by **Aedang Dai** » Thu May 21, 2015 5:10 pm

Pangoon, Zamayatdaw

"Maharrawady ee' aw baw maw aw mae!"

The Priest of the Ngarrhkuu cried out the first recital of the Prayer of Thcyahtawngyabhurarr Puhtoehcaytemyarr (the One-Thousand Paya within the Great Golden Kingdom) - or Thycah Phutoe for those not well versed in the names of the 1000 Prayers of the Jat Taw Baw (Gods who Govern), the principal prayers used by the monks in the Lower Zamayatdaw region, especially in the cities of the Maharrawady Delta - like Pangoon.

"Maharrawady ee' aw baw maw aw mae! Jawa jawa jawae!"

The second verse, translated as "O' governing spirits of the Maharrawady we due call upon! Bless this city!" was a call to the various water spirits that local tradition believed had protected the city of Pangoon since it's establishment.

O'obe, a boy of no more than 16 bowed as the Priest recited the prayer - he came to this very Paya courtyard every three days. Zamayatdaw was one of the last nations in Tiandi to practice the polytheistic, animistic, ancestor worshiping and shamanistic rituals and traditions of their ancestors, unlike other areas were mainstream religions had taken hold, the Yat peoples of Zamayatdaw had resisted and it was because of people like O'obe who gave the devotion and reverence commanded to the complex pantheon of deities and spirits.

The courtyard was surrounded by a low wall, with a pond filled with catfish on the inside, and bamboo growing from the pond. The courtyard was made from cobblestone, obsidian, and marble bricks - the various colours were arranged in the form of the God Ngarrkhuu, which the Paya was dedicated to. At the head of the courtyard was the shrine, and behind that was the Priests quarters.

The ceremony ended, and O'obe picked up the basket of citrus that was next to him. He stepped out of the courtyard and onto the brick sidewalk just outside it. Pangoon was located on various islands on the Maharrawady Delta, as such there were no cars and everyone got along by foot or boat through the thousands of canals throughout the city. O'obe stepped onto his boat that was tied up just besides the sidewalk.

He sailed through the canals towards the market were he would sell his wares - the canals were crowded in the early morning and the market more so - the market was actually on the water. He pulled his boat into the dockspace he owned and placed his wares on the dock - then people like savage and wild animals quickly pulled up to his makeshift store. Within minutes he had to restock - if you got to the market at the right time you would make a lot of money.

Uh oh - in the corner of his eye he could see the Man as the market community called him - he was a radical republican, a leftover from the military coup in the early 80's that was overthrown. He had not been picked up by the Royal City Guard, though the market community had reported him, ever since the "Purge of the National Traitors" by King Pagan X after he defeated the rebels.

In the other corner of his eye he could see one of the City Guard, the Man was passing out anti-monarchy fliers. The Guard took notice. Within seconds a whole bunch of them converged on him, and beat him to the ground before handcuffing him and carting him off in a Police Boat. It was so quick and decisive that you would never know he was their, afterwards a Guard came around and burned all the fliers he had handed out.

by **Senkaku** » Thu May 21, 2015 7:09 pm

Xianjing Special Administrative Zone
North Outer Ring Road District
83rd Ward (Beiwaiqu)

As usual, the heat was unbearable. Xianjing in the summer was as brutally hot as she was brutally cold in the winter, especially in the Outer Ring Road districts far from the lakes and parks near the city center that made the climate more mild there, and surrounded by acres of concrete and asphalt that seemed to constantly radiate the heat they'd stored during the day. Chao felt sure he was sweating through his clothes as he climbed into his little blue Hongqi CA75. The little black car's engine sputtered like it normally did before cycling up, and Chao threw the stickshift into reverse, pulling carefully out of his parking space. Above him, as the sky slowly turned from orange and blue to darker black with the onset of twilight, the 43rd Ward Party Licensing Commission Building loomed nine stories. The blocky, concrete office building's windows still burned with light, and hundreds of people were doubtless toiling away on the mountain of paperwork that always faced them.
As as his custom, Dong Chao headed back to his apartment on the Outer Ring Road, sitting through traffic with barely controlled impatience and frustration. It seemed there were a million identical CA75s looking to get home to their apartments, as well as motor scooters belonging to factory workers and the occasional nicer car of some Party boss, all beeping and jamming the Outer Ring Road as the sultry twilight deepened the shadows around them. The harsh white streetlamps made everything look like some prison courtyard or hospital operating room, casting the river of cars in an eerie flat light as they slowly swam upstream to their various destinations.

As he crept along the Outer Ring Road, he found his eyes wandering, looking around at the endless rank upon rank of blocky apartment buildings, occasionally interspersed with local department stores, parks, schools, and the odd factory here or there. The outer wards, outside the city proper, were all alike- sweeping tracts of land gobbled up by row upon row of apartments, built into little self-contained units within units with parks and schools and department stores, separated by the usual Political Security checkpoints. Chao had been to the inner regions of the city, inside the Third Ring Road, several times. Xianjing proper was more than just block after identical block of drab concrete buildings. The city was an ancient imperial capital, and despite the damage that had been visited on her over the centuries and during the Great War and the Revolution, there were still spectacular relics of the imperial era left behind. The Imperial Palace, Red Square and the Imperial Tombs, the old mansions and parks now converted into spaces for public enjoyment, and, of course, the newer sites, such as the towering Mausoleum of Shen Dejin, the Great Hall of the People, and the Liberation Monument.
Chao felt his phone buzz in his pocket as traffic ground to a halt once again.
"Hello?"
"Comrade Dong?"
It was the voice of his coworker, An Meilin, her silvery tones carrying even through Chao's cheap plastic phone's poorly made speakers.
"Comrade An? How are you?", he said, feeling slightly nervous. Meilin worked at the desk across from him, and was extremely pretty. From the few brief conversations he'd had with her, he'd found out that she, like himself, had risen into the Party from a peasant family too, escaping a village near Qiangyang and coming to the capital. She was around his age too, only 19- by far the two youngest people in their section of the office. He'd never had the nerve to talk to her more than that, though- and besides, work and his studies kept him busy enough. Passing the Fourth Tier Party Civilian Positioning Exam was a formidable challenge, and he had been studying for months in preparation.
"I'm quite well. You're taking the Fourth Tier exams, right?"
"Yes, I am," Chao said with a hint of pride.
"Actually, in all honesty I was wondering if you'd like to study together? I'm taking it as well and my roommate, who I usually study with, is deferring hers while she moves to Luhai."
Chao swallowed. "That'd be lovely," he said, smiling despite the fact Meilin could not see him. Traffic started again, then stopped quickly- it looked like something was going on at the inter-ward checkpoint up ahead. "Is there a time and place you were thinking of for meeting?"
"How does eight o'clock sound tomorrow? I was just thinking the cafeteria, I talked to Lao and he said it'd be fine." Lao, their supervisor, was a kindly old man who had been in the Party since he was just a boy, right after the Revolution.
"That'd be great," Chao said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as traffic continued to sit still.

Up ahead, at the checkpoint, the Political Security man smiled kindly at Sheng, who sighed.
"This is embarrassing," he said, shaking his head.
"Not to worry, sir. We have every Party member's data on file, it'll just take a few more minutes. The computer has been having some trouble lately." Sheng nodded, sipping the small paper cup of water he'd been provided with while he waited. It looked like a new arrival was being brought in- and not just some factory worker or bureaucrat like him. A nice-looking car was being pulled around to the checkpoint's little impound, and outside the holding cell, in the entrance and processing chamber, a man dressed in the red clothes of a senior Party member was standing, gesticulating as he talked. Sheng found himself listening in on what they were saying as the sound passed easily through the window between the rooms.
"Why on earth does Political Security have a warrant out for me? I have identification, look here-"
"Mr. Song, please contain yourself," the Political Security officer hissed. "A warrant is a warrant. It was issued by the Central Disciplinary Commission, and I expect they will explain why it was issued. Now please follow Corporal Qi into the holding area, there will be a CDC car sent to pick you up."
"Lieutenant, is it really worth your while to try and enforce this silly CDC warrant on me? It could be much better for you if you were to note-"
"Corporal Qi," the lieutenant said in a raised voice. "Please escort Comrade Song to the private holding cell. I will make a note of his threat and offer to bribe my person."
Song started spluttering, and now Sheng, along with several of the others in the main holding cell, were actively trying to get a better view. The lieutenant appeared to finally get tired of the man's excuses, reaching over with a small crackling stun gun and knocking him out.

As Qi dragged Song's limp form towards the private holding cell entrance, the lieutenant glanced down out the computer. "Comrade Fu?"
Sheng stood. "The database found your information. You're free to go."

A minute or so later, Chao sighed in relief as traffic started moving again. He handed his ID over to the tired-looking Political Security attendant, who stuck his card under the UV scanner.
"Dong Chao?"
"Yes."
"Going to your residence in the 44th Ward?"
"Correct."
"Alright, Comrade. Have a good night," the man said with a tired smile.
"You too," Chao said, and rolled his window up.

by **Sabara** » Thu May 21, 2015 10:50 pm

Lei Mak Ward
Greater Minghoi, Meisaan

The sky ringed with an eerie buzzing of electricity, lightning flashing between low fog banks and tall office buildings. It was an interesting spectacle for those in the streets below, waiting for the inevitable raindrops. Soon enough they came: but not in the usual perpetual drizzle the city often experienced. This time, the water fell in literal sheets, soaking anyone unlucky enough to be out in the open. Pedestrians, vendors, and children rushed indoors; back to the relative safety of their homes. Although visitors remained ignorant, locals recognized the storm as the beginning of the toifung (typhoon) season.

Cheong Manseok was not one of those locals, nor even a seasoned tourist. The young Jeongmian exchange student from the far northern province of Icheong had never experienced the fickle weather of temperate Samgok, so she was caught off guard by this sudden downpouring. Her host family lived in one of the many different "Wutungs" of mid-ring Minghoi. These traditional Meisaani- "courtyard houses" resembled some of their counterparts in neighboring countries, albeit with a distinctive flair. When space became scarce in the densely populated region, carpenters began building up - resulting in the tall and patchwork-like structures that blanketed residential Minghoi. Although some of these complexes originated during the 18th and 17th centuries, most of the new stories were constructed in the early 20th and 19th centuries. As a result, leaks sometimes occurred during storms due to the differing lengths and roof materials.

It shocked Manseok that her Meisaani family didn't even seem to notice the storm, but she figured that they had become used to expecting this kind of behavior from the weather during Summer. Turning back from her perch on the windowsill, she noticed that her host mother was preparing a meal. Asking to help in awkward Meisaani, she was politely accepted, with a finger pointing to the door. Manseok took this to mean that a trip to the supermarket with her "brother" would be helpful. Her host mother, leaving the rice-cooker for a split second, patted Manseok on the shoulder before returning to her task. Manseok took that to mean that her "mother" appreciated the gesture

Manseok and her host family, although distant at first, had become increasingly more comfortable with each other. It also helped that Manseok's Meisaani was improving dramatically. Manseok occasionally called her parents back in Icheong, but she had gotten over the homesick phase and was enjoying her time in the foreign country. It was much too insular and sheltered in that small town she had grown up in, much too small for an older, high-school aged girl. Although her parents were a bid reluctant at first to send her so far away from town, they eventually consented. Great luck for Manseok.

After walking through the small yet pristine kitchen area, Manseok gently pushed open the bamboo and carbon plastic door into the narrow hallway. She was going to meet her "brother" (who was returning from an athletic competition) at the supermarket. Gently closing the entrance and waving to her "mother", Manseok quickly stepped through the plank-wood floor, into the tiny lift, which carried her to the anteroom, or "welcome gate", of the wutung. The back of the "welcome gate" opened to a small courtyard area, complete with a playground and Zen garden.

Before stepping through the door of the complex's entrance, Manseok grabbed her cellphone and texted her "brother", reminding him of their meeting. Afterwards, she sidestepped over to the button which opened the antiquidated sliding glass door, pressed it open, and walked into the soaking wet air of a Minghoi thunderstorm.

by **Zhouran** » Fri May 22, 2015 6:11 am

Ouyang, Capital Municipality, People's Republic of Zhouran

Zhouran is known internationally for its harsh climate. Currently the nation is facing a scorching hot summer, despite the fact that Zhouran is located up north.

In a hot, clear and sunny Friday afternoon, Fan Hanyun, a high-school student currently in Year 3 of Higher Secondary, was simply lying down on the sofa in the living room, napping. Since summer vacation in Zhouran starts in mid-July, it was already the start of the holiday. A few hours ago Fan had arrived home after school. She was so tired that she lied down on the sofa and quickly fell to sleep. Her parents, who had left earlier ago to go to Hexie, had switched on all the fans and air conditioners. When Fan opened the door, she was welcomed by cold air.

Fan and her family live a luxurious apartment reserved for military families and rich business families. Her father is a colonel in the Zhouranese People's Army Air Force while her mother is a neurologist. To Fan, this was hard for her, since her father wanted her to be an officer while her mother wanted her to study medicine. In the end, Fan had wanted to be a chef, which surprised her parents.

As sunset appeared, Fan had woke up from her nap. Because her parents won't be back until Monday, she has the entire weekends to herself. As she changed to her casual clothing, in which her clothing style were considered "boyish" for a girl like her, Fan stepped outside the apartment, only to be welcomed by hot humid air, despite the fact that the sun went down.

The streets were packed with people. Kids, teenagers, adults, elderlies, and even military personnel, were all enjoying themselves outside. Good vibe was everywhere and people were just simply socializing. Fan, although she had little friends to hang out with, could still feel the positiveness around her.

Not far from the apartment was a busy arcade. She began walking towards the place, with her pockets filled with enough coins to play for hours.

by **Toishima** » Fri May 22, 2015 7:48 am

Asakaze
Imperial Akitsukunese Navy guided missile destroyer 171
Sea of Akitsukuni

The Sea of Akitsukuni was the area between the North Yashima Archipelago and the Chōsen peninsula. It was one of the safest open seas available for the Imperial Navy to roam in, the expanse of waters technically belonging wholly to Akitsukuni, without dispute since Eulhae. Though free of human aggressors, nature itself often proved to be the biggest enemy in the area. The typhoon season was beginning, and while it licked the coasts of Meisaan to the west and lashed the islands of Cyllea to the south, the Akitsukunese were always hit harder than the rest due to their central position in the regional ocean. Be it typhoons, earthquakes, tsunamis or volcanic eruptions, the North Yashima Archipelago was notorious for its high risk of natural disasters, and the coast of Chōsen was no safe place either. The Akitsukunese spin-doctors naturally used this as an allegory for the strength of their people and tests from the gods, except when they thwarted enemy invasions, in which case they were gifts.

Hard sheets of rain pounded the deck of the Asakaze, second in her class of guided missile destroyers, the name painted on the side in hiragana, along with the ship number. One of the larger warships in the Empire's arsenal, the vessel rolled in the violent surf, aerials whipping in the strong winds. Though soaked through with rain, the unforgiving winds forced the heavy Rising Sun flag to flutter, illuminated by the occasional lightning flash. The sky was darkened by clouds, as though it were night, though in the distance the sun forced its way through like some heavenly patch on the realm of mortals, just beyond the futile reach of man's inventions. Shame on the man for trying to usurp the power of nature. What good were 127mm guns, ASROCs, SSMs and SAMs against the fury of the waves?

The heaviest irony here was that the class of ships was named after legendary winds in Akitsukunese - or even Yashimese - mythology, and was now being buffeted by meters-high waves that were products of these winds.

Sub-lieutenant Tōji Suzuhara nonetheless stood on the bow, pelted by the endless raindrops and the occasional buckets of water washed over the deck, clad in his near-useless thin plastic rain poncho and soaked grey-blue Imperial Navy camouflage uniform. It was as useful as camouflage as it was at protecting him from the rain. Suzuhara peered over the side of the ship with a pair of binoculars, struggling to see through the near-whiteout, pierced only by the sweeping searchlight that revealed nothing but frightening, black waves. Imperial Navy legend claimed that the souls of wrecked Eulhae War ships remained in the area, patrolling forever and desperately searching for their contemporary namesakes to reclaim their stolen names. Suzuhara knew they were just old sake den stories, but his heart still raced when Lieutenant Kiyoyasu reminded him that the cruiser Asakaze was sunk by a Jeongmian torpedo in 1934 in this very area.

Despite the adverse weather, or perhaps because of it, foreign fishermen sprang into action during this time to get at the rich fishing zones within the Sea of Akitsukuni. The Coast Guard could only catch so many, and the Navy had to be called in sometimes to turn these people back to wherever they came from, usually Cyllea or Meisaan. Suzuhara cursed them for his current position, scanning the waves for the origin of a distress signal they had received while outrunning the storm just two hours ago. Captain Akiyama's humanity prevailed against his crew's warnings, something that would likely be reported in news all over the region supposing they did find this 'lost' Meisaan fisherman.

The ship was suddenly rocked violently by a wave, nearly knocking Suzuhara off his feet and overboard. He gripped the railing with all his might, the binoculars caught by the strap around his neck. Icy salt water surged into his rain poncho, stinging his already numb flesh. Lightning flashed and a shadow was suddenly cast across the dark sea. Someone let out a yell from the machine gun mount a few metres away. Squinting, Suzuhara thought he saw it as well, a black shape against a black background.

Boat!

"Bridge, bridge, Sub-Lieutenant Suzuhara. I have seen something about 100 metres off the port bow," Suzuhara yelled into the waterproof radio, trying to be louder than the endless din of the storm. A response came in but Suzuhara could not hear it due to interference and the background noise. Suzuhara grabbed his optics and stared in the direction, the searchlight panning over to it excruciatingly slowly.

Just about a hundred metres away was the shape of a small civilian vessel being tossed by the waves, a small Meisaani flag only barely visible flapping around in the wind. A single light was on the tiny vessel, a stark contrast to the heavily lighted, much larger destroyer. The Sub-Lieutenant thought the boat may support only three or four fishermen, daring men indeed who had come so far to steal Akitsukuni's fish supply. Suzuhara also worried that the fishermen may attempt to flee, if they were still alive. The sudden appearance of a heavily-armed warship with Akitsukunese markings was rarely welcomed by the other peoples in the region throughout history.

The Asakaze decided to fight the storm with all its fury, letting loose a deafening roar that cut through the storm. Suzuhara winced as the foghorn blasted three times. He gripped the railing with his left hand while staring at the fishing boat with the binoculars in his right. The wind blew back his poncho hood, and rainwater started dribbling down his already wet back. The situation was too exciting for him to rectify the problem.

After what seemed like an eternity, a much softer and more shrill foghorn replied, followed by the flashing of a green light in the universal Jin-tae Code for help. As the destroyer neared the fishing boat, Suzuhara could make out a single figure standing on the stern, gripping a railway-style lamp with conviction. Despite the distance, the Akitsukunese sailor thought he had made eye contact with what was essentially his Meisaani civilian counterpart today. He felt a sudden desire to help the rain-whipped man a hundred metres away, all earlier hatred evaporating.

Against nature, man had to stand with his fellow man.

Someone fired a red flare from the rear deck of the Asakaze to illuminate the area. As the bright red orb began casting its crimson light on both vessels, Suzuhara remembered he was not alone out here, dripping with rain and desperately searching for lives to save. He looked to his right, where Lieutenant Kiyoyasu himself smiled back at him, a lit cigarette somehow surviving the extremely wet conditions. The torrent was too loud to speak, so his superior only offered him an approving thumbs-up, one of those quirky symbols of approval imported from the western colonies in the past.

"Boarding party!" A loudhailer struggled to make itself audible, as three of the on-board security detail attempted to swagger across the deck, submachine guns hanging off their waists and magazines of ammunition in their LBVs. SNLF marine washouts, the whole lot of them, and they had very few chances to really act as the soldiers they would like to be. The Asakaze had no helicopter facilities and was not carrying any at the moment, so they would have to board the fishing boat the old fashioned way, just like the Samurai of centuries past.

The strong waves made it very difficult to approach the boat, but they managed to eventually. Over the side went securing ropes and across went the gorillas with guns. Suzuhara watched from the deck as the three men landed on the boat. The Meisaani man who had been on the deck approached them and greeted the boarders, though neither side understood each other. The boarding team made their way belowdecks and the man was pulled over onto the Asakaze.

In all, the rescue was done in just ten minutes, with four men recovered from the boat, two injured. Towing the boat, the Imperial Navy destroyer quickly pointed its way out of the storm. Suzuhara was ordered to accompany the Meisaani citizens in the infirmary though he could not understand their language - the lower ranks always got the bad jobs. Captain Akiyama actually made an appearance at one point, greeting the exhausted Meisaani fishermen with a butchered greeting probably from a 200-en phrasebook from some newsstand.

In the infirmary, Suzuhara collapsed into a foldable plastic chair, the air conditioning turning his soaked skin ice-cold. The fishermen were provided hot food, Suzuhara was not. The Meisaani man who was on the deck sat opposite him, while the other three were ushered to bunks. Both stared at each other for a while. The contrast was not that great, besides the fact that one was dressed in full military attire while the other was in a T-shirt and shorts. Both were soaked through and had just survived being exposed to the storm, though Suzuhara knew the fisherman had been exposed far longer than he had been. He immediately started assuming the man was from a poor village or one of the Gaidao islands based on the state of his boat and his appearance.

Then the fisherman smiled, took out a smartphone in a sealable plastic bag and pointed upwards. Suzuhara was taken aback. Perhaps I'm too prejudiced, huh?

"我們可以接收手機信號?"

Suzuhara did not understand, but waved his hand ambiguously before laying down on the table. He just wanted to sleep for now.

by **Senkaku** » Sat May 23, 2015 2:07 pm

Xianjing Special Administrative Zone
Central District
2nd Ward (Zhongxinqu)
Central Economic Planning Commission Main Office (CentPlanCom)

"Comrade Yuan?"
Yuan Chuanli turned around expectantly, his eyes flicking down the hallway to find the source of the voice calling him.
"Comrade Vice-Commissioner? How can I help you?"
"I just wanted to let you know your presentation this morning was excellent," Vice-Commissioner Wong said evenly, his powerful stride soon putting him next to his young protégé. Wong Geming was an old man at this point, with white hair and wire-rimmed spectacles, but he remained an important main here in the offices of the Central Economic Planning Commission. "Would you care to walk with me to the meeting?"
"It would be my pleasure, Comrade Vice-Commissioner," Chuanli said with a slight smile.
"Also, in regards to this morning's presentation- I'd also just like your opinion on CA75 production levels. Do you think export demand is high enough to meet production goals?"
"To be frank, I don't think it is, but the production goals themselves are what concern me the most. Given the decrease in the excess amount of iron produced beyond quota and the increased price of rubber, as well as all the other general impediments to production, I'm not sure out current production goals will be fully met, which would be very disappointing."
The Vice-Commissioner looked pensive. "Interesting. I'll be sure to raise that point with the other Vice-Commissioners and Commissioner Chu. How is your life beyond work? Didn't you say your girlfriend was being posted to Jeongmi?"
"Yes, she leaves in a month. Technically she's a cultural attaché, but she told me she'll be serving in some capacity for the Special Intelligence Department's residency- she's very excited."
Geming raised his eyebrows. "Indeed? Most impressive. She must have worked hard to receive a posting of such importance."
Chuanli nodded, smiling. "She's very proud. Obviously it will be hard, but she's very excited. And Mei has never been one to shirk her duty, anyways. How is your own family?"
Geming sighed. "My grandson is taking his secondary school exams, so my daughter is all fussed about that. Meanwhile my son is in Niyala for business- horrid place, I wish he didn't have to go."
"In Niyala? For business?" Chuanli looked surprised.
"Something with some shipping clan there. Those clans control half the ships in Zhongzhou-and all the pirates too- and you can't just float clothes across the ocean once they leave the factory, or let the ships they're on get captured." He shook his head. "He'll be safe, I'm sure, but everyone is just worried. My wife, like any mother, is particularly wound up about it."
"I'm sure my mother would be worried if I ever had to go to Niyala," Chuanli said, looking surprised and slightly apprehensive even at the mention of the country.
"How is she?"
"Doing better. I managed to get her the antibiotics, and she can call the doctor now instead of having to walk or bike to his office."
Geming raised an eyebrow. "That is... Fortunate."
"Plus, I think I'm going to be able to get them a used car! My father will be excited- he can't drive, but my aunt can teach him, and he loves cars. It'll just be a CA75, but it'll be the only one in the village."
Geming nodded, looking uneasy as his young friend continued on whatever latest gifts he'd sent home to his little village near Beichang. He glanced around the hall, looking for bugs or cameras, and then, seeing none, paused. Chuanli stopped immediately as well.
"Is something wrong, Comrade Vice-Commissioner?"
Geming's old, gravelly voice was grave as he spoke quietly to his protégé. "Chuanli, I cannot protect you forever from the CDC. You need to be much more careful about this siphoning-off back to your family and your village. You're not the only one who could be hurt if they catch you, and they are searching very hard for people like you now. The Chairman was not joking with that speech."
Chuanli's face immediately became an impassive mask.
"Understood, Comrade Vice-Commissioner. I will make sure to be more discreet about my activities."

by **New Maraium** » Sat May 23, 2015 2:30 pm

Istabul, Summer

Icyoh callled his freind in the Holy Bulgarian Empire.

"You're oming to Istabul?" He says.

"Yeah! Were above the airport."

After a few hors, Icyoh Bucchi Met is freind in Istabul, Maraium.

For absoluetly no reason, police took Icyoh and shot him. His freind, Kabal, was outraged, and stepped out and shot the governer and was later slain. He also shot the prime minister on his second shot.

by **Arumdaum** » Sat May 23, 2015 2:34 pm

New Maraium wrote:-snip-

OOC: This thread is for members of Tiandi only.

by **Senkaku** » Sat May 23, 2015 6:29 pm

Prancing Phoenix, Part One

936 CE

Changyang
Qinghu Lake Park
Imperial North District (Huangbeiqu)
1st Inner Ward
Mansion of the Chancellor
Pavilion of Perfect Brightness

Changyang was, as ever, breathtakingly beautiful, even though she could only see parts of it. From the Pavilion of Perfect Brightness, on an artificial island in the midst of the Qinghu Lake, Li-Mei could see only the outer city, rising up on a ring of hills around the slightly lower urban core. Every house was ablaze with lights now, as the sun's last rays struggled to make it any distance up into the western sky and the heavens turned blue-black with night's inevitable advance. From a better vantage point- the Chentian Gate on the outer walls, for example- the city would look like one vast, glowing carpet, spreading out across the land and bursting out of her walls, constantly bustling with countless thousands of people even as twilight gave way to night. The blazingly hot day had given way to a pleasantly sultry evening, where the air felt soft with warmth and humidity, and overhead the first stars were sparkling in the summer sky.
Gang came over from where most people were mingling, down by the barge where some of the men were reciting poetry.
"You should come over! Qiang and Shan promised to fence for the benefit of us civilian types later," he said with a chuckle, reclining on the couch across from her.
"Well, I wouldn't want to miss that, would I?", she said, taking a sip of her wine and sitting up. "Shall we, Chancellor Yin?", she inquired, extending a perfectly formed hand. As she raised her arm, airy, almost transparent blue silk floated up like smoke, disturbed by the movement from its rest, and the kingfisher feathers that gleamed all along her arms gleamed in the faint light of the pavilion's lamps.
Gang smiled, standing and politely taking her hand to help her up. Li-Mei felt slightly ridiculous in her costume, but it was just one of the things she had become used to- and besides, everyone here was wearing something almost equally fanciful. She was supposed to be a kingfisher or exotic bird, had kingfisher-feather wings and trailing sheets of this near-transparent silk, with scarcely anything besides a few pearls, sapphires, and opals hiding her nipples and womanhood, connected to the rest of her costume by gilded strings set with rubies to accentuate her hips and breasts. Gang was some type of fish from the southern sea, with elaborate red silk splotched with green and blue, worked with gold embroidered patterns that gave it a shimmering quality. His silk covered none of his chest and stomach and only part of his arms- although thankfully he was still in excellent physical condition. On another man, the costume would have looked appallingly bad. He had also had his entire chest and stomach painted in gold leaf, for good measure. Their other friends were wearing similarly expensive and absurd costumes, from stories and legends or from different places across the world. The younger Prince Xiang had even come as a Rygyali chief, in saffron robes, feathers, and a painted face, while even the older men and women had come in clothes that probably could have bought Li-Mei's entire home village. Gang had inherited the lake and the park and the property- those came with being Chancellor- but he had built this island with its silver trees and jade rocks and golden, gleaming pavilions. The pleasure barge that was now docked at the solid jade dock, entirely made of sandalwood and ivory with silken drapes and gilded furniture, was his.

Not for the first time, Li-Mei reflected on how very far she had come. From Zhenzhuangyen, then Nanqiu and then to Changyang and old Madame Wu, and now- she did not know what would come now. She knew Gang was infatuated with her- the young rising star at court, the new Chancellor, was infatuated with a country girl from Nanqiushi, a prostitute from the Red Lamp District- but she had no idea what that would mean for her. She was already rich from the presents he'd given her, but Gang was not married.

Not for the first time, Li-Mei wondered if she was living in a dream. After all, stories like this only happen in dreams. Girls like me never marry men like him. But it seemed Gang might not share her doubts- he gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek as they headed down from the pavilion, towards where Prince Xiang and the rest of the party were mingling near the pleasure barge and the tables and couches that had been set up for them- all sandalwood, of course. Every table was piled high with every manner of delicacy or with great bowls of wine, and some people looked nearly comatose on the eating couches already.
Li-Mei took another sip of her wine, feeling a sudden fiery sense of pleasure. This was her life, at least for now, and she intended to enjoy it.

First, let Gang know I'm not upset or anything.
As they headed over to the tables and Gang started chatting with the Prince Xiang, she turned around, as if looking around for something. In reality, from behind her gauzy silken veil, she was murmuring into Gang's ear.
"Later I want you to fuck me in that costume until I can't stand, and..."
She trailed off into more obscene murmurs, feeling Gang's breathing shorten slightly as he continued talking to Prince Xiang. Everyone, including her, was quite drunk- an entire late afternoon and evening spent drinking did that- and Xiang made some drunken jape they both guffawed crudely at, and headed off to chat with others.
The Chancellor's hand had, without either of them seemingly noticing, found its way to cup the underside of her breast. She pulled herself away from his grip fairly easily, watching with the amused anticipation of cat who has trapped her prey as he walked to be beside her, an arm snaking around her waist.
But it seemed General Tuan had managed to spot Gang- not that it was hard, in his absurd costume- and intercepted them before Li-Mei could enact the next stage of her plan. She stood demurely next to Gang as they talked, mostly about serious matters, noticing his arm creeping around her waist.

Gang, for his part, was in a terrible position. He had a beautiful, pliant woman, a woman he loved, on his arm who was murmuring extremely indecent suggestions into his ear as to what they should really be doing- and in front of him, some grumpy old general, trying to get a rare chance to talk to him directly about things he would normally shunt off to his aides and undressing what few clothes Li-Mei was wearing with his eyes, for good measure. He was beginning to feel somewhat strained as Li-Mei gave him a particularly far-fetched idea, and took another sip of his wine.
"I will be absolutely sure to look into it, general. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. If you'll excuse me, I think I should retire to the tables- my head is starting to pound a bit," he said with a rueful grin.
The general chuckled as the music continued in the background from the pleasure barge. "Well, you've certainly drunk far more wine than I ever could. The blessings of youth are many. And, also..." he gave a quick wink, and Gang grinned while Li-Mei pretended not to notice.

"The tables, my lord Chancellor?", she said as they headed towards a recliner by one of the tables, this one piled high with dumplings and potstickers of every variety. "Not the best place to fuck my brains out, in my expert opinion."
"Oh, if you really want to I'm sure we could figure it out," Gang said, a hand sliding down her back. His breathing was faster now, and she found herself smiling. He really must've had a lot to drink.
"Perhaps we should wait. I'm not sure the Prince Xiang would approve."
"Xiang would be fine about it, but you're probably right." He sighed. "Later, then."
"Well, we can still enjoy ourselves," she said as they lay down and began eating.
He gave an incoherent response, mouth already full of the delicious delicacies arrayed across the table, and waved at a servant to refill their wine.

It was nearly morning, based on the drum towers, and Li-Mei was, once again, feeling absolutely ridiculous. She could barely stand thanks to the wine and the fucking Gang had given her after the party, and was still dressed in her decadent and lascivious costume. Thankfully he'd summoned a palanquin for her, but now she was having to get out and lean on this poor Gold Bird Guard for support as she handed his captain her ivory curfew pass. The young Guard was positively sweating, understandably- a wealthy, beautiful, highly intoxicated courtesan was currently leaning against him. She had no doubt he would be telling all his friends about the encounter the next day, but the captain simply nodded, managing to keep his eyes off her exposing costume, and he and his subordinate helped her back into the palanquin and went back into the ward gate tower to let them through.
"Qi," she called to her guard, "was that the last gate?"
"One more, Lady Ru."
Li-Mei groaned, and Qi, sounding worried, said something.
"What?"
"I asked if the Lady Ru would prefer I show her curfew pass so she can remain in the palanquin."
"Yes... Yes. Do that. Here." She fumbled for the pass, sticking it through the curtain and waving it about. "Take it now so I don't forget." She felt someone pluck it lightly from her hand, and drifted off to sleep.

She was awoken by a gentle hand shaking her shoulder.
"Lady Ru, we are here."
"Qi? What? Where are we?"
"At the Prancing Phoenix, lady."
"Of course." She grunted, swinging her legs and nearly falling out of the palanquin before Qi caught her. Landing in his arms with a grunt, she felt her head loll back before the eunuch's hand reached around to support her neck, some of the gilded strings stretching and snapping and sending gems falling from her left side. "Carry me up to my room, and put me in bed," she managed.
Qi silently assented, and while the world spun and blurred around her, he carried her into the Prancing Phoenix, up the stairs to the womens' quarters, and into her room, depositing her in her bed.
"Is there anything else?"
"Uhhh," she grunted, shaking her head. He bowed and retreated, and a minute or so later she could hear his booming voice saying something- probably making the bearers give him the jewels she'd dropped.

The last thought that ran through her head before she fell asleep was that her kingfisher feathers had reflected Prince Xiang's saffron robes quite strangely.

by **Senkaku** » Sat May 23, 2015 9:57 pm

Prancing Phoenix, Part Two

936 CE

Changyang
Palace District (Gongqu)
Taming Palace
Palace of the Regencies
Court of the Kingfishers

The beating heart of the greatest empire since long-dead Tianqi pulsed more slowly in the searing heat that baked Changyang during the day. The Court of the Kingfishers had, like the rest of the Taming, tremendous variance in temperature. In offices and indoors, pipes filled with cool water from the Wei River, busily fanning servants, and thick, insulating walls provided a modicum of relief. However, out in the courtyards and gardens, and on the polo and game field, the air was stiflingly hot, and the unusually high humidity made it feel like someone was trying to suffocate you with a hot, wet towel. In the shaded hallways it was only slightly cooler, and hot winds occasionally gusted through the deserted corridors. Most people remained indoors in the heat, while the emperor and the imperial family had gone to the Summer Palace to escape it.

Gang was presently very much wishing he could be back in his relatively cool office. Now, as the heat peaked in the mid-afternoon, his presence was being requested at a meeting regarding some issue with steppe raiders attacking a border settlement. That meant he would have to go over to the Court of the Lions, which meant either riding in a palanquin and feeling as though he were being baked in an oven, or walking and being baked in a slightly less claustrophobic one.

At present, he was walking through one of the many little gardens interspersed in the Palace of the Regencies, where the thousands of bureaucrats and military officers who ran the central administration of the empire worked and in some cases lived. The trees were utterly still in the baking sun, providing little shade as the angry sphere stared almost straight down on Gang, who was sweating in his black silk. He was almost to the Court of the Lions, though, and he could see the Dragon's Head peeking up over the rooftops ahead of him, the banners of every army in the country flying over it.
A few minutes later, he finally entered the huge military headquarters, gratefully accepting some blessedly cool water from a servant and a fresh peach.
Biting into the peach immediately, he headed to the elevator, the servant releasing a ball into the slot outside.
"I'm going to the fifth story."
The servant nodded. Gang had no idea that the ball would fall and strike a gong to tell servants below to get their oxen moving- he just knew that dropping the ball into the slot was required to make this lovely device work. It took him perhaps a minute to ascend in the slow-moving elevator to the floor his meeting was on, and the elevator jerked to a stop- the servant, knowing roughly how long it took for the vehicle to ascend, dropped another ball into the slot.
The Chancellor stepped out, marching purposefully into the room where several generals were arrayed before him.
"So, I was told there was some kind of steppe raid?"
Song Bingwen, the Supreme Commander of the Northwestern Frontier and an old friend of Gang's, nodded, also eating a peach. "Steppe riders broke through the Jianzhenguan Pass. It's not the most heavily defended of the Twenty-Six Fortresses, but it is concerning. My commanders on the front say they have the riders contained and will soon destroy them without significant issues, but they are asking for reinforcements to strengthen the Long Wall's garrison."
"How many reinforcements?"
Ren Daiyan, Commander of the Imperial Army Reserve, piped up. "30,000 troops, including a hubing unit of 1,000 troops."
Gang exhaled sharply, putting his hands on the table to lean against it. "Well. Do you believe they're necessary, Commanders?"
Li Changpu, one of the most senior generals in the room and commander of the Rygyal Pacification Army, nodded. "We have all agreed it would be helpful. These troops also allow Bingwen's commanders to strike and be more proactive in their defense, and given the emperor's recent rumblings about perhaps launching an incursion onto the steppe they would reduce the amount of setup required- especially since hubing units would be present."
"Sending tiger soldiers to the Long Wall is not usually done," Gang pointed out.
"They will adjust," Bingwen said. "They are trained to." He took another bite of his peach, shooting Gang a meaningful glance.
Changpu nodded. "Chancellor Yin, I would highly recommend authorizing this request."
Gang shrugged. "I don't really have any reason to be saying no to you right now. The authorization should get over here by this evening- assuming my runners don't all die trying to bring it over in this damn heat," he joked. "If there was nothing else, I may return to the Court of the Kingfishers, then."
"I don't think so," General Li said, and Bingwen took another bite of his peach.

by **Zangsabaar** » Sun May 24, 2015 12:41 pm

Yalkutta Regional Junior Women's Volleyball Championship,
South Spear Beach,
Nandalay, Yalkutta Region, Zangsabaar

The sun was setting on the courts as the hollering of fans died down. The championship match had just finished and the consolation match for third place was at its' peak. Luna Ranapat was representing Kinae-Kyong District, an old region named after the Hasujin city by the same name. Kinae-Kyong was Nandalay's largest energy sector, possessing 3 of the city's 5 nuclear plants, home to a growing middle class, including Luna's family.

The Ranapat family owned the largest retail store in Kinae-Kyong's Kokyusi Mall (named after a Hasujin Emperor), they were second-generation Heongjun immigrants that were well known in Kinae-Kyong as being a large family with over 45 members. Luna's father however was a simple factory manager in the energy sector, thus volleyball was her route to a paid-higher education. The winner of today's tournament would not only be given a ʑ2,000 reward (~$1500) but also would move onto the National Tournament, in which the top team would all receive a fully-paid sports scholarship. Unfortunately Luna had to win her current match to even qualify.

There was 10 minutes left in the game, and as her family cheered from the stands Luna served the ball high into the air, smashing down onto her opponents, just before being redirected towards the Kinae team's side. A teammate dove, saving the ball as a collective sigh was heard from the audience. She would then volley the ball to Mai, a Sabaraan girl, who then proceeded to smash the ball into the enemy team's court. The game was tied as the ball went back and forth. With 30 seconds left in the game, Luna had now rotated to the front-centre where she was the middle-blocker. The opposing setter, from the rich Pamae-Kyong district, served the ball directly towards her, and as she jumped into the air and spiked the ball down the whistle blew. She had won!

Her family cheered from the stands as she ran to hug them, her brother Jonnu gave her a pat on the back while using the other hand to put out his joint.

Following the finality of the game, Luna's team went out to celebrate, heading to the local Gungjun Hookah Longue where they served their renown best lotus-infused vodka slushies. Nandalay's damp fragrance bathed the streets as the lounge's neon lights lit up the streets ahead of it. Inside, Polski dancers entertained customers to the sound of Livotatian music. After a whole day of tiring matches, Luna was more than happy to sit back and enjoy the sights.

[[Just a short story, more to come later ]]

by **Litovat** » Sun May 24, 2015 12:54 pm

Kalisz

The capital was bustling as people rushed to get to their lunch business meetings and groups of young men and women swept swiftly from one clothing store to the next, all trying to purchase the most updated fashion. Among one of these groups was a young woman by the name of Sabina. She was the princes' personal servant and was out with some friends on her rare day off. Prince Artur treats her much better than any of the other royal family members. Not that they weren't pleasant towards her, just that Artur genuinely cared for her.

"Sabina what do you think of this for tonight?!" One of her girl friends held up a small black dress with a small grin on her face. It was a bit on the provocative side, not that it would be unacceptable. The night style of Kalisz was very provocative and the night clubs often remained open well into the early hours of the morning.

Sabina's face immediately turned a bright shade of red. All her friends knew she was excited for tonight, prince Artur was meeting her at the most exclusive club in all of Litovat, The Erotický. Only the most upper class in Litovat are allowed into the club and Artur had asked if Sabina would accompany him tonight.

"I think it will work." Sabina chuckled as she snatched the dress from Johana and proceeded to the register to purchase the dress. The girls continued to browse the numerous clothing stores that lined the streets of Uptown Kalisz.

The Erotický

An all blacked out Ledovec rolled up to the curbside of the club. The car brand is one the most popular and luxurious sports car brands in Litovat and only the richest of Litovatians can afford one. Fortunately for the young man stepping out of the drivers side door money was nothing to be worried about.

"Hey Artur!" A big built man, roughly 35 years old, strolled up to the prince, "I'll take care of the Ledovec for you." The man snatched the keys from Artur and proceeded to drive off to park it in the clubs' underground parking lot.

Artur strode through the doors of the heavily guarded club only to be greeted with a mass of bodies, loud blaring music, and flashing lights. Looking towards the bar he spotted what he had come for, Sabina. He grinned and headed towards her, tonight was going to be a good night.

by **Senkaku** » Sun May 24, 2015 6:05 pm

Luqing Province
Shuzong Prefecture
Qinglin County
Entering the Emerald Delta Special Administrative Region

Lien found herself almost drifting off as the train raced over the tracks, the faint, regular click-click-click of the wheels and the evenly spaced blurs of the railside poles providing a lulling rhythm that had her feeling quite drowsy. The air conditioning was only mild in this car, and it was warm outside, leaving her even sleepier- plus, they had been traveling for more than three hours since even the last stop, and they were well into their second day since departing from Beichang. Her older cousin, a Party bureaucrat, had been nice enough to give her the money to buy a high-speed ticket; if he hadn't she would probably be miles back, in Jingnan or somewhere further inland.
The train's regular clicking shifted slightly, the cabin tilting almost imperceptibly as they started a long, gentle turn. Outside, she could see verdant green rice fields, interspersed with trees, the occasional road cutting through them on causeways similar to the one they were riding on. The south, especially here in the main region of the Emerald Delta, was incredibly lush compared to drab, grey, windswept Beichang and the interminable grayish-brown or gold fields outside of it. When they had slowed down to go through Songchen, just a few hours ago, she had seen how much lovelier the cities here were too. Unlike sprawling, scorching Xianjing or drab, faded Beichang or any of the other sprawling, smog-veiled industrial cities in the north, the southern cities, at least to her eye, were clean, with glass skyscrapers and trees and if they were not entirely free of smog, they had far less than any city Lien had ever been to. These cities were planned in a spirit of habitability, not rote, mindless functionality, with their green belts and parks. Perhaps it was just the environment, the bright green being too dazzling to her unadjusted northern eyes, but she already liked the south.

As night was falling, she could see the glow from the highest spires of Luhai and her vast urban agglomeration ahead, over the low, gentle hills whose verdant green was still visible even in the fading light. Lien had napped a bit earlier, in the pleasantly warm afternoon, and now she watched the darkening countryside of the Emerald Delta whip by, field after field full of thickly growing, lush crops turning from bright green to gray as the sun sank below the horizon. Here and there there were branches of the rivers- probably the Qingjiang's many lower arms, but approaching Luhai they might be crossing a few of the Dajiang's southern branches as well- spanned by countless bridges, and lights began to appear in increasingly large clusters as they sped towards and into one of the largest urban agglomerations in the world.

Lien was, in truth, totally unsure of what to expect from Luhai. All she knew was that she would be working at a textile factory, in Baoshan outside of Luhai proper, with her own apartment nearby. She was one of seven children, her parents running a small branch of the state department store in their little town near Beichang- but her father's cancer had taken most of the little money they had over the last few years, and though he was now in remission, 17-year-old Lien needed to help support her family, and so off she went to Luhai.

Lien's story was not unique to the vast megalopolis that was now beginning to rise outside her window. Every year, tens of thousands of Qian flocked to the cities of the Emerald Delta, where foreign investment and companies and government work in the Emerald Delta Special Administrative Region provided a seemingly endless stream of money and where jobs were plentiful. The Emerald Delta's vast cities were cleaner, too, at least having less of the smog that so often choked cities further inland. In addition to their wealth and hygienic properties, these cities were also beautiful in ways that few inland cities, with their harsh, blocky socialist architecture and "concrete countrysides" were not. Here, elegant glass spires looked out over well-planned, tree-lined boulevards leading to charming suburbs with varied houses, while apartment buildings were more than concrete husks with basic plumbing and lighting. Meanwhile, the region's factories hummed day and night, loading foreign ships with innumerable goods from the world's workshops.

Most who came to the Emerald Delta weren't looking for much- they weren't dreaming of "making it big", only of sending home money to their families or buying themselves a nice, modest little house. Most got what they were looking for, but some did fall through the cracks, ending up in the tunnels of the old districts or on the streets.
And some people ended up going far beyond their wildest dreams.

by **Gaoxiong** » Sun May 24, 2015 8:26 pm

Zhongjing Municipality
Central Gaoxiong

Liu Guang, a young Gaoxiongese man, woke up to a cool summer morning at 6:35. It would get much warmer later in the afternoon, especially in this part of the country. Guang took a shower, got dressed, and ate a quick breakfast, as always. He had a bit of time before he had to go to work, so he turned on the TV to Gaoxiong Daily. "Former President Li Denghui has died," a reporter said. Guang suddenly felt overcome with disappointment and sadness. Mr. Li had been a good President, Guang thought.

Guang looked at the time on the screen. 7:00. He had to leave for work. He abruptly turned off the television and left. Guang walked towards the local metro station, Yongning, which was nearby. He saw an influx of people. This was not a surprise to Guang. He bought his ticket for Ǥ20 and waited for the train to arrive. Guang, along with a crowd of people, quickly got on the train. Today, he was lucky to find a seat. The train started to move as soon as he sat down.

When the train moved away from the terminal, the entire bustling city became visible. Guang saw colorful cars on the busy streets and advertisements on buildings. Tall skyscrapers were looming over the scene. It was now 7:15. Soon, he would arrive to his workplace, the headquarters of Gaoxiong Daily. He noticed Wang Yuanji at the entrance of the building. Guang was stunned. Yuanji had recently come back from visiting several countries.

"I am surprised that you came back," Guang said to Yuanji. They walked together towards the conference room. "Did you hear that Former President Li die?" Yuanji said. "Yes, a very sad occurrence. He was a good President," he replied. "He died of kidney failure." "We can talk about this when we get to the conference room." Yuanji said, trying to change the topic. "Yes," Guang agreed. "Did you enjoy your trip across Tiandi?" "Of course," Yuanji replied. "I liked visiting far-off nations such as Zamayatdaw. And I wrote a significant amount of articles about these countries as well."

"Good!" Guang exclaimed. "You can present those when you get to the conference room." It was now 7:50. They had to get to the conference room by 8:00. Guang and Yuanji talked for a few more minutes until they saw a sign that said "CONFERENCE ROOM". Guang and Yuanji entered.

"Good morning, Mr. Liu and Ms. Wang," the Editor, Lin Yunlan, said. "What do you have for us today?"

by **Carquem** » Mon May 25, 2015 5:12 pm

Pangyo Station, Samhamgyeong City, Samhamgyeong
12:00, 4 July

14ºC weather was not particularly unusual for July in Samhamgyeong, the self-designated "Jewel of the North Coast". But beyond even the temperature, the drizzle that merely dampened everything without making it truly wet, and the fog that still hadn't burned off despite the sun having been up since 4:30, the day seemed even chillier to Hajo Sung-kil as he stepped from the street above down into the bustling Pangyo Station. A student at the Dongsan University, Sung-kil had finished his first year of study just the month before, and still had not acclimated to what he considered the "consistent chill" of the city. Hailing from the interior town of Juseon in Jeokhwa Province, he was no stranger to chilly weather, but what bothered him was that the city never really got warm as opposed to it being truly cold.

In the past year, he had discovered many things about Samhamgyeong, and urban student life as well. First and foremost, Pangyo was an absolute bitch to deal with, particularly on a game day such as this one; second, Dongsan final exams were an absolute bitch to deal with, particularly in his calculus course; and finally, while he may have had several problems adjusting to life in the big city, a problem concerning relationships was not among them. Even though she was several hundred kilometres away from him at any given moment and their face-to-face interaction was mainly limited to the computer screen in most circumstances, Sung-kil felt that his hometown sweetheart, Aoike Keiko, was as close to him as ever before. Sung-kil thought it prudent to mention such a fact to the reader on this particular day, as she was coming up from Juseon to visit him for a week.

Keiko was a year younger than Sung-kil, and as such still had to finish the final year of her secondary studies while he went off to university. However, she was accepted into the Dongsan University on a hefty academic scholarship, and as such she would be joining him in the autumn. Sung-kil was also on an academic scholarship, although not of the same caliber as hers; his mathematics scores in sixth form were too low to qualify him for the higher award, a fact that bothered him deeply. There were a lot of things about himself that he found troubling, quite frankly, but when Keiko was with him, either in person or in spirit, they didn't hurt nearly as much. She was excellent, almost motherly, in her ability to reassure him of his worth, and he appreciated her for that, as well as many other things.

She was coming to him this week for two reasons. The first was her parents' main request, the request being that Sung-kil should acquaint her with Samhamgyeong, and in particular the Dongsan buildings, which, while mainly concentrated on a single campus, were also scattered about the immediate cityscape. More important to the lovers was the second reason - she had not seen him since Gujeong, and this reunion represented the end of a rather troublesome stage in their relationship, the stage being the stage of long distance. Having weathered that stage, and with their bond having grown stronger as if forged by flame, they both had much to look forward to in the future - including what Sung-kil assumed would be the fantastic consummation of their relationship.

Stepping down onto the platform, Sung-kil found that a train from the airport had just pulled in. The wind from the train's motion gave him even more chill as the train screeched slowly to a stop, beckoning those who were waiting to board. As the doors opened, those getting off the train poured out first and went their separate directions, followed by those who had waited boarding, creating a sort of equilibrium. (By that, Sung-kil noted, he meant that the train was just as crowded - extremely - as it was before, and the platform was just as crowded - again, extremely - as it was before as well.) Scanning the crowd, Sung-kil located his sweetheart easily. It wasn't a particularly hard thing to do - she was naturally somewhat light-haired, blue-eyed, and very pale, the product of being half-Yashimese, quarter-Londrench, and quarter-Brisellois in ancestry. In addition, she was dressed in shorts and a tank top, a clear contrast to Samhamgyeongin clothing on account of the weather.

He made his way through the crowd to her, and when their eyes met, she ran over to him and they embraced.

"I hope that not all of the clothes you packed are like what you're wearing today," Sung-kil said. "It isn't supposed to exceed 20ºC the entire time you're here."

"What, you think this weather bothers me?" Keiko retorted.

"That's what I thought when I came here, too. Then I actually got out in it. Here, have my jacket," he said, taking off his flannel jacket and giving it to her. She put it on, and they set out towards the exit of Pangyo to start their week-long adventure.

by **Litovat** » Tue May 26, 2015 4:03 pm

The train was speeding through the Litovatian countryside towards the northern city of Kladno, the constant clicking of the train seemingly endless. One of the most influential women in Litovat was among the passengers of the train, Lída Janiček. She was the president of the largest financial firm in the country and had much sway with the royal family, being a distant member herself. Many believe, though will never admit, that Lída got the job through her connections with the royal family, though that has never been proven and more than likely never will.

Lída stared intently out the window as the country side gave way to suburbs and the suburbs eventually gave way to massive sky scrapers. Kladno was the third largest city in Litovat and probably the largest manufacturing hub in the country. The train slowed to a stop as it pulled into Kladno Station. Mrs. Janiček stepped off the train, only to be greeted with the smell of pollution. The city, despite being one of the largest in Litovat, was also known for it's massive pollution problem. Smog often settled down in the city during the late evening and many people remained off the streets. Lída was here for one reason, promote the projects that her firm, Janiček, Cipris, & Associates (CPA), sees are necessary in order to preserve this once beautiful city and prevent further pollution to the peaceful Litovatian countryside surrounding it.

"Mrs. Janiček, I am here to escort you to the mayor's mansion," Said a man in a dark suit.

Lída followed the man and stepped into a car, only to be swept off into the rush of traffic as people quickly rushed to get home from their long workdays. One of the many problems, other than pollution, that face the city, sitting just on the Litovatian side of the border with the Pontifical States, was homelessness. There were countless men, women, and children that sat on the streets with surgical masks covering their faces daily. Lída felt a pull at her heart as she sped past all these people that could not even afford a meal, yet here she was about to meet with the mayor of this large city. She felt she needed to do more to help. A sudden jerk in the car brought her back to realty only to see that the driver had dozed off slightly and swerved into oncoming traffic and over corrected, bringing the car sharply to the right. The driver glanced in his rear view mirror when he had again gained control of the vehicle and apologized to his passenger.

The car pulled up to the front doors of the mansion and Lída stepped out and was rushed inside. Her meeting would be no longer than 30 minutes and she was to present everything she could within that time span because it was extremely difficult to be granted a meeting with this elusive mayor.

"Mr. Mayor, it is a pleasure to meet you," Lída said as she walked up to a short portly man with her hand outstretched. The man only grunted and nodded and turned into his office, barely motioning for Lída to follow.

"It is to my knowledge that you wish to 'cure' this great city of it's 'burden of pollution,'" the mayor said.
"Yes, it is. My firm is willing to fund projects to bring in cleaner sources of energy, so long as we receive some sort of incentive in return," Lída replied, knowing full well that she was legally allowed to negotiate her tax expenses because her firms Litovatian headquarters.
"Ahhh, so you only seek to better yourself and not this glorious city? I have spent years building this city from the tiny village it once was to a worldknown location for producing...." The man trailed off as a young assistant flew into the room.

"Sir, you must see this," The woman said as she turned on the television. The square box flicked to life and was filled with images of men and women with surgical masks marching through the streets towards the mayor's mansion.

"So, about that negotiation," Lída said, a small smirk forming on her face. Little did the mayor know, those men and women on the television were some of her clients paying off a debt to her firm in order for her to gain an upperhand in Klando.

by **Kentsland** » Tue Jun 02, 2015 4:48 pm

"Be not the man who judged another before ever living a second in their life"
Saamson van Dekker, Book of Virtue-1959

Village of Dabbenkamp
Province of Drenhout
Grand Duchy of Kentsland

The door to the Lindder household never closed on the first try, so when patriarch Aart Lindder returned home from work Tuesday evening he had to turn around and push the door once more to make sure it clicked shut. The middle aged man sighed quietly to himself and looked out the window at his modest yard and the modest street. His arms ached and his legs were tiresome, the dreadful beginning to arthritis and joint problems-a painful consequence for having devoted the past dozen years to the rough work at the millhouse. Yet all the same, you never did see Aart complain.

"Hello honey!" Mrs. Lindder said in the native Dutch, walking into the room towards her husband, drying her hands on an old plaid cloth.

Aart grinned a small smile that grew less and less visible as the days went on. To him, however, arriving home and seeing the sweet red cheeks of his wife was still the happiest part of his otherwise dreary day. He stepped forward and embraced his wife then plopped a light kiss on her lips. Marije Lindder helped her husband take off his old jacket (she knew that he ached, although not from him telling her), then hung it on the empty peg at the top of the coat rack.

"How was your day?"

"Went fine" Aart pulled off his faded leather shoes, "one of the lines went down this morning. Mr Garritt doesn't know when he'll get the money from corporate to fix it."

"Will you be out of work for that time?" She asked her husband, worrisome.

"Me, no" Mister and Misses Lindder had a collective sigh of relief as the two entered the den, "some of the newer boys will miss a couple days, though." Aart collapsed down into his reclining chair, a spot where he could very well live out the rest of his life. For the first time all day, the man relaxed his muscles and aching bones.

Aart flicked on the television from the remote on his armchair. The small cable box only got two dozen or so channels- 'just enough' Mr. Lindder would tell his friends and family when they visited, 'Nothing more, nothing less'. It had what his family needed; News Network and the Kentsland Broadcasting Service for him, the few soaps that Mrs. Lindder watched between her morning job at the doughnut shop and her evening chores, and a few cartoon stations for the kids for the few times they were allowed to control the remote.

The television was two minutes into Aart's usual 6:00 program, the local news affiliate broadcasted from nearby Vaatsberg City. The man on the screen, a face common to Aart's daily routine, was rounding out the news that that hour would cover. "And anti-logging protests continue in the south." Mr. Lindder shook his head. The conservativeness and "worker-man" mentality in Mr. Lindder didn't give him the same sight that these so called 'green terrorists' saw. Or so that was what Aart grew up thinking.

"Oh, I almost forgot, dear. Your sister Anne called this morning. She was terribly sorry she missed you, but left a number for you to call when you get the time. Said don't worry about calling too late, said she'd probably be up anyway."

"Alright, thank you Marije." Aart smiled and nodded to his wife then turned his head back to the television, yet his attention wandered.

Aart was against his little sister moving out west, and he was vocal in telling her so. There was an uncanny fifteen years in between the only two children of Mattiew and Jenafer Lindder. Aart took on his big brother duty well, and in the eyes of Anne, took them on too well. In their father's last couple years of life, it was Aart who was there to intimidate prospective boyfriends and provide life advice. It was Aart who escorted Anne to the annual Father-Daughter dance, even though he had a wife and a daughter of his own. So when Anne, ever the free willed and adventurous girl that she was, announced to her big brother that she was going to move out west, it sowed discord between the two siblings.

Despite Aart's pleas-and at one point, commands, Anne left a couple days after her nineteenth birthday. She would never go longer than a few weeks without calling home, telling her brother where she was and what she was doing. The last time Aart had heard, she was making do as a waiter at a 'hip' new restaurant in Kamphaven. Regardless of their tumultuous separation however, Aart still looked forward too talking with Anne and let a light smile slip onto his face. While he didn't agree with her life choices, Aart still loved his little sister.

"Bring in my sister's number, sweetheart!" Aart called out to his wife, and just then his body ached a little less.

by **Sevatetland** » Mon Jun 15, 2015 10:26 am

Sergei Atlomov woke up as he did every morning: With the thundering blast of the mandatory radio in his room alerting him that his daily duties for the greater glory of the nation had begun. It was 5:00 in the morning, and the radio had only permitted him sleep at midnight the previous day. He was a member of the lower council; elected by his region of Sevatetland to represent them in the decisions that the nation makes. This was all a facade, of course, but he would never say that. He shuddered at the thought of going to one of the political prisons, high up in those mountains where even animals remain at a distance due to the harsh conditions and lack of game to hunt. The lower council, he thought, was simply an instrument to allow the commoners to believe that they were in control of at least a small part of the nation's doings, but all of those within the Councils know that there is one man who truly has power, and that is Chuikov himself. He got out of bed after only a minute or two of thinking, knowing that in all likelihood a member of the Military Police would be monitoring him through the various cameras left in his room. This was something that everyone had to deal with, granted not something everyone was aware of, but mostly all but children had felt the sting of their iron hand full upon them. He stood up, but on his uniform designated for that day, ate his breakfast (calculated exactly to be 600 calories), and stepped out of his apartment door. He lived in an apartment complex designated for members of the lower council, meaning they had a few square feet of extra space to allow them "comfort", but mostly so that the Ministry Of Propaganda could better keep tabs on them. He stood in line, facing the woman who had left the door parallel to his own. She was not unattractive, more attractive than most members of the lower council. It was surprising that she made it at all, her being a woman, but it was more than likely arranged so that the female populace would feel that their needs were also being debated and brought to the forefront of politics, straight to Chuikov's desk! If only anything made it to his desk. He has an army from the Ministry of Propaganda that reads through all but the most important of documents: Sign, imprison, execute, repeat, repeat, repeat...that was pretty much the MoP's job daily. He thought about how he would never be able to do it, but then thought of the things he would gain and a doubt began to grow in the back of his mind..

The woman across the hall smiled back, not so much that anyone could really see. Fraternization was only allowed on certain nights, and special permissions had to be allowed if you wanted privacy with a member of the opposite sex. If two lower council members had a child that would mean a possible regime within the lower council, which leads to support and power. More than likely what would happen is two parents and a newborn would be splattered across the government's (and only) issued newspaper with the headline "Two Lower Council Members And Infant Die In Crash. Chuikov Mourns"-so, he would rather not risk it, and leave their time for talking in-between the sessions. The lower council was only...His heart raced as a member of the Military Police walked by, making sure that everyone was in order, checking uniforms..only this time he had a list. He began reading names. Aleš Andrej Bosko, Ľuboš Vojtech Bartoš, Jarmila Olívia Jelen, and Sergei Atlomov. As he read them off a member of the Military Police rushed to each of the men (and the woman opposite him, whose name he now knew was Jarmila), read them their crimes against the nation, and pointed a gun to their heads. They were ordered out of the building.

The time it took him to get down those few flights of stairs was the longest time in his life. He felt as if everything was standing still. Sweat dripped down his face despite the freezing weather, something that would naturally be used in the testimony against him. If he were even lucky enough to get a testimony. Of course no one that was in the building would speak of it..to do so would put them at an even greater risk of being taken to Chuikov knows where..there he goes again..using the government's slang. It gets burned into your mind after 40 years. It is inescapable. The government is inescapable. The fact that such a tyrant is able to rule a nation is inescapable. He was ushered into a seemingly normal government van, only the back of this one had been fitted with multiple shackles to bind those being transported. The gun was waved at him again as they clasped them around his ankles, waist, wrists, neck, and forehead. He was unable to move almost anything, and blood was seeping out from many of the restraints due to the roughness to which they were applied and the general smallness of them. His eyes were covered with some form of material that he did not care to try and discern as the crimes of all of them were read off. It was hard to make those that were his clear, but the general crimes seemed to be as follows: Treason, Attempted Assassination, Conspiracy, so on...Then they were all asked, in a grisly unison, whether or not they wished to admit to these crimes. This was something of which he had never heard of, and something that he had no clue how to answer. The neck restraints were loosened enough to allow all of them to speak..Ales said no, Lubos said no, Jarmila said yes..and Sergei..Sergei figured that the only way out of this was through it. Hopefully after a decade of the political prisons, if he were lucky enough to survive such a stretch of time, he would be settled in one of the colonies for ex-criminals. He said yes..not confidently at all, but he said it.

The van then drove off. The drive was for hours, and all that could be heard over the radio was the government's usual broadcasts. Sergei could not move, speak, drink..he was in a great deal of discomfort, and he knew that this was the easiest part. The van stopped, the restraints were removed, and all were ushered out into the freezing conditions. They were on the top of a mountain..not a large one, but one of average size for this area. He saw four holes in the ground. Each one roughly 7 feet deep..he could tell that these men wanted them buried, and never found..they were each ordered to kneel in front of the graves as a gun was pressed, rather gently, Sergei Thought, to the back of their heads. The cold kiss of it stood out more than any other part of his body. As each of the officers said aloud, "You have been found guilty of treason against the Chuikov Regime, a crime that is punishable by death. Two of you had admitted guilt, something that would usually lead to a stay in the political prisons, but due to the severe extent of these crimes your only way to show your commitment to the nation is through death." Each of the four men squeezed their trigger gently. They had done it a hundred times at least, and knew exactly how much pressure was needed on the hair trigger. A warm sting hit Sergei, much like that of a wasp, but he did not feel it for long. The graves were quickly filled in, with both their new occupants and the dirt that had been there for generations.

The van drove away, ordered to perform another pickup.

by **Senkaku** » Fri Jun 26, 2015 10:58 pm

Xianjing Special Administrative Region
Xianjing
91st Ward
Outer Xianjing Main Mental Health Residence Facility, Building #2

"They're here, they can seeeeee me, PLEASE, I'm telling you, it's not meeeeeeeeeee...", the poor young woman wailed, and Lan sighed, gently taking her shoulder, her blue medical scrubs glaring of the white walls and the woman's thin grey shift.
"Shhhh, you're okay, Ms. Wang, it's fine. We'll make them go away, okay? They're not going to bother you at all, and we're just going to put this back where it was, okay?" She moved her head to look reassuringly into Ms. Wang's wild black eyes, reaching down to pick up the picture and avoid the glass shards around it. She picked the dented frame up, sitting down on the narrow bed beside the poor, shivering young woman. "Can you tell me who this boy is?"
Ms. Wang smiled, but her eyes darted around the room before she spoke. "He's... he's my little brother," she said in a tremulous voice. "Jiayi. He's in the Party," she said proudly, beaming. "Like me. Like Mother and Father. He's a very clever boy, we all love him. When I was a child we used to share peaches we bought from the market."
"That's wonderful!", Lan said, making her face light up with a smile as if she were hearing this for the first time. "Alright, now let's get someone to clean up this glass and put this lovely picture of your brother back, okay?"
The young woman tensed again. "But I don't want them to move it while I'm sleeping."
"No one's going to move anything, Linfen," Lan said soothingly. "We'll just fix it and put it back-"
"But what if they change it while it's away, or send me back something different? Just let me hold it where they can't take it."
Lan bit her lip. "Ms. Wang, you'll cut yourself on the-" the younger woman snatched the picture out of her grip, backing away and eyeing her suspiciously. She didn't even seem to notice the glass shards along the frame slash into her left palm, and Lan gasped. "Ms. Wang, Linfen, please-"
"Are you one of them?", she asked in a trembling voice. "Are you trying to take it away from me? Are you going to change it?"
"No, no, Ms. Wang, I just want to fix it for you," Lan said, showing her palms. "And look, now you've cut yourself. Did you not take your medicine again?", she said, as if taking her anti-psychotics was just some playful childish prank.
Linfen looked down, either afraid or ashamed, as blood dripped down her hand. Her voice was barely a whisper. "I think they moved them, I didn't know what was in them, I didn't know if it was safe..."
Lan came closer, gently touching her arm. "Of course they're safe, Linfen, they're to help you. Now I'll have Doctor Song come in and have a look at your hand and make sure you take your medicine, alright? And get this glass cleaned up, and get you some warm milk, okay?"
Linfen sniffled suddenly. "Okay. I just don't want them to change my picture. Do you promise it'll be okay?"
"Your picture will be fine, sweetheart," Lan said patiently, and headed to the phone. "Hi, this is Lan, room 278. Yeah, please send him over. Thank you."

Lan shook her head later. "It's just so strange. From the pictures I saw she was pretty once, she had a great life, young rising Party officer. And now she's here, rambling about how 'they' move her pictures and switch her meds to arsenic pills while she's sleeping or when she turns her back."
Doctor Song sighed. "Her case is strange, but I've seen it before. I think it must be the pressure of a Party position, especially with these rising-star types. I've seen it young and old, same kind of problems. They think someone's moving their things, someone's watching them, trying to hurt them. I had one young man who was convinced that 'they' switched what kind of tea he kept in his cupboard and siphoned off his cooking oil. I think the self harm with arsenic or similar poisons is somehow connected, at least in some cases."
"I'm just glad her hand is fine. We need to monitor her more closely, she's so much better when she takes her drugs."
"Even then, though. Poor girl will probably be in here for a long time," Doctor Song said sadly.

As it turned out, Wang Linfen had, at least at the start, not been imagining things. Indeed, she was a young, beautiful, rising Party official, with notable marks in university, seemingly destined for great things.
But her position was not exactly a safe one- she worked at the state news agency, and had been recently assigned a position researching the corruption crackdown the Chairman had launched. And, unfortunately for her, she had made some enemies in the course of her research and publishing- enemies with the power of the Political Security Department at their fingertips, or at the fingertips of their friends. But she could not be arrested or killed for such actions- she was doing her duty to the Party, the Revolution, the nation, and her death would be noted and cast into suspicion because of her position.
But Political Security, with its ever-present eyes and millions of informers, had other, better, easier, quieter means of silencing inconvenient voices.

It started one day when her keys disappeared, on a weekend, when she was going out with some friends. She searched high and low through her apartment, had to ask a friend for a ride- only to find them the next day in her closet, tucked into a shoe. She'd had a strange call two nights later, in the middle of the night- a man, just reading numbers seemingly with no meaning and no end. She'd hung up, assuming she was dreaming.
And so it had gone- little things, vanishing, moving while she slept or while she was out. Strange people calling in the night, or, more frightening, the call where there was only silence. Three weeks in, her lights would occasionally flicker and go out while she was in the shower, and she would hear noises- were they pipes rattling, in truth? That was what she told herself as she wrapped a towel around her nakedness and went to check the fusebox, every time.
One day she'd come home after a long day and went to pour herself some wine- but hadn't she had a pink wine, not a red, chilling in her fridge instead of sitting on the counter? Another day she woke up to feel something was off, and finally realize her couch was in a different place, just a few inches closer to the TV.

It had grown worse and worse- and then her cousin had visited. Cousin Ling was a sweet girl, without as promising a career ahead of her as Linfen, but still, a Party member and destined for a decently high office, in all likelihood. But her usually cheerful cousin had seemed melancholy and uneasy, and the same things had continued happening.
But the worst part was- Ling did not notice. When Linfen mentioned something like the lights flickering, Ling would stare at her in blank confusion, or raise a quizzical eyebrow. That had been the worst thing, feeling her fear rise like black fire in her spine as Ling laughed and teasingly said she must be going crazy.
After Ling had left it became worse. Things moved all the time, driving her to distraction. One day her car even turned up in a parking space different from the one she'd parked it in. Her tea always tasted funny, and she'd noticed she was having headaches, couldn't see well when it got dark out. But Linfen was a professional, she was busy- she didn't have time for this, so she forced it down.

But then her sources at work, one by one, started clamming up. She missed deadlines, kept getting distracted by this handsome new guy named Chao in her section, started drinking more of whatever ended up in her cupboard or fridge or on her counter. She finally started seeing him, though her friends at work and her supervisor somewhat disapproved and she knew they were muttering about her. Chao was the same as Ling- he noticed nothing of the strange movements, and one weekend morning, when they woke up hungover together and had talked for hours, he'd jokingly suggested she was just getting drunk and moving things and forgetting about it.
Was she? Was she going insane? She would feel confused, get headaches, she noticed herself having diarrhea. She had to call in sick one day because of it. And still, things moved, now more and bigger, and she could not keep track of it in her hazy state. Had that chair been on that side of the room yesterday? Had her bread had sesame seeds on it or not? Had she had grape wine or rice wine in her cupboard? Why did it taste so strange, or was that how wine tasted? Why were all the pictures in her room rearranged, or was that how they'd always been?
She finally decided to try something. She drew a line in black pen on a picture and a box on the surface of the drawer where it stood. If the picture with the black line moved off its black box without her remembering, she would call the police.
That night she woke with a sudden, terrified start from a half-remembered nightmare, and saw eyes staring at her in the darkness. She'd started to scream, but there was a pinch in her arm and everything went dark, and as she faded out she could hear someone moving, taking her clothes off, moving her pictures again. She imagined, through that hazy blackness, that someone was raping her, but she had no idea.

The next morning, she felt fine, besides the usual headaches. There were no needlemarks in her arm, no evidence between her legs of being assaulted.
But her black line, and her black box, were gone. Linfen had started sobbing uncontrollably at that, feeling as though eyes were crawling over her like little biting ants in the grey morning light, had cried and called her mother and drunk herself into oblivion and called Chao over to fuck her to sleep. She did not call the police, she forgot why she'd even drawn the lines. But she knew it proved someone- or something- was here, with her, watching her. She would wake with a start in the dead of night at the slightest sound, even while Chao snored next to her. Once, while he was there, and still trying to go to sleep, the lights had turned on, and then off. She had gasped, and he'd looked up blearily.
"What's wrong?"
"Did you not see that?"
"See what?"
Linfen had absolutely lost it. She'd started screaming and crying, she started hyperventilating and trying to explain to Chao, who only looked baffled. He'd taken her to the hospital to get her drugs, thinking she was just having panic attacks from stress at work. She'd taken them, at his coaxing, but the moving did not stop. She finally had tearfully asked him to stay at his apartment, thinking it would protect her.

It did not. And Chao still noticed nothing. Linfen was terrified now, and she could feel her body deteriorating too. She was certain the person who moved things was putting something in her anxiety pills, in her water, in her wine, but the best way to deal with the anxiety wasn't the pills, it was her strange-tasting rice wine. White spots appeared in her nails, she noticed cramps, hair falling out. She couldn't eat, Chao was worried about her and kept trying to coax her to see a doctor. But Linfen knew the doctor would not believe her, just as Chao did not. No one believed her, but she knew they were moving things.
The terrifying thing was, sometimes she could not remember if it had been her or them that had moved something. It was entirely plausible she'd put her keys by the TV or her shoes under the table, but then again that was the sort of little thing they did.

Finally her boss had asked her to take some time off. Her stories were going nowhere, her affair with Chao becoming distracting. Chao told her the boss had ordered him to stop seeing her, and try though she might he wouldn't answer her calls or texts after that. She kept getting strange calls in the middle of the night, and sometimes in the day, and for some reason every time she dialed her mother, in tears, it was just a man reading off numbers.
Her aunt had come to visit, and that had been what finished her. She'd utterly forgotten about the visit, and had come home to find her bed moved a foot or two towards one side of her room. Her aunt got in at around nine, and buzzed to be let up. Linfen, who was in a shaking, sobbing ball next to a spilled bottle of cheap rice wine in her living room, convulsing and occasionally crawling to the bathroom to throw up or piss bloody urine that smelled of alcohol, did not answer. Finally her aunt called security, as she had nowhere else to stay and Linfen had promised her she would be home. They found her like that, semi-conscious, and Linfen had tried to tell them, but they would not listen.

And now she sat in a white room where she could not remember if she had moved her scant few things or they had, her cheeks gaunt and hollow, her hair stringy and loose, her organs struggling under arsenic loads that none of her doctors could explain by anything other than her dosing herself, and no one believed her. And the eyes were watching, always...

But she had a sheet, and a sturdy light fixture, and if she could not fight them in life, she would not give them the pleasure of choosing how she died.

This was what the ZAB did to people, not just disappearances in the night and torture. It destroyed them, it drove them insane, and then it sent them off to do the deed it wanted done themselves and bade them a fond adieu, for regardless of how brightly their little candles had shone in life, they could be extinguished so very, very easily.

by **Senkaku** » Tue Jul 21, 2015 3:28 pm

Xianjing Special Administrative Region
Xianjing
8th Ward
Hu Square
Hu Bingwen Security Center (Lantai)
Third Subbasement

Jianjun looked down on the pitiful thing lying on the floor. Prisoner 149, identified as Zhang Aiguo, had been here for five weeks now, and was somewhat the worse for wear.
"Prisoner 149, please stand."
Aiguo looked up at him with only fear, and Jianjun looked back with all the implacable iciness of the Rygyali high steppe in the darkest of winters.
Jianjun's bamboo stick flickered like a dancing cobra, catching Aiguo on his elbow and cheek as he shrank away towards the wall.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm getting up-" he said, and as he stood Jianjun's cane flashed out again and caught him along the jaw.
"Speak when you are asked to." Jianjun sighed. Aiguo had been unusually recalcitrant, especially regarding the Party propaganda and psych ops pieces they'd forced him to watch- but Jianjun and his supervisor agreed that after yesterday, he was done. He was a shell with nothing but the Party to cling to, so shattered as to be incapable of hate or defiance or any defiance or lack of faith beyond an unusually dull acceptance. He had lost fifty-three pounds in their care, had had to have three fingers amputated because they'd been crushed so badly, had a broken arm, three broken ribs, and a crushed toe, his body was pocked with burns and cuts and bruises from the tortures that had been inflicted on him. They knew he'd been having regular sleep-deprivation hallucinations (and hallucinations from the drugs and poisons that laced his food and water), had all sorts of other medical issues.
Not that that mattered, of course.
"Prisoner 149, you are being transferred. Because of your re-acceptance of Party doctrine, and your confessions, you will be permitted to spend the remainder of your life at Labor Camp Number Seven, in Rygyal, rather than face execution. Do you have anything to say?"
Aiguo started crying, and murmured something over under his breath. Jianjun was gentler with his stick, but not much- it cracked against his broken ribs, and the man yelped like a kicked dog and staggered.
"Speak up."

"I said thank you," Aiguo sobbed. "For bringing me back."

They were walking down an empty, brightly lit hallway. Jianjun was following Aiguo, who was being grasped firmly by a burly guard- not that it was necessary. The man wouldn't have tried to run even if they'd handed him a ticket to Hapcheon and driven him to the airport. He was still sniffling through his crooked nose, broken too many times to count by various beatings.

Jianjun sighed and paused, reaching down as Aiguo and the guard continued to walk forward- one in silence, the other still muttering thanks to hallucinations only he could see and hear.
The guard paused, and Prisoner 149 stopped docilely beside him, like a well-trained dog or a lamb.
There was a soft pop, and Prisoner 149's corpse, with a bullet lodged between the ears, was carried away by the guard.

Jianjun took out a cigarette and lit it after putting his pistol back in its holster.
And now, to start all over again on the next one. He blew out some smoke and yawned. I think they said I get a woman this time. Hopefully she'll be a little for straightforward than that fucker ever was. He started walking down the hallway, towards the door at the end, and slipped through into the Line Y prison offices, heading over to his supervisor's desk.
"Prisoner 149 has been liquidated. I'll bring you the paperwork, but that completes his vaporization order."
His boss looked up and nodded. "I'll have his remaining files destroyed. Good work, Jianjun. I left your next case on your desk like you asked."

by **Senkaku** » Thu Jul 23, 2015 3:16 pm

The Last Flight of the Azure Dragon

"For you were made from dust, and to dust you will return."

April 5th, 1946
Empire of the Great Li
Nanqiu Governorate
Liangjiang Province
Luhai Urban Prefecture
Palace of the Western Sea

"Your highness, Communist forces are now in Jingnan and marching on Songchen."
Crown Prince Regent Li Yinti blinked, his brain still muffled by sleep. "The Communists are in Jingnan? I thought the city had been fortified and they were preparing to besiege it?", he said, confused, staring around at the grim faces of his generals in the early morning light falling through the windows. Outside, the harbor's surface was like rough iron, pocked with the ridges and valleys of a thousand waves as a cool wind blew down from the north, and rain drummed lightly on the windows whenever the wind suddenly gusted and howled in the empty fireplaces, which servants were endeavoring to fill and heat.
Qin Shan, the commander of the Tiger Guard and the emergency commander of all of the dynasty's armies, looked grim. "Reports indicate that a group of soldiers defected. They aided the Communists in bypassing some of the fortifications and have gotten them into the city. If they have already breached our defenses it is only a matter of time until the city falls, given that there are two million soldiers assaulting it and another four million coming up behind them."
Yinti stared at him dully for a moment, his still-sleepy eyes dazzled by the azure stripes that crisscrossed the tiger soldier's face and skin. "But Songchen is barely defended. Most of the army is around Jingnan, waiting to meet the attack. Surely they can re-consolidate their hold, and keep the Communists at bay?"
Marshal Qin did not say anything. "Perhaps, majesty. Our Tigers will do what they can, but we have reports of unauthorized retreat and defection. I fear Jingnan may become a rout."
Yinti sat back in his chair, looking as defeated as his army. "So is this it, then? Shall I call the ships and load up the court and sail away?"
The room full of generals was silent, but Li Daiyan- a prince of the fourth rank, and Yinti's cousin, as well as a general- finally spoke.
"I do not think any of us would presume to council you in this manner. It certainly looks grim, but we retain Tiger Guard regiments that are still willing to die for their emperor, and there are plenty who hate the Communists. If we can get Jeongmi, or Meisaan, perhaps, or any of our fellow capitalists to aid us, then I feel it could still be possible to drive the Reds back. But if not... Well, Penghu's star is rising," he said grimly. "But with the Tiger Guard and our ships and rockets, we could yet hold out for some time."
Yinti stood. "Very well. I will leave you to plan your response. I was informed the Minister of Domestic Tranquility also required my audience, on another urgent matter."

Li Chang, the Minister of Domestic Tranquility- another prince, another cousin of Yinti's- was not the man who was in the room in the Minister's robes. It was his deputy, Su Liang, looked as grim as the sky outside.
"Vice-Minister Su? I was told my cousin the Minister required an audience."
"Your cousin the Minister is nowhere to be found, my lord. But we do have reports of a man in the garb of an imperial prince of the blood, with several guards and an automobile, leaving the city in the wee hours of the morning. Heading north. On the Jingnan highway."
Yinti felt his blood freeze in his veins. Chang, defecting to the Communists? Surely not. Yinti's own brother Yiqin had done so, earlier in the war- in fact, several members of the imperial family and the imperial court had done so- but Chang? The dynasty's spymaster, seemingly among its most loyal followers? Chang had been the Minister of Domestic Tranquility since Yinti's father had begun seizing more power in the Imperial Court, before the Great War had even ended. He was loyal to the core, to the dynasty, to the empire...
...or not, apparently. Yinti swallowed and sat down.
"So my honorable cousin may have defected. The nation's top spymaster, privy to all our darkest secrets and most covert operations. Including multiple operations against the rebels."
Liang looked as dead as Yinti felt. "I have dispatched men with orders to return him immediately. I forged your signature and requisitioned your seal, it required immediate action. They have license to kill him, if he appears to be defecting and they cannot return him."
Yinti nodded, feeling dizzy, and the rain drummed on the windows, and the sea stared at him with a trillion flat, dead grey eyes and chuckled quietly as his dynasty crumbled to the dust and was hurled into its eternally yawning maw.

by **Senkaku** » Mon Jul 27, 2015 12:38 pm

Emerald Delta Special Administrative Region
Luhai
7th Ward
Zhu Que Nightclub

"Holy fuck, how many shots did you just have?!", Chun shouted over the music as Tai stumbled and nearly fell into her. She wasn't too steady herself, but she managed to stand up a little straighter as she tried to make out Tai's slurring through the steady bass that was vibrating up through her shoes into her bones.
He waved his hands incoherently. "You... knetttthh..." He started laughing. "I can't... Twelfveth?"
She grinned. "Well, you beat out that sonofabitch, that's for sure," she shouted into his ear, pointing at the guy he'd just been competing with at the bar.
"Halfh... Offf... Shahts....", he grinned. "Goddamn."
"Should we find Liu and Mei?"
"Cab. Apartment," he said, teetering and forcing her to swerve as they moved along the edge of the bar area.
"Good plan. They said..." She paused, blinking and making sure she wasn't teetering too much either. "Half off lines, too. You wanna maybe... Maybe... Stand straight, damnit."
"I'm, I'm trying," Tai said, giggling hysterically.
"Half off lines, they said too. Sober you up. Stand you up straight."
Tai said something incomprehensible as she steered him back towards the bar. She leaned him like a log against the counter and waved at the bartender.
"Hey, can we get a half dozen lines each?"
"No problem, hon." He headed over to the counter, then called back to her. "You two got stuff?"
"Yeah," she called back, "we're good, thanks." She fumbled in her pocket for her wallet, finally slapping it with slightly unnecessary force onto the counter and futzing around to grab out some cash. She slid most of it across the counter as the bartender handed them each a clear plastic bag of white powder, and passed Tai a bill while rolling another one up into a tube.
He fumbled his a little, spilling it across half the counter, and she sighed and handed him a credit card.
"You got it?", Chun said with a smirk.
Tai nodded, biting his lip in concentration as he slowly moved the coke into six slightly uneven lines. Chun, with a good bit less alcohol, quickly slid hers into straight, even lines, and snorted them up one after another, coming up for air and gasping afterwards. "Ho-ly shit." She glanced over at Tai, who had just finished his fourth line and was not looking much more sober.
She sighed. "Hey, bartender, you got like an Adderal or something? I need this guy to sober up, I'd been hoping to fuck him later."
The bartender's eyebrows climbed. "Sure, sweetheart. Sixty ren." She slid three twenties across the table and picked up the pill he slid her. She tapped Tai's shoulder as he finished his fifth line, gasping. "Tai. Take this." She tossed it into his open mouth and snorted with laughter as it went down.
"Alright, let's go," she shouted at him as the bass made the shot glasses on the other parts of the counter rattle. "And a nice night," she called back to the bartender with a little wink.

The next morning
Luhai
14th Ward
1106 14th Avenue
Apartment No. 1027

"Oh my god," Tai groaned, and fell back onto the pillow. Next to him, Chun stirred slightly, her eyes cracking open to the midmorning sun bursting aggressively through the window.
She looked over. "Tai?"
"Uhhhh...."
Chun's head was throbbing as she rolled over. Tai had stuffed a pillow over his head, presumably to keep the irritatingly bright sun out of his eyes. She fumbled out of bed and stumbled to the blinds, drawing them closed.
Thank god it's the weekend, she thought as she cocooned herself in the blankets. Maybe when we wake up for real I'll make some coffee.

A Day in the Life (ATTN Tiandi)

A Day in the Life (ATTN Tiandi)

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