[TWI-Only] [IC] The Unraveling

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Founded: Jun 15, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

[TWI-Only] [IC] The Unraveling

Postby Ainslie » Thu Dec 14, 2017 12:46 am

The Unraveling
IC | OOC | Dispatch

"When the seasons shift, even the subtle beginning, the scent of a promised change, I feel something stir inside me. Hopefulness? Gratitude? Openness? Whatever it is, it's welcome."
- Kristin Armstrong

Through the eyes of the young of this world, we see life getting more just as a result of this incident. Perspectives are everything in a world that is constantly changing and it is up to governments, individuals and business to make the most of the situation that is presented to them. A hack into the Keveraite banking system points to Garland Clegget Kruse, an international law firm. Additionally the hack subsequently turns into a leak, with many groups becoming implicated due to this scenario. Governments are not immune in an international world where communication is instant and simple. Despite the efforts of national governments to downplay and mitigate the scenario, the Unraveling becomes exactly what it could be: a strong wake up call to the world to not be complacent.

The world through the lens of the next generation is also viewed here. Through Chris, Arrisek and Sarah we are shown the true human condition of people in the Isles. The next generation is struggling, but not downhearted. The Unraveling brings the emotions of the rising generation to a boil, and there's no certainty to how it should be managed. Likewise, we receive an insight into the current generation - especially the ruling elite of the Isles... politicians, businessmen, wealthy individuals. It is truly a conflict between suited individuals and the next generation. The question now is who is going to come to the table to compromise first?

Note: You do not need to schedule posts with me via TG or anything, but it would be good to let me know when you intend to post so I can keep track of things. Remember, if you wanna jump on an idea - come chat about it in the OOC thread.

    If you would like to comment or coordinate posts please do not write that here. Do it in the Out of Character Thread. This RP is for The Western Isles only.
    Last edited by Ainslie on Thu Jan 25, 2018 1:57 am, edited 6 times in total.
    The Unified Electorates of Ainslie
    Discord gdayer, weather alarm man and Officer for Communications and Engagement in The Western Isles.
    If you're in The Western Isles, take a look at this to get involved with my nation IC
    "Aprosia and Townside: hey, let's do history and culture, things that affect many aspects of our nations
    ainslie: hehe alarm go brrrrr"

    - Aprosia, 2021

    "Ains had a panic attack. His centrism was in danger"
    - Domanania, 2019

    "Ahnslen gitmo - instead of waterboarding, they torture inmates by making them read scholalry works on political centrism
    - Orsandia, 2018

    "Factbooks are never finished, as Ains would say"
    - Torom, 2018

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    Founded: Jun 15, 2016
    Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

    Revire Introduction into The Unraveling

    Postby Ainslie » Thu Dec 14, 2017 10:53 pm

    13 December 2017
    Highland Ridge, Wesland, Ainslie
    4:25 pm

    Chris was walking down the gravel path which felt like it was crumbling apart every time he laid a foot on it. The leaves were burdened by the winter frost. It had been weeks since those pills entered her sister’s system.

    “Stu… STURI!!!!”, he audibly shouted as he kicked the pathway which would soon offer him retribution for that act. The peaceful walkabout he entered quickly transformed into a hurricane of thoughts which ever increased. He rapidly sped up his pace, in a manner which was near proportional to his thoughts. The trees were shedding their last golden colours this time of year, but Chris hated these trees now. Such beauty leaves the world… it reminded him of his sister. As onlookers became more concerned about his temperament, he noticed a townsperson on their phone. Within twenty minutes there was a dark car with a familiar number plate. A calm, yet concerned tone was emitted from the car…

    “Let’s drive.”

    For years now, Chris found peace in nature - this is why his mother was never too concerned with him walking for an hour or two in the morning. His mother, who had been the driver of the dark car quickly lept out and thanked one of her friends - the person on the phone. The wheels increased their speed and the golden trees were quickly vanishing. As they left the city, the nature around them became more lifeless. It was rare for his mother to drive this way - and he remembered that she once stated that the areas north of Highland Ridge were “boring beyond belief”

    The phone buzzed at an incredible pace, acting like it was about to explode - or transform into a monster which was unstoppable - he couldn’t make up his mind.
    “Chris, can you get that? I would… but grabbing a phone whilst driving at 105ks would be stupid.”
    “Yes mum, last thing we need is you going off a clif”

    There was silence for a few minutes.
    “I think you better get that, Chris!”
    He picked up the device

    “Area, Chris here.”
    “Hi son - somehow fat controller let me fly back home from the mines. I’ll be back in town tomorrow night - just gotta sort out some stuff here first”
    Chris did not reply.
    “You okay”
    “Yeah…”, Chris said as he did not want to tell his father anything of the past few weeks. The call ended.
    “Chris, he’s trying to talk to you…
    “He just seems so… distant. Everything seems to be so distant - it’s like everyone’s living their lives like everything is normal - how do we continue as humans if we are continually lying to ourselves?”
    His mother watched as her son grappled with grief. There was no way she could comprehend what going through something like this at his age would be like but she knew this questioning would ultimately lead to a good ending.
    “We’re here”, Janine stated blankly
    “Mum - what would that be exactly?”
    “Caranen’s Peak, 1077m above sea level. There’s a bench near the lookout we’re going to.”

    The path they followed - not gravel, some sort of concrete, led out to the lookout. 180 degree views of the surrounding countryside illuminated those infuriating golden trees near the horizon. His mother followed his eyes as they scanned the road they were on.
    “Ever heard the story of Caranen”
    “Rakare Caranen was a Wellinian project manager. A relative of ours according to some books down in the electoral library. He was commissioned to establish a route between Highland Ridge and Cataren in the late 19th Century. It was a dangerous job and he lost a lot of people along the way and felt intense heartbreak. The trees you see in front of you gave him hope - they’ve been here for decades… He noticed that as they lost their colour in winter - they surely returned to the radiant colours they’re so famous for in the winter. He was once quotes to state the road he created as one that was built of gold. He had seen the golden trees which lined these streets - but he saw them in the winter, where the desolate sticks of winter made way for renewal. reflection - he had seen the golden streets of Highland Ridge, lined with these trees. He also saw that the desolate sticks of winter had their time - but made way for renewal.”

    “One of his most important contributions to society was not as a planner but rather as a theologian, poet and philosopher in his ‘retirement’. There was a particular verse which deeply resonated within him.
    “For everything there is a season… he has made everything beautiful in his time…”

    I understand what you’re going through, but as much as you may hate it now, this burden will decrease - things will get better. We still have her in our hearts, and these trees have and will service as reminders of who she was and the memory we have of her. These trees represent the renewal, the incredible beauty in life. I have found great comfort in them now... Could you imagine what this landscape would look like without the trees? It’d be just some boring landmass. Highland Ridge is not the most interesting place… I concede. Your sister is just like these trees though - she livened things up and made life better for all of us. It was not going to be around forever… we were lucky to have the beauty of autumn. Unfortunately, we are in the winter now… but her memory will prolong this hardship you experience… this is just a season though. It will get better, she’ll always be with us but over time the hardship will lessen and the joy, the beauty of her will stay with us.”

    Chris was hanging on every word of what she was saying. He inspected the scenes she was drawing him to. They sat on the bench, staring quietly out into the semi golden landscape which was so full of quietness… of the serenity which had been so reassuring…
    Last edited by Ainslie on Fri Dec 15, 2017 4:17 am, edited 1 time in total.
    The Unified Electorates of Ainslie
    Discord gdayer, weather alarm man and Officer for Communications and Engagement in The Western Isles.
    If you're in The Western Isles, take a look at this to get involved with my nation IC
    "Aprosia and Townside: hey, let's do history and culture, things that affect many aspects of our nations
    ainslie: hehe alarm go brrrrr"

    - Aprosia, 2021

    "Ains had a panic attack. His centrism was in danger"
    - Domanania, 2019

    "Ahnslen gitmo - instead of waterboarding, they torture inmates by making them read scholalry works on political centrism
    - Orsandia, 2018

    "Factbooks are never finished, as Ains would say"
    - Torom, 2018

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    Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

    Postby Ainslie » Sat Dec 23, 2017 8:26 pm

    17 December 2017
    Highland Ridge, Wesland, Ainslie
    4:25 pm

    Janine’s eyes darted at the mailbox as she was walking down the pathway towards it. There was a second look - there was mail? Mail? In this age of technology? Probably a bill… that's all that comes in these days. An odd envelope it was - with the logos of Arendai, CBC and FNN on it.

    “You don't get this everyday…” she noted as the mother stared blankly at the paper below her. “

    Chris was walking home today and watched his mum gaze at the paper below him.

    “What is it?”
    “Looks like some international news organisations want to interview us…”
    “Thought that mess was over already”
    “‘pparently not”
    “So what do the crazies of the east [People from Wesland and Arendai] and their merry band of reporters want from us this time”
    “Personal, in depth, meaningf…
    -oh come on-
    “You want to read it”
    “I'll pass. What's the money in it? They paying us to face our demons again?”

    A taxi approaches outside… a recognisable male figure emerged from the vehicle.

    18 December 2017
    Arnton, Wesland, Ainslie
    9:33 am

    His father had become unemployed… the stupid mining companies… hopeless subsidies… the crazy pollies decided to try tear this industry down, and then all of a sudden support it? How stupid! Chris’ mind turned to the interview… he would just give them what they wanted. Head down… look introspective… answer with as little words as possible so they'd question more, so it looks like they're making progress.

    They walked along the river… it's blue colour seemed to be the only colourful thing in a land of dead winter trees… grey skies and ‘sleek’ mostly grey buildings. He hated the city - Arnton wasn't as bad as Arborai… he had a deep, dark place in his heart for Arborai… you don't know when the factory ends and the street starts in that city.

    As they were walking along the pathway, a man in his thirties, with a folder, approached them.

    “Arae Revires! Welcome to Arnton! We have a busy day ahead with much to do!”

    Chris made up his mind. This guy was way too enthusiastic about his job.

    18 December 2017
    Highland Ridge, Wesland, Ainslie
    11:15 am

    The doors opened. Two suited men sat at a cold, lifeless desk as his mother enjoyed the water cooler in the room next to them. He walked through the doors thinking that this looks more like an interrogation…

    “Hello, Mr Revire - can we call you Chris?”
    “Yeah sure why not… this isn’t the beginning of one of those teenage spy books is it?”

    One of the suits chuckled.

    “Not really...Chris...we wanted to make you an offer…two birds with one stone - ay?”
    “You’d be supporting world transparency with money on the side - all under the veil of a grief rehab centre”
    “Those exist?”
    “We know you know how to hack into the Keveraite banks… if you didn’t know - there’s speculation that they’re the criminal’s banker.
    The Oster who had remained quiet up until now took the opportunity to reply.

    “We want you to confirm this”

    Chris took his mother’s his ancestors did, he needs to make the most out of the struggle he’s been through.

    “Sure… why not.”
    “Go tell your mum about everything we’ve said but keep it quiet though, we’ll deny if this leaks.”

    18 December 2017
    Highland Ridge, Wesland, Ainslie
    7:22 pm

    Janine stared as blankly as she did at the envelope…

    “If you feel a sense of conviction to do this… who am I to stop you? Be careful though, we don’t want you to get a legal conviction though.”
    “Okay.. I’ll sign the papers then, mum.”

    Tears evolved into falling streaks of liquid down her face. This was either the start of a new, beautiful season, or a time of peril. This was the “joys” of young adulthood, she reminded herself. New generation, new adults, new ways of doing things… she reflected as she watched Chris fill out the papers below them. .. It was important to let him navigate his own course in the world. She needed to now be the guiding parent, not the driver of his vehicle….

    19 December 2017
    Highland Ridge, Wesland, Ainslie
    8:30 am

    The winding roads were equally as dangerous as the pebbles of the bichiman reminded himself of how his mum hated the roads north of Highland Ridge - and he was quickly working out why. Winter simply made dangerous roads more dangerous… there was nothing like driving these roads yourself. To make it worse, the snow was melting. He had spent what little time in his childhood on these roads transfixed by the valleys - not looking, or perhaps, comprehending the roads that his mum was attempting to navigate. Thankfully, this wasn’t a substantially long journey.

    Twenty minutes passed as he descended an extra couple of hundred metres above sea level.He was returning home… the deed was done and now it was up to the media organisations to take what they wanted from the documents. He could not wait to return to Highland Ridge, the frost that had been surrounding the building he had been working at for the past few days had a suspicious feel to it. It was time for him to forget what happened in that building, or perhaps sugarcoat it? Anyway, the job was done. He could live his life comfortably now, get some part time job and move on. Moving on… that was something he needed to do. The steering wheel titled right as there was a slight bump that reverberated around the car. A familiar lookout stood before him, as he took in the twinkling frost of the early morning which almost shined off of the plateau below him. He sat down on the bench, had some morning tea and then got back in the car and decided that the next stop he’d take would be his destination - Highland Ridge. Highland Ridge was a city where two tales were told: one of wealth 3hich he saw as so distant and somewhat exploitive, and one of common sense, grounded, down to earth people whom he had bonded with for years now. He was glad to go back now, as someone somewhat in the middle. He was committed to not be distant, not like his bank account would suggest him be like - but rather like the grounded rural folk he adored in his childhood, and appreciated in his young adulthood. It was time to move on...
    Last edited by Ainslie on Sat Dec 23, 2017 8:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
    The Unified Electorates of Ainslie
    Discord gdayer, weather alarm man and Officer for Communications and Engagement in The Western Isles.
    If you're in The Western Isles, take a look at this to get involved with my nation IC
    "Aprosia and Townside: hey, let's do history and culture, things that affect many aspects of our nations
    ainslie: hehe alarm go brrrrr"

    - Aprosia, 2021

    "Ains had a panic attack. His centrism was in danger"
    - Domanania, 2019

    "Ahnslen gitmo - instead of waterboarding, they torture inmates by making them read scholalry works on political centrism
    - Orsandia, 2018

    "Factbooks are never finished, as Ains would say"
    - Torom, 2018

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    Founded: Sep 24, 2017

    Postby Torom » Sun Dec 24, 2017 10:00 pm

    19 December 2017
    Near Hivere, Hintere, Keverai
    3:10 pm

    Loud bells ring in the factory. A loud but small whistle blows telling the workers to get their daily 5 minute break. One worker, Arrisek, rushes out of the parts factory with surprising enthusiasm and life so unsuited in such a harrowing and lifeless place to the textiles sector. He walks briskly, knowing the little time he has. Running is not allowed in the premises, so he walks as fast as he can. His pace is pretty slow but still much faster compared to the sluggish, filthy workers all around him. Arri was always an energetic man but never as much as recently. There seemed to be a spark of hope in his eyes which overpowered every other emotion he has despite the hopeless and deeply illegal situation he finds himself in in. After Renaut's rise to power, he was even more energised, like a child in a sugar high. He believes that this new administration will help him and his fellow workers.

    A woman waits on the bench outside the door, desperately needing a looong break. She's worried, seeing as there were only two minutes left she had to go back to her relentless job. A man's voice catches her attention from the far side of the room. "Sarah! Hey, how's it going?" Sarah blushes in embarrassment at her friend's carelessness and obliviousness to the people around him. She tries to hide her face, but the man still sits on the bench with her.
    "Come on Sarah, no need to be so nervous. It's just me."
    "Shut up Arrisek. Do you know how embarrassing it is with you shouting my name in front of everyone here?!"
    "It's not like they're gonna care, and besides, even if they did care to notice, they'll just get on with their lives."
    "Heh, I wish we could say that about our jobs."
    "Well we can. Right now."
    "Don't even try to do that here Arrisek! Or else you--"
    "No, not like that Sarah. I mean, we are in a rapidly developing world after all."
    "Oh great, you're gonna blabber on about Renaut again ain't ya?"
    "Well, what else is there to say I--"
    "Welp. It's time for me to go back ASAP."
    "You'd better hurry up Arri or they'll have your head for dinner."
    "Haha! Have a good one Sarah."
    "I'll see you tonight. I guess..."

    The textile factory was damp and musty. It was bright and lined with windows filled yet everything still felt grey and dim. Sarah sighed with disappointment, her regular pessimism settling in after the previous scene of playful banter with her friend. She sometimes wonders at the oddness of it all. How does one, in such a vicious and cruel environment remain so strong and filled with vitality? She sometimes thanks her God for bringing her such a great friend and coworker, but now, it's time to go back to the factory and the unending cycle of industrial work.

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    Postby Covonant » Tue Dec 26, 2017 9:30 am

    Roberticis, Capitaline: Private Residence of the Opposition Leader

    The Christmas recess in Parliament afforded Imperatus Marl some time off to celebrate the holiday season with his family who left him in Coventry for wanting to get away from political happenings. He took the train ride from Coventry Grand Station to Capitaline Train Route where his wife and two boys where anxiously waiting to greet him. It has been 5 months since he had lost the election and roughly four months since he saw he wife and children. Julia was adamant that she will be moving back to her house in Capitaline following Impertus's defeat at the poll and she took their youngest son Lucas aged 13 with her. Malachi aged 18 had just started university where he studies Law at the University of Covonant. He had already arrived home since mid December following the ending if the semester.

    Impertus's heart was filled with a warm feeling as he thought of the fun and excitement he will have with his family. The thought of getting away from Coventry and it's toxic political climate especially now when the country was at war and the Prime Minister was busy making enemies, for once Imperatus felt isolated from the madness.

    The train slowly came to a stop. Praetorian Guards following the Opposition Leader escorted him safely off the train. Persons took out their camera to take the picture of Imperatus as he flashed his trademark smile and shook hands. Deep down he hates it and now that he wanted to see his family more than ever he hated it even more.

    "Alright that's enough" Expressed one of the guards, as he blocked persons from interacting with Imperatus. Imperatus felt gratitude towards the act as he glanced around the train station in hopes of spotting his family. He didn't have to look for long as he saw his wife and boys walking towards him. With much excitement he walked halfway on the journey to meet them. Arms open wide and kisses exchanged had the two expressed their public display of affection. The joy of seeing his two boys Imperatus kissed their foreheads and thumped the shoulder of the eldest son.

    "I see you have been making use of the gym. I am sure the ladies can't keep their hands off you" Imperatus stated

    "He has no time for girls now Imp, his education comes first" Expressed Julia, his wife to which he agreed and kissed her ljghtly.

    "Sir the car has arrived" Announced the guard

    "Alright let's go home I am feeling very home sick. I hope you made my favourite Christmas pudding Julia. I have been craving it since I was in Parliament waiting for the break" Imperatus informed

    Once they arrived home, Imperatus was struck at how beautiful his home looked. The Christmas decorations were all placed out with the lights covering the trees and walls of the house. On the inside the Christmas tree was put up with the decorations and light bringing a rush of memories to Imperatus. He noticed however that the star that was normally placed atop the tree was missing.

    "Julia darling, I love what you have done with the place but I notice the star on the tree is missing" Asked Imperatus.

    "I can't seem to find it and I gave up searching" responded Julia

    "No worries it is still delightful. I am going to go freshen up. I have a lot planned for us while I am here" Imperatus expressed as he gleefully made his way to the masters quarters to unwind for the long break from politics.
    Last edited by Covonant on Tue Dec 26, 2017 9:37 am, edited 1 time in total.
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    Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

    Postby Ainslie » Wed Dec 27, 2017 4:42 pm

    23 December 2017
    Arnton, Ainslie - Building #2 of the Ahnslen Intelligence Community
    11:20 pm

    “Jeff, take a look at this” he mentioned as he pointed to the screen
    “I think we’re gonna need to get MOAA in.”

    Within thirty minutes, a very tired looking Minister walked into the room.

    “Gimme a look” she said with a hint of frustration. A few minutes passed until she responded again.
    “Get me a phone.” Michael, another analyst, brought a phone to her and she quickly dialed a number. Someone, somehow was on the phone at this time of night - and it wasn’t who she was looking for.

    “Hi, it’s Caitlin Marsden here. Can I get the Night Collura [Collura is a high ranking member in the court system] in charge of documentation? “


    “Good evening, Ms Marden. What’s happening”

    “I’m going to need a black order.”

    “On what?”

    “Possibly the biggest leaks in Isles history. This is a pretty big expose I’ve got here in front of me thanks to Arendai International. We need to investigate and verify the claims before what could be fake spreads like wildfire in the morning.”

    “Oh. Consider it done then.”

    She smiled, lowered the phone and dialed another number.

    “Hello, Arendai International, Jessica Speaking”. They had no clue what they were in for, Marsden thought to herself.

    “Hi, it’s the Minister of Ahnslen Affairs. I need to ring the highest executive still at work.”
    “It’s late!”
    “It is.” She directly replied, as if she was not ready to take excuses.
    “I’ll get him for you.”

    She rolled her eyes… ‘him’ is the executive, ‘her’ is the receptionist. Unlike the government, they seem to be stuck in the 60s. She reflected on the possible need for stronger workplace programs to reduce gender inequality. Soon enough, a grumpy, old, tired voice introduced himself on the phone.

    “Good evening, Mr Gardiner. I’m
    • I know, now what do you want at this hour?

    “I want to know about the articles regarding the leaks out of Keverai that your media organisation has. May I remind you of the Criminal Investigation (Activity Disclosure) Act 1998 that you’ve violated? Or perhaps the Ahnslen Media Responsibility Guidelines you just broke?”
    “I’m well aware of those, Ms Marsden. We comply with them.”
    “Well, just in case you’re not. That topic has a black notice on it. If i see specific names in the papers tomorrow about this, rest assured, action can be taken.”
    “I’m well aware, Ms Marsden”, he replied with a stronger tone.
    “Thank you for your understanding.” she replied in an impersonal manner.

    She turned and thanked the two watchful eyes…

    “Any other media outlets caught wind of this?” she enquired after the phone was no longer with her.”

    “No Madarne (Ahnslen for Madame).”
    “Well then, Good night.”

    She spun around and walked out of the door, satisfied that she will not wake up with some issue blowing up in her face.

    “No specific names…” She muttered to herself as she drifted off to sleep.
    Last edited by Ainslie on Wed Dec 27, 2017 4:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
    The Unified Electorates of Ainslie
    Discord gdayer, weather alarm man and Officer for Communications and Engagement in The Western Isles.
    If you're in The Western Isles, take a look at this to get involved with my nation IC
    "Aprosia and Townside: hey, let's do history and culture, things that affect many aspects of our nations
    ainslie: hehe alarm go brrrrr"

    - Aprosia, 2021

    "Ains had a panic attack. His centrism was in danger"
    - Domanania, 2019

    "Ahnslen gitmo - instead of waterboarding, they torture inmates by making them read scholalry works on political centrism
    - Orsandia, 2018

    "Factbooks are never finished, as Ains would say"
    - Torom, 2018

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    Dormill and Stiura
    Posts: 961
    Founded: Sep 19, 2015
    Left-Leaning College State

    Postby Dormill and Stiura » Fri Dec 29, 2017 11:58 am

    Demian Yumei-Tracey, Kevere's Landing, Keverai
    21 December, 2017

    A man nearing his mid-Thirties threw the doors of this quaint, but certainly not small, designer clothes store open, briskly walking through. Dressed slightly heavier than what the forecasts listed for today, he flashes a quick smile at the young girl working the register before heading for the dressing rooms.

    Unknown to almost everybody else in the store, there was always one dressing room that is marked “Do Not Use” in all red text, which is where the man walks through. This dressing room is in actuality the entrance to Blacksite: Irin Col, part of the BRS/SI’s Project Urgent Light to establish and maintain secret Blacksites throughout the Isles in an attempt to increase the effectiveness of their operations in certain areas. After descending a dark shaft to the actual safe house, the man takes off most of his heavier clothes to show his face; verdant eyes on nearly pale skin with a large and well kept beard to finish the look off.

    He continues to walk forward until being stopped by a masked figure, holding up a tablet which displays a face recognition scanner, the man holds the tablet up to his face, followed by a flash of green light confirming his identity. “Welcome back, sir” the masked man remarks after stepping aside to allow the man to continue on.

    “How are things progressing?” he asks another person who is standing over a railing.

    “So far, we’ll have two new sleepers ready for deployment before next week. Conditioning the Imperialonian was harder than anticipated, but they all crack eventually.” the other person replies.

    “You sound slightly overconfident about our progress.” the man notes.

    “I know we could be doing more, but there’s an issue.”

    “What kind of issue?”

    “Chery recently confirmed an attempt to breach the security of our servers. I feared this might be the beginning of a wider attack by somebody else so I decided to reduce the manpower here until our security can be reviewed and hardened.”

    “Who do you suspect it was that tried to attack us?”

    “Zero clue, sir. Could’ve been OVAST, could’ve been Balnik, Atnaia, even Belle Isle could have initiated the attack. Chery hasn’t given us any information on where the attack originated.”

    “Fair enough, how about Janus?”

    “We’re waiting on your approval to send a new shipment of arms and men. Operatives on the ground say they should be ready with two more shipments and another week of preparation.”

    “Make it happen, the sooner we can accomplish Janus, the sooner we can give the new Administration a martial victory.”

    The two continue to stand over the remainder of the Blacksite, contemplating their next moves.

    In the meantime, at the port in Kevere's Landing, a cargo ship destined for Maullon, filled with guns and men for the eventual revolution in Charbagnia.
    The United Republics of Dormill and Stiura
    Freedom, Unity, Democracy
    Join The Western Isles and chart your own path!
    "Interacting with Dormill and Stiura; violently." -Balnik, 2021
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    Liberal Democratic Socialists

    Postby Ostehaar » Fri Dec 29, 2017 2:13 pm

    23 December, 2017
    Porohare, Ostehaar
    7:00 am

    "DFO to aid Keverai in border-defense," Alex Vulf, head of Unit 1088, read aloud unhurriedly as he flipped through the pages of the morning newspaper. He continued and read another section of that report, "around fifty DFO specialists and advisers are expected to operate there." Alex smiled dryly and looked at the person sitting across the desk from him, Minister of Defense Aarin Dulikh.

    The Minister chuckled. "Since when do you have time to read the morning news?" He reached forward and took the newspaper to see the report himself. "Anyway, I don't see a problem with this phrasing... it sounds reasonable and fitting. Our people did a good job on this."

    "I'm not saying they didn't," Alex said, "I just found it amusing, as I always have, that people from my unit are usually referred to as 'DFO advisers' or 'government advisers' in the media."

    "Same goes with Dihn's guys," Aarin replied, referring to Dihn Brohn Sjast, the head of the OVAST, Ostehaar's espionage agency. This agency, along with Alex Vulf's Unit 1088, were together the two main operational agencies of Ostehaar's Ministry of Defense. While the OVAST was all about intelligence and special operations - Unit 1088 was a much smaller and more secretive agency, mainly responsible for Industrial espionage, covert economic ties, and what they called "deep influence operations". The two agencies usually worked together, but no one could deny the inherent rivalry between them.

    "True," Alex admitted.

    "Alright," the Minister said as he put the newspaper away. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk, and gestured at the notebook Alex laid on the desk earlier. "What can you tell me now?"

    Alex cleared his throat and opened the notebook. He quickly scanned through the talking points in it, and then closed it. "So as of yesterday around midnight, all teams finished setting up their local infrastructure, including the heavy equipment. They did it around the same time the DFO guys worked with the Keverans. They should be ready to begin specific operations tonight and maybe even gather some initial data... you know, from relevant geography to individuals. That should be enough work for a day or so, and if all goes as planned, they'd be ready to make direct approach by the middle of next week. We have several Vaalar operatives helping us out there," he said, referring to OVAST agents, "and our 1088 team is around ten agents."

    "Impressive," the Minister responded.

    "We aim to please," Alex said dryly.

    23 December, 2017
    Near Hivere, Hintere, Keverai
    11:30 pm

    Alen adjusted his scope for optical perfection, barely producing the characteristic high-pitched mechanical sound of the moving lenses and rotating filters. Keeping his fingers on the camera, he suppressed his breathing as much as he could and relaxed his muscles, before exerting an ever-so-slight pressure on the main button.

    "Just the right polarization," he whispered to himself, stretching the first word of the sentence. For the first time in roughly twenty minutes, his hands left their position on the camera and he reached to his bag. He grabbed a small electronic device, put it on the ground under his mouth, and stuck an earpiece in his ear.

    "Black Hole on," he said quietly, "ready when you are."

    "Got it," a female voice in his ears replied. Dora, or Aurora Borealis, was managing this current OVAST mission outside a suspected factory in Hivere. Alen and another operative, Jehn, were stationed in high places around the area with orders to document whatever they could. A fourth operative, Arik, was in-charge of operation security. He acted as a second-in-command to Dora, and at this time was simply driving around between the agents and making sure that they were not being followed or watched.

    "Kingmaker here," Arik said on the radio, "remember to wait for my confirmation before you actually start taking the pictures. Same goes to you, Ultraviolet."

    "Understood," Alen and Jehn both replied.

    "Status on the target?" Dora asked.

    Jehn was the first to answer. "Still no major movements. I see lights inside but haven't seen anyone go in or out, or any vehicles other than those already parked there."

    "Alright, thanks. I guess we'll have to wait..."

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    Founded: Sep 24, 2017

    Postby Torom » Thu Jan 04, 2018 2:41 am

    3 January 2017
    Near Kevera
    Early in the Morning

    A light gray car moves along a road in the dark. Its lights being the only thing visible for miles on end. In that car, two friends, exhausted, are on their way for a little trip, a trip for something to change. A change that's coming. The car moves to the side in a moment and stands idle in the dark void.

    "Huh, wuzz goin' on?"
    "Rise and shine sleepy Sarah, it's your turn to drive."
    "What? Can you do it Arri? I'm so *yawn* tired."
    "No way Sarah. You promised to do the last leg of the drive no matter what."
    "Alright. Alright, but can we at least take a break first? It's so cramp here."
    "Ok then. Come on. Let's take a breather."

    In the outdoors on the dark road, little is heard amongst the roaring engine and the faint rustle of grass along the meadow, invisible from the view. Even when free from the cage that their car felt like, the void strecthing out before them gives a feeling of both ednless beyond and the worse of confinement. The two stand on the edge of the road looking to what little of the meadow they can see, since their bosoms were aching at this point from sitting down for so long. The sky is now a dark blue with a light tint of orange coming from the east, but dawn is still some time away. They would be inKevera by the time dawn come, but the sky is still a blank emptiness with clouds blocking out any starlight.

    "What's wrong Sarah?"
    "Why did we have to come here."
    "To the protest? Well, we--"
    "Came here to clamor for change and our rights. Yeah yeah yeah, but why do WE have to go. We could've just left other people to protest for every single one of us here. I didn't want to spend what little time I have for myself to just go with you in some dumb road trip just to shout a ton for a few hours!"
    "Sarah, bu--"
    "Don't even Arri, I don't want to hear your excuses. Let's just get this over wi--"

    Arri suddenly grabs Sarah's arm in a quick jolt. Sarah flinches for a second but she regains herself. She goes to see her friend's face. A serious look she has never seen before on his face is now being directed at her. It struck fear in her heart but she won't let something like this shake her.

    "What is it Arrisek Marion?! What do you want?"
    "We are not leaving yet. We are going to talk this out and--"
    "Like that's gonna happen! You're just gonna make thigns seem so nice again liek you always do!"
    "You're so hopeful and happy that it sometimes makes me sick! How can you be like this?!"
    "That's what I thought. Let's go."

    "You think it's easy to be so happy all the time Sarah? You think it comes naturally? It's been so hard to try to keep things upbeat ever since we had to work in that factory. When we moved there, you seemed to have lost everything you were. I wanted the old you back. I wanted my friend back, so I kept a smile on, but none of that seems to be working. Is it Sarah?!"
    "I take that as a no. Since that's the case, you can say goodbye to the Arrisek you knew until now. Just dri-- Huh?"

    Bright light shines out and emanates endlessly across the field around them, bringing life and color all around them. The yellow of the grass in the dawn sunlight everywhere around them shone like gold with the dew making them shine ever so brightly and in the distance, farmers' voices and the crow of roosters ready for the day ahead, and on the horizon it seems, Kevera, their destination is close. This bright light doesn't just bring in life to the area and enlightens our friends but it has seemingly removed the tension, the anger, all of it. As if the rays of the sun were sent from God himself to bring salvation to the world. The two stand still as like statues for well over a minute, staring at their surroundings in awe, unaware of the time that has passed. Dawn had arisen early today and it had brought a change of mood fortunately enough.

    "Wow. Look at that Sarah."
    "It's amazing. Everything's so beautiful."
    "Umm.. Sarah. I'm.. well... I'm sorry for my outburst. Had I known what I'd been doing had hurt you. I would've--"
    "No! I'm sorry. You were just happy to help me be happy at least for a little bit. I guess I was the one who was inconsiderate. Maybe, this trip won't be so bad after all. I've always wanted to go to Kevera, but not like this, but this could be good for both of us."
    "It will be Sarah. Trust me. It will. Oh!"
    "What's wrong?"
    "Look at the time! We should get going to Kevera now!"
    "Oh right I almost forgot. Let's get going. I'll drive."

    The old dusty vehicle moves past the golden field. Not too fast, yet not that slow either, but a rather slow pace for a car on an empty straight road. Despite lack of sleep, Sarah and Arrisek are filled with energy but not the old energy of Arrisek in the factory, but rather an energy of sincere hope and friendship. They took their time taking in the scenery as Kevera gets bigger and bigger on the horizon. It's almost time for one of their biggest moments in ttheir lives to begin, and they are ready for it to happen.

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    Father Knows Best State

    Postby Townside » Wed Jan 10, 2018 1:44 am

    10 January 2018
    Renaut Residence, Kevera, Keverai

    Burnell Renaut of the Party for International Progress, Leader and Chief Consul of the Independent State of Keverai!

    Isn’t that grand and glamorous?

    If only.

    Hard to believe that was who he was. Renaut, the Chief Consul of the gilded Keveraite state, looking quite like a broken man in private.

    He was presently trying to reconcile the facts of the recent happenings with his leadership of the country. His thoughts and blank expression lingered uselessly over the glass of water in his tired hands. He would have much preferred something stronger to ease him into the evening, like the finest of wines, was it not for the fact that he was sorely trying to nurse the inexplicable pain that was splitting his head in two.

    His wife leaned over, gentle and concerned, as was her usual way to care for her husband since his election. She placed her warm touch on his shoulder, and whispered kind words for him to hear, about how he should drink his water, rest and relax, that sort of thing. Usually, Renaut would smile back lovingly, perhaps take her hand in his as if they were teenagers freshly in love again.

    But not recently. No. Nowadays, his wife’s actions were annoying him.

    How would she know how his job was like? If he could ‘rest’ and ‘relax’ as easily as she said, wouldn’t the world just be dandy?

    And his kids.

    Renaut regretted to even think of this, but honestly, what did complimenting a messily scrawled piece of kiddy ‘art’ got to do with running a country?

    He was the leader of a sovereign country. A head of state. And his family was bogging him down.

    This train of thought was never usual in Renaut’s old self, but it was an increasingly prevalent thought as the weeks and months following his election went by. Before that, Renaut always fancied himself a family man. A good man who treated his wife fairly and was good at raising his children. Now, all of those hopes and dreams slipped further and further out of his longing arms as his spirit was embroiled in the fiery realm of Keveraite politics.

    The problems started off small: an incorrect label for Torom as a nation of crumbling ruins rather than as the nation of beautiful Baroque architecture; a misspelling of
    Ainslie’ as ‘Samudera’ in that other document; accidentally calling Bhikkustan and New Aapelistan as a useful union of nations…

    He thought he could handle it, but the problems just kept blowing up from there. Ministers, Secretaries, Judges and Civil Servants all arguing and bickering, natural human inefficiency and disagreements slowly but surely consumed the office of the Chief Consul until Renaut wasn’t sure whether he was managing the country that elected him, or constantly patching up the tenuous relationships with those behind the scenes who were keeping him in power.

    And as those who kept him in power gobbled for his undivided attention, the affairs of the country and his family slipped to the periphery of his mental vision, until the release of the Papers hit him harder than a Vancouvian High Speed Train. It was so easy then for the media to brand him as useless, for the protesters to call him a pig.
    With his work life in shambles, Renaut hoped he could turn to his family for some sort of commiseration, but even they were now failing in the eyes of his ever growing standards. He never saw this before, but now that his eyes were open to human incompetence in his office, he realised his own family wasn’t very different.

    “Take the painkiller and drink your water, honey,” said his wife in a concerned manner.

    Unusually annoyed by his wife’s incessant ‘lecturing’, Renaut decided to carelessly pop the pill into his mouth and take big, continuous gulps of water as if to prove her wrong or shut her up.

    What a mistake that was.

    On his third or fourth gulp the water and the pill decided to enter his throat the wrong way and Renaut began choking and coughing up the water from deep within the wrong side of his throat.

    Renaut let out a less than stately scream as he flung the wineglass of water into the opposite wall. It shattered, its tiny diamond bits crashing onto the carpeted floors and the water marred the expensive painting that was the target of Renaut’s outburst.

    Everything else after that was a blur. His vision was red with fury. He remembered his children looking up from their play activities in worry, shock and fear, and his wife gasping in horror. Keveraite soldiers, his bodyguards, stormed into the room expecting to find an antagonist, but were shocked to find their one and only Consul to be their villain.

    Renaut shouted.

    He shouted to his heart’s content, ignoring the splitting headache in his head as he shook his head in a frenzy, barking about how a leader like him should at least be able to swallow water and a pill!

    Surely he’s had the hardest starting two months of any Keveraite leader?

    Why can’t people see that?

    Why can’t people be more reasonable and give him some credit, even if just a nominal amount?

    In the midst of his tantrum, his wife ordered the soldiers to bundle their children out of the room. The maids, who usually cleared up any mess diligently to keep the residence clean, abandoned the shattered glass and ruined painting to flee the room as well.

    “Burnell!” the wife pleaded as she approached the seemingly mad man of a leader.

    He didn’t apologise though. He just stood there with his mouth agape. He didn’t know if his ego could take an apology.

    He wasn’t afforded the opportunity, however. His wife spoke first, in a sullied voice forced through a series of pained sobs.

    “B-B-Burnell… I k-know your job is a difficult one… b-but… why?” she paused to clear her nose before continuing “we’ve hardly seen you around, you’ve been completely cold to us, the children are missing you, and you even missed our personal Christmas and New Years celebrations… and for what? Your political ‘friends’, as you like to call them? Are they that more important than your family… your children?”

    She stood back up and dusted herself off, before looking at Renaut straight in the eye, with a fierceness and ferocity Renaut had never seen before in his usually calm wife.

    “Your children are kind and forgiving, and so was I, but I warn you Burnell… if you make excuses for your own daughter’s birthday tomorrow, I shall never forgive you!”

    She studied Renaut’s terrified face for a moment, before making one last statement.

    “Tomorrow, 6:30 pm at the Grand Argus hotel in downtown Kevara,” she said so formally as if she were extending an invitation as a secretary rather than as a wife.

    She spun on her heels and exited the room, not once looking back at her disheveled husband, as she normally did.

    Renaut proceeded towards the door, but it wasn’t to follow his wife. It wasn’t to make an apology. It was to grab the door and violently slam it into its frame, shutting himself and his own angst off from the rest of the residence. The pristine mirrors and dangling crystal chandelier shook worriedly.

    Renaut ran impatient hands through his thinning silver hair as he sat back down, starring uselessly into the distant wall again, before drawing his hands down before his face to inspect his pudgy fingers.

    His hands were shaking uncontrollably, and his vision was blurry. Had he always been like that? Also, he’d gained weight. He never realised, but his hectic first two months in office left little time for trivial things such as health and exercise. And his joints… how they hurt.

    Just then, the searing pain came spitting back down his head, and he grabbed a fistful of his thin, greying hair - as if that would help - to handle the pain that was definitely made worse by his unwarranted outburst just a few moments before.

    Renaut sighed, and almost let slip some tears, but he sucked it up. It wasn’t just his headache that was getting to him, it was his career and his family life. Early and short was his current tenure as Chief Consul, but he felt like he was already bearing the weight of a mountain that was crushing and tearing apart the ability to be a good leader and a family man that he knew he always had.

    If only his leadership was as smooth sailing as that of Zackery Carlisle, the main Grand Prince of Townside, that successful new country just south of Keverai’s former ruler. Renaut read up on Carlisle when a document bearing Carlisle’s signature arrived before him requesting for an embassy exchange. Carlisle, who was two decades younger than Renaut, was a soldier of the Townside Special Air Service, and apparently he braved grueling battles, fights and even torture during the Great Christmas Island War, and emerged a war hero. Headaches and political squabbling probably consumed the tough and respected Carlisle less than it did to Renaut, and on top of that Carlisle somehow maintained a loving and peaceful family in the form of a loving brother, wife and several children. Perhaps he could take a few lessons from Carlisle some time.

    That was, if they ever got to meet, because right now, Renaut’s political career seemed to be going to the dogs, and with the recent expose, he wasn’t sure if he would still be in office for any meaningful time to come.

    The phone rang, shaking Renaut out of his thoughts. The Keveraite leader rubbed his temple as he grabbed the device in his hand to see that it was one of his secretaries calling him.

    He answered the phone and greeted him.

    “Good evening, sir” said the secretary over the phone “I just needed to inform you about a last minute meeting tomorrow to discuss further what the government ought to do about the recent… revelations.”

    “Yes… yes of course,” Renaut agreed, suppressing a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

    “Good, this will include everyone of note in attendance, and will take place at 6:30 pm over dinner-...”

    “6:30 pm!?” Renaut exclaimed suddenly.

    The secretary over the phone paused for a while in shock, before continuing “...yes, sir. 6:30 pm. Is there any problem?”

    Renaut got up from his seat and walked towards his desk overlooking the window. He stared out at the moon for a while, before his gaze was caught by the photo of his family he kept on his desk at all times. They were smiling in that picture.

    “Well, I mean, it is a very late time to have such an important meeting. Surely we can move it forward?”

    “Unfortunately, sir. You have several meetings and other things to attend to, such as that meeting regarding Ostehaar, no?”

    Renaut took another pause, his eyes locked on the photo of his family “Look, tomorrow is my daughter’s birthday and I plan to spend time with my family. I’m afraid I just can’t attend. You will have to send my apologies-...”

    “Sir,” the secretary interrupted, which was very unusual practice “I cannot help but mention that I have been overhearing rumours that you may not be in office for very long… that your reign is to be known as the biggest flop in Keveraite history… due to some reasons or another… and it would be very, how shall I put this, providential… for those seeking to remove you, if you choose not to attend such an important meeting, that is also being attended by many significant individuals of the Party.”

    Renaut’s eyes widened in shock as he looked at his phone weirdly.

    Did he…?

    Did this man just…?

    “Sir?” came the voice from the other end of the phone line.

    Renaut looked back at the photo of his family, his mind racing faster than the same Vancouvian High Speed Train.

    He brought the phone back to his ear.

    “6:30 pm tomorrow? Give it to the deputy,” Renaut said.

    He could practically hear his secretary fuming as they ended the call after a brief bout of stiff formalities.

    Renaut sat back down. The pain in his head was now gone. Maybe the painkillers were working.

    But it was replaced by something else. Something more dreadful. Something that could not be linked to any physical ailment, which eluded the treatment of even the best medicine.

    It was completely emotional.

    It was heartache.
    Member of the The Western Isles.

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    Founded: Feb 11, 2009

    Postby Covonant » Sun Feb 04, 2018 5:43 pm

    Office of the Opposition Leader

    Imperatus Marl was busy scoping through the Coventry Times. It was weeks since he last heard any talks of the Keverai papers or his implication in the reports. He felt as though he had dodged a bullet. Having worried for the entirety of the Consul recess and his vacation over the Christmas break, he was slowly coming back to terms of being a good Opposition.

    Thump thump thump

    "Enter" Imperatus shouted

    "Sorry to disturb your reading sir, but Mr. Lucius Frith from the IDC is here to see you" informed his aide.

    "Why yes of course, see him in" Imperatus ordered as he closed the papers and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. Standing he greeted Mr. Frith and invite him to sit as he offered him coffee.

    "Oh no Mr. Marl that is not necessary as I won't be long. Normally my position allows me to privately discuss matters with the Prime Minister but we have gathered information from your administration papers that presents damaging findings. It is only a matter of time before the Transparency Committee finds out about the corruption undertaken with your governments involvement in San Javier. We have ample proof that shows that you along with a Mr. Marcus Quintus the head of Guvonant provided arms in exchange for drugs at which you made a private earning from. The money earned from that venture placed in an offshore account in Keverai. I would advise you to inform your party of such findings as I forsee this becoming a scandalous venture. Before I leave I would advise you also prepare to resign. Sir" Expressed Mr. Frith as he walked out of the Opposition Leader's office.

    Imperatus sat there a bit shocked but not entirely as he knew he would have been found implicated sooner or later. Feeling the pressure of events yet to occur he throw the tray with the coffee on the floor as he entered into a state of rage and sadness.

    Ministry of Defense

    Defense Minister Crixus Ignacio had for the most part ignored the report of the Keverai papers. Being a senior government official he was of the view his party and by extension the government will cover it up and protect him. For now, it seems to be going that way. He had received support from Prime Minister Gais that he would be protected. Propaganda was the order of the Crassus Gais led administration. From San Montagna to Charbagnia, from Atnaia to the Cooperative Union, the administration was good at turning media attention to other pressing matters but for Minister Ignacio, new revelations was about to turn events in a not so favourable way.

    As the Minister sat at his desk reviewing his daily Military Brief, a two page letter fell out of the brief. In it was the head if the Federal Institute for Criminal Affairs advising the Minister to address the concerns following new leads to suggest that the Minister was profiting from illegal activities currently taking place in San Javier.

    The letter ended by saying.

    "It is my advise that you actively look into early retirement, as such findings will not sit well with the committee"

    Such words was enough to strike concern for the Minister.

    "Amelia, send around the vehicle. I have been urgently summoned to speak to the Prime Minister" Crixus ordered his private secretary as he wiped his sweaty palms on his jacket.
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    Postby Torom » Sun Dec 23, 2018 5:45 am

    3:20pm - Gusatter, Torom
    Arrisek looks out the dust-covered window, giving a glimpse of the outdoors, covered in the yellowish afternoon sun. It’s been two weeks since he and Sarah had gone to Torom for political asylum and here they are now in their temporary home in Gusatter, where although not very quiet, is much more peaceful than what Arrisek could hope to achieve anywhere as a sweatshop worker in Keverai.

    For the first time in who knows how long, Arrisek could finally relax and stay still; to hope for a better future in his new life and his new home with his friend, together... and yet... no matter how safe he is now from all the troubles, from all the pain back home, he still worries. He still fears. He brings joy and hope to his friends but he can never bring them to himself. He can never keep what he gives and he gets left with nothing to hold on to.

    The bathroom door swings open, bringing with it a gust of warm mist born from hot water and with it, Sarah. Already fully dressed but with a towel wrapped around her hair, she walks over to the TV, grabbing her hairdryer along the way. Arrisek remains looking out through the window, thinking about what’s to come, ignoring her friend’s entrance.

    “Hey Arri?”
    “Huh?! Uhh.. W-what’s up Sarah?” says a startled Arrisek.
    “Woah there. Did I scare you? You sounded like a frightened kitty,” she laughs.
    “Oh haha! Sorry ‘bout that. You just caught me off guard.”
    “Hey, are you okay? You seem to be kinda off.”
    “I’m fine. Just looking outdoors,” Arrisek replies harshly.
    “Are you sure? You seem--”
    “I’m fine. Trust me. I was just relaxing,” quickly replies Arrisek with his usual bright grin.

    7:15am - Wastov Park, Gusatter, Torom
    Running just for the sake of running was never a regular thing for Sarah. If she was running, she would be hurrying, be chased or be late. It was never normal for her to run with no reason but her own desires. The morning was cool that day. Gentle warm sunlight breaks through the thick leaf cover over the path, turning grasses’ morning dew into sparkling jewels, glittering like gems when the breeze began to blow. It was the perfect time to run.

    Unlike her friend, Sarah left behind her worries back in Keverai. She jumped at even the prospect of finally being able to leave that place for greener pastures. She couldn’t be happier at the time. It was as if a dream come true. Since then, Sarah had begun to become what her friend tries to be… happy. It was a new life; a new start where the possibilities are endless and she would’ve been ready...

    If only she had prepared for the worst….

    Sarah had run into a shadowy area of the park, away from sight of any civilian nearby. It was usually a quiet place, filled with calm, a place for picnics and rest. Here, two men, dressed fully in black lunged forward from the dark shadows of the trees heading towards Sarah. They were quiet. No risks were taken. She was knocked out and carried back into the dark by the men, never to experience joy again.

    10:37pm - Gusatter, Torom
    “Oh god. Oh god. OH GOD! Where could she be? She hasn’t been back since yesterday. What do I do? What do I do?”

    Panic runs over Arrisek’s face. He knew something bad would happen. It had to happen. Things have been going too well for them. There was no way there couldn’t have been a trade-off. He walks back and forth in his room. Shouting. Screaming. No one can find her and he is about to go mad. Then suddenly…

    “Breaking News! Traitor to Keverai Taken into Custody.”
    “Yesterday, two Keveraite agents, under the Judicial Council have discovered and taken custody a certain outlaw of Keverai. She is reported to be named ‘Sarah’--”
    “We have live video footage of this Sarah right now.”

    Arrisek bangs the side of his palm onto the screen. Trying to reach his friend through the screen in burning anger and immense desperation as one last-ditch attempt.

    “Sarah, do you claim to have commited treason to your own country to whom you have sworn allegiance to and left to Torom to escape the consequences of your actions?”
    “.. Yes… Yes, I commited treason to my own country and ran away to avoid punishment. I am guilty of all these charges. I’ll take any punishment. Just leave Ar--”


    It was too much. One can only handle so much heartache. Tragedy had fallen on the two friends and as a true tragedy is.. you can never escape it. The façade is no more. The mask has fallen off. No more joy. No more light. No more hope. No more friends. All that is left is desperation and anger. Everything he had has fallen apart before his own eyes and he is for the first time in his life, truly alone. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. He laughs with a smile. Hands sliding down the screen into his stomach. Tears running down his cheeks. He laughs crazily as if a soul possessed. He just laughs… and.. he laughs.. and… he… laughs… and...


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