Dark Harvest II: War Hawks With Frickin' Lasers [ATTN DH1]

[TurtleShroom]

{OOC: Pardon the wait. I'm not forgetting this. I am sorting out other RPs and dealing with what little RL affairs I have in the meantime. A post like that takes a while to work out a reponse to! That's a complement! }

[The Ctan]

(No worries! I've been giving some thought to my peace terms... as you'll see soon)

[The Ctan]

A person can be expected to act responsibly only if he has responsibility. This is human nature.

~ President Richard M. Nixon, Second Inaugural Address

The chaos that swept the city of Gerry was not as unexpected to the natives might have expected. They had a vast basis of experience liberating countless peoples from countless forms of oppression. They would certainly not admit a mistake, nor would they blame themselves. It was the fact that these people had never learned to be free citizens that caused them to go quite so wild.

From her command barque, Cyash watched as flights of aircraft dumped fire-foam on buildings that had caught light in the brief period of anarchy. It was in that at least, routine, they were equipped for many kinds of war, and occupation was merely one of them. She didn’t blame the natives, nor think a mass outburst of rioting and abuse demonstrative of some kind of inferiority or inherent criminality. These people had never had the chance to express themselves, the mere fact that they expressed themselves in such an ill-disciplined manner was proof positive of the mentally-demeaning treatment they had received.

With the entire city tranquilized, or at least everyone inside it, the occupiers were free to indulge themselves at their leisure, rounding up the natives, reduced to a mindless and happy state, it was essentially like dealing with an entire city of amicable drunkards.

Cyash’s forces didn’t even bother with drugs, or organized crime. As far as she was concerned, the mafia were the purest form of governance in this country; they were an organization of criminals, to be sure, but so was the local government. This one at least didn’t make patently fraudulent claims to be doing His work when they oppressed the weak. Before the Lunar Friendship Cannon hit, drug shops were opened using confiscated or abandoned buildings rapidly reopened. Front organizations disappeared, and signs were put up for the Headquarters of various Families, who were invited to form an Interim Concerned Citizens’ Council.

To a pure TurtleShroomer, it was like the criminals had won completely. As though the mafia had conquered the city.

And then, after they’d won, they blasted the city!

“Told you so! Told you so! Told you so!” one mushroom continued to shout from his pillory. “Told you so! Told you so! Told you so!” Two shadows hovered over him. He was the last one to be chanting it.

They were not merely necrons, but wraiths, terrible skeletal machines that hovered, covered in blades and long energy whips.

“Ahm too pure for ya devil hawse mast-uhs sorcery!”

“Is that so?” a voice said behind him, as one of the necron lords approached, “It was inevitable that some of you would prove resistant.”

“It’s because ah am too pure for ya!”

“Perhaps,” the necron said.

“We hear you mushrooms like cool dark places,” the necron said, as two of its fellows brought on something that looked like nothing so much as a trash can; lifting the hinged lid off, one could see that it was a very cramped space indeed, and oh so dark. The metal was solid, and it was lined with dweomerite, a rare magic-dampening material to stop him using his telekinesis.

As they lifted the mushroom up, he could see that it was padded around where his stalk would sit.

One side of the metal cylinder had writing on it, and it said:

CONTENTS: ONE (1)
SAPIENT MUSHROOM
(TURTLESHROOMIAN)

↑ THIS WAY UP ↑

Above that were two hatches, one of which was open, and sat over a small glass pane, that would sit just where his eyes were, and let him see out, while another below that could be opened where his mouth was, but was locked with a padlock. The cap would rest on a hefty piece of padding, securing him fully and stopping him moving at all.

The necrons lowered him into the can, padding holding him tight, and began to screw down the lid atop it.

At the bottom of the container was a tray onto which his food could be put, and slid underneath him without letting him get out in any way, while water could be spritzed onto him carefully.

“We'll find out how you managed to resist the Lunar Friendship Cannon, my friend. And then, we'll improve it,” the necron said, “nothing can stand against science. Don't worry, you won't be hurt, and you'll be let go eventually... I'm sure... if the ponies are nice.”

They screwed the lid down on the mushroom, and the necron lord slid the hatch over his eyes shut. "Take this to the Herd."

[TurtleShroom]

{OOC: The creatures that resist the Death Ray resist it by the "compelling" power of Christ. As was once demonstrated in a RP with New Amerik, the collective religiousity of TurtleShroom exhibits a power and aura of its own, by virtue of its good citizens' closeness to Christ, sort of like the RL state of Isreal, according to the Bible. TV Tropes calls this the "Fishers' Kingdom": the nation itself alters or effects reality and that within it.
In RL, the Bible says that the Holy Spirit protects those filled with it from demonic possession, black magic/sorcery, and as it is said in Ecclesiasties, "the firery arrows of Satan". In an old RP, I established that TurtleShroomers who actually live and practice genuine, born-again Christianity, and remain untainted from the ways of wickedness (like I try to be in RL, and like my family and church in RL), are immune to magic that corrupts free will, deforms their minds along with their bodies, forces them to do evil, or forces them to act against their will. However, magic that kills them, maims them, etc. etc. works fine, and magic that changes their bodies without touching their minds (allowing them to be themselves "in there", in whatever "shell" they have) is, of course, fair game.}

{OOC: Basically, the rule of thumb is that pure TurtleShroomers are immune to magic that would cause them to act in violation of their faith, of morality, or to magic that would deform their minds, spirits, or souls so that they could not be one with Christ. It nullifies things that fight their free will or takes control from them. Everything else is fair game, so you can kill them, fry them, freeze them, swap bodies, species, gender, so on and so on and so on.}

One minor error on the mushroom you kidnapped to take to Urmanian. If he's immune to the Ray, it's because he's a devout, practicing Christian that lives a moral life of purity. He wouldn't be in Gerry on his own accord, since that place is a den of drugs, prosititution, corruption, lawlessness, and sin. Use the excuse that he's a social worker from out of town that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Oh, and he sees catgirls as gross, too, so he got in the stocks.

[The Ctan]

OOC: Aye, I know why it happened; but my characters don't. So... study it! And yeah, I was going to have him be wandering around the city, but alas necrons wouldn't do it to someone who they'd not already convicted for something. Perhaps incorrectly...

[TurtleShroom]

OOC: Aye, I know why it happened; but my characters don't. So... study it! And yeah, I was going to have him be wandering around the city, but alas necrons wouldn't do it to someone who they'd not already convicted for something. Perhaps incorrectly...

OOC: When it gets underway, I'll roleplay the mushroom for you. Anything to help as we begin Dark Harvest III. I hope to actually close this, and DH3 will be a real peace summit at the Steele Pact Court of International Arbitration. Delegates from all belligerents, and observers from the Land of Power, particularly Ende, Undead Gypsies, TheIncorporation (which I'd RP as) and any other LOPper, as well as Milograd (for the Lulz) and GEIJD, which is, by Steele Pact law, always allowed in. The Yues and the Tsaos from CC will also be present, and basically, I'll set it all out when the time is right.

OOC: What we need is a great closure. A way to end this, and then for me to post a link to Dark Harvest III.


OOC: I want to get this entire thing done by July. That's when I'm launching a huge election and succession adventure, the fate of the conscription and the military, some serious executive branch risks, and a massive tale based on the classic "F&NI Elections Thread". There will be full threads with debates between Constitutional convention figures, potential Chancellors (or Kings ) of TurtleShroom, and best of all, a massive, ongoing Q&A/Debate free-for-all where representatives of each party stand and take questions. I hope it works.

[The Ctan]

OOC: TGed you about the impossibility of a Steele Pact court attendance, and any interaction with Milograd or GEIJD - it even has evil in the name for cryin out loud - that isn't violently stabbing them. As for how to end this, I suggest posting the public Turtleshroomian response to Ranisath/Sirithil/Twilight's broadcast.

[Milograd]

Delegates from all belligerents, and observers from the Land of Power, particularly Ende, Undead Gypsies, TheIncorporation (which I'd RP as) and any other LOPper, as well as Milograd (for the Lulz) and GEIJD, which is, by Steele Pact law, always allowed in.

OOC: Why would I even be remotely involved in this ICly?

[The Ctan]

OOC: On second thoughts, I'm willing to permit all observers you've mentioned provided that the negotiations are held in C'tan, C'tan-occupied Gerry or elsewhere. And of course, given that Incorporation's last RPed activity was in surrendering to C'tan and becoming a C'tan dominion, I object to the notion of anyone but me RPing them.

[TurtleShroom]

Why would I even be remotely involved in this ICly?

OOC: Milograd, that's because you're 1) freaking awesome, 2) meddlesome in unstable nations' affairs, 3) have a lot to gain by influencing TurtleShroom, the C'Tan, and Ponyist states, and 4) most importantly, the next adventure I'm writing will feature a very large Dharconianism front that could very well send TS your way on the ideological scale. (You invented that ideology.)
Also, 5) you're considered one of the best roleplayers in all of NS.

[Urmanian]

OOC: Milograd, that's because you're 1) freaking awesome, 2) meddlesome in unstable nations' affairs, 3) have a lot to gain by influencing TurtleShroom, the C'Tan, and Ponyist states, and 4) most importantly, the next adventure I'm writing will feature a very large Dharconianism front that could very well send TS your way on the ideological scale. (You invented that ideology.)
Also, 5) you're considered one of the best roleplayers in all of NS.

OOC: You know that Milograd is insanely isolationist, right? They have little to no interest in other nations' affairs.

And...influencing C'tan...what?

[TurtleShroom]

[Milograd has] little to no interest in other nations' affairs.

OOC: If there is a chance that they would adopt Milogradite doctrines, namely Dharconianism, I think Milograd would tune in. I've seen it done on some RPs with Milograd in it. My next big RP will involve Milograd's ideologies and philosophies as a political influencer. Naturally, Milograd would involve itself in it.

[Comrade Commisar]

OOC: So friends... how should we conclude this thread? I'm supposing a single conclusion post by Turtleshroom?

[The Ctan]

Necrontyr Turtleshroom

“Look at all those stinkhorns,” Arvach ita Eljarel said, looking from the trench lip at the mushroom-dominated party approaching. Stinkhorn had become the term of abuse, of course, most mushrooms were not stinkhorns, of course, but the word stuck for all of them.

Arvach looked at them through the sites of a phase-rifle. The rifle was a civilian weapon, for this was what he was, a civilian.

Upon the collapse of the entire turtleshroomian state in the west of their nation, militas and angry turtleshroomians moved out west into the huge black swathe of the map that was called Necrontyr Turtleshroom.

They meant well, or so they thought, but the invaders didn’t think so. Arvach was in fact, though, the opposite, he’d flown out to Turtleshroom to hunt the natives, as part of a package tour.

Invading Turtleshroom to kill Turtleshroomers was a sport now.

Those that came operated alongside hunting packs of Mirkanian hawkmen, hungry for human flesh. But they themselves kept out of range mostly, using their far-superior alien weapons. Arvach’s gun was one of the more common civilian rifles in the C’tan. It fired bullets that were intangible until they were inside the target, where they solidified and exploded outward.

He pulled the trigger, and it fired. A mushroom jerked and flew apart messily, for an instant a tangle of darkness, like some kind of scribble, was visible where he’d been, loops of cutting wire chopping the victim into hundreds of pieces. He was diced, as though he was going to be eaten, chopped up by cheesewire.

The other mushrooms were frightened, and the humans with them, their guns, nothing like as fancy or powerful, at the ready, one of the remarkable things about the phase rifle was that the bullets seemed to come from nowhere, and a well-balanced phase rifle could shoot for miles. Most low-tech enemies hit with a phase-rifle broke and ran upon seeing what it did.

These ‘stinkhorns’ were braver than that.

“What’re they doing?” Arvach said, looking at one of the team with him, Ilyanith.

“They’re singing!” she said, the Eldar woman quite at home on a battlefield it seemed, dressed in tough, hardwearing camo gear.

In the distance, the turtleshroom militia could be just about heard; “I know of a state, Morals are high, Where man and fungus roam with testudines, We stand united, through worse or through best, We're the pure and unique nation of T.S.!”

“Give them another,” Ilyanith said.

Another militant, this time a human, a tall gangly eight-foot man carrying a shotgun and singing determinedly, dissolved into crimson slurry as Arvach shot him with the wire-gun.

“Holy themes, Stable regime! There's nothing quite else like it, you'll agree. We stand proud there, We reject duress, We're the pure and unique nation of T.S.!”

Ilyanith laughed at the notion of stable, her adoptive people had broken that boast! She brought her own phase-rifle to her shoulder and fired. Another mushroom became soup, scissored and sliced. The mushrooms had worked out where they were now, and were firing back at the trench with smallarms, but they had a long run ahead of them, and they wouldn’t get far.

There were fifty native militants, against them, twenty five adventure-tourists, a tour guide, and fifteen mirkanian hawkmen.

“Man, shroom, and turtle, All live oh so peaceful, All the three species stand in harmony! -and even those who disagree, Can still believe freely! In an environmentally stunning paradise!”

The Turtleshroomers came on; bravely, toward the fortified position, but in the end, they had no chance. It was cruel, really, but the C'tani felt they deserved cruelty.

__ __ __

They raised all kinds of trouble out in the jungles and deserts. Many were setting fire to abandoned oil wells and blowing up the well heads for good measure, “Lighting up Celestia’s Campfire,” they put it. Necrons were brought in to act as shock troops where corporate security was found, the security men killed or captured as anyone else who resisted was. Workers on Blackhelm rigs were never taken captive though; they were killed, skinned and hanged upside down from the rigs; so did the necrons deal with pirates - if they had still had chattel slavery as they had of yore, this would have been done in reverse order. Burning away Turtleshroomian wealth and livelihood would punish them even after the necrons left! Landmines were placed around the oil wells before they were lit up, to make putting them out more… fun. Months worth of Turtleshroom’s precious lifeblood would go quite literally up in smoke. Mines were planted on the roads too, to further ensure that anyone trying to put out the fires before the wells ran dry would be in for a surprise.

There would be a knock-on effect too; so much smoke would be shot into the atmosphere by this, creating a miniature nuclear winter, and would mean that more male than female turtles would be hatched later in the year, and turtles across the country would feel bitter biting cold as the winter grew long and hard, and the summer stopped in its tracks even before June had come in, stolen away by cruel necrons. The resulting acid rain would punish mushrooms, too, turning nice cool wet places irritatingly acidic. It was hardly good for humans either.

Acid rain would interfere with hibernating turtles, too, potentially disrupting their delicate chemical balance and causing a few fatalities. Of course, that was unlikely, but a few extra black skillets on the heating bill every week, both from the increased cost of fuel and the colder weather, would add up, making poor hardworking turtleshroomers of every type and turtles especially suffer just that little bit extra.

It was the most malicious thing that the necrontyr had yet done to Turtleshroom, but it was not the most dramatic, the true scope of their cruelty wouldn’t be noticed for some time.

OOC: Yeah. I'm just trying to get rid of all the cruel and nasty ideas I have before it ends; feel free to wrap it up any time TS! The thing about tourists going to shoot TSers is inspired by this urban legend while the oilwells thing is obviously based upon Kuwait after the Gulf War. The casualties among adventure tourists will obviously be higher than among necrons. I doubt they'd actually find any Blackhelm people, but TS employees of Griffincrest are also pirates in our eyes.

[TurtleShroom]

War!
It ain't nothin' but a heartbreaker!
Friend only, to the undertaker!
Oh, WAR!
'Tis an enemy, to all mankind!
The thoguht of war, blows my mind!
War has caused demise, within the younger generation!
Induction, destruction,
WHO WANTS TO DIE?

The first waves of volunteers to show up in the C'Tan trench zone were eager and willing to sign up and face what was probably going to be their end. These were not conscripts, but the usual plucky do-gooders eager to do what was right for their nation.
(Conscripts were easily identified by their unique dark brown sashes. The cross on the pickelhaube helmet was replaced by a "C". In cases where camoflague or stealth was neccesary, the sashes were tied around their heads like old-fashioned jungle guerillas.)


They came by the thousands, and were usually not part of the military. These were volunteer militias. Farmers, businessmen, doctors, and all creatures of all sorts, dressed in their every day clothes, their shirts and overalls, their robes, or the shell on their backs, and even then for the mushrooms.
Mushrooms, unable to feel pain, were first in the ranks. They surrounded the humans and the turtles, as shields.

Most of them had simple shotguns, humble weapons and simple home defense guns. These were not instruments of war. Those were holding back the advancement of C'Tan's army. These local militias were uncoordinated volunteer armies with no training or association with the country's armed forces. They willingly charged past the no mans's land and went straight to their death. Their willingness to die was, whether the C'Tan wanted to acknowledge it or not, amazing and beyond their own.

They did not stop. They were underestimated.


As the mushrooms were diced and the humans turned to splatters of gore, some creatures stopped and held their remains in their trembling arms, or in their telekenisis, or simply laying beside them, screaming in horror and agony, a piercing screech that shook the very trees of the jungle. Tears flowed as much as blood, and still they pressed on.

After the first initial shots, the militias scattered from their march and hid behind trees. Some scaled trees, others jumped into bushes, and many lurked in the understory, using the thick entanglements of branches to move from tree to tree.

A veteran from previous service in the military happened to be among this militia, and he, amazingly, carried his partner, a young turtle, up the branches, where the human ducked down as the turtle quietly made his way to the trees above the trenches with grenades wrapped around his shell.
He reached his neck to each one, pulled the key, and dropped them one by one.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Perfect hits. The C'Tan in that particular area fired upward, which was when about seven mushrooms, obviously torn and probably soon to die, literally jumped over the fences and barricades and landed on the startled Necrons, wielding machetes, kitchen knives, and forks, which they used to stab and tear at their armor and whatever they were made of. Even cattle prodders amde their way in.

It was on. Pure... guerilla... warfare.

[Ende]

The acid rain was the theoretical straw that broke the camel's back.

Breaking a peace meeting was the first step to war. The Endrenians were horrified at the breaking of the most sacred of their rituals, but they were too frightened to act. The Necrons had demonstrated a terrifying show of force, and the government believed war would not be wise.

Slicing the Hivelord's arm off was another step to war. Rafael, shortly after the incident, fell catatonic, and his successor, the Military Advisor, seized power. The arm-taking was sheer barbarity. Hundreds of protestors filled the streets, cheering for war against the Arraticanti (peacebreakers).

These two crimes would have been enough to stir the nation to war, but the Endrenian peoples were terrified of the Necrons.

But the acid rain was a solo step too far. In a heartbeat, the crops that the nation depended on for a food storage...died. The weather dramatically turned cold and harsh, and the agriculture upon which the nation survived died in a heartbeat.

This was one step too much. The Military Advisor, Eshu Adrani, immediently declared a state of panic. Thousands of Endrenian workers laid down their factory machinery, hammers, wrenches, and drills, and they stormed the Governmental Facility, located in the center of the Hivecity, demanding war.

Eshu was happy to consent to the mob's demand. The Endrenian nation was an interesting one. A nation composed of a former slave-race. The creatures themselves (the Endrenian people, known as the Endermen by the Turtleshroomers) were genetically created. Nothing like them would ever be found in nature. Their customs were also accordingly strange. The country had a 500 day calender, with 10 months, and weeks of 5 days. For three days of the week, the Endrenian people worked privately. For companies, and for other assorted places. For the other two days, they served the government. Arms were created, infrastructure was developed, and laws were passed during the two assorted days. However, Eshu put into place the Panacen Manuever. A government procedure which switched the work-week.

The factories of the Endermen poured guns, weapons, tanks, and every assorted piece of weaponry that they could build. Thousands of Pulse Rifles were assembled on the factories which permeated the Hivecity.

The primary weapon of the Endrenians was a Pulse Rifle. It fires a plasma pulse, which is generated when an accelerated particle breaks down as it leaves the barrel. The particle is accelerated by means of an induction field. A small circular device near the end of the barrel is a housing for a gyroscope that is part of an aim-stabilization system that allows the rifle to remain steady on target and angled for optimal firing at distance regardless of the circumstances. This gives the Pulse Rifles a greater effective range than nearly all human weapons. The primary feature of the weapons, however, was their capability of ripping through nearly any sort of human-made armor.

And as the Pulse Rifles were created, the Saucers poured out with them. Thin, circular ships, which were meant to flood the air with barrages of purple-colored plasma.

The final move of Eshu to mobilize the nation was to institue the Draft. Two out of every ten Endrenians were called to battle. Equipped quickly, given the most basic of training, and then pushed to battle.

But before Ehu gave the order to move out to a military campaign, he sent a sole message to the Necrons.

Transmission Source: Eshu Adrani, Emergency Hivelord, Military General of the Endri'
Transmission Recipients: The Necrons
Classification: None
Message Contents:

We were able to accept your utter breaking of a sacred meeting.

We were able to accept our leader falling into catatonic shock due to the taking of his arm.

We were able to accept your brutal massacring of our allies.

But we cannot take the death of all our agriculture.

The acid rain has killed our lifeblood. Reverse what you have done, or war falls upon you.

-Eshu Adrani

OOC: Hello, I'm back! I saw this and decided I wanted to get back into it. Since the arc we were at before was...slightly old, I decided just to drop it. TG if you have any problems with that.

[Comrade Commisar]

Imperial Shrine of Yoitsu,
Yoitsu, Yue Mainland

"It is an honor to be in your presence once again, High Priestess of Yoitsu."
"Please, rise. Tell me of your ventures in the South Lands, High Priestess Mei Bai-Ying."

The fatigued priestess began speaking of how Turtleshroom's government had collapsed, of how the streets were quickly turning barren, of how criminals were actively roaming around and mugging the venerable. Her reports were being recorded by the High Priestess of Yoitsu, Mei-Li Yue, for the Imperial Archive, which would document the information. Alas, her reports told of a dark time in Turtleshroom's history, of sheer lawlessness and civil unrest due to the actions of a few. Something that did not win much favor of the Imperial Shrine with Turtleshroom. Before dismissing High Priestess Mei Bai-Ying back to her hometown of Nanchang, one of the Tengu guards immediately rushed within the High Priestess's chamber and bowed respectfully, baring a message.

"High Priestess Yue, I bare a message from the remaining Black Guard within Litlin." The guard stating, his buckler and sword obviously throwing off his bowing.
"You may speak." The High Priestess replied.
"Yes, High Priestess." The guard said as she rose, "The Black Guards report multiple oil fires within the South Lands. Such fires are creating much thick, black smoke, which in turn is predicted to create acidic rain and possibly lower the climate of the South Lands, creating an early winter this year. The Black Guard is making the request to occupy Turtleshroom during this brief period of climate, which the Yue are adapt to, rather than the Summer heat of South Lands. They believe--"

The High Priestess of Yoitsu raised her hand.
"The Black Guard are not my High Advisors, they cannot request of me to do anything. However, being that my High Advisors are within Crescent Bay holding the Fourth Summit, I suppose that their information is all that I can act upon." The High Priestess said, looking at Mei Bai-Ying, "It seems that you will have to post-pone your trip back to your hometown, High Priestess Mei. I shall wish of you to return to the South Lands in light of these new events, but before you go, you shall receive fifteen hundred Yue Gold Coins to hire whatever mercenaries you need from the Asahinans. After the conferrence, High Priestess Feng Hua will assist you in the South Lands."

"High Priestess! I have more information..." Interrupted the Tengu again before the High Priestess could wish her well wishings, "The Black Guard also intercepted a message from a race known as the 'Endrenian' people. Apparently, this race had previous encounters with the Necrons, and due to the ever changing climate, their agricultural sources of food have rotted." The Tengu said as she handed a scroll towards the High Priestess, who read it accordingly.

"As a benevolent being, the Imperial Shrine shall offer them consumables accordingly. However, have them note that should they go against the Imperial Shrine, we shall annihilate them accordingly." The High Priestess said, placing aside the scroll, "Alas, High Priestess Mei, it is time for you to depart for the South Lands once again. May you ever be safe upon your journey."

Bowing, Mei stood up and left the chamber, leaving the Tengu and the High Priestess of Yoitsu.

"Say, Tengu, is it not coincidental that the Necron actions favor our own?" Smiled the High Priestess.
"It certainly is most fortunate, if not anything else." Replied the guard, "What are you implying, High Priestess?"
"Oh, nothing... now, let us get on with sending those envoys..." She stated as she grabbed a scroll and began writing upon it.

---

Intended Destination: Eshu Adrani, Emergency Hivelord, Military General of the Endri
Origin of Document: Imperial Shrine of Yoitsu, Yoitsu, Yue Mainland
Stamped: 山 【Medium-High Classification】

The Imperial Shrine of the Yue People have heard of your plight from the heavens, and we wish to help your people survive the long, harsh winters to come within the South Lands. The people of the North are quite a most generous, and most gracious people.

Of our goods, we have pelts made of fur and wool, we possess fine sheep to heard and raise, but most noticably for your peoples; we possess consumables, such consumables which are in fine condition, unlike the crops that are under your possession.

However, such generousity does not come without a price. Remember that it shall be the Imperial Shrine that sustains your people for this predicted harsh year, and that we are your saviors. As of such, we ask that your people refrain from interferring with our Shrine's operations in the South Lands. Should we encounter such troubles, the Imperial Shrine shall immediately stop shipments of consumables to your people. 'Tis fairly simple to understand, I am sure.

Well, Eshu Arandi, we shall be awaiting your response. We'll be watching.

Signed,
High Priestess Mei-Li Yue,
Imperial Shrine of Yoitsu

[The Ctan]

OOC: Woah woah woah. I have clearly oversold this. We are not talking about cartoon acid rain here. It's not going to kill all your crops instantly; it'll be months before there's a major effect, and even then it won't wipe them out. Ende, I'll acknowledge the post about all your crops being killed some time in July if you like, if you remind me. Because there's no way that'd happen within 24 hours, or even weeks.

And it's not going to be a global effect either. The Kuwait example had acid rain and reduced local temperatures hit agricultural production in the Persian Gulf states, not in the whole world. You've previously RPed in this thread that your guys are a great distance away, and you're not even in the Lands of Power region AFAIK (and not in the game-region at the time of writing): there'd be no observable environmental effect on you whatsoever.

Additionally, without you actually RPing your guys in order to get them released, I'm not sure how you'd know about the arm-taking - it's not like we put it on TV.

[Ende]

OOC: Woah woah woah. I have clearly oversold this. We are not talking about cartoon acid rain here. It's not going to kill all your crops instantly; it'll be months before there's a major effect, and even then it won't wipe them out. Ende, I'll acknowledge the post about all your crops being killed some time in July if you like, if you remind me. Because there's no way that'd happen within 24 hours, or even weeks.

And it's not going to be a global effect either. The Kuwait example had acid rain and reduced local temperatures hit agricultural production in the Persian Gulf states, not in the whole world. You've previously RPed in this thread that your guys are a great distance away, and you're not even in the Lands of Power region AFAIK (and not in the game-region at the time of writing): there'd be no observable environmental effect on you whatsoever.

Additionally, without you actually RPing your guys in order to get them released, I'm not sure how you'd know about the arm-taking - it's not like we put it on TV.

OOC: Oh, my apologies. I took it as cartoon acid rain. I mean, it's the Necrons. They have the power to do things like that. As for the arm-cutting thing, I assumed that the Necrons had possibly returned them. I mean, if they didn't, that's pretty much killing the leader instead of taking his arm. Also, canonically, I'm in the deserts north of Turtleshroom. See, if you flip back to an older thread, the Endrenians are the result of an escaped fleet from a dead planet. They crashed over various places in the world-Turtleshroom was one of them. I can get the thread if you want. Really, that's the only colony I actually do anything with. Anyway, they're at a distance of maybe fifty miles.

I guess it'll wipe them out some time during July, so just move the post to...four months later?

The Necrons will probably be gone by then, however.

[Milograd]

Why would I even be remotely involved in this ICly?

OOC: Milograd, that's because you're 1) freaking awesome, 2) meddlesome in unstable nations' affairs, 3) have a lot to gain by influencing TurtleShroom, the C'Tan, and Ponyist states, and 4) most importantly, the next adventure I'm writing will feature a very large Dharconianism front that could very well send TS your way on the ideological scale. (You invented that ideology.)
Also, 5) you're considered one of the best roleplayers in all of NS.

OOC: That is quite kind of you to say, but unfortunately I cannot see myself participating in this thread without metagaming. Milograd is not interested in the affairs of other nations unless they threaten it itself.

[TurtleShroom]

The militias marched and the armies stalled. Tens of thousands of conscripts began their training as most of the country found itself in bomb and fallout shelters, in their basements, and in the Grand Bunkers. Fear was the word of the day as they fiercely focused their attention to their radioes and televisions, following every broadcast, every word, eve-

KZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

-and cue Urmanian message.

Then, cue silence.

[TurtleShroom]

The response was immediate. The static returned, and a familiar face appeared on the screen. Well, actually, two faces, identical faces.

Generals Tecumseh and Sherman, visibly skinnier and unhealthier, their shells showing the signs, looked into the low-spectrum analog camera. They were in their full ceremonial dress. Reading off of a paper, they managed to cut their accents entirely out of the picture, as the spoke in unison.

"Immortal Necrontyr Empire of the C'Tan, and the Greater Pony Herd of Urmania, the Holy Republic of TurtleShroom, faced with a destruction far beyond the removal of our mere mortal containers and destinies to Heaven, have no choice but to capitulate to the superiorly armed belligerent."

The turtle brothers sighed and continued their recitation.

"We redact our previous statements and expressions of resistance."

General Sherman reached for a document and held it to the camera, as they both recited their simultaneous speech.

"The Peace Treaty has been amended to include Urmanian alongside the other nations previously mentioned. We would still prefer an armstice with Urmanian, but if it's that or our souls, we must choose what is right, even if we do not like it. TurtleShroom will, according to their demands, enter into a full peace treaty with the Urmanian nation, and also her predecessor states, which we still recognize along with the current nation; this includes the Greater Pony Herd, the Urmanian National Socialist Humanity Front, and its far-left, Balkanized factions that constituted the Herd's predecessor states. We request all to be present."

He sighed.

"Upon the completion of this broadcast, TurtleShroom will immediately dispatch a traditional surrender march to the location of the Necron's choosing to conduct the ceremony and end the war in a condition of Honorable Surrender. All drafted conscripts are to complete their training, if applicable, and return home. Conscription will remain in effect indefinitely. We will then proceed to lift the DEFCON as the Treaty become ratified. -and by the end of the year, the military will forcibly convene an election for a Constitutional Convention to address the succession crisises of the country, followed by a full Congressional election and the coronation of our Chancellors."

The saddened, weary turtle generals retained an attempt at a poker face.

"TurtleShroom officially surrenders to the Necrontyr Empire of the C'Tan."


The broadcast shut off, and was replaced with a blank white screen, with red text reading:

WAGING A WAR TO REGAIN ONE'S WHOLE WORLD, IS NOT WORTH LOSING ONE'S SOUL.
MARK 8:35-36

Both the television broadcast and the radios then played a the famous "Dead Man Walking" snare march as a silenced TurtleShroom collectively fell into silence.

[Urmanian]

OOC:

and also her predecessor states, which we still recognize along with the current nation; this includes the Greater Pony Herd, the Urmanian National Socialist Humanity Front, and its far-left, Balkanized factions that constituted the Herd's predecessor states. We request all to be present.

If it's what you're getting at...my nation's human past was retconned a LONG time ago. "Urmanian National Socialist Humanity Front" and "far-left, Balkanized factions" (not even sure what does this refer to) never existed. For all our government knows the "Urmanian National Socialist Humanity Front" is some lone insane skinhead pony in Flankfurt who thinks he is a human and is superior to other ponies and "the Herd's predecessor states" are the three warring pony tribes that were united 1,000 years ago and didn't exist as separate factions ever since.

[TurtleShroom]

If it's what you're getting at...my nation's human past was retconned a LONG time ago.

OOC: There is nothing I hate more than erasing an entire past to magically transform your nation. Seriously. Seruously, that's just. UGH. UGH! No, no no no........ you have to give SOME SORT of closure to your previous incarnations. Just going "poof" is just.... AAAAGGH IT BURNS. (As an iron-fisted continuity slave that Phineas and Ferb can't hold a candle to, the idea of deleting your previous works magically is sickening. I havea horrible taste in my mouth, but that's just my prescription eardrops.)

[Urmanian]

(Image)
(Image)

OOC: There is nothing I hate more than erasing an entire past to magically transform your nation. Seriously. Seruously, that's just. UGH. UGH! No, no no no........ you have to give SOME SORT of closure to your previous incarnations. Just going "poof" is just.... AAAAGGH IT BURNS. (As an iron-fisted continuity slave that Phineas and Ferb can't hold a candle to, the idea of deleting your previous works magically is sickening. I havea horrible taste in my mouth, but that's just my prescription eardrops.)

OOC: I have little in the way of a response other than 'deal with it' but if that pleases you then you may believe that the Urmanian Federation was eaten up by fractal mists and then the Wizard of Speed and Time erased it from the time and space continuum and replaced it with ponies instead.