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by Ibada » Sun May 13, 2018 7:49 pm
by UniversalCommons » Sun May 13, 2018 8:11 pm
by Macisikan » Sun May 13, 2018 11:43 pm
by Yohannes » Thu May 17, 2018 12:46 am
The Macabees wrote:Some empires ran on tribute. Others on oil. The Golden Throne ran on data.
Many paid attention to its financial industry, with its tens of thousands of banks, thousands of clearinghouses, and an ocean of liquidity wholesalers. Its complexity was as bewildering as the volume of capital that flowed through it, propelled by an empire in which rules were lax and where the region's criminal underworld had found a safe haven for their cash.
But even the financial industry, as marvelous as it was, was at the mercy of data. Everything was a metric these days. Big data companies collected their product wherever they could, contracting with firms, non-profit organizations, and other businesses to provide entrepreneurs in their niche with the data they needed to make wise business decisions. Individually, few of these data companies knew much on the whole, but together they represented an immense treasury of information on the people of the Golden Throne, and even internationally. The data clearinghouses that worked above them reached quite far, all considered, aggregating several thousand zettabytes of data points. And much as there were local clearinghouses, regional clearinghouses, national clearinghouses, and the great international investment clearinghouses of finance, these existed in the world of data.
Every major international clearinghouse, even regional financial clearinghouses, only became aware of Kayla Williams' arrival at Fedala because of big data.
Meike Bakhaus had become aware of her arrival that way, at least.
She saw the male tour guide head toward Kayla Williams when she entered Halle H. Those damn things were so fast. They looked so real, moved so casually, and spoke so authentically. Luckily, Meike was rather quick herself and she rose like a lioness to intercept the guide before he reached the Yohanni. "She's a friend of mine," she explained, with an arm around the guide's shoulder.
He looked at her, nodded, and walked back to where he had come from. She smiled and walked toward Kayla, who was looking at the interior architecture of the main exposition hall. "Kayla Williams," she said, as she approached. "Hi, my name is Meike Bakhaus. I'm with Sevalda Financial, a capital investment subsidiary of Díenbank, and I was sent to meet with you here. I promise that I was not sent on business. They offer me as a tour guide of sorts, to ensure that your stay here in Fedala is an enjoyable one. So, Kayla," Meike continued, after a short pause. "They tell me you like sports. Tell me, do you like financial sport?"
The Macabees wrote:“Hi, my name is Meike Bakhaus. I'm with Sevalda Financial, a capital investment subsidiary of Díenbank, and I was sent to meet with you here. I promise that I was not sent on business.”
The Macabees wrote:“Tell me, do you like financial sport?”
by The Macabees » Sun May 20, 2018 2:40 pm
by The Macabees » Sun May 20, 2018 3:38 pm
by Free Kolechia » Sun May 20, 2018 6:16 pm
by Ibada » Sun May 20, 2018 7:47 pm
The Macabees wrote:"Hi, Mr. Matiba," he said, as he walked up to Njomo. "My name is Frederik Signo. You may call me Frederik. I have been sent by Kríertor as a complimentary welcome to this beautiful city. I imagine that you are headed toward the Gardens of Jendora, to see the Exposition. An excellent exposition it is, of course. It would be an honor for me, and Kríertor, to take you there. Perhaps there may be an opportunity for business and...gain for yourself, too."
by United World Order » Sun May 20, 2018 9:06 pm
by The Macabees » Sun May 20, 2018 9:47 pm
by UniversalCommons » Mon May 21, 2018 11:21 am
by United Vallerian Republic » Mon May 21, 2018 6:16 pm
by United World Order » Mon May 21, 2018 9:22 pm
The Macabees wrote:"Mr. Vormann," he said, "my name is Riter Melkar. I have been authorized by the OLF authorities to guide you during your stay here in Fedala. My instructions are to ensure that you have an excellent time here, so that you are well rested before your return to the Fatherland. You should know that I can drive you to wherever you direct me, but I do recommend that we skip this exposition entirely. There is an opportunity in this city for an adventure like no other. Tell me about yourself, Mr. Vormann. What are your dreams? Your aspirations? And tell me about what it is that you like to do."
by Republic of Vectors » Mon May 21, 2018 11:42 pm
by Free Kolechia » Tue May 22, 2018 2:34 pm
The Macabees wrote:— Khalid Timayev
When human DNA and RNA strands duplicate, there is some probability that the wrong amino acids will be paired together. This accident creates a mutation that most likely will not survive for long, but if it does can cause a significant change in the nature and purpose of the organism. From these probabilistic sparks comes the opportunity to evolve.
Perhaps the human brain is, in a way, similar. Even today, scientists struggle to cope with how the human brain works. Its complexity is boggling. Some theoretical psychologists have gone as far as to claim that the human mind cannot comprehend orders of complexity beyond its own, meaning that mankind is forever condemned to remain in relative ignorance on its own inner workings. Yet, maybe the metaphor of evolution comes on step closer toward a fuller understanding. The brain and its nervous system works in patterns, signals that trigger one thing or another. Accidents along the way are what we call creativity. Creativity is the fountain spring and of individual and social progress.
Maybe that was what separated humans from the AIs. Matild did not care, it wasn't a subject she thought about much at all.
She saw the Kolechian diplomatic staff member enter almost the second he stepped through open glass sliding doors. It must have been hot outside because there were beads of sweat on his forehead. Mr. Timayev also seemed relieved to be inside the long, cavernous exposition hall. The whole area is busy with people now, all filing from one booth to the next, looking through what each nation showcased about itself.
Matilde wasted no time in approaching him. She bowed slightly before speaking, "Mr. Timayev, my name is Matilde. It is an honor to meet you, I've been awaiting your arrival. My role is to guide you today through the booths." She smiled and let him catch up, then added, "May I recommend the Ordenite or Eitoan booths? Or perhaps you would prefer a museum or one of the other entertainment venues?"
by Macisikan » Thu May 24, 2018 1:02 am
The Macabees wrote:— Rashore L’kani
"Ah," said Rogar, when Atki finished. "Very well then. I will do my best to make sure that Sir Rashore finds what he is looking for. The exposition administration has put distinct emphasis on ensuring our guest's ultimate satisfaction. And, yes, I will make sure that we stop at one of the museums before our day comes to a close. I already have one in mind for you."
Rogar optimized choices, but he did not judge. There is a subtle difference between making an optimal choice and judging between unknowns. That difference was a small one, but it could define humanity.
OOC: I'll leave the timing of this part ambiguous enough for you and Eitoan to complete that interaction to the extent the both of you would like.
When the Eitoan representatives stepped away to attend others as Sir Rashore completed his stay at the booth, Rogar stepped forth again to take point. "Sir Rashore, would you like to move on? Next, we can explore the United Vallerian Republic. The Golden Throne has a naval base, a kríerstatón the military calls them, there. It is named Vos Díelaht, or Western Gate in an ancient tongue. I think you will find it to your liking."
When Sir Rashore was ready, they proceeded on to the Vallerian booth. The Vallerians had remained faithful to the architectural guides of the fair grounds, having constructed a rather large building that combined modern elements with the more modern classicism of the Macabéan colonial style. The small republic was known for its neutrality and its respect for fair business. It was also the home of RegionAir, one of the largest inter-regional commercial airliners in Greater Díenstad. There were dozens of hubs with the Golden Throne and throughout its territories alone. They were building a new RegionAir terminal in the Fedorograd International Airport that was still under construction in the satrapy of Pezlevko-Rubino.
Yes, United Vallerian Republic had much to offer.
United Vallerian Republic wrote:— Rashore L’kani
Max Syrén brushes a speck of lint off his suit and stepped out of the Vallerian booth to greet Sir Rashore. He speaks in slightly accented English: "My name is Max Syrén, and I am the representative for the United Vallerian Republic for this event. Wecome to the Vallerian expo booth. Feel free to look around, and I will be most happy to answer any questions you may have". He extends his hand in greeting.
by United Vallerian Republic » Thu May 24, 2018 2:24 pm
Macisikan wrote:The Macabees wrote:— Rashore L’kani
"Ah," said Rogar, when Atki finished. "Very well then. I will do my best to make sure that Sir Rashore finds what he is looking for. The exposition administration has put distinct emphasis on ensuring our guest's ultimate satisfaction. And, yes, I will make sure that we stop at one of the museums before our day comes to a close. I already have one in mind for you."
Rogar optimized choices, but he did not judge. There is a subtle difference between making an optimal choice and judging between unknowns. That difference was a small one, but it could define humanity.
OOC: I'll leave the timing of this part ambiguous enough for you and Eitoan to complete that interaction to the extent the both of you would like.
When the Eitoan representatives stepped away to attend others as Sir Rashore completed his stay at the booth, Rogar stepped forth again to take point. "Sir Rashore, would you like to move on? Next, we can explore the United Vallerian Republic. The Golden Throne has a naval base, a kríerstatón the military calls them, there. It is named Vos Díelaht, or Western Gate in an ancient tongue. I think you will find it to your liking."
When Sir Rashore was ready, they proceeded on to the Vallerian booth. The Vallerians had remained faithful to the architectural guides of the fair grounds, having constructed a rather large building that combined modern elements with the more modern classicism of the Macabéan colonial style. The small republic was known for its neutrality and its respect for fair business. It was also the home of RegionAir, one of the largest inter-regional commercial airliners in Greater Díenstad. There were dozens of hubs with the Golden Throne and throughout its territories alone. They were building a new RegionAir terminal in the Fedorograd International Airport that was still under construction in the satrapy of Pezlevko-Rubino.
Yes, United Vallerian Republic had much to offer.United Vallerian Republic wrote:— Rashore L’kani
Max Syrén brushes a speck of lint off his suit and stepped out of the Vallerian booth to greet Sir Rashore. He speaks in slightly accented English: "My name is Max Syrén, and I am the representative for the United Vallerian Republic for this event. Wecome to the Vallerian expo booth. Feel free to look around, and I will be most happy to answer any questions you may have". He extends his hand in greeting.
OOC: I’m going to assume that Eiotan has nothing more to add and move forward.
Akti nodded to Rogar and thanked the other.
What Sir Rashore, and his assistants, were thinking as they left the Eiotan exhibit was a mystery; they’d been polite and attentive throughout. A clarifying question here, close examination there. They took it all in, but beyond a generic sponginess there wasn’t much in the way of feedback. They could have been impressed; they might not have been. There was simply no way to tell. Still, they were very courteous to the attendants as they bid them farewell.
When Rogar suggested they visit the Vallerian exhibit, there was a general air of “sure, why not?” – upon arrival, the knight shook Max Syrén’s hand, his own grip firm but not tight.
“Ser Syrén,” he said with a smile, “I am Sir Rashore L’kani from the Macisikani Realm, and these are my assistants. Our guide here has commended your excellent exhibit to us as a point of interest at the Regional Expo; we will gladly take you up on your offer to look around. Is there any particular feature of your nation you would like to draw our attention to in particular?”
by Macisikan » Mon May 28, 2018 3:15 am
by The Macabees » Mon May 28, 2018 3:26 pm
by UniversalCommons » Mon May 28, 2018 6:39 pm
by United Vallerian Republic » Wed May 30, 2018 3:49 pm
Macisikan wrote:OOC: I’m sorry, but there’s really not much I can do here.
Ever courteous, Sir Rashore replied “That all sounds most intriguing, especially this Multi-National Peacekeeping Force. We would be delighted to explore your exhibit, thank you.”
The assembled Macisikani resembled a flock of ravens – or pigeons dressed in black – as they entered, heads bobbing and swivelling with interest at the Vallerian exhibition.
by Macisikan » Wed May 30, 2018 7:32 pm
by The Macabees » Thu May 31, 2018 8:39 pm
by The Macabees » Sun Jun 03, 2018 8:17 pm
by UniversalCommons » Mon Jun 04, 2018 9:04 am
The Macabees wrote:— Simeon Ming
Kyrelis tisked when Simeon began to fire wildly. She would have preferred not to announce their approach. Alas, there was no use making more of a ruckus by arguing the matter. And, to be fair, the noises blaring out from speakers throughout the building did their fair share to make everything else almost inaudible.
She did say, after pointing to the walls and ceiling, "Keep communication outside of the two of us to a minimum. Heavy security. Cameras, microphones, bust mostly electronic espionage, these guys have it all. This isn't the municipal police, here security forces play by the rules they set for themselves. Especially down here."
"Still," she added, "you have more skills than I originally gave you credit for." She was impressed with how he had handled the two guards upstairs.
When they stepped into the garage it was eerily silent. Despite all the vehicles parked down here, there wasn't a soul around them. Security had most likely blocked access to the garage, not knowing whether it was safe to allow the guests to take their cars. A blessing and a curse thought Kyrelis.
"You're a better shot than you think, Mr. Ming. Keep watch." She was at the door of a luxury sedan, slipping a piece of metal between the glass of the driver's side window and the metal frame. Something clicked inside and the lock shot up. Kyrelis used the door handle to open it and she darted inside. Hiding under the steering wheel for a bit, she broke off the plastic panel hiding electronic wiring. Gently pushing them out of the way, Kyrelis reached into her pocket to retrieve a small USB. She shot into a slot somewhere inside, behind the wiring. Suddenly, the vehicle's engine rumbled to life.
Scooting back up into the driver's seat, she pulled the vehicle forward. Opening the passenger side's door for Simeon, she asked, "Ready?"
Just as she did, a black car squealed around the corner down the sloping floor. Another one screamed around from the other end. They were too fast, turning to block her and Simeon's exit. Three more vehicles came behind them, two on one side and a single one on the other. Armed men poured out of all of them, carrying submachine guns and shotguns. 20 men, total. And lastly, Laurens and Guus emerged cool and unpressured. They both slowly walked forward, nestled within a group of their security. The armed men had no patches, no symbology of their corporate owners.
"I hope you didn't think we'd let you get away, Kyrelis. "No, you should have killed us when you had the chance. But you couldn't risk that kind of publicity, could you?" It was Guus, he wore a wicked smile on his face. He turned to Simeon, "Like I warned you before, there's more to this than you know, Mr. Ming. I think it's time for you to come with us. I assure you I have more to offer than...her."
"Mr. Husmeán?" asked a young aide with a weak, meek voice as he knocked at the door.
"Yes? Who bothers me?" Jona Husmeán barked with his deep, gruff voice.
With big, broad shoulders and a great big neck, the CEO of Díenbank was a physical imposing man. It wasn't only this aide who was intimidated by him, although perhaps the aide suffered it more than anybody else. The young man had been with him quite a while now, perhaps the best aide he'd had in a long time, but it was good for the employees to fear him a little. "What is it?" he asked, only barely nicer.
"It-it-its our guest, sir. It s-s-seems our tour guide has gotten a little b-b-bit more adventurous than we p-p-planned for," stammered the aide. When Mr. Husmeán returned a blank, increasingly angry stare, the aide continued to explain. "Well, um, you see, um, the guide is..."
"Spit it out, son!" said Husméan, harshly.
"The one named Kyrelis, sir, our latest acquisition..." he looked down, "she took our guest to Alkoben."
"Alkoben?" The boss' voice was strangely calm. "That's it? Aha! It seems Mr. Ming will be taken for quite the ride!"
"Sir, it's dangerous down there." The aide seemed doubtful.
"Oh, don't worry about him. He can take care of himself and our guide, well it is no stranger to violence. They will handle it," said Mr. Husmeán. Although he paused for a second, frowned, then added, "I suppose it pays to be safe. Clear my schedule for the next hour. And leave me be, make sure I am not interrupted."
"Yes, sir," said the aide, bowing while closing the door behind him.
"For the sake of the gods," muttered Mr. Husméan, pulling a phone from inside his desk drawer. He opened the address book, made a quick search, and then tapped the screen on the name that appeared. The phone began to ring.
— Rashore L’kani
Rogar had so far remained largely outside the conversation between Sir Rashore and the Vallerian host, Max Syrén. But he had been listening, analyzing, the discussion and talk on the MNPF had piqued his interest. Almost as if it had served as a trigger for a spark inside of his head.
"The MNPF does not operate on the basis of a regional treaty," he said, suddenly. The two humans looked at him. "It is a great boon to the organization that it is not, I think. First, Greater Díenstad has never been a region to like region-wide agreements. Second, that it does not offers the benefit that MNPF's identity is potentially far more international. Indeed, Libraria and Ausitoria are members of the MNPF and they lie well outside the region. With no major internal motivations for regionalism, it makes it less likely that an 'outsider' — excuse my vernacular, Sir Rashore, you must understand I mean no ill with that — is excluded out of regional identity."
Rogar turned to Mr. Syrén. "Perhaps you can speak a bit about the MNPF's membership, its values, and its goal. I'm sure Sir Rashore would be delighted to hear about all of that. Maybe there is also somebody he can speak to upon his return home? It seems like a good opportunity to connect him with the organization." he added, quietely stepping backward again to let the two men continue the conversation.
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