Pretoria Riots (CLOSED DO NOT POS)

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

Several Gujarati Nationalists then enter Orania and loot the town

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

Several Gujarati Nationalists then enter Orania and loot the town

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

Angry Hindu Nationalists help the Afrikaner Residents defend the town with many Gujarati nationalists dead

[The Skinboy Hive]

Pretoria, UAC

---

Evidently, the city of Pretoria had not yet been fully consumed - some oblivious holdouts still remained on the streets, protesting for some notions of "representation" and "rights" while their homes were engulfed in a tide of skin, rubble, and entrails, as millions around them lay dead and desecrated. One could hardly blame them - there were no survivors from the skinboy attacks to alert them of the incoming threat, nor were any communication lines active from where the skinboys had reached. Preoccupied with their protest, neither they nor the police knew anything of the new enemy that now came for them, and yet it would come all the same.

Cries of freedom for Gujaratis and rattling from police riot shields were suddenly silenced as a horde of skinboys rushed into the street, frothing at the mouth and firing loads of dense liquid into the crowd, punching through shields and maiming the bodies of police and protesters alike before they were rammed through by their assailants' throbbing flesh lances. Before long, the entire gathering was encircled with no escape. Few among them could even walk, let alone run through whatever openings there were in the rapidly enclosing swarm. They could do nothing but wait for their imminent demise, and desperately hope for their end to be a merciful one.

As soon as the skinboys reached them, however, they swiftly found out that it would not be so.

[Kiu Ghesik]

WE ARE HERE, AND WE ARE STRONG
PRAETORIA | UAC | DAY 88

---

The Kalashnikov Autovmat Model 1974, it has been often said, is so simple a weapon that a child can use it. This, of course, is not entirely true- while greatly ruggedized, and entirely simplistic, most children would not appreciate the weapon's recoil. In fact they would likely be greatly frightened by it.

However, they are indeed easy enough for children to theoretically fire. And, in some cases, for illiterate nomads to arm themselves with and stage insurrections among their expatriate comrades. While those Ghesites dispatched to Praetoria were not immediately capable of doing any fighting whatsoever, by the eighty-eighth day of fighting they had arrived, weapons in tow, and quickly set about disseminating their arms throughout the greater Praetoria metro area. They had come to meet their revolting brothers with quite the host in tow- one hundred Ghesites, the swarthiest fighters the Khadusik could muster on short notice, had arrived with five hundred improvised armored vehicles, a CV90 infantry fighting vehicle flying seven war banners from its turret, and a veritable cornucopia of AK-74s, 60mm mortar pieces, and antimateriel rifles. Where had once marched men bearing spears now stood an entirely different host.

Though, Aughesen son of Heleden noted with satisfaction, their new arms were not at all going to waste. He had been honored with the role of First-among-Equals, anointed in war-ash, and now stood in the hatch of the CV90 his brothers in CHALICE had gifted his host, one calloused hand gripping the staff of a banner and the other holding his vehicle's pintle-gun. In typical Ghesite fashion his vehicle was coated in resplendent war-paints, the flags behind it each marked with the banner of a Clan save for one- a blank maroon tapestry made from a native's rug, a hastily-chosen symbol of the nationalists. Odd men and women, these nationalists, their customs divorced from the people of the Kiu by time and by space, but children of Ghes nonetheless. They were to be protected. And they were here to fight, just as the monsters CHALICE had dispatched and the soldiers it had sent were. They hadn't been immediately receptive to his calling them a "clan", but here they were nonetheless. They were the ones manning the mortars and guns in the technicals, they were the ones marching along beside the tank- they were true warriors.

And, Aughesen smiled to see, they chanted Botha's name with death on their lips. Just as he did now. The tank's engine roared and it rushed out of its cover, its turret spinning to aim down a line of Praetorian guardsmen. The Bofors roared, and the guardsmen fell. Across Praetoria the same scene played out hundreds of times, albeit with lesser arms- the Ghesites were awakening to their strength. Riots, violent ones, were now turning into bloodbaths as the Ghesite community was flooded with weapons befit their people's heritage.

Praetoria had burned before, but now it would rage- rage like a fire. The Flensing Wind would descend on it, and it would be cut down like wheat under a scythe.

And soon so would all of Australasia.

---

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

WE ARE HERE, AND WE ARE STRONG
PRAETORIA | UAC | DAY 88

---

The Kalashnikov Autovmat Model 1974, it has been often said, is so simple a weapon that a child can use it. This, of course, is not entirely true- while greatly ruggedized, and entirely simplistic, most children would not appreciate the weapon's recoil. In fact they would likely be greatly frightened by it.

However, they are indeed easy enough for children to theoretically fire. And, in some cases, for illiterate nomads to arm themselves with and stage insurrections among their expatriate comrades. While those Ghesites dispatched to Praetoria were not immediately capable of doing any fighting whatsoever, by the eighty-eighth day of fighting they had arrived, weapons in tow, and quickly set about disseminating their arms throughout the greater Praetoria metro area. They had come to meet their revolting brothers with quite the host in tow- one hundred Ghesites, the swarthiest fighters the Khadusik could muster on short notice, had arrived with five hundred improvised armored vehicles, a CV90 main battle tank flying seven war banners from its turret, and a veritable cornucopia of AK-74s, 60mm mortar pieces, and antimateriel rifles. Where had once marched men bearing spears now stood an entirely different host.

Though, Aughesen son of Heleden noted with satisfaction, their new arms were not at all going to waste. He had been honored with the role of First-among-Equals, anointed in war-ash, and now stood in the hatch of the CV90 his brothers in CHALICE had gifted his host, one calloused hand gripping the staff of a banner and the other holding his vehicle's pintle-gun. In typical Ghesite fashion his vehicle was coated in resplendent war-paints, the flags behind it each marked with the banner of a Clan save for one- a blank maroon tapestry made from a native's rug, a hastily-chosen symbol of the nationalists. Odd men and women, these nationalists, their customs divorced from the people of the Kiu by time and by space, but children of Ghes nonetheless. They were to be protected. And they were here to fight, just as the monsters CHALICE had dispatched and the soldiers it had sent were. They hadn't been immediately receptive to his calling them a "clan", but here they were nonetheless. They were the ones manning the mortars and guns in the technicals, they were the ones marching along beside the tank- they were true warriors.

And, Aughesen smiled to see, they chanted Botha's name with death on their lips. Just as he did now. The tank's engine roared and it rushed out of its cover, its turret spinning to aim down a line of Praetorian guardsmen. The Bofors roared, and the guardsmen fell. Across Praetoria the same scene played out hundreds of times, albeit with lesser arms- the Ghesites were awakening to their strength. Riots, violent ones, were now turning into bloodbaths as the Ghesite community was flooded with weapons befit their people's heritage.

Praetoria had burned before, but now it would rage- rage like a fire. The Flensing Wind would descend on it, and it would be cut down like wheat under a scythe.

And soon so would all of Australasia.

---

the Ghesite led Ghesite Liberation Front salute their Kiu Ghesik Brothers , and finally manages to get in the Capital Building

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

Members of the Ghesite Liberation Front storm the front gates of the Presidential Palace in Pretoria. Shots ring out in the hallway as a firefight begins between the revolutionaries and the guards. The revolutionaries quickly dispatch of the guards and move through the hallway while shooting anyone who gets in their way. At the end of the hall is a tall grand staircase decorating with ornate sculptures of native South African wildlife. A moderately tall man with an messy beard and a camo jacket steps to the front of the crowd.

"Today is the day we end the evil regime that has driven our great nation in the world! Today we take back South Africa !" The man raises his dirty AK-47 in the air.

"Viva la revolution!" he shouts motioning for the crowd to rush the stairs.

Only 5 minutes later, President P.W. Botha could be seen slowly walking down the stairs, his hands tied and the same bearded man with a gun to his head.

"Out the door" commands his captor motioning with his pistol. The heavy front doors of the Presidential Palace open to reveal a crowd of spectators cheering. The bearded man motions for President Botha get on his knees. Silence falls over the crowd as another revolutionary hands him a megaphone.

"The time has come for this oppressive regime to fall!" Suddenly a shot rings out and Presidential Botha falls to the ground

the man is later Revealed to be Former President Fidel Castro

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

Official statement from the revolutionary government.

No longer shall our people be oppressed! No longer shall we be dominated by western imperialist powers! We immediately order all foreign troops out of South Africa. From this day forward, the Republic of the United Australasian Commonwealth shall now be known as the Democratic Republic of the United Australasian Commonwealth .

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

the Revolutionary Government installs a Ghesite Leader and an Afrikaner Leader , Their names are Pieter Khadusik and F.W. De Klerk and they announce that Ghesite Rights have been secured.

[Surrealist Patagonia]

On the other side of the pillars, stood a certain suspicious man in a red hazmat suit. The man went by the name of "Red Angel" from the Red Cross camp in Australasia and he emerged from the shadows when Castro and his boys were done finishing shooting Botha and left the Presidential Palace in Pretoria. The Red Angel calmly walked towards the body of Botha which was riddled with exactly ten bullet holes to the chest as he laid dead on the pristine marble floor. With his blood soaking his entire suit and desecrating the ornate beauty of Palace stairs. The Red Angel picked Botha's lifeless body up and hauled him to a Bell chopper without anybody noticing out of the ordinary.

Back in the Red Cross camp in Australasia, P.W Botha was being reborn into a killing machine of death who would serve the Red Angel's and CHALICE's war effort. Stripped of his conscious and memory, he now merely desires blood and sacrifices for the one Meat Grinder. His bloodied chest was augmented with metal plates and cybernetic circuitry to give him increased endurance super strength. His right arm was replaced with a mechanical arm for greater grip and power. The Red Angel merely watched the transformation of Botha the human to Botha the cyborg killing machine as the Red Cross "medics" treated him. When all is said and done, Botha went online and gained consciousness as a cyborg killing machine.

Botha, noticing that he is not human anymore, fell on to his knees and screamed "NOOOOO!" as his raspy mechanical scream throughout the makeshift lab. The Red Angel approached him with a photo on his hand and showed the photo to the reborn Botha. A photo of a Latino revolutionary with the gruffy beard on his face. "Fidel Castro - you must kill him" the Red Angel calmly said to Botha as he is given a new body to exact revenge on Castro himself.

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

President Pieter Khadusik takes the oath of office

soon the portrait of P.W.Botha is taken down and his is put up

[Kiu Ghesik]

AND SO THE PEOPLE'S WILL IS FULFILLED
PRESIDENTIAL PALACE | PRAETORIA | DAY 88

---

Victory had not come quick enough. The Praetorians had, it had seemed, not expected the flurry of violence unleashed on their city; then again, that monster-plane the Patagonians had deployed had done a number on their population. How one aircraft had killed millions Aughesen would never know- had they just lined up in front of its bullets?- but it had certainly been moralizing to watch. And these nationalists were vengeful fighters- they spoke of rapes, of shootings, of oppressors whipping those who disobeyed soldiers' commands, and their blood, it seemed, was boiling. Aughesen was across the city when the gates fell on the Presidential Palace and word reached him, but nonetheless he had raced there as fast as he could.

When he arrived he saw something... odd. The man he had known as Botha was dead. There was an olive-skinned man standing over him, a Prussian rifle in his grasp. He grinned at Aughesen, and waved a maroon flag.

The bastard had taken Botha's body. The Ghesite leapt from the tank, his own weapon in hand, and flanked by a wall of his fellows stepped towards Botha's body. In accented English he spoke, his voice thick and dripping with foreign tones: "You have... done service to us. Thank you, comrade. Now give us body, we will dispose of it." His rifle raised ever so slightly, and his fellows moved forward to pull Botha away. Then he gestured away towards the palace, and the tank's commander nodded.

The CV90's weapon roared once again, and its pristine white façade shattered. Flames began to lick it, and a cheer swelled from the crowd. The foreigner, it seemed was gone, and a group of his comrades had gone with him. But it mattered not- the Kiu was swelling, and with these arms it had prevailed. Its children abroad were just as ferocious as their blood would lead them to be.

Ghes would be proud.

But now the time had come to end this. Prussia, Patagonia, the monsters- they could have their fun on the rest of the South Africa. The Ghesites had a people to unite. And there seemed to be traitors in their midst. A "revolutionary government." One Pieter, son of... someone. He had betrayed his people.

But the others could deal with them. Those revolutionaries would burn in time, CHALICE would see to that. Ghes' children had to be rallied behind the flag now, before yet more traitors could rise.

And there was the matter of finding where Botha's body had gone. It had been here just a moment ago...

---

[Surrealist Patagonia]

Just as Pieter Kadushik was sworn in and inaguarated on the steps of Pretoria's Presidential Palace, a familiar face by the name of PW Botha landed on the steps of palace grounds out of nowhere from the sky. Now reborn as a powerful cyborg where bullet rounds are useless against him. Making quite the crack on pavement roads upon impact. He babbles about having his presidency taken away by Ghesites and communists and aims a high-powered pistol at the President in an attempt to assassinate the new communist president of Australasia.

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

Just as Pieter Kadushik was sworn in and inaguarated on the steps of Pretoria's Presidential Palace, a familiar face by the name of PW Botha landed on the steps of palace grounds out of nowhere from the sky. Now reborn as a powerful cyborg where bullet rounds are useless against him. Making quite the crack on pavement roads upon impact. He babbles about having his presidency taken away by Ghesites and communists and aims a high-powered pistol at the President in an attempt to assassinate the new communist president of Australasia.

Pieter Khadusik and his harem and Cabinet ministers attempt to escape but it was fruitless

[Surrealist Patagonia]

Just as Pieter Kadushik was sworn in and inaguarated on the steps of Pretoria's Presidential Palace, a familiar face by the name of PW Botha landed on the steps of palace grounds out of nowhere from the sky. Now reborn as a powerful cyborg where bullet rounds are useless against him. Making quite the crack on pavement roads upon impact. He babbles about having his presidency taken away by Ghesites and communists and aims a high-powered pistol at the President in an attempt to assassinate the new communist president of Australasia.

Pieter Khadusik and his harem and Cabinet ministers attempt to escape but it was fruitless

Cyborg Botha fired his high-powered pistol indiscriminately towards the President's harem. Turning them into gibs, entrails, and bloodied organs beyond recognition as it decorates palace grounds. "No horny" Botha said with a raspy cyborg voice as he turned his attention towards Kadushik. He jumps and pins down Khadusik to the ground with his arm on his collar. Botha didn't think for one second to ask Khadusik where Castro is but he shot a high-powered bullet to the skull of Khadusik's head out of repressed anger. Piercing through his miniscule brain, killing him instantly, and turning it into a work of art like JFK's head. Botha isn't over yet after all of this...

What happens to Australasia is anyone's guess.

[Federal Remnants]

THE FURY OF THE BLACK SUN
MODERN DAY SOUTH DAKOTA | AUSTRALASIAN "TERRITORY"

Hail Washington || ᚺᚨᛁᛚ ᚹᚨᛋᚺᛁᚾᚷᛏᛟᚾ

---

Upon hearing of the shocking, slipping decadence of the Australasians into full blown Bolshevism, holding rightful American land in the West Coast, President Miller knew the time has come for a final war. Manifest Destiny will come, and no mercy will be reserved for foreign, non-Aryan occupiers. Communist ones, no less. The time to strike was perfect - their government was disorganized after suffering a regime change and their holdings in North America seem almost entirely unprotected.

In front of his Brutalist reconstruction of the White House, as the rains in New Washington fizzled away, President Miller gave a speech with primarily members of the inner party in attendance, with his personal All-American Stormtrooper guard flanking Miller's sides. An ornate red coat enshrines the seemingly semi-Divine presidency as his eyes lock upon his audience before his mouth opens.

"As you may all have heard, not only do the degenerate Australasians have claims on our rightful all-American land, letting polluters and colonizers riot around aimlessly in the West Coast, but they've even slipped from one form of degeneration to an even worse form of it. The unholy spectre of Communism, that which is part of an eternal, corrupting Demiurge, that which ended the true civilization of Hypereborea so long ago, that which took away our rightful American lands in the West centuries ago. The time to hesitate is no longer, it is time for total war, a holy war to beat back the forces of the Demiurge, before it snuffs out any hope of Aryan cvilization. The scorching might of the Black Sun courses through our veins, as it always will be, and we will never let these Judeo-Bolsheviks hold an inch more of righful American land. Hail Washington!"

---

As the last line of his short speech is called, the party members in the crowd roar back with "Hail Washington!" over and over again. It is done. The Australasians will not know what hit them. Mass mobilizations begin of the main Federal Remnants military, as the West Virginian chemical and biological arsenal is hauled from East to near the West, and dozens of Stormtrooper battalions with their emblems draped in various holy runes amass what would be near modern day South Dakota. Armored trucks and medium tanks gear for a lightning campaign - none shall be spared from the bullet, none shall be spared the rope, none shall be spared napalm and nerve gas. A sea of skulls will follow in the Second Manifest Destiny - the air seemingly turns still.

One Struggle.

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

THE FURY OF THE BLACK SUN
MODERN DAY SOUTH DAKOTA | AUSTRALASIAN "TERRITORY"

Hail Washington || ᚺᚨᛁᛚ ᚹᚨᛋᚺᛁᚾᚷᛏᛟᚾ

---

Upon hearing of the shocking, slipping decadence of the Australasians into full blown Bolshevism, holding rightful American land in the West Coast, President Miller knew the time has come for a final war. Manifest Destiny will come, and no mercy will be reserved for foreign, non-Aryan occupiers. Communist ones, no less. The time to strike was perfect - their government was disorganized after suffering a regime change and their holdings in North America seem almost entirely unprotected.

In front of his Brutalist reconstruction of the White House, as the rains in New Washington fizzled away, President Miller gave a speech with primarily members of the inner party in attendance, with his personal All-American Stormtrooper guard flanking Miller's sides. An ornate red coat enshrines the seemingly semi-Divine presidency as his eyes lock upon his audience before his mouth opens.

"As you may all have heard, not only do the degenerate Australasians have claims on our rightful all-American land, letting polluters and colonizers riot around aimlessly in the West Coast, but they've even slipped from one form of degeneration to an even worse form of it. The unholy spectre of Communism, that which is part of an eternal, corrupting Demiurge, that which ended the true civilization of Hypereborea so long ago, that which took away our rightful American lands in the West centuries ago. The time to hesitate is no longer, it is time for total war, a holy war to beat back the forces of the Demiurge, before it snuffs out any hope of Aryan cvilization. The scorching might of the Black Sun courses through our veins, as it always will be, and we will never let these Judeo-Bolsheviks hold an inch more of righful American land. Hail Washington!"

---

As the last line of his short speech is called, the party members in the crowd roar back with "Hail Washington!" over and over again. It is done. The Australasians will not know what hit them. Mass mobilizations begin of the main Federal Remnants military, as the West Virginian chemical and biological arsenal is hauled from East to near the West, and dozens of Stormtrooper battalions with their emblems draped in various holy runes amass what would be near modern day South Dakota. Armored trucks and medium tanks gear for a lightning campaign - none shall be spared from the bullet, none shall be spared the rope, none shall be spared napalm and nerve gas. A sea of skulls will follow in the Second Manifest Destiny - the air seemingly turns still.

One Struggle.

we are back into a capitalist nation

[United Australasian Commonwealth]

OOC: thread for my upcoming RP : viewtopic.php?f=31&t=503382

[Synne Industries]

I. Soup Time
RSS Them's Fightin' Words | Somewhere over Sydney(?)

---

In the early morning some 80 to 90 meters above the perhaps not so quiet city of Sydney, something was about in the air. Perhaps simply a slight atmospheric disruption, an unexpected patch of unusually low turbulence which not even the most sophisticated meteorological equipment of the time could have predicted. Strange, how humans could rocket into the outer reaches of their Solar System and harness the power of the mighty atom but still could not predict the patterns of windflow accurately past a certain point. Perhaps that is the case, but no meteorologist could be put to blame for not predicting what this little patch of abnormal air would become.

A slight whirl in local currents. Strange. A crackle of light. Fascinating. A distortion of localized visual perception. Worrying. A thunderous howling of air being accelerated to Mach in the double digits as the local dimensionality hurled itself in on itself into a patchwork typhoon of spatial axes. Dangerous, but perhaps not for long. No more than a dozen seconds tick by and the hurricane whimpers and dies. What remains is only broken glass, the odd toppled wall, perhaps a few cases of deafness for any passerby, and a peculiar mass of not-quite-material where the whirlwind once was.

The object was not particularly large, perhaps only nineteen or twenty meters in length and barely a fifth of that in both height and width. The true peculiarity would lie in form rather than size. Its mass, if it had any, seemed to twist about and into itself in a crawling tangle of bright oranges and reds nauseating or even painful to observe. The only clearly defined shape which could possibly be discerned by human eyes would be a navy blue clamshell-like formation on its ventral side, resting in a near perfect stillness as the object remained aloft.

This stillness would quickly be broken as the shell appeared to be pierced from the inside, unsheathing a slender metallic rod from its underside with springlock speed before once again returning to its inert state. A strange sense of peace swept across the city of Sydney as the object remained floating through the late morning and into the afternoon, its motives as of yet undetermined and simply resting that some 80 to 90 meters aboveground.

[Suid Africana]

By now all Suid Africanan citizens were evacuated. Some refugees were taken with them. The refugees were granted asylum. However it is unknown when they will be able to return home. Other countries involved in the airlift also successfully evacuated all their citizens.