World Cup 68 RP Thread

[Eastfield Lodge]

Part 1

"...Free kick awarded to Polar Islandstates on this near side. Villeneuve and Bjerregaard standing over the ball, about 25 yards out from goal. Plenty of pushing and shoving going on in the box, and Villeneuve walk away from the ball. Bjerregaard to take with Pyrovile forming the wall, shot's on here. Bjerregaard shoots, off the wall, into the crowd ... and IT'S IN! 2-0 TO POLAR ISLANDSTATES! And its their captain, Küngas-Vaga, getting mobbed by his team-mates in front of the Polarian faithful. And with just half an hour left in this match, that goal seems to have sealed the three points for -"

*suddenly, the printer whirs into life, spewing out a few pages before falling silent*

"Switch off the TV Jim," said Ria, one of multitude of scientists taking time off to watch the match. "There's not much point watching any longer, they're just too good for us."

"You never know, we could still have a comeback like we did against the Olastian Free Republics (OOC: MD1 was against Olastor's robots taking the shape of Free Republics)," replied Jim.

"We were playing against shape-shifting robots, it's not like playing against the real team, even if they are hosting the competition."

"So? Besides, the portal's been like that for a good few weeks, and there's nothing we can really do about it apart from monitoring the damn thing."

"You never know. This place has been of Yellow Alert for three weeks now," retorted Robby. "Who's to say that something won't happen, that this was a false alarm?"

Ria came back from the printer, clutching the freshly printed pages and with a rather pale complexion, saying, "Umm... the report's back from the field team."

"And?"

"The sensors are working perfectly normally, and they're in the exact position and orientation that they're supposed to be..."

"Let me see that report." Robby grabbed the report and began reading, the frown on his forehead becoming more and more pronounced with each passing sentence.

"You might want to read the addendum Robby. The situation is a lot worse than we thought."

Although both the sensors on our void ship and on those on the monitor ships were working perfectly fine, we were still picking up this bizarre pattern even after recalibrating all of the sensors. Furthermore, whilst the sensors were working perfectly fine, our navigational instruments on the other hand played up badly. We had alternating periods of control and lack of control, seemingly coinciding with the points the space-time waves causing the pattern passed through us. One wavefront passes, we lose control until the next wavefront, where we regain control until the third wave, and so on and so forth. Strangely, we were perfectly fine for most of this trip, and there hadn't been reports of any strange occurrences until now either. Also, the beginning of this navigational malfunction was preceded by an increase in the intensity of the waves, something which we believe was the cause of the malfunction.

"Ah. That's bad."

"Bit of an understatement."

Jim: "Well, we do know what the source of the disturbance is. The time portal in Ossidiacqua that's cut off the entirety of that country from Rushmore and the universe, with the time wall that takes ten years to cross in either direction. And the time waves on this side of the portal are beginning to intensify."

Ria: "Yes, but, there's not really much that we can do to counter-act it, primarily because of the time wall."

Robby: "But on the other hand, if nothing's done, the time waves will start emanating out of our own portal, and with the power source we have supporting the portal, it could amplify the effects both here and in Ossidiacqua, and the time wall could expand to god knows what size on both sides. Heck, the whole of northern Rushmore, not to mention The Vatmark and Pavolia, could be swallowed up."

At that point, the printer whirred again, and out came another few pages, this time with an official looking seal in the top corner. Ria went to retrieve it.

"Guys, it seems that all but essential travel across the void has been ceased, to prevent accidents from loss of control on the void ships."

""All but essential"? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, tourism is off for the time being, except for sports-related tourists. So it seems that World Cup qualifying, not to mention UICA stuff and all that will proceed as normal, albeit with more caution. And obviously, trade will be limited to essential goods and services."

"Fair enough."

"Also, we've been put on Red Alert. Which means extra shifts for everybody, to prevent Eastfield Lodge from dying."

"Dammit."

[Gregoryisgodistan]

Lord Almighty Gregory's Speech to the People

"Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and slaves. I speak to you today of a growing threat from the Valkolicci government. Our intelligence reports indicate they are planning to drop bombs on our glorious nation. Rest assured, we will retaliate massively if that happens. For each bomb dropped on Gregoryisgodistan, we will drop three solar-powered bombs on Valkolicci. Keep in mind we have about 5,000 solar-powered bombs and the number is growing every day. (OOC: This is true.) These bombs have the strength of atomic bombs and a few of them will easily obliterate The Greater Valkolicci Haven. (OOC: No, they have the strength of pipe bombs and a tendency to explode high above the ground. The only way to get killed by one dropped from 30,000 feet is to get hit by a falling bomb fragment, which would kill you instantly.) If the Valkoliccis dare drop more than a couple bombs on us, everyone in that nation will be destroyed. Rest assured, we do not stand for foreign attacks on Gregoryisgodistani soil.

"To the Valkolicci leaders, I warn you, do not attack this nation or your nation will be completely destroyed. Remember too that I am the Lord your God who created the multiverse, and I can end your country at any time just with my God powers. But solar-powered bombs are a lot more fun. So if you bomb our country, we will bomb yours with our solar-powered bombs. These bombs are a lot more powerful than your puny weapons. We are the true nation of the true God. You are heathens and will perish.

"Rest assured, citizens and slaves, you will live in peace from the Valkoliccis. Their leader would not dare bomb our nation with our whole arsenal of solar powered bombs just lying in wait. We will completely obliterate that nation from the map if we have to. They are wicked, they are evil, we are the good followers of me, the True God. I will rule the multiverse forever, obliterating nations that dare threaten Gregoryisgodistan. Please do not even try, if you are a foreign power. I am the God of Everything, I shall rule this world forever.

"Death to Greater Valkolicci Haven! Death to Saintland! Death to Free Republics! Death to Costa Luna! Death to Middleton Valley! Death to San Jose Guayabal! Death to Alianza Albos! Death to Hicana! Death to all nations on our enemy list, past, present or future! I am the Lord! I am the God! Surrender now or prepare to fight with God! That never ends well.

"So tonight, when you are singing the national anthem on the hour, remember that we may soon be at war. I am doing everything in my power to prevent it, but it may soon be necessary anyway. If need be, I will call up every adult under the age of 40 to fight in the war. Of course, our soccer team will be excluded for the duration of the World Cup, should they choose. But every adult under 40 is now subject to military draft in wartime per my new decree. We will prevail. We will destroy our enemies. We are Gregoryisgodistan! Me Bless Gregoryisgodistan!"

[Vettrera]

OOC: I'm going to take a step back from my RP right now and talk about something else.

Editor's Note
The Protectorate Post

Complete Citizenship has been a hot-topic in Vettrera for more than a few years. It isn't a new phenomenon. Vettrerans and membrs of Oakbrook and Calvarie are all thought to be citizens of the Valorian System. So if that's the case...why do we always go by the name "Vettrera". Whenever anything happens, whenever we enter any event, whenever anything of any importance takes place, we call ourselves "Vettrera". This is problematic for two reasons. Firstly, it ruins the entire notion of the Valorian System. It doesn't make sense to argue in favor of "The Valorian System" if the moniker is never going to be used in the first place. The Valorian System was created with the intent of being the name given to Vettrera and the smaller nations of Oakbrook & Calvarie when members of the several nations interact in unison, yet it isn't used at any place or at any time. The second issue with this is that it's incorrect. Let us take the PUSH program as a prime example. Under PUSH, Vettrera has entered into Atlantian Oceania competitions and they have entered into the World Cup (among other things), this is despite the fact that all of Vettrera's soccer, baseball, and hockey teams are centered in Oakbrook & Calvarie. It is ridiculous for us to think that we are one group united under Vettrera, when it is obvious that Vettrera is significantly different from Oakbrook & Calvarie. There are two ways to truly rectify this issue. Oakbrook & Calvarie either needs to break away, or the nations will need to truly organize under the Valoria System. It is unfair to act as though Vettrera is the breadwinner in this relationship, and act like it has complete dominion over Oakbroook & Calvarie. Vettrera may be the mainland, but they are not the main workers.

[Menukten]

Wilma Blue Throat stepped into the hotel elevator, exhausted. She had stepped out for a long smoke break and the THC was still bubbling in her brain. She sighed, reflecting on the day's loss against Costa de Ouro. Menukten was the better team, Blue Throat knew, but with all the recent illnesses, rumors about the team being cursed, and concern over their hospitalized teammates, the squad was disheartened, and it showed in their game. Depression mixed with a heavy dose of fear was hardly an emotion to score goals upon.

Her thoughts drifted to tomorrow's match. They would be playing Kitsunia-Deese, and, if the Menukten squad kept playing like they did today, it was likely to be a blow out. Not in Menukten's favor. However she would worry about that tomorrow. Right now she needed rest.

The elevator doors clanged open and she walked out onto the third floor, threading her way by rote to door 326, the hotel room she shared with fellow defender Jenny Tall-Tale. She took our her key and slid it down the lock. The door handle flashed green and she let herself in and flipped on the lights.

Tall-Tale was asleep. The silly girl hadn't even bothered undressing. She was splayed across the bed still in her mitachwikan. Blue Throat thought about waking her so she could properly undress and attend to her toilet before bed, but thought better about. The girl was exhausted, just like Blue Throat. It'd be best to let her get her some sleep. Still, she would need to move her onto her side of the bed before she retired, as their was only one bed in the room. Yes, coach Keeps-the-Pipe was cheap.

Blue Throat unwrapped herself and put on her pajamas, retreating to the bathroom to brush her teeth. With a cool, soothing menthol tingling in her mouth, she bent over Tall-Tale, placing her hands on the girls side, meaning to gently push her onto her side so Blue Throat would have room on the bed.

Blue Throat froze in alarm. The girl wasn't breathing. She bent down over her nose and felt a week breeze brush against her cheek. She was barely breathing.

Blue Throat sprang up and hurried over to the wall, flicking the light switch. She then sprinted back to the bed an, asking Tall-Tale to forgive her, fumblingly unwrapped her teammate, throwing the pile of mitachwikan on the floor, were it lay bunched up like a pile of torn up grass.

Tall-Tale was pale, her veins showing clearly through her warty skin, her complexion pasty, her color wan and transparent. Blue Throat could barely detect the rise and fall of her chest that meant she was breathing. It was just like the others. Struck down by some horrible, nameless, mysterious disease.

Blue Throat squeaked in fright and fumbled for her phone on the bedside table, knowing over the alarm clock, causing it to switch on and warble a fuzzy version of “One Love”. What should she do? Call the ambulance? Try to wake Tall-Tale up? Tell the coach?

Deciding on the latter, she flipped her phone open and searched in her contacts briefly before finding the right number and thumbing send. The phone rang twice and then a bleary voice asked, “Wilma? What is it? Why are you calling so late?”

“Coach! It's happened again! It's Jenny... she's just like the others!” Her voice wavered with hysteria, and hot tears seared the way down her cheeks.

“What? What's happened?” the voice was alert now, and Blue Throat could hear the sounds of a mitachwikan being hastily wrapped over a body.

“Jenny... she's not moving, and barely breathing, and her face is white like a spirit's! Oh, coach, I;m frightened,” sobbed Wilma, her eyes now flooded in fear, “it's Red Hand again. He's done it. She's just like the others and I'm next!”

“Calm down Wilma,” the voice over the phone was collected and soothed, “maybe its not as bad this time. I'll be right over, but in the meantime you should phone an ambulance.”

The voice disappeared and the call ended. Blue Throat let the phone drop out of her nerveless finger and sat down hard on the bed, almost sitting on Tall-Tale's lifeless right foot. Her thoughts were in a whirl, pictures of Red Hand's sneering face alternating with the pale, lifeless forms of her teammates in intensive care

Her reverie was shattered when the door burst open and Keeps-the-Fire rushed in. In his haste he had dressed sloppily, the folds around his face did not completely cover his knobbly nose. When he noticed Blue Throat sitting on the bed uncovered, he swiftly averted his gaze, walking towards the bed with his eyes locked into the far wall. When he was close to the bed he bent his head and stepped over, carefully maneuvering so that Tall-Tale was in sight but not her distraught roommate.

Carefully he placed a finger over her nostrils and felt a slight breath. With his other hand he felt for a pulse on her throat. It was slight, barely noticeable, but there. Just like the others. Barely alive, yet not actually dead.

“She's still alive,” he said reassuringly, “though she needs medical attention fast. Did you call the ambulance?”

There was a loud and sudden sob and then a rhythmic movement of the bed quickly stopped, which Keeps-the-Fire surmised was Blue Throat shaking her head.

“I'll do it then.”

He flipped open his cell phone, made the call and was promised by the Ems that they would be there in five minutes.

“That won't work,” a voice from the hall chuckled, “they're in my power. I can heal them or kill them as I wish.”

Blue Throat shrieked as a figured stepped from the shadows out the hall into the fluorescence of the hotel room.

“Red Hand!” Keeps-the-Fire growled as the familiar mitachwikan-swathed shape converged out of the dim gloom. The coach rushed upon the figure, pummeling it with his fists, but the squonk just stepped back, made a hand gesture, and suddenly Keeps-the-Fire was on the ground, choking, gasping for air.

“Now, now,” Red Hand admonished, “that's no way to treat me if you want your friends to make a recovery.”

“What have you done?” choked Keeps-the-Fire from the floor.

“What have I done? I'm taking over the national soccer team, of course. I'm now the coach. All you have to do is resign, that is, if you want to see your team alive again someday.”

“I'll never resign,” Keeps-the-Fire spat, “and the players will never listen to you, not after what you've done to their teammates!”

“Oh, I don't need the other players,” said Red Hand, “in fact they're lying in their rooms
under my power just like sweet Jenny here. No, I have a much more efficient way to play soccer, a strategy that's guaranteed to win us the World Cup. Meet the new team captain.”

A hunched form about four feet tall wobbled in from the hall, ambling as if barely able to maintain its balance. Its skin was mottled and mossy, its fingers twiggy. As it drew closer, Blue Throat noticed a gaping, teethless maw and bulging red eyes on the ends of stalks. She gasped in terror as the thing drew near.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY TEAM!!!” Keeps-the-Fire screamed, writhing on the floor, before his movements were stopped by a racking succession of coughs.

“I've improved it,” Red Hand said, “these moss doctors will answer my every direction completely and without hesitation. There will be no more battle of the wills or misunderstandings that have hampered your team so far. No, these moss doctors were created for one purpose only, to play soccer. They are so much more efficient that a selection of individuals with free will; there ability to cooperate and understand each other and the situation in the game is unparallelled. There's no way we can lose.”

The hunched figure scraped its hands over each other and then threw its head back and crowed. The sound made bile boil in Blue Throats stomach, and she had to fight to not throw up.

Red Hand feigned concern.

“Oh, I see that my friend here has upset the lady,” he crooned, a wicked smile making valleys in his wrappings, “but no matter you'll get used to your new teammates.”

“I'd rather spend a whole year in public uncovered than play under you!” Blue Throat spat, lobbing a wad of saliva right into Red Hand's left eye.

The squonk's smile dissapeared.

“You'll regret that, wench,” he snarled, and turned heel, storming out of the room.

Note on Moss Doctors

Moss Doctors are creatures of moss and twigs animated by witchcraft. They were often used to sneak into a pregnant women's home and steal blood for powerful wooboo spells. When the palefaces came, they were often used to take paleface blood unwittingly, white blood being believed to be especially potent. A girl's first menstrual blood and afterbirth are also frequent targets of witch-controlled moss doctors. Red Hand is believed to be the first witch to use moss doctors on a soccer team.

Picture of a Moss Doctor

[The Archregimancy]

The Backstreet Monks

Panic!

Stop it, stop it
Stop it, stop it
Go, stop and go
I just hit static
I used to watch you
Play so clear
But when you're like this
You're so erratic

And you're not rational
When I see you around
Your inconsistency
And you know it's dragging us down
And Perlasilangan just don't scan

Chorus:
Playing home or away
One misstep and it's all over
And the results you're showing us
I say you're letting us down
But God will take you in won't be taking you out
As I've already said
You just confess that you're sorry

Stop it
You've made mistakes
You lost to Glaser
Those rioting fanatics
Don't you know
We're not immune to the panic
When the results turn on you

The Perlasilangan results
That was so much better
But you won't qualify again
If the results won't change

Chorus:
Playing home or away
One misstep and it's all over
And the results you're showing us
I say you're letting us down
But God will take you in won't be taking you out
As I've already said
You just confess that you're sorry

How many times do I have to sing it
Before you believe me

Stop it, stop it
Stop and go

Panic!

Chorus:
Playing home or away
One misstep and it's all over
And the results you're showing us
I say you're letting us down
But God will take you in won't be taking you out
As I've already said
You just confess that you're sorry

[New North Aqmuland]

Group 16
Taijan 3–4 Arbeitsgemeinschaft Alpenlander
Turori 3–0 The greater Vakolicci Haven
Svengarda 1–0 New North Aqmuland
Gregoryisgodistan 0–1 Kericia

  Group 16                         Pld    W   D   L    GF   GA   GD   Pts 
1 Turori                             6    4   2   0    11    4   +7    14
2 Kericia                            6    4   1   1    14    5   +9    13
3 Svengarda                          6    4   0   2    16    6  +10    12
4 The greater Vakolicci Haven        6    3   0   3    14   14    0     9
5 New North Aqmuland                 6    2   2   2     9    7   +2     8
6 Gregoryisgodistan                  6    1   3   2     3    5   −2     6
7 Arbeitsgemeinschaft Alpenlander    6    1   1   4     8   22  −14     4
8 Taijan                             6    0   1   5     5   17  −12     1

Stade Butanga, New North Aqmuland
10:45 NST

Beru Dtyumbe sat with his head in his hands, alone in the locker room, staring at the group table.

Tonight, they faced Gregoryisgodistan. Tonight.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that, given that they were one of the stranger nations out there. He couldn't help but wonder what provoked the banning of the word coconut, or why the people didn't revolt.

Maybe they had no idea of what else was out there.

Beru knew all about that. He grew up in a poor village on the banks of the Ruvyironza, in southern Burundi state.

He remembered his father getting up every morning, going out to fish, while he and his four siblings all played soccer on the edges of the river, swimming out to get clean and to grab the ball that floated away often.

He remembered being picked on, because he was always so short, a little behind mentally and physically.

It wasn't that he had no skill. He could work his way through the Cibitoke market carrying the loaves of bread for his family without touching anyone else. He was just really short.

He was the lucky one, though. In eighth grade, his body woke up, and the boy who could barely see over the high countertops was soon the tallest boy in his class. He outgrew everything, and by eleventh grade, he stood six-foot-four.

He lost some of that quickness, though, as he got bigger and gained weight. That was okay, though. His strength was good for the mines, where there was no need to be quick, unless the shaft went down. He never stopped playing soccer, though. Every break he had, he went to the ratty field near the mine and played with some of his work friends.

A couple of years ago, about six, he thought to himself, the state announced the formation of the Burundi Premier, the division for the top team in the state.

That was all he needed. He signed up for the workout, and on the day of the tryout, received number 516.

Apparently it was his lucky number. He played better than he ever had before, but when he was signed by Bujumbura X, he struggled with the formation they used. There were calls of "bust" and "failure" everywhere.

Beru grumbled to himself as he searched for his socks, in what seemed to be an eternal game of hide-and-seek. The inanimate objects were winning, still, even with all his efforts to cajole them into keeping still.

Beru resumed his thinking, going back to the day that he was released. There were two weeks in which nothing went right, six years ago. Oh, that was not a fun time for him.

Then, though, someone took a chance on him.

Exactly six years ago to the day, tiny Boronga FC's manager, James Haba, called him, telling him that they would sign him. Beru took to the challenge with gusto, attacking everything that was laying in his path en route to the starting job as a defensive midfielder.

Two years later, he was trying out for the World Cup squad, and barely made it on. However, Frank must have seen something in him, because he was soon moved up over other players onto the starting squad.

Three games, three losses against Svengarda. Disappointing, but not the end of the world. He still had another chance to win one, after all.

First, though, came the Foot Slaves.

Dtyumbe simply slipped on his jersey, looking over his shoulder to make sure the number 18 was clearly visible, before quietly walking onto the field.

His siblings were waiting, after all.

[Super-Llamaland]

Chapter 1
Chapter 1.5
Chapter 1.75
Chapter 1.875
Chapter 1.9375
Chapter 1.96875
Chapter 1.984375
Chapter 1.9921875

Completed Randormness

Chapter 1.99609375

---

---

---

A solitary blue spaceship sped off through space, abruptly ran into an invisible wall, and continued on its journey, albeit not as disklike as it had been before. It was sort of smashed now, and more importantly, one of its occupants was moaning in a corner.

"This..." gasped Hicana. "Is the end...for me..."

"No, Hicana!" Llama cried. "It's okay...I'll bend time a little."

"It can't be undone..." Hicana mumbled, and then his eyes rolled into his head and he slumped into Llama's arms.

"It was all because of Greg's RP!" moaned San Jose Guayabal, whose left ring finger had just fallen off. "He instructed Hicana and Alianza Albos to die, so we are, because it's in the Rules of Inter-Dimensional common sense! You die when somebody tells you to!" San Jose Guayabal gasped and abruptly slumped, unconscious, to the floor of the spacecraft. Jeckland smeared some green paint on his face and pretended it wasn't him when SJG woke up six hours later asking why he had green paint smeared on his face. Whoops, spoiler. Oh well.

"Alianza Albos was a part of San Jose Guayabal...the same thing would have happened to you if Hicana hadn't been an independent being," Jeckland explained to Llama.

"No..." Llama sobbed. "Wake up, Hicana."

Hicana woke up, said "hi," and then died again.

Llama stared at Hicana in shock.

"I suppose it wouldn't be too much to ask for you to stay alive this time?" Llama asked.

Nothing happened. Meanwhile, the spaceship, which wasn't being piloted as Llama and Jeck were both distracted, SJG was unconscious and had green paint on his face, and Hicana was dead for the moment, crashed into another invisible wall and then quietly broke.

---

Who you gonna call...well, not us since we're on email now! NS GHOST BUSTERS!

"We just got an email," Para yelled. "To the Ghost-Buster transportation device!"

Para and the moderators quickly jumped into the Ghost-Buster transporation device and drove away to Finland before realizing that the location they were supposed to be going to wasn't actually in Finland. They drove back to Undead New Koln's house, burned it down with a fire extinguisher, realized that Undead New Koln was hiding out in Arab County's house (he had conveniently left a note there saying "I'm hiding in Arab County's house. Do not tell the Ghost Busters.'')

Bwahaha! I typed two single quotes for that last thing instead of a double quote and you didn't even notice!

Anyways, they decided to surround the house with large magnifying glasses and let nature take its course. The house was reduced to a pile of ash six days later, although nobody noticed.

Para dove the Ghost-Buster transporation device back to the Lair of the Ghost Busters (LOG-B), which was next to LOG-A, which had once been the Lair of the Ghost Army until it was slathered in pudding, which is the universe's best ghost repellant in history.

---

Meanwhile, the Gregoryisgodistani men had accidentally dropped Gerald Smith through the wormhole. Mark Rogers, Gerald Smith, and the other Gerald Smith appeared in the spaceship like instant reinforcements. However, it happened three seconds before the ship broke, which meant that SJG (who still had a while to go before he woke up and inquired about the green paint slathered on his face), Llama, Jeck, Gerald Smith, Gerald Smith, and Mark Rogers were going to have to suffer through it together.

"Uh oh," Llama said, "we appear to have broken a dimension."

And the ship went sailing off into the mist, which had been conveniently placed there. They picked up the Ghost Busters, Jenni Sanchez, Lord Yvetlal, Undead Puppet of New Koln (who had been sucked into a wormhole upon being killed by the Nation Deleters, who looked a lot like the Ghost Busters only with fake mustaches), and a nine-year-old Hicana negative one second later, then vaulted off a large, hard, pink, platinum, soft, rubber, blue, small diving board and into the Cosmic Sea, where the Indian God Vishnu slept before he realized that he was sort of lonely and went back to where all of the other Indian Gods live divine lives.

The Ghost Busters and Lord Yvetlal were pushed off the diving board by nine-year-old Hicana, who then killed Undead Puppet of New Koln with a broken scorinator and a rubber mattress, which sounds really fun to jump on but is a pain to sleep on. They floated into the Cosmic Sea for one second, which took 36,000 years everywhere else, before being sucked back to their original places in a process that took negative 36,000 years to complete.

---

"Hicana! You're alive! You're alive!" Llama yelled.

"What? Of course I'm alive, because I live to be however old I am when I died over there," Hicana said sullenly. "I will now smear Guayabal's face with green paint by pretending to be Jeckland and going back in time."

"What? I'm you?" Jeckland asked.

"No," Hicana said, "not unless I actually do it. Which I won't. By the way, the spirit that came out of the older me when I died has taken residence inside of me and is now shape-shifting me into him. It kind of bugs me."

There was a loud flash.

---

"Uh oh," said Llama, "there's a big spaceship behind us."

And so there was. A large police ship, obviously meant to snatch Llama up and send him to the death penalty. As they watched, the ship got closer and closer to the point where they could see angry faces inside of it. They were yelling something at Llama.

"Why is nobody driving the ship?" said Reason before skulking away and disappearing in a random puff of magical non-logic. Reason then smacked Guayabal with a wet towel and left.

"Hey, who did that?" Guayabal said, waking up. "And why is there green paint smeared on my face?"

"How the heck has it been six hours already?"

"Space-time," said a sad guy in a corner, "like it or hate it, you can't ignore it."

Llama ignored him.

"The point is, we are about to be captured and then I will be executed!" Llama yelled angrily.

There was a long, stony silence.

"I'd actually be okay with that," everybody else said at the same time.

[Hicana]

(OOC: No, you won't see any randomness. Just match reports from Super-Llamaland.)

MD1: Super-Llamaland 4–1 Seraphic Empire

The Tigers got things off going strong with a dominating 4-1 win in which everything went to plan. While the left-footed Seraphic striker got an early goal in off young Henry McNeal in the sixth minute (oh great. Six minutes into his World Cup career and he gives up a goal), but McNeal was sharp the rest of the way, allowing just the one goal on seven shots on goal. Young Alex Ford decimated the opposing defense in the seventeenth minute to score an equalizer, Jake Wiggins hit a brilliant cross-field pass to give Peter Masters an easy goal from in front of the goalie in minute thirty-one, Robby Greene made a burst up the left center and set up substitute Jacob Brennaman for a goal in the sixty-third, and Trevor Duncan put things away for good with a short goal in the seventy-seventh, assisted by Kyle Sturgeon. The Tigers got 68% possession and dominated the whole way.

MD2: Osarius 4–2 Super-Llamaland

Not the best game here as Osarius put up goals in the twenty-third, forty-ninth, and sixty-fifth. Super-Llamaland appeared to be making a comeback as Masters (78') and Ford (82') both shot miraculous goals by the sterling Osarian side, but a final shot in by the midfielder (86') ended things as a comeback was stopped short.

MD3: Super-Llamaland 4–2 Kaldtland

Another good game against an unranked side. Peter Masters (13', 60') and Bobby Crosby (42', 88') both dominated. There really isn't much to say here. TOP GOAL-SCORERS SO FAR: Ford (2), Masters (4), Brennaman, Duncan, Crosby (2)

MD4: Super-Llamaland 1–0 Sandwich Territories

The Tigers continued their run with an edgy 1-0 defense-fest against the Sandwichans. Fists flew briefly as the hot-headed captain Bobby Crosby was given a yellow card after slugging Bruce Ments for no apparent reason in the early second half. Kyle Sturgeon then put in the go-ahead goal in the eighty-fifth, making the Tigers extremely happy and the fans amazed at the shot. The team then won 1-0 off the goal, putting them in a battle for second. TOP GOAL-SCORERS SO FAR: Ford (2), Masters (4), Brennaman, Duncan, Crosby (2), Sturgeon

MD5: HopNation 1–2 Super-Llamaland

Another intense battle as Bobby Crosby put in an early second-half goal after getting an early second-half card last time. The Hops of HopNation rallied back to put in the equalizer with eight minutes (plus stoppage) to play, but Crosby then cut through the defense and slapped a kick off the left bar and in two minutes later to put the Tigers up for good. HopNation-Super-Llamaland, part two, should be fun to watch. TOP GOAL-SCORERS SO FAR: Ford (2), Masters (4), Brennaman, Duncan, Crosby (4), Sturgeon

MD6: Super-Llamaland 3–1 The Fair Republic

This really was no contest, with the lone goal coming from Some Guy (84') late in the game, when the subs were already out to get some garbage time. The Tigers got all three goals early on, coming from Ford (32'), Sturgeon (40'), and Alexander Cartwright (66'), who is only nineteen but scored within five minutes of starting his World Cup career. I like this guy and we'll have him for at least three more cycles unless something goes horribly wrong. TOP GOAL-SCORERS SO FAR: Ford (3), Masters (4), Brennaman, Duncan, Crosby (4), Sturgeon (2), Cartwright

[HopNation]

The Games

Another road game, another loss. We really need to turn that around if we want any chance of qualifying or even making one of those playoff spots. The Sandwich Territories played well on home ground and were able to keep the Hops at bay so to say. With a 3-1 victory The Royals maintained their second place in the group, but all three of the top teams in this group have 15 points so it seems to be GD has kept them in this second spot. From reviewing the game report it looks like Luke Havalotti had two of the three goals for The Royals and center mid Jackson Barnes knocked in the third. For the Hops it was Droimpol off of a direct free kick that got them on the board, but it was to little to late as the Hops were already down by three when they managed to get that free kick. Next up for the Hops is the last place team in the group of Kaldtland and we don't know much about them at this point, other than they are sitting on six losses in six games. We'd like to keep them on that trend, but we cannot let our recent streak get to our heads. We need to turn things around in this final game of the first leg and destroy the side from Kaldtland when they come to visit.

HopNation Match Ups

MD 1: vs The Fair Republic (5-1)	MD  8: @ The Fair Republic
MD 2: @ Theaoie (1-1)     		MD  9: vs Theaoie
MD 3: vs Seraphic Empire (3-0)          MD 10: @ Seraphic Empire
MD 4: @ Osarius (2-6)			MD 11: vs Osarius
MD 5: vs Super-Llamaland (1-2)	        MD 12: @ Super-Llamaland
MD 6: @ Sandwich Territories (1-3)	MD 13: vs Sandwich Territories
MD 7: vs Kaldtland			MD 14: @ Kaldtland
Win|Draw|Loss

The Expectations

It looks like nothing changed after the sixth match of the first leg, so the predictions are still staying unchanged. We'll be looking forward to this leg to be done and see how the Hops fair at the opposite venue and see if they can turn around their luck, but one more game to go on this section before that happens so here's a look at the current and predicted finishing spots. We do also note that the top three are starting to pull away in terms of points, the one big change might come with Osarius on the turn as they have not been heard from in a while and we don't know much about them other than that they are the top ranked team in our group.

Current Places:

1. Osarius
2. Sandwich Territories
3. Super-Llamaland
4. The Fair Republic
5. HopNation
6. Theaoie
7. Seraphic Empire
8. Kaldtland

Predicted Finish:

1. Osarius
2. Sandwich Territories
3. HopNation
4. Super-Llamaland
5. The Fair Republic
6. Seraphic Empire
7. Theaoie
8. Kaldtland

Well the last game of the first leg is set to get underway and we'll be back with more after it's conclusion. Until then Brew On Brew Well Hoptonians!

[Apox]

Forged in Fire - Part Six

Sparks of Revolution
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six

Forged in Fire
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five

Joe Carlton was wandering sullenly through the high street in Urbanista, frustrated at the fact that the rest of the ONP were advising calm and patience. They needed to act now! What could he do?

Then it hit him. If the ONP were to, perhaps, cause a scene and gain a lot of attention, then the rest of the ONP would have no choice but to begin the revolution now. What could go wrong? He secretly reckoned that the ONP were stronger than Jeff and John realised, and they’d be ready to attack any minute now.

He made a split second decision, and went for it, striding into the nearby supermarket and buying three bottles of wine as well as three washing up cloths and a roll of string. He walked round the back of the supermarket, and emptied out the bottles onto the floor. Conveniently, the supermarket was next to a petrol station, and he went over to the station. A bored looking obese attendant sat in the shop, reading a magazine.

He hurried over to the furthest dispenser from the guard and quickly filled up the bottles to the brim with petrol. The guard spotted him just as he was finishing up, and it was easy to outrun the man and his considerable girth. Back round the supermarket, he attached the washing up cloths to the bottles with the string, and pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

Standing in the walkway between the supermarket and the high street, he pulled his lighter out, and after a few seconds, the cloth was ablaze. After another couple of second to make sure it had properly caught fire, he hurled it into the middle of the street.

There was a loud bang, and the middle of the street was ablaze. Joe was a little afraid at the destruction he’d caused, but at the same time, the adrenaline and excitement of his actions spurred him on. The other two were easy to light and he threw one at the supermarket, causing the front to burn viciously, while he lobbed the other one as far down the street as possible, causing a similar effect to the first.

By now the entire street was a stampede of shoppers trying to get out of there, some people sporting serious burns and glass injuries from the blasts. After allowing himself a satisfied chuckle, Joe legged it back from where he had came, just as he began to make out the sound of police sirens in the distance.

***

“So, you think you’ve found somewhere suitable?” asked John the True, over the phone. He was sat in one of the conference rooms in Government House, with the Minister of Defense, Annabel Harwood, looking at him from across the table.

“Uhuh...yep...um, yeah... I see… Ok, cool, I’ll let him know,” said John, scribbling down as he spoke. Annabel had learnt over the last few days that you didn’t really get an answer from John whilst he was on the phone, and so she patiently waited until he’d finished before speaking,

“What’s he found?”

“Apparently its a good location, about 35 miles southwest of Urbanista, nice sheltered harbour, relatively flat land, but land that’s sloping slightly uphill to the hill behind it. Sounds good really,” he said, a small but sad smile on his face. Annabel couldn’t possibly imagine what he’d gone through over the last couple of days, his world must have been turned upside down.

“Excellent news,” she replied, trying to keep things bright, “we need to look at the feasibility of setting up a settlement ASAP.” John nodded sagely,

“I’ll get him to send me some pictures, and then I’ll be looking to go down and visit it, I might as well…” he trailed off when an aide abruptly entered the room. Annabel spun round at first angry, then alarmed. The aide stooped down and whispered something into her ear. She said up quickly and turned to John,

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go, something about an attack in Urbanista. Very urgent.” And with that she was gone, leaving John to sit alone in the room. Bored, he reached for the TV remote and switched the damn thing on. His face dropped, instantly.

[Alasdair I Frosticus]

The Fishy Dreams of Mr. Robert Percival

Number 1: the haddock

I am a representative of Melanogrammus aeglefinus.

And this means I am a tasty fish.

Indeed, some would claim that I am the tastiest of all fish.

My flesh is often battered, deep fried, and then served with a plate of fried chipped potatoes.

But I am a special tasty fish, for alone among the members of my former school, I have been placed within a smokehouse, where my delicious flesh will be given a special smoky flavour beloved of gourmets across the multiverse.

Look! I am now being served with a side order of onions to Juan Tzimisces!

He devours me hungrily, as readily as his football team devoured Torisakia last night.

(My dead fish eyes were able to watch that match on a television owned by the smokehouse security guard prior to my being cut down for consumption).

Certainly Mr. Tzimisces seems to appreciate the fine gift of sustenance I am able to provide him.

Were I still alive, I would be filled with pride.

And now he has finished consuming me.

I wonder if my head will be turned into stock?

The dream ends


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To: Paradystopi Department for the Advancement of Bonkers Behaviour and Horseradish Surveillance Technique Research Department (Audioslavian Division)

From: John Cometupelo

Dear Entities,

My name is John Cometupelo

I can certify that I am 'completely off my rocker' by mundy standards. For example, I have a sexual fetish for miniature violent violet elephants.

Not only does covering my naked body with jam and running around an apiary sound like fun, but this is indeed my primary personal hobby.

I would consider marrying a fillet of beef, though be warned I would have to end my engagement to Wanda the pork loin.

Last night there were no visiting fans at the Holy Empire-Torisakia match because I had duplicated 30,000 versions of myself, took up most of the visiting fans section, and the small number of Torisakians who had made the trip decided to stay away from me because they apparently found me a bit weird.

I also regularly have romantic feelings for my horseradish plant Lulu; she tells me she reciprocates these feelings, but that our relationship can never become physical so long as I'm engaged to Wanda.

So, I'll come straight to the point...

I believe you have a job for me.

Yours,

John

PS: Quack quack. I'm a Goose, Dammit!

[Razul]

RNPR Broadcast: Razul's Football and the 68th World Cup

Donald Rojo: Hi, this is Donal Rojo at RNPR here with one of the players on our new national football team. Welcome, Mr. Ortega. Eduardo Ortega:: Thank you, Donald, it's a pleasure to be here. Donald Rojo: So Mr. Ortega, what do you think of our team's progress so far. Eduardo Ortega:: Well the saying "You win some, you loose some" definitely comes to mind Donald. And that's not a good thing for a football team. If there was one thing in particular that we were failing at it would be easier to tell but with 3 wins and 3 losses, and each game pretty different, it's hard to tell what we need to work on. I myself would like a little more consistency in our playing style. To get a more advanced strategy view, you'd have to ask one of our coaches. They've been great this whole time. Really encouraging. Donald Rojo: Well, thank you for making time to give us your opinion. Eduardo Ortega:: My pleasure. Donald Rojo: Thanks for listening, this is Donald Rojo at Razul National Public Radio.

[Armakistan]

Armakistan pull off shock victory against NSI

The new boys of Armakistan pulled for the biggest win in their short history by beating a top 30 team and group 19 leaders Northern Sunrise Islands. Admittedly NSI played a lot of reserves but they still should have been more than a match for the extreme underdogs who keep shocking the world by climbing to 2nd in the table and are just 2 points off the top spot as we near the half way stage of group qualifying for the 68th edition of the NationStates World Cup. The passionate Armakistani players were definitely up for this game but they were given even more a mountain to climb when they went behind after just 5 minutes.

The fast dribbling and passing from the NSI players was looking like it was too much handle for the Armakistan defense as they almost ran the ball into the net leaving the center backs trailing behind. The goal came from Ming who tapped home from close range after the ball was rolled perfectly to the feet of the center forward who was receiving a rare start. However, if NSI thought it would be plain sailing they'd be wrong...very wrong. The Armakistan defense learnt quick and stood strong. The opposition could not break down the defense and if they did Daniels stood strong between the sticks. Then the unthinkable happened. NSI launched an attack towards goal but a wayward pass after the opposition where put under high pressure meant the ball was turned over and a quick counter attack launched out on the left hand side. Appleby played a quick one-two with Kelly and waited for support. He knocked the ball into the corner for the overlapping run off Boston who crossed the ball to the way to the other side of the box where Darling fired in a volley while unmarked.

At half time Armakistan were in wonderland but due they would have to work very hard to keep in the dream alive, and that is exactly what they did. For 35 minutes they put up the Armakistan wall which had proved vital in their BoF 55 run. Daniels was superb in keeping Armakistan in the game. This best save was stopping a close range shot with his leg and then immediate headed follow up with a fantastic reaction save with an outstretched arm. NSI became frustrated a number a silly challenges cost them possession as the teams approached the 80th minute. Netto Hikari and Hasato Kimiki both picked up yellow cards. Armakistan pounced on this and started to assert their attacking play. Substitute Jordan Lines made a darting run before playing to the ball to fellow replace William Taser who struck the post. Many thought that was the chance blown up in added time in the 92nd minute James Darling ran at his marker and with some tricky foot work turned his man inside out before squaring the ball to Lines who with one touch knocked it wide to Appleby. He halted the ball and then with a magical through ball picked out Nick Kelly unmarked in the box and star striker turned the ball into the back of the net without even looking. The goal sparked wild celebrations with the bench rushing onto the pitch. Kelly was booked for removing his shirt during the celebration but he didn't care. Armakistan 171st in the world had beat NSI 28th in the world. It was brilliant.

The team don't have long to get themselves back on the ground as they next play Lymantatia and then they move on the reverse fixtures. Can Armakistan complete the double against NSI could they win the group. Join us later to find out.

[Chiata]

The Secret War
Part 9

The Chiata Times

Deala Boils Over

Vonsterdan, Deala- At 1:00 pm, yesterday afternoon, Deala Government Chief of Staff Fredward Gordon addressed the croud of protesting pro-socialists, which numbered around 50,000. In his address, he ordered that the protesters should leave or face permanent deportation. He argued the croud should leave because they had prevented emergency personnel to reach their destination in a few instances.

Gordon waited an hour for the croud to disperse. However, a very small number of protesters actually left by 2:00 pm. By this time, riot police moved in and attempted to remove the protesters. Unfortunately, the mob fought back with whatever they could find, which ranged from pebbles and bricks to flare guns and metal tubes. The police combatted this with the use of riot shield, clubs, pepper spray, and tear gas. Pepper spray is a solution that when sprayed into the eye causes severe irritation. Tear gas is also an irritant that temporarily blinds whoever it touches and also irritates the skin.

By around 2:30, only 25% of the croud had retreated from the area. The protesters that remained were some of the toughest and most violent ones. Due to the increase in the violence, a SWAT team moved into the area just in case they were needed. At around 2:40, the fighting escalated to the point that there was a shot fired. It is not known if the croud or the police fired the shot. The SWAT team then opened fire on the violent croud further increasing the hostility. In retaliation, protesters returned fire with previously concealed pistols. A firefight ensued between the protesters and the police.

After 20 minutes of deadly confrontation, the situation came to a climax. At 3:00, three antipersonnel bombs went off within the croud. Once again, it is not known which side detonated the bomb. The one thing that is known is that the bombs had a devastating affect. After the blasts, the protesters disappeared almost instintaniously. What they left behind was a scene that we thought could only be made in movies.

The aftermath is by far the worst part of the incident. When emergency workers came they found the square full of dead and dying along with injured people with large gunshot wounds. As of now, the death count is at 59. This number is expected to grow as word comes in from the hospitals on the condition of the victims. 47 of the dead were protesters while 8 were police personnel. In all, 237 injured people were evacuated to area hospitals with all kinds of injuries.

Politically, this is a disaster. Tensions between Carialus and Deala have skyrocketed. Carialus says that Deala opened fire on an otherwise peaceful croud. Also, Carialus claims that the Deala police set off the three bombs to make the croud leave. From the Deala perspective, the police were protecting their capital building from a hostile occupation. When questioned about the incident, the Chiatan government stated they were disappointed by Deala's actions and hopes that Carialus can forgive them. Could this be a tipping point in an already dangerous time?

[Jeckland]

Dear Sir/Madman
Please consider this letter a declaration of interest in your current available position within the Paradystopi Department for the Advancement of Bonkers Behaviour and Horseradish Surveillance Technique Research Department (Audioslavian Division). I would like to tell you that I am completely and utterly bonkers. It drives me bonk... hey wait a minute! My main bonkerishness is my fetish for all inanimate objects, hence the spit marks and the goth lipstick on this letter. However, I am able to restrain my sexual desires in the vicinity of some objects, of which horseradish is one. I apologise for not writing an email, but googlemail had my IP address banned due to an unfortunate incident involving me, their servers and a vat of melted butter. God, I love to rub melted butter on my body. Feels so good. Anyway, I haven't been able to get a job for my 67 years because of my... interests, shall we say. Anyway, must dash. I forgot to turn a lightbulb off before I licked it and now my tongue is four times the size it should be, so maybe I should go and find a doctor. Of course, I'll need to get naked and cover myself in melted butter before going out in public.

Yours Sinksearly
Peter Peter (I named myself)

[The greater Vakolicci Haven]

Blacksen Domination stood in the midst of his team, his arms outstretched. The beating of his heart thumped against his inner chest like the movement of a fist, as if it was attempting to crush his ribs from the inside.

"And we lost," he said, matter of factly.
His head raised slightly. "Turori are the best team in our group," he continued.
"But that doesn't mean that losing to them should be perfectly normal, because it isn't. One day, we'll be playing against them, and better. And on that day, we'll beat them 3 to nothing. With a little time...with a little experience, we'll be far better than anything anyone or anything we can face.

This is a young team, and we're already as good. In a few years, we'll be even better, and we all know that. For now, we'll have to keep going the way we're going, but drop back a bit more. Miralim, give Laura more protection on the left, and I want you John to act more like an attacking midfielder. I think you can all do that, can't you?"
"Yes," was the muted response.
"Excellent. Now...we're facing a team we know will probably be ranked higher than us, we almost always are. But we also know that we will one day be the best in the world at this gods awful sport, and that we just have to believe in ourselves. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," was the slightly less muted response.

"Very well," he continued. "The Fortress tonight. Let's show these fools what we can do, shall we?"

[The greater Vakolicci Haven]

The Fortress, The Della Barecci Metropolis, The Greater Vakolicci Haven

The fortress was a golden mountain on the north side of the Della Barecci Metropolis. Rows of seats rose on each side, all set to provide a spectacular view of the pitch below.

If one looked closely, however, one would see some rather...specialist alterations. For example, the gates that separated the home fans from the away fans did meet Vakolicci standards, but they were most definitely hostile in design.
The gates locking mechanisms, meant to segregate sets of fans to make sure they exited through different exits and prevent rioting, were very well secured on the side facing the away supporters. On the side facing the home supporters, however, all it took was to simply lift a very small bar and push the gates open.

The reason behind it was simple. Vakolicci football was a riot-heavy sport, and United and Metropolitan, who called this stadium home, were a team with rioting fans. This stadium, therefore, was designed to allow U&M's 'Red and Green Army' the chance to ensure that any rioting that could happen would be on their terms and their terms alone.

Svengarta's team were ranked higher than the Haven's, so as the 2 teams prepared, so did the Red and Green Army. They knew that the odds were stacked against the Vakolicci: therefore, thousands of men, women and even children with guns and knives were ready to turn a defeat into a massacre for the opposition fans.

"The Greater Vakolicci Haven!" boomed the announcer as the trumpets and fireworks heralded the entry of the Vakolicci team. They were greated by a tidal whave of over 200,000 people roaring, cheering, whistling and applauding in union.

The match would soon begin.

[Kernansquillec]

Ten reasons why football sucks

1. Effectively people enjoy watching grown men and women running around in circles in a small field trying to knock a piece of material blown up with pressurized air in between two sticks. Why not just a good old cat and a ball of string?

2. The worst bit is that people actually get paid to do all of that, which is nothing at all. Why don’t I get paid for walking my dog or some other insignificant act? Soon we’ll be paying people simply for breathing in and out.

3. Is there anything more boring that football? All that happens is a ball is kicked down one end, then down the other, with a few people tackling each other for no other reason than to get hold of the ball. Yawn! Where’s the action? Where’s the suspense? 9 times out of 10 we know who’s going to win anyway…

4. The offside rule: I mean like WTF? It’s so complicated most people don’t understand it. And it’s a load of rubbish. Imagine if you had the same kind of rules in war or love. “Sorry mate, you would have scored with that pretty lady there. Unfortunately you arrived at the nightclub just half a yard too soon so your opposite number will have a free shot”. WHY?!

5. Added time: are you telling me that refs can’t stop and restart a clock? Well no, in football they can’t. So instead they invent a magical number at the end of each half to try and cover some of the lost time. Why don’t you just count it FFS?

6. Divers: I think even football fans will join me here. You have the divers who are cheaters. But you also have these idiots who fall over with minimal contact. Imagine a rugby player did that? These players are utter pricks and are a disgrace to the human race as a whole.

7. Football fans: Have you ever seen supporters that are as barbaric, rude, insolent, idiotic, thick and drunk as football fans? Before the match they drink, they swear and make up idiotic remarks about things they either don’t understand or can’t control. During the match they drink, they swear, made up idiot remarks about things they don’t understand, can’t control or didn’t see and they also chant stupid songs about stuff to do with running around in a field after a ball, generally with a lot of rude words chucked in. And after the match, they drink (and throw up), they swear (a lot if they’ve lost), make idiotic and uneducated remarks about a future they don’t know and things they didn’t see during the match and they also can start up fights with rival supporters for no other reason than it makes them fell go to “do their part for their team”. Do I need to add anything else?

8. Losing: football fans and players are such bad losers! Every time they lose they make up excuses or pretend that things will be better next time round. Are you a liar or are you in denial? Well if you’re a football fan you’ve got to be one of the two.

9. Stadiums: who likes stadiums? I mean really… They are ugly concrete moments to capitalism and getting a hole load of everything for doing next to nothing useful. And not only that, when you get suck in a part you don’t like – if you can’t see the game, if you’re with the noisy and/or rude fans or if you’re in the high bit of the stadiums that reminds you that you’re frightened of heights – it’s horrible.

10. The final reason why it’s okay to hate football is that there are so many other things out there that are better than it. Cricket for one is a respectful and enjoyable sport. Dancing is another. Let’s show that we are a civilized country and give up this barbaric sport. It’s only marginally better that the gladiators for crying out loud.

KERFA Overview

KERNANSQUILLEC 3 - 2 Arab County
Lilac 36' Fengouli 71' Iris 88' // Al-Mohammed 45'+1' 55'

Kernansquillec's currant league position: 3rd/8 (4-0-2, +6)

Next game: vs. Vettrera (at The Epicenter, Vettrera)

Expected starting line-up: Kate Elyssa; Mary Cressac, Julian Yegos, Jean Dubois, Stuart Kellah; Julia Fengouli, Silvio Quaby, Marie Iris, Zac Poutre, Adélaïde Noupen; Peter Lilac

[Buyan]

Whether Dimitri enjoyed his job? If someone would ask it, he’ld probably say yes. But thoroughly loving it? True, he could witness all home games live, from one of the best places in the national stadium. The skybox gave a grand view over the pitch and he loved to see the heroes of the grass perform their patriotic duty. But much more, he liked to enjoy football shoulder to shoulder with his friends and colleagues, in the damp of spilled beer and hotdog sauce. Now he sat here, all alone, announcing changes, line-ups and some commercial news during the breaks. Alone.

Close to fifty thousand souls in the area, but no one ever entered his private space. Unfortunately, the FA representative had told him that he should be present an hour before the game and couldn’t leave till the last man get left his spot again. People often whistled between their teeth in contempt when he said he was the official speaker of The Nine, but how glad Dimitri would’ve been to swap. It’s lonely when you’ve got to watch football without shouting to the lad next to you, singing along with the crowd.

But no time anymore to daydream, he still had to learn the Nyucian names by heart. When he walked by their dressing rooms, none of them was talkative. They probably didn’t understand a word Dimitri was saying to them, despite his common knowledge of the lingua franca of the sporting regions. Eventually, one of them pressed a slip of paper with eleven names in his hand.

Tzrizak Tsinamdzgvrishvili. Cherriona Saltalamacchiana. Rzuczslaw Rzepczynskivitsh. Fflamddwyn Cynndellwson. Mukhransk...

A few soft knocks rose Dimitri from his study.

“Yes?” he said. Who would bother him with only six minutes left before kick-off?

The visitor entered in haste, but was every inch a gentlemen as usual.

“I am sorry to bother you at this untimely hour, my friend, I’m not interrupting you, I hope?”
“Of... Of course not, mister Hope,” Dimitri stuttered, as he wasn’t used to the national coach coming up to his humble steed.
“It’s upon a certain practicality. You’ve already received the list of players for today?”
“Yes sir, I’ve received them prior already,” the speaker rattled, once he had gathered himself, “they much resemble those from the newspapers, I must say, good to see a few youngsters on the pitch and...”
“I see, I see,” Hope smiled, “but can you make one small alteration?”
“Not a problem, sir, not a problem at all.”

Without saying anything, Sirius handed a small paper with a name on it to the man. He knew he wouldn’t need to say anything upon the position. With eyes like saucers, Dimitri tried to process what he just read.

“Him? But... He’s...”
“No longer, my friend. He’s our national goalie. He's the hero of Empire Stadium, the man who saved us against Jeru FC and who brought us back a point from Albaie.”

---

XI for Buyan - Nyucia

X
Ignas Smetona – Sigurd Tufte – Bronius Bartkus – Kazimieras Zemaitis
Quinten Zermin
Espen Knutsen - Eero Halmiini – Sverre Devold – Sico Ullsmang
Duco Dalmshelf

Hope fielded a few youngsters that deserved some time on the pitch.

One more RP of patience, my friends.

[Sandwich Territories]

OOC: Anyone that might have been ICly targeted below shouldn't feel the need to respond if they don't want to, but of course, I would accept any response.

"And now, we are going live to a press conference with Jarred Collins in Port Tradail."

"Thank you everyone for coming out today to talk to me, but I want to talk about only one thing today, and that is how Bobby Crosby is cheapest P.O.S I have ever had the injustice to meet."

*Crowd gasps with photo lenses clicking*

"Yeah, that's right. Send it to him personally for me too. What kinda bastard intentionally hurts a player recovering from a heart attack?! This.....this thing should be fined, suspended from football, and, even arrested for trying to intentionally hurt someone. I hope this idiot gets everything he deserves, and let it be known that every time I see him, on or off the field, I will make his life a living nightmare."

*Crowd continues to take pictures during brief silence*

"How a dignified FA can make an ass like this their captain.....I have no clue. Just shameful. When you represent your country, you do it with our brothers. When a brother goes down in such a life threatening condition, the whole team feels like it is losing a brother. A family member. So when we SEE THIS SORT OF GARBAGE HAPPEN TO ONE OF THE MOST DOWN TO EARTH, RESPECTABLE, HARDWORKING PLAYERS ON OUR TEAM, DAMN STRAIGHT WE ARE GOING TO LET THEM HEAR ABOUT IT! HE IS A ROLE MODEL TO MANY ON AND OFF THE PITCH. I SURE AS HELL HOPE THAT NONE OF OUR YOUTH TRIES TO ACT LIKE GOD DAMN CROSBY."

*Some clapping, but mostly silence is heard*

"A god damn embarrassment to football this is, and that is all I have to say about that."

*Collins storms off the stage, leaving many stunned*

Later, a message was delivered by the Sandwich FA manager Max Bellerd to the media.

"We will not comment on the comments made by Mr. Collins at this time, and we will do so when we feel as though we have learned enough about the situation to make a just decision. Mr. Ments is doing fine. Thank you."

[Sargossa]

Inner Sanctum, Presidential Palace. Soluca.

“Stirring stuff.” Gregorio Emparán placed the file back onto his desk. “And dangerous. ‘We will drive a giant sword into the hearts of our enemies’. If you had any imminent trips to Iturributa planned I’d suggest you reschedule. Somewhat brazen of them, gunning the Grand Duke down in the street like that.”

“So it would appear.”

The Sargossan president cocked an eyebrow. “You have suspicions?”

Alejandro Ereros, former Director of State Intelligence, smiled. “You do pay me to have suspicions. But in this case suspicions are all they are. An opportunistic act of domestic terrorism is certainly no stretch of the imagination. And I suggest we tow that particular line. But we also can’t overlook the fact that Gaskon Ugarte should have been present in that motorcade and now his absence has made him a very important man indeed.”

“Yes it has.” The president tapped a button on his desk. “Elena, an instruction for Minister Carizzo’s office. I’d like him to draft a message for Lord Protector Gaskon Ugarte. We are shocked and saddened to hear of the tragedy that has befallen the Grand Duchy and we will of course provide whatever support we can in these trying times. Some bumf like that. Thank you Elena. So where do we stand with Iturributa?”

“There are a number of trade links.”

“And would these links involve weaponry of any kind?”

“Officially, that would be no. Unofficially there is a Conquista decommissioning plant in La Serena in which stock and inventory may not entirely match.”

Emparán tapped an index finger against his temple. “Perhaps it would be prudent to ensure that those stock levels remain somewhat more consistent, at least until the situation in Astograth becomes clearer. But to another subject. Carizzo’s last briefing indicated that Virabi command and control across the Islas Enojadas is all but gone. This is the opportunity we have been waiting for. I trust your cell has been fully immersed.”

“They have. And a senior operative has also been in situ for some time. The operation is codenamed ‘Talon’. We just need your approval.”

“Talon?” Emparán’s pen scratched quickly across a sheet of paper. He scrutinised his handiwork before sliding it across to Ereros. “Consider it approved. Now I’ve got another Mytannion briefing in five minutes and no doubt something Euran related. I’m so sick of the fucking Eurans.”

Recognising his cue Ereros got up and turned to leave. “I’ll see it done.”

“And Jandro. No mistakes this time. I really don’t want a repeat of Kűlmsaar.”

[Albaie]

The Road To The World Cup

Gathering The Team

Ben Werek 18 Dubrack's Town Celtic Attacking Right Midfielder 60 caps 23 goals


" Forward. " He heard his father cry from down the line. The bugle played the forward march and 1st Battalion 7th Imperial "Werek's Own " Hussars began their charge. Ben touched his spurs to his horse and it moved forwards in time with his two brothers on either side of him. Up in front the Lord's Alliance waited. A shell came whizzing over head before it came down with an explosion in the enemy front ranks. His horse jittered but he kept it under control stroking it's mane. " The 1st Battalion will pick up pace. " His father again commanded and the bugle played again. He applied more pressure with his spurs and his horse responded in kind.

It seemed just like yesterday the war had begun. His father Lord Benjamin Werek 17th Lord of Werekton had long been a officer of the 7th Imperial Hussars and had managed to gain all his sons a commission. That was how the famed Werek triplets the swashbuckling brave eccentric wingers had gone from playing like that on a football pitch to fighting like that on a battlefield. Captain Count Benjamin Werek of Crawtown as he known in the military was fast becoming a name that was associated with honour, bravery and glory. It was only last week while on a patrol instead of calling for back up he had ridden by himself into the heart of a enemy held village to free a young girl from rape and then escaped with he only mark of combat the blood on his sword.

To be honest he had been embarrassed being a ensign with the older officers ordering about on menial tasks but he had quickly gained promotion to Lieutenant. It had Ben after the charge at the Battle of Farstride when he had taken four men and charged a artillery emplacement capturing 12 heavy guns and the ammunition as well as making prisoners of the gun crews. He had been given a Distinguished Service Medal for his actions as well as a promotion and he hadn't looked back. Battle after battle he had distinguished himself with his bravery, bravado and skill. He was only a captain at the moment because he had to serve the minimum of a year between each promotion. The Emperor himself had promised him the rank of Major in the 1st Imperial Legion Imperial 1st Hussars. People had always said his career in football had been quick but his rise in the army was exceptional. The Emperor and Field Marshall Deberen were tracing his meteoric rise and it was said that the two were considering after his year as Major, fast tracking him to Brigadier and giving him a Light Cavalry brigade to command.

As much as he loved the military though he missed football. He was only a hussar because it allowed him to keep that level of bravado and fame he had loved while being a footballer. If he wasn't a hussar and he had to have served as a officer of foot he would have almost certainly gone too far in battle and right now he'd be at peace in the chapel of his family estate. Every Friday him and his brothers still played a game of football with some of the other junior officers of the regiment but it wasn't the same. There was no Deberen making gestures and shouting at him to keep up the flowing fast pace attack they both loved. There was no Erentsen at the back a man he could trust with his life, there was no William calmly emitting a aura of inspiration like every son of Dubrack as he clashed through tackle after tackle and spraying the ball directly to peoples feet. He couldn't run past defenders an then turn them inside out and then pass it to his brother and joke he couldn't, there was no Vincent or Elecki upfront who he knew could place every thing he sent there way into the net. He missed his comrades and the men almost his brothers.

His mind came out of his thoughts as he reached the enemy line. A man thrust a bayonet at him but he pushed it away with his sword and then stabbed down at the mans throat slicing it open. He could hear the infantry advancing through the trees to his left and any second now the Imperial footmen would break from the woods and carry the day. A second man ran at him stabbing up at him but he lent back and the man's stab just cut through air and then Ben returned with his own attack cutting across the man's face and his scream pierced the air. Ben pulled his revolver from it's holster and pointed at the next man in the line.

" For the Emperor ! " He roared and fired watching as the man was thrown backwards." Onwards ! " He cried holstering his revolver and putting his spurs in as he charged sword in hand. He caught the first bayonet with his sword pushed it aside and cut down across the man's chest. The second man almost got him but as he almost struck Ben cut his arm off from the elbow and as he collapsed screaming he received a horse hoof to the had to end his cries. As he cut open the back of soldier turning away from him's head the enemy all started backing away from the finely dressed hussar who was like a horseman from hell. He gutted another soldier who tried to charge him when he heard the infantry roar and break from the trees. The enemy simultaneously turned and fled and the hussars chased with them. As Ben howled war cries he flittered between them. Not a man that crossed his path lived more than a few seconds.

" Ben come back. " He heard a cry and turned to see his brother next to a rather disheveled rider dressed all in black. He trotted over to them sad he was missing the chase.
" Benjamin Werek ? " The man asked.
" Yes that's me. " He replied.
" Message from the Emperor. " The man said holding out a note.

To Benjamin Werek
You are to report to Sturte House by Saturday morning. You are to play in Albaie's team for the next World Cup. You are excused from all duties and to are get to Dubrack's Town as fast as possible.
Emperor Michael II

Ben smiled and looked up to see his brothers also smiling. Looks like he would be going back to football.

[Astograth]

[Northern Sunrise Islands]

RADIO ESPORTIVA
Chapter 7: The Dragon-type Pokémon

Sunrise: Esportival?
Licen: Adds impact to civil.
Sunrise: Whatever you say.
Licen: Well... would you be up for it?
Sunrise: What's the deal?
Licen: You need to retrieve us something.
Sunrise: No hidden fan park test, right?
Licen: Huh?
Sunrise: Oh... I guess it's fine then. What do I have to look for?
Licen: Our magic red and white cricket ball!
Sunrise: Red and White? Like a Pokéball.
Licen: Yes, but not.
Sunrise: *sigh*
Licen: Looks like a pokéball, but it isn't!
Sunrise: Well, where is it?
Licen: Generalville.
Sunrise: No way in hell.
Licen: I'll pay you enough to keep the radio up for months!

With those words, Sunrise quickly ran to his room and returned dressed a la Bruce Lee.

Licen: *sigh* Just be careful, for Christ's sake.

Hours later, at the weird slum of Generalville.

GAS: I cannot believe I agreed going with you. Plus, why are you dressed like that?
Sunrise: Because one must not head into danger without being trained in the ways of the ultimate fighting.
GAS: Then shouldn't you be dressed like a MMA guy?
Sunrise: Enough! Way to search is in your head, not in your stomach!
GAS: That's Karate. And loosely.
Sunrise: Shhh... there's some people coming on our way.

They hided on an alley, as they noticed a couple of people playing with a white and red ball. Could that be what Licen talked about? Sunrise quickly leaped into action, making a common martial arts pose.

Sunrise: You will no longer possess the holy object of my people.
????: Fool! What one has given to the Bronies, one shall not take back!
Sunrise: Bronies!?

The Sunrise gave it a better look only to find out that he was facing, in fact, a bunch of Bronies, with Equestrian as their leader.

Equestrian: So... it seems the young one has returned from his hiding!
Sunrise: That was an once-in-a-lifetime encounter! One that I'll make sure to rewrite!
Equestrian: Fool... you couldn't beat me then, you can't beat me now! Or can't you remember? It's not time for Flashbacks, you'll have time to remember later!

Sunrise was then supposed to have a Flashback, but was blocked by Equestrian's words.

Sunrise: ...Oh, you didn't! *makes a Kung Fu pose*
Equestrian: Oh, I did! *makes a Kung Fu pose*
Sunrise: You did NOT! *makes a Kung Fu pose*
Equestrian: I DID! *makes a Kung Fu pose*
Sunrise: Grrrr... *makes a Kung Fu pose*
Equestrian: Hahahahah! You can't stop us-

Before the line was finished, GAS shoots one of Equestrian's allies on his' right leg, causing it to crumble down. The other mooks simply run off, while Equestrian looks shocked as GAS points his gun at him.

GAS: Hand the ball now. We don't have time for more of this crap.
Equestrian: ...It was getting boring anyways.

Equestrian throws the ball to Sunrise and runs off as well, making then winners... sorta.

Hours later, at the Cricket Ground.

Licen: Ah, you finally arrived, Sunrise!
Sunrise: Yeah... I got your ball... Well, we got your ball back.
Licen: Smashing, mate!
Sunrise: Eh... good enough. Just give me my payment.
Licen: Well, here you go.

Licen hands Sunrise a bag with money, smiling as he gets the ball, nicknamed by Esportivans as the Mighty Kurwaball.

Licen: Would you like to watch?
GAS: Nah... we don't get the rules.
Licen: Oh, they are simple...

Licen reaches for a book with dozens of pages, opening to start reading before Sunrise cuts him off.

Sunrise: We... we really have to go. We need to... uh... play Fists of Fury.
GAS: Fists of-
Sunrise: See? He likes it a lot. Maybe next time. Bye.

The duo leaves the area, while Licen brings the ball with him to the other players.

Apox: Ah, so he found the ball?
Licen: Indeed. Now we can play.
Glo: Yes! And then, when we start, I'm going to score dozens and dozens and dozens, then I'll win everyone, then I'll crown myself king of the world and-
Licen: Relax, mate... It's just a training match.
Paradys: You guys are sure that this is our ball? It's a bit too heavy...

Our focus moves back to "our heroes".

GAS: So, I talked with that Hodori guy you talked about.
Sunrise: Oh, so... how did you like him?
GAS: He's pretty cool. Lots of stuff about cars everywhere and

BOOM!

Licen: SUNRISE!
Sunrise: Oh, damn... just when I thought an episode would end normally.

The players sprout near the duo, all smoked up as a result of the explosion that was caused by the Electrode that they mistakenly took from Equestrian and his friends.

Paradys: Come back here... we want to talk.
Apox: YES! AND KICK YOUR BLOODY HEAD IN!
GAS: AAAHHHH!

Hours Later.

Kitsunia: I see you guys liked my treehouse.
Sunrise: Indeed. Great thought.
GAS: This wasn't such a bad idea after all.

The "camera" focuses out, showing the cricket players jumping, trying to catch the duo to give them their lesson.

Kitsunia: When stuff like this happens once to you, you kinda figure out that you need to build something.
Sunrise: Indeed... Do you think they'll let us go down soon?
GAS: Maybe. They can't jump for too long.
Sunrise: Maybe next season, I guess. Does it sounds good enough for you?
GAS: Yeah.
Kitsunia: Fine for me.

SEE YOU AT SEASON 2
a.k.a.
THE OTHER HALF OF THE QUALIFIERS

[Blouman Empire]

THE EMPIRE TIMES

After the whistle

It is rumoured that a consortium led by packaging tycoon Sir James Velters are interested in purchasing Jollipville Athletic from current owner Baron Serfus Trim. If the sale were to go ahead it would add a further dimension to the rivalry between Atheltic and their cross town rival Jollipville United currently owned by Lord George Greeson, Sir James’ main competitor in the packaging business.

Northport’s manager Brian Easton became a father yesterday with the birth of his first child. The boy the couple’s first came in at 6.5 pounds with both baby and mother reportedly doing well. ATW express our congratulations to Brian and his wife Sally.

TV star Melissa Noradus was spotted in the WAG box at the Jeckland National Sports Stadium when the Blouman Eagles played Jeckland, it is rumoured she came as a guest of midfielder John Miller, both the FFB and Melissa’s manager refused to confirm why she was there. John and Melissa have been spotted together a few times recently after the two met at the FFB Player Of The Year dinner held at the start of the year.

Which Braxon City FC star is in transfer talks with Pollerton? ATW are placing bets on William Folk who has reportedly been unhappy playing with the club for some time. As reported by ATW last month Folk’s agent was sourcing clubs for interest in the player. As always watch this space

Still on Braxon City FC the club announced yesterday that they have extended the contract of midfielder Steven Mallard. Steven is currently performing international duties for the Empire and his recent form for both club and country has made the Braxon board want to secure his services for a while longer. The new contract is for a further 3 years with a reportedly payday of 7.5million Herzogs a year before undisclosed bonuses.

Do you have any footballing news or rumors? If so send to atw@empiretimes.be