World Cup 81: Roleplay Thread

[Taeshan]

The Purple Knights had a big road test under themselves as they headed to another relative unknown in the form of Freeport. After a less than stellar match at home to a somewhat familiar Coldfield side the Knights were looking to get back to their scoring ways. With a rather trouncing victory for Baker Park in Coldfield the Knights knew they would have to do well on the road in Freeport to have any chance to keep pace with the two leaders, with Baker Park having the Knights, and Darmen left on their schedules they had to keep pace for any hope of making a playoff spot to be in the minds of the Knights fan. Currently it looks like a two horse race, but after the tie against Coldfield, the Knights seem to intend to make it a 4 team race, but we will see what happens there.

The matchup was a rather tense one with a scoreless first half. The Knights seemed eager to score but had some difficulty putting the right players in the right positions. Alex Turniquette went out injured 30 minutes in requiring a replacement in Seth Green, which may have derailed any second half sub hopes if Aleksandr Denisov hadn't made it 1-0 early in the second half. The seemingly 12th man of the team Alson Figueroa came on for Enrique Fuegahita, who at this point seems a 70 minute player lacking fitness, and the Knights kicked it into another gear after that. The final sub saw Daigo Coshan come in for the Captain Snavely who looked out of sorts. While the team was impressive they only managed a 2nd goal from Randall Abl Bakr who did rather well to clean up a spilled save from the Freeport Goalie.

[Tinhampton]

TFA MATCH STATPACK: Tinhampton 4-0 Cobrio
Venue: Tukari Kaita National Stadium, nr Camaron, Cobrio

STARTING LINEUPS and their USED SUBSTITUTES:

• Tinhampton (4-1-3-2): 1. Josh SMITH (GK), 2. William POTTER, 3. Harry PORTER, 4. Jamie VALLEY, 5. Peter WRIGHT, 6. Michael YOUNG 7. Ian JONES (C), 8. Mohamed al-KHAZR, 9. Fred BALL, 10. Priscilla EVANS, 11. Ian GRAHAM (↻ 85' WILLIAMSON)
• Cobrio (4-1-1-1-3?): 1. Idowu CRUZ (GK), 2. Jamaal COOPER, 5. Andre JOHNSON, 6. Lewis ARMSTRONG (C), 3. Garland SPENCE, 4. Sylvain PICARD, 8. Iqadi MUNROE (↻ 66' FONTAINE), 10. Chijindum EKEH (↻ 85' ARAYA), 11. Maurice DELFOUR, 9. Babatunde WARRINGTON, 7. Raymond DUPRÉ
  No players were unable to play today.

GOALS: Priscilla EVANS 02'55'' (TIN), Priscilla EVANS 41'48'' (TIN), Jamie VALLEY 76'55'' (TIN), Ben WILLIAMSON 89'12'' (TIN).
CARDS: Yellow: Lewis ARMSTRONG 40' (Cobrio, trigram unknown), Fred BALL 61' (TIN), Sylvain PICARD 78' (Cobrio), Ben WILLIAMSON 90+1' (TIN). Red: none.
INJURIES: Iqadi MUNROE 66' and out for one game (Cobrio), Mohamed al-KHAZR 88' but will recover in time for the next game (TIN).
OTHER INCIDENTS: None.

---

Forays of Folly
Season 1, Episode 6: All Pawned Out

---

For a while, all was well in the Ministry of the Military. The Democrats and Monarchists may have split, but - in the eyes of Tinhampton - Mexico socialista was set to be a popular paradise filled with sunshine and happy and flowers and rainbows and cute little bunny rabbi... oh, wait a minute. Shit went to shit five days later and a statement was quickly trotted out:

THIS DOCUMENT PARTIALLY REDACTED FOR NATIONAL SECURITY

Following the recent collapse of liberal democratic military forces within Mexico Socialista, and after some moderately passionate telephone calls with the Mayor, the Tinhamptonian Army is currently sending out a contingent of two thousand men to Mexico socialista. I strongly believe aonsdoghfsidojfg sorgno igonjsfdsdf ohgsnodfsd osh o sgs fogu dfbga osfuas fubasdf egosdfn sonv ieriso dosfnsd oshdnfksd oubsvd s ofhg sfong sdof oshgsdofsdif sodih oeigf will be truly beneficial.
Tinhamptonian objectives in Mexico socialista include oudgkn fogn sgijsn girubgrihgbjng srhbs ifsdbmfsydifb siugur sidnof, the commencement of Tinhamptonian diplomatic mission in the country and a transition to a stable democracy. All help from like-minded nations, whether or not fellow supporters of the old pro-democratic domestic forces, will be appreciated.

A note on consultations: Such operations would normally require consent from both the Foreign Minister and the Mayor; however, in her absence and considering the earlier declaration of war on the Mexican socialist government, the consent of the Foreign Minister - and of her stand-in, Kevin Wright - is automatically presumed.

Of course, Saffy Howard did not care that there was absolutely no consent for the war from the Mayor whatsoever, and certainly no phone calls of any level of passion, but push ahead with the hot war on Mexico socialista she did. Not only did she push ahead with the war, but she also - willingly, still lacking Mayoral consent - sought to ally with the Galactic Liberal Democracy on this issue, a plan they accepted.
And not only were the Tinhamptonians supported by the Galactic Liberals, but they also - somehow - swept from the east to record massive gains in a matter of days, or so it is somehow written in the Great Big Stonking Log of Tinhamptonian Military History. If you want some scale, it is not great, not big, not stonking, not a log, is only occasionally Tinhamptonian, doesn't always cover the military and - as we have just learned - does not devote itself entirely to history.
We return to the Thirty-First day of August, in the Year of our Margaret Two-Thousand and Eighteen. "About the war, Victoria, it's going so well that we've probably taken over a lot of that forsaken land by now, or at least that's what I've been told." "What the hell are you trying to tell me, Kevin? We're already fighting well enough, for fuck's sake! But I don't know how well we're doing, and I don't know how well they're doing, and I don't know why we should be doing what we're doing, and I don't know why we should be in this war, and I don't know what justified us being drawn into all this nonsense, and I don't know what the hell you were thinking when you threw me that wad of cash, and I don't know which of the other two sides pose the greatest threat to us, and I don't know what this has to do what how what this Clive Turnbull manager bloke thingy the Sentinel reported, and I don't..." And so it carried on for a few more seconds until Mayor John Price strode into the room and yelled at both of them to keep the tensions down, whilst revealing the square root of diddly squat about his lack of consent for the war, thereby meaning that everybody lived grumpily ever after. The En---SHIT I FORGOT WE HAVE ANOTHER FIVE DOZEN EPISODES BEFORE THIS ENDS

[Adab]

A Dance with Football
A look into the lives of the people involved in Adabian football and those associated with them

Chapter 9: All Roads Lead Back to...

Two weeks ago
Adab City

Taymour Frangieh drove himself round and round the streets, hands holding on tight to the steering wheel, teeth clenched shut and his lips letting out not even a sight. The streets were mostly deserted - not surprising considering they were really on the outskirts of the city - but even if they had been filled to the brim it wouldn't have mattered to him anyway. The Beirut boy was lost in the moment, caring for nothing and no one, and he didn't see any reason to care anyway. Tonight the traffic lights were of no importance to him. Nor were the few pedestrians he encountered, crossing the road beneath dimmed lights and signs of mom-and-pop shops closed for the night.

An outsider's idea of Adab City was of the greatest metropolis in the Middle East, a monument to the modern era, skyscrapers bunched together, a technological marvel and economic center. Indeed it was the most visible face of the city. Yet, like so many other cities around the world, it too had its dark, dilapidated parts, where poverty was the name of the game and only the bravest dared to come out at night, amid whispers of robbery and general lawlessness. This was the face that no good person dared to show, and this was the place where Taymour sought comfort from his troubles, though deep down he knew that he couldn't find it here.

Perhaps it was a mistake to be at the top of the world at such a tender age. Was he being punished by God? Taymour Frangieh was born into a relatively wealthy family in Beirut. He likely could have just invested the money in whatever he liked and then spent the rest of his life sitting idly at home and still leave a fortune to his heirs. But that wasn't the life that Taymour imagined for himself, and he turned to the one thing that truly made his life: football. He was all of seventeen when the Adabian national team made its way, against all odds, to the quarterfinals of the Independents Cup. Now eighteen, he found himself part of the country's World Cup squad. The World Cup. The money from the Independents Cup, the sponsorship deals, and of course that little part of the family fortune were a little overwhelming for the young man, but he tried to deal with the matter as wisely as he could.

He dropped out of homeschooling (allegedly without the family's consent) and broke away from his parents, declaring that he was leaving Beirut for good. He bought a house just outside Adab City. Nothing too extravagant, just another bungalow. And he treated himself to a car. Granted it was a small city car, but if anything it showed something of a business acumen in the young man; he wasn't going to spend his hard-earned money on some luxury car or SUV that would likely never have a passenger over the next few years. Sounds good for our man, right? Well it was all good for him until he returned to Beirut for a while to visit his parents and high school friends, upon which he was informed that one of his closest friends had died. He had been his friend at middle and high school. He was suck in broad daylight by a driver who was clearly out of his mind. Yet another young life needlessly wasted by driving under influence.

From time to time he would find himself stalked day and night, occasionally by fans and much more often by paparazzi, who at one point photographed him entering his house after a night with some of his teammates at the local cafe. What was on their mind? His teammates insisted it was his good looks - I don't even look that good - combined with his introverted personality, which gave him something of an "otherworldly aura". Lawsuits were on his mind, but he still hadn't gotten around to actually suing those people. Between facing constant violations of his privacy and his own mortality, it was inevitable that things would soon get into his head. Terrible, useless, disorienting things. Anger with a dose of desperation and paranoia. So that takes us to where we are now, as that sweet small city car made its way to one which it had traveled less than an hour ago. Going nowhere in the dead of the night, with no clear direction and no clear motive but to clear up his mind and curse the wicked, unfair world.

He had long lost track of time when clarity finally reigned in his mind once more. By his own estimation, he had been driving around and around, back and forth, crossing the same streets for a full hour, maybe two. Not that it mattered anymore; the night was growing old and the clock had struck midnight. Taymour had heard the unsavory news and all the terrible rumors that came with it; as angry as he was, he was not angry enough to pick a fight with thieves, robbers, burglars, and their kind.

Soon he was riding down the nearby highway, but this was not the direction home. Why didn't he want to go home? Why, at midnight, wouldn't he go back to the comforts of his house and jump onto the bed and fall asleep right away? Did he want to avoid the paparazzi, or was he too angry to even bother with them, and weren't those two things not mutually exclusive? At least he was somewhat better at thinking straight by this hour, though he wasn't sure why he wasn't heading home. Then he tried to remember why he even decided to take this particular highway. But he never felt it was time to turn around and go back home.

Then he remembered the last time he took this highway, six nights ago when he was driving to a dinner thrown by a grateful host for the national team and their staff. That was the first time he had visited the place since before the Independents Cup. The grateful host, in fact, was himself a member of the national team: Taymour's friend and captain Mohammed Marramzi. The dinner was at the family home. He and his dad sure love throwing dinners. Not that it was a cause for complaint; the food was good and everyone was happy to be there, if not for the food then at least for the video games.

At the dinner, Mohammed had mentioned that his parents were going abroad on a business trip the next morning and wouldn't be back for at least a week. Lots of clients to meet, lots of deals to be made. By now they would surely be abroad, leaving the house to Mohammed, his sister Maira, and the housekeepers. For a house that big, I bet it's pretty vacant right now. Ah, Maira, Mohammed's older sister, a nice and sweet girl, and really smart too. From the first time they met the young man had harbored... feelings for her. They knew each other, always talked whenever he was at the house, though he wasn't sure if he could honestly say they were friends at this point. They shared an interest in books and science and all that- alright, maybe it was a friendship, and they certainly respected each other and appreciated each other's presence, but whether he could take whatever this relationship was to the next stage was still very much questionable. That he was quite shy around girls didn't exactly help.

Now Taymour was still on the highway. The radio station had called it quits for the night and was playing their last song, with the dulcet tone of Lit's A. Jay Popoff announcing that "the car is in front yard and I'm sleeping with my clothes on." The night marched on and he still didn't feel like coming home, for reasons that his mind could not properly articulate, let alone his mouth. Maybe it was the paparazzi, maybe he was just too angry at life to even come home, maybe everything just seemed to have turned against him. But at least he still had the team to rely on; they would never betray him, sell him out, and Mohammed was no exception. If anything, he was the best and wisest of the bunch. So he made his decision: he would drive over to Mohammed's place, and maybe stay the night there. The fans and paparazzi were never really attracted to Mohammed; his was a safe place.

[Darkmania]

ÖRKENDREM PAPERS

Darkmania Deafeated The Groupleader.

Discustion article written by: Some guy whos name cant be prononced

Darkmania 3–2 Jeruselem was the result in witch darkmanian will never believe happen. A late `87 minute goal as done by Ërim that was beautiful and made the whole #TTTC campaign the darkmanian football federation into a bizarre reality. Jerselem, who has lead in the group since Matchday 4, played hard, but in the end, was beaten by Darkmania. While we are 4th on the group right now, there is still time before we MAY qualify for the first time.

"Well... I guess they took the shit that they got for that whole Independent Cup V thing where we were criticised for our play", one official at the DFF tells the papers. "So to see them trying to paint a new picture of themselves instead of the normal is quite interesting."

"So what do you expect from the next match?"

"I don't know. I cannot tell the future."

[Mareibat]

A Short Pre-Script To Mareibat - Part Three

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

A vicious power struggle ensued following on from Penpillick's death, with a number of factions attempting to seize control of fractured Mareibat. In the end, another Kester, Kester Cossack, took control and attempted to ease the hurt with the abolishment of many of Penpillick's harsher measures and finally accepting a lot of the food aid sent in by Apox and other nations to ease the problems of his starving populace.

His main initiatives during his time as Imperator were good in principle - better agricultural supplies for farmers, protected marine waters to try and reverse some of the effects of overfishing, a proposed monorail connecting Halholzer and Harmonica and health and education initiatives. However, while good in principle, these initiatives largely had negligible effects due to the lack of enforcement and supply line failures.

The coast guard was reduced to a more controllable size and the delivery of an old Apoxian patrol boat received to bolster their forces, which improved their coverage for a time. Additionally, the new smaller size freed up money to be spend on paving some roads and finally completing the dual carriageway between Halholzer and the International Airport in Euclid - though this project was something of a white elephant as car ownership in Mareibat was less than one percent at this time.

He also diplomatically brought many of the outer islands back under centralised control - solidifying the main island's agreement with Harmonica in 592, bringing the small islands of Scrag and Arbour back after they couldn't sustain government in 594 and 595 respectively. His biggest achievement though was reconciling Teol with the main island, achieved near the end of his reign in 599.

However, Kester Cossack was not a pleasant man. An alcoholic, and abusive, his family were often separated from him and he had bouts of violence again many of his advisors. Near the end, his sanity was also affected, and he had largely lost control of his advisors shortly after bringing Teol back into centralised control. He was left largely isolated and alone by the end, and died in bed in February 600. His son, Jhon Cossack, is set to take over his rule, having been based in Halholzer but outside the Halholzer Palace for a number of years.

The final pre-script, as now we reach the present day...

[Union of Socialist Alpine Republics]

The Alpine Union beat Soute

Byczyna, Soute - (NAP) The Alpine Union doesn't have a lot of success on the road against low ranked teams in these qualifications and it was the same again against Soute, which the Bisons barely beat 2-1. 8 000 Alpine fans travelled to the Esportivan nation to attend the game. Łucjan Ostrowski started in goal for Soute, the team didn't say if Teodor Krol is still injured or if it was a precautious move.

The Alpine Union attacked at the 28th minute when Slawomir Skrzeszewski passed to Pawel Wawrzynkiewicz who dribbled with the ball and made a cross to Amelia Zalwowska who shoots and scores! The Reprezentacja Alpejski is leading 1-0.

Soute answered back 3 minutes later when Walter Kedzierski passed to Iwan Paszek who made a short pass to Zawisza Krakowski. Krakowski passed to Janusz Stawski on the left who dribbled with the ball and made a header pass to Władysław Ząbek who heads the ball right into the net and the game is tied at 1-1. This is the score at the halftime.

The Bisons attacked at the 58th minute when Yannick Ksiezniakiewicz passed to Amelia Zalwowska who dribbled and made a short pass on the left to Zbigniew Zajaczkowski. Łucjan Ostrowski was certain Zajaczkowski was going to shoot but Zajaczkowski made a cross to a wide open Jean-François Kleineheismann who had an almost empty net in front of him. Kleineheismann shoots over the cross bar and the game is still tied at 1-1.

At the 71st minute, Yannick Ksiezniakiewicz passed to Sarah Schroffenegger who dribbled and passed to Amelia Zalwowska just outside the penalty area who'se pushed on the ground by Damian Wyrzykowski. The Alpine Union gets a free kick. Sarah Schroffenegger takes the free kick. She kicks the ball and it goes directly into the net and the Bisons are leading 2-1. This is the final score and the Alpine Union barely beat Soute on the road 2-1.

After moving down from 2nd to 6th in the standings following matchday 3's loss against Kita-Hinode, The Alpine Union moved back up and are now in 4th place with 10 points in 5 games. Sargossa is still 1st with 5 wins in 5 games. Siovanija and Teusland and Kita-Hinode are both tied in 2nd place with 12 points in 5 games. Main Nation Ministry isn't far behind the Alpine Union with 9 points in 5 games. Now that Soute fell outside of the top 5, the top 5 is shaping up. Only two of them will make the World Cup.

Alpine's offense is really underperforming so far, having scored 9 goals in 5 games. Talking about the lack of goals, coach Wlodzimierz Jastrzebowski pointed fingers at Jean-François Kleineheismann who has no goal in 5 games so far and missed an almost certain goal tonight against Soute. Coach Jastrzebowski said Jean-François Kleineheismann will not play on matchday 6 against Altai Almas. Coach Jastrzebowski refused to say whether Kevin O'Maoilsheachlainn or 21 years old sensation Fryderyka Cwierczakiewiczowa will replace him. Fryderyka Cwierczakiewiczowa was the rookie of the year in the Alpine Premiership and she recieved an offer to appear on the cover of Free Republics' Sporting World magazine but she refused saying Sporting World is sexist and she hates capitalist nations.

BOXSCORE

28th minute: Amelia Zalwowska assisted by Pawel Wawrzynkiewicz
31st minute: Władysław Ząbek assisted by Janusz Stawski
71st minute: Sarah Schroffenegger (free kick)

YELLOW CARDS

Soute: Apolinary Ząbek
Alpine Union: Krzysztof Januszkiewicz

RED CARDS

Soute: None
Alpine Union: None

[Darmen]

President of the Darmeni Football Association Gene Turko stumbled through the hallways of the Presidential Mansion. He had just returned to the country from attending the World Cup draw in Banija. The effects of the alcohol he had consumed while there were only just beginning to wear off. With his right hand he braced himself against the wall, while in his left he held a pamphlet. While he had been officially invited to the Presidential Mansion to discuss the World Cup draw and preparations for the All Greens' campaign with the President of the Republic, unofficially however it was the pamphlet that he was most eager to share.

Turko reached the door to the President's office. As Turko raised his hand to knock, the door spinning in his mind as he did so, the door opened, revealing a rather tall man. "Greetings Mr. Turko," said the man, shaking Turko's hand, "I'm Mitchell Hellewege, Chief of Staff to the President..."

"I know who you are," grumbled Turko, wrestling his hand away from Hellewege's grasp.

"Ah, well, in your present state of physical and mental apparel I wasn't sure you'd remember me. In any case, the President will be in at any moment to meet with you. Please, have a seat."

Turko pushed past Hellewege and slumped into a chair, not realizing that he was sitting behind the desk, rather than in front of it. President of the Republic Tor Tong Lee noticed this as he entered the room and laughed. "You're in my chair... Gene," said Lee, placing extra emphasis on his friend's name.

Turko hiccoughed, and ignoring Lee's statement, began his report, "The All Greens have been drawn into Group 17. We'll be facing Taeshan, Baker Park, Coldfield and Freeport, plus some other minnows. Qualification appears simple and should be achieved with ease. But..." Turko burped.

"But?" asked Lee.

"What I really wanted to show you was this." Turko handed Lee the pamphlet.

Lee looked it over, "The Echani Path to Prosperity..." he read aloud, the pause between each of the words getting longer as he read on. "Bloody hell. MR. HELLEWEGE!" yelled Lee, causing Turko to grimace in pain as he raised his hands to cover his ears.

Hellewege burst into the room, "Yes, sir?"

"Get O'Donahaue in here as soon as possible," said Lee, a look of shock clearly evident on his face. "If the left sees this, they'll have a field day."

---

Executive Cabinet split on Darmeni acceptance of Eshani aid
Coalition government tested early

With the 2041 elections having concluded only five months ago in May, the Coalition government between the center-right Movement for a New Darmen and the leftist United Left are now facing the biggest challenge to their continued cooperation. Sources close to the Executive Cabinet have indicated that the cabinet is split, along partisan lines, on whether to accept financial and infrastructural aid from the Atlantian Oceanian nation of Eshan via that nation's Path to Prosperity program. The program, which has strikingly similar aims to a proposal made by the United Left's Yoram Nash during the election campaign, would provide much needed funding and technical expertise to conduct infrastructure updates. Those most familiar with the program indicate that Darmen is just one of the many nations who have been invited to join the program, with some claiming that hundreds of other nations have received the same offer.

Sources indicate that members of the Executive Cabinet affiliated with the United Left including: Nash (Vice President), Dean Alamilla (Finance), Philomena McNeal (Labor) and Isak Martínez (Infrastructure) are keen to accept the aid from Eshan and begin their public works program, something which they claim would reduce Darmen's unemployment massively from its current 36.62% rate.

With United Left holding many of the economic portfolios in the Executive Cabinet, President Tor Tong Lee and his fellow MND members in the cabinet must tread carefully during any debates. Lee has always been skeptical of allowing foreign influences a foothold in Darmen and will likely claim that accepting any aid from Eshan will come with strings attached and a lessening of Darmeni sovereignty. Former Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, Joshua Rademacher, now a backbencher after being removed from his post due to his promotion of Darmeni membership in the Common Rushmori Community, will likely also have a loud and public say in the matter. Rademacher, leader of the Liberal Conservative Party, has voiced doubts over continued membership in the Movement for a New Darmen. Reports regarding that party have begun surfacing that the Liberal Conservatives may merge with the National Civil Liberal Democratic Union to refound the Liberal Party. In any case, Rademacher will likely view any preference of Eshani aid over that of a fellow Rushmori nation as being an even worse political decision than remaining outside the CRC.

With three and a half years remaining before the next elections, the coalition government must come to a clear consensus on whether to accept the Eshani aid, and it must do so quickly if it wishes to avoid tearing itself apart. Pushing forward with a large scale public works program is necessary regardless, and a decision on whether to join the Common Rushmori Community would also go a long way to ensure that both voters and politicians have a clear view of what the future holds for Darmen.

[Beepee]

Everything's Better with Cocoabo?

Beepee 0 - 1 Turori

Scorer
Meldi'ita Mungwaii ('38)

Turori showed their class in a one sided affair. Some resolute defending and a heroic performance from Beepeean goalkeeper Francois Shep, somehow managed to keep the scoreline respectable for Beepee.

A capacity crowd at Norfolk Pinewoods Stadium braved overcast and blustery conditions to watch group favourites Turori. Of delight for the Beepeean fans was the special Cocoabo section which had been installed in the stadium allowing Turori's national animals to be present at the game. Sponsored by the Cocoabo Preservation Society, Beepeeps dug deep and raised almost 450,000 shills to help protect this endangered species.

The sole goal of the match was scored in thirt-eigth minute by
Meldi'ita Mungwaii with a beautifully powerful shot from the edge of the box which roared into the top right hand corner of the net, and must be considered one of the best strikes seen by Beepee this tournament.
Despite almost constant pressure and almost 30 shots on goal throughout the match Turori couldn't find another goal.

The result sees Turori pull away from the chasing pack and sees Beepee tumble down the table. It seems unlikely that any team will now be able to catch Turori, who must surely have their tickets booked to the finals already.

[South Covello]

David Hale's Speech

David Hale assembled before a large crowd on the Lawn of the Presidential Mansion, which was currently unoccupied. Although as Acting President, Darian Clarke was eligible to live there, he chose to maintain his residences on Legislature Hill and in his home district. Here is the speech.

"Good afternoon, everybody! Wow. What a crazy past 36 hours. Hope you all rested easy last night, knowing John Green was gone and would not be getting us into eight more wars. But now, we all must pick a new President, and I am throwing my hat into the ring and filing a Declaration of Candidacy with the SCEC."

At this last line, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause and cheers, chanting "DAVID HALE" and "FREEDOM THROUGH PEACE" over and over for five minutes before finally Hale held up his hand to quiet them and continued.

"Although I am but 22 years old, and would be one of the youngest democratically elected leaders in the history of the Multiverse, I feel I am ready for the job. And I owe it all to you guys! You were the ones who supported the freedom through peace movement, you were the ones who recognized that we must get our own house in order, and you are the ones who will lead us into the future!

"And as I said, we must get our own house in order. I will be supporting a multi-pronged approach to get us there. First, we must establish welfare programs to make sure no citizen ever goes hungry. These will be need-based programs which citizens can spend on food, and they won't have to eat crap cheap food like in some nations. Nobody should have to submit on nothing but canned spam. But people should ultimately be able to find work if they are able - there are millions of people here who are willing and able to work, but can't find jobs. Therefore, if elected, we will establish a government jobs program, providing paid work to anyone willing and able, and helping build the nation at the same time. This in turn will create more jobs in the private sector, help boost the economy, and benefit everyone in our nation. Additionally, we will provide a fully funded healthcare program for all South Covellans, so nobody ever dies because they can't get medical care. Not only that, this will benefit the entire populace because a healthy populace is a happy and free populace. Finally, we will subsidize education on a need basis through the college level, in addition to fully free education through high school that we already provide, to ensure a knowledgeable, educated populace who can build up our nation even more. We have peace, we have freedom, and soon we will make our nation even stronger, not through war, but through peace and freedom. Together, we will ride our freedom into the future!"

---

However, David Hale was not the only one to file a declaration of candidacy. 91-year old Clara Santos, who came out against the Green Doctrine from the start, has filed as well. In a written statement, she said she shared Hale's views for the most part, but felt the people deserved someone more experienced and pragmatic than him. Louise Bennett, who lost to Green two years ago, has filed as well, agreeing for the need for peace, but disagreeing with many of Hale's more progressive policies. She did, however, agree with him on the need for single-payer healthcare, agreeing as a doctor that the current model was broken.

There were some more quixotic candidates to file on the first day of filing as well. Moses The Pant Ferret (yes, that is his real name), who wears a ferret suit for every public appearance, has announced a platform of giving every South Covellan two free pet ferrets, free healthcare for all ferrets (but apparently not humans), changing the national anthem to the Ferret National Anthem and replacing the flag with a picture of a ferret in a birthday hat. Meanwhile, Derek Lough has proposed a platform to make marijauana use mandatory for all citizens, requiring them to smoke at least three joints every day. His campaign slogan is "Get High, Vote Lough." And an actual clown has filed as well. Richard Heimlich, better known by his stage name Clowney the Clown, has stated "John Green was a clown. But he wasn't a funny one. I am a funny clown, which means I will make a better President." He then proceeded to spray seltzer on the reporting corps who was interviewing him and smash a pie in one reporter's face.

34 other candidates have filed so far as well, with many more expected to file in the coming 29 days. The election has been set for a date ten weeks hence (40 days after the filing deadline), with a runoff to occur three weeks later if necessary. A snap poll shows David Hale in the lead with 28 percent, Clara Santos in second with 23 percent, Louise Bennett in third with 11 percent, "Other" at 14 percent, and the remainder of the populace undecided. We've got a long way to go before the election, and undoubtedly many more candidates will enter the race. Some will be serious, some will be quixotic, and some will be somewhere in the middle. It's a long and winding road to choose our next President, and we'll be with you every step of the way.

[Eshan]

THE ECHANI REPUBLIC
Executive Office of the President
 Statement in Response to Comments of President John Green of South Covello

The Echani Republic is dismayed at the highly aggressive statements issued by South Covellan President John Green. As Eshan played a lead role in toppling the previous government of the nation formerly known as Gregoryisgodistan and bringing freedom and democracy to the Covellan people, we hold the nation of South Covello in high regard. Our key role in the liberation of South Covello was not without loss of Echani life, and President Green’s words are disrespectful in the gravest way possible to those of ours who fell on foreign shores, and it pains the Republic to hear such language used by an allied nation. Inflammatory statements describing President Revan as a tyrant are also harmful to relations between our two nations; President Revan has come to the position of President of the Echani Republic through democratic elections and holds extremely high approval ratings across Eshan and all the territories that constitute the Republic.

With regards to President Green attempting to declare war on the Echani Republic, we issue a warning. It is accurate to say that any attempt to attack the Republic would be met with overwhelming retaliation. The Republic holds an extremely overwhelming military advantage and any conflict would be a short one; that is not something President Revan wants to see happen, and he is relieved to see the widespread opposition to President Green’s words and hopes President Green, as a democratically elected leader like President Revan, heeds the voices of his people.

There is much growth to be done in South Covello and it would be wise to focus on such matters before attempting to take on a superpower.

---

Revan sighed to himself. It was a major annoyance to have to deal with the Covellans when they were being like this, nothing like having some country want to declare war. Of course, Revan wasn’t particularly worried about John Green or the South Covellans actually declaring war, for starters it was quite evident that the Covellans’ legislative body stood strong in opposition to President Green’s half-baked ideas. Practically speaking Revan wasn’t concerned either for a war between South Covello and the Echani Republic would be a very short-lived one due to the incredible advantage the Echani held. The strongly worded statement the Echani government had released should be more than enough to settle things down, or at least Revan hoped so because this was a situation he had little interest in entertaining or patience to deal with. Perhaps if circumstances were slightly different he would jump on the opportunity to wind up President Green so he had no choice but to declare war, thus opening up the possibility of Eshan counter-attacking and annexing South Covello, but he had much bigger things on his plate, and any negative press could only serve to harm the ambitious project that he was able to implement.

Revan had long dreamed of expanding the nation of Eshan into one of the most powerful nations in the world, with a presence in every major region, a military that could take on any fighting force, a role as a global superpower. That was just the first step, creating an Empire was easy, but the more difficult task came with the next phase of his plan, which revolved around solidifying Eshan’s position as a major player in global trade through building an interconnected trade network between both his imagined Echani territories and between the different global regions themselves. This would serve the dual purpose of increasing Eshan’s access to the world and new economies, while investments in foreign infrastructure and becoming essential to the growth of foreign markets would solidify the Echani Republic’s position as invaluable to global trade. The Echani superpower, that had long been Revan’s dream for his nation, and it was well on its way to becoming reality.

Phase one of the plan, acquiring territories across the world had been achieved, though certainly still undergoing as the constant need to expand and acquire further territory was always present in Echani foreign policy. Lucarius, Emorris, Vriupai, South Yerfilag, Ovskovyk, Parodys, and Rossaline now all flew the Echani flag, and the Republic of Eshan stretched across the major regions of the world. He could disappear, leave the Presidency of Eshan behind, never been seen again, and his place as one of the greatest and most influential statesmen in Echani history was long ago sealed, his legacy of territory acquisition and Echani expansion would forever be spoken of in reverent tones. But Revan wasn’t done yet, there was still much to accomplish. Becoming one of the strongest nations in the world was nothing more than the start of his plan for Echani supremacy; the next phase was underway.

The key to cementing Eshan’s position as a global superpower always lay in becoming an invaluable part of global trade, investing in nations that had been left behind and had potential, all of this was key to increasing the strength, political power, and reach of the Echani Republic. And thus, the Echani Path to Prosperity was created. Revan had devised the Path to Prosperity with the aim of helping to develop nations in need of modern infrastructure and essential economic development, greatly assisting nations in need of modernization while simultaneously creating a network of trade routes to spread goods, ideas, and culture all across the sporting multiverse. To that end, he had directed the Echani government to offer trillions in support, mostly in the form of loans and highly qualified advisors and workers, to eligible nations that that apply to the program and have been identified by the Echani government as prime candidates for investment, even if those nations that may be considered unreliable by traditional financial institutions. It was brilliant. Spend some money to help build up countries to levels they could only dream about, while in return Eshan received the loyalty and political backing of said nation, while also receiving prime access to underdeveloped markets and creating a trade network of Echani friendly nations across the regions of the world. Substantial investment was already underway in the territories Eshan had acquired under Revan’s leadership, and now there were other nations chomping at the bit to receive some of that sweet, sweet Echani funding.

And now Revan prepared for a meeting with such a nation. He looked down at his desk where there was a profile of that nation open in front of him, the Republic of Zeleny Hrebenia. They had been in a frozen conflict and were looking to repair and modernize their infrastructure and take solid steps towards emerging onto the global stage. To that end Zeleny Hrebenia had applied to the Echani Path to Prosperity initiative with two projects, major road improvements and some airport modifications. With regards to the roads, it seemed the Republic of Zeleny Hrebenia was looking to reconstruct and modernize a vital highway system from Udolie Križovatka to Tošrava with some minor scale infrastructure repair of other roads; this would be very straightforward for the excellent Echani construction crews. The airport project was similarly easy, some new customs infrastructure, renovation of existing terminals, and the creation of a tram line leading from the city to the airport. These are relatively easy and inexpensive investments for the Echani Republic and the outcome of having a political ally made it extremely worth it.

An aide knocked on Revan’s door and entered, “They’re ready for you sir.”

Revan got up and straightened his suit as he peered over the folder one last time to see who he was meeting with. It seemed President Ludovit Maloš, Minister of Foreign Affairs Jana Foruškova, and Minister of Transport Rihard Valudžek would all be in attendance for the Republic of Zeleny Hrebenia, while the Echani delegation consisted of Minister of Foreign Affairs Ravel Pistorias, Antonio Mulcati and Quillen Kroger as the heads of the Echani Path to Prosperity, Revan’s closest advisor Peter Wiggin, and Revan himself.

The meeting was intended to be straightforward, nothing more than an official enumeration of the Republic of Zeleny Hrebenia’s needs, an official acceptance of Zeleny Hrebenia into the Echani Path to Prosperity, and a bunch of smiles and handshakes in front of the cameras. Easy, easy, easy. Nothing more than a formality and then the real work began. And then after this, he had to sit down with Antonio and Quillen and speak about the work needing to be done in another nation, one of Eshan’s closest allies, the Atlantian Oceanian nation of Banija, along with many other nations, with reports emerging that the nation of Darmen was keen on the idea, who wished to receive the great benefits of the Path to Prosperity program.

Revan took a breath and opened the door to begin the meeting.

---

Rosaria Daily Herald | Sporting Section
World Cup Off To A Flyer

And now it’s time for the World Cup Breakdown! Things have been going pretty fantastically for the Echani national team as we sit in second with 12 points from four games. So far our only loss came in a 1-nil heartbreaker against footballing titan Nephara, but a series of 7-2, 3-0, 5-2, and 2-nil victories have proved that both the loss and non-scoring game against Nephara was nothing more than a temporary hiccup; outscoring our next four opponents 17-4 was a pretty strong indication of that.

The Echani midfield has truly been spectacular, with Jean-Pol Roland and Artemis Montanari looking absolutely world class. The two have formed a spectacular pair, with Roland controlling the tempo and splitting defenses with his perfect passing while Montanari brings all-around excellence as he charges from box to box. The duo absolutely annihilated whatever nation it was we defeated 7-2, controlling the center of the park and creating attacking avenues from every possible angle. With the calm, cool, and collected Samper Markovic behind them always offering a safe option to recycle possession and shutting down other team’s attacks with his great positioning and anticipation.

Marco van Ciavatinni has been, of course, absolutely spectacular in every facet of play, simply superb. It truly is a shame to see our greatest ever player approach the twilight of his career. He still glides across the field, embarasses defenses with his mesmerizing dribbling, precise passing, and ridiculous finishing ability. His connection with Anthony Baudelio and Magnum Cerelius as our attacking trident is magnificent to watch; the trio change positions, make clever runs, and terrorize the defense with the wide variety of skills they bring. Baudelio is a monster, bringing power, pace, and a magic finishing ability while Magnum Cerelius is a turbo-footed trickster who can bang em in from a distance, while Marco is……well……Marco van Ciavatinni. As sad as it is seeing the brilliant career of MvC start to reach its last stretch, it would seem that the next great Echani player has arrived.

Fresh off the back of a scintillating debut season with Gracemeria in which he scored 16 times and assisted a further nine, Villar Dakari has entered the history books as the youngest player to make his debut for the Echani national team as a second half substitute in the opening match against Nephara, and as the team’s youngest goalscorer with his goal in the 61st minute in the 7-2 drumming of Busoga Islands. While he’s been limited to short lived cameo appearances off the bench, the young Dakari has made the most of his time, putting in a string of impressive performances with his sheer athleticism and frankly ridiculous acceleration and pace proving to be defenders worst nightmare as he comes in fresh legged in the closing period of the game. What has been more impressive than the lads incredible physical gifts has been his total fearlessness in attacking some of the best defenders in the world, driving at them with his speed and excellent close ball control before destroying them with a brutal change of direction and speed, with elaborate feints and drilling moves, or just blowing past them with his stupid speed. There is absolutely no way that he remains with Gracemeria past this World Cup, his level of talent is stupefying for someone his age and the fact that he’s only going to improve is actually frightening.

Things are looking good for the Echani team, we really should qualify and failure to do so from this group would be a huge mark against Alexio del Nieran in his role as national team manager. Eshan has been underperforming for years and it is high time for the white-reds to prove their worth on the international stage by making it to the elimination matches of the World Cup, anything less than that would be a failure. Fortunately, we’ve got the team to make that run. Our defense, certainly our weakest point, has been solid, though lacking a little bit in keeping their concentration, while the midfield has been simply sensational. The attacking trident of Cerelius, Baudelio, and van Ciavatinni has been spectacular and terrorized every defense they’ve gone up against. The pieces are there, the players are hungry, and the fans are desperate. This is the time for the Echani national team to step up and prove their worth; their second place finish in the AOCAF Cup is nothing but a long ago memory at this point, and it’s high time to bring the good days back to Eshan.

[South Toronto]

Chapter 3: Before The Storm

OOC: Go look at the previous chapter to know what's happening in this RP here.

304 million people were at Victory Road in the match against Pink Floyd FC, but the main part of the outing for most people un-interested in football was the new president of South Toronto, Ellen Yakniok, being made the official president of South Toronto. Ellen was fashionably late and walked into the stadium surrounded by armed soldiers from all directions, protecting her in case an assassination attempt happens. Everybody in the stadium who could stand up rose out of their seats and saluted Ellen Yakniok. The football team of South Toronto were the first to congratulate Ellen, and each squad member and staff were dressed in the smartest suits money can buy in South Toronto. One by one, she shook each squad member and staff's hands. Jamal and Bryan were at the back of the line, and they discussed the odd things happening recently.

"Bro, how'd they make this accommodate the whole of South Toronto in less than two hours? Something's fishy here... And I have a feeling we're not playing-" murmured Bryan, before he was abruptly interrupted. A gun was fired, and a woman's brains splattered over those close to her, and onto Bryan's

"That inferior being deserved to die, how dare you speak ill of the Eliti Lordermi IV? Elite Leader, for you heathens who don't speak Exzapan. Anyone who talks ill of the president will be executed right here, we are not playing any games!" shouted the soldier, who picked up the body with ease and tossed it down behind the goal. Bryan, in disgust, wiped the blood off his face with a handkerchief, and he looked around to see everybody's reaction. Nobody cared, it was as if they'd seen hundreds of executions, and were completely emotionless.

"What the actual fuck, how can you just kill someone like that with no remorse whatsoever? I have no idea why my guy Trey Deyvon Woods created his own demise, this bitch Ellen also corrupted as hell and plus she wants to establish communism," said Bryan.

"You out here acting like you've never seen an execution. Hell, as if you've never seen any corruption. We've always had an almost complete disregard for civil-rights, ever since way back when Prombase was the president, when Tobi Obirito took over and when Trey Deyvon Woods took over. And it'll stay that way until we, the people, have had enough and we rebel against the corrupted Kovvamakos. That's the way life goes around here, and there's little we can do about it," said Jamal.

"Let's just get this shit over with, I can't be arsed to play, what I found out is so fucking important," mumbled Bryan, as a soldier glanced at him menacingly and then looked away.

Sometime later, Ellen finally came round to Jamal. He then just remembered that he needs to shake her hand and salute her. He was curious to see what would happen if he followed the little girl's orders.

"Oh, Jamal Seruku! Were you not the player who kicked the ball against the crossbar and it rebounded off your face, rendering you unconscious?" asked Ellen with a huge grin on her face.

"Yes, Eliti Lordermi IV, I am the one you speak of. May I honour you, your greatness, by perhaps shaking your hand and saluting you?"

"Yes you may, and if you do play, ensure that we secure the victory for South Toronto," answered Ellen Yakniok as Jamal shook her hand and saluted her. Jamal was the last person in line, and the soldiers supposed to be guarding were on the other side of the platform, so they sprinted towards her. Once they all surrounded her again, she was escorted to a tremendous, intricate chair that she then turned towards the citizens. Pink Floyd FC fan's started coming in the tens-of-thousands, as the other end of the pitch was Victory Road's normal stadium.

"Players! To the dressing rooms!" shouted Ellayandzer, as the squad ad staff ran down the platform and into the dugout to go get changed. Once everyone was settled down, Ellayandzer spoke.

"I'm not sure about this game, and quite frankly, their tactics are unknown but all I know is that they're going to sing till we are fucking deaf. Timeaus, you're starting in goal, I wanna see what you can do. Devante, Jay-Jay, Javonte, and Keptezos are in the defence. Germanpreet, Gliscorga, and Makanjoko are in midfield, and Kenza, Artjorm, and Ni Ling Son are the front three. Sorry, Bryan and Jamal, we can't pick you guys for this and the next game up against Torisakia, I need to rotate the squad so I can work out the best defensive pairs for the squad. I already know you two are a good pair, so you guys can go visit your families and get rested, but not too rested. But you have to change into your kit to sing your national anthem, so just do that then you're free," said Ellayandzer. He walked out of the dressing room, looking a little bit sick. Nobody spoke, and after everyone was finished changing, they all walked out and onto the pitch, where they all lined up for the national anthem.

"Please rise for the South Toronton national anthem. All of you!"

The familiar trumpets and drums were heard throughout the stadium, and millions of South Torontons were smiling, they haven't heard the Nocidoal Oanthekm in ages. The booming sound of the drums resonated across the entire stadium.
Jamal licked his lips. This was going to be a loud one

"Do you hear the sound of the soldiers?
They have come to take our freedom,
Arm yourselves to defend our land,
From the evil that lurks within it,
Let the oppressors’ blood flow through Lordano,
Let the two saints guide us through our rebellion,
Though at last, we have fulfilled their request,

Over the Craganos Mountains,
The phoenixes soar through South Toronto,
But the grandest of them all,
Althoquin had been awakened,
The cries of your wives, your children and your companions,
Echo throughout the land,
Bring us the heads of our so-called leaders,
Who murdered all those who were innocent,
Slit the throats of all the traitors,
Who aid in the people’s suffering

Fight for your glorious land,
March through Aredia,
Happy and proud,

That at last our Glorious South Toronto,
Shall reign throughout the ages!"

boomed the 304 million South Torontons.

Bryan and Jamal sneaked out of the stadium, and Bryan looked at Jamal, and then looked around for anybody else before telling him.

"Alright, what I'm about to tell you may sound stupid, but don't laugh. When I say what I say, I am being 100% honest," said Bryan.

"What then? Just tell me, it can't be that bad".

"Fine. I can time travel. In the past and the future".

"C'mon, tell me the real news".

"Okay then, don't believe me, just hold my hand and I'll prove it to you. No homo okay?"

"Bro I thought we don't say that anymore... Just don't say it. Not cool for the LGBT community".

"The fuck? What do you know about the LGBT+ community? See, I even put the plus at the end. Who's being disrespectful now bitch?"

"Shut the fuck up and show me this shit. It's literally scientifically impossible," said Jamal. Bryan reached for Jamal's hand, and suddenly they were teleported. Jamal screamed as they travelled into a long tunnel with dark, gloomy clouds all over the tunnel. Jamal and Bryan were paralysed and were flung around in the tunnel carrying them. They lurched forward into a taxi when they had finished time travelling.

"Bro... What the fuck?" exclaimed Jamal. He saw a woman walking by and he asked: "Excuse me, ma'am, do you happen to know South Toronto's results for football?". The woman scanned both Bryan and Jamal to see if they were dangerous and she then finally replied. "3-3 draw against Pink Floyd FC, Tomanke, Keptezos, and Kenza North scored. And a 3-2 win over Torisakia, Jozy and Quinque Dembele scored, and Germanpreet Sachadev scored another banger. Good day to ya'll," said the woman as she walked past.

"Oh my gosh, so we are two days in the future. So are there any versions of ourselves?"

"No, everybody thinks we've gone with our families," said Bryan. Jamal was about to speak until a shower of rain started. Then it became a heavy downpour, and the wind was terrifyingly strong.

"Get inside man!" shouted Jamal as he pulled Bryan into the coffee shop.

"Before the storm... we were free. Now we are gonna be human guinea pigs for this corrupted government, said the teenage girl. They both turned around to look at her, and Vivian Celeste was starting right back at them.

"What do you mean?" asked Bryan.

Vivian looked around at the frightened people in the shop.

"Come with me to the back, I'll tell you all you need to know. The Storm has come, and now we're all fucked..." said Vivian as she stormed to the back, with Jamal and Bryan following her.

[Cassadaigua]

(Prior To The Match)

Goalkeeper Kristen Speller catches up with captain Hannah Ranucci,

“Hannah, I have to ask you something pretty serious. I feel bad for having to bring this up, but its about our coach. She’s being crazy.” Speller started.

“Yeah, don’t we all know. How the hell does she not play you in the last game?” Ranucci replied.

“I really don’t know, but I can deal with it if she wanted to just give Kelsey a chance, but she thinks I rigged that play with Donegal. As if I meant to do it, and I am really pissed about her questioning my integrity like that.” Speller proclaimed.

Hannah grinned, “You know, she knows that I hate the fact that there are men starting on this team. I don’t hate that they are on the team, I just hate that they are starting. There are a bunch of us that think this way. (Coach) Sweeney thinks that it is so wonderful and amazing that they won the Baker Park Open Cup, that they were accelerated over other female players who should be in that role. The other Hannah, Hannah Shanley is actually quite pissed about Carlos Martinez taking away her job. What do you think about all that?” she asked.

“Well, I know it was a man that f**ked up, and I have to hear coach insinuate that I wanted an own goal scored on me. What kind of goalie wants that?” Speller replied.

“The Carlos Martinez hit him in the groin play by Lupe wasn’t an accident. It was a deliberate setup. Coach kinda knows that. Because of that, she probably thinks you wanted to make Donegal look bad. Never mind the fact that he’s an inexperienced 21-year old defender playing on the big stage for the first ever time. He needs to follow that play.” Ranucci answered.

“Yeah, I kind of thought that was deliberate. Carlos is a little better then Donegal, but is not as good as Hannah Shanley, and is not as good as Ashley Crocker. You know, you’re right, we’ve left people off of this team just because of that small tournament.” Speller replied.

“When Martinez is the only player back against a rush, do you feel confident in him as you would Lupe or Curran?” Ranucci asked.

“Heck, no. Jessica Curran is a f**king rock. So is Chelsea Blake, and Lupe is learning. Carlos, I want it to work, I guess. You know why did he get Brittany’s number 3? Shouldn’t Shanley have had dibs on the better number after Brittany Byers retired?” Speller asked.

“Good f**king point, Kristen.” Ranucci replied.

“Anyway, if this keeps up, I am going to go public with her accusations.” Speller replied.

“Nah, keep it out of the media. Nothing good comes out of it. At least coach gives good reasons about why we are supposedly missing games.”

(After match)

Back To Normal,
by Chelsea Dufresne, Concord Heights Times

For the first time since the match against Brenecia on opening day, the anticipated starting eleven were in full force as the Dagans traveled a long way, to the planet of Sonnel, to battle Oscioru. Yes, there is more then just Drawkland on Sonnel, and that is where our team was playing for this match. The Fillies did not show any problems from the long flight and the other necessary measures needed to take on their opponent, and needed just seven minutes to score their first goal of the match, picked up by Caitlyn Mayer, just her second of the tournament. The pink and black took over the match from that point, dominating possession, and if it were not for some excellent goalkeeping from Carlos Ramires, this match could have gotten very ugly for the home side, and pretty for us, very soon. Ramires, though, kept his team in it, and if they went into the intermission down only a goal that would have seen that as a moral victory. However, they would not, as in the 41st minute, the Dagans got another one by, this from Sierra Mattson, her third, to make it 2-0.

In the second half, Hannah Ranucci remained hot, picking up her fifth goal of qualifying, all five coming in the last three games, at exactly the hour mark, to make it 3-0. Unfortunately, Carlos Martinez misfired on a clearing attempt, and instead that clear seemed more of a pass to Xavi Comtois, who found August Martí, and he knew what to do with it, scoring in the 71st minute. Goalkeeper Kristen Speller was visibly very upset after the goal, and did not hide her emotions after the game in a post game comment. “I could have two clean sheets now if certain defenders were on top of their game.” Kristen is alluding to the error of Matthew Donegal earlier, and now this one by Carlos Martinez in this game. Coach Stephanie Sweeney came to the aid of the maligned defender saying, “He’s been through a lot during qualifying.”

[The Macabees]

LOLILTA, CH. 6

Henrrek Visto'ifa called Bernie early the following morning. Waking up to the phone's ringing, his head felt as if someone had banged a gong inside of it, tremors of pain ricocheting through the tissues of his brain. "Hello?" he asked, meekly less his head explode. He sat up at the side of his bed but laid back down when the world seemed to turn on itself.

"Meet me at the Katepal Morén in 30 minutes," said a deep voice on the other end.

Rubbing his right eye, Bernie replied, "30 minutes? That's 45 minutes away from here."

There was a pause. Finally, "I suggest you run, then."

"Run?" he asked. "Who the hell is this?"

"Henrrek Visto'ifa." Click.

Bernie didn't even shower. He put on fresh underwear, a wrinkled t-shirt by the foot of his bed, and the same pair of jeans from last night. There was a makeup stain one of the legs but he paid it no mind. Calling for a ride pickup, a small self-driving car picked him up at the foot of the staircase that led up to the lobby of his apartment building. He would have usually preferred to walk the distance, but there was no time for walking today.

The Katepal Morén towered over much of the surrounding buildings, although these were often no less ornamentally decorated. But the katepal's spires rose for hundreds of meter into the sky, each surface intricately carved in complicated styles. Small marble statues stood in intervals and different heights, showcasing the city's wealth in immaculate splendor. Below, the façade rose high too, although not quite as high. It met at a single point, sloping down to either side, until reaching two parallel walls that came down to the tiled stylobate the temple sat on. Before it was a bronze cast bowl in which danced a flame that never extinguished. Katepal Morén was an ancient name, although this temple — much like the city itself — was no older than three decades old. To most, it was known as the Temple of the Willed.

Once he arrived and stepped out of the car, he took a seat at the bottom of the marble steps that led up to the height of the temple's entrance. There he waited for what seemed like twenty minutes, surely enough time for him to have showered. He still smelled of the dried up alcohol that stained his pants along with the evidence of the woman he had most likely slept with (although, he did not remember for certain).

It seemed as if as soon as he put his head down, a shadow came over him and when he looked back up there was a giant man looming above. Almost seven feet tall, and perhaps half as wide as that, this man seemed built more of muscle than anything else. His head was completely bald, a scar running from his temple all the way to the back of his head, covering the curve of the skull. He looked mean and unfriendly, and for a second Bernie thought he was perhaps about to die. By the time it struck him, the man had spoken. "Bernie Va'anderbor, come with me."

The man was walking away before Bernie even moved, but move Bernie finally did. He trotted to catch up with who he guessed was Henrrek Visto'ifa. The latter's legs seemed longer than Bernie's entire body and he walked fast enough to make it seem true. Bernie wondered how the man moved so quickly with all that mass. He looked like an ex-soldier; one of those special forces soldiers from the movies, to be exact.

"Where are we going?" asked Bernie, his voice trying to keep up with Henrrek.

The big man said nothing. They walked to a black vehicle that had been waiting by the curb and one of the doors opened as they approached. The windows were tinted dark black, even the front windshield, so Bernie could not see a thing inside of it. Henrrek stopped by the open door, turned, and gestured to the open seat inside. "Get in," he said.

He hesitated at first, but then decided it was best to do what Henrrek said. This was Lakén's contact, right? What could go wrong?

As soon as the big man was inside as well, the car lurched forward. A dark piece of glass divided the back seats from the front, although if the glass were to come down Bernie was certain there would be no physical driver sitting there. Traffic was at its peak, so they moved slowly. "Lakén tells me you've got a problem," said Henrrek. His accent placed him from the west, perhaps Beda Fromm. "A woman, he says. He did not know her name. Lakén only met her once, I hear. He says that she is extorting him for money. A problem of your creation, is this right?"

Bernie gulped. He said, "That's right...uh, sir. I slept with her."

"Does she have pictures?" Henrrek interrupted.

He shook his head. "Not that I know, although with her anything is possible."

"Hm," said Henrrek. "So you know her well?"

He shook his head. "No, not at all. Just slept with her. Obviously, she's crazy and when I went to go see her—"

"How many times have you seen her?" the big man interjected.

"Just that once," answered Bernie, quickly. "Just that once, it was at Lelun Fatal. That new coffee joint by the university. It was a little longer than a week since the night she stormed our table at the nightclub, which was the night after I hit it. She was angry about the incident at the club and when I told her to piss off she struck me with the threat to blackmail Lakén. This is crazy, man. Just f'ing crazy."

Henrrek snorted. "You do not know crazy, my friend."

"What are we going to do about this?" he asked. "She seemed prepared for the worst when I met her."

"She has not yet the worst," was all the big man said in response to that.

They drove in silence for a little while longer. The vehicle slowly weaved its way through traffic, taking a right here and a left there. With each passing moment of silence the ride seemed to get longer and longer. Bernie was about to ask where they were going when the car came to a stop and the left-hand door, the opposite one they had come in through, opened automatically. The street was there and cars were buzzing back and forth. Henrrek gave Bernie a look that meant 'leave,' so that is exactly what he did. Before he fully stepped out, the deep voice said, "Be ready here tomorrow, 7AM."

The door shut behind him before Bernie had a chance to turn and the vehicle was gone just as quickly. When he did finally turn, he saw his apartment building before him.

[Krytenia]

Smug Mode: ACTIVATED
By Rami Niblick in Stanton

IF there's one thing more famous about Valrauncion than his prolific goalscoring ability, it's the "I'm better than you and you know it" expression that usually ends up on his face after scoring said goals. If this performance and result is anything to go by, the rest of the multiverse should get used to seing that face a whole lot more in the coming years. Krytenia were dominant all over the park against Carloso, putting the Baptism of Fire bronze medallists to the sword with a ruthless display.

Carloso were on the back foot as early as the second minute, backing off their opponents and allowing Matthew Gray of all people to run at them; his pull-back to Roberto Juliano led to a first time shot pulled wide of the post with Alex Fernán sprawling to cover his goal. With the visitors unable to make much of possession, the Dragons continued to pile on the pressure with several chances in the opening quarter of an hour, the pick of which was a Valrauncion strike which curled close enough to Fernán for him to clutch it gratefully to his chest. Perhaps the only bright spark of Carloso's preformance in the early exchanges was the aerial ability of Elias Armstrong, who did an excellent job dealing with crosses rained in by the Hansens.

When the opener did come, though, it was a symbol of Carloso's frailties more than Krytenia's pressure. Josh Coquelin's cheeky chip took Armstrong out of the equation, and as the rest of the defence dithered, Chris Naismith was there to take advantage and glance the ball past Fernán, who was caught in no-mans land. Krytenia smelled blood in the water, and continued to pile on the pressure for the second; when Matthew Gray is being given space to shoot, you know something's not right with the opposition. Thankfully from the Carlosians, though, his shot was well off the mark.

Surprisingly, that chance led directly to a golden opportunity for the visitors. Fernán's goal kick was glanced by Noah Reid into the path of Santiago Beldad, and Gareth Brannan clipped his heel as he attempted to tackle the sprightly winger. Contact may have been minimal, but the ref pointed to the spot and gave Diego Santander the perfect opportunity to equalise. Santander's shot, though, was poorly struck, and Marcus Washington was able to save the spot kick and save Krytenian blushes from what would have been an ill-deserved equaliser. Sensing that their lead might be more precarious than they thought, the Dragons pressed for a second, and were rewarded when Coquelin was given too much space twenty-five yards out. The attacking midfielder unleashed a peach of a strike that nestled in the top corner and left poor Fernán no chance. Carloso, though, didn't see themselves out of it, and Washington was forced to pull off a fine double stop from Santander's effort and Reid's rebound. Further light came at the end of the tunnel when Chris Naismith pulled up with a hamstring injury, which might well see him out of the next game.

If that was supposed to slow down the Krytenian onslaught, the home side clearly hadn't read the script. Admittedly, it was helped by a clumsy Ryan Clancy challenge, for which the defender received a yellow card; Valrauncion's strike from the resulting free kick, however, required no such luck. Fernán got fingertips to it, but it was so well struck the touch could only help it into the back of the net. Valrauncion then tried to outdo himself a couple of minutes later, attempting to lob the Carloso goalkeeper from the halfway line. Fernán was having none of that, though, and collected the ball easily.

The visitors got some hope before half-time, though. A rare passage of possession, and good movement in midfield, allowed Reid to shed his marker and come in on the overlap. He duly slotted in the close range shot, narrowing the gap to two as the teams returned to the dressing rooms.

Krytenia started the second half as they did the first, seemingly wanting to punish their opponents for the impudence of having scored against them. They almost got that revenge immediately, with Coquelin again finding space; his initial shot was parried by the keeper before squeezing the rebound across the face of goal from a tight angle. Juliano, too, wanted in on the action, playing a neat one-two with Tom Kelly before scuffing his shot into the grateful arms of Fernán. In the end, the Dragons' fourth goal was almost a carbon copy of their third. Another clumsy tackle, another yellow card - this time for Armstrong - and another unstoppable Valrauncion strike. At this point, it's fair to say the Carloso defence crumbled. With two defenders now treading on eggshells and the home side relentless in pushing forward, it was unsurprising that Jake Hansen found himself in acres of space for a Valrauncion through ball, and poor Fernán was completely exposed as the teenager slotted home number five. This was the cue for Valrauncion to make a couple more changes, taking off goalscorers Jake Hansen and Coquelin for John Burton and Callum Quiroga, and the former made an immediate impact, thumping home Joe Hansen's pull back to add another goal to the home side's tally.

That wasn't to say, of course, that the visitors had rollled over for their opponents. On the rare occasions they got the ball in the attacking third they did create chances, with Tristan Lowe nodding a corner just wide before Santander took advantage of some lackadaisical defending to poke home a consolation. Reid, too, attempted to try his luck with a long-range effort, but the shot was far too close to Washington for him to have anything to worry about.

The final nail in the coffin, though, was one poor tackle too many for Clancy. He bundled down Kelly, which drew a second yellow - and therefore a red - reducing an already demoralised team to ten men for the final quarter of an hour. The Dragons didn't quite take advantage immediately, as Valrauncion hooked the free kick over the bar, but the writing was on the wall. An admittedly soft penalty followed, with Reid putting a hand to Quiroga and the Avidia United man going down...well, let's be diplomatic and say "easily". Valrauncion made no mistake from the spot and completed a dead ball hat-trick. There was still time, too, for Quiroga to open his bag of tricks, as he floated a curling effort past the Carloso keeper from a tight angle to kill the game off even more.

Let's not kid ourselves, though. There are much tougher games left to go in our group, and the Dragons still have nine points to catch on the leaders. That being said, this result will give the team confidence, and the three teams on maximum points are all yet to play each other. There's still plenty to play for as the qualifying table begins to take shape, and for Krytenia it continues with a trip to the returning Star United States. Let's hope the good form continues. Onward!

KRYTENIA - 8
Naismith 18
Coquelin 31
Valrauncion 38, 51, 78
Jake Hansen 57
Burton 59
Quiroga 85

CARLOSO - 2
Reid 45+2
Santander 71

[Audioslavia]

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

It took the rest of the morning for Rory, Betsy and Constable Stevens (who perturbed Rory by being completely unperturbed by the dank, dark and frankly creepy-as-hell basement) to find a way to get some proper light into the lowest basement floor. Spotlights and lamps were carried down the stairs along with a number of extension cables to properly illuminate the room containing the desk, the oddly green stain on the wall and the skeleton in the centre. Going from the sheer blackness of the bottom floor to the bright white of the ‘death room’ necessitated a two minute long period of adjustment for the eyes. After the set-up, Rory entered the room and stood with his right hand over his eyes.
“It’s alright, he’s not gonna get up” said Stevens, chuckling. Rory considered aiming a slap in the direction of the voice.
Once adjusted, and with the aid of a pair of plastic gloves, Rory set about examining what was left of the body.
“I think he’s dead” said Stevens.
“I think he’s dead sir” said Rory, reminding the constable to know his place. In any case, it was Rory who made the sarcastic comments around here.
“Yes sir” came Stevens’s defeated reply.
“Have you checked the other rooms?” asked Rory
“No sir” said Stevens, trying to stifle a sigh. Rory smiled at the cop.
“Take that torch then and have a look around, there’s a good lad. See if you can find a skeleton holding a vial of poison”
“Yes sir” said Stevens, leaving in a discrete huff. Once his squelch-steps had quietened, Betsy spoke up.
“Why poison?” she asked.
“Well it doesn’t look like it was blunt force trauma from here” said Rory. “The autopsy will be a bit more accurate than me just checking for holes in the parts of a skeleton where there shouldn’t be holes. The white bits, I think”
“The jaw isn’t supposed to be attached, is it?” asked Betsy, unsure whether it was a stupid question or not
“It’s not, no. It’s not supposed to be resting on your rib-cage either, mind, but losing every ounce of soft tissue you ever had will do that to you”
“I’ll make a note to keep mine”
“Good good” said Rory. Trying not to accidentally tip the body over, he started very carefully lifting various limbs from the desk, showing nothing underneath. Rory sighed.
“What’s up?” asked Betsy, inspecting inside the skull, just in case the victim had left incriminating evidence of his murderer inside his own face
“The slightest touch and this guy is just going to fall apart. The joints are barely joined as it is.”
“How are we going to transport him to the Doc?” asked Betsy.
“In about five shopping bags?” suggested Rory. “Honestly, we’re not going to get him out of here in one piece. We’d have to put him back together again”
“What makes you think it’s a ‘him’” asked Betsy. Rory shrugged.
“All the skeletons I ever saw on TV when I was a kid had male voice actors” he said, scratching his head. After he finished scratching it, he shook it. “Oh to balls with this. Betsy, I’m sorry, but I need you to play goalkeeper for a few minutes.
“Goalkeeper?”
“If any part of this guy… or girl, I suppose… looks like it’s gonna fall off this desk, please catch it before it breaks into a million pieces on the floor”
“Yes sir” said Betsy, trying not to intone it like she meant ‘gee thank you so much, I guess”
Rory set about rifling through the skeleton’s clothes. Or what remained of them. Trousers that were largely in ribbons at the lower end, a shirt that had almost entirely rotted into yellow mulch but for the collar, and what looked like it might have once been a yellow jacket, but was now more of a light-brownish green kagool. Holding his breath, Rory put his hand into the inside of the skeleton’s jacket pocket.
There was something there.
Carefully, Rory pulled out a thick piece of card. It appeared to be three rotting pieces of paper all stuck together. The one at the front may well have been a train ticket, though any writing on it had long since vanished. The visible part of the back, probably from a completely different piece of card that had fused together with the others, looked like it may have been a bus pass at some point. There was a picture, heavily faded, of a smudge with brown hair and what was either a beard or simply another in the cacophony of brown stains that were all around the room. The only word visible on the card was on the right hand side, the only writing not having been evaporated into the atmosphere. It said, only, ‘Angel’.
“Angel?” said Rory.
“Yes, dear?” asked Betsy. Rory looked up to see Betsy still in the National League goalkeeper stance, beaming a smile.
“On the card” said Rory. “One word visible. ‘Angel’.”
“Oh” said Betsy. “Do angels have cards?”
“They do if they need a bus pass, apparently. At least they did a hundred or so years ago, aye”
“They must have gotten the wings sometime since then” said Betsy. “An angel, eh?”
“The halo must be soft tissue” said Rory, putting the ‘card’ into a small plastic bag. “You learn something new every day”

[Kita-Hinode]

[East Belzaria]

East Belzaria's journey in the qualifiers continued today when they played away in South Batoko. Going in, they hadn't managed to win or score away from home but did so today when Harada Lopez opened the scoring from a stellar free kick right on halftime. East Belzaria started the 2nd half strongly with Shad Radclyffe heading the ball in from a corner to make it 2-0. The victory is currently East Belzaria's biggest win in qualifiers and it is also the 3rd game in a row where they've stayed defensivley solid.

David Madridson was pleased with the scorline. He stated "This East Belzarian side had promise. Our conterattacking ability is what gave us so many chances. It honestly could have been more, but I'll take a victory no matter what the scoreline" Shad Radclyffe and Harada Lopez scored their first goals for East Belzaria today, and both discussed this. Harada Lopez said to reporters "We won the free kick, and Lorn [Monte] told me to take it. It was special to hear that he trusted me, and I didn't want to let him down. So I put everything into that shot, and now we're talking about one of our great goals." Shad Radclyffe had a different thing to say about his header. "I saw Brian Riez arriving at the far corner and tried to head the ball to him so he could finish it. But I miscalculated and ended up scoring." He said.

East Belzaria is travelling to Lochario for their 6th game. Lochario are 1 poistion ahead of them and definitley the toughest challenge they've had to face since the Northwest Kalactin game. Monte was interviewed about the game and he said "We need to be calm. Just continue what we've been doing. We're going to face many tough teams along the journey, but if we keep the spirit we have, we'll prevail."

Several million East Belzaria fans are going to Lochario to watch the game, and tickets have already sold out for East Belzaria's home game on Matchday 7 against the Equestrian States. "This has done wonders for our morale" says Benjamin Grenville, a citizen of East Belzaria "Everyone is swept up and enjoying the most popular sport in our country. Now that we're playing on a world stage, the popularity of football has increased."

[Kelssek]

EXCLUSIVE
GUTLESS ELECTRIC DEEP STATE CHILD PORN DEFAMATION TURNS NASTY
Conspiracy against soccer team?

Establishment media have been fingered in a disgusting smear campaign against the Kelssek national team which saw the starting line-up being leaked to lamestream journalists, social media influencers have warned.

Big Boy Bagsty, a clothing, fashion, and avocado enthusiast, said he uncovered the plot after a long afternoon ChapSnapping transgender models when he noticed a hooded figure removing documents from the desk of Kelssek manager Kirk McDonagh.

"This was lit up like, I was astonished by the hashtag yolo of it all," said Boy Bagsty, who was promptly interrupted by a sweaty fat kid who derisively noted that YOLO "is so 2012".

The theft was particular suspicious following Kelssek's 3-1 loss to Santa Rafa, which clearly was a result of knowing that the feckless Tim Bowler, who was caught on Sunday licking the yoghurt off the foil top, would be starting at right-back.

"It's a sad commentary on the media landscape of today, and definitely something which Marshall Throughbred warned us about in his masterwork, The Medium is the Message. #deep," wrote Boy Bagsty on his feed today.

This taps into growing unease that following their return to power in elections this spring, the United Communist government is just becoming too deep for their own good.

"The number of Foucault mentions and Derrida quotes being pasted on their streams is going up exponentially. This 'deep state' phenomenon risks alienating the 18-25 demographic who are so over biopolitics, having been subjected to the disciplinary Panopticon that is the education system for their entire lives," said professional consultant Patrick Therrien, who is also the bestselling author of Testicle Steaming and You: Health Tips Parents Need to Know.

Therrien warns that Tesla coils are an unproven technology and more research is needed before they are brought anywhere near the groin area.

[Mytanija]

For fair RP bonus attribution, this is obviously a very heavily Mytanarised take on Ulysses.

Team to play Eura: Savic; Feric, Azanovic, Obadko, Isaev; Brkljacic, Fejzuli; Kasunic, Odonelec, Nikic; Ocokoljic (switching to a 4-2-3-1 formation reflective of a more defensive approach versus our old rivals!).

Subs from: Gudelj, Anac, Madar, Todorov, Elvahic, Zvokelj, Zekic (will likely switch to 4-1-3-2 once substitutions are made, a formation the players are ICly more used to).

---

continued from here.

LAERTIADES

by Dorde Arsic

PART I: TELEMACHY
EPISODE 2, NESTOR

The Bursar was known as a man of many words. Mirko had to pay him a visit to discover where exactly his month’s pay was. It was a task he was looking forward to with a sheer lack of enthusiasm. There were many other things he would prefer to be doing with his time.

The Bursar was known around the School as a man with a particularly murky past, it was rumoured that he had inherited the job from his father, but only following his father being brutally murdered by a young upstart who specialised in particularly arduous labouring tasks. Everybody knew that he had a wife, but people couldn’t remember if her name was Eurydice or Anaxibia. People also believed him to be fairly wise, although many said that this belief could be misplaced.

Mirko had been told of one lecturer who had sought advice and ended up badly hospitalised as a result, but the lecturer had dismissed the result as ‘in the hands of the gods’ and had thanked The Bursar for his ‘sweet words’. In short, he was an odd character and Mirko just wanted his wages. He had enough unwanted and unnecessary life advice provided to him by the ever helpful Stojan Milotic.

He knocked on the door with trepidation.

“Come in.” Boomed a voice from the other side. Presumably The Bursar. Who really knew, though? So he opened the door and walked through and there he sat, The Bursar in all his glory. In his domain, his little Kingdom, the office from where the School’s finances were run. He was a rather large man, which is not exactly what Mirko had had in his head. That had been a tall, rake-thin numbers boffin with square frameless glasses and grey hair.

Instead he was large, rotund in fact, with a fair amount of brown hair – greying at the extremes – occupying his large head. He focussed his eyes on Mirko and smiled.

“What can I do for you today?” The Bursar asked.

“Basically, I haven’t been paid for this month’s work, I haven’t received a payslip, nothing.”

“And what is your name?” The Bursar enquired, turning to the computer sat on the desk in front of him, hand readied on the mouse.

“Mirko Dedalic.”

“Ah, yes.” The Bursar said, typing on the keyboard. “The young man who agreed to take a few tutorials on the Mytanar History and Politics course.”

“That’s right,” Mirko smiled. “And it’s been very enjoyable thus far, too.”

“That’s very good,” The Bursar said, focused on the screen but still very much in the conversation. “A man has to enjoy the job he does or else, what is the point in doing it?”

Mirko was unsure whether The Bursar was in fact asking him his thoughts on doing unenjoyable jobs or not. In most circumstances he would take it as a rhetorical question and laugh, perhaps provide a quick ‘yes, exactly’ and be done. But he felt like The Bursar was actually trying to get him to answer the question, almost a little challenge. Mirko wasn’t sure whether he wanted to accept it. He was readying himself to take his usual path, when The Bursar answered for him.

“An acceptable response would be to discuss monetary recompense for your time, Mirko.” The Bursar smirked. “We do need money in this world, do we not?”

“Ha,” Mirko chuckled nervously, “Too true.”

“Which is why us Mytanars are all over Rushmore and indeed, the world.” The Bursar said, turning to Mirko and looking at him over the computer. “A man who tutors both history and politics must know all about that.”

“Well yeah, I guess I do.” Mirko said, not entirely sure what The Bursar was driving at.

“What are your thoughts on Mytanar migration, Mirko?” The Bursar asked, smiling coldly. “I bet you’re glad you’re one of the ones that is still here, aren’t you?”

“Well, it has been a sad necessity throughout Mytanar history.” Mirko replied, “Our economy has been so fragile for large swathes of history and there has been consistently low job opportunities due to this. People generally always go where the jobs and money is.” Mirko shrugged.

“And what about foreign workers in Mytanija?” The Bursar asked, focused on the computer screen once again.

“We can hardly be anti-immigration given the size of the diaspora our country has produced,” Mirko laughed, almost involuntarily. It was a common opinion among younger generations of Mytanars, but he wasn’t sure it was as common an opinion for people of The Bursar’s advancing years.

“Can we not?” The Bursar asked, looking at Mirko sternly.

“I think it’d be hypocritical to be anything other than open in terms of immigration, if I’m honest.” Mirko said. “Besides, how many foreigners actually want to come and work in Mytanija in reality?”

“We have enough Cotdelapomais, Polarians and those damn Eurans about the place.” The Bursar said. Mirko didn’t reply. Awkward silence ensued.

The Bursar eventually broke it.

“What always amuses me is the way in which our large diaspora is often celebrated here, as something we should be proud of and demonstrating our openness to new cultures and all that rubbish.” The Bursar began. “But in reality, wherever Mytanars have gone they have been persecuted by their hosts and are looked down upon by locals for generations. Why should we be proud of that? Why should we be proud of the fact that our people are treated like dirt wherever they go? Why should we even allow that perception to build? It’s deeply damaging.”

This was not exactly a debate Mirko had expected to get in at the start of the day. Although he hadn’t really expected to be rudely awakened by Stojan Milotic and his Euran friend Gaines, either.

“I think historic perceptions of Mytanar people in other countries were generally driven by ignorance and misconceptions about our people, if I’m quite honest.” Mirko asserted, “And plus, there are plenty of places where Mytanars have never been persecuted and have got on with their work with no issues whatsoever.”

The Bursar let out a loud laugh. Mirko was not entirely sure what the joke was.

“The reason that Mytanars haven’t been persecuted in certain places,” The Bursar began, still laughing, “Is because those places didn’t let us in!” He exclaimed, falling into laughter once again.

Mirko didn’t really know what to say, he had only come for his payslip and hadn’t expected to be faced with such backward political thinking.

“Are you having any luck finding out why I haven’t been paid?” Mirko asked, trying to change the topic.

“Getting to the bottom of it around about now, m’boy,” The Bursar responded. “Anyway, why is it that you enjoy Mytanar history Mirko? Are you a masochist?” The Bursar chuckled once again, “Do you like all the pain and suffering?”

“Ha, not quite.” Mirko laughed. “If I’m honest, Mytanar history is a nightmare from which I’m trying to wake up.” He said, a remark that had the pair laughing together for the first time.

“Tell me Mirko, do you believe in God?” The Bursar asked, suddenly serious again.

“I do not.” Mirko answered, simply.

“And why is this?” The Bursar asked.

“Most religions have a depiction of a God that is entirely irreconcilable with the problem of evil for me.”

“Ah, the old Epicurean paradox. Modus tollens, all logically valid.” The Bursar said. “But what if God granted us humans the free will to be awful to one another?”

“I’m not sure that’s the case. In my view, God may as well be a shout in the street,” And in so saying, a shout came from the open window behind The Bursar from the playing fields that sat behind the building they were in. Mirko could not be bothered to continue the conversation, as interesting as it may have been. He had other places and other things to be doing. “Look, have you found out where my pay is, I have plac—” Mirko started, but was not allowed to finish.

“Now that,” The Bursar paused, almost triumphantly: “Would explain the horrible treatment of us Mytanars down the centuries, would it not?” The Bursar asked. This time Mirko knew that it was definitely a rhetorical question. As The Bursar had asked it he had stretched out his hand and in his hand was Mirko’s payslip. “There you go, fresh off the presses, the money should be in your account shortly. My apologies.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“You’re a smart lad, Mirko.”

“Uh, yeah, cheers. Goodbye.”

PART I: TELEMACHY
EPISODE 3, PROTEUS

Mirko found his way down to a quiet spot on the river and watched the water rush by. It was calmer out here and there weren’t too many people. There would be a couple wandering by, maybe a man walking his dog. They would come at irregular intervals and it was a bit of a break from the rat-race, Mirko almost forgot that he was in the city at times. He had clambered down onto a rock right next to the river and could feel the spray of the water, cold to his skin. It was September after all. It was only going to get colder.

He still wondered how his cat had died. It was a crying shame. He had been attached to the cat more than his own family. Those that were alive, anyway. His father was a bit of a wastrel, never holding down a job and more often than not content to be found drinking in one of the city’s pubs or bars, old as the city themselves. He could occasionally be found singing for a Corun or two, but he would never earn anything consistently. Mirko was surprised he had never been homeless, there were enough of them around the city.

His mother had been a different proposition altogether: a fierce woman, highly determined and motivated and well-educated to boot. She had taught various subjects to doctoral level, including history and politics, similarly to himself. She had died a couple of years prior, incurable cancer had spread across her body without any notice and after diagnosis she only lived for two weeks. He had loved his mother, she always wanted the best for him and had taught him to always strive for better. He had been close with her. She had played the role of two parents.

Mirko often wondered what it would be like to have had a father that had taken an active interest in his life. Would he have been any different? He was not so sure he would be. It would have been nice, though, having a father that could watch him play football as a boy and encourage him ahead of important exams. His mother had fulfilled that role excellently though and he imagined that she had done it better than his father would have ever been able to. Fatherhood just isn’t for some men, she had remarked from time-to-time and as Mirko got older he started to realise what she meant.

His own father would never have been suited to it. He was too interested in drinking and arguing in the city’s pubs to ever take an interest in a child’s existence. Mirko saw him from time-to-time, more by luck than judgment, bumping into him as he went for a drink with friends and his father would be falling out the pub door. Or getting thrown out, Mirko thought. His father would call his name and Mirko would try to ignore it if he could, sometimes he couldn’t and he would be forced into conversation with him. Most of the time it would be incomprehensible rubbish, but sometimes his father uttered slurred apologies about not being there when Mirko was a kid and all the rest of it.

He probably meant some of it, but Mirko didn’t want to hear it. It was too late for all that.

Mirko watched a leaf fall from a tree hanging over from the far bank of the river. He watched its flight, getting caught by the wind and blown nearer towards him. It fell slowly, circling downwards and just before it fell into the water, it blew again, pushed through the air closer to Mirko and fell onto the rock beside him. Mirko was reminded of a film he had watched whilst he had been a student in Cotdelapoms. It was in French, naturellement, but it told an anecdote about a man who, whilst falling from a height, repeated to himself:

« jusqu’ici tout va bien, jusqu’ici tout va bien, jusqu’ici tout va bien »

So far, so good. So far, so good. So far, so good.

« Mais l'important n’est pas la chute, c’est l’atterrissage »

But it’s not important how you fall, it’s how you land. Or thereabouts.

He should have repeated that to The Bursar, he would have enjoyed the anecdote. It was relevant to much more than the falling leaf and the fictional man, though. Mirko applied it to all sorts of situations in his life now. So far, so good. It was always the result that counted.

He thought back to the girl from his tutorial class, Anita. He wished he could be young again, those halcyon days of being an undergraduate and just generally fucking about. He wished he could return to them. They were such good fun. He had studied in a few different countries around Rushmore in his ‘year abroad’. They had allowed him to split it up even more than the standard one or two countries purely because of his desire to travel. He had begged and begged for a couple of months and had turned a solid ‘no’ to a ‘yes’ by the end of it. He convinced them in the end.

That year was probably the best of his life. He didn’t do all that much in the way of actual studying, but he sampled all there was to offer everywhere he went. University had been a fun few years, but that year in particular ruled them all.

The water continued to rush by as a woman on the far bank struggled to prevent her dog from urinating all over the tree that was hanging over the river. Mirko could hear her shouting to the dog, telling it to stop, that it was too close and it might fall in. The dog didn’t listen. It didn’t fall in either, but it was relatively funny watching the woman struggle to keep control of the canine.

He picked his nose and thought about the poetry and mythology classes he had studied in his first year at university. They had been a lot of fun. He had been with similar, like-minded people who were determined to have a good time in their first year at university and they never took things too seriously. The poor lecturers must have found it difficult, attempting to teach their classes to a bunch of kids barely out of high school that were clearly still inebriated from the night before. Mirko remembered one time when he went into a class clearly still under the influence and had told his lecturer that his girlfriend had had a baby in order to get out of it.

At the time he didn’t even have a girlfriend, never mind a pregnant one. The very idea was anathema to him at that moment in time. It made for a funny story though.

He also remembered visiting Polar Islandstates on a trip that he had paid for out of his university bursary. A group of them had gone on an excursion to a remote village in the hope that they might see some of the country’s native seals in their natural habitat. This man, who they all believed to be a local crackpot, had welcomed them to the village. It later turned out he was going to be the man leading the group out onto the beaches to see the seals.

A few minutes later this man sat down on the sand, then lay down and there he stayed. He didn’t say anything to the group and they all stood there, looking around at each other and out to sea and wondering what was going on. The Polarian didn’t say a word, the entire time. Around twenty minutes later, a girl from the group let out a squeal and everybody looked at her, wondering what was wrong. But nothing was, she was just pointing out to sea.

Lo and behold, there were the seals, all flopping out of the water and across the sand. They would move all the way up to where the group were on the beach and they approached the Polarian guy too, almost like an old friend. Mirko often remembered the Polarian’s colony of seals. On the trip back to the village, the Polarian had told Mirko that his favourite seal was called ‘Pharos’. Mirko often remembered that too, although he couldn’t remember the reasoning behind the name. That often annoyed him.

Maybe he’d go back there one day.

“O, O the boys of Sigurno…” Mirko hummed to himself, lifting himself up off the rock and preparing to turn back towards the city. Thunderclouds were gathering overhead and Mirko did not very much fancy being caught in a storm.

He heard a crack behind and he turned his head so he might see what had caused it. There was nobody there and Mirko could not see a definite source, so he continued. He needed to blow his nose but the idiot Stojan Milotic had stolen his last handkerchief, just like the Euran usurper had stolen his room courtesy of Stojan Milotic.

He’d have to purchase another handkerchief when he was about the city. He had thought about visiting the dentist, to fix a tooth at the back of his mouth, but he had been waiting on his wages from the month’s work to come through. He would likely have to wait another day and that just wouldn’t do, it had been causing him pain for a couple of weeks. It could wait another day, at least.

He’d probably end up a pub by the end of the day. Just like his father. Mirko had spent some time in Astograth in his ‘year abroad’ and he had opened up about his familial situation to a young local girl one time, she said three lines in the local tongue and Mirko had asked her to write it down for him. They were Astograthian proverbs. He still wasn’t entirely sure what they meant, but the words looked like they had such a mishmash of letters that sometimes it looked like the vowels and consonants were at war. He still had that scrap of paper somewhere.

Aita biltzaileari, seme hondatzaile
Aita ongi eginkari (xarakiten zau) seme berartrakari
Amari egindako zorrak ez dira inoiz ordaintzen

[Commonwealth of Baker Park]

I made a big error for the previous match when I mixed and matched my squads--I adjusted the other RP, and this is the correct Gold Squad lineup!

National Team March On

by Oliver Stanley
The Post Soccer Correspondent

Coldfield 2-6 Baker Park

Crownsville, Coldfield--The Commonwealth National Team made it five for five on the campaign here at the Crownsville Palace Colossus with a clinical victory which puts the side on the verge of history. But more on that in a moment.

Due to a scheduling mistake, this was only the second outing for Pam Scott's Gold team, and she proved her penchant for lineup changing was still strong, as only Steven DiPietro and Valerie Agahambri returned for a second start. Kyle Moyer started in goal with Terrence Stephens, Julie Ackerman & Kris Day in defense; Trent Yeomans and Sunish Ismail on the wings and Annabeth Westmoreland alongside DiPietro. Seth Schmidt came in for Ali Salih and Jamari Bozeman rounded out the attack.

The hosts entered the contest with a scoreless draw against Taeshan the only blemish on their record thus far, but BP found a tempo which they excelled at early and it was a sight to behold; DiPietro and Ismail worked down the right side with impunity within the initial 5 minutes and Bozeman blazed a rocket just over, then Ismail again moved the ball forward for Agahambri, who also just missed her first shot on target by mere inches.

Yeomans celebrated his first cap since the Baptism of Fire 67 semi-finals with his first goal for the senior side, switching over onto his right foot after beating the fullback with a cut to the inside and smashing home from inside the box to make 1-0 with 12 minutes played.

Coldfield seemed to awaken after the goal, with a solid period of possession, but time and again they were caught out either by an effective offside trap or a forced error under defensive pressure. Schmidt was next to get his name on the scoresheet, as a foul on Yeomans from 22 yards out set up a free kick, which Westmoreland played like an indirect kick (by giving it a slight nudge with her toe) before smashing it on target, where it deflected off a defender right into the path of the Hillsborough forward and he made no mistake.

Another period of tepid possession from the hosts followed; during this period there was a subtle re-configuring of the midfield, as Westmoreland and Bozeman interchanged their positions, and it was the Middletown City Ladies midfielder who set up another chance off a midfield turnover from Coldfield, this time on a quick counter for Agahambri who used her own sublime individual talent to hit a shot to the upper near corner which might be the goal of the tournament when all is said & done, and with just 7 minutes left before the interval it was 3-0 and home supporters seemed restless & disappointed with the effort of their heroes.

In stoppage time, Baker Park won a corner and Ismail whipped an outswinger to the far post, where Schmidt was waiting to power it inside the post for his second on the night and the halftime whistle brought more muttering and boos as the sides left the pitch.

Coldfield showed they did have fighting spirit, as they pushed forward with more urgency following the break and on 53 minutes, a foul & booking on Julie Ackerman gave the home team a chance at an attempt on goal. There was no defensive wall or reaction by Moyer that could've prevented the resulting laser from finding the back of the net and now it was 4-1 and a bit more energy in the home support.

The next 15 minutes summed up the dominance of the Commonwealth on the night; Yeomans ran with the ball and laid off to Westmoreland on an overlap down the left wing, her cross to Bozeman was flicked on to Agahambri, who easily tapped home at 63'. After Schmidt was replaced by Sabrina Patton & Maria Fernandez replaced DiPietro, the attack broke free on a quick counter and Westmoreland found Bozeman at the edge of the 18 & his one touch gave him the gap he needed to smash home number 6 just on the stroke of 70 minutes.

Coldfield managed to pull back a consolation with 6 minutes of normal time remaining; Ackerman was adjudged guilty of a foul in the box & picked up her second yellow card as well as a penalty being awarded, which was slotted home with ease. Maria Fernandez dropped back to cover Ackerman's spot in defense, as Eddie Wagner had replaced Agahambri earlier, so the Bees were down to 10 players. In the end, there was no further threat and the result enabled BP to nudge ahead of Darmen on goal difference.

Looking ahead to the trip to Taeshan, there will be chance for this same squad to put their names in the record books; the win here was the fifth consecutive victory and the eighth consecutive unbeaten match, dating back to the AOCAF, both achievements tying the all time record for the National Team. Five straight wins have been accomplished 3 times--1955-56, 1985-86 and 2012-13--and 8 matches unbeaten have been accomplished twice--1983-84 and 2012-2014.

[Oberour Ar Moro]

Kadvael Heault could hear the rock music intro, and watched as the director counted them down to being back on air. He smoothed down his jacket, and double checked the buttons. To his left, he heard Genevieve Foulon start speaking.

"Welcome back to Antenne Sports' Final Whistle! If you just joined us, you missed Oberour Ar Moro defeating Swibia one to nothing. To go into more depth, let's go to Final Whistle's own coach: Kadvael Heault."

The crane camera swung dramatically towards Heault. As he did every week, he had worked with a staff writer to prepare his off-the-cuff commentary, but he didn't have much positive to say. They had to negotiate him down to "some positives along with a warning for the future" instead of "this seemed like rubbish beginning to almost end".

"Thanks Genevieve. As a manager one of the toughest things is to prepare your team for away matches. Hostile crowd, change in routine, sleeping in hotels instead of under your own roof, these things have negative effects. So seeing the boys finally claim a victory on the road is a real positive sign. Ties are points, but the good teams, the champion teams, clean up on the road."

Now an analyst was supposed to ask a question, which Kadvael would answer. Karneg de Haute-Couronne was the third man at the analyst table, and had been given the assignment. Kerrian liked him. He knew way more about football than Francois de Diepe, but less than Genevieve Foulon. He wasn't as polished as those two. More polished than Kadvael, but Kadvael just had to be a coach.

"So, coach," Karneg started in his halting way, "do you think this game is a step forward for the team? A, say, dragon they needed to slay?"

Kadvael hadn't known that Karneg would reference dragons. He recalled one of his favorite stories, and made a little crack.

"If Saint George slayed dragons like this team played football I don't think the people of Silene would agree to be baptized."

That was a much larger crack than he meant. Kadvael heard de Diepe choke on a sip of water. Well, Kadvael is going to hear about this later. Nothing to do but press on.

"Winning in Swibia is important. That's a nation with a lot of multiversal experience. This was not a clean, elegant, victory. A victory still. Three points, keeps the team third in the group. But a game where Kerrian Odierne scores the only goal of the match, via deflection, is not what you like to see from Oberour Ar Moro."

Kadvael rocked back and forth on his heels as he looked past the teleprompter to the director staring daggers at him from next to the camera.

[Qusmo]

SPONY LUQ TELEVISION

Hello, all. Welcome to Spony Luq Television, broadcasting from Qanz, Qusmo. Qusmo has performed remarkably well in the first quarter of World Cup 81 Qualification, with four wins earning them the top spot on the Group 9 table after five matchdays. For the first couple matches, the offense stole the show, with four goals in both matches. For the next three, however, the defense was the star, conceding only two over that span. Either way, Qusmo has done an excellent job so far; now we’ll take a closer look at what they’ve managed to do in World Cup 81 Qualification & whether they’ll be able to keep it up. We’ll take a question from a viewer in Tracam.

Do you still think that a position at the top of the table is unsustainable?

At the outset of this campaign, we did predict that Qusmo would have a good start, but that it would fizzle out. To be fair, they have performed better against certain opponents than we thought they would. We did not expect, for example, four-goal offensive explosions against Rakivland or Axuva to open qualifying, nor a come-from-behind victory over New Gazi at Mastad Qanza. That has been impressive work from Qusmo so far, marred only by a home loss to Savalen.

Qusmo has both scored the most goals & conceded the fewest in Group 9 - &, in turn, has the most sterling goal differential. &, of course, Qusmo is atop the table, as none of their groupmates has bettered their twelve points. There is no doubt that they are doing remarkably well if you look at the statistics compared to the rest of their group; however, we have to note that Qusmo has not faced all its opposition yet.

Specifically, they have only faced one of the three teams ranked higher than it - & that was at home. In their next four matches, they will face three of the five previous World Cup qualifiers from the group; this cadre was represented in only two of Qusmo’s first five matches. Qusmo’s success has been due partly to beating up on a lot of easier opposition & partly to an upset win over twenty-ninth-ranked New Gazi. Ultimately, Qusmo took care of business against the three teams it faced which are making their debuts this cycle, taking the full nine points; however, it split the series against the two previous qualifiers, hinting that, after meeting more tough opponents, their record may not look as healthy as it does now.

Indeed, looking a bit deeper, there may be some cause for caution when you look at the other 180 teams trying to qualify. Qusmo has a very good goal differential, at +9. That’s good, but it’s not exceptional across the multiverse. Twenty teams - one in nine - have a better goal differential than Qusmo. The main reason is Qusmo’s offense. Despite an explosion in the first two matches, with four goals each, Qusmo has only managed four goals in the last three matches combined. Qusmo has twelve goals, but so do fifty-two other teams - over one quarter of the qualifying field - & Qusmo trails forty-one teams, including Mercedini, lapping the competition with 27 goals scored thus far.

The reason why Qusmo has been doing so well is not a couple of good offensive performances over low-ranked teams; it is Avarn-Oxolt Ban’s specialty, its defense. Qusmo certainly isn’t the best team in the multiverse on this measure, but it is very, very good. Having conceded only three goals thus far, only twelve have let in fewer; seven have conceded twice, while Tinhampton, the Equestrian States, & Farfadillis have let in only one & Brenecia & South Covello still have yet to concede.

However, at the end of the day, what matters is the table. No group is paced by a team with less points than Qusmo has now. Only Group 9 & Group 11, led by Qusmo & Jeruselem, respectively, have leaders sitting on twelve points. Meanwhile, Turori & Starblaydia top Groups 1 & 5, respectively, on thirteen points each. However, of this cycle’s nineteen qualifying groups, all fifteen others see at least one team which has yet to drop any points, opening their qualifying campaigns with five consecutive victories.

Twenty-one teams are riding a full fifteen points, with three more on thirteen. Qusmo is one of seventeen teams with twelve points, meaning that they are only in the top 41 in the qualifying pool on the standard of points alone. Twenty-nine teams still have yet to lose through five matches, but Qusmo is not one of them.

One of those twenty-nine unbeaten sides is Qusmo’s next opponent: Eastfield Lodge. The only other Rushmori opponent Qusmo has faced in any setting outside of the Copa Rushmori is Ceni, & no fan of the national team is in doubt as to who holds the advantage in that series. Ceni beat Qusmo 5-2 & then 5-1 in World Cup 80 Qualification, before earning a 3-0 shutout victory in the Round of Sixteen of Copa Rushmori XXX to send Qusmo packing.

Every match Qusmo has played against Ceni ended in a loss of at least three. Qusmo has never lost by more than three to any other opponent, & a three-goal losing scoreline was only ever matched in a friendly against Apox in the wake of that Copa Rushmori exit. Qusmo’s struggles against Rushmori opposition is not limited to Ceni, however; Qusmo has played six matches against other teams from Rushmore, but they lost five. Their one positive result was a win over East Neutralia, unranked in both the KPB & Rushmori rankings at the time.

So, if history is any guide, Qusmo will not be taking anything for granted against Eastfield Lodge. Unfortunately, Qusmo will then have to face an opponent that looks even tougher, especially if you take an eye towards history: Valanora. Valanora is not just another multiple-time World Cup qualifier; they have qualified for dozens of editions consecutively, & they have five World Cup trophies to their name; no other nation in the multiverse can boast more.

Valanora still seems like the class of the group; however, they have been in a slump of late. In fact, this is the worst start to a World Cup Qualification effort for the Vanors since the campaign preceding World Cup 32. However, they will get a chance to right the ship against Axuva on Matchday Six, & they will then host Qusmo on Matchday Seven, likely in better form but knowing that they need a good result to continue to stay close to the top approaching the halfway mark of qualification.

So, Qusmo will have to face two of its three Group 9 opponents ranked higher than it in succession, including heading to Valanora to face the five-time World Cup champions on their home turf, in what looks to be the most difficult match of their campaign. These are two very tough opponents, & no analysis of Qusmo’s performance or its chances can really be made until they emerge from this gauntlet.

These two matches will go a long way towards determining whether Qusmo really can go far or whether its success against lower-ranked opponents is limited to only that. If Qusmo can emerge with three, four, or even six points, they will be able to sprint to the finish of the first half of qualifiers, with Nuadh-Alba & Polkopia left on their plate. However, achieving this will be monumentally difficult, & if they cannot, they could slip in the table very quickly.

If Qusmo cannot perform well against World Cup-quality competition, they have no place going to the World Cup. On the other hand, if they can do well at that level of play, they may deserve a spot in Banija & the Free Republics. Not only will Qusmo’s next two matches likely be key in determining whether they qualify to the World Cup, but they will also provide that test of whether they truly are worthy of doing so.

Group 9
New Gazi 3–1 Savalen
Karulicja 0–2 Qusmo
Eastfield Lodge 2–0 Axuva
Valanora 1–0 Rakivland
Nuadh-Alba 0–0 Polkopia

   Group 9                         Pld    W   D   L    GF   GA   GD   Pts 
 1 Qusmo                             5    4   0   1    12    3   +9    12
 2 New Gazi                          5    4   0   1    11    4   +7    12
 3 Eastfield Lodge                   5    3   2   0    11    6   +5    11
 4 Savalen                           5    3   0   2    10    7   +3     9
 5 Polkopia                          5    2   1   2     7    7    0     7
 6 Valanora                          5    2   1   2    12    9   +3     7
 7 Axuva                             5    2   0   3     6   13   −7     6
 8 Karulicja                         5    2   0   3    11    9   +2     6
 9 Nuadh-Alba                        5    0   2   3     2   14  −12     2
10 Rakivland                         5    0   0   5     6   16  −10     0

QNT takes care of business against unranked Karulicja
Karulicja 0–2 Qusmo
Hosted in Karulicja

---

GK  Xynat-Evela Cuf
CB  Cunix-Betva Tla
CB  Zenon-Gerol Kal
73’ Ozolx-Alfan Ixi
CB  Yelto-Alfan Ono
DM  Yamaj-Blonz Jok
CM  Ilinx-Kepex Zev
LM  Kynda-Sevet Pec (62’)
RM  Forzu-Ralox Kal (40’)
AM  Ilinx-Vulav Ixi
54’ Gavax-Nenzi Abe
SS  Paliv-Xilit Max
ST  Xilit-Zaxac Yol
68’ Prant-Pertz Gor

[Main Nation Ministry]

Machine of Death: Confession

He gotten his predication at the mall almost this morning, now he was back home finishing up some snakefish and risotto dinner before heading to the living room couch to watch his favorite TV show set in Main Nation Ministry. Moving his dish towards the sink, he glimpsed through his kitchen window to view the nightlife outside. The sound of cicadas were outside, as the house across the street had it's light on. He let his dish in the sink, as his show was about to start. It wasn't the typical reality TV that Main Nation Ministry likes to do, but more of a soap opera if best described. He originally was a skeptic when the machine came out. After all, he was one of the first people in the Ministry of Science to test it out.

He remembered it like a typical break that all of the co-workers have, sharing their experiment stories by the coffee maker and water cooler with paper cups and glass mugs. It wasn't until, let us just call our little Einstein inventor Tim Peridot, hauled out the machine one morning to all the other coworkers. "Took me 4 years to make sure the results were correct." he claimed, as he hauled the metal beast in the room to show everyone. Everyone started taking turns jabbing their fingers in the machine to have their blood drawn. Of course, Tim Peridot was the only one so far who gotten OLD AGE. Perhaps the first one, unless someone back at the mall got a similar result. Those in the Ministry of Science gotten some random predictions, such as SWEETS, DESPAIR, and even SUICIDE BY ALLERGY. The machine, at first, was like a twisted party game for all ages. The only problems were that some people were a little anemic to jab their sausage fingers in the machine.

He remembered the time he was out in the jungle being an ex-soldier for the war, being a guard for several POW's. It was a scary experience being out in the middle of nowhere away from civilization, but he knew his prediction wasn't STARVATION otherwise he would have died immediately, if he didn't have any survival skills. He remembered a name. Johnny. Johnny looked up to him, as an idol of some sorts. However, he was envious of Johnny, because Johnny had something he didn't really have at all. An actual love of their life. That was when he saw an opportunity, of course. All he needed to do was be a bit too careful and have Johnny attempt to help him round up an escaped prisoner who ran into the darkest part of the jungle. Now, what was next was finding the prisoner and doing a little illusion with simply two casualties. When they found Johnny's and the prisoner's bodies, he told them that the prisoner managed to grab Johnny's gun while attempting to restrain him, where they shot Johnny, forcing him to take action.

Watching his soap opera, he looked at his prediction again to see the words CONFESSION in menacing highlighted words. He knew the lie wouldn't last long. He will be forced to spill the beans, no matter what. He can even hear the sirens hearing towards his house from a patrol unit.

[Mriin]

Some time ago...

Before he knew what was happening, Geraard found himself sat in a small helicopter compartment. A rather cramped space what with Don, Joren, and Solara all crammed in there--being the shortest and the lowest on the pecking order didn't lend well to him jostling for real estate. So he directed his attention outside and downwards, to the ever-shrinking IKEA Arena they'd just escaped.

"I'm guessing the Flefts aren't taking it too well?" he quipped, ribbing the dragon in a subtle grab for some elbow room that was resoundingly ignored.

"The Fleftics are well-known for their hooliganism," Don sighed. "Moreso of the celebratory sort, but I'm not taking any chances after a match like that."

Solara nodded, managing to bang a horn off the (comparatively) low ceiling. "Ach--well, they thought this was a gimme game. Stumbling first seeds at home? Perfect time to punch up. Watching it slip out of your hands like that is rough."

"If they're pissed, that means we did our job!" Geraard gave a full-bellied laugh, before straightening his face up some and glancing up towards the gaffer's muzzle. "I'm hoping that settles your concerns."

"It certainly settles my 'concerns'," cut in Solara, before Don's glower could rest on him. "I was worried you'd put down football for cricket and not told any of us."

"Cricket, eh? I certainly put that Zima guy in a sticky wicket, wot wot."

A terse puff of smoke (carefully blown so as to not get in the pilot's way) got a cough out of the both of them. The four silently took in the sounds of the blades beating for a few minutes as the small fleet of helicopters descended on Wanda Island's airport. Just as they were about to touch down, Don relented. "Yes, that performance sated my concerns. Now we need to keep that up."

"Let's just get out of here." Joren shivered as he hopped onto the tarmac. "This place gives me the chills. Crazy to think these people managed to colonize a bit of AO. Crazier that we're playing them back-to-back."

[Jeruselem]

Darkmania, coach Princess Chloe with Katya Dallas after Jeruselem's first loss to the home team

Katya: Err, sorry about today. Not our best day ...
Chloe: Not your fault, our form on away games was bit flakey. Two 1-0 wins away tells me we have get to better away. We were bound to lose an away game.
Katya: Does this always happen?
Chloe: We're not the best with away games at the best of times anyway
Katya: I guess we aren't expected to win all our games
Chloe: I don't expect it, hey we're ranked 54th not 4th. I just want to bloody qualify first.

Katya: I'm just happy not to be homeless ...
Chloe: So, did the landlord ask you where the money came from?
Katya: Yeah ... I just told I have friends in higher places you know
Chloe: You didn't exactly lie about that
Katya: I didn't want him to expect me to have loads more money either
Chloe: I got a good lawyer if you have more issues

Katya: I don't want anymore trouble
Chloe: Neither do I have enough things to worry about
Katya: It's good to go home!
Chloe: I just noticed the home team here in Darkmania only have one name, no surnames
Katya: Yeah, wonder why?
Chloe: That wouldn't work at home, geez. Especially with our family, you can only have so many first names until we have start repeating.

Katya: Where's your sister Cassie?
Chloe: She's run off to a crypto conference somewhere round here
Katya: Special guest speaker
Chloe: Yes, she's popular as a guest speaker.
Katya: Someone told me she's one of biggest hoarders of Bitcoin in Jeruselem
Chloe: I don't know I don't ask her how much she has, but she's richer than me.

Katya: I'm lucky to have any money
Chloe: Keep saving baby
Katya: Reminds me, I need a new suitcase.
Chloe: Yes it does look a bit overused
Katya: Not that I have a lot of clothes anyway
Chloe: Mine isn't much bigger than yours either

Katya: That's because you don't exactly wear a lot of clothes anyway
Chloe: Err, true dat.
Katya: Say, if you and your sister have kids ... who's taking of the kids?
Chloe: The Dads, we told them they have to do some parenting.
Katya: Good idea
Chloe: We have Mum at home anyway, she keeps the kids under control.

Katya: She's not exactly retired
Chloe: No, she's hosting a dating show on TV. We get bored easily ...
Katya: Oh that one, yes. I forgot ...
Chloe: You watch it?
Katya: Yeah, she's not exactly subtle.
Chloe: Hey, we don't fluff around. You know that
Katya: Nope, I'm a Dallas. We sure don't fluff around.