World Cup 95 Roleplay Thread

[Maraonia]

Maraonia 2–3 Equestria
Salish Republic 2–3 Maraonia
Maraonia 0-0 Ceni
Maraonia 2–3 Squornshelan Remnant States
Attestaltarragaby 2–4 Maraonia

W:2 D:0 L:2

So far Maraonia’s WC95 campaign is doing…okay I guess? Despite been 4th and their group has 2-time World Cup champions Pasarga and winners of the 83rd edition Equestria and Ceni and also 4 others everything doing okay at the moment. Currently Federico Martinez 7 goals aka Maraonia’s highest scoring player during the campaign Sébastien Grosjean and Jose Carvalho have been scoring both 4 goals. But there still 10 games to go which means Maraonia have to work hard on their first qualifying campaign.

Maraonia will play Sanjur and Pasarga next.

[Banija]

Toyuwa Okafor, A Banijan Mkiiko and former Ambassador to Cardenao, about to walk into a meeting at the Lukiiko

Toyuwa Okafor was sitting down, in his Parliamentary office. The elections were about to happen- he knew that the Banijan right was going to romp. An election delayed due to regional instability around them (the demise of AO and the birth of Arrosia), his center-right People's Protection Movement Party was about to be elected with a big-time coalition majority in Banija. The right would sweep to power, with yet anothr Banijan government being brought down due to Farfadillis related antics (could anyone solve that country?) Okafor, of course, was a backbencher- with this being Banija's second election in a year, no time to climb up the ladder. Yet.

But of course, because of that, there hadn't quite been time to appoint a permanent Ambassador to Cardenao, despite its status as such an important Banijan ally. Of course, almost everybody had been focused on the war in Farfadillis- its growing stature, the increasing failure of Banija's main ally on the island, and then Banija's effort to rescue said ally- one that failed spectacularly, and embarassingly, on the world stage. Seemingly, the MO for any Banijan foreign policy adventure these days. A lot needed to be redone to rebuild and repair Banijan military prestige after that failure.

That said, despite that, Banija still exercised growing diplomatic and economic clout on the world stage. A core member of the newly founded Arrosia, the demise of Atlantian Oceania actually offered a golden opportunity for Banija to really flex its muscle and do its thing on the world stage. So while many things were focused on getting core institutions of Arrosia up and running, and of course, updating Banijan law to reflect the move from AO to Arrosia(and the demise of AO wide institutions), things like appointing Ambassadors had been put on the backburner.

But, as always, the show must go on. And Okafor had a key recommendation for the next Banijan Ambassador to Cardenao. Another athlete. This athlete, of course, being a world champion- the third string goalkeeper on Banija's World Cup 86 winning team. None other than the man himself, Jumu Sanneh.

Okafor had just finished his meeting with the representative of the Kabaka. "Yes, my recommendation is Jumu Sanneh." Sanneh was a flashy kind of guy. A world champion, yes, but a 3rd string goalkeeper isn't necessarily well known. He was an elite player for Turoki United for years in Vilita, and had been 37 years old when Banija finally broke through to win the World Cup. Hadn't done anything on the pitch, but an important locker room figure. Sanneh had not really dabled in politics since he retired. He simply went to law school, got his J.D., and had turned into a successful sports agent. Not the world's biggest, certainly, but a decent clientele and sports agency.

Okafor remember he had been asked a simple question- why? "Jumu has absolutely all the skillset to work as a Banijan Ambassador." He told the representative of the Royal Family. "He's wickedly smart, has a hardworking, hard-driving passion for his country, and he is able to get himself into any room. He's got an inquiring business mind- you have seen some of the successful sports contracts that he's negotiated as an agent." After Jumu Sanneh had made clear that he would not give up his sports agency to take the Ambassadorship, a deal had been struck- Sanneh would be able to run his agency while serving as a Banijan Ambassador, provided he did not use his position as an Ambassador to get Cardenao athletes into his agency.

Everybody had agreed.

Okafor was smiling. He sent Mihaly a quick text, knowing the main man in Cardenao had many bigger things on his mind. But Banija officially had a new Ambassador to Cardenao.

---

The World Cup Qualifying Window from Hell

Pam Scott sat down, staring straight at the team sheets going back into her hotel room. The last three World Cup cycles had been so smooth, with Banija having reached three straight World Cup Finals. The last Qualifying campaign, in particular, had been magnificent- they went unbeaten in Qualfiying, dropping points only once, a 1-1 home draw on the final day of World Cup Qualifying. But each cycle is its own campaign. Banija had the world #1 ranking, and the weight of being the two-time defending champions on their shoulders. A lot of pressure, sure. But just like everybody else, they would have to earn their way into the tournament.

First three games, three wins. Smooth sailing. But this past window? Dear heavens. Everything was flashing through her mind. Hell, the confusion playing against the team from the Dreamed Realm. "Abel, pass the ball to Abel- not, not you Abel!" She remembered screaming from the bench, as her team, but dressed in red, were the opponents on the pitch. "Oh come on, can't anybody cover this dude- can anybody keep with him?" And as the poets from the Dreamed Realm could tell you much more elegant fashion, no, they could not.

And then, of course, traveling to Indusse in the shadow of the worst terrorist attack in Indusse's national history- a very emotional Indusse squad just kept scoring their way into a 4-3 upset win. Tears everywhere, people visibly shaken- but you've never seen a football match quite like that. "I mean, this one..." She simply let drift off in her post match press conference. "Well, first of all, my heart goes out to all the victims of the terror attack in Indusse- it seems as if there are nearly 1,000 dead, and that number is only growing." The Banijan Government had also offered 'whatever aid necessary' to Indussse in the trying times, but of course, as Pam Scott was not a politician, she didn't mention that.

She talked about how they were inspired, how Indusse played for their country, those players played for the dead, the wounded, a way to bring their country joy, a respite from the fear and anguish many are feeling at this moment. What tactical changes were there to make? A bold statement to say when you had just lost two in a row, and were currently sitting in the Cup of Harmony zone of the WCQ group standings, but...

"Eh- we're gonna run it back." Pam Scott had confidence. Even two losses in a row were not enough to shake her faith in what had been clearly working for Banija for a while. She felt as if this team was good enough to earn that fourth star- and certainly good enough, this lineup particularly, to finish top of the group, While many coaches might panic and tear it all down, the gaffer was going to stay calm, trust herself, trust her players, and stay the course. This was a fork in the road- this moemnt would either be the beginning of an epic collapse, or a minor blip on the way to World Cup Qualification. She had faith- this window would surely be the latter.

[Independent Athletes from Quebec]

Independent Athletes from Quebec (IAQ) - World Cup 95 Team
WINDOW 4 - @ HUElavia, v. Aquatian
26-PLAYER ENTRY

Best XI vs. HUElavia (4-3-2-1): M. Brown; Joo P.S. - H. Kim - Cizeron - Miller; Pyo - Wawanolett - Oh-Chainey; Korniloff-Kouyate - Poulin; Salihamidzic Beckie
Best XI vs. Aquatian (2-3-3-2): Oh-Ntare; Kim G.S. - Salihamidzic; Wilson-Didh - Dyxkeson - Flores; Tsioui - Vegeta - Hong Y.S.; Hamisi - Poulin

GOALKEEPERS (3):
Mederick Brown (West Couno United, TMB), Jeon Seung-Mook (Brattleboro FC, CDG), Marianne Oh-Ntare (Litala '93, MYT)

DEFENDERS (9):
Pierre-Karl Cizeron (Liria, MYT), Alain Delisle (Mipojoseon), Esteban Flores (Lhor, CMT), Joo Pil-Seung (Frenei Tor, CMT), Kim Gyeong-Seok (Swangard Athletic), Hannah Kim (Sivolvia Capitalist, SRS), Pierre-Karl Miller (RGS Athletic, EFL), Sinisa Salihamidzic (Montreal Koreana), Brian Wilson-Didh (Santranginus, SRS)

MIDFIELDERS (7):
Pengsoo Brown (Lanar, CMT), Joelinton Dyxkeson (Brantisvogan, SRS), Camille Oh-Chainey (CSKA Quebec), Pyo Seung-Hye (Avondale City, SYL), Rebecca-Anne Wawanolett (Chromatik, CMT), Alain Vadnais (Swangard Athletic), Vegeta (Brantisvogan, SRS)

FORWARDS (7):
Billie Blue Hamisi (Urrheddiao, CMT), Hong Yeong-Sahm (Lhor, CMT), Oberon M'bah-Pinho (Tihon, CMT), Corneille-Theophile Poulin (Avondale City, SYL), Odette Tsioui (Perce Town), Amina Salihamidzic Beckie (Frenei Tor, CMT), Otis Tekaronhonte (Eivora Athletic FC, TKT)

OOC note for the Hosts: Two separate posts this time, with the second one to be posted before the MD6/7 cutoff. This measure is done to ensure correct pacing for the course of 'Ahead By A Century', while also separating.

If you have to only grade one of two RPs, please do not grade this RP, as this will be the minor of two RP posts to be posted tonight. Priorities and whatnot.

General note for all: Please consider that this RP is retroactively dated to before the start of WCQ-95.

---

The Mathletes - Scientific, Literary Venue of Sports Journalism

World Cup 95 Qualification: RQFA-FFFF Announces Home Venues Agreement - Agelong practice continues with Krytenia, HUElavia matches to be played at The Reneegrad, rest in various venues abroad

Drake-Lynn Levithan

LIBERETE, RULANDEA -With the Qualification stage draw being announced for the 2064 World Cup 95 two days ago, placing the Independent Athletes from Quebec in yet another less-than-desirable group that is headed by fortunately familiar faces in HUElavia and Krytenia, the Royal Quebecois Football Association (RQFA) has announced the allocation of home venues for the seven home matches to be played by the Grim Reapers, not in the RQFA headquarters of the City of Reneegrad, Joongyeong Federal Province, but Lìbêrêtê, Rülândéá.

The four stadiums announced in the RQFA Qualification Venues List, which was unveiled at the signing of the RQFA-FFFF Shared Agreement with FFFF President Tuskoles Yagaras present last night, have confirmed the historically-unprecedented arrangement where 'appropriate placements' were made to not only suit the safety-related needs for the I.A. Quebec side that has increasingly been caught under a crossfire in a civil war between The Bubonic Plague and the RQFA, but also to ease the transportation logistics considering the longstanding agreement between two federations that have allowed the Reapers' senior side to hold training camps in the Szoirsian deserts.

To no surprise, The Reneegrad will be hosting the home matches against the team's second and third seeds, that being the traditional allies in Krytenia and long friends of HUElavia. As with the previous cycle, where the Reapers' game, a 0-2 defeat against Valanora, these will be the only ones played on the Quebecois soil. The rest of the matches will be played in Farfadillis per the agreement, with three venues selected for the course of competition. The matches against Devonta, Sannyamathland and Aquatian will be played at La Gran Avenida in Puerto Farolera, while La Fantás, Ferdullaele will be hosting West Barrack and East Obama (conveniently shortened as WBEO). A match against an anon nation, in the meanwhile, will be played at an unnamed uranium mine in Ruland, with strict stipulations that eleven prisoners dressed in rainbow jumpsuits play under closed environment.

Home venues for the friendlies will also be scheduled on the mainland Quebec, as it would fall outside of the official World Cup 95 qualification cycle.

The practice, while considered unusual by international standards, is nothing new in terms of qualification matches held by the RQFA. In past editions, there have been no shortage of questionable venue selections by the RQFA to ensure the security of the passengers, as well as its short-lived attempt to maximise revenue in an agreement with QNR Holidays. History of hosting qualification matches in uranium mines and overseas oil rigs (this one I did not RP a specific post, so just redirecting to roster post with venues list -e.d.-), offshore islands in middle of the Blood Sea and more recently the upper deck of the cruise ship Edward FitzSimmons, would suggest that this agreement actually formalises the procedure into something more consistent with the pre-existing RQFA practice.

'It is nothing unusual, if we are to consider by the RQFA practice,' said Gabriel Obry, a former RQFA board member and currently advisor to the NSWC. 'We have to considr that the RQFA is under a lot of interested parties and they have to balance them out by taking what could be most unusual, but at least among safer, options. Edmund FitzSimmons helps getting around the problem the problems generated by the cycle before that with allowing fans into an uranium mine for a match against a Level Four country.

'The one before that also spread the matches across the country, but have devised creative options to not only improve both the viewer experience from television, but also to protect the Quebecois citizens. The Pronghorn Islands were a fun experiment, but hosting most qualification games in middle of the Blood Sea isn't a safe idea from objective standpoint. So yes, this is what I would consider to be trending towards a positive direction in trying to satisfy everybody.'

The RQFA practice continues to suggest its disregard for the concept of home advantage which, while universally accepted on domestic football (see: the RQFA ban on away supporters following the Reneegrad Riots of 2052), there exists multiple recordings that would actively denounce it as a nonsense on international football. It is a debate both controversial and silently-executed among many, with the Reapers' Rushmori mates in FSM going as far to maximise the utility value by hosting the home matches on isolated, difficult venues on all corners the country.

The RQFA's decision to stick to go the opposite way, pushing for the most extreme of circumstances by not only pissing off The Bubonic Plague to call for a war against the RQFA and the current Irene Kweon Binnington government, is an interesting choice. It would be the one that may benefit the national team that is best known for collecting red cards, Superclassique-driven factions, and not to mention tendencies to start or encourage civil wars. Playing in the grounds where home fans are likely to be locals, who for political reasons would not qualify as home fans (duh) - the previous cycle's use of Edward FitzSimmons is bit more on this aspect, but TBP is traditionally known to be not afraid to boo and throw debris at their own players off a poor performance anyway - may develop stronger mental fortitude for the players to perhaps aim for a stronger finish in World Cups proper. Once again, Cups of Harmony does not count.

It is something that the Team Quebec manager Ramaz Dolnight has not had to deal much so far in his tenure. This is especially considering a relatively-painless qualification campaign that followed a terrible Cup of Harmony 85 performance, which stood in contrast to the roller-coaster his predecessor, the late Ruben Condori had for most of World Cup 92 cycle. It is a good news, but one that hides the requirement for one to persevere through the unexpected challenges. The Reapers' job is one that is traditionally considered more of high-floor, low-ceiling (?) position, with all but Fabrizio Kaal, the team's short-lived Licentian manager who had led the Reapers to their worst qualification finish in fifty years back in the World Cup 90 qualification stage, having made the World Cup proper at least once. Dolnight has done it already once, but succeeding it the second and possibly the third time will be important for this reason. Anything but a qualification would be considered a failure.

Please see below for the assignment of home matches for Independent Athletes from Quebec for the World Cup 94 Qualification campaign:

The Reneegrad, Joongyeong Federal Province (Cap. 82,000) -- Krytenia, HUElavia
La Fantás, Ferdullaele (Cap. 70,000) -- WBEO
La Gran Avenida, Farolera (Cap. 60,000) -- Devonta, Aquatian, Sannyamathland

[StrayaRoos]

StrayaRoos 3-2 Natanians and Nosts
C. Kaiplo '34, '61 Keane '87
StrayaRoos 2-1 Glazgo
Kerr '10, '67
StrayaRoos 0-3 Archalit
StrayaRoos 2-2 Valanora
C. Kaiplo '71 Vidya '89

---

StrayaRoos' National Football team is in their best form in history, beating Natanians And Nosts and Glazgo win this window, after drawing with fourth ranked Valanora last time. If the results keep going our way, we could potentially be on our way to the Playoffs in Chromatika or Sylestone, or at least a higher ranking then we're currently at. The recent matches were however, closer than we would want them to be, as our defence would be stronger if we had 5 scarecrows at the back instead of actual human beings, as we've conceded the third most goals in Group 19, and we're only above Glazgo and Britonisea, who are 7th and 8th respectively. In attack, we're flourishing, with 11 goals scored, at an average of 2.2 Goals per game. Hopefully this leads to something positive coming soon.

[TJUN-ia]

TJUN-ia 3-1 Brannfjord
Goals: Regina McDuff (19', 56'), Jose Lozano de la Cruz (66') | Sigurd Haugen (78')
Mood: The Vikings were 3-0 entering this one...and we made them look like Anglo-Saxon villagers.

Eastfield Lodge 1-1 TJUN-ia
Goals: EFL Player #9 (48') | Jackson Smith-Scott (14')
Mood: Stop, Start, Stop, Start. 4 points off 2nd, 7 behind 1st. Double Woof.

After going through the Book of Freiden, Lesson 3 would be a much-needed 'Break'. The first two classes on TJUN 101 saw Jason McGovern and the rest of them blitz through the Book of Freiden, the Genesis of The Book of Jungles, but while that was certainly an experience, the Book of Atlantis lies ahead - a mammoth document spanning a majority of Europe and North America in what could accurately be described as "the Western Chapter". Due to that being next up, Miss Li decided that jumping straight from Frieden to Atlantis wouldn't be the best of ideas and so, in order to boost morale, she decided that this would be the first "break" of the subject, only talking about Freiden through a 10 question quiz at the start before allowing the class to chill for the remaining time.

That seemed to work on the overall dynamic of the room, the dread replaced by typical drama and action that NEN can produce, with all the different cliques that can form. You had the athletic types, the geeky types, the girls group and those not part of the other 3 groups. You had Chris Palmer in the athletic group, the quickest boy in the class, Tania Gregory in the geeky group, as that is her calling, and Jessica Bernardo in the girls group, because of obvious reasons. Jason, on the other hand, was part of the 4th group - one that didn't really belong to any of the others. He wasn't a girl, wasn't really that athletic and didn't really do much in the ways of gaming. He was just...there. No one really cared about him, sat in the corner just re-reading Freiden again...and he didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

The bell rings. Time to go back out there again.

[Juvencus]

LESSON LEARNT? LA SQUADRA ON A 4-WIN STREAK FOLLOWING LOSS AGAINST DELTE? THINGS TO TAKE

The fiasco at Stadio Gianluca IV is something the team will have to carry within itself in this campaign.It is true that getting obliterated 0-3 in their own home hurt everyone in and around the squad. However, what is also true is that the famous pep talk by the fans themselves served as fuel for the sudden improvement in gli attaccanti's way of playing and aggression sound on the pitch. The Pomenienze is starting to look fresh again, with the most promising sign being the 3-1 victory against Sargossa in an jam-packed Nuovo Stadio Olimpico della Pomena. While previously defeating Macbon 5-2, Kharakia 2-4 and even clinching a victory against debutantes Corporate City 1 in the last minute all serve as signs of positive change.

Is there really a message sent following these matches? Or is it that the group is weak? Statistically speaking, the Juven team has always been put in groups with in from squads which have made the climb towards the higher ranks a difficult task, sometimes even insurmountable. The team not only had to outperform its opponents for a shot at qualification, but prey on their own downfall at the same time. A weaker squadra facing off against opponents in weak form might be its golden ticket for a cheeky world cup qualification. However, with Delte in top form, direct qualification chances are getting harder each matchday. Defeating Sargossa, the team's most direct threat and increasing the difference to 4 is a good safety pillow to at least clinch a play-off spot.

While all eyes are on Audiol and his own Testiculos nomination, another talent has been emerging in the Juven ranks and this is none other than Quarto Bevilacqua. The young gun has been killing it in Chromatik's formation, scoring 15 goals(much like Audiol) in one of the most difficult leagues in the multiverse at just 21. Both Audiol and Bevilacqua have left a good impression in their debut years and it is of big importance these qualifiers. Bevilacqua scored a clutch brace against Corporate City 1 to give the team the victory, while Audiol scored 2 against Sargossa in the triumphant derby victory. With that said, Bevilacqua is proving to be a force to be reckoned with on the flank and as such he is surely a player that will become a staple in future lineups for gli attaccanti, something which is useful.

Returning to high-strength lineups is the way to go. Really, it is. Much rotation might be good in giving youngsters and other new internationals time on the scene, but teams at this point are no joke and with the inconsistency shown by la squadra, high rotation seems to be its weakness. Stronger teams means likelier wins and even then, some easy-on paper- opponents are hard to defeat. This was mostly seen by Evinea last cycle where the Baptism of Fire debutantes pulled a Tveidalen-on-Nephara show, defeating our team twice.

Lastly, home fans make the labors worth it. With the exception of the Delte match, the games against Macbon and Especially against Sargossa in jam-packed stadiums provided for unforgettable atmospheres that the players will not forget. An 137,000 capacity Nuovo Stadio della Pomena filled to the brim with people, chanting and beating drums, bringing forth the giant tifos. Chants followed by boos whenever the Sargossan players were in possession. They were all tide-changing events.

The team needs to focus its directions towards strengthening the connection between the players themselves and eventually the good, steady flow of gameplay will arrive. Only Madeiros can balance it at the moment, even if his position is at somewhat of a risk.

[Savojarna]

SAVOJARNAS DAGBLADET -- INTERNATIONAL
Savojarna’s prime news source for international readers

Adyati Detente “possible, from our point of view” in case of regime change
Sjoedrhavn/Vestrholm - Savojarna’s government has only recently started shifting its attitude to its neighbour to the West, but things are looking interesting as there are increasing news of illness coming out of the closed-off Adyati inner circle. With the hardline LKPS gone from government and the KPS currently dominated by its more pragmatic wing, the Savojar cabinet has attempted multiple outreach actions towards Adyatin, with the main hopes being the exchange of citizens (most notably, enabling the around 10’000 ethnic Savojars still in the country to return to their families, a right that has been denied to some since the 1940s) as well as prisoners. The latter topic was a common theme in the 1960s and 1970s, when spies and secret service members were frequently arrested in both countries, but has been revived a few years ago when three Savojar students were arrested in Staraya Vetri surrounding a sports event, and half a year later when a hiking group got arrested after accidentally crossing the green border. Both groups have been in Adyati custody since, under charges of espionage and sedition, and disrespect of the Adyati King in the former case.

However, the Adyati government had long blocked all approaches, insisting on isolation at the behest of Prime Minister Vasily Svetanov and the foreign minister Oleg Sanyashin. However, Svetanov has been reported to be ill for months and rarely seen in public. Savut sources reported he suffered a stroke in October, and suffered further complications in recovery in January and early February, whereas dissident sources from within Adyatin claimed Svetanov was suffering from dementia. Now, official channels claimed he has been struck with a heavy case of influenza, explaining his absence from public life; insiders have increasingly rumoured he may step down [url]as reported[/url] [url]in this newspaper[/url].

Savut sources strongly hint that his successor could be moderate characters Dmitri Kalashenko or Igor Patrassov, currently the finance minister and the General Party Secretary of the Adyati National Popular Party. Both are known as internationally more dovish than Svetanov and Sanyashin, putting them at the forefront of Savojar detente hopes. When asked by a reporter today, the Commissioner for Foreign Affairs Anton Larsson (KPS-I) stated that “we are willing to explore all options - Sjoedrhavn’s doors are open to anyone seeking our cooperation”. He emphasised his government’s commitment to peace and support for Savojar citizens, including those in Adyati custody. Chairman Bjugstad, who is due to step down soon as new elections are looming, stated that he “believes that detente, from my point of view, may be finally possible again, more so than ever since the 2000s (when Svetanov was inaugurated, ed.)”. Of course, this is all dependent on Svetanov actually stepping down from his post, by choice or by nature.

Ongoing news - watch for frequent updates

---

Daily Headlines

LKPS chairman Lanjev calls Adyati detente hopes “speculative treason”, urges Bjugstad to reconsider

Syndicalist chairwoman Ljökelsöy: “We are looking to govern in a left block after the elections”

Maersk relaxes as Savojarna finally win first match of World Cup Qualifying

Squad for MD 6/7

versus Sudilia:
Virulainen - Krogstrup, Röysveit, Hatun, Strid - Larsson - Novikov, Sadianov, Tretjakov, Gyldenström - Medberg Hansen
Bench: Hilde, Viipuri, Thelander, Leifsen, Halvorsen, Jaranski, Vingegaard, Orakhin, Tepparainen, Nygaard, Ehlers, Alvesen

versus Tzvi:
Hilde - Krogstrup, Röysveit, Thelander, Strid - Sadianov - Novikov, Tretjakov, Vingegaard, Tepparainen - Alvesen
Bench: Virulainen, Viipuri, Hatun, Leifsen, Halvorsen, Jaranski, Larsson, Orakhin, Gyldenström, Nygaard, Ehlers, Medberg Hansen

[Valanora]

When a plan comes together and is executed to perfection, it can lead to even a wily old veteran like Dan Eastwood to having a smile and that he did after the latest international window for the Marauders. Six points from a possible six and the defense looking quite a bit more sharper, the subtle adjustments that he had put into place and instructed the players to employ coming to fruition. It was the sort of thing that managers live for, to see their tweaks and adjustments paying dividends at the first time of asking, fine tuning an already fairly solid strategy to be even better. Two wins was definitely what the manager was looking for in this window after failing to capture the full six in the previous, having to have made peace with only capturing four and temporarily being part of the chasing pack rather than the team at the top of the table and in that automatic qualification spot. While the side was able to navigate past a tense playoff situation during the last cycle, avoiding a repeat appearance in them and getting automatic qualification was the goal for peace of mind and lack of extra fixtures on his squad's legs.

Qualifiers were a bit of a conundrum really as a top seed, as anything other than finishing at the top of the group, and usually comfortably, is seen as underperforming and subject to critique from fans and media alike. Meanwhile if you do finish at the top of your group, you are still able to be picked apart if you do not do so in a dominant style or struggle to put distance between yourself and the rest of the group at least towards the end of the campaign. Even if you somehow do manage to do all that, then you are merely doing what is expected of you and so as players and managers that once you have reached the pinnacle as a national team, there is really only getting the job done or underperforming. It is a difficult situation that makes it hard for national teams to maintain that spot at the top end for long swathes of time, making those who manage to do so all that much more compelling and a true tribute to mental fortitude as much as talent or luck might have had a part in getting there in the first place. The grind of the mundane, such as qualifiers might come to be seen for those who spend too long at the top, tests commitment and discipline in ways that you truly get a feel for who your most mentally tough and committed players and staff are.

Eastwood sat there and wondered for a moment what sort of individual Laborious Hawk really was, having been at the top of the footballing world since roughly World Cup 36. Sixty World Cups, if including this one, and yet the elf continued to carry on as if he had just been called up from the reserve team into the first and had something to prove to the manager and fans. Surely at some point over the last century the elf would have had times where he would have felt the strain of continuing to compete in the World Cup and the Qualifiers for it to be something of a chore or a distraction rather than a place to test his mettle? If Eastwood was beginning to feel the strain of having been in the game as long as he had with less than half the amount of years that the elf had been part of the game, how was it that he still seemed so determined to keep going on? Part of him was frightened of whatever it was that was the driving force for his captain, but he was happy to be on the side of the team that had such an unique individual at the heart of everything, perhaps the key to unlocking the way forward to the group title and the goals that the team had beyond the qualification process.

[Hapilopper]

(OOC Note: This is part of a continuing series called "Nathan Ellis's Quest," a long-term storyline dedicated to one man's crusade to bring Hapilopper to the top of the footballing landscape. You can read the complete series here, which will be updated as the competitions unfold.)

19: Dissension
“Don’t tell me I’m not doing my job!”
An unfortunate few people got a glimpse of the old Nathan Ellis just after the home opener, a frustrating 4-2 loss to Cardenao. It was Ellis Football’s second loss in a row, following an equally-frustrating 4-3 loss to Aleirave, and for Nathan, two losses in a row in this campaign was going to be, plain and simple, unacceptable. A decisive loss like their loss against Cardenao – no matter how good of a team Cardenao was – was simply unacceptable. It wasn’t a loss that the Ellis Football boys could hang an excuse on for a reason why they hadn’t performed well – they just plain got spanked by their opponents.

A couple of people, hanging outside the Ellis Football clubhouse, spotted Nathan stewing as he walked towards the locker room. These people weren’t media, they weren’t players – they were a couple of fans with passes. And they were staring right at Nathan, who stared right back at them.

“You want something?” Nathan snapped at the fans. “Unless you have business here, get the hell out of my hallway or I’ll remove you!”

This was far removed from the Nathan Ellis that had been over the moon at his team’s performance against who he thought was the toughest adversary of the group, Baker Park. This was a Nathan Ellis that was fuming over his team’s lack of performance, and he was about to let them have it. But what he saw next surprised him as he walked into the locker room.

It had been about five minutes after the end of the match and players had made their way into the locker room. Unbeknownst to Nathan, there had been some arguing amongst the players, asking who was to blame more for the team’s failure of the last two games. Rod Cutt was fuming at Stan McLamb and Bernie Sherman, who he felt had let the team down with some subpar play. McLamb, meanwhile, wanted at Cutt due to a cheap penalty that blew the door open for the Cardenaoans. It was a penalty that, McLamb felt, turned the momentum of the game around.

“What the fucking shit was that?!” McLamb snapped. “You cheap shotted that player! And for what? They scored! They ran wild on us because of that! You beat us, you dumbfuck!”

“HEY!” Cutt snapped back, picking up a chair. “You want to talk about beating? You fell asleep! You couldn’t get a shot in worth shit! Don’t pin this on me!”

“Are you saying I’m not doing my job?” McLamb snapped back. “Don’t tell me I’m not doing my job! I’m the goal scorer on this team! I’ve scored more goals than anyone! Don’t you fucking tell me I’m not doing my job!”

As both men argued over who was the biggest reason for the loss, Nathan started seething more and more. He was already in bad mood before this got started, and now this was only making it worse. In a different way, he was alright with the fact that his players weren’t alright with this, but he was not alright with the fact that his boys were on the verge of completely imploding because of one – er, two – poor football matches. And it seemed like McLamb and Cutt didn’t even notice Nathan. McLamb had picked up a chair of his own, and it seemed like, at least for a second, that both men would be swinging chairs at each other.

“Make your move, fuck knuckle,” McLamb snapped. “You want to swing a chair? Try me.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do?” Cutt asked. “You gonna lay down like you laid down out there?”

That was enough. Nathan had heard and seen enough. It was time to get involved.

“THAT’S ENOUGH! BOTH OF YOU, THAT’S ENOUGH!” Nathan roared. “YOU TWO FUCKERS PUT THE CHAIRS DOWN AND LISTEN TO ME OR I’LL BASH BOTH YOUR HEADS IN!”

Both men, almost as if on cue, dropped the chairs and turned to look at their head coach.

“We ain’t going to go anywhere if we keep blaming each other for this,” Nathan continued. “It’s not one person that fucked up individually, we all fucked up! We win as a team and we lose as a team and god damn it I’m not going to have you guys implode because you’re playing a blame game over who did what and who screwed up. If we spend this whole time trying to blame anyone, we’re not going to be able to focus on the next one!”

“Well, Rod Cutt clotheslining that guy sure hurt us,” McLamb cracked.

That was it. Nathan spotted a tennis ball sitting on a shelf in Tim Radomia’s locker. He grabbed it and without hesitation hurled it as hard as he could at McLamb’s face. McLamb didn’t have a chance to move out of the way. The ball pegged him right in the face, staggering him a little bit.

“What the fuck, coach?” McLamb asked.

“YOU THINK I’M DOING THIS FOR MY OWN HEALTH?!” Nathan roared. “You completely disregarded everything I just said and I find that disrespectful. I’m not going to focus on blaming one person or another and god damn it you shouldn’t either! We take what we learned from this match and we move on from it! We do NOT focus on blaming one person or another. We all got beat.”

“Yeah, you didn’t need to fucking throw that ball though,” McLamb snapped.

“Evidently I did because I feel like I’m going in one ear and out the other,” Nathan responded. “Tell you what – since you’re not going to listen, for the next week before we go to Myrtle Beach, you and Cutt are rooming together.”

“WHAT?” both shouted in unison.

“Did I stutter?” Nathan asked. “You two need to learn to get along. You two are rooming together. This is not up for negotiation. You two are going to get along or I’m going to suspend both of you. And if I have to suspend both of you because you can’t behave, I’m going to throw both of you off the team. And I don’t want to do that.”

The Roommate Experience
It was 5:30 in the morning in front of the Ellis Football offices, the morning of the trip to Myrtle Beach. All the players were making their way out to the offices, where they would get on a bus to travel to the airport, which would get them on a flight to Myrtle Beach for their fourth match of the qualifying campaign. Nathan, not surprisingly, was the first one on the bus, sitting in the front seat.

He figured something was up when some of the other players got on the bus and smirked at him. Other players had heard something ridiculous had happened in the last week between Rod Cutt and Stan McLamb, having roomed together. After ordering the two to room together, Nathan had laid down several ground rules: Don’t do anything that would get the cops called. Don’t kill each other. And try to bond with each other.

“And if I get a phone call at three in the morning complaining that you two have done something stupid, I’m going over there to stick a boot up both your asses,” Nathan told them.

Thankfully, Nathan didn’t receive that phone call. What he didn’t count on was that, yes, in that last week, they bonded after practice. It turns out that both men had a common interest in 1990s stoner comedies. One called up Tim Radomia asking to buy some of his stash. Another called up the local pizza place asking for three pizzas. By the time it was time to get on the bus, it seemed like whatever problem the two had before had subsided.

But what Nathan didn’t know is the fact the two also had an interest in pulling prank calls. Stan and Rod had let their teammates know through a group chat of what they had done – with the demand to not tell Nathan what they had done. After all, Nathan would find out in due time. Or maybe he didn’t need to find out. But whatever happened had to have been funny because the other players were all but cracking up as they got on the bus.

Finally, when Stan and Rod got on the bus, it seemed all was well.

“How’d it go?” Nathan asked. “I didn’t hear anything from either of you.”

“Went just fine,” Stan said. “We watched some really good movies. Great pizza too.”

“Yeah, Sally’s Pizza has a really good supreme,” Rod said. “We got three of them and went through them.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Nathan responded. “Glad to hear your problems are behind you. Now let’s get forward, go to Myrtle Beach and whoop some ass.”

Several hours later, while the team was on the flight to Myrtle Beach, Nathan found out what Rod and Stan did. He was half-asleep, lounging in his seat when his phone started going off. It was the mayor of Garvinson, Sherman Patterson, that had received a really naughty prank call late at night – as well as a really naughty series of emails.

And unfortunately, because of the way the emails had been sent, anyone responding to the emails were automatically responding to everyone in the email chain – which just so happened to be everyone in the Garvinson City Government, as well as, for some reason, everyone in the governments of the four Hampton Cities. The emails – and prank calls – were extremely vulgar in nature and could not be described in this medium, but let’s just say that it involved a graphic description of someone’s body part.

On the bright side, Nathan actually found this to be a bit funny. He was peeved that he had been awoken by a phone call, but when he heard the description of what had happened – in lurid, graphic detail, he had to hold in his laughter – and he was failing. So he wound up getting chastised by the mayor of Garvinson for exploding in laughter – particularly at the mention of the name “Myrone Rhule.”

For Nathan, it meant that Stan and Rod had put their problems behind them – and in the most ridiculous of ways. It may not have been the way he was expecting, but the fact was that the two had bonded behind a ridiculous prank call, and they were stronger for that. And at the end of the day, that’s what Nathan wanted.

[Sarzonia]

"Mr. President!"

Not again! Grant Haffner thought. This was supposed to be his week away from the Gray House and all the attendant drama associated with it. He'd instructed all staff to approach Lieutenant President Brian Patrick with matters of relatively low importance.

I should have made it anything that wasn't a crisis, he thought. He stifled the urge to snap, What is it THIS time? as he saw the aide approach him.

"We still haven't announced our land claim in Arrosia," the aide said, trembling as he brought the matter to Haffner. The Sarzonian head of state closed his eyes as the object of his ire morphed from being bothered during a rare Thanksgiving week vacation to the fact that this transition from Atlantian Oceania to Arrosia wasn't as smooth sailing as hoped.

After all, Haffner wasn't even deputy senior vice president yet the last time Sarzonia moved regions. He wasn't part of the discussions in the Gray House situation room. Nor was he part of the paperwork parade that moved the country from Gay to Atlantian Oceania. Haffner tried to remember where the files that set the process in motion were kept. Or even if the files were kept on compatible software.

This was a massive headache, and no, it wasn't something he could just have Patrick handle. This was his responsibility. If he could just find someone, anyone who actually knew what all was involved in this transition.

He thought about Becky Davis, President Sarzo's secretary. He didn't recall seeing an obituary, so he placed a call to the last known number for her. Unfortunately, while she was, in fact alive, she had been diagnosed with dementia 13 years ago. She was now in a care facility and barely knew her own name.

Helen Hartnett was also considered, but she was one of the early fatalities of the SARS 2 novel coronavirus. Finally, he saw Melissa Wade appear on an email string. She was experienced, and she was involved in the transition to move to Atlantian Oceania. He called her up.

Finally, just before the stroke of midnight, Haffner pressed the required keys to send in Sarzonia's land claim. Afterwards, before Haffner finally succumbed to his body's desperate pleas for sleep, he saw the results of Sarzonia's thus far miserable failure in World Cup 95 qualifying. A 1-0 away defeat to unranked and unfancied Semarland. A 2-0 home loss to No. 6 Farfadillis.

Are you effing kidding me? he thought. A loss against a top 10 team in the multiverse was one thing, but losing to the one side that should've been surefire points was an embarrassment.

"Dammit! Fire Reynolds!" Haffner snapped before he caught first lady Gloria Haffner and the [i]don't you DARE look on her face. OK, fine. He wouldn't pull every string known to humanity to force a firing, but that didn't prevent him from taking a shot at the team in his press conference the next day.

[Nephara]

Nephara 1 - 4 Brenecia
(4-4-2) 20 - Longstreet; 2 - Holden (17 - Swain), 5 - Roback, 6 - Scales (22 - Brehmer), 3 - Xu; 13 - Brewer, 4 - Gale (8 - Anhope), 24 - Sebold, 11 - Loeher (16 - Serval); 9 - Kulesza (10 - Tjaden), 21 - Vetiver (s/o 82')
Goal: Vetiver 51'

Sea Dome 0 - 1 Nephara
(4-4-2) 12 - Sebring; 17 - Swain, 5 - Roback, 6 - Scales (22 - Brehmer), 3 - Xu (25 - Arconada); 13 - Brewer, 4 - Gale (15 - Rothvogel), 24 - Sebold, 16 - Serval; 9 - Kulesza (14 - Berenguer), 10 - Tjaden
Goal: Tjaden 29'

"This is, I'm pretty sure, the worst thing to ever happen to our nation."
The other co-commentator was silent.
"I mean, it's fucking down there. Right down there." The commentator sucked his teeth. "Free Republics, World Cup final... we're talking that territory."
"We bounced back," mumbled the co-comms.
"Tveidalen. It's Tveidalen areas."
"Don't... don't say that name."
"Or, go back, even. Go back to fuckin'... Bypass, to Felix. The Sargossa campaign. We thought we had it, right? I mean, I wasn't alive then. But you still wince, looking back..."
"Bloody hellfire. 4-1."
"Those are the areas we're looking at."
"Four fucking one."
"Jesus Christ."

There had been all the regular warnings. Brenecia were a capable side, they entered as second seeds, stepped out into the Farham Arena into a deluge of abuse and hurled coins and weathered it manfully. There were some great players there, still. Largely the wrong side of 30. Their best technical young player had a slightly doubled chin. Their main hope was in their tough defence, but they had only one truly great centre-half, Jeong, and uninspiring options in goal. And their form to start out the campaign had been completely wretched. Two defeats, already, and if they made it three here... Camden's job might just be under threat.
Nephara hadn't had a particularly inspiring start to the campaign, either, and the home defeat to Trolleborg was deeply concerning. Still, Nephara's record of qualification was the second-longest stretch in world football, eclipsed only by Farfadillis. There were always wobbles, but they were rarely fatal.
Also, it was Brenecia. Brenecia! Perhaps a threat at home, where it would be a furnace. But...

Sixteen minutes. And it was against the run of play. But in truth, though Nephara had dominated in possession, they hadn't quite been able to unpick Brenecia's patient massed defence, no damaging balls to truly split the defence. Madita Brewer was Nephara's one truly creative threat, but if she tried to keep the outside, Cahara Riordan stood firm on her, and were she to cut inside, Bede Cheschon picked her up and stifled her out. Arachne Loeher had aimed a few sharp crosses into the box, but for these, the hulking lug Ruadri Wheater was well-equipped. Bellona Sebold tested her luck from distance, a sharp, bullet strike headed directly for the bottom corner, but Cessair Meade - hoping to impress after being thrust back into the team - threw herself down and tipped the ball around the post. The corner, again, swallowed up by Wheater.
Tiamat Holden picked up the ball, chested it down, took it forward.
Her touch was heavy.
Sweeping in with sudden, vicious pace, the nose of an opportunity, Mor-Rioghain Stokes swept in and nipped the ball away, evading a hasty hack from Holden - likely for the best for Nephara, it could have been a straight red - before racing up the other side of the pitch, chased in vain by trailing green shirts. Tanith Xu alone was able to catch up on the edge of the box, both players plainly exhausted; but it told with Xu, and she overcommitted to a feint from Stokes, who took the second of time it bought to roll the ball smoothly into the path of Katua Byrne, the veteran forward taking one touch before rifling the ball nervelessly past Chary Longstreet.

The Cormorants tried to hit back, but nothing quite stuck. Always there seemed to be a white shirt throwing themselves in the way. Skaidrina Briggs caught a shot from Vetiver full in the face, and stayed down for minutes, Cormorants pointedly tapping at invisible watches as she milked the concussion protocol. But the best chance of the rest of the first half fell to Mor-Rioghain Stokes, when Chary Longstreet fumbled a cross from Hadley. Straight into Stokes' path, in a sea of bodies, but without much time to convert the chance; she blasted it over. Reprieve.
The Cormorants came out steaming, determined to make good on their chances, and it didn't take long for normality to be restored. Quick, sharp interplay, passes down the left flank, culminating in Xu being played down the side and cutting a short, sharp ball in for Vetiver to drive home. 1-1 and surely, on run of play, as Vetiver scooped the ball out of the net and raced to the centre circle, deserved, and surely headed for 2-1.
Well. It was.
Three minutes later. Long throw from Riordan, a poor glancing header from Vetta Roback, a lunging, diving header from Stokes, skimming into the grass on its way past a stationary, stranded Longstreet.

Brenecia sat back, smugly. Nephara pressed. Loeher sent a goalbound shot directly into Wheater's groin, sending him hobbling off. Again, he took ages. Again, the home crowd vented their spleen. Someone threw a green flare at Cessair Meade, which again helped nobody; the goalkeeper took approximately four months to move it off the pitch.
Petra Anhope came on to try and build more forward momentum in midfield, a move which backfired; Nephara wound up missing Seona Gale's calm ability to stroke passes wherever needed. Astrid Swain proved a more effective move, and now Nephara seriously threatened down the right flank with the fullback's roving runs. But a goal proved elusive. A downward header from Kulesza denied by a magnificent save from Meade. A poor miss at the far post from Sebold. Ceatrix Serval arrived next, youth and exuberance aiming to achieve what old age and treachery could not; she was invisible.
The clock ticked on. NPH 1 - 2 BRE. The fans grew restless as passes continued failing to stick. And Brenecia were not without their own half-chances; given a fortituous bounce of a deflected cross in the box, Maerhen Wake should have made it three from close range, but smacked a shot against the upright.
It could always get worse.

Felixe Vetiver had been quiet outside of her goal, and growing frustrated. She had constantly shown for passes and not been picked up, the Cormorants overcorrecting and overthinking in an effort not to be overly predictable, and so their standout best player had been peripheral.
So her frustration was understandable when, in a rare moment in possession and in a dangerous area, she was dispossessed slickly by fresh substitute Cathal Reventas. What was not understandable was her reaction, a lunge to win the ball back. At knee-height.
Reventas' leg collapsed on itself, and the burly Northern Union midfielder crumpled. Brenecia manager Erin Camden swore on the bench, gestured quickly to Alyce Kearney to warm up before rushing to shout at the fourth official. Igrene Cantor, too, swarmed the official. In Nephara's goal, Longstreet shouted "FUCK" loudly enough that the pitch-side mic caught it cleanly.
The referee waved a yellow card. Cue a tumult. White shirts swarmed, while Brenecia's physios hustled onto the pitch; Reventas could not continue, as Slivka hastily warmed up on the sidelines. The referee pushed through the throng of players, pausing only long enough to book two players - seemingly at random, whoever was closest - for dissent, before racing to the pitchside monitor.
In Nepharan football, there is no VAR, and a widespread disdain for technology that ruins and slows down games. Much talk was made in the following days of how the incident was made to look worse than it was, and the referee endured torrents of abuse as he stared determinedly at the VAR screen, watching the challenge over and over again, slower and slower, different angles... four minutes passed, before he hustled back on-screen, made the TV screen mime, showed the yellow, crossed it out, showed the red. Felixe Vetiver was off. And, in truth, it was more than deserved for the legbreaker of a challenge.

Ten men, no time, and a desperate need for a goal. Lamia Tjaden arrived to spearhead the line, but she was a relatively inexperienced player, a rough diamond. Brehmer came, too, in the hope that his pace over the glacial Scales would help the Cormorants keep a high line.
Well, maybe it did. But this script was never ending well.
Tjaden almost scored with her first touch, a crisp half-volley palmed aside by Meade and cleared by Jeong, but that was as good as it got. And with Meade's next save - a routine one, smothering a distant shot from Sebold - she kickstarted an attack swiftly, booting the ball over the mob of shirts and out to Byrne on the wing. She made the most of acres of space, then slipped the ball forward to substitute striker Lowen Murdoch, who had grown up in Nephara himself. No split loyalties here, though, as he held the ball up manfully, awaiting fellow Nephar substitute Alyce Kearney's arrival, handing her the ball, and watching her drive in Brenecia's third with a sweeping strike and the outside of her boot.
That was the 89th minute, and the fourth official's board came up declaring eight minutes of injury time. Eight! A lot and a little; insufficient in the minds of Nephara's fans, given the long wait for Reventas, and the long VAR check, even though they'd occurred concurrently. Meade and the flare, though, and Briggs' concussion check? The game had been horrifically stop-start, and they were unimpressed. But there would be time for a goal, as Nephara tired and Brenecia, emboldened by their two-goal advantage, pressed to kill off the game. A free kick was won for handball in the middle of nowhere, particularly, and Byrne stepped up to take it, swept in a long, diagonal ball that seemed just to swerve away from any green shirt's path, and dropped perfectly for a thumping header from Hamish Jeong to rustle the net. Longstreet could have come out. She would be scapegoated in the coming days. They all would... save the untouchable Vetiver, cooling her heels in the changing room.

Days later, a much-changed Nephara broke the unbeaten run of an impressive, resilient Sea Dome. Lamia Tjaden scored, but it was still a somewhat laboured performance, as they all had been thus far. Had Cantor's reign reached its natural conclusion? Or would they, as she boldly, repeatedly hammered home to the press, peak when it mattered most?
If they kept swooning this way, they would not get the chance to.

[Recuecn]

Les Licornes have been putting in the hours at the training facility, where manager Bonheur Relié has refused to brook any slacking at all. There is hardly a moment's rest in his training regimen, and Relié is constantly mentioning what he calls "The Spirit of 83", a catchphrase he has adopted as a warcry for l'équipe nationale.

Relié has mentioned "The Spirit of 83" in television interviews, after matches, and above all, in the locker room, where he is always urging the players to give it their all, just like the team did during World Cup 83, when they qualified despite being entirely unranked. The players are starting to get sick of it, but the media is eating it up.

Due to the inevitable temporal inconsistencies that come hand in hand with any nation's involvement in NS Sports, a fair chunk of the current squad was in fact present during World Cup 83, and their coach's attempt to immortalize their own achievements rings a bit hollow. Plenty of the players vividly remember playing in World Cup 83, so Relié's panegyrics, in which he appeals to "The Spirit of 83" as if it were some abstract thing from some far-off time remembered only in legend, seem a bit out of touch.

However, Reçuecian fans have been loving the theme, and have started to bring "Sprit of 83" banners to Les Licornes' qualifying games. And the players themselves have been unable to argue against Relié's narrative, because the results have, in fact, surpassed expectations.

True, Reçueçn has only managed six points in five games, with three of their matches so far being draws. But when you look at who the opponents have been, that seemingly mediocre record starts to look incredible. Les Licornes admittedly opened their qualification campaign with a loss. But then they drew against the third seed, Naixi. Then, another draw, while playing away from home, against the group's second seed, Mytanija. And then, in a shocking upset, a three-one victory against the group's top side, Tikariot.

The points that Reçueçn has managed to score have not added up to a lot. But they've been taken off teams from the top of the group, which has kept the race in Group 3 tighter than any other. Reçueçn may only have six points and be third from last, but first place is only ahead by three, with nine points. And Bostopia, currently in last place, has four points, meaning the entire group is only separated by five points--less than two games.

The game against Tikariot was intense. Les Licornes enjoyed the home field advantage, playing in Reçueçn City at the Stade National, packed to its maximum capacity of thirty thousand fans. The supporters, knowing they were going to witness their team take on the toughest opposition Group 3 had to offer, brought a level of energy that hadn't been present at Reçueçn's only other home game, a scoreless draw against Naixi.

The Snowy Owls started aggressively, immediately pushing down the Reçuecian half of the pitch, trying to find an opening. For about twenty minutes, they launched shot after shot, keeping Reçuecian keeper Gerauld Firaut on his toes and forcing him to make several masterful saves. The gameplay was thrilling as Tikariot pursued opportunity after opportunity and put on a show that their fans, the "Dark Tide", must have greatly enjoyed.

Twenty-three minutes in, however, Oliver Spencer intercepted a cross from Morris Nighthorse with a perfectly placed header to Laurent Lapix, who turned on a dime to juke away from Charles Terzaghi, before the latter had time that the roles were flipped and he had to be covering Lapix now.

The Snowy Owls had fully committed to the high press on the attack, and Lapix, with a combination of speed and a series of beautiful touches, led the charge down the midfield before putting a through ball in front of Franky Adams who beat Tikariot's goalkeeper, Conrad Hurst, one-on-one with a beautiful chipped shot into the far upper corner. The entire counterattack had lasted maybe thirty or forty seconds, but it showed the danger that Tikariot could be in if they lost control of the ball while out of position.

The Snow Owls, however, continued to dominate possession, controlling the ball for most of the rest of the half, and continuing to threaten with strong attacks that forced Reçueçn's back line to stay back and keep vigilant. Whenever Les Licornes got the ball, on a goal kick or a lucky tackle, the Reçuecians would lose it in the midfield. There were two battles going on throughout the game: the Tikariotian forwards laying siege to Firaut and his wall of defenders, and in the midfield, two generals: Lapix for the Reçuecians and Charles Terzaghi for the Tikariotians, each side fighting to either alleviate or reinforce the attack against the Reçuecian goal.

Half-time rolled around, and Relié, sensing that his defenders were growing tired, subbed off Per Tegeler, replacing his winger with another center back, Quirino Lucian. Instructing Emanuele Cutrona to take on a sweeper role, he changed his line-up from a 4-3-3 to a 5-3-2, hoping that having an extra man in the back would help his defenders preserve some stamina and keep up with the Tikariotian onslaught. The Reçuecian forwards had been feeling like, since if they wanted to have a chance to get a touch of the ball, they had to fall back way out of position anyway. By shifting the line-up, Relié hoped his strategy would match more with what was actually happening on the field anyhow.

In the locker room, his half-time speech to the team certainly didn't have the tone one might expect from the coach of an underdog team currently up one-nil against their fiercest opponent. Instead, he came across as desperate and defensive, as if it was Les Licornes who were losing the game and trying their best to hang on for dear life. Relié's attitude certainly matched the feeling of the players on the field, who were starting to feel exhausted as they tried to keep up with the endless attacks.

The second half began, and it was not long before the Reçuecians lost their grasp on their one-nothing lead. In the fifty-second minute, Tikariotian coach Brian McAllister subbed on Elia Molyneux during a thow-in far up on the Tikariot left wing, taking Nighthorse off the field and replacing him with the quick-footed nineteen-year-old. Her youthful energy was apparent as she received the throw from Pierre Sukunda and outpaced the thirty-year-old Oliver Spencer to drive into the box, where she found Adrian Grimaud waiting on the far side of the net to tuck the ball into the goal before Firaut could get across in front of it. The Snowy Owls celebrated as Les Licornes grimly reset for the next kickoff, their chances now seemingly dissolving before their eyes.

But despite continued Tikariotian possession, the Reçuecians managed to adapt and found a way to hold off the high press. Relié took off Spencer, replacing him with Barnabus Mercer, and the back line reformed its defensive wall, protecting the goal from all angles, even as the Snowy Owls brought up more and more players to the attack, trying to find their win--and the priceless three points that would come with it--as the game entered its last half hour.

It was off the back of a goal kick that the Reçuecians finally built a successful attack of their own. Firaut kicked it short, going against the instinct to launch the ball as far down the field as possible, just to get it away and get the beleaguered defense a moment's rest. Firaut, instead, chose to retain more control, and tapped the ball to Cutrona who dribbled up the field to find Lapix in the center. Lapix, heavily guarded the whole game whenever the Tikariotians were on defense, sent the ball away to Raoul Lavigne and continued to push down the field. Lavigne, who'd struggled throughout the game to find any strong attacking vision against the Snow Owls, this time found Lapix, who'd managed to himself find some space the Tikariotians had mistakenly left him.

Lapix, who usually plays in a more defensive role, was forced once more to lead the charge himself, since there were now only a couple Reçuecian attacking players left on the field for him to work with. He dribbled past Terzaghi and Tanis Hemingway, demonstrating the skill that has earned him recognition as Les Licornes' player with the best ball-handling skills. Approaching the Tikariotian goal, he passed across to Lebo, who, as the Tikariotians shifted to guard him, tapped it back to Franky, who scored again.

The Reçuecian fans went wild. This was the second time Les Licornes had taken the lead, in a game where they had never been meant to. It seemed almost certain that Tikariot would manage to tie it up again, but even a draw against the 24th-ranked team in the multiverse was a good result, and with only about twenty minutes left in the game, there was a strong chance that Reçueçn would at least be able to hold their opponents to a tie, if not even maintain their two-one scoreline for the win.

That was certainly Relié's idea. From the technical area at the side of the pitch, he waved his players back, yelling "Défense! La défense!" Seeing that Les Licornes were not going to press the attack to try for more goals, the Tikariotians launched their assault once more. Now, as the game neared its end, the play became more physical, as they tried to brute force their way through the Reçuecian lines. Daniel Sankalin earned a yellow card for a brutal cleat to Lukas Kayserling's ankle. Kayserling, in pain, came off the field to be replaced by Jayson Compton. But the Reçuecians held firm.

Then, at the bitter end, it happened. A moment of glory from Les Licornes--a moment that would turn this unlikely upset into a statement. From somewhere, cohesion. Sure, it began with a counterattack again. But all the pieces worked together, the midfielders dancing around their opponents with a grace they hadn't been able to find all game long, the ball piercing through the Tikariotian back line just out of reach of the defenders, and then, running to meet it, Franky, who with a beautiful, arching shot, found the back of the net to earn himself a hat trick and ensure a Reçuecian victory.

The win is the only one so far in Les Licornes' qualification campaign, and the hope that it was the start of many great things was dashed when the next game was promptly drawn against unranked Bostopia. Group 3 is unique for two reasons: it is incredibly tight, but also the teams are in the schedule in order, so that each team plays its opponents from weakest to strongest and then looping back through again. Going from an unlikely upset against Tikariot to a disappointing draw against Bostopia was like cold water in the Reçuecians' faces, but as Relié has already been telling the media, "The Spirit of 83 lives on."

[Carpathia and Ruthenia]

Yak attack too much for leaky defence despite late fightback

Ottavia Lecce commiserating with subsitute Róza Crocetti after the post
robbed her of securing an unlikely point

Qasmanbashi, Yak Empire I may need to put in a name change request form to Cassandra, for it seems that I am cursed to see the future but not be believed, the defense weaknesses I highlighted truely came back to bite us in the you know what. Empires are known in history to crush their enemies and we certainly were given a taste of that.

This time we again seem to be following the same pattern and reverting back to our bad habits in a tale of two halfs, where if I'm being honest (and dear reader again I believe I have to be to be a voice for improvment) the scoreline flattered us more than it should have, and no more than in the first half with Oryaangabar scoring a fine brace for the Yak Empire running rings around our defensive back three, if not for another moment of individual brillance from Fabbri to bring us back to within a goal. However it was clearly the Yak Empire who were fired up for the second half with one presumes an fine half-time speech with Tsedinaat this time slotting home a brace to put the match out of contention for Carpathia and Ruthenia. Now I must be even-handed I was impressed by the resolve I saw from our players digging in and pulling us back to within a goal again in the dying minutes, and if perhaps I'm being patriotic saying that perhaps a post cruelly denied us an amazing comeback point. However in being even-handed I must point out that the Yak Empire also did take their foot off the pedal, given some of their less expirenced players have some time on the pitch, post or no post if they had wished to drive the dagger home they surely would have.

I really must re-iterate my call for our manager Lucia Kovács to re-think this attacking formation when we simply put aren't able to compete at the level yet, with only three at the back it's like we have swiss cheese at the back with our oppenents able to run rings around us, and often leaving us tired and vunerable in a second half, and with our midfield and even strikers having to keep tracking back to aid in the defensive effort.

Our next oppenent Cassadaigua after a stuttering start are now on the back of two 4-1 wins and are starting to show perhaps the begginings of a new golden generation like the two-time back-to-back championship squads of World Cups 50 & 51. I sincerly hope that we take a more cautious approach against this titan, otherwise I worry that a record defeat may be on our horizon.

By Margita Ongaro
CBC Ruthenia

..................Yak Empire 4 - 3 Carpathia and Ruthenia
Oryaangabar (18', 38'), Tsedinaat (47', 62') .......FT ...... Fabbri (45+1'), Acconci (75'), Pék (89')..........

[Brusseldorf]

This is my second RP for this cutoff, the first can be found here

The streets of Casablanca were alive with people. Abdelkader and Yasmine weaved through the sea of jerseys, and barely upright as I rounded all sorts of colourful folk, I did my best to tail them. I lost sight of them for a moment, as my attention was drawn to something soft underfoot. Stooping down, I discovered a misplaced wallet, the texture of its leather worn with time and travel, impressed now with the memory of the asphalt trampled. I opened it. The driver's license inside was from Aleirave. I glanced around, half-expecting someone frantically patting their pockets, but the sea of faces made it impossible to discern the lost wallet's owner. I tucked it into my pocket, thinking that perhaps after the game I could hand it over to lost and found. The crowd pushed me forward, and the wallet was forgotten again.

Finally, at the gates, I found my friends.

"Where have you been?" Abdel said. "We were worried about you!"

"What were you doing, we though you were right behind us?" Yasmin asked.

But before I could reply, a familiar face caught my attention. It was the fan from Aleirave. Approaching them, I extended the wallet with a smile.

---

MD6
Brusseldorf v Commonwealth of Baker Park

MD7
Hapilopper v Brusseldorf

[Tanirinthia]

Multiversal Sport Match Report

Category
Association football
Location
May 26 Revolution Memorial Stadium, Riuwiee, Abanhfleft, Universe M78D

Scoreline
Abanhfleft 2 [2] – [1] 3 Tanirinthia

Abanhfleft Scorers
Unknown - 17'
Unknown - 43'

Tanirinthia Scorers
Payne - 28', 90+2' pen, 90+7'

Archivist's Report
Travelling once again to an entire universe separate from our own but connected through sport will never cease to amaze me nor will it cease to upset my stomach. Perhaps the Abanhfleft fans will be feeling similarly queazy after giving away a soft penalty in injury time to grant Tanirinthia a way back into the game after their defence held firm for 64 minutes, and then making the unwise decision to press forward after this allowing Bridget Payne to finish her hattrick of hattricks and give Tanirinthia all three points of the match. This is now Tanirinthia's seventh consecutive win, and their ninth game since their last defeat (a 3-1 loss to Dantopia on home soil), I am worried that this abnormal spike in our performances is related to the abnormal spike in radiation levels we are seeing. [redacted] believes that if we can ride out the levels and continue our good results it will feedback into reducing levels, however only time and football matches will tell.

Post radiation levels
Remains outside normal parameters, what is concerning is the levels appear to be increasing exponentially

Archivist
William Fowler, Chief Secret Archivist

Clearance level
Gold

[Tikariot]

Raynard Lazenby reporting from Fort Viljan
Group 3 is widely considered one of the most difficult groups of the World Cup 95 qualifiers, and so far the results have proven this. On matchday 4, Tikariot was travelling to Reçueçn, who had taken a point off Mytanija already, so they were forewarned that this returning nation was not to be trifled with. The Stade National in Reçueçn City was electric with Les Licornes brimming with confidence after their Mytanija game.

From the get go, they faced intense pressure from the Snowy Owls, who dominated possession and launched attack after attack but time and again Gerauld Firaut managed to keep the ball out of the net. Despite Tikariot's relentless efforts, it was Reçueçn who took the lead with a beautiful counterattack that saw Laurent Lapix setting up Franky Adams for a brilliant goal, a chipped shot into the far upper corner, leaving Hurst without a chance. The Snowy Owl continued their pressure right after, but with the same results.

The second half saw a formation change by the hosts, when Bonheur Relié switched from a 4-3-3 to a 5-3-2 to counter Tikariot's relentless attacks and instead rely more on counterattacks where the guests had proved to be vulnerable in the first half. And not far into the second half, McAllister brought on young starlet Elia Molyneux for Morris Nighthorse to get a new, fresh impetus and it worked in dramatic fashion. Right after entering the game, she picked up a throw-in by Pierre Sukunda and left Oliver Spencer coughing in the dust before whipping in a sharp cross to Adrian Grimaud waiting on the far post, tucking the ball into the net ahead of Firaut.

To counter Molyneux's speed, Relié replaced Spencer with Barbabus Mercer, to strengthen their defensive wall and for a second time. Once again it was Lapix who led the attack when he picked up a ball by Cutrona and after a nice one-two pass with Lavigne dribbled past Terzaghi and Hemingway. Both Karlsbakk and Hurst expected him to shoot but instead he laid the ball off for Lebo, who pulled the defenders with him before tapping it back to Franky, who scored his second goal of the game.

Reçueçn pulled back like a turtle into its shell, awaiting Tikariot's angry attacks to salvage at least a point, but their shieldwall managed to deflect all shots and crosses that were aimed toward Firaut's goal. The game ramped up in intensity, including some physical altercations, culminating in Daniel Sankalin being lucky to have gotten away with a yellow card after sending Lukas Keyserling off the pitch with an open stud tackle. Just minutes from the end, however, the hosts launched one final counterattack, catching the Snowy Owls with too high of a line, allowing Franky to arch a shot over Hurst to score a hat trick and put the game to bed, sending the fans in the Stade National into a frenzy.

At the same time, Mytanija suffered a shock defeat in British Covelandia, Tikariot’s next opponent on matchday 5, making the loss at least slightly more palatable.

Fort Viljan’s Citadel of the North was presenting itself in its most hostile way, with frigid temperatures and dense snowfall that had been threatening the game going ahead before kickoff. This didn’t stop Tikariotian fans from filling the Citadel, creating a black wall against the snow. There were barely any away fans, whether due to a lack of numbers or the weather, but that didn’t change anything in the atmosphere in Fort Viljan.

Tikariot took the director’s stick from the get go, clearly having prepared for the weather, taking British Covelandia by complete surprise when Þorgríma Vigdis sent Magdalena Strandberg on a marauding run down the middle, using her speed and technique to slalom through the British Covelandian defence, chipping the ball over the keeper and into goal just two minutes into the game. It took British Covelandia over half an hour before they even made it to the Tikariotian box, but they did it with dramatic efficiency because the shot bounced weirdly and over the outstretched leg of Siobhan Harris, levelling the game. But only two minutes after, the Snowy Owls retook the lead when Robert Thorndyke circled a sharp cross into the box and Theophilas Stearas scored his first goal in the black-and-burgundy with a diving header.

The second half turned into more of a gamble than a football game with the snowfall becoming heavier. It started with a 15 minute delay as ground workers cleared the pitch from snow, but it quickly began to accumulate again, making the pitch ever more treacherous. After sixty minutes, a sharp freekick by Sérigne Ayanbadejo found Strandberg again, hammering the ball under the crossbar on the bounce. The second British Covelandia goal came from the second shot on goal and was a comedy of errors with both Leah Robbins and Spencer Jepson slipping, leaving the striker with a clear shot on goal.

What in the end made this win so important is the fact that Mytanija were held to a 1-1 draw against Zeta Reka and Hugeltaldom, leading to the Snowy Owls taking 1st place ahead of Dod Rava and Naixi.

---

The next three clubs under the microscope of our transfer analysis are Carathyr, Ceramadhion and Eivora.

The Emeralds, as we had mentioned before, were the source of the most expensive transfer the TPL has ever seen with a 15-million auranur move by midfield string-puller Þorgríma Vigdis Ástþórsdóttir to Chromatika. But she was not the only starter to leave Carathyr as centreback Merel van Pelt and Pilta-Oxolt Can also are looking for a challenge elsewhere. Pierre Sukunda has come in from Parakleion to take the next step forward. The other two spots will be filled internally, with Tanis Hemingway and Morgann Correndeaulx, who had very strong showings last season .

Ceramadhion were one of the biggest surprises of last season where they had been marked down as the number one candidates to go straight back down, but instead they showed amazingly strong showings. Now, one of the main reasons for the outstanding performances is gone, with Mytanar dual national Aljož Sešlar having followed the call of 1923 Esca, leaving very big shoes to fill. Lynx management hopes that their scouting of Basel-Triesen winger Nikolas Gaymayer proves to pay off to be able to translate his great performances in the Baptism of Fire to the TPL as well. Also gone is Darren Moriarty, who moved to Cardenao, with Patriotlandian Samuelle Savoie-Smith moving west from relegated Veriasod. But the Lynx also have brought on two players from Guillarim with Shawn Embury and Simon Arrowsmith, who will be bolstering the roster depth immensely.

Finally, Eivora Athletic’s main two departures are Cabo Azurean goalkeeper Zezé Sapateiro, who moved to the Vna-Chuhul Ravens, and Xoren Hammarskog, who had already lost his starting spot to Horymir Gafranek during the season, joining Morannon Athletic. Vanorian keeper Meline Sandanger moved the other way, coming in from Morannon to take over the starting role as keeper.

---

TikFlix announces new upcoming documentaries
The largest Tikariotian streaming service, TikFlix, has announced two brandnew documentaries coming up soon.

“Far From Dillis” tells a harrowing tale of displaced refugees of the different nations of Farfadillis, forced to flee their home country to escape the chaos of the civil war and chaos that has been plaguing the Arrosian island nation for the last few months, years, decades.

The other documentary is dedicated to the seedy underbelly of the tourism industry. “Club Ded” reveals the dark side of tourism and developments of new resorts and how they are run. Corporate entities disregarding environmental concerns, hundreds of workers dying, but everything is being swept under the rug.

[Eura]

WORLD CUP 95 QUALIFYING – GROUP 20 – MATCHDAY 4
Okoya 1–2 Eura
Scorers:
Sharp 44, Roberts 60
Lineup:
30. S Norman
2. A Mason (sub Lafferton 61)
4. J Menard (sub Grant 81)
19. M Pearce (sub Sherwood 90)
23. I Doherty
24. F Brown
8. O Vincent (sub Champion 55)
16. B Malone (sub Lambert 75)
20. T Roberts
9. A Sharp
14. K Archer

WORLD CUP 95 QUALIFYING – GROUP 20 – MATCHDAY 5
Eura 3–1 Kimi-suomi
Scorers:
Singh 15, 32, James 51
Lineup:
1. T Hammond
2. A Mason
4. J Menard
15. J Bedford (sub Phillips 64)
3. M Taylor
6. J Gates
8. O Vincent (sub Brown 53)
11. O James
7. A Woodman (sub West 74)
9. A Sharp (sub Miller 64)
10. S Singh (sub Holden 78)

---

Lights.
Camera.
Acti-
‘NO! Hold it, wait.’
Ilija Leskovar rattled the coffee table with his nervous fingers. He was channelling all the energy of a man who had done media appearances before, but suddenly felt the weight of the stakes at hand. And it didn’t help that his host was second guessing things either.
‘I told you the lighting wasn’t right. Can’t we move it around just once?’
An exhausted junior producer stepped forward to face their wrath. ‘Angela, this is the third time. We’re live in thirty seconds!’
‘Fine. Fucking amateurs. God. Ugh.’ Angela Pearson was the face of Brigham Live, the morning chat show that millions of Brighamites tuned into six days a week almost without fail. Southvision TV couldn’t put a price on having her at their disposal – even if it did mean putting up with some temper tantrums. The studio audience certainly didn’t seem to mind, continuing to chatter among themselves as they waited for the big show.

Ilija normally wouldn’t stand for people talking to ordinary workers like that. What he really wanted to do was give Angela a vocal scolding. But a face in the shadow just off stage was knowingly shaking from side to side, so the Social candidate for Brigham Manufactory took note, and stowed his irritation for now.
‘Alright, here we go. Twenty seconds.’
Ilija steeled himself. Its just bullshit early morning chat. Be friendly. Be cool.
‘Fifteen…’
Really hope I don’t get hiccups like the Capital guy last night. How embarrassing.
‘Ten…’
Don’t get ideological, don’t chest thump. Families families families. Breakfast. What do I do on a perfect Sunday?
‘Five…’
Five more years. Keep it high level on the national stuff – health, welfare, housing.
‘Three, two, one…’

The audience roared into life right on cue. Intro credits were rolling. Angela sat there, painted up and glossy like some kind of precious human vase, to be preserved and prized, waiting to talk while holding on to a forced smile that she made seem somehow natural.
‘Hiiiiiiiii, and good morning, Brigham!’
More cheering.
‘It’s lovely to see you again, and lovely to see our audience in here bright and early for another wonderful day in Eura’s finest city. What have we got for you today? Well, like the rest of the country there are many Brighamites tuning in tonight for the finale of the reality TV hit Would You Marry A Fish?. We’ll be talking to everyone’s favourite haddock botherer Lance Petunia about who he thinks has what it takes to win…’
Already the prospective MP was tuning out. He fell into this complacency for about ten seconds, then was shaken out of it by-
‘-and on the sofa, we have none other than the Social Party by-election candidate for Brigham Manufactory Ilija Leskovar!’

Noticeably less cheering.
Did it matter? A good question. Ilija had been reassured the audience was more representative of the brain-cell deficient population rather than the electorate. But the popularity of a show like this couldn’t be understated – it didn’t just court middle Eura, it crossed class divides and even language barriers. He could remember his family watching earlier iterations as a kid. He couldn’t remember the name, but some old guy who had preceded Angela by a presenter or two had basically taught his parents Euran/Terranean.
‘…later, we’ll be discussing the horrific floods in the Ferguson Islands, where thousands have been forced to leave their homes. And after that, it’ll be puppy-tastic here on Brigham Live, because our roving reporter Dennis Numtpon will be reporting from everyone’s favourite doggy sanctuary! Awwwhhh! Anyway…’
Right then he thought, time for the real shit.

‘Mr Leskovar – can I call you Ilija?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I’m going to start by asking you the same thing I asked your rivals from the Capital and Liberal parties – and your Unionist opponent when he’s on tomorrow – what’s your idea of a perfect Sunday?’
Ilija took a beat, his face contorted quizzically.
‘A perfect Sunday?’
‘Mmmhmm.’
‘…any Sunday, I reckon. Because this programme isn’t on.’
There was a pause that felt like a million years to Ilija. He had known this was how it would likely start, had prepped the gag without telling his team or anyone from HQ, and now he would find out if it made him look like a really funny guy or a complete twat.

‘…ohhhh you SILLY SAUSAGE!’
A huge wave of applause – thank fuck he thought to himself.
It was easy for a while after that ice breaker. He talked about his wife and kid – usually not something he liked to discuss publicly, but there had been a firm nudge from the party to open up a bit – his love of football, his favourite Mytanar dish, and whether it was true that his nine-year-old Anatoly was named after the famous Mytanar communist philosopher. He handled it humorously again, got a good laugh, avoided a median voter alienating moment and deftly neutralised the tabloid smear buried within the question. More than once, Angela spoke of how handsome he was and let out a carefully calibrated girlish giggle for the gossip rags.
But the substantial politics would come at some point, dressed up in the veneer of a warm and cuddly chat. This was ultimately a show that liked to switch between subjects as diverse as capital punishment and clown schools.
‘Ilija, how are you feeling about the tragic developments on the Manufactory estates?’

Like a bolt out of the blue, the Mum-sy assassin had dropped a bombshell. Fortunately, Ilija’s gifted ability to operate in the space between slick and genuine made it easy to react to the change in tone and move with it. It also helped that this really was something that he gave a shit about.
‘Yes, it’s terrible what’s been going on. We’ve had a spate of killings in our part of the city which, honestly, is like nothing I can remember. My heart goes out to all the families and-‘
‘Ok but Ilija, you’ve been on the metropolitan council for a decade, and your party run the city. They run the country. Don’t you think your actions should speak louder than words?’
A less able politician would respond with some stock crap they’d read the night before. A better one would argue the point, referring to statistics showing the Social government had improved the lives of hundreds of millions of Eurans in about the same time.
Ilija gave the answer of someone who wanted to win and knew how to get there.

‘Look, I’m in politics to get things done for my community. A Social-run Brigham has delivered thousands of new social workers, ten new rehabilitation centres for drug addicts in our first five years, a modernisation programme for the oldest high rise blocks. We want to go even further than that and I want to be a voice for our community in the place where we can have even more influence, because there’s no point sitting on the sidelines; the federal government under our party devolved the powers needed to make these changes. Because we know a lot of what is driving the crime, the organised crime, that leads to these gang conflicts, these deaths – it all comes out of deprivation that has maligned this city for a long time, all happening in the shadows of immense wealth concentrated in the centre of the city, holding back communities like mine from reaching their full potential. I know because I grew up in it. In one of the Manufactory blocks. Friends, family, classmates, I could talk all day about what poverty and violent crime does to you and those around you. You’re right though, we need to take more action to fix it, so that’s why I’m here.’

The party line and a consistent message, yes…but resonance too, with a dash of populist sentiment. He knew there would be a lot of people in his constituency-to-be that would be nodding along at home.
‘Ok, so you say turning around the area will stop this bloodbath-‘
‘-No, obviously, we need the resources to get on top of the organi-‘
‘-but isn’t there a kind of cultural question here, maybe?’
He couldn’t allow himself to roll his eyes or sigh on camera, but my oh my did Ilija want to.
‘Angela, I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Your opponents are saying that these crimes aren’t just happening in a vacuum, that its no coincidence that its Mytanar names we keep seeing in the headlines. Now, we here on Brigham Live believe in supporting all our communities-‘
Here comes the but…
‘-but don’t you think they could have a point? What would you say to such claims? We know the Unionist candidate will have plenty to say on this tomorrow.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Ilija could see the shadowed face in the background raise a hand to their face, stroking their chin just out of the limelight, gripped by anxious energy. This, in the view of the party, was Ilija’s Achilles heel, a point on which he could be fairly or unfairly pilloried from left to right whatever he said or did. The “law and order” question had been his biggest test when being vetted as a candidate and he had just about done enough to get by. It wasn’t fair that he had to deal with this shite just because of his name and where his parents were born. Nevertheless, “it is the way it is”, and he would have to overcome it, as Mytanars and other immigrant minorities did in many aspects of Euran life.
‘As I was saying, we need resources in the city to properly give the BMP what they need to get on top of this. Of course, I understand that in the short term you can’t just patch up a flat block here and build a youth centre there, you need to deal with the symptoms for a deep seated problem too.’

‘Then you agree there is a deep seated problem with certain communities?’
‘No – absolutely not, that isn’t what I said.’ His voice rose slightly but Ilija maintained a collected air of annoyance rather than succumbing to anger. ‘The deep seated problem is the injustices in our city, our country actually. Deprivation creates the incentives for crime, and a sense of hopelessness, that nothing is going to get better, that there’s no way out, that turns people to crime. The symptom is the horrible scenes we’ve seen on our streets recently. And if there’s any relationship between “certain communities”... let’s not beat around the bush, it’s often Mytanars being talked about and that is because the Euran-Mytanar community in our city have been held back, and they’ve been cut out of the social justice that everyone should be able to expect. I want to change that, we want to change it. I’ve said we absolutely need to fix those deep seated problems, and we’ve made a lot of progress so far and we need to – intend to - go further.’
‘And in the meantime-‘
‘We are going to get more police on the streets and get the federal funding we need, the federal involvement we need to break the gun smugglers. That’s the symptom fix, if people here today and at home vote for me they’ll get that and more.’
‘…well, thank you Ilija, a spirited answer! I’m afraid we have to move on now, but it’s been lovely to talk to you…’

Off stage a slightly sweaty Ilija necked a small water bottle in nearly one go before an excited hand grabbed his arm. He immediately spilled the remaining water all over himself.
‘Lucy, fuck, can you not sneak up like that?!’
‘Sorry!’ The chirpy intern he’d been relying on for months was now a part time employee of his office (either side of university classes). ‘You were really good! I loved it. Did I tell you my brother fancies you? He’s been watching like a hawk from home.’
‘I- really? Huh. Maybe uh…its very kind of him, very flattering. He’s still barking up the wrong tree.’
‘I told him exactly that!’
‘Better than your mother I suppose.’ Lucy’s phone made a “boop” sound and she glanced at it with widened eyes. Ilija’s throat tightened. ‘Social media reaction? What’s the mood like?’
‘No, he’s just sent me a gif of you two riding a horse together.’
‘Oh for-‘
‘Ilija!’

Laura Collier emerged from the shadows to give him a second shock within a minute. ‘Laura, good to see you. Thanks for coming today.’
Every campaign needs a bastard.
‘Its not like I needed an invite. I’m just glad you didn’t shit the bed.’
She would do.
‘Thanks’ he replied with more than a hint of sarcasm, ‘it’s your vigorous declarations of confidence that get me out of bed every morning.’
‘Aha. Very good. Anyway, let’s talk business…’ Laura gripped his other arm and towed him out of earshot of the crew. A few lackeys had been tacked on to Ilija’s campaign by the Brigham Social Party, yet none of them had the impact or ominously powerful connections of Laura. He didn’t need to make too many calls to find out that she sent by the national leadership themselves. It less clear who specifically she reported to and what her exact agenda was, beyond winning the by-election.
It was clear that she was, effectively, a babysitter.
Ilija wasn’t a prideful person. He could put up with being head-patted by someone like this if they had something to offer, just as long as they didn’t try to make him into someone he wasn’t.

‘What is it?’
‘Snap data – EurGov, Brigham Monitor, SwingBase.’
Ok then he thought, this is either going to be the hairdryer treatment or a pat on the back.
‘Ok, we’ve got a focus group insta-reaction from the Monitor and polling from EurGov and SwingBase. The polling is…well, you’ve broken even. You’re down one point with SwingBase. And the focus group responses are solid, apart from a couple of people thinking you might nick their wallet. Which we’ve come to expect by now, so!’
Lucy, tagging along, perked up from behind Laura. ‘That’s good right? That’s definitely good?’
Ilija shrugged and played it down. ‘I mean, I’d rather be energising the voters than making them go “uh-huh” and turning out by default.’
‘That would make sense if you were an outsider, Ilija. These numbers are good. You’re supposed to be defending a fifteen point lead against an insurgency, for a party in office at national and local level. I really did mean it when I said I was happy you hadn’t shat the bed.’ He found it strange when Laura said that. He had felt like an outsider throughout his professional life. Even if her point was valid, he felt like this wasn’t the time to rest on his laurels.

‘Do we think the Unionist is going to make up ground with his turn on the show?’
‘Eh, maybe. Nothing to worry about though.’
‘Maybe? Laura, we can’t be dismissive. He’s going to rile up the Daily Falcon reading dregs with all this anti-Mytanar shit.’
‘Yeah, and you know what? It’ll make him look crazy, he might gain a couple of points with people who won’t turn up on polling day and you’ll be home and dry. As for Angela, I know she’s a piece of work, but she’ll get queasy if he goes down that route too hard, and no-one wants to get in an argument with her on air before a segment about dollhouses for kittens or whatever. You did good and unless that racist fuckstick suddenly cures his catastrophic intellectual dysfunction, he’s not going to be able to pull anything tomorrow that closes the gap.’
Ilija was tapping his fingers again, this time on the hairs running up the back of his neck. His uncertainty was sticking. ‘I really think I should do another TV thing. Or radio. What about something football?’
‘No, fuck no! Don’t put a rosette on the beautiful game. People fucking hate it. Just do what you’re doing and if anyone tries to paint you as Red Ilija, just pop over to the EDS plant and do a photoshoot in an attack helicopter. And then you won’t have fucked it, and then I won’t have to flay your skin as punishment and send it to Bastion. Doesn’t that sound nice?’

[Vdara]

Hot, Hot, Hot

Previously, on ‘Vdara’:
“Nevertheless, the Vdarans were enjoying every minute of football they were playing so far, and would continue to do so. Simply being back in the saddle again was enough for most fans to be pleased. Anything afterwards? Well, that’s a bonus.”

With results coming in the way they were, people were beginning to get the impression that Vdara might be rather good at this football thing. Of course, people expected them to put up a good fight, but not as good a fight as “beating the second seed away from home”. Not even the Oracle could foresee such an event occurring, nor did it foresee what would happen the very next game…

Game 4: Vdara v Acastanha

As if the victory over Christchurchon hadn’t already got the VdarArena rocking, the stunning display against Gnejs had really set the bar high, and the fans could not be any more excited to see what else the Vdarans had in their locker - and neither, it turned out, could Markos Moustakakos.

”Afternoon, ladies and gents. Honestly, after the last game, I haven’t got much to say beyond ‘keep it up’, ‘impress the fans’, and ‘stay organised’. These guys, the Acastanhadas? They’ve absolutely bossed the Mandalanusa Cup, they’ve made the playoffs, and they’re an all-round well-drilled side - but there’s one thing I have noticed about them, and it’s that they’re a very attack-oriented side. I mean, I’d like to think that we’re pretty attack-minded, but these guys just love to play the high line, to press other teams’ defences, and a lot of the time that lets them punish sides that make mistakes - but it also invites pressure onto them, counter-attacks, and just leaves them pretty vulnerable in general. There’s a good reason why they’ve got a goal difference in the negatives, and despite the disparity in rank, I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t help to put a dent in that, if you know what I mean. Just do your best out there, folks!”

3’ Lambros Tantalopoulos (early capitalisation on Acastanha’s high press)
21’ Katerina Stylianou (net-busting volley from set piece, top right corner)

Timoteo Regendi (well-worked attacking move, sidefooted into net) 44’

Halftime: Vdara 2-1 Acastanha

58’ Chirstoforos Lazelis (simple counterattacking play leads to simple goal)

David Gothrado (powerful strike from edge of the box) 73’

Star Players + Ratings (Stats):

Lambros Tantalopoulos: 8.8 (2 G/A, 4 big chances created)
Chirstoforos Lazelis: 8.1 (1 G/A, 6 pass interceptions)
Timoteo Regendi: 7.3 (1 G/A, nutmegged Manousos Athanas)
Katerina Stylianou: 7.0 (1 G/A, 1 goal-line clearance)

Another famous night at the VdarArena had come to an end, and the home team were the ones leaving with the spoils of victory; all three points, and increased momentum. As he exchanged some kind words and shook hands with his Acastanhada counterpart, the Oracle’s seemingly unrelated yet prescient words rang in his ears once again.

Crowds will cry when they see,
Endless goals upon goals.
Notice commencements, and notice halts.
All your peoples count on you.

Now, there was a strong chance that he’d simply forgotten which game this referred to - in his infinite wisdom, he had written down every prophecy on a napkin and somehow decided not to write down the nation it corresponded with - but he took particular notice of the last line. Who were these “peoples”? Was it the players? The fans? The entire country? The Oracle, whilst being forever vague, remained forever thought-provoking; forever insightful. Markos was grateful to have its backing for the timebeing, but the thought lingered in his mind - for these prophecies, he had offered the Oracle a pitiful empty crisp packet. It had accepted, of course, but he wondered when, just like the empty crisp packet, the Oracle would finally grow tired of him, and toss him aside, leaving his side to flounder like the Persians at Salamis. He thought better than to continue thinking of such things, and instead chose to celebrate with his players.

Game 5: Covelandia vs Vdara

Fun Fact: The Persians were lured to Salamis by Themistocles, who fooled them into believing that they, the Greeks, would be the ones to be disorganised, and not the Persians. Much like this, the unassuming Republic of Covelandia, without a roster to be seen, fooled Markos into thinking this game would be an easy ride. Thus, instead of having another Themistocles moment, he had more of a Croesus moment - just as all of Croesus’ wealth had made him exceptionally hubristic, Vdara’s recent form had made Markos overconfident. Nevertheless, he was lucky this overconfidence was against Covelandia and not, say, Quakmybush.

With five games played and only nine to go, the halfway point of the qualifiers was fast approaching. Vdara sat in an impressive third place in the group, but this was no time at all to start resting on their laurels, especially not with the group’s current top two - Quakmybush and Tumbra - awaiting them. Regarding the former, they had played each other on no less than four separate occasions, with the Vdarans emerging as the victors every single time, including a famous nine-goal thriller in World Cup 87, where a late Kimon Karalas stunner hoisted them ahead to win 5-4. Regarding Tumbra, however, the two sides had never met, and with the Black Eagles in the form of their life, there was a general feeling that the tie between the two at the grand-yet-unnervingly-imposing Nantwich Stadium would be one to keep a close eye on. If they could tank the high-flying Quakmybush 3-0, only the Gods could know what punishment awaited the Vdarans - so they were consulted.

An amphitheater plays the host
To a battle looked forward to most
Two competitiors, full of pride
Stand with balls, not swords by side

Upon the rise of evening sun
From the two emerges one
A grand old team will have its fall
Whilst the other stands firm and tall

Blackbirds screech, may Lions roar
Or perhaps, the Eagles soar?
Awaits these mortals, the strongest test
Only we know who is best

[Beefsteak City]

Mayor Tom Ato was sweating profusely in his front-row seat at the meatpacking plant as Beefsteak City prepared to face Mertagne.

His assistant, Carey Leclerc, dabbed at him yet again with an ultra-absorbent silk cloth. "I know all the meatpacking machines are running, but it's not that hot, it is,"

Ato hissed back at the young assistant, "Look, I'm under a great deal of stress here," although given his tomato-red complexion, that wasn't necessary to say."

"Are you worried about the game?"

"Of course not. It's just a silly little kick-and-giggle."

"Are you worried that somebody will get hurt by the meat machines?"

"Now that's just plain stupid. You know I don't give a damn about workplace safety."

"Finishing the stadium?"

"Have you seen it? It's a concrete masterpiece. Like Michelangelo himself carved it. No sweat."

"Are you worried that there will be a disruption to the productivity?"

Ato whipped his head towards Carey. "Well, now I am! Why the hell would you say something like that?" He started dabbing at the excess sweat with his suit jacket. "Burger me!" Obliging, Carey handed him a thick, juicy hamburger that Ato began to scarf down, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Okay, what is it?"

Ato leaned towards Carey and discreetly pointed to a couple of men in suits across the way. "Sources tell me that those men have contacts with higher-ups in the Mertagnian government. After the game, I'd like to send someone after them to see if they need an arms manufacturer dealer to help us with their war effort against Bostopia."

"That's a bold political stance for us to take!"

Ato scoffed. "It's not about the politics. It's just a good, sensible contract. It's good to learn," he turned, clapping Carey hard on the shoulder, "everything has a price. And I am very much for sale."

The two teams finally ran out onto the factory floor. Mertagne looked crisp in their purple kits, yet bewildered; Beefsteak City looked less professional and more out of shape, but familiar and determined.

Ato sat up suddenly. "Oh, there's the Maddox boy! It's about time."

"Where was he?"

Ato shook his head. "You know, the airports in these third world countries—"

"You mean, Juvencus."

"Yes, them—they lose luggage, put people on wrong flights, it's all a mess. Anyone I guess someone directed him onto a flight with another team."

"And he was gone for that long?"

"Listen," Ato snapped and put a finger up, "we got that boy back promptly. We sent a private jet as soon as we learned about his whereabouts. This team is a well-oiled machine."

"They already gave up a goal," Carey pointed out, as Lewis Travers celebrated with his team and Jack Price looked confused - and partially scared by the meat slicer behind him. Michael Maddox looked equally out of sorts, and obviously out of practice.

"Hey!" Ato shouted at his employee and coach, Jerome Salisbury. "I have a very important arms deal to propose after this game. Do not embarrass me or I'll have you all evicted! Good luck finding a stockroom to cram into!"

To their credit, they didn't. Mertagne was clearly the superior team, but they struggled with the conditions of the makeshift pitch and John Collier scored two goals to keep the game a close 3-2 affair. Ato would rather have come from a position of power, but that really wasn't too shabby.

Ato prodded Leclerc. "Go. Tell them I'd like to request a meeting with them."

"Sir, you don't even know that they're in any way connected to—"

"Carey, I am having a heart attack as we speak. Please let's get this meeting over with before I get it checked out! Go!"

[Kandorith]

Hikari Kyoyu

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Illuminating Today

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World Cup

Mekahari Exceeds Expectation, KFA Takes Spotlight With Press Conference
by Natsumi Miyasaki | Sports - Football |

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The Kandorese football team has racked up thirteen points in five matches now, with four wins and a single draw. With seventeen goals scored, the Kandorese have started the qualifiers with a dream tour. Drawing against Xanneria with a solid 2-2 would be followed by the second nine-goal match for Mekahi, a 6-3 victory against Semarland. While the national team is performing well, the attention of the fans went elsewhere: a long-awaited press conference from the KFA.

As KFA president Kazuki Nakamura took the stage for the announcement, the focus of attention was clearly the managerial position of the national team. The press conference also hinted towards the return of a well-known name among fans and the general public, Kaya Michiyu.

Takeshi Kurosawa took the reins of Mekahari in the current qualification campaign but already dropped hints that his appointment as manager was a temporary role. With the Kandorese team now performing excellently, the question arose: should they continue with Takeshi Kurosawa? Nakamura stated that Takeshi Kurosawa's role was indeed temporary, and he will fill the role of the assistant manager once again after the two upcoming matches against Farfadillis and Polar Islandstates. While Kandorith is gearing up for the upcoming games, Nakamura has stated that Kaya Michiyu will be returning to take control of the Kandorese team once again.

Michiyu has been absent for unknown reasons. The long-time and successful manager was also named as the first choice among the official staff before the qualifiers started. While Nakamura did not specifically name any reasons for Michiyu's absence, the hint of personal affairs and situations playing a role in it was clear. Michiyu was not present for the press conference, but a recent post on Sync from the esteemed manager already confirmed their return.

Takeshi Kurosawa will still be leading the two upcoming games fully, but Kaya Michiyu will be standing on the sidelines again if the current rumours are indeed true. Furthermore, Michiyu has already said there will be more information on the happenings around the national team's selection as well. While Kandorith is preparing for, maybe, two very crucial games, will this drama have an effect on the national team's performance?

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Group 6                                       Pld    W   D   L    GF   GA   GD   Pts 
1 Kandorith                                    5    4   1   0    17    9   +8    13
2 Farfadillis                                  5    4   1   0    10    5   +5    13
3 Darmen                                       5    3   0   2    10    9   +1     9
4 Xanneria                                     5    2   2   1     9    7   +2     8
5 Semarland                                    5    2   1   2     8   11   −3     7
6 Basel-Triesen                                5    0   3   2     7    9   −2     3
7 Polar Islandstates                           5    0   2   3     4    7   −3     2
8 Sarzonia                                     5    0   0   5     6   14   −8     0

---

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Lifestyle

Cybernetic Art for a Cybernetic Future
by Keiko Gadgeta | Technology |

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"Step into my parlour", said the spider as you traverse into a dimly lit back alley of the sprawling metropolis Tenkyo. Neon lights shine brightly against the night sky, and commercial holograms reach towards the clouds. However, here, in this alleyway, there is barely any light, only the half-broken shop light of a shady tattoo and cybernetics parlour. This is the domain of underground pioneers and daredevils who seek to augment and alter their bodies to the extreme. These are the people who bring a whole new meaning and idea to the term "living canvas".

In the heart of Tenkyo's oldest district, Higakito, a very lively and secretive subculture walks through the vibrant streets of the diverse heart of the capital. The whispers of the "Circuit Dreamers" are not just an urban myth, but very real people who took modifications of their bodies to the extreme. Far away from government-licensed protocols and safety laws, these people walk the edge between human and machine every single day.

The attendees of these parlours and bars are completely adorned with cybernetic augments, complete body mods, and even synthetic skin, showing the world who they really are. Some of the Circuit Dreamers even have neon text and effects rippling through their upper skin, making a statement to anyone who glances at them. These effects dance across their bodies, expressing how they feel. Some would say these people took it a step too far, but others, like them, see their bodies as true works of art.

These movements had been sprouting up in Kandorith lately, challenging societal norms about the human body and sparking conversation and debate about the thin line between human and machine. The Circuit Dreamers were one of the more extreme variants of these cyber-enthusiasts, wanting to show the world that one could be completely augmented without going "psycho." Speaking to Namuri Kitakura, a patron of the well-known Phage-bar, she told us, "While normal people live their boring lives on the streets, crawling around like rats, we find our true colours in the dark and in completely improving ourselves." The movement was a mixture of extreme transhumanism and rebellion against Kandorese society. Some would call them true cyberpunks.

Whether it was a form of avant-garde rebellion against societal norms or a dangerous human experiment, there was no denying that Circuit Dreamers were a true subculture walking the streets of Tenkyo. They left a cultural mark and piqued interest across the nation, as nearly anyone would know who the Circuit Dreamers were. While they were mostly known for being an underground movement, modern-day fashion had been venturing towards their aesthetics and feelings of becoming more in tune with the future that awaited us.

[The Kytler Peninsulae]

This, my 1,093rd forum post, had to at least try to be special. Needless to say, it takes the form of an audio RP, in this case from KBT's pre-match coverage of the Kytlerian MD6 clash with Delaclava, presented by Nigel Stone with punditry from George Wilson.

Crowd noise can be heard in the background as Stone and Wilson are pitchside.

NIGEL STONE: Welcome back, we're about 20 minutes from kickoff here in Delaclava, and one of the big talking points of late has been just what Kytlerian soccer actually should look like. Is there an identity for this team, or indeed for this country, on the pitch? Is it a problem if there isn't? Or if it's fluid and fragile? Exploring that big question is Andrew Charlton.

The music here is the introduction to "Crunch" by LazyKitten21.

ANDREW CHARLTON: So we're back. Kytler's back. A country that has been defined by its relationship to international sport is firmly participating in it once again. But who are 'we' in this context anyway? A country of 22 million people called The Kytler Peninsulae, most of whom live on neither of them. That's quite the contradiction to start with. And it's the first of many.

The music ends and the camera cuts to - and a caption identifies - Dr Dings Whootung, of Project KAT (Kytlerians All Together), a research and consultancy group that describe themselves as "on a mission to understand our country and what divides us, and find the common ground that can bring us all together."

DR DINGS WHOOTUNG: In some ways the Kytlerian nation is almost like ten smaller states in a trenchcoat, but that's not - mostly not even a geographical divide in the traditional sense, more a case of several different, distinct migration waves that have integrated really - it's not been awkward in the sense of social tension or violence in recent decades at least, but each of these different groups have kept their own identities, ways of living, ways of speaking, and there's not been the sort of blurring of lines you might expect from a peacefully integrated country.

Music returns.

AC: To say the Kytlerians are united by sport is no less true for being a stereotype. But the country's peaceful yet clear division is still a major factor when it comes to national teams.

Music ends again. Camera cut to and caption identification of Professor Roger Sanderson of the Margaret Institute.

PROFESSOR ROGER SANDERSON: You have the different groups in this country with their own mix of sporting interests and even body types to an extent - the Icelanders tend to be bigger and drawn to power sports like weightlifting and gridiron, obviously in Varn you get more gridiron, and for the most part soccer is played by more endurance athlete types with some crossover with triathlon and distance running, but then the Græntfjallers are often big power athletes playing soccer, and so you often get mismatched pieces in teams and the focus has often been on individual sports more anyway.

Music returns, a different section this time. The images here would be footage from a Kytlerian team training session.

AC: With a national team to build from scratch, the ideas from the top domestic teams may not work in the same way.

Camera cut to and caption identification of Edward Robinson, manager of Roddens City - who won the last fully domestic National Soccer League (NSL) title last season.

EDWARD ROBINSON: Most of the top teams in the NSL are playing a possession or high pressing game, 4-3-3 or 4-2-3-1, trying to control the game - and that's difficult to do when you face elite opposition and you almost - need to adapt a small-team mentality again when you've been used to something else, it's an adjustment period to go to - nobody seems to want to admit that sometimes your best way to win the game is to low block, win set pieces on the counter, get it to a BFG at the far post.

One more section of music, this time from the ending.

AC: And this leads on to the other part of the Kytlerian soccer identity question. Can the Kytlerians ever themselves become one of the elite, in a sport where the barriers to do so are higher than any?

PROF RS: To an extent there has almost been a self-fulfilling image in the past that the Kytlerians can compete quickly in anything except soccer, and it will be interesting to see if that changes in terms of just - being entrenched in the international ecosystem again, international players in the NSL this season, if the league can gain new attention and develop that can be a rising tide that lifts all boats and also the creative tension of what works in the league could almost be - where the team identity could come from when domestic leagues have their own environment or meta if you like, that can be the inspiration.

Return to the pitch, and hence the crowd noise.

NS: Fascinating stuff. George, obviously you played in an era where international play wasn't even really considered and it was all about domestic success which you had a lot of (251 NSL appearances and three titles with Capitolians), how difficult do you think it would've been for you as a player to shift like this generation are doing?

GEORGE WILSON: I do think it's difficult because if you commit to playing your own way, like Edward said, it's a completely different kettle of fish when you face a top-50 team, you can set about controlling possession like (manager Andrew) Patterson has but if you're trying to do that against players who are just better than you, they do win the ball, they do push forward mercilessly and you just can't slow the game down whether you want to or not, so sometimes you just have to be more pragmatic, but if you've been playing for one of the top NSL teams like I did you do get used to having possession and playing that kind of game.

NS: Do you think that long-term the Kytlerians are going to end up with this possession-based style, or will it be something else?

GW: I definitely think it'll change over time, like the Professor said, the ideas are going to be forged out of the domestic game, and now the NSL is getting international players trickling in I think that's going to reinforce that, I'm very excited to see how it evolves and I think maybe the most important thing is for our youth player development to focus on tactical flexibility so that whatever approach we do end up taking, we're not wedded to for one managerial cycle and then the next boss comes in and changes everything and it goes pants.

[Farfadillis]

Kigagana. He'd been sent to Kigagana of all places. The Banijans knew he could be a dangerous political player but Kigagana was really overdoing it. Some rural mountainous town almost nobody lives in. To top it off, Lolong fucking Bokate, one of the guys who'd given him the worst PR in the S-FPL, hailed from there. They viewed him as a hero without equal. There weren't any other Farves in Kigagana, besides Ruperto, who was now off to Busukuma for his thirteenth plastic surgery.

Ruperto had been turning out a remarkably savvy protégé. Terán had been pleased to find out that, despite having been a member of Banija's ruling leftist coalition, he had actually read and taken in a lot of Anselmo Olivera's political philosophy. Over the months following their exile to this forsaken town, he'd put him up to speed and taught him a trick or a million. Four decades spent at the highest echelons of politics come with a lot of knowledge. Things you learn on the fly. Ruperto already knew a lot, but he'd been picking up a lot more. He'd be a worthy successor for his vision of Farfadillis, even if he really had his work cut out for him.

By cagafuegos, though, he still could not believe this was how he would see out his final years, however many they would be. He'd been a top-tier athlete and he'd stayed in shape his whole life. He'd managed to stay fairly stress-free despite the hazardous nature of... absolutely everything he'd had a hand in over the past forty years. But he was seventy-nine. Time was running out. Realistically, he'd at best see Ruperto replant the seeds of Oliverism in Farfadillis. With some luck, he'd find out some of the seeds had sprouted. There were no guarantees except that death would come, and soon. And in Kigagana. He was not getting out of this one, he'd come to realize. Shity food and a shitty mountain range to look at all day while he trained Ruperto. He'd finished his memoir within five weeks of arrival, and he was never the polishing type. He really had nothing to do here but whither away and die, not knowing if his life's project would ever come to fruition. Deep down, he knew it was unlikely it wouldn't. But he had no other choice.

He stared out the window of his run-down cottage, expecting to find unremarkable boredom in the green grass and the unmoving mountains. And he did, for now. It was about to get very windy outside, he was sure. He could feel it in his skin. Sometimes his body just had a way of sniffing out danger, almost magically. Hopefully, the dreadful excuse for housing the Banijan government had given him would put up with a windy day. Not much he could do about it, especially at this age, one way or another, anyway.

Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ

Death, as a concept, has been depicted in so many ways by so many cultures it's just impossible to count, or find a pattern, even. That day's depiction would've been rather unremarkable. Young man in his thirties, with somewhat reddish skin, fairly attractive features and distilled resolution covering his face. If one had stared more inquisitively, with a lot of attention to detail, an odd dose of unhingedness would've risen to the surface, almost unnoticeable. Something in his eyes did not just look resolute. Something looked off.

Death had been told to stop him. Death had been asked to stop him, by something that never really asked for anything. Cryptically, of course, but Death could put together hints in ways nobody else could. He couldn't quite square why he'd been given a red herring. Figuring out he would be in Kigagana instead of Busukuma would've been easy if he hadn't been fed false information. This was not Death's style, but Death was making an exception. Death did wish, however, someone had made this exception far sooner.

Every step Death took was imbued with meaning. Every step towards him was one step closer to irreversible change. Nobody would ever find out how Terán died, or indeed that it was Death that took him, but that day would reverberate in history, the ripples and breezes produced by it one day becoming tsunamis and hurricanes. Death was, as he would later find out, about to make a grave mistake. One it would take him very, very, very long to fix.

But it was time. It was long overdue. If Death had known this was not the most pragmatic way to go about things, he would've done it anyway. It had to be done. Sometimes justice has to be carried out regardless of consequences.

Death spiraled his way towards the house, so as to avoid the window he could spot him from. He took the long, meandering Rulandese path around. It was only fitting.

He knocked on the door, weapon in hand, then waited.

Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ

Alex Terán was not startled. Surprised, perhaps, but not startled. Maybe some lovely Banijan neighbor wanted to offer him some dreadful food they'd made to make him feel more at home. Maybe one of his guards had decided not to skip today's duties because of the national holiday celebrating whatever the Banijans were celebrating. He had a protocol to follow, though, as much as he despised it.

"Who's there?" He shouted, sat deep into his sofa, comfortable enough to almost suck him into it. This new life had its perks, he thought for a moment.

Silence.

"Who's there?" He shouted again, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. He could feel the wind surge. His skin crawled.

"The Wind." He replied in Olusanke. Terán breathed a sigh of relief. Some Banijan making a stupid quip about the wind. Maybe they needed some shelter.

"Come on in, door's unlocked," Terán said, absent-minded. Visits were typically annoying, but he was past the point of caring.

The door opened and in Death came. Wearing an overcoat, looking unassuming. Terán stared him in the eyes. He needed not a second to understand what was going on.

He chuckled. "... claro, obvio. Obvio que iba a terminar así." He facepalmed, breaking into a fit of laughter he could barely contain. "¡Qué pedazo de imbécil! Pensando que me quedaban algunos añitos cuando hay una peste como vos merodeando por todos lados... me lo merezco."

"You don't get the honor of having your last conversation be in Faroleran." Death replied in perfect Olusanke.

Terán looked Death in the eye, somber. He was starting to take it in more fully. He did not want to go. Both of them knew it. "Indujaniha?" He asked, curious.

"Not Indujan either, no. You don't get the honor of having your last conversation be in any Farf language."

Terán crossed his arms, intrigue momentarily overtaking the small hints of fear in him. "Fine by me. This conversation means nothing to me, anyway. My legacy has already died," he hoped he was lying with that last part, that Ruperto Fôx, a half-Rulandese, of all people, could see some of his vision through. "Plus, I get the feeling I'll barely get a word in, anyway."

"Seems non-sensical, doesn't it?" Death wondered aloud. "You're a non-threat here. You've been fully neutralized. I've heard you're even putting up with the local cuisine."

"I am." Alex chuckled. "It's not good."

"I can imagine," Death paused. "Yet... someone has not-so-subtly hinted at me that I have to take you out now. The sooner, the better. I don't get it. I don't get what you could possibly be orchestrating from here. How you could be a threat at your age. But I cannot risk it."

Alex looked shocked, tried to hide it and failed.

"So it's true, huh. I have to kill you here and now. I haven't pieced together why, but I'm sure I will in time. Alex, you have my word. I will personally see to it that everything you worked so hard for amounts to absolutely nothing. The history books, if not burned, will say you were the worst that Farfadillis ever had to offer and that your legacy was fortunately annihilated before it could even have a chance to take shape."

Alex gulped. "Credit where credit is due. This is the most threatened I've ever felt. And it's not because you're about to kill me with that..." he gestured towards what Death was holding in his right hand, "whatever that thing is. I can do nothing now except spend the last conversation of my life hoping you will fail."

"I will not. You have my word."

Alex nodded. It was impossible not to feel some respect for Death when it has so thoroughly bested you, as much as you may fear him.

"This thing? It used to be a knife. Now it's just the handle." Death explained.

"Feel free to tell me the story behind it, if you think it changes anything. Maybe some Banijan guard will get here while you waste your time."

"I have accounted for everything. There is nothing that can save you. This is it."

"I figured." Alex lied. His last flicker of hope was gone and you needed only to look him in the face to tell. Death did and his expression did not change.

"The actual blade I burned long ago, as is customary in Induja for an instrument of death. It's been twenty-five years since I melted it. I kept the handle, as a reminder that life is fickled, and it can be gone in an instant."

"Or it can instead not, and segue into a boring, long conversation. Just do us both a favor and shoot me. You've found out I'm up to something. The sooner the better." Alex replied, trying to get a rise out of him.

But Death kept calmly explaining his rationale. "My father cut his finger with this blade. Work accident. Back then, in a place like Mandalanda, you could only wait and hope after an accident like that. The nearest working hospital might as well have been in Farolera. He died. I was ten. I was hardly the only child with one or even two dead parents, but my father's death has been a splinter stuck in the very middle of my frontal cortex, guiding many of my decisions. My father's death? It was your fault. Way before the war. You have millions dead to your name, and millions more displaced. You've been at the center of untold tragedy. I am doing this because I was asked to and because you pose a threat. But, having thought about it, I would've done it anyway someday. At some point, the splinter in my brain would've snapped and told me in no uncertain terms to just fucking kill you... or somebody else would beat me to it."

Death's tone had shifted during his monologue. It had gone from calm to infuriated, hitting a crescendo. Alex stared at him. "So in the end what does me in is a dumbass cutting his own finger and fucking bleeding out?" He burst into unhinged laughter. "Pathetic. Your father was pathetic, and I'm glad he got weeded out of Farfadillis."

"His name was Mahagares, in case you're curious. He's the one who is about to kill you, not me. I've never killed in cold blood, but his memory is what's giving me the strength to see this through. Mahagares brought you down, too. He made me who I am, far more than anyone else."

Alex kept laughing. "Not your precious Ma? Hilarious."

Death kept a straight face. "I will not deny a worm of his last few wriggles as he tries to escape what he cannot. My father made me who I am, and I will finish what I started. Without me, maybe history would've been different, don't you think? You might've won."

"I might've won." Alex agreed. No point in denying it.

"But you see, it's ironic. You committed a whole genocide and that did not bring you down. You mismanage a nation enough for one man to die from a work accident and suddenly your whole life's ambitions whither and die. You're about to be killed by the handle, not the blade."

Terán did not respond. He merely nodded. He knew the conversation was over. Finally, Death started walking towards him. No point in fighting it, everything was over.

[West Barack and East Obama]

Lily Chobamya's Top 3 Corners

The Barack Broadcasting Corporation is sorry to announce that the next episode of The Chronicles of Obama: A Ballad of Bidens and Bushes will be postponed to next week due to a writers strike. We assure everyone that in the meantime, these unpatriotic seditionists will be severely punished for their destruction of the local arts scene and normal programming will resume soon. If you're feeling like it, donate to the BBC or contribute some literature!

Anyways, with yesterday's heroic 2-0 victory over Amenria featuring a sublime Olympic goal by set-piece specialist and reliable goalscorer Lily Chobamya, let's count down the 3 best corners by her.

3. Halfway Line Corner (Training Match)

Incredibly, Lily Chobamya achieved what many thought to be impossible. During a training match in the Boys XI vs Girls XI, Lily sent a corner flying all the way to the other end of the pitch. People thought she just kicked it wrong and began to laugh. But soon, no one was laughing when a stunning Mary Obramab (from the U21s) launched a rocket of a strike from the halfway line, wit the ball hurtling past Dwayne Obama to complete a magnificent goal. Scintillating! Due to this being a training match there is no known footage around.

2. REDACTED

1. REDACTED

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[Pasarga]

Worldwide Football Championship Manager has announced that they are beginning work on their newest release, set to come out in the late fall of this year. It boasts several new leagues that the publisher of the game has managed to negotiate licenses for, with the most notable of these for those in the dual islands of course is the continued presence of the SuperLiga and the entire Pasargan domestic pyramid and system in place. Upon release, the game will allow users to take over clubs from all over the footballing world, choosing to start as a semi-professional club in the SuperLiga 4 and work their way all the way to the top to compete with the big clubs or start with one of those clubs like CA Paulinthal or Stein-los Turkish and try to win the SuperLiga and then compete in the heavily competitive IFCF. The game supports all the IFCF competitions, allowing the user to compete in the all six competitions with the IFCF branding, including the theme songs to all competitions as well as draws with guests presenters from among the famous players and staff from the represented nations.

Improvements to this edition of the game include massive adjustments to the way that the AI interacts with the player, including a completely reworked squad balancing equation for the AI managers that will change the way that they will engage in the transfer market. The inclusion of deadline over the past few editions has seen more active windows, with an average of over a hundred more transfers thanks to the simulation of the panic buying and selling that happens on that last day and the days leading up to the window shutting. Will you be able to navigate the market to be able to find that new wonderkid before any of the other big clubs get a sniff of them, can you offload a player who is causing unhappiness in the locker room because they are not getting the playing time they desired, can you show your financial skills and make a squad able to compete with the big clubs despite a fraction of the budget? All of this is possible with the improvements that have come in the most recent edition of the game and offer players of the game their own way to play the game.

Hitting shelves in just under three months, the game is expected to be a massive hit, but will be facing a lot of competition in the market, with many other games of similar molds and fashions, as well as those who claim the game is visually unappealing. To that end, the developers have been hard at work improving their three dimensional engine and there are rumored hints that the game will be potentially moving to a new engine in an upcoming edition, with job postings in recent years having called for programmers familiar with other engines besides their own. The sports game market is a very competitive and saturated one and while WFCM does offer its own unique niche in the market, it still has to contend with other games in that market as well as those who attempt to replicate the niche that the game has carved out for itself over the last few decades. Innovation will be the key to keeping its fanbase happy as well as expanding it, with it routinely being one of the best selling products from the Dual Islands in the years that it releases a new edition.

[Oberour Ar Moro]

CHAPTER THREE: "The most frustrating modern sin is self-destructiveness."

In the aftermath of Charles-Claude Bernadaux's death, the Ministry of Justice began an investigation of the spread of Numbers in Oberour Ar Moro. The conclusions were shocking.

Numbers was not just a Porte des Mortes phenomenon. Or a Cyrene phenomenon. Numbers was a Dominion wide phenomenon. Tylis had over a hundred counting houses. Shockingly, even the chief of the Vergia Gendarmarie was on the payroll of a Numbers operation. There were Oberour officers in Regium that served in the office of the Chancellor's office who indulged in Numbers during their lunch breaks. The scale of participation, particularly among the underprivileged, potentially numbered in the millions.

This pervasive trend presented a challenge. The Ministry of Justice, alongside a chastened Gendarmarie, were very motivated to stamp out the criminal underworld thriving just under the surface of the Dominion. But how would they handle a populace that was habitually breaking the law for a few argenteus?

Number crunchers in the Ministry of Revenue had a straight forward solution. If so many Oberours were playing an illegal lottery, why not privatize it? An Oberour Ar Moro lottery would cut off the criminals at the knees, while potentially yielding a windfall.

However the Cathedrist Church and the most devout Oberour Ar Moro officials were repulsed by the thought.

Bishop Peterne Enligneeur of Marisca, one of the most outspoken of the religious opponents, wrote to Deputy Chancellor Guinolle des Cordeles, stating: "I acknowledge the prevalence of sin, but it is incumbent upon us not to condone nor promote them."

For centuries, the Cathedrist Church had considered themselves a partner in the leadership of the Dominion. Sacred power ruling together with Oberour Ar Moro's secular authority. Oberour Ar Moro had gladly enshrined religious precepts into law. The practice of any other religious faiths was proscribed, and divorce, adultery, and same-sex relationships were made illegal. Pornography was banned, and blasphemy was subject to state censure.

Yet, Oberour Ar Moro was not a theocracy. Although the Cathedrist Church urged Sabbath observance, businesses operated on Sundays. Tobacco and alcohol were legal, despite religious disapproval. Often, when commerce and religious teachings clashed, commercial interests prevailed.

The lottery debate enveloped Chancellor Serapion d'Eaue-Bonne. Regarded as an indecisive leader, the Chancellor deferred decisions due to ongoing Ministry of Justice inquiries, corruption trials, and various ministry reports. However, amidst escalating chatter, the Chancellor declared that he needed more information, and created a commission.

Twelve subject-matter experts, ultimately approved by Chancellor d'Eaue-Bonne, were tasked to convene, deliberate, investigate, and present a final report with recommendations. Mgr Enligneeur was named one co-chair. Iust lo Saralher, a proponent of a national lottery in the Ministry of Revenue, were appointed co-chairs, while the remaining members were hastily recruited:

• Mssr Stefan Tripier, proprietor of a business specializing in coin-operated amusements
• Prof Ronan Prieur de la Cote d'or, a Professor of History at Porphyrogene University renowned for his studies on the end of the Azorian monarchy
• Mssr Bartholomew le Munier, an auditor with Iefeats
• Mssr David de Blois, the former Ambassador to Gnejs who had insights into gambling policy due to his prior posting in Côte d'Saphir
• Mlle Parise Chaboteux-Abeille, a lawyer representing the Ministry of Justice
• Mme Gwenn Dessaigne, a marketing executive based in Cyrene
• Mssr Segondel de Saint-Jean-Marie, a senior internal affairs officer with the Gendarmerie
• Dr Aymée Vuillard, an expert in substance abuse and mental health, delving into gambling addiction
• Mssr Larig Unance, an executive at 777 Stores who anticipated the potential sale of lottery tickets at his business
• Prof Cassien Perdriel, a philosopher and ethicist at Saint Isidore University

Endowed with a substantial budget, a team of over 50, and extensive authority to summon witnesses, this commission embarked on their task a year after Charles-Claude Bernadaux's death.