27 Južnokorejski St
Krisuvik, Auspicious Realms of the Crown of St. Helena
7 December, 2016
"It will never pass Parliament, Anne," Aleksaandr reassured the young woman seated beside him and threw the newspaper on the ottoman. "They only barely approved the proposal anyways, look it says right here that it was 751 to 714."
The young man leaned back on the loveseat and absorbed the sunlight that was filtering through the large windows that lined the wall opposite of them. Teacup in hand, he pressed it up against his lips and allowed the warm vapours to wisp up against his face and into his nostrils. Satisfied, he opened his mouth and took a sip. Green tea, while not Aleks’s particular favourite, was the only alternative since his significant other was on another one of her “health crazes.”
"Don't 'Anne,' me... Anne is mother's name, not mine," Anastasia quipped, breaking the silence that had set in the room. She flashed a smile and leaned in and kissed his cheek. "You're lucky you're so damn cute."
"Oh, well excuse me Ms. Ana" Aleks sarcastically shot back, reciprocating the woman's playfulness.
Their relationship was a sort of modern fairy tale, not traditional of course as Aleks was the commoner instead of the noble, but he was immensely happy with his present life. It was hard for him to imagine that just a year ago he was just an attache for the Committee for State Security. Eighteen months later, he was dating the ruling Sovereign of the Estovnian Realm. It was both surreal and humbling, something that he reminded his significant other of almost daily.
"Honestly, though Ana. Don't worry about it," He continued, seemingly pleading with her.
She turned to look at Aleks and stared at him with her aquamarine eyes. It was almost like she wanted to absorb every physical feature of the man; his messy dirty blonde hair, his chiselled jaw line, his green eyes, everything. She leaned in again and pressed her lips against his and cupped his cheek with her right hand. Her hand was met with the needle-like feel of stubble that lined Aleks's face and immediately recoiled her hand, causing Aleks to laugh in the middle of their kiss.
"You need to shave, like right now," she quickly said, gently pushing him away.
"You're deflecting, dear."
Ana hated it when he did that. She was used to that by now, and she assumed that Aleks did it without thinking given his career and training with the Committee. Ultimately he was right, though. She was worrying a great deal about the entire matter. When Ana had agreed to relinquish her immediate executive powers a short two years ago, she had hoped that the power-hungry Grand Council was satiated enough to where they would leave her with what little power she kept. She was nothing like her father, she had made sure of that by getting her degree in political science, keeping up with current events - at least enough to maintain a conversation, among other things.
"I'm not agreeing to do it," Ana finally said bluntly. "I refuse to give that..." She paused for a moment. What exactly do you call the most powerful person in the country? A creature who would see you and your entire family put to the flame simply because of the incompetence of your predecessor. "...Man," the word exited her mouth dripping with hatred and contempt, befitting for a man that was Elder Thegn Viggó Lítiingursson. "...that monster..." the word lingered on her tongue. Yes, that word was indeed far better than "man." A man was somebody like Aleks; kind, compassionate, caring. Viggó was a viper, a snake, that slithered and snuck his way to the very top. And like the snake he was, he now had the nation trapped in his vise, and with each passing year, month, day, his grip got tighter and squeezed more and more life out of it. "... any more power." Her body tensed up with anger, her biceps twitching ever so slightly. "Leave us, please" Ana shot at the lone steward, who nodded and immediately walked out through the french doors that guarded the tea room.
It didn't take a genius to see that Aleks had struck a nerve with the Empress. It was unintentional of course, but to him, she was seemingly apathetic about the entirety of the issue. Aleks liked to think that they were very open with each other. Ever since the paper was published announcing what had happened at the Nordic Front Congress, Ana had been uncharacteristically quiet and asocial.
She rose up from the couch with her teacup in hand and began to pace, something she always did when she was upset. Her linen nightshirt loosely hung from her frame, giving Aleks a charming view of his girlfriend as the sunlight illuminated the more intimate parts of her body that were hidden underneath.
"When will they realise that I. Am. Not. Like. My. Father," she shouted, throwing the teacup against the wall. A loud crash was heard only seconds later as the tiny vessel shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. "Now I need a new glass." She collapsed back onto the couch and let out a heavy sigh. "He's not stripping me of who and what I am. This is MY country, MY responsibility... not his, and he is going to have to accept that he needs to share his toy with his senior."
"I have to admit that you're super cute when you get worked up like that. You know how to carefully tread the 'bitchy-bossy line' pretty well," Aleks finally said. "And, if I may, I'd prefer you not to refer to our country as a toy." Ana rolled her eyes while her rose coloured lips formed a smirk. "Annnnndddd there's my girl" Aleks said as he put his arm around her and pulled her in.
"Now I'm all worked up and it's not even 10 o'clock," Ana said, sighing after the fact.
"I think I have a solution to that..." Aleks replied, and pulled her on top of him.
The young man leaned back on the loveseat and absorbed the sunlight that was filtering through the large windows that lined the wall opposite of them. Teacup in hand, he pressed it up against his lips and allowed the warm vapours to wisp up against his face and into his nostrils. Satisfied, he opened his mouth and took a sip. Green tea, while not Aleks’s particular favourite, was the only alternative since his significant other was on another one of her “health crazes.”
"Don't 'Anne,' me... Anne is mother's name, not mine," Anastasia quipped, breaking the silence that had set in the room. She flashed a smile and leaned in and kissed his cheek. "You're lucky you're so damn cute."
"Oh, well excuse me Ms. Ana" Aleks sarcastically shot back, reciprocating the woman's playfulness.
Their relationship was a sort of modern fairy tale, not traditional of course as Aleks was the commoner instead of the noble, but he was immensely happy with his present life. It was hard for him to imagine that just a year ago he was just an attache for the Committee for State Security. Eighteen months later, he was dating the ruling Sovereign of the Estovnian Realm. It was both surreal and humbling, something that he reminded his significant other of almost daily.
"Honestly, though Ana. Don't worry about it," He continued, seemingly pleading with her.
She turned to look at Aleks and stared at him with her aquamarine eyes. It was almost like she wanted to absorb every physical feature of the man; his messy dirty blonde hair, his chiselled jaw line, his green eyes, everything. She leaned in again and pressed her lips against his and cupped his cheek with her right hand. Her hand was met with the needle-like feel of stubble that lined Aleks's face and immediately recoiled her hand, causing Aleks to laugh in the middle of their kiss.
"You need to shave, like right now," she quickly said, gently pushing him away.
"You're deflecting, dear."
Ana hated it when he did that. She was used to that by now, and she assumed that Aleks did it without thinking given his career and training with the Committee. Ultimately he was right, though. She was worrying a great deal about the entire matter. When Ana had agreed to relinquish her immediate executive powers a short two years ago, she had hoped that the power-hungry Grand Council was satiated enough to where they would leave her with what little power she kept. She was nothing like her father, she had made sure of that by getting her degree in political science, keeping up with current events - at least enough to maintain a conversation, among other things.
"I'm not agreeing to do it," Ana finally said bluntly. "I refuse to give that..." She paused for a moment. What exactly do you call the most powerful person in the country? A creature who would see you and your entire family put to the flame simply because of the incompetence of your predecessor. "...Man," the word exited her mouth dripping with hatred and contempt, befitting for a man that was Elder Thegn Viggó Lítiingursson. "...that monster..." the word lingered on her tongue. Yes, that word was indeed far better than "man." A man was somebody like Aleks; kind, compassionate, caring. Viggó was a viper, a snake, that slithered and snuck his way to the very top. And like the snake he was, he now had the nation trapped in his vise, and with each passing year, month, day, his grip got tighter and squeezed more and more life out of it. "... any more power." Her body tensed up with anger, her biceps twitching ever so slightly. "Leave us, please" Ana shot at the lone steward, who nodded and immediately walked out through the french doors that guarded the tea room.
It didn't take a genius to see that Aleks had struck a nerve with the Empress. It was unintentional of course, but to him, she was seemingly apathetic about the entirety of the issue. Aleks liked to think that they were very open with each other. Ever since the paper was published announcing what had happened at the Nordic Front Congress, Ana had been uncharacteristically quiet and asocial.
She rose up from the couch with her teacup in hand and began to pace, something she always did when she was upset. Her linen nightshirt loosely hung from her frame, giving Aleks a charming view of his girlfriend as the sunlight illuminated the more intimate parts of her body that were hidden underneath.
"When will they realise that I. Am. Not. Like. My. Father," she shouted, throwing the teacup against the wall. A loud crash was heard only seconds later as the tiny vessel shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. "Now I need a new glass." She collapsed back onto the couch and let out a heavy sigh. "He's not stripping me of who and what I am. This is MY country, MY responsibility... not his, and he is going to have to accept that he needs to share his toy with his senior."
"I have to admit that you're super cute when you get worked up like that. You know how to carefully tread the 'bitchy-bossy line' pretty well," Aleks finally said. "And, if I may, I'd prefer you not to refer to our country as a toy." Ana rolled her eyes while her rose coloured lips formed a smirk. "Annnnndddd there's my girl" Aleks said as he put his arm around her and pulled her in.
"Now I'm all worked up and it's not even 10 o'clock," Ana said, sighing after the fact.
"I think I have a solution to that..." Aleks replied, and pulled her on top of him.
“Kostka”
33 Južnokorejski St
Krisuvik, Auspicious Realms of the Crown of St. Helena
9 December, 2016
Over the past four years since her appointment, Chairwoman of the Committee of State Security Vera Koelhaaltur had settled into her new job well. No longer considered the “new guy,” her scrutiny of details and her experience in foreign relations made her the obvious candidate when her predecessor, Lieutenant General Antoni Kristoforssyn died in a car accident in early August of 2012. Of course she knew that it wasn’t an accident, but rather the cultivation of years of garnering favours and a aspiration for excellence that Vera felt for herself. She knew the senile old bastard would never resign, so Vera had to devise other means of achieving her goal. Luckily for her, he had been a creature of habit and drove the same route to work at everyday so it was easy to arrange his demise. All it took was a few “favours” in exchange for the garbage truck to t-bone his car, a price she deemed entirely worth every pence.
Four years after that fateful day, Vera found herself at the very cusp of her ultimate goal, becoming Elder Thegn. The “Great Game” as she called it was a necessity to learn and master if one expected to survive in the Estovnian government. The dark manifestations of its inner machinery were the deaths of so many aspiring public servants: Valentin Hofmun, Milan Dragossyn, and Zfenomir Arsenijsev to name just a handful. Their deaths were just a reminder to the living that the Great Game is constant and that you can only win by surviving to the next day.
Since her appointment, the entirety of her focus was on the monarchy. In her eyes, it was the physical manifestation of the past; an ancient relic from a bygone era that represents the antithesis of everything Liberationism stands for. Rather this is from her upbringing in Allamunnika or pure idealism is a subject for debate. Being assigned to the royal family as a cadet shortly after she immigrated to Estovnia, she gained an intricate and unique knowledge to how they function. When she assumed a more administrative position within the KSB, she had to rely on her network, or “eyes” as she liked to refer to them as, of palace servants that reported everything to her.
A knock on her door brought her out of her catatonic state-of-trance. Her expansive oak desk was uncharacteristically cluttered and messy. Various reports and documents sprawled out over its polished, shimmery surface. Quickly she reached into the bottom desk drawer and pulled out a prescription bottle of Buspirone and quickly popped two of the pills into her mouth and swallowed. Leaning back into her office chair, she sighed and closed her eyes for a brief precious few seconds.
”Enter,” her voice was coarse as a result of her being relatively silent all morning.
”Druga Majornageneral,” the ensign replied, snapping a quick salute to Vera who robotically reciprocated. “Urgent message from the Elder Thegn’s officer, druga.” His polished black boots clacked loudly on the wood flooring of Vera’s office as he approached her desk.
Why couldn’t he just call me. “Yes, yes. Just put it on the top and I’ll get right to it. Thank you.” Now hurry on out. She feigned a smile as the ensign precariously placed the faxed paper on top of a pile of manila folders.
She had to restrain herself from snatching the paper as soon as it was laid down. As soon as the door clicked shut, her hand shot out to grab the paper and her eyes immediately scanned the document. As they usually were, the message was drowned in ambiguity and vague terminology. Thankfully, the Chairwoman had become adept at deciphering the legalese that infested all the correspondence sent her way from the Grand Council for National Progress or the Central Committee of the Nordic Front. As her eyes glossed over the final sentence, she placed it into the industrial paper shredder located to the right side of the desk. Her hand reached over to the phone in the far left corner of the desk and dialled.
”Yes… no, I will not hold… just put me through, idiot, he should be expecting me”
”I would have preferred to talk in person,” the voice said as the receiver came to life.
”Present circumstances currently do not allow that as a possibility, Drugary Viggó,” Her response was seemingly rehearsed. Well-rehearsed at that.
”I assume you saw the news then,” Viggó rhetorically asked. “It barely passed… Barely is unacceptable, Chairwoman. When I appointed you to your position after your predecessors… untimely… demise, I was told that you would get results. For four years you have surpassed all of my expectations and those on the Grand Council…” His voice was cold and distant as his words reached Vera’s ears.
”Than-”
”It was not a compliment. It was an observation, Chairwoman,” Viggó interrupted. “You know what must be done. I need not remind you of what will happen should I not get the results that are needed.”
”Yes… of course, Drugary Viggó” Vera responded before hanging up the phone. And I can’t wait to tell you of what’s going to happen.
She sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. Instinctively, she again reached for her lower drawer of the desk and blindly wailed through the darkened crevice until she procured the Buspirone phial once more.
She looked at the top manila folder, one she had precariously labelled as “замок” or “castle.” Inside this seemingly meaningless folder were the names of over 50,000 teachers, intellectuals, politicians, and military officers alongside mostly fabricated charges. The most important of these names were the 714 names of those who voted against removing the monarchy at the 13th Congress of the Nordic Front.
Vera calmly pressed the intercom button on the phone. The machine hissed to life as a weary voice called out.
”Yes, Druga Chairwoman?”
”Send a correspondence to the Standing Committee for Upholding National and Spiritual Harmony. Alert them that “Case Castle” is now in effect. They will understand what it means.” She released the button before her secretary could respond.
Four years after that fateful day, Vera found herself at the very cusp of her ultimate goal, becoming Elder Thegn. The “Great Game” as she called it was a necessity to learn and master if one expected to survive in the Estovnian government. The dark manifestations of its inner machinery were the deaths of so many aspiring public servants: Valentin Hofmun, Milan Dragossyn, and Zfenomir Arsenijsev to name just a handful. Their deaths were just a reminder to the living that the Great Game is constant and that you can only win by surviving to the next day.
Since her appointment, the entirety of her focus was on the monarchy. In her eyes, it was the physical manifestation of the past; an ancient relic from a bygone era that represents the antithesis of everything Liberationism stands for. Rather this is from her upbringing in Allamunnika or pure idealism is a subject for debate. Being assigned to the royal family as a cadet shortly after she immigrated to Estovnia, she gained an intricate and unique knowledge to how they function. When she assumed a more administrative position within the KSB, she had to rely on her network, or “eyes” as she liked to refer to them as, of palace servants that reported everything to her.
A knock on her door brought her out of her catatonic state-of-trance. Her expansive oak desk was uncharacteristically cluttered and messy. Various reports and documents sprawled out over its polished, shimmery surface. Quickly she reached into the bottom desk drawer and pulled out a prescription bottle of Buspirone and quickly popped two of the pills into her mouth and swallowed. Leaning back into her office chair, she sighed and closed her eyes for a brief precious few seconds.
”Enter,” her voice was coarse as a result of her being relatively silent all morning.
”Druga Majornageneral,” the ensign replied, snapping a quick salute to Vera who robotically reciprocated. “Urgent message from the Elder Thegn’s officer, druga.” His polished black boots clacked loudly on the wood flooring of Vera’s office as he approached her desk.
Why couldn’t he just call me. “Yes, yes. Just put it on the top and I’ll get right to it. Thank you.” Now hurry on out. She feigned a smile as the ensign precariously placed the faxed paper on top of a pile of manila folders.
She had to restrain herself from snatching the paper as soon as it was laid down. As soon as the door clicked shut, her hand shot out to grab the paper and her eyes immediately scanned the document. As they usually were, the message was drowned in ambiguity and vague terminology. Thankfully, the Chairwoman had become adept at deciphering the legalese that infested all the correspondence sent her way from the Grand Council for National Progress or the Central Committee of the Nordic Front. As her eyes glossed over the final sentence, she placed it into the industrial paper shredder located to the right side of the desk. Her hand reached over to the phone in the far left corner of the desk and dialled.
”Yes… no, I will not hold… just put me through, idiot, he should be expecting me”
”I would have preferred to talk in person,” the voice said as the receiver came to life.
”Present circumstances currently do not allow that as a possibility, Drugary Viggó,” Her response was seemingly rehearsed. Well-rehearsed at that.
”I assume you saw the news then,” Viggó rhetorically asked. “It barely passed… Barely is unacceptable, Chairwoman. When I appointed you to your position after your predecessors… untimely… demise, I was told that you would get results. For four years you have surpassed all of my expectations and those on the Grand Council…” His voice was cold and distant as his words reached Vera’s ears.
”Than-”
”It was not a compliment. It was an observation, Chairwoman,” Viggó interrupted. “You know what must be done. I need not remind you of what will happen should I not get the results that are needed.”
”Yes… of course, Drugary Viggó” Vera responded before hanging up the phone. And I can’t wait to tell you of what’s going to happen.
She sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. Instinctively, she again reached for her lower drawer of the desk and blindly wailed through the darkened crevice until she procured the Buspirone phial once more.
She looked at the top manila folder, one she had precariously labelled as “замок” or “castle.” Inside this seemingly meaningless folder were the names of over 50,000 teachers, intellectuals, politicians, and military officers alongside mostly fabricated charges. The most important of these names were the 714 names of those who voted against removing the monarchy at the 13th Congress of the Nordic Front.
Vera calmly pressed the intercom button on the phone. The machine hissed to life as a weary voice called out.
”Yes, Druga Chairwoman?”
”Send a correspondence to the Standing Committee for Upholding National and Spiritual Harmony. Alert them that “Case Castle” is now in effect. They will understand what it means.” She released the button before her secretary could respond.
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Standing Committee for Upholding National and Spiritual Harmony announces campaign to "purify state ideology and thinking"
50,000 teachers, intellectuals, politicians, and military officers arrested nationwide in first steps of campaign.
Marjukka Heminkintykär
10 December, 2016 | Krisuvik, Estovnia
Two soldiers maintaining order as the arrests were carried out in the Capitol. (AP photo)
50,000 teachers, intellectuals, politicians, and military officers arrested nationwide in first steps of campaign.
Marjukka Heminkintykär
10 December, 2016 | Krisuvik, Estovnia
Two soldiers maintaining order as the arrests were carried out in the Capitol. (AP photo)