A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Carter Aaron Scott » Mon Dec 04, 2017 8:42 pm

13:48, Private residence of the Hyperion CEO, Hitam, Malivia

A bright light pierced the darkened bedroom of Psy Scott, the President, CEO, and Sole Proprietor of the Hyperion Corporation, as his personal servant, K.A.R.E.N., opened the door. She sightly scoffed at the ghastly sight of the room: clothes strewn every which way, half eaten plates of food piled high on the dresser, and dozens of used condoms and empty wrappers littered about; all messes she'd have to clean up. she stepped delicately around the piles of clothes, picking up smaller items and tossing them into the piles. Psy stirred in the large bed in the middle of the far wall, grumbling as he tried to shield himself from the light with a pillow. He groaned, turning onto his side.

"Piss of Karen, I'm not feeling it today," he mumbled as K.A.R.E.N. stepped to his bedside. "Besides, today's my day off." K.A.R.E.N. scoffed to herself, pulling the comforter off Psy.

"You're needed by the Foundation, Mr. President." She bowed slightly, as custom

"Needed my Ass!" he yanked the comforter from her and covered back up. "They act like they can't take a shit without me holding their hands! I'm not always going to be this young, they should know."

And you shouldn't be right now, K.A.R.E.N. thought to herself. She shook her head and grabbed several of the plates, making her way to the door. 'Well, whatever you feel about them, they need you at the meeting." She stopped halfway out the door. "Oh, and Chief Ananya needs to talk to you. Something about unauthorized persons getting access to the penthouse." She smirked a little and left.

"Yeah? Well fuck you too, KAREN!' He tossed a pillow towards her, the pillow missing, smacking against the door frame. "I was unaware the servants were giving the orders around here, now." He scoffed to himself as he uncovered.

14:30, Pantheon Complex, Hitam, Malivia

The congregation of approximately 50 fell silent as Psy Scott entered, the men and women standing straight where they were, as if he were a head of state. The twenty directors stood behind a long, semi-circular bench made of the finest mahogany, with thirty or so aides and press members facing the bench. Psy took a seat in a slightly over-sized chair situated in in the middle of the arch of the semi-circle, as if he were the keystone to the Pantheon Foundation.

"As you were, all," he said nonchalantly as he adjusted himself, everyone in the room taking a seat. Mark Surc, the CEO of Cyphrus Security and effective second in command, also took his seat beside Psy, turning to him.

"President Scott, welcome. First item up today is the surprisingly popular tv show, "Super Metz." Now, HSB doesn't want to show this but we've forced them too until you can give us your opinion. So, that's what I'd like to ask. How do you feel about this communist propaganda?"

Psy Scoffed a little. "Honestly, I love it. It's hilarious and quite entertaining. Not as much as the Pantheon Show, of course, but I see no reason why we should pull it from air." The board stared at him for a moment, their eyes wide in surprise. Psy looked at them and stood, pacing behind them. "I mean, think of just how hilarious it'd be to find the main villain of their show endorsing it! It'd completely defeat the purpose of the cartoon to begin with. And besides, I've looked at the ratings and holy shit! We're getting our name out there with all the people watching the bumpers we put on that damned show! Why ruin such a good thing?" He took his seat again. "So I'm in favor of keeping this show around. Anyways. All in favor of pulling "Super Metz" from the air?" No one raised their hand. "All Apposed?" All members of the Board raised their hands slowly, including Psy. "Case closed." He shuffled some papers and set them aside. "What's up next?"

Zhao Li, the Director and seated member of Dalibor, stood. "If you do not know, a group of socialists recently took control of my home, the Dalibor Corporate Association. Their members control sixty-three of the one-hundred and twenty seats in the Employee's Union, a complete, if slim, majority. So far, they have already tried four times to disassociate with both the Pantheon Foundation and even capitalism. If they are allowed to continue this triad, Dalibor will fall to the communists." He bowed slightly and took his seat.

Mr. Surc cleared his throat. "There have been reports that the 'Worker's Union' is tied to the defunct Proletariat Liberation Front, a finding that startles me, and I'm sure many more on the Board. I say we should ban them and call new elections. Mister President?"

"Honestly, why should we? Won't that just piss them off more and start another civil war?"

Mr. Surc turned to Psy. "The communists have been demoralized, if any are still alive, Sir. there's no way they can rise up again."

"Then, how did the socialists get sixty-three seats? If they're so demoralized, then why didn't the DFW get a vast majority of the vote?If we did such a good job then how are we in this situation?" the room fell silent, no one able to answer. "Exactly. They're still strong. Send them a message that if they don't accept the fact that they lost and star governing, the people will have their heads. Anyone else? No? Good. All in favor of banning the socialists?" four of the members, including Mr. Zhao, raised their hands. "Alright. All for sending them a message?" eight of the members and Psy raised their hands. "And there we go. Mr. Zhao, please draft a message to the Worker's Union and bring it to me once you're ready."

"Yes, Mr. President."
Blackshirts(Malivia)- Active
Blakshyrts(Aldegār)- inactive
Hyperion Corporate Authority (Hawu Mumenhes)- inactive
Carter Aaron Scott
Posts: 193
Joined: Mon Feb 13, 2017 7:34 pm

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby stuntmonkey » Thu Dec 14, 2017 9:58 am

Karstadt, Capital of Hulstria - Private Offices of the Reichskanzler. August 4317:

The sharp metallic taste of the gun barrel struck home as Leopold Nimitz placed it against the roof of his mouth. His hand was shaking uncontrollably and his right index finger was oily with sweat as it it remained poised ready to pull the trigger.

It was the third time within an hour that the Reichsklanzler had plucked up enough courage to put the single shot pistol into position. That is, if courage was the right word for such a coward's way out, he thought. On the two previous occasions he'd not released the safety and convinced himself that he was better than suicide.

But here he was again, seconds and centimetres away from ending it all with a single bullet.

Is this the way it must be? he mused, as a remorseless flood of regrets washed over him. When, or where, did it go wrong? The Citizenship Class Act? The Invasion of Ostland to protect the people there from the plague? Not bowing down and becoming a lap dog to the Security Council?

Nimitz had not slept for more than 48 hours as he re-considered every small detail over and over again in a vain attempt to find an escape route - a way to justify his actions to the world community and one that would stop the coalition forces that were moving inexorably towards Karstadt. Why could they not understand that he had done everything for the betterment of his country - for the people who loved him. Surely they would do the same?

Of course, it was all too late now - the international community had been poisoned by the lies of the Communists and the Septembrists who had fuelled the false flames of hatred and oppression. Now his closest allies were turning on him like wolves who had smelt blood. The Party no longer had confidence in him and senior members were jostling for position. There was no way out; the forces bearing down on him would not stop until they had him in a cage, parading him through the streets like some kind of exotic animal they had caught on a great hunt.

A loud knock on the locked study door brought him to his senses with a start. "Herr Chancellor, are you quite ok, sir?" came the enquiry. It was the voice of his servant, Karl-Heinz, an ever-loyal young man, who loved the party and still adored Nimitz. "Sir, you door is locked and I have have not heard from you in some time. Are you... in distress?"

Nimitz did not answer. It was now or never, he realised. The only way left to him was this route - the path many would say was the coward's way. But it was better than the alternative. I will become a martyr for our cause, he reassured himself. People will worship me and The Party will live on through that memory. Then, one day, our great cause will be reborn and Hulstrian re-ignited with glory. His mind revelled in such heady thoughts and he almost forced a smile.

Outside the room the murmur of more voices could be heard and someone tried the door handle. "Sir, I am going to break down the door," exclaimed Karl-Heinz in a shrill voice. "I believe you are unwell and I..." His voice trailed off and the sound turned to a dull thud as someone tried to break down the door with their shoulder.

The Reichskanzler now knew he only had a few seconds of liberty left and so turned every thought to doing the right thing. He slipped his thumb over the pistol's safety releasing it. Then with his wavering hand tight on the grip he reinforced the gun's position in his mouth pointing directly towards his brain. The wave of nausea he felt almost caused him to throw up and his legs would certainly have given way if he was not sitting at his desk.

"Be Brave, Leo," he heard himself saying out loud and then, with a final look around the room, he closed his eyes and started to exert pressure on the trigger of the gun.

The noise outside the door was rising and at least two people were taking turns at trying to break it down. "We are coming Herr Chancellor," said Karl-Heinz, his voice full of panic. "Hold on, sir, we will be with you very soon."

At his desk, Nimitz hardly heard the disturbance. "You must be so brave," he said, fighting his overwhelming natural instinct to live. "Don't let your country down. Do it for Hulstria."
“I venture to suggest that patriotism is not a short and frenzied outburst of emotion, but the tranquil and steady dedication of a lifetime.”


Current party - Haruzuterēchisuku Refonpātī
Posts: 478
Joined: Thu Jun 30, 2016 1:37 pm

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Maxington » Sun Dec 17, 2017 8:36 pm

5:34, Sadarium, Occidentria, Selucia.

The car had been parked at the side of the road and had been prepared to resemble the taxis which had rushed around the inner city either in search for a quick change or “off route assignments” as they call it. Not much vehicles passed on this portion of the city as they tend to void having to pass through its airy streets. People feared that they may follow a similar fate to those they had seen about on the news going missing and being found in the area with lacerations on their bodies or missing limbs, if you were unlucky. The only form of transportation within the area were either specially hired taxis or public transport, who took the risk of entering the area on their own accord. The spot, although not a mission alter factor, offered view of the roads which came together at the junction. “Turn the engine off,” Dannie said calmly to the young woman at the side of him in the driver’s seat, as to not sound tense to startle her. She held the steering wheel with a firm grip, rubbing her hands along it in pure nervousness. She had all means to be nervous as this was her first operation as a field operative since her entry into the service. She kept in the back of her mind, her emotions and sense of righteousness, for she knew these were factors which could put both the mission and her life in jeopardy. Seeing her firm grip on the steering wheel, Dannie intervened, “Eliza…calm, we don’t need nervousness now, and we are far beyond that point.” He insisted. “How is she doing?” Carmit asked over the earpiece she had placed in the ears of Dannie and the Eliza prior to leaving the safe house. Carmit had been patrol around the area in a van, awaiting the approach of the target. From the description given to their handler Gadi, the target was a middle-aged man, black hair, blue eyes, who took a specially hired taxi out of the area as he had been a resident to the area for more than fifteen years. The spot soon became important as it was at the centre of the route which the taxi took each day. This had been confirmed by a reconnaissance team who had been observing the target’s movements for the past week. “She seems tense, but I am sure that would die down once we get into the action.” Dannie responded, looking at Iren as he said it, for he knew that he could hear what he was saying due to the fact that she was next to him and that they were all on the same radio frequency. “Do you see anything? Anyone for that matter?” Dannie asked. “No, all I can see is a dreary road and white taxi.” She was referring to the taxi which Dannie and Eliza were seated in. “I’ll tell you when I see them.” Carmit concluded.

Whilst he waited for the signal from Carmit, Dannie pulled out a black plastic bag from the glove compartment, removing two suppressors and a pistol. He reclined in the seat and began screwing a suppressor onto one of the pistols. Eliza glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Where is your gun?” he questioned, still focusing on screwing the suppresser onto the pistol. She produced a micro pistol from the driver’s door compartment, placing it on Dannie’s lap. Dannie and Carmi did not trust her with the larger pistols they wielded as they thought that she was not ready to handle their size and the recoil which usually accompanied them, thus a micro pistol was the weapon of choice. When he had successfully screwed the suppressors onto his pistol, he began work on Eliza’s to which he returned to her upon completing the cycle. “Taxi, coming down Main Street. Right on time.” Carmit said tensely through her earpiece. “Let’s go.” Dannie ordered, placing a crash helmet which he had stored in the back seat, onto Eliza’s head. Upon slipping her head into the helmet with help from Dannie, she started the car and began driving towards the target vehicle. As Eliza and Dannie’s taxi came onto the road, the driver shifted his attention from his passenger’s babbling to their taxi. He watched the taxi (similar to his) drive up the street towards him. He had expected it to drive on by, so he went to change the radio station, he had not been aware of their manoeuvre. Unexpectedly Dannie’s car veered directly towards him and he soon found himself starring down at the grill on the vehicle. The Taxi driver hurried to turn the vehicle, but his body froze up from the adrenaline. Carmit watched the ordeal unfold from a distance, turning her head away as she watched Dannie and Eliza’s taxi charge for the other. Dannie and Eliza’s struck the target’s taxi at the head-on, at 60 km/h. When momentum from both vehicles ceased, Carmit bolted towards the crash site. Dannie lifted his face off from the airbag to check on Eliza who sat frozen at the steering wheel breathing heavily with the air bag lodged between her arms. “You just sit there and sort yourself out.” He said exiting the vehicle with his silenced pistol concealed in his pants.

Dannie looked at the driver, whom had been frozen at the steering wheel similar to Eliza, however, the target exited the vehicle to confront Dannie. “What was that!?” the target shouted, holding his head, presumably due to the slight whip lash caused by the crash. By this time Carmit had arrived at the crash site. “Is everyone okay?” she said worriedly, looking at Eliza and the other driver frozen in their seats. “Yes, Yes.” Dannie responded. “Good.” Anne responded, pulling out her silenced pistol from underneath her shirt, lodging a bullet into the head of the target’s taxi driver, killing him instantly. In a similar timing Dannie pulled out his silenced pistol from his pants, lodging a bullet into the right leg of the target, sending him down to the ground almost immediately with a shout of pain. Dannie immediately placed his shoe onto the target’s mouth to pacify his scream. Eliza, after recovering from her instance of shock, dashed the crash helmet to the side and exited the vehicle with her pistol in hand. Carmit gave her a reassuring nod, to which she responded by mouthing “I’m okay.” “We need to get him to Mordecai.” Dannie said, looking at the target’s leg. Mordecai was the Va’adet’s Selucia Station resident doctor. A former surgeon in the YDF, he retired and went into the intelligence service where he has served as the resident doctor in several stations throughout the world. Dannie removed his foot from the target’s mouth and began to pull him into Carmit’s van. With assistance from her, the side door was opened and the target was placed inside to lay down. Dannie remained in the back of the van him whilst Carmit and Eliza were seated at the front. Soon after they speed off, leaving nothing but two destroyed cars and a dead driver.
"The future of the Nation is in the children's school bags" ~ Dr. Eric Williams
President of the Trond Henrichsen Institute for International Affairs.
User avatar
Posts: 2351
Joined: Mon Oct 14, 2013 11:37 pm
Location: Look Behind you.

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Axxell » Fri Jan 12, 2018 12:27 pm

17.21, Forte Mamertino, Romula, Istalia

The bunkers of Forte Mamertino were always immersed in a surreal twilight, only the parallel rows of leds along the sides of the floor illuminated the corridors while rooms and larger rooms had lights along the edge of the ceiling, which were also kept rather low, even because in many places the computer screens and the various lights of the equipment and systems helped to brighten the penumbra.

In a briefing room on the third sublevel, a man in a suit and tie was speaking in front of a group of diverse people with disparate somatic features, men and women: three were certainly of Jelbic ethnicity, so there were a pair of olive skin, Majatrans or Kalopians, three blondes, maybe Duntrekkers, and therefore five Istalians, even if a couple could be of any other similar ethnicity.

They were all silently watching the big screen behind the man in a suit and tie: maps, satellite photos, faces, vehicles, various tactical plans and then some organization charts. The man was talking about two hours when he finally turned off the screen and revived the lighting.
"I hope I was clear men! Any questions?"
They were all silent for a few seconds, then one of the blondes raised his hand and asked:
"why do we have to conduct a parallel investigation? Can not you just throw us into the international team?"
"because the international team will have to be made up of well-known experts and on which no doubts of any kind can be raised" he replied very calmly as if it were the simplest of motivations.
"And if we were to discover something, how do we justify it?"
"I think it's not business that should interest you lieutenant!" exclaimed this time rather angry "the only thing that should interest you is to figure out who the hell has killed the Zar of Deltaria! While you..." he turned his head to the right, the agents were gathered in two groups, divided by the corridor between the two square groups of chairs "do you have any questions?"
A woman raised her head, she had long brown hair gathered in a braid, even though it was usually her athletic and tonic body that attracted the attention:
"After our departure will you send us reinforcements? One thing is the Kalopi-Jakanian border, but now we are talking about... I do not know how many thousands of kilometers from north to south between sea and sea!"
"We invited Colonel Tsakis and Colonel Agiatopoulos just for this!"
"and should we rely on the Kalopian Nucleus? Since the turn of the last century, the Kalopian Nucleus has been gradually reduced to the bone, how should they help us?"
"Captain, do you really believe us so naïve? We can also have limited resources and few active men, but don't worry because we never abandoned our connections! I hope I will not disturb you sleep in some tent, we will move on horseback for a few days"
"ah... I have even less trust in the Wantunians!"
"Captain will have to do it" said boiled down the man in a suit and tie "and indeed, commit you to guarantee their trust: we must avoid a possible Ahmadi coalition in the south against the ethnicities of the north! Eliopolis' assholes if they continue in this way the Wantuni are in danger of falling in! Fuck Kalopia and her ethnic mess... "
"Then hurry up and send us reinforcements! We can not install sensors for thousands of miles long and even play ambassadors in... four cats!"
"As I said, we will send the necessary reinforcements! Now you can go, it's all!"
Slowly one after the other they got up and left the room, leaving alone the man in a suit and tie collecting his papers to put them into the practice suitcase.
But as he left the briefing room he did not make his way to the exit, but with the elevator he went down another two levels and then entered a room with large windows that looked out onto a large underground warehouse full of boxes of all kinds. There, from the shadow of some large shelves, emerged a figure with a distinct air, well dressed and with an amused grin:
"Did you finish with your men? You took more time than I thought"
"I took the time I need... but let's move on to us, what do you think about what I told you?"
"It could be a possibility! I have already decided to organize myself..." he opened his jacket and showed two guns under his arms, two big guns with a shiny barrel and several components made of composite materials.
The man in a suit and tie just nodded his head and then asked: "I can you prepare a plane within 6 hours, I could make you leave at 11.00 p.m."
"excellent, I have already warned my team"
"I hope this will lead to something... I hope in your qualities"
"looking for other spies is bread for my teeth, no matter where they come from... and I feel it will be a good search..."
"feel what you want Domizi, I don't give a shit of your boundless ego, what interests me are your qualities! There are too many to stick their nose in the Majatran affairs, we must know if any of these assholes have something to do with what is happening in recent years"
"I already have a half idea... and I had asked to act for a long time at the Director!"
"But you know... a seeks and destroys mission could cause a little too many suspicious deaths... and we could not risk with it, the situation was too quiet"
"Well... let's hope we did not wait too long!"
"I hope that they don't really have nothing to do with..."
"memorandum of understanding, training of the troops... their great interest in the events of recent months... you hope it is not like that, but I fear it is this the true"
"Let's not rush to conclusions too hasty! The Director does not trust even in Kalopians and Deltarians..."
"Well... meanwhile they have cultivated a new beautiful puppet in Majatra and by chance... who is causing all this mess?"
"Yes, but to get to kill a Head of State?"
"They would just lick their mustaches for a large-scale conflict in Majatra! They will stand quietly in the north in front of a fireplace... while a conflict in Majatra would only favor them and those other broken asses of the ''we are the beautiful and perfect'' Hutorians!"
"Would Vanuku be informed? Would it be involved?"
"uhm... hard to say, but it seems they already have too many internal problems, other communists apparently... and every time the monarchy is at risk, they lose interest in international affairs"
"Let's help them with those fucking Communists! Let's try to lend them the hand! They're getting used by those asshole... and maybe they think that they're using those shitty Nordics! What do they think? That if a large scale conflict in Majatra breaks out they think they will stay out or not be touched? The President should pick up the fucking red phone and talk to Wiel, if they really are interested in Majatra's prosperity as they say, should they really make act those assholes undisturbed? "
"Always if there are them behind all this"
"I am convinced"
"My, instead, is an idea, but I do not want to rush to conclusions"
I would like to remind you of the "nice" Raports that emerged last year: those people did nothing but work to undermine most part of the world powers for their profit!"
"Yes, but you need evidence to be able to talk and act in some way! And if by chance they have nothing to do with it?"
"if they are clean I am a virginal girl all house and church! And if the Direction had given me a free hand... maybe we knew more things at this time"
"I believe that in the next few months there will be all the action you want!"
"I hope so! Why do you need to spy on the communications of half the world if we find ourselves so to grope? But... by the way... is Carola Mussi back from Keymon? I knew they sent her into a bunkers to analyze mountains of phone calls and emails"
"still not! Another three months"
"another three months? Mmm... she would be comfortable with me in the team..."
"If you need, Domizi, I swear I'll even drop it from a height of 11,000 meters!"
"It would be really useful! It's one of the best!"
"ok, maximum tomorrow night she will be with you"
"what I wanted to hear! Thank you, if it's all..."
"Be careful, with those assholes you can never be quiet, I sincerely hope they are not behind all this shit because otherwise this time will break out a war with bells and whistles"
"never say never!" the other answered ironic and smiling "I'm going to finish preparing the team, update for 8.00 tomorrow morning "
"good luck Domizi"
Alleanza Radicale (Radical Alliance) - Istalia (Active)
User avatar
Posts: 1496
Joined: Mon Aug 01, 2016 8:08 am

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Axxell » Wed Jan 31, 2018 7:01 pm

08.27, Palazzo di Travertino (seat of the Ministry of Defence, of the Chief of Defence Staff, of the Interforce Operations High Command and of the Command of the Army), Romula, Istalia

Through the row of tall, squared windows, the light of the morning flooded strongly in the large office of the Minister, reflecting on the wide surfaces of white and serpentine marble that covered floor and walls.
It was a huge, monumental office, the size of a tennis court and starting from the dark wooden door with brown bronze inserts, on the right there were a group of sofas and tables arranged to form a large parlour, on the left then passed next to a long table surrounded by chairs and bordered at the two ends by two large fireplaces built into the back wall and finally, on the opposite side of the entrance there was a large mahogany desk between two smaller doors, even if more than two meters high each, and among them, on the back wall, a bas-relief carved in a very white marble was developed for over six meters up to the ceiling.

The Minister was at that moment near the wet bar on the left side, intent on pouring the sambuca (OOC: italian anise-flavoured liquor) into the coffee that his secretary had just brought, while sitting at one of the high-backed chairs in front of the desk, a man in dark suit had almost finished emptying his cup.
As soon as he had finished to pour the alchol into the coffee, the Minister took the cup, and starting to mix with the spoon, he went back to his chair, exclaiming:
"you are bringing me news at all pleasant Luciano"
"unpleasant or not, now we have to deal with it! Has the President been informed, the Prime Minister instead?"
"I will meet them in a couple of hours at Quattroregni Palace"
"if the opinion of the Director of Intelligence does not disgust you ... well ... you already know what I propose"
"Unfortunately, you would give me the permission immediatly if it depended on you!"
"but since it does not depend on me I say unfortunately! Also because I do not know if the President would support such an idea, especially under elections!"
"We do not have to put up the manifests! There's a reason if they're called 'confidential operations'!"
"and if should work... We would unleash a hornet's nest if someone else of those motherfuckers would die and I remind you that we are doing everything in our power to prevent a conflict"
"sure, because Jelbania and Deltaria arm in arm and another of those bastards in Kafuristan is not already a quite explosive mix?"
"the point is that nobody wants to light the fuse! Not the President, not the Prime Minister, not the Foreign Minister ... no one, not even me!"
"A war is coming and you know it, the chancelleries of half the world have been in tension for years now, the soldiers are trigger-happy and the officers are constantly ready for an invasion and some bombing! Jakania wants a war, Deltaria wants war, even Solentia, hoping they do not want to do it against us... soon Malivia will want another reparative war, Trigunia and those exalted nationalists want a war and even the monarchists and nationalists in Dorvik want it... not to mention Kazulia, at least between a secret operation and another... "
"So what? Should we throw us headlong? Are you so impatient to see bombs raining and burying those fallen at the front?"
"if we could get rid of some of those sons of a bitch, at least we would have to deal with fewer enemies, do not you think?"
"I would rather propose to invade him Kafuristan! We would still look better than to be discovered trying to kill heads of state left and roght"
"'Heads' of state? I would rather say "Dogs"!" (OOC: in Italian the word meaning Heads, "Capi", differs only for one letter from the word meaning dogs, "Cani")
"Call them what you like, but I repeat that it's too risky!"
"And after the elections, heck, who more than a Communist could be happy in getting rid of some 'Fascio-monarchist' or ridiculous spiritual leader of a dead and buried world... What then if... should the Nationalist candidate to win? I never voted for the nationalists, but you can not deny that on the foreign policy they have clear ideas! I'm sure that if that Vespa-Baldassare had to win would fully support such an idea... and also your boss!"
"Who? Di Nacosia-Rohan? I do not think so!"
"I think so, I'm sure, because if your current opinion is such it's because, as you said, we are doing everything possible to keep the peace, but I do not think di Nacosia-Rohan would have objections to an operation conducted with all the necessary precautions! In Jelbania we have still our contacts with the Suadjakai tribe in the north, in Kafuristan... well... I can find you as many as you want of someone excited to take up an RPG! "
The Minister looked at the Director of Intelligence with a broken look, but was thinking carefully about everything he had said and indeed, the Director resumed with more enthusiasm:
"and then, why should someone immediately point the finger at us? We are talking about Kafuristan and especially Jelbania! There are coups, attacks and massacres in alternate years practically! There is someone coming to declare himself Khan in Jelbania? Weel, at least two others would come out to claim the title! In Kafuristan if we do it, at most we would have just to deal with yet another military junta led by a colonel or a general who would also be comfortable to show to be the executioner of the son of a bitch!
"you tempt me!" the Minister answered after another long moment of silence.
"Of course yes, we have worked together for too long to not know that you fully understand my positions, provided that you haven't gone soft doing the politician"
"For an agent on the field it's easy! Whatever could happen, there are the big guys having to invent a nice cover story, but now... we are the big guys Luciano"
"and then let's invent a good cover and help me to convince the right persons! But we must hurry, we have a few months, an year maybe, we must take advantage of the chaos during the phases of regimes change, they will never be so vulnerable!"
"And should we reach the objective? I'm afraid that another son, a nephew, a distant relative, would come out to take his place, in Jelbania that's for sure!"
"but in the meantime we could send someone to the Creator! They had them dislodged from Narikaton, we will never have them ever so weak again!"
"Listen... you have won, I will speak with the President, but I do not assure you anything, in fact, certainly before the election you will never have the go ahead!"
"I can provide details on different options as early as tomorrow! In the meantime you on the upper floors look at them calmly... then you can think better after the elections!"
The Director, decidedly satisfied, stood up and placed the empty cup that had been held in his lap for the whole chat on the desk.
"see you tomorrow Sultan and... please ... be convincing!"
"I will do everything possible... but apart the President, there is still the Parliamentary Commission!"
"the COPACISN has always asked questions after the operations, especially if you do not ask them too many funds!"
"they will not remain silent knowing of such an operation!
"Well... luckily arguing with that mass of mummies picked up votes is your job now Sultan! Bye bye!" he turned, giggling, then walked toward the exit waving his hand.
Alleanza Radicale (Radical Alliance) - Istalia (Active)
User avatar
Posts: 1496
Joined: Mon Aug 01, 2016 8:08 am

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Reddy » Thu Feb 01, 2018 10:26 am

10:45 Shrine of the First H'an, somewhere in northern Perimor, Jelbania

"The H'an Elect will see you now."

Bek Mrjaki rose and walked into the office. The young secretary's contempt for him burned, the way his eyes scrutinised the Bek's regalia... The Bek found himself facing the so called H'an elect - another "foreign oppressor" as the old Bek Vrn had proclaimed yesterday at a meeting of the great Beks of the realm. The would be H'an was a great ox of a man and the Bek found himself transported back to the fields of Deltaria when half a century ago, he had caught a glimpse of the H'an's father Zog the Mad Dog. The Bek bowed which for some reason seemed to make the H'an uncomfortable.

The Bek began, " My lord H'an, as a token of our submission and ratification of the election, I have been sent by the northern clans to present their white stallions and the fosterlings as well." The H'an thanked him and in very choppy Jelbek, replied, "We accept your submission." Jelbenyr(foreign) fool. After a short awkward silence, the H'an gave him a "do I have to kick you out" stare. The Bek gathered his courage and went for it.

"My Lord H'an, if you would oblige me. My dear old wife asked for an equestrian photograph of yours. She wishes to have it turned into a proper painting at some point. Perhaps you could try one of the northern stallions" A quick flicker of irritation passed the H'an and he grimaced and replied, "Certainly, let us go to the stables." The Bek bowed again and led the way. The annoying secretary who clearly needed a whipping rolled her eyes at them. Arriving at the stables, they went to the one with all the northern stallions. The H'an elect brought his entourage of guards. They will not save you. The Bek summoned a stable boy and demanded that he bring Knz, an average looking horse. Knz came and the H'an mounted him.

The Bek stepped back a few yards for good vantage point and then he uttered the phrase so softly. Upon hearing it, Old Knz threw the H'an so high and when he landed, the horse did not stop and rushed to stamp on him as if possessed. The guards and everyone else were so astonished and their eyes trained on the bloody remains of their boss that no one saw a certain old Bek slip away. A victorious smiling Bek.
Posts: 3798
Joined: Wed Feb 27, 2013 7:20 am

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Auditorii » Fri Feb 02, 2018 4:12 am

Hans Essen Straße, Ghacrow, Darnussia
Dramatis Personae
State Commissioner of the State Commissariat "Darnussia and Narikaton" Generalmajor Heinrich Claus von Aeschelman
Chief of Government of the State Commissariat "Darnussia and Narikaton" Domenikus Florian zu Zÿmern und Behm
SD-Sturmbannführer (Major), Volksdundorfische Cultural Association's Geheimdienst Sydel von Völknitz-Siezenhaus
Party Leader of the True People's Party and Narikaton and Darnussian Presidential Candidate Olaf Faustenmeer

State Commissioner Generalmajor Heinrich Claus von Aeschelman stood in his uniform reading over documents regarding the candidates for the Presidency in Narikaton and Darnussia, he was unimpressed by most of them, however, one stood out among the relative boring-ness of candidates a man named Olaf Faustenmeer. "Who is he Domenikus? The State Commissioner turned to his close advisor, Chief of Government of the State Commissariat "Darnussia and Narikaton" Domenikus Florian zu Zÿmern und Behm. Domenikus thumbed through the profile prepared by the Dorvish Armed Forces' Military Security Service as well as attached files from various Dorvish intelligence sources. "Conservative, pro-Republic...alleged terrorist...and more importantly...a nationalist." Domenikus chuckled as he finished. The State Commissioner sighed heavily as Domenikus begun to speak again, however before he could the State Comissioner's secretary opened the door and a man adorned in the uniform of the Main Operations Office of the Volksdundorfische Cultural Association entered. "and can be bought." The man entered into the room removing his black leather gloves while the secretary stood behind him and assisted him in removing his black leather great coat. "Ah, I was thinking that you'd arrive somewhere along the line." Domenikus stood and shook the mans hand. The State Commissioner, himself a member of the Volksdundorfische Cultural Association's general membership, unaware of who the man was. "and I take it Domenikus this one of your many contacts?"

The State Commissioner walked over to the man and shook his hand. "State Commissioner Generalmajor Heinrich Claus von Aeschelman." The State Commissioner introduced himself, somewhat as a show of how important the State Commissioner was, either by truth or his own fictional reality. "Sturmbannführer Sydel von Völknitz-Siezenhaus of the newly renamed Security Service of the Volksdundorfische Cultural Association....pleasure Herr Aeschelman." The two exchanged briefly pleasantries, the State Commissioner offered the man a drink and the Sturmbannführer refused instead taking a seat across from Domenikus. Sydel sat on a large brown leather couch that was separated by a large, brown wooden coffee table where Domenikus was seated on a similar couch, Sydel folded his right leg over his left and began to speak. "He has vices. All men have vices. He is considered a terrorist in some circles...but what is most damning is that he can be bought." Sydel nodded at Domenikus and the State Commissioner who placed his hands in his side pockets and raised an eyebrow at the field grey uniformed man. "and how do you know this?" The State Commissioner was intrigued. Domenikus and Sydel exchanged glances. "Geheimdienst." Domenikus spoke the feared name of the service that officially didn't exist and only a handful of people knew about, Domenikus served as a leading representative of the Volksdundorfische Cultural Association in Dolgavia, where he was a member of the Eastern Homeland Association and achieved a Political Leadership Service rank of Oberbefehlsleiter or Senior Command Leader, one of the most senior VDKV personnel in Dolgavia. The State Commissioner shook his head, he was an intelligent man who was well connected and his brother Felix Anton von Aeschelman had served as an intelligence officer in the Dorvish Foreign Intelligence Service and was a member of the Security Service as well, the upper echelon of the Social Nationalist Party and the Dorvish intelligence community knew of Geheimdienst and by virtue, he'd only heard whispers of it. "Oh."

The State Commissioner was stopped in his tracks by that, that was well above what he wanted to be involved in, all that mattered was that Olaf Faustenmeer, the proclaimed "Defender of Narikaton and Darnussia" who would "Fiercely negotiate" with the Dorvish would be brought to heel. "Herr Aeschelman..." The beautiful brunette secretary knocked on the door, entering because she had been permitted to, spoke in a low tone as if not to interrupt a conversation that was not happening. "Herr Faustenmeer is in the lobby." The State Commissioner nodded. "Bring him in please." The State Commissioner immediately took to his seat while Domenikus cleaned off the table and placed the files regarding the candidates into a desk drawer that sat next to the couch. The State Commissioner, the Chief of Government and the Sturmbannführer all stood as the Presidential candidate strolled into the room with booming confidence, as if he was going to the boxing ring to fight. "I have arrived Herr Staatskommisar!" Faustenmeer confidently bellowed as he reached the large wooden desk of the State Commissioner who fought back the urge to raise an eyebrow. "Welcome Herr Faustenmeer. Please, may I offer you a drink? A cigar? Please please, take a seat." The State Commissioner quickly ignored what the man had to say regarding his application to the fine Dundorfian brandy that sat in eyesight.

The candidate was pointed to sit next to the Sturmbannführer while the State Commissioner sat next to the Chief of Government. Faustenmeer looked briefly at the Sturmbannführer before looking away when the Sturmbannführer looked back at him. "Why is he here? The Dorvish need former police and security thugs to attempt to intimidate me?' Faustenmeer laughed as he spoke. The State Commissioner couldn't resist the urge, he raised his eyebrow and took several dozen photos both in color and black and white and laid them across the table. They showed an array of...behavior that could be detrimental to the candidates Presidential bid and could land him executed by the infant Thaller King. "I was hoping your arrogance would have been left outside but it seems you've brought it with you. These photos are your death warrant and I am the harbinger of death. Your nationalist boasting is annoying and infantile. You work for us. Your elections, we control them. I could say a million and one things but I am going to keep this very straight forward. You agree to whatever we tell you to agree with or the press gets these and your corpse is hung from the steps of the legislature." The State Commissioner stood up, in a small fit of rage, being closely monitored by both the Sturmbannführer and the Chief of Government. Faustenmeer looked over at the dozens of photos, sometimes his eyes going wide and shortly after a heavy sigh and looked up shook his head at the State Commissioner. "I'm going to be executed either way." Faustenmeer wasn't wrong, after he had served his purpose he'd likely be killed. "While that might be true, you serve a purpose and that purpose is to serve me."

Faustenmeer nodded. "We'll be in touch Herr Staatskommisar. I understand why you wanted me to be here today. I agree...for now." Faustenmeer, visibly shaken and angry, stood up and stormed out of the room. The State Commissioner and the other two gave looks. "Deploy the 1st Security Regiment to the government headquarters. Sturmbannführer...form a platoon and serve as the personal bodyguard to the future President. I think he'll get the message then." The State Commissioner stood and walked over to the mini-bar and poured himself a drink. The Sturmbannführer looked at Domenikus and Domenikus returned an affirmative nod. "Absolutely Herr Staatskommisar." The Sturmbannführer saluted and left the room. "Where did you find him Domenikus?" The State Commissioner sipped his drink as he quickly turned around. "Lorman noble family, served in the Dorvish Army, later served in the Foreign Department of the State Security Service in Dolgavia with the Eastern Homeland Association." The Chief of Government peered out the large windows overlooking the Krähe (Crow) River and the State Commissioner sighed. "Let us hope this works."
World Congress Coordinator and Third World Coordinator
Global Roleplay Committee
Posts: 1343
Joined: Wed Mar 29, 2017 2:51 am

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Mbites » Sat Feb 03, 2018 11:12 am

Hafenplatz 1, Oderveldhafen, Clenon

They were able to hear the raindrops fall onto the roof of the warehouse they were in.
"Is it safe here?" asked the insecure former junior officer Richard Fahrgast of the Anti-Thallerist Activity Investigation Bureau.
"Ah, don't be such a Schwuchtel." answered the experienced Frank Bachhals.
"We're just here to get some documents which might make the monarchy look a bit bad."
Bachhals and Fahrgast both shouldered some boxes full of folders which were classified. Some of them looked like they were a hundred years old.
They loaded the boxes into an old van, the outside of the storage part of the van was decorated by a large Thallerist Eagle.
Fahrgast scratched his head "Who did this previously? I mean.. the ATAIB was a rather young institution and the monarchy had prior stability issues."
The mentor-like Bachhals answered with a surprising "I do not know. And I do not want to know. They're still files of the old Guarded Camps in here. I think the Thallers had a far more loyal police force back then. Today they have the military on the better side."
"You worried?" Asked the veteran.
"Well, yes. What if any of these documents became public?"
"We'd hang."
"Now come on, let's drive to that family transport ship and get these files to Thaller fortress."

The two former officers enter the vehicle, Fahrgast as driver and Bachhals as passenger.
"Have you ever been to Thaller Fortress?" asked the Richard.
"No, but my dad. He worked in the family press department."
"Damn, your dad must have been very ambitious."
"Ach Quatsch. He was just a bootlicker."
"Apropo bootlicker, you really think that Faustenmeer was bribed by the dorvish?"
"Bribed? I dont know, I think they intimidated him with their security."
"Ugh, I really dont like their presence, it feels like what we're doing is illegal."
"Technically it is."
"Oh I almost forgot..."
Most of the time ruling Narikaton without opposition.
User avatar
Posts: 494
Joined: Sat May 07, 2016 11:15 am
Location: Thaller Fortress

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Zanz » Mon Feb 05, 2018 4:28 pm

Inglian Volunteer Force (IVF) encampment, roughly 20 kilometers north of Cut-Off, Rift Province, New Englia
0300 hours

The camp in the mountains of Rift province was finally beginning to quiet some after hours of dizzied celebration precipitated by the successful assassination of an Onglian lawyer, who Lieutenant Alexei Tereschenko of the 3rd Spetskomanda Brigade had heard was a woman named Uí Banáin, by what the IVF called a "strike force" but which Tereschenko considered better labeled an "armed mob." The camp's fighting men, drunk and exhausted, were strewn upon the leaf-covered forest floor, their outlines illuminated in leaping yellows and oranges by the large fires they had lit to roast several emaciated goats they must have stolen from Onglian herders nearby. The insufferable twang of what the Inglians considered to be "good music" still belched from a radio one of the fighters had set on a stool outside his tent, and Tereschenko walked to turn it off, shaking his head at the debaucherous scene through which he trod.

Tereschenko had been attached as an "observer" with this particular IVF war band for nearly a month. He'd come to know its leader, who titled himself "Colonel" despite no obvious qualification for the position or even for military work, besides, perhaps, a rare penchant for supreme cruelty. The Colonel's hair was heavy at all times with grease, and now, passed out drunk with his men on a bench by one of the smaller fires, head lolling forward and lit cigarette limply in hand, that hair fell in thick clumps forward, over his gaunt face, an ugly and evil look, fit for the forests of these mountains, so full of men perpetrating heinous deeds. It was the Colonel who Tereschenko liased with directly, the Colonel who received, on darker nights than this, shipments of weapons with no serial numbers, delivered in unmarked crates pulled into the mountains by teams of mules, with a knowing wink to his Trigunian advisor.

The lieutenant held no misconceptions about the state of things in New Englia. The Onglians and the Yeudis were as barbaric as these drunken thugs, and the Metzist political leanings which motivated them promised the possibility of a dangerous epidemic if the infection were not treated here, in the high valleys of a place God forgot, at its source. On sorties with his charges, Tereschenko had seen the result of Beiteynu's influence, had witnessed the devastation wrought by those whom the drunkards celebrated killing tonight.

As the music ended with the satisfying click of the dial, Tereschenko's attention was drawn to a moving tent flap across the camp's central clearing. From inside a tent distinct from the others emerged Behm, a Dorvish military advisor dispatched for nominally the same purpose as Tereschenko, to observe and report on the state of things in New Englia, but who Tereschenko knew was also here simply on orders, just like him. The lieutenant nodded at the Dorvishman, who anywhere else in the world might be his enemy, but who here, in the shit, was the only other bastion of a world not gone mad with bloodlust, and the Dorvishman returned the nod, his face shrouded in flickering shadow.

Retiring to his tent, Tereschenko knew that tomorrow the IVF men would be roaring in pain, their minds swollen with liquor and their lips still tasting of vomit. Their actions today, celebrate them as they may, would never be acknowledged by the New Englian authorities, even if the IVF claimed them. It was this blank check which gave them the right to celebrate murder with such abandon. Hung over or not, though, and recognized or not, tomorrow the Colonel would call on them to begin planning their next great murder, targeting their next woman, or lawyer, or children, and he'd do it holding a Trigunian rifle, and he'd do it in Tereschenko's sight.
Official Troll King since 8/14/2013.
User avatar
Posts: 1296
Joined: Sat Jul 11, 2009 4:13 pm

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Auditorii » Mon Feb 12, 2018 3:45 am

Hans Essen Straße, Ghacrow, Darnussia
Dramatis Personae
Chief of Government of the State Commissariat "Darnussia and Narikaton" - Domenikus Florian zu Zÿmern und Behm
SD-Sturmbannführer (Major), Volksdundorfische Cultural Association's Geheimdienst - Sydel von Völknitz-Siezenhaus
Befehlsleiter (Command Leader), Volksdundorfische Cultural Association's Main Volksdundorfische Office - Jörn Roehr
Hauptman, Military adjutant to the Chief of Government Johannes von Göthaus

Chief of Government Domenikus Florian zu Zÿmern und Behm sat in his office, a tint of smoke in the air of the cool office. The Chief of Government was looking through papers regarding the State Commissariat as the knock on the door interrupted his train of focus. "Ja?" Domenikus spoke as his secretary entered the room and spoke regarding the arrival of SD-Sturmbannführer Sydel von Völknitz-Siezenhaus, his trusted ally the Commander of the Narikaton and Darnussian Presidential Guard. "What is it?" Domenikus spoke as the Sturmbannführer entered into the room in a quickened pace. "The Dorvishnationale Volkspartei has folded." Sydel spoke as he caught his breath. Domenikus stood up and looked at him. "When are elections?" Domenikus grabbed his phone and made a phone call for someone. "They are being organized in a few short days." As Sydel finished his sentence another man entered into the room, his uniform that of a member of the Political Leadership Corps of the Volksdundorfische Cultural Association. Jörn Roehr, a Befehlsleiter in the Main Volksdundorfische Office, entered into the room. "Has anyone been in contact with Diethelm?" Roehr tugged on his uniform jacket and shortly behind him followed Hauptman Gereon von Göthaus, the brother of Generalkommissar of Kozaria Wilhelm Florian von Göthaus.

"These god damn political parties cannot keep in tact. Luckily the Socialist have fucken gone, but them the largest party in the State Council?" complained Jörn Roehr who worked within the political sphere of Dorvish government. "Hopefully the electorate will vote the way we want them to. God knows that the SNP struggled even with our backing." Roehr, a Dorvish conservative was never a fan of the Social Nationalist Party but at the end of the day, that is the way the VDKV had supported their Dorvish operations. Many of the VDKV's donors had supported the SNP whole-heartily and welcomed their influence into the VDKV. The SNP was the main front for organizing political activities of the VDKV in Dorvik and served as the chief organizer of the right-wing in Dorvik, they also were the main reason that the Dorvish nobility were able to regain much of their former power. Domenikus slammed his hand on his desk, meant to interrupt Roehr's rant. "Enough! I will not have you disparage the King and Kaiser's choice for a political front!" Demnikus stepped forward. The VDKV was heavily involved in all aspects of propping up the Kaiser and when the King of Dorvik, their favored choice, was chosen as the new Kaiser, it was an incredibly powerful moment and the VDKV's influence and authority increased ten-fold.

"We will monitor it closely. I have been in contact with the Ministerial Council for the Leadership of War and they have informed me that they are closely monitoring the situation. We've got contacts everywhere and even with the recent change in leadership in Narikaton and Darnussia, we have a home god forbid something goes wrong." The Chief of Government spoke, almost ten years into the State Commissariat and they had developed a very large system of informants, friends and others.
World Congress Coordinator and Third World Coordinator
Global Roleplay Committee
Posts: 1343
Joined: Wed Mar 29, 2017 2:51 am


Return to World Events

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests