«12. . .3,2643,2653,2663,2673,2683,269»
The Rains fall lightly on the Zinnia
Akane Ármann sat down with a hot drink to relax in front of her telescreen. The dimly lit apartment and the dreary weather outside stood in stark contrast to a brightly colored and vibrant scenery of the nature documentary that played out on her telescreen. Her home sound system making it sound like she was surrounded by animals and nature. Her mind wandered as she laid back on her old recliner. Yesterday when going out after work with her colleagues she had run into an old acquaintance. They had almost gone past one another without noticing and she didn’t even remember his name to begin with. They had greeted and asked how things were before parting once more. She wondered if she should call him. Tomorrow maybe.
Her phone vibrated as if reading her mind and she smiled unknowingly to herself. Reaching for her phone she didn’t notice that the sound system had gone silent. She awakened the dead screen and was faced with a red letter shaped notification. Her telescreen displayed the same sign before she pressed it open.
The national emblem appeared followed by the Wehrmacht insignia and her heart sank. Her eyes darting down the text as she groaned. It was a summoning for military duty. A mandatory exercise and here engineering company was up.
She put the phone away. Around her the sound of running gazelles could be heard once more. She rubbed her temples and contemplated the news. Within 64 hours she had to report to base. Someone at work would have to take over her current project. It would set the office back at least a week if not more. At least one day of freedom remained before she had to get her stuff in order and head out. She grabbed her phone and called her old acquaintance.
**********
Olev Jaagup undid his linen shirt the moment he was inside the door and the cool temperature of the apartment embraced his dark skin. The fur on his body removed by laser years ago. In the living room is teenage son was drowsing in front of the telescreen that was set on some news channel for pop culture.
”This is the biggest joint Roman-Aatelisian film production to date!” exclaimed a confident man that Olev thought he recognized. “It blows any previous project out of the water.”
Moving over to the kitchen to see what was left in the fridge the telly could still be heard. ”..it’s going to be radical. We got an all star cast and crew with Carol Leone doing the directing, the script is written by these two legendary Aatelisian brothers. Some of the real top of the line Aatelisian actors are with us like....”
Olev heard his tablet vibrate from a notification on the kitchen sink as he closed the door to the abyssal fridge. He walked over only to be faced with a bright letter shaped icon covering the screen. Reacting on the unusual design of the notification he pressed the icon which revealed a letter from the ministry of foreign affairs.
Dear Olev Jaagup, son of the Union.
Your birthplace of Aatelisia stands threatened by the ever increasing threat of national populism. In the times to come Aatelisia will go to vote and should their missguided citizens be all too fooled by empty promises then so tightens the populist noose.
Should it be that you still have familial ties to Aatelisia then please, both for your new home, and for those innocent lives that remain at your old one, consider writing to those left behind. Consider warning them of the impending danger.
We’re all ultimately responsible for our actions, but it is all too easy to fall prey for the sweetest of lies.
Olev looked up from the strange letter and at his son dozing off in the sofa. He thought of his parents. He hadn’t done that in a long time.
**********
Broad shouldered and notoriously grumpy, Tierra Lygia, Chief Inspector of the New Genéve Metropolitan Police Department. The massive table in front of her was one big telescreen displaying a series of crime scene pictures. Camera and drone footage played on screens on the walls alongside muted sound uptakes. Hovering above the table was a high definition hologram of the district mortician on duty which had just finished explaining the death of John Roberts and David Milisen in gruesome and dreary detail.
Captain Julius Korneli of the National Gendarmerie Service stood next to Lygia, having heard the same report from the mortician. His face was a strained blank slate.
“Are we done now? Had your little fun yet?” Lygia grunted. She was a head shorter than Korneli but with twice the presence.
“Would you like it if I said no?” Korneli asked while fighting off a sigh. His presence had been an unwanted one and then he hadn’t even counted in the chewing out he had received from the fire department.
“No, I’d call you a prick.”
“Then I didn't say it.”
“Prick...” Lygia’s face morphed as she stoped herself from spitting on the floor. She had damages and a ripe mess on her hands thanks to the NGS and whoever got away with doing their thinking for them. “I sure hope this horse dung of a farce was worth it.”
Korneli sighed. Looking at things now he fully agreed with her. But that was neither here nor there. Instead he put on a stoic face. “I just had word that we’ve retrieved the culprit. Before the mortician called I mean.”
“Not apprehended?” Lygia asked with venom.
“Our agents tried to tranq him without being noticed but he still managed to chew on a suicide pill. He’s being brought in for autopsy.”
“It’s bloody austonding that they would even have the brains to carry the pills. What da frakk did they even suspect would happen playing cloak and dagger in the middle of the city?” Lygia was really getting her steam going. “We wrote the bloody book on mass surveillance for frakks sake. Some Ruzalkan hillbilly without an interlink stands out like a sore thumb. John Roberts death was identified by the network within an hour. We have every sensory reading and GPS log from the Voyagare ever since the Ruzalkan entered it. We could have arrested him before lunch and for frakks sake why wasn’t Milisen locked up in some facility?”
“It got our John Doe to reavele and liquidate himself.” Korneli remarked offhandedly as if commenting on the weather.
“The bloody tapestry in that burned out apartment was worth more than some bloody self inflicted liquidation! The moment he had tried to get near some a restricted area or if the Ruzalkans finally decided to take leave of their senses and declare war the KBP would have put a bullet through his head!” shouted Lygia. “I’m going to make it excruciatingly clear in my report what I think of this entire farce.”
And here I thought we were getting along so nicely, Korneli wanted to say. The sarcasm tasting like acid on his lips but he kept his mouth closed. At least now the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had gotten plenty of ammunition.
Homeland Defense Initiative, Part III
Director Wells could hear the kind doctor that just woke him up screaming outside. It came through in bits and pieces, perhaps because he wasn’t fully awake yet, but one part was clear for him: a name.
”...Morin. You’re not even a nurse, you’re…”
Morin was not the name of a nurse. Director Wells already knew that much, though. He paid a woman by the name of Morin every other week for basic PR duties, and she told him dozens of times over as many cocktails that she was an only child. She was unusually proud of that fact. All the same, though, Morin was not a common name, and this nurse’s name was Cambrian, not Sarah, and the two bore almost no resemblance. As quickly as it came, the thought vanished from his mind. His fatigue grasped him once more, and he fell back asleep.
~
Cambrian Morin twisted the key to her apartment the wrong way as she tried to unlock it after getting home from work. Swearing lightly, she turned it correctly and opened the door. To anyone else, such a mistake would be an accident, but as a doctor-in-training, such a mistake could mean life or death in the operating room. She laughed at the title she gave herself: doctor-in-training. Ever since her sister’s seizure, she hadn’t set foot on a university campus, much less attended lectures. Studying medicine was difficult. After doffing her coat and hat, Cambrian set the bags of groceries on the glass countertop. Her reflection stared back at her.
Studying medicine is difficult.
The bags contained various culinary odds and ends- a loaf of bread, a dozen eggs, a head of lettuce, three pounds of meat, a few tomatoes, avocado, some wine, a few bananas, and some spices. She’d make bacon, eggs, and toast tomorrow morning to celebrate the start of the week. She smiled just a bit, imagining the way she had perfected her breakfast cooking. After a brief moment of excitement, Cambrian swore again. Her sister hated eggs. She began to empty the bags into the refrigerator, locking eyes once again with her reflection, this time in a mirror on a magnet.
The yolk needs to stay runny to flavor the toast…
Two bedrooms adjoined to the kitchen and living room area in her apartment. One was hers, the other her sister’s. Together, they could make rent in a decently nice place, and they had always been relatively close. Over the years, staying together just… worked. The hardest part, of course, was the seizure. Beforehand, her sister had worked long hours in a factory to make rent while Cambrian used the life insurance money from her mom’s recent heart attack to pay tuition to the College of Medicine at a local university. Afterwards, the roles almost reversed- Cambrian used the remainder of the insurance money to pay for nursing certification and accepted employment at the first clinic to take her. Meanwhile, her sister stayed in her hospital bed watching online political science lectures. Her sister would graduate three years later despite the excruciating course load of her accelerated graduation timeline, but she would stay in the same clinic the whole time- and would, in fact, never leave.
Cambrian entered her room, leaving her sister’s door closed. A desk covered in various makeup trays greeted her, as well as an open closet filled with fancy clothing. Several worn political science textbooks were strewn about on her bed, some covered in notes. Exhausted, she tossed them off onto the floor, collapsing into her bed. Eventually, she decided to roll over and turn on the TV.
”...The Council has officially declared voting in the Congresses of the Military, Economy and Interior on the topic of an ambitious new bill, dubbed the Homeland Defense Initiative. This program would seek to secure the Councilship from any foreign threats by increasing defense spending, redoubling attempts to reconstruct the Idginkers C.R., and repositioning key orbital assets. Critics claim that the inexperienced Director Wells is jumping at his own shadow here; Celoniae has always been safe from international turmoil, and has long held the title of the greatest power on Arpalia. There are no threats, critics claim, that would justify the additional expenses of a bill such as the Homeland Defense Initiative in peacetime. This, of course, raises an important question, one posed by Chairman of the Military Congress Jackson Rayburn in the most recent session: ‘Does Director Wells know that the Councilship is at peace?’ To some, however, the Councilship is not. The recent claims and actions of the expansionist Ruzalkan state intimidate some Celoniaens, who believe that the Initiative may be the shield that the Councilship needs to protect itself.
Idginkerian representatives are understandably more eager to pass this bill than those from other parts of the nation; the Centraelis metropolitan area and most of northern Celoniae is predicted to vote against the bill. The future of the bill is still up in the air- whether it passes or fails, it will do so just barely. David Greens, a political scientist for the Centraelis Sentinel, will elaborate after the break.”
Cambrian’s eye twitched at the mention of the name. David Greens was in many of her sister’s classes, and in fact dated her sister for a few months. That short-lived relationship was a point of perverse pride for Cambrian- the night after they broke up, David slept with Cambrian and left quite the essay on her sister’s door about why Cambrian was so much better in bed. It turned out to be just a one night stand, but it satisfied Cambrian’s competitive side.
Cambrian sighed, grabbing a bottle of wine from her nightstand. She shouldn’t think back to those times. The bottle was empty, but she could not summon the energy to go to the kitchen and get another. Instead, she opened a drawer in the nightstand, revealing a bottle of cheap Aatelisian vodka. She grabbed the bottle and took a swig. Almost immediately she felt better. The sounds of the advertisements faded away as she had another drink. The world was still fvcked, but at least she could satisfy herself. Her sister would often go out drinking when she was in school, despite the warnings on her medication. Perhaps that’s what brought about the second seizure, the one that nobody heard-or would ever hear- about. Perhaps that’s what brought Cambrian to stop just supporting Sarah Morin, and to fully become her.
Perhaps that in itself was why she drank so much. Living the lives of two people was quite exhausting.
Cracks
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>>>SYSTEM ONLINE
>>>LOGIN|CODEWORD REQUIRED
>>>TRUTH IS BURDENED BY DECEIT
>>>USER AUTHENTICATED
>>>ESTABLISHING SECURE CONNECTION. PLEASE STANDBY
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>>>SECURE CONNECTION ESTABLISHED
>>>A-5 IS NOW IN ATTENDANCE
>>>CURRENT MEMBERS IN ATTENDANCE: A-1, A-2, A-3, A-4, A-5, A-6
>>>ALL MEMBERS NOW IN ATTENDANCE
>>>CONFERENCE MAY NOW COMMENCE
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A-1: It has been a long while since our last discussion, but I am sure you all know exactly why we are here, no?
A-3: You’re going to have to refresh my memory here because we’re dealing with many issues that have, quite frankly, blindsided this council. Are we here to discuss the ongoing demonstrations in the capital? Or how about the fact that there may be elements within Atlexil that seek to overthrow the government?
A-5: That last part isn’t that much concerning, to be honest. What is concerning though is the real possibility of a fifth-column among our citizenry, and the events ongoing in the capital is just further evidence of national populism being a danger to this country.
A-4: Fifth-column? Are you seriously considering people who are rightfully dissatisfied with the current state of things to be fifth-columnists?
A-5: I'm correct in my assertion and fully stick by it. I've said it before in prior meetings but national populism is a threat that must be quashed in this country before it escalates.
A-2: The people are only acting this way because this country is now facing a crisis of identity and has been in the past pulled into the petty squabbling of children. We were a republic, then a populist state during the revolutions, and now we're part of a dual-monarchy. A dual-monarchy that is looked at by segments of the populace as a betrayal of populistic values.
A-6: If I may interject but can we please focus on the potential coup? Compared to everything else that's the most concerning matter.
A-3: What about it? The only things that provide any existence of this "coup" are subversive materials that call out the hypocrisy of the chancellor and the "betrayal" that is the Mediastrum. There is nothing to be worried about and jumping at the shadows during a time like this will help no one at all.
A-5: I think the fact that these subversive materials exist in the first place is more than enough evidence to begin jumping at the shadows. For all we know, these dissident elements could be responsible for the demonstrations and I strongly believe that this council should field an investigation.
A-2: Is this going to be exactly like Rozalia again? I thought having egg on your face would've made you more humble after that, but I guess I was wrong then.
A-5: Rozalia was only a disaster because the proper resources weren't allocated to the operation. Dina.
A-2: No. It was a disaster because your little eyes jumped the gun and ended up getting good people killed due to your department's bullshit excuse of "OPSEC". Thirty-five people died that day due to arrogant stupidity and I would rather not see it be repeated.
A-1: Enough. While I am quite aware of how charged the subject of Rozalia is for the few that were involved but I will remind you all to maintain a modicum of decorum while we're here.
A-6: Shall we call a vote concerning this matter? At the very least, a cursory investigation should be satisfactory for all in attendance.
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>>>A-1 HAS CALLED FOR A VOTE: CONDUCT CURSORY INVESTIGATION
>>>YAY VOTES: 3 TOTAL, NAY VOTES: 2 TOTAL, ABSTAINS: 1 TOTAL
>>>VOTE HAS BEEN PASSED
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A-1: We will return and have further discussion on how to properly address the demonstrations. This conference is now adjourned.
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A-1 HAS ENDED CONNECTION
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A-5 HAS ENDED CONNECTION
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CONFERENCE NOW OVER
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(Author's Note: Well, I have a few things to start getting ready for Atlexil...Dear god the plot bunnies aren't gonna leave me alone now. Hope everyone is having a good time though.)
National News
This is Mediastrum News, bringing you the latest updates
“Good evening, I’m Kurt and this Mediastrum news”
“Today the government announced it will be drafting up plans to start expanding and developing the lands east on the island. All we know for now is that some sort of ‘lottery’ will take place somewhere in the near future.
In other news the Emperor has announced it will visit Atlexil to speak with its local parliament and discuss its future and development as well as discussing Atlexil plans to unite its two separated parts on the northern continent.
Furthermore tensions are still rising across the globe between the alliances of The Axis and The SFA and an arms race seems to be developing. Here to join is Peter. Peter could you inform us a bit about the situation?”
“Certainly Kurt. As we know countries became more alert after the Populist Revolutions across the globe. Especially the Ruzalkan Civil War and its war with Valyria, which we supported. In response to that, some nations formed the Sovereign Free Assembly, SFA as its known, was established. Hostilities kept growing but that’s most of the intel we have so far.”
“Thanks Peter, And that all for tonight. We’ll be back tomorrow”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Hey folks, sorry for the short story. Private life is keeping me pretty occupied, I'll do my best to get more post up soon.
The Title Is There Is No Title
“Hello, and welcome journalists and reporters to this week’s press conference, as you may know I am Moises Valentini, Nysidan Palace Press Secretary. During this time you may ask questions to our Generalissimo, Hugo Cojocarus directly on a variety of topics. Do note that being allowed within the Nysidan Palace Press Room is a privilege, so do tread carefully.”
Cojocarus scanned the room as Valentini began his introduction. Several people were fanning themselves with their notes in their seats, apparently bothered by the humidity that accompanied with this time of year. The muggy feeling in the room was not helped by the amount of people currently present, the ceiling fan above barely serving its purpose, instead only giving a buzzing ambient sound.
Press conferences have always been his least favorite part of the job. He always kept his personal interactions with journalists both foreign and domestic to a minimum, or at least tried to. The desperation for the next big scoop and the constant repetition of questions made him slightly uneasy, especially when it comes to the international press. However, with the advent of more and more crises within Marossia and the international community need for them has risen quite considerably. The presence of his press secretary has made things considerably less agitating, at the very least, most of the nonsense of that particular variety may be passed on to him to deal with. However, at the very least Cojocarus himself would have to be present for questioning at a fairly regular interval, lest he become known as the “Hermit Generalissimo” for years to come.
His press secretary did not necessarily put out the image that Marossia wanted to project to the world, at least physically. The man was rather heavy, was nearing old age, and had a pattern of balding that gave his hairline a peculiar “M” shape. The state tended to choose candidates for appointed office that would represent the physical superiority of the Marossian people, those that would actually fit Military criteria. However, Valentini’s saving grace was that he was damn good at his job, there was a tipping point where being able to excel at the particular duty was far more important than appearances, which allowed him to beat out the younger, more fit options on the shortlist for that cabinet position.
“Is the Generalissimo ready to receive questions at this time?” Valentini asked, turning back towards Cojocarus. Cojocarus nodded.
Valentini nodded back.
“The Generalissimo shall begin taking questions at this time, we will begin with the gentleman in the back.”
A young man stood up from his chair. “Yes, hello, my name is Ambrosio Padovan and I write for the Tylisselium Post, for the neglected infrastructure in our new South, the railways in particular, are there any plans to bring that up to modern standards, or will new structures be built to replace them?”
“Excellent question. We will be doing a mix of both, many of the cities in the South that have been abandoned are in bad shape. We will be doing mass renovations of these cities, of course, while leaving structures that are still usable untouched. The roads that were not in use during the reign of illegitimate state shall also be repaved as needed, as the jungle growth has damaged many of these. The railroads however had maintained constant use, and have been well maintained so all that needs to be done is connecting them to the Northern lines.”
“Next question.” Valentini yelled, pointing towards the middle of the room. “You there.”
“I am Adriene Cremonesi, for the Dyta Times, I just want to ask, how do you intend on integrating the Southern Maro into larger Marossian society? After two centuries, our societies have converged quite a bit.”
“Excellent question, while our Southern brethren have diverged quite a bit, their core identity has not been touched. The changes between us are minor, necessitated by the need for them to be isolated from the dominated Krakian society. We have begun setting up social programs to aid with the integration, and we encourage parents to have their children join the Phoenix Youth Legion to instil in them the proper values.” Cojocarus replied.
“Alright, next question, the blonde woman seated towards the right wall.” Valentini barked.
“Yes, my name is Ludmilla Cybulka, and I am representing Kashaniva News Network. My question is, how do you reconcile the brutality and destruction you have allowed with this war, with your desire to be seen as a reformer?”
“...Pardon me, miss?”
“The war with Krakheim. Do you think the amount of force you used was appropriate? So much force you destroyed millions of egg nests dooming the Krakian species to extinction?”
“Those weren’t the intended targets in the war, they were just unfortunately hit in the crossfire.”
“Unfortunately, hmm?” She paused for a few seconds, for dramatic effect. “As unfortunate as all the Krakian villages leveled as a result of the firebombing, killing millions?”
“Those villages either contained combatants or weaponry.”
“Combatants and weapons...perhaps...the Marossian definition of combatants is broad? Extending to...the elderly and children?”
“Excuse me? I think-”
“Do you think calling a war for the flimsiest reason-”
“The war was justified, I don’t see how you expect-”
“Do you enjoy hurting others, Mr. Generalissimo? Do you enjoy watching suffering?” The young journalist cried out, arms being grabbed roughly by the guardsmen. “Do you even realize what you have done? Do you even care? You’ve wiped out an entire civilization, an entire race!” She practically screeched while twisting and pulling away from her captors.
“There is blood on your hands Mr. Cojocarus, the blood of innocents! You and your ilk will rot for what you have done!” The sound of her heels dragging on the marble floor was near inaudible over the sound of her voice.
She screeched further as the guards attempted to drag her through the doors. “You are not a Reformer, you are a Murder, a driver of Genocide. You are filth!”
The door slammed shut, and an uncomfortable silence hung over the press room.
“...I...do believe we are done for the day. No more questions.” Cojocarus declared, frozen faced. “...If my press secretary would, follow me outside, please.”
Valentini blinked, then nodded. “Of course, sir. Members of the press, please follow the guards to find the proper exits, thank you.”
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In the safety of his office he was able to express and process his thoughts. Unfiltered. No press, no diplomats, no need to keep up appearances. It was a much needed refuge from the near insanity that has enveloped himself, and his nation from the moment he entered office.
A privacy, he was very, very much grateful for as he stared at the portly man in front of him.
“What the hell was that?” Cojocarus seethed. “I thought foreign reporters were barred.”
“No, no sir...not every country.” Valentini mumbled.
Cojocarus sighed. Of course. Enough incidents have already happened to where it certainly felt like they have been, anyhow.
“...Make it so, if you would please. Send out a statement, I don’t care how you spin it. We don’t need another one of...that.”
Valentini nodded. “Of course, I’ll begin a draft promptly.” He began walking towards the door before pausing, and slowly turned back towards Hugo. “Should I...cancel next month’s press conference?”
“...Just go please.”
“Alright, alright...” Valentini relented, before walking away and closing the door behind him.
Atlexil, Aatelisia, and Fostland
Map Update February 2nd, 2020
Post self-deleted by New bej.
Servoth, The United Roman Reich, Aelythium, Nerokhori, and 1 otherYechia
Map Update February 9th, 2020
Just Another Day
Elliot groaned as he collected his jacket under his arm while balancing his coffee and briefcase in the other. He knew he should’ve grabbed the small instead, might’ve been easier to carry, and by The Father it’d have been better for his cholesterol. He shook his head slightly as he collected himself, self-assured that the coat and his briefcase were secure under his arms. With a small ding, the elevator doors finally opened, and he was able to walk into the clean modern-looking elevator. Maneuvering himself, he managed to jab at the floor 56 button with his elbow, pressing it on his second try. Smiling contently, he waited for the doors to close, until he heard a voice call out from further down in the lobby. “ Hold the door! Hold the damn door!” Elliot quickly jabbed his foot into the way of the elevator doors, recognizing the voice almost immediately. Turning the corner and entering the elevator was a short man, balding on top, with a pair of large spectacles just barely still sitting on the tip of his nose.
He entered the elevator and nodded his head at Elliot, as he breathed heavily, attempting to catch his breath. As the doors slid closed, he recovered and looked up at Elliot, who was a good foot taller than him. “ Thanks kid, you saved my bacon. The President would kill me if I was late to a session again.” Looking at Elliot’s full hands, he smiled. “ I’d shake your hands, but it looks like they’re full. Either way, my name’s—“
“ Alexander Masser, of course. I know who you are! You were the commander of Tipathica’s military during the closing days of the Reunification War!” Elliot interrupted frantically, as he attempted to shift the objects in his arms to free up his right hand.
Masser smiled at the younger man, “ So you know me, well, then what’s your name son?”
Finally freeing his hand, Elliot reached out and vigorously shook Masser’s hand, grinning like a loon the entire time. “ My name is Elliot, I’m one of the aides to Senator Descho. I had no idea I’d meet someone as important as you when I signed up for this internship.”
Masser chuckled sheepishly, “ I don’t know how important I am, I’m just a general, it’s the Senators who do the real work. After all, they’re the ones who’re voting on the isolation act today, not me.” The elevator doors slid open as it reached floor 56, exposing the grand marble foyer which led to the Senate Hall. Masser and Elliot walked into the foyer, and Messer held out his hand to shake Elliot’s. “ It was good to meet you Son, and well, I suppose I owe you for the door, you need anything, you come find me.”
Elliot smiled and babbled as Masser shook his hand and began to walk away, “ Of course, Sir. Absolutely, thank you Sir. I will, sir.” After standing for a moment, watching as Masser headed off into one of the numerous ancillary corridors in the lobby, he seemed to remember that he was in a rush and dashed into the Senate Hall.
—————-
Masser entered into the meeting room, nodding at the heads of State from Dromchi, Petroburg and Drammer, as he worked his way to his seat. President Devrae shot him a glance as he entered, taking note of his lateness, but didn’t pause in his report to draw attention to it. “ As you know gentlemen, the Senate is voting now whether to reopen our borders, and declare ourselves a sovereign nation. We’ve been working towards this for a long time, ever since the Reunification wars ripped us apart so long ago. We’ve moved from colony of a failed state, to a functional country of our own. It’s time for us to introduce ourselves to the world, and to finally remove ourselves from being confined to this pathetic island.” He turned back to look out the massive window which covered the easternmost wall of the meeting room, and gazed out across Capitol City, where the celebrations celebrating Dervesh’s newfound public identity had already begun.
Autochthonia Introduction:
Rising from the Darkness
"It was told, in the times of old, that a terrible calamity would cover the world in ice, fire and lightning. So, our ancestors, in the fear of such prophecy, abandoned the surface, for only in the bowels of the earth would we be safe.."
The Proceptor, guiding the class of the Infants in the crèche, used a 3d Hologram to exhibit to the young ones an artistical concept of the Exile, the time where an ancient catastrophe would devour the world, and the only means to escape this event was to hide beneath the earth, and wait for the terror to pass.
"We then begun to see that life underground was not more safe then in the surface - much by the contrary: cave-ins, inundations, gas build-ups, lack of oxigen, lack of heat dispersal... the dangers only piled one over the other."
The image of the 3d Hologram changed, showing the diferent dangers cited by him, and much more.
"But, after long praying and claiming for someone to hear our pleas for help, we had been heard: Autochthon, The Engine-Father and Lord of Gears heard us, and by the means of his Prophet, Agnes Sonnedottir, that we begun to have the means to guard ourselves against danger."
Then the image changed, showing the Jàrnalfar on their knees, crying in despair and pleading, and from above, a beautiful female appeared, carrying a book, a torch, and a hammer.
"The First Tools granted us much:
The Book allowed us to never forget and never become too dependent on our own memories or points of view, and from them to learn from people who are not in front of us or long dead;
The Flame allowed us to face the darkness without fear, giving us courage and guiding us to safety;
The Hammer allowed us to forge tools, incredible things, and the means to guard ourselves against the vagaries of Fate;
It showed then the image of an elder individual writing in a gigantic tome; a female carrying a torch and pointing it against shadow-like shapes; and a muscular man, with his hammer ready to fall upon a piece of metal.
"But it was necessary much more for us to thrive in the darkness. We still needed more tools, and more means to garantee that, one day, we could withstand the Exile, and finaly walk beneath the sun.
So, by the blessings of the Book, we had found a way to change our own bodies: an alchemical concoction allowed us to see better in the dark, and to shield our bodies against the oppressive heat. The enhancement, however, was primitive, and many of us died. But the ones who survived the process from that day onwards were guarded against much of the dangers that exist underground"
The image changed again, now showing a group of Proceptors offering to the people and one another a vial of liquid, drinking it, and while some fell ill and died, some begun to change: their skin darkened, but walking beneath waves of heat without complain or pain; and their eyes glowing red like glowing coals, allowing him to see in complete darkness.
"And from that day onwards, we continued to grow and prosper: the Book allowed us to carrying our accumulated knowledge onwards, learning more and recording more, until we developed computers to store this knowledge, and developing the caretaker of our people, Armored Mother."
The image changed to the Proceptors first in an apothecary, writing in books, and then changing to a university library with a printing press, then to a computer center, then to modern Proceptors bent down in veneration, with tears falling from their eyes but with expressions of happy beatitude, to a huge holographic image of a female that was extending her hands over them in blessing.
"The Flame allowed us to face the darkness without fear, and face the horrors that long ago the forgotten Creators had made and send them away beneath the ground;"
The image showed armored knights - the first Protectors - with torches and swords facing indefinite and inhuman shadow-like shapes, then the warriors were then using flintlocks and halberds, then modern rifles and war machines, and then marching with full uniforms, with smiles of pride, lauded by the people.
"The Hammer allowed us to build our City, our farms, our homes, and many other things of beauty and utility, so that we can make life worthwhile and good"
The image changed to a blacksmith in a humble forge - the original Proletarian - and then many others, building, farming, crafting, forging and constructing, until a mighty bastion was seen at the corner, while a Proletarian, with a smile of joy, look upon this wonder in the distance.
"But the final Tool came to allow us to withstand the underground - Panacea, the nanomachine all-healing medicine that not only would allow to heal without scars, but also fortify our bodies beyond anything imagined"
The it showed a female injecting a vial upon a couple of newborn Jàrnálfar, then the babies reaching puberty, eating an impossible amount of food for someone of his age, and commiting themselves to exercises that would be impossible to be achieved by a mere human, until showed them - a male and a female, now adults - with bodies akin to olympic gods.
"And now, after thousands of years of hidding in the darkness, it is time to return to the World Above, to walk once again beneath the sun, and to shout a cry against Fate"
The Proceptor then turned off the hologram, and then said:
"Come, children. Time to challenge Fate."
The Proceptos and the Infants leave the room, followed by other groups of children accompanied by their Proceptors, leaving the crèche grounds and walking the streets of a city that was not only monolithic in size, but also in shape and form, with each building looking like it was sculpted from the rock itself in place of being built. Accompaning the children, there where others, from the three castes walking towards the outside of the walls of their capital, Metallica.
The energy in the air was electrifying, with a happy tension in the enviroment. People were talking animatedly about the great event of, after thousands of years, leaving underground.
They all then received a message in their NanoCom Systems to don ther dark glasses, and as one, they lowered their dark tinted googles upon their eyes.
It was then that the population came towards a show stage, where the famous Metal group Rammstein where preparing themselves to play for them, the people screaming in joy and recognition.
But behind them there was an immense wall, where Proletarian miners where positioned, hammers and pickaxes in their hands.
It was so that silence fell upon all, lights where turned off, with darkness covering everything.
Then the song begun...
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ya9Jsh5aV0I)
It was a song of excitment, a song of joy, a song of freedom...
A song of Wrath.
And when the weight of the song came, the Proletaran workers begun to hammer and dig the wall following the rhythm of the song.
And the singer, a tank of a male, in a gutural voice, begun to sing
Translation of Novalingua
"Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben, acht, neun, aus
(One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Out)
Alle warten auf das Licht
Fürchtet euch, fürchtet euch nicht
Die Sonne scheint mir aus den Augen
Sie wird heut Nacht nicht untergeh'n
Und die Welt zählt laut bis zehn
(All are waiting for the light
Fear it, don't be afraid
The sun's light is shining from my eyes
It will not set tonight
While the world counts loudly to ten)
Eins - hier kommt die Sonne
Zwei - hier kommt die Sonne
Drei - sie ist der hellste Stern von allen
Vier, hier kommt die Sonne
(One - Here comes the Sun
Two - Here comes the Sun
Three - It is the brightest star of all
Four - Here comes the Sun)
Die Sonne scheint mir aus den Händen
Kann verbrennen, kann euch blenden
Wenn sie aus den Fäusten bricht
Legt sich heiß auf das Gesicht
Sie wird heut Nacht nicht untergeh'n
Und die Welt zählt laut bis zehn
(The Sun is shining in my hands
It can burn, it can blind you
When it breaks out of your hold
It will scour down on your face
It will not set tonight
And the world loudly counts to ten)
Eins, hier kommt die Sonne
Zwei, hier kommt die Sonne
Drei, sie ist der hellste Stern von allen
Vier, hier kommt die Sonne
Fünf, hier kommt die Sonne
Sechs, hier kommt die Sonne
Sieben, sie ist der hellste Stern von allen
Acht, Neun, hier kommt die Sonne
(One - Here comes the Sun
Two - Here comes the Sun
Three - It is the brightest star of all
Four - Here comes the Sun
Five - Here comes the Sun
Six - Here comes the Sun
Seven - It is the brightest star of all
Eight, Nine - Here comes the Sun)
Die Sonne scheint mir aus den Händen
Kann verbrennen, kann dich blenden
Wenn sie aus den Fäusten bricht
Legt sich heiß auf dein Gesicht
Legt sich schmerzend auf die Brust
Das Gleichgewicht wird zum Verlust
Lässt dich hart zu Boden gehen
Und die Welt zählt laut bis zehn
(The Sun is shining in my hands
It can burn, it can blind you
When it breaks out of your hold
It will scour down on your face
It falls painfully on your chest
And all balance is lost
It lets you fall hard on the floor
And all the world loudly counts to ten)
Eins, hier kommt die Sonne
Zwei, hier kommt die Sonne
Drei, sie ist der hellste Stern von allen
Vier, und wird nie vom Himmel fallen
Fünf, hier kommt die Sonne
Sechs, hier kommt die Sonne
Sieben, sie ist der hellste Stern von allen
Acht, Neun, hier kommt die Sonne(x2)
(One - Here comes the Sun
Two - Here comes the Sun
Three - It is the brightest of all stars
Four - and from the Heavens will never fall
Five - Here comes the Sun
Six - Here comes the Sun
Seven - it is the brightest star of all
Eight, Nine - Here comes the Sun) (x2)"
With the last beat, and the choir sung by a female dressed to represent the Prophet, the cave wall finally falls, revealing to the Jàrnálfar the surface for the first time in 3000 years, showing the eastern sky, and the sun rising on the horizon, the Jàrnálfar crying and screaming in joy and wonder.
It was said that, on that day, on distant places, it could be heard a distant bellow of a multitude that was akin to legions of rebels finaly achieving freedom, and now challenging the universe itself to dare put them back in chains.
Autochthonia is now back to a very different world that they left, a world that they barely remember, and now is an alien thing.
And with that, the sun once again rises.
The United Roman Reich, Nerokhori, and Yechia
Map Update March 29, 2020
The United Roman Reich and Nerokhori
After over 4 years as head admin time has finally come to step down. I will be leaving the region to join another with a new setting and premise.
CoG have been good to me thoughout the years and I've found good friends here.
You've all meant a lot to me, both those that are still here and those that are no longer with us.
To those that won't be seeing me again, I wish you all the luck and happiness in the world.
For no matter who we are, no matter how small, how estranged, how rich or how poor, we all deserve to be happy and I wish you all the best.
//Yours truly, RU
Is this region still alive?
Really
Hey! Nice to see you again :D I was surprised too. It's all cloak n' dagger though. Nothing said publicly. People removed or blocked from discord. All very strange.
hello?
Belated greetings!
hewwo
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