The Alliance of DictatorsBoard

[OOC] Resetting all my recent posts up to the last RP with Veradax unit arriving. Will do more post soon, k bye

Troois Sul wrote:

Iron and IndustryOOC
Ahh, I missed the last minute Map requests. When can I ask for a spot again?

OOC: Just message The Greater Antipodes with your claim. I would suggest you try to be as exact as possible, though.

Sanctuary Point wrote:

Black chuckled. “Well believe it or not, New Everfree is not loaded with books on magic. We’re not a fancy regiment like those ones from Wittenland. Our tactics use mechanised forces with artillery support.” Distantly they could hear the basilisk fire again as the Major smiled. “Like that.” He looked to the bishop as Humble glanced out a window at the new group of refugees and his priests as they attended to them. “Thank you for your time, Bishop. The service is still on for next Sunday?” Maple asked as he got Pearlescent and Shield on their hooves again.

"Then I guess I'll be learning to fight the old fashined way," Pearlescent said with more determination in her voice. It was unclear whether she was serious or just desperately wanted to feel useful. "Father and his cronies will never rest until they find me. While I feel safe here, I still want to be prepared for them. Major, would you or somepony else... um... teach me how to shoot a gun? I-I don't mean to offend or make demands of you or anything but... I think I would feel safer if I had more ways to defend myself than just my magic."

As they left the church, Shield Wall turned back to look at the building.

"I would like to learn how to use modern weapons as well. I'm only trained in close combat, after all," he said. "But I'm also interested in hearing more about your faith. Is everypony here allowed to attend the services at any time when they are not on duty?"

Sanctuary Point wrote:

“No, there’s nothing else. May the Sisters guide your path, Imperatrix.” Rising told Twilight as the Equestrians started to leave. Members of the Trottingham regiment escorted the Imperatrix and her companions back to the front gate, watching them board their chariot and take off. Inquisitor Heartstrings also watched them leave from her office, focusing on Duke Silver and… did he just look at her? Lyra’s breath caught in her throat. Her window was only one-way, the other side disguised as just blank stone but she could’ve sworn the Duke had locked eyes with her. “Must be a trick of the light.” She murmured to herself as she went to reread his daughter’s transcripts.

"So... How did we do? Do you think the Abbess bought it?" Twilight asked when the chariot had left the embassy airspace behind.

"I'm not entirely sure, Your Immortal Ladyship," Professor Rainy Gloom admitted. "The Abbess was surprisingly hard to read. But she is a mere Mud Pony. Mud Ponies tend to be dumb and trusting creatures. I think she believed us, but if we want to err on the safe side, we should keep assuming that she remains at the very least... suspicious."

"I don't think they are ready to hoof Pearlescent and Shield Wall back to me just yet," Duke Silver said, turning back from the receding embassy. "But I may have identified a weakness among their staff. Somepony who might turn out to be very useful indeed..."

Grossschwaben wrote:

Seele attentively listened to what Jack had to tell him, wrinkles forming on his forehead as he did. He had initially thought that this was perhaps just a figment of his puparisan flock's imagination, a devil born from their zeal. Yet it appeared now that there was perhaps more to it than he thought. He rubbed his chin, deep in thought and asked Jack:

"These marks of devilry...could you describe them for me, my son? And she is treating you normally, yes son?

Let me be frank, I did not come here to pay you merely a polite visit. As the sheperd of my flock I must always care for all of you and I noticed your absence during the sermon and inquired about it. I know about the excorcism. And it seems there is truth to what I was told, your wife being in dire need of my presence.

So then, let us break down this door and cast down the shadow that inhabits your wife. Let god's righteous sorrow for his children, including your wife flow through your veins and strengthen your grip. Let the Lord's righteous fury steel your nerves and will for we shall show this vile creature, trying to destroy your holy union, the wrath of the Lord!"

"I did not store such things in my mind. Anything created by satan's forces I am quick to forget, for if I let it linger in my mind I may be left open for possession. I wrapped them up as quick I could manage, so I don't recall their form even vaguely. For your other question, she is treating me normally -- or at least mostly. She doesn't like me leaving the house, especially for things related to church. And, she can get rather mad when I cover up the marks marring her form."

After Seele's most recent words he replied with, "Amen. Thank you father for your imminent aid. Time to cast away the force of devilry within her!" Jack then twisted the door knob and pulled it open, revealing the rather quaint bedroom within. A bed facing the door with Anne half-sitting on the frame. Except something wrong and terrible happened. A flash, a resounding boom of a cartridge's internal explosion and bullet ripping through the air. Jack fell over like a brick, swinging the door even further open as it was in the path of his fall and he tried to brace himself against it. He writhed there, grasping at the carpet with a few last shaky breathes intermixed with him spitting blood until he expired.

Anne had in her hands an old revolver Jack had stored for security in case of a home invasion. She had knowledge of its location and had been instructed to use it in emergencies. Yet, she didn't know quite how to use a gun aside from pointing it at the general direction of something and pulling the trigger. Jack's spouse had a loose grip, made even worse by the sweat that covered her hands. When she fired she shrieked to the noise and adrenaline. The barrel flicked up and her hands fumbled with the grip until in her panic she pushed the pistol onto the ground where it bounced once until sitting still. Her mind was racing, she wanted to escape the room now where she felt trapped when the initial shock of firing a gun for the first time left her. Darting out of the room she stumbled over her husband's half-dead form and into the kitchen. She attained a knife from a rack and proceeded to kneel behind a the dining table -- the table cloth partially concealing her.

As part of the government's "Stronger Futures" program and to fully bring about the beginning of the Council of Mutual Cooperation and Development, a Canberra economic conference will be held from the 10-13th of August in which the following states -- both near and far -- have been invited for membership:

Despoticania
Vespergale
Westbeech
Nightstrum
Umbraen
Saeloun hanguk
Spiritual Republic of Caryton
Lenspheria
Peoples republic of the german states
Island Zero
Grossschwaben

Veradax wrote:

OOC: I feel excluded ;-;

OOC: So is Artarum, but that makes IC sense.

The greater antipodes wrote:

As part of the government's "Stronger Futures" program and to fully bring about the beginning of the Council of Mutual Cooperation and Development, a Canberra economic conference will be held from the 10-13th of August in which the following states -- both near and far -- have been invited for membership:

The Spiritual Republic of Caryton humbly accepts this membership, duly noting its attendance and enthusiasm to cooperate with the foreign world.

Puparisus wrote:

"I did not store such things in my mind. Anything created by satan's forces I am quick to forget, for if I let it linger in my mind I may be left open for possession. I wrapped them up as quick I could manage, so I don't recall their form even vaguely. For your other question, she is treating me normally -- or at least mostly. She doesn't like me leaving the house, especially for things related to church. And, she can get rather mad when I cover up the marks marring her form."

After Seele's most recent words he replied with, "Amen. Thank you father for your imminent aid. Time to cast away the force of devilry within her!" Jack then twisted the door knob and pulled it open, revealing the rather quaint bedroom within. A bed facing the door with Anne half-sitting on the frame. Except something wrong and terrible happened. A flash, a resounding boom of a cartridge's internal explosion and bullet ripping through the air. Jack fell over like a brick, swinging the door even further open as it was in the path of his fall and he tried to brace himself against it. He writhed there, grasping at the carpet with a few last shaky breathes intermixed with him spitting blood until he expired.

Anne had in her hands an old revolver Jack had stored for security in case of a home invasion. She had knowledge of its location and had been instructed to use it in emergencies. Yet, she didn't know quite how to use a gun aside from pointing it at the general direction of something and pulling the trigger. Jack's spouse had a loose grip, made even worse by the sweat that covered her hands. When she fired she shrieked to the noise and adrenaline. The barrel flicked up and her hands fumbled with the grip until in her panic she pushed the pistol onto the ground where it bounced once until sitting still. Her mind was racing, she wanted to escape the room now where she felt trapped when the initial shock of firing a gun for the first time left her. Darting out of the room she stumbled over her husband's half-dead form and into the kitchen. She attained a knife from a rack and proceeded to kneel behind a the dining table -- the table cloth partially concealing her.

Seele was old. It was a fact the lord showed him day after day through the aching in his bones and the corpse-like face that greeted him every time he looked into the mirror. It was a fact that lord showed him once more quite clearly as Seele, incapable of following the events, stood frozen and saw himself incapable of barring the way of Anne as she sped past him like a deer, back into the kitchen. Everything had just happened so quickly. One moment good old Jack was opening the door, the next he collapsed against the door, spitting bloody while trying to draw in air. Seele's ears were still ringing slightly from the loud gunshot he had only just heard. He didn't hear Anne's shriek nor the dull thud of the gun hitting the floorboards, his old ears still trying to recalibrate themselves to normal levels of environmental sounds rather than guns being fired right nex to him.

Alas, his body's inability to act quickly also gave the gears in Seele's mind the time to start churning, slowly and methodically. He looked after Anne, the way she had taken but decided not to follow her. She seemed to have been afraid of the outside and with him here now, she likely assumed that he was not alone. He reasoned that only if he was to pursue now, would she become desperate enough to try her luck, escaping to the outside. So she would likely not become a threat to him or anyone else too soon.

With some effort, Seele knelt down next to the dying Jack, internally almost cursing the gout in his old bones but refraining from doing so. He placed one of his thin, skeletal hands on Jack's shoulder, gripping him firmly and giving the dying man a certain sense of someone being there, someone being with him in these last moments.

"Go now, son. Let the lord guide your soul to where it belongs. I will ensure, that your wife's soul shall follow you, free of the taint of Satan."

Once Jack had truly passed away, the Pastor let go off his shoulder and would, if he hadn't already done so on his own, close Jack's eyes. He then looked around, seeing the still smoking gun lying not far from him. Anne had clearly dropped it and Seele wondered if he should take the weapon with him. He decided against it though, knowing that just like Anne, he too had never been taught how to handle a gun and would thus fare equally badly. Besides, if Anne was truly beset by some foul spirit, then the gun would be of no use anyway for these mortal weapons could do little against the likes of the undead or the demonic. No, against these foul creatures there was only one weapon he could use and that would be his faith in the lord in heaven.

Using his cane as support, Seele slowly and with creaking bones managed to get back onto his feet. He left Jack with one final glance before making his after Anne. He didn't know where exactöy Anne had run off to...but he would find her soon enough, of that he was sure. Even if his eyesight was not the best and his hearing poor, he was confident that his mere, holy presence would spook the demon out of their hiding place when he were to come near.

Once he had made his way back to the front, the front door flew open, Alfred standing right behind it, having clearly kicked it open just now. Worry was written across the young man's face as he saw the pastor and he asked:

"Father Seele! Are you alright? I heard a shot!"

Seele waved his hand up and down in a calming gesture, telling the young man:

"Ah, good Alfred, your worry for your fellow man will surely lend you a place in heaven in the future. But ach, not all is good for the demon that has taken hold of Anne has slain Jack. Please, be so good, go after Thomas and ask him to inform the police that a man has just died here."

Alfred didn't seem too happy with that though, immediately speaking up:

"But father, the demon could-"

Yet Seele shut him up with a raised hand, asking:

"Do you think so little of the lord, Alfred? Do you not believe that the power of the lord alone will be enough for a man of the lord such as myself to overcome the evil spirit that has taken Anne? Do you not believe in the lord's grand plan? Even if I am to meet my end here, it would be a worthy end serving the lord, our creator and perhaps the lord's way of giving me the rest I have desired for so long now. So hush, go now and bring the authorities so they may deal with this situation."

Alfred seemed to want to say more but the peaceful yet unmoving look in Seele's face convinced him not to push the issue any further. The old pastor was not going to budge from his position and any second he tarried here could be another second that there would be no mass of armed men ready to assist in ending this murderess' life. With a final nod and a:

"May the lord watch over you, father."

, Alfred turned around and left Seele alone in the house with Anne.

The pastor sighed before closing the door again. It was cold outside and his old bones didn't like the cold at all anymore. His bones creaked a little as he slowly shuffled into the living room, his cane clicking against the ground and marking his slow but steady advance towards the kitchen. When Seele reached the kitchen, he stopped in the doorway, letting his dimmed eyes wander. The cataract affecting his eyes now clearly worked in his disfavour as he did not see Anne hiding behind the dining table and thought her to have perhaps tried to hide somewhere else. He slowly shuffled into the kitchen and past the dining table, wondering wether there was another way out of the kitchen.

The greater antipodes wrote:

As part of the government's "Stronger Futures" program and to fully bring about the beginning of the Council of Mutual Cooperation and Development, a Canberra economic conference will be held from the 10-13th of August in which the following states -- both near and far -- have been invited for membership:

The Grand Duchy of Großschwaben's Ministry of Foreign Relations informs the People's Social Republic of Antipodea that it will send the Lord Diplomat Count Herbert Alois Peter zu Goisbach to attend the economic conference as an observer. Both his majesty, the Grand Duke, as well as the Ministry of Economy and Energy have shown great interest in the prospect of furthered economic ties with the rest of the world but the hosting party's political orientation has been found...troublesome...by multiple members of the government which is why his majesty, the Grand Duke, cannot approve of full swabian particiption in such an initiative without prior observation of its workings, its benefits and its drawbacks.

Rumlew Harbour District, Artarumen Empire
02:10, 4th of August 2020

Rain poured onto the vast city of Rumlew as the cool summer wind blew over the skyscrapers that marked Rumlew's skyline. The magnificent city was a testament to the development of Artarumen cultural and social life: the boring stuff was in Liudan, the capital, and everything fun was in Rumlew. Nightclubs and bars were open until the morning, with most of them working twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Theatres and cinemas were stuffed with people, and opera houses were always sold out. The economic, cultural, and social heart of the entire Artarumen Empire beat strong, as ever. Of course, there were darker sides to this metropolis, as well.

A pair of men, clad in what seemed like military fatigues but certainly weren't Imperial Armed Forces uniforms, patrolled around a gate near the harbour. To protect from the downpour, they had baggy black raincoats over themselves, with the water making the black finish of their long-barreled rifles gleam in the spotlights. A series of lorries, three of them, rolled up to a checkpoint, and after a brief conversation with the guards, the barrier lifted and the lorries passed. They stopped at the pier, and the drivers - gruffy, overweight men, two of whom were smoking cigarettes - got off. Thankfully, they were under a tarp, which meant that the rain would not infringe on their smoking.

Another armed man approached them, looking over the lorries. He spoke with a thick Boer accent. "Are these the goods?"

"What else would they be?"

The armed man grunted. Smugglers and criminals weren't the nicest and politest people one could affiliate with. Other armed men open up the lorries, the ramps sliding out. Within, it's an armoury. Long-barreled rifles, submachine guns, grenades, combat knives, boxes upon boxes of ammunition - enough to outfit a small armed group to the teeth. The armed men walk into the lorries' containers, presumably to inspect the shipment in detail. The non-smoking driver, seemingly the chief, gestures at the port.

"How in hell do you expect to get these out of here?"

The armed man talking with the drivers looked at him. In his thick Boer accent, he replied - "None of your goddamn business, brak." While the driver did not know what "brak" meant, he picked up on the word's origin, and coupled with the man's thick accent, he didn't need to be a particularly bright person to know who they were dealing with.

"Boers, eh? Judging by the whole secrecy thing you blokes have got over here, you're up to no good. Do the blokes at the MoD know about this crap?"

The armed man tapped the side of his rifle impatiently. The driver was asking too many questions for a driver. He did not reply, prompting the driver to speak more. "Bleeding Boers, trying to stir crap up as always. Why don't you lot just go back to whatever hell you decided to crawl out of, eh?"

Some Boers had decided to stay in Bergsehuis after apartheid had collapsed. This particular group had different intentions. The armed man shrugged. "We're just fine right here, you dikgat Artarumen," he barked, casually adding in some of his own language, "and we're citizens of the Empire, aren't we? You've done your job, now shut your mouth and wait for us to finish inspections."

The driver snorted, but he wasn't going to argue further with an armed person who was clearly not acting in legal limits. Even if he were legal, arguing too much with military men in Artarum was unwise overall. He just leaned against a metal girder holding the tarp up and looked at the other two drivers, who had lit another set of cigarettes, and they shrugged at him. The men in the lorries came out, waving to the one that had spoken to the leading driver.

"Alright." The armed man gestured at the drivers, "unload the containers, then be off with you." The drivers tossed their cigarettes on the wet concrete ground, not bothering to stamp out the butts, and walked to their lorries to detach the containers.

The sound of a helicopter began to approach. The armed men looked at one another, and it quickly became evident that the helicopter was not simply passing by. Before they could do much, things went from bad to worse. Tall albeit crouching figures with ballistic shields and small personal defence weapons, flanked by other figures who instead held long-barreled rifles, crept out between the spaces between the forest of containers, and a megaphone cracked to life.

"Unidentified armed militia, you are surrounded! Immediately place your weapons down and you will not be fired upon! Heavy support is available for the ground forces and you have no realistic chance of making it out of a firefight. "

The armed men had been caught disorganised. Had they been in position, they could perhaps have offered some meaningful resistance, but as they stood, they were fragmented and divided. Looking at one another, they slowly lifted their rifles above their heads and slowly crouched down, placing the rifles on the floor, then stood up as slowly as they had crouched down. The special police teams moved in, methodically bagging the rifles and rather harshly pushing the unarmed men on the floor, one officer stamping on their backs as another handcuffed the perp.

"Get out of the lorry! Get out! Get the hell out!"

The police officer yelled at the drivers, who were positively terrorised by the police operations force. They weren't militia - they were simply hired drivers. Upon getting out, they too were thrown to the ground and handcuffed. After twenty minutes, with all the present militiamen arrested and escorted to armoured vans, it's only the lorries and their cargo left. Several officers continued to inspect the area.

"Holy hell, there's a lot of weapons in here. This wasn't just some random group of weapons smugglers. I think this needs to go higher up."

His friend nodded behind his balaclava and ballistic helmet. "Yeah. Yeah, no, this is big. Think the MoD will get to it?"

"I'd be surprised if the bloody Prime Minister didn't get to it. This place seems to have been used a lot, look at all those marks and scratches on the concrete," he pointed out, "Christ. God knows how many shipments they got off before we got the intel."

Turning around, he called out to the area, taking advantage of the fact that the rain seemed to have slowed. "Alright, you slow-moving lot, get this wrapped up! We still need to debrief and prepare the paperwork for all this crap, come on, come on!" This being a police operation, regardless of its scale, it still necessitated a virtual mountain of paperwork for the sergeant and lieutenant, who dreaded the work.

"Come on, let's go. Drinks are on me once we wrap the paperwork up tomorrow night, I call this a successful operation. Not a single shot fired, perps under custody, and we bagged three lorries filled to the brim with guns and ammo. Just wonderful."

Imperial explander wrote:

Ooc:Hi guys. Mind if I ask, this is a rp board? Do we have a discord? And I found this region through the post modern tech tag, so I assume a sci fi nation with 6 regions(each with about 100 star systems) allowed?

OOC: Um, giant stellar empires don’t work too well here, though sci fi stuff is generally allowed.

Island Zero wrote:

OOC: Welcome to the region.
From what I can tell your nation is a large space empire. As Veradax has stated these haven't worked well with the region in the past. Although some more advanced nations have relatively small space fleets. By the region's definition, PMT (Post Modern Tech) includes technology that's about 5-20 years into the future, while FT (Future Tech) is anything after that; your nation seems to be FT.

There is a Discord, you may want to join it for further information.

Ooc:Of course, please do send me the link