SouthernKing
crickety cricket
I'll take India.
DarthNES II - Superpowers Redux
- Thread starter DarthNader
- Start date
DarthNader
Destroyer of Worlds
@talonschild - Confirmed as Argentina...and the reason why the UK isn't a superpower is because it would ruin the dynamic in Europe.
@Nirosi - You could potentially change the government form, but there is really no reason to do so. You can set it to damn near anything at the beginning of the game, but changing it in-game may cause some sort of internal backlash. Also, Indonesia confirmed.
@ SouthernKing - Confirmed as India.
@Nirosi - You could potentially change the government form, but there is really no reason to do so. You can set it to damn near anything at the beginning of the game, but changing it in-game may cause some sort of internal backlash. Also, Indonesia confirmed.
@ SouthernKing - Confirmed as India.
Nirosi
Hymenopus Coronatus
Is it a mistake or do Indonesia actually own 3 air units at the start?
___________________________________________________________________________________
2017 a civil war broke out in Indonesia, it was divided in the west - Sunda Islands
and the east - Sulawesi, Timor, Irian Jaya
in the first months the west dominated, the Molluks were token , then in 2018 the eastern states counterattacked Java and forced the western part to peace and division of the country.
17th September 2027, ten years after the division the government of West Indonesia was overthrown and a Absolutic Monarchy was estabilished, Pemersatu Rajasa, King of the Archipelage, took the power in his hands.First of November he declared war on the East Indonesian States.
2033 East Indonesia capitulated, it was completly annexed by the Kingdom of the Seas.
___________________________________________________________________________________
2017 a civil war broke out in Indonesia, it was divided in the west - Sunda Islands
and the east - Sulawesi, Timor, Irian Jaya
in the first months the west dominated, the Molluks were token , then in 2018 the eastern states counterattacked Java and forced the western part to peace and division of the country.
17th September 2027, ten years after the division the government of West Indonesia was overthrown and a Absolutic Monarchy was estabilished, Pemersatu Rajasa, King of the Archipelage, took the power in his hands.First of November he declared war on the East Indonesian States.
2033 East Indonesia capitulated, it was completly annexed by the Kingdom of the Seas.
Nirosi
Hymenopus Coronatus
Should we post ideas in the tread or send them directly to you?
DarthNader
Destroyer of Worlds
That would be a typo. I'll get to fixing that.
Everyone will be creating their militaries/filling in their stats for Update 0. I'll talk more about it once we get more players.
Whatever you are comfortable with. If you want to keep it on the down-low, feel free to shoot me a PM or two.
talonschild
Drive-By NESer
Yeah, I've found that NESes operate on the "If you build it, they will come" principle.
DarthNader
Destroyer of Worlds
All you all are doing for Update 0 is spending a certain percentage of your income on military units, then placing them on the map. Additionally, you would have the chance to change your nation's name, name your leader, and whatnot. That's all that's really going to happen.
talonschild
Drive-By NESer
Any particular fraction? If not, the Argentine Republic spends 4c on 4 Infantry Divisions, all placed in I Army, and I Air Corps is getting 1 Strike Fighter Wing, for 5c.
I Air Corps is based out of the Air Force base adjoining Ministro Pistarini International Airport. I Army is located just west of Buenos Aires.
The Argentine Republic is led by the great Premier Armando Diaz. Two stories are being written.
I Air Corps is based out of the Air Force base adjoining Ministro Pistarini International Airport. I Army is located just west of Buenos Aires.
The Argentine Republic is led by the great Premier Armando Diaz. Two stories are being written.
DarthNader
Destroyer of Worlds
It will be more than your present income. Don't worry about it for now. I'm still trying to figure out a good number.
christos200
Never tell me the odds
Can I join as the United Islamic Republic?
DarthNader
Destroyer of Worlds
Most certainly.
Lord of Elves
Suede-Denim Secret Police
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2009
- Messages
- 6,976
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo... (and so on)
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
Darth Nader. The second one is already better and more hilarious than the first. Keep up the good work!
Lord of Elves
Suede-Denim Secret Police
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2009
- Messages
- 6,976
Talks with Our Father: Why Slavery?
"Now, many of you may wonder why we Afrikaans use slavery. You call it a vile and barbaric practice. But to this I saw balderdash! You are the barbarians for discarding this noble institution of human progress and civilization.
Now, the main argument against slavery is that its unfair that a man profit from another man's work. And that is true. However, we forget that these jungle savages are not men! They are animals, and therefore, not only is it permissible for use to use them, it is encouraged by the Good Lord himself! For in the Book of Genesis, God said to Adam that all the animals of this world are here to serve him. And one of these animals is the African, and as good, God Fearing Christians, we will honor the Good Book! Do you tell a farmer to stop milking his cows? Do you tell a rancher to stop riding his horses? Our Africans, when properly tamed, are proud beasts, like horses, and like horses, they need a strong master to ride them towards their destiny and their fulfillment.
We had foolishly tried simply separating the races, to let the African learn on his own how to be a good productive member of society. And did he? Did the African become a law abiding man? No! He could not, because he is not a man! The African becomes a delinquent, a criminal, a basic and carnal creature that throws themselves to their pleasures on white women and children. What God fearing man could allow these animals to run amok, free and untamed? None I say!
I am proud to be an Afrikaan, and I am proud to lead this union of ours to new heights of prosperity. We shall bring our progress, our civilization, to the rest of Africa, and with the aid of the Good Lord, we may do our best to make Christians out of them!
Onderwerp!"
Spoiler :
SouthernKing
crickety cricket
I'm watching you.
talonschild
Drive-By NESer
Casa Rosada, Buenos Aires, Argentina; Friday, January 12, 2035, 11:00am
A summons to the Premier's office was never a good thing. Hector de Alvarez had been in fairly good spirits when he arrived in the morning, but the little pulsing notification on his desktop instantly killed that. He much preferred videochatting, if only because then Diaz couldn't reach over and strangle him. Not that he'd ever tried, but... Diaz struck him as the sort of man who would.
De Alvarez walked uneasily down the poorly lit corridor to the Premier's wing. He mused idly why Diaz had never gotten around to having the lights fixed. He'd probably ordered the lights to be busted up a bit, Alvarez guessed. Diaz was a man for setting the mood, specifically fear. Diaz's head secretary, Erica, gave him a sympathetic smile as he approached, and waved him in.
Diaz was waiting there, as was General Oscar Mendez of the War Ministry. Alvarez nodded curtly to each of them and sat down stiffly, face utterly impassive. He refused to let Diaz terrify him. The three men sat in silence for several minutes.
The door opened once more and in strolled Carlos Correa, head of the Departamento de Inteligencia Secreto. He sat down, grinning broadly, and wished everyone a very exuberant "Good day!" There, reflected Alvarez enviously, was one whom Diaz truly couldn't intimidate.
Diaz, however, had other ideas. "A pleasure, as always, Mr Correa. How is this year's counterintelligence sweep coming?"
"Excellently. We've located forty-seven enemy agents, all of whom are presently in various states of decomposition. Only two, I am pleased to note, were anywhere near classified information."
"Two?" Diaz asked dangerously.
"I would remind you that last year there were fifteen, and that both this year were newly inserted."
"Remind me, would you?" Diaz carried on quietly. He then raised his voice and clapped his hands. "Good! Well done. General, how has the army's intelligence fared in its search for foreign agents?"
This was new. Correa's brow furrowed briefly. Mendez straightened. "The SIE has located seventy-three infiltrators that DIS somehow" - he smirked - "failed to identify. One of them is working in this building."
"Ah," said Diaz. He pressed a button on the side of his desk. The sound of soldiers filtered in from the hallway outside, and Erica could be heard screaming as she was dragged away. Correa became visibly pale. "Cigarette?" Diaz offered. De Alvarez was the only one to accept. He lit his and Diaz's, and internally took great delight in exhaling a large puff of smoke in Correa's face. Correa coughed.
"And Mr de Alvarez, what does the diplomatic situation look like?"
De Alvarez exhaled again. "Uruguay has rejected our request for a security zone around Buenos Aires again. They didn't seem to like that it reached past Montevideo. Chile remains as stubbornly antagonistic as ever. Paraguay, Bolivia, and Peru are all essentially trying to play us off against Brazil. The English base in the Malvinas is no longer answering my calls. We got a very nice case of wine from Morocco, though."
Diaz laughed aloud. "Wine! Wine! Is it such a slow day that you tell me about wine?" He became deadly serious. "The Uruguayan problem vexes me. See that it is fixed."
De Alvarez stood up, nodded to everyone, and left. Halfway down the corridor he was overtaken by Correa, headed off to find the place where Erica was executed.
In his office, de Alvarez opened his word processor. The words flowed, one golden sentence after the other. A scathing reply, addressed directly to the President of Uruguay, skipping over their Foreign Minister. A calculated insult. This, he thought, this ought to do the trick.
Out the window, Correa could be seen in the distance, searching through his erstwhile agent's clothes.
A summons to the Premier's office was never a good thing. Hector de Alvarez had been in fairly good spirits when he arrived in the morning, but the little pulsing notification on his desktop instantly killed that. He much preferred videochatting, if only because then Diaz couldn't reach over and strangle him. Not that he'd ever tried, but... Diaz struck him as the sort of man who would.
De Alvarez walked uneasily down the poorly lit corridor to the Premier's wing. He mused idly why Diaz had never gotten around to having the lights fixed. He'd probably ordered the lights to be busted up a bit, Alvarez guessed. Diaz was a man for setting the mood, specifically fear. Diaz's head secretary, Erica, gave him a sympathetic smile as he approached, and waved him in.
Diaz was waiting there, as was General Oscar Mendez of the War Ministry. Alvarez nodded curtly to each of them and sat down stiffly, face utterly impassive. He refused to let Diaz terrify him. The three men sat in silence for several minutes.
The door opened once more and in strolled Carlos Correa, head of the Departamento de Inteligencia Secreto. He sat down, grinning broadly, and wished everyone a very exuberant "Good day!" There, reflected Alvarez enviously, was one whom Diaz truly couldn't intimidate.
Diaz, however, had other ideas. "A pleasure, as always, Mr Correa. How is this year's counterintelligence sweep coming?"
"Excellently. We've located forty-seven enemy agents, all of whom are presently in various states of decomposition. Only two, I am pleased to note, were anywhere near classified information."
"Two?" Diaz asked dangerously.
"I would remind you that last year there were fifteen, and that both this year were newly inserted."
"Remind me, would you?" Diaz carried on quietly. He then raised his voice and clapped his hands. "Good! Well done. General, how has the army's intelligence fared in its search for foreign agents?"
This was new. Correa's brow furrowed briefly. Mendez straightened. "The SIE has located seventy-three infiltrators that DIS somehow" - he smirked - "failed to identify. One of them is working in this building."
"Ah," said Diaz. He pressed a button on the side of his desk. The sound of soldiers filtered in from the hallway outside, and Erica could be heard screaming as she was dragged away. Correa became visibly pale. "Cigarette?" Diaz offered. De Alvarez was the only one to accept. He lit his and Diaz's, and internally took great delight in exhaling a large puff of smoke in Correa's face. Correa coughed.
"And Mr de Alvarez, what does the diplomatic situation look like?"
De Alvarez exhaled again. "Uruguay has rejected our request for a security zone around Buenos Aires again. They didn't seem to like that it reached past Montevideo. Chile remains as stubbornly antagonistic as ever. Paraguay, Bolivia, and Peru are all essentially trying to play us off against Brazil. The English base in the Malvinas is no longer answering my calls. We got a very nice case of wine from Morocco, though."
Diaz laughed aloud. "Wine! Wine! Is it such a slow day that you tell me about wine?" He became deadly serious. "The Uruguayan problem vexes me. See that it is fixed."
De Alvarez stood up, nodded to everyone, and left. Halfway down the corridor he was overtaken by Correa, headed off to find the place where Erica was executed.
In his office, de Alvarez opened his word processor. The words flowed, one golden sentence after the other. A scathing reply, addressed directly to the President of Uruguay, skipping over their Foreign Minister. A calculated insult. This, he thought, this ought to do the trick.
Out the window, Correa could be seen in the distance, searching through his erstwhile agent's clothes.
talonschild
Drive-By NESer
Baraki Cafe, Buenos Aires, Argentina; Friday, January 12, 2035, 5:30pm
"Your boss was a DIS spy?"
"Uh huh. And she got herself dragged out and shot for it. Now we're all under suspicion. Cristian, myself, everyone in that department." Enrique glanced over at where the others were chatting. "I'm freaking scared, man."
Jorge nodded in sympathy. "But... you're not guilty of anything, right?"
"Not funny, man."
"Sorry. Just checking."
The two of them made their way back to the table. Cristian, Rodrigo, and Pauwel had gotten into an argument over who was most likely to successfully hitchhike with various demographic groups. Baby-faced Rodrigo, it was universally assumed, would do well with elderly of both genders. Cristian's popularity with those of the female persuasion gave him an edge with fully half of those left. Right now the debate was on what qualities were most likely to lead to a successful hitchhike with families with children.
"You know what?" said Cristian, "It doesn't matter. I've got a good enough chance with enough people that I'd be halfway across the country before even one family stopped for any of you."
"Sounds like a bet," said Pauwel with a smile.
"Hell yeah. You know Matteo's in Santa Fe?"
"Sure, yeah."
"Bet you I'll get there first. No driving, or taxis."
"You're on. Everyone pays for drinks bought before they arrive?"
"Done. Starting when?"
There was a pause. Then everyone bolted for the door.
***
YPF Gas Station, Zarate, Argentina; Friday, January 12, 2035, 11:30pm
"Again?" Jorge asked as the others trooped disconsolately back inside.
"Yeah, trucker takes one look at us all badgering him and drives off."
"Hm." Jorge stuffed the remaining half of his sandwich back in his backpack and moved toward the door.
"Hey, where are you going?"
Jorge grinned, and walked out.
***
A highway outside Rosario, Argentina; Saturday, January 13, 2035, 7:00am
As the gentlemen was not going any further than Rosario, Jorge was once again left to his own devices. With 170 kilometres to go, he was still as stuck as the others. He hoped they were still in Zarate.
At 1 that afternoon, a convoy of trucks came up from the south. With a pang of dismay Jorge saw Enrique in the passenger seat of the lead truck, and Pauwel a few trucks back. Both waved at him cheerily.
He was waiting for another trucker to pull into the Enarsa gas station when Rodrigo limped up.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Cristian and I caught a ride with a pair of truckers. They were headed to San Miguel, so we figured we'd get off as they passed through Santa Fe. Figures that my driver is the one to get in a really nasty accident."
"So that makes us the last two, huh?"
"Guess so."
"Want to grab a bite to eat?"
"Oh, hell yes. McDonald's?"
"Sure."
They split up after breakfast. Rodrigo headed west, Jorge east. Amazingly, after a full day of searching, neither of them found a ride (and both were beginning to dread the tab they'd be responsible for). Jorge was just setting up his tent when Rodrigo whooshed by on the back of a motorcycle. Jorge groaned, and mumbled, "Great. I suck at this."
And then he had an idea.
***
Casa Rosada, Buenos Aires, Argentina; Monday, January 15, 2035, 8:30am
Jorge was at his desk, whistling merrily. His cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Dude, it's Cristian. Are you okay?"
"Totally fine." Jorge assured them with glee. "Just got to work."
There was an explosion of shouting on the other end of the line. Eventually, order was restored.
"Dude, you are so dead. And you owe us $614.87."
"Your boss was a DIS spy?"
"Uh huh. And she got herself dragged out and shot for it. Now we're all under suspicion. Cristian, myself, everyone in that department." Enrique glanced over at where the others were chatting. "I'm freaking scared, man."
Jorge nodded in sympathy. "But... you're not guilty of anything, right?"
"Not funny, man."
"Sorry. Just checking."
The two of them made their way back to the table. Cristian, Rodrigo, and Pauwel had gotten into an argument over who was most likely to successfully hitchhike with various demographic groups. Baby-faced Rodrigo, it was universally assumed, would do well with elderly of both genders. Cristian's popularity with those of the female persuasion gave him an edge with fully half of those left. Right now the debate was on what qualities were most likely to lead to a successful hitchhike with families with children.
"You know what?" said Cristian, "It doesn't matter. I've got a good enough chance with enough people that I'd be halfway across the country before even one family stopped for any of you."
"Sounds like a bet," said Pauwel with a smile.
"Hell yeah. You know Matteo's in Santa Fe?"
"Sure, yeah."
"Bet you I'll get there first. No driving, or taxis."
"You're on. Everyone pays for drinks bought before they arrive?"
"Done. Starting when?"
There was a pause. Then everyone bolted for the door.
***
YPF Gas Station, Zarate, Argentina; Friday, January 12, 2035, 11:30pm
"Again?" Jorge asked as the others trooped disconsolately back inside.
"Yeah, trucker takes one look at us all badgering him and drives off."
"Hm." Jorge stuffed the remaining half of his sandwich back in his backpack and moved toward the door.
"Hey, where are you going?"
Jorge grinned, and walked out.
***
A highway outside Rosario, Argentina; Saturday, January 13, 2035, 7:00am
As the gentlemen was not going any further than Rosario, Jorge was once again left to his own devices. With 170 kilometres to go, he was still as stuck as the others. He hoped they were still in Zarate.
At 1 that afternoon, a convoy of trucks came up from the south. With a pang of dismay Jorge saw Enrique in the passenger seat of the lead truck, and Pauwel a few trucks back. Both waved at him cheerily.
He was waiting for another trucker to pull into the Enarsa gas station when Rodrigo limped up.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Cristian and I caught a ride with a pair of truckers. They were headed to San Miguel, so we figured we'd get off as they passed through Santa Fe. Figures that my driver is the one to get in a really nasty accident."
"So that makes us the last two, huh?"
"Guess so."
"Want to grab a bite to eat?"
"Oh, hell yes. McDonald's?"
"Sure."
They split up after breakfast. Rodrigo headed west, Jorge east. Amazingly, after a full day of searching, neither of them found a ride (and both were beginning to dread the tab they'd be responsible for). Jorge was just setting up his tent when Rodrigo whooshed by on the back of a motorcycle. Jorge groaned, and mumbled, "Great. I suck at this."
And then he had an idea.
***
Casa Rosada, Buenos Aires, Argentina; Monday, January 15, 2035, 8:30am
Jorge was at his desk, whistling merrily. His cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Dude, it's Cristian. Are you okay?"
"Totally fine." Jorge assured them with glee. "Just got to work."
There was an explosion of shouting on the other end of the line. Eventually, order was restored.
"Dude, you are so dead. And you owe us $614.87."
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