Grecian!
- Thread starter Toasty
- Start date
RallyK
Chieftain
Come on, Toasty! Sure, you should have atleast 1000 views on this thread, but give us (your faithful readers) a break. Most of us have been pre-occupied with Christmas since your last installment.
Just when I think I have the story figured out, you write out a world leader....
Just when I think I have the story figured out, you write out a world leader....
jongon
Chieftain
Your story is great, i really like it write more
das
Regeneration In Process
I am reading the story! Please, continue!
Warlord Sam
2500 hours and counting..
- Joined
- Oct 27, 2001
- Messages
- 379
*Cracks his whip*
Write, slave-boy... Write!
Write, slave-boy... Write!
das
Regeneration In Process
Write! Write! WRITE!!!!!! MUWHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAA! Oh mighty lightning, Strike at this nonwriting Toasty, and turn him into WRITER who will write TWICE with speed of light!!!!! Muwhahhahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahaha! Our sponsors are Evil Nuclear Terrorists - you will have a Nuking time!
AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!
My cable internet provider tried to put everyone on one server (or something like that) and I haven't been able to get on in over a week! I'm using Net Zero, in case you were wondering how I'm typing here ^^
Story's on hold. Sorry everyone--nothing I can do this time.
My cable internet provider tried to put everyone on one server (or something like that) and I haven't been able to get on in over a week! I'm using Net Zero, in case you were wondering how I'm typing here ^^
Story's on hold. Sorry everyone--nothing I can do this time.
Warlord Sam
2500 hours and counting..
- Joined
- Oct 27, 2001
- Messages
- 379
Pfft. You can type a message like that, but you can't type out more of the story!?!?
**Cracks his whip** Write, slave boy! Write!
**Cracks his whip** Write, slave boy! Write!
Moscow, Russia--December 4, 1952--7:30 A.M. local time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Guard jerked Kerensky into Catherine's office. She stood, facing the city street, just as Joan had before her assassination. She had died, but Couplain turned out to be a strong and very vocal anti-communist leader. A Greek 'quiet revolution' was underway, as the whole empire sat on its hands and waited for the Democracy to establish itself.
Kerensky was in a godawful shape. He wore a wrinkled shirt, and crumpled pants; his tie was nowhere to be found. The KGB operatives had him cuffed and chaned as he stood before Catherine.
Catherine soon turned around. She had an unbelievably icy look on her face. She had never been betrayed so deeply, not in her 6000 years of life had she met with such cowardice.
She walked up to Kerensky. A silence remained between them; Kerensky was shorter and skinnier than the brute Catherine, and there was a strong smell of Vodka lingering on Kerensky.
Catherine talked, quietly and slowly. "Capitalist pig. The entire time, right under my nose? You sent out that message so I could interperet it. I never expected such treachery from my senior espionage chief."
Kerensky couldn't stare her in the eyes. If he stood up to her at all, he would die.
"You will not get away with this. I will purge the Politburo of any even slight Greco-French sympathizers. You will live out your life in a Gulag in Germany. Enjoy."
Suddenly, Kerensky wished he had stared Catherine in the eyes.
Athens, Greece--February 3, 1953--12:30 P.M. local time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexander stood up a pen on his desk and wobbled it. The revolution was rather boring; It was more of a change of staff set up than anything (all the old Communist party members had been elected. The Greek people, while bright, were like cattle in politics).
Maximus knocked on the door of Alexander's office. During the Greco-Roman war in the 20's, he had defected to the Greek Communists and led the people of Antium to unite with Greece. He worked his way through the foreign ministry and managed his way up to Ambassador to Paris.
"Alexander, what do you think of this "Quiet Revolution"? Doesn't seem to be accomplishing much, is it?"
Alexander continued to apathetically wobble his pen and stared up at Maximus. Maximus certainly looked Roman; Brown hair, straight complexion, long face, a short-trimmed beard; he was reflective of Ceaser but Ceaser was put on a show trial. Messy ordeal.
"What do you think?"
Maximus let out a low-key laugh. "At any rate, I have some figured from Couplain. Either the French economy is booming or their propaganda ministry is. They've more than tripled their production capacity since Joan's death. As much of a patriot she was, she didn't seem to know squat about running her country."
Alexander remembered Joan's funeral procession through the streets of Paris. Frenchmen, housewives, and Russian refugees lined the main street, sobbing, looking up at the tricolor flags everywhere; The entire French population must have met their to honor their fallen leader.
"Maximus, I would ask that we show our fallen friend a little more respect". There had been a little spark, or something of the like, between him and Joan. Most surely he would have married her had he not been married since 3999 B.C. (the man waited no time in selecting an empress to spend eternity with). He sighed, and continued to wobble his pen.
Maximus abashed. He represented the entire Roman population of Greece; willing, patriotic, but with their own culture nonetheless.
"Well, I'll keep getting Couplain to fork over these figures. Before long, they should be able to match the English--we might be ready for our 'war' soon."
Alexander let his pen fall as Maximus left the room.
Athor's Note: I just felt like writing ^^. I hope I've still got a few fans out there.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Guard jerked Kerensky into Catherine's office. She stood, facing the city street, just as Joan had before her assassination. She had died, but Couplain turned out to be a strong and very vocal anti-communist leader. A Greek 'quiet revolution' was underway, as the whole empire sat on its hands and waited for the Democracy to establish itself.
Kerensky was in a godawful shape. He wore a wrinkled shirt, and crumpled pants; his tie was nowhere to be found. The KGB operatives had him cuffed and chaned as he stood before Catherine.
Catherine soon turned around. She had an unbelievably icy look on her face. She had never been betrayed so deeply, not in her 6000 years of life had she met with such cowardice.
She walked up to Kerensky. A silence remained between them; Kerensky was shorter and skinnier than the brute Catherine, and there was a strong smell of Vodka lingering on Kerensky.
Catherine talked, quietly and slowly. "Capitalist pig. The entire time, right under my nose? You sent out that message so I could interperet it. I never expected such treachery from my senior espionage chief."
Kerensky couldn't stare her in the eyes. If he stood up to her at all, he would die.
"You will not get away with this. I will purge the Politburo of any even slight Greco-French sympathizers. You will live out your life in a Gulag in Germany. Enjoy."
Suddenly, Kerensky wished he had stared Catherine in the eyes.
Athens, Greece--February 3, 1953--12:30 P.M. local time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexander stood up a pen on his desk and wobbled it. The revolution was rather boring; It was more of a change of staff set up than anything (all the old Communist party members had been elected. The Greek people, while bright, were like cattle in politics).
Maximus knocked on the door of Alexander's office. During the Greco-Roman war in the 20's, he had defected to the Greek Communists and led the people of Antium to unite with Greece. He worked his way through the foreign ministry and managed his way up to Ambassador to Paris.
"Alexander, what do you think of this "Quiet Revolution"? Doesn't seem to be accomplishing much, is it?"
Alexander continued to apathetically wobble his pen and stared up at Maximus. Maximus certainly looked Roman; Brown hair, straight complexion, long face, a short-trimmed beard; he was reflective of Ceaser but Ceaser was put on a show trial. Messy ordeal.
"What do you think?"
Maximus let out a low-key laugh. "At any rate, I have some figured from Couplain. Either the French economy is booming or their propaganda ministry is. They've more than tripled their production capacity since Joan's death. As much of a patriot she was, she didn't seem to know squat about running her country."
Alexander remembered Joan's funeral procession through the streets of Paris. Frenchmen, housewives, and Russian refugees lined the main street, sobbing, looking up at the tricolor flags everywhere; The entire French population must have met their to honor their fallen leader.
"Maximus, I would ask that we show our fallen friend a little more respect". There had been a little spark, or something of the like, between him and Joan. Most surely he would have married her had he not been married since 3999 B.C. (the man waited no time in selecting an empress to spend eternity with). He sighed, and continued to wobble his pen.
Maximus abashed. He represented the entire Roman population of Greece; willing, patriotic, but with their own culture nonetheless.
"Well, I'll keep getting Couplain to fork over these figures. Before long, they should be able to match the English--we might be ready for our 'war' soon."
Alexander let his pen fall as Maximus left the room.
Athor's Note: I just felt like writing ^^. I hope I've still got a few fans out there.
Kefka
Your local Schizophrenic
Dude we just don't really wan't to reply to much cause we don't wan't to Interupt the story much :crazyeyes
and what do you mean your watching the views you have like 700 something views I wish my story had that many
Warlord Sam
2500 hours and counting..
- Joined
- Oct 27, 2001
- Messages
- 379
Its like a present or something, I thought you had just given up on this story!! Huzzah for Toasty's return!
Athens, Greece--February 6, 1953--12:01 A.M. local time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexander, now President of the Greek Democratic Republic, striding atop his best generals (including Maximus) in his very best blue & white striped jammies, watched as Catherine delivered her declaration of war against France. The War Room world map spread apart to show a large, flat-screened telivision.
It was 12:01 P.M. in Moscow, on the other side of the world. The screen phased in and out, as the Russians had bought shotty broadcasting suystems from the English.
"My fellow Countrymen of our holy motherland, today I greet you. The life of our mother Russia depends today upon you, your children, your children's children, and even their childrens children. Today the Red Guard marches for Paris.
"Former generations as well as those who stand here today have often seen the soldiers of the First Guard Regiment and My Guards at this place. We were brought together then by an oath of allegiance which we swore before God. Today all have gathered to pray for the triumph of our weapons, for now that oath must be proved to the last drop of blood. The sword, which I have left in its scabbard for decades, shall decide.
"I expect My First Guard Regiment on Foot and My Guards to add a new page of fame to their glorious history. The celebration today finds us confident in God in the Highest and remembering the glorious days of Peter, Nicholas, and Alexei. Our ancient fame is an appeal to the Russian people and their sword. And the entire Russian nation to the last man has grasped the sword. And so I draw the sword which with the help of God I have kept in its scabbard for decades.
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the expression of your loyalty and your esteem. When it comes to war, all parties cease and we are all brothers. One or another party has attacked me in peacetime, but now I forgive them wholeheartedly. If our neighbors do not give us peace, then we hope and wish that our good Russian sword will come victorious out of this war!"
Alexander clicked off the screen, and turned to his men.
"Well, Maximus, I guess we really had no need for US to declare war, did we?"
Maximus grimly stared at Alexander. The Roman man's complexion was pale, and tired, as if he had not slept for 48 hours.
After a brief silence, Alexander looked at the rest of his generals.
"And what is our military status, eh? The SDI is ten years from completion, and we and our grounded army ARE SITTING DUCKS!"
Alexander seethed and pounded his fist on the desk.
"You, you and your failure to develop our navy, our helicopter force, and the very mobility of the Greek army has left France to face both the bear and the Lion.
"This may be a Democracy, gentlemen, but let me assure you I can change that. You either bail out Couplain, level Moscow, and burn London, or it's YOUR heads."
In the corner, Alexander's frail wife, sick with Lung cancer, cowered in fear.
Alexander ignored her. His entire life's work was at stake. Greece would either triumph, or destroy itself. He would not give Catherine and her dirty Communists the satisfaction of taking down the great nation.
As soon as Alexander left, an ICBM hit Sparta, a city only a few hundered miles Northwest of Athens. The nuclear holocaust had just begun.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexander, now President of the Greek Democratic Republic, striding atop his best generals (including Maximus) in his very best blue & white striped jammies, watched as Catherine delivered her declaration of war against France. The War Room world map spread apart to show a large, flat-screened telivision.
It was 12:01 P.M. in Moscow, on the other side of the world. The screen phased in and out, as the Russians had bought shotty broadcasting suystems from the English.
"My fellow Countrymen of our holy motherland, today I greet you. The life of our mother Russia depends today upon you, your children, your children's children, and even their childrens children. Today the Red Guard marches for Paris.
"Former generations as well as those who stand here today have often seen the soldiers of the First Guard Regiment and My Guards at this place. We were brought together then by an oath of allegiance which we swore before God. Today all have gathered to pray for the triumph of our weapons, for now that oath must be proved to the last drop of blood. The sword, which I have left in its scabbard for decades, shall decide.
"I expect My First Guard Regiment on Foot and My Guards to add a new page of fame to their glorious history. The celebration today finds us confident in God in the Highest and remembering the glorious days of Peter, Nicholas, and Alexei. Our ancient fame is an appeal to the Russian people and their sword. And the entire Russian nation to the last man has grasped the sword. And so I draw the sword which with the help of God I have kept in its scabbard for decades.
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the expression of your loyalty and your esteem. When it comes to war, all parties cease and we are all brothers. One or another party has attacked me in peacetime, but now I forgive them wholeheartedly. If our neighbors do not give us peace, then we hope and wish that our good Russian sword will come victorious out of this war!"
Alexander clicked off the screen, and turned to his men.
"Well, Maximus, I guess we really had no need for US to declare war, did we?"
Maximus grimly stared at Alexander. The Roman man's complexion was pale, and tired, as if he had not slept for 48 hours.
After a brief silence, Alexander looked at the rest of his generals.
"And what is our military status, eh? The SDI is ten years from completion, and we and our grounded army ARE SITTING DUCKS!"
Alexander seethed and pounded his fist on the desk.
"You, you and your failure to develop our navy, our helicopter force, and the very mobility of the Greek army has left France to face both the bear and the Lion.
"This may be a Democracy, gentlemen, but let me assure you I can change that. You either bail out Couplain, level Moscow, and burn London, or it's YOUR heads."
In the corner, Alexander's frail wife, sick with Lung cancer, cowered in fear.
Alexander ignored her. His entire life's work was at stake. Greece would either triumph, or destroy itself. He would not give Catherine and her dirty Communists the satisfaction of taking down the great nation.
As soon as Alexander left, an ICBM hit Sparta, a city only a few hundered miles Northwest of Athens. The nuclear holocaust had just begun.
6-of-october
Pharaoh
- Joined
- Jan 24, 2002
- Messages
- 79
too bad your a lazy writer
EmprorCoopinius
Warlord
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2002
- Messages
- 135
Is that why Catherine said "our good German sword" at the end? 
Great story though, I like all the little touches, shoddy English broadcasting equipment, etc. Keep writing!
Great story though, I like all the little touches, shoddy English broadcasting equipment, etc. Keep writing!
Warlord Sam
2500 hours and counting..
- Joined
- Oct 27, 2001
- Messages
- 379
I love your stories, toasty!!! They are so submersive, full of details! So good!
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