Multipolarity IV Game Thread

OOC: Tani, you forgotten my claims from the last turn!

King Richard IV has made an imperial decree to the Royal Navy and Marines to establish trading outposts on the islands off the coast of Spain.

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OOC: Tani, you forgotten my claims from the last turn!

King Richard IV has made an imperial decree to the Royal Navy and Marines to establish trading outposts on the islands off the coast of Spain.

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The Kingdom of Iceland-Norway is already laying claim to these islands.
 
The Kingdom of Iceland-Norway is already laying claim to these islands.
Are you open to negotiations? If not, we'll look at the Canary Islands instead.
 
5 gold given to Britain as compensation for unregistered claims.

We'll see when the lock is as situations develop. :p
 
Important Announcement:

In accordance with international law, human/nonhuman trafficking within the Confederacy is considered a felony crime and is illegal within Lethian territory and territorial waters. Any slaves brought within Leth borders will be seized immediately with no monetary compensation by Confederate authorities and will fall under the jurisdiction of the Lethian Confederacy.
 
We're open to negotiations.

How does this proposal sound? We'll take the eastern portion and leave the western portion to the Kingdom of Iceland-Norway.

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#14

Spoiler :
Flight Officer Phillip Seymour's Si-47 Leopard doggedly battered its way through the sky, the vehicle's sky blue coloration featuring new icy white trim along the edges of its curved wings which periodically spreading over the aircraft's canopy only to be repelled by an advanced liquid de-icer. As gale-force winds buffeted the seemingly fragile craft, its pilot expertly rolled the craft in concert with the winds in order to use the vertical thrusters to avoid being carried away by the hurricane.

Inside the aircraft, a blonde woman clenched her teeth in the back seat, helpless. Her fate rested in the hands of the unnaturally calm pilot controlling the Leopard.

Seymour gripped the control stick with his right hand, black glove concealing his white knuckles. Seymour's left hand remained constantly by the throttle controls, making the uncompromisingly precise adjustments necessary to fly through a typhoon. His left hand flicked from the thrust levers for a second to press a red button. The momentary inattention allowed 150 kph winds to toss his aircraft through the sky for a second before he regained control. The woman in back clasped her hands together, knuckles white. Flight Officer Seymour then spoke, although it was more of a shout over the howling winds "Whiskey Six out of Hotel Actual calling Echelon. Request instrument landing. Delta Golf. Reply."

Two minutes and six coats of de-icer later, Seymour again spoke into the radio as his plane swerved. "Whiskey Six out of Hotel Actual calling Echelon. Request instrument landing. Delta Golf. Reply."

This time, he got a reply. A male voice. "Echelon Papa receiving. Three-Seven Kilo Sierra; Alpha Six-Four-Zero-Zero."

Behind Seymour, the woman whooped. Seymour breathed for what seemed the first time in four hours, then fought the hurricane as he turned his Si-47 south and raised its nose. "Whiskey Six, confirming Three-Seven Kilo Sierra; Alpha Six-Five-Zero-Seven." Seymour stated, following protocol.

"Negative. Three-Seven Kilo Sierra; Alpha Six-Four-Zero-Zero. Papa Echelon Over." The male voice corrected with a faint Greek accent.

"Roger." Phillip Seymour affirmed. "Advise: Fuel on emergency reserve." For a few tense moments, he fought his aircraft south and up. It was slow going - due to the constant rolling and the many demands on engine thrust, the Leopard barely averaged ninety kilometers per hour.

The woman in back cupped her hands in front of her mouth and shouted "Isn't the emergency reserve only forty minutes?"

"Only? That's plenty of time!" Seymour yelled back. "We'll land on that ship in style!"

"You sure?" Zoe asked quietly.

"Well a little incentive would help!" Seymour teased.

Zoe smiled, but didn't reply.

At altitude and five kilometers, Phillip activated the radio again "Whiskey Six, Five Kilo November; at Alpha. Negative visual - request instrument landing."

The vaguely Greek voice responded "Echelon Papa, confirmed. Make your speed One-One-Zero, maintain heading. Prepare for docking computer to take control."

"Whiskey Six, roger. Over." Flight Officer Seymour accepted.

The Si-47 arrowed into the howling icy winds. Visible in the near distance were numerous red, green, and white lights floating in the sky, denoting the outlines of four airships. Once, a gust blew the Leopard within a hundred meters of a white light revealed to be mounted on a metal rod extending above the Haven itself an indistinct shape.

"Echelon Papa, Whiskey Six. Delta Charlie synced."

"Whiskey Six, confirming." Seymour released the controls as his Leopard flew of its own accord towards the Absolute Power, then under it interposing the airship between itself and the wind.

The Si-47 leveled off, then floated towards the Absolute Power's hanger. The aircraft came in on its final approach to the moving airship, then its thrust engines suddenly flared, tossing the upwards at a 15 degree angle.

Zoe screamed as the iced gray hull of the Absolute Power came too close, then blackness.

2202:

Zoe screamed and sat bolt upright, drenched in her own sweat, as every scar on her body twinged in pain. Beside her Phillip started, further displacing the leopard-print bed covers.

"I'm here, love." Seymour soothed as he hugged her.

"No, get away!" Zoe shouted as she tried to push him away, eyes staring into a middle distance only she could see.

"It's okay. You're safe." Phillip continued. He embraced her, and she didn't fight him. "You're not in danger. Everything will be alright."

For a few minutes, they held each other, tears dripping down her face as her breathing returned to normal. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

"You've been through a lot." Seymour calmed as he stroked her hair. "You're strong."

"No." Zoe replied.

"Yes." He answered. "A strong person gets up every time they fall down. I wouldn't have you any other way."

Zoe smiled. "Don't say that last part." She whispered into his ear.

----------------


#15: Early morning, 2202.
Spoiler :

Shrev checked his watch. "9:24 AM. Where is our Amatyi of Haven?" He asked the room at large. Raekhimnijong twitched in his chair. Doumont sipped his iced tea. Annabelle, leaning against the wall near the door, casually pulled out a knife and rubbed it on her shirt.

"9:30 AM." The Dictator announced. "As per policy, this meeting doesn't start with one absent. Annabelle, go get our Amatyi, would you?"

"By your command, Sir." Annabelle saluted, knife in hand, before walking out of the conference room humming a jaunty tune.

"Thank you." Shrev acknowledged her. "I really need to get a mistress." He added quietly as his eyes wandered across her retreating form.

-----------

Zoe slipped on a pink dress and black 6" heels, then started for the door. Phillip had left not ten minutes ago. The door opened suddenly, revealing "Annabelle." Zoe sighed.

"You're late." Annabelle observed. "Boss says they need you at the meeting." Annabelle started down the corridor.

Zoe hastened forward, desperately trying to keep up with Annabelle's half-run without tripping.

"By the way: Those shoes? Fun in bed with some guys, but a pretty terrible choice on a military airship." Annabelle observed neutrally.

"I'd love to see you walk in these." Zoe hissed through gritted teeth. "Miss Tomboy."

"Join the club." Annabelle eyed Zoe. "And that dress? Points for choosing a short skirt which doesn't interfere with your legs, but I'm certain that's not why you picked it."

"Not everything is about fighting." Zoe retorted hotly. "Sometimes you can let your hair down, be pretty."

"Not about fighting? Funny hearing that from an Amatyi." Annabelle replied coolly. "I thought you guys learned how to be strong from the jungle. So far, not impressed."

"No, really. I can see you in some nice blue shoes, white ankle-length dress - you'd be beautiful." Zoe argued. "If you like, we can have a date - I show you how to act like a girl, maybe be a human."

"So I can be slow, stupid, and helpless with nowhere to hide my guns?" Annabelle answered with a slight edge in her voice.

"Being strong isn't about not having weaknesses!" Zoe shouted furiously. "It's about putting yourself, your life, back together every time it falls apart."

"I prefer just not falling apart." Annabelle stated calmly.

"How are you even still employed?" Zoe whispered angrily.

"Because I'm the best there is." Annabelle replied. "If you don't like me, get your butt to the meetings on time so I don't have to escort you."

"I...had a good reason for not being on time." Zoe blushed slightly.

"Playing with your toy pilot is not something we regulate, Amatyi." Annabelle explained. "But it is not an excuse for being late."

"What? How do you...how....you...." Zoe stammered, flustered.

"I know everything that happens on this ship." Annabelle stated simply. "Except I didn't know that until a few seconds ago - that Flight Officer Seymour chooses to spend his leave time on this ship is a powerful argument, but isn't absolute."

"You can't tell this to anyone." Zoe begged.

"I don't need to." Annabelle replied cheerfully. "It's a complete secret, so naturally the entire ship knows."

"Since when is my love life public record?" Zoe spluttered. "And if the whole ship knows, why hasn't anyone pressured him about it?"

"This is a big ship, but we're one community. That's because almost everyone on this ship is some sort of VIP - they run the gamut of too respectful all the way to can't use the favors." Annabelle answered. "Keep up." She admonished when Zoe began to fall behind.

"Hey! Slow down a litt-" Zoe tripped and fell halfway through her sentence.

Annabelle stopped. "Get up, Amatyi." She growled.

"Gah." Zoe expressed. "I wouldn't have tripped if you weren't going so fast."

"You wouldn't have tripped if you'd picked boots or gone barefoot." Annabelle observed. "Come on."

"One minute!" Zoe shouted as she began to haul herself up.

"I figure you're a big bad Amatyi, you can catch up." Annabelle turned and replied flippantly.

"Oh that's it!" Zoe somehow dashed forward and slugged Annabelle in the face. "You have been asking for that since I arrived on this ship!" Zoe yelled furiously as Annabelle staggered two steps backwards. "I don't know and I don't care what your deal is. Keep your insecurities to yourself."

Annabelle wiped her mouth, noted the lack of blood, then raised her fists. "Biggest mistake of your life."

-------------

"10:22 AM." Shrev announced to the conference room irritatedly. "I go to all the trouble of working up a schedule, getting it printed, distributing it to everyone, making sure all the times add up and - quite frankly, I'd expect this from Annabelle, but other people?"

"It's possible our Amatyi got lost and Annabelle had to find her." Doumont observed neutrally.

"Why are we even concerned about them being here?" Raekhimnijong asked earnestly. "Zoe hasn't said a word on policy ever, and Annabelle just stands right next to the door looking sexy."

Shrev raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to pretend you meant 'menacing'."

"Menacing, sexy, sometimes the same thing." Raekhimnijong said absently.

"Okay, I'm going to pretend a hole in space swallowed that last sentence. Therefore, that's what happened." The Dictator commanded.

Annabelle sauntered through the door, a bruise upon her left cheek and the biggest smile Shrev could remember seeing upon her face.

"Annabelle! You're here." Shrev exclaimed happily.

"What happened to you?" Doumont questioned with concern. "Should we call a nurse?"

"I'm fine, I just walked into a pole." Annabelle explained happily.

"I'm glad you're okay." The Dictator stated honestly, looking her directly in the eyes.

A minute stretched out, then Zoe stumbled into the conference room. Her dress was ripped, she had two black eyes and several visible bruises, and was barefoot.

"Oh my god, what happened to you?!" Doumont and Raekhimnijong exclaimed at the same time.

"I....fell down...some stairs." Zoe gasped.

"Some stairs?" Shrev asked with concern.

"Okay...a lot of..stairs." Zoe clarified painfully. "Maybe all the stairs."

"And still made it to the 9 AM sharp meeting at 10:26 AM." The Dictator observed. "Would you please take a seat? You look like you're going to collapse."


National policy RPs to follow.
 
I have deliberated and reached a decision.

Orders shall lock on Saturday in about 72 hours. For those with exams this should give you the week to do your exams. When in doubt just send me a general direction you want for your nation and I can do that for you.

As always orders can be submitted after the lock but have a chance of being rejected.
 
The 501st Legion is now guaranteeing the independence of the Iron Dominion of China; furthermore, we are prepared to offer the Iron Chef (?) a full military alliance in exchange for the right to base troop out of Iron China.
 
The Leth Confederacy would also like to announce their support for the Iron Dominion's independence.
 
Just posting a friendly reminder to Chicago that a declaration of war against New England is a declaration of war against the Kingdom of Iceland-Norway and by an extension a declaration of war on our allies.
 
While I'm making a friendly reminder that embargoes must be in your PMed orders or else they run the risk of being lost.

Means I don't have to climb through the thread to find them and can readily add them to my list.
 
ULTIMATUM TO PSA

It is time for the workers of the oppressive regime to be freed. We demand that you surrender to the Red Army immediately.

However, if you decide not to call on international aid we may accept a compromise where you cede the southern part of your country and submit to becoming a client state or something to that effect. Again, the only mercy you will be shown so long as you deny any intentional protection offers. There's no reason anyone has to die to achieve paradise... Unless you want it to happen.
 
ULTIMATUM TO PSA

It is time for the workers of the oppressive regime to be freed. We demand that you surrender to the Red Army immediately.

However, if you decide not to call on international aid we may accept a compromise where you cede the southern part of your country and submit to becoming a client state or something to that effect. Again, the only mercy you will be shown so long as you deny any intentional protection offers. There's no reason anyone has to die to achieve paradise... Unless you want it to happen.

The Kingdom of Iceland-Norway will not stand for aggression to a friendly nation. We urge that Chicago back off with the saber rattling and worry about more pressing issues. Like the fact you're surrounded by my allies.
 
Defensive alliances aren't made to be power blocs. I'm not attacking Scandinavians, thus legitimacy of defensive alliances in this case is void. Alas, I cannot stop the capitalist pigs from stomping on honor. We shall see what others have to say.
 
Defensive alliances aren't made to be power blocs. I'm not attacking Scandinavians, thus legitimacy of defensive alliances in this case is void. Alas, I cannot stop the capitalist pigs from stomping on honor. We shall see what others have to say.

An attack on the PSA is an attack on Iceland, as it would threaten significant amounts of money and Icelandic interests within the nation.
 
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