Restless Minds & Empty Hearts
- Thread starter Crezth
- Start date
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- imperium offtopicum
thomas.berubeg
Wandering the World
provisionally claiming west africa, liberia region.
Crezth
i knew you were a real man of the left
I've created a current claims map innit. I have changed some of your submitted colors to have better contrast with the borders and with other nations, to preserve distinction. If you think you had best oughts a different color then we can discuss it thereto. The labels are provisional and will be more attractive in future.
Note Liberia has been requested by thomas of berubeg and so please be considerate of his intentions there.
Note Liberia has been requested by thomas of berubeg and so please be considerate of his intentions there.
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The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland
Government:
It's entirely possible!
Let's see, something about London had ahh, fell? Fallen? Fellen-fallen? Really, the history books are *quite* unclear. But we sorted it out, right-proper we did, raised the Union Jack right up on there. Her Enduring Majesty was quite pleased I must say. Queen Victoria, God bless her soul, reigns once more at Buckingham Palace. She's always reigned from there. Always.
Speaking of, we think she may be Queen of other places but the record is a bit fuzzy. No matter! We'll sort it out soon enough!
Her Enduring Majesty, Queen Victoria I
May she reign eternal!
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Robert Can't
Éponine
Sunday 4th December 1921
We arrived today in Auckland. Its been a long journey but Gavrilo is a good laugh and its been pleasure to share a cabin with him. Of most relief today was that my cello has survived the journey. The people here are different, less affected by the horrors that befell us in Europe. They've been too far away for too long and they seem to think that the world can continue on just the same. They don't realise what humanity is these days.
We're the heirs to endless woe once again. Europe is all madness. When me and Gavrilo left our home we were keenly aware of what fate would befall us if we were to stay in the path of the Austrian advance. Our poor city was the spark that ignited the world. In the news I've heard since then they say that the Austrians burned the city to the ground as a last defiant act before their nation like so many others fell into collapse. All the bridges blown up, the walls of our homes blackened and the river blocked by the bodies of the dead.
This war was madness and I think all of us Sarajevans felt some sense of blame for it. Its stripped humanity of its decency and blackened the skies with fear and evil. I don't understand the locals here, they keep trudging along like nothing happened, holding elections, debating policy and pretending the world still works like it used to. I asked a young man about it in the accommodation that we found, he said something about having a stiff upper lip. Most people don't want to seem to talk about the war here. Its in stark contrast to the boat - back then it was all we could talk about - we had to talk about it or else the thought of it would have driven us all mad. Maybe that's what happened here? Maybe all the New Zealanders are mad.
Whatever the case this is about as far as myself and Gavrilo could get from Sarajevo, I hope never to have to return to Europe. The Europe I know died in the war and what's left is hardly recognisable - Madmen driven to horrible ends by the worst imaginable of collective trauma. Tomorrow I will go out and see if the Cellist of Sarajevo can find some work in this place. Gavrilo said he's got plans of going down to the docks, he met some people who said there was good work down there.
I hope all is still going well for you. I'll enclose the address we are at now just in case this ever reaches you. I know we won't ever see each other again but I hold out hope that this will reach you and we won't be eternally apart.
With love,
Vedran
Some Diagrams For the Diagram Hunters
We arrived today in Auckland. Its been a long journey but Gavrilo is a good laugh and its been pleasure to share a cabin with him. Of most relief today was that my cello has survived the journey. The people here are different, less affected by the horrors that befell us in Europe. They've been too far away for too long and they seem to think that the world can continue on just the same. They don't realise what humanity is these days.
We're the heirs to endless woe once again. Europe is all madness. When me and Gavrilo left our home we were keenly aware of what fate would befall us if we were to stay in the path of the Austrian advance. Our poor city was the spark that ignited the world. In the news I've heard since then they say that the Austrians burned the city to the ground as a last defiant act before their nation like so many others fell into collapse. All the bridges blown up, the walls of our homes blackened and the river blocked by the bodies of the dead.
This war was madness and I think all of us Sarajevans felt some sense of blame for it. Its stripped humanity of its decency and blackened the skies with fear and evil. I don't understand the locals here, they keep trudging along like nothing happened, holding elections, debating policy and pretending the world still works like it used to. I asked a young man about it in the accommodation that we found, he said something about having a stiff upper lip. Most people don't want to seem to talk about the war here. Its in stark contrast to the boat - back then it was all we could talk about - we had to talk about it or else the thought of it would have driven us all mad. Maybe that's what happened here? Maybe all the New Zealanders are mad.
Whatever the case this is about as far as myself and Gavrilo could get from Sarajevo, I hope never to have to return to Europe. The Europe I know died in the war and what's left is hardly recognisable - Madmen driven to horrible ends by the worst imaginable of collective trauma. Tomorrow I will go out and see if the Cellist of Sarajevo can find some work in this place. Gavrilo said he's got plans of going down to the docks, he met some people who said there was good work down there.
I hope all is still going well for you. I'll enclose the address we are at now just in case this ever reaches you. I know we won't ever see each other again but I hold out hope that this will reach you and we won't be eternally apart.
With love,
Vedran
Some Diagrams For the Diagram Hunters
Spoiler :
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Belgarion95
Walking Enthusiast
- Joined
- May 21, 2014
- Messages
- 102
Republic of Zanzibar
Government: Dictatorship
In assessing the spread and impact of Pan-Wagangism, German and British surveyors alike would underestimate both its scope and depth. Rejecting Christianity by Mission and the Zanzibari Sultanate's Islam, while simultaneously fusing Orthodox, Semitic, and Islamic themes with the indigenous wagangan tradition, Pan-Wagangism evolved simultaneously in disparate communities, before the creation of the secret "Zanzibar Group," named for the location of the 1886 conference of waganga at which the first governing doctrine was developed. Thereafter, the movement grew in number and in fervor, as the varied deities were accepted into a growing pantheon, and the movements philosophy became increasingly homogenized. New themes, rejecting cultural and political enslavement and celebrating African martial might, were gradually introduced. These themes became dominant, as the movement developed a political focus with the ascension of Mtumwa Popobawa to the Chairmanship of the Zanzibar Group in 1912.
Though it is known that the group began arming itself during the Great War, it is unclear when precisely the revolution took hold; the token European governing administrations were expelled, and the Sultan of Zanzibar was thrown into the streets and executed. Having infiltrated the colonial bureaucracy before the revolution, and inspiring shockingly fervent loyalty to the new regime from the remainder, a strong executive was established under the firm hand of President Popobawa.
Government: Dictatorship
In assessing the spread and impact of Pan-Wagangism, German and British surveyors alike would underestimate both its scope and depth. Rejecting Christianity by Mission and the Zanzibari Sultanate's Islam, while simultaneously fusing Orthodox, Semitic, and Islamic themes with the indigenous wagangan tradition, Pan-Wagangism evolved simultaneously in disparate communities, before the creation of the secret "Zanzibar Group," named for the location of the 1886 conference of waganga at which the first governing doctrine was developed. Thereafter, the movement grew in number and in fervor, as the varied deities were accepted into a growing pantheon, and the movements philosophy became increasingly homogenized. New themes, rejecting cultural and political enslavement and celebrating African martial might, were gradually introduced. These themes became dominant, as the movement developed a political focus with the ascension of Mtumwa Popobawa to the Chairmanship of the Zanzibar Group in 1912.
Though it is known that the group began arming itself during the Great War, it is unclear when precisely the revolution took hold; the token European governing administrations were expelled, and the Sultan of Zanzibar was thrown into the streets and executed. Having infiltrated the colonial bureaucracy before the revolution, and inspiring shockingly fervent loyalty to the new regime from the remainder, a strong executive was established under the firm hand of President Popobawa.
Crezth
i knew you were a real man of the left
Update Zero: Shin Sekai Yori
January 1, 1921
January 1, 1921
It feels like years since I've had the time to sit down and collect my thoughts. Perhaps it has been years. I just realized it's the first day of 1921. I know I left Russia in 1917, and I guess it took me until now to get over the constant noise of chaos and warfare. Either the din has become as silence in my mind, or I have truly found a peaceful place.
I write "peaceful" as if that word truly had any meaning anymore. Bah! Ten years ago, peaceful to me was a pinch of tobacco and a bottle of sherry. Now peace is streets lined with soldiers, armed checkpoints, and - it must be said - not a wicked thing in sight. Now peace is a day and a night without the skies filled with fire and the constant thunderclaps of big guns. Now peace is a weapon, locked and loaded, but not firing. "Peace," indeed.
I suppose I had better explain what I am doing here in the Republic of Krakow. Funny thing, that - no sooner did the Catastrophe sweep across Eastern Europe than Galicia was thronged with angry peasants. Their country destroyed, their taxes crippling - the Kaisers, both of them, hanged - the Tsar, devoured by a monster - and the up-jumped peasants of the city of Krakow declared their independence. Where some see horror, others see opportunity, I suppose.
I still remember the February Catastrophe as if it were yesterday. I was living in Kyiv at the time. It was fortunate I had left Petrograd when I did - the Russian provisionalists, bourgeoisie and clever nobles all, had seen those bread riots did not end until the monarchy did. They were excited, them and their friends the "Soviets," excited that they had at last broken the Tsar's power.
But the Tsar was not as excited as them. No sooner was he in their care and with his family in the palace again than his old friend, that mad monk Rasputin, came calling at his request. Then the city exploded.
What Rasputin did, or didn't do, is anybody's guess. But the next thing anyone knew the north was swept in a sudden plague of devils. Ordinary folks, soldiers, nobles, the poor, all were face-to-face with the very thing God had struggled to protect us from for millennia. There was no hope for peace anymore. A deathly plague had gripped Russia.
I therefore fled westwards, anxious to leave Ukraine before these demons I had heard of could come upon me, but I only got as far as Romania before the borders stopped me. Of course there was no getting past the Austrian armies. I found a group of like-minded refugees, and we went south towards Constantinople instead.
It was while I was passing through Plovdiv that the first news came that the "Rasputin experiment" had spread further and wider than anyone knew. Simultaneous events were occurring all over the world. Crowds gripped with fever madness. Lords exercising all their authority with far more cruelty than ever before. Armies defecting en masse to loot and pillage. The war situation in the west had deteriorated into total incapability.
I believe it was then that I realized that the doing of that mad monk had not merely opened a mouth to hell in one place. No, I realized, that was preposterous. One does not open Pandora's Box and remain untouched by its contents; one does not eat the apple without absorbing its knowledge. The world was changing, and all of the brutality, the warmongering and hatred of the past years, had swelled up horrendously and abominably. The Kaiser of Germany had been hanged. The Kaiser of Austria - beheaded. It seemed as if civilization itself was dissolving into nothingness.
I first encountered the devils in Constantinople. There, at the gates of that magnificent city, my group and I picnicked on the shores of the Black Sea. We had been rejected entrance to the city proper, as it was in quarantine, and were planning our next move. Then we saw that from the sea a flotilla of Russian vessels was driving madly towards the strait. We gawked - could they really expect to penetrate the city? What was their game? We quickly moved to higher ground, and then we saw that the ships were not attacking but fleeing - fleeing a monster of incredible size, which rose from the depths of the ocean and, with claws the size of clock towers, crashed down upon the flotilla, sending it sprawling, and devastating the shores and harbor with massive waves.
We had a much-changed mood after that. Hopeless was not the right word - we were more pragmatic. We decided immediately that Constantinople was definitely not the place to be. Shouldering our packs again, we went west, hoping to get find passage on a boat out of Adriatic, perhaps out of Europe entirely.
It was on this road, seeing many omens, the caws of ravens and the howls of shrill wolves, and hiding frequently from soldiers, gangs, and mobs that went hither and to, that we first encountered the Albanians. They did not go alone - they came armed with great machines, that towered above our heads. I recognized at once the design of my combustion engine, but somehow these sophisticated machines were complex in a way I had scarce been able to fathom before: moving limbs, precise appendages, and agile motion. We were taken as captives by the Albanians, and it was in their company I learned that the design of these machines had been made possible by a sudden proliferation of new knowledge in Albania. Apparently, someone had replicated Rasputin's experiment in Tirana, and had learned from his divinations the blueprints of otherworldly machines. It would have been too fantastic to believe, even seeing that beast in the sea, as I knew that these machines would have been complex to design on a scale that could hardly be comprehended, but I did see these things lumbering, clanking, and spewing smoke fumes.
Before we crossed the border back into Albania, we were set upon a gang of janissary rogues, armed with small rifles, who fought like men possessed. Leading them, a strange figure, sat atop a horse and with black armor and a wicked visage, seemed to carry with him the strength of a hundred-and-seventy men. I saw then for the first time, these machine warriors do pitched battle with these dark outsiders, and watched as the machine cannons laid into the janissaries with horrendous carnage. The dark horseman, however, shrugged off the great shots of the machine warrior's large cannon and charged him with a spear - a spear that shredded the machine in two.
I won't forget my comrade, Dmitri Agdonov, from Smolensk, who took up a pike and gun and distracted the janissaries long enough for the rest of us to escape. He was young - much younger than me, younger than any of us by far - but he seemed to not fear this dark warrior. "Come at me, you thing of darkness!" he screamed. "I do not fear you, for God is with me." He would not hear of abandoning his stand. He seemed almost willing to die.
We did not harangue his choice for longer than was necessary. We left him there and managed to escape into the foothills of Kosovo, and were left with only our thoughts and a need to forage. It was clear we wouldn't survive long in any case, even if we didn't know these lands were roaming with terrors and monsters.
We arrived in Kosovo itself not long after, a town whose militia seemed to have established an oasis among the death and chaos. We took refuge there and absorbed the news from around the world: it seemed as if every old power had crumbled, with bitter survival and war the only laws that had survived. After all that had come to pass, our little group was exhausted. We doubted very much if there was any place worth seeking refuge in now, any place that had been untouched by the chaos. The news also spoke of an army of Belarussians which had steadfast stood its ground on the very doorstep of the catastrophe, and of Germans who had created a republic in the stead of the Kaiser's reich, of a mercenary army of Andorra that had crucified a thousand demons in Barcelona. As we knew of the Krakowians' stable city, and hearing it was a bastion of refuge, we set forth north again, planning to make the final journey to the crest of the Carpathians.
It seems strange to reflect on it now, as back then I surely did not believe that it was really true the Kaiser had fallen, or that empires as France and Spain had collapsed, or the United States had split apart in civil war once more - but now as I think of it, again living here in Krakow, I suppose it makes perfect sense. For every devil we saw in those days, nothing chilled my bone so much as that scarred Albanian officer, leaning over us to say, calmly, coldly, that he would flay us all and nail us to an oak if any of us tried to flee. He was so very serious. When the dark horseman separated that same officer's head from his body, I thought to myself: the officer himself would have done no different.
I grow weary. It has been a long year, and these accounts take much out of me. I can make electricity move from one side of the room to the other, but even in my old age I am no closer to understanding man or the universe than when I was a child. I may have said once, in my youth, that a great calamity could turn the whole world upside down, but what can it do the nature of man? The world in ruins, an ecology of devilry run amok, and still man dreams, schemes, and fights.
I must put down my pen and rest. There is much to write about in future, as the new works of man have found a place here. Let this be my foreword, to you from a future age, curious about the days of destruction. This is my letter to you, from the new world.
Velimir Mironov
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Map of the world, with countries labeled
Map without labels (use this to make claims)
THE STATS
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Map of the world, with countries labeled
Map without labels (use this to make claims)
THE STATS
Spoiler NPCs :
NEW PLAYERS, you can join:
- As one of the NPCs, ready-made. You may make some alterations to the NPC if you like, and feel free to tell me about them. If you want to completely change the NPC, that is okay, but please write a story explaining how the revolution occurred!
- As a NEW nation in unoccupied territory, claiming between 8 and 12 territories. If you claim more than 8 territories, your starting finance score will be reduced by an appropriate amount to reflect the expansion demerit that already-existing nations already have to deal with.
- As a REBEL NATION in someone else's country. In order to do this, you select one province and secretly PM me who you would like to rebel against, identifying the province. If your rebellion ends up being crushed, the country you rebelled against will get a nice unity and political capital bonus for crushing you, and you cannot join as a rebel against them again for the rest of the game.
The next (first) update will consist of the time from January 1, 1921 to June 15, 1921.
To send orders (which you may post in the thread or PM to me, and please do clearly label your PMs with your country name), you should:
- Explain how you're investing your Economic Power this turn. Unused EP is banked up to a certain limit.
- Explain where you will put your 4 claims (you do not have to use all claims; unused claims will be banked). Next turn you will only get 3 claims.*
- Explain any trade deals you're forming, and with whom (they must be confirmed by the other party as well in their own orders).
- Explain how you're using your Political Capital, if you are.
*If you claim another player's claim or vice-versa, a coin will be flipped. You can hedge your chances by sending troops. NPCs will not claim the same territory as PCs but they may threaten you.
That's the size of it. Go forth!
Get thee thy orders in no later than Saturday, December 9, please and thank you.
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Immaculate
unerring
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2003
- Messages
- 7,623
To The Union of the Pacific (@Ophorian)
From Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras,
An aging fishing ship, obviously battle-scarred and converted to exploration and trade arrives at your shores. They are representatives of a distant people, "We represent the Church of Santa Muerte and are pleased to see there is some civilization that remains in the north. Let us trade to ensure our mutual well-being and prosperity"
propose trade agreement
To Kaiserreich Brazilien (@tobiisagoodboy )
From Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras,
The little ship that arrives at your shores is badly damaged, listing dangerously and its occupants are clearly in need of assistance. They speak of the 'devils of Venezuela' but seem happy to see a civilization 'beyond the savages'.
"We represent the Church of Santa Muerte and are pleased to see you. Our church is built from the remnants of Mexico after the great war. We seek peace and an ally in the face of Venezuelan aggression. Let us trade to ensure our mutual well-being and prosperity"
propose trade agreement
To The People's Confederacy of Dixie (@inthesomeday )
From Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras,
An old sailing yacht arrives at your shores. Its sailors bring tales of what has befallen Mexico.
"We represent the Church of Santa Muerte and are pleased to see you. Our church is built from the remnants of Mexico after the great war. We seek peace and an ally in the face of Venezuelan aggression. Let us trade to ensure our mutual well-being and prosperity"
propose trade agreement
To United States of America (@christos200)
From Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras,
An old sailing yacht arrives at your shores. Its sailors bring tales of what has befallen Mexico and the Southern United States.
"We represent the Church of Santa Muerte and are pleased to see you. Our church is built from the remnants of Mexico after the great war. We seek peace and an ally in the face of Venezuelan aggression. Let us trade to ensure our mutual well-being and prosperity"
propose trade agreement
From Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras,
An aging fishing ship, obviously battle-scarred and converted to exploration and trade arrives at your shores. They are representatives of a distant people, "We represent the Church of Santa Muerte and are pleased to see there is some civilization that remains in the north. Let us trade to ensure our mutual well-being and prosperity"
propose trade agreement
To Kaiserreich Brazilien (@tobiisagoodboy )
From Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras,
The little ship that arrives at your shores is badly damaged, listing dangerously and its occupants are clearly in need of assistance. They speak of the 'devils of Venezuela' but seem happy to see a civilization 'beyond the savages'.
"We represent the Church of Santa Muerte and are pleased to see you. Our church is built from the remnants of Mexico after the great war. We seek peace and an ally in the face of Venezuelan aggression. Let us trade to ensure our mutual well-being and prosperity"
propose trade agreement
To The People's Confederacy of Dixie (@inthesomeday )
From Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras,
An old sailing yacht arrives at your shores. Its sailors bring tales of what has befallen Mexico.
"We represent the Church of Santa Muerte and are pleased to see you. Our church is built from the remnants of Mexico after the great war. We seek peace and an ally in the face of Venezuelan aggression. Let us trade to ensure our mutual well-being and prosperity"
propose trade agreement
To United States of America (@christos200)
From Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras,
An old sailing yacht arrives at your shores. Its sailors bring tales of what has befallen Mexico and the Southern United States.
"We represent the Church of Santa Muerte and are pleased to see you. Our church is built from the remnants of Mexico after the great war. We seek peace and an ally in the face of Venezuelan aggression. Let us trade to ensure our mutual well-being and prosperity"
propose trade agreement
tobiisagoodboy
Prince
TO:Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras
From : Kaiserreich Brasilien
Seine Majestät Regierung and the Reichstag of the Kaiserreich Brasilien are more than happy to agree to the proposed trade agreement. An emissary will soon arrive at you country to formalize the agreement.
Agreed to the trade agreement.
From : Kaiserreich Brasilien
Seine Majestät Regierung and the Reichstag of the Kaiserreich Brasilien are more than happy to agree to the proposed trade agreement. An emissary will soon arrive at you country to formalize the agreement.
Agreed to the trade agreement.
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
Vacant Eyes, Restless Presence
There was a child, about my age, in the school who was convinced he was a god. Or the God. I'm not quite sure if distinctions between the two terms: a lower case and upper case God, exist anymore. In any case, he was convinced that he was a god, and that he was forced into taking human form without powers for some unknown reasons--either because of plots by other gods or as a punishment for some unknown sin.
He was an outcast. A loser, so to speak. He despised the new established curriculum of the Nachtverband, and the faculty and the student body returned the favor. Personally, I found him and his ideas quite fascinating, so I spent majority of my free time during the school days with him much to my old friends' disappointment and disapproval.
During the days we spent together, he told me about the realm of the gods, the hidden laws that governed the world, and eldritch secrets that lurked behind the ordinary facade of the Federation. Who would have thought that the yearly harvest festivals mandated by the new government in school systems involved so much arterial logistics? Or that the great machine that the Federation is constructing at the heart of the city once called Berlin functioned by logic derived from another universe? The others, the faculty and the students alike, became suspicious of my involvement with the boy, or the false god, as they called him, and his intentions with me. It all came to boil over one day when, during a mandatory meat lunch day, I found his semi-conscious body upon the school rooftop, cut with scissors and beaten by other students. The faculty did not particularly care about who the culprits may have been, and decided to bury the incident. I carried him to the medical office, where the doctor in charge did the barest minimum to required to keep him conscious and alive. Enough was enough, I declared, and asked him if there was anything I could do to help him in his predicament.
He asked me if I believed he was a god. I said yes. He asked me if I would do a favor for him. I told him yes, anything to save his life, as I was convinced that he would die if he stayed within the system as it was. He asked me to run away from the school for that day to the outside world, where we would find a place where we could be ourselves.
So we ran. We climbed over the school walls as the guards closed in. We ran past the ruined houses and stores of the cities and the sky that glowed dark without the sun. We ran past the newly erected temples to money and capital, where its priests preached to us about the sins of the past world and the necessity of keeping faith and objects of worship within the strong walls of the temple. We ran past the still functioning stores that sold baubles and junk that did nothing for us. We ran and we ran but couldn't find where we belonged, and so we came to a forest.
There was a mound of flesh and bodies in the forest. I smelled the rot before I saw them, but the boy god still lead me onward towards them. He told me that he had decided once and for all to leave this world to rejoin the others in heaven, and that the greatest sacrifice was needed to reach them. He wanted to change the federation--the world--the human race itself, but lacked the power to do so as a frail human boy. He needed to ascend. He showed me a vial. A sleeping potion, he whispered, but concentrated enough to kill several humans. He would drink one half of it, and I would drink the rest. He handed it to me first.
...
We would talk excitedly about our next lives and lie down next to each other among the stench of corpses and rotting flesh. Our souls will rise to the heavens where we would become callous gods, uncaring about the affairs of young and foolish mortals. Our bodies would be discovered by the Federal guards, who would simply write us off as another statistic and go on with their lives. The school may grieve for a day or two, but they too shall move on in time. One day, I might have listened to such an offer.
But that was not today. The boy god's calm smile faded as he noticed the hesitation on my face. "You told me you would help me," he whispered. "I'm sorry," I answered back. "But I don't want you to die."
He told me he didn't belong in this world. I told him that nobody belonged in any world, and that I didn't want him to die simply because he could not fit with the others. He told me a liar, and I replied that I was. That's how the guards found me--comforting a crying god in a forest full of bodies.
The school buried the incident too. The boy god told me to stay away from him, as the school would seek to punish him for his misbehavior somehow. As he left, I saw nothing but a defeated boy, hunched over and escorted away by two armored guards. I didn't see him again afterwards.
There was a child, about my age, in the school who was convinced he was a god. Or the God. I'm not quite sure if distinctions between the two terms: a lower case and upper case God, exist anymore. In any case, he was convinced that he was a god, and that he was forced into taking human form without powers for some unknown reasons--either because of plots by other gods or as a punishment for some unknown sin.
He was an outcast. A loser, so to speak. He despised the new established curriculum of the Nachtverband, and the faculty and the student body returned the favor. Personally, I found him and his ideas quite fascinating, so I spent majority of my free time during the school days with him much to my old friends' disappointment and disapproval.
During the days we spent together, he told me about the realm of the gods, the hidden laws that governed the world, and eldritch secrets that lurked behind the ordinary facade of the Federation. Who would have thought that the yearly harvest festivals mandated by the new government in school systems involved so much arterial logistics? Or that the great machine that the Federation is constructing at the heart of the city once called Berlin functioned by logic derived from another universe? The others, the faculty and the students alike, became suspicious of my involvement with the boy, or the false god, as they called him, and his intentions with me. It all came to boil over one day when, during a mandatory meat lunch day, I found his semi-conscious body upon the school rooftop, cut with scissors and beaten by other students. The faculty did not particularly care about who the culprits may have been, and decided to bury the incident. I carried him to the medical office, where the doctor in charge did the barest minimum to required to keep him conscious and alive. Enough was enough, I declared, and asked him if there was anything I could do to help him in his predicament.
He asked me if I believed he was a god. I said yes. He asked me if I would do a favor for him. I told him yes, anything to save his life, as I was convinced that he would die if he stayed within the system as it was. He asked me to run away from the school for that day to the outside world, where we would find a place where we could be ourselves.
So we ran. We climbed over the school walls as the guards closed in. We ran past the ruined houses and stores of the cities and the sky that glowed dark without the sun. We ran past the newly erected temples to money and capital, where its priests preached to us about the sins of the past world and the necessity of keeping faith and objects of worship within the strong walls of the temple. We ran past the still functioning stores that sold baubles and junk that did nothing for us. We ran and we ran but couldn't find where we belonged, and so we came to a forest.
There was a mound of flesh and bodies in the forest. I smelled the rot before I saw them, but the boy god still lead me onward towards them. He told me that he had decided once and for all to leave this world to rejoin the others in heaven, and that the greatest sacrifice was needed to reach them. He wanted to change the federation--the world--the human race itself, but lacked the power to do so as a frail human boy. He needed to ascend. He showed me a vial. A sleeping potion, he whispered, but concentrated enough to kill several humans. He would drink one half of it, and I would drink the rest. He handed it to me first.
...
We would talk excitedly about our next lives and lie down next to each other among the stench of corpses and rotting flesh. Our souls will rise to the heavens where we would become callous gods, uncaring about the affairs of young and foolish mortals. Our bodies would be discovered by the Federal guards, who would simply write us off as another statistic and go on with their lives. The school may grieve for a day or two, but they too shall move on in time. One day, I might have listened to such an offer.
But that was not today. The boy god's calm smile faded as he noticed the hesitation on my face. "You told me you would help me," he whispered. "I'm sorry," I answered back. "But I don't want you to die."
He told me he didn't belong in this world. I told him that nobody belonged in any world, and that I didn't want him to die simply because he could not fit with the others. He told me a liar, and I replied that I was. That's how the guards found me--comforting a crying god in a forest full of bodies.
The school buried the incident too. The boy god told me to stay away from him, as the school would seek to punish him for his misbehavior somehow. As he left, I saw nothing but a defeated boy, hunched over and escorted away by two armored guards. I didn't see him again afterwards.
Robert Can't
Éponine
12th December 1921
I spoke today with a man from England. I said in my last letter that I thought these New Zealanders were mad but then again I think we might all be slightly mad now. This man that I spoke to said some of the most strange things I've heard since arriving here. I was in his house talking about how little the locals seem to care about the great war when he told me that it wasn't just the New Zealanders. He took me into his bedroom and pulled a shoe box out from under his bed. In it wrapped in paper was one of those plates - the kind that are collectors items rather than for eating - it was a commemorative plate. What was unusual was the event which it commemorated - the coronation of Edward VII in 1902. Now I don't need to tell you this but there was no coronation in 1902, the British Empire has been under the rule of Her Eternal Majesty Victoria Regina since before most of us can remember.
At first I assumed this man was barmy, or that he had just misinterpreted the plate, or some other explanation that preserved my own sanity, but the more I think about it the more I wonder what if its all wrong? I have no idea how old VR is and neither does anyone else I know. Nobody remembers her coronation and nobody I've met has ever seen her in the flesh. What if we're living surrounded by a lie?
I saw some graffiti the other day The Queen is Dead, Long May She Reign. I have no idea what any of this means but the authorities certainly don't seem to like it, it was gone the next day. This and the man I spoke to today and a host of other things I have begun to notice are leaving me with no choice other than to accept that something is amiss. I would pursue this further if not for the fact that I am fearful for my own sanity and of what wrath the government might display if I were to uncover such a collusion.
Meanwhile I do have some good news - Gavrilo has found work in the Department of Water and Power, its a job with prospects too. He tells me he hopes to climb the ladder and transfer to the DAA as soon as possible. He's always been a dreamer and he has been speaking at length that if he plays his cards right one day he may find himself behind the desk of one of the permanent secretaries maybe even the Cabinet Secretary. I doubt he'll make it quite that far but dreams are good for him. Dreams are good for all of us - in this world after the great war we are nothing without our dreams, in many ways they are all we have left. They're an escape from the trauma - something we all need.
I hope this finds you well,
Vedran
Interdepartmental Memorandum on Her Eternal Majesty
It has recently come to the attention of the Department of Justice that a number of dissidents in the Wellington docklands have been expressing views that are to be considered most disloyal to Her Eternal Majesty. The notion that our Everlasting Sovereign has passed away and is being circulated throughout the docklands by migrants especially those coming from England. Following a search one such migrant was found to be in possession of fabricated evidence of a coronation for the Prince of Wales.
This kind of treason will not be tolerated and we ask all departments to be on the look out for dissidents arriving from the old country. New Zealand is safe and secure and we want none of the madness of Euroep coming to these shores.
Trade
Trade offer was made to us by the UK, we accept
We also offer trade to East India, Zanzibar, and the Pacific State
I spoke today with a man from England. I said in my last letter that I thought these New Zealanders were mad but then again I think we might all be slightly mad now. This man that I spoke to said some of the most strange things I've heard since arriving here. I was in his house talking about how little the locals seem to care about the great war when he told me that it wasn't just the New Zealanders. He took me into his bedroom and pulled a shoe box out from under his bed. In it wrapped in paper was one of those plates - the kind that are collectors items rather than for eating - it was a commemorative plate. What was unusual was the event which it commemorated - the coronation of Edward VII in 1902. Now I don't need to tell you this but there was no coronation in 1902, the British Empire has been under the rule of Her Eternal Majesty Victoria Regina since before most of us can remember.
At first I assumed this man was barmy, or that he had just misinterpreted the plate, or some other explanation that preserved my own sanity, but the more I think about it the more I wonder what if its all wrong? I have no idea how old VR is and neither does anyone else I know. Nobody remembers her coronation and nobody I've met has ever seen her in the flesh. What if we're living surrounded by a lie?
I saw some graffiti the other day The Queen is Dead, Long May She Reign. I have no idea what any of this means but the authorities certainly don't seem to like it, it was gone the next day. This and the man I spoke to today and a host of other things I have begun to notice are leaving me with no choice other than to accept that something is amiss. I would pursue this further if not for the fact that I am fearful for my own sanity and of what wrath the government might display if I were to uncover such a collusion.
Meanwhile I do have some good news - Gavrilo has found work in the Department of Water and Power, its a job with prospects too. He tells me he hopes to climb the ladder and transfer to the DAA as soon as possible. He's always been a dreamer and he has been speaking at length that if he plays his cards right one day he may find himself behind the desk of one of the permanent secretaries maybe even the Cabinet Secretary. I doubt he'll make it quite that far but dreams are good for him. Dreams are good for all of us - in this world after the great war we are nothing without our dreams, in many ways they are all we have left. They're an escape from the trauma - something we all need.
I hope this finds you well,
Vedran
Interdepartmental Memorandum on Her Eternal Majesty
It has recently come to the attention of the Department of Justice that a number of dissidents in the Wellington docklands have been expressing views that are to be considered most disloyal to Her Eternal Majesty. The notion that our Everlasting Sovereign has passed away and is being circulated throughout the docklands by migrants especially those coming from England. Following a search one such migrant was found to be in possession of fabricated evidence of a coronation for the Prince of Wales.
This kind of treason will not be tolerated and we ask all departments to be on the look out for dissidents arriving from the old country. New Zealand is safe and secure and we want none of the madness of Euroep coming to these shores.
Trade
Trade offer was made to us by the UK, we accept
We also offer trade to East India, Zanzibar, and the Pacific State
Traveller76
Prince
East India accepts the trade offer.
Traveller76
Prince
East India accepts the trade offer.
christos200
Never tell me the odds
From: United States of America
To: Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras
We accept your offer of trade.
To: Iglesia de Señora de las Sombras
We accept your offer of trade.
jackelgull
An aberration of nature
I would like to claim the Sokoto Caliphate
TheGryphonPrince
King
8 EP to productivity.
Bank political power.
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tobiisagoodboy
Prince
Claims:
4 EP for Military developement
4 EP Economic developement
10 Political power for trade agreement with mexico
Not much more for the moment
4 EP for Military developement
4 EP Economic developement
10 Political power for trade agreement with mexico
Not much more for the moment
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Under Jan Sierada's great leadership, Belarusian forces will liberate Kijeŭ and Pietrahrad. The economy will flourish as we invest 8 EP to increase the productivity of Belarusian industry. Long live the Republic!
To: Krakow
From: Belarus
We have no interest in liberating the Polish lands that lie to the west of us as they have already been liberated by your glorious republic. Would you be interested in a trade deal?
To: Krakow
From: Belarus
We have no interest in liberating the Polish lands that lie to the west of us as they have already been liberated by your glorious republic. Would you be interested in a trade deal?
