TheNoob
Dank Memes
Is this good? Did I write too much, or did I do just the right amount?
[RoM-AND] The Commune of the Czar
- Thread starter TheNoob
- Start date
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
I think it's fine the way it is.
TheNoob
Dank Memes
I am so sorry to all those that speak German I put "gruß dich" instead of "grüß dich" I am ashamed
Imperator Knoedel
Currently obsessed with The Owl House
Erm... Is it me or aren't there any screenshots whatsoever?
TheNoob
Dank Memes
It's just you
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
I can see them.
Imperator Knoedel
Currently obsessed with The Owl House
Yeah it was really me, I can see them just fine on the iPad weirdly enough.
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
That is very weird 
and backwards
and backwards
TheNoob
Dank Memes
I'll try my hardest to get an update out Monday
TheNoob
Dank Memes
Unfortunately, I don't have the time to write today because I was given 60 questions of geometry (thanks) and I had to drive ~4 hours to get my glasses. On the other hand, I was able to play the game, so tomorrow I only need to write and not play.
TheNoob
Dank Memes
глава 4
Aleksandr, Igor, and Ivan all continued to explore the land that Peter ordered them to. They've been away from home for a while, and they wish that they had a chance to see Moscow grow into a powerful city once more. Unfortunately, they were out making maps of rivers, forests, and jungles. Aleksandr was getting tired of this, and Igor wasn't exactly too enthusiastic about it anymore, either. Ivan, on the other hand, would do what he was told, and would not retire from his job of scouting until every single plot of land on this continent was mapped; he apparently didn't age, so he had no reason to become impatient.
One day, Aleksandr finally snapped.
"I can't take this anymore! This life of just walking between trees and water is terrible! Why can't we just head back to Moscow and enjoy our lives!?" Aleksandr yelled one day out of frustration. The three men had camped out next to a river that had an abundance of berries growing near, and edible fauna as well. Igor looked at Aleksandr.
"I say I have to agree, Aleskandr," Igor told him. He munched from his wooden bowl of berries, "but, we haven't even really mapped out a lot of land. We can't become tired of this now."
Aleksandr scoffed.
"And you think we need to keep going until we have mapped every single rock and stick that this continent has to offer?" Aleksandr asked. Ivan then came out of their makeshift shelter.
"Yes, I do," Ivan told him, "we were told to map out this land, and I will do so until it is done. I don't expect to map every single mineral, but if you want to, then be my guest."
"How would Peter know if we haven't explored?" Aleksandr asked, "we can just head back home and hire some other people to go out and take our place!"
"Aleksandr, you know that wouldn't work; Peter tasked us specifically. I admit, I want to go home too, but we can't just quit now," Igor piped up.
This argument had indeed caused quite a bit of a ruckus, and there were some stags that weren't too happy with that. It must have been the official time for no ruckuses in the stag world. As the men continued arguing, three stags emerged from a nearby jungle. None of the three men saw them. Aleksandr was pulling his hair out of frustration, Ivan's face was red out of anger, and Igor was trying to be the median force.
"Both of you, shut up!" yelled Igor, getting the attention of the two men, "stop fighting already! We're not heading back to Moscow, whether you want to or not! I'll be dead in the cold hard ground before I-"
Before Igor could finish his sentence, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach and he looked down, seeing an antler pierced through his chest, and his blood pooling before his feet on the ground.
"Oh my God, what's happened to me?" Igor asked, staring at the antler. He then realized he was being lifted into the air, "help me! Help me! I don't want to die!" Aleksandr and Ivan ran in front of the stag that held Igor, knives out.
"We'll get you off of it, Igor!" Ivan told him. Igor whimpered in pain, and screamed out as he fell deeper. After this, a blissful and amazed look fell on Igor, and he smiled greatly.
"Я один с Богом," he stated, "I am one with God."
Aleksandr and Ivan killed the other stags, angry that they killed one of their brethren. However as the stags were defeated, and the two ran to help Igor, they found him dead.
Back in Moscow, things were more happy.
Peter had the responsibility of appointing members of a council of elders to help him rule the city of Moscow. The people of the city wanted a building where stories could be passed down, and where there ideas could be conferred to the elders, and in turn to Peter. This council helped tie together the relationship between Peter and the people.
However, laws were not the only reason that this council was created; culture was also an important part of this group of people. Elders could be sent out to various parts of the city to inform the young of the history of Moscow, and of stories and traditions that have been passed down from them and their forefathers. The council building itself could also be used as a meeting place where the civil parts of weddings could be held, and where feasts were held.
Surprisingly, not a lot of wrong happened in this place; everyone had respected the fact that this was built for the good and betterment of the people, and it was only used to have fun, build strong and happy connections, and to make memories that could be passed down. The worst thing that happened in this building was Peter accidentally stubbing his toe on the large wooden table where the elders gathered, but it was nothing too serious. Peter and his toe were not happy, but the elders sure did quite a chuckle out of it.
People then wanted another place to meet up and share tales and stories, so a large fire pit was made on the south side of Moscow that overlooked the bay formed by two of the branches of the peninsula that Moscow found itself on. Peter was starting to think about naming this sea, and he would get around to that, however he needed ideas. Maybe the elder council could help him decide?
At the fire pit, many drinks were shared and many tales and stories were exchanged. Moscow appeared to be in a happy point of its life, and Peter had no problem with that. The city had many new buildings to boast, but then he got to thinking. Wait a minute, I am supposed to be rebuilding my empire. I used to own the greatest nation in the world, and I have been reduced to one measly city? No more! A settler shall be trained, and a new city shall be founded!
A settler had not yet been trained in the New USSR, so it would take a while to get the supplies and train the people to form another small city. This would also take longer because of Moscow's small and meek population, but Peter did not that damper his mood nor slow him down.
The people now started to turn their eyes to the bay that Moscow overlooked. There ought to be something in there that they could eat. I mean, what's the point of having all this water if there isn't anything that tastes good in it? Therefore, the people practiced a thing called "fishing" where people would grab sharpened wooden sticks and hopefully spear a "fish" in the water.
This opened many more pathways in the world of cooking and even military. The economy also sustained a small boost, as more industry was created where boats would be sent out, and fish and other organisms in the water harvested to bring back to Moscow. Many more dishes were created with the local herbs, spices, and fish, and culture grew. Military technicians looked at the fish and studied their scales. Surely it would be a good idea to make armor with scales? That would be a good idea.
Peter almost had to laugh at the people being so happy and surprised at eating and finding fish; it was such a simple thing, and they seemed so happy to discover it. He almost wanted to tell them what he had back in the World of Olde, but he didn't for two reasons. One: he knew they wouldn't believe him. Two: he had an odd feeling that if they did believe him or tell them, then something terrible would happen, and that the results would be catastrophic.
All Peter did was bite his tongue and enjoy the cuisine.
Aleksandr, Igor, and Ivan all continued to explore the land that Peter ordered them to. They've been away from home for a while, and they wish that they had a chance to see Moscow grow into a powerful city once more. Unfortunately, they were out making maps of rivers, forests, and jungles. Aleksandr was getting tired of this, and Igor wasn't exactly too enthusiastic about it anymore, either. Ivan, on the other hand, would do what he was told, and would not retire from his job of scouting until every single plot of land on this continent was mapped; he apparently didn't age, so he had no reason to become impatient.
One day, Aleksandr finally snapped.
"I can't take this anymore! This life of just walking between trees and water is terrible! Why can't we just head back to Moscow and enjoy our lives!?" Aleksandr yelled one day out of frustration. The three men had camped out next to a river that had an abundance of berries growing near, and edible fauna as well. Igor looked at Aleksandr.
"I say I have to agree, Aleskandr," Igor told him. He munched from his wooden bowl of berries, "but, we haven't even really mapped out a lot of land. We can't become tired of this now."
Aleksandr scoffed.
"And you think we need to keep going until we have mapped every single rock and stick that this continent has to offer?" Aleksandr asked. Ivan then came out of their makeshift shelter.
"Yes, I do," Ivan told him, "we were told to map out this land, and I will do so until it is done. I don't expect to map every single mineral, but if you want to, then be my guest."
"How would Peter know if we haven't explored?" Aleksandr asked, "we can just head back home and hire some other people to go out and take our place!"
"Aleksandr, you know that wouldn't work; Peter tasked us specifically. I admit, I want to go home too, but we can't just quit now," Igor piped up.
This argument had indeed caused quite a bit of a ruckus, and there were some stags that weren't too happy with that. It must have been the official time for no ruckuses in the stag world. As the men continued arguing, three stags emerged from a nearby jungle. None of the three men saw them. Aleksandr was pulling his hair out of frustration, Ivan's face was red out of anger, and Igor was trying to be the median force.
"Both of you, shut up!" yelled Igor, getting the attention of the two men, "stop fighting already! We're not heading back to Moscow, whether you want to or not! I'll be dead in the cold hard ground before I-"
Before Igor could finish his sentence, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach and he looked down, seeing an antler pierced through his chest, and his blood pooling before his feet on the ground.
"Oh my God, what's happened to me?" Igor asked, staring at the antler. He then realized he was being lifted into the air, "help me! Help me! I don't want to die!" Aleksandr and Ivan ran in front of the stag that held Igor, knives out.
"We'll get you off of it, Igor!" Ivan told him. Igor whimpered in pain, and screamed out as he fell deeper. After this, a blissful and amazed look fell on Igor, and he smiled greatly.
"Я один с Богом," he stated, "I am one with God."
Aleksandr and Ivan killed the other stags, angry that they killed one of their brethren. However as the stags were defeated, and the two ran to help Igor, they found him dead.
Back in Moscow, things were more happy.
Peter had the responsibility of appointing members of a council of elders to help him rule the city of Moscow. The people of the city wanted a building where stories could be passed down, and where there ideas could be conferred to the elders, and in turn to Peter. This council helped tie together the relationship between Peter and the people.
However, laws were not the only reason that this council was created; culture was also an important part of this group of people. Elders could be sent out to various parts of the city to inform the young of the history of Moscow, and of stories and traditions that have been passed down from them and their forefathers. The council building itself could also be used as a meeting place where the civil parts of weddings could be held, and where feasts were held.
Surprisingly, not a lot of wrong happened in this place; everyone had respected the fact that this was built for the good and betterment of the people, and it was only used to have fun, build strong and happy connections, and to make memories that could be passed down. The worst thing that happened in this building was Peter accidentally stubbing his toe on the large wooden table where the elders gathered, but it was nothing too serious. Peter and his toe were not happy, but the elders sure did quite a chuckle out of it.
People then wanted another place to meet up and share tales and stories, so a large fire pit was made on the south side of Moscow that overlooked the bay formed by two of the branches of the peninsula that Moscow found itself on. Peter was starting to think about naming this sea, and he would get around to that, however he needed ideas. Maybe the elder council could help him decide?
At the fire pit, many drinks were shared and many tales and stories were exchanged. Moscow appeared to be in a happy point of its life, and Peter had no problem with that. The city had many new buildings to boast, but then he got to thinking. Wait a minute, I am supposed to be rebuilding my empire. I used to own the greatest nation in the world, and I have been reduced to one measly city? No more! A settler shall be trained, and a new city shall be founded!
A settler had not yet been trained in the New USSR, so it would take a while to get the supplies and train the people to form another small city. This would also take longer because of Moscow's small and meek population, but Peter did not that damper his mood nor slow him down.
The people now started to turn their eyes to the bay that Moscow overlooked. There ought to be something in there that they could eat. I mean, what's the point of having all this water if there isn't anything that tastes good in it? Therefore, the people practiced a thing called "fishing" where people would grab sharpened wooden sticks and hopefully spear a "fish" in the water.
This opened many more pathways in the world of cooking and even military. The economy also sustained a small boost, as more industry was created where boats would be sent out, and fish and other organisms in the water harvested to bring back to Moscow. Many more dishes were created with the local herbs, spices, and fish, and culture grew. Military technicians looked at the fish and studied their scales. Surely it would be a good idea to make armor with scales? That would be a good idea.
Peter almost had to laugh at the people being so happy and surprised at eating and finding fish; it was such a simple thing, and they seemed so happy to discover it. He almost wanted to tell them what he had back in the World of Olde, but he didn't for two reasons. One: he knew they wouldn't believe him. Two: he had an odd feeling that if they did believe him or tell them, then something terrible would happen, and that the results would be catastrophic.
All Peter did was bite his tongue and enjoy the cuisine.
TheNoob
Dank Memes
I am asking for names of the Bay and Sea to the south of Moscow. What do you all think?
The bay is rich in clam, thus it can be called after clam, so "clamya bay" and "clamya sea".
Some Moscowians would like to name it after Moskva itsself, thus "Muscowa bay" and "Muscowa sea", others are satisfied with a geographical term, thus "southya bay" and "southya sea".
However, it can be named after a mythical hero, like "posidoniya bay" and "posidoniya sea", but posidonin is the god of all sea, not just the south. Maybe Tritonov, Posidonin's son, thus "Tritonova bay" and "Tritonova sea".
However, my personal favourite is "mera citikova", after the person who tries to find a name.
Some Moscowians would like to name it after Moskva itsself, thus "Muscowa bay" and "Muscowa sea", others are satisfied with a geographical term, thus "southya bay" and "southya sea".
However, it can be named after a mythical hero, like "posidoniya bay" and "posidoniya sea", but posidonin is the god of all sea, not just the south. Maybe Tritonov, Posidonin's son, thus "Tritonova bay" and "Tritonova sea".
However, my personal favourite is "mera citikova", after the person who tries to find a name.
Manuss
Sleeping man
I'm sure Peter is egocentric enough to name it Peter's bay.
Since in russian "clam" is translated as "sea mollusc", "Clam bay" becomes "Залив (Морских
Моллюсков", i.e. "Bay of the (Sea) Molluscs" [zaliv (morskih) mollyuskov].
Ситисов Залив is also a good name (Citis' Bay). [sitisov zaliv]
Моллюсков", i.e. "Bay of the (Sea) Molluscs" [zaliv (morskih) mollyuskov].Ситисов Залив is also a good name (Citis' Bay). [sitisov zaliv]
TheNoob
Dank Memes
I really should write again soon.
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
I concur, but only if you want to.
TheNoob
Dank Memes
глава 5
Ivan and Aleksandr did not speak much after what happened to Igor. Igor was more than a friend to them; he was family. It would have been not as bad if Igor wasn't from the World of Olde, but he had survived so long in this new world where no one yet understands that really hit home.
Relating to other topics, Ivan and Aleksandr had not seen Libra and the others recently; they must be off in a better place than here. This disappointed the men as they expected their odd story to be something so much more than it was, but what they thought isn't necessarily true. Perhaps they would meet them again? The world would find out.
However, let us talk about their expedition. As the two Russians continued traveling, they found the Iroquois. Unlike many of the other nations they had met, the Iroquois were not people the Russians were familiar with. Their numbers had diminished dramatically after the colonization of the Americas. Aleksandr studied one of the men as he approached, carefully watching him as he raised his right hand in greeting.
Aleksandr responded by lifting his own right hand. Ivan did not at first, but Aleksandr gave him a rough nudge in the ribs, causing Ivan to get the message and raise his right hand.
"Greetings, I suspect you are the Soviet Russians," the man started. Ivan nodded.
"Indeed we are, but we do not know of you. Who are you?" Ivan asked. The Iroquois man chuckled.
"Not too many know of us anymore. We've been reduced to so few, but now we've been given the chance to rise again! We are the Iroquois," the man responded, "but if you must know, my name is Deganawida." Ivan nodded.
"If you would tell us where your capital is, we will send word to Moskva for emissaries to travel there and begin relations. That is, if you are willing to be at peace," said Ivan. Deganawida nodded. Aleksandr clapped.
"Great business everyone. We will be on our way, then."
Ivan and Aleksandr's travels have been recently marked with new meetings with other civilizations. They didn't know how much longer it would last; they were honestly quite tired of having to repeat themselves over and over and sending messages to Moskva in order to send more emissaries. It is what it is.
Ivan and Aleksandr were still exploring the jungles and forests of the landmass they were currently on (which has not yet been named), when they heard a loud trumpet and singing. The two looked at each other, exchanging thoughts of "what now?" It was either the sound of an extremely vain leader of another civilization coming to greet them, or an extremely sick elephant.
I am putting my money on the elephant, but I am known for my lack of prowess when it comes to gambling. Ah, speak of the devil! As the trees in front of Ivan and Aleksandr were cut down, they turned to see two slaves moving out of the way for four more slaves carrying a carriage made entirely out of gold and other lavish accessories. Flags were waving, trumpets were playing, and songs of praise were sung.
The Russians raised their eyebrows, both confused and intrigued, and looked into the carriage to see what was so special. What they saw was no sick elephant, but a man who looked like one. This man was Suppiluliuma, leader of the Hittites, an ancient civilization located in Anatolia that mainly stemmed from ancient Indo-European travelers.
Unlike the Iroquois, the Russians knew that the Hittites were no longer a civilization, so this one was a head-scratcher. The trumpeting and singing stopped, and the two tree-cutting slaves pulled down a set of shining golden stairs so that Suppiluliuma could walk to the ground to meet with Ivan and Aleksandr. The two stood in awe and pity looking at the man. Why pity you ask? Well, if you took one look at our friend Suppi, you'd understand.
Only a mother could love that face.
"We are the Hittites, greatest of the civili-" started Suppi, preparing to start a monologue of the ages. Aleksandr waved his hand in dismissal.
"Yeah, yeah, just tell us where your capital is and we'll send emissaries your way."
(I know this is shorter than other chapters, but I do not have the mind to write at the current moment. I just wanted to pitch some of my writing here; no one else is really doing it)
Ivan and Aleksandr did not speak much after what happened to Igor. Igor was more than a friend to them; he was family. It would have been not as bad if Igor wasn't from the World of Olde, but he had survived so long in this new world where no one yet understands that really hit home.
Relating to other topics, Ivan and Aleksandr had not seen Libra and the others recently; they must be off in a better place than here. This disappointed the men as they expected their odd story to be something so much more than it was, but what they thought isn't necessarily true. Perhaps they would meet them again? The world would find out.
However, let us talk about their expedition. As the two Russians continued traveling, they found the Iroquois. Unlike many of the other nations they had met, the Iroquois were not people the Russians were familiar with. Their numbers had diminished dramatically after the colonization of the Americas. Aleksandr studied one of the men as he approached, carefully watching him as he raised his right hand in greeting.
Aleksandr responded by lifting his own right hand. Ivan did not at first, but Aleksandr gave him a rough nudge in the ribs, causing Ivan to get the message and raise his right hand.
"Greetings, I suspect you are the Soviet Russians," the man started. Ivan nodded.
"Indeed we are, but we do not know of you. Who are you?" Ivan asked. The Iroquois man chuckled.
"Not too many know of us anymore. We've been reduced to so few, but now we've been given the chance to rise again! We are the Iroquois," the man responded, "but if you must know, my name is Deganawida." Ivan nodded.
"If you would tell us where your capital is, we will send word to Moskva for emissaries to travel there and begin relations. That is, if you are willing to be at peace," said Ivan. Deganawida nodded. Aleksandr clapped.
"Great business everyone. We will be on our way, then."
Ivan and Aleksandr's travels have been recently marked with new meetings with other civilizations. They didn't know how much longer it would last; they were honestly quite tired of having to repeat themselves over and over and sending messages to Moskva in order to send more emissaries. It is what it is.
Ivan and Aleksandr were still exploring the jungles and forests of the landmass they were currently on (which has not yet been named), when they heard a loud trumpet and singing. The two looked at each other, exchanging thoughts of "what now?" It was either the sound of an extremely vain leader of another civilization coming to greet them, or an extremely sick elephant.
I am putting my money on the elephant, but I am known for my lack of prowess when it comes to gambling. Ah, speak of the devil! As the trees in front of Ivan and Aleksandr were cut down, they turned to see two slaves moving out of the way for four more slaves carrying a carriage made entirely out of gold and other lavish accessories. Flags were waving, trumpets were playing, and songs of praise were sung.
The Russians raised their eyebrows, both confused and intrigued, and looked into the carriage to see what was so special. What they saw was no sick elephant, but a man who looked like one. This man was Suppiluliuma, leader of the Hittites, an ancient civilization located in Anatolia that mainly stemmed from ancient Indo-European travelers.
Unlike the Iroquois, the Russians knew that the Hittites were no longer a civilization, so this one was a head-scratcher. The trumpeting and singing stopped, and the two tree-cutting slaves pulled down a set of shining golden stairs so that Suppiluliuma could walk to the ground to meet with Ivan and Aleksandr. The two stood in awe and pity looking at the man. Why pity you ask? Well, if you took one look at our friend Suppi, you'd understand.
Only a mother could love that face.
"We are the Hittites, greatest of the civili-" started Suppi, preparing to start a monologue of the ages. Aleksandr waved his hand in dismissal.
"Yeah, yeah, just tell us where your capital is and we'll send emissaries your way."
(I know this is shorter than other chapters, but I do not have the mind to write at the current moment. I just wanted to pitch some of my writing here; no one else is really doing it)
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