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Message him or talk in private somehow. Keep comments like this off the RMB.
NIGGA YOU HELPED GANG UP ON A SCIENTOLOGIST.
beep beep niqqa
We play on RMB for over 3 years. Why we should change something that simply works? Cuz newbie suggestion?
https://youtu.be/74BzSTQCl_c
The United Roman Reich and New stellaris
Kras is Conservative Confirmed.
Nah. RPing on RMB works, conservative way of govern don't.
The Ebony Coast
East South-Central Nova Glaedirsgrad - 42km North of Uudek (ESC-MJC3)
Passing from under the eaves of a great ovular tunnel that connected a network of rails, Ma’tyr breathed deep. The sweet smell of salty sea air revitalized his senses and relaxed him. Cries of sea fowl, the sound of lapping waves, and a dilapidated half-finished dock was a sobering reminder of the finite state of things. Moving further down a well-trodden path, Ma’tyr continued to survey his surroundings, stopping mid-stride as a distant memory flooded into his mind's eye.
The smell of the sea on the wind drifting through open windows, a classroom of young adults. Images displayed upon a large touch-activated holoscreen.
“What is it?” Said Arga, worry etched on his earthy-toned face.
“I remember seeing this... place.” he said, waving his free hand. “This is ‘The Ebony Coast’.”
Arga continued along the path, passing him.
“What gave it away? Surely not the basalt cliffs?” he joked.
Ma’tyr shrugged.
“From what my Father told me -- and his to he-- my family originated in this area. I thought it interesting that I should travel so far to-”
“-return to your roots?” Nakari interrupted.
The group continued walk in the open along the black, stoney beach.
“Yes, that.” he replied.
“You’re wasting your time, Ma’tyr.” she stated, stepping over a large waterlogged tree.
“How is that a waste of time?” he asked cautiously.
“Because,” she huffed. “Your family is a branch connected to a thick trunk. The chance that you’re still closely related to anyone here is slim. Hundreds of millions were killed in directly or indirectly because of the war and millions more left the country before it. Making a past connection where you have no past is redundant. You can’t unmake your foreign identity--” she continued to trail on, leaving Ma’tyr standing in place.
She’s right. he thought. I had no connections to anyone here before I arrived… but… the land is still indirectly the place of my origin.
It took some time before Nakari and Arga retraced their steps to see the group at a halt and a visibly disturbed Ma’tyr sat upon a weather smoothed rock.
Arga slung his rifle over his shoulder and knelt to meet Ma’tyr’s piercing eyes.
“Even if what Nakari said was true, you are still connected to the land and it’s people. The fact that I’m still alive is proof. You are as much a part of us as we are of you.” he said, placing a bandaged hand on his foster father’s shoulder.
“There is a Liberan philosopher, the name of he, I cannot recall… He once said ‘The whole world’s a stage, each nation an actor, every individual a prop.’. I am not of this world, not apart of this stage; yet… I am here. Things are and are not as they should be. I took solace in the cause I pledge myself to, but… ah, never mind it. Let’s continue.” he said, putting on a new face.
“Ma’tyr…” Arga said undertone.
Shooting an angry look toward a guilty-faced Nakari, Arga followed after his friend’s footsteps.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two hours later…
Coming upon a small indent, a recess into the stoney black beachside cliff, the group halted once more. At Arga’s command, they set up their fires and broke out the food. Many already gorging themselves on their rations or rubbing aching feet.
“Ma’tyr,” spoke Arga. “We should be about 30 km from Uudek now. Our contacts will be here in the morning -- if all goes well, our message will be delivered and our attack will commence as planned.”
Ma’tyr nodded lazily.
“I’ve never been so exhausted… I’m almost jealous about other species being able to fall into temporary comas -- no, sorry. I meant sleep.”
Arga laughed.
“Try to eat, have some drinks. The weariness will spill away before long, I promise you.” he said, slapping him on the back.
Instead of joining the other men and women, Ma’tyr withdrew from his pack an instrument of glossy black. It had taut, nearly invisible strings and a wand with slightly thicker strings. The whole instrument was nearly as long as his arm, but somehow he found room for it. Setting the fat bottom end in his lap, he began to play by drawing the wand across the taut strings. A melancholy whine permeated the air, silencing the laughter and casual conversations of the others. As the sounds rose and fell, a gripping feeling took hold of Ma’tyr. Sorrow took hold and spoke through the drifting notes. Like the ocean’s tides, it rose and fell in rhythm, then took a drastic turn. The whine turned to keening, as if something had been lost in the musical swells. With one last motion, the piece ended and a satisfied Ma’tyr nodded at his work, then drank deep from a steel flask.
“What was that?” Arga asked.
Ma’tyr coughed.
“That,” he said, “was the Lament of Arten. It’s a famous song among my--” he paused momentarily. “-our people.”
“Could you play it again for us?” arga asked.
“Certainly.” Ma’tyr said, his eyes glossy.
The United Roman Reich and Izusa
[b/][u/]Of Delicate Situations (Srecha rp intro) [u][b]
Saineat current seated monarch of the kingdom of Srecha arose as she normally did every morning and awaited the daily rundown of her issues and schedule from Inedra her current stewart. In the time in between Saineat took a moment or two to compose herself there had been an issue with an over reaching cousin who fancied himself the true heir to the throne of Srecha, despite his being of the wrong gender. Not that the Screchains looked down on males, it was simply the throne had always been held by a female. Risess had felt otherwise and had managed to gain a small amount of supporters, not enough to be a true threat but rebel groups who engage in guerilla warfare should be put down as quickly as possible so not to give others ideas, at least in Saineat’s view.
She had been musing upon that when Inedra slipped in nearly unnoticed as a result. Inedra moved nearly silently the result of the soft soled shoes favored by those in the court and practice for years. Saineat nearly startled as a result which was not becoming of a queen even if she had, had a short reign thus far. After the traditional respects paid to the current queen Inedra pulled out a small hand held device with a stylus and collecting her thoughts began her notes.
“You’re mostly visiting court today, there are people with grievances whom wish to speak to you. None of them seem major. The only one who might require a small amount of diplomacy is the fact Rotyv wishes to his daughter to spend some time in the capital. “ She paused. “His holdings are fairly rural and it would not hurt Sulrod to get some culture before she is wed.”
Saineat for her part nodded at that. It was typical enough to lords and ladies of the more far flung provinces to send their children for some polishing before polishing the rather cut throat world of Screhain marriage and politics. The stewart read most of the the same things before pausing.
“You will also have to make a ruling about Risees. Most of his supporters have been dealt with, however his being in the public eye will make him relevant until he can shipped off somewhere and forgotten about.” Saineat had no problem figuring out her stewart's thoughts on the matter. She ran a hand through her hair, which was not the most flattering effect for her, no matter she was not in public, at least not yet. “I will speak on it today. We will simply ship him off to a ..comfortable country home. As much as I would enjoy disposing of him in another more permanent manner I will not deal with a martyr.” It was going to be an interesting day indeed.
Mestell Hall, Masteii, Akonitos
The man who was quickly threading through the crowd of partygoers was quite oddly dressed for the fine event that he was apparently attending. While other attendees were wearing fine, soft, expensive clothes reserved for the upper echelons of society, the man wore a fine, rich cloak, but underneath, he bore the heavy powered armor unique to Sardaukur. He weaved his way to a woman wearing a very fine grey dress, and leaned over to whisper something in her ear. The woman politely disengaged herself from the conversation she was having and followed the man to a side door, which she then exited through.
“Dead certain?” she asked the man she had followed.
“Yes your grace, as of eighteen minutes ago, the state of the F.S.R is no more. As of yet, there’s been no announcement of a provisional government. Admiral Koest already gave the order for high alert, but only you can give the order for action, your grace.”
“Do it. Take the big island first, it’s got the most strategic important, and be in contact with Valyria about this, they might want some of the pie.” she explained. A heavily armored car drove up, and she got in along with the Sardaukur. “I want minute-to-minute updates on what’s going on and if they announce for a provision government I need to know immediately. Until that point, move quickly, minimize casualties and try to avoid doing anything terribly stupid.” The empress regent finished.
“Take us to Point Liross, and quickly” Elizabeth directed the driver. The vehicle sped off, taking what would soon be a very tired empress to her command post to oversee the conquest of what was once one of the planet’s great powers.
-
Point Liross, New Korendathross
The Empress pushed open the large steel-reinforced, mechanically-assisted door that was the main gateway to the Point Liross command post, a small but crucial command center buried under thirty floors of concrete which themselves were buried under the Lahara Towers administrative complex.
The Empress had changed out of her lavish dress and into a much more fitting military uniform specially designed for her, the High Commander of All Armed Forces of the Imperium. She was greeted by a chamber half-full of a late-shift skeleton crew and half-full of more important, higher-ranking officers that had rushed there when the news broke. All stood when she entered, and all returned to their work when she indicated for them to do so.
The people in the room ran about frantically from workstation to workstation, bring papers, memos, notes, force reports and other critical information from every corner of the empire to its beat heart and right back out into the world.
The Empress was directed into a small conference room in which the images of several top generals and admirals from all branches of the military were projected onto the walls of the room. She took a seat in a large leather chair and began taking reports and giving orders to the generals about what actions they should take and where to direct troops.
The reports she was being given were about aligned with what she had predicted, both Valyria and New Erim would eat up some of the F.S.R’s old lands. The Imperium would absorb large sections of the ex-nation, including one of its large islands and a group of several dozen smaller islands throughout the expanse of the ex-F.S.R. The Imperium would make by far the most significant gains but Valyria and Felkesjud would also take large parts.
Once again, the machines of empire and conquest were on the move.
Former nation Spiritualiza
Founded: Thu Oct 4 2012
Ceased to exist: Sat Oct 22 2016
Population: 8.913 billion
ladies, gentlemen, toasters and easy-bake ovens..
the day has come
I AM FINALLY THE ONLY HELGHAST NATION ON COG
HAHAHAHHAHAHsdfaigsdfmdflhdfnlkhkdfjlhdgl
Mandira Flings Another One Into Space
Paralokattil Space Launch Center, South of Mumbay, Ijzeren
James Jakason stood amidst a vast crowd, clinging to the edges of the fences bordering the launch area. In the distance, a fat, sleek, white, crayon, glistening in the evening sun, stood upon its platform, small towers rising on either side of it. It was a Daedalus class rocket, the largest in operation in Mandira, and it would carry the four brave commanders of the Magdalena to their home in space, their little tin can which would carry them all the way out to Atheria, which at this point in time was a small pinprick of light in the sky.
The murmuring of the crowd comforted him, as flashes from cameras lit up large portions of grass ahead of him.
“2 minutes to launch!” came an announcement. Fireworks were planned, but wouldn’t be launched until the ship was far out of range. Steam billowed from beneath the Daedalus. Jakason waved, grinning widely, taking a long sip out of a glass of beer from someone else. Some singing began.
“Hurrah, hurrah, for Mandira hurrah, Hurrah for our glorious home that is great Mandira!”
“Ahahaha! I brought a snare drum!” the man next to him shouted.
“What? Play it! Come one!” Jakason shouted to be heard over the singing. The man laughed cacophonously as he unpacked a snare drum the size of a dinner plate from his backpack.
Jakason shoved some crowding people out of the way to give the man space. He began drumming a military march.
Far in the distance, six jets of flame erupted from the Daedalus’ thrusters, bright blue and orange and white rings extended down below for over thirty feet. No one directly saw them, but the enormous pulse wave that fanned outwards made ears pop. Smoke billowed into a tremendous column.
Over the speakers, the song “Dreams of Heaven,” an old Monsaurnan song, written back when planes were the hot new thing, gradually rose in volume. Jakason cried with joy as the shockwave slammed into the crowd, a thunderclap echoing in the air as the Daedalus inched up into the sky.
“There they go! To the Great Expanse! To Atheria, our brave men, our brave women, go! To Atheria, carrying the dreams of near half a billion!” said the announcer. The smoke cloud exploded outwards, great swirls of yellow, orange, white mist towering into the sky as the rocket climbed higher. A cheer erupted from the crowd, waving hands smacking people.
“Godspeed Crew, long live Mandira!”
A rumbling roar rolled over them, the rocket vanishing behind its bright thrusters. The music swelled, violins sweeping and trumpets blasting, miraculously being heard over both the screaming of the crowd and the sound of the engines. Daedalus began to curve slightly, as it aimed for orbital velocity. It soared higher, higher, breaching the cloud layer and speeding faster and faster. A sonic boom banged down over the ground below, a low rumbling following soon after. The snare drum march became faster, the music beginning to taper off now. The rocket’s smoke trail began to disperse, but to Jakason’s horror, a fire appeared to be brewing on the launchpad, some definitely toxic looking black coal-like smoke roiling away lazily from the orange flame. Ah well, it wasn’t Mandira if nothing went wrong.
Post self-deleted by United nations of the public.
Hello Everyone!! Thanks For Letting Me Into Your Region! As I See, Many Of You Have Been Playing For Many Of Years. Well, I Can't Say The Same For Me, as I Have Only Started Today. But As I Continue, I Can't Stress How Thankful I Am To Be Able To Be In Here With Many Brilliant, Successful Minds In This Simulator. I Can't Stretch My Mind To Understand Why People,Such As You With GDPs Of Trillions, To Let Me In Here. Maybe You Like To Help Out? Anyways, I Have Been Going On For To Long. In My Simplest Words Of My Last Few Sentences,I Can't Wait To Explore The Limits Of This Simulation With You People! Together We May Expand,And Especially Me Being How Weak I Am,Until The Depths May Disclose. I Am Ready To Grow And Become A Great Country With The Many Great Countries That You Are!
Plans And Hopes,
The Democratic States Of United Nations Of The Public
I'm Not Saying It's Irritating, But The Every Word Capitalized Format Is A Bit Odd To Read.
Vanhania, Kraslavia, Felkesjud, Greater mandira, and 1 otherStiigara
Ah, I see, force of habit really, most of the forums I'm used to that's how you format bold and whatever else. Thanks.
There is one, ask a leader to see one.
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