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«12. . .4,2274,2284,2294,2304,2314,2324,233. . .8,7278,728»

French roman republic

Delta Vega IV wrote:Lady Morganth of Bundesheim, our President and Secretary of State, promptly dispatches her special envoy and Ambassador Extraordinaire, C3 PQ-2, to Kosernia for Diplomatic negotiations.

While RTX 37JR and C3 PQ-2 require no liquid beverage for sustenance, Lady Morganth will appreciate a hot cup of Tea.

numbers and random letters

Guiness Freaks wrote:Yall gonna end up on the naughty list

it wasn't my fault

French roman republic wrote:numbers and random letters
it wasn't my fault

That's what they all say. A likely excuse. Take em away bad cop.

French roman republic

The clone republic-

hi

Delta Vega IV and French roman republic

French roman republic

Guiness Freaks wrote:That's what they all say. A likely excuse. Take em away bad cop.

ok think about this, I'm 13, I love history, idk how to even do the code bricks, but I hack the Kahhot? doesn't add up. (and yes I am under oath)

French roman republic wrote:ok think about this, I'm 13, I love history, idk how to even do the code bricks, but I hack the Kahhot? doesn't add up. (and yes I am under oath)

Looks at obviously fake ID under black light. I don't know. Their story doesn't seem to add up. And so close to Christmas too. I'd hate to see you on the naughty list. Maybe you should give some money to some elf orphanages or something to you know hedge yer bets.

Treadwellia and French roman republic

French roman republic

Guiness Freaks wrote:Looks at obviously fake ID under black light. I don't know. Their story doesn't seem to add up. And so close to Christmas too. I'd hate to see you on the naughty list. Maybe you should give some money to some elf orphanages or something to you know hedge yer bets.

ID? also I donated 100k to a elf orphanage in your name

Glorious society

Every Societian should be lifted out of poverty so they can afford a television and watch non-Compact members get GLASSED

Glorious society wrote:Every Societian should be lifted out of poverty so they can afford a television and watch non-Compact members get GLASSED

Speaking of,

Booms led to whistles, and the whistling led to impact.
“Блять!”
The attack had caught the government and townspeople completely unaware. Thousands of CFOB troops, indistinguishable from Federal troops, sat on the periphery of the capital city and blocked all exits or entries from its roads. Twisted steel and rubble marked where their blockade would stop all trains.
“Go! Get out!”
The barrage had originally targeted Fort Potemkin, the nearby military base, and the acres upon acres of Capitol Complex, but as the garrison of the Fort organized and diffused into the city, the strikes had been less discriminating.
“Start the car, now! Hurry!”
The outskirts of the city, with its views from apartment complexes, had become preferred positions of the city’s defenders and subsequently targets for mortars, underbarrel grenades, and larger guns. Small excursions by the Federal troops, mostly by small groups of infantry, were whittled down before they could get very far away from the safety of cover. The smoke spread from the center of the city to the outer edges.
“Where to?”
“Does it блядь matter? Out!”
The hum and roar of distant aircraft could be heard, but their engines were still to the distance and were far from visible range. Meanwhile, apart from the artillery, rifle fire seemed to emanate from every corner of the city, as skirmishes and distanced firefights began sporadically. However, over the barrage of sounds, few could pick out the grumble of a civilian automobile’s engines as it kicked to life, pulling from the side of Remezov Street and rolling down the road, a passenger’s door asunder.

Nikita Kazakov slammed the sleek black car’s door shut and fitted the seatbelt around him. With a hand on the back of the driver’s seat, he whitened his knuckles giving directions to the driver. The driver’s hat was askew and his posture suggested he was caught unprepared, allowing only his eyes to peep above the hood.

“Out-- to the municipal airport!” Nikita ordered, frantically batting the headrest.

Meters ahead of the vehicle, the roof of an embassy suddenly broke apart in a flash of fire and limestone, turning the well-defined lines of the architecture into smithereens.

“They’re bombing the embassies! The bastards!”

The driver swerved left to barely evade the roll of a fallen piece of rubble before returning back on track in their mad dash through the beleaguered city.

Through New Krasnoyarsk, Kazakov saw passing glimpses of red-faced factory laborers on the sidewalk, clutching their ears as the next shell passed overhead; children being led by dismayed teachers to shelters in nice, clean lines; disoriented soldiers laden with machine guns, sandbags, and mortars rushing between alleyway and alleyway, glancing up as if expecting to see the enemy itself lob explosives at them from the rooftops. The car managed to turn off Remezov Street, and the tighter avenue greeted them with a fireteam of soldiers with vests chock full of ammunition, the leader of the group’s posture indicating Stop.

“Civilians are to report to shelters,” demanded a Mladshy Uryadnik as soon as the window was rolled down. Kazakov pushed his way into sight of the soldier between the window and the driver’s seat and immediately began to gripe.

“I’m Nikita Kazakov-- soldier, I’m a damn Chairman! Let us through!” But the soldier did not particularly react to the apparent pulling of rank.

“Get out of the car-- we can’t allow you to pass any further.”

“Проклятий fool!” Cursed Kazakov under his breath, unbelting himself as two more soldiers walked alongside the car. “I need access to the airport immediately-- oh, I’ll have you discharged!”

“Of course you will, sir.” Said the jaded young officer, adjusting his rifle and pointing down the street. “Get to your shelter.”

Kazakov, wincing as a nearby explosion resonated in his bones, clenched his fists and slowly turned to follow their directions. As the driver followed suit close behind him, Kazakov spat on the sidewalk. He would have to wait this out.

So, if you think you had an embassy with me or would think it natural… let’s hope your insurance covers civil wars.

Aigania, Delta Vega IV, Glorious society, Dernel, and 1 otherFrench roman republic

Glorious society

Cossack Peoples wrote:Speaking of,
Booms led to whistles, and the whistling led to impact.
“Блять!”
The attack had caught the government and townspeople completely unaware. Thousands of CFOB troops, indistinguishable from Federal troops, sat on the periphery of the capital city and blocked all exits or entries from its roads. Twisted steel and rubble marked where their blockade would stop all trains.
“Go! Get out!”
The barrage had originally targeted Fort Potemkin, the nearby military base, and the acres upon acres of Capitol Complex, but as the garrison of the Fort organized and diffused into the city, the strikes had been less discriminating.
“Start the car, now! Hurry!”
The outskirts of the city, with its views from apartment complexes, had become preferred positions of the city’s defenders and subsequently targets for mortars, underbarrel grenades, and larger guns. Small excursions by the Federal troops, mostly by small groups of infantry, were whittled down before they could get very far away from the safety of cover. The smoke spread from the center of the city to the outer edges.
“Where to?”
“Does it блядь matter? Out!”
The hum and roar of distant aircraft could be heard, but their engines were still to the distance and were far from visible range. Meanwhile, apart from the artillery, rifle fire seemed to emanate from every corner of the city, as skirmishes and distanced firefights began sporadically. However, over the barrage of sounds, few could pick out the grumble of a civilian automobile’s engines as it kicked to life, pulling from the side of Remezov Street and rolling down the road, a passenger’s door asunder.

Nikita Kazakov slammed the sleek black car’s door shut and fitted the seatbelt around him. With a hand on the back of the driver’s seat, he whitened his knuckles giving directions to the driver. The driver’s hat was askew and his posture suggested he was caught unprepared, allowing only his eyes to peep above the hood.

“Out-- to the municipal airport!” Nikita ordered, frantically batting the headrest.

Meters ahead of the vehicle, the roof of an embassy suddenly broke apart in a flash of fire and limestone, turning the well-defined lines of the architecture into smithereens.

“They’re bombing the embassies! The bastards!”

The driver swerved left to barely evade the roll of a fallen piece of rubble before returning back on track in their mad dash through the beleaguered city.

Through New Krasnoyarsk, Kazakov saw passing glimpses of red-faced factory laborers on the sidewalk, clutching their ears as the next shell passed overhead; children being led by dismayed teachers to shelters in nice, clean lines; disoriented soldiers laden with machine guns, sandbags, and mortars rushing between alleyway and alleyway, glancing up as if expecting to see the enemy itself lob explosives at them from the rooftops. The car managed to turn off Remezov Street, and the tighter avenue greeted them with a fireteam of soldiers with vests chock full of ammunition, the leader of the group’s posture indicating Stop.

“Civilians are to report to shelters,” demanded a Mladshy Uryadnik as soon as the window was rolled down. Kazakov pushed his way into sight of the soldier between the window and the driver’s seat and immediately began to gripe.

“I’m Nikita Kazakov-- soldier, I’m a damn Chairman! Let us through!” But the soldier did not particularly react to the apparent pulling of rank.

“Get out of the car-- we can’t allow you to pass any further.”

“Проклятий fool!” Cursed Kazakov under his breath, unbelting himself as two more soldiers walked alongside the car. “I need access to the airport immediately-- oh, I’ll have you discharged!”

“Of course you will, sir.” Said the jaded young officer, adjusting his rifle and pointing down the street. “Get to your shelter.”

Kazakov, wincing as a nearby explosion resonated in his bones, clenched his fists and slowly turned to follow their directions. As the driver followed suit close behind him, Kazakov spat on the sidewalk. He would have to wait this out.

So, if you think you had an embassy with me or would think it natural… let’s hope your insurance covers civil wars.

phew Thank goodness that I've committed multiple accounts of international fraud to cover that rebuilding

Tubbius and Mrs. Tubbius are watching Tubbformers, which is a fascinating 1980s cartoon starring Tubbian robots battling for supremacy of Treadwellia.

Delta Vega IV, Guiness Freaks, and French roman republic

Delta Vega IV wrote:While RTX 37JR and C3 PQ-2 require no liquid beverage for sustenance, Lady Morganth will appreciate a hot cup of Tea.

Excellent!

Doppio Giudici wrote:Made more progress, more and more nations are adopting the new helmets, how has your trading been?

Trade has been booming as usual. Mzeusian ports are doing very well.

Doppio Giudici, Delta Vega IV, Treadwellia, and French roman republic

French roman republic wrote:numbers and random letters

Our names are Inigo Montoya the 21st, the 22nd, & the 23rd. You have insulted the names of our glorious leaders. Prepare to dye! [pun intended]

The clone republic- wrote:hi

Welcome to Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazarusssss

Treadwellia, Guiness Freaks, and French roman republic

French roman republic wrote:ID? also I donated 100k to a elf orphanage in your name

Thank you my dude. the elves appreciate your generosity. That's the way to buy yourself back on the nice list. Best to stay on it for now. Father Christmas is watching.

French roman republic

Treadwellia wrote:The Royal Rotundities awake to the faintest tingling of Tubbius Magic beginning to build up in Their tummies. Time is closing in on Thanksgiving and then Christmas. This is when Their powers are at their peaks, and it is usually accompanied by at least one body-ballooning Tubbius Magic Surge. His Immensity takes a moment to warn Their tailors this morning.

As of dawn, this faintest tingling of Tubbius Magic was a pleasant rippling feeling washing through the Chubby Clauses and brightening Their complexions with a tiny bit of golden light to go with the natural ruddiness. The Royal Rotundities were beginning to feel the first pangs of a hunger more demanding than usual as all around Treadwellia Their descendants are preparing for this upcoming week of Thanksgiving with grocery purchases and grateful prayers to The Two Tubbies.

By eight in the morning, this pleasant rippling has become a flush of warmth illuminating the Immensities with light, heat, and sweat. As They settle in to the hot tub for the usual shared morning bath, The Ravenous Roly-Polies can focus only on filling Their bellies with what is already Fifth Breakfast. Beside the bathtub, Dr. Biggenbottom-Tubbius mmphs his huffy observation: with this Tubbius Magic Surge brought on by an exceptionally devout family of Treadwellians, Poppa and Momma Tubbius are likely to just balloon right past Their seventeenth Tubbs.

How far past is anyone's guess.

Guiness Freaks and French roman republic

Delta Vega IV wrote:Welcome to Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazarusssss

Hi there, you got the a in your keyboard stuck.
Those pesky keyboards. Perhaps we should just dictate to scribes on clay tablets?

Treadwellia and French roman republic

French roman republic

Delta Vega IV wrote:Hi there, you got the a in your keyboard stuck.
Those pesky keyboards. Perhaps we should just dictate to scribes on clay tablets?

I agree

French roman republic wrote:I agree

But the subtleties of MMPH do not translate well from clay.

Delta Vega IV, Guiness Freaks, Winner909098, and French roman republic

Cossack Peoples wrote:Speaking of,
Booms led to whistles, and the whistling led to impact.
“Блять!”
The attack had caught the government and townspeople completely unaware. Thousands of CFOB troops, indistinguishable from Federal troops, sat on the periphery of the capital city and blocked all exits or entries from its roads. Twisted steel and rubble marked where their blockade would stop all trains.
“Go! Get out!”
The barrage had originally targeted Fort Potemkin, the nearby military base, and the acres upon acres of Capitol Complex, but as the garrison of the Fort organized and diffused into the city, the strikes had been less discriminating.
“Start the car, now! Hurry!”
The outskirts of the city, with its views from apartment complexes, had become preferred positions of the city’s defenders and subsequently targets for mortars, underbarrel grenades, and larger guns. Small excursions by the Federal troops, mostly by small groups of infantry, were whittled down before they could get very far away from the safety of cover. The smoke spread from the center of the city to the outer edges.
“Where to?”
“Does it блядь matter? Out!”
The hum and roar of distant aircraft could be heard, but their engines were still to the distance and were far from visible range. Meanwhile, apart from the artillery, rifle fire seemed to emanate from every corner of the city, as skirmishes and distanced firefights began sporadically. However, over the barrage of sounds, few could pick out the grumble of a civilian automobile’s engines as it kicked to life, pulling from the side of Remezov Street and rolling down the road, a passenger’s door asunder.

Nikita Kazakov slammed the sleek black car’s door shut and fitted the seatbelt around him. With a hand on the back of the driver’s seat, he whitened his knuckles giving directions to the driver. The driver’s hat was askew and his posture suggested he was caught unprepared, allowing only his eyes to peep above the hood.

“Out-- to the municipal airport!” Nikita ordered, frantically batting the headrest.

Meters ahead of the vehicle, the roof of an embassy suddenly broke apart in a flash of fire and limestone, turning the well-defined lines of the architecture into smithereens.

“They’re bombing the embassies! The bastards!”

The driver swerved left to barely evade the roll of a fallen piece of rubble before returning back on track in their mad dash through the beleaguered city.

Through New Krasnoyarsk, Kazakov saw passing glimpses of red-faced factory laborers on the sidewalk, clutching their ears as the next shell passed overhead; children being led by dismayed teachers to shelters in nice, clean lines; disoriented soldiers laden with machine guns, sandbags, and mortars rushing between alleyway and alleyway, glancing up as if expecting to see the enemy itself lob explosives at them from the rooftops. The car managed to turn off Remezov Street, and the tighter avenue greeted them with a fireteam of soldiers with vests chock full of ammunition, the leader of the group’s posture indicating Stop.

“Civilians are to report to shelters,” demanded a Mladshy Uryadnik as soon as the window was rolled down. Kazakov pushed his way into sight of the soldier between the window and the driver’s seat and immediately began to gripe.

“I’m Nikita Kazakov-- soldier, I’m a damn Chairman! Let us through!” But the soldier did not particularly react to the apparent pulling of rank.

“Get out of the car-- we can’t allow you to pass any further.”

“Проклятий fool!” Cursed Kazakov under his breath, unbelting himself as two more soldiers walked alongside the car. “I need access to the airport immediately-- oh, I’ll have you discharged!”

“Of course you will, sir.” Said the jaded young officer, adjusting his rifle and pointing down the street. “Get to your shelter.”

Kazakov, wincing as a nearby explosion resonated in his bones, clenched his fists and slowly turned to follow their directions. As the driver followed suit close behind him, Kazakov spat on the sidewalk. He would have to wait this out.

So, if you think you had an embassy with me or would think it natural… let’s hope your insurance covers civil wars.

I don't think Purgadellhi ever left that place...

Delta Vega IV and French roman republic

Treadwellia wrote:As of dawn, this faintest tingling of Tubbius Magic was a pleasant rippling feeling washing through the Chubby Clauses and brightening Their complexions with a tiny bit of golden light to go with the natural ruddiness. The Royal Rotundities were beginning to feel the first pangs of a hunger more demanding than usual as all around Treadwellia Their descendants are preparing for this upcoming week of Thanksgiving with grocery purchases and grateful prayers to The Two Tubbies.

By eight in the morning, this pleasant rippling has become a flush of warmth illuminating the Immensities with light, heat, and sweat. As They settle in to the hot tub for the usual shared morning bath, The Ravenous Roly-Polies can focus only on filling Their bellies with what is already Fifth Breakfast. Beside the bathtub, Dr. Biggenbottom-Tubbius mmphs his huffy observation: with this Tubbius Magic Surge brought on by an exceptionally devout family of Treadwellians, Poppa and Momma Tubbius are likely to just balloon right past Their seventeenth Tubbs.

How far past is anyone's guess.

Buy buy buy!!!

Treadwellia and Winner909098

Guiness Freaks wrote:Buy buy buy!!!

Buy what? Stock in MaTubbity gowns? Food?

The Ukrainian poll you always wanted, but you didn't know you wanted until now.

page=poll/p=166306

We are not only sunshine and academic enterprises, we have also other ...

Darker ...
2 days 9 hours ago: Following new legislation in Aigania, the nation's black ops are starting to get on people's nerves.
3 days 23 hours ago: Following new legislation in Aigania, the military maintains a fierce arsenal of 'Cure Missiles'.

and Kinkier side
2 days 9 hours ago: Following new legislation in Aigania, nude art is becoming wildly popular.
5 days ago: Following new legislation in Aigania, sales of disinfectant wipes have skyrocketed. [strict health standards for body mods]
6 days ago: Following new legislation in Aigania, leather-clad individuals can be seen walking their slaves in public parks.

(OOC: sorry I was expecting to write a engaging RP mini tale, but I had run out of time and RL and the ongoing pandemic has thrown a really curved ball today. So only a bare minimum engaging for now).

Delta Vega IV and French roman republic

New poll time! there only can be one!!

page=poll/p=166318

Favorite pot pie!

Heyo Bone hurt juiceisnt very poggers

«12. . .4,2274,2284,2294,2304,2314,2324,233. . .8,7278,728»

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