WA Delegate: The Fallen Angels of Liberated New Arizona (elected )
Last WA Update:
Embassies: The Empire of Tamriel, Capital Wasteland, Warhammer 40000, The World of Remnant, The Warden World, International Debating Area, League of Christian Nations, U R N, The County of Anvil, Winterfell, Regionless, Eastern Roman Empire, The Glorious Nations of Iwaku, Australia, The Peaceful Coffee Shop In Chicago, The Dank Meme Alliance, and 71 others.Union of Nationalists, The Illuminati, Barbaria, The Alterran Republic, Union Hispanica, The Bar on the corner of every region, The Sands, Future Earth, Hollow Point, Avadam Inn, The Great Universe, Auralia, Golden Dragons, New Coalition of Nations, Gypsy Lands, Christmas, Bus Stop, Arconian Empire, Fredonia, Kingdom of Adonai, Ancient, Usea, Aukumnian Imperium, Memeverse, The Moderate Alliance, United States of America, Urana Firma, Union of Allied States, Monarchist and Democratic Alliance, Libertas, Free Market Federation, New World Union, The Planet X, Universal Pact, The Place, Union of Liberal Nations, Institute of Cellulose, Official European Union, The Great Experiment, Chicken overlords, Imperium of the Wolf, Yuno, The United Empires of Carson, Oatland, Oneid, Land of Prosperity, 1980s America, RAMS, First World Order, Victorian era rp 2, Northern Argaen Trade Organization, The Mainland of Tamriel, Sovereign Corporate League, The Embassy, The Minecraft Kingdom, Varanius, Guinea Kiribati, Placeholder, empty wasteland, Travelling Wilburys, New California Republic, Golden Eco Friendly, The Astrogarth Region, Narodia, The Carrot Patch, Stalins Holy Conglomerate, Nationstates Ski Resort, Roma Invicta, Union of Christian Nations, Bootana Hutta, and The New Galactic Order.
Today's World Census Report
The Largest Publishing Industry in The Fallout Wasteland
The World Census tallied social media complaints from students regarding overpriced textbooks to determine which nations have the largest book publishing industries.
As a region, The Fallout Wasteland is ranked 5,982nd in the world for Largest Publishing Industry.
|1.||The Maria's Pirates of Santiago AU||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“Beware the Daughter of the Sea”|
|2.||The Railroad of Grand Enclave||New York Times Democracy||“Freedom for Synths”|
|3.||The Democratic Republic of Unified Commonwealth of New America||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“War War Never Changes”|
|4.||The Knights of Polaris of Ardentus||Democratic Socialists||“The North Star Guides Us”|
|5.||The Einherjar of Raiders of Ragnarok||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“Lord of the Nine Hosts”|
|6.||The Free Economic Zone of Lengo||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“The House Always Wins”|
|7.||The Colony of United Ghouls||Corporate Bordello||“Hope inlays the past, the past we must remember”|
|8.||The Empire of Zetans aliens||Capitalist Paradise||“We Will Endure”|
|9.||The Legitimate Government of Americas Enclave Remnants||Compulsory Consumerist State||“God Bless America!”|
|10.||The Protectorate of Arriva Wales 24||Moralistic Democracy||“The meaning to life, the universe, and everything”|
- : The Community of Midwestern Green Army arrived from The South Pacific.
- : The Empire of Zetans aliens arrived from The South Pacific.
- : The Guardians of Jevron of the region Bootana Hutta cancelled the closure of its embassy in The Fallout Wasteland.
- : The Dictatorship of -Enclave- arrived from The West Pacific.
- : The Republic of New San Andreas Republic of the region Calexico and Mexicali proposed constructing embassies.
- : Regenesis discipleship ceased to exist.
- : The Trans Rights of Frenchy 72 of the region Bootana Hutta ordered the closure of its embassy in The Fallout Wasteland.
- : The Carolling Colony of GoodKingWenceslas of the region Christmas cancelled the closure of its embassy in The Fallout Wasteland.
- : The Republic of Silaer of the region Christmas ordered the closure of its embassy in The Fallout Wasteland.
- : United states armed forces remnants ceased to exist.
The Fallout Wasteland Regional Message Board
The Stage Is Set
You can see it with your eyes. Streets being cleaned, banners hanged, buildings patched up and redecorated (as best they can). Radio Kamchatka has been broadcasting instructions to people, telling them to be in their best form and attire. The rate of den raids increases dramatically, with four gambling houses busted in the span of 24 hours, some of which are just the same establishment moved after the previous raid. Police actually started enforcing order for the first time in a while, and overall, Petropavlovsk has rekindled a bustling feeling not felt in a long time.
Everyone knows why things seem so much nicer right now. In a few weeks, the next Fleet Review is happening, the first since the better part of a decade. As the fleet is quite literally the lifeline of the entire city, the leading men have deemed it fit that the city sober up to look the part in celebrating the force's continued operations. Things are propped up and brushed with a fresh coat of paint as if they were rehearsing for a parade in Moskva's Red Square all those centuries ago. Drunkards, drug users, sex workers, they've all been swept up and sent... somewhere. Probably out of town or in a containment area. Can't have degenerates ruin the only sunshine days in this god-forsaken peninsula.
Sokolov is a worker in a lumber mill, and he notices that his weekly pay has increased these past few times. Two or three more ration cards than normal, and a couple of rubles to buy stuff on the street. He supposes they couldn't have hungry people during this whole thing either. Then again, who are they performing for? The Alaskans? The Japanese? No one is going to give a sh!t if the Fleet Review was less opulent and grand. Oh well, the bonus pay is great, at least.
Just shut up and take the money.
The Veil has Lifted
Jefferson City, Missouri
They Say in the Heart of Missouri there lies a great city. Mediocre before the war, yet preserved so well, it’s like a Jewel amongst the wastes. Yet this City isn’t open to every weary traveler. More often than not, those captured and deemed unworthy to live under the Cities Occupiers are thrown into a pit outside the city. It’s Occupants? The Remnants of the Missouri National Guard, turned into a Fanatical Surveillance State ruled by an Absolute Monarch descended from the Guards former Generals.
Still the Summer sun beats down on Jefferson City, and High above the city, atop the dome of the Missouri Capitol Building, Empress Alison Young looks down on the city with a Fan in her hand. She contemplates her Situation: 40,000 Citizens yet such a small city. How will people live in such a crowded environment? Only one answer came to her mind: “Expansion.” Perhaps it was time to break the Isolation, Purify and reunite Missouri. It would be a Costly endeavor, but why not? We have such an abundance of soldiers, it would be foolish not to take advantage.
The Clock starts ticking…
Haixi needs funds
Daniel was no longer in the red militia, he had given up the red armband to return to the village and work in metal, life was returned to normal. The region itself seemed to be doing much better with the settlements helping each other to hunt raiders or exterminate harmful creatures on the roads. This also helped trade between the settlements.
In the meantime, the Chinese village was named Haixi, meaning "west of the sea", this name was chosen for several reasons, but some Chinese noted the connection with their home country also located west of a sea. This little piece of an American city would become a "new China" for the party. The Chinese became more extroverted in their method with new schools and propaganda in songs and shows open to Americans.
The Chinese used the Red Militia to show that Chinese and Americans could join forces and work together for a better future, that the world could be rebuilt by collective effort.
But if it wasn't really propaganda that attracted people, it was the opportunities of a job that paid and the security. The Chinese who lived in a bunker had retained old-world systems that were more interesting to the inhabitants of the wasteland. For their part, the Chinese were thinking of introducing a new currency to the surface. They were not fans of capsules, the quantity of capsules was also reminiscent of old-world hyper-consumption and the government had difficulty obtaining them unlike the other villages around. It would take time for their currency to represent something in the eyes of the American population who would still prefer capsules, especially since the Chinese currency was a fiat currency. Haixi still needed funds that were valuable in the eyes of the rest of the world, so not content with selling weapons, workers were mobilized after the restoration of the factory was completed to establish the People's Construction Bureau (PCB) to help with future construction outside the bunker while workers, placed at the factory, made tools and small melee weapons, like knives, to sell to other villages.
Juanxiu had been back for a while, the pressure of the last few months of conflict was less now, and Haixi was growing, even reopening the old factory under which the bunker was located. Juanxiu and Ling found themselves at the entrance to the bunker.
Ling was excited to show how much the village had changed since Juanxiu had gone east.
"And there are even shows about the war of the New Red Revolution", explained Ling in Mandarin as she walked through the streets with her friend. "This is what I was talking about", Ling finished, entering the large square where there was a statue of several men and women, in and out of uniform, workers and resistance fighters, Chinese and American, armed and unarmed, under the flag of the liberation army.
Juanxiu looked at the statue intently, "It looks like I missed all the action", she said in a neutral tone. Ling turned and said seriously, "It was a horror... but it was necessary”, Ling paused for a moment before continuing, "We are more united now, some Americans are even joining the party”, she finished on a more cheerful tone. Juanxiu said nothing, and together with Ling they started to move around the square.
In the square there was an open theatre, telling the story of the Mall revolution. Ling and Juanxiu watched. Juanxiu remembered the assault. The play exaggerated the event. Daniel, who did not have to work that day, was there with his sister trying to collect caps donations for the party. He recognised the two ladies dressed in shirt and trousers.
"Ladies, have you come to make a donation ?", said Daniel pointing to his sister.
"Yes, but we don't have any capsules, comrade...?", said Ling directly.
"Daniel Owen", replied Daniel.
"Peng Ling and this is the tongzhi Huang Juanxiu", followed Ling.
"What shall I call you ? Comrade Ling ?", asked Daniel, unaccustomed.
"Comrade Peng Ling !", replied Ling, smiling and standing proudly at attention.
Juanxiu and Daniel looked at her seriously before they both smiled.
"You, you're the black armor that helped me and my sister, aren't you ?", suddenly said Daniel to Juanxiu. Juanxiu only nodded but wasn't really sure. Daniel held out his hand, "Thank you”.
Juanxiu shook Daniel's hand, it made her feel good to know that she had at least helped people.
"Well, we must leave you now, we are needed elsewhere", Ling said, taking Juanxiu's arm. "It was a pleasure, Comrade Daniel Owen”.
"Just call me Daniel", replied Daniel, grinning, before letting the two ladies go.
The relationship between the Chinese and the Americans, while generally good, was not always easy. Some Americans, more educated on the subject, still feared the Chinese because of what they knew about the old world, others simply had trouble with the system and the cultural elements that the Chinese brought. But they still stayed in the neighborhood because it was better than being in the wasteland, at the mercy of raiders or slavers.
Small yard (building materials) begins (3.5, rounding up to 4 days)
172 rifles "sold"
Production and selling of "tools" and small melee weapons, (35*10/days=) 350/days directly "sold" (Selling does nothing, just for the narrative)
If there was one thing Harrison had hated in the world, it was anarchy. And passing tough the market of Spruce Knob was a prime example of anarchy. Built up like the many ghost towns in the Midwest it’s was remade quickly of shacks and tents. Where even after all this time their were still holes in roof and walls and tents having held generations of families. Having gone back into the settlement fishing for any information by Peterson the Agent could only hold back the comments about the mutated humans. Unlike the organized settlements of the vault dwellers like Morgantown. The crowded market and buildings falling apart left little to imagine of the priorities of the settlers here. The descendants of treasure hunters and out of state refugees they were more alike to the wastelanders of D.C and California. Just scraping buy enough to live day by day hoping to find enough of a lead to make it big back home.
But orders were orders, and the few guns and drugs he took from some long gone raiders sitting out in the divide was a reason enough for a lone prospector to walk into the old camp ground. Though the guards seemed more tense than usual. Walking up to one of the advertise gun merchants in what used to be a drinks stall, Harrison fixed his professional smile back on for the old merchant named mike he used as a informant. The owner mike could only smile when Harrison stoped in front of his stall.
“Well now looked who finally showed up again”, looking directly at the clinking duffle bag over Harrison’s shoulder
“Well it many others would give me a good deal for what I find” taking of the duffle bag of ‘aquired’ gear he sling his hunting rifle back in and started to lay out the raiders gear” Found some decent pistols and a few knives I figured were pretty decent, little rust and a few scratches on them all. “
Picking through the gathered goods Mike could only nod along” Should be easy enough to move now. Folks have been clamoring over any gun or bullet that comes tough here.”
“What you mean, something happen while I was out?.”
Mike could only rub the back of his neck “ Well a few caravans got hit coming from Monogah about two weeks ago, nothing big but a few bullet wound and some dead raiders. The issue came a few days ago the raider went right into Monogah and nearly burnt the whole place to the ground. Didn’t even wait for the whole pillage or any looting, just torched any home they could find. Most of the survivors had abandoned what’s left and headed back here.” Looking around Harrison could see the more ragged settlers making home in what cover they could find. Mike continued looking out twards the forest. “They tried moving into some of the Vaulters towns in the Valey but got turned away quick”
With the bad blood between the vaulters and settlers it would be a surprise for them to stay. Fights between treasure hunters and settlers looking for the good land in the Valey where all of the Vault dweller descendants made home had been a hot issue lately. With the settlers squatting in any shead no matter where. And the treasure hunter chasing rumors to the point of robing people for their ‘secrets’ have left many Vaulters to just turn away any settlers from their lands.
Harrison could only think to finish the buisness and head back to his small post in the south mountain lookout. “Well, I’ll take three boxes of .308 then, sound like I’ll need it now than later” grabbing the offered ammo and caps Harrison began to turn of the find more info, having sat down in the middle of the market to here every little rumor in town. After sometime in the market and a small little bar int he corner, Harrison could only walk out the gate thinking on the options this could give the enclave. With his orders to find any weaknesses on the Settlers defenses the old adage of killing two birds with one stone was sounding more likely by the day with the heat ups all over Appalachia
Penthouse Floor, The Lucky 38 Casino, Free Economic Zone of New Vegas
Mr House: I take that the Boomers’ cooperation has been secured?
The Courier: Yes. Pearl passing led them to evaluate her legacy and our past cooperation was a highlight. They want to rekindle that.
Mr House: Nostalgia is a powerful tool when used effectively, bravo. Now, your next assignme-
The Courier: Aren’t you going to ask how I did it?
Mr House: *sigh* I am not prepared to entertain your ego and engage you in barbaric displays of congratulations. If anything, I’m disappointed that you resorted to murder to push my agenda. It is a last resort and the expertise of the Doctors at Nelis is not to be underestimated. Even wasteland medical training doesn’t skip the ‘check if the plug is still in the wall’ lesson.
The Courier: How did you know?
Mr House: Come now, you enter the home of a dying woman, she dies with only you present and the outcome benefits you greatly? Comic books have, well, had better mysteries then that. The Mojave may be filled with gullible people, Courier Six, but I am not one of them. Assuming otherwise is often a fatal mistake.
The Courier: My name is Jack.
Mr House: Jack, Courier, underling. What I address you as is unimportant in relation to what it is that I am addressing TO you. Your behaviour lately has become more and more reckless.
Mr House stops. The static screen Jack has been staring at doesn’t change but he can tell House is pausing for thought. A rare occurrence. House usually has all his thoughts collected before he speaks.
Mr House: I understand the coming weeks are difficult for you. I have sympathies to how you feel, as hard as you find that to believe. However, it has been almost five years now. Those responsible are long dead. We have work to do, work that requires the same careful application of judgement you impressed me with all those years ago. Are you ready to proceed?
Jack, who’s head had been hanging low during his lecture from Mr House, like a child being scolded by a parent, looked up to Mr House’s static green eyes. A small smirk appeared.
The Courier: Of course, Mr House.
The 2287 Fleet Review (Part 1)
It is a sunny day in Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, and the clocks are striking nine. Light shines down on the buildings and avenues, old and new. The people move about, young and elder, men and women, soldier and worker. Banners and colorful posters scatter around, depicting happy Soviets of all occupations and demographics working to build a better Родина. The trees are green and fresh, leaning to and fro in the wind. It is as if the dystopian misery of this Pacific outpost has went away, even for a week at most. Everywhere, life is free and wide.
Fleet Admiral Mikhail Bogdanov looks out his office balcony. Some three floor below are assembling a menagerie of soldiers and sailors, a thousand voices low and high, with the occasional screams of officers trying to get the rowdy personnel into formation. As for Bogdanov himself, he is busy with some paperwork. Issues to be handled, favors to be given, punishments to be acted upon. Administration was never his strong suit, but as the Fleet Admiral, de facto leader of Kamchatka (itself effectively ruled by a military junta), this was expected. People come to him with questions and problems like they would to any chief, premier, or president. Recently he's been getting some complaints about soldier pay... but to increase it would mean diverting funds from somewhere else, and he doesn't appreciate the idea of ships going out on the sea with holes in them, nor does he think the people will be kind when the wood and coal runs out.
Time is ticking. He organizes his papers and puts them away. Then, he combs his hair, freshen up his face, and put on his cap. In a few minutes he will be presenting himself to the Fleet, and he needs to be in tip-top appearance. Outside, the officers had almost managed to bring the hundreds of scarcely-trained sailors to some semblance of order. Row after row, column after column of men, their bodies shimmering in the morning dew. The Sun rises over them, shining its beams down on formations.
The balcony doors open with a click, and from the darkness emerges Mikhail Andreevich Bogdanov, dressed in full admiral attire. He waves at the crowd of sailors, but many do not respond, leaving an awkward and eerie silence in the air. Hmm. No problem, a bombastic speech should rally them up. He taps the microphone. Not only is it connected to loudspeakers, but also to Radio Kamchatka. His words will not be limited to the people immediately below him, but ring across the city. Bogdanov begins speaking. He speaks of the past, of the Union, the Fleet, the collapse of it all and their self-imposed exile to Petropavlovsk. Then he continues to the present. He lists off the Fleet's exploits at sea and integrity at home. How, from the members of the Council to the newest recruit, they are all part of a family, a ship. They sail together, fight together, and sink together. In the end, he looks to the future, a future where they can end the admittedly despicable act of piracy.
The crowd remains silent, immobile, seemingly not listening to whatever he has to say. Bogdanov can feel his throat slowly solidifying after the speech, unable to say anything else. He quietly excuses himself and lends the balcony to other presenters.
Too focused on Industry and the shadow of a purge
Haixi continued to grow and sell its products to neighbouring communities. But not everything goes so well, the Chinese in the Bunker had noticed that their food maker, which had been infallible until then, had reached its limit in terms of production. Fearing that starvation would pose a threat to their authority, it had become a priority for the bunker's committee to find an alternative, the Chinese did not dare to touch the machine for fear that if they damaged it, it would be fatal. Nor did they have the resources or the energy to build another one. The problem for the Chinese was, that they had been so much dependent on their food processor that they now didn't know how and what to farm. They needed help. So they turned to their neighbours, the predominantly farming communities.
The representative of the 'red' settlements, allies of Haixi, David Swanson, agreed to help the Chinese in their request to study the farms and alimentation of the settlements. In return, David asked for agreements on the tools Haixi produced. The Chinese could not afford to refuse.
Meanwhile, the People's Construction Bureau started a new project for the bunker's committee, which announced the new 5-year plan to the public. This plan announced new industrial areas for metallurgy and construction, new factories, a port, the establishment of an agricultural zone, and political and police reforms. This first open 5-years-plan focused mainly on the desire to develop industry and production, as well as a growing trade in the area and to secure them.
The plan sounded ambitious, and it was; Liu Wei wanted to make Haixi a symbol of the success of his policy. The assassination attempts over the last few months only reinforced his decisions and heralded a future purge within the bunker.
The plan was well-received by those who read it. For many people, both Chinese and American, it made them feel that there would be prosperity for themselves too. However, one black spot had been affecting American families for some time, the schools were teaching a little too much Chinese values for their liking and Chinese as a compulsory course was also a hot topic. Some tried to withdraw their children from schools but the police came to their door to remind them that education is compulsory.
A few days later, Juanxiu was in a small interrogation room in the bunker. Mr. Wang and Shu had been questioning her for a while about life on the outside.
"Finally, what do you think of the Great Opening policies of Tongzhi Chairman Liu Wei ?", asked Shu.
"Tongzhi Liu Wei? As long as our tongzhi Liu Wei leads the ship of socialism, it will continue to sail towards the red sun", replied Juanxiu calmly.
" Do not just repeat some propaganda to us, tongzhi Huang. What do you really think? ?", asked Wang just as calmly, serving a cup of tea to Juanxiu, who looked at the cup worriedly. "Don't worry, it's just a simple black tea"
Before taking the cup, Juanxiu said, "To be honest, for a long time after the trial, I thought the opening was a dangerous mistake, but when I look in the streets of Haixi now, I see hope, joy... life. I was wrong, the committee, in fact, made the best decision", and only then she took a sip of the tea.
Wang and Shu looked at each other and nodded, "Well, we're done now, we have all we need to know, finish your tea and you can go back to your work", said quietly Wang, who had already done his investigation and also knew about Juanxiu's psychological problems.
Juanxiu was worried, she had been sincere, but anyone could have said the same thing to avoid being accused of dissent. The black ghosts were mainly targeted by the accusations.
Construction of a medium yard (scraps) (7 days)
Stops research in engineering 3 to begin Agriculture 1, as an urgent matter (explanation just in case, use a new weekly roll, not like when a research is finished)
Continues to make tools only (counted as melee weapons in terms of cost, "directly deployed to communities around", so not stocked)
Vote for ENCLAVE
With the full backups letting MODUS operate at full capacity, the automated systems for continuous Goverment became active within the white springs bunker. With the system now demanding a presidential candidate to fill the vacant roles filled by former president Richardson and Eden, the remaining enclave members held a vote within the bunker. And in a predicted landslide victory President Dakota Redwood was elected into office as the first female president of the United States.
With much of the bunker in a ceibratory mood, most of the regular duties and tasks had been set aside for cases of liquor and food. From soldier to scientists the simple action of an American election had put some fire int everyone’s emotion. And while everyone let of the stress of work, newly minted President Redwood entered the presidential office of the bunker. A large circular room modeled after the Oval Office itself back in D.C. Though a new desk sat in the traditional spot with a larger terminal behind it along the wall. A terminal lit up with the ‘face’ of MODUS. “Welcome to your office Madam President, may I congratulate you on your electoral victory.”
Walking up to her new desk Redwood could only look around “Thank you MODUS, I can hope i stand up to my predisesors.” Lifting a frame piscture of Richardson Sr and Jr standing side by side. Even a frame of a simple white line on a terminal screen showing the secretive John Eden.
Modus screen flickered to a smile “Well I must admit your election had far less of a mess than Eckart’s was. Constantly leaving body’s and blood everywhere he was”
Looking over to another frame holding the short lived presidency of the former agriculture secretary “Well let’s avoid his pitfalls then” Moving behind the desk into her seat she turned to Modus’ terminal “Well, you have your memory banks returned. The presidency is restored. And the enclave is ready for commands.” Leaning back into her chair and looking to a terminal screen showing the party in the main hall “ It looks like a little American enginuitiy and spirit is about to shine”
Despite the rampant drug use, psychotic episodes of violence, and just complete degregation of any idea of common moral decency. Willow could only think that Raiders are some of the most predictable bunch of idiots ever put on this earth. Having pulled the short straw on collecting information from the big raider group called the alliance, the agent watched through her binoculars as some band of idiots drag their latest victims into the old Palace that they turned into a new camp. Littered with remains of man and animal one can only think what monsters lay inside.
Huffing putting her binoculars down she can only get further strained with how things were going. Having been told to sow a bit of chaos when able she got a break and got a pair of the raider bosses kids killed when they went after some settler caravan a few days ago. When the news got go their kids dead the boss made the place balistic, heading off and destroying the whole town near by right in the middle of the day. Now the place has fights breaking out daily right for anyone to see. Thought the increase in raider patrols had make it harder for her to get around the northern divide. Having set herself up in some abandoned bunker out in the mire she at least could get some sleep away from getting a knife in bed.
Though this could be a pretty good turn. With the raiders focused on the settlers it would be easier for her to get around and nick a few more heads. Shimmying down form her hiding spot and back into the bushes, Willow starts her trip back to the more to radio in her progress.