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SotF Diplomacy!
Topic Started: Feb 24 2009, 06:37 PM (2,128 Views)
Nealosi
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Level 80
[ *  *  * ]
The Ottoman Emperor would like to pass the peace pipe as a gesture of kindness and respect to his fellow world leaders.

There's plenty for all of us (power mad dictators) to share.

That's a fine turkish hashish that you're not smoking. /flex
I eat alone in a desert with skulls for my pets,
I rate the days 1 to 10 with lead cigarettes.


v4

Jeremy Ressler
Catherine Cowie
Haaziq Muhammad Sayf
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Darkling Perhaps
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REMOTE TERMINAL ACCESS ONLY
[ *  * ]
Austria-Hungary is ready to ROCK!!!

Anyway, Neal! What are your plans for the area between us?

I also wouldn't mind some PM's from you guys about possible alliances/WAR. Whatever.
Hungry?
Posted Image
I brought leftovers...


Mark Tavarian - A rotting corpse at the Sea Cliffs
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Jonny
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You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
[ *  *  * ]
1901. Westminster, London, England. Fears of world war were mounting, for good reason. Everyone was fearing that the recent absurd increase in aggression from all seven European powers meant there was going to be an all-out war. They were fearing correctly. But nobody was fearing, as they should have been, that shit... was about to get epic.

A grim, shadowy figure stalked hastily through the winding halls of Scotland Yard, eventually bursting through a heavy door with a sense of profound urgency. In the room sat a broad-shouldered, elderly man, built powerfully and with a commanding bald countenance. If this man wasn't a badass currently, he definitely used to be a badass. He appeared to be mired in some official paperwork or some boring shit like that upon the moment of door-bursting, and looked almost relieved to have a break from such an undignified task.

“Inspector Pondsworth!” yelled the newcomer breathlessly. “I've just returned from infiltrating the ranks of the proto-Nazis. Many of them died to my akimbo revolver-katanas, but I uncovered a problem that even they can't handle.”

“Yes, I've heard the news. You've done well, Agent Dynamite.” Montgomery Pondsworth III, head of Scotland Yard's Bureau of Awesome Shit, rose from his impressive chair. You know how I was saying earlier about him potentially not being a badass anymore? Yeah, fuck that, it was now apparent that Pondsworth was ripped as all hell and probably a master of at least six martial arts. He regarded Agent Zachary “Attack” Dynamite with a steely gaze as he spoke. “The entire civilized world is going to war as we speak. This is terrible news.”

“Sir, with all due respect... terrible?” Zack, ever the hot-blooded rookie, stared at his superior quizzically and suspiciously. “I just fought proto-Nazis with revolver-katanas. If this escalates to a global level, this could be the coup that the BAS has been looking for. Not that I want there to be a war, of course. War is hell, and I'm actually a man of peace deep down. But seriously, I think this has the potential to be some really awesome shit.”

“Listen, Rookie, I've been working this job for thirty years and I don't like your cocky, fiery attitude. Well, scratch that, I do, it's one of your most badass qualities.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You're welcome. But here's what you didn't know: none of the other six agents returned. Agent Baye was taken out by ninja terrorists in Austria-Hungary. Agent Harris? Killed by vampires in Moscow. Even on our own soil, Agent Black was killed in a shadowy villain's battle of wits / obstacle course of death.”

“Jesus Christ... so you're worried it might be too awesome? I mean, I guess it's a possibility—”

“No, Dynamite. Think. Proto-Nazis, even if the concept is technically meaningless to us because this is 1901, could just be a coincidence. But seven agents beset by seven awesome foes? And only one survives? What does that sound like?”

“Well... it sounds like a plot-convenient conspiracy of some sort. But it just doesn't make sense: why launch a conspiracy against us, Inspector? Conspiracies are really badass, and that's exactly what we thrive off of!”

“It would seem like that. But then I realized... what if those were all lures? To get us out of the way, or at least distract us from the true problem? What if they don't want us interfering with their plans for this war? What if the real conspiracy... is to make the Great War as boring as possible?”

“Oh God... you mean like... sitting in trenches for several days and fighting grueling battles of attrition?”

“Exactly. Think of how boring that would be! We can't let it happen.”

“But if we only have one agent,” asked Zack, fear entering his voice for the first time, “what chance do we have?”

“We don't only have one agent. I've authorized that you be paired with an... outside specialist.”

“Outside? You mean, like... from the States?”

“No, Dynamite. I mean from the future. Tell me... have you ever heard the legend of Lance “Uppercut” Vanguard: HERO OF THE IMPERIUM?”

TO BE CONTINUED
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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Jonny
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You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
[ *  *  * ]
Posted Image

ENGLAND
A Lvp H
F Nth-Nwy (Bounce with A StP)
F Eng-Nth (Bounce with F Nth)

FRANCE
A Spa H
F Mid-Por
A Bur-Pic

GERMANY
F Den-Swe (Bounce with F Bot)
A Kie-Hol
A Ruh-Bel

ITALY
A Tus H
A Ven H
F Ion-Tun

AUSTRIA
A Bud-Ser (Bounce with A Bul)
A Rum S A Bud-Ser (Cut, dislodged into Gal)
F Tri-Alb

RUSSIA
A StP-Nwy (Bounce with F Nth)
F Bot-Swe (Bounce with F Den)
F Sev-Rum
A Ukr S F Sev-Rum

Turkey
A Bul-Ser (Bounce with A Bud)
A Con-Bul (Bounce with A Bul)
F Ank-Con (Bounce with A Con)

BUILDING TIME!. Could the following countries please tell me the location and type of their builds:

FRANCE: 2 Builds
GERMANY: 3 Builds
ITALY: 1 Build
RUSSIA: 1 Build
TURKEY: 1 Build

PM me as soon as you can. No hard and fast deadline, but the faster I get 'em, the faster we can proceed to 1902. Also, Austria can choose to disband his unit in Rumania instead of fleeing to Galicia. If he chooses to do so, he gains 1 build to bring his unit total back up to 3.
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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Jonny
Member Avatar
You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
[ *  *  * ]
What's this? A map with everyone's builds included?

Posted Image

OH GOD IT IS

Next week I will be in Vegas, where I will have no internet and will probably wind up in prison. Thus orders are due 000 Sunday March 29th, by which time I will have posted bail.

(Usually the order due date is easy to find because it is in bold text, but here I have bolded other words under the guise of emphasizing them. Only worthy players will be able to find the due date in time!)
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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DetectiveArcher
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Lieutenant Obvious
[ *  *  * ]
Gentlemen, the Prime Minister of England implores you: stop this race of madness. Surely, we can set aside our differences and work together, to build a lasting peace through other means than force of arms.
Maybe the night seems so dark because the day is much too bright.

v3 Characters-
Petra Elizabeth Andrews, Morgan Green, Edward Sullivan

v4 Characters-
Ilario Fiametta III, Roy Archer, Riley Flynn, Olexia Kovacs
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Jonny
Member Avatar
You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
[ *  *  * ]
“Lance Vanguard?” asked Zack suspiciously. “I mean, I've heard the rumors, yeah... but I was always told they were just myths with no basis in reali—yeah, wait, that actually pretty much guarantees that they're true.”

“Quite,” replied Pondsworth with a sharp nod. “Now, I'm sure you've forgotten some relevant details and could use a helping of exposition, so pay attention: in the future, a mysterious organization of global guardians called EDGE—”

“EDGE? What does it stand for?”

“It's a badass acronym, why the hell should you care what it stands for? Anyway, EDGE searches the records of the past for coded distress calls from groups like our own, and dispatches its agents back in time to solve problems.”

“And Lance Vanguard... he's an agent of EDGE?”

“Correct. His most formidable power is that his mere presence makes the surrounding shit several times more awesome, a sort of aura that turns the mundane into the badass. EDGE is usually reluctant about deploying him, because he's been known to make rockers wailing on electric guitars spontaneously appear several hundred years before electric guitars are invented. The result is often disorienting for the natives and requires extensive cleanup.”

“Wait, what are electric guitars? This is 1901, remember?”

“My point exactly. Now, in this situation, I am afraid we have no chance but to send a distress signal for Lance Vanguard and hope he arrives. We may have to deal with some unfortunate consequences, but this war needs to become awesome by any means necessary.”

“Alright, then... what kind of distress signal are we talking about?” At this, Pondsworth took a revolver out of his breast pocket and held it to his own head. “Wait, Inspector! What the hell are you doing?” shouted Zack as he lunged towards his superior in an attempt to stop him.

“What the hell, Dynamite?” growled Pondsworth and he struggled to fight Zack off of him. “You're supposed to tell me to stop and insist there must be another way, but not actually try to stop me! Now get off me and let me shoot myself in the head.”

“Then... at least explain why! You owe me that!”

“It's simple. A distress signal can't be obvious, or it would risk being noticed by someone else before EDGE is even formed. But think about it... a senior detective is killed under mysterious circumstances while investigating a shadowy conspiracy, and his young protege is convicted of the crime despite something not quite fitting. To most people, it's an unfortunate series of events. To EDGE, it's the most clearly-worded signal possible.”

“That makes sense, I guess... but you have to stop! There must be some other way!”

“Ah, now you understand,” said Pondsworth with an almost fatherly smile, “but don't worry about me. You seriously don't think a veteran mentor-type is actually going to make it through this story alive, even if you save me here?”

“I... I suppose not. Very well. Do it.”

Pondsworth nodded in a thoroughly dignified fashion and pulled the trigger. Moments after, four well-armed guards appeared and unceremoniously declared that Agent Zachary Dynamite was to be arrested for the murder of Inspector Montgomery Pondsworth III. Moments after that... shit got epic.

A grim, shadowy figure suddenly materialized out of nowhere and immediately two a pair of two-bladed swords, stabbing all four of the guards at the same time before they could even draw their weapons. Zack stared in awe at the newcomer's face, which was obviously really handsome and awesome. In fact, he was wearing one half of a pair of sunglasses as if it was a monocle.

“My name is Lance Vanguard,” said the man. “Come with me... if you want to take it to the limit.”

TO BE CONTINUED
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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Nealosi
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Level 80
[ *  *  * ]
((I was bored and felt like posting something. First sorta-rp post since my return. :) Also, these posts are hilarious Jonny, keep it up the good work ;) ))

The markets of Istanbul flourished with life. From his balcony along the Bosporus the young Emperor Nealosi 1st could hear loathsome Bulgarian oxen – burdened with precious wheat – shuffle along the wharf past groaning Mamluk camels from Baghdad. Ships from all across the Mediterranean clamoured past bulky Russian barges and a multitude of Turkish and Arab merchant vessels.

Prosperous times gave the Emperor a headache; advisors were too wrapped up in their own inflating wallets to speak with their regular candour and the great Turkish capitol was awash with the cacophony of commerce.

It all seemed so fleeting to the Emperor. Peace was essential to maintain the current robustness of the Ottoman economy; the previous dynasty had made a financial ruin of the mighty Muslim Empire and the waterways had to be open for a recovery to truly begin.

The revolution in early 1901 had not been unanimous. The Emperor had survived the tumultuous politics by avoiding confrontation with the Imams, the aggressive and short-sighted policies of his peers in the military and rebuilding the Empire into a prosperous, modern nation with roads, wells and granaries. Still, many accused the Emperor of being too secular. Simultaneously he shouldered back-channel whispers from the generalship about being too passive and scholarly.

They would always find something to complain about. Gossip only warranted the Emperor’s attention when the grumblings had the smell of mutiny.

Upon reflection, the Emperor was glad to have survived the turn of the millennium. In the course of a single year the empire had a War in the Balkans, escalating tensions between nations, and a complete overhaul of Ottoman government under the new Nealosi dynasty, rife with assassinations, riots and re-written laws. Each turn had threatened to end the Emperor’s reign before it could even begin. The Empire would not have survived much longer without a renewed outlook, stagnation had monopolized the Ottoman Empire before the revolution, and already the Muslim nation had seen improvements since its rebirth.

Like a green sapling, the Empire could flourish into the greatest ancient oak with only the most tender cultivation, or be trampled by the ravages of corruption and apathy.

Spring had come early to the Turkish metropolis, hot air rushed into the study like bad news, forecasting messengers, advisors and sycophants. It didn’t take long for the retinue to fill the Emperor’s office-study, for weeks the government had been bickering like children over policy and how to squander the new found wealth of the Empire.

Many still favoured war. Many more had nothing to say at all with their shit-eating yes-men smiles. One had a message from the Prime Minister of Great Britain.

“So, the British Empire calls for peace.” A word from the Emperor quieted the rabble of staffers. The Emperor paused, the awkward silence gave him some time to hear himself think and test the patience of all the irksome hang-arounds.

Surely the military would refuse outright, and the Imams with their hordes of poor brain-washed peasants were beginning to work themselves into a zealous frenzy over the supposed oppression of Muslims in the Balkans. There was some truth to their outrage, but the Emperor would not be bullied by religious interests and bloodthirsty jihadists.

“Send messengers to each of Europe’s great leaders, the Ottoman Empire will answer the call for peace,” for as long as the peace would last. The nations of Europe were insatiable for new frontiers. Signing a peace treaty now would be like a throwing a band-aid in a river of blood. Nevertheless, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“The city of Istanbul is open to any diplomats on behalf of Austria-Hungary, Germany, Great Britain, France, Italy and Russia. We must decide the fate of the world as civil men of God, and not succumb to violent designs. I cannot deny the cries of great distress from our Muslim brothers in Serbia, but I have faith in the reason of my Christian brothers and pray that they will cease the oppression against my people. Together, we can make a lasting peace in the Balkans for all of God’s subjects.”

The Emperor could feel a sheepish grin creep across his face, rhetoric was important in diplomacy, but even he was having trouble believing his own. Scribes worked quick hands to capture the message in full.

“Asalum alakum my brothers, that will be all.”

Some of the crowd dispersed out into the city, others stayed, but Emperor Nealosi had duties still before the sun cast long shadows over his beloved city. Once again, the burden of empire would force the young leader into a whirlwind of excessive social engagements and monotonous administrative duties. It would take a keen and careful navigator for the empire to weather the storm ahead. The Emperor felt prepared to holdfast against the waves and guide his crew through the gale.

His headache continued to besiege his patience as he went about his duties throughout the day, surrounded by inane ‘advisory’ chatter and the proud, boisterous pulse of the city which made it all worth while.
I eat alone in a desert with skulls for my pets,
I rate the days 1 to 10 with lead cigarettes.


v4

Jeremy Ressler
Catherine Cowie
Haaziq Muhammad Sayf
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laZardo
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^This is not what a Laz looks like^
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Any room in there for the Swedes? King Bjorn-Frida Lazardosson demands an audience.))

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
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Jonny
Member Avatar
You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
[ *  *  * ]
Holy shit holy shit I think some Spring 1902 orders just resolved!

Posted Image

ENGLAND
F Eng S A Bel-Pic
F Nth-Nwy
A Lvp H

FRANCE
F Por-Mid
A Spa-Mar
F Bre-Hold
A Pic-Bur (Bounce with A Mun, dislodged into Par)
A Par-Gas

GERMANY
A Bel-Pic
A Hol-Bel
F Kie-Bal (Bounce with F Bot)
F Den-Swe
A Ber H
A Mun-Bur

ITALY
F Tun-Wes
A Tus-Pie
F Nap-Ion
A Ven H

AUSTRIA-HUNGARY
F Alb-Gre
A Bud-Ser (Bounce with A Bul)
A Gal H

RUSSIA
A StP-Fin
F Bot-Bal (Bounce with F Kie)
A War-Ukr
A Ukr-Rum
F Rum-Bla

TURKEY
A Bul-Ser (Bounce with A Bud)
A Con-Bul (Bounce with A Bul)
F Ank-Con (Bounce with A Con)
F Smy-Aeg
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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GameMaker
Member Avatar
Error: This Title Is Too Smexy To Display
[ *  * ]
"Fuhrer, do you have some time to talk?"

"I'm in the middle of something." The Fuhrer was leaned over his desk, papers sprawled all over it. He struck an imposing figure- well over six feet, jet black hair, and dressed in a nice suit. Not his finest- far from his finest- but still far better than most of the suits you'd find in Germany.

"This is interesting... very interesting." The Fuhrer stroked his chin, looking down at the papers and ignoring the man at his door almost completely. The other man wasn't speaking- he knew it was never a good idea to interrupt the Fuhrer when he was busy. The Fuhrer slipped on his reading glasses, and through the dim light of his desk lamp, held up one of the papers and examined.

"Now tell me, Heinrich- do you think this looks like me?" He held up the paper so that Heinrich could see it- it was a crayon drawing of something that looked like a mix between a bear, odd shapes, and random scribbles. The color scheme was terrible- orange and purple clashed, making the approximate color of the bear look like the result of Heinrich's night out when he had a few too many. Above the drawing, two words had been written in a wobbly, almost illegible script- My Daddy.

"Fuhrer, it... it looks beautiful." The Fuhrer smiled. He was an imposing man, a bold man almost always and a terrifying figure at times- but now, he looked more vulnerable than ever. There was a warmth and kindness in that smile that the Fuhrer rarely showed.

"I'm going to have it framed, and hung up on the wall." The Fuhrer sighed, and put it back down on his desk. "A little reminder of my center of peace in these harsh times... I never wanted this war. All that wars do is bring death and woe... and I am guessing that your news brings even more sadness?"

"Not exactly, sir. Not a move by any of our enemies- but not one by our allies, either." The Fuhrer looked puzzled. "It's the Bureau of Awesome Shit, sir. One of their top men, Monty Pondsworth, was found dead. The news, and what is commonly believed, is that he was murdered by one of his own proteges, Zack 'Attack' Dynamite."

"And now, I suppose you're going to tell me what really happened?" The Fuhrer sat in his chair, and his smile was now fully off. It was a cold, serious face- the kind the Fuhrer had when he had his war councils.

"Our agents and myself believe that he committed suicide." Heinrich said. "Pondsworth saw the feud coming, and he wished to end it- so he got another agency involved. And the only way he could get this agency involved was by doing something only they would know- sending out a coded message."

"EDGE?!" The Fuhrer stood up, the look on his face nervous... and somewhat fearful. "EDGE is involved in this?!"

"I believe so, Fuhrer. Pondsworth probably thought that EDGE would be the only thing capable of stopping this erupting war." The Fuhrer smiled at this. It was a far different smile from before- warm and loving before, cold and bitter now.

"Pondsworth was wrong, then. Nothing can stop this coming bloodbath- EDGE will only make it worse with their involvement. Perhaps at the beginning, they could have stopped it... but not now. Now, not even Lance Vanguard himself will be able to stop the madness erupting through Europe."
All in the game, yo... All in the game.- Omar Little, The Wire

V4:
J.J. Sturn- "I'm not a bad person. I'm not a bad person."
Mike Jeffries- "Don't worry, guys. Everything's going to be just fine."
Omar Burton- "I must say, I'm beginning to realize that I'm the only smart person in the room."
Kaitlin Anderheim- "I've never even talked to a guy before..."

DEAD THEY'RE ALL DEAD
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Jonny
Member Avatar
You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
[ *  *  * ]
What's this? Is it a highly cryptic map that doesn't feature unit locations because I'm on a tight schedule right now? I think it is.

Posted Image

A full map, the full list of orders, and LVCPost will be up later this weekend. I got shit on my plate, apologies.

New orders are due 000 Sunday, April 19th.
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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