Pablicosta
24-03-2004, 22:01
OOC-Before I start, this is a serious RP, and wil have a direct effect on my nation-and if you can intertwine your nation then yours too. However, I don't wish this to become a godmod war, and so I will only allow a few people in, and none of you will be able to play the government itself. You may howvere support either side with troops, or diplomatic support.
This is going to be spread over multiple threads eventually.
Feel Free to [tag]
IC-
And so rose the monster...
...from the depths of hell...
...and with it came the end to all...
...and then came the darkness...
...to consume all within its reach...
...and so came the monster.
====================================
Protestors gathered outside number 11, Treasure Street-The working office of the President and his closest supporters. Their banners strewn with things like, War with Kecha? Over my dead body and Yardley for the chop!.
It had only been a week since President Gilles Yardley had been elected, after the much loved President Aerson as forced out of the voting because of an un-explained illness. He had allready disgraced the nation by declaring war on Kecha, a long time ally-and the people were infuriated.
Inside the white stone building, Yardley spoke to his defence director Geofrey Tracer.
What the hell is going on Tracer! get rid of these idiots!?
Sir, these idiots include most of your populus.
Well, well, what shall I do?
I suggest you go back 5 days, and listen to me telling you war is not the right path.
Stop being sarcastic Tracer! Get Yvonne in here.
Yes Sir
The brute of a man that is Geoffrey Tracer leaves through the Dark wooden door and picks up a telephone.
Yvonne, The President requests your prescense
He hung up and returned to the president.
I know how to get rid of the protestors
Proclaimed Yardley as his Director returned.
Kill Them.
Tracer looked in shock and dissmay at his leader.
WHAT!? Screamed Tracer You can not kill Protestors!
Watch me Yardley retorted, and with that he left the office leaving Tracer alone in the winged chair.
On the way up the stairs The President rubbed shoulderrs briskly with his wife Yvonne, who was coming to meet him. She continued walking with a look of annoyance on her face at her husbands ignorance. She entered the room to find Tracer lying back on his chair, with a pistol in his hand.
Geofrey? She asked naively,
Oh, Yvonne. Don't worry, this is for my own protection-you see your husband has just told me he intends to kill the protestors.
Yvonne started to fall, but propped herself against a cabinet.
W-W-What!? Her voice croaked as she spoke, confused.
You heard me right, I beleieve that right now he is talking to General Pinochét about the matter
Yvonne looked deepy into the mans eyes, realised he was not lying and collapsed in a curled mess on the floor. She made a pretty loud noise for a petite girl, but still Tracer left her, making his way towards the stars. As he put his foot on the step and the silence of the office was broken. Two gunshots, broken only by screams and shreiks, then a third devastating blast came from above the floors of the building.
Tracer hung his head, and opened the door allowing the sight of death into the offices of parliament. As he releaced the door and gawped at the two men who lay on the floor, he was stunned. A cold shooting sensation in his stomach, he loooked down, saw blood and looked up. He watched as a man with a gun squeezed the trigger once more, and then the pain in his calf. He fell to the ground.
This is going to be spread over multiple threads eventually.
Feel Free to [tag]
IC-
And so rose the monster...
...from the depths of hell...
...and with it came the end to all...
...and then came the darkness...
...to consume all within its reach...
...and so came the monster.
====================================
Protestors gathered outside number 11, Treasure Street-The working office of the President and his closest supporters. Their banners strewn with things like, War with Kecha? Over my dead body and Yardley for the chop!.
It had only been a week since President Gilles Yardley had been elected, after the much loved President Aerson as forced out of the voting because of an un-explained illness. He had allready disgraced the nation by declaring war on Kecha, a long time ally-and the people were infuriated.
Inside the white stone building, Yardley spoke to his defence director Geofrey Tracer.
What the hell is going on Tracer! get rid of these idiots!?
Sir, these idiots include most of your populus.
Well, well, what shall I do?
I suggest you go back 5 days, and listen to me telling you war is not the right path.
Stop being sarcastic Tracer! Get Yvonne in here.
Yes Sir
The brute of a man that is Geoffrey Tracer leaves through the Dark wooden door and picks up a telephone.
Yvonne, The President requests your prescense
He hung up and returned to the president.
I know how to get rid of the protestors
Proclaimed Yardley as his Director returned.
Kill Them.
Tracer looked in shock and dissmay at his leader.
WHAT!? Screamed Tracer You can not kill Protestors!
Watch me Yardley retorted, and with that he left the office leaving Tracer alone in the winged chair.
On the way up the stairs The President rubbed shoulderrs briskly with his wife Yvonne, who was coming to meet him. She continued walking with a look of annoyance on her face at her husbands ignorance. She entered the room to find Tracer lying back on his chair, with a pistol in his hand.
Geofrey? She asked naively,
Oh, Yvonne. Don't worry, this is for my own protection-you see your husband has just told me he intends to kill the protestors.
Yvonne started to fall, but propped herself against a cabinet.
W-W-What!? Her voice croaked as she spoke, confused.
You heard me right, I beleieve that right now he is talking to General Pinochét about the matter
Yvonne looked deepy into the mans eyes, realised he was not lying and collapsed in a curled mess on the floor. She made a pretty loud noise for a petite girl, but still Tracer left her, making his way towards the stars. As he put his foot on the step and the silence of the office was broken. Two gunshots, broken only by screams and shreiks, then a third devastating blast came from above the floors of the building.
Tracer hung his head, and opened the door allowing the sight of death into the offices of parliament. As he releaced the door and gawped at the two men who lay on the floor, he was stunned. A cold shooting sensation in his stomach, he loooked down, saw blood and looked up. He watched as a man with a gun squeezed the trigger once more, and then the pain in his calf. He fell to the ground.