NationStates Jolt Archive

I wish I woulda met you
Now its a little late
What you could of taught me
I could of saved some face
They think that your early ending was all wrong
For most part they're right
But look how they got strong
Thats why I say
Hey man nice shot
Good shot man
-Filter, Hey Man Nice Shot


Robert sat at the table in the small cafe in downtown Northampton, sipping a rather hot cup of coffee. He munched on a baggel as his companion spoke. "Think about it man. You as the leader of Imitora. The only person really qualified to run this place. F*ck Christin, you could be the First Speaker."

Robert nodded, and looked off into the sky. "But how? I've always been the killer, not the leader. What the hell am I supposed to do?" He leaned back, and placed his hand on the leg of a female sitting next to him, and she placed hers on his, squeezing gently.

"Let me take care of getting you into the running, then it'll be set."

"What do you mean?" he asked, sipping the coffee.

"Well, I'll get you into the running, then you do what you do best. Win the election."
________


Now that the smokes gone
And the air is all clear
Those who were right there
Got a new kinda fear
You fight and you were right but the were just to strong
They stick it in your face
And let you smell what they consider wrong
Thats why I say
Hey man nice shot
Good shot man


First Speaker leaned back in his chair, face in his hands. All across the nation, pictures of him having sex with young girls, prostitutes, young boys, and an emmisary from Adejaani. His wife had already taken the children and left, promising him that his life was now worth shit. And cammera crews were setting up infront of him to tape his resignation speech.

The lead cammera man gave him the thumbs up, and he began to speak. "My fellow Imitorans..." he stopped. He couldn't do it. The words wouldn't come from his mouth. He looked around the room, wondering what the hell he was doing. The cammera men looked on confused.

"I'm sorry. Good bye," was all he said. The ISS had installed a underdesk mounted holster holding a short barrled .357 Revolver. He removed it, and pointed it at the cammera. "Sophie, I love you. Connor, Ryan, do what mommy says, ok? I'll see ya soon," he said. He placed the gun in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.

Before any one could move to stop him, blood, bone, and brain matter had splattered on the wall behind him, and what was left of his head slumped down on the desk. Blood pooled on the desk infront of his skull. By the time the camerra man had figured out to turn off the cammera, the image had been broadcasted live into every home in Imitora.

Robert was standing in the back of the room. He walked out the door after placing his aviator style sunglasses over his eyes.
_____________________________________________

John looked at the letter. He had been nominated to run as the Progressive Candidate in the upcomming elections. It wasn't somethign he could just turn down, even if he knew how far the elction could go. He looked at the picture of Lizzy, Ashley, and him sitting in the park.

He would be allowed to rule Imitora from Noropia. He had his own regiment of Colonial Marines to protect him, and he trusted all the King's men. He noted his opponents, Robert and some other guy, and replied with an acceptance to the elections.
_____________________________

The Candidates:

Robert Fortier: Former INSC, Robert has served, in one way or another, every President or First Speaker since President John Ngyuen. He served a full nine years in the Imitoran Special Operations Units, including INSA units. A hard line nationalist, Fortier is very heavy leaning to a neo-isolationist policy, but more involvement on situations which effect Imitora.

Duke John Ngyuen: Ngyuen is running for the Progressive Party. More central leaning then Fortier, John was also the second President of Imitora. John wants to keep Imitora on the track it is now, and not make any major changes. He cuurently resides in Noropia, and will be allowed to rule the nation from there.

Ryan Masson: Ryan Masson is the standard communist running for office. Theres one in every election.

OOC: So go ahead, throw your support behind which ever you wish

bump

Emperor Johnston sat in shock as he stared at the ghostly image on his telivision.

The entire sex scandal had been bad but this brought it to a whole new level. Although he considered how this may turn for the better.

"Anne?"

"Yes Emperor?" His secretary replied

"Get me Gregor on the phone." He waited several moments before he heard the line click.

"Whats up?"

"G-Unit this is Alpha Dog"

"Go ahead. The line is secure."

"Good. You have a job. In an hour go to the nearest European bank and withdraw 10 million dollars, trust me, it will be there. Then I have arranged for a high-speed transport to Imitorta, you will give the money to a mister Ryan Masson. Tell him who its from, also tell him there is more if he decides to do a few things for me once in office."

"Roger that."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later Gregor deposited the money and headed for his transport destined for Imitorta.

Mason accepted the money, and sent an official corespondance of thanks, but, of course, didnt keep it. Instead, he distributed it among the people, and used a very minute amount to pay for a campaig commercial.

OOC Tag for now...

((tag for now...of course, though, I'll be voting for His Grace the Duke of Chateau ;)))

:TAG for now, as who I support will be entirely dependent on who wins the election...

as will your fate, Ianisle, just a heads up.:

*kid runs out with a can of spray paint, starts tagging the thread*

*pop pop*

*Cop runs out with a tazer, shoots and drags the kid away...*

bump

Emperor Johnston looked over the message. Satisfied with Gregor's work he gave him a call telling him what to do next.

Gregor?

Go ahead.

I want you to watch this campaign for a while. If things go wrong for our candidate give me a call. i will tell you what to do from there. Our money wont win the election so I will be expecting your call at some point.

Okay. The line went dead.

Two weeks in, and with elections to be held this wensday, the following numbers have been released to the public on voter suport:

Nguyen-50%
Fortier-40%
Mason-10%

It is not sure how much longer Mason will be in the running, but it is believed that, unless he manages to get another 10% before the final run, he will remove himself from the running.

bump

OOC: tell me if what I'm posting wont work out.

IC: Emperor Johnston was furious. All the money and only 10% in the polls! Something had to be done.

Gregor walked down the street on a mission that was no stranger to him. He held his gun close and he made his way towards the target. He felt the Emperor's actions were drastic but necissary to get the message across to the voters.

Finally he came to the home of Nguyen. He picked the lock and entered, gun raised.

OOC2: Will Nguyen have guards?

OOC: tell me if what I'm posting wont work out.

IC: Emperor Johnston was furious. All the money and only 10% in the polls! Something had to be done.

Gregor walked down the street on a mission that was no stranger to him. He held his gun close and he made his way towards the target. He felt the Emperor's actions were drastic but necissary to get the message across to the voters.

Finally he came to the home of Nguyen. He picked the lock and entered, gun raised.

OOC2: Will Nguyen have guards?

It was a typically quiet day in Chateau. Summer had given way to autumn, and the air was just starting to take on a cold nip. In another few months, the harbor would be frozen solid and the ground littered with snow. Already, Rear Admiral Paul, Commander Northern Seas Area, had taken his command around the horn to Turnish and Royal had moved their operations south of the Cape.

Noropia was one of the least affected of all the Dominions by the great technological revolution that was sweeping over the Commonwealth. Life continued much as it always had, at least in the East. Turnishire, Cape Deliverance, and the rest of the western duchies had to balance the insatiable demands of Royal Mining and Manufacturing for more and more high grade coal, but Chateau remained unaffected by the great corporations of the Shield.

The ancient Ducal Manor, in which resided John Lord Chateau, who had once been John Nguyen of Imitora, stood at one end of Evergreen Square, opposite Assembler’s Hall. Two men in the blue and gold of the Noropian Militia stood watching, with a faint trace of bemusement, as a shifty-eyed outlander crouched in front of the great wrought iron gate trying to pick the heavy, ancient lock.

At last one managed to stop laughing. He went up and prodded the man with the butt of his rifle. “Right, that’s enough. Shove off, then.”

OOC: Certain things said in this post are IC only IMan, just so ya know, lol.

IC:

While the Noropians stood around joking, five men, wearing the black suits and crimson ties of the Imitoran Secret Service moved quickly forward to the gate, side arms raised. It coulnd't be said anywhere that Imitorans lacked security. Noticing the gun, one man shouted an order out, leveling his weapon to aim on Gregor's head. "You have five seconds to leave before I open fire!"

He was angry that the Noropian Gaurds had let the man get this close, and were just about ready to shoot them as well. It was, in their opinion, a waste of time, and a serious safty issue, to have the Noropians around. However, John wanted them around, so they stayed, despite the fact that the ISS dispised their presence.

On the roof top, another ISS agent, in fashionable tactical black took aim at the man's head with a sniper rifle, the custom bolt action able to place the .300WinMag into a dime sized target at just under a mile. At this range, the man's head would all but disapear on impact.

Hearing the orange code over their ear pieces, several ISS agents all but exploded into the room where John and Lizzy were sitting with their young daughter, Ashely. Two tackled John, and shielded him, and another pulled down Lizzy, as well as a third covered Ashely. Weapons were all drawn. Two more, dressed in tactical gear, burst into the room, and shattered a window, covering the back field behind the mansion with assault rifles.

Out front, the five ISS agents waited, counting to five in their heads, waiting for Gregor to move.

bump

Gregor saw the guns. He knew this was the end. At least he was dying a glorious death.

He threw his gun apon the ground. This gave him only enough time to detonate the bomb strapped to him.

The explosion was very large. It had the explosive power of 30 grenades. The target may not die but that was not the point.

As this scene unravelled a message was sent for the target. It stated plainly that if he didn't drop out of the race, next time he wouldn't be so lucky.

A ways away Masson was also receiving a message. It read:

Ryan, I expected more from you. Win this election or you will be eliminated just as your opponent was.

John didnt see anything as teh agents covering him kept him pressed low. At the sound of the explosion, they had decided enough was enough. "Red Justice, Red Liberty, Red Peace! Hit the back nine, five iron!" one agent shouted into his mic mounted in the lapel of his coat. Red Justice, Red Liberty, and Red Peace meant that the lives of John, Lizzy, and Ashley, respectively, were in serious danger, to the point where comprimising the lives of innocents and others was no longer a concern. Back nine was an airport, and five iron was the 555th Tactical Air Escort Wing.

They picked up John, Lizzy, and Ashley, and ran them, covered, to a garage they had installed. A heavily modified BMW 760il sat, running, and they were pushed into the back seat, the agents still covering them. The BMW took off. An airport that had been set up by the ISS, and secured by the 22nd SOTF, was a short drive away at 110mph, and the BMW reached it within minutes. The three were inturn ushered, or more of forced, onto a waiting CV-22(IP), which then took off, and was escorted by a full squadron of 12 F-82C Angels. The location was the newly built Imitoran embassy in Larkinia (hope ya dont mind), which was secure by near a full company, or a little over 120, Marines from the 22nd.
________________________________

Mason didn't quite understand the message, and he crumpled up the piece of paper, and threw it out. He went back to looking for black marks on his oponents' records. However, someone else had heard news of John's attempted assasination, and Mason didn't hear the sound of the INSA assault team moving silently through his own home. He never felt, heard, nor saw, the 5.7mm DU Casless rounds that ripped into his body.

One of the assaulters, dressed in black, pulled a mic close to his mouth. "Red Dawn Down."

Robert, in his office building in Northampton smiled, and confirmed that he had recieved the message, then disconnected the line.

"Damnit! One friggin' mission and they blow it, he didn't get my goddamn message and he is untouchable now! On any other day I would just be pissed but now my canidate is dead! I wan't a full background report on teh two remainders in less than an hour or heads will role!!"

Anne, the Emporer's Secretary was used to outbursts but what Johnston was yelling about now made little sense. Candidates dead? Candidates untouchable? Se would look into what Gregor had been up to and see if she coud shed some light on this mystery. She got up and left Johnston alone.

As the Emperor watched her leave he reached under his giant oak desk and pressed a button he had hopd he never would have to. It was time time clean this mess up.

In teh polar regions of Largnt the Alpha Squad felt their vbrates go off at the same time. They all knew something had gone horribly wrong and blood would be shed.

In Imitora a man sat in a Cafe. He had specific orders not to interfere with the situation but he had t get to John before the Emperor did. With a plane ticket to Larkinia and a Imperial Stanp of Authority he headed to teh airport.

"Damnit! One friggin' mission and they blow it, he didn't get my goddamn message and he is untouchable now! On any other day I would just be pissed but now my canidate is dead! I wan't a full background report on teh two remainders in less than an hour or heads will role!!"

Anne, the Emporer's Secretary was used to outbursts but what Johnston was yelling about now made little sense. Candidates dead? Candidates untouchable? Se would look into what Gregor had been up to and see if she coud shed some light on this mystery. She got up and left Johnston alone.

As the Emperor watched her leave he reached under his giant oak desk and pressed a button he had hopd he never would have to. It was time time clean this mess up.

In teh polar regions of Largnt the Alpha Squad felt their vbrates go off at the same time. They all knew something had gone horribly wrong and blood would be shed.

In Imitora a man sat in a Cafe. He had specific orders not to interfere with the situation but he had t get to John before the Emperor did. With a plane ticket to Larkinia and a Imperial Stanp of Authority he headed to teh airport.

OOC: Fortier's background- Joins ICMC at 18. Thats all it'll say.

IC:

Robert slammed the slide closed, and then heard the beep of a stopwatch. A loud beep. He sat, or more correctly, currled himself up, removed the blind fold, pulled out ear plugs, and pulled a gag out of his mouth. He fell softly to the ground, landing on his feet, and looked down at the twin Berrettas. Perfectly assembled, in under 7 seconds. New record, he thought, and slid them into the back mouned holsters. He looked at his aide, and nodded. "Whats the news?"

"Mason is dead, and as by rules of the IEC (Imitoran Election Committee), all money in his name has been transfered to your account. All is pretty good. We got the best from the INSA going black around John, per your orders. No one can touch him. Although sir, I wonder?"

"Yeah?"

"Why dont you just let whoever is on this pop John? Automatic win, and all his cash?"

"Nah, Johns my buddy, I aint gonna kill him."

"Yes sir."

bump

With a plane ticket to Larkinia and a Imperial Stanp of Authority he headed to teh airport.

The location was the newly built Imitoran embassy in Larkinia (hope ya dont mind), which was secure by near a full company, or a little over 120, Marines from the 22nd.

((LOL, no problem Imi, mi casa es su casa.. or something to that effect. ;) I swear I think you have elections just so you can practice capping people... :P ))

No no no....yes.

OOC: Sorry, i won't be posting much, with finals and vacation you'll have to find someone else to RP the thread.