NationStates Jolt Archive

Ever the fashionable debutante.

Ever the gorgeous emperical.

Ever the selfserving Monarch.


Well, you see.


There was one point, a decade ago, when the Monarch turned ravenously upon Her own Nation. This was of course, after the former Fodian Administration was obliterated... In one fell Telegram (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=369621). There was no other way one such as Nokona could gain power.

The Communist Economy was obliterated in one deft swipe, as it was replaced by Libertarian Apathy. The Nation quickly degraded into a dog eat dog wasteland of lawlessness and disorder. The Monarch Herself was CEO of Kay Medical, the largest Arms Manufacturing and Medicinal Industry Conglomerate in Fodmodmadtol. It is through Her Economic Stake, how She delusions Herself into controlling over the uncontrollable. Nothing but misfortune for the Fodian Federation followed her ascension. This did however, gain her the monomer of the CEO Monarch.


Usually ...


In the morning, The Monarch Nokona, would be glowing in Her manufactured beauty. She would sit upon Her throne, Her sinister complexion done up with tremendous effort and falsities. Royal garb would be elegant, synthetics of only the highest price billowing around Her. Seemed orderly enough, although that as well came prefab. She would dine on a light breakfast of whatever She fancied, and discuss the finances of the Kay Medical Group with top Corporate Officials. Consuming every economic entity within Fod was of utmost importance, of course.

In the afternoon, Nokona would set Herself delicately in place in Her throneroom, serving as an ornament in Her own facade. Her court would cycle through stochastic entertainment before Her, as that was all She craved. A sedentary life of glory and magnificence had it's limits as to keeping occupied, after all. She would dine on a heavy lunch of whatever She fancied, and discuss suppressing opposition to the Royalists with top Monarchal Officials. No one can stand a pesky rebellion opposed to the Monarchy, after all- Freedom is such a silly thing.

In the evening, The Monarch would review Her Nation. She would personally slit the throat of any dissenter brought to trial, crush the stake of any conglomerate rivaling Kay Medical, and enforce the Monarchies will upon the entire populace. She would dine on a dinner of what She ordinarily ordered prepared this late in the day, and grin as She was treated to the spectacle of mass executions before her table.

She gave the term Baby-Eating Pig-Dog, a realistic embodiment. Content with the sufferings inflicted upon enough for the day, The CEO Monarch would fall to sleep easily, in a bed of fine French Linens. Dreams of absolute sloth, cruelty, and ecstasy would craddle Her softly in the night, protected from the ravings of what loomed outside the Royal Villa, in the Nation of Fodmodmadtol.


... Well, This was Usually. Today was all together, Unusual.


Its really is a Surprise, once you think of it.

What the horrors of Time can present you with.

In all of one Moment. One, Brutal, Moment.

Tag

Tags this post

The heel of The Monarch clicked loudly in the empty corridor as She made Her way through the Villa. Normal amenities seem askew, imperial garb wrinkled, blushes absent, and a content neatness missing. Her gaze is locked straight ahead as She continues down the corridor, glassed over.

"They're after you..."

The Monarch stopped. Not out of surprise, but as if a close friend had joined Her and wished to consul. Heat. She focused back into reality, and became engrossed with where She found Herself. An hour or so of wandering within the Villa had led Her to find a most astonishing something.

A Fireplace. Its yawning hearth of marble, ornate in its grandeur, seems as if it could contain a lions den. Flames dance in a rhythmic ballet of feathering oranges, whites and reds, in utter silence. Pokers are placed in the Fire, sticking out at odd angles to give the impression of a cavernous mouth with jagged fangs. She steps nearer, and rests Her hand on one of the many pokers jutting from the blaze.

"You must quell the rioting... They've breached the walls of your sanctum... Quell the rioting before the infidelity taints your Empire... You must quell the rioting... Child, you must work-"

The Monarch spoke in a voice which was resonant of venomous honey. "The Sun does not need to listen to the Sky. Leave me be-"

"My Sun?"

A crisp Servant had appeared at Her side, startling Her as to snap back to reality. Her stare instantly locked onto the Servant, tilt of the head slightly to the side. She narrowed her eyes.

"Servus. Should the Infidel meet with Lord Dread?"

"My Sun, the Kay Medical-"

"I asked you a question, Servus. Should the Infidel meet with Lord Dread?"

The Servant met with Her gaze momentarily, before casting his eyes to the floor. The Monarch smiled slightly, and took the Servant's chin gently in hand, lifting it so he could connect with Her line of sight.

"Infidel... Never look directly into the Sun. Your eyes could never take the burning caused by such a fatal error."

The Servant froze. "My Sun... What do you-"

Flame cartwheels as the poker in hand was drawn from the fire in expert precision. Drawn back, the white hot metal flared and sparked in divine pyrotechnics. With the expertise of a prize fencer, the searing javelin was driven into the Servants eye, tissue sizzling on its tip as it exploded from the back of his skull. Gargled screaming escalated with a twist of the poker, dragging the Servant over nearer the hearth, and with a heavy swing he was cast into his own personal Hell.

"Tell me Servus, as you writhe in your deserved agony. If even a lowly Slave such as yourself dare look upon me as if your equal, how pray tell, do legions of yourself look upon me?"

The Servant continued screaming, hoarse and erratic, as he convulsed within the burning ash, reason abandoning him as well as coherent thought, flames licking over his remaining sight, sparing room only to frame The Sun.

"The Earth revolves around me... I am The Sun. Yet you still dare to look me in the eye as if I'm as desperate a soul as yourself. I wonder, if you dare do this... What does The Earth dare to do."

The inferno roared higher, enveloping the Servant wholly and finally.

"Child... You have work to do."

"The Sky needs to learn its place. The Earth needs to learn respect for The Sun."

Message to the "Civilised"

The Fodian Empire will not stand by as I am mocked by those who see The Sun as something that is their equal. I will not tolerate the heathens clawing at the walls of my inner sanctum, nor will I the berating of my Imperial Dynasty. The Sun, I, am not to be unseated in my own domain. The heresy of The Earth will not be tolerated, and The Sun will strike down all that oppose I. The time to reassert The Sun over My blood right domain is nigh, and all that stand in My way will be crushed.

As of now the Militaristic dynamo that is the Empire is thriving and in full effect. The Armies of the Sun will trample upon those who resist the assimilation of their theft back into the Proper Empire. This is a warning to all those who claim to be Civilised, that the true order of The Sun is coming to reclaim Her lost domain. The fires of The Sun will embrace the Wicked.

-The Sun

----

Two people are rustling through a Ministry Office only an hour after that Message had been relayed to all Nations abroad. The evening swaths all in complete dark.

"Clerk, have all of my assets transferred to the designated area in Protocol Two. I'll be leaving the Ministry this evening."

"Yes, Minister."

"If I'm to blame for what Nokona is bringing upon us... Ever since the Monarchy, the Ministry had been nothing, yet continued to live. Our attempts to orchestrate the Federation are never seen..."

"Minster, we're still something."

"I cringe at your ignorance... Clerk. When I leave the Nation tonight, I want you to board the first flight out of Fod. Take whatever you need from Finances, they'll understand. Take your family somewhere nice... The Island of Rose is brilliant this time of year."

"Minister, I will not leave Fod with your absence. Something must be done about... Nokona."

"Clerk, that's why I'm leaving. Nothing can be done about Her within Fod, no, but there are others. I'm leaving for the Fodian Districts in the Roman States. I'll see what I can do from there. I want you to leave as well."

"Understood, Minister."

][ A simple bump. ][

][ Bumping bump. ][

Sergei's eyes widened as soon as he saw the message. "Why wasn't I alerted to this?! Why hasn't IRIS kept an eye on this?!"

What is IRIS exactly? The Imperial Rosian Intelligence Service. It was a mix of Mossad and CIA tactics. They were above the law. So stereotypical of them correct? Want to hear something even funnier? No, but I'm going to say it though. The real operatives had numbers, their leader was Mr. 1. Yes, I could not think of a real name. They had operatives in every country. Not so much in Fodmodmadtol, they thought that the land of Fod was normal. Normal by Rosian standards anyway. But it wasn't. And now, a very angry ex-President Foreign Minister man is... angry.

"But sir." said Mr. 1 "We had to focus our resources elsewhere. The troubles in Spain. The invasion of Algeria, revolutions left and right. We couldn't focus on an ally."

Sergei raised his brow. "An ally doesn't tell the world that She will smite all that She says. Even worse, it's a religious nutso."

Mr. 1 chuckled. "Aren't you Roman Catholic?"

Sergei nodded. "Yes. But there's a difference. I believe in God, I don't believe that I am God, you know? The fact of the matter is, that she is a nutso. Thus, we need to contain her. Tell Wilhem-" Our lovely Counciller of Defense. "-to stop all Fodian military ships from leaving Fodmodmadtol. I need to speak to her first."

Mr. 1 raised his brow. "You're not President anymore Sergei."

Sergei chuckled. "When he sees what I saw, he'll agree with me. Trust me."

Mr. 1 nodded, sighed, took the message, and left. After a few minutes, he arrived to tell Admiral Wilhem von Sturben, our Counciller of Defense, of the situation in the land o' Fod. Wilhem, for lack of a better word, freaked out. Now this would be the part that I would list which fleets were launched. But since this part of the forums does not like numbers, I will refrain from listing any numbers. Yes I know, brave of an IIer I should be proud! But enough of the sarcasm, let's continue the story hm?

After Wilhem was alerted, he launched ships. Hundreds of them... okay that's a lie. Just 100 ships. Damn I listed a number! Damn me, now God will smite me to hell! Let's continue. The 100 ships spread out across Fodmodmadtol, trade of course wasn't bothered. A message was sent:

To: The "Sun"
From:The Rosian Counciller of Foreign Affairs, Sergei Ilyanov

Do you know who I am? My name is Sergei Ilyanov, former President of the Island. Do you know what you are bringing to your nation? Death, destruction, chaos. We have spies in Fodmodmadtol, not many. But enough to know the way the People are treated. Do you know why other Empires have fallen? Sometimes by way of military conquest, but most of the time it was due to the treatment of the People. That's how the French Empire fell. That's how the Roman Empire would've fallen. That's how the Soviet Union fell. That's how the British Colonies became free. The People. You disillusion yourself, your Empire is weak. You are truely the Sun. And you will grow too big to maintain yourself, and your center, you, will implode. Are you willing to risk everything due to your insane plans? Or will you listen to the voice of reason, where is the Nokona I used to know, the one who cared for her People? I request a meeting with you, and there will be a meeting. Unless you want burning villages by tonight. Look at your television. God Bless You.
Sergei Ilyanov
Counciller of Foreign Affairs

Sergei sighed. "A new era in History will end, and a new will begin..."

"Whoever said, 'Don't shoot the messenger,' is missing out on too much..."

The Sun let the crossbow fall to the floor, as a child growing bored with Her toy. The Servant on the receiving end of said bow, now pinned to the door and draining a profuse amount of fluids, was unfortunate enough to be the Messenger.

The pool of blood spread quickly over the floor, and as The Sun turned to head towards her chambers, it graced her heel. She stopped, glancing down to what was lapping against her shoe, a look of utter disgust manifesting.

"Why is it... Messy. Gah. Its staining everything."

She quickly turned to face the dying Messenger, and held Her leer trained to his middle.

"Look at what you've done now. Soiling my shoe... You think you're going to get off easy? You think that just because you're dying you're excused from your duties, Servus? ...Not a chance."

The Sun took a hold of one of the many arrows sticking through the Messengers middle, and wretched it free, a chasm of blood following with a gargled scream. She smiled, and dropped the arrow, placing bloodied hands on her hips. The Servant was then still.

"Didn't last too long... Shucks. Maybe next time you'll learn to bring Hershey's with my Mail. Yes?"

And, somehow, a meeting was arranged with Sergei Ilyanov. ...Let us pray he brings chocolate.

----

"What do you mean, ships?"

"Well... One hundred Rosian ships have entered Fodian Territory."

"You've told me that. I want to know what kind of ships."

"Well, that we don't know."

"Why not, pray tell."

"...Would you accept, 'Because we're fleeing the Nation,' as an appropriate answer?"

"...Perhaps. Only if you can tell me... What Nation are we fleeing?! Hmmm?!"

"Fod?"

"I'm not telling- And how dare you mention a number!"

The Minister huffed, and occupied himself with the Flight Safety Manual.

The Fodian Empire will not stand by as I am mocked by those who see The Sun as something that is their equal. I will not tolerate the heathens clawing at the walls of my inner sanctum, nor will I the berating of my Imperial Dynasty. The Sun, I, am not to be unseated in my own domain. The heresy of The Earth will not be tolerated, and The Sun will strike down all that oppose I. The time to reassert The Sun over My blood right domain is nigh, and all that stand in My way will be crushed.

As of now the Militaristic dynamo that is the Empire is thriving and in full effect. The Armies of the Sun will trample upon those who resist the assimilation of their theft back into the Proper Empire. This is a warning to all those who claim to be Civilised, that the true order of The Sun is coming to reclaim Her lost domain. The fires of The Sun will embrace the Wicked.

History...or Herstory if you prefer...is a chaotic enterprise. Where the past events determine all future events. As such, History does not repeat itself but just swings around the same set of attractors until finally an event causes it to jump from one set of attractors to another. The problem is that there might have been another History running around those attractors. And that another may have no inclination to be somehow dragged through another cycle. This is especially bad when someone starts issuing familiar sounding names...

Unfortunatly for the Sun, she had drawn the attention of a group of surviors who remembered "The Universal Star" unfortunatly that is how someone interpeted her title.

To: The "Sun"
From: The Eight Elder Houses of The Enclave

What is this "blood right dominon" that you claim? We wish to know if you place claim upon us.
We will also illuminate to you that "The Sun" is but a small star in a universe filled with them.
Do not claim too much, oh twinkly little star, else the Black Hole of fate shall exstinquish thy light.

After hearing that Sergei was invited to Fod, well he had to be invited, Sergei prepared his things. Not too much of course, it would be a short trip. One suitcase with some clothes and food. His money too. He was wearing something very rare for the occasion. A nice suit, a tuxedo. Black tie, he was coming seriously. Which was very rare as we all know. But enough about him eh?

The plane he was going to fly over was also different. He usually flew a fighter plane, but he wasn't landing in a runway... you'll see. It was the R/MF-41. A jump jet and an improvement over the F-35. It also looked quite sexy, but I'm not getting pictures! I'm too lazy, you should be lucky I'm even typing this up.

He boarded his fighter jet, his stuff inside an empty bomb under the plane. He took off, or more accurate jumped and jetted to Fodmodmadtol. As soon as it reached the Fodian coast, Sergei could see a lot of boats. Naval boats, all aiming at the mainland. And hundred of jets flying around, providing cover for the might be soon hostile fleet. All and all, it was a good day.

Sergei flew down, protected by R/F-91s (the Rosian fighter plane) he flew inside Fodmodmadtol. Unopposed, for the purpose of this RP. The destination? The roof of the Imperial Villa. Owned by the "beautiful" CEO Nokona of Fodmodmadtol, also the Monarch. As soon as the roof was in sight of Sergei, he touched down vertically (duh), stopped the engines, opened the cockpit, took off his helmet, stepped down, patted his pocket (for there was a weapon in there that will be revealed in due time), and walked towards the door that led down towards the floors. He found an employee heading towards the roof to which he said to the employee.

"Take me to the Sun, I have an appoitment with her." Fin.

What is this "blood right dominon" that you claim? We wish to know if you place claim upon us.

We will also illuminate to you that "The Sun" is but a small star in a universe filled with them. Do not claim too much, oh twinkly little star, else the Black Hole of fate shall exstinquish thy light.

"Ah. The first challenger to The Sun's right..."

Ludvik, Papacy of Twilight, former Minister of Defense. The right hand man to The Sun, director of the militaristic might of Fod, and implementer of Elitist Orbit. Since the Dawn, Ludvik had been there.

Ludvik is a strapping officer, now of his late thirties. Experience of the battlefield is engrained within his eyes- Dark, seducing chance, tinted fuschia. His hair is far from closely cropped, of a brownish blonde color. His demeanor is rigid and stern, a large, but slender frame.

He was brimming with passion. A much less eloquent message was sent.

----

The Unworthy,

The claim of The Sun is all that Her light shines upon, whether is be illuminating or scathing to whatever its cast to.

The Papacy

Message to the "Civilised"

The Fodian Empire will not stand by as I am mocked by those who see The Sun as something that is their equal. I will not tolerate the heathens clawing at the walls of my inner sanctum, nor will I the berating of my Imperial Dynasty. The Sun, I, am not to be unseated in my own domain. The heresy of The Earth will not be tolerated, and The Sun will strike down all that oppose I. The time to reassert The Sun over My blood right domain is nigh, and all that stand in My way will be crushed.

As of now the Militaristic dynamo that is the Empire is thriving and in full effect. The Armies of the Sun will trample upon those who resist the assimilation of their theft back into the Proper Empire. This is a warning to all those who claim to be Civilised, that the true order of The Sun is coming to reclaim Her lost domain. The fires of The Sun will embrace the Wicked.

-The Sun

"Aren't they in that orbit thing?" asked Admiral Lancer, sipping thick coffee out of a large mug. "Elitist something or other? Whatever. Not our ball."

Somewhere on the surface of the planet, a message went back to Fod.

To: To: the Fodian Government
From: the Diplomatic Service, Weyr

We find such overly hostile proclamations highly alarming, and request a clarification of your intentions, especialy regarding the orbital platforms that are part of what you call Elitist Orbit. Please be advised that any hostile actions against the Kingdom or its parts should be preceeded by a warning period of at least twenty-four (24) hours.

Sincerely,
Josiah Willard Gibbs
Consul-General

Sergei had landed on the roof of a section of the Villa, not quite the Imperium itself. Unlucky for him, Sergei just had to go for the Tower of Steel and Glass instead of the Terra Cota Forum... Hmmm?

Employee? Yes. Servant? More so. All employees are the servants of the CEO Monarch! Sergei happened to stop Jane on the stairwell. She was a brisk and curt woman, defineatly of the corporate breed.

"Excuse me Sir, but you don't have access to this floor. This is Pharmecuetical Marketing, you'll have to leave this level at once."

She looked Sergei up and down, smug, and continued.

"Appointment, eh? Take these stairs all the way down, past Sewage Overflow Containment, the Hall of the Damned, and the Imperial Great Room. Take the corridor on the next level all the way until you hit the Torture Chambers, if you hit the Execution Chambers you've gone too far. There will be a door to your left, don't go in that door. Go into the door to your right, and head through Research and Development to the next stairwell. Go up three floors, then down six at the spiral leading off of that. Then you will enter the Labryinth. Sacrifice the Goat striaght ahead to appease the Minotaur. Then make a left, left, right, straight, left again, right, right, right, straight ahead, left, and run for the door! You'll find yourself in the IT department. Sacrifice the Goat straight ahead to appease Jeff, the PC guy, and sprint to the water cooler next to his office door. Behind the water cooler you will find a trap door. Dont go in it, but instead press the button above it which will swivel the bookcase behind you around to reveal another door. Dont take that either, but knock on it three times and do the hokey pokey. On the bookshelf will appear a bar of choclate-"

Breath!

"-Take that, and then get out of Jeff's office. That corridor will lead you to New Products Marketing. Sample the Valium, and tell them what you think."

Smile.

"Unless of course you're looking for the Imperial Villa. This is the Kay medical Sub-Bureau of Hesphaestus, we're adjacent to the Villa and often get confused. Although its quite easy to distinguish an Office Tower from a Roman Villa... Where was I? Oh, yes, take this down to Legal for me?"

She handed Sergei a manilla folder.

"Thank Susan!"

And with that Jane continued on her way. Luckily for Sergei, a large sign on the stairwell reading, "Imperial Villa," directed him down the hundred or so flights of stairs. No elevators. Pity.

----

We find such overly hostile proclamations highly alarming, and request a clarification of your intentions, especialy regarding the orbital platforms that are part of what you call Elitist Orbit. Please be advised that any hostile actions against the Kingdom or its parts should be preceeded by a warning period of at least twenty-four (24) hours.

"Polite. Hah."

----

The Unworthy,

Forfeit your theft and there will be no need for The Sun to demonstrate her authority over her realm.

The Papacy

----

Nutters...

Sergei looked inqusitively at the folder. He opened, finding nothing more then legal mumbo jumbo, nothing he should care about. "I'll just be putting this away." He said as he put it in his suit Pink Panther style. He looked at the giant sign, he was about to follow her directions too. Obviously Sergei is too smart for that. "For Libertarians they're very complicated." He said to himself.

He opened the door that led to the stairway. As he saw the massive amount of stairs he had to climb, excuse me-descend, his eyes widened. "Damn it I'm a fat man, I can't climb all of this." He said to himself. He took a deep breath, said the Lord's Prayer and thought If God loves me he will preserve the family jewels. He got on the handle of the stairs and started sliding down.

Whee!

His tie whipped around, hitting Sergei's face occasionally. His crotch was being choked by the handle. Yes I felt the need to add that detail. And his hair goes back, making him seem bald. If you haven't noticed now, he's Boris Yeltsin.

Ah!

As he reached the end, he jumped off hitting his head against a wall. Yes it left him a very large bruise. "Ow! That fucking hurt!" He shouted. He rubbed his bruise, and you would too. He wanted to cry too but he had to keep the dignity he had left. He reached for his suit and took out...

Dun dun dun!

The handle of a Rapier. A press of a button and a blade extended, becoming a Rapier. It's Rapier in a box! Whee! And no I do not care if it is not possible in real life, it's possible in NationStates. He saw the door that led out of the massive stairs, he bust that door down. Like that dude from SWAT did, anyone like that movie?

As soon as the door went down, he stepped in, waved his sword around and proclaimed....!

"Take me to Nokona!" Agh, Motherland!

----

The Unworthy,

The claim of The Sun is all that Her light shines upon, whether is be illuminating or scathing to whatever its cast to.

The Papacy

"My Lord...."

"Yes, Chancellor...I am trying to read up on New Shiron History..."

"Yes...Ah, some of the Houses have noticed a disturbing pattern..."

"What..."

The Overlord of the Var read the messages and then looked up quietly. "Hmm...I don't like this. But let us mess with their heads a bit. I want to see what they do when we screw around with their nomenclature a bit.

"My Lord?"


To: The Papacy,
From: The Indeterminate Light Source

The Sun claims " all that Her light shines upon" yet that is the entire universe. How shall we know what is rightfully Hers and not Vega's, Rigel's, Or Deneb's? How can one star claim what many stars shine upon?

The Unworthy,

Forfeit your theft and there will be no need for The Sun to demonstrate her authority over her realm.

The Papacy

The Weyrean response was just...silence. Admiral Fara Ito Lancer wanted to drop a sun into their lap. The concul-General wanted to ignore the whole thing. The result was complete and utter...silence. In her command counch, in the theater-like CIC of the WSGS Necessary Evil, she pondered detonating a Small Star over Hesphaestus, just for the hell of it.

"Sergei. Where's the chocolate."

Twitch.

"I know you have chocolate Sergei. I know you do. Hand it over- And for My sake- Put that thing down!"

The Sun swatted at Sergei a bit until he lowered the rapier.

"You're going to poke someone's eye out with that, and then I'm going to get a class action suit, be called to court, and will have to put up with a Jury. Do you know how many people enjoy Jury Duty, Sergei? Not that many!"

She waved dissuasively, and motioned for Sergei to come in. Even though he had just burst from a door labeled "Super Secret Kay Medical Production Area Where No One Especially a Rosian Figurehead Should Be Allowed To Prance About Gleefully," if Sergei had chocolate, anything was forgiven.

"I was on my way up to Jeff's Office. He had fondue. But now that you're here, if you have chocolate that is, we can just forget you ever burst from that door and sidle off into the Salon. You do have chocolate, don't you?"

----

The Unworthy,

Hands off our poetically inclined nomenclature! We're not responsible for the biological clock of our Monarch.

The Papacy

IDFI Operations Cell, Crown Guard High Command, somewhere in the Iluvauromeni Commonality of Everlasting Light

A flexisheet passed from one hand to another. Eyes drift; sparks fly from neuron to neuron, quantum calculations determining the space between the zeroes and ones, creating thought and patterns of thought that lead to a single spoken sentence...

"Another brown flag turns red."

It was the same story, again and again. Some nations saw fit to deploy intelligence operatives on the ground here, there, and everywhere. Some were even unfortunate enough to attempt to do the same in the Commonality. Invariably, they were watched. Invariably, they believed they were not being watched.

And inevitably, they went home again, carrying false information supplied by false moles and false converts to whatever foreign cause was the flavour of the week this week. IDFI, and the larger umbrella organisation, NIOUA, did not miss things. They were not paid to miss things. They were paid to find things.

And with unfailing, even annoying efficiency, they did so. Satelites were the prime source of information, these days; communications always travelled via electromagnetic means, and nobody knew electromagnetism as the Iluvauromeni did - except perhaps Weyr, recent intelligence suggested. Perhaps.

At any rate-

The Controller saw no reason why ICEL should involve itself in this insanity. All the same, she decided to forward an advisory regarding the nation to all ICEL assets outside the Commonality - or, rather, have a subordinate do so.

She sighed, and wished for a nice, hot cup of coffee. Just one...

And some cheddar.

"Sergei. Where's the chocolate."

Twitch.

"I know you have chocolate Sergei. I know you do. Hand it over- And for My sake- Put that thing down!"

The Sun swatted at Sergei a bit until he lowered the rapier.

"You're going to poke someone's eye out with that, and then I'm going to get a class action suit, be called to court, and will have to put up with a Jury. Do you know how many people enjoy Jury Duty, Sergei? Not that many!"

She waved dissuasively, and motioned for Sergei to come in. Even though he had just burst from a door labeled "Super Secret Kay Medical Production Area Where No One Especially a Rosian Figurehead Should Be Allowed To Prance About Gleefully," if Sergei had chocolate, anything was forgiven.

"I was on my way up to Jeff's Office. He had fondue. But now that you're here, if you have chocolate that is, we can just forget you ever burst from that door and sidle off into the Salon. You do have chocolate, don't you?"

----

The Unworthy,

Hands off our poetically inclined nomenclature! We're not responsible for the biological clock of our Monarch.

The Papacy

Sergei looked at the folder in his pocket. As he took it out, a small Hershey's bar slipped out, but Nokona couldn't see this. "Oh yes." He took it out. "Here's your chocolate." He put it on top of the folder. "And here's some legal papers I guess..." He handed it to Nokona.

"Anyway..." Yes. "I have come here today so that you can see common sense." He cleared his throat. "Now, why? Why are you threatning the entire world with war? I don't care if you're High Imperator, I command you to stop! I have an entire Armada ready to strike you down. You know, I know, that you can't win. Now stop this insanity."

He took out a remote control. It had one blue button on it. "Do you know what this button does? It controls a satellite capable of launching a focused sun beam towards a location. If I press this button, the Kay Medical building will be destroyed. And I'm sure you don't want that eh?" He chuckled. "Now stop, and apologize."

((OOC: I really do have a laser satellite. But if it's godmodding, sorry. Just wanna add drama...!))

"For a man who was in such a high and mighty position, you're certainly sloppy with your diplomatic skill."

Nokona took the folder, and let the chocolate bar fall to the floor. Sergei was in the same room? No way! Do tell.

"First off, Sergei, I'm not the High Imperator of The New Roman Empire. I wanted, and want, nothing to do with that rubbish."

Nokona grinned, and opened up the legal folder, riffling through some of Susan's paperwork. She looked back up to Sergei to spare a wink, turned on heel, and began to walk away from him down the narrow corridor to The Great Hall.

"Are you coming or not? I suppose you want an explanation- Can it get any warmer in here... Where the fuck do these people get off with the furnace on so high! I'm about to broil."

"For a man who was in such a high and mighty position, you're certainly sloppy with your diplomatic skill."

Nokona took the folder, and let the chocolate bar fall to the floor. Sergei was in the same room? No way! Do tell.

"First off, Sergei, I'm not the High Imperator of The New Roman Empire. I wanted, and want, nothing to do with that rubbish."

Nokona grinned, and opened up the legal folder, riffling through some of Susan's paperwork. She looked back up to Sergei to spare a wink, turned on heel, and began to walk away from him down the narrow corridor to The Great Hall.

"Are you coming or not? I suppose you want an explanation- Can it get any warmer in here... Where the fuck do these people get off with the furnace on so high! I'm about to broil."

Sergei chuckled. "I was born to be a President, not a Diplomat." He raised his brow. "So you have an explanation why you're going crazy, this I want to hear."

He watched as Nokona walked down the hall. "I'm coming. Now, what I'm doing is aggressive diplomacy. But you're so wrapped in running your country, that you don't know the fun ways of threatning a nation." He chuckled and started following her. "But of course, you know all hm?"

A deft smack served to Sergei. Alliteration, oui?

"How dare you call me crazy. I am perfectly sane, and if you cannot see that Sergei than I must accuse you of being horrifically inept at living, and would suggest you cease in doing so."

And with that, Nokona tossed the papers at Sergei and continued down the corridor, exiting into The Great Hall. [ Ooo. Aaa. ]

Its a sprawling, circular room, of magnificent Old-School Imperialist opulence. Italian porcelain tile of warm earthly hues, cathedral plaster ceilings adorned in a fresco of the tortured Saint Sebastian, magnificent Corinthian columns of marvelous red rising fluted around the edges of the room, arches between to lead out onto an open verandah on all sides. In the middle of this spectacular shrine, there was a shallow circular platform, rising just a few inches above the floor in the same rich material of porcelain. In the center of this platform, there is a nest of pillows situated. Ornate, luxurious things, bold colors and creeds, indefinably variegated. Above this hangs a banner, long and white and falling to just a few feet above the arrangement of comfort, bearing- Oddly enough- The Seal of the East Fodian Theocracy.

Many Servants, distinguishable by their ordinary black uniforms, hustled through this most sacrosanct area to other places within the Villa. Also, Employees, differentiated by their stiff corporate dress. A dull murmur was always masking The Great Hall, it living up to its title as a hub of the Villa. [ Being Great, and whatnot. ]

The Sun, of course, looked upon this with an ordinary eye.

"When I spoke, I mentioned that I was not High Imperator. That is what I was referring to, Sergei. I am sane enough as you will ever be... But that's an entirely different matter if that's what you're here to discuss. I wasn't-"

Deep breath in.- "Warned!" -As she shouted to everyone within hearing.

"-That you would be visiting. I assumed you were here on Regional business when you said that."

Glance back to Sergei, slight tilt of the head.

"However, if you're here to consul of my Blood Right..."

Sergei did one of these numbers (-.-) and shook his head. "I came to talk about your Blood Right." Then he thought to himself. Jackass.

Sergei cleared his throat. "I don't know much about your religion, the Dossiers said it is a mix of Eastern and Western beliefs, but we haven't looked into it. But that's besides the point."

He sighed. "Now, why are you declaring war on the world? What are you exactly trying to conquer? Why don't you try to help your people? We've seen your "army" in action. It's not much. You and I both know that the Rosian Armed Forces are better."

He continued. "So use the money to help your people. It's not worth it for some land you can buy off some third world country, right?"

"Why am I doing this? Why?! Because it is my right!"

Fists clenched as She stormed away from Sergei to the platform in the middle of The Hall, snapping back to face him as She stepped up into her morass of luxury.

"Those who live within my Conglomerate are nothing! Why would I care what happens to them? You might think there is a great irony in me saying this, as I stand as CEO of Kay Medical. The truth is- I don't care what happens to them! Humans are greedy, selfish things that are below myself. They will do whatever it takes to spare them a few more years of life! Anything! And this is what Kay Medical is founded on! The desperation of Earth!"

The Sun was breathing heavily now, red in the face from shouting. Her jaw was tight as She stared Sergei down.

"How dare you contest the nature of my Army. Much has changed since Fod was Communist, Sergei. Much. Yet you Pinko-Bastards see nothing so clear as that! It is My right to all that I see, and I will enfore My right!"

Her voice was shaking, but not in a waver of stance. Never that.

"It is for My own, pure pleasure, Sergei. My own unadultered ecstasy."

((OOC: I hope I can attack you >_>))

Sergei chuckled. "Your right? Your right to abuse your people? Your right to think that you can conquer the world?" He scoffed. "Your remind of a man named Hitler."

He smirked. "It is not the pinkos that want you dead either. There are hundreds of nations that want to act, but they are not brave of enough to strike. The Empire meanwhile is." He sighed. "You have gone mad Nokona, your name is not the Sun. You are not a star, you are a human like me. A human Nokona, a human! Do not waste lives for you own pleasure."

He grunted. "Is there no way to save you, Nokona?"

"Your assumptions grow tedious. I would never intentionally degrade one unless they brought it upon themselves. If no one stands in My path then no one will be harmed." She sneered. "Hitler was a maniac having a midlife crisis. How dare you compare Me to anything else, let alone Hitler."

Utter disgust was portrayed ever so reverently. With this, The Sun would refuse to acknowledge Sergei as anything other than "It."

"It talks Myself down to the ranks of the Unworthy. It is lower than that. It says I am to be saved... It stands in the way of My right. Thus... It must be dealt with accordingly."

The Sun smiled, and tilted her head to the side as for her bangs to shield her eyes from Sergei. Slightly seductive if nothing else.

"It has one choice."

Smile wide, Sergei. Smile wide.

Sergei scoffed. "Don't even try."

Sergei was a faithful husband, and a good Catholic. Plus, he was used to seduction attempts on the Island.... yes people actually find him attractive. But no, Sergei never fell for them, and he wouldn't fall for this one. Plus Sergei wasn't as... youthful as he used to be. Yes, you know what I'm talking about.

He chuckled. "I'll leave you alone Nokona. It's obvious that you're a lost case."

He turned his back on Nokona, leaving the room. He followed the twisted halls and stairs. Up the stairs, take a left, a right, down the stairs and so on. These Fodians never could simplify things, nope. Then he got on the roof, boarded his R/MF-41 and took off on Mach 3.

As soon as he arrived on the Island, he stepped off his plane. Of course. He was driven to the Villa as fast he could be. There he was escorted to the Executive Office, where Frederick (a nervous man right now) was waiting for a response.

Sergei took a seat and sighed. "Useless. She won't listen to a damn thing."

Frederick groaned. "Damn it Sergei, damn it. I thought you said you could do this."

Sergei chuckled. "I guess I overestimate my diplomatic skills."

Frederick grunted. "So we have one hundred ships outside the coast of Fodmodmadtol, where a maniacal bitch is about to unleash her bitchiness on the world."

Sergei responded. "Yep."

Frederick sighed. "I guess I should tell the forces to prepare for an attack. Go Sergei."

Sergei chuckled and gave a mock salute, then he left.

Meanwhile, Frederick alerted the forces to prepare for an attack. Not to attack itself, because Fodmodmadtol hasn't given me permission yet. But my God, I want to attack! But I'll wait. And as they prepared, bombs were getting ready, planes being fueled, cannons and missile bays getting loaded, soldiers arming themselves, pilots getting breifings, a last overview of the map. The whole shtick.

Shit is going to go down. The bad kind.

Oh, how Rose has no taste for the NS style. Pity. He still owes me an RP though, in which chocolate and mildly obese women are involved.

Oh the subtlety of language and actions and how they can be misconstrued! Sergei had acted as if Nokona had craved to bed him! That thought couldn't have been farther from the least. Whats done is done, and what is wished shall never be.

"How dare It degrade me as such... Where is Ludvik!"

And Ludvik silently stepped up to her side.

"Ludvik, prepare the Royalists. Get it out of my Sanctum."

And so the order was given to the Royalist forces to prepare to make things explode, and whatnot and so forth, as explosions seemed to be the trendy thing to take part in nowadays.

Submarines departed port, those kinky decade old Soviet sorts with the leaking reactors. Jets took off into the skies, the cool beans sort of jet handed down from the Second World War. The Army even dispatched, consisting of a rag tag band of men in funny suits linked to the British Redcoats in nature. Oh. Boy. What a grand battle this will be.

Thank whoever is above that Ludvik had managed to keep Elitist Orbit away from Nokona, eh? Imagine that. Nokona at the helm of a Hirogen. Heh. It's funny, isn't it?

But what's this! A message?

----

"What the-"

"Don't curse now, Minister. You sacrificed that for Lent, remember?"

"I sacrificed a darned lot of things this Lent! I should be able to curse!"

"Did Jesus curse, Minister?"

A moment of silence.

"Yes, I believe he did Clerk."

"It doesnt change the fact that Rosian Forces are about to ARGH MOTHERLAND us back to ArchDuke Franz Ferdinand!"

"Does Nokona now anything about Elitist Orbit?"

"Sir, does she ever know about anything? Ever?"

"Good point- Woah. That cloud looks like a pony..."

And so the Clerk and the Minister would peer out of the window of their spiffin' Jet, to see the cloud which claims to look as if a pony.

----

The Island of Rose, Sergei Ilyanov, ADULTERING EMPEROR OF TIOR:

Good, the adress has caught your eye. Well, good. Do you mind not blowing Fod to the high heavens at the moment? We're entirely aware of the psychotic actions of our Monarch, but there's no need to smear us over the skies.

What would Jesus do?

Acting Minister Till
[in-transit: asylum: fodian roman states]

----

Oh, poor Rose, and his willingness to attack and invade! How he craves to blow things up! Foiled, perhaps, for now.

Frederick chuckled. "Fodian Intelligence must be horrible if they think Sergei is still the leader."

Official Reply:

Unfortunately for you, I'm not Sergei.
Frederick von Hattensberg

The attack would begin. First came the massive coastal bombardment. As the cannons turned and the missiles aimed, the sailors could only think one thing.... Yes! The first shots would be fired, and they were! My God it was a glorious sight! Missiles blinded the sun and the cannons caused a massive fog, all aiming at important targets that would cripple the Fodian state. Minus Kay Medical of course.... we like to lower civilian casualties you see.

But my God, it was a glorious sight! The sailors jeered as the Fodian coast was blown up to pieces! Yes it was so beautiful, death and destruction, it was an orgy! An orgy of blood and death... ah, we haven't had that in a long time. And after a few minutes, after thousands of missiles and hundreds of shells flew at the coast, it was over. But there was so much fog God knows what happened.

Thus begins the second stage.

Hundreds of aircraft, R/B-91s, R/F-91s, and R/MF-91s all armed with bombs and missiles began to fly into the landscape. By now any anti-aircraft devices should've been destroyed by the coastal bombardment. And what did they do? They bombed positions! Some went and bombed forts, others bombed enemy positions, and others bombed cities.... but the Kay Medical and Imperial Villa was a no no. Civilians, damn them.

Of course they still have to fight those jets up in the sky.

And now, the final stage. An invasion. The 4th Rosian Army from the Island was being sailed to the Armada for invasion. There would be a four pronged attack. One division from the north, one from the south, one from the east, and one from the west. Of course, this can't happen yet since the Rosian Army hasn't reached the boats yet.

Frederick chuckled. "This'll be over in minutes." He looked at the blue button that activated the satellite. "Ah yes.... we never had the thing pointed at Kay Medical, we had it pointed at that Elitist Orbit crap." He smirked as he played around with it. "Well, time to take out the only threat to us, I don't know the hell it is, but it's in space and I don't like it."

Click.

The satellite opened its freakishly huge mirror. As the mirror focused the sun's ray on the freakishly large diamond, it would produce a laser beam ala Nightlife. Or whatever the movie is called. After a few minutes the laser beam was finally ready. The satellite opened up and...

Zing!

A ray of light speeded towards Elitist Orbit, and whether it would work or not would have to be decided by Fodmodmadtol

That felt good, I don't have time for the subtlely of NationStates, I'm an IIer, wink.

"What the bloody-"

"What would jesus do, Minister!"

"Jesus would kick the Rosians in the teeth."

"...Can't argue with you there."

Ah. So The Minister and the Clerk had arrived in the Fodian Roman States.

What. A. Bloody. Mess.

So here they sat, in a sterile Consulate Office, at a trim and proper desk, looking out the window that sretched ceiling to floor. However gray the room was, the window had a beautiful view of- More gray. Another office building across the courtyard.

And this is where they sobbed. A tear for humanity, a tear for the Rosians, and a tear for the Fodians. And so their discussion will explain many things, and dissect this situation, and showcase how it is far from over.

"Okay. Calm. Calm. Calm."

"Clerk, this isn't a time to be calm. That message was meant for Sergei! We know bloody well he isnt in charge, but those Rosians have no sense for subtlety, and I cannot believe I am about to say this- Humour. At least that Fredrick Vandatramp... Git."

"Calm Calm Calm-"

"They bombed everything except for the Villa and Kay Medical... They destroyed everything except what needed to be destroyed. All of those people..."

And now a serious tone would descend upon this sterile locale.

"How idiotic could they be?! They destroyed all but key targets! Its as if it were inverse! How could they not hit Kay Medical?! Civilians?! That is the enemy. They are clueless when it comes to corporations! Sure they might have shot down a few of those crappy jets, but really!"

"Calm calm calm-"

"And of course that Bitch is now aware of Elitist Orbit... Going to be wondering what they were firing in BLOODY SPACE FOR. Gah. And they say Fodian Espionage is inept. The whole thing... We have bloody five Hirogen up there... And lets not forget the sixth, if it were even struck!"

"CALM CALM CALM-"

"What the fuck were they thinking?!"

And the Clerk had a stroke.

----

And meanwhile, in the Villa, Nokona echoed these exact words in a much different demeanor.

"What the fuck were the thinking?!"

God knows whether the laser worked or not. Of course, the satellite would be pounding the damn thing until it falls. Then it would have to destroy five other stations... not very fun. Even worse, they only had one satellite... take out the popcorn.

Meanwhile, the planes returned to their carriers and the ships had to have an ammunition refill. It would be thirty minutes until the damn things could fire, and even worse the planes had to get refueled and rearmed. So really the only thing protecting them were anti-aircraft guns and missiles on the ships. But hey there was a plus side.

The soldiers started to arrive.

The soldiers from the 4th Rosian Army were confident, some might say overconfident. Of course they were armed to the teeth, ready, young... well maybe there were some old people. But you get the picture... right? But of course there's a bad side to everything. They were just boarding the boats, then they had to get inside the LCACs that would then have to... drive on over to shore. Or maybe it's float. Or float with an engine, meh.

But of course Sergei was very furious. "Damn you Frederick!" He said. "Young bastard! He has no patience! Bah, the Empire will be destroyed!" He started pacing back and forth. "Fuck, I prey to God this goes in our favor."

And so he prayed.

Ah, the Rosians messed it up this time. Seven stations ready to attack at a moment's notice. Mass civilian casualties. No military gain. Yup, and all because of an impatient Rosian-German Imperial President. And you know that Frederick was praying to God, in Latin.

((OOC: Better? :( ))

][ I never intended to use them, but I would appreciate it if you went to edit the destruction of them away, seeing as how I poured too much love and devotion into that project for it to be wiped away by a single post. Besides, they're not all lined up like ducks. They're not even positioned so that a lazer, or multiple lazers, bearing on a straight course, could hit them all at once.

And I must say- MFS. You are sloppy. I mean- Wow. That was the single most disorderly invasion I have eva' seen eva'. :( Your IIer is CONSUMING YOU. Fight the good fight...! ][

((OOC: Yeah, I know. I feel like an idiot RPing with you. I'm surprised you're even RPing with me. I just did that post because I'm scared shitless of your Elitist Orbit. I'll edit it.))

((OOC: Fixed))

WSGS Necessary Evil
Earthbound Aerospace Control Zone
Geostationary Orbit over Weyr; Central Pacific
Terra

The command crew of the Sol Fleet was breaking out the popcorn, quite literally. Bags filled to overflowing with whitish-yellow flakes passed through the craft, as several thousand personnel hooked into the general data net to watch the Rosians and Fodians duke it out for no apparent reason.

Admiral Fara Ito Lancer sat in her command chair, money slowly flowing into her pay account for every moment spent warming that piece of advanced comfort technology, carefully pouring thick, creamy coffee over her tub of theater condiments. It was very tasty, the coffee and popcorn, mixed together in a mix of nice goodness.

The satellite opened its freakishly huge mirror. As the mirror focused the sun's ray on the freakishly large diamond, it would produce a laser beam ala Nightlife. Or whatever the movie is called. After a few minutes the laser beam was finally ready. The satellite opened up and...

Zing!

A ray of light speeded towards Elitist Orbit, and whether it would work or not would have to be decided by Fodmodmadtol

"And there it goes, ladies and gentlemen," the commtech's voice rolled through the WSGS Necessary Evil, that peachpit-shaped hull now getting live feed from a private satellite network maintained by the Guard, as data containing imagery of the assault streamed through the data nets of the small fleet gathered around the pancake-shaped station that was Earthbound. ”If you’re not on station, you just missed a hell of a big death ray!”

"Captain, there seems to be a Rosian Death Ray of sorts slicing up Marcus."

"Well, thats not very nice."

"Yes, well, they've asked for a little bit of help. They're getting torn up."

"Bah. Does it look like we have giant steel phalli of doom?!"

"Actually, we have three."

"I thought Nokona wasn't interested in that sort of thing... Manage a trois-"

"Captain! Please!"

"What? You're Catholic... You're used to that sort of thing. You're all a bunch of perverts if you ask me."

Blare of the trumpets! Introducing... Elitist Orbit! (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=387861) Not that I would ever use it against Rose-Kins of course, 'cause I like to have fun in a non-explody manner, but I can't very well have a Rosian Death Ray of sorts slicing up my precious Hirogen, now can I? Have to react somehow in an incapacitating manner.

So the Captain gave an order, and a giant steel phalli of doom was prepped for ejac- Hey, its a word I tell you! Can't I use it in another context? Can't I? Oh, very well then. I'll watch myself. This time. So the Captain gave an order, and a giant steel phalli of doom was prepped for launch.

----

"Ludvik!"

And Ludvik pulled one of those sneaky maneuveurs which landed him right at the side of the Menopausal Monarch.

"Mmhmmm?"

"Why is there a Rosian Death Ray of sorts being fired into the upper atmosphere?"

"Ninja space pirates?"

"Oh. Where's my chocolate?"

And Ludvik handed the Monarch a Hersheys Bar.

"I'll just go and... Throw together something of an army."

----

"Clerk, pay up!"

"No!"

"Pay up or lose your job!"

"Fine!"

And the Clerk slapped another Byte onto the desk.

"Now... Lets see. That Three-Hundred Fifty Bytes for me... And you're down your pants."

"Gotta' admit, I never expected them not to hit Kay Medical."

"Doubles or nothing Cornelia launches a giant steel phalli of doom."

"I bet your Porsche the Rosians try an invasion now."

"Tripples?"

"You're on!"

And the Minister turned up the volume on the TV, the SIN Network boradcasting from a spectacular vantage point these events.

OOC: Why does this have the feel that it is being written by someone seriously addicted to the products of the poppy plant?

][ That is the eighty third time I've been accused of being a crack addict. When all else fails, go with a comedy. :D ][

"Ludvik, why hasnt the Earth fallen to our feet yet?"

"Hold on a second... Here's some chocolate while you wait."

Nibble nibble nibble went the Monarch, as Ludvik unrolled the Master Plan.

http://img206.exs.cx/img206/4615/profit4mm.jpg

The Monarch peered over Ludvik's shoulder.

"Foolproof."

"Evidently."

----

And therily, hence upon a giant steel phalli of doom was launched. Oh, how marvelous it was. I shall spare you the detail, as we all are acquainted with what a missle is by this stage in our NS lives, are we not?

And so it went blasting towards The Rosian Death Ray of sorts, and so it arrived. And so it released an electromagnetic pulse as to fizzle with the Rosian Death Ray of sorts, as I would never actually toss a giant steel phalli of doom at Rose, [ Only one of lesser doom perchance ], and it went floating about in the ever so crowded orbit around earth, leaving the Rosian Death Ray of sorts fizzled with and whatnot.

And that was the eigth day, and the Lord said unto his subjects, Take upon yourselves this day as rest, and brewery of the finest alchohals and chocolates, and gorge unto yourself gambling of high stakes. And all was well.

Frederick yawned. "So they took down the satellite o' doom eh?"

Wilhem nodded, Wilhem being the Counciller of Defense and whatnot. "Yep."

Frederick chuckled. "Meh. We were gonna take it down anyway. What we're designing will outclass it."

Wilhem raised his brow. "But it was going to be part of the system."

Frederick waved his hand boredly. "Well not it's not. Sergei must be raging, it was his pride and joy."

Meanwhile

"AGH!"

Woosh, boom!

"Fuck you!"

Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, boom!

"Die!"

Ratatatatatatatatatatatatatatatata...

If you didn't notice, that was our lovely Sergei taking out his anger on a host of targets going from T-72s to Jeeps and just literally blowing the shit out of them. And yes, he really did call for an airstrike. Technology is fun eh?

Meanwhile, the Rosians weren't planning for an invasion. They weren't really in it for the long run... I think, I don't know. But there was a reason they left the two major buildings alive... profit! God knows what's in those buildings, those crazy western corporations are always planning something. Plus, maybe we can get high ranking officials, who knows? And it would be a small operation... just a few guys going inside.

Anyway, men, tanks, and Humvees boarded their respective transport planes, took off, and went towards Kay Medical and the Villa.

"Holy me!"

"Do you mind not saying that?"

"What? A little arrogant?"

"A tad."

"Do you wish you live?"

"Isn't that chocolate over-"

"WHERE!"

----

"Hey look!"

"No! Not my Porchse!"

"HAH! They're NOT invading!"

"Odds are they send in a strike force."

---

Meanwhile, down in legal, Sarah is musing over her lost files. Suddenly, she is interupted, a security guard barging into her cubicle.

"'Scuse me ma'am, but we have a heavily armed force approaching the building, we'e going to have to ask you to leave."

"Not until I send in this claim."

The lobby of Kay Medical is a grand thing. It reeked of Corporate. A reception desk along a black marble wall with a gold gilded Kay Medical logo recessed into it seated a sole secretary. Banks of elevators on either side stretched for what seemed miles in either direction, employees constantly climbing in or out with a small "Ping" signaling a new arrival. The entrance was a wall of glass plate, three of those spiffy revolving doors situated next to each other, flanked on both sides by rather spiffy pneumatic doors. The sort that hiss open as you step close? Oh yes.

Well, currently, there was a gaggle of security guards grouping in the lobby. Each in the stiff blue uniform of an NYPD officer, yet equipped with the arms only a Corporation based on Uber Capitalizm can afford. AK-47s, Desert Eagles, all that shiny stuff from grenades to blades. Kay Medical, after all. So maybe even so, they might not stand even a slightest chance. So around a hundred of them are grouping together in the lobby, having been tipped off from Hershey's that a Rosian Task Force was on the way.

Did Hershey's expect to lose their prize client? This is Capitalizm.

][ H'okay. Since Rose has been DEATED of any creative juices and has left me to clean this up, I shall do so in the most pleasant way possible. ][

----

Cue curtain, bring up the lights, play Tchaivosky.

In comes Nokona, stage left, establishing first a brilliant perouiette in stereotypical pink tutu, leaping childishly and freezing on the tips of her toes as she sticks the landing, hands poised high over her head.

Now the flutes kick in!

Three men in tight black suits come dancing in from stage left, with much flamboyant spinning. Three men now enter from stage right, in red suits, charging towards the other three in an elegant sort of charge, with much spinning and flailing of the arms invlolved.

The violins din down now, quiet and low, dragging a sorrowful tune. The six drop down to the floor, and in strides Ludvic from stage left. He reaches out to Nokona, but she pushes him away, and he too, falls.

Cue clarinets, blue spot on Nokona and stage right.

Enters Sergei, on the spare spot! He comes slowly walking out with his head tilted down, hands folded behind his back, shaking his head sadly at the Monarch. She turns away from the audience, almost begrundgingly, Sergei waving in a cloaked dancer.

Then a spotlight falls on Nokona crushing her into the nothingness of Lurkdom.

Curtain fall. Applause.

End.