NationStates Jolt Archive

Military and political figures among the newly emerging Confederacy of Fascisti Morali have extended an official invitation to all nations beyond the boarders of the various states to come and celebrate the new founding of the nation.

The various national leaders willing to participate in the celebration will also be permitted to vote upon the new legislations to pass and the eventual forging of the Constitution of the Confederacy of Fascisti Morali.

All nations are welcome, and it is hoped that it is decided upon to send representatives to this event. Thank you for your time and consideration.

-Confederacy of Fascisti Morali
Parliament

I, King Charles, will personally appear at your gala with a medal of vigilance to present to your leader.

In the tunnel system under Port Noel, an memo was passed to the dictator.

"An Invitation?"
"Yes Uncle Noel," replied the deputy foreign minister, "To celebrate the founding of a new nation."
"Well I won't go," replied the dictator, "No point going abroad when there's work to do here. Is it worth sending my nephew?"
"Well sir," replied the minister, "It is called Fascisti Morali. And the last time you sent your nephew on official business was that marriage."
"Yes, and the woman turned into a vampire in the end. Very curious. Well we'll wait and see. These things are normally attacked by terrorists anyway."

With the matter settled, business turned towards the rather curious affair in the Middle East.

OOC: A BUMP. I'll send a telegram to all people who will be joining in on this in a day or two here.

In an attempt to better international relationships, Atlantis' Chancellor will tenetivily (spelling?) attend the meetings, with a present of 10 crystal sea shells, and 5 gold sea shells (atlantis currency) (very valuable.)

The Inner Council of the Theocracy of the Gonite Inquisition wishes to extend a hand of mutual friendship to the newly formed Confederacy of Fascisti Morali. Lord Inquisitor Securus Indomitus shall attend, with a small entourage.

Horatio, Grand Inquisitor
Member, Gonite Inquisition Inner Council
Head of the External Affairs Department, et al

The Burnsian Desert's Queen, Her Highness Rachel Romalia, has made an opening in her schedule. She normally does not attend such events, so we suspect she likes your country very much. If you will, please apply for a Burnsian embassy by clicking the link below.

"Uh Joe, I think you better look at this."

Major Joeseph Weavering, Samtonian Intelligence Agency, wheeled himself over to the table that a concerned staffer was sitting at. After having lost his leg in the rebel uprising three years earlier, Weavering was forced to use a wheelchair. True, it was the newest and best money could buy. But that didn't make up for the fact that he was now confined to headquarters, unable to participate in any field ops. And all because of those damned rebels...

"What is it Stu?"

"Sir, we've picked up something regarding a new nation being formed."

"And? Nothing special in that."

"Well sir, there is something special in this. It appears that they're a rogue province of ours....... Joe? You okay? Did you hear?"

But Weavering wasn't listening. As his coworked listened, he could hear him muttering under his breath, "Rebels... again... this time though they'll pay... they'll pay."

OOC- This was all worked out by my and Fascisti. So nothing wrong in this.

Inside the Parliament House, Callisto Allighieri, appointed President of the Confederacy was pacing nervously back and forth in the small meeting room. In a few hours, he could easily expect a hostile response from Samtonian officials. Less than pleased about a splitter group, indeed.

Even in the most official dress he could find, Callisto was less than assured of himself, pacing back and forth nervously. It was unstated in his invitations he would be asking for possible military assistance should anyone in Samtonia decide to keep the Confederacy under their thumb. Callisto reached into his coat, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes; smoking seemed to cool his nerves. As he patted himself for a lighter, someone entered the room. Just a low-standing security officer.

"Sir, everything is set. All we need are your guests."

"Thank you," he said softly. "Alert their governments that we're willing to accept them for the celebration and discussions. That should be enough. You're excused."

"Yes, sir," he said noding and left the room.

Is it too late to sign up? My office just heard about it, and we're willing to send a representative.

*Foregin Affairs Ministry gets word of the event and sends a letter to the newly formed nation which read:

Dear Confederacy Parliament,

His Excellency, President Mussar Yarwas, President of the Republic of Wazistan, will be attending the event.

Regards,

Ubu Omar

Foregin Affairs Minister

OOC: Not too late to sign up. You're both welcome, but after you two, no one else will be accepted. Send in your leaders whenever you want.

Uncle Noel was never sure about leaving the comfort and security of his bunker system, but also realised that much of his plan relied upon his own interaction with the people. To celebrate the creation of a new national park on the eastern shores, Uncle Noel sat through a very long decidication given by local officials before presenting his own very long speech on the need for environmental protection. The people were happy to see him, as always, but times like this reminded him that he wasn't getting any younger. As his train spend onto an army base in the Northern mountains for a routine visit, his secretary presented him with a memo.

"What's this Belvidge?" asked the dictator.
"A telegram from that nation we discussed the other day sir," he replied, "Apparantly it'll involve:
-Trading embassies
-Trading goods
-Military defense
-Construction of Constitution
-Potential alliances
And all that sort of thing."
"Well it doesn't sound too bad, send Trevor then."
"Your nephew sir, but he's on holiday."
"Well get him off holiday and on a plane. Idle bugger."

ooc: I hope it's not too late to send a delegate. The previous post was IC character by the way, no offense!

It was very late in Kalinsburg, about 11:45 P.M..While many citizens were already asleep, Premier Alec Mannerheim was working through mountains of paperwork, while drinking Vodka. He then got a memo from his secretary, talking about some event in Fascisti Morali.

"PAINE! GET OVER HERE," Alec screamed, albeit in a half-drunken state.

"Yeah, yeah- I'm coming," Paine grumbled. She was in the middle of a nice warm bath, and there goes her boss screaming again. Alec was visibly annoyed, yet excited at the same time. (Think of Bill Clinton without being sleazy) Anyway, wearing nothing but a towel, she rushed into Mannerheim's office. "You rang?"

"Yes," Mannerheim replied. "We've gotten a memo about a diplomatic event in Facisti Morali, apparently they're looking for international help in building their new nation. Now, as much as I love parties,"

"Say no more, Alec, I get what you mean," Paine said. She remebered that last time Alec went to a diplomatic function, he got drunk and almost started a war.

"Alright, then. We have a chance to pull off a major diplomatic coup here- don't screw it up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to vomit." Alec then ran into the bathroom.

"Someone has to get him to an AA meeting. Seriously." Paine then left Mannerheim's office, and retired to her room to begin the long process of picking out what to wear.

OOC: Our government, which is based at Chatham House in the capital, Kalinsburg, has many madcap adventures, but we do get work done around here. :)

Our Leader would be glad to come.

-The Protectorate of Tynna's Minster of Foreign Affairs Adi Gallia

"Duke Gwalcavad, I believe it would be in our best interest to attend this. We are rather new to the international scene and it could boost our relations with other nations that will be attending." Minister Shay O'Donnal waited paciently as the Grand Duke mulled over his options.

"Very well. I will attend. Call my brother Gwalcmai, I'll need him to watch a few affairs for a couple days. Send our reply that I'll be there. You assemble honor guard and whoever else you think ought to go. Not to many now, we don't want to make a scene."

(Cue intro music)
"This is your National News Network of Samtonia with a breaking story. Let's go to our man in the field, outside the press building in Samtonia City. Here's to you Jon!"

"Thanks Cindy! This is Jon Neubeken, live outside the Governmental Buildings. WE're waiting here for what we've been told is to be an important press release..... wait, someone's coming out.... it's our glorious leader, President Saul Van der Hooysen himself! Let us all pause for a moment, as our national anthem plays and we can give our dues to our glorious leaders."

"Amazing Jon! Public appearences by President Van der Hooysen himself have been increasingly rare. And.. wait, it appears he's about to begin speaking. Let's go to him now."

As the crowd hushed expectantly, President of the Council of Controllers, Commander of the Intelligence Services, His Eminency Saul Van der Hooysen stepped up to the podium and began to speak.

"People of the glorious nation of The Almighty People's Republic of Samtonia, I come to you with an example. A lesson to be learned by all of you. AS of this morning, I and the rest of the council were informed of a situation occuring over the Shieldbreaker Mountains, in the remotest corner of Samtonia. With a population of only a dozen million or so, this corner has eluded the authority of the council, receiving lessened amounts of government due to their small size and remote nature. Well no more! To repay both the government and the people of Samtonia, these...lessers, these....traitors... sold out their country for rebellion. Rebellion that threatens the very core of our country! We have not had any sizeable revolt in a number of years. But no matter! We shall institute the steps that caused rebellions years ago to be crushed. As of this point forward, every man, woman, and child in this trebellious province is considered to be beyond the aid of the Council. They are labelled criminals of the highest degree, traitors to their countries, and heretics to their religions. They are now less than human and shall be treated as such, as refuse to be collected. And collected they shall be! As of this point onwards, they are to be shot on sight! If you have no weapon, call government forces if you see one of these abhumans. If they come for aid, food, shelter- refuse it. They have refused us and now they shall pay the ultimate price- Death. Every last one of them."

"Drop two thousand and BUMP for effect!"

OOC: Been out for a few days. So, aye.

IC: Callisto Alighieri shut off the TV, and muttered to himself, softly. Several days of existence and they had already been blacklisted. And just so short from their day of independance. Swearing softly, he opened his eyes again. They had never specified they were going to invade and crush them ruthlessly... they merely said they were to be shot on sight. To him, that didn't constitute an invasion plan... yet.

Callisto turned his head. On his right, there was a list of nations to be attending their constitutional writing. He looked it over, and then opened the door. In the other room of the office building, one person was working alone at a desk. His secretary.

"Miss," he said, "take this list, and forward a telegram to these nations directing their representatives to spend the night at the New Sicilian hotel on the outskirts. Book reservations, top suites. I want everyone waiting on them.

"Additionally, watch the Samtonian air waves. Alert me of anything that may sound serious... war plans and such. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Callisto turned around, and headed back into his office, where he sank into his chair. The grandfather clock was the only thing that remotely disturbed the air in the room with it's soft tick.

-

OOC: You can start shipping in your representatives. Everything's covered. City name is New Sicily if you must know. Same with the hotel you'll be in.

*A government Il-114 touched down at the New Sicily airport. Paine, Defence Minister of the Republic of Sevaris, stepped out of the plane.*

"I honestly wish Alec would come to these things- then again, given the fact that's he's a drunk, probably not," Paine said. After that, she hailed a cab, and headed for the hotel.

BTW- here's a pic of Paine- http://c-uncut.com/media/ff10-2-paine2.jpg

(I know my cabinet is entirely from Final Fantasy X-2, but I had to get it from somewhere, no?)

"I don't know but I've been told!"

"I don't know but I've been told!"

"Samtonia's might is very old!"

"Samtonia's might is very old!"

"How old?"

"We don't know!"

The rhythmatic singing of the running infantrymen continued, not dropping in pitch or volume, as they jogged down a well run down track. They soon neared their barracks, slowing to a quickmarch, as their commander signalled them to fall out to their barracks to clean up before drill.

Colonel Bob Everett, Samtonian Mobile Infantry, sighed as he walked back to his office. Those kids were gaining on him in his old age.
Now the colonel wasn't old by most anyone's standards, only 33, but by the Mobile Infantry's was fast approaching grandparenthood.

He shook his head as he headed into his office. He would keep running with the 'kids', as he affectionately called them, until he dropped dead of fatigue one day.
Engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't notice the man sitting in his chair until he was in the room. Jumping back a bit, Colonel Everett was about to demand who this was, but recognized him before he blurted this out. Clicking his heels smartly together, Everett snapped a smart salute.

"General MacHewitt, sir! Colonel Everett at duty sir!"

"At ease Bob."

Everett walked over to the desk- his desk, but that was besides the point. He saw something in his CO's eyes- something that he knew was more important than anything so trivial as that.

"Jim, what's wrong? You look like we just got war declared on us or something."

The brigadier general shook his head. "War wasn't declared on us. But you better get your men ready. Something big's coming our way- bigger than anything that any of us have ever been involved in- and your boys will be in the thick of it. God help us all."

In the navy!
We can BUMP the Seven Seas!

I hope i am not too late for anything to be of help to the ceonfederacy. Im sure thy Protectorate would do well to help thee, Confederacy of Fascisti Morali.

--Protector San Edgar XXII, Head Controller Oppersa Malsse I

We are we are....
The BUMP of the Nation!
We are we are....
The BUMP of the Nation!

Bumpa Bumpa!

As The Chief High Wombat of Dezzan i have recently been heavily involved in matters of state and regrettably this invitation has only just been brought to my notice.

I hope it isn't too late to join in?

*Prue sweeps a gracious and elegant courtsey*

I bring gifts *she clicks her fingers and in come a number of wombats bearing wooden chests*

*Prue flings open the first - there are gold and jewels, glinting softly in the lamplight; opulent, expensive and exquisitely beautiful*

Special Agent Johnson Marten slowly slid down the slope of the hill. The guards were very near and he din't want his noise to betray him just yet. As he rolled down into a culvert that was at the bottom of the knoll, he threw a small pebble....

"Ow!" cursed Antonio Venedicci. He whipped his head around, the asault rifle strung on his soulder clattering against his ammo belt.

"What is it Antonio?" asked Giuseppi Monterno, the squad's corporal, who was with Antonio on patrol duty.

"I don't know." replied Antonio. "A rock just hit me. It came from that bush over there."

"We better investigate."

The two men walked over towards a small shrub, guns drawn and pointed. So it was a surprise to the both of them as a knife blossomed out of Corporal Monterno's neck- From behind. With a strangled cry, he collapsed at the feet of Antonio.

Feverishly looking around, he tried to see where the knife had come from. A sudden burst of movement caught his eye, but it was too late......

Marten wiped his blades on the sleeve of one of the dead men. He had taken their maps and radio and destroyed their weapons. As he rifled through the pocket of the private, he came upon a small picture. A woman, in her twenties, with long, dark hair and gorgeous brown eyes. He let the picture fall to the ground beside the dead man as he walked on in the night- on into the rebellious province.

As the picture drifted down, it came to rest near Antonio's outstretched arm. Blood from the gaping cut in his throat began to pool around the picture, slowly obscuring the words written on it.
To my darling fiancee- May you be safe in your duty.....

Bump so Facisti can reply.....

This BUMP is your BUMP!
This BUMP is my BUMP!

Facisti, where the BUMP are you?

BUMP along some more while waiting for Facisti.

I, the powerful Lord Jamith would be most happy to come to your celebration. I hope you won't mind me bringing some of my troops, for personal protection of course.

"Well Sir, Do you think we should go?"
"Not personally, for all we know, this entire reigon could blow up as soon as we touch down! Theese things are magnets for terrorists, as you know. And it could be a terrorist plot, for all we know."
"Yes, sir."
"But, keep an eye on them."
"Why sir?"
"Because, I want to see if this nation is as sincere as they say."