NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC:

Nations involved:

Hallad
Sarctic
ANL
Psov
TIOR
Momanguise
Hattia
GameFAQ
The RSR
Communist Louisiana
Soviet leaders
Red Wales
Arenumberg
NSR
Callisdrun
Rebepacitopia
East Coast Federation
Lethislavania
Dr_Twist
Dovakhan
Taldaan
Cheeser12
Fodmodmadtol
Dakara
Lzech
Thanatasia
Irigrium
Former Soviet Mafia
Akaeia
Fortestan
Yevon of Spira
Hawaiian Islands

IC:

They would start arriving any moment now. Hasan Muhammad knew this. He was a Commissar, working in the Commissariat of Diplomacy. As with most meetings, he had a group of trainees with him. They were to take notes on the conference. Hasan was in full dress uniform; he even has his sidearm with him, an AKS-74U.

He hoped security was good enough. It was. He knew that, but still he worried. There were 15,000 of Hallad’s elite Republican Guard defending them. Not to mention to Halladi police, who were practically soldiers, themselves. There were tanks all around the mile road that led into the Commissariat. There were men and SAMs everywhere. Snipers were on the roof, scanning the perimeter wall.

The Commissar hoped the delegates would enjoy each other’s company. Or, if they didn’t for some reason, that they enjoyed the city of Ryydra. This was one of Hallad oldest cities, being first built in 1213 ACE by the native Arab inhabitants on an oasis that still existed in the center of the city today.

Hasan stood uneasily at the large double doors of the Reyid (Meaning of Ryydra, or the word for a native of Ryydra) Commissariat complex.

Senior Diplomatic Commisar Anatoly Haton Popov checked his watch, "Should be arriving in about an hour..." he thought, as he sat on the aircraft destined for the World Socialist Conference. He leaned back in his seat and drifted off to sleep.

About an hour later

After gaining permission from the authorities on the ground, the aircraft sat down on the ground, waking Popov from his sleep. Once the aircraft stopped, he stretched his arms and made his way to the exit.

He stepped out of the plane and shielded his eyes from the harsh sun, as most Hattians did when they entered Hallad, or any other country for that matter.

He began walking to the conference building, it wasn't very far...

The diplomat, Angharad Jenkins, arrived at the airport of Ryydra, She got out of the plane and walked towards the conference building, she was enjoying her walk in the grand city of Ryydra pretty and she was pretty sure that the conference would go well. She approached the Reyid's doors.

The hum of the rotors dulled, and only sliced the air in a faint swoosh as the Helicopter died down on the landing pad. As it settled and quieted down, a hatch along side popped up, and slid off to the side in oneumatic silence. Four aides in all white wandered out of the beast of a Heli, sauntering off on either side of the door, spinning to attention and attaining a salute in two small rows.

"Kara takuni-"

"Don't start with that formal bilbber blabber.."

And small squeak and Prime Minister Yishi launched her wheelchair off from the Heli, a clank as it fell the foot wide gap between the hatch and the ground, bouncing a bit.

"Which one of you knows where we're going."

"It's a few blocks down Prime minister."

"Eh. Nyana and Hiron, you two are dismissed for now. Keep your pagers on.."

And a pair on either side of her siddled off into the Helicopter. One of the remaining two took the back of her wheelchair, the other hopping to stand at attention to her side.

"Let's get on with it then."

And on with it they got.

The LS Auto T-4 slowed it's rotary engine, and gently landed on the ground. Chancellor Alejandro de la Casa Negra jumped out, smiling, his hair blowing in the gentle breeze. Taking in a deep breath of air, he walked over to the building and opened the door.

'Muy bonita...'

Smiling, he walked in and went up to a guard.

"Ah, senor. Where shall I go?"

The Republican Guardsman looked at the Chancellor from Lethislavania.

"Do you have a security pass?" He said, pointing his M41A1 Pulse Rifle at the man.

Commissar Hasan Muhammad walked into the lobby.

"Is there a problem, comrade?" He asked the Guardsman, who saluted.

"I was merely asking if this comrade had a security pass."

"Oh. Carry on, soldier."

"Are those, steps?!"

And a leer was shot from the Prime Minister up to the door, conveying the fiercest emotion possible to whoever was in the way of the glare of pure and utter ice.

"Oh wait, nevermind. Wrong building.."

As the Aide continued pushing her down the block..

A few more minutes of idle strolling and they came up within sight of the Conference. Papers were drawn from the aide by their side as they turned off from the walk, approaching the entrance.

"Hm... I seem to have lost it..." Alejandro fiddles around in his pocket. "But don't you know me? I'm the Chancellor of Lethislavnia."

Atleast twenty people raised their weapons when the Chancellor said that, including Hasan himself.

"Prove it." He said.

'Not good...' Alejandro pulled out his citizenship card, under which Occupation read as: Government, Position: Chancellor.

"Do you still doubt me? If you wish, you can also look through the rest of my ID's and such."

A few seconds of squeaking as Yishi took the wheels herself and pushed herself to the gaggle of guards at the entrance, and pulled her brake. One aide held a leather bound book of documents neatly at her waist, and stood at attention behind the Prime Minister, with the other saluting next to her.

"Am I interupting something, or is it possible we can get out of this heat."

Anything was a bit warm when snow usually coats the Imperial Gardens year round.

"I apoligize, comrade." He put his gun in it's holster. The others went back to their business. "Better safe than sorry, y'know?"

The Commissar turned to Prime Minister Yishi.

"Ah, Premier Yishi, I presume? Once again, I apologize for the missunderstanding. Ah. I am Commissar Hasan Muhammad, of the Halladi Commissarariat of Diplomacy."

"It is good, kind sir. Sorry for the confusion." Alejandro nodded. "Also, Senor, could you tell me where I could get a soda?"

A plane touches down in Reyid. It's white, has a rose on the fins, and has a red stripe along the sides. A ladder pops out, a man walks out. He doesn't have any guards, though this man was important? Who was he? The Rosian Minister of Foreign Affairs: Rosta Einvach.

He walked up to one of the guards. "Excuse me. When is the meeting?" He said. He had a German accent by the way. "If the meeting is now, please escort me to a taxi, if not, escort me to a taxi anyway. I'm staying in the Rosian Embassy."

"Oh and..." He takes out an I.D. showing his face and job. "Just so you don't have doubts." He puts it back in his pocket.

"So-dah? Err, what's that?" The Commissar asked.

* * *

"The conferance should be starting soon, comrade. Follow me." He lead the Rosian to a Police Squad Car. (A BMP-3)

"The conferance should be starting soon, comrade. Follow me." He lead the Rosian to a Police Squad Car. (A BMP-3)

Rosta looked up at the BMP-3. "Wow you too?!" He entered as he takes out a laptop and starts typing fancy things.

The BMP-3 arrived at the Commissariat of Diplomacy within 5 minutes. The door opened, and a policeman pointed to the building.

"In there, comrade."

Rosta exited the BMP-3 and threw 100 Roses, the currency not the flower, at the policeman. He ran towards the building, holding a suitcase which carried very hush hush important things.

"Thank you!" He shouted.

The policemen took the money, and made thier way to the Commissariat of Internal Affairs, where they gave the money in, and evenly distributed food credits amongst themselves.

* * *

Hasan saw Rosian enter the Commissariat.

"Greetings, comrade! Where do you hail from?"

The policemen took the money, and made thier way to the Commissariat of Internal Affairs, where they gave the money in, and evenly distributed food credits amongst themselves.

* * *

Hasan saw Rosian enter the Commissariat.

"Greetings, comrade! Where do you hail from?"

Rosta bowed. "I am Rosta Einvach, Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Island of Rose. I was sent here to be the Rosian Delegate."

He scanned Hasan. "And you will be presiding this meeting?"

"I will. As soon as the rest of the delegates arrive we shall begin." He said.

The Diplomat for Red Wales introduced herself "I am Angharad Jenkins, chief diplomat for Red Wales"

Rosta yawned. "Better entertain myself..." He walked over to a bench and sat down as he started playing with his fingers.

The private plane carrying the Fortestani Vice President, Orlando Ferrara, and
his diplomatic team landed on the runway at the airport in Reyad. As he
exited the craft, he and his team approached a convoy of automobiles
waiting for them.

"Driver, my good man, speed us along. We are in quite a hurry, now." He sat
alongside the Sub-Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Matjaz Matvei. The motor
car sped along the road to the conference building. Once the motor-car
arrived at its destination, the diplomatic team exited and walked up to the
entrance, where a security contingent was checking for security passes.

(OOC: Whoops, posted as my puppet.)

"Welcome comrade Jenkins. Shall we enter the conferance room to wait there?" The Commissar asked the delegates.

We would like to send a delegate to this meeting.

Sure. But, the conferance is starting very soon.

The Commissariat of Diplomacy
The Socialist Federation of Hallad

Rosta walked up to Hasan. "Lead the way."

Hasan lead them through a door labelled "Conferance Room 5." There was a large table in the center of the room. On the walls there were maps of various nations, some of the delegates nations.

Popov finally made it to the conference building. Approaching the guards at the door, he showed them his ID.

"Hello comrade, if you are checking for weapons, all I have is my sword here, and my pistol." he said and slightly lifted his coat, showing a holster concealed under it.

He wiped his forehead, "Mind if I go in now? It's bloody hot out here.

"It's only 85 Degrees Farenheit... And yes, you may preceed. Conferance Room Five, comrade. On your left." The Guard said, opening the door for the Hattian.

As the delegate, Dave, dresses in his tuxedo, a certain voice came to speak. "May I need to tell you that it's almost time for the meeting?" When Dave turned around, it was the Tropical Leader Rachel Rains. "I think it's time to give you a break, after all... You've been a Delegate since 1982. I'll go to the meeting." Rachel tosses a card on to Dave, "Here's your offical Hawaiian Credit Card. Spend crazy."

Two hours later
Rachel's limo comes to a stop, when 5 people, known to be civilians asked the driver to get out of the car. He later shoots him. Rachel, who is frightened, called for the two police officers behind the limo for help. Luckily, the limo driver had a bullet proof vest on.

Then when arrival, the limo stops to identify the guards that this limo is from The Tropical Legion of Hawaiian Islands.


OOC: Hallad, your part.

And she woke up from a spontaneous nap.

"Nyah!"

A worried look about, and a glance to the aides who were now playing a round of blackjack.

"Why didn't you wake me?!"

"Nyah?"

"Gah. Forget it. Follow me or you two will be the bishops in the next chess game the General Cabinet plays.."

"Nyah!"

And on she rolled through the entrance, and to the conference room. Aides scurried quickly behind..

Rosta laughed. "Hot?! It's not hot enough!" He sat down on his respected chair and looked at the flag above him. "My flag, the only one with a dollar sign on it. Heh."

He took out his laptop and layed on the table. He opened it and nodded at some random delegates. "Yes... so can we begin?"

Four delegates arrived at the conferance hall. They each flashed their security badges to the guard and continued on. They reached the front desk. "We the the delegates from Yevon of Spira", one of them spoke up "Do you happen to know where the conferance today is being held? We were held up. Airplane delays."

OoC: Tagged. Too bad it is closed, since Cerongrad, a part of Umojan that is trying to break free of the imperalistic dictator, would like to join up. Oh well...

A small squeak and a streak was left across the floor as she rounded to face the conference room doors.

"Aides! Doors!"

And the two scurried up in a fluster, and pulled them aside. A sigh of relief as the Premier noticed that there were only so many people present at the moment. A small smile and she wheeled in a bit, taking a wide sweeping glance across the room. A wider grin as she noted who was present, and she tilted her head back, then spat to the floor.

"A blessing upon Hallad.."

A heave and she pulled herself in, aides following like little puppies.

Vice President Orlando Ferrara approached the security guard and flashed his
clearance, followed by Sub-Secretary Matjaz Matvei of Foreign Affairs and
the rest of the diplomatic team. They were directed to 'Conference Room 5'
by a diplomatic aide, where they entered and went into discussion about the
following meeting.

-minutes passed-

"Mister Matvei, please, excuse me as I 'mingle' with the other delegates."
Ferrara left the discussion and wandered around the conference room.

As the delegate, Dave, dresses in his tuxedo, a certain voice came to speak. "May I need to tell you that it's almost time for the meeting?" When Dave turned around, it was the Tropical Leader Rachel Rains. "I think it's time to give you a break, after all... You've been a Delegate since 1982. I'll go to the meeting." Rachel tosses a card on to Dave, "Here's your offical Hawaiian Credit Card. Spend crazy."

Two hours later
Rachel's limo comes to a stop, when 5 people, known to be civilians asked the driver to get out of the car. He later shoots him. Rachel, who is frightened, called for the two police officers behind the limo for help. Luckily, the limo driver had a bullet proof vest on.

Then when arrival, the limo stops to identify the guards that this limo is from The Tropical Legion of Hawaiian Islands.

Republican Gaurdsmen and Police looked on in awe at the sight of a limosine. The Commissars (from the Commissariat of War) saluted to the car. Officers motioned for them to continue moving toward the Commissariat.

"Move along." The occaisional man said.

* * *

Rosta laughed. "Hot?! It's not hot enough!" He sat down on his respected chair and looked at the flag above him. "My flag, the only one with a dollar sign on it. Heh."

He took out his laptop and layed on the table. He opened it and nodded at some random delegates. "Yes... so can we begin?"

"There are thrity nations attending. We have maybe 5 here." Hasan said, looking behind him, seeing his Commissars-In-Training enter the room. Taking notes.

* * *

Four delegates arrived at the conferance hall. They each flashed their security badges to the guard and continued on. They reached the front desk. "We the the delegates from Yevon of Spira", one of them spoke up "Do you happen to know where the conferance today is being held? We were held up. Airplane delays."


"Conferance room 5, comrades." A Secratery said

The delegates arrived in conferance room five. They found themselves in good company and mingled with the other delegates.

Popov nodded and went through the door. Inside the conference room, he found a seat and sat down, waiting for the conference to begin. He had serious jet lag...

Rosta looked at the Hattian delegate. "Hmmm, Hattia's cold I hear. Lucky, it must snow alot. We have sun 24/7. We're a small island paradise."

He chuckled. "What do you think of our flag? Ironic isn't it? The Corporates in our nations didn't want a new flag unless there was a dollar sign involved..."

Popov nodded, "Yeah, it never gets above 70 degrees fahrenheit there. It's how I like it, though. Of course, I don't think the corporates should get what they want..."

Haem Vars, Yevon of Spira's Director of commerce looked at his watch. "Any chance the conferance will start soon. If not, could someont tell me where the buffet table is, I refuse to touch airline food, if you could even call it food."

"Is that a chair?"

"Afraid so."

"Pah."

And the Aide scrambled to remove it for the Irate Premier. A small push, and a set of the brake. The other aide placed the leatherbound book onto the table along with a pen, and backed away with the other to stand by the doors. Elbows propped up onto the table as she rested her chin lightly on folded hands. She gazed lazily about to the other delegates, smiling politely, and only that. A few blinks and her smile did a vanishing act as she caught the sight of a dollar sign.. Period.. Present in the room.. On a flag no less.

People still use money these days? Pah.. Barter is the way to go..

"Ah, well there is a buffet table in the addition." Hasan motioned to a door labeled "Cafeteria."

"I do hope our comrades arrive soon."

At Ryydra International, the radar operators tracked a pair of MiG-29MUs escorting the long, low-slung form of a government Yak-40M VIP jet as they landed. The jet was met by a car which had been pre-booked through the embassy. The vehicle picked up the delegate. He was not tall, but he was well-built, and quite clearly not expecting things to go well. He boarded the car and set off towards the meeting-place.

"Is this thing going to start anytime soon? I am so hungry" whined Haem Vars, a short, pot bellied man in his young twenties. He has always associated with the more well off and has very little manners and lacks maturity. "I could eat a chocobo I’m so starved!" The other delegates from Yevon of Spira tried to calm him but couldn't. He wandered off into the crowd looking for sympathy. Eventually one of the delegates, the one who seemed to be running the event showed him to the buffet table. "Thank you sir' he said while practically drooling over the succulent food in front of him

Popov nodded, "Yeah, it never gets above 70 degrees fahrenheit there. It's how I like it, though. Of course, I don't think the corporates should get what they want..."

Rosta chuckled. "Yes, but then that would start a civil war, and the Rosians would get mad, then the International Community would interfere... just a mess really..."

He looked up at the Rosian flag. "Well, that, and the fact that the Corporates hold 30% of the seats in Parliament if I remember correctly."

"I hope you don't mind Middle Eastern food. That's what Halladi cuisine is. We've got it all. Gyros, Couse Couse, Hummus, Tabouli. Everything arabic." He smiled thinking about the food. Actually, I think I will have a some Hummus, myself. Excuse me, comrades."

Hasan got up, got a glass of water and a small container of Hummus and some peta bread.

And she fell into a spontaneous nap again. As soon as something happened, or the Time Zone permitted, she would move once more!

"Psst.. Prime Minister.. Psst.. Wake up.."

Haem himself a full plate. "So, your the delegate of Hallad? Do you have any idea when this thing is starting? Mmm..This stuff is good. What'd you call it? Hummus? HuMMMMus!" he laughed at his own joke, which was only funny to him.

"Err. I hope it will start soon, comrade. And, yes, it's called hummus." He sat does with his plate and glass.

"Interesting, and what’s this tabouli? Whatever it is, it tastes exquisite. Please do tell me what it’s made of."

Rosta scoffed. "Ha, our Rosian food is better. Croquettes and pastries galor... I need a croquette right now..."

Any radars on tracking would detect the three Mi-24 Hind Assault Gunships coming in at a low position towards the airport. The gunships descended smoothly onto the designated helipads, slowly and surely. The first two opened up to reveal various delegates and their guards. As the groups from this two began moving off the pad, the third opened. A few guards came out, but then the reason everyone was coming came. Helped by an aide, a slightly bandaged President Onsorn limped out of the gunship and off the pad. He was wearing the standard Sarctic forest cameo, a light brown with a lot of green.

Onsorn had been serving along with his troops in Terraniam, a conquest with their ally of Varrus. Since he was a freedom fighter, Larf had always held the firm belief a Commander in Chief should serve with his men. Onsorn was slightly regretting this belief as the fresh wound still felt pain. He had been clearing a street block along with his personally assigned SOO squad when a mortar had struck their position. Everyone else was okay, but Larf had recieved a nasty portion of falknel. While his doctors had strongly disagreed with it, Larf firmly held that he had attend this meeting.

After the gunships departed back to the cruiser Vorsk, Larf was led through numerous modes of transportation where the actual meeting was being held. As the slick limo pulled to the building, Larf and his entourage made his way into the building and through the doors to the meeting.

"Hmm, if memory serves, lemon juice, red onions, parsley, and some oils. For the most part. Taboule (That's how you spell it, my bad) is just a type of salad, really."

Vice Pres. Ferrara piled the Middle Eastern food onto a plate. He had never
eaten food like this in his life, but there is always a first time for everything.
He overheard the discussion of food between the Rosian, Halladi, and Yevon
delegates. He hadn't eaten since he left Fortestan, and didn't want to get
into conversation at the moment. As he was scooping up the hummus with a
piece of flatbread, the Sarctic President Onsorn and his men entered into the
conference room. The Sarctic president looked like he just got back from
fighting a war. The president looked injured, though he could handle seemed
to be able to handle himself. His thoughts wandered back to the hummus, he
took a bite of it on flatbread, and liked it.

OOC: The Sarctic delegation isn't all decked in military garb, only Onsorn, since he came direclty from battle.

OOC: The Sarctic delegation isn't all decked in military garb, only Onsorn, since he came direclty from battle.

OOC: Oh, sorry about that, then. I'll edit my post.

The wheels of Lightning Stryke Industries' latest quad-engined civillian airliner touched tarmac as it made a near perfect landing within Ryydra International Airport. Taxing, the plane would drop off it's ever so light yet important load to an awaiting automobile. As all of this occured overhead flew three of LSI's most advanced fighters, the Sheol series ASF, pilots on watch as the third's pilot spoke to tower control for them. On the ground at a locked off hanger engines died down, their whines fading though unnoticed to the general populace. With the opening of a door, Premier Estridge stepped onto the mobile stairs then glanced around. A few mumbled yet kind words came forth from under his breath before proceeding to walk down. Nodding as a man opened the heavy door of the awaiting vehicle Estridge climbed in. Estridge made himself comfortable in the car. It may have been one of the few times he could depending on how the night went. One order escaped his lips as he felt the car begin to move off. The order?

"Notify Mr. Muhammad that I'll be arriving shortly."

The call was made.

Rosta's cell phoned rang, it was a Nokia, he picked it up agitated. "Don't you see I'm at a meeting?! What?! No! We need those weapons! I don't care if you need to suck his dick, do it! I don't care if you're not gay! You wanna be promoted?! Do it! Yeah? Well welcome to the Foreign Ministry!"

He put his cell phone away. "Damn interns..." He mumbled.

((OOC: Bump))

The Puma landed on the airport. It was a normal military transport helicopter used by the Cerongrad Army. The sliding doors opened, inside seven shadows was seen, although one was sitting behind an old RPK-74. Two men jumped out, dressed in black costumes, and soon after, one man who seemed to inspire great respect over his comrades. He was dressed in a black-red costume and carried a pair of black shades. After he jumped out, two more men followed him, and at last, one last man arrived. He wore a Black Tunika and a pair of green sun-glasses and a red belt and he was wearing a Daewoo DR300, it was pretty clear that he was an important figure and bodyguard of the man in charge. The four guards in costumes stayed but the other two walked all the way to the conference, enjoying the surroundings and talked to random people in the street.

When they arrived, they were hindered by a few guard. The man took of his shades and began:

"My name is Polkovnik Edoard Ivanov, First Commander of the People's Republic of Cerongrad. Although my late appearence, I was invited and I hope that this will be a most prosperous. The man in Tunika behind me is Jefreto Leonid Romanov, my first bodyguard, and he should be treated with as much respect as you treat me, no more-no less."

After much tribulation the Lzechan delegation arrived at the conference hall.
A man in a grey suit stopped just before entering the facility and addressing his assistant wiped his wrinkled brow with a sullied handkercheif.

"Here, take the cell phone and call the rental agency" Andre's voice crackled, still shaking off a chestcold from earlier in the week. "Tell them the car smelled like that when we got it"

"Yessir comrade Abakumov" the young man replied.

The undersecretary of foreign affairs flashed his security clearance badge and nodding at the guard entered the complex flanked by two men in dark suits and one striking raven-haired woman in her mid twenties. After interrogating some of the guards they found their way to the appropriate conference room.

The last supper? thought Rorsch with amusement. He walked through the doors of the conference room, remaining largely unnoticed, and took a seat where he could observe, yet remain inconspicuous.

OOC: Sorry I'm late.

Jack Baker sat uncomfortably in his chair. God dammit he thought. Never enough room on these damn planes. He attempted to enjoy the novel he was reading, but the lack of space made it near impossible. His thoughts were suddenly broken when the pilot called back, "Sir, we'll be landing at Halladi International(OOC: I assume that's the airport name?) in just a few moments." Thank god. , Jack thought.

Soon enough, the plane landed. He stepped out of the plane, accompenied by his intern and two bodyguards. While one went to get the rental car, Jack lingered and smoked a cigar. When the black sedan pulled up, he tossed it on the ground, stepped on it, and entered the car.

The sedan pulled up to the building where the convention was to be held. Jack got out of the car. "You two," nodding his head at his bodyguards, "Go find somewhere to park. I'll call you when it's over." The two men nodded. "Yes sir." As the car drove away, Jack and his intern went up the steps, and stopped at the two guards at the door. "Good evening. I'm here for the socialist confrence, I'm representing Cheeser12."

][ Yar. Say we actually begin the summit at the time it opened, Tomorow? I do fear the whole, Time Zone thing, will have people arriving untill the last hour. ][

Vice Pres. Ferrara finished up the Middle Eastern cuisine and spoke with two
Congressmen who are apart of his delegation. Ferrara noticed delegations
from more countries enter the conference room. Ferrara, personally, was
ready to begin the conference and began to wonder what would dominate
the discussions. He figured the recent surge of communist revolutions and
anti-socialist acts by right-wing nations would be a focal point of the
conference. He wanted to stress the importance of democratic evolution
rather than violent revolution in a turn to socialism in this conference. Oh
well, Pres. Durandana had agreed to this conference primarily to improve
relations with other like-minded nations.

OOC: Fluid time, comrade, fluid time. Besides, the conferance isn't just one day.

IC

"Come in, comrades! Come in. Yes, this is the conferance. And, if I do say so myself, Mr. Rosta, that was disturbing..." The Commissar said. "At anyrate. I believe we can begin the itinerary. Are we in agreement, comrades?"

And she woke up! And sat up straight! And was at attention! Semi-concious even!

"Ahem."

She picked up the leatherbound book of papers, tapped it a few times on the table, and set it down again.

"The agenda? I need a nap."

And she fell into one again.

Ooc: Eastern Standard time. Classess are a priority.

Rosta scratched the back of his head. "Yes... itenirary... I have no idea what that means! Clarify comrade!"

"An order of doing things", supplied Rosch in a gravelly voice from the corner.

"I agree that we should set the itinerary(sp?). Though, Hallad, since you
preside over this conference, you should have the opening statement," said
Vice Pres. Ferrara, "We can begin after you formally declare your intentions
with this meeting."

OOC: I've g2g, I'll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.

The dakaran Delegation arrived as usual, late, and arguing between the two men, The former Emperor Dak, and Premier Zukhov. The Astounding thing of it all is that Dak was wearing a suit...of fabric...and not metal. and he didn't have a sword in sight. They busily headed towards the meeting.

As Leonid Romanov, Ivanov's bodyguard, went to mingle with other soldiers of the conferance, Edoard Ivanov looked around and thought:

I Ain't used to this, I am a warrior. I am only a temporary leader, ordered by the General Council to remove the Umojan's oppressors from having power over Cerongrad. I am only a military commander, not a diplomat. Oh well, that is what Zulu was hired for, even though I don't trust him. I mean, he is probably one of the best mercenaries in the world and a world champion in Kung Fu for the last three years, but he was a mercenary. I mean, killing should be done for a cause, not for money. Oh well, I hope the council have made the right choise, otherwise, I am screwed, totally.

He checked his inner pocket. Yup, the .357 Python Revolver was ready. He glanced at Romanov, who was showing some Kung Fu moves and stances to other guys in the conference, and then Edoard suddenly bumped into Hasan and quickly bowed.

"Good day, comrade. Could you direct me and Jefreto Romanov to the council room please?"

The delegates began to take their seats around the conferance table. Haem Vars tried to bring his platefull of hummus, but glares from the other delegates made him reconsider. Yevon's delegates took their appropriate seats and pulled out notebooks and pens. Glancing around the room, they began to take notes. "Elaborate set up" one wrote. "The flags of all the attending nations gives a welcoming sense" another wrote. "Food was magnificant" another jotted down. "Something suspicious is happening. I can sense it. Someone is not supposed to be here. But who?" the last one quickly joted down in a notebook before replacing it with a new one.

OoC: Not supposed to be there? Do you mean my guys? I am not included in the original list, but I have permission to join in.

Angharad sighed at the apperently disorganisation of this meeting, she awaited for the conferance to start, having many important issues she wanted to raise.

Yevon's delegates began having teleconferances to their offices back at the homeland. Even though they are on paid leave for this event, they continue to work.

Jack Baker, after having a quick chat with the guards, entered the building. He went up a few sets of stairs, wanting to get some exercise after the painfully long flight. When he got to the right floor, he found conference room 5. He straignted his tie, brushed off some crumbs from his quick snack in the car, and entered the room. He found a chair and sat down.

Rosta laughed. "Oh a list! Well, first we should introduce ourselves, then talk about the rise of fascism, then talk about spreading the red." He chuckled at his own joke. "Then talk about how to make a world a better place... then lunch!"

5 AM Gamefaq time

In Charles Ebner's house in GameFAQ

A knock is heard at the door.

Housecleaner:Mister Ebner, are you there? Can I come in?

Ebner:Come in.

Housecleaner:Sir! You are late! You are supposed to be in Hallad right now!!!

Ebner:Call my driver and get me my suit and get my plane ready!

Housecleaner:I'll do that right now sir

8 am GameFAQ time
Housecleaner:Your driver is here and ready to take you to the airport sir.

Ebner:Okay. Tell him I'll be out in the car in five minutes!

Housecleaner:Yes sir!

9:30 AM GameFAQ time, on the plane

Ebner:How long until we arrive?

Pilot:1 hour sir.

10:15 AM GameFAQ time, in Hallad airspace
Pilot:Hallad do we have permission to land? The delegate for the Socialist Conference is in the plane.

OOC:Now respond Hallad. Sorry I didn't post here sooner, i have been busy RL

The car entered the heavily guarded complex. A smirk came over the Premier's lips. There was always something about military hardware that interested him..it had since he was a mere runt and continued to this day. Eyes continued to watch, then glance at the actual establishment. Shrugging a little, Adin awaited the stopping of the car. Once it did so, stepping out before making his entrance.

A scitter with a pen and the Premier busied herself with writing in the ream of documents.

"Hour.. Unknown.. Food running short.. Air supply.. Low.. We've been marooned now for what seems weeks.. Little hope remains.. Might have to eat the Red Wales delegate to survive.."

As the Aides went through another round of Miss Mary Mac.

Rosch leaned over to her.
"Try her thigh with fruity sauce." He grinned crookedly, showing a row of equally crooked teeth, and leaned back in his chair, glugging from a mug of tea.

The car entered the heavily guarded complex. A smirk came over the Premier's lips. There was always something about military hardware that interested him..it had since he was a mere runt and continued to this day. Eyes continued to watch, then glance at the actual establishment. Shrugging a little, Adin awaited the stopping of the car. Once it did so, stepping out before making his entrance.
Napoleon Conplex, huh?

A scitter with a pen and the Premier busied herself with writing in the ream of documents.

"Hour.. Unknown.. Food running short.. Air supply.. Low.. We've been marooned now for what seems weeks.. Little hope remains.. Might have to eat the Red Wales delegate to survive.."

As the Aides went through another round of Miss Mary Mac.
...weird...

"Hello, my name is Rachel Rains. I am very sorry to be late in the meeting. Well, I am 23 Years Old. Uhh... I'm single, and I am from the Province of Tropical Legion." When the Leader finds a chair to sit on, she sits and waits for everything else to happen. Rachel also included in her welcome, "May I ask you if I can keep 3 Hawaiian Bodyguards for protection?"

"GameFAQ vessel, you have permission to land. Run way 11 is yours." A radio operater said.

* * *

"Hello, my name is Rachel Rains. I am very sorry to be late in the meeting. Well, I am 23 Years Old. Uhh... I'm single, and I am from the Province of Tropical Legion." When the Leader finds a chair to sit on, she sits and waits for everything else to happen. Rachel also included in her welcome, "May I ask you if I can keep 3 Hawaiian Bodyguards for protection?"

"For sure. I doubt you'll need them, however." Hasan said.

As Leonid Romanov, Ivanov's bodyguard, went to mingle with other soldiers of the conferance, Edoard Ivanov looked around and thought:

I Ain't used to this, I am a warrior. I am only a temporary leader, ordered by the General Council to remove the Umojan's oppressors from having power over Cerongrad. I am only a military commander, not a diplomat. Oh well, that is what Zulu was hired for, even though I don't trust him. I mean, he is probably one of the best mercenaries in the world and a world champion in Kung Fu for the last three years, but he was a mercenary. I mean, killing should be done for a cause, not for money. Oh well, I hope the council have made the right choise, otherwise, I am screwed, totally.

He checked his inner pocket. Yup, the .357 Python Revolver was ready. He glanced at Romanov, who was showing some Kung Fu moves and stances to other guys in the conference, and then Edoard suddenly bumped into Hasan and quickly bowed.

"Good day, comrade. Could you direct me and Jefreto Romanov to the council room please?"

"Err, this is it, comrade. Please, have a seat." He paused.

"Comrades. Welcome. I'm sorry, but we will have to start. You all know what we are here for. We are here to discuss the future. To plan our defense against the evils of Capitalism. We must guide our comrades through out the world.

Today, I merely want to get introductions over. So comrades, allow me to begin. I am Commissar Hasan Muhammad of the Commissariat of Diplomacy. I will be representing the glorious Socialist Federation of Hallad. Anyone care to go next?"

Rosta chuckled as he heard the phrase evils of capitalism. The Island of Rose is liberal by socialist standards. They acknowledged if there were strict limits that didn't take advantage of the people and didn't interrupt production, there was an advantage. He grinned. "Rosta Einvach, Ministers of Foreign Affairs for The Proletariat Commonwealth of The Island of Rose." He said.

"I am Jareth Cional, Assistant Praetor, this is Tyraal Darrin, Seven Emblem War Commissioner and Director of Warfare, over here is Darin Fley, Director of Foreign Affairs, and over there is Haem Vars, Director of Commerce. Niel Haverway, Director of Scientific Progress, is unable to attend tonight so in his place is James Cyral"

Jack Baker rose his hand.
"Jack Baker, Head of Foriegn Affairs for the People's Republic of Cheeser12."

The small note about eating one of the delegates was brushed aside quickly.

"Good day to you all. I am Prime Minister Yishi, of the Socialist Server of Fodmodmadtol. My aides by the doors are here strictly for medical concerns, so please don't pay them mind."

"I am Vice President Orlando Ferrara representing the United Socialist States
of Fortestan. With me are Sub-Secretary for Foreign Affairs Matjaz Matvei
and Sub-Secretary for War and Home Defense Azru Makeda, along with
representatives from the Fortestani Free People's Congress."

"Rorsch," said Rorsch flatly.

It was Angharad Jenkins turn to introduce herself, "Angharad Wydd Jenkins, head diplomat for Red Wales, here to represent Red Wales in this meeting of course"

Mmm.. Red Wales delegate..

Slight of hand to wipe away a spot of drool from corner of lip.

Onsorn, raised a pained hand as him and his delegation sat down.

"President Larf Onsorn, President of the Commonwealth of Sarctic, Commander of the Sarctic Army and one very wounded man" Larf smiled as he said this, hoping to inject a little humor to the room in reference to his battle injuries.

"Bueno Noches, fellow Comrades. I am Chancellor Alejandro de la Casa Negra, of The United socialist States of Lethislavania. It is an honour to finally meet some of you." Smiling, the small man sat down.

Having managed to sneak in a few minutes before, Adin listened as each person introduced themselves. Dark eyes had watched as each man rose, introduced themselves, then took their seat. A smile had even crept onto his lips as the Sarctic leader made his own introduction. Then another introduction and now it was his turn. Glancing for a moment, the former soldier arose and looked to his fellow men.

"I am Adin Estridge, Premier of the United Socialist States of Neo-Soviet Russia, former soldier of the Red Marines, friend to socialist, communist, and capitalist alike...and even willing to be friends with our battered companion here."

A smirk played on his lips as Estridge gave a slight though respectful nod in Onsorn's direction.

"I am glad to be seeing faces old and new."

Nodding once more, the man stood for a few seconds before taking his seat once more.

The Commisar chuckled slightly at the comment made by the President of Sarctac.

He nodded slightly towards the other delegates, "Diplomatic Commisar Popov of the Soviet Socialist Republic and USR. he said with a rather heavy accent.

Furtively shifting his eyes around the room he pretended to take notes on a sheet of paper. As the man next to him spoke he purposely dropped his pen onto the floor by his feet and while reaching down to retrieve it took a long swig out of his flask. Sitting upright he smoothed out the wrinkles in his jacket, and stood up to introduce himself.

"Andre Abakumov" he voiced "Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs, The People's Republic of Lzech"

bump

"Is that everyone? So are we going to keep going around the table with camp-ground games or can we get to business, eh?"

Tap tap of the table top.

-business!

premier Zukhov voted.

Rosta raised his brow, flipping his laptop open as he chuckled. "Business then, might I suggest the first order? Defense."

"Defense? Can't get a bit more specific than defense? Defense against what? Defense against Imperialistic countries, Defense against the Capitalist movement, Defense against disease, famine, war, etcetera?"

Pah.

"Defense against Ignorance seems appropriate at the moment though. The reason this conference was called was for the recent smatterings of every Colony and their Mother Nations national Bird has been waging an outright massacre against anything slightly communistic."

And with her tiny little rant over, prompted most likely with the lack of anything to do so far, she settled herself down and began to speak in a much more calmer air.

"I have seen it as an outrage that these Nations insist on executing all members of an entire political party, just for the reason that one lunatic commits an atrocity, and happens to be registered with them. It's sheer idiocy that some a Government would see it that one lunatic speaks for the whole lot of lunatics. Either that, or Capitalists just hate us, are filthy 'pig-dogs,' and have no common sense."

bump

][ Yanno, instead of bumping, you could like, participate. ][

Alejandro stood up. "I do not believe that is the way to go... We will not teach anyone a lesson by militairy force. Borman, Generia, these people will never learn. It is better to leave them alone."

OOC: I plonked this on The International boards. Just have Jerusalem playing while you read, ok? :P

IC: Rorsch coughed to get attention. Heads turned, and he began.

"I am wholly agreed. It is now our policy to intervene if at all possible in any actions of persecution taken by the Far Right wing.

Comrades, we have here a legacy bequethed to us by history, a legacy of freedom, honour and justice for all. We cannot let cowardice by our downfall. The era of peace is gone, and the era of ruin and doom upon us. It is our duty to aid those who are oppressed in the nations of the world, be they in Doomingsland or in Roach-Busters...or in our own nations; for we must not neglect our own countries while changing others for the better.

Comrades, we have here something worth fighting for, something we must protect with our lives if need be. Are we to let the great ideals of freedom, truth, justice, equality and honour die in the flames of the Right's aggression and persecution? Are our great and laudable lands to stand idle as the butchery goes on? I say NO!"

Dissapointment

"Let us get rid of specific examples as of now, and let us discuss them all as one threat."

A lean back into her seat, hands coming together in steeples as elbows propped up on her arm rests.

"As Rorsch has just said, this is no longer a time of peace. Pax Romana was delightful, but will never again be achieved by anything, period, end of story. Dhoom is indeed what glowers ahead of us. We really must act, and act quickly if any threat is imposed upon our ideas. First it's the small rebel factions, then the political nominees, then entire nations based on those ideas. Peace is no more in this world, as sad as it may be, as long as there are those who wish to again and again deny that differences exist. We must act if once more our ideals are threatened. Defensive, most definitely. Offensive, even more so if it calls."

Alejandro's face got red. "IT IS NOT OUR PLACE TO INTERVENE IN THE LIVES OF OTHERS!"

"It is our place to intervene in their lives when their lives are about to be ended," replied Rorsch grimly. "And that is what is happening all too often now."

"Yet it is their business to intervene in our own lives? In our own citisens lives? In the very life that flows through our Nations? I fail to see your point."

A satisfied smirk..

Very concious of her lateness, Prime Minister Anne Eriksen walked in after disembarking from her helicopter, which had flown off the aircraft carrier Yggdrasil.

She sat down as quietly as possible and straightened her papers. She wore dark blue and dark red, the color of Callisdrun (blue) and the color of her party. In her late thirties, she still looked fairly youthful, though some of her dark brown hair was starting to go grey and she had the beginnings of laugh-lines.

"And what about those who we are sending to fight? What about the people who DO NOT want change? We should let them fight for themselves, a crutch will not save them." He sat down. 'Maldecion.'

"Sir, the last time my Nation instated a draft was when we were still hunting and gathering. Our army is completely volounteer, and those people fight for they believe in what their Nation stands for."

Those we send to fight are there to do their duty, and it is down to us, the men in this room, and our peers to decide what that duty is. Our duty is surely to protect our comrades in other nations as well as our own? If it is so, then how can you be willing to stand by and let them be killed?

Abakumov cleared his throat. "The ruling class relies on ignorance and misinformation to cement their dominion over the masses. When these methods of coercion fail however, the ruling class has no choice but to violently suppress populist movements under the guise of ensuring domestic serenity. The capitalists know that if the lower castes become class-conscious and began to think independently of the paradigm of private tyranny and ownership that they are conditioned to obey; the entire institution capitalism will fall to pieces. The influx in repression of populist movements that we are witnessing signifies the swelling desperation of the ruling class; they know that the institution that grants them their power and influence is by nature fragile. They know that if the workers of the world wished change, they have nothing to do but fold their arms and the world will stop. The proletariat is more powerful with their hands in their pockets than all the property of the capitalists.” He cleared his throat again “Comrades, the pillar that is capitalism is top-heavy, all we need to do is push it over”

A glance spared.

"Poetic. But late. And somewhat out of context. I'll take it you will support the defense of Communistic Ideals? Yes, that you do."

Alejandro looked down. 'Do they not realize they are igniting them further? They are fueling the fire of hatred? It is a shameful thing." He stood up. "Do as you must..."

"Alejandro, I take it that you are leaving. Before you go, let me make this clear."

If she could stand, she would.

"There is no sense in rolling over onto your back if someone strikes you down, to allow yourself to become more vulnerable. This world can no longer achieve the peace it once held, and the only way to live is to fight."

"I'm suggesting that all out war may not entirely be of necessity, the true war is the war that is taking place in all the slums and factories of the capitalist nations. We will not have to worry about fighting them on the battlefields if their corrupt hierarchies collapse from within"

"I do not intend to leave, I was just conceding defeat - I can not stand in the way of all of you."

Rorsch smiled, tight-lipped. "You cannot stand in the way of reality, comrade. The enemy will strike down all in their path, once their strength is gathered."

"An all out war? Heavens no. I am by no means Imperialistic. With the webs of alliances these days, one would fight a war on two dozen fronts. Rebellions you speak of within the corporations themselves is what I intend to target. Aide, funding, supplies, militaristic might to help the worker. If the worker is put down though by a Corporation or a Country, than that must be taken aside so that the Citisen may live as they wish, for the Citisen is the spine of any Country."

Weight shifted foward to lean in.

"A war by any means is still a war I suppose, whether through aide or through direct attacks. If a worker calls, we shall respond."

Alejandro frowned a bit, looking at him. 'They do not realize they look less and less distinguishable from who they are fighting.'

He stood up. "It dosn't really matter to me, I have no militairy of which to speak of."

"Then we are prepared to agree?" Abakumov inquired.

"If a worker calls, we shall respond, it is as simple as that."

A broad smile, content.

"I am... However, and military moves made by any of my honourable comrades here cannot be officially supported by my government, I will do all I can to help, however."

IC: The Kanabian delegation strolled in, excused their lateness (Aircraft trouble), and wondered around, looking for free food.

More to the point, they needed to know what exactly had been discussed so far.

OOC: Translation "I can't be bothered reading all 130 or so posts in front of this, so please fill me in." :D

][ We've only been speaking for the last Twenty posts or so actually. Conversation starts on page six. Everything else was an introduction or somewhat. ][

Anne spoke up, finally. "I am of the opinion that a large amount of direct aid would be best. Weapons, supplies, et cetera. Callisdrun cannot afford an additional war at the moment."

"I just cannot stand to sit by the sidelines and watch as the Workers are being slaughtered. That ideal will have to be protected. I call that any Nation, that comes to eliminating Communistic ideals, and the people that hold them, that we come to war with that nation. That dosen't mean we go about galavanting on a crusade this very moment, but when the call for war is needed, we should respond to that call. I know I am becoming a bit repetative, but that is what should be done."

"To sit back is merely to feed the enemy. Firm action can - and will - work. We have proven that this day, with The Burnsian Desert." Rorsch smiled again at that. A good bit of work, even if it had been largely bluff. "We must all be ready to stand and fight, and cease heeding the tongues that whisper sweet pleasantries of peace and fortune in our respective ears." He glanced at the Lethislavanian delegate as he said this.

Beep beep. Flip of the caller.

"What of Are Bee? What? No really, what?"

A moment of silence.

"Okay, I think I'm awake now. Repeat that?"

Another moment. A few glances to the other delegates.

"Can one of you look out the window, and see if there are flying pigs?"

Back to the caller.

"So like, I'm sober, right? Really now, what were you going to say? I'm in a conference, I'll check in later."

Click. Flip. Flick.

"Sorry about that."

OOC: Sorry for not posting yet. I have been so overburdoned with work, I havn't got any time for fun.

IC:

An Aztec National League VIP jet approched Hallad. Inside, several delegates prepaired their files and documents. The delegates consited of three military officers, 3 diplomats and 3 Economists. They were upset about their late arival, but, better late then never.

The jet pilots transmited this message "Halladi Authorities, this is ANL VIP Jet 324-09, requesting permission to land to deliever 9 diplomatic officals."

"Fortestan is not willing to support an armed socialist revolution. We think
that a nation should try, at least, to go through a democratic evolution, and
we will only make a military move if those with socialist ideals are truly being
oppressed. I, personally, do not find it necessary to 'convert' every
capitalist nation to a form of socialism. As Fortestan is a supporter of self
determination, we also believe that if the people want socialism, then they
will get socialism, but if they want capitalism, then they will get capitalism.
We are willing to extend this to other nations as well, meaning that we will
serve in a military role to topple an oppressive, anti-socialist government.
Indeed do many things come to pass."

I just want to.. Punch that one..

Fingers tapped to occupy her mind with other thoughts.

"Have you payed mind to not one word that we have spoken? You act as if we're warring the world. Your statement on what the citisen wants is what the citisen gets, is so outrageous and such a ludicrous statement, that I fail to see why you have the mind to inhale, if I may be so blunt! Past this, do you not realise that your statement is one teeming contradiction?"

A puzzled, if not disgusted expression.

"Exactly how am I contradicting myself, my good friend. There are plenty of
right-wing working class people in the world who should not be forced to live
in a socialist system. What I was saying was that we should only declare
war on a nation if the government was limiting the people's freedom to hold
socialist ideals. You say I was not listening to what you have been saying,
but you've been talking about 'answering the workers' call.' A 'workers' call'
could be thought of as simple poverty in a capitalist system, or an armed
socialist uprising. Neither of which I am prepared to go to war over, unless
under certain circumstances."

"Not two seconds ago do you state that 'Fortestan is not willing to support an armed socialist revolution,' yet you follow that with, and I quote, 'We are willing to extend this to other nations as well, meaning that we will serve in a military role to topple an oppressive, anti-socialist government.' You do not call that a contradiciton? And if indeed sir, you have been paying any attention at all, you would realise that not two minutes ago I've stated I myself am not willing to go to war on a dozen or so fronts. To further myself, you stated just this very moment that you are willing to go to war with nations restricting the peoples right to hold socialist ideals."

Anger, much of it.

"And then you top it off by saying you are not willing to go to support a socialist uprising?"

A sneer and she narrowed her eyes. This person ticked her off, entirely too much.

"Sir I ask you to either stop flip flopping, form an opinion of your own, or sew together your lips and stay out of this conversation. So far you have only served to annoy."

"Perhaps I should clarify myself. When I said I would not support an armed
socialist revoution, I meant I would not support a revolution that had not
stemmed from political oppression. My nation is willing to go war, but only
against nations that have actually passed legislation restricting a person's
right to be a socialist. My nation will not go on a 'workers' crusade'
against a nation that is undergoing a socialist revolution, but has not actually
oppressed the people. Socialist revolutions have been started by a few
radicals with a silver tongue who have are simply fed up with the capitalist
system. I believe I am being consistent, and not flip-flopping. I am, after
all, speaking out of concern, for it seems you believe war is always an option."

I only just Noticed this had actually started could some 1 give me a good idea of what has happened so far?

"You sir, simply put, have no mind for thw worker. That is that. Most of the time it as a corporation, not a government. Unregulated industry leads to the opressed worker. And you say that some rebellions have been started by those fed up with the capitlaist system.."

Tiresome.

"..But is that not sir, the point?"

The leatherbound was flipped open, pen taken up and scratched into the paper as she began to take notes on the conference. Seemed as if people were either willing to let others spear them in the gut, and other willing to fight back. Some were already viewed upon in a revelling eye.

"I do believe that you are not being consistant. You do not have a solid view. You are faltering in your opinion. I tell this to you sir, as a fact, and not a matter of opinion. By the way you speak of our situation, I would also like to point out to you that you must know nothing of the proletariat and the cause for them, or you would not be so resistant to bite your tounge."

A small tap with the pen and a glance up to spare.

"As a wise man once said. If you know nothing, then hush. I have yet to hear one statement indicating intelligence, let alone sentient thought."

][ Eastern Standard Time. Might leave soon. For those who are just taking notice, dialouge only begins mid-way through page six. ][

OOC: I beleive it would be safe to assume Hallad let's my delegates it. So I shall continue on. Also, I'm just going to observe for a bit then contribute, since I need to see what's going on.

IC:
The ANL plan gets the go ahead to land at Ryydra. The plane beigns to decend and within 45 minutes, lands at the airport. The delegates got out of the airplane and quickly got into a government car. The car waited until all the bags and such were packed into the trunk and the car left to the conference with much haste.

Several minutes later....

The car pulls up to the conference site. Before any of the delegates are able to take in their surrondings, they unpack what they need out of the car and hurry into the conference center. They walk in, check in and walk into the room where the conference was going on. They begin to look around where to go and then take their places.

"Alright you two. Calm down for a second.", Jack Baker said as he leaned back up from his chair.

"Fortestan brings up a good point. As much as it'd be great to see socialism all over the world, we can't force our ideas on anyone. If we supply every little socialist revolution, the capitalists would soon find out. And then all the capitalists would attack the one socialist, all the socialists would come defend him, and we'd have World War 3 on our hands. Unless it's extremely important, like a very oppresive dictator as Fortestan said, we ought to keep back. You said yourself you don't want to fight a war on dozens of fronts, if we help every revoloution, we'll soon be forced to."

OOC: Sorry to ask this guys, but could postpone this? I just got grounded, for two weeks! Bloody worst timing ever! Really sorry to ask this, but I won't be able to post at all, basically.

Rorsch remained as close to emotionless as he could get, which was pretty close. "Nonetheless, he rejoined," we have to fight for our right to live. We've all watched the recent massacres of our comrades (and those who were merely the wrong skin colour)" - Rorsch hissed - "and many of us have merely sat back and let them get on with it. Too long isolationism and fear have allowed the Right to commit mass-murder, too long the old adage of "national sovereignty" has been employed to avoid taking responsibility for stopping them. Are we men or mice?" he sneered. "I'd say that at this moment, not a few of us are mice."

OOC: That's a bitch man. Will do.

OoC: Sorry I have not been so active, I have been in a internet-free LAN at home. Just imagine Romanov and Ivanov introduced themself in the conference.

Sorry to hear about the grounding. Can't you access NS in school?

IC:

Ivanov had quietly watched the debate and could no longer hold his opinion.

"I will tell you a little story. It is a story of a little nation called the United Socialistic States of Umojan. Umojan was a persporous nation with a strong economy, happy citizens, among the best public healthcare services in the world. However, they also supported freedom fighters through the world. One of these freedom groups killed a number of civilians, and the nation attacked gathered a coaliation of about 3 billion citizens that backed him up against Umojan's, 2 billion citizens. While Umojan is an island, it was an easy target for the attackers and People's Ambassador Ceron Agones was assassinated by Colonel Alora Jones and she took the power, creating the Corporate "Democraty" Umojan, a dictatorship solely ruled by money and greed. They slaughtered followers of socialism and even those who wasn't politicans or soldiers, like dear Jefreto Romanov's wife and two daughters. The were killed while he was away from town, visiting his dead brother's memorial."

The last statement was said with a bowed head of Romanov and a lowered voice of Ivanov.

"Cerongrad and the surrounding territory, the strongest socialistic standpoint in the nation, decided to break free and are now having a rebellion agains't it's oppressors, with me as the military commander. We are now killing capitalists for the sake of freedom. We wish peace, but in the end, the ends justify the means."

Ivanov took a bottle of Vodka from his inner pocket and took some.

"Even though peace is the best, we should NEVER let the capitalists rule over the people."

][ Peachy. Nothing more please untill word from Hallad. ][

((OOC: Sorry, I be playing video games :P))

Rosta turned his laptop towards an empty wall and pressed a button. A slide show like picture appeared. It was a map of Doomingland. Then, a map of Roach-Busters. And it continued to display maps of right-wing nations. Rosta stood up and walked over to the wall, pointing his finger at the maps. "Prime Minister, your thoughts are well, but nations like Generia have a population of 700 Million. If a few hundred workers rise up, who are we to judge what the other workers feel? Maybe the right outnumber the left."

He chuckled. "Hm. Also, some socialist nations might have friendly relations with them. Like us, that puts us in a unique position." He smirked. "If we wanted to, we could gain their trust so much, we could place a base or complex inside. And on the next rebellion, we could attack from the inside." He sighed. "But it's just a thought."

He sat down, the maps still flashing on the wall. "For now, we should send propaganda, win over their hearts. No direct intervention, make the workers more proud. But that's for those who wish to aid. For now, the Island of Rose cannot aid in a revolution or risk hurting relations. Damned if you do and damned if don't as they say."

He looked at the Fodian Prime Minister. "Now, what do you think?"

Fodian? I'm stealing that word.

"Reasonable. But the few hundred that you mention, if a nation were to eliminate those few hundred, what then? Do we sit idly by and watch as blood floods the streets?"

A purse of the lips and eyes were diverted from the presentation to the table top.

"What of the option of political asylum.."

Rosta chuckled. "Hmph. You kill people in courts for charges of paying too much at the toll. That's a reason to invade."

"Ah, Mouvau."

A small nod.

"But the thing about Mouvau is that it is the people who decide that. Anarchaic Districts, however contradictory it may sound, is in essence what Fodmodmadtol is. Fodmodmadtol alone is but an idea. We value the freedoms of the District as it stands alone, and allow the people to find order as they choose. We have but one charter of order on a federal level, and even that only says so much. The Mouvau Courts are being seen to, a forced resignation from the Server pending.. But this is all too off topic.."

Rosta nodded. "Yes. I think my point is, we should not aid every revolution, just those that seem honest and destined to win. Such is the way of the Rose. Ah..."

"Seems reasonable.. But what of it if Honest, yet a weak front? Why should we only aide those who are already have strength? Let the underdog fade away? I stand by asylum in weaker cases.."

A grin as the Roach Busters map flicked onto the wall. She's yet to see a flying pig.. Yet..

"Seems reasonable.. But what of it if Honest, yet a weak front? Why should we only aide those who are already have strength? Let the underdog fade away? I stand by asylum in weaker cases.."

A grin as the Roach Busters map flicked onto the wall. She's yet to see a flying pig.. Yet..

Rosta shrugged. "That's your choice. Anyone else?"

A glance about, a tilt to peer under the table, and a look overhead.

"Where's Hallad? Shouldn't we be drawing up a pact or something? Or is this just a spiffy little book club type discussion."


And the Aides got up to round seventy three of Miss Mary Mac.

'Miss Mary mac, mac, mac'

'All dressed in black, black, black'

'With silver buttons, buttons, buttons'

'All down her back, back, back'

Romanov leaned over to Ivanov and whispered something. Ivanov replied with a quiet but still hearable "No, you shall NOT take out those singers!"

Ivanov turned to the others.

"I understand what you mean with situations where there are only a few hundreds in a nation of millions, but in our example, we have the majority. However, the idea of mass propaganda spreaded through illegal radio channels and the like. Also, if there is any threat to these citizens, I would gladly help arming them and help them leave the country if needed."

Romanov's face darkened and he turned to the delegate of Rose.

"However, only helping nations where you can gain from it, and not humanity, is cowardly. If you work for profit, what kind of work is that? You should work for the unity, not because you are afraid you may lose an ally. Profit for the whole, not for a small part."

Rosta shook his head. "No! You misunderstood me. I meant helping those that have a chance. Not every revolution will suceed. We're not pig dogs." He chuckled at his own joke. "The Island is not corrupt."

"Okay, I am sorry for offending you, but the way you expressed yourself made it look like that, in my eyes that is."

"But then, one shouldn't leave his comrades to fight an unwinable war by himself. You do not need to supply others with soldiers, but you can supply them with funds and arms."

"Okay, I am sorry for offending you, but the way you expressed yourself made it look like that, in my eyes that is."

"But then, one shouldn't leave his comrades to fight an unwinable war by himself. You do not need to supply others with soldiers, but you can supply them with funds and arms."

Rosta chuckled. "No need to apologize. And yes, funding with arms and supplies are okay. Supporting Revolutions are expensive, ask Galaph... he's our Interior Minister." He looked over at the flashing maps. "Want me to stop those flashing maps?"

Rosta chuckled. "No need to apologize. And yes, funding with arms and supplies are okay. Supporting Revolutions are expensive, ask Galaph... he's our Interior Minister." He looked over at the flashing maps. "Want me to stop those flashing maps?"

"I know that supporting revolutions are expensive. Hell, we have one ongoing right now. Actually, I am the military commander, and Romanov here is hired as my bodyguard and to be a second in charge if I buys it during his employment period. Feels kinda unsafe, but with the 15.000 guards or so that guard this conference, we should both be alright."

Dak sat there uncomfortable in his suit, playing with the dinner knife in his hand.

"Before we go off into other countries, we need to be vigilant, so they do not use our tricks against us."

"Yes, we must be vigilant. The capitalists desire wealth as much as we desire justice, and are currently attempting to increase their power in my country. Fortunately, they are not succeeding. The capitalist nations will no doubt hold some sort of conferance similar to this as a reaction." Anne Eriksen was the most recent in a long line of Socialist party Prime Ministers, though more had happened in her term so far than in the previous decade. "Furthermore, the nations where the working people are most oppressed are the places where our aid is needed most. It is expensive, but so are most worthwhile things a government can do."

Rosta scoffs. "I'm sorry. But I feel the need to say something. You people talk about capitalism like it's a demon. Some capitalist nations are not evil baby eaters." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I don't think capitalism is the problem. The economic system is irrelavant in my opinion. It's the leader."

Ahem.. Better not mention the whole, Baby eating thing then..

A smile to rival Joan Rivers.

This time, Romanov, instead of Ivanov, stood up and talked.

"I agree with Rosta, in a bit. While capitalist nations don't, usually, eat children, they do often care nothing about Justice and stuff like that. We should take them out, but not in all out wars, but in guerilla warfare and covert operations. When one nation is taken care of, which shouldn't take too long, we continue to the next one. After a short while, all nations should have realized that our ways are the best and most prosperous, and the ones which don't, will be isolated from the rest of the world."

Rosta slapped himself in the face. "Fine. Capitalists are evil and should be destroyed. Why, let's ignore the nation of Hamptonshire where justice always prevails. Or IDF, another capitalist nation who is not greedy." He smiled. "Or Morathania! Or Sarzonia! No! They only care about money and are unjust to their people! Blah!"

He cleared his throat. "Capitalism is not the enemy, no. The enemy are the dictators that work within the system."

((OOC: Rosians are not idealists. They are mostly centrists, who think both ideas are good.))

"Not all dictatorships are bad.. Late Fodmodmadtol fared quite well.."

No more than a whisper though. Too off topic for her to discuss. She began rubbing her hands together, looking to all of the delegates. She'd managed to pry herself away from the maps that kept scrolling by. Only entertainment in here.. Besides some of the delegates.

"Are you saying sir, that we war Coporations? The companies themselves?"

"Are you saying sir, that we war Coporations? The companies themselves?"

Rosta sighed. "No, I'm saying that our enemies are all of those that oppress the workers, not all the capitalists of the world."

Yevon's delegates had been observing the whole time silently. Finally Assistant Praetor Jareth Cional spoke up. "I believe that we should not incite or instigate any millitary conflict, but should a socialist nation be attacked when no attack was provoked, then we should band together. Together, we could stamp out the right-wing, but what would that do? It would only result in more death and bloodshed. Then our nations would be under the constant attack of the remaining shards of previous nations and inumerable guerillas. The long term effect of military conflict would be detrimental to our cause. As to aiding revolutions, we are all for it. Unless nessessary however, only funding, arms, and provisions should be delivered." he took a deep breath, "I have an idea that is completly unrelated to the current discussion. If the subject is to remote, or we are not ready to move off of the current topic, I will bring it up later. The thought I am thinking of is this: what should we call ourselves? I know that sounds blunt, but we should have a name for this group of socialist nations. Should we meet on a regular basis, or only when we need to be gathered? Should an official meeting place, or haven be erected, or should we meet in existing buildings? I think we should stake out a plot of land somewhere undevolped and set up an official meeting hall where we can host these gatherings. Yevon owns many remote islands that are far from our homeland, and thus, not used. We are willing to donate the land to this cause, should we decide to use it." Jareth sat down and wrote notes down in a notebook rapidly.

"Excuse me if I'm a bit trigger happy at the moment.. But are the ones that opress the workers, not the Coporations? Not all of them of course, but ones such as Adidas, and although Pepsi does sponsor some lovely schools, you cannot certainly believe they have as lovely working conditions for their workers? Outsourcing never did Pepsi good.. You get the point though."

Jennifer Government. Damned. Third time re-reading it.

Rosta chuckled. "Not all corporations have bad working conditions."

A single clap, and a bit recited in a sardonic tone as she looked to the Yevon delegate.

"We should not instigate any attacks if we ourselves are attacked first then? Let then blow off our heads and then charge into a war blinded by passion flailing about in a disorganised mess with only a spoon to aide us? Stamping out the entire-right wing is not something Fodmodmadtol would ever take part in, but if Socialist ideals are threatened, or any ideals one would hold closely for that matter, ideals that are pure and have the best intentions of the people in mind, we will take arms. In that matter though, we would even aide those Capitalist nations, if indeed they care for their people. The citisen is what makes a country! I will repeat that as many times as I need."

"The reason we have met though, is for the reason of recent Capitalists commiting atrocious crimes against Socialists and Communists, so I dare to say I would not think twice of a Capitalist nation at the moment. Sadly, Capitalist nations do not always take the People into mind though, which is why I will spare most nothing more than a passing glance."

"The citisen. The people. The babka. I refuse to allow these senseless masacres to continue. Oh my, the babka."

Babka. Cooporate welfare? Ick! Babka!

"What were we talking about again?"



'She asked her mother mother mother-'

'For fifteen cents cents cents-'

Abakumov stood and adjusting his spectacles began to address his comrades "Capitalism must be fought regardless of how the lower classes are treated by their masters. Capitalism restrained and given a mask of compassion and honesty is still capitalism; there is no “good” form of it. A caged beast is still a beast my friends. The true enemy is the free market system of greed, tyranny and repression, the private ownership and control of resources. As long as the ruling class is free to exploit those beneath them for their exclusive benefit, humanity will never be free.”

"I despise that anology. Might as well say a scrambled egg is still a chicken. I believe I am only repeating myself now, but fighting a war on a dozen different fronts, and stamping out the entire body of Capitlaism, is not the way to go.."

All this speak of Babka and Eggs.. I need some baby..

Abakumov huffed "I am not suggesting war in the least, I do not believe in resorting to the methods of the imperialists in order to destroy them. I am merely stating that liberal capitalism is still perpetuating class struggle, is still the enslavement of the working class; is still indentured servantry to the ruling classes. This Fact of class struggle has been recognized by the great socialist thinking men and women of our time, and is in my opinion indisputable."

OOC: As you can see Lzechans are what they call "hard-liners"

"Then how, my friend, do you intend to fight capitalism?"

"by promoting and encouraging class war in all capitalist nations"

"Simplified, The spread of massive propaganda campaigns to stir rebellion."

Sigh.

"For a second there I thought you would be representing a more agressive idea.. But alas.."

"I'm sure the capitalists will view it as aggressive comrade, which is another reason why we need to show solidarity in the face of our enemies, if all of us are united in arms the capitalists will not be able to silence our voices with truncheons and tear gas like they do to our brothers in their dominions"

"Being viewed as aggressive, and being aggressive are completely different. I was about to say something along the words of pacifist, untill you mention united in arms. That sir, implies war. Choose your wording more carefully and speak a bit more lucidly."

A wink.

"I still believe a more aggressive approach is called for."

Rosta slammed his fist on the table. "Oh shut up! I'm getting sick of this capitalism is evil crap! Haven't I been heard?! The system is not the enemy! It is those who corrupt the system! Capitalism was designed so that corporations would benefit the people! But it was perverted and now we have da da da! Communism!" He gave a mean glare to Lzech. Fucking hardliners. He thought.

"Actually" Abakumov interjected "What I am proposing is a military alliance that would allow for the protection of socialist nations and ideals. War is neither necessary or wanted and can be avoided if we unite. Large-scale war in this day and age is a tremendous waste and must be avoided, but we cannot cower in its face"

Abakumov glared at the incensed Rosian "Actually capitalism was created as a means of legitimizing the ruling class's domination over the masses. It wasn't created to benefit anyone except the ruling class" Petty Beaugeoise Social-Democrats he thought to himself.

If you would all care to use the brains you were born with, I think you will find that capitalism is the enemy. But only when it fights us. Not all of the capitalist world attempts to strangle the ideals of freedom and equality, do they? Those are not our allies, but they are not our enemies either. The perfect model of peaceful co-existence.

However, the Far Right, and the hard-line capitalists, are the enemy, and will always be so, for they will crush the seed planetd in the minds of our comrades who seek their freedom from the shackles of the overlords. These animals are most certainly the enemy. They stand for nothing apart from repression, murder and destruction, for the continual maintenance of the chains that kill millions every year. They must be destroyed, because they will otherwise destroy us!

Abakumov glared at the incensed Rosian "Actually capitalism was created as a means of legitimizing the ruling class's domination over the masses. It wasn't created to benefit anyone except the ruling class" Petty Beaugeoise Social-Democrats he thought to himself.

Rosta threw his hands in the air. "Bah! Whatever! What do I know?! I'm only the friken Foreign Minister of my nation!" He shook his head. "Look, your nation is new to the international stage. We cannot eliminate the capitalists. It's impossible. I suggest we co-exist. And nuke the ones that defy us!"

He laughed. "Kidding! Or am I serious?" He raised his brow.

((OOC: DPUO, was that for me or Lzech?))

"Long has my nation observed from the shadows many world events unfold, we are by no means new. It would be foolish to interpret my words as proposals to "nuke" every capitalist country. I am merely suggesting (once again) that the worker's struggle for freedom should be promoted wherever it is found, I am NOT suggesting creating armed conflicts where they don't already exist. Perhaps if my Rosian comrade were to loosen his tie a bit, he would see this"

"Lord save us. Do you propose to aid every group that flies the red banner? I certainly hope not. I agree that we must fight, and now, but to do that is folly."

Rosta chuckled. "Really? Hm, this coming from the man that thinks that all capitalists are people who dance around the fire naked. That's what I said though, if you were listening. We should not interfere directly in revolutions. Too expensive." He shrugged, then chuckled. "Comrade." He then looked at the Offian comment. "Heh, crazy hardliners." He chuckled and looked at the Lzechian representative. "Kidding!"

"This is true, many revolutionaries could claim socialism as their ideology only to receive aid. We will have to examine each case individually and make our decisions then, but we cannot force our ears to go deaf to the screams of the oppressed"

Abakumov grinned "I would hope our esteemed Rosian comrade would not resort to some breed of pseudo-slander to enforce his arguments"

Abakumov grinned "I would hope our esteemed Rosian comrade would not resort to some breed of pseudo-slander to enforce his arguments"

Rosta just laughed once. "Of course I will! I'm a politician! I'm forced to use slander! Duh!" His German accent really showed that time.

((OOC: Gotta go! See ya!))

A twirl of the hand and she continued in a bored, monotonous expression, staring off blankly at those.. Maps..

"Capitalism was never designed and is only what happenes when you allow people to do whatever the hell they want which is always spurred on by greed which is only human nature.."

"Capitalism is not evil it is just what nature provides for all species of animal, which humans are indeed a part of, for it truly is a dog eat dog world and survival of the fitest if you take away all of the technologies we have come to develop. The problem is that even though we are far above mere squirrels and have developed things to do everything, the inherent greed is still there, and that is what we must aim to- What the hell am I talking about."

She tore out a page, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it at the Lzech Rep.

"What Rosta said."

"Aides and funding to those notable and honest Socialist or Communist rebellions, Asylum to those smaller ones, and all out war on the majorly Opressed and Corrupt corporations that use the worker as a doormat, and no more idle chit chatting when nations execute an entire Socilaist group unless previously provoked through an act of blatant and undeserved aggression."

A dive up for air.

"How does that sound."

Babka babka dacing babka..

Rosta chuckled. "That sounds good."

"About bloody time," muttered Rorsch.

"Mmk. What's next to discuss."

I need some Babka damnit!

Rosta turned off the flashing maps by pressing a button of course. He turned the laptop towards him. After a few fancy computer move, he turned the laptop towards the empty wall again. It displayed ICBMs, different types. Then other military pictures of various nations. "Our military capabilities to know our weaknesses and strengths."

Rorsch sighed regretfully. "It is in our nature to destroy ourselves, isn't it?"

"I hope you don't expect me to not laugh during this.."

..Hypocrites

Alejandro chuckled a bit. 'We are no more mature than an 11 year old..." Sighing, he got up and walked out to go use the restroom.

Rosta leaned back on his chair as he chuckled. "Who cares if we are damned to kill ourselves. We'll look good doing it. As we know, red is sexy!" He laughed out loud at his own joke. "Do you have something better to talk about?"

"Oh, I know it's hypocritical. But all the same, there are days when this whole planet could burn and I wouldn't care."

'Tf? Yishis thoughts where public property now? Ahem HEM.

"My good golly me! How ever shall we due battle in this languid climate we have come to rest oh valiant suitor!"

Mock southern accent, end.

"As much as we all hate the planet, and we all do, we can't just blow it up! Didn't you pay attention in pre-school? The green party would be all over your back. And we all know how annoying they can be."

"Rosta, I suggest medication. Lots of it."

"Aside aside, arms it is then. Now, who has a Military? And better yet, does the soldier have a friend?"

Rorsch gave a hollow laugh. "We have one. Oh, yes, we have one. Costs us two trillion dollars per annum to maintain, too." He sighed. "Sorry. I'm thinking of...some stuff. It's best if I shut up for a bit."

Rosta raised his brow. "I don't need damn medication. We have 11 armies, 40 fleets, and 10,000 special forces soldiers. Aka Rosktai as they are known here." Rosta chuckled. "Not much, but it works. We also have a nuclear program and other secret projects on the works."

Ivanov stood up, drank a bit of vodka, and started:

"It doesn't matter how good trained or how good equipped your armies are, the thing that matters it the morale. If you use nukes or bomb civilian cities from the ocean, the morale of your troops will drop as you kill possible members of the socialistic party."

Ivanov sat down and nodded at Romanov. Romanov took out a small, wallet sized, mechanical module and handed it to his commander. Ivanov pressed on a blue button and placed the module on the table. A holographic view of Umojan and Cerongrad and the different skirmishes since the war broke out six month ago was displayed together with body counts on both sides.

"Since the war began Umojan, (http://www.freewebs.com/umojan) with their well equipped and well trained army bombed Cerongrad and Edoardburg, killing a lot of their former friends and relatives. This have dismoralized the Umojan army and since then, for each soldier killed in the Ceronian army, five have fallen in the Umojan army. They don't have bad commanders, I mean, the nation is controlled by Colonel Alora Jones, and he is a highly decorated officer, and we have seen their troops in battle. The only thing that encourages them to join up is because they can't earn any money in any other way."

Romanov picked up the module and pressed the blue button again, turning of the holograph, and placed it in his inner pocket again.

Rorsch looked puzzled. "I've been a soldier - I was a tanker in the Liberation War. I never cared about the people on the other side of the battle line, because they were out to kill me, be they sitting in a tank or in a factory."

"Gah. Anything we have is.. Fairly non existant. Slim to none at best. And to think we were almost invaded by the Dracun.. I shudder to think what a mess that would have been. An actual build up of anything resembling a fighting power is pretty much, resting on this conference actually."

Flashback! Ack! Clovers!

"Vodka?"

Rosta shrugged. "Our Civil War started in 1930 if I remember correctly. I was just a baby. Bah, I don't know, I'm just 52."

We've lost 12 years?!"

"The Fortestani military is mainly concentrated on home defense. It has been quite some time since a full mobilization of our armed forces. We would likely play a support role if fighting as part of an alliance."

Ivanov nodded to Romanov who took his empty and clean glass and filled it with Vodka and handed it to the Fodmodmadtol delegate. He smiled and said:

"Here, Ceronian's finest, year 1984."

Sighing under his breath Abakumov rolled his eyes after his comrade's semi-coherent lecture on human nature International conference? he thought, Or pretentious junior college coffee shop discussion?. Checking his watch he whispered into his assistant's ear "CSI: Lzechgrad starts in four minutes... call my wife and have her tape it". Buttoning his jacket he stood up to respond to his Ceronian comrade's remarks "Training and equipment don't matter? just morale? So if we take a group of truck drivers and arm them with muskets they'll win as long as they're in good spirits? In my opinion all three share equal importance on the battlefield, and one shouldn't necessarily be emphasized over the other two"

Glass snatch. Sniff.

"Good god how strong is this.."

Small sip.

"Can't very well drink too much.. Shame.. I loved Vodka dearly.. But no, can't very well have a Vodka loving Premier.. Damned.. Freedom of press.. Never was drunk.. Ever.."

Sip sip. Sip.

"I believe we should all wait for Hallad to arrive, eh?"

The Aides went into Patty Cake Extreme. Overtime.

'My-mother-your-father-'

'Had-lemons-and-limes-'

'And-one'

-two-'

-three-'

-four-children-'

'-for-eating-supper-with-'

'-my mother- -'

OCC: I wish some one would tell me what i have missed in this conference so far so i can actually get involved.... Some one please tell me what has happened.

ooc: the discussion begins around page six

"What should we call ourselves? Should we set up a building for the specific purpose of us meeting in it from time to time? Yevon of Spira owns a small isolated island, only 5 miles across, that could be used for this. We are willing to donate this island and would provide workers to build our...sanctum. There is already an airstrip, but no other major work has been done to the island. There are a few foot trails already existing, but they are probally overgrown with weeds and other foliage by now. What do you all say? Should we set up a headquarters for later meetings at the island Tsayar? I could have construction begin today if we want it."

"There is no such thing as we yet. You rush things. I insist we wait for Hallad to further discuss anything. I call for a reccess, anyone else?"

meh, i'm in if everyone else is

"A recess seems appropriate"

"A recess might be good."

Beep beep beep. Flick. Flip. Switch.

"Allo? Yes."

A tired sigh and she glanced to the aides, waving one of them over mouthing the words, 'Laptop.' Two seconds and one was placed in front of her, up and running, applications streaming away.

"I see. Very well then."

Switch. Flip. Flick.

"People, if I may have your attention for a second I would like to alert you all to a crisis taking place at this moment which is exactly what I have been speaking of."

A flurry across the keyboard. The aide set a small box in the center of the table, and it began to project a blue screen into the air as soon as the aide drew away. A few blinks from white to blue, the Federal Seal blipped by, and an application was projecting itself to attention.

"I have just been informed of.. Well.. Take a look for youself."

And the program began running, audio and visual feed emitting from the little projector. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=7206338)

"Tell me, supposed Comrades, what actions would you take."

Rosta shrugged. "Hm, another mass arrest. I'd probably condemn it. God knows how many reds are left now."

((OOC: Sorry, got used to the mass murders >_<))

ooc: read again, nobody has been murdered.

OOC: When is Hallad returning?

OOC: Right now! Can some one sum everything up for me. I don't feel like readning that many pages.

-Fodmodmadtol and TIOR were arguing about military/ capitalism stuff.
-I offered an island if we ever need to have future meetings. I would give up the island and we would comunally run it

I think i missed some stuff too

][ Omg war. Omg stfu no war. Omg aide. Omg contradiction. Omfg rebellion. Omfg 'Aide to honest rebellions and asylum.' stfu. Arguments. Resolution. Recess. ][

Umm...i'm not sure I know what that means. But we don't need to be in recess anymore because Hallad is back.

][ Ob vee us lee. I believe my interpretation summed up the conference thus far pretty well thank-you-very-much. ][

Riiight! :rolleyes:

So, this thing still going on?

Seems to be, sort of.

"So, what happened to the actual discussing, gents? Or are we just sitting here looking ornamental?" asked Rorsch, drinking a glass of half-flat cola. He shuddered, glanced at the liquid, then went back to drinking it.

I'm all for keeping this conferance up. I think we should move to an issue other than military though.

...umm...hello? Are we going to continue this thread?

][ I'm waiting for Hallad.. ][

Hallad is back! I've been trying to tell you. He made a post on page 16 asking what had happened while he was gone.

][ -Facepalm- As in waiting for him to POST. Sheesh. Obviously I know of that if I responded to it. Meh!][

OOC: I don't know how to come in, because I have no idea what's going on!!

And in an expert display of summary and renewal:

"Well I've had my tea, let's get back to bussiness. So far I've been the only one who's wanted to be more aggressive with the Socialist uprisings, Rose has been suggesting to support those that are honest, which I also agree with, but refuses to defend those that are weak, which I disagree with but will settle by offering asylum to Socialists in said Nation. Offian has been for War for the Red, against the Right-Wing. A few delegates who have poofed away since have been opposed to aide all together, believe caiptalism is the devil, or have contradicted themselves into implosion. Most have been dead as nails since arrival. Someone said something about a spiffin' vacation island, some spiffin resort, and peace is non-existant. So far we've only been arguing and moving along ever so slowly.. So if there is something else other than Defence to discuss, and a spiffin Resort for Socialists, please, bring it to attention."

Congrats, You've just won a minivan! Sigh, glance to the door.

"Now, Hallad, if you can please enlighten us with your presence.."

"Unh? Me?" asked Rorsch, who had by now fallen asleep. He took out his pocket airhorn and pressed the switch a few times while aiming into his ear.
"Better."

I am leaving it up to Hallad to decide the next topic of discussion.

...Is this conference still going on? My delegates are over at the cafeteria waiting.

Bump?

][ Harrass Hallad about it :P ][