NationStates Jolt Archive

From their stuffed leather armchairs in front of the roaring fire on the fifth floor of the stately but unassuming brick building in downtown Sofia, the world’s most dastardly intellects considered the status quo. Except for The Great Leader Li of Mass Pwnage. He was far too busy smoking crack to consider anything. But for the other malicious minds, their reflection brought them great trouble. The world was not what it had been a decade ago, that golden age when there had been plenty of fear and subjugation for everyone seemed to be rapidly fading. Everywhere they looked there was freedom of expression, moderate government, democracy, social programs, clean air, enough peace and love to make one retch. Even in the heart of the nationalist bloc, the world’s oldest psychotic dictatorship, Roach-Busters, was undergoing “reforms” for the “common good.” A grim time indeed. The people of the world were crying out to be subjugated and oppressed, to have their hearts once more filled with terror, and to see their compassionate elected leaders replaced by impeccably dressed sociopaths.

Since the failure of the last dastardly plot, not so much due to any shortcomings of the execution of the plan itself but more because of simple apathy and procrastination, the EDLAGC had been dormant. Now however, it was time to bring the organization back to the surface, to assemble once again the planet’s most corrupt, cold, and sadistic minds for the purpose of plotting a new scheme, one far more overly complex and diabolical than the last, the execution of which would bring the organization’s name, or more likely its far simpler acronym, back into the living rooms the world over, and to shake the hold of the forces of justice on the hearts and minds of the global populace. It was time for a change. It was time for the Evil Dictator’s Lounge and Gentleman’s Club to rise again.

So the assembly began. Private letters began appearing on the desks and in the inboxes of those known to be suitable for club membership. More public notices appeared in the form of fliers nailed to posts in seedy districts of major cities in the dead of night, or as brief radio broadcasts on hijacked frequencies.

-----------

Good morning/afternoon/evening Sir/madam and congratulations on having been selected as a suitable candidate for membership in the Evil Dictator’s Lounge and Gentleman’s Club. We of the organization are certain that your lust and affinity for oppressing the weak, stealing from the poor, and defenestrating small mammals will ensure that you contribute well to and enjoy wholeheartedly your membership in the organization. You will find enclosed an address and contact information, and if you are indeed interested, do not delay but proceed immediately to the stated location. Again, we are certain you will not regret indulging this opportunity to step into the company of likeminded souls.

Yours in Sincerity

((OOC: So here’s how it’s going down. Send a suitable character to the doors of the EDLAGC, present a list of your evil exploits, and we’ll say if you get in or not. Eventually this will transition into a period of plotting a dastardly scheme, which we will then carry out in a separate thread, which will allow room for the forces of justice to sign up and participate in an effort to bring our plans to a screeching halt. This is all in good fun, as you’ve already guessed, so I wouldn’t advise attempting to invade Generia in an effort to destroy the club. That’s poor sportsmanship.))

The man who was Jamaica was standing on his yacht in the middle of the Caribbean. He laughed a moment and put the bottle of pure glacial water down. He relaxed backwards in his chair. Every inch a Dredda of great and noble standing. Few would think him one of the best corporate minds in Camel Eaters. He was the master behind the North Island Meat Markets. His younger brother Kinky Wan Duck ran most of the higher parts of those markets though. He was the man who'd designed the IFL and sold it to the government for billions.

He got up and everyone around could immediately see his stomach length dreds. Then they could see the multiple Yakuza style tattoos that covered his black arms and legs. He turned and smirked having read the letter. Teeth that were whiter than they should be gleamed in the sunlight. Teeth that were sharper than they should be too.

His pot-belly was also evident. Not too bad though. A few years of setting up assassinations instead of doing them himself had allowed him a small fortune of a lucrative "protection agency" walking through the massive yacht the eight or so incredibly attractive women on board winked here and there. The finest women that the Congo and Hong Kong had to offer. He sat down and did a quick scan on the North Island markets. Up 20% "Fuckin kickin'." It was Christmas after all. And what would Christmas be without sun dried rapist liver?

He sat back down in the chair a few minutes later and let one of the nice latina girls pleasure him. It was good to be alive. "Ja driver man! Take it out to Generia. We's got enough fuel and ja car man! Get me's low rider!"

He settled back and thought about the dastardly plots ahead.......

OOC:

Benji Ja Smithers de Killa. A celebrated corporate raider, former gang leader, venture capitalist, gun smuggler, financier of the Buchianan Manhunters, runs the number one assassins corps in CE and is also a noted lover of chocolate......aye then.

Dear Evil Dictator's Lounge and Gentleman's Club,

As soon as these ingrates release me from the insane asylum, I would be honored to once again join this prestigious organization. As for my 'evil deeds,' well, I think the record speaks for itself.

Sincerely,
Generalissimo J.L.

((OOC: So here’s how it’s going down. Send a suitable character to the doors of the EDLAGC, present a list of your evil exploits, and we’ll say if you get in or not. Eventually this will transition into a period of plotting a dastardly scheme, which we will then carry out in a separate thread, which will allow room for the forces of justice to sign up and participate in an effort to bring our plans to a screeching halt. This is all in good fun, as you’ve already guessed, so I wouldn’t advise attempting to invade Generia in an effort to destroy the club. That’s poor sportsmanship.))
Everyonce in a great a while, a man causes such a comotion amongst the people that he cannot be ignored. Cyrus Lanier was one of these people. Having risen and assassinated his way through the ranks of the Mercenary State of Nation of Fortune, he had long ago forgotten his real name. Having assumed leadership, and the name, at the age of thirty just as many years ago had made him cautious.

Krunk, Krunk, Krunk

Footsteps pounded down the hall as he reached for his weapon of choice, an old Thompson with a drum of bullets on the top.

Creeeeeaaaak

The door moaned as it opened. The SMG was raised and pointed at the fool who dared enter his domain. The barrel still stayed pointed at him as the cougar in the room tackled the man, or rather boy.

"State your business," Cyrus said in a flat voice.

"Sir! I'm here to deliver a message to you from The Evil Dictator’s Lounge and Gentleman’s Club. It appears you were in attendance some time ago," the boy said, not at all surprised as to what had happened upon his entrance.

"Ehhhhh," he said, losing sight of the situation for a moment, "That got terminated a while ago. Give me the letter and leave."

"Yes sir."

"One last thing, prepare transport to the club, and get my weapons ready."

"Aye Aye Sir," the boy said before running out into the hall, making sure to clsoe the door behind him.

bump

Can Alien FT nations join?

Only if you pass my test oh Horde one.

Nathan Rahl chuckled as his Mord'Sith Body guard told of the radio hijacks and notes all over Aydindril. "Would have been easier to just deliver one message to me," he said.
Silence greeted him. Cara knew not to speak unless asked a direct question, she had many scars to tell the tale of past blunders, and many graves outside were all the remained of past failures. While ruthless, Cara knew that Lord Rahl was not a bad ruler. No DHaran would dare to even think that. Without Master Rahl, what would life be for? He gave them direction, purpose, and protection.
"Has Alter'Rang been put underfoot yet?"
"Yes Lord Rahl."
"Good, bring me Jagang (Emporor of Alter'Rang) alive, I want to...talk to him."
Being a man of meticulus, and sometimes irritating, detail, he enjoyed to keep his mind sharp doing some of the dirty work himself. Besides, it would be an interesting diversion. Having tortured to death the rulers of five lands before putting them under the rule of DHara, he was getting good at it. It was nice to torture other subjects for a change. The slaves from those weaker nations did the low-level jobs, so that the mighty DHaran race wouldn't be bothered with such menial tasks.
Wiping the gore from his body seven hours later, Nathan was pleased with the longevitude of that man. He was also pleased that he had come to a decision, he would join this 'club.' It presented interesting opportunities to make new aliances with similar nations, not to mention offering the democratic "lambs" up to the slaughter at the hands of his elite war machine.
He enjoyed the thought of another day like today, and wondered how long a democratic leaders screems would last...

Rather then wait for some parade or such things, the Mongoloids had just landed a UFO in the woods, and went to the house. Lord K'trek was sure that some organisms would come in diffrent ways, but he just decided to walk up to the place. With his phase shifter he was invisable, walking a fine line between this dimension and the next. When he arrived at the house he took a quick look around to make sure noone was around, and became visable once more.

http://alicia-logic.com/capsimages/ma_082Martians.jpg
(Just so you know what we look like)

He wasn't quite sure how to tackle the thing before him. It was a rectangle, brown, and had some little knob on it. Tripod pilots on Juniper had been having the same problem. They reported that to get in, one should hit the door, and an organism will open the orifice. So Lord K'trek began punching the door. Luckly, whenever it was answered, Lord K'trek(with his handy dandy transla-o-box) would greet the organism in the way the studies showed they usally did.

He would say in his language "Ack, ack ack ack ack!"
The box would light up and in a very cheesy robot voice say:
"Greetings flesh pile! 2 for one fridays begin!"

Three black TC-11 helicopters overflew the city of Sofia, three raven-like shadows in the steel-gray sky of Generia. As they neared the center of the city, they began to descend, circling ever lower over the downtown district. As two stopped and hovered over a small, nondescript brick building, the third descended, and several ropes dropped to the pavement. Seconds later, a group of black-clad bodyguards slid down the ropes, landing without a sound on the pavement below. The two other choppers disgorged similar amounts of guards directly onto the roof and sides of the building. All the men took up defensive positions. The last man out of the lead helicopter descended even faster than the others, owing largely to his fifteen years of Special Forces experience. He hit the pavement and immediately started toward the door of the brick structure, long black hair swirling around his head in the chopper’s wind, creating the effect of a dark, demonic halo. Entirely appropriate for today’s business. His ranks of bodyguards closed around him as he approached the building doors.

A grizzled Sawney stood at the door, smirking at the newcomer. He held up a hand to stop the group.

“You want to get in here, do ye now? And just who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

”Saul Hudson of Freudotopia. I am a personal friend of Kazatmiru. Stand down.”

“Not so fast, laddie. I've got to check up on yer accomplishments, if ye ken.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s really necessary. You haven’t been here long, have you?”

Hudson grinned tersely, and withdrew a letter in an envelope from inside his leather jacket. He handed it over to the Sawney and waited. The bulky man tore the envelope open and unfolded the letter inside. His eyes began to widen with each line he read.

After five minutes, the guard shook his head ruefully, gave the letter back to Hudson, and waved them in. “Sorry I asked,” he muttered.

bump for response

The Generalissimo entered the room, conspicuously dressed in his trademark military attire. He rendered a sharp salute. "Good day, everyone," he said, having a seat. With him were two extremely beautiful women. One was his new woman, Christine Peralta. The other was his daughter, a strikingly pulchritudinous woman in her early twenties, named Lina. Lina's smile sparkled like polished gold, only infinitely more lovely. Almost every man who had ever laid eyes upon her found that he had to change his trousers just seconds afterwards. She was polite to a fault, good-humored, always smiling, generous, and courteous. A gentler soul had never existed. The Generalissimo was very protective of her. He had once brained a man for coming onto her too strongly.

Christine sat on the Generalissimo's lap, and rested her head on his shoulder, as he put his arms around her.

Lina took the seat next to them, and smiled shyly at Emperor Kazatmiru. She blushed, giggling. He's quite handsome, she thought, but was too shy to say so. I wish Daddy would introduce us.

Finally, J.L.'s bodyguard, an enigmatic, taciturn ninja with extraordinarily powerful telekinesis, hovered into the room, struck a fighting pose, and did a series of backflips in the air, landing in front of his master.

The bodyguard (http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y160/Roach-Busters/redguy.jpg)

Bump for new posts and responses.

The Duke read with some amusement the flyer his aide handed to him.

" So, finally we have an organization who has little if any social conscience and doesn't pander to political correctness. Sounds like our kind of people." The Duke swallowed the last swig of beer, belched loudly, and threw the bottle out of the window, grinning with satisfaction at the sound of breaking glass.

" The Generic Empire. I do believe that the Empire had dealings with them in the past. So we're not total strangers. OK, captain, let's see if we qualify for this 'Men's Club'."
___________________________________________________________________

Gentlemen,

I am most interested in your "Club". If you are looking for the most vile, disgusting and ruthless stories of conquest, war, and rape, perhaps I can supply you with one or two.

Back in the day, the Grey Legions were part of the Xeraphian Empire. The Emperor would let us loose once in a while, but we were always itching for more action. When the tribes of our northern region thought to rebel, we took time out of our busy day to make an example of them.

After soundly defeating them, we rounded up the survivors, women and children included, and ran them through a 1/4 mile long gauntlet, where they were pounded with truncheons, had various waste products hurled at them, and then driven into an open pit where we had placed reptiles, predominently snapping turtles. Several of the children survived this humiliation, and are now servants in the bars of our naval ports, where they are daily subject to the whims of the sailors enjoying shore leave.

However, my personal favorite is the time when two of the newer nations of the Empire rebelled, Wolfanga and Crawling Death.

Crawling Death's president, H.R. Klintin, was the ringleader. She plotted the rebellion, and murdered all of the senators of the nation. Wulf, King of Wolfanga, who was not the brightest bulb in the pack, went along for the ride.

Long story short, after a somewhat prolonged battle in which the rebel forces were all incinerated with our new version of napalm, we captured both leaders.

Wulf was crucified, his wrists and ankles bolted to a cross of concrete, a spike shoved so far up his ass that he could feel it tickling his tonsils.

Ms. Klintin was dumped inbto a cesspool for a day or so, and then shipped off to a military brothel off the coast of Xeraph.

OK, how's that for loathsome and disgusting behavior?

"Damnit Kazatmiru.... a giant laser just wouldn't WORK! It wouldn't! It would be much more efficient just to blow up the next Sarzonian government parade with a few kilos of C4 under each car." Maia Li was in a rather fierce arguement with Emperor Kazatmiru I of the Bold Imperium of Generic Empire, her red eyes blazing with fury.

"Bombs are a coward's way out, it's cliche and complete unmanly! A laser, look how manly it is!" yelled back Kazatmiru as he waved around an expensive Freudotopian cigar.

A nearby Shooban screamed in pain as hot ashes were flicked into its face. It staggered around clutching at its face, prolonging its life for a full three seconds before a dozen huge lizardmen in Imperial Guard battle armor swooped down upon it and ripped it to shreds.

"Anyway.... let's continue.... NO ONE FUCKING CARES THAT YOU'RE TRYING TO COMPENSATE FOR SOMETHING DAMNIT!"

"YOU WOULD KNOW ABOUT THAT YOU FUCKING DYKE!"

"HEY, I LEAST I CAN GET SOME WITHOUT HAVING TO PUT A GUN TO A POOR GIRL'S HEAD!"

"HEY! I CAN GET ANYONE I WANT!"

"YEA, WITH YOUR WALLET!"

In the corner, the Great Leader quietly shook his head. This argument about the nature of the dastardly plot was getting nowhere. And he was running out of crack.... And he didn't quite have enough heroin on him to get a decent buzz. Damn. That means actually turning around.

"Couldn't you just use bombs AND lasers at the same time? This way, Kazatmiru gets his electricity sucking sex-I mean playtoy, and we actually get something that would WORK. And try to make it so that I won't be disturbed, alright?"

Kazatmiru stared at the Great Leader with a look of scorn on his face.

The Great Leader pulled out a turkey injector sized syringe filled with a syrupy black liquid.

"Kazatmiru. If you really want to prove that you're not compensating for something, stick this into your aorta and push the plunger to the bottom. The stuff's Prime Reserve anyway. Why let it go to waste?"

((OOC: I shall respond when I'm satisfied that sufficient attention has been paid to the thread and sufficient responses have been made. That can be translated to mean sometime in the next few days when I'm in the mood to write the reply.))

OOC: AARGH! Freudy me lad. That's not how Sawneys talk. They're respectful and have pride. And speak in Scots. I shall have to AOL just to correct you.

The doors of the club where once again tossed open. Boldly striding through the portal was a towering figure clad from the neck down in dark armor, a gladius adorning his right side, his helm tucked under his left arm. His hardened, scarred face had on a broad grin.

This was Maximus' first time in the hallowed halls of the EDLGC.

His father, a normal patron of the club, was unfortunately absent for some unexplicable reason.

He streched out, his fingers wiggling in his gauntlets, and yawned. He had just escaped from his room in the Citadel in which he had been confined to his bed, so greivous were his wounds from the Battle of Port Belgrade. He had been forced to knock out several guards in order to get out. That was more than enough to get his blood running after nearly a week without bloodshed of any sort.

Kazatmiru would no doubt be pleasently surprised to see his nephew present at the club. It was he whom Maximus first approached,

"Kaz, long time no see," he said happily.

He looked around the room at all present. Seeing JL, he spoke up,

"Ah, JL, I see they finally wised up and released you from the insane asylum. How was it in there? I trust they treated you well."

OOC: So, what would the IC requirements be? Must they have existed before?

OOC: Can a <agotek nation Join? Of so, then I will send Daigalleon, most Feared of The Mad God of Darkness's servant's, as I assume Kajeenith himself would be a little too over the top, unless you'd accept his Avatar...

Amd yes, there are even Rules Gods and their avatar's must follow to keep things fair. Give me a Chance, and I'll show you good old fashioned villianry, the likes of which haven't been seen in RL or in NS for a good Age or two.

OOC: Can a <agotek nation Join? Of so, then I will send Daigalleon, most Feared of The Mad God of Darkness's servant's, as I assume Kajeenith himself would be a little too over the top, unless you'd accept his Avatar...

Amd yes, there are even Rules Gods and their avatar's must follow to keep things fair. Give me a Chance, and I'll show you good old fashioned villianry, the likes of which haven't been seen in RL or in NS for a good Age or two.

((OOC: I don't know what "<agotek" is. If you'd be so good as to explain, I'd certainly give you fair consideration.))

Must they have existed before?

((OOC: I'm not sure I know what you mean.))

((OOC: I'm not sure I know what you mean.))

OOC: Mentioned before IC

((OOC: I don't know what "<agotek" is. If you'd be so good as to explain, I'd certainly give you fair consideration.))
OOC: Stupid Fingers, ahh well, I meant to tipe Magitek Nation, as in Magick, Gods, and the whole nine yards. I play the Darker sides of it, and Human nature.

The doors again opened. A feable man stepped threw the door looking around at all the others. He was hunched back and had many wrinkles upon his face. Both eyes were of diffrent colors. A tall man in a trench coat behind him closed the doors and handed the older man his cain.


The older man was Mike von strangaild. He at one time was a cruel dictaor of Zackaroth. he would toture people in crude ways that he made up himself. He implented a law that if a family ran out of there 200 food stamps they would have to chop off one of there hands. He would take people from there houses at night and have them put in a lab where they would be implented to all kinds of Frakinstien-esque tests.


But he was overthrown but not forgotten as he stilled worked in the shadows. This club may be help grant him his revenge. He slowly made his way to a chair and sat down quietly.

Cyrus aproached the address indicated on the card, his M-16 ready for a single aggressive movement. His favorite weapon was getting old, and unsuitable to use in the field, and despite his wishes he knew that this was getting to be the case with himself as well. Despite this fact he still trained hard every day, his hair getting greyer with each passing day. He stopped to cough, old age was a bitch. He looked at his only travelling companion, Trilly, his long time friend and trusted partner. Trilly was a cougar, and age was getting the best of her as well, although she was still a deadly force.

Cyrus continued on, and arrived at the door. He pulled a letter out of his specially designed suit, and handed it to the door man. WHile he waited for the doorman to read the letter his thougths moved on to his suit, why had he chosen to wear this uncomfortable thing? He pondered that for a second before realizeing that his old age was kicking in, and this suit managed to reduce the arthritis that was effecting his knees.


Killing many people in cold blood
Ordering for almost an entire military force to rape and plunder the goods of a nations capitol
Torturing the leader of a nation (He's still quite alive and in our custody if you want him)
Creating a program that kills half of our nations children
Killed parents with baseball bat at age of seven
Held a foreign school hostage for money
set fire to said school
put closest friend in an insane asylum
Killed many aides jsut for entering his office
Started a war just to watch people suffer and die
oppresses the children of the nation, and forces them into military work.


He coughed once before saying to the doorman, "May it also be noted that I was one of the original members of this club before it closed down for the first time." His finger itched at the trigger, but he didn't fire.

OOC: Cyrus (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v650/deathwitharifle/NofianLeader.jpg)

OOC: AARGH! Freudy me lad. That's not how Sawneys talk. They're respectful and have pride. And speak in Scots. I shall have to AOL just to correct you.

OOC: Ach! I'll spot ye the point. I'm a Scotsman meself, y'ken?

Our dear President is considered a Dictator by some, but a benevolent one at that. He took power in a Coup, for he felt the government before was too evil.

He lives in a small house, that was built with no proper knowledge, just some bricks placed on the floor, cemented together, and then had the walls put up, and from here he then put a steel plank of metal to cover up the hole and make a roof. He combined the roof to the building with super glue, and had some small card gluded over the bricks, to seal the place from the rain, and glued paper to the walls in the building, put a metal plank on the ground which was also glued, and glued carpet to that. Overall the place could fall apart at any moment, and is extremely shabby. He cant really be called a dictator at all. Not to mention the fact that the ground around the compound is extremely wet, and can shift at any time making the place unsafe. There is also no airconditioning, or fans, and the building is decomposing with the temperatures. He has his cabinet meetings here, sleeps here, eats here, and never leaves.

While he may be a benevolent leader, he wants to meet other leaders to swap ideas on development, may he please come to have a special visit?

Our dear President is considered a Dictator by some, but a benevolent one at that. He took power in a Coup, for he felt the government before was too evil.

He lives in a small house, that was built with no proper knowledge, just some bricks placed on the floor, cemented together, and then had the walls put up, and from here he then put a steel plank of metal to cover up the hole and make a roof. He combined the roof to the building with super glue, and had some small card gluded over the bricks, to seal the place from the rain, and glued paper to the walls in the building, put a metal plank on the ground which was also glued, and glued carpet to that. Overall the place could fall apart at any moment, and is extremely shabby. He cant really be called a dictator at all. Not to mention the fact that the ground around the compound is extremely wet, and can shift at any time making the place unsafe. There is also no airconditioning, or fans, and the building is decomposing with the temperatures. He has his cabinet meetings here, sleeps here, eats here, and never leaves.

While he may be a benevolent leader, he wants to meet other leaders to swap ideas on development, may he please come to have a special visit?

OOC: I dunno about this one... Of course, GE's in charge.

The snow heavily fell into the grey streets of Tealds Empire. But it’s expected isn’t it? Teald allows no color outside unless it is grey or green. No one knows why, Maybe Teald does. But it’s doubtable...

His men trudged though the 4ft of snow carrying many unrecognizable items, yards and yards of wire trailing behind them, stopping every now and again to erect masts in the street to hold the cables. There fully covered made curtains close and windows slam at every angle. The appearance of these shadow like soldiers meant something big was about to happen.

They neared Tealds tower, the skyscraping monstrosity of a building. Its 2 iron gates were pulled open and the horde of men piled through the door, Metal boxes and crates in hand. The man at the front of the pack slammed his rifle butt to the floor and saluted shouting.

"Hail Teald"

The doormen returned the gesture and closed the iron gates as the last man entered. The interior of the tower was plastered with iron symbols of Teald, and in the middle a Statue of the man himself. It showed him at ease looking into the sky smiling. He wore a long coat, gloves, boots and a hat similar to the one that the Russian empire used to wear.

All of the men washed around the statue to the near elevators and staircases. The metal doors slid open and man after man sifted into them. Some men taking the stairs unconcerned by this possible hindrance. Nevertheless they all ended up on floor 32 waiting patiently outside another iron door, Similar in its vast magnificence as the front. They were pulled upon with 2 chains by another set of door men, yet these 2 had a difference. They were armed with 2 ppsh's. Standard issue submachine guns in Tealds Empire.

The next thing to bless the eyes of the men was a vast room. Bright green tapestries hung on the walls and ceilings with the black symbol seen almost anywhere in the Empire sewn into them. Bright green Arm chairs and screens were dotted around the rooms.

The, what now seemed apparent leader of the pack spoke up.

"Emperor Teald Sir! We bring news that might concern you."

A man exactly the same as the statue downstairs stood up from a green armchair next to one of the glowing screens. At this action every single man exclaimed.

"Hail Teald!"

Teald himself was the next to speak.

"Set up the equipment."

His gravely voice made each and every soldier seem to spring into life as they parted and the 5 men holding cables plugged them into near walls. The Screens all went Green. Next to move were the men with the metallic boxes, they seemed to gasp as they placed them on the floor, (obviously from the sheer weight they had been carrying). Latches were unclipped on each box and speakers with buttons all around there rims sprung out like jack in the boxes. They went with the other 5 and lined up in a square formation saluting. The last to set up there items were the men holding wooden crates. They opened the windows and attached long aerial poles to the side of the building. The set up was complete.

"What are we picking up then" Spoke Teald.

"We have intercepted a transmission from the Fabled EDLAGC!”

“WHAT?! Quick! Let me here!”

A message repeated through the speakers with several of Tealds’ men moving about pressing various buttons making the message clearer and jotting down addresses, dates, times etc.

Teald sat back down as the message repeated in his mind. He finally typed in a few things on his personal keyboard and a siren was sounded.

“….Tonight. We move. PREPARE THE CONVOY!”

All of his men screamed “HAIL TEALD” And ran down the stairs taking the wires/crates/boxes with them. Tealds mouth twisted into a sinister smile and gazed out of his window.

OOC: This is my Rebel Admiral, a completly seperate entity from Novacom.

IC: Vladimir would shudder as he approached the door of the fabled EDLAGC, Hs still bore the bruises of being kicked into action, The Admiral deep in his brooding rage over something or other, he remembered the phrase Xirnium being mentioned several times, Best forgotten really, the last Aise to the Admiral had become aquainted with General Drejas, he still looked in fairly good health, if a head mounted on a wall could be called "good health" He had been insturcted to present credentials to join what the Admiral had called, "Great Comrades in arms, they shall help us in our desires to bring about a new world order," There had been more of course, there were times when he doubted the existence of propogande, that was one of them, the Admiral genuinely seemed to beleive what he uttered, A Disturbing thought.

A great bang would sound as the door would be knocked on, the cold air biting at Vladimir's skin, his eyes were reddening and his hands were cold and stiff, he would raise a hand towards the person who had opened the door, in it would be a letter, Upon opening it would read,

To The Evil Dictator’s Lounge and Gentleman’s Club, I thank you for your gracious invitation and hope that my credentials and exploits of those under my command, below qualify me for membership, I look forward to scheming with you in the future.

Personally lead a great campaign against our most hated of Enemies, kiling in excess of 1 billion civilians and 2 million Military Personell in less than a week.
Created the Blood Guard, a Fanatical army that is extremly fond of decaptiation, execution and torture.
Resserected the Religous Cult of the Diri E I G Ignen and launched countless campaigns for human sacrifices to their gods.
My most Able Commander, General Drejas, has butchered countless millions and has a fondness for mounting the decapitated heads of enemy commanders on his office wall.
Summoned Korodomir, the Goddess of the land beyond's Avatar of Evil to wreak death and destruction on the homelands of my enemies.
Gathered 17 trillion litres of blood for a ritual bathing of the Diri E I G Ingen Cult Statues.
Developed a host of Bio Weapons that specifically target the digestive system, meaning that the victim will starve to death.

The list goes on for several pages, on the last sheet written in what looks suspiciously like blood is one final note, Please Telegram me a response at your earliest possible convinence and please forward the head of the messenger to General Drejas.

Signed
Admiral Kukonois

Vladimir would look up hopefully at the man, his eyes glimmering, hoping for a word of praise, even better perhaps to be dismissed, after which hopefully he would be able to escape, he wasn't like the others he knew that. He had been told when he was young that a sacrifical victim had given birth to him, however though it was an insult to the gods to waste the time on such a small sacrifice, by some miracle he had been able to prove his worth at a later age and escape one sacrifice, but now he was about to become one.

SIC...

The Executive Residence, Federal Capitol District, The United States of Allemande Good morning/afternoon/evening Sir/madam and congratulations on having been selected as a suitable candidate for membership in the Evil Dictator’s Lounge and Gentleman’s Club. We of the organization are certain that your lust and affinity for oppressing the weak, stealing from the poor, and defenestrating small mammals will ensure that you contribute well to and enjoy wholeheartedly your membership in the organization. You will find enclosed an address and contact information, and if you are indeed interested, do not delay but proceed immediately to the stated location. Again, we are certain you will not regret indulging this opportunity to step into the company of likeminded souls.

Yours in Sincerity“They can’t be serious,” said President Michael Blum.

“They are,” replied Secretary of State Edith Mayenne.

“And we got this precisely how?” the President asked. “Or maybe I should ask if I want to know how...”

“You don’t, but I have the duty to tell you,” replied the Secretary of State and the Liberal Party’s second leading politician. “We’ve bugged Paul Kaufman’s penthouse, of course.”

“You understand that you can’t word of this get to the Attorney General or anyone in Justice, right?” asked Blum rehetorically.

Edith Mayenne smiled. “Of course. But we’re still trying to get at the last of President Kaufman’s embezzled funds, and the only way to do that is to tap his phone and monitor his Internet traffic. Miltary Intelligence is doing it, and as a safeguard we have a JAG officer editing the transcripts and erasing anything on the tapes that would compromise Mr. Kaufman’s defence – were they to fall into the wrong hands.”

“In other words, we’re sitting on a possible scandal of the first order, but there would still be a chance of convicting that s_n_f_b_tch even if it all blew up in our faces, right?” asked the President.

“Correct, Mr. President,” replied Mayenne.

“O.K., then just keep me posted. Usually these grandiose evil schemes fall apart of their own dead weight,” mused President Blum aloud, “But that’s no reason not to keep our eyes on this one all the same.”OOC: As background, Paul Kaufman is currently awaiting trial for murder in the United States of Allemande. He should not have to submit a resume; his acceptance should be automatic.

He looked around the room at all present. Seeing JL, he spoke up,

"Ah, JL, I see they finally wised up and released you from the insane asylum. How was it in there? I trust they treated you well."

J.L. nodded curtly. "Hello, Maximus. It is an honor to meet you."

Tealds grey snow covered trucks rolled up to the outside of the building. He stepped out of the truck toting his formal wear. A bright green Commanders uniform complete with a flowing black cape.. his broad shoulders showing it off magnificantly. His shaved head toted his mark.

His soldiers saluted and returned to the trucks departing with a low roar. His black boots crunched on the ground as he strode towards the doors....

Potty 5 water’s days ago:
A ship enters into the waters, and is spotted well before it starts its illegal broadcast. The Potty 5 Air Force scrambles 5 jets to stand by to intercept the small boat, but is hesitant as Potty 5 sees it waters extend far farther out then most other nations. The ship passes closer and closer to shore and begins its illegal broadcast. The jets get in formation to launch anti-ship missiles if the ship does not heed Potty 5’s warnings. But the warnings are never sent and the jets are called off.

The Evil Dictator’s Lounge and Gentleman’s Club present time:
A man in a very lavishly embroidered (with platinum and white gold) black silk robe enters the room. He stands not a hare over 5’7”, would be notably skinny if not for his clothing. His eyebrows and long, and his bread though of good length is thin unlike his eyebrows. If any thing is to be said about his appearance he looks old, and his fingernails are quite long for a man.
With him are two beautiful, petite, young girls that look like they can’t be out of high school. They are dressed in Japanese style kimonos, also black with similar embroidery to that of the older man.

The old man speaks: “I have heard your message, and I would like to join your club. You say I must have notable evilness."

"Well though I have led my nation of Potty 5 to the greatest of any person’s ability and have show benevolence in my rule, I ashore you I did so only for my own goals. No how am I evil?” he takes a pause and starts speaking again.

“Well I my country polygamy, homosexuality, abortion, bestiality, leisure drug use, prostitution are all legal. Also there is no censorship of adult/pornographic or violent content in any form of media. Children the age of 14 and above are able to give ‘informed consent’, appear in pornography, and utilize the services of prostitutes. At age 16 they may become prostitutes. Corporations are allowed to pay their employs what ever the employ is willing to work for, and though unions are completely legal corporations are allowed to bring in outside workers. Also cabalism is legal as are duals.” He pauses.

“I also have conducted an open air nuclear weapons test, just prior to coming here”

“Now for what I have personally done: I am undeniable a lecher, and frequent have extramarital affairs, even though I have over 400 concubines."

"I am a glutton, consuming far greater food, and drink then is necessary for me, or my guests."

"I am greedy, as my solid control of a nation and my extravagant clothing may show."

"I also am inherently lazy and seldom partake in physical activity."

"It could be said that my love of justice is perverted to revenge and spite, credit Dante for those words, as my nation is known for it very harsh punishments, which range from all form of corporal punishment including torture, dismemberment, and executions, often swift I might add. Also the most prominent punishment is the renting of prisoners to corporations and business as cheap labor. Did I mention that it is also practice to take the blood of convicted for medical use."

"With that last statement maby it seems I take joy it causing pain to other, this is not totaly false"

"It should also be said that I take great pride in my work as a dictator, and lecher. So that is 6 out of 7 of the deadly sins.” The old dictator makes a sigh.

“Did I mention that most people outside of my nation think of me as insane? I am Emperor Fat Monkey 13, an immortal that is older then this incarnation of the universe. I have been to hell, and many a times have come back.”

The old man makes smiles a strange, slightly menacing smile “Oh, did I mention that my army is composed of people, who are either bred through an extensive genetic engineering program (the old type, like with cattle)"

"or are abducted from there mother at birth in order to train them from that day forth to be soulless killers, or what ever other military profession they are needed to fulfill. Soulless killers are not the best all round troops you know, some times they are a little too gung ho and well…”

He takes swallows to clear his throat. “Well am I evil enough for you?, All in all is see evil as an invention of humans that has no real value, I might say that about alcohol too but, then I may be a hypocrite; but what I meant more to say was evil is like morals, subjective and maid up, the superior man can see that morals and the concept of evil are just obsticals put in his way by lesser men"

OOC: This information is available IC to only those who could have come upon it IC. This limits that to people who are currently in the Evil Dictator’s Lounge and Gentleman’s Club. Just saying this so no nation decides that Potty 5 is an evil empire and must be stopped, this is very important as Potty 5 reveals in Nuclear weapons program but The Emperor is far more interested in maintaining his power then destroying the world (though more power/money/land/weapons/girls would be better).

Teald Laughs slightly as he listens to the mans monologe, standing a mear 2 ft away with 2 heavily armed men at his side in full faced helmets.

"Are we supposed to be impressed?"

He pushes past the man his cape hitting the door frame with a thud... Almost lead like sound. The 2 men follow and stand either side of Teald unmoveing and silent. Teald clicks his fingers and smirks at the "Fat Monkey"...
His men quickly jump to action takeing his cape and putting it somewhere approptiate.

"Though, I am a fan of indulgence myself..." He lets a curling grin break the tension.

Benji was in the corner absolutely disgusted. He shook his heavily dredded head and sat down. Moving a bunny slippered foot (yes the most evil man always wears bunny slippers) to scratch the other he blinked at the Tealdians and the Potty man.

"Si' doon for I gez some Sawnuvva to take yae oot. Bo'cha nuttin but disgrashe to da naema of eeeevail. I fin jah bo in contemp. I seaz Sawneys eat choo. Say wha from roun? You tink so Kazatmiru? How bout cha Li? Sawney eat dem fast and Sawney eat dem well. I hate deez wannabes. Teald boy have a gaad fight a Sawney. See who win. Udder dan da, seet dow."

He glanced at a Sawney guard who was nearly asleep in the corner. His green and black kilt fading well against itself. The sporran of rabbit skin containing tools of murder and degradation. And some rouge to highlight the cheeks a bit.

"Sawney! In da naema of da Hannunn I say yae step foorurd!"

The Sawney's eyes went wide and he rushed to Ja Smithers side.

"Aye ma laird?"

"Stay der, Jah mae gotta figh' some Tealda."

"Whaz a Tealda........ma laird?"

"Well we're about to learn what makes their metal."

"Hm.. You are jokeing? Some joke in a skirt? Please."

"Whats the rules? Fists? Weopons? Me against him? Or you want my soldiers?"

"State them quick because im tiring fast, it was a long jorney."

The 2 men reload there weoponary and uncatch the boot knives. Teald himself unlatches his overcoat. There is a loud clunk as it hits the floor. It, like his cape, was obviously weighted. One of the men struggles to pick it up and moves it too the side. Upon takeing the coat off a tattoo is bore for everyone to see. It, like every other symbol in tealds nation, Was the same Spiked crossed lines. Teald moves his neck with a sickening crack.

"Are you sure you want your little girl incapacitated at my foot?"

The men take aim at "Sawneys" head with a heart stopping click off there saftys turning off...

"We could be powerful ally's, Dont make the wrong choice..." Tealds smile uncurls into a steel melting stare. "Dictators unite and all that crap. Is this the fabled Gentlemens club that i so graciously heard of? Or just a childs play ground"

OOC: Its hard to read the Jamacan/Carribian...>.<

OOC: I see you know nothing about sawneys. Heh. I can't wish you luck, cause I know it would be moot point. And even if it wasn't I want him to win anyway.

OOC: Ahem

"Are we supposed to be impressed?" The emperor of Potty 5 repeats the question softly to himself
"Well not realy, I expect most other members share equal exploits... as dictators"

"Now do you mind if I take a seat before this fight starts." The aged dictator and his two young atendedents walked further into the local and took seats. One of the young atendedents handed the Emperor his glasses which he put on and turned to look at strange talking man and 'laughing' man.

"Now now, If we are going to have fight can we have a wager as well?"

"Also did the funny talking man mean to also insult me?"

"How about this. You shut up. Your life is on the line next, you fat slob," The old man may not have the youth he used to, but he was still strong and well trained. "Your attempts at badgering up your "evilness" frighten no one. Your military is obviously a poor ripoff of mine, who perhaps not directly, are trained by my skills on the battlefield, and the skills of others who have improved my technique. Your filth will get you nowhere, and your ass is dead meat."

(Hey, I remember this! This might make me rez TIOR afterall. Hey GE, mind if I become in charge of this coalition against evil? I mean if you look up goody two shoes you'll see a picture of a rose on it. Come on... if anything Sergei could come and visit, he always did like the dictators.)

Maia stopped arguing with Kazatmiru in order to turn around and rubberneck at the fight that was about to happen. During this time, Kazatmiru managed to get one more "dyke" in.

Maia would get her revenge later. But first....

Her 4 meter long tail swept around her comfortable stuffed chair in a blindingly fast arc. It stopped when the meter long spike at the end lodged itself in the concrete wall with enough force to make half the building tremble. Pinned to the spike were the guns and severed arms of the two bodyguards, who collapsed into screaming heaps, ruining the carpet with their blood.

She stared at Teald, her eyes glowing with some hellish evil.

"Now now.... play fair...." she hissed, her forked tounge occasionally escaping from her lips, "A spectacle isn't a spectacle unless it's prolonged..."

Maia dislodged her tail from the wall, brushed her raven black hair out of her face and stared quietly forward. Without looking at Potty 5's Emperor, she threw a handful of diamonds stolen from some random nation's crown jewels at his feet.

Now, if the hybrid would win her bet? That was the question.

(Ooc: The jewels are fake. Why would Maia wager with real jewels when it's more profitable to sell them to get enough capital to start a stock market scam?)

(OOC: How good are the fakes? and is Nation of Fortune talking to me)
IC: "I take it you are not betting on him [Teald] wining"
to one of his young atendents "pick those [jewels] up".
to Maia "How much are those [jewels] worth"

((OOC:Of course I'm talking to you.))

((OOC: Alright, let’s get this started. TIOR (and don’t think I’m going to stop calling you TIOR) I’m putting you in charge of the coalition against the EDLAGC when the time comes. I’ll even be nice enough to give you your own thread when we set the evil scheme in motion. But that’s later. This is now.

Everyone else, assume your letters, communiqués, resumes of evil, etc. have all been approved and your boys have been granted access to the club.))

The tension was mounting. They were already at each other’s throats. It was going much better than he expected. He let loose a soft, yet decidedly polite and unobtrusive chuckle as he watched the screen. He slowly got to his feet and walked towards the small elevator.

In the lounge, the lights suddenly went off, and a blue glow illuminated the faces of all the assembled. The fire in the fireplace was swept out, as if a stiff breeze had extinguished it, and the room seemed to grow noticeably colder. Then, the entire fireplace began to lift off the floor, revealing a cavernous black hole. As the eyes of the assembled began to adjust, they could pick out a thin silhouette of a man-like figure standing in the shroud. The air was deadly still. The figure began to step forward, his shoe falling with a perfectly audible ‘clack’ as it touched the stone tile in front of the fireplace-turned-secret-trap-door. He took another step forward, then another, each time allowing the light to creep closer to his face. He was well dressed, clad in an expensive gray suit, his form tall, thin, but powerful in appearance. He paused just short of fully revealing himself, and in a voice as smooth as silk and cold as ice, he greeted them.

“Hello gentlemen. In this very room are assembled the most sinister minds ever to mar the surface of the Earth, truly horrors in every form. I trust there are no strangers here, and I assure you that I am a personal fan of all of your work. I am certain that our gathering will prove a productive and most entertaining affair, and that this very hour marks the second rise of evil. With no further ado, allow me to welcome you to…

The Evil Dictator’s Lounge and Gentleman’s Club!

[suitably malevolent opening title theme music]

The lights came up and the man was fully revealed. He did not appear old, and yet he was certainly not a young man. His hair was jet black, his eyes gray, his cheeks hollow. Emperor Kazatmiru smirked and got to his feet, walking to stand beside the man.

“Gentlemen, ladies, Maia. Allow me to introduce Mr. Gray. Assembled from the DNA of the most iniquitous individuals to ever exist within the borders of Bornerifreudia, he is my personal Minister of Evil, and the chairman of the Club. If you will follow him, our meeting may commence.”

The well dressed though decidedly sinister man turned sharply and stepped back through the fireplace, into an enormous conference room, the centerpiece being a long conference table. He took his seat at the right hand of the throne at the head of the table, where Kazatmiru took his own place.

With a thud and a bang, The Man who was a small backwater pyschotic hell whole (for it is Emperor Mad Poodle Eating Dave whom our hero is (OCC: HA! TAKE THAT BULWYER-LYTON)) stummbled in through the door, clutching an invite and muttering about tax laws. He looked up guiltily and sat down, followed by one of his nurses.

A man walked through the doors of the club. This man obviously hailed from a diffrent era. While his clothing portrayed him as some minor rich Gentlemen with honest intentions, his eyes, they behold a malevolence nothing could get rid of. A lust for violence, for agony and pain could be heard on his breath, silent as they were. Blood permanetly stained his sword, which sat in its scabberd. Long white hair flowed to his shoulders, yet he walked and looked, as a youth of twenty. His lips were curled in a sinister sneer. There was obviously much to this man that he wouldn't speak of, unless asked.

"I hope I'm not late, Gentleman. I was, delayed, temporarily." He said with a voice shure to make one wake with a shiver nights later.

One must note, that the doors never once swung open whilest he walked through it, it was as though the doors didn't exist for him or something.

Teald sighed at the spectacle, looking down at his 2 men he said...

"I have hundreds of others trained in exactly the same way...Shame really. These 2 were actually quite pleasent to have as company."

He stuck his finger in his ear and started talking.

"Squadren 53 come pick up 2 fallen soldiers, seriously wounded, If you can do anything for them... dont bother. Just send them home... Thankyou."

5 Minutes later 5 men in simalar uniform came through the doors with strechers, syringes and cloth in hand. 2 minutes later they were gone leaving a sterile smell in the air and a partially cleaned carpet.

"Sorry about the rug, though it isnt my fault *glances a look at the spiked tail* ...Hm.. I wont bother calling for more soldiers. I never even said i wanted a fight. What is its purpose? I thought we were here to discuss, not act like barbarians... My men always keep incheck my oppnents to make sure no fowl play occurs. It was highly unnessacary to injure them. But ill let this one waver.... they are mere concripts."

Teald sits down brushing off his cape. Now the gracious host has arrived, fighting is no a concern of his...

OOC: No i have no idea what a Sawney. I thought it might be his name, the whole wierd-ass Carribiean accent confused the hell out of me. Can someone elaborate?

OCC: Am I still part of the club?

Willi Grodren plodded into the room. He other members of the gentlemen's club looked at the slight, anemic man with a great disdain. They must not have heard about his deeds in the Muurite genocide. This small Darian man was the man behind the massive murder of three million Muurites, however, he did not view himself as evil like these men. These menwere evil for the sake of evil. The only reason Willi came here was to hide from the Vietnamexican forces hunting for him in his own land, he also knew that these were influencial men. Ones that could aid him in the end of his plan. The destruction of the Muurites and the creation of a Darian state. A state that he would rule, with a iron fist that would keep the dissenters in line, and help keep his small nation out of the grips of the Hornando dynasty.

OOC:

Sawneys.........

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=422353

OOC: Are my minions the only ones that are superpowered ><;;

Just to clarify:

Tealds Standard Grunt: Normal Training, Standard Issue Equipment, Millions, Very Expendable.

Tealds Soldiers: Normal Training, Higher Issue Equipment, Commlinks, Slightly less expendable, but expendable none the less. (These are the men that cleaned up the mess/took the bodies)

Tealds Special Opp's: High Training, Maximimum Issue, Comm Links, Sat Nav, Rations, Morphine Tablets Located on Neck, "Tealds X Formula" (Reaction Enchanceing Drug) Not Very Expendable (Teald Dislikes looseing them) (These are the men that accompanied him into the club)

Tealds Secret Force: File not Found ----
OOC:

Yaza stumbled up the steps and slammed into the front door. As he slowly slid to the ground, he became vaguely aware of his surroundings. His Master had sent him to this...Club...to represent the Grey Legions. He sorta got lost on the way.

All he could recall at this point was the dancing girl who had *small smile* and then *grin*.......then he winced as the throbbing over his eye started again.

He didn't remember much of the fight. He was pretty sure he gave as good as he got but waking up in the gutter outside this Club was a mystery to him.

He didn't feel very good.

He tried to stand up, and got so dizzy that he puked all over two women walking by. The stench was horrific, and he noted through the pain that there was blood in the vomit. There were other aromas coming from inside his pants...his boots gave off a slight 'squishing' sound.

He managed to stand erect, and pounded on the door. " Somebody better let me in this shithole and I mean right quick," he roared.

The door creaked open, and a voice said, " You 'aint comin' in here lookin' and smellin' like dat. Come back when you clean up."

Yaza's response was to pull his battle-knife and impale the voice, pinning it to a wall. As the knife had entered the neck just above the ribcage, the voice, now visible as a dwarf, could only gurgle, blood and pieces of cartilage spewing out of it's mouth.

Yaza gave the knife one more twist, pulled it out of the dwarf, and wiped it off on the corpse.

" Asshole," he muttered.

"Cyrus why don't I forget what you said. Your recent activity is far more... destructive then mine but I do not think you know who I am. And I don’t fear for my life as I think you would find it very hard to kill me and then I'll only just have to return from hell. 齊天大聖 was based on me, but I am not so nice as that monkey, even before he pissed on Buddha"
The emperor gets up, his visible body hair notable thicker and longer, and from the trail of his robe a glimpse of a tail can be seen. His eyes began to look as though they held ancient flames as hot as the sun rekindled. He walked slowly and purposely into the chamber room with his two attendants wrapped closely to around his sides.

OOC: How powerful is acceptable w/o being a godmod in this thread? I was assuming that it was more of a normal mortal powered thread but it seems that the Emperor's claims [that cause him to be considered insane by many] could be suitable (with all of the other non-humans) here or should I just avoid displaying force, or is all fair as long as no main PC gets killed.

Yaza pushed through the now open door, and followed a short hallway to a large lounge area. There were a surprising number of patrons present for this time of day, most apparently schnockered.

A huge fireplace had somehow disappeared, and all Yaza could see was a long table. Sitting at the table was a man...creature?...someone was calling 'Mr. Gray'.

Shit, he thought. Lookit these freaks. All I wanted to do was see the world, have exciting adventures. Join the Army: it's not just a job.....Bullshit.

He sat at the table for a full minute without any kind of acknowledgement from anybody. He pounded a huge fist on the table and bellowed, " Who do I have to kill to get a friggin' drink around here?"

He was feeling a bit dizzy again, and the nausea was rising........

Teald glanced a look at the new comer makeing demands.

"Im assumeing that putrid smell thats violateing my nose is you...."

He noted the mans face (OOC: Description please :P), and quickly got back to directing his attention at "Mr Grey."

Teald glanced a look at the new comer makeing demands.

"Im assumeing that putrid smell thats violateing my nose is you...."

He noted the mans face (OOC: Description please :P), and quickly got back to directing his attention at "Mr Grey."


Yaza turned a bloodshot eye towards the pipsqueak that was addressing him.

" You talkin' to me, asshole?"

Yaza was turning a curious shade of white. His tangled beard was encrusted with various bits and pieces of what was in his stomach mere minutes ago. A warrior all his life, his face was criss-crossed with old scars and a couple of recently received welts. A filthy rag wrapped around his head was soaked with old, dried blood. An earring denoting his rank dangled from his left ear, and his left hand was missing a couple of fingers. But his steel-grey eyes were alert, menacing, just looking for an excuse to pummel someone into oblivion.

"Ofcourse im talking to you. Does anyone else in this room smell like bottem of a bin?"

Teald sat up straight towering above most, his stern unyielding face unwavering from the ruffians statement. A shaven head and small black goatee giving of the appearence of a well kept man. Broad shouldered and muscley, obviously a trained Solider who made it through the ranks.

"You are in a club for Dictators and fine Gentlemen. Youd be right behave...and Act like one...filth"

Yaza pushed back his chair, stood up, revealing his full height of 6'11". He poked a finger at this rude example of a man, and said, " Buddy, if I were you, I'd sit my ass down before I rip your arm off and shove it up the new hole I'm gonna tear in your body. I'll say one thing for you....you got balls. Why don't we have a drink and talk about the good times we're gonna have? I think that'd be better than talkin' about the bad times your gonna have if you don't shut your mouth."

They glared at each other for what seemed an eternity, every eye in the room focussed on them , prepared for the worst............

"My I ask, If this is a Gentleman’s Club, where is the entertiament... other then the dismemberment or is this the more traditional type of Gentleman’s Club"

"It will take more than hollow threats to scare me. I find it hard to beleive someone who is a glutton, and hardly ever lifts a finger could be a challenging fight, let alone one I would lose, especially with my ace in the hole. This..... Whatever the hell it is you speak of doesn't frighten me, the grim reaper has passed me by many times, and if he could feel such an emotion he would be frozen in fear as I defeat him in combat."

A look of annoyance crossed his face and the cougar by his side stood up, getting ready to attack at a single word.

Tealds smile once again breaks the tension.

"I can never turn down a good drink. And i like your threats. I can tell if they are empty or not"

(OOC i never said i was standing, but re-reading my post it looks like i might ofbeen, so...ok :P )

Teald moved over towards the man.

"Whats your name boy? And whats with the earring? Its curious"

"The Great Sage Equaling Heaven, the monkey demon born of a magical rock, he appears is the classical fictional Chinese tale of Journey to the West, which is based on a real monk's journey to India. The story was originally passed down through oral tradition, which is where the Monkey King was added in; it later was written down and has become a favorite book for dictators and children all over East Asia. My nation’s Wu Kong military base is named after him."

"Now if you do not believe in my threats why do you get so bothered by me?" The Emperor smiled

"And do you expect me to be killed by a cat? Why in the time it would take for the kitty to reach me my two girls could have drawn and fired on that cat sufficiently to see that it does not suffer any more effects of aging."

"Or I could simply dodge the cat if it pounced and rip its cervical vertebrae out." Fat Monkey 13 said with a slight laugh

"Now why do you not stop with this matter before you do some thing of which you might have great regret."

Saul Hudson, sitting across the table from Kazatmiru, waited patiently as the intial ego-fest played itself out in front of him. It was inevitable in such situations that such people would clash. He had learned to expect it at EDLAGC events, although he had never seen cause to join in. Such pointless displays of bravado were beneath him. His real work would be the plotting and execution of whatever scheme this Mr. Gray had in mind. Gray was certainly an intriguing character. Like his own henchman Samuel "Boo"Radley, Mr. Gray seemed to Hudson like a very inscrutable, and potentially dangerous, person. He would enjoy seeing how the rest of this meeting played out.

ooc: Is it Yasa or Tasa?

"More dismemberment. Whee." Maia rolled her eyes and drummed her fingers on the table, small pieces of wood flying off where her claws hit. "So Kazatmiru, you told me that you liked young boys..."

While Maia was restarting her argument with the Generian Emperor, the Great Leader patted his gigantic pockets for more bricks of crack. Then he found that he was out. Yes. Out. He had smoked his entire three hundred kilogram stash of crack cocaine in his pockets.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" The big lizardman howled and leapt up from the table, hurling his 2300 kilogram mass through the nearest wall. Crashing could be heard in the background as pieces of the building began coming apart. Maia sighed and motioned for one of the black armored Imperial Guard Lizards to go and obtain more drugs, before the entire building came to pieces and crushed everyone inside.

"I suggest you look again, your two little servants may already be dead. I said I have an ace in the hole, I never said it was the cat. I was instructed before hand not to kill anyone important, now I suggest you sit down and shut up before the last bits of self restraint I have left break. I fear not the consequences of my actions, for I fear nothing, I have respect though, and this respect is what is keeping you alive."

Maximus Armistice, the corrupt dictator of the Dictatorship of Impowerment, walks into the room holding his pet tiger, Sabu, and smoking a cigar. The Impowerian people speak with somewhat of a Russian accent because that is who colonized the country. The Impowerment colonists soon revolted and won their Independance.

"My good friends, today mylself and my Alliance of Dictators have taken an entire continent and have enslaved all their people! We are one step closer to destroying democracy, FOREVER!!:mp5: :mp5: :mp5: :mp5: :mp5: :sniper: :sniper:

Tealds gaze immidiatly moved to the wall that was just broken...

"Curious. Im assuming he's a great addict... Drugs never tickled me much."

Teald stuck his finger in his ear once more

"Send up 2nd Commander Leitreizch... Id like some company"

A few minutes later a man walked through the doors in a black long coat with a peaked green hat toting the insignia so commenly known with Teald.

"You vanted me mein Commissar?"

"Ah, Lietreizch, I was wondering if you would accompany us."

"It voud be my honor..."

Lietreizch nodded and took of his hat revealing a simalary bald head with a small tatoo of the what would seem omnipresent logo of Teald.

The 2 Tealdians layed down an assult of foreign tounge at each other pausing for laughing and smiles.

Tealds smile once again breaks the tension.

"I can never turn down a good drink. And i like your threats. I can tell if they are empty or not"

(OOC i never said i was standing, but re-reading my post it looks like i might ofbeen, so...ok :P )

Teald moved over towards the man.

"Whats your name boy? And whats with the earring? Its curious"


Yaza let the "boy" go this time. He smiled hugely and put him arm around the Tealdian, pointing them both to the bar.

My name is Yaza'ilt'nita,of the Dominion of The Grey Legions. Yaza for short. I am a Centuriat of the 101st Dragon Legion. We are primarily responsible for the protection of the Duke. Not that he needs all that much protection. He can beat any three men, together, in combat. My earring is the symbol of my rank."

He ogled a skimply-cald waitress as she went by. " Yes...it's shaping up to be a marvelous night. And what might your name be, my friend?"

He shouted at the bartender, " Barkeep! Mix us up a couple of those blue drinks that you set fire to. And make it snappy!"

"My name is Teald, From the Empire of Teald. I am the leader of that self titled nation, one that i am very proud of. In the contry that never stops snowing..."

His eyes glaze over reminising.

"My army is rarely matched..." He glances at Potty 5 now whispering "His army is a joke"

The 2 Tealdians break into laughter.

"Ah, Ranking. I have a simalar System. Except mine works with Tattoos... "

He notions to the various tatoos on his body all of the same quadspiked cross.

"The one of the back is from my day a Grunt, The next on my fists are when you move up in rank. Followd by the painful tatooing of the genitailier..I wont pleasure you with that site. One positioned on the left shoulder signifies the last rank you can obtain in our army. The next you can hope to be blessed with is the one old Liet has"

Teald Smacks the tatoo on Liets forhead and chuckles... Liet smiles and nods.

"This shows Commandering position. He is a leader of the army. And the very last tatoo... "

Teald pulls down his collar.

"Is for Commissar's...And there is only one." Teald smiles again.

"Now! For the drinks!"

Maximus Armistice, the corrupt dictator of the Dictatorship of Impowerment, walks into the room holding his pet tiger, Sabu, and smoking a cigar. The Impowerian people speak with somewhat of a Russian accent because that is who colonized the country. The Impowerment colonists soon revolted and won their Independance.

"My good friends, today mylself and my Alliance of Dictators have taken an entire continent and have enslaved all their people! We are one step closer to destroying democracy, FOREVER!!:mp5: :mp5: :mp5: :mp5: :mp5: :sniper: :sniper:

((OOC: After considering this display, I can't let you involve yourself in this thread. Talk to me when you learn to RP properly. Don't use smilies either. They bug me.

Also, a few things to everyone else.

This thread is now closed. Anyone who made their first post after the appearance of Mr. Gray is not to be counted among the participants in the RP. Unless anyone does something I don't like and I have to kick them out, whoever's in now is in.

Somebody asked something about superpowers and godmoding and whatnot. I really don't care if your character has some crazy shit going on with him (magic, genetic engineering, robotic genitalia, etc.), but be aware that if you decide to interact with anyone else using such aforementioned crazy shit, they'll have to be cool with it. Otherwise you'll be godmoding which is not cool and not in the spirit of the thread.

Also, if you're making posts ordering food or drink and taking advantage of the gentleman's club aspect of the lounge, don't expect a response from me. There are numerous waiters, bartenders, exotic dancers, etc. in the establishment, but you should treat them as NPCs. Atmospheric touches, if you will.

That's all I can think of at the moment. I'll post IC when i feel like it. Oh yeah, speaking of. Don't hound me about making posts. I usually post pretty regularly, but there's nothing that annoys me more than people bumping something of mine for a reply. I'll get to it when I get to it. Patience is a virtue.))

Admiral Kukonois would chuckle grimly from a darkened corner, he didn't seem to sit, he seemed to simply be there, gently swirling a large cup of ominously bubbling black liquid, "So this is what this club is all about? people sniping at each other instead of planning how we are going to bring about the expansion of our influence in important areas, the dismantlement of deomcracy and the resserection of Regime's that are truly beneficial to our cause," The Admiral takes in the room at a glance, leering over the brim of the bubbling brew before taking a draft of the stuff.

Behind him leaning over the back of the chair like a pair of avenging furies stood a fanatical pair, one garbed in a dazzling ceremonial chest and shoulder piece, a great golden headress and mighty plumed crest, his robes gleam and dzaale and in his left hand he wields and waves a strange staff, he is a Lord Priest of the Diri E I G Ignen, to his right looming over like a storm cloud was the newly minted General Delevan, the successor to General Drejas destroyed in a valiant raid against Velkyan fools. His Uniform seemingly glowed in the room, blood red with the Admiral Kukonois logo on collar and right upper arm, gleaming and hanging from his belt a sinister sword, the scabbard vanishing into the dark folds of his volumous trousers, something else can be heard gently clinking but is obscured from view.

The Admiral seems to emenate darkness itself, his fair hair and lightly tanned skin contrasting starkly, he was very much alive and all the more sinister for it, he wore his uniform with pride and behind those mysterious eyes can be felt an immense presence, of almost supernatural proportion the sheer confidence of his speech and the tone of his voice, a man that had been in the field of battle for many a year, he was a commander of men and soldiers, this much was evident from his tone. "If we are to be truly successful in our endeavours we will need to work together instead of all of us falling dead on the others hidden dagger." Behind him his 2 followers would be immersed in conversation, in a strange cryptic language that informed individuals would recognise as Novan, or at least a dialect of Novan, of course no-one in the room could understand the toungue so the cryptic murmrings between 2 men would remain such, cryptic murmurings in the gathering darkness.

Near the entrance to the Lounge: *A twinkle of sparks burst into life out of thin air, and whirled. They spun in progressively faster, mesmerizing spirals, brightening to near-blinding brilliance. Then they broke free of the pattern, racing to adorn the cloak of a man who was not there a moment ago.*

The man turned to the guard, revealing a lean, wolfish character, clad in darkest leather. A pair of rings gleamed like frozen fire on his fingers, neatly wrapped in what appeared to be pure night, seeming to shift along his fingers every so often. His boots were chased with wire of finest silver, and his star-adorned cloak was of the deeping sea, seeming to crash around his feet as it swirled. His onyx eyes were flecked with dark azure glimmerings, offset by the thin chain of silvery gold at his neck. His waist was banded by a strip of satiny cloth, bound by a blackened clasp. From his belt hung a handful of unidentified black velvet pouches, and one eminently dangerous sword. The handle of a hook-pointed dagger rode on his other hip, and the faint sound of the Horsemen's hooves rode the air behind him. A wealth of raven-black hair bound back by a simple emerald ring topped the package, and a smirk played perceptibly across his lips.

As the sparks died down to a ruby gleam, the man strode confidently to the door. Before the guard could react, the man flipped a simple, leather bound note into his hand.

"Read it. That is, if you let any fresh blood into this affair."

The note unfolded itself in the guard's hand, and the contents read (in blood):

To whom it may concern.

The bearer of this note, one Alaistair by name, is wanted by the military
and paramilitary organizations of fifteen nations for, variously:

Five-hundred and thirty five counts of first-degree murder, eleven hundred
counts of grand larceny, including, but not limited to, the theft of scientific
information, the entire contents of the Peristiman treasury, the sole diary of
the Mad Monk, the entire satellite network of South Nairobia, and the
personal hound of His Excellency King Atipath of Tristrania. He is also wanted
with regard to the arsonious destruction of over twenty buildings, and is to be
considered armed and dangerous. If you are reading this, RUN.

-Sincerely, the remains of #535.


"Incidentally, it's wrong. Five-hundred and thirty six."

The man swept past the stunned guard, and into the lounge.

-snip-
Cyrus heard the door open and snapped his M-16 to his shoulder and aimed at the newcomer. He squeezed the trigger and with an expert aim released a three round burst into the skull of this new man. He walked over to his kill.

"Thats funny, we weren't expecting anyone else. I guess I just got a little bit twitchy," came the words from Cyrus's mouth, as he reached down and stuck his fingertips in the developing puddle of blood.

He brought them out quickly and ran his fingers down the chest of this new body.

"I'm sure his head will fetch a nice bounty."

((OOC: This thread is now closed. Anyone who made their first post after the appearance of Mr. Gray is not to be counted among the participants in the RP. Unless anyone does something I don't like and I have to kick them out, whoever's in now is in.))

General Delevan would bridge his fingers and smile thinly, "if not then his head will look nice mounted on the wall of my office," he continued along with the large priestly figure beside him to lurk in the shadows cast by the reclining admiral, there was something about these three something strange, their accent was strange and unknown and their uniforms and in the case of the priest their religon and very presence was something that until recently had been unknown to all but the most avid of conspiracy theorists, things were going to change quickly, and for the better, but of course for the betterment of whom?

"if not then his head will look nice mounted on the wall of my office,"
"Several issues with this. What is left of his head would not preserve very well. Secondly, whats the sport in taking someone elses kill?"

"Whoever said anything about the head needing to look well preserved!" The General turned slightly, sadistically teasing and grinningly wickedly, showing a full set of flashing white fang like teeth, the Admiral would riase a hand gently and the General would go back to lurking silently behind him, "Excuse my underlings, while acting as a public face they do not often engage the public often, and usually there is little possibility of them having a civilised conversation over the screams...." The Admiral would trail off at the end, letting others tkae his meaning, the General behind him had reluctnatnly silenced and was occuping himself with admiring the surroundings and talking to the priest, who would be chanting in the strange language again, the last words would be shouted, these could be well understood, "Maljuras, Maljuras" the Diri E I G Ignen Guardian God of Destiny and master of fate, he was being called to witness this sacrifice to his glory, the blood would go as payment for future victory, the future victory of all assembled...

:sniper: :mp5: :mp5: :sniper: :mp5: :sniper: :mp5: :mp5: :sniper: :mp5:

OOC:

The guards here are called Sawneys. Sawneys are big and powerful. They have loads of Toxin within them. Don't know what Toxin is? It's a distinctly Camel trait. Toxin is released into the bloodstream of a Camel when at a critical moment that they are in danger they need to be able to fight back. Toxin like the name implies is Toxic. So, what does the body do when poison or toxin is in the veins? It floods itself with adrenaline to try and wash it all out. At the same time the body treats Toxin like a disease and raises its temperature to try and wipe said disease out. Seeing as Toxin is extremely sensitive to heat, not being able to keep itself within full components with and degreeage higher than ninety-eight point six fahrenheit. Once broken down by heat the Toxin's components are all incredibly harmless. However one of the components (often called the Kicker in slang terms) combines with adrenaline to make a temporary super-adrenaline. That while safe for short periods cannot be maintained for long periods.

Sawneys:

Alexander "Sawney" Bean was born near Edinburgh sometime during the reign James VI of Scotland (James I of England). He was the son of a "hedger and ditcher". He initially followed in his father's footsteps, but soon found that hard work and an honest living weren't things that suited him particularly well. So, along with a woman of similar leanings, he fled to County Galloway, where he and his "wife" took up residence in a cave along the shore. In the years following, they had many children, who went on to produce even more grandchildren (all inbred).

Yes, Sawneys are incestuous to a degree. They no longer have direct incest but instead often reproduce with close cousins.

Living in a cave and having an aversion to honest work, Alexander and his family needed some way to support themselves. So they settled upon what, for them, seemed the perfect occupation: robbing passers-by. And while they were by no means conventionally intelligent, they did possess a level of ruthless cunning, demonstrated by their solutions to several problems. They of course didn't want to be caught, so they made certain that every one of their victims was in no position to tell the tale, in other words, dead. And to prevent any of them from getting away, the Beans set up their ambushes so that every possible means of escape was blocked. But it was the solution they devised for the last problem which was the most ruthless and gruesome

Sawneys are not cruel. They are just inherently merciless. That's what we tell foreigners so they won't be afraid.

With such a quickly growing family, Alexander needed some way to feed them all. Conveniently enough, their nightly activities provided them with a large source of food, namely human flesh. So not only did they rob and kill their victims, but they then dragged the remains back to the cave. They would then dismember the bodies, eating some of them, pickling the rest. In fact, because of their proficiency in their horrible work, there was often a surplus which they would throw into the sea. There are numerous accounts of people during that time making the macabre discovery of severed limbs and other body parts washed up on the shore.

And now we stumble across the true secret of the Sawney race. They are all cannibals. As is most of Camel Eaters. In fact we have massive meat markets where nothing but human flesh is auctioned. Also remember what I said earlier about Toxin? Sawneys produce six times as much Toxin as a regular Camel. Making them completely able to tear you a new one. And Sawneys can keep it going longer. Eight out of ten Sawneys have a cartilage based skeleton that renews itself constantly as long as appropriate nutrition is available. Yes, Sawneys can let the heat and Toxic components build up in the cartilage with the knowledge that it will replace itself shortly as long as they have enough food. That's you buddy.

Sawneys are providing the security.

They are not lightweights.

Do not treat them as such.

Thank you, This message brought to you by Haggis.

"My name is Teald, From the Empire of Teald. I am the leader of that self titled nation, one that i am very proud of. In the contry that never stops snowing..."

His eyes glaze over reminising.

"My army is rarely matched..." He glances at Potty 5 now whispering "His army is a joke"

The 2 Tealdians break into laughter.

"Ah, Ranking. I have a simalar System. Except mine works with Tattoos... "

He notions to the various tatoos on his body all of the same quadspiked cross.

"The one of the back is from my day a Grunt, The next on my fists are when you move up in rank. Followd by the painful tatooing of the genitailier..I wont pleasure you with that site. One positioned on the left shoulder signifies the last rank you can obtain in our army. The next you can hope to be blessed with is the one old Liet has"

Teald Smacks the tatoo on Liets forhead and chuckles... Liet smiles and nods.

"This shows Commandering position. He is a leader of the army. And the very last tatoo... "

Teald pulls down his collar.

"Is for Commissar's...And there is only one." Teald smiles again.

"Now! For the drinks!"



Yaza threw back the first drink, then the second. He was having a hell of a good time. A chance meeting with the leader of Teald, various dictators buying him drinks, and the damned best looking bar-maids in the region. They had the most curious colors in their eyes.........and the rest of them were pretty damned nice, too.

He was bouncing one on his knee when his zonebug emitted a low beep, indicating a message was incoming. " Alright, Yaz, time to get to work. If I know you, your'e either hip deep in whores or shit-faced....possibly both. Don't forget why I sent you there. With all of these new nations coming into being over the last few months, we can't be too careful that they're not puppets or fronts for other, more dangerous countries. Just keep your ears open, and let me know what you hear. And hey.....no picking fights with the members. Avan out."

Too late, m'lord Duke, Yaza thought. Ah well, I've had worse assignments....

The Generalissimo glanced at his watch. Damned Shooban, it's been almost an hour, he thought, disgustedly. He sighed.

As if on cue, the Shooban appeared. The beast was about 8 years old, deathly thin, malnourished, and on a starvation diet. Its eyes were huge and deeply sunken, its stomach was swollen, and every rib was clearly visible. It looked like a rubber-sheathed skeleton. "He...he...you iz...Mastah..." it said, dragging in a massive wooden crate weighing over 500 pounds.

The beast collapsed in a heap onto the floor, wheezing. The Generalissimo listlessly kicked it aside, cleaved open the side of the crate with his sword, and said, "Refreshments here, everyone!"

Inside the eviscerated crate were hundreds of cans and bottles of beer, wine, vodka, whiskey, brandy, rum, and just about every other alcoholic beverage imaginable. Hundreds of brands, from the world famous to the most obscure, were available.

"Drink up, enjoy!"

Yaza went into a crouch and pulled both his sword and Glock at the crack of an automatic weapon. He saw a guy go down, his brains now part of the wall. He relaxed and put away his weapons as the shooter crossed the room with the M-16 on his shoulder.

" Hey, you, Cyrus," he shouted. "Don't you know any better than to shoot a rifle in a room full of drunken people? Dammit, you could've missed and broken a bottle of booze!"

Saul Hudson stood suddenly as the Generalissimo slashed open an enormous crate of alcohol on the floor. He walked around the head of the table, and picked up a bottle of his very favorite Black Death vodka. Removing the cap, he raised the bottle over his head, and shouted to the entire room, "Gentlemen, here's to our own evil selves, may we always plot, steal, murder and scheme without regard to life and limb, and may we always have many happy returns to the grand old Evil Dictators Lounge and Gentleman's Club!" With that, he drained the flask.

J.L. raised a bottle of wine. "A toast: to us!"

Saul Hudson stood suddenly as the Generalissimo slashed open an enormous crate of alcohol on the floor. He walked around the head of the table, and picked up a bottle of his very favorite Black Death vodka. Removing the cap, he raised the bottle over his head, and shouted to the entire room, "Gentlemen, here's to our own evil selves, may we always plot, steal, murder and scheme without regard to life and limb, and may we always have many happy returns to the grand old Evil Dictators Lounge and Gentleman's Club!"


Yaza was on his feet, " I'll drink to that, and might I add a toast to all the fine ladies here tonight! May you all wake up tomorrow morning wondering if you had as good a time as the guy lying on top of you!"

Yaza was on his feet, " I'll drink to that, and might I add a toast to all the fine ladies here tonight! May you all wake up tomorrow morning wondering if you had as good a time as the guy lying on top of you!"

Hudson picked up another bottle, and yelled, "Hear, hear! To glorious and wanton fornication!"

OOC: Hee hee hee...let the toasts fly thick and fast

Just then, music blared out of the huge 30-inch speakers recessed in the ceiling. The horns were in the center of the room, and apparently the decibels were turned up to MAX.

Strobe lights lit the room with spastic brilliance, and the fog machines added a ghostly ambiance. Evidently, this Mr. Gray was an afficionado of ancient music.

The opening licks of Led Zepplin's "Heartbreaker" thundered, pounding on Yaza's eardrums. All the waitresses were tearing off their clothes and throwing them around the room. Somebody was screaming, but what the hell......couldv'e been a flashback............

" Hey, you, Cyrus," he shouted. "Don't you know any better than to shoot a rifle in a room full of drunken people? Dammit, you could've missed and broken a bottle of booze!"
"Only one false logic with that. I never miss. Fifty five years of training with a weapon have a tendancy to make you better with it."

He pulled the discharge lever back and caught the round as it discharged out of the weapon. He then pressed the magazine release button and let it fall. He kicked it straight up and he caught it with the same hand he had caught the bullet with, popped the bullet back in and stuck the mag back in the weapon.

"Years of training make me know everything about my brother, this brother not of flesh but of steel."

Whoops. Missed that bit. Ah well. That's not his only body, after all. Let me know if things open up again.

-Nairatsa

Yaza took in the cool, competant attitude of Cyrus the NOF. Nation of Fortune....he seemed to remember Magdha being allied to NOF, or....no, theyr'e in the same region. CAD, as he recalled the region's name. He knew of a couple of heavy hitters from that region. Doomingsland, the Borman Empire. Borman was allied to Xeraph as was Magdha.

Yaza wondered just what in the hell a bunch of CAD nations were doing in a shithole like this........

((OOC: Ahhh there was a club like this and I didn't know about it? ^_~ *Tags* Damn lack of popping in at the right time. Aww and someone was already shot, some mutant 8 year old was kicked to the side, and everyone is drunk. *shakes head*))

(OOC Nation of Fortune could you please refriam from stating the effects of your attacks on my girls; Also how could you have her shot in the heart with out knowing if she has Situs inversus, or even if she is human. As far as I know generally on nationstates, it is not considered in good taste to say what happens to other players stuff. Also any shot at one of the girls would also be at the Emperor as they tightly held against him.

One of the girls does have situs inversus, the girls are mirror images of each other. As for are they human? They are humans who have eaten some special peaches…

Let me ask you some questions about your actions. Did you target the girl on the emperor's left or right side? The girl on the left has situs inversus, the right does not. Due to the position the shot would most likely have to come through the arm, out of the arm into the chest continue from one side to the other and then it would reach the heart.

Also what type of silent bullet was used? It must have been subsonic for its entire flight path and have been fired from a manually operated weapon. This limits the effectiveness of such rounds, as bone, silk, and what ever is under the silk get in the way. The Russians make some 9mm subsonic rifle ammo that has good penetration and a round like this would suit the situation well but this round is not silent as it is propelled by a normal explosive propellant charge, and the gun is fitted with a massive suppressor. So the gun does make noise but very little and does not sound like a gun. Instead there are some 'piston' like rounds for purpose built guns. These are silent but are designed for close range [touching the target]. Also these guns don’t have very good penetration (in relation).

But what about an active defense from the Emperor. I warned you that he is very powerful. In this thread I brought up that he is very powerful and showed that he was not human

Did the glasses make you think he would be unable to notice? Those are for effect. He does not need them.

So I give you three options in the outcome of the attack:
1: The Emperor sees the bullet with his fiery glowing eyes and throws the girls down and then allows the bullet to hit him harmlessly
2: The Emperor catches the bullet in his hand between two fingers and flings it at Cyrus.
3: You never fired the bullet.)


OOC: Mr. Potty, I do give you credit for having such a well thought-out character/characters, as well as the technical knowledge about various weapons.

But, dude....get a life. This is a frigging game. Instead of micro-obsessing about inconsequential minutiae, why don't you show off your obviously huge talent for writing and go with what was written, and adapt.... chill out and keep it flowing.

ooc: Calm the fuck down, all of you. If you can't do that, at least move it out of the thread. I do not need to read page after page of your bullshit.

"Ah a drink" the emperor said with a grin as one of his girls reached into his robe and pulled out a small ceramic cup and placed it in front of the Fat Monkey 13.

"[Saul] Hudson would happen to have any more of that Potato Wine so I could try a cup, from what I can see and smell it is of very good quality and potency". The emperor rubbed his hands together, interlocked his fingers and bent until the backs of his normally hairless hands touched. “If not, I’ll call on one of the club’s waiters to get me the best Potato Wine they have.” He then unbent and unlocked his hands resting them near the cup.

“Cyrus, you show some skill with your weapons [means it as a compliment]. Why not partake in some drinking, we should all be friends here, there are enough enemies of dictators, without any squabbling amongst ourselves” an inhumanly wide grin stretched across his face as one of the girls poured some Potato Wine that the waiter had brought over into his cup.

The emperor said cheerfully “Hudson is this your vodka or the club’s” before the other girl had lifted the cub and poured it into the emperors mouth.

Cyrus nodded and downed the offer from the Potty fivian.(?)

"Yes, we shall do that. I say bring the worst bottle of scotch you got!"

He raised his rifle into the air, and almost forgot that he was indoors and shouldn't fire. He wrapped the sling around his body and adjusted it so that the rifle was tight against him. The cougar sat under the table, ignoring the festivities.

A slim waitress came and offered him the bottle of his desired five dollar scotch, the kind that tastes like total shit. He grabed the bottle and thanked her.

"To future business," He shouted, taking the cap off the bottle with haste, and downing some of it.

Yaza wandered over to the long table where Mr. Gray was patiently waiting for all the members to be seated. Some of the others were drifting in, also.

" What do you say we get this meeting started gentlemen?"

Four or five of the Imperial Guards staggered back into the club. Since Lizardmen could easily carry many times their weight and still move swiftly, they had to be carrying something heavy.

And they were. Each of them had an inhumanly huge crate on their backs. Contained in each fifteen metric ton crate, were an inhuman amount of drugs. There were drugs of all kinds and sorts, from cocaine, to heroin, to marijuana, peyote, mescaline, LSD, ecstasy, PCP, hashish, and other well known intoxicants, to utterly obscure ones, such as khat, Liberty, elephant tranquilizer (not PCP, but actual elephant tranquilizer), hallucenogenic Pwnage jungle mushrooms and others.

The Great Leader, smelling the drugs, ran back into the room as fast as his legs could carry him. He literally dove into the drugs, snorting, shooting and eating with wanton abandon whatever he could get his hands on. Maia sighed and grabbed a bottle of high octane gasoline from J.L's alcohol crate.... This was going to be one crazy night.

[ooc: Are there going to be any more openings for new members? I know this thread is now closed, but just wondering if there will be others in the future. I missed this unfortunately, because of exams, but I'd like to join if there's ever another opening.]

[in responce to The Grey Legions]
"Yes, lets [get started]" The Potty 5ien said as the girl on his left refilled is cup, and the girl on his right began to lift to cup.

The emperor then took the drink down with sip, thinking that if every one does not slit each others throats, Things may end up being a lot more like old times, when a dictator was considered the only type of ruler a country should consider, and political freedoms were of little to no importance..

The girl to his left showed signs of being startled as she almost spilt some rice wine from the bottle she picked to refill the emperor cup. The Emperor's shimmering silky black tail extended from under his robe and came around her back before sliding along her lap and came to rest in a neat coil. Relived that it was only the Emperors tail, and not the hand, tail or any other limb of a member of the club she took a sigh of relief and began to pet the tail like James Bonds arch nemesis Specter (or Austin Powers Arch nemesis Dr. Evil) would pet his cat.

The girl to his right took up the task of refilling the cup, but her dark brown, nearly black eyes exposed the jealousy her body so skillfully hid; the Emperor did not notice as the spectacle of the lizard man drug runners’ strength had caught his eyes for the moment.

OOC: Just trying to develop the girls’ and the Emperor’s characters a little more. And don’t target the girls they are two of the emperor’s concubines a.k.a. WIVES. they are not mooks or henchmen.
Also OOC the exposure of the Monkey aspect of the king is to show his true nature more, and because in most RPs I do are realistic so there a transforming Monkey Demon Emperor would not fit but with the toxic inbred Scots and the reptilian people I though I could not let this opportunity to RP the Emperor as his most evil self.

OOC Edit: Why is my army a joke? My airforce is. Most of my navy is (not the subs). But the army at least Infantry and Light Armor are top of the line.

OOC: Confound it Generic

Yaza wandered over to the long table where Mr. Gray was patiently waiting for all the members to be seated. Some of the others were drifting in, also.

" What do you say we get this meeting started gentlemen?"

"I heartily agree. Let's get this show on the road. I understand that you all enjoy your feasting and drinking, but let's not forget why we are here."

[to Freudotopia]
"if you dont mind..." the Emperor butted in with a monotonous voice

[to all still in monotone]
"We can still drink while seated at the table, I am seated, yet am able to drink."
He then continues to have a drink and chukels to himslef as he he rest his right hand on the thigh of his girl on his right.

"If this meeting is not going to get started soon is there a private room I could rest in?" he glances at his two girls long black hair and dark brown eyes.

Mr. Gray watched the carousing with uninterest. He glanced at the face of the gold watch on his wrist, and then spoke. Immediately the room fell silent.

"As my colleagues have so wisely suggested, I believe we should begin before some of us become too inebriated to be productive. As you are well aware, the EDLAGC has been underground for a fair deal of time. The world no longer trembles upon mention our name. This must be remedied. As Freudotopia is the principal exporter of fear, so must we become the principal exporters of evil. Therefore, we must execute an act so diabolical, so cunning, so utterly evil that every man, woman, and child the world over will lose control of their bowels upon learning of it. Gentlemen, I open the floor to your suggestions."

((OOC: Banduria, you seem like a cool guy, so I'll let you join now. But I'm not making any more exceptions.))

"As my colleagues have so wisely suggested, I believe we should begin before some of us become too inebriated to be productive. As you are well aware, the EDLAGC has been underground for a fair deal of time. The world no longer trembles upon mention our name. This must be remedied. As Freudotopia is the principal exporter of fear, so must we become the principal exporters of evil. Therefore, we must execute an act so diabolical, so cunning, so utterly evil that every man, woman, and child the world over will lose control of their bowels upon learning of it. Gentlemen, I open the floor to your suggestions."

"Well, we could always club baby seals," J.L. suggested. "Lefties tend to go apeshit when they see animals get hurt."

Mr. Gray watched the carousing with uninterest. He glanced at the face of the gold watch on his wrist, and then spoke. Immediately the room fell silent.

"As my colleagues have so wisely suggested, I believe we should begin before some of us become too inebriated to be productive. As you are well aware, the EDLAGC has been underground for a fair deal of time. The world no longer trembles upon mention our name. This must be remedied. As Freudotopia is the principal exporter of fear, so must we become the principal exporters of evil. Therefore, we must execute an act so diabolical, so cunning, so utterly evil that every man, woman, and child the world over will lose control of their bowels upon learning of it. Gentlemen, I open the floor to your suggestions."

Hudson interrupted, "If the world no longer trembles at our name, perhaps we should create a more fitting acronym. The Evil Dictator's Lounge and Gentleman's Club will remain, but we must have a more chilling name to present to our adversaries!"

So saying, he clicked his remote, and the screen at the head of the table lit up with the chilling picture that Hudson had once printed on leaflets and dropped over Morgova, immediately before deploying nuclear weapon on said nation:

http://usera.imagecave.com/mobrule132001/Slashsetthebomb.bmp.jpg

"Gentlemen, as you know, I have been organizing and streamlining the Freudotopian export of Fear to the best of my ability since I took power. I know the importance of Fear. We must also use Fear as an effective means to weaken and destroy our enemies."

"Evil generally is what religious people label thing they don’t like. Such as gambling, prostitution, and drinking; At least those were in the old days. Now we have drugs, and explicit media content. Why not try to corrupt the word youth to be gamblers and sex addicts yet maintain control over casinos, brothels, and pornography in our own and other countries?" the emperor retracted his tail, and puts his hands in his sleeves.

"I say corrupt the world with filth" he said gleefully
“And I don’t even think that that is a crime, internationally at least.”

The Emperor thought to himself, how could this be done, and at first came the idea of hijacking steatites to send out his message but then it hit him

“Why don’t we start our own television channels on satellite TV, and sufficient knowledge, could then see our content regardless of his nations stand on such things. We could set up web sites that tell how to properly align the satellite dish, or even put it in many other forms as I think the instructions would not be considered indecent, …”

the Emperor paused “Or is this just the lecher in me speaking?” as he wondered if he had gone on the right track with his filth idea.

OOC Edit: Why is my army a joke? My airforce is. Most of my navy is (not the subs). But the army at least Infantry and Light Armor are top of the line.


OOC: He' doesnt really know, he's just makeing himself look good, though his infantary are a force to be reackoned with, through its sheer size and its rifle prowess. Also his Tank division is little questioned in power.

Teald noticed the drugs come in, as did Liet...

Liet stood up and moved towards the psychotic lizardman takeing the drugs as if he were breatheing them, he quickly examined them with his bionic eye and smiled returning to Teald and whispering.

They both laughed and ordered up some vodka takeing a few shots and conversing. After a few minutes of this Liet stood unsheatheing his sword and slicing a small cut on the top of his hand...anyone catching a glimpse of this will notice that it has been done many a time. He squeezed some blood into a shot glass, poured one shot glass of vodka onto the wound then downed the blood... The curious activity was repeated by Teald himself. Both of there hands were shakeing, yet they were laughing again...

Liet punched Teald square in the face.

"DAMN...." Liet slammed his fist against the bar.

Teald started snickering again and said in a cheerful voice.

"You lost again."

Liet looked displeased and went back to drinking with Teald patting him on the back...

"Potty? I see you like the women eh?"

"Perhaps, if I may be so bold, we launch a war of extermination against a suitably visible symbol of good and all that is right with the world, this will derve two fold, to re-establish outselves as evil to the world, and also to remove what may be our largest stumbling bloc in the future," Behind the Admiral the sinister pair would nod at his words, the Priest would begin loudly chanting and waving his staff round and causally throwing a large live raven into the fire, while the General would begin looking at small maps and laughing.

"The other Ideas suggested can also go on in the background, simply put we need to be everywhere and make our presence known everywhere, no nation must be left untouched by our schemes, we must throw the entire world and beyond under our shroud of pure unadultured evil." The Admiral would trail off laughing softly, the darkness that had enveloped him like a cloak of night had vanished. In it's place visible for all to see was Admiral Kukonois in all his splendid glory as he took in another draught of his drink smiling broadly, something was not right here, and that was counting the psychotic liz\rd men girating on a pile of narcotics.

Cyrus stood up.

"No, we need something everyone will notice. If we pollute the world with evil some will be blind to it, if we destroy something symbol, some people won't care. We need something large, something that will be talked about for generations. Something nobody will forget. Perhaps we block the earth of the sun?"

"What is a symbol of good? The Christians think there religion is the most good as in opposite of evil, the Muslims think that their religion is the opposite of evil, same goes for every other major established religion that has a concept of evil. If we attack one of these the others will see us as being better, if we attack both the world is at war with us... Any target we attack is it reality hardly better then us. I see the spreading of drinking and fornication as steps against so called 'good' and lets throw in some free condoms to upset Pope."

The Emperor ended his formally serious speech with a slight chuckle, then became serious once more and started over.

"Destroying good does not equal creating evil. We must create evil. Lets create a Evil Dictator's brand condom, Evil Dictator's brand adult movies, Evil Dictator's brand cigars, Evil Dictator's brand Vodka, Evil Dictator's brand Sake, Evil Dictator's brand Brothels, Evil Dictator's brand Casino, Evil Dictator's brand Abortion Clinic, Evil Dictator's brand Gentlemen’s Cub, Evil Dictator's brand Snack Foods, Evil Dictator's brand S&M Cults, Evil Dictator’s Brand Banks..."

The emperor had started to loose his seriousness as he thought how could anyone see sex, drinking, drugs, gambling, and their ilk as evil. After a slight pause he started again, in total seriousness.

"Let us not destroy the planet or environment, though, as we must remember we should leave things nice for us.”

OOC: Started this before your block out the sun but here's Fat's views on that:
IC "Block out the sun? That would be very diffacult and expensive. It would yield no proffit, unless we cut holes in it so word shown threw like advortismement... still no profit... leave it there to short and it is just a curiosity... too long and we all loose our nations to stavation... It is an OK show of power though, but I think the world knows we can destroy it at will."

Yaza felt curiously conflicting emotions at the scene in front of him. Here were a number of fairly powerful world leaders, all of them drunk and/or stoned to a greater or lesser extent.

He was excited because he was getting involved in the planning of something truly heinous, so horribly evil that even the most warped psycho-schizo would think twice about implementing it.

He was also horrified that he was getting involved with this plan. Shit almighty, he thought. These a-holes are truly serious about this. Well, fuck it. If we're gonna do it,let's do it right.

" Friends and colleagues, may I put my two-cents in please? You have all stated a common desire to make this a truly monumental horror that the world will not soon forget. You have all mentioned various things, things which ARE horrible, but which have been done by various people at various times. What I am proposing is evil, in every sense of the word, in every way possible. An act of evil so truly horrifying, so cold and calculated, so un-nerving, so blood-curdling that it cuts into the corporate psyche of the human (and non-human) race, so that it will be ingrained in the DNA of humanity for generations to come."

Yaza stood and walked over to the middle of the room.

" Picture if you will, the result of merging the world of Man with the world of Hell. I'm not just talking about the run-of-the-mill hellish mayhem we read about every day. No, I'm talking about mating the deepest, darkest, hidden, murderous desires in the hearts of men with the even deeper and darker abilities of the demons of Hell! Mating....literally. Just imagine the blood and pus-filled streets of your towns, puke flowing like water, rotting flesh not yet dead, screaming their throats raw with the pain of nerves exposed to poisonous fumes....sulphur, methane, liquid nitric acid erupting to turn into a silent gas that burns each layer of skin so slowly as to drive men insane with pain.

Mothers eating their children, men slaughtering each other with the twisted, bloody limbs of their former neighbors. And you ask, 'how can this become real'? Heh heh, well, I'm glad you asked."

Yaza paused for a few seconds.

" In the Dominion of the Grey Legions, we have a good deal of knowledge about the more arcane and ancient ways of subduing nations. This is primarily through the calling up of the forces of the Underworld. These are not merely the 'Hollywood' version of what is considered evil. No this is the real deal. Gentlemen, we can unleash the Apocalypse, the End of all Things, Armageddon. And the beautiful part is that we can put a timer on it. We can let loose 99% of the lowest regions of Hell, and recall it at the last second, just before everything is destroyed. We can remake the entire planet in our own image......and cause that which is already there the most excruciating pain as they die the most excruciating deaths! What say you?"

The Emperor's face lit up "Ha ha. It would be like real old times. Summon demons from hell, cause the armagaddon, rise volcanos it the center of cities, bring down the sky apon the earth... I am not known as the the Former Great Archmage for no small feats. From the depths of Hell, from the mind of Lovecraft, from the graves of the once living, I once held great power like that... but I fear that in this world... things would not work so well, magic and the supernatural have seemed to fade... unless you know how to reopen the doors that seem to have blinded the world to magic I dont see this happening. But I would love to see the look on W.E.C. Renret's face when this would happen"
the Emperor took a deep breath and turned to Yaza
"But I think it would be in good intrest to cause minimal damage to our own nations."

OOC: "...supposedly had great magical powers and could raise volcanoes, summon demon armies, and control dragons, as well as brain eating monsters like those of HP Lovecraft..." -The Sciology of Potty 5
I dont think magic and supernatural is the way to go as most people dont regularly RP magic (at least i think).

OOC: Taking advantage of the fact that I posted before the cutoff (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=10095925&postcount=32)… ;)

Off to one corner sat a camera. Few noticed it, except to glance at the placard beneath it, nod approvingly, or even smile, wave, or hoist a glass, bong, crack pipe, coke spoon, or whatever they might have in hand toward the device, in honour of the man who was viewing the proceedings through the silent lens.

Why did they do this? Because the placard beneath the camera read:

Jack Kaufman
Former President of the Republic of Torontia

In Absentia

Which, of course, was perfectly true. Kaufman was watching – and swearing profusely because he couldn’t be there:”G_d d_mn_d f_ck_ing Communist f_gg_ts! They can’t do this to me! I’m f_ck_ng Jack Kaufman!!! I belong there! If I were there, I’d show every last on of those G_d d_mn_d r_t f_cks what it means to be f_ck_ng evil!!! H_ll, I f_ck_ng G_d d_mn_d well invented evil!!! Miserable s_n_f_b_tch_ng m_th_rf_ck_ng pinko f_gg_t _ass Red b_st_rd m_nk_y-d_ck_d... <remainder of expletive stream censored>But what was equally true was that half a dozen officers from MI-7, the Military Intelligence arm of the United States of Allemande, were also watching the proceedings. Watching ... and shaking their heads.

“You know,” said a Navy officer – holding the rank of Captain, “We could probably eliminate the whole pack of them with a couple of yards of steel chain and a Master lock.”

“How do you figure?” asked an Army officer – specifically, a colonel – sitting next to him.

“Run the chains around the door and padlock ‘em in with each other,” chucked the Navy man. “Then let time run its course.”

A Marine colonel, sitting behind the two of them, guffawed. “You know, that’s the problem all these evil tinhorn dictators have: no matter how powerful they get, all they can seem to do is argue with each other.”

To which a colonel in the Army Air Corps sarcastically quipped, “And this is different from our own politicians precisely how?”

With that, the room erupted in laughter.

OOC: Of course, our observation of the whole affair is (still) SIC...

BTW, I’ll play fair and let you get your plot rolling (once y’all agree to one - if ever) without moving to stop you. I just thought I’d add some humour along the way...

" There is but one problem with your theory sir. What if the demons attack us??. WE cannot control them. Demons cannot be controlled by magic spells forever. In the end it is the demon that controls the human. Not the other way around. We must unleash something that will kill millions and strike fear in the billions. Something that won't kill us as well!" said Michael with his eyes still closed.

He had watched some of these fools fight with each other but he was surpised on how good some of there ideas where. Very surpised he haden't thought of it himself.



OOC: Hey guys I need some input.

Should this how Michael should look?

http://pageperso.aol.fr/bosscool88/images/saddler.jpg


or this?

http://www.france-fps.com/images/doom3/betruger.gif

"Well I have never had any trouble with a demon I summoned attacking me. They would require housing, humans for food, and gold just like any oth...”

He stopped himself from going off on a tangent about the human flesh market in Potty 5, flesh for eating as apposed to slavery and or sex though at times the markets blur.

"Often the demons would return to which they came. But for a considerable amount of time they would fight and kill all I wished them to, even other demons. But it depends on the demon. I'll let you in on a secret I am literally a demon, and there are a great verity of demons.”

The emperor was beginning to think that this idea would not work to well, and his personal experiences with other demons were not necessary. He continued:

“But this seems a rather far out way to show that we are evil. Why not just fight for abortions and safe sex, with drinks on the side. That should render us evil in many people’s books.”

The Emperor paused to contain his laughter at the thought of such things being so evil to so many people. But continued on with an idea based on his nations TV shows

"Why not just have reality TV shows; in Potty 5 we have 'Official Executions Live', 'Boarder Crossing: Sharpshooters’ Paradise', a variety of show featuring duels of many kinds, spin-offs of Boarder Crossing , following many of these shows you can order the flesh of those who died. I am shore the international community would consider this evil or at least in bad taste… no pun intended”

The Priest at the mention of hell and demons and all this supposed evil would lauch, a cold and hollow laugh clearly mocking, gently turning to the admiral "If it pleases you?" with a mere nod the Priest hurries to the center of the room,

"Friends what you claim to be hell is not ture evil, no that honour rests with Valgen, from there we can summon true evil, creatures that their very presence induces canabalism, and these are controllable, the only problem we would have with summoning these is to open the Gates to Valgen we would need much blood, the blood of innocents, but once the gateway is opened Valgen shall be able to pour out," Raising his staff grandly he would appear to be possessed of a halo of blood, a powerful red glow surrounding him ominously.

"We need only please Daophuse, Lord of Valgen and he shall join us in our endeavours, with Daophuse on our side so is the entirety of Valgen, what is more if someone were to venture into Valgen and claim a Torrken Crystal, it could lead to a great plague of madness for us to bestow upon our enemies," Pausing to pick something up and continues on while rummaging round in a satchel for soome unknown artifact,

"The Creatures of Valgen if they arise shall be ours to command and a vast army of them, they are beyond demons they are beyond evil, they are the denizens of Valgen, the most fearsome of them all is the Grendal a great behemoth of destruction so great that even the gods fear him."

The Priest would slam his staff to the ground and throw several small crystals in a circle on the ground in front of him, the crystals would pull the blood off the earlier decapitated body to them and they would rise up, spinning and whirling great terrible screams would emit forth as the blood became one with the crystals with a terrible splatter and slurping, spinning faster and faster weaving a picture, of a dread god soaked in blood bathing in gore while commanding a monstrous army rampaging around a landscape beyond the awfulness alike that of hell.

Raising his hands high shouting and chanting a strange and hateful language he would at last revert back to english, "Great lord Daophuse how may we sate you so that you will aid us in our task, your evil surpassess all present here and we humbly bow before you as mere novices, tell us your answer supreme one,"

" There is but one problem with your theory sir. What if the demons attack us??. WE cannot control them. Demons cannot be controlled by magic spells forever. In the end it is the demon that controls the human. Not the other way around. We must unleash something that will kill millions and strike fear in the billions. Something that won't kill us as well!" said Michael with his eyes still closed.

He had watched some of these fools fight with each other but he was surpised on how good some of there ideas where. Very surpised he haden't thought of it himself.



OOC: Hey guys I need some input.

Should this how Michael should look?

http://pageperso.aol.fr/bosscool88/images/saddler.jpg


or this?

http://www.france-fps.com/images/doom3/betruger.gif



ooc: first one

Well shit almighty, these shit-fucks want to perform the ultimate evil, but they're afraid of it. You can't pull a trigger and then be afraid of the results....

" OK, listen up. Even if the Underworld succeeded in destroying most of the planet, including our own nations, don't you see that what was left could be divided up amongsy ourselves? All of us will have a thousand times more than we do now! Novacomm, great idea. Dagophuse will work." Yaza paused for a snort. "We can begin the whole thing all over again. And, if we do it right, there'll be no disease, war, or women's rights! Think of it....Terra as our playground!"

The dictatorship of maroi would like to join:sniper: :mp5: :gundge:

"As evil dictators should we not be the one in power at all times not some far off god, not to speak ill of the god as I know what it is like when gods have cursed you and your nation... I just don’t like gods they always think they are so superior"

The emperor stopped that train of thought, as his war against gods millennia ago and his war with the gods millennia before and launched his new idea.

"Why don’t we use a low yield say 10kt nuclear bomb to vaporize a school or Vatican City, or Mecca or something?"

The dictatorship of maroi would like to join:sniper: :mp5: :gundge:

OOC: You obviously didn't (or couldn't) read the part where GE specifically said no more people can participate who didn't post before he closed the thread. Add that to the fact that this is your first post, i.e. you are an inexperienced RPer, you used three absolutely useless stickies, and the post itself was one sentence, and I must do GE a favor and tell you to leave.

"As evil dictators should we not be the one in power at all times not some far off god, not to speak ill of the god as I know what it is like when gods have cursed you and your nation... I just don’t like gods they always think they are so superior"

The emperor stopped that train of thought, as his war against gods millennia ago and his war with the gods millennia before and launched his new idea.

"Why don’t we use a low yield say 10kt nuclear bomb to vaporize a school or Vatican City, or Mecca or something?"

Hmmm...so I guess some of us are leaning towards being nominally evil, sort of "weekend warrior" evil. Let's just soap up the windows and run, like a bunch of grammar-school kids on Mischief Night. Pussies.............

"I just do not wish to bow down to any god. I'll summon demons, and all sorts of malignant beings from all over time and space but I, we will be in command, not some god. How can you call yourself an evil dictator when our plan is to try to please a god? I am not going to be going around trying to please any god no matter what the ends are. We are the ‘Evil Dictators’ not ‘servants of some evil god’."

"I just do not wish to bow down to any god. I'll summon demons, and all sorts of malignant beings from all over time and space but I, we will be in command, not some god. How can you call yourself an evil dictator when our plan is to try to please a god? I am not going to be going around trying to please any god no matter what the ends are. We are the ‘Evil Dictators’ not ‘servants of some evil god’."

Who the hell said anything about pleasing a god? I said that we can unleash the hordes of hell and Novacomm mentioned one by name. When the demons are through wreaking havoc, we'll send 'em back whence they came, clean up the mess, and rule happily ever after.

" You are a fool. You think the demons are just gonna walk away after killing billions of people? No. If we try to send them back they will rebel. We will anger a much higher power and have to fight another war. We best steer away from demonic teachings. We want to rule the world. Not destory ourselves while doing it" Said Michael slowly sipping his wine.

"And I quote the priest 'We need only please Daophuse, Lord of Valgen' end quote.

Another quote from the priest 'Great lord Daophuse how may we sate you so that you will aid us in our task, your evil surpasses all present here and we humbly bow before you as mere novices, tell us your answer supreme one'. End quote.

Now I, from these statements it seems to me, some one is being referred to like a god, being worshiped like a god, and is a supreme being. And we are to sate him

Now may I quote from book of Webster 'Sate, transitive verb, to appease by indulging to the full' end quote

I happen to think that sating a Great lord and supreme one is about as close to pleasing a god as you are going to get."

Zackaroth:
No, demons left to themselves will not just go away. The statement I made was that we would conjure them up from Hell, and control them through the ritual parameters we set up. It is a basic tenet of Magic that the elemental forces must subject themselves to restrictions as set by the conjurors. If we tell them to go forth and lay waste the earth, and to cease their destruction on a particular date, at a particular time, then they must obey.

Potty 5:
It is commonplace for a demon to be assigned a god-like vernacular. However, neither the conjuror nor the demon are under any illusions concerning the actual status of a demon, i.e., a fallen angel. Angels, whether "good" or "bad" are created beings, and are therefore subject to Him who created them...OR...those who dare to step in and assume the place of Him. It may cost the conjurors their immortal souls,but, hey, ya wanna control the world or don't ya? No pain, no gain............

OOC: Don't suppose there's room for one more (slightly more refined) evil gentleman?

Teald looked disgusted at everyone in the room talking of demons. Talking slowly to liet...

"Strange...people. They want to summon up horrors from beyond our material plane only to destroy people.... How very...Strange."

Tealds voice pipes up.

"Well obviously either you lot or I...Have... Somewhat...Overshot the point eh? I came here with a will to control the world... not destroy it."

"If all you plan to do is kill off the many nations...then i will be obliged to take my leave and continue my plans else were."

Liet nodded in approval.

"At last some sense." The emperor said standing up the girls having to catch them selves before they would hit the ground. They did.

"Destruction is not necessary" he said after he picked up the bottle of vodka and took a swig of it.

"Either are gods. And any demons that do not reside in this room." he took another swig of the potato wine, and found it empty.

"Demon Killer Sake, and make it hot, and at least 5 liters" he yelled for a waiter to hear

The two girls quietly sat down in chairs on either side of where the Emperor had been sitting.

"Now I say we end the discussion of summoning demons, or paying head to any gods but our selves" A waiter arrived with five one liter bottles of hot 'demon killer' sake.

The girl to the right whispered to the one to the left, the one to the left then asking softly in a delicate voice "and one bottle of your finest normal sake"

The Emperor continued "Teald is correct" and took a swig of the sake. Despite his being a 'demon' the sake did not kill him but was just a rather more much potent form of sake.

OOC I am for letting Otagia in if Generic Empire will allow it

OOC: Don't suppose there's room for one more (slightly more refined) evil gentleman?

((OOC: From the looks of it, we could use one. Welcome to the club.

Everyone else, no more demons or magic or any other such bullshit-soaked schemes. This is the EDLAGC, not Dungeons and Dragons.))

Yaza saw that his suggestion was not going to be taken up, so he cracked open a mason jar of grain alcohol and began nipping at it. As he looked around for an unused, or slightly used, cigar, he had another idea.

" OK, how's about this? We just start annexing some of the smaller, newer nations. If they resist, we exert stronger and stronger control over them until they capitulate. All the ingrediants for a good campaign: agression, occupation, brutal repression...sounds like a good time could be had by all."

"Annexing smaller nations would get us nowhere. We are tring to show we are evil, annexing smaller nations happens all the time, nobody would care. Any other suggestions, or shall we write our name on the moon with a giant laser?"

"Detonation of low yield nuclear bomb say 10kt in say 23 capital cities simultaneously. Excluding our own capitals. Add in the Vatican, Bethlehem and Mecca to top it off."

"Alright! I've got a good idea. Any of these bastards that can successfully harvest the Man Eating Strangler Fig are then and only then allowed to present ideas. Or if they can win in a wrestling match with a Sawney.

Now for my evil idea. I say we try and exert economic power here. Why not form our monies into a conglomerate, buy a company, and then sell highly addictive Camel porn to school children everywhere? How's that sound."

Benji Ja gave a thumbs up and a dumbass smile before sitting down and stuffing some sort of greasy food stuff into his mouth.

The Great Leader lifted up his head, stained an off white from his drug binge, and turned to the group.

"Look guys, you're taking it the wrong way. Nobody should be thinking of an evil scheme, we should all just find better ways to get rich while knocking off our opponents. There's no such thing as good or evil, just power and money. Let's all think about ways that we can get rich that our competitors can't really do anything about. Besides, it'll be fun to watch them squirm."

The Great Leader dove into a large mound of cocaine and snorted it in one breath.

"And the Man Eating Strangler Fig.... hmm...."

One of the Imperial Guards quietly left the room.

"Well, I guess I could push more items of lucrative nature such as Human flesh, Human organs, blood, convict labor, and convicts. I could also offer some of my nations more advanced weapons for export. I do have managed some limited success in gaining monopolies in some markets in some nations."



OOC: The United Sovereign Nations of Southeastasia sent me some TGs

1st TG
"OOC: Hey Potty 5. I have an idea since you are a member of the EDLAGC. Why not suggest an invasion of Xirnium to display the military might of the EDALGC? It's a small country, and with Yallak, a big power as an ally. But it can easily be trumphed by your newfound allies, the Generic Empire, Freudotopia, Doomingsland, -Maqdha- (rping as Roach-Busters) and MassPwnage. The EDALGC shall rise and be a great supporter of corporatism!"

The second one was in response to me asking him if he wanted this because of his previous poor relations with said nation. He said no we get along now, and go along and tell you WMD club.

3rd TG
"OOC: BTW, I wanted to give X a new enemy, and since your new friends are powerful (Doonmingland is a master of the skies and an excellent weapon designer), I suggested you that."

"No, no, go back to the demons and magic. It was pretty damn funny."

A grinning young man in an expensive Japanese suit and stark white hair walked in to the room, taking a seat.

"And please, not human organs! My augmetic business is booming at the moment, I'd rather not see it go to hell. Now, convict labor and convicts I see going somewhere. Especially the convicts part. Generally nobody misses lifers anyway. And there's so many things you can use them for! Labor, experimentation, organ harve-scratch that one. But you get the point, I'm sure."

"I'll be happy to keep my nations organs off the international market; it means better health care back home... and or more exotic food."

The Emperor paused turned at started back towrds his steat, and spoke inbetween swigs of sake.

"How can we sell the convicts? Potty 5 has a national market in such but has never had international success in the selling of people. How can we make it catch on?"

The Emperor has he took a seat as an apparently normal human, albeit an aged, bald, heavy drinking one with some nice arm candy. The girls edge thier chairs over to him, Yizhu took his bottle and poured some of the saki into a cup, Hede offered the cup to the emperor who swiged it all down.

OOC: An Evil Dictator's store front?

"No, no, go back to the demons and magic. It was pretty damn funny."

A grinning young man in an expensive Japanese suit and stark white hair walked in to the room, taking a seat.

"And please, not human organs! My augmetic business is booming at the moment, I'd rather not see it go to hell. Now, convict labor and convicts I see going somewhere. Especially the convicts part. Generally nobody misses lifers anyway. And there's so many things you can use them for! Labor, experimentation, organ harve-scratch that one. But you get the point, I'm sure."
Maximus glanced over to the Otagian as he spoke and started laughing hysterically.

"Hey, aren't we kicking your asses right now?" he said with friendly grin.

A figure spoke up from the corner. Few had noticed him enter; after all, with the presence of so many other great dictators dominating the room it was difficult to notice another one. Especially since he was unarmed and unguarded, and had only been listening the entire time... not picking up any of the drugs or alcohol in the room. He smiled at the sight of the other dictators pouncing on the crates of drugs.

"Savages..."

Then the talk turned to demons and hell, and unleashing forces beyond the world. He shook his head and stepped into the light, interrupting the proceedings unmistakably. He was Emperor Lucius I, the meticulous and powerful ruler of Banduria. The Emperor was a soft-spoken man with a dreamy and faraway voice that was nevertheless immediately recognizable and audible. His grey eyes were kind and compassionate; he had once been a handsome man, although his grizzled hair was turning the color of iron. Few could imagine him begin an evil, psychotic dictator, but his appearance was violently irreconcilable with the calm way he had ordered the deaths of billions, designed systems of torture which made Puritania seem tame by comparison, and licenced the use of some of the most horrifying weapons known to mankind.

"Why bother releasing demons and other things we cannot control?" Lucius said, smiling as he looked around the room. "We have plenty of weapons that would release hell on earth that we could use to wipe out entire continents if we wished... and we would be willing to sell them to you. There are biological agents that spread as fast as cancer and cause the destruction of all life, and we can control them far better than we can control demons. This kind of destruction would easily convince people of our power... and the land would not become unusable as a result.

"Then there are Fanatics... The only drugs that are actually legal in Banduria are those that turn ordinary people into mindless killing machines. While I'm sure we all have different ways of creating such weapons... why not begin selling these to people in target countries? We would make a profit, and at the blow of a whistle half-crazed people would be rampaging around the country killing people. But humans, unlike demons, are mortal...

"I could go on and on."

"I'll be happy to keep my nations organs off the international market; it means better health care back home... and or more exotic food. How can we sell the convicts? Potty 5 has a national market in such but has never had international success in the selling of people. How can we make it catch on?"
OOC: An Evil Dictator's store front?

"I'd suggest searching for interested parties, or widening your search if you're already looking. For example, my company is always in the market for test subjects, although the requirements are a bit stringent occasionally. And there have to be others out there who'd be interested. Perhaps my people should look into it more..."

OOC: Not a bad idea. Could work quite well. Heck, PRA is almost there, just needs to sell slaves. Why do you think our motto is "The Apocalypse Can't Come Too Soon?"
Maximus glanced over to the Otagian as he spoke and started laughing hysterically.

"Hey, aren't we kicking your asses right now?" he said with friendly grin.

The man smiled warmly.

"Perhaps you are. Our forces in Phaethos were never particularily strong, we didn't quite expect such a massive attack on a relatively unimportant holding. Regardless, it has provided us with some interesting field data, which should prove to be useful in the future."

OOC: Sorry for no response recently there, I tend to jump back and forth from RPs a lot. Will get on a post soon.

Suddenly the huge man whispered into Michaels ear. He smiled and took a swig of his wine. " My..aid has just informed me of recent events in the world while we talk. You see Vizion had just lost a very important nuclear sub. It holds many nuclear bombs. Im not sure how many but we can ravage coast lines of countries that threaten us.


Also Vizon is sending out 600 teenagers convicted of horrible crimes. I say we hijack the ship and unleash into an unsupecting rivial country to stir up some amusement." He said smiling widley.

A man walked through the door, An obvious Tealdian. He was dragging a long chain.. attached to the end of said chain was a large cat like creature.

"Ah-ha!" Announced Teald.

Liet piped up "This is a Dire Sabertooth. Our contries prized animal."

Teald stood up and stroked the beast, it stood almost as tall as teald himself.

"We have been training them to be riden into war. And also released in small towns... You get the drift... There tame as a small puppy... But when given the right stimulent they can be quite the trouble."

The massive cat layed on the floor and yawned, Its massive teeth stretching the length of Tealds arm.

"I had a recent proposel by some beef manufacturer that they wanted to eat my babies... He was promtpy exucuted"

OOC: This is sad. Really, really sad. I remember the first EDLAGC. We partied. Not sat around and thought about how evil we were. The first one reminded me of Uberstock in all its glories. Now. I say this. Let us get this posturing over with right now. Let us go forth and scour the Earth. We'll find some nice group of nations that want to spread human rights and goodness. And we'll crush them in a long drawn out war which will almost certainly forge some of these younger nations into something nice, sleek, and evil. That's my two cents. But otherwise. If this continues with the posturing and the crappy evilness then I'll have to leave. Because it's taxing is what it is.

Alright then.

Yaza awoke with a start. He looked around, but it took a minute or two for him to remember where he was. Ah, yes, the dictator's meeting. He recalled a shouting match amongst the participants, the air thick with various smokey ingestibles. Seems it's calmed down a little, he thought.

Someone was finishing up another proposal. Declaring war on peaceful, pacifistic nations. Hell, that'll work. Just so we get going with something. This debauchery was beginning to wear him out.

"OK, gents, which do-gooder nation shall we start with?"

A guard has been there listening to the conversations of the evil dictators. He had a mission, he was a Rosian spy for Sergei, and Sergei was listening in real time... and he was disgusted. So he told the spy to throw down a fancy holographic communication device (we're in teh near future now, woot) to talk to the poor villains.

And he did.

"You!" Sergei shouted. He was in a suit, and yes he does look like Boris Yeltsin. "You disgust me, you are the worst villains, evar. Okay first of all, demons!? This is not a D&D convention, this is a friken' Gentleman's Club, with strippers! You are a disgrace upon mankind, disgusting. And you know what?! Demons are useless anyway, I know how to stop them. You give a phone call to God and he smites them, idiots."

He continued. "You people with your STUPID ideas. Invade a small country? Then you'll look like ***holes and not evil nations, disgusting. And of course blowing up the World is stupid since... we live in it. Now then..."

A pause. "... let me show you a truely evil plan. Number one, build an obscenely large, useless, weapon of mass destruction. All the best villains have done it. Dr. No, Goldfinger, that guy from Goldeneye (nobody cares about Pierce Brosnan) you know what I mean right? After that, set it up properly, but I mean properly. Don't take one thousand hours after you threaten to blow up something to set it up. No, set it up, then threaten. Demonstrate if you must, but just once! If it's battery powered then you'll just have to waste more money."

He went on. "Now then, you have your WMD, now it's time to use it. You can threaten an organization, the Free World, a country, whoever you want. You know it's disgraceful really. There are terrorist organizations smaller then you that are considered evil. Terror of the World? Killed a baby boy. Now the world hates him."

He shakes his head sadly. "Disgraceful. Emperor of Generia, it's your club. Take control! Emperor Helldawg, 'sup? JL, your money will be wired to your account. I guess I lost that bet involving the poodle and the large stack of honey nut cereals."

"Sir, your heart pills! You'll get a stroke!" Shouted somebody off camera.

"I don't need no heart pills, ah, stroke!" And thus Sergei Ilyanov had a stroke and fell.

The Rosian spy looked around. "Ummm... your mother!" He ran away and jumped out a window, leaving the holograph thing with the Dictators to steal and copy the technology.

OOC: This is sad. Really, really sad. I remember the first EDLAGC. We partied. Not sat around and thought about how evil we were. The first one reminded me of Uberstock in all its glories. Now. I say this. Let us get this posturing over with right now. Let us go forth and scour the Earth. We'll find some nice group of nations that want to spread human rights and goodness. And we'll crush them in a long drawn out war which will almost certainly forge some of these younger nations into something nice, sleek, and evil. That's my two cents. But otherwise. If this continues with the posturing and the crappy evilness then I'll have to leave. Because it's taxing is what it is.

Alright then.

Indeed.

"Hmm. Get him"

The Huge Cat lunged off his hind legs and after the spy, sounds of crunching bones and screams ensued...

Teald got up and grabbed the holographic disk.

"First to hit it wins"

After these words he threw it high into the air.

Having been silent the entire meeting since well before most of the "Esteemed Gentlemen" arrived, Alaric Rahl cleared his throat in a distict gesture that silenced the pathetic chit chat that had taken over these once hallowed halls. Not the largest of men present, he was six foot two inches and 240 pounds. Of Arian decent, broad shouldered with blond hair, it was his eyes that caught the attention of most. A sharp blue that seemed to bare your soul before his unwavering gaze. He did not seem to be an evil man at all based on appearance, looking more the trustworthy type. He had waited all this time to judge this "Club."
"Gentlemen, I have two suggestions. A simple to introduce plan that will accomplish all our goals with one crushing blow. A biological weapon. (OOC:admittedly there are several races here not human, and though this seems sily to me, it has been accepted in this RP. Thus I ask that you not say that one bio weapon would be worthless as there are more species, as I'm sure each species, being worthy of note here, are advanced enough to have their own variations on bio weaponry.) It could be a plague unleashed on the populace, with certain immunizations granted to our own food stocks to save the majority of our own poplaces from the scourge. The ones falling by the wayside, noone really cares about those. It could also be a weapon targeted at food supplies or crops, however this might be more difficult to keep from our own lands. Or a mixture of both. All of you know the devastation caused by plague. People lose all hope, they will put faith in any 'cure' viable or not. Who, you ask, would be there with a working cure? Us of course. The democratic lands' own people would turn against them. We make the opposing governments out to be the evil ones, and a holy war for 'freedom from oppression (or insert your title here)' could be launched. What could be a more humiliating defeat for those that futher the cause of democracy than to have their own people turn on them? Of course the people would eventually realize what we did, but by then it will be too late, and hope of resistence will be weak.
Secondly, we need to have order in this "Gentlemans' Club." We are Gentlemen, act like it. Please, questions? Comments?"

That is evil, and cunning. I like it.

Mr. Gray had watched the proceedings with interest. The open floor had revealed the true nature of many of the 'members' of the club. Some of them were genuine evil geniuses. Many more were no better than bickering children. Now he stood and raised his hands, and the room fell silent. He began to pace slowly around the long table.

"Gentlemen, while I hold many of your respective ideas in utmost regard, I will confess that our plot has already been decided in collaboration with Emperor Kazatmiru and Emperor Helldawg."

The wall behind Kazatmiru's throne suddenly lit up, and a map of the world appeared. Illuminated was the nation of Praetonia.

"Praetonia. One of evil's oldest nemeses. A bastion of the corrupt democratic system."

A rumbling started among the dictators. Some light hissing could be heard, and someone threw a drink at the map.

"Our sources have informed us that the Praetonian government has recently developed a new device, an extraordinarily powerful electro-magnet for use in space based scientific research. It is the conclusion of myself and Emperor Helldawg that we lay hands on this device and twist it for our own sinister purposes."

Gray nodded to Helldawg who took the floor.

"Gentlemen, if properly calibrated, this weapon could be used to generate a force large enough to shift bodies larger than the moon. There is no telling what we could do with such power. The Praetonian government will be transporting the weapon between research facilities via a prototype supersonic transport aircraft. If we were to insert an agent to hijack the aircraft and crash it off the coast of an EDLAGC facility, we could easily retrieve the weapon. Then it would only be a matter of holding the free world hostage with our newfound might. The name of the EDLAGC would once again be feared and respected!"

Mr. Gray began to chuckle in a most sinister fashion. Soon the entire room was full of maniacal laughter.

((OOC: That's our plan. Pretty damn ingenious isn't it? You can compliment my brilliance later. Now for a new thread.

Because there are too many members, some of whom didn't contribute very productively at all, the new thread will be closed to the members which i specify. I'll link it here. Let the evil begin.))

Cyrus stood up at the end of this speech from the head of this party, and cleared his throat.

"I have several agents I feel would love this sort of job. I know each of them would jump at such an oppurtunity to prove themselves. I would personally love to do this job myself, but avast I am advancing age wise and I feel it wouldn't be the wisest."

Cyrus stopped for a second with a coughing fit, and took a sip of his drink.

"These agents are top of the line, and are up in line to take over my position. Thus they want to prove their undying loyalty to me. I have the confidence that they will not fail. In the hundereds of missions I have assigned to them they have perhaps come across unsuccessfully once. With that, I will let you make your decision."

Cyrus took another sip of his drink to quell the coughing fit he knew was coming up. He sat back down, and scratched Trilly's head.

"An eletro magnet? Could not any nation here build a loop of superconductive wire and submerge it in liqued helium? Then run emense current through it. That would be by defanition an eletro magnet, and it could be scaled indefintly by justadded more power as long as it is kept below the temperture that the wire is superconducting."

Teald stood up with a nod to Cyrus.

"He raises a good offer, I am willing to meet it and send a few of my Special Op's along with his forces. Or if you want cannon fodder i can send a few hundred Grunts. Take it or leave it, But my infantary are famed."

Liet nodded and took out a note pad.

"If you wish to request any troops ask Liet, He will jot them down and order them up."

Teald scratched his neck and swayed on his heals slightly before sitting down.

"I am tired..." He yawned. "This plan you propose. It is much more to my likeing, No silly fairy tales involved."