Although crime rates in the Principality of Taured are small, specially murders, they are never zero. When Count Arnold Großjäger, the most hated Tauredan Lord, throws a banquet on his property for the over 1,200 Tauredan nobles and special guests, the chances of something getting out of his hands are big. Will his 60th birthday turn into a scandal for the Tauredan nobility? If so, how will they get hid of those bloodstains on their silk covers?
Bloodstains on the silk covers
- Thread starter Tardine
- Start date
The most important event of the year will soon happen on the Großjäger Palace. Everyone who is someone is invited to the Banquet thrown in order to celebrate my 60th anniversary. My eldest son, Arturo, shall inherit my title as soon as he turns 30, which means I will remain as the Count Großjäger for six more years, much to everyone's happiness.
To whoever is reading, access the official website of the House Großjäger and see if you are deemed worthy of attending!
#GroßjägerHaus #ZählenGroßjäger #Großjägerbanquet #taured #principalityoftauredTo whoever is reading, access the official website of the House Großjäger and see if you are deemed worthy of attending!
397 Retwitches • 1.1K Likes
nah bro, nobody wants to attend the shitty party of the most disgusting Tauredan Lord
#shittyLord #Großjägersucks #outwiththenobles
961 Retwitches • 3K Likes
Young man, you hide under the false pretense of anonymity. I should let you know that, as soon as I discover who you are, I shall imprison you.
#GroßjägerHaus #ZählenGroßjäger #ArnoldGroßjäger
1 Retwitches • 4 Likes
Private Group Chat
23 April 2024 04:00 PM
YOU MUST DISCOVER WHO THE HELL IS @random_commoner AND SENTENCE HIM TO DEATH.
23 April 2024 04:36 PM
First of all. I'm not simply sending someone to their death just because you has told me to. Second. You do not even know whether this random commoner is Tauredan. Have you even thought of that?
23 April 2024 04:37 PM
How dare you. I almost own this country.
23 April 2024 04:39 PM
Last time I checked, I was still the Prince. So think twice about what you say to me. Besides I'd rather have the economy be half its current size with a quarter of the population if that meant less trouble. And if it also meant Taured without you.
23 April 2024 04:39 PM
You think too high of yourself, Prince.
23 April 2024 04:50 PM
And you are an entitled ass that no one likes. So what? Anyway I will look at this matter later.
23 April 2024 04:55 PM
You have until the end of the week to solve this. I do not want to ask twice, got it?
23 April 2024 05:45 PM
DON'T YOU DARE NOT ANSWER ME.
23 April 2024 06:12 PM
ANSWER ME. NOW!
25 April 2024 11:00 AM
You are so fucking annoying that sometimes wish I could kill you with my bare hands. To answer you stupid question, @random_commoner is NOT a Tauredan citizen, so it's out of my jurisdiction.
25 April 2024 11:02 AM
You are fucking inutile.
25 April 2024 02:10 PM
I will not be tolerating any more insults. Next time I will throw you into prison and take all of your assets, including your cheap clothing brand. Vogue or whatever.
25 April 2024 02:11 PM
IT IS CALLED ROGUE, YOU MORON. AND IT IS NOT CHEAP. IT IS A LUXURY BRAND.
25 April 2024 11:28 PM
Whatever. Please leave me alone for a month or more now. Otherwise I will simply block you.
May 11th, 2024
At the Palace of Count Arnold Großjäger
Evening
At the Palace of Count Arnold Großjäger
Evening
Enormous for such a small country, specially considering its over 1 million square feet of area, the opulent Großjäger property, really stood out to whoever saw it. Due to its massive walls and towers that seemed to reach for the sky, one could say it almost outshined the capital city, Tauredia. After all, the so-called event of the year would happen inside of these very walls. Taured is a really picturesque nation, smaller than most cities of most countries, yet has, within its walls (yes, another interesting fact of this strange people is that Taured's borders are completely walled) an unexpected diversity that most would be surprised to find.
As the Sun set, the more than two thousand attendees could feel the warm spring breeze. On the colorful garden full of blossoming plants, they would walk and mingle. There were red roses, lilacs, sunflowers, and some unknown plants also, perhaps native ones. Lord Großjäger is a stylish man whose comments perhaps lack a bit of polishing and moderation, was the opinion of the majority of the foreigners present. Among the natives, though, something that arose general envy and hatred towards him, is the fact that his company has a nominal value bigger than the entire nation's GDP.
Still, pretending that they liked Lord Großjäger, the nobles and dignitaries alike should simply smile and wave. After some while, though, Prinz Alessandro Rivera finally arrived. Arnold was waiting for the Prince, as it was considered rude to begin formal events without the Prince present. As soon as Alessandro arrived, though, Arnold hurriedly grabbed and scolded him.
"How dare you arrive late for my banquet?" Lord Großjäger whispered in an angry tone. "You know how much I hate when people are late."
"Fuck you." Was the cold answer of the Prince. "You are not the Prince, stop acting like you are the owner of this country."
"I am the fucking owner of this country, don't you forget about it." Arnold answered more irritated.
"I am this close to simply leaving this shithole." Alessandro said fiercely. "Can you imagine the humiliation it would be if I simply left?"
"Fine, have your way." Großjäger left the Prince alone. "I'll begin the ceremony now."
As the Sun set, the more than two thousand attendees could feel the warm spring breeze. On the colorful garden full of blossoming plants, they would walk and mingle. There were red roses, lilacs, sunflowers, and some unknown plants also, perhaps native ones. Lord Großjäger is a stylish man whose comments perhaps lack a bit of polishing and moderation, was the opinion of the majority of the foreigners present. Among the natives, though, something that arose general envy and hatred towards him, is the fact that his company has a nominal value bigger than the entire nation's GDP.
Still, pretending that they liked Lord Großjäger, the nobles and dignitaries alike should simply smile and wave. After some while, though, Prinz Alessandro Rivera finally arrived. Arnold was waiting for the Prince, as it was considered rude to begin formal events without the Prince present. As soon as Alessandro arrived, though, Arnold hurriedly grabbed and scolded him.
"How dare you arrive late for my banquet?" Lord Großjäger whispered in an angry tone. "You know how much I hate when people are late."
"Fuck you." Was the cold answer of the Prince. "You are not the Prince, stop acting like you are the owner of this country."
"I am the fucking owner of this country, don't you forget about it." Arnold answered more irritated.
"I am this close to simply leaving this shithole." Alessandro said fiercely. "Can you imagine the humiliation it would be if I simply left?"
"Fine, have your way." Großjäger left the Prince alone. "I'll begin the ceremony now."
After letting the guests mingle and talk, Lord Großjäger clinked his glass and asked for everyone's attention. The ball would soon start and, as it was customary, he would drink a sip of his wine so that everyone could dance. Everyone was paying close attention to the Lord. The fun was about to begin.
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
- TNP Nation
- Prydania
- Discord
- lordgigaice
9 May 2024
Eskilborg, Prydania
Commander Astrid Ruud thumbed through the file marked TOP SECRET, glancing up at the screens as Max Hveiti sipped some coffee, his bright orange and green Skandan shirt a bit of colour in the darkened room.
"Vaban 'the Jackal' Baria," Max said as the image of a Shivan man in his mid thirties, shaved head, a trimmed beard, and a scar over one eye, popped up on the room's major screen.
"Orphaned at the age of eleven when his parents were killed by the Iraelian Army."
"Innocents caught in the crossfire?" Astrid remarked. Max, however, shook his head.
"His father was a freelance bomb maker, selling his services to any revolutionary Shivan outfit that wanted them. His mother was his father's handler." Max took another sip of his coffee.
"In more ways than one."
"We don't know what happened to him after that, frankly, but he popped up around ten years ago as an overworked and underpaid assassin in the employ of the Aydini government. We can summarize one of his parents' contacts got a hold of him when they were killed."
"And now he works for the Ten Rings," Astrid said firmly. Indeed, pictures of Baria and the Satrap popped up, the two holding rifles in the desert somewhere, taking potshots at targets, the pictures blurry but clear enough to make out who they were.
"Já," Max replied, the ÖSU chief setting his mug down.
"The Ten Rings' existence, beyond the rumours that was, was only confirmed with their hijacking of the Iraelian ambassador four months ago, but our frantic catchup has born some interesting revelations. We know Vaban has been with the Ten Rings for at least seven years, possibly longer, and is responsible for at least twelve assassinations the world over."
"And no one caught this guy's trail?" Astrid asked, raising an eyebrow.
"His targets," Max replied, "were low level bureaucrats and middlemen. The type of people that, if the killings were spread out enough, could be written off as one-off murders. But together..."
Max hit a button on the remote he'd picked up and a series of newspaper clippings from the world over lined up.
"They form a pattern. Knock off the right middle man here and there, get someone else... someone in your pocket... to replace him, and you can effectively blackmail large sections of the worlds' governments without anyone, even the people on the take, knowing."
"So you want me to kill him then," Astrid said, as she looked at the photo of Vaban.
"No," Max said, to Astrid's shock.
"Fate, as it seems, has given us an oppertunity. The Jackal will be at a banquet in Taured hosted by this man, Lord Zählen Arnold Großjäger."
The image of Zählen Arnold Großjäger came to the forefront of the screen in the command centre.
"He's the richest man in Taured, worth roughly one hundred billion IBUs."
"Is he also tied to the Ten Rings?" Astrid asked, tilting her head as she looked at Großjäger's picture.
"No, but his banquet will provide a cover for the Ten Rings. You see, the Jackal will be at his banquet not because he's friends with the good Lord Großjäger but because he'll be meeting these men. Major Shao Fen and Yang Wuhan. Major Shao leads a criminal syndicate in Ba Feng called the Shunt, with ties to both the Ba Feng and Arianese militaries. They have aquired a briefcase sized nuclear device and will be selling it to the Ten Rings through the Jackall for ten million IBUs."
"Holy shit..." Astrid muttered. She was a Commander in the Royal Marines before being recruited into the ÖSU. Before that she was an anti-Syndicalist partisan. She knew war... and maniacs like the Ten Rings getting a nuclear bomb would not be good for anyone.
"Quite," Max replied.
"This is where our break comes in. Our intel tells us that the Jackal will be carrying certified bonds worth ten million IBUs for the exchange. Your mission will be to make contact with him before the meetup. Seduce him. Use this access to substitute his bonds with counterfit bonds, and fall back. When Shao and Yang realize the payment is fraudlent they will contact the Ten Rings and go after the Jackal. The Ten Rings will disown him, thinking he's stolen their money. Shao and Yang will want him dead for ripping them off and stealing their ten million IBU nuke. That's where you come in, offering him sanctuary in Prydania. We extract him, stage a suicide using a double, and get our hands on both the nuke and an invaluable source of Ten Rings intellegence."
Astrid looked at Max....
"Seduce?"
"Is that a problem?" Max asked back coldly.
"You knew what this job was when you said 'já.'"
Astrid narrowed her grey eyes just a bit, but shook her head.
"No. It won't be a problem."
"Didn't think so," Max replied as he picked up his mug to finish off his coffee.
"Besides, you don't even have to lay on your back for him. Play it right and you can get it done without it going that far."
"Thanks.... chief," Astrid remarked, shaking her head.
But he had a point. She knew the game. She'd agreed to it. And this wouldn't be the first time.
"Here's your ticket to Taured, your flight leaves in five hours. See the quartermaster before you head out."
Astrid nodded, taking the ticket and stuffing it in her jacket. She desperately wanted to say something, but knew it wouldn't change anything. So she just turned to leave. And just before she left Hveiti's office...
"Agent X-27? Good luck."
Astrid turned, and nodded.
"Danke, chief," was all she said before leaving. She had packing to get to.
Perfect Enemy by t.A.T.u., 4:12
Eskilborg, Prydania
Commander Astrid Ruud thumbed through the file marked TOP SECRET, glancing up at the screens as Max Hveiti sipped some coffee, his bright orange and green Skandan shirt a bit of colour in the darkened room.
"Vaban 'the Jackal' Baria," Max said as the image of a Shivan man in his mid thirties, shaved head, a trimmed beard, and a scar over one eye, popped up on the room's major screen.
"Orphaned at the age of eleven when his parents were killed by the Iraelian Army."
"Innocents caught in the crossfire?" Astrid remarked. Max, however, shook his head.
"His father was a freelance bomb maker, selling his services to any revolutionary Shivan outfit that wanted them. His mother was his father's handler." Max took another sip of his coffee.
"In more ways than one."
"We don't know what happened to him after that, frankly, but he popped up around ten years ago as an overworked and underpaid assassin in the employ of the Aydini government. We can summarize one of his parents' contacts got a hold of him when they were killed."
"And now he works for the Ten Rings," Astrid said firmly. Indeed, pictures of Baria and the Satrap popped up, the two holding rifles in the desert somewhere, taking potshots at targets, the pictures blurry but clear enough to make out who they were.
"Já," Max replied, the ÖSU chief setting his mug down.
"The Ten Rings' existence, beyond the rumours that was, was only confirmed with their hijacking of the Iraelian ambassador four months ago, but our frantic catchup has born some interesting revelations. We know Vaban has been with the Ten Rings for at least seven years, possibly longer, and is responsible for at least twelve assassinations the world over."
"And no one caught this guy's trail?" Astrid asked, raising an eyebrow.
"His targets," Max replied, "were low level bureaucrats and middlemen. The type of people that, if the killings were spread out enough, could be written off as one-off murders. But together..."
Max hit a button on the remote he'd picked up and a series of newspaper clippings from the world over lined up.
"They form a pattern. Knock off the right middle man here and there, get someone else... someone in your pocket... to replace him, and you can effectively blackmail large sections of the worlds' governments without anyone, even the people on the take, knowing."
"So you want me to kill him then," Astrid said, as she looked at the photo of Vaban.
"No," Max said, to Astrid's shock.
"Fate, as it seems, has given us an oppertunity. The Jackal will be at a banquet in Taured hosted by this man, Lord Zählen Arnold Großjäger."
The image of Zählen Arnold Großjäger came to the forefront of the screen in the command centre.
"He's the richest man in Taured, worth roughly one hundred billion IBUs."
"Is he also tied to the Ten Rings?" Astrid asked, tilting her head as she looked at Großjäger's picture.
"No, but his banquet will provide a cover for the Ten Rings. You see, the Jackal will be at his banquet not because he's friends with the good Lord Großjäger but because he'll be meeting these men. Major Shao Fen and Yang Wuhan. Major Shao leads a criminal syndicate in Ba Feng called the Shunt, with ties to both the Ba Feng and Arianese militaries. They have aquired a briefcase sized nuclear device and will be selling it to the Ten Rings through the Jackall for ten million IBUs."
"Holy shit..." Astrid muttered. She was a Commander in the Royal Marines before being recruited into the ÖSU. Before that she was an anti-Syndicalist partisan. She knew war... and maniacs like the Ten Rings getting a nuclear bomb would not be good for anyone.
"Quite," Max replied.
"This is where our break comes in. Our intel tells us that the Jackal will be carrying certified bonds worth ten million IBUs for the exchange. Your mission will be to make contact with him before the meetup. Seduce him. Use this access to substitute his bonds with counterfit bonds, and fall back. When Shao and Yang realize the payment is fraudlent they will contact the Ten Rings and go after the Jackal. The Ten Rings will disown him, thinking he's stolen their money. Shao and Yang will want him dead for ripping them off and stealing their ten million IBU nuke. That's where you come in, offering him sanctuary in Prydania. We extract him, stage a suicide using a double, and get our hands on both the nuke and an invaluable source of Ten Rings intellegence."
Astrid looked at Max....
"Seduce?"
"Is that a problem?" Max asked back coldly.
"You knew what this job was when you said 'já.'"
Astrid narrowed her grey eyes just a bit, but shook her head.
"No. It won't be a problem."
"Didn't think so," Max replied as he picked up his mug to finish off his coffee.
"Besides, you don't even have to lay on your back for him. Play it right and you can get it done without it going that far."
"Thanks.... chief," Astrid remarked, shaking her head.
But he had a point. She knew the game. She'd agreed to it. And this wouldn't be the first time.
"Here's your ticket to Taured, your flight leaves in five hours. See the quartermaster before you head out."
Astrid nodded, taking the ticket and stuffing it in her jacket. She desperately wanted to say something, but knew it wouldn't change anything. So she just turned to leave. And just before she left Hveiti's office...
"Agent X-27? Good luck."
Astrid turned, and nodded.
"Danke, chief," was all she said before leaving. She had packing to get to.
Perfect Enemy by t.A.T.u., 4:12
Last edited:
Gothis
Principality of Taured
Grobjager Estate
Gothis wasn’t the sort of place you usually expected to see an Iterian mega star holiday, there was a perception of cold haughtiness when the northern continent toward the far north that fairly or not did not seem in any hurry to be dispelled. Perhaps it was a holdover from colonialism and empire, but most people in Astragon regarded the Gotic world with wary suspicion at best and outright militant hostility at worst.
Winston Ambode was not most people, he was that rarest of things in Astragon, Winston Ambode was a self made man. His filmography spanned over 40 years, highlights including a lotus* award for best supporting actor for his role as Tsuba Tsango in the Mboto Jones biopic and a Savimbi* for his starring turn as Lome Solomon* in Red summer. It was a far cry from his days as a farmers son in rural Astragon.
Perhaps it was his natural curiosity that pushed him to visit Gothis, he had never been content to simply take things at face value,Winston always wanted to see the world through his own eyes first. When his agent had informed him of a potential tour of Gothis, Ambode had jumped at the chance, popular stereotypes be damned.
Frisia and Hessunland had been elegant examples of modernity, Even Andrenne possessed a unmistakable dynamism that made it oddly endearing in its own way. Now though he was moving deeper inland and the further he travelled the more the old continent began to emerge, feudalism the order of the day and modernity paid lip service at best.The principality Taured seemed to exemplify this more then anywhere else that Winston had visited.
Taured was an oddity, like so many places in Gothis it seemed frozen in time like a fly caught in amber. For an Iterian like Winston Ambode that crystallized social life was not so different, after all his own Astragon was countless millennia old. However, where Astragon had attempted to reform its most archaic quirks, here in Taured they were unashamedly celebrated as marks of honour.
The privileges of nobility in old Iteria remained of course, but they had been superceded in power by the sprawling imperia bureaucracy. Taured was not so enlightened, here the nobility reigned absolute as they always had, in Astragon such a privilege was reserved for the Empress alone. Winston had read about the Gotic middle ages, a period of warring states and princely rulers, it seemed that while the technology had advanced the nation remained otherwise unchanged.
Still, the country was beautiful, the wine was good and for the price of a few public engagements Winston was enjoying an otherwise leisurely holiday. The grand finale to his Gotic tour was of course the counts birthday, an extravagant occasion that spared neither expense nor pageantry.
At 66 Ambode was in the rarefied position of never having to be anywhere he did not wish to be, a stellar career in film and several pragmatic financial ventures had provided Winston with a fortune that would outlive both himself and several generations after. Wealth did however come with one unintended side effect, intense and often maddening bouts of utter boredom.
Winston didn’t need to work, he didn’t need to cook, clean or even leave his bed, his wealth had removed any sense of urgency from his life. Gone were the hardscrabble days as a struggling actor in a Tyrooz bedsit and all but forgotten were the pained sensations of an empty stomach or despair of a shrinking bank balance. In order to feel alive the veteran actor now found himself chasing experiences the world over.
Taured was definitely an experience, from the walls that surrounded the principality to the sprawling palace of its wealthiest citizen.count Arnold Grobjaeger certainly seemed determined to display his wealth and superiority at every available opportunity, Ambode had caught brief glimpses of the man and his initial estimations were not particularly flattering.
Count Arnold dressed like a pretentious college professor and his diminutive stature and self important mannerisms seemed to hint at deep delusions of grandeur and likely even more deeply embedded insecurities.Here was a man that craved attention but garnered neither love nor respect, Ambode had seen those that wielded real power, they didn’t declare it at every turn like the count seemed want to do.
The comparison between his empress with her stoic persona and tendency toward blunt minimalism and this petty noble with his endless self aggrandizement was an amusing contrast. Real power did not need to announce itself at every turn, it was self evident. Ambode was no politician but even he could see the underlying tension present at this ostentatious reception.
`Drink wine and let the barbarians feud` Ambode muttered remembering Baku’s* ancient axioms
Dressed in a silk fila of red leopard print and a pair of dark jeans, Ambode was decidedly relaxed and looking forward to observing whatever drama unfolded, even if he didn’t care to participate. He looked up to see the sullen lordling arguing with an older man who seemed utterly exhausted by his petulant host.
`This night will be many things, dull will not be one of them` he thought with a mischievous grin.
*The Pan iterian film academies highest award
*Astragons most coveted film distinction
*famous fictional detective created by acclaimed noir writer Noku Nazinga, popularly known for his iconic red blazer and yamulka.
*Utembe Baku, a prominent philosopher and statesmen during the reign of Emperor Sakuru Dembe
Principality of Taured
Grobjager Estate
Gothis wasn’t the sort of place you usually expected to see an Iterian mega star holiday, there was a perception of cold haughtiness when the northern continent toward the far north that fairly or not did not seem in any hurry to be dispelled. Perhaps it was a holdover from colonialism and empire, but most people in Astragon regarded the Gotic world with wary suspicion at best and outright militant hostility at worst.
Winston Ambode was not most people, he was that rarest of things in Astragon, Winston Ambode was a self made man. His filmography spanned over 40 years, highlights including a lotus* award for best supporting actor for his role as Tsuba Tsango in the Mboto Jones biopic and a Savimbi* for his starring turn as Lome Solomon* in Red summer. It was a far cry from his days as a farmers son in rural Astragon.
Perhaps it was his natural curiosity that pushed him to visit Gothis, he had never been content to simply take things at face value,Winston always wanted to see the world through his own eyes first. When his agent had informed him of a potential tour of Gothis, Ambode had jumped at the chance, popular stereotypes be damned.
Frisia and Hessunland had been elegant examples of modernity, Even Andrenne possessed a unmistakable dynamism that made it oddly endearing in its own way. Now though he was moving deeper inland and the further he travelled the more the old continent began to emerge, feudalism the order of the day and modernity paid lip service at best.The principality Taured seemed to exemplify this more then anywhere else that Winston had visited.
Taured was an oddity, like so many places in Gothis it seemed frozen in time like a fly caught in amber. For an Iterian like Winston Ambode that crystallized social life was not so different, after all his own Astragon was countless millennia old. However, where Astragon had attempted to reform its most archaic quirks, here in Taured they were unashamedly celebrated as marks of honour.
The privileges of nobility in old Iteria remained of course, but they had been superceded in power by the sprawling imperia bureaucracy. Taured was not so enlightened, here the nobility reigned absolute as they always had, in Astragon such a privilege was reserved for the Empress alone. Winston had read about the Gotic middle ages, a period of warring states and princely rulers, it seemed that while the technology had advanced the nation remained otherwise unchanged.
Still, the country was beautiful, the wine was good and for the price of a few public engagements Winston was enjoying an otherwise leisurely holiday. The grand finale to his Gotic tour was of course the counts birthday, an extravagant occasion that spared neither expense nor pageantry.
At 66 Ambode was in the rarefied position of never having to be anywhere he did not wish to be, a stellar career in film and several pragmatic financial ventures had provided Winston with a fortune that would outlive both himself and several generations after. Wealth did however come with one unintended side effect, intense and often maddening bouts of utter boredom.
Winston didn’t need to work, he didn’t need to cook, clean or even leave his bed, his wealth had removed any sense of urgency from his life. Gone were the hardscrabble days as a struggling actor in a Tyrooz bedsit and all but forgotten were the pained sensations of an empty stomach or despair of a shrinking bank balance. In order to feel alive the veteran actor now found himself chasing experiences the world over.
Taured was definitely an experience, from the walls that surrounded the principality to the sprawling palace of its wealthiest citizen.count Arnold Grobjaeger certainly seemed determined to display his wealth and superiority at every available opportunity, Ambode had caught brief glimpses of the man and his initial estimations were not particularly flattering.
Count Arnold dressed like a pretentious college professor and his diminutive stature and self important mannerisms seemed to hint at deep delusions of grandeur and likely even more deeply embedded insecurities.Here was a man that craved attention but garnered neither love nor respect, Ambode had seen those that wielded real power, they didn’t declare it at every turn like the count seemed want to do.
The comparison between his empress with her stoic persona and tendency toward blunt minimalism and this petty noble with his endless self aggrandizement was an amusing contrast. Real power did not need to announce itself at every turn, it was self evident. Ambode was no politician but even he could see the underlying tension present at this ostentatious reception.
`Drink wine and let the barbarians feud` Ambode muttered remembering Baku’s* ancient axioms
Dressed in a silk fila of red leopard print and a pair of dark jeans, Ambode was decidedly relaxed and looking forward to observing whatever drama unfolded, even if he didn’t care to participate. He looked up to see the sullen lordling arguing with an older man who seemed utterly exhausted by his petulant host.
`This night will be many things, dull will not be one of them` he thought with a mischievous grin.
*The Pan iterian film academies highest award
*Astragons most coveted film distinction
*famous fictional detective created by acclaimed noir writer Noku Nazinga, popularly known for his iconic red blazer and yamulka.
*Utembe Baku, a prominent philosopher and statesmen during the reign of Emperor Sakuru Dembe
Last edited:
Alsatian Island
TNPer
- Pronouns
- he/his
- TNP Nation
- Alsatian Island
the evening of 10 May, 2024
on a plane leaving Yonder, the Ereways
"The old bastard's been trying to urge me not to go," Prince Robert began disdainfully, "but I told Uncle Arthur that I wasn't doing jackshit for him until he gave back my titles."
Robert's twenty-something son, Frederick - a name the lad had hated from the moment he learnt of... his namesake - raised an eyebrow. "And yet here I am, following you on this godforsaken trip to some despotic city-state."
"A-"
"And don't you fucking dare pretend this is a way to stand up to the King. It is plainly not - you are doing this to get in front of cameras."
Now it was Robert whose eyebrow was raised. "I am a leading politician, not just a second-class royal."
"You were banned from politics, remember, for... whichever conspiracy it was that the courts put first on that bottomless list. It's good they never had to print that off, so we've still got some forests left."
"Yes, because Esthursia has no value for free speech anymore," Robert grumbled, as the plane taxied its way around Yonder-Ruegballey International Airport. They were probably the only Esthursians on the plane - the only Esthursians leaving Yonder at this time of year were elderly couples and backpackers, and they would be going back to the rainy mainland, not to a far-off city-state on the southern fringe of Gothis. Frederick stifled a laugh, but did not deign to engage in the lecture on how insulting entire swaths of people did not come under one's natural rights - he knew it would just rile him up, at the end of the day. He'd been down the other path enough times to know that one.
"What do you know of Taured, father?" Fred asked, smiling.
As the bright houses of Yonder - or Ruegballey as the Ellansh called it, very insistently, the idea of their hometown being called the equivalent of "over there" was nearly insulting - faded beneath the haze of light cloud sprinkled over the Ereways, Robert turned back to his son, having utterly forgotten the question.
"Yes, yes, an absolutely torrid affair, I agree."
"... right." Frederick said, taking a moment to imagine himself facepalming. "What I said was, what do you know of Taured?"
Absolutely no words left Robert's mouth. The old man was never the best on geography.
"So you are flying halfway across the world based on an invitation to an event held in a country you know utterly nothing whatsoever about? It might have been an active warzone for all you knew, and I'd have followed you into the fucking battlefield!"
Robert smiled knowingly. "Stop exaggerating, boy."
"Esthursia's most prominent exaggerator just told me to stop exaggerating. Clearly I'm doing something wrong, eh?" Fred reached for his phone, and then remembered it would be on aeroplane mode. He'd never worked out why that one was so necessary, but equally the middle of the Consence Ocean was potentially not the best place for WiFi regardless. "Right, well... Taured is on the south coast of Gothis. It's a country, just about. Small, urban, rather wealthy actually. Imagine if someone shrank Weskerby in a washing machine and yanked out all the socialism and rain. The man who invited you is endlessly wealthy, with the high-end fashion company he owns."
"Sounds lovely."
"Said company is banned in Esthursia, so you may not have heard of them, dad."
Robert's eyebrows went up a second time. "Of course it bloody well is, this country."
Fred considered for a second. "Is there... anything you like about your own country that you are supposedly a royal of?"
"I quite like Cordane. Their history is... fascinating, proud, clean."
He did not just say that. Frederick went dead silent, eyes more open than the rumour about Frederick's parentage. And that's why you do not ask Dad open questions.
Fred opened a book - an Esthur through and through, so the book was thicker than your average tree trunk - and buried his head deep inside of it for the duration of the flight, noting that his father had dutifully nodded off.
on a plane leaving Yonder, the Ereways
"The old bastard's been trying to urge me not to go," Prince Robert began disdainfully, "but I told Uncle Arthur that I wasn't doing jackshit for him until he gave back my titles."
Robert's twenty-something son, Frederick - a name the lad had hated from the moment he learnt of... his namesake - raised an eyebrow. "And yet here I am, following you on this godforsaken trip to some despotic city-state."
"A-"
"And don't you fucking dare pretend this is a way to stand up to the King. It is plainly not - you are doing this to get in front of cameras."
Now it was Robert whose eyebrow was raised. "I am a leading politician, not just a second-class royal."
"You were banned from politics, remember, for... whichever conspiracy it was that the courts put first on that bottomless list. It's good they never had to print that off, so we've still got some forests left."
"Yes, because Esthursia has no value for free speech anymore," Robert grumbled, as the plane taxied its way around Yonder-Ruegballey International Airport. They were probably the only Esthursians on the plane - the only Esthursians leaving Yonder at this time of year were elderly couples and backpackers, and they would be going back to the rainy mainland, not to a far-off city-state on the southern fringe of Gothis. Frederick stifled a laugh, but did not deign to engage in the lecture on how insulting entire swaths of people did not come under one's natural rights - he knew it would just rile him up, at the end of the day. He'd been down the other path enough times to know that one.
"What do you know of Taured, father?" Fred asked, smiling.
As the bright houses of Yonder - or Ruegballey as the Ellansh called it, very insistently, the idea of their hometown being called the equivalent of "over there" was nearly insulting - faded beneath the haze of light cloud sprinkled over the Ereways, Robert turned back to his son, having utterly forgotten the question.
"Yes, yes, an absolutely torrid affair, I agree."
"... right." Frederick said, taking a moment to imagine himself facepalming. "What I said was, what do you know of Taured?"
Absolutely no words left Robert's mouth. The old man was never the best on geography.
"So you are flying halfway across the world based on an invitation to an event held in a country you know utterly nothing whatsoever about? It might have been an active warzone for all you knew, and I'd have followed you into the fucking battlefield!"
Robert smiled knowingly. "Stop exaggerating, boy."
"Esthursia's most prominent exaggerator just told me to stop exaggerating. Clearly I'm doing something wrong, eh?" Fred reached for his phone, and then remembered it would be on aeroplane mode. He'd never worked out why that one was so necessary, but equally the middle of the Consence Ocean was potentially not the best place for WiFi regardless. "Right, well... Taured is on the south coast of Gothis. It's a country, just about. Small, urban, rather wealthy actually. Imagine if someone shrank Weskerby in a washing machine and yanked out all the socialism and rain. The man who invited you is endlessly wealthy, with the high-end fashion company he owns."
"Sounds lovely."
"Said company is banned in Esthursia, so you may not have heard of them, dad."
Robert's eyebrows went up a second time. "Of course it bloody well is, this country."
Fred considered for a second. "Is there... anything you like about your own country that you are supposedly a royal of?"
"I quite like Cordane. Their history is... fascinating, proud, clean."
He did not just say that. Frederick went dead silent, eyes more open than the rumour about Frederick's parentage. And that's why you do not ask Dad open questions.
Fred opened a book - an Esthur through and through, so the book was thicker than your average tree trunk - and buried his head deep inside of it for the duration of the flight, noting that his father had dutifully nodded off.
Last edited:
Accompaniment: Shakin' All Over - The Guess Who
Disclaimer: Slightly jarring depictions of psychological torture.
Portstadt, Principality of Taured
Saint Clement Hospital
May 11th, 2024
5:03 PM
Faint shocks and screams were all Dr. Belov could hear as he slowly walked down the corridor, to the observation room. The basement of St. Clement's had been a drab and gloomy place, the walls had cracks in them with peeling yellow paint and an everpresent dimness which permeated the whole sublevel. And yet, there was a certain novelty to the space, in that the walls were so thick you could barely hear what happened on the other side of them. Then again, he wasn't particularly averse to the sounds, after all, it came with the territory of his work.
Arriving in the dimly lit observation room, the doctor knocked on the doorframe and greeted two men sitting at a table behind the clear side of one-way glass.
"How's it holding gents?" Dr. Belov said moving to the back of the room. "Any progress with the little miss in the other room."
He gestured towards the woman on the other side of the one-way glass, she was strapped tightly to what looked like an old-timey dentist's chair, her hands legs and head all restrained, with a long IV tube running from a drip into her veins alongside a heart monitor and several electroshock and EEG probes connected to her head. She had deep bags under her eyelids, and her eyes were almost completely glazed over as if she'd completely disassociated with reality.
"It's been going quite well Comrade, we've seemingly made quite the impact on her already if you couldn't tell." Said the first doctor, he was a younger man, in maybe his mid to late thirties.
"Has she been responding well to the driving process?" Belov picked up one of the notepads on the table and read its contents.
"Subject 27-W, when exposed to a combination of psychic driving, psychedelic stimulus and shock therapy, experiences moments of temporary mania, before prolonged periods of subdued trancelike behaviour. Word association testing, to be commenced when deemed pliable"
The young doctor nodded and gestured to him to look at the woman. "We think the driving has set in quite nicely, priming her for trigger word association and such, but we're still walking a fine line here as there seems to still be certain moments within the therapies when she becomes unduly volatile."
"Will that pose an issue?" Belov asked, putting the notepad back down on the table.
"It shouldn't, we think if we can properly regulate the dosage for the psychedelic, we'll be able to properly transition her into those trance states without the intermittent moments of volatility. And once we're done with that we'll be able to get started on the trigger words. I mean just, watch this." He pulled forward a small control panel, and after adjusting a few knobs pressed a large yellow button labelled "Administer".
"Once we administer the smaller dose," He said pointing at the panel. "then, factor in the driving protocol." The other doctor beside him pressed a button turning on the testing chamber's loudspeaker, blasting all kinds of repetitive sounds and commands.
The woman in turn, her eyes dilate and unglaze as she suddenly becomes extremely aware of her surroundings, in seconds she begins to scream, beg and forcefully pull against her restraints with no results. But after the introduction of the shock probes, Belov could slowly see her demeanour relax and reassume the docile and trancelike state she had before, it took about thirty seconds.
"Before this dose, it took around three minutes for her to fully submit and enter docility and before that, it took about thirty." He was beaming.
"You think that'd work on my girlfriend." The other doctor said gesturing to the woman and giving the younger man a little push.
The younger man glowered at him annoyed by the crass distraction from his "achievement".
"As if any woman would let you get within twenty meters."
"Fuck offff!" He laughed a deep belly laugh, hitting the table. "The ladies love me, look." He said, pulling a small PA microphone over to himself, and holding down the button to talk.
His voice echoed in the experiment chamber, "Don't the ladies love me, Mrs, Twenty-Seven?"
There was no response, she remained still, her eyes dead and unfazed by the question.
"I'd say that it's pretty telling when even someone whose brain is mush, knows you get zero bitches." The young doctor quipped, making his colleague once again slap the table and laugh.
Belov shook his head, chuckling to himself. "You two are ridiculous, but I'm going to head out for the day, keep up the good work and let me know when you start on those trigger words."
"Of course, Comrade." The young man replied.
Belov speedily made his exit from the observation room and whistled as he made his way upstairs to the upstairs section of the hospital, stopping briefly in his office to talk to his secretary Roseline, who when he arrived was sitting behind her desk filing out some miscellaneous forms. Noticing his entrance she smiled at him and greeted him.
"Good evening, Doctor Geiser. How're you?"
"I'm alright Rose, could you possibly let Dr. Boch know that I'm heading out to Arnold Großjager's for his birthday dinner? I want him to cover my appointments for the next three hours or so." He said in fluent, accentless Aleman, taking off his lab coat and placing it on his coat rack, exchanging it for a grey suit.
"Of course Doctor, I'll make sure he's aware. Oh, do you need a gift?" She asked as she typed away at her desk.
"No no, I have something in my car for him. But, thanks for checking, in case I did forget." He smiled, she had been picking up quickly on his habits, a good trait for a secretary. Not exactly the most ideal one for him, but
"I'll see you tomorrow then Doctor!" Rose waved a quick goodbye.
"See you!" Belov replied, making his way to the hospital lobby, then to the parking lot where he took a moment to check his surroundings as he always did for any tails. After that was done, he remotely started his car from a distance and approached it, then carefully looked into the backseat window of his car before opening the front driverside door, and then after checking for anything out of the ordinary, he got into his old Værkringe with haste and drove off to join the party.
Disclaimer: Slightly jarring depictions of psychological torture.
Portstadt, Principality of Taured
Saint Clement Hospital
May 11th, 2024
5:03 PM
Faint shocks and screams were all Dr. Belov could hear as he slowly walked down the corridor, to the observation room. The basement of St. Clement's had been a drab and gloomy place, the walls had cracks in them with peeling yellow paint and an everpresent dimness which permeated the whole sublevel. And yet, there was a certain novelty to the space, in that the walls were so thick you could barely hear what happened on the other side of them. Then again, he wasn't particularly averse to the sounds, after all, it came with the territory of his work.
Arriving in the dimly lit observation room, the doctor knocked on the doorframe and greeted two men sitting at a table behind the clear side of one-way glass.
"How's it holding gents?" Dr. Belov said moving to the back of the room. "Any progress with the little miss in the other room."
He gestured towards the woman on the other side of the one-way glass, she was strapped tightly to what looked like an old-timey dentist's chair, her hands legs and head all restrained, with a long IV tube running from a drip into her veins alongside a heart monitor and several electroshock and EEG probes connected to her head. She had deep bags under her eyelids, and her eyes were almost completely glazed over as if she'd completely disassociated with reality.
"It's been going quite well Comrade, we've seemingly made quite the impact on her already if you couldn't tell." Said the first doctor, he was a younger man, in maybe his mid to late thirties.
"Has she been responding well to the driving process?" Belov picked up one of the notepads on the table and read its contents.
"Subject 27-W, when exposed to a combination of psychic driving, psychedelic stimulus and shock therapy, experiences moments of temporary mania, before prolonged periods of subdued trancelike behaviour. Word association testing, to be commenced when deemed pliable"
The young doctor nodded and gestured to him to look at the woman. "We think the driving has set in quite nicely, priming her for trigger word association and such, but we're still walking a fine line here as there seems to still be certain moments within the therapies when she becomes unduly volatile."
"Will that pose an issue?" Belov asked, putting the notepad back down on the table.
"It shouldn't, we think if we can properly regulate the dosage for the psychedelic, we'll be able to properly transition her into those trance states without the intermittent moments of volatility. And once we're done with that we'll be able to get started on the trigger words. I mean just, watch this." He pulled forward a small control panel, and after adjusting a few knobs pressed a large yellow button labelled "Administer".
"Once we administer the smaller dose," He said pointing at the panel. "then, factor in the driving protocol." The other doctor beside him pressed a button turning on the testing chamber's loudspeaker, blasting all kinds of repetitive sounds and commands.
The woman in turn, her eyes dilate and unglaze as she suddenly becomes extremely aware of her surroundings, in seconds she begins to scream, beg and forcefully pull against her restraints with no results. But after the introduction of the shock probes, Belov could slowly see her demeanour relax and reassume the docile and trancelike state she had before, it took about thirty seconds.
"Before this dose, it took around three minutes for her to fully submit and enter docility and before that, it took about thirty." He was beaming.
"You think that'd work on my girlfriend." The other doctor said gesturing to the woman and giving the younger man a little push.
The younger man glowered at him annoyed by the crass distraction from his "achievement".
"As if any woman would let you get within twenty meters."
"Fuck offff!" He laughed a deep belly laugh, hitting the table. "The ladies love me, look." He said, pulling a small PA microphone over to himself, and holding down the button to talk.
His voice echoed in the experiment chamber, "Don't the ladies love me, Mrs, Twenty-Seven?"
There was no response, she remained still, her eyes dead and unfazed by the question.
"I'd say that it's pretty telling when even someone whose brain is mush, knows you get zero bitches." The young doctor quipped, making his colleague once again slap the table and laugh.
Belov shook his head, chuckling to himself. "You two are ridiculous, but I'm going to head out for the day, keep up the good work and let me know when you start on those trigger words."
"Of course, Comrade." The young man replied.
Belov speedily made his exit from the observation room and whistled as he made his way upstairs to the upstairs section of the hospital, stopping briefly in his office to talk to his secretary Roseline, who when he arrived was sitting behind her desk filing out some miscellaneous forms. Noticing his entrance she smiled at him and greeted him.
"Good evening, Doctor Geiser. How're you?"
"I'm alright Rose, could you possibly let Dr. Boch know that I'm heading out to Arnold Großjager's for his birthday dinner? I want him to cover my appointments for the next three hours or so." He said in fluent, accentless Aleman, taking off his lab coat and placing it on his coat rack, exchanging it for a grey suit.
"Of course Doctor, I'll make sure he's aware. Oh, do you need a gift?" She asked as she typed away at her desk.
"No no, I have something in my car for him. But, thanks for checking, in case I did forget." He smiled, she had been picking up quickly on his habits, a good trait for a secretary. Not exactly the most ideal one for him, but
"I'll see you tomorrow then Doctor!" Rose waved a quick goodbye.
"See you!" Belov replied, making his way to the hospital lobby, then to the parking lot where he took a moment to check his surroundings as he always did for any tails. After that was done, he remotely started his car from a distance and approached it, then carefully looked into the backseat window of his car before opening the front driverside door, and then after checking for anything out of the ordinary, he got into his old Værkringe with haste and drove off to join the party.