First of June

[Proxy of Demescia]

Demescia presents the following roleplay: First of June​

(OOC: Anyone is allowed to participate. Just try to be realistic and I'm cool. Also sorry if this is a mediocre set up. I'm new at this "roleplaying" thing.)​

June 1st 2016
22:18:00 at the Combre Dome
It's 10 o'clock at night, and yet the ever hectic city of Combre, and its population of over two million Demesces, is still awake and active. The city's blood cells (its people) briskly tread the large sidewalks under the sights of sodium-vapor streetlights. Some of them are tourists that explore sights, such as the National Doughnut Mall, before the faintly starry, midnight blue sky turns to pitch black. Others are residents, either arriving home from working late hours or going to one of the artsy, neon light decorated restaurants for a bite to eat.

Meanwhile in the legislative hall, dubbed the Combre Dome because of its sizeable structure, politicians (including Keegan Seeds the Head of State) work late hours, politely bickering about issues. Today, they're discussing whether they should make trade agreements with Cronaal, a nation in anarchy at the moment. Inside, notable parliament member Dough Sliffi (yes, that's his real name) makes a proposal in the center of the room, surrounded by thousands of national legislators. He finishes his idea by saying this:

[bgcolor=#fff]"Is it ethical to give Cronaal's mafias drug-induced soda in return for martial arms? No, but it'll help this commonwealth a bunch. I mean, which would you rather have: criminals with weapons, or criminals with drugs? You decide."[/bgcolor]

When he finishes his proposal. about one fourth of the room applauds, almost three fourths of it cringe and rants sotto voce, the rest of the parliament members are too tired to give a shit about anything he just said at all. The parliament's moderator, with his hammer, receives the silence of the legislature after banging it.

"Who would like to express their opinion first?" he asks. Most of the parliament members in the room signal the moderators with a tap of a button. At an instant yellow neon lights light up at the desks. Then, the moderator presses a button as well, and a person to speak is chosen at random. Sorille Anjisson, a political rival of Sliffi of Qoi descent (a native ethnic group of Demescia), is selected and she immediately stands up, her bronzed skin and blue eyes as apparent as her makeup.

[bgcolor=#fff]"Dough,"[/bgcolor] she starts, [bgcolor=#fff]"Dough bloody Sliffi, out of all the outrageous you've came up with, this is the stupidest of all of them. Why, in any circumstance, would you give the Cronaal mafias DRUG-INDUCED SODA?!"[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]"We have to make the offer appealing. Why the fuck would they want cheese-sticks and baskets for weapons that can murder a regiment of troops in less than a minute? It's bizarre!"[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]Bizarre? BIZARRE?[/bgcolor] her voice is so loud that it wakes up some of the parliament members who slept in the comfortable fabric seating. The distant remark of [bgcolor=#fff]"Oh shit!"[/bgcolor] comes from the back of the room. The Qoi descendant slams her glasses on her desk and give Dough a cold, seemingly hypnotizing stare. Keegan Seeds and Nikolas Steward came prepared with their peanuts; this is going to be a show.

22:43:50 outside of the Combre Dome
The ruckus near the Dome died down a lot, surprisingly. Rostigue stands outside the legislative hall in uniform, with nothing more than a baton and a stun gun to thwart any possible perverts or hooligans. For now, he has to fend off the mosquitoes, who are pretty much the only threat to his safety.

He's not a man of politics but if he was, he'd march in to the CRM (Cylindrical Room of Matters) and demand that more funding went to Law Enforcement, because these days of nude, jolly, happy-go-lucky people walking up and down the streets and causing no harm aren't going to last forever. "This job is quite repetitive," he thinks to himself, "because there's no one to stop and everyone is just a perfectly fine individual. I can't wait to go home to my family at 12:00 PM; I hope Zystra is cooking a rewbisk."

A few minutes later, some gentlemen dressed in green hoodies and red balaclavas slow walk up to the hall from a nearby alley way, carrying scuffle-bags. He sees them, approaching him in a mysterious and suspicious way. Suspicious characters aren't allowed near the legislative hall, so he signals them to stop with a palm.[bgcolor=#fff]"Vi ne rajtas ?i tie!"[/bgcolor] he shouts, clutching his baton. They don't react, and keep moving towards the building. Now furious, the guard warns them again. [bgcolor=#fff]"Haltu!"[/bgcolor] This time, they then turn around and stare at the one holding them back verbally. Trying to calm down, he asks them simple question. [bgcolor=#fff]"?u vi parolas Esperanton?"[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]"Jes, iomete."[/bgcolor] At that moment, some of the men dart towards the Rostigue at full speed and in less than two seconds, he was on the concrete floor getting prodded by shivs. The bunch that were there to witness the horror ran away screaming, but before they could run far enough, all but two were shot to death.

"Go! Hurry!" The men rush inside the building, their pistols exposed.


22:47:40 inside of the Combre Dome
The yells and rants within the dome were too loud for the screams of horror to be heard. [bgcolor=#fff]What the fuck does "Qoi privilege" have to do with this?[/bgcolor] Sorille asks in a high-pitched rhetorical tone. She exhausted from discussing politics with the fool in the center of the room, but nevertheless still pissed as hell. [bgcolor=#fff]"Stop changing the topic! Cronaal doesn't even have good enough arms manufacturing."[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]"What about my point about weaponization? 32%, Sori! 32% according to the World Census! You're not very good at this, so let me give you a-"[/bgcolor] The notorious Dough Sliffi gets pierced in the head twice to everyone's surprise. The terrorists made their way to the CRM after minutes of navigating the place and shooting the interns who were unfortunate enough to work late at night. One of them shout [bgcolor=#fff]"We're that flower in the dark!"[/bgcolor] and begins the rampage. The moderator takes multiple shots to the forehead and so to lights on the ceiling. Then the bullets became widespread. Everyone scrambles and does anything possible to make outside alive (even jumping from the second to first story near the exit). Keegan Seeds, sweating more than usual, curses himself for proposing and executing the rule that no parliament member shall have a weapon within the CRM. He would use his shotgun to teach these men a lesson, but he kept it in his car. He and Nikolas, like the others, try to escape. The men follow them to the corridor, shooting three in the leg. Nikolas and Keegan are among the first to be near the exist, but a Molotov is triggered, killing a few parliament members and eventually burning a portion of the building.

Survivors made it outside, where sirens were sounding and citizens nearby looked in awe. From shock, Sorille passes out.

 

[Proxy of Demescia]

June 2nd 2016
13:23:01 at the Nikolas Residence
The all of the rooms of Nikolas Steward's humble cottage are dim, with nothing but the rays of the summer sun and the brilliant flashes of light from the television to glow within the house. Nikolas gazes through the window, his unibrow arched in displeasure, as he listens to the radio resounding from the the living room. What happened yesterday night has been relevant for more than a few hours. Usually, there'd be children and teenagers playing ball and riding bikes outside but today the outside is a cloudy, gray void.

The world is starting to realize that Demescia is a nation of push-overs without a substantial law enforcement, and that's a great threat considering how militant the world is nowadays. First, Domesua then who next? Francovanian patriots? The Rogue Nation of Nyghon? Maybe even the Crol anarchists might get into the already gore-filled mix. The possibilities are practically endless.

Perhaps the greatest loss of all was Dough Sliffi. He was one of the most vibrant characters in the Demescian parliament, and he was the first to be eliminated. He came to the political scene with a background of Asperger Syndrome, which he said "helped him in his career." Nowadays the parliament is too afraid for its life to meet again. The next meeting will be held next month, and until then little to none of the nation's troubles can be resolved in a truly democratic.

Mr. Seeds is Nikolas's closest friend and ally, so he knows for sure that he won't be able to make intelligent decisions on his own. Last time he did, the entire nation-state became a socialist paradise ran by A.I. economists, which was pretty ironic considering Keegan favored capitalism and encouraged its growth.

An important question in this situation: why Domesua? There was some strains on their alliance a few months back, but time healed most of the wounds. Domesua is currently a prime trade partner with the republic, since they bring in goods such as furniture, tourists, agriculture, retail, and much more. Meanwhile, Demescia gives it technology, education, cheese, baskets, sodas, and tourists. He guesses that they were just radicals who know nothing about politics. He hears a knock on his door; turns away from the window and pays attention to the door. After turning down the radio, he approaches the door and looks through the peephole.

[bgcolor=#fff]"Impromptu journalists,"[/bgcolor] he murmurs.

 

[bootsie]

June 2nd 2016
14:00:00 Combre Skyline

Sam Peterson ran as fast as he could atop of the roof of one of the capital city's tall buildings. His brown-haired bangs swung in his face as he prepared to leap forward toward the next one, as a patrol officer looked up, yelling something that was inaudible to Sam. He looked toward the next building and picked up speed. He was sure if the jump didn't kill him, the running would. Why did he let the other members of Calypso convince him to journey from the safety of Guslantis, for some person that Medina had never met?

He launched toward the other building, and like he anticipated, he barely made the jump, and found himself having to hold on to the side of the building. His body swung from side to side as he looked down the facade of the building. His watch began to ring, as the face of Ellis, the Calypso secretary appeared. "Sam, I bring an important announcement from the Crime Lord...," he began.

"Now, now is really not a good time...," grunted Sam, as he attempted to climb the building, the watching crowd beginning to scream, and the officer continuing to yell something or another at him. He pulled himself up, and then looked to the crowd below. "You'd think they'd have something better to do," he stated, and looked to Ellis. "Now what do you want?", he asked, walking to the opposing side of the roof.

"Medina believes there's some new clients to be gained here in Demescia, and she wants you to find any survivors of the attack--if there are any. Medina believes they could come in handy in the future, or possibly result in a profit gain for Calypso," stated Ellis. "Well if you two want them so much, why don't you come out here and do the dirty work yourselves?", asked Sam. "I can let Medina know that'd you'd like out of Calypso if you'd like. There are a bunch of jobs in Hogton for you, but none are very prestigious, or not demeaning of character," said Ellis, angry. "Fine, I'll find this person, but I better get paid double for this, damnit," said Sam. "We'll see," replied Ellis, turning off the watch remotely.

June 2nd 2016
14:10:35 Calypso Headquarters in Hogton, Guslantis

The brown-haired Ellis, still angry from his talk with Sam, stormed into Medina's office. "Well, I'm just loving these recruits you hired, I swear, can they do anything without asking a ton of questions or acting out?," he said to Medina, who was turned around in her chair, with the back facing him. "Which recruit would you be referring to this time?", she asked. "The one in Demescia. Sam Peterson," explained Ellis.

Even though her face was hidden, Ellis knew Medina was confused on what he was even talking about. She didn't like to involve herself with all the mundane details of assignments, and focused on running the organization. "Demescia? The one in deep turmoil?", she asked, trying to clarify the situation. "Yes ma'm," he stated. She began to laugh, throwing her hands up in the air. "Doesn't that sound all too familiar these days...sounds like Cronaal, and Guslantis, and now...Demescia. Oh, how great this is," she continued.

"What is your plan?", Ellis asked. "Well, they need our help of course, with either destabilizing or stabilizing the government, wouldn't they? And how that plays out...depends on who has the higher reward," Medina stated, beginning to laugh again.

 

[Xentherida]

The Grand Federation wholeheartedly condemns the atrocities in Combre. We offer our sincerest condolences to those affected by the attack on the Combre Dome, and we are willing to deploy peacekeepers in Demescia to calm tensions, along with four squads of the Section Delta of the Xentheridan Special Forces to quickly respond to any future terrorist attacks. With this, our terror alert level is to be raised from Moderate to Substantial, over heightened fears of a terrorist attack in retaliation for supporting Demescia.

 

[Proxy of Demescia]

June 2nd 2016
14:11:08; A generic alleyway in Combre.
Tesmick Tansol sluggishly wakes up from his uncomfortable sleep. The foul-smelling garbage bag was his pillow, the dark asphalt was his bed, and he used newspapers (copies of the Combre Chronicle) as blankets. "As unpleasant as this is," he thinks to himself, "I'd rather be here than pursued by police and the army." The criminals are hidden from the public by a thick wall of brown bricks.

He yawns and looks around. It looks like noon; the tourists are always up and about at noon.

[bgcolor=#fff]"Bonan Matenon."[/bgcolor] a deep, husky voice speaks out from the corner. It's his brother, Kcimset, whom agreed to come with him on his journey of destruction. Continuing what he said, Kcimset asks Tesmick [bgcolor=#fff]"Are you ready to get the hell out of here?"[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]"Nah,"[/bgcolor] he responds as he gets off the bulky trash bag. He staggers, still feeling unsettling pain from moving his limbs as a result of burns he got from escaping the Combre Dome Blaze. [bgcolor=#fff]"This place gives me nostalgia; reminds me of the days when the hellhole government didn't ruin this place. I'd even get some tea here but, you know..."[/bgcolor]
[bgcolor=#fff]
"So, what did Lavlar say was our next move?"[/bgcolor] Kcimset asks.
[bgcolor=#fff]"I don't remember. Something about burning down a forest, or interrupting some upcoming referendums. I don't really give a shit; as long as the job can be done, anything goes."[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]"I admire your philosophy."[/bgcolor] Feeling thirsty, he grabs a water bottle from his roomy pocket. Wait; there are no water bottles because he dropped it in the burning building. [bgcolor=#fff]"Damn it."[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]"What?"[/bgcolor]
[bgcolor=#fff]"I dropped those drinks when we were escaping from death."[/bgcolor]
[bgcolor=#fff]"For hydra sake, Kcimset! You had one job."[/bgcolor]

Kcimset feels a shock from hearing the word "hydra" coming out of his mouth. [bgcolor=#fff]I thought you were over Hydralism."[/bgcolor]
Tesmick sighs and says [bgcolor=#fff]"I still have tendencies."[/bgcolor]


14:14:14; The Vestano Spire
Six and half floors of stone, wood and glass, and twelve feets of pure steel, the Vestano Spire is another prominent government building in Combre. It serves as a center for the executive, a back up for the judicial branch, and the non-humble abode of the head of government.

Too distraught to handle issues, Keegan Seeds stares at the monitor of his computer. The existential crisis is kicking in; is anyone safe anymore? Maybe he should just resign, stab his eyes out, and wonder the countryside. The end of Demescia might be coming soon; the Demesces are (or were) so unexposed to national emergencies that now barely anyone knows how to handle them. This isn't a good time for national emergencies.

"Why would anyone attack Demescia?" Seeds thinks to himself. "I mean, we're one of the most calm and compassionate peoples in the North Pacific. Are people that sick of us?" A hard knock is placed on the door. They can't see him like this! It's a sign of weakness! Seeds shouts [bgcolor=#fff]"One second!"[/bgcolor] and quickly grabs a tissue to wipe his tears. After seeing that they're either gone or unnoticeable, he says [bgcolor=#fff]"Come in!"[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]"I see you got your door back,"[/bgcolor] says the 19 year old telegram courier as he slides a telegram on his desk.
[bgcolor=#fff]"I know; I'm paranoid."[/bgcolor]

He opens the envelope and reads the message:

"The Grand Federation wholeheartedly condemns the atrocities in Combre. We offer our sincerest condolences to those affected by the attack on the Combre Dome, and we are willing to deploy peacekeepers in Demescia to calm tensions, along with four squads of the Section Delta of the Xentheridan Special Forces to quickly respond to any future terrorist attacks. With this, our terror alert level is to be raised from Moderate to Substantial, over heightened fears of a terrorist attack in retaliation for supporting Demescia."

"Hmm. Peacekeepers," Keegan thinks to himself. It's an opportunity to preserve the Haven and reconstruct the underfunded law enforcement. Still, term 'peacekeeper' often comes with a negative connotation, like something the imperialistic United States of the America. Is the nation even democratic? What if it's a psychotic dictatorship trying to take control of Demescia and its good name? But, then again, what if it not? Research needs to be conducted before he can make a final decision. [bgcolor=#fff]"The public needs to vote on this,"[/bgcolor] Keegan Seeds says loud and clear.
[bgcolor=#fff]"I understand."[/bgcolor]
[bgcolor=#fff]"Tell my Communications Executives to issue an announcement for a referendum.[/bgcolor]
The messenger was about to face-palm. [bgcolor=#fff]"We don't even have a building host the event! The Combre Dome is abandoned, remember?[/bgcolor]
Keegan Seeds ignores the courier's disrespectful tone, and replies with [bgcolor=#fff]"We can host it here. I have a back-up room on the ground floor that we can use."[/bgcolor]
[bgcolor=#fff]"Oh, right. I forgot about that room."[/bgcolor] The messenger leaves, and Keegan Seeds thinks to himself.

"Maybe Dough Sliffi is right; maybe we should increase our military."


June 2nd 2016
14:12:08; Domsu Administrative Office, Wheatboy.
[bgcolor=#fff]"Damn it."[/bgcolor] Adum Sneiz says aloud to himself in his office. [bgcolor=#fff]"The recent attacks on Combre are going to ruin our economy, especially our tourism industry."[/bgcolor] The news has been spread throughout the continent. Domesua's reputation will be tarnished if not today, then tomorrow. All Mr. Sneiz is thinking about at the moment is exactly how to fix this.

"Those god damn patriots are too radical." He thinks to himself, stroking his goatee. "If they cause another havoc, I swear I will burn every last one's house down. That'll be a fair punishment for burning everyone else's."

 

[primebie1]

The Triple Federation is outraged at this attack on Demescia's government, as such we will be deploying a TNSW squad, callsign "Fall" to assist in the defence of important government officials, due to the sensitive nature of this operation, "Fall" has been granted Gamma-Class exoskeletal armour. We look forward to a return to peace in Demescia.

---

*Operation: Spider's Den*
*Vestano Spire, Combre*
*1700 Hours*

A man in almost pitch black armour was standing in the back of the Firehawk, he turned and began to address the rest of his team, "Fall! We are hear to help prevent a potential attack on The Vestano Spire, where Demescia's head of government, Keegan Seeds, is currently located. Demescian forces are hereby declared BLUEFOR, but be advised they may not recognise us, and some may be jumpy enough to shoot. Any questions?"
"SIR, NO SIR!"
"Right then! We are at our drop point, helmets on people!" with a single motion, he placed his helmet on his head, and activated it.
"Fall! Deploy! nulla est victoria!"

 

[Syrixia]

The Imperial Government of the Syrixian Empire is outraged at and unilaterally condemns the attacks in Combre. If the Demescian government wishes, Syrixia shall promptly send humanitarian aid and materials to help rebuild the destroyed portions of the Combre Dome.

 

[Proxy of Demescia]

June 2nd 2016
17:17:17; Vestaño District, Combre
The optimistic yet anxious denizens of the Vestaño District stroll on the peach-colored sidewalk among the area's neomodernism. Some of them skip nude and admiring the scene of the Steward Gardens, with its short hedges and sprawls of red poppies. Traffic is flowing, but heavy enough for the Doppler Effect to repeat itself every two seconds. What seems like a regular day quickly changes when the loud sound of a hovering aircraft, a jet, sounds above their heads. One looks up in interest, and the others follow. The flow in traffic comes to a complete halt as the jet brings more attention to itself.

Metallic figures of black jump from the aircraft and make their way to the ground with parachutes. Believing that it might be an invasion, most run into the nearest apartment, bar, or shop for safety. The others, however, still stare in interest, wondering what the cause of this is.
18:59:20; Outskirts of the City of Zodiac (Domsu-side)
The red-haired, hazel eyed, pale-skinned Tristan Godman leans behind the cashier register, waiting for his customers to leave so that he can relax downstairs. He owns a small Googie-styled business in the rural parts of the CoZ (City of Zodiac), which has been pretty successful since he started two years ago. Minutes pass and now only a couple remain, discussing their purchase of a novelty volatile-serpent themed clock costing 40 pence. They go back and forth until the husband says [bgcolor=#fff]"We'll check back tomorrow!"[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]"That's fine. I don't know if it'll still be for sale, though."[/bgcolor] As soon as they drive away in their sedan, Tristan retreats to his living quarters, not forgetting to water his grass. He slouches on the couch and turns the channel to Ru?a Domo (a Domsu-Demescian entertainment channel featuring various telenovellas). [bgcolor=#fff]"Ah, isn't this wonderful?"[/bgcolor] he asks the ball-gagged Demescian politician in a straitjacket known as Caesar McGee. He looks back at him with a worried look, as if to say something along the lines of "I'LL DO ANYTHING! JUST LET ME GO!"

Just as his favorite soap opera's second season is about to premiere, the phone rings and he can't help but to look at it; it could be something very important. It's just one of his intelligent agents, so reluctantly he answers the phone and sacrificing entertainment. [bgcolor=#fff]"This better be something important. I'm trying to watch something."[/bgcolor]

[bgcolor=#fff]"It is; trust me."[/bgcolor]
[bgcolor=#fff]"Well, what is it?"[/bgcolor]
The agents gazes out the window at the glorious metallic exosuits with Trinster flag decals painted on them. He sweats, questioning his role in this conspiracy and wanting to back out of it as soon as possible. Unfortunately, that won't be easy or possible in this environment, especially with- them.

He sighs and tells the truth. [bgcolor=#fff]"Security, man."[/bgcolor]
[bgcolor=#fff]"What?"[/bgcolor]
[bgcolor=#fff]"After what we did to the Combre Dome and at the polling convention, military has arrived to protect the city.[/bgcolor]
[bgcolor=#fff]"Damn it!"[/bgcolor] Tristan shouts. [bgcolor=#fff]"Ugh, it's a good thing I have operatives across the nation. Just lay low and tell the other guys to try to escape the city as quickly as possible; go to Moguel or somewhere else without authorities breathing down our necks!"[/bgcolor]

He hangs up, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Caesar on the other hand is cheering on the inside, victory screeching in his mind. That stops when Tristan noticing his cheerfulness. After taking a sip of his Violet (Demescian drug-induced soda), he gives his hostage a stern look of dissatisfaction.