Justinian the Mighty

I've been meaning to ask you how those came into your posession? Since they're administered from Arkhangelsk they should be controlled by Slavorussia.

As I recall Artemis Global Services was one of the forces involved in the invasion of Slavorussia. Paid by Nordland, working side by side with Nordic soldiers during one of their last unjust wars. We will be monitoring this group’s activities in Europe very closely, and we hope you choose better friends this time around.

ooc: Lol thank you, Lynneth.

You failed to attend any negotiations, so we decided to take action. Additionally it's unlikely that you've built up the infrastructure very much in 2-3 months the territory has been in your possession, but the industry will be privatized, like it was before. ooc: I can't do maps especially without a blank map to edit, then copy and paste.

We're not taking any action apart from annexing southwestern Russia, until we've confirmed the CSSR has descended into anarchy. We've received garbled transmissions from the CSSR recently so we just think they're having communication problems, but if we're wrong we should prepare to keep the area stable. ooc: I've pm'ed Triyun a few times and he's responded back. I'm just wanted there to be joint operations between European countries if Triyun doesn’t post in the next few days and gets purged. We are handling the situation to the best of our ability. Despite the events of the past out actions are not malicious in intent. It would be best to let Europe handle this issue it could really be a chance for CEU and non-CEU nations to cooperate.

Firestorm you make up some characters to rp in Slavorussia, as long as it's not that damn goat! It would be fun to have some unpredictability in my country. I was one of Nordland'ss first antagonist, mainly because our territorial ambitions conflicted. I started the club, and everyone else are just posers, lol. I was kind of allied to the UFE, it was an alliance of conveinience, but your point isn't very strong. I wouldn't say I'm holding a grudge. I haven't said anything ic or ooc about Nordland since the end of the war. I don't know why you would even say something like that. Should I be offended right now?

Premier Medvedev’s statement to the press: The CSSR has been distant lately, possibly the result of communication problems. If the country really has collapsed or is near collapse we’re ready to send peacekeeping troops to the Ukraine and Moldova regions with the help of the CSSR’s neighbors.

In accordance with the CSSR’s surrender terms set by Slavorussia, a proxy member of the Coalition against Nordland, Slavorussia will be reoccupying any and all territory the CSSR took when it waged it’s unjust war against Slavorussia. The government maintains it’s position that the CSSR has no right culturally or legally to control any part of Slavorussia any more. The Communist regime put in place by the CSSR and the Chairman Yuri, will be abolished. The local Soviets are hereby dissolved in the name of the Imperial Family. All provincial governors and members of parliament will be fully reinstated, until midterm elections next year. All private assets, businesses, and noble titles confiscated by the CSSR will be returned to their respective owners. Since this action has been taken without consulting the CSSR, mainly because the CSSR has failed to send a diplomat to Moscow to discuss surrender, Slavorussia is granting a 48 hour grace period before troop deployments begin. If the CSSR has trouble withdrawing from it’s occupation zone, they may request more time or assistance from Slavorussia or any other European neighbor. If you have any questions please address them to the Offic of the Prime Minister.

We are very glad to have planted the seeds of friendship with the Hanseatic Commonwealth, and that we finally have a solid treaty between our two countries. Signed for the Empire of Slavorussia, Dowager Regent Maria Romanov Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev

Fantasy RP (IC)....

In the car ride Justinian cant help but think that this whole situation seems very odd. If these guys are supposed to be “good guys” then why are they stealing from other people and hiding from anyone who could potentially recognize them? It seems very odd that they cant give him any solid details about his life before he hit his head, or connect one foggy memory to another. It all seems very shady to him especially the name of the organization he’s supposedly a part of. “ “The Dark Hand, that doesn’t sound like a organization dedicated to peace and liberty. It sounds more like a dangerous cult of devil worshipers.” He thinks to himself. “Who is this General Zorin,” he continues thinking, “and what is it about him that just doesn’t seem right?” General Zorin does look kind of menacing, like the bad guys from spy movies or superhero villains. He’s not physically imposing. Not very tall or very muscular, slightly more than an average man. He’s bald but he has a goatee, a fairly common style these days. What really stands out though is his eyes. When he looks at you it almost feels like his dark eyes are looking into your soul, and somehow corrupting it. He also has two scars one on the side of his face and the other on his neck. Not very nice places to get cut. Then there’s by contrast the blonde guy. Regular ladies man type. Women must love his long blonde hair and blue, and his accent must make them swoon. “I‘d love to just kick his $@! out of this truck and watch him roll into a ditch.” he chuckles out loud after imagining that scene. While Justinian thinks his mind wanders from one topic to another. He might not remember who he is exactly, but this Dark Hand business doesn’t seem like something he’d be a part of. He tries to think of his family, and remember any memories of the time he spent with them. All he can remember though is his mother’s hair and how it smelled like vanilla all the time. That tiny detail leads him to so many more memories though. Like when he found out about his grandmother’s death, or the first time his heart was broken. Sad memories, but memories he was glad to remember. Sad memories are better than no memories at all.

Premier Medvedev and his wife Svetlana. It’s the first time a Slavorussian Premier had been west of Minsk in years. He looks around at the other guests and says sarcastically to his wife “If no one gets shot this will be better than the galas thrown in Moscow.” Referring of course to the late Tsar’s several failed international parties.

ooc: Thanks ic:Justinian looks at the general with confusion, then looks down at himself. His hands and legs are still tied and nobody seems to care. “If I’m your apprentice…” “Protégé! Apprentice sounds so, old world. It makes me feel like some old peasant passing on my meager trade to another peasant. I think protégé sounds better” General Zorin interrupts. “Yeah, protégé, whatever. If I’m your protégé then why the hell do you have me tied up?” The general chuckles and takes out his combat knife “My boy do you think I would lie to you? We just rescued you from some very dangerous men. They could have killed you, but thank god they didn’t. Let’s get you out of those constraints.” The general starts to cut the ropes that are tied around Justinian’s hands and feet. Suddenly in the distance the sounds of war begin again. First one explosion, then short bursts of automatic gunfire. The sounds steadily get louder and louder. “Well gentlemen that‘s our signal, time to get the hell out of here.” The general shouts after finally cutting through all the ropes. The soldiers quickly change into some civilian clothes they found in the house. For most the clothes were either too big or too small, but it was better than being in Slavorussian uniforms, maybe not as comfortable, but at least they wouldn’t be shot at as much. They take pillow covers and bed sheets to carry food, bottled water, medical supplies and other necessities with them. Justinian, who can hardly walk, has to be helped by the general and his blonde haired companion. All the men dash out through the fields and into nearby woods for cover. It isn’t long before they come to a neighboring farm house with an abandoned pickup truck sitting in the driveway. The old pickup looks like it’s seen better days, but they’re able to hotwire it and get it moving. It’s a snug fit but all the men should fit in the truck, either in the cab or in the back. “Where are we going now sir?” asks the blonde man as they drive off down the road, to which the general only replies “Moscow.”

Could someone, preferably a founding member, address our concerns about the formation of this bloc, and why there was little or no discussion with other European nations besides the three founding members?

“What the… where am I? W-why am I tied up?” mumbles Justinian while he slowly regains consciousness. Still a little dizzy and nauseated, he tries to sit upright and try to recognize his surroundings. His head is throbbing and he feels like someone went 12 rounds with his abdomen. To make things worse the room has a musty smell to it. In one corner of the room there’s a large watermark stained onto the ceiling, and the tacky wallpaper, some disgusting orange floral design from the 60’s, only make him feel more sick. Just looking at the pattern makes the room start spinning. The longer he looks at it, the faster the room spins and the more nauseous he becomes, before he finally throws up and passes out. Moments later Justinian wakes up again, everything is blurry and unrecognizable. He sees a bunch of people standing over him, but he can’t tell who. He squints hoping his eyes will adjust so he’ll be able to recognize their faces. One of the men help sit him up and get reoriented. He holds up his index and middle fingers and asks, “How many fingers and I holding up?” “I don’t know, 30, 35...” Justinian replies sarcastically “why am I tied up, and who are you people?” The soldiers look at each other confused. The man in a general’s uniform with general’s bars chuckles then laughs at him. “stop playing games, you know who we are.” “No, no I don’t. I have no idea who you are, or anyone else in this room for that matter. Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?” replies angrily. The blonde soldier takes the general into the next room and closes the door. “Sir, hear me out. He‘s suffered severe head trauma, we all saw him, he hit his head pretty hard. He really might not remember what‘s happened last night.” “Are you telling me he‘s like the cat from that cartoon who got hit on his head and forgot everything and thought he and the mouse were friends?” The general chuckles for a moment then frowns “But when he got hit on the head again he remembered everything.” “Well, it doesn‘t really work like that. Another hit on the head will… well it’ll probably kill him.” The general smirks. Already he’s formulated another of his “genius” plans. “Fallow me, I have an idea.” The general walks back into the room his plan still brewing in his mind. “My boy, you‘re saying you really have no idea who we are or what‘s happened in the last few hours?” “No dammit! I told you that already!” Justinian snaps at him. “And do you know who you are, or anything about your past. Can you think of your mother or father. Do you have any brothers or sisters… or a dog? Is there anything you can remember?” “Well, I remember my name is Jason, or something like that, and my mother, I can’t think of her face but I remember her hair always smelled like vanilla.” The general laughs, it’s almost too good to be true. The tsar, his mortal enemy has amnesia, his mind is a formless hunk of clay just waiting to be molded. “My boy, I am Gregory Zorin, I‘m the leader of a powerful organization dedicated to freeing the minds and souls of the people… and you are my protégé.”

Procinctia-Slavorussian Alliance Preamble Procinctia and Slavorussia, two countries who wish to make official their old and long lasting friendship and mutual cooperation in international affairs, hereby agree to this pact. Article I: Non Aggression Both Procinctia and Slavorussia agree not to initiate any form of hostile actions against the other, and shall keep an open line of communications between both governments. Article II: Mutual Defense Both nations agree to aid and defend one another in times of war. If one nation becomes the victim of an outside aggressor the other is obligated, by this pact, to aid with political, monetary and military resources. Article III: Optional Aggression If one signatory engages in any aggressive action the other is not obligated to assist, but are encouraged to if necessary. Article IV: Intelligence Sharing If either signatory of this pact receives sensitive information concerning the safety and security of the other they are required to share it and when applicable the source of said information. Article V: Withdrawal Either signatory may withdraw from this pact at any time, but they are required to notify the other signatory forty-eight (48) hours prior. Signed for Procinctia, Generalissimo, Generalissimo of Procinctia Liska Atka, Assistant Minister of Foreign Affairs Signed for the Empire of Slavorussia, Dowager Regent Maria Romanov Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev

The stench of war filled the air near a tiny farm house not far from St. Petersburg. The drifting smoke smog from the battlefield mixed with morning fog create an eerie early morning scene. The low rumbling of bombs and artillery shells exploding in the distance only adds to the spine-chilling environment in the countryside. A small detachment of Slavorussian soldiers of varying rank appear through the thick fog. They look battered and downright defeated. One of the soldiers is unconscious and can’t, knocked out, with a laceration on his head. Two of his seemingly concerned comrades carry him off to safety. Through the dense fog and old farm house appears to be materializing. The weary soldiers breathe a sigh of relief. Finally they can rest, hopefully find some civilian clothes and get to safety. At this point going AWOL isn’t a danger for them. Their leaders seem to have already forgotten about them, less than 24 hours ago Premier Belyakov surrendered the unconditionally to the NC forces. All they want to do is get as far away as possible and avoid being sent to a POW camp. The hungry, tired men waste no time asking the house’s occupants for permission to enter, instead they break the lock on the side door and make themselves comfortable. “I didn’t think we were gonna make it out of there.” whispers one of the soldiers as he enters the house. His comrades fan out throughout the two levels of the house inspecting room after room. Fortunately for them the house’s occupants had already left when the invasion began, so the house was theirs for as long as they needed it. Chances are whoever lived here won’t be back long after the fighting is over. The starving men raid the kitchen and pantry for food. They haven’t eaten in days, since supply lines had been cut by cruise missiles, and food on the field disappeared rather quickly. They lay the wounded soldier on the sofa in the family room and turn on the television. All over all the news channels is the explosion at the Kremlin and Parliament almost simultaneously. “Tragedy in Moscow. High ranking Slavorussian officials have been killed, the Kremlin and Parliament are under attack by, as of yet, still unknown attackers. St. Petersburg falls to the invaders, and the Tsar is missing. Could this be the end?” remarks a news reporter on the television, while scenes of horrified Muscovites and retreating soldiers flash on the screen. “Our plan worked very well. I honestly can’t believe how well everything came together. I am truly a genius” chuckles the man in a general‘s uniform as he stands in front of a mirror and fixes his hair. “The Dark Hand has achieved its greatest victory today gentlemen, we brought Slavorussia to its knees and watched it crumble at the hands of Nordland.” “Yeah, but… what do we do with him?” says a blond haired soldier while pointing to the man laying on the couch. “We need him, we‘re still not out of the woods. If we‘re captured by Nordic of Slavorussian soldiers we might be able to trade him for our freedom. After all securing the Tsar of Slavorussia is more important than capturing a few soldiers or terrorists right? Treat his head wound, then tie his hands and feet so he can’t get away. Call me when he wakes up.” “Yes sir.” ooc: This is a continuation of “The Last Tsar of Slavorussia” It takes place almost immediately after the end of that thread and continues to the present, by my rp timescale that’s about 2 and a half months.

ooc: You do realize that the oil dependant nations are going to come down on you. I have no problem with deploying troops to your country and occupying any or all of it.

Nordic forces in Africa, how interesting. True, he's done it before.

To be honest, we are not amused that decisions regarding Europe and European people were made without representing a wide variety of European nations, including ourselves. We’re not starting off on a good note when you make your neighbors feel alienated like this.

I would prefer it if my territory was labeled "The Slavorussian Empire" like it was before.

At a Slavorussian weapons storage facility in northern Komi a well dressed businessman and his female assistant walk onto the loading bay where the rugged looking dock boss is waiting, The assistant hands the rugged man a note which he quickly reads then shoves into his pocket. “hmm… 500 liters? Of course I realize it‘s pointless to ask, but what the hell would anyone need 500 liters of nerve agent for?” he whispers. “Alex, you know our clients enjoy a high level of discretion with us. That‘s what keeps them coming back. It would be bad for business if I told you what it‘s for.” the business man smiles. Alex groans as he pulls a flask out of his pocket and takes a drink. “Jesus, that‘s a lot though, I don’t even think we have that much here. Besides how do I know I can trust you DH guys anymore? I mean you don’t seem to be very effective, since I’m back on the Slavorussian payroll.” “A minor inconvenience. We have a new recruit ready to take care of business very soon. Anyway can you fill our clients order? We can make it worth your effort.” “I‘m sorry. I don’t think we have even half that here, and I couldn‘t even steak out a tenth of what we have in stock here. It‘s just too big of a request for me.” The business man sighs, “You disappoint me Alex. You‘d better start showing results soon or we‘re going to have to terminate your contract… and maybe your family.“ Alex’s face turns ghostly white and he begins to get nervous. He takes another sip from his flask and puts it back in his pocket. He tries to say something but seem to form any words. The businessman just laughs for a minute while he watches this rugged looking man fall to peaces. “I‘m just kidding Alex, calm down. You take things too seriously. Just bring what you and your men can sneak away to my private jet. Please don’t be late.”

With all the new countries becoming independent in Europe, we’re going to have to expand embassy row. We’ve sent a nice fruit basked to President Raczyński’s residence with a card wishing him luck during his term.

Slavorussia's representative laughs. "Please sir, lets use the metric system after all we're not Americans" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a calculator. "I'm terrible with conversions. Lets see 3 miles is roughly 5 kilometers if we round up. I think that's good."

el oh el wut?