WA Delegate: The Confederate Empire of Sheng China (elected )
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Regional Power: Moderate
Today's World Census Report
The Largest Basket Weaving Sector in Asiana
World Census agents infiltrated a variety of out-of-the-way towns and festivals in order to determine which nations have the most developed Basket Weaving industries.
As a region, Asiana is ranked 7,335th in the world for Largest Basket Weaving Sector.
|1.||The United Empire of Argent||Father Knows Best State Suspiciously Conservative Democracy||“Argentia est imperare orbi universo”|
|2.||The Most Serene Imperial State of Yaosai City||Father Knows Best State Suspiciously Conservative Democracy||“Dakiro Shall Survive!”|
|3.||The Confederate Empire of Sheng China||Mother Knows Best State Suspiciously Conservative Democracy||“大皇后万岁，大帝国万岁”|
|4.||The Conglomerate of The Phantom Syndicate||Father Knows Best State Suspiciously Conservative Democracy||“The world must burn for it to be born anew.”|
|5.||The Empire of Sheng||Iron Fist Consumerists Imperialist Pig Dog Oppressors||“大皇后万岁，大帝国万岁”|
|6.||The Protectorate State of Jin Sheng||Father Knows Best State Suspiciously Conservative Democracy||“New generation can put right the mistakes of the old.”|
|7.||The Confederate Principalities of Turokhan||Iron Fist Consumerists Imperialist Pig Dog Oppressors||“Glory to Turokhan! Glory to the heroes!”|
|8.||The Khanate of Tam Amisgal||Corrupt Dictatorship Well-Meaning Dictatorship||“We bring the Winter Flame.”|
|9.||The Republic of Theodossia||New York Times Democracy Corporate-Dominated Sham Democracy||“We Will Endure”|
|10.||The Republic of Roman Hibernia||Left-Leaning College State Paradise||“Aequitas, Clementia, Pietas.”|
- : The Holy Democracy of The Universe World of the region The Great Universe cancelled the closure of its embassy in Asiana.
- : The Republic of Crawdad Republic of the region The Great Universe ordered the closure of its embassy in Asiana.
- : The first american union ceased to exist.
- : The Dominion of Tsaire Khanate arrived from The West Pacific.
- : The Empire of Khwhp of the region Lardyland cancelled the closure of its embassy in Asiana.
- : The Kingdom of Bobberino113 of the region Lardyland ordered the closure of its embassy in Asiana.
- : Embassy cancelled between Free coalition of governments and Asiana.
- : Asiana crier ceased to exist.
- : The Community of Rinnegan Syndicate arrived from Osiris.
- : The Community of Rinnegan Syndicate ceased to exist.
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- Card Raiding in Rejected Times
- Read the diplomatic Cable
- The Loranian Times Issue 2 reveals NS's new law firm
- Pecking order revealed in Loranian Times Issue 1
- UP Cup in the UPBC chronicle
- Koem Kab's defeat was in the cards. Card News Edition 5
- Market crashes in Card News Edition 4
- TEP & XKI on the pull in Card News Edition 3
- War ongoing in New World Union Chronicle vol 2
- A laughing stock is revealed in the New World Union Chronicle vol 1
- You see U.C.E.O.T.W. Times Edition 8
- Weekend edition of NS Today - https://nationstates.news/weekend-edition-june-28-2020/3060/
- Get your Daily Line and place a sports bet
When Batzorig and Victor had walked through the 'Polarian Quarter' Batzorig got the instant feeling she was going to like these people. From the evidence they left around they looked like one hell of a bunch of party animals. This made her smile with glee, baring her sharpened canines. Batzorig had limited knowledge of the Satanic religion and even less on the American nation's culture, but they seemed to be proud of it from the pentagrams all about them.
Inside and finally getting a look at the Major General, he reminded Batzorig of a pent up animal; ready to strike. Itching for a fight. Again, something that Batty was coming to like about these guys.
Understanding Argentian Latin, Batzorig understood Victor well enough when he introduced her to the Major General. Batty turns to the Major General, slams her fists together and bows her head. Speaking in Argentian, one of the several languages she knows, Batzorig greets the Polarian, "Well met, Major General."
"I'm the bringer of the good news." Saying as she lifts her head and cracks the knuckles in her hand. "I flew my arse off to bring the good news that the Turoks kicked the traitorous scums arses at Sochi. Even took a good number of em captive."
Batzorig chuckled as she put a hand on her hip and another on her chest to strike a boisterous pose, "Course they couldn't of done it without yours truly!" She joked facetiously. Dropping the pose but maintaining her cocky smile she continues, "In all seriousness though, they K.O.'ed Tsaire forces for the area. Now they're marching up the coast to take advantage of the sitch, but they're running on fumes and if they meet anything stronger than a gust of wind they'll be knocked on their own arses."
The Major General had a high smile on his face as he seemed to have trouble holding in his excitement on his face for marching orders from Batzorig. The energy was a mixture of a love for combat and being honoured to act as representative from Polaris to such a high figure of another nation, and one that was far from a pencil pusher at that. He gave a brisk but certifiably deep bow as his words came very soon after such, pragmatic as ever, "An honour, Great Khan of the Steppe and leader of Tam Amisgal, how can I be of service?" his words ever so slightly hissing at the end, not in anger from but from the mere speed of voice. His two staff members behind him bowed as well with their superior of course, seeming familiar with their CO's 'quirks'.
Major General Holt seemed like the type of person that wasn't able to stand still but he held his attention on each of Batzorig's words, listening to understand rather than just respond like a bureaucrat might. As soon as she was finished, the Major General smacked his hands together in a clap, his pragmatic tone coming out with a strong character to it, "I've heard enough myself and I am sure that my lovely staff can hear anymore that is needed for that whole... bureaucracy aspect, let's get to it!" making a pose like a adventurer ready to venture in the African veldt, wide stanced and hands open from the clap.
Continuing without delay, changing his stance with a gloved hand under his chin as he pondered but for a moment, "Mm... we have everything we need to obliterate just about anything in our way. After all, during our lovely yet.. extensive stay here in this lovely part of Argent, we had some exceptionally.... spicy munitions sent from the homeland to use....." as he spoke, all those in the room who solely spoke Argentian Latin would have no idea what 'spicy' meant as it was a solely Polarian term that barely had a direct translation and sounded rather off, though the Major General said it with such clarity and was standing at-ease afterwards as if he said nothing wrong.
"At any rate, I am confident that our forces can pick up where you left off, though it certainly is some shoes to fill, lest you shall be present at the new front, which I am sure you would enjoy... we will be ready to move out in!-" Holt was about to say more before Chief Warrant Officer Whitehall put her hand on her commanding officer's shoulder and whispering something, before Holt let out a very soft, quiet yet just audible, "S*it" in the VERY quiet office before clearing his throat. "Our next FORMAL meeting with the Director and Argentian friends was scheduled for two days now.. and for their excellent work in on-base training.. we might have had light celebrations on the Morningstar deck last night as we had 'time'..." he cleared his throat again then spoke in a quiet tone, "We will endeavor to hand out Polarian-issue Bloody Caesars to remedy this logistical oversight..."
Letting the room remain quiet for a moment, he bit his lip before a small smile grew, commenting, "Totally worth it though..." and with the context in mind, the Argentian entourage might notice a empty red stained highball glass on the Major General's desk.
The more that Holt spoke the more that Batzorig was growing to like the man and his people, especially when he struck a pose of his own in excitement.
Batzorig grinned from ear to ear seeing the blood thirst in Major General when his marching orders were given. She felt the itch for a fight building up in her. The call for the battlefield boiling and roiling in her blood.
"As much as I'd like to be with y'all fightn the good fight, I'll be hittn Nursultan head on in the east." She says slamming her fists together again and grinding them together. "With that ugly bald bowling ball headed bastard distracted by me, y'all be movn up from behind and plunge the dagger into his back. When ya do that, I'll pounce and rip his throat out with my own teeth." Batty snarls baring her teeth like an animal ready to eat raw man flesh.
She let out a booming laugh with the mention of the Polarians party night and seeing the Major General's highball glass.
"Y'all are party animals! I knew i'd love you guys the moment I stepped into your quarter. Hit me up the next time y'all throw a rager! No party is complete without this animal of the streets and sheets!" Batzorig declares sticking her thumbs to her chest with a great big grin.
Dropping her thumbs with a hearty chuckle Batty continues, "But seriously, anybody got a drink on 'em? It's like a desert in my throat over here and I can't fly without a drink or 4 in me."
Victor too grinned with a crooked and wicked smile watching Holt and Batzorig converse. He loved watching a plan come together before his eyes. The combination of these two forces would make for an awesomely destructive juggernaut; especially with the 'spicy' Polarian munitions. A juggernaut that would fold up the Tsaire forces in no time at all. It also helped that he was quite fond of the wild antics of Batzorig and had come to very much enjoy the Polarians. He was looking forward to partaking in the next 'rager' with the party junkies before him.
The low rumble of Victor's chuckle emanates through the room at Batzorig's demand to be liquored up before takeoff Victor re-enters the conversation, "Should not be too hard to dig up a hard one or five for you, Batzorig." He says considering his personal stock of liquor in his office, the remains of the Polarian party, and the Major General's own highball. "I would never send you off without one. I'm rather confident the collective hangover from the decades would kill you." He snickered more looking over Batzorig and Holt, "I imagine the collective hangovers from all three of us would have the force to wipe out a few city blocks." Victor says addressing both Batzorig and Holt.
Victor pulls a flask from his inner coat pocket, "Let's get to pouring the hair of the dog down those boys throats." He raises the flask in a salute, "To victory." Victor sighs with his signature wicked smile as the liquor burns on its way down his throat before offering a nip to the other two.
With a mockingly over officious and serious tone, Victor addressed Holt directly, "Major General, your mission...should you choose to accept it and as soon as your soldiers are sober enough to stand on two feet and hold a weapon... is to rendezvous with the forces of Prince Sahjhan and Prince Tuzniq of Turokhan along with Ghazan of Tam Amisgal. There you will resupply them. After which you will then join them in liberating the northern coast of the Black Sea; all the way to the Taman Peninsula. In the Taman Peninsula you will engage the occupying forces and secure the bridge."
Palazzo Vecchio, Firenze. 11 AM.
The streets of Firenze were decorated and draped in il Tricolore's and colorful cockades, and music happily echoed in every parkway. Along main street, a joyous parade of military soldiers, all sharply dressed in clean parade uniforms march towards the Palazzo Vecchio. Outside this impressive government building, stood La Duce and Queen of Italia: Alexandria Acordolo, her sister Luisa, General Pisani, and the head of the Florentine Cooperation Party: Verecondo Carone.
The people were in exorbitant morale, all of these soldiers having just returned from the Florentine victory in North Africa. Unbeknownst to the people, what was supposed to be an quick war to bolster national prestige turned into a brutal two year stalemate of unfathomable bloodshed and challenge. From the outside, Florentinz ventures to annex the many warlords, broken states, and cities across Africa was, to be frank, embarrassing; After two years, with superior technology and numbers, the Fascist Kingdom was only able to achieve what could only be described as a "pyrrhic victory". As distasteful as this was, it clearly wouldn't taint the peoples admiration of La Duce and her regime. This was entirely due to the scheme of media control, which the Florentine Cooperation Party was behind, namely the head, Verecondo. The past two years had seen the slow and carefully planned removal and restriction of the private media sector to be almost non-existent, which was instead replaced by a plethora of puppet organizations controlled by various government offices. Control over what news and information that was coming back from the war had allowed public enthusiasm and support to remain high— and now that it was over with a "victory", public perception of the government had only gone up.
But not everyone felt the same. The exhausting effort that was hinged upon the soldiers of Florentinz during the war was so high, that even the highest commendable medal would not be enough to show appreciation for their actions. The needless sacrifice of thousands of Florentines at the hands of untrained government-appointed Officers was no more obvious to the soldiers and military itself, and hence, a silent distrust would come to form between Military High Command and the State.
Even as they stood together, upon the courtyard of the Palazzo Vecchio, General Pisani and the Queen could hardly muster as much of a glance towards eachother. It wasn't until several minutes later the General lets out a long sigh, tracing his eyes to look at her— though awkwardly, as Verecondo stood between them. He would remain quiet for a brief amount of time before speaking, "Does it seem like a bit much to have them trot such a long way in the heat? Surely the men want a rest after everything they've been through, La Duce." Alexandria remains looking out to the crowds with a smile, waving to them. It was her first public appearance in the past few months, and she wanted to make it count. Though, the quiet contemplation of the General's comments eventually cause her to turn her head to him, keeping a smile on only so that the cameras would not get the wrong idea, "The people wish to see their soldiers, General. Besides, they deserve commemoration!"
Pisani looks back out to the soldiers with yet another sigh. Though they smiled as they marched through the streets, he knew how they really felt. The horrors of Africa would never leave them the same, and they were just as angry as they were hurt. He then speaks once more, though more of a mutter, "Parading them through the streets in mid-July does not seem like such a prestigious commemoration." Alexandria bats her eyes a few times, now folding her hands together and breaking stance to fully turn to him. Today she was prettied up in a long white dress with a Tricolour Italian sash and a white sunhat. Her head tilts slightly, offering him a transparent and forged smile before pointing her gloved finger to the many medals and awards along his dress uniform, "You're a war hero now, no?"
"Gold and silver wont make me, or them forgive the hardships we were put through— simply for your desires of expansion."
Seemingly almost finally beginning to lose her temper, the Queen furrows her eyebrows some, "It is the -duty- of the soldiers to fight for the realm, General. Do not forget that. Now, please, I'd like to watch the celebrations."
Verecondo awkwardly fiddles his hands infront of himself as he finds himself trapped between this awkward encounter. "Perhaps a meeting between the Ministry of Defense and the State is due," he suggests in his chipper, old voice, "a chance to discuss proper settlement and reconciliation?"
"Yes."; "I'll consider it." both Pisani and Alexandria say at the same time, before looking at eachother, and then back to the parade.
Though, despite how they bickered or discussed, the distrust had already permanently settled over Pisani and the entirety of the Armed Forces. Considerable actions would need to be taken to make sure this would -never- happen again.
Palazzo Vecchio, Firenze. 4 PM.
After several hours of celebrations, the Queen would come to return to the interior of the Palace. Briefly, she removes her sunhat to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before fastening back upon her head. The Royal Guards of the Palace salute her as she passes: "La Duce!", before she happily dismisses them. The halls were dotted every so often with government officials, though it was mostly empty as the vast majority of them were outside. As Alexandria came down the large staircase and into the vestibule, she becomes shocked to see her much younger sister, Princess Luisa, speaking with an army Lieutenant. The Princess turns her head as she sees her sister staring rather confusedly at her— causing the Lieutenant to also look up.
"Luisa, what are you doing?"
"I'm just talking with this nice soldier, he's been to the war and back!"
The Queen raises a suspicious eyebrow, marching over and taking Luisa by the hand, dragging her off. "Ow—!" she whines, snatching her hand away after they had turned the corner into a private hallway. Luisa angrily looks up to her, rubbing her wrist sorely. "Why is it you won't let me talk to the army men? You never do!"
Alexandria sits down on a padded bench, folding her hands together and looking at Luisa. "The Army... Well, they have a certain way of operating. Besides, I don't need to socializing with older men, it comes off extremely strange."
"You used to be one of them, Alex," Luisa starts, sitting down next to her, "back after Mama and Papa—"
"That was a different time." the Queen promptly cuts her off. Giving her a stern look, "Please, just listen to me. Not as... a ruler, or Queen, or Duce. But as your sister, okay? At least if you want to speak with the soldiers, bring myself or Verecondo with you. Last thing we need is our nations little sunshine conscripted into the Armed Forces, yes?" she says genuinely with a smile, giving Luisa's cheek a little playful tap.
The Princess offers a simple smile and prompt nod to Alexandria before she is pulled off to socialize. Luisa remains seated on the bench in thought after she is gone, unable to help but ponder what the real reasons behind all of this was. Why were politics so confusing?
Zixin would like to be able to lie to himself, but the appearance of Jin-ho ran a chill down his spine and made his stomach churn. The fact that someone was able to so easily infiltrate his palace and hide within his inner most sanctum without any detection was frightening. The fact that Deraj had such agents at his disposal was terrifying.
The Prince looked over at Zhensu, who characteristically was rarely ever fazed enough by anything to show it. He found her eyes wide and her complexion paler than ever. If Zhensu was unnerved, Zixin was right to be scarred. The gravity of the situation he just found himself sapped all breath from his body in that moment.
Swallowing hard and taking in what breath he could, Zixin tried to compose himself as the Argentian agent came out of the shadows and prostrated to the Emperor. All Zixin could do at this point was take his beating from the Emperor. He dared not voice any opposition; especially with the Emperor's own man in the room.
Every word of the Emperor took another bite out of Zixin's pride. The young Prince had not been spoken to in this way since his father was taken from him so long ago. He had never been in such a position of powerlessness to defend himself since he was banished to Arabia 10 years ago.
Finally by the end when Deraj's haunting gaze fixated itself on Zixin's shrunken form, a form he had not even noticed he had reduced himself to, Zixin swallowed his pride drly. Submitting himself to the Argentian Emperor, Zixin brought himself down to his knees and bowed his head to the floor. With a deep breath Zixin declared, "I understand. I submit and obey your command."
The harsh circle of light in the Emperor's bionic eye softens to a gentle glow while a devilish smile stretches over his lips; pleased with Zixin's show of submission. Deraj steps away from the interactive digital tabletop display and towards the camera. He laces his fingers together and leans forward into the camera with a nearly sadistic smile.
"Very good." Deraj cheerily hums and continues with similar gleeful tone. "I will leave you to Jin-ho. He understands what I expect from you and him both." He stands straight, towering over the camera. "And will not fail me." The warmth in his voice suddenly evaporated.
However, as quickly as it had disappeared the warmth returned to Deraj's voice, "I expect to hear great things soon!" He smiles once more before the video abruptly cuts with a wave of his hand.
With Deraj's domineering presence gone with the click of the tv screen, the group is left in awkward silence. Letting out a sigh to break the quiet, Jin-ho rises to his feet. He pats his knee from kneeling on the floor and tugs on his coat to straighten it as he stands. He turns slowly and looks at his new charge. Letting out a short but very exasperated sigh as he sees the humbled princeling and considers the future of this baby-sitting job he's been assigned.
Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Jin-ho snaps his fingers at Zixin to rise to his feet. "Get up. We've got work to do." He dryly orders the Chinese prince as he starts to walk the room. "Just to catch you up to speed, I sent new orders out to the Viperia agents in country this morning. I expect to hear by the end of day that a tribal caravan has been massacred by a rival tribe. You will grant audience to the aggrieved tribe and offer them your support in the matter of bringing justice to the innocent by morning tomorrow."
As he walks the perimeter of the room Jin-ho looks over the ornate decorations with little interest and mild disdain. "The hostile tribe will be ordered here to make their excuses where which you will organize a truce to hostilities. They will be made to agree to said truce. They will be escorted from the city where they will be struck by a third-party tribe taking advantage of the situation. The attack will kill Chinese guards and civilians along with a large amount of the tribal diplomatic entourage but not the leaders who will be heroically defended by your soldiers." Finding a mirror in the room, Jin-ho looks at himself and runs his fingers through his messy styled hair.
Looking away from the mirror when he was happy with his appearance, Jin-ho made his way to the Prince's desk. Leaning himself against it and crossing his arms he further elaborates. "This act of aggression on your doorstep will force your hand in the matter to deal directly with the hostilities. The Governor General being distracted by greater issues abroad and stirrings of unrest near her administrative capital, which we will supply, will grant you clearance to move against near-do-wells with your own forces to ease her own burdens."
Jin-ho reaches into his breast pocket and retrieves a slender silver case. He opens the case to reveal black cigarettes with gold filters. As he takes one out and prepares to light it with a flip lighter he retrieves from his pocket, Jin-ho finally concludes, "You'll be doing her a favor. And she'll be opening the door to your legitimate movement of forces into the interior to secure the oil fields." He lights the cigarette that now sits between his lips. Taking a deep inhale through the cigarette, Jin-ho smiles pleasurably before releasing the smoke from his mouth and nose.
"Any questions, your highness?" He asks leisurely leaning against the desk and tapping his cigarette so that the ashes fall to the floor.
When the image of the Argentian Emperor finally disappeared, the weight over the room dramatically lifted. Zixin felt like he could breathe with ease again. He even noticed from the corner of his eye that the typically stalwart Zhensu relaxed her rigid statuesque form. Still reeling from verbal onslaught of the Emperor, Zixin tensed when Jin-ho rose from where he knelt.
Zixin was aghast when Jin-ho snapped his fingers at him to get him to stand. So much so it staggered the prince as he was attempting to stand to his feet. Never in his life did someone of common birth have the audacity to speak or act with such impertinence towards him. The prince bit his tongue and swallowed his pride, however, just as he had done with Deraj; for as long as the Argentian agent spoke at least.
As he listened to Jin-ho, Zixin had to admit to himself that what Jin-ho was laying out seemed to be an effective and sound plan. At the very least the air of confidence that the foreign agent expressed it with was convincing. Despite his good thoughts on the plan and his attempts to hold himself back, Zixin could only with stand so much abuse to his honor and sense of self-importance.
"So, am I to just sit here as you run my city, my forces, my personnel, and my life?! Am I but the puppet to some boot licking cur?" Zixin snapped as he angrily strode over to where Jin-ho leaned against the lavish hand carved desk and dropped ashes into the luxurious Persian rug. "I cannot and will not be disrespected like this. Not in my own house and not by the likes of you." He fumed angrily stabbing his finger at Jin-ho.
Jin-ho takes another drag from his cigarette as he listens to the tantrum spewing from the ungrateful prince's mouth. When the brat finished, Jin-ho let out the smoke from his lungs in a sigh right in Zixin's face. "You must be hard of hearing or slow to understand." His hand moves as fast as light, snatching the prince's finger and hand in his own hand. With a twist and a audible pop he forces Zixin to the floor on his knees in pain from a now dislocated pointer finger. Jin-ho crouches down to put his face in Zixin's, "So let me clarify it for you in a simple manner that you'll understand." He states in a soft growl right into the prince's ear while maintaining the painful pressure on Zixin's dislocated finger.
Jin-ho backs his face up just enough so that he can stare dead into Zixin's angry and pained eyes, "Yes, you are to sit here with my hand up your ass pulling your strings as the personal puppet to this cur. In fact, you are now the cur to this cur. My job is to discipline you into a proper and capable ally to the Emperor. As far as you should be concerned, I own you from this point on until the Emperor says otherwise or I am satisfied with you." He sternly declares.
Letting out a huffed sigh, Jin-ho relaxes his shoulders and softens the tone in his voice, "Dear prince, you must understand the gravity of the situation that you are in now." With just as quick a motion as it took to dislocate it, Jin-ho takes hold of the Prince's hand and makes a swift hard yank onto the finger. The pop that occurs tells them that the finger has realigned.
Looking over the injured digit Jin-ho continues to explain, "There is no room for protest or hurt pride. There is no going back. There is only doing as you are told, doing it right, and doing it without argument." Jin-ho's free hand rummages in another jacket pocket and pulls out medical tape. With a soft, but firm hold on the Prince's hand, Jin-ho starts to wrap the pointer and middle finger together for a buddy splint.
As he gently works on Zixin's hand, Jin-ho finishes with a markedly kinder tone than when he started. "Doing so will make things much easier. Results will come much faster. And you will be that much closer to what you desire." Jin-ho looks over his finished handy work and before releasing the hand back to Zixin.
Standing up, he offers his hand to help Zixin to his feet, "We are here to help you. Do not resist our help or you will get nothing, but pain and suffering. So swallow your pride and prejudice and just let us help you." He asks earnestly with his hand still outstretched.