Also you might wanna put a bunch of them in a hider or something. It's a huge wall of text to read
Conscripts
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An Atom Trying to Understand Itself
STATUS: Why am I bothering to update the status anyway? No one's gonna care 6 yrs ago
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Why am I bothering to update the status anyway? No one's gonna care
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7 yrs ago
"Remember to look at the stars not down at your feet." Inspired me ever since. Rest in peace Professor Hawking
7 yrs ago
I don't know why, but the boredom is killing me slowly
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Tentative CS. It might change/expand depending on the lore created
@Conscripts
Hm. Yeah, I'm liking the concept, but I can see why fleshing it out would be a challenge. I think your signature is relevant here - he needs to have some burning desire in life, I think, in order to be a more compelling character.
Oh! I just had an idea. What if he discovered a technologically advanced, ancient, organic battle-golem, and his life's work is to restore it to full power so he can marry it? It would give him a reason to learn both magic and technology, and love can be a powerful driver.
I've got a bunch of lore behind those things, too...
Oh that ones cool. I like the idea of being obsessed over this thing, but not gonna lie it sounds a bit creepy when put that way. Not to worry though, I do have similar backstory ideas to justify this obsession. I can go into PMs if you guys wanna know. Thanks though! Brainstorm I shall continue.
<Snipped quote by Conscripts>
I feel like Newt would be your characters A) Best Friend or B) Biggest Pain in the Ass, because your magical and he would constantly be "O great wizzy magiker, how cast boom magic?"
How about both? Being the only friend that he doesn't want.
Character-wise, I'm looking at an eccentric, maybe a little paranoid, but quite cocky and witty 'magical engineer'. Basically he incorporates magic into equipment and machineries, or the other way around, creating all sorts of weird but practical stuffs like magic sensors or magic-powered automations. Power-wise, he's nowhere near the magic power of the strongest witch/wizard/magician of the world, but his pragmatism can bridge that gap. I'm considering between him being a native or a computer-programmer isekaied, but just throwing it out there for now.
When I slept yesterday, it was page 3. When I woke up, it was page 7. The activity around here is insane.
In terms of lvl mechanics, I don't have any experience on that as well, since all my previous RP have all been narrative-driven, and if there's any 'leveling' in those RPs, shall we say, they're mostly like the Zelda-ish style you mentioned: as the characters go through trial and tribulation, they get experience and can do things with better efficiency. So I'd vote in favor of that.
In terms of lvl mechanics, I don't have any experience on that as well, since all my previous RP have all been narrative-driven, and if there's any 'leveling' in those RPs, shall we say, they're mostly like the Zelda-ish style you mentioned: as the characters go through trial and tribulation, they get experience and can do things with better efficiency. So I'd vote in favor of that.
Things are slowing down on my end, so I'm interested. Kinda leaning towards the intellectual type, probably a chemist or alchemist. I'll decide fully when there are full details of this RP
In
~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~
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3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
December 30th, Rear Trench
"Damn, looks like you all are well-prepared to make someone's ends as painful as they can be."
Michael said, trying to hide the distaste in his voice for such nonsense. He can probably put up with Victoria's somewhat aggressive hint of actually burning people alive, but not this Darcsen's lust for torturing. This was just beyond it for him, but then again, enjoying this wasn't a sign of a normal human being. Either she's just a complete psychopath or something contextual was missing here. But either way, bringing only a machine gun to a trench raid? First of all, it's a stealth mission. Second of all, it's heavy. Michael handled some of them before, he was no slouch when it comes to heavy-lifting, despite the looks. Third of all, if you ran out of your clip, you are just one lame duck sitting there to be shot or slashed. But oh well, she knew her purpose there. Let's just maybe hope that no one really crossed her path, one way or another.
But there are valid advices coming from all three, mostly to pack it light. That is indeed true. He would not certainly want his personal things be handed over to some Imperial troopers who probably would just toss them away once they fed him to the worms. At least maybe his side would have enough courtesy to send them back to his family. But it appeared that they were a lot lighter than he was.
"You people have pistols? Man, it must be so cool." Michael put away the hatchet, cleaned the carbine one last time before swinging it on his shoulders, then had his spade handle attached firmly onto the blade. "I'd just shove this down someone's throat instead." He said with a straight face as he span the spade around effortlessly a couple of times. If anyone met his gazes in response, he'd simply lift his eyebrows suggestively. He had no bayonets, no pistols, no fancy tools. He had a carbine but it was merely for ranged fights. Otherwise it's simply shovel. A hatchet would be better for killing, but the spade for knocking someone cold. And besides, he made it out of the Amone tunnel with this spade, so he sort of considered this his lucky charm.
"Looks like nobody's worried about it to begin with." Michael finally turned to Alex as he leaned himself on the table with the shovels still on him. "It's funny that they expect a sapper and a sniper to do this work for them instea of...you know, dedicated shocktroopers."
For him? He certainly had his worries and fear, but given the experience he had been through with Amone, he was confident enough to not show anything about it.
@Smike@Hawthorne@AdmrlStalfos19
In
~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~
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3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
December 30th, Rear Trench
The observation post was then handed to two replacement soldiers, as the three returned to the rear line to get themselves some rest. And by rest it's more like boredom. Such is trench life. There's no running, jumping, hopping around, nor was there books to read or games to play. Everything is just so limited. As a result, all what Michael did were mostly just having a bit of cleanup in Trebin village and then just wandered around the village ground admiring the snow. For all he knew, it was rare seeing snow in Tyrella, despite how cold it was during this time of the year. If not at all, it would be a few days of light snow, so seeing how much of it today does tickle his curiosity. But it didn't take long until he was summoned by a Sergeant, not that he needed to go anywhere anyway.
Before he thought of what he was summoned for, the quick briefing indicated a mission. A trench raid. And apparently he and his group were supposed to capture at least 2 people for some interrogation. All the moral worries about what would they do to those two or even the danger of going into enemy trenches asides, how was he going to even do this? It was easy to kill someone intentionally. It was easy to spare someone intentionally. But it wasn't easy to knock someone out to drag them back intentionally.
The mission would start in 2 hours. Michael would spend most of its time in the village inn, figuring out what he needed to bring for this. Aside from his gun for ranged combat, his hatchet for close quarter and some grenades, he wasn't sure what else. He probably would want his spade, even though he wasn't going to dig things, since in case of someone screwing up, he could dig himself a hidy hole in the midst of No Man's Land. It wouldn't be a good solution for that matter, but it was the best. But other than that, what was he going to bring? Satchel charges were probably impossible to get, so that's out of the equation.
"I don't know what to bring..." He rubbed his temples as his equipment is laid out on the table in front of him. "What do you people bring anyway?"
He said to those few people nearby from his task group, whether they be just chilling out or were also preparing themselves for the mission.
Alexander Kherol
The Last Ascendancy Commander
The Mind of a Genius II
2453 AD
The bell on the wall rang to the end of the test. Students finally had their moments to let out their suppressed stress. More doubly so as this was a high school for the gifted. Curriculums were high, an so was demands of the students. Some were broken by their performance, sitting dejected or quickly making their leave, lest the student discussions of their test results reminded them. Some others were just letting loose. They did their best, and whatever happens happens. They looked forward to their video game night, or a sport's game on TV. There was nothing more for them to worry, at least for now, until the next semester arrives. One of them, however, didn't have that luxury.
"Hey Alexander, do you know how to solve the second-part of last problem? I could only finish the first half of it."
"Dirichlet's Principles, isn't it?"
"Yeah yeah. The box is 4x3 size so I split the box into six 2x1 smaller boxes. The furthest distance in each boxes is square root of 5. Given 7 points, there will be at least 1 box with 2 points. So there will be 2 points out of 7 in that large box that will be at most square root of 5 distance away from each other."
The young white haired kid, carefully combed over his forehead, in his sweatshirt worn over a collared shirt gave a smile as he nodded.
"Yes, that's correct."
"But the second part only allows 6 points with the same requirements. I don't know how to split the box."
"Oh..." Alexander reached for his pen and drew something on his notes that he had used throughout the stressful 3 hours test. It was the same 4x3 box, but split into 4 house-shaped pentagons, two were upright, two were upside-down, one of them laid on top the two upright ones while the other split in two and placed in-between the upside-down pentagon.
"The furthest distance in these pentagons are also square root of 5. Now you only have 5 areas to apply the Dirichlet Principles to those 6 points."
The logic follows exactly how it was described earlier. It just blew their mind. What amazed the student, who was over half a decade older than Alexander, was the unorthodoxy of the shapes. It was definitely not what was usually demonstrated in class. It just looked beautiful that everything just fit in so nicely with this solution.
"Wow, I had no idea. That's so smart. I really don't think I could have come up with this in time." The student patted Alexander on the shoulder as he tossed the notes back to him. "Anyway, what are you gonna do now that exams are over?"
"I have a chess exhibition match coming next week so I have prepare." He replied.
"Ah I see. Who are you playing against?"
"I'll play a few people, but the one they're advertising is Babir Anchovisch."
"...Babir Anchovisch..." They took a few seconds to dig up their knowledge. "isn't that the Kortan chess grandmaster?"
"Yes, that's him." It wasn't too common for aliens to learn human board games, let alone becoming a grandmaster. But Kortans are naturally smart creatures, and the chess game were perfect for them, so he wasn't surprised if there are a couple of them in the high leagues.
"Damn, and you're what, 11? How do you feel?" They asked.
Facing a grandmaster? It ain't the stressful part. He had talked to and played against other chess masters, both humans and aliens alike. He beat most of them, drew some and lost some. But he didn't feel stressful at all. Many of his encounters were private matches in his community chess club that he himself requested, or they were low-stake publicity game with weaker players. But this one? He was going against one of the best Kortan chess players in the galaxy. Already, it strayed from a beautiful duel of intellect, but rather a media sensation. This was the Ascendancy's way of showing off their power and intellect. Everyone were hyped, expectations were skyscraping. He wasn't only being the prodigal Alexandrian here, he was representing a generation. The ironic thing was that the man of intellect like Alexander hadn't existed for many many years.
"I'm gonna to be honest, I'm a bit scared." The boy replied.
"Scared? Why?" They asked.
"I might end up short of expectations. What if I make a silly mistake? What if I don't do well." He trailed on.
"Don't worry my man. You're smart. I'm sure you'll do great!"
They pat his shoulders again. They're sure he'll do great. Everyone's sure he'll do great. He's the prodigy after all. He's smarter than everybody else. He's supposed to do great. Despite how inhuman the task is. He's going to do great!
"Yeah, I am sure..." Alexander replied simply, his gaze trailed away over to the scenic outside the windows. It appeared like it was going to rain the entire week.
It did rain. Quite a downpour in fact on the day of the match. As a result, instead of going there himself, the event host spared him the limousine to the hotel where the match would take place. A grand building in the old-fashioned 20th century architecture, supposedly a call back to the era, but was unwelcoming. The dim light, dull grey wall lacked the elegance of a human touch. But it did do a good job at just not getting Alexander's attention, as the boy flipped through the digital page on his tablet. Not of chess positions nor famous games of the past, but talking points.
It would be a long 3-day event. The 18 matches against 3 chess masters, including the Kortan grandmaster, spread out evenly were the least of his concerns, since it would only be rapid games to save time. Most of the time, it'd be interacting with journalists, other professional chess players or just celebrities, taking questions and photo-ops. He wouldn't want to stumble into their bad sides after all.
"Alexander?" He could hear his mother knocking from behind the door. It quickly slid open with a yoke of the finger from his table. "Are you ready?"
Accompanying her was, to his surprise but not entirely unexpected, the CEO of the company behind this event. A middle-aged head of a major water corporation, as well as career party politician, or so he heard. His first words upon seeing Alexander were familial welcomingly, almost too welcoming for even his parents. But deep within it weren't the desire to meet or get to know this young genius, but a request.
"How are you doing, young one?" The CEO had his arms wide. "Are you ready for your first games of the day?"
"...Yes, I am ready." The boy took a few moments observing.
"Goooood. That's my boy!" He held out his hand for a fist bump. As soon as the 11-year-old boy returned it, the act was dropped almost immediately. "Remember that we have an interview with the contestants before that. You'll be representing the Ascendancy's next generation, so do us proud!"
"Yes sir. I will not let you down." Alexander replied
"By the way..." He continued, side-glancing the boy. "Has anyone told you about your eyes?"
Alexander glanced over to his mother standing next to the CEO. She too widened his eyes at the question and switched in between looking at her own son and the CEO. A strange question but he answered it anyway. "Aside from my mother and father, no."
"There's something alluring about those two contrasts when I look at you. It's very..." He gazed up for a second or two. "...charming, I'll put it like that."
"Why thank you sir. I-"
"That's why I wanna ask you to do us a favor." He didn't even wait to take out a pair of glasses from his pocket. "If you don't mind wearing this when you go out there?"
Alexander took the glasses from his hands. It didn't seem too different from normal glasses.
"My eyes are fine though." Alexander, reasonably so, asked. It didn't seem to be a prescription glasses either. It is just a very thick opaque glasses that when put on didn't change his vision. It does appear to be transition lens, however, as it seemed to darken when he placed it in front of the lamp or the windows, which was pretty neat, but still.
"But they aren't strong." He replied. "We have to show the Kortas that you are a dangerous opponent. They won't take you seriously if they see your eyes like that."
The eyes were the gate to a person's souls. When one saw his eyes flurrying with activities across the room and on the chessboard, they're captivated. They'd fall in love. They'd be mesmerized by curiosity to his intentions. But under the spectacles where the only thing they'd see is the reflection of themselves and the blinding light of the room, they wouldn't be watching a being of emotions, but some kind of intelligence. Cold, calculating, and unpredictable.
After examining the glasses for long, Alexander finally put them on properly. The colorful eyes now replaced with two dull blank rectangles.
"See, now you look mysterious. Strong! And intimidating. They will not know what hit them."
Indeed they won't...
This boy is strange. His opening moves are ridiculous and the chess masters commenting on this were all saying he's losing. Yet 15 or so moves later, he won, convincingly in fact.
This kid's enormous talent is immediately noticeable the moment the bewilderment subsides. My initial amusement quickly faded when I realize how unfamiliar I was with those positions. Our training did not prepare me against his creative play, inhumanly precise calculation and devilish resourcefulness.
Our training was instantly tossed out the windows the moment we shook hands. He just avoided all chess theories and opening principles. Us high level players like to enjoy our enclosed social groups where everyone understands each other's moves. We don't understand him. Some of his moves look weak even to the strongest of computers, but when you realize how dangerous it is, you are already dead. His innate tactical sensing is beyond our understandings.
He is just too good. There is no use playing him. All 6 games I was beaten, yet I didn't even know why or when. It was like I was being gradually outplayed, from the very start. The most depressing and unsettling thing about this is that he didn't take time to think at all. Even Babir doesn't spend this little time on his moves.
He's a player without any noticeable weaknesses.
"Didn't know ya wear glasses."
A voice zoned him back to life. He had been on autopilot for so long, he only knew that the event was over and that he was just on the way home. He forgot how long it took. It was almost sunset now, so he could reasonably say it took at least a bit.
"Huh?" He turned to the direction of the familiar voice. It was Sarie, sitting by the trees in the park in front of his apartment that they had been hanging out with each other. Her lazy headrest on the tree bark quickly came to life as she straightened herself and waved him over. Looking over to his parents, who also heard her, he asked without said. They simply nodded with smiles and went back to their apartment without him.
"Hey Sarie." He approached and waved back. "Thought you've already gone home?"
"Was about to! Anna just went home, I just wanna look at the sunset a little bit more."
The sun was especially vibrant today. The orange reflection of the sunray veiled under the clouds enveloped the sky in its boldest blaze, a settled heart to the horizon.
"Isn't there a forest fire happening right now? It doesn't look like this in normal days." Alexander said.
"I dunno. Looks beautiful nonetheless." She replied. "Anyway, ya near-sighted?"
"Oh, ummm..." It suddenly dawned on him that he forgot to take the thing off the entire time. He should have returned this to the CEO earlier but eh, whatever. If he came and asked for it back then sure. If not he could just use it as sunglasses. "I never am near-sighted. My eyes are fine."
He took it off instantly.
"Huh, makes ya look quite spooky. I prefer this you a lot better!" Sarie exclaimed. He chuckled a little as he sat down beside her. "Anyway Alex, congratulations!"
"Thanks...you mean for my chess matches?" He asked.
"Yeah. Everyone was talking about you today! They wanted to emulate you and your matches with that elephant guy...Baby or something like that!" She exclaimed
"Babir." He corrected. "Yeah, sounds like fun."
"We tried to continue from your positions every time you move, but you were too fast. So we just tried to guess why both sides did what they did."
"Wait we? You're in it too? I thought you don't know chess?"
"I didn't! And people don't like it so I kinda just stayed quiet and watched." She said, almost nonchalantly so.
"Ayyyy." Alexander sighed with a disappointing headshake. He had always said not to exclude anyone but they just wouldn't listen.
"But thanks to that, I knew how the game works now!" She proudly declared. "Like how your tower just jumps right over your king! Oh oh, and how the pawn just slaps the enemy pawn that tries to zip past it. Like WHAM! Dead."
Oh, en passant. Hey, she got the concept at least. Better than some dumbos accusing people of making up rules.
"Wanna try them out?" He winked as he took out the chess set from his bag. "I'll go easy and take my queen off the board for ya."
"No no no!" She wagged her fingers at him. "You NEED the queen. Kings and queens go together, remember?"
"Ah, right right!" A tired but earnest laugh like the red setting sun, as he remembered those words. "Then I shall not allow her to die. Deal?"
"What's gonna be my reward then?"
"Hmmm, a stuffed plushie. Whatever you choose."
"Deal!"
And they played. And played. And played. Even as night falls and the moon took over. For the boy who beat a grandmaster back and forth, this was pure fun. Wild sacrifice, ridiculous openings, funny rules. And most importantly, an opponent who expected nothing out of him nor the game. She was here to laugh. And he was there to laugh too. The most human thing he ever felt.
Alexander Kherol
Alea iacta est
"Yeah. What about it? It has to butt heads somewhere at some point." Alexander merely shrugged at his general's implications.
"This will escalate tensions, you know that?" Antony replied, to which Alexander nodded, almost nonchalantly. "Civil war even." Another nod similar to the last one. "What happened to reform the Ascendancy with incrementalism?"
The Grand Admiral, leaning right onto the table next to him and shrugged once again with his lips perched to one side. "...Still there. Never has gone away."
"...I really don't understand-"
"Look, as I said, we are facing a fascistic regime. They are not going to abide by the laws when their power is at stake. What we did up till this point is a minor thing to them. One day, there will be something that we both cannot compromise." He explained.
Antony gave an unusually stern look at the Grand Admiral.
"So you're saying it's inevitable?"
Alexander nodded.
"...But..." Of all people, it was the impetuous Lan who spoke up, strangely calm and retrospective. "Didn't you say we can beat them in the legal sense?"
"...did I?" Alexander turned to her, his voice calm but with a hint of genuinity.
"I don't remember clearly what we talked entirely but I remember somewhat when..." She snapped her fingers a few times. "After Ponin remember? When we were in the medical center? We talked literally deep into the night that the nurses were mad about it."
"Uhh...yeah, now I remember..." Alexander scratched his temple, his reply softened. "...but one man's opinion can change. It's been 6 years since, hasn't it?"
Lan gave a sideway glance as she both nodded and shrugged her shoulders. A strange attitude compared to her usual self. It unfortunately also left a very awkward silence in the room. Everyone was just...unsure of what to make of what Alexander just said. On the one hand, it was rather rare that he would act like this, taken by surprise and hesitant in his response. Perhaps they had been too accustomed to this leader Kherol image - a man of action, strength, and daringness. On the other hand, he had a point, and to be honest, even the men and women in the most intimate circle of colleagues, considered the giants of the galaxy, weren't anywhere the political insight necessary to judge what was right in this scenario, maybe except for Annette. Reform, revolution, or both? They only trusted that their superior, one of the greatest space commanders in the current galaxy, to make the right decision.
Sensing the atmosphere, the candid captain of the Richthofen gently approached Alexander, having been quiet for the entire meeting silently observing.
"You have a moment?" She tiptoed to whisper to him. He nodded, and she turned to the rest of the commanders. "Excuse us for a few minutes. We'll be back."
"Look, Alex, it's imperative you be transparent about this to your commanders. Hell, maybe even to yourself for that matter." Carina's austere aura was doubly so today. Her arms crossed in front of her chest as she stood at a distance from Alexander in the empty hallway. "I know what you're thinking. It's not simply about you changing your ideals suddenly like that. You've always been against the idea of a violent takeover ever since I know you. You even said that we have to fight against that instinct to do what comes natural."
Alexander could see the underlying criticism she was levying his way, but, as she said, he held onto that natural instinct to throw out an answer. He stood quiet by the corner of the wall looking at his friend and captain as she walked up to him, adjusting his collars and patting his shoulders
"Have I been honest about how contradictory you are?"
"No. This I can't remember for sure." Alexander said as Carina gave him a smile.
"Your family remember? Your marriage too to some extent. That's what you've always wanted." Alexander tilted his head to the side, and she shook his shoulders with her grip. "Come on, don't even try to deny it. You've rambled about it for years to me."
"Yeah, that's true. You've probably gotten sick of it coming from me." Alexander gave her a witty smile.
"No, that's something I can respect. But at the same time, you cannot bring yourself to leave your work. Now now I know..." She said, shrugging her shoulders hard. "The Ascendancy sucks, and it needs you to fix itself. But that's not really a justification to be such a workaholic. You've taken a vacation only once for the last 8 years, and that was only a short detour with your friend. You work throughout the weekends too. I've never actually seen you NOT doing anything at all in fact."
"You want a peaceful life, but you seem have this...fear of idleness. I don't know where it's from, but you keep pushing, harder and harder to satisfy it..."
"...Let me guess, it's the same deal with this one." The Grand Admiral replied. Carina perched her lips a little.
"...I wouldn't say you fear being idle in this case, but something else. But I'd like to believe THAT 'something else' is behind your thoughts." She said, as her gaze landed on the door leading to the meeting room. "I doubt this will sway the loyalty of your officers, but it will greatly help their conviction. I am sure that Antony would like this new direction, if you're being sincere with it."
"Maybe even mine as well..." Alexander gave a loose sigh before uprightly straightened his uniform again. "I'm gonna need my time alone. Just for a few minutes."
Knowing his preferences, Carina simply nodded and took her leave silently, back to the meeting room.
That 'something else'...
Carina was right. He did work like a workaholic. Health-wise, he still exercised daily and slept 8 hours a day, overall a fit person by the standard of a non-augmented human, but other than that, he didn't have much of a...pastime. He could say chess and reading are counter-examples, but he didn't do that often enough to recollect the last time he does so. Hell, the readings he did were for his works too. The scary thing was that he didn't even realize them. Work just dissolved the day for him. He just got lost in it and by the time he was out, the day ended and he was in bed. Rinse repeat. He definitely didn't need to work this hard. Faro is his chief of staff and the amount of time he worked is proportional to the wrinkles on his face, but the old man still spent his time everyday checking up on his wife (whom he stayed with for almost 60 years now), talking to the kids, grandkids, and if none were applicable, he'd just play balls with the soldiers. The old man has a life outside work. Everybody around him have. Alexander doesn't. Why?
Was it actually fear of idleness? That by doing nothing, he achieves nothing?
This Ascendancy business too. He too forgot how he wanted to do these things. It was important and immediately relevant than his work ethics, so he decided to focus on this first. For this one, now that he took the time to introspect, he knew exactly what was talked about here. It wasn't the last straw that broke the invisible camel's back, but it was the instigator. He had been working on this 'kangaroo court' case behind the scenes ever since he drew first blood. But the camel's not dead. What should he do here?
He could turn back. Go back into incremental change. Change the Ascendancy gradually with small legislation and reforms, bribing or converting senators into his fold, both to build legal and political power. And then when he had enough power, he'd be able to pass any legislation he wanted, or hell even a bloodless coup, shaping the government his way. The peaceful and best solution that spared the blood of the people. But again, this is a fascist regime. Would they be so dumb to let him carry out this plan? Right now there are already whispers to strip Alexander of his Grand Admiral title as well, following Nikolas's retirement. Besides, the case he was also working on was getting nowhere as well. Following this route would likely mean that he'd lose the case. A queen sacrifice for a potentially better good.
Or he could follow this through. Escalate tensions and go into direct conflict with the Ascendancy higher-ups. It would certainly mean he could just do whatever he wanted to. But he would definitely be swamping through a blood pool. Exactly what he had wanted to avoid. Revolutions are messy. The most successful ones are triumphant and are revered for centuries and maybe even millennia, but so many failed ones littered the pages of history. And all of them were washed in blood. Especially the latest one. They often are destructive more than constructive. The Grand Admiral certainly did not oppose to the idea, but so many hot-headed revolutionaries are careless with this. No coalition, no concrete constructive actions, destructive behaviors, lofty utopian views are some of the most obvious that people conveniently ignore. And Alexander was not so above it all. He made his mistakes once, what if he made more mistakes again? The blood would be on him.
It took him a long while to make up his mind. As a leader, he couldn't renege halfway through. Once the decision is made, he'd have to go through with it. To his surprise, the meeting was not dissolved, but rather devolved into Antony making some Shakespearian speeches with poor Carina at the receiving end of it to keep the attendees occupied. Alexander's return made them stop halfway and stood at attention.
The Grand Admiral's steps returned to the usual long stride, his gestures firm.
"Sorry for the long delay. I will be honest, I was heavily deliberating this. If I had been more prepared going into this meeting."
He laid his two hands straight on the table in front of him.
"But it's decided now. Here's the plan."
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