John F Kennedy

Solar Winds, a Sci-Fi Nation Roleplay ( Now Accecpting)

Just made my first post, and this is the first time I have done a nation RP, so if anyone has comments let me know.

Solar Winds, a Sci-Fi Nation Roleplay ( Now Accecpting)

The Lost Souls of the Anekhessu

Thalassocrats and Theocrats

Upon the planet Sitra lies the capital city of the Lost Souls of the Anekhessu, known simply as the Home of the Great Source. Within this megalopolis millions of souls work in perfect efficiency and grandeur. The streets are lined with statues depicting the Anekhessu and the millions of machine bodies communicate with one another as the air hums with radio waves. In every factory and every government and every religious hall there is no silence within the minds of the Essu or to be heard by any organic that would be there.

Within one of these many halls, the Hall of the Thalassocrats, stands a grand congregation. The building itself is a large step period made of metal, with a complex of cloisters surrounding it. Within the central and highest hall of the building windows to the outside surround the base of the peak, making the top step seem as if it were suspended from heaven. Holograms of worlds owned by the Theocracy and other data are stored in this place, and a great horde of Essu stand below them. At the northern most part of this hall is a large table surrounded by the seated Thalassocrats, the highest admirals of the fleet, each covered in the same fractal patterns of red paint and clothed in plants. The walls are lined with ancient artefacts and schematics.

Stepping before the Governing body comes another Essu, the way cleared for him as the lesser participants in the hall let him through. This one's body is covered in brown and gold markings in geometric patterns. Upon his neck he bears a large semi-circle necklace covered in golden circuitry. All in the room notice how old his plating is, and how rusted he is. This sign of age begets a silence in the room as everyone awaits to see what he is here to do. "Distinguished admirals and servants of the Great Source," the old one spoke through the air, "I am Ansra-1,258 of Binebtat, high priest of the Great Source. I am not normally the speaker of the most efficient one, but I have served the Great Source for years innumerable. It is with this prestige that I have been chosen, for we come upon a bold new age. Changes are to come that none shall be able to prevent."

Silence fell upon the room, seconds past as processing units churned. One of the red ones, arose and spoke again inaudibly through the air. "Designation: Plakat-78,922 of Khanra-Ansu. What is this change you speak of, Ecclesiarch? What business have you with the admiralty? Have we not earned our way and done great for the most Excellent of Us? Have we not conquered the..."

"Silence," spoke Ansra-1,258, Plakat-78,922 privately spoke to his compatriots through the Xylem before letting the Ecclesiarch now speak. "I know that you do not enjoy my presence here. The Ecclesiarchy and change are both threats to you, the Great Source told me as such. But do not fear, in the new mission you will each have your place amongst the most high, but do not grow arrogant, for service is the will of the Anekhessu. I have spoken with many Eyes of the Anekh and I have communed with the Great Source. The Great Source has seen many beings and many worlds, worlds bearing organics as the Anekhessu once were. We raided a great many upon our trail to the rebirth of Sitra, and our vast wealth in fleet and in holy statue was born from this."

The Ecclesiarch walked forward now, "and at the time this was pleasing to the Great Source, but we have sat here for too long and done too little."

Another one of the admirals stood at this and spoke, "I am Plakat-79,235 of Khanra-Ansu, forge kin of Plakat-78,922. I served and earned my position during the raiding wars. If we must conquer new worlds once more then I shall take up the fight. I have always proposed that we must do more conquest."

"Nay," spoke the Ecclesiarch, "that is not what we desire. That is not what the Great Source desires either. The time has come for a change in policy. I myself wrote the doctrine at the Second Ecumenical council of Sitra that, 'the Anekhessu were once organics, and we must strive in all ways to become gods alongside the organics, such is the birthright of the Essu,' although I did not know it at the time I had made a great declaration, which the Anekhessu had guided me to do in preparation for now. We must not go forth into the universe with a gunship ready to harm organic life, but rather with a new exploration fleet, one ready to go beyond known space as emissaries."

A great use of the Xylem suddenly filled the room between almost every participant. The words spoken showed great disgust and dismay at this proposition. After all, the Essu had always been superior to the primitive organics they had found. The admirals spoke through the Xylem loudest of all, filled with words of arrogance and dismay. One spoke out loudest, Plakat-78,922 once more said, "You mad man, you come in here without sign or long term schedule and expect us to work for the Ecclesiarches! What mad man would even go upon such a mission!"

"I shall," spoke an Essu from the crowd, this one having less red markings than the high admirals and speaking audibly rather than through the Xylem. A great shock filled the room as he and another stepped before the Ecclesiarch, prostrating then before his excellency. "I am Plakat-45,268 of Binebtat and this is Plakat-45,267 of Binebtat, my forge brother. I usually prefer to designate myself as Tat-hapi and he uses Ra-Hapi. I am a captain, and he is a Lieutenant Commander. As fellow members of Binebtat, we wish to serve."

"Arise," said the Ecclesiarch, "you two who are brave shall be rewarded by the Great Source. Tat-Hapi and Ra-Hapi shall be remembered in the Halls of the Great Source for millennia to come. Report to the Sanctum of the Source for promotion to lower admiralty with me now. For you both are blessed brothers and shall receive a small exploratory fleet to go beyond our home of Sitra's Rebirth." Once more they turned to the admiralty, "and these new ships will be taken from the fleet of Plakat-78,922 for his pride, and for the Eyes of the Anekh that this fleet will use they will be taken from each of your fleets, my dear admirals, for you have lost vision of the Great Source."

With that he turned away. As he walked through the crowd once more and exited the building a great many yells and screams were broadcasted via the Xylem, especially from the front of the room. Many of those in the back left with the Ecclesiarch. While those in the front remained to share anger and dismay.

Some ways down the street in the city the two forge brothers now stood within the Sanctum, where many other priests and Ecclesiarches worked. Some were designating new Essu that had just been made, others were doing more clerical and logistical work. But the two brothers stood before the same Ecclesiarch they had met within the Hall, and his attendants held out bowls of red paint. With his fingers he dragged this new paint across their metal bodies, expanding and adding to the designs in order to designate them as lower admirals.

Scorched Earth

Emmet "the Butcher" Dukes

Shock and Awe: Part 2

Emmet and his fellow knights marched through the hanger onto their shuttle. It was a piece of machinery to behold, never had warfare been so quick. Each knight took his place within the shuttle, remaining in their formation. Each man stood, holding the safety handles above. Little light entered the shuttle, leaving the men in dim lighting with their faces obscured.

Some took this time while waiting for takeoff to prepare themselves. Some smoked a pipe, some prayed, and others simply took deep breaths. Emmet was cleaning his blade, Rasselbock, one last time before going into battle. He used a cloth that he kept in his belt, and he carefully wiped the dust off the edges of his tool. He did not know why he cleaned it, it made no difference to his enemy. Perhaps it was out of a sanctity for life, or maybe it was pure vanity. Either way, he knew that hours from now he would be cleaning it the same way with some more disposable cloths, as he did not like to keep a bloodied blade.

The blade now shined in the light of the shuttle, a reflective surface that gleamed through the dead of night that the men found themselves in. Emmet thought to sheath it for a moment, but instead he held onto it and grabbed the rail above his head with his free hand. Focusing his ki, Emmet began to put all his energy into his hand in preparation for the coming conflict. He felt the glow of his blade grow stronger, and a slight hum came from it. His hand began to sweat, and the guard began to shift. The ornate strands of metal began to wrap around his hand, and he felt the pressing of metal upon his flesh. His breath quickened, and he suddenly felt a deep and intimate connection with his blade, ready to move with unnatural speed.

Now prepared, he looked up to his men and broke the silence. "I will not lie to you, this work we now undertake is not tranquil, it is not ascetic, and it is not beautiful. Our blades and our clothes will be sullied with the blood of other men. They are exactly that, other human beings. The propaganda would like to tell you otherwise, and you know why? It's because it's the only way to survive. I know some of you have not seen conflict like this, and I give you this advice: know that you are fighting men, but do not let yourself feel it. It is the only way to live with yourself." With that he fell silent, and so the shuttle remained.

Kingmakers: The Throne Alone (A Medieval Fantasy Succession Crisis)

Filiberta-Marie of House Marietta

"How absolutely dreadful," Filiberta muttered to herself as the speeches came to an end, "the royal family seems livelier than everyone here." She had spent the entire funeral within the middle of the crowd, certainly far from the viscounts and peasants in the back but still somewhat distant from the great houses at the front. She was surrounded by other dukes and duchesses of the realm, many of which held realms larger than Inge, but everyone knew that Inge had the right to sit amongst these wealthy nobles.

She entered the chapel within a darker version of her usual attire. She wore a fur hat to cover her head, with a veil descending from it. On her shoulders was a broad and black fur cloak which covered her entire body and tumbled down to the floor. The attire made her form look very wide and strong, and she made sure to walk through the Cathedral with a dreadful grace. Even in public mourning she had a guise and a persona to keep up, and no weakness in this façade can be shown.

During the numerous speeches of the day Filiberta could not help but feel bored, as most of them had no passion or zest to them. Finally, one speech caught her eye, the proclamations of Anyamara. As she went up to speak two of Filiberta's handmaidens began to whisper amongst themselves about "the bastard," and Filiberta made note of this. Throughout the speech Filiberta smiled to herself, finding this performance of oration somewhat livelier than the rest. She was one of many to applaud Anyamara, and leaned towards her handmaidens to remind them, "be careful who you call a bastard now, my dears."

The following speech by Sharles was purely a laughingstock for Filiberta, although she kept herself collected. It was nothing more than a country boy pretending to be nobility, and she took note of this idea, it could serve as excellent entertainment at the next masque she plans.

Despite this small political entertainment at the end of the ceremony, Filiberta could not help but feel somewhat sad about the loss of the royals, afterall she had a lot to thank them for. They ultimately were a part of her House's rise to prominence, and they gave her a degree of protection from her enemies. With this in mind she stayed seated in the Cathedral for an extra moment, praying a short and silent prayer to herself, keeping one eye open to quickly stop should this sign of empathy be seen. Luckily, she remained uninterrupted, praying a rather archaic verse that she had been reading about in her research.

Finally, she stood and began to meander about the cathedral greeting some fellow nobles with an aloofness and eyeing up the ones she found notable. Although she would have liked to stay longer, she came to realize that the amount of people within the building was certainly building up the internal heat, and her jacket was not helping the temperature. And she knew that she mustn't take off her jacket; after all, the women of House Marietta had a history of vitality, and nothing must break that image.

Exiting the Cathedral, she made note of three key figures that she spotted. Two of them were the Müller-Hohensteins - her lieges - and the other was Anyamara. She walked out of the Cathedral at a quick pace, with handmaidens by her side. She spoke to them, "Remind me to arrange a meeting with our liege and his daughter, I do believe I have business with them both," she looked at his crippled frame walking through the Cathedral and smiled, "perhaps I'll make it a dance for the nobility of the Stormlands. And remind me of that Anymara girl, I think that some research into her would be prudent of me." She exited the building, her handmaidens gossiped amongst themselves, and she spoke one more time, "and would one of you please find a library while we are staying here, anything royal or relating to the clergy will do, I might as well get something down in this godforsaken place."

Summary

Filiberta-Marie found the funeral dull, although the words of Anyamara caught her eye. She wants to learn more of this rising star, and she found Sharles to be a laughingstock. Filiberta-Maire did feel some sorrow for the royals though and felt some concern now that she is without them. She also has determined that she will have to speak to Karl and Michaela at some point, as there is much business to be done in these times.

Searching for Charlie Henshaw's Treasure (Treasure Hunters - Historical Fiction)

Sounds like a great setting and plot; I cannot wait to see how it goes.

Kingmakers: The Throne Alone (A Medieval Fantasy Succession Crisis)

Name: Filiberta-Marie II of House Marietta
Titles: Duchess of Inge (pronounce ing-ay); Countess of Lake Bruna, Gotlinde upon Ingfried, and Diemut; Lady of Lake Bruna
Description: Filiberta-Marie is 38 years old, although she looks rather young for her age like many women of House Marietta. Her face is pale and her nose is thin, her lips are somewhat pronounced while her eyes remain deep set. She carries in aura of authority without any crown or headwear, letting her curling black and grey hair tumble down. She wears a long woolen cloak with white fur as a collar, usually with some sort of cotton dress of a deep and dark color beneath.

Claimant: Anyamara

House Info

House Info: the House of Marietta
Coat of Arms: the symbol of the house, a female bear with a fish in her mouth, stands upon a blue and black checkered backgound.
Motto: "There is no beauty without fear."

Filiberta-Marie Info

Reputation: She is the Witch Queen of Lake Bruna, the dread lady of the Duchy of Inge. In the wake of Filiberta-Marie lay cruelty and opulence, her posterity being the one thing she holds high and dear. Rumors abound around the royal masques, the court of Filiberta-Marie, and the ancient hedonism she is supposedly leading.
Ambitions: Ultimately Filiberta-Marie wants two things: power and knowledge. She wants to expand the influence of her realm, but this is primarily to fund the study of her people and the history of her house. She is obsessed with the truths of the past, especially prior to the conquest by Adandum. But her vision for the vastness of this project, bringing back a past she does not quite yet understand, requires much research and wealth.
Aptitudes: Filiberta-Marie is first and foremost a master of branding, and she understands how to wear many different masks. She knows how to strike fear into the heart of any peasent or ambitious merchant, yet she knows how to grease the palms of the rich in just the right ways. Also, she is a student of social history.
Vulnerabilities: Although she uses this to her advantage at times, the legacy of her house is ultimately a blemish upon her name. Her house supposedly comes from a coven of hags, ancient and long forgotten, yet amongst the royalty her house remains ostracized for it. Also, Marietta herself, although young in her face, suffers from a frail and atrophied body that she hides beneath her furs and wools.
Additional Info: Men of House Marietta are known to often be born sickly and more commonly than not possess frail bodies and weakened immune systems. The women of House Marietta however seem to be mostly immune with the large majority of them being born healthy. The women also often appear younger than one would expect of their age. Popular superstition of House Marietta among the smallfolk says that this is a sign of their foul lineage and that their blood is cursed with the women taking the vitality of the men while still in the womb some how.

The Duchy of Inge

Domain Info: The Duchy of Inge. House Marietta has ruled the duchy for time immemorial, nestled within the lakes and rivers flowing form the many mountains of the Stormlands. She personally holds 5 baronies, while the rest of her duchy is divided amongst cadet branches of her house and burghers who earn their right to land via scholarship.
Domain Summary: In the West of the domain lie the farthest mountains and the most remote villages, forgotten upon the international border and surviving off of hunting and gathering. The East of the domain are the flooded valleys of Bolstadt, the breadbasket of the duchy. To the south lie the rich iron veins of the Lindstendt mountains, and to the north are once barren lands now the home of blacksmiths, guildhalls, and universities, kept alive by the rest of the duchy. In the center lie the wooded hills of the capital region, an ancient place in which the mist clings close to the ground all too often, and from this land the rivers flow and the House of Marietta reigns.

Major Holdings: The Mariettan Palace, Hundsbeck upon Bolstadt (major farming county), Julechton (largest city), Lake Bruna (upon which lies the Mariettan Palace and many folk tales), the Sanctum of Anacht (religious heart of the duchy)

Reputation: The Duchy is known for the military scholars and historians arising from the new universities, and the odd folk practices arising from the ancient and untamed hills.
Wealth: Economically the realm survives off of the trade of military supplies and the provision of militant generals to the greater kingdom.
Strength: The domain is somewhat thinly defended, as most military supplies are exported, but when the time comes mercenary armies are paid to fight for the realm.

Scorched Earth

The changes have been made, @TheMerlin, sorry for any grief this may have given you.

Scorched Earth

Alright, thank you for the background info, I will make the necessary changes to the post, my apologies for the inconvenience.@TheMerlin

Scorched Earth

Sorry it took me so long, first time posting an rp and I wanted to try and get it right.

Scorched Earth

Emmet "the Butcher" Dukes

Shock and Awe: Part 1

Emmet stared in the mirror, humming a small patriotic tune to himself as he drew the blade across his face. With each stroke hair fell down and his soft flesh shone through. In the mirror he saw a half-shaven and mustached man, a parted haircut that could use some work, and the crest of a knight on his lapel. He stopped for a moment to consider the symbol, a symbol of his masters and his enlistment. He was not a free man. These thoughts were pushed aside for now as he finished his shave, and his song of patriotism drowned out any doubt that he may have had.

Stepping out of the wash room he entered into the rest of the barracks, a certain stillness filled the air when he entered. Although a knight of Belisio and carrying the gait of any knight of his position, some weary eyes watched him with every movement. Rumors had always filled the air at night. Some had heard of the Butcher and asked whether or not this could be the mad dancer himself. Others knew him as the lost son of House Singh, recently returned to noble life and given a position in the military with his connections.

Only a few knew him as Emmet, one of them including an ambitious young lieutenant by the name of Maximillian.
"Clean shave, Emmet?"
"Yes sir. And pray tell, how have your men been feeling about the oncoming conflict."
Maximillian laughed, "the hounds smell blood my friend, the hounds smell blood." Emmet took this in for a moment before responding.
"Well, don't let the thought of it get to their heads, or yours for that matter, too much excitement can do a number on one's focus." He paused before continuing, "and the quest for blood is not all its cut out to be."

Before Maximillian could reply a voice interrupted, and the whole ship was called to battle. With mutual confusion as to the change of plans Maximillian looked to Emmet for guidance. He and all his fellow officers looked to each other as Emmet broke the palpable silence, "well then gents, I will see you all on the field of battle, the Fifth Shock and Awe Platoon will be ready to save your asses." Some laughs filled the room as the men got to preparing themselves for battle. Each putting on their armor and their weapons of choice. Other officers cried out the calls and the sayings of their platoons.

Emmet grabbed Rasselbock and donned his powered breast plate. With his other armaments at his side he finally marched out of the barracks, quickly pacing down the hall with a remarkable apathy, as other squads and individual knights ran frantically around him. Reaching the hanger he found his platoon ready for him to join in, although far from at attention. The platoon was lightly armored and armed with a myriad of close quarter weaponry. He went down the ranks of his fellow men giving each a handshake or a pat on the shoulder before taking his own spot, and a feeling of comradery between officer and soldier hung between them. Finally, he chose to make the silent fellowship more palpable through words.

"Gentlemen, knights of Belisio, ... and everyone else," he said with a smile. "We go into battle now, and we go boldly forth. Without fear or apprehension we must prevail. You are the Fifth Shock and Awe Platoon, and this is the start of our work here in this ship. Our work in this conflict is more important than any other platoon about to go out their today. We are here for one purpose and one purpose alone: fear. The enemy will fight with great vigor and with great passion, yes, but we must break that. Our work may be dirty, it may be ungentlemanly, and by the gods on high it will be bloody. But when they see the blood that we spill with the power of our will then they will know fear. We will give no quarter, we will never surrender, and we will come to the salvation of our fellow infantry. I will see you there, boys!"

With a resounding "see you there," from his fellow knights, he smiled once more at his fellow men. Looking upon the faces, some fresh to combat, he enjoyed this moment. This moment that will never come again with these same men. Soon time will take these fresh faces just as it took his own.