Shyri — Roleplayer Guild

London, England A fast, sharp tapping echoed throughout the room, as King William repeatedly hit a pen into his desk, eyes fixed on a single piece of paper. Beside him stood Prime Minister David Jones, a surprisingly young man for his position, one hand on the back of the Kings chair, the other on the desk, as he, too stood bent over the paper. A quick glance between the two conveyed everything they were thinking. Without a word, the king finally stopped his tapping, set the pen on top of the paper, and quickly rose from his seat, nearly slamming his elbow into Jones' jaw in the process. With a quick exhale, the king released all the nervous energy building up within him, and turned to Jones, who by this point had also taken his eyes off the paper, standing at attention. “Tomorrow.” Said the king, voice shaking slightly. “Tomorrow.” replied Jones. “Shall we let her majesty know?” “Yes. Yes, of course. The children, as well. They will all need to be present, looking their finest.” Nodding, Jones smiled. “Of course, my King. We've been planning and preparing for weeks. There's absolutely nothing that can go wrong at this point. The signing will be a historic event, and will only further speed up the goal of reuniting the Empire.” “Yes... Yes.” Muttered the King, eyes staring off into the distance. “And with everything kicking off in Africa, this will serve as a good distraction. The news of the restoration of the Commonwealth will greatly overshadow the invasion. The slower the news of the invasion spreads, the better.” “Of course, sir. Now, please, get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a big day, and you need plenty of time to calm your nerves.” The Following Day Fanfare filled the air, as celebratory parades roamed through the streets of London. Crowds gathered all over, trying to catch a glimpse of everything either in person, or on television screens throughout the city. As the bands continued to play their music, two black vehicles flying the British and Australian flags respectively were escorted to an indoor stadium, where the ceremony would soon take place. Within the first car sat Prime Minister David Jones, King William, and Australian Governor General Mark Chapman. All three leaders were sitting in absolute silence. For each and every one of them, the magnitude of what they were about to do began to weigh down on them, and each one was focusing solely on that. The only thing that broke their silence was the driver of the vehicle calling back to them, announcing their arrival at the stadium. As the doors were opened, and the sounds of the crowd outside reached the ears of the rulers, reality flooded back in. Almost like a switch had been turned on, each of them immediately stopped over thinking the situation, and stepped out of the vehicle, smiling and waving. As they were escorted inside of the stadium, Jones and William exchanged a quick glance, almost assuring each other of the situation. Once the leaders were inside the stadium, the second vehicle pulled up, and the rest of the royal family left to join the King inside. Minutes later, once everything had calmed down, Jones took his place atop a large stage, and got the ceremony started. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for being here on this historic day! Looking out and seeing you all just fills me with happiness. Truly, it does.” Taking a small break, Jones collected himself, as he took on a more serious and official tone. “Years ago, the British Empire was the uncontested, strongest nation on the planet. It truly was the epitome of greatness. However, as nobody knew back then, that great empire would be thrown into a war, the likes of which it had never seen. The Great War, a war nobody truly won, proved to be the single thing the British Empire could not handle. By it's end, we were a nation in ruin. Unable to maintain control, we watched as the empire destroyed itself from within. Unable to act, we lost more and more of our people's faith. Then, in perhaps the most damaging thing to ever happen to our nation, we even began to destroy ourselves.” “The Great Anarchy threw Britain into a nearly unrecoverable state of political turmoil. Just barely avoiding becoming a civil war, we watched as different factions formed, each vying to control the nation, claiming they were the best choice. During this time, nobody was safe, not even the monarchy. Many members of the royal family died, both alongside of and at the hands of those they cared for. It was, perhaps, this brutality. This desecration of one of the most symbolic things our country has, that ended the Anarchy. Uniting under the only remaining member of the monarchy, the people of Britain fought against the factions that nearly destroyed the country. For the reasonable cost of returning more power to the monarch, we came together as one, and began to rebuild this nation.” “And now, as we are all here together, we will take the first step towards rebuilding the empire which was unjustly taken from us. We are joined today by Governor General Mark Chapman, as well as our King, William IV, to mark a momentous occasion. With their signatures, the British Empire takes it's first step towards it's former glory. Towards new glory. Under the Commonwealth of Nations, former members of the British Empire swear to unite under King William IV. While still independent, they are just as much a part of the British Empire as we here on the British Isles are. While it is just us and Australia for now, it is our hope that many others will recognize their Monarch, and accept their part as a member of the Commonwealth. Now, without further ado. Let us sign this historic document, and bind ourselves together.” Smiling, King William stepped up to a podium, taking a pen out, and signing his name on the document sitting below him. As he placed the pen back down, a massive amount of cheering filled the room, not stopping until the king sat back down. When Mark Chapman stood, all remaining cheering was exchanged for dead silent, as everybody looked at the leader of Australia. Smiling, and giving a quick wave, the Governor General signed his name on the document, raising the pen in the air as he finished, also joining the crowd in their cheering. Standing once again, King William walked over to Chapman, and extended his hand out to the Governor General. With a firm handshake, the two leaders sealed the deal, smiling out towards the crowd. As camera's snapped, and the crowds cheered on, Jones stepped up once more to the podium, and spoke. “As of today, the British Empire has taken it's first step towards it's future! Long live the Empire!” South Africa While the celebrations raged back home, the soldiers in South Africa had just began what would be a long and grueling war. Having solidified their position earlier that morning after taking Fish Hoek, and essentially the entire peninsula South of Cape Town, all that was left for the British Army was to begin their long march North, not stopping until all of South Africa was under their control. What had earlier that day been a hangar was now the British center for operations in South Africa. At the far end, a medical center was set up, where Neville Bishop was currently stitching up an injured soldiers stomach. Sweat dripped down from his forehead, between a dark pair of eyes, and down a long nose. He hadn't had a second of rest since they stepped foot on the beach the day before. As soon as the fighting stopped, he immediately returned to being a medic, and had been working on injured soldiers since. As he finished, he felt a heavy hand on his back, and turned to see who it belonged to. Looking down at his was a tall, curly haired man, grimacing at the wound Neville had just finished sewing up. “What the fuck happened to him?” asked the man in a very thick Scottish accent. “Oh. He got attacked by some civilian with a knife, right as we took the town.” replied Neville, sounding like he was about to pass out. “He gonna live?” Asked the Scot, to which Neville could only shrug. “We haven't received all of our medical supplies yet, so we couldn't do the best we could for him. Honestly, I think he'll be lucky if he does make it. But I still did the best I could.” Nodding, the Scot patted Neville on the back again. “So. He was your last one, right?” “That he was.” replied Neville, sounding relieved. “I finally get to eat, and then sleep.” “Okay, well. Before you do that, there was some bloke looking for you. I told him where you were, but I guess he's a wee bit squeamish.” Raising an eyebrow, Bishop looked at his friend. “Where was he?” “Eh... Just clean yourself up, and meet me outside your... corner.” Nodding, Neville cleaned his hands off in a small makeshift sing they had put together. He hadn't known Andrew, the Scotsman, long, but they had quickly become best friends during their time together back in Britain. Smiling to himself at the thought, he walked out and met up with Andrew, who then led him into the area that had been designated as a dining room for the soldiers. Looking around, Andrew found the person he was looking for, and led Neville over to him. Immediately, Neville recognized him as the large man he had spent almost he entirety of fighting along the coast with. Standing, the man smiled at Neville, and extended a hand. “Hey, I wanted to thank you. I don't think you ever realized it, but you saved my life on that beach. The name's Tom.” Confused, Neville returned the handshake. “Nice to meet you, Tom. I'm Neville. Now... How exactly did I save you?” “Well... For starters, if you didn't give me that laugh on the boat, I probably would have been frozen there, and probably died. Second off, you did in that African bloke who was about to shoot me when my gun jammed.” Blinking, astonished, Neville sat speechless. He hadn't even realized that he saved Tom. He just went down the beach, shooting anyone who was aiming a gun their way. Just as he was about to speak, he was cut off by Andrew, elbowing him in the side. “Looks like you're a fuckin hero, Neville! And here I remember you saying you thought you would piss yourself if you ever had to actually fight.” Andrews remark earned him an elbow in his own side, which he just laughed off. With the mood loosened, Neville remembered something, and turned to Tom. “I almost forgot. Andrew said you didn't want to go back to the medical area because you're squeamish? How does that work, with you being a big, tough soldier?” This comment caused a few friendly laughs to erupt from the mouths of the people Tom was sitting with, but he just ignored them, wanting to answer Neville's question. “Well... I'm not actually much of a soldier. I'm actually a mechanic. In all honesty, I can't stand the sight of blood. I think if it weren't for the adrenaline while we were fighting, I would have passed out right there in the sand.” Eyes widening a bit, Neville couldn't help but laugh a little. Instantly, he caught himself, holding out a hand to Tom. “Sorry, sorry! It's not really that funny. I just... It's just not something I would expect from somebody in the army is all.” “Yeah, I get that a lot. But I really didn't think I would see combat all that much, so I didn't see the harm in joining. Just learned the hard way how wrong I was, though.” Sighing, Tom shook his head, making fun of himself under his breath. “Well, if you lads haven't eaten yet, why don't you join us? We can share stories and stuff our faces before they send us back out there. How about it?” “Yeah, why not?” replied Andrew instantly, speaking for both of them, to which Neville just nodded in response. After the two got their food, they sat down across from their new acquaintance, and enjoyed the bit of relaxation they would get before they were once again sent out to fight.

-snip- And nations such as Prussia should be able to develop them even faster. I don't see why Hugs couldn't at least have really basic jet technology and refine it over time. -snip-
@Mihndar

Honestly, I think Prussia should be able to, at this point, at least be in the early development stage for jets. I honestly think that, maybe except for France (but they're an NPC), Prussia is the only country in Europe other than Spain that could currently handle taking that task on. As much as I would love for Britain to be at that stage also, with all the country has been through, I don't think that they're anywhere near capable to even consider the idea. So it's not like I'm saying it to improve myself or anything. I just realistically see at least Prussia being able to begin on jet tech. That said, I will now begin writing my post of said Brits struggling to even take on South Africa.

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