WA Delegate: The Confederate Empire of Sheng China (elected )
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Regional Power: Moderate
Today's World Census Report
The Highest Average Incomes in Asiana
The World Census carefully compared the average spending power of citizens in each nation.
As a region, Asiana is ranked 1,353rd in the world for Highest Average Incomes.
|1.||The United Empire of Argent||Father Knows Best State||“Argentia est imperare orbi universo”|
|2.||The Confederate Empire of Sheng China||Mother Knows Best State||“大皇后万岁，大帝国万岁”|
|3.||The Democratic Republic of Tokora||Democratic Socialists||“Free of blood!”|
|4.||The Khanate of Tam Amisgal||Corrupt Dictatorship||“We bring the Winter Flame.”|
|5.||The Conglomerate of The Phantom Syndicate||Father Knows Best State||“The world must burn for it to be born anew.”|
|6.||The Confederate Principalities of Turokhan||Iron Fist Consumerists||“Glory to Turokhan! Glory to the heroes!”|
|7.||The Most Serene Imperial State of Yaosai City||Father Knows Best State||“Dakiro Shall Survive!”|
|8.||The Republic of Roman Hibernia||Scandinavian Liberal Paradise||“Aequitas, Clementia, Pietas.”|
|9.||The Federation of The Democratic States of Ablya||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“Let justice be done, though the Heavens Fall”|
|10.||The Fascist Kingdom of Florentinz||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“The hawk with talent hides it's claws.”|
- : The Community of Rinnegan Syndicate arrived from Osiris.
- : The Community of Rinnegan Syndicate ceased to exist.
- : Tsaire ceased to exist.
- : The Dictatorship of Trans Anarcho-Communist Lesbian Catgirls of the region SECFanatics withdrew an invitation to construct embassies.
- : Pacifco ceased to exist.
- : The Holy Empire of Floor Gang Empire of the region SECFanatics proposed constructing embassies.
- : The Holy Empire of The Grey Isles tried to enter the region but did not know the password.
- : Embassy cancelled between SECFanatics and Asiana.
- : The Republic of Rabbt of the region SECFanatics ordered the closure of its embassy in Asiana.
- : Embassy cancelled between Homelands and Asiana.
Asiana Regional Message Board
The screen in the dark room flashes with the text 'transmission waiting'. When the connection finally goes through and shows an image of Zixin, it reveals Deraj's figure sitting alone in a highback chair. The Emperor rests his chin against the palm of his hand. His fingers rest against his face, caging his right eye. After a few moments, Deraj's releases a deep sigh. "You kept me waiting..."
Deraj's eyes snap open, revealing his yellow glowing bionic-eye shining between his fingers that frame it. Drawing his hand away, the glowing optical menaces as Deraj leers in irritation. "I am not one who is made to wait." He seethes through his teeth and clutches the chairs arms with his hands; digging his sharpened nails into the fabric.
After another long and tense moment of silence, Deraj relaxes back into his chair and lets out sigh again. He twists his neck side to side resulting in audibly loud pops and cracks.
"Did you enjoy your bath?" Deraj notes with attention to the wet hair and clingy silk robe. "Am I making this too easy for you, little prince? If you can afford to bath luxuriously without little enough concern for my calling you then I think you must be taking things rather easy."
Deraj gives Zixin little chance to respond as he presses coldly forward, "Did we forget the extreme tight rope which we must walk...for you to achieve your desires? Did we forget the consequences should we commit one single misstep?"
Only half a second passes before Deraj presses angrily again, "You are supposed to be coordinating the missions of the Viperia in Arabia to ensure their wide effectiveness. You have failed to do so. The missions have been a muddled series of sporadic incidents that have only just succeeded into causing a conflict." The Emperor's anger having boiled over brings him to his feet as he berates Zixin.
Taking a deep breath, Deraj simmers down his anger and frustration with a long exhale. "You are like a untrained dog off of its leash, little prince. I have decided that you need a leash and firm trainer."
Just from seeing the sitting posture of the Argentian Emperor and hearing the irritation in his voice is enough to throw ice water over Zixin's heart and nerves as he felt the anxiety flood through him. The moment the cruel machine eye snaps open, Zixin falls to one knee and bows his head in submission.
"The weather is scorching and I was just..." He tries to explain before being cut off.
"I did not forget, your maje..." Zixin immediately silences himself when Deraj's angry tone cuts through. Hearing the word 'failed' stabbed at him strikes directly at his heart and he feels like the wind is being knocked out of him. Despite wishing to state his case and defend himself, Zixin lowers his head as Deraj reprimands him.
It is only the Emperor's last insistence that Zixin's head shoots up from submission, "What do you mean by that? A trainer?" Zixin demands standing to his feet. "Are you saying I need a handler?" He petulantly lashes out.
Trans-Amur has begun to modernise it's armed forces. This comes as concerns have been raised as to the effectiveness of Trans-Amurian military equipment after a recent border conflict with "with what can only be described as bandits" resulted in heavy losses by the Trans-Amur patrol despite having seemingly have all the advantages. With much of the military still using older and outdated equipment, many are starting to wondering if they are up to task still of defending Trans-Amur in their current state. Only afew regiments of the most elite forces in Trans-Amur have access to top of the line equipment and gear.
This modernization will be accompanied with major and comprehensive reforms to the armed forces.
In an interview with the Head of the Ministry of Defence, she stated that this is fundamentally shake up the armed forces but has declined to state the current reform plans stating that they are currently a state secret at the moment.
In other news Trans-Amur has begun showing increasing interest with opening diplomatic ties with several counties.
"Indeed I am." Deraj cheerily announces before shifting his voice to a more serious tone. "In fact I am not just saying it, I am ordering. What's more is that I have already done it."
In the very corner of the room that Zixin is in, light and what seems like the fabric of reality starts to shimmer and wave. The shimmer cascades to the floor and reveals a person tucked away and leaning on the wall. The person is tall, thin, and wearing sleek black suit. They pluck a small device off the wall that the cloak had originated from and slip it into the inner breast pocket. Their face is completely obscured by a cloth mask over their mouth and nose while a black visor covers their eyes. All that can be seen of the person is their coiffed black hair.
"Young Prince," Deraj purrs, "May I introduce you to Wan Jin-ho, Praefectus Viperia. My most elite commander of the Viperia."
Wan Jin-ho walks out from the corner to stand in the room proper. Pulling up his visor and resting on top of his head, Jin-ho reveals his green light ringed cybernetic eyes to Zixin and Zhensu. The moved visor also reveals a yellow lit nodule impended into his temple. Pulling the mask down shows more of his face. The stern young face is marked on the left side with what appears to be a seam that runs from behind his ear and along his cheek bone before cutting down to his jaw where it joins another set of seams that travel down the left side of his neck and disappear under his shirt collar.
The mysterious man bows his head to Zixin and then Zhensu. Turning to the screen to face the Emperor, Jin-ho lowers himself to one knee and bows his head. With a small smirk pulling at his lips, Deraj continues, "Wan Jin-ho was recovered from a POW camp in the aftermath of failed Choson black ops mission. He was badly injured and near death. We rescued him. Fixed him. Improved him. And he has been with us ever since. Not ashamed to say he has saved my life on more than one occasion." He chuckles lightly, "For which I am very thankful." He directs at Jin-ho who bows his head lower and slams his fist to his chest in salute.
Smirking at Jin-ho for his reaction, the Emperor continues, "Wan Jin-ho has advanced knowledge in the workings of the Sheng Empire thanks to his years as a spy for the Choson. His skill in subterfuge is rivaled by few. His discipline and command of others is...inspiring." He emphasizes with an almost sadistic grin.
"Most important of all, Jin-ho has my trust." Deraj braces his hands on the arms of his chair and stands to his feet which makes him dominate over the view being projected to Zixin. Standing displays the Emperor's long shimmering black scaled floor length coat and its inner lining of glittered dark purple. He smooths his black dress inside the coat before he begins to pace. "And he has my trust to keep you in line and move this charade along." The camera follows as Deraj walks through the dimly lit room before coming upon a large table. A wave of his hand brings the table top to life and reveals an image of the Arabian Peninsula. Several dots and indicators flash and move along the earth image as Deraj braces against the table. His gold nail guards click against the glass top. "In addition to managing you, Jin-ho will manage the Viperia in Arabia going forward. Fast tracking the campaign. He will be your aide de camp on your coming military excursion. His word will carry my authority and will. So be sure to do just as he says."
Deraj returns his attention to the camera with a solid unflinching glare, emphasized by the glowing white ring of light in his right eye. "Do you understand?" He sternly asks with little room for argument.
The Polarians had gotten VERY comfortable in the Argentian airbase, a sparse few mementos of officers and soldiers alike turning into a mulitude of creature comforts that had been shipped over with logistical supply runs. The weather had truly been atrocious, so much so that the main antenna mast of the Morningstar had gotten flung off when it failed to retract during a incoming storm, knocking out the flagship of the detachment until specialist engineers came with parts to fix it. The downside of these creature comforts were them being highly Satanic artifacts, Satanic get-togethers on the top decks of their airships and all of the damned Satanic pentagrams around which one would think they were about to summon a undead battalion in the back of their accommodations.
The Polarian State had obviously been paying the full bill to keep them accommodated while overseas, finding it cheaper to keep them in Argent rather than returning them to the Motherland before having to promptly return them to Argent. Evidently, the price of keeping them in Argent this long was about to reach it's limit if they didn't do anything within a week, according to the Economic Council of the Polarian State, so as the guardsmen let Victor and co. into the officer's complex, they were welcomed into the building with such speed it seemed as if they were trying to outrun the bureaucrats back home before they could recall them.
Who could have guessed that the largest office with the most accommodating accommodations attached was the one that the Major-General in charge of the Regalia Humanitarian Regent was held up in? As the Argentian entourage and co. were lead into the part office part lounge, Major-General Holt was sat straight and leaned towards the flat-television screen on the right side of the room, the channel set to Polarian 24/7 News. Only briefly, for a mere few seconds did the newest visitors of the Polarian officer see civilians of Polaris burning down a unidentified building, waving... flags of.. red? It was hard to tell with how bright and red the fires themselves were, the television promptly being put into stand-by mode as Holt stood up with his serious expression from before completely replaced with one of utter joy.
"Why hello there! This isn't one of the scheduled weekly meetings I've... been so enjoying during our time here, so I do hope that there is good news for our soldiers." Holt spoke in the exquisite and flowery language of Polarian Latin, though briskly looking back to the two officers who were working on laptops in other chairs of the lounge who had now moved to their commander's side; this was because Chief Warrant Officer Whitehall was his translator. He lacked little knowledge of Argentian Latin still, even with the extended stay as its hard to learn a dialect when bureaucrats are gnawing at your metaphorical ankles. "Our forces are fully adapted to Argentian assets available to us and ready for any marching orders, though unfortunate for our schedules, the bad weather was made for the time and conditions for some TLC training-wise, as well as a additional engineering battalion being sent due to the unfortunate mishap with the Morningstar..." he sounded chipper for certain, but his tone felt less like a giddy Golden Retriever who would do anything for the Argentians, and more of a pragmatic Satanic who was promised the ability to liberate oppressed peoples and really really would like to get to that over anything else.
The Major-General's smile grew as he let the entourage respond, arms behind his back as he hoped he did not give out the previous spiel just to be told to f**k off out of Argent territory and back to Polaris.
Barron Trump approached the stage, taking his place at the podium. A hush fell over the crowd as he cleared his throat then began to speak;
"First I want to say a big thank you to all of you who came out today. I'm sure we all know why I am here today, right? Today our nation is stronger than it has been in nearly a hundred years thanks to the work of President Jackson Graham. But our work here is far from over. Decades ago my father once served as president of this great nation as the 45th president. During his time in office, he spoke at great length about the left-wing of the country, and their continued efforts to allow feelings and emotions get in the way of proven legislation that will continue to make this country great. Unfortunately, I am here today to tell you that not much has changed in the subsequent years. Today the Democrats and their sycophants are stopping us from finally bringing the province of Canda fully into the preview of the Union. Right now there are many people in Canada who want full integration. It is long past time. We want full integration and we want it now.
On top of that, the Democratic party wants to create disastrous trade deals with countries like Polaris that have done nothing but take advantage of us for so long. We get these left-wing nutjobs into office and suddenly Polaris starts working on ways they can take advantage of us because they know how weak the Dems are. They honestly laugh at us. Have you ever heard the leader of Polaris talk about America? Honestly, have you heard the disrespect? It has to stop and as president..." As he uttered those words, the large crowd that had gathered in Central Park in New York began to erupt into applause. "When I am president, we will not be taken advantage of, we will not be bullied into silence by the fascist left, we will be respected by all, loved by our allies and feared by our enemies. There is a lot we have to do and we cannot allow the left to continue to drag this country down. That is why today, I am proud to announce my candidacy for president of these United States. Thank you."
The stereos around the park began to play "Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen as Trump's family joined him on stage, waving to the crowd, before making their way down to the rope line. Barron shook hands and took selfies with supporters as he made his way back to his limo.
"General!" Victor greeted with a bow, his hand rigidly placed over his heart as salute, and a wide grin on his face. "Always a pleasure. Have I mentioned yet that I enjoy what your men have done to the place." He mentions referring to the satanic symbolism that is now strewn across the Polarian Quarter. "Should rename this Satan's quarter."
Victor chuckled to himself as he removed his wide brim hat; revealing his rooster tail like coiffed up hair. He runs his gloved hand through his purposefully messy hair before continuing, "This is not a social call I most lament to state, my friend." He sarcastically announces. He himself loathed the meetings. Not because of the Polarians, but because he just despised being stuck sitting in one place listening to chatter about weather, troop movements, and the like. He'd much rather take a quiet nap or watch a fight or plan an assassination. What he'd really like is to be back in Zevezda enjoying the comforts of the Emperor's apartments.
"In fact actuallY, I have news that you should find quite exhilarating." Victor said with his cheeky smirk. "Marching orders!"
With the looming presence of the Khan with him, Victor decided an introduction was in order. "Before I delve into the nitty gritty of it all, allow me the pleasure of introducing you to this oriental amazonian. Major General Holt, this is Batzorig, Great Khan of the Steppe and leader of Tam Amisgal." Looking at Batzorig and gesturing to Holt, "Batzorig, this is of course Major General Holt of Greater Polaris."
Victor allows Holt and Batzorig a chance to converse in greeting and give the Major General a second to absorb the good news.
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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.