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| Death of a Grand Prince | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 3 2014, 01:51 AM (275 Views) | |
| Santa Colona | Dec 3 2014, 01:51 AM Post #1 |
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Principality of Santa Colona
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"My son..." The dying monarch lay on his bed, various covers draped over his body and tube running into his arms and nose. It was a sad sight to see for his son, who stood next to the bed, grasping its iron rail with intent and despair. "You must continue the reforms I set in place," the tiring man wheezed, grasping Leopoldo's hand tightly, "for the good of the nation." A single tear rolled down Leopoldo's face, passing over his lips and wetting his stubble. He looked into the half-open grey eyes of the man who laid before him. His head was bald and liver-spotted, his hand bony and cold. The once-great monarch lay so vulnerable, so old in that bed, and Leopoldo felt pity, anger, and frustration. Why did he have to die during such turbulent times? Why leave him as the heir to the Zimbardi family and candidate in the elections to be held soon? Could he handle such a task, his campaign? These thoughts rushed through his head as he grasped his dying father's hand, and barely caught the whisper leaking from the lips of the body on the bed. "Beware..." Leopoldo leaned in closer to catch the last parts of the sentence. "Beware Enrico. He is dangerous." Leopoldo felt a chill running down his spine. Enrico had been a close family friend for as long as he could remember. He was his father's right-hand man, a counselor and mentor of Leopoldo when he was growing up. His father must be hallucinating; what he was saying didn't make sense. Suddenly, the hand reached up and grabbed Leopoldo's shirt by the frills, pulling him in closer. The doctors standing at the corners of the room hopped forward to hold the dying man down. "Beware, my son!" The hand suddenly released him, a doctor jamming his arm down to the table, and the heart monitor to the right of the bed hit a flatline. Leopoldo began to choke on his tears, coming in full after holding them back for the past three days he'd been in the hospital room. One last glance at the closed eyes of the frail corpse lying on the bed was enough to drive him out of the room, as doctors pulled a bodybag over his head. "11:59 am, Grand Prince Leopoldo II passes away," a blue-clad figure mumbled to himself as he jotted down something on the notepad he was holding. Leopoldo rushed from the room, and half-jogged down the hallway to the double doors. The only thought on his mind was the future, and what it had in store. TO BE CONTINUED |
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| Santa Colona | Dec 4 2014, 12:12 AM Post #2 |
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PART II Rain fell, and the constant patter of it echoed throughout the park as it was deflected off of the black funeral umbrellas. Leopoldo stood under one of these umbrellas, his wife on one arm and shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother Orlando on the other. He glanced around at the crowd, Enrico standing exactly opposite him as the haze of the afternoon shadow obscured his view of the entire entourage. "We gather you here today to witness the burial of Leopoldo Zimbardi and remember his name and the legacy he left behind," the preacher's voice fought against the downpour. Leopoldo the Younger felt tears streaming down his face, trying to stifle the occasional sniffle along with the rest of the procession. He turned to his wife, her beautiful blonde hair falling in curls around his shoulders, radiant and beautiful compared to the depressing scene before him. He managed a smile as his wife turned to him, her mascara running down her pristine cheeks. "He was a great ruler, a great general, and most importantly of all, a great man..." Leopoldo tuned out the babbling of the preacher, and turned his thoughts to those last moments by his father's side. He remembered those grey eyes looking up at him with love and concern and fear all mixed in to one, and the endless unanswered questions cycling through his head. How would he continue his father's economic reforms, when they obviously angered the members of the Lords' Assembly? Before that, would he even get elected? What could he do to ensure his place on the Velvet Chair? Why should he be wary of Enrico, his mentor and second father since birth? He glanced again across the crowd at Enrico, the large man standing in his staple burgundy suit, white tie, and black shades. His grey-white hair was cropped close, in the Vinci military fashion, and his broad shoulders gave him an imposing stance. However, this scene was contrasted by his dainty, platinum-haired wife who leaned her head on his shoulder. Enrico noticed his gaze, and returned it with a warm smile, so characteristic of the fatherly figured etched in Leopoldo's mind. Leopoldo glanced back at the robe-clad preacher, who seemed to be finishing up his wooden speech so characteristic of Vinci funerals. Leopoldo stepped out from under his wife's umbrella into the rain and briskly stalked up to the black coffin made damp by the continuous downpour. As he parted the crowd to get to the coffin, he received many light pats on the back and whispered condolences by the various attendees, and even a rose pushed into his hand by Enrico's shy daughter. He looked at her and those beautiful doe eyes as she shyly smiled at him. He did his best to smile at her, a little warmth flowing into his heart through her soft hand and that rose he held in his fingers. Yet, he trudged on through the crowd and approached the stand on which the coffin rested. The closed coffin stood before him, and he reached out to place a veined hand on its surface. His father was gone. Dead. He still had so many questions, so much responsibility. It became too much to handle, and he could feel tears welling in his eyes. He turned away, his hand still on the coffin, as he choked out his last goodbyes to the body that was once his father. His wife suddenly appeared next to him, placing her hand on his and intertwining her fingers into his. He looked at her, and she smiled a sad smile. There was so much more to come, and there would be no more time to waste. |
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| Santa Colona | Dec 11 2014, 04:01 AM Post #3 |
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PART III Leopoldo pushed the large oaken doors that lead to the assembly room, and he was hit with a wall of sound ranging from overlapping voices to the banging of fists on the wooden rows of tables lining the chamber. He entered, the crystalline chandelier casting eerie shadows on the gold-adorned walls of the massive room, filled with a dull roar of debate. He walked towards the front of the room through the carpeted alleyways between the tables, his leather shoes making a dull thunk against the satin carpet with each heavy step. The more he walked, the more faces turned to look at him, and the quieter the room got until, when he arrived at the seven seats for the major families that sat at the front of the assembly chamber, there was not a single sound as the entire room's eyes were fixed on him. He took quick steps across the front of the room, aware of the stares he was attracting. He glanced at the six families, and saw Enrico give him a friendly smile along with the solemn faces of the other five representatives. He sat in the cushioned chair with a creak, facing the entire room and the sea of eyes that were looking at him intently. He gave a curt nod, and looked down at the files he placed on the desk in front of him, among them the speech he was prepared to give for the upcoming election process. The room suddenly burst into noise, minor family members debating among themselves once again as if an invisible wall had collapsed, and he could catch snippets of conversations from some of the voices that were prominent in cavernous assembly chamber. "I hope he's okay..." "I heard his father was poisoned!" "My district's profits have plummeted since the reforms our late prince put in place. I'm afraid we won't be able to recover." "I honestly don't know who I should vote for..." Suddenly, his concentration was broken by the rough voice that was Enrico Dandolo's. "We should get this underway, huh?" Leopoldo looked down at the gavel in his hand. He had forgotten that, now that his father was dead, he was head of the Lord's Assembly until a new Grand Prince was elected. He debated what he should do. Historically, there were times when the Assembly went years without electing a monarch, and the Speaker of the Assembly remained in power until some event would push the minor families to elect a head. There was one special case, he remembered from history class in college, in which the Speaker of the Assembly, Petruzzo Carlini, the head of a now-extinct major family, held power as the Speaker for almost thirty years by delaying the election process through pure cunning and favors for the minor families until his ill health required him to retire, ending his indefinite postponement of the vote and eventually destroying his descendant's credibility. Although he was able to pass many progressive policies through the Assembly, he was known as Petruzzo IX "the Snake" from then on. Leopoldo banged the gavel on the pad to silence the Assembly, deciding to start the election process right away and face his inevitable defeat. His father, though socially progressive, passed many edicts limiting the reach of large companies and supporting unions for the first time in one hundred years. He was popular among the common men, no doubt, but he was despised by the minor families of Venucci, and was only able to stay in power through wartime victories and the endless string-pulling of Enrico. Therefore, it was his conclusion that he would come last in the election race, and that one of the representatives from the six other families would end up victorious. Besides, if he were to be elected somehow, he would be the youngest Grand Prince to be ever elected, and in a society where seniority was a definite advantage, the odds of a victory looked pretty slim as the expressionless faces of the minor families before him seemed to affirm. "We're going to move directly into voting procedure," he said, the room's architecture resonating his voice with hardly any effort. "All note-passing and discussion must cease, and no one may enter or leave the room for the duration of the vote." As he said this, the Assembly guards rushed to close the massive oaken doors with a loud creak, and everything was quiet. Leopoldo glanced around the chamber, observing that most of the minor family representatives were looking intently at Enrico, and Enrico had his steely gaze locked on to Leopoldo himself. Feeling uncomfortable, he continued to speak. "We will now here speeches from the seven major families, beginning with Antonio Constanzo." The speeches each went by like a blur, Leopoldo making sure to take note of the amount of applause each speaker received. So far, each oration acquired moderate responses from the minor families, typical of an election of the Assembly. Usually, only one orator would receive a significant ovation, and the election was usually decided then, the rest only carried out as pleasantries. By this time, there were only two speakers left. Enrico stood and made a round to the front of the tables, ensuring proximity to the Assembly and a dramatic effect. It was traditional for the current Speaker to deliver his speech last, as had been the tradition since the founding of the nation almost two thousand years ago. Leopoldo was lost in thought, hardly paying attention to the gravely voice of Enrico, though his ears perked up as the oration began to heat up and Enrico began to speak with vigor only ever seen on the Assembly floor. "...and thus, I'd like to retract my candidacy from the elections, and ask my supporters to back the current Speaker, Leopoldo Zimbardi! My reasons for doing so are many, but I'll summarize them as best I can. Despite the various reforms passed by the late Grand Prince, he was a great man. He made sure that the people's voices could be heard over the pomp and tradition so akin to our society. Now, he will have most definitely have passed this on to his son sitting here today, and we need this quality in our monarchs. We cannot merely allow ourselves to get lost in the grandeur of our Assembly, we must make sure that the people are taken care of, as these people are the backbone of our nation, and we are merely the head that guides it. I ask for your support, one more time, not for me but for him. He will bring our nation to greatness, and he will guide us to glory, as his father did. Thank you." Enrico turned to the panel, nodding to Leopoldo as he approached his seat. There was a general air of shock sitting heavily on the shoulders of the families that sat in front of them. Many had predicted Enrico to be the winner of the election by a landslide, and now that he was withdrawing from the race chaos reigned in the chamber. It suddenly erupted into heated debate, yelling, and shoe-banging as representatives clamored to have their voice heard over the din of the chamber. Leopoldo glanced around the room in a panic, and saw many faces contorted in disbelief and disgust. Yet, as soon as the din began, it silenced, and a chant began to emerge from the apparent disorder. "Con-stan-zo!" "Con-stan-zo!" "Con-stan-zo!" Fists began to beat on the tables in time with the chant, the union of voices growing louder and louder as more joined in the disruption. Antonio's face was pure triumph, Leopoldo noted as he banged his gavel furiously on the desktop before him. "Silence! Silence!" The din eventually quieted down as Leopoldo tried to wrestle order to the madhouse of a room. "We only have one more speaker," he said quietly as the last of the chanting disappeared. He stood slowly from his seat and approached the front of the panel of major families, facing the general assembly in front of him, full of frowning, concentrating faces. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and began to speak. "My father was the best man I ever knew. Now, I know he passed a lot for reforms, limiting your businesses and economic growth of your districts, but he did not do it with the intention to destroy you. He did it to look out for the people, as Enrico said. He did it so, unlike the previous monarchs before us, people could have a chance to live a decent life. After all, a government's job is to endure the well-being of the people, but how can he do that with no minimum wage laws and no worker's rights? We can't. My decisions my be unpopular, but I will stick by these reforms until my last breath. That is what a monarch should be, not a simple greedy pig keeping everything for himself. A monarch is benevolent, and I intend to do just that. That is all I have to say." Leopodo turned to his seat, aware that his speech was short and quite unpopular, so he kept his head down as he sat on the wooden seat in front of his desk. There was a creak, then silence as he situated himself. There was a singular clap, and then another, and then another until the individual claps snowballed into an avalanche of noise. Leopoldo looked up from his notes, and was flabbergasted to find that he had received a standing ovation. Every single representative was standing, clapping, and shouting as the other six families looked up at him in shock. Leopoldo himself was shocked, eyes wide as he observed the scene before him. *** "The final vote," Leopoldo trembled as he pulled the parchment apart, breaking the wax seal without caution, "has arrived. The winner, by a historically unanimous vote is..." Leopoldo's voice caught in his throat as he saw the name scribbled hastily in long, slanted letters on the stationery. He looked up, tears forming in his eyes, as every single ear in the assembly was trained on Leopoldo's wavering voice. "Leopoldo Zimbardi!" The chamber erupted into cheers as Leopoldo stood, pleased yet perplexed at the same time. He has won an election unanimously, the first time since 1630 with the election of Leonardo di Ylvio, when he ran unopposed during the Fifth Trade War. He was now also the youngest Grand Prince to ever be elected, which confused him even more since he would normally be regarded as inexperienced and nubile when compared to his competition. Despite his mixed feelings of confusion and resentment, he was also elated. He glanced happily at Enrico, who gladly returned the smile, and saw from the corner of his eye the dainty figure of his wife running towards him. He turned just to catch her as she embraced him, both of them feeling the festivity of the occasion. He kissed the top of her head, relishing her blonde hair and the smell of her perfume, as he looked up at the minor representatives breaking out into song and dance. The guards standing within the room rushed to open the doors, and waiters carrying silver platters of food ruched in to serve the hungry patrons. According to tradition, the next week would be full of festivities. Leopoldo was ecstatic, but there was something nagging him, telling him that this whole thing was a farce. He chose to ignore it for the time being, opening himself up to the compliments and pats on the back, and the jolliness of the week to come. TO BE CONTINUED |
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| Sviardia-Nordrvegria | Dec 12 2014, 02:39 AM Post #4 |
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Dicktator Dimi
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Edited by Sviardia-Nordrvegria, Dec 12 2014, 02:40 AM.
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![]() His Royal Majesty, King Oscar III 'Deus et Dies' By the Grace of God, King of Sviardia and Nordrvegria, King of the Goths, the Geats and the Wends | |
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| Bruvalkia | Dec 14 2014, 04:11 PM Post #5 |
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| Santa Colona | Jan 8 2015, 12:03 AM Post #6 |
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PART IV It had been almost two months since Leopoldo's coronation, and he was already swamped in paperwork and letters from the various minor families requesting trade rights and other favors from the new government. He sat at the ancient oaken desk, finishing his signature on a resolution raising tariffs in the colonies with his father's fountain pen, the only thing left to him in the old man's will. Everything else, including the considerable fortune and the family mansion was left to his younger brother Orlando, often referred to by the countless Vinci media outlets as the "Drunken Prince" due to his alcoholism and tendency to stupid things in front of cameras. It was a shame that Orlando wasted his considerable wealth, intelligence, and good-looks on such trivial things. In fact, he was on the news last night due to drunken public fornication with one of his countless girlfriends, and it had cost Leopold a small fortune out of his own pocket to pay the private outlets to shut up about it. There was a knock on the door, and it swung open without haste. Enrico stormed into the room, a crumpled paper bared in one hand and a jeweled cane furiously poking about in the other. Leopoldo's secretary came stumbling after the large man, fork in hand. "Sir, I'm so sorry! He just walked by and I was eating my salad..." "It's quite alright," Leopoldo smiled at the blonde woman reassuringly, and she turned back towards to door. Enrico dragged a seat from the wall to the desk, leaning his cane on the wall. "Leopoldo, this is quite enough," Enrico growled, flattening the paper from his hand on the desk. It was a resolution he has signed himself, Leopoldo saw, that authorized government officials to confiscate any shipments of wine that did not have the accompanying tax paperwork. "Our nation prides itself on it's unhindered market," Enrico complained gruffly, "and these new laws do nothing to help that. You need to stop this." "I can't," Leopoldo smiled warmly, "I made a promise that I would continue my father's policies, and I intend to keep my word. "Leopoldo, the Assembly elected you to uphold our ancient tradition and improve the economy as well. I know your father favored big government, but you are not him. You can change what he did." "Enrico, the government has never had so much money before as it does today. This is a great thing for the nation." "No, it isn't. The point of the government is to ensure trade continues between the minor families and the nations of Noverra. You don't need money." "With this money, we can expand the police force and crack down on criminals. We can raise an army, so we don't have to keep contracting Ronaldo's company." "That's the point. The government makes money for the minor families, and the minor families provide for the government." "Enrico, that's the way it's always been. Don't you think that it's time to change?" "No, Leopoldo. All we have is tradition, and look how far it's gotten us. Changing now will lead us into uncharted territory, and probably dangerous territory too. "Enrico, I need to work. If you still want to talk about this, you can phone me or send a telegram to my secretary." "My daughter, you mean?" "We are in a professional environment, Enrico. Do not forget that I am your Grand Prince. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some paperwork to finish." Enrico stayed rooted in his chair, disbelieving at Leopoldo's rude dismissal of him. After all Enrico had done for him, raising him, acting as a father to him, helping him win the elections that he was so surely going to lose, and Leopoldo dismissed him with the flick of a wrist. Enrico had hoped that Leopoldo would be easy to control, but it seemed like this would not be the case. Enrico angrily stood from the chair, not even drawing a glance from the now-preoccupied Leopoldo, and stormed out of the room. His daughter stood quickly from the receptionist desk, and quickly sat down when she noticed the mood her father was in. Leopoldo looked up after a long while, the glass doors to the palace slamming shut with alarming force. He hadn't meant to make Enrico angry, but Enrico's assumption that Leopoldo could be controlled through pep talks irked him. Perhaps he was over-thinking the whole situation. Enrico had practically raised him, and he did owe Enrico a huge favor for what happened on election day. Still, he could not deviate from his morals. He wanted to help the people, and halt the monopolies that threatened their well-being. It was going to be tough, but Leopoldo was sure he could pull off such a drastic stunt. His thought were interrupted by giggling from the lobby, and the familiar whisper of Orlando to one of his many lovers. "I'll be right back," he heard, and the doors to his office slowly opened, revealing a slightly-drunk Orlando. "Hey, Leo." Orlando stood in the large doorway, supporting himself on the beams. A wave of stench hit Leopoldo, a mixture of alcohol and cologne. Leopoldo scrunched up his nose at the smell, observing the wavering man at the door. Orlando was tall, built, and very handsome. He had close-cropped golden hair and dark green eyes, brown stubble and a straight jawline like marble. He was a sex symbol in Venucci, but also a good example of what wealth and corruption can do to a politician. He was very grim now, contrary to his almost constant smile. "I'm busy, Orlando. You don't have to thank me for covering your ass. Just don't do it again." "I'm not here for that," Orlando whispered, surprising Leopoldo. Orlando never whispered unless he had something big on his mind, but then again it could be a prank that Orlando was so prone to pulling. "Get out. You're stinking up the office." "We need to talk." "Make it quick, then. I don't have all day," Leopoldo reluctantly looked up at the sad eyes, and Orlando stumbled over to the seat Enrico had left behind. "Dad died recently." "Jesus," Leopoldo sighed under his breath, looking back down at his work. He didn't want to think about his father's death. "No, listen. How old was Dad when he died?" "He was fifty-six, Orlando. Now get out." "Listen to me!" The sudden outburst startled Leopoldo. Orlando held a stapler in his hand, his knuckles white. He was panting, looking into Leopoldo's eyes with an almost reckless abandon. "You will listen to me, and I will say what I need to." Leopoldo leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs as he prepared to listen to one of Orlando's stupid rants. "Dad was too young to die. He was only fifty-six, but he looked like an old man. Isn't there something weird about that?" Leopoldo shook his head, leaning forward. "Not at all. Now get out if you're done. I have important stuff to deal with." "You don't understand!" Orlando leaned forward, fear in his eyes. Leopoldo leaned forward to meet his whisper. "Leo, Dad was murdered." TO BE CONTINUED |
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| Santa Colona | Jan 14 2015, 01:29 AM Post #7 |
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PART V Leopoldo stepped up to the wooden podium, his footsteps echoing throughout the cavernous meeting hall. Cameras flashed, most of Venucci's private news outlets present at the emergency press conference. He looked out over the crowded room, full of reporters and minor family representatives alike. He grasped the podium with his hands, his knuckles white with the force of the grip. He could see his reflection on the polished wood, and he noted that he looked tired. His hair had grayed over the past two months, despite him being only 28 years old. He had been working hard, organizing an international sporting committee meeting, ensuring that imports from the numerous colonies were arriving on time, and managing his own trade company all at the same time. His brother refused to help, preferring to throw wild parties in the family mansion and burning through the income that Leopoldo struggled to reel in from the nightmarish bureaucratic hierarchy of the aptly-named Standard Shipping Corporation, his family's company founded in 1217. He glanced down at the speech he had prepared, and began to speak. "I called this emergency press conference today to inform the nation of a tragic incident that happened a while ago. As you all know, my father died almost two months ago, and I was fortunate enough to succeed him as Grand Prince. However, his death was untimely." He could tell that the journalists and representatives were interested, as many were visibly leaning in to hear him speak over the snapping of cameras and the hum of recorders. He leaned in closer to the array of microphones attached to the podium, most of them owned by different subsidiaries of the Republican Media Company, under the financial control of Enrico and the Dandolo family. He took a deep breath and continued to speak. "My father was assassinated, killed by radiation poisoning unbeknownst to the doctors at the time. Further investigation has revealed that his death was caused by a rare isotope of the element polonium-210." There was a loud clamoring as all the reporters in the room stood up as if in unison, each spouting a different question about the recent revelation. The increased amount of flashes coming from the cameras hurt his eyes, but Leopoldo forced himself to continue. "There will be time for questions after the conference. Now, there is no reason to be concerned at this time. I have decided to create a commission of major family representatives to look in to this incident. Rest assured that, as soon as the commission comes across something of importance, I will inform the nation at once." There was a sudden shout from the audience, as a reporter blurted out a question. "Who will be heading the commission?" Leopoldo leaned in to the microphones, looking directly at the reporter who was now eagerly poised to scribble the answer into his notebook. "I have decided that patrician Enrico will be heading the commission, as I have known him for most of my life, and he is a second father to me." Leopoldo quickly stepped down from the podium after answering the question, his bodyguards forming a tight square around him. Reporters fell onto the throng in waves, Leopoldo's ears being assaulted by endless questions from every direction. He would have a lot to answer for, and he was eager to see what the commission was going to reveal. |
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| Santa Colona | Feb 1 2015, 08:24 PM Post #8 |
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The explosion could be heard from several miles away, and it was made even more audible by the speakers positioned around the launch control room. Leopoldo stood paralyzed in horror as the spectacle on-screen unfolded before his eyes. The COLUMBUS V rocket, the first in a series of missions to put a man on Mars, exploded on the launchpad in a fiery storm of metal and rocket fuel. It was presumed that all five astronauts on board, one a teacher at one of the local elementary schools, had died in the catastrophe. Hundreds of millions of dollars, many of which had been invested by Standard Shipping, had gone down the drain, he realized. The rest of the money, a combination of investments from national and international companies, had been wasted. It was all a blur in Leopoldo's head, the explosion and the days following it. He could only piece together a couple thoughts and blips from the previous days, but it was made abundantly clear by his PR adviser that his approval ratings among the population had dropped from an all-time high of 89% to a mere 15%. Even worse, his approval rating among the minor families of the Lord's Assembly had reached rock bottom, a whopping 0% approval rating. He remembered seeing news reports of the incident, the most outstanding coming from the Republican Media Company, which denounced his use of tax money on Cold War-era dreams and his apparent arbitrary attitude towards government spending. The most shocking had been a speech by his mentor, Enrico, whose company had mysteriously opted out of investing in the space program, which remained etched in his brain. "When we elected Leopoldo, we did not expect anything close to what is happening now. He continues to ruin the economy through extraordinary taxes and useless programs such as this new "space program" and "international sporting committee" that have no benefit to the general well-being of the people. In fact, the GDP of our great Commonwealth has fallen by 2% within only two months of Leopoldo being elected! The quality of life for workers and employers alike has dropped dramatically, and Leopoldo continues to destroy our economy! We must stop this, and I propose an impeachment trial to be voted upon during the next meeting of the Lord's Assembly! We urge the good people of Venucci to stay calm during this time of economic crisis, as it will be resolved shortly!" None of this was, in fact, true. Venucci's GDP continued to increase at it's regular rate, but more money was being taken from the rich and given to the extremely poor through welfare programs. Not only this, but Venucci's HDI was at an all-time high, almost 0.93 due to the increased attention given to the slums of the city and the decrease in crime due to the newly-founded state police. However, the Conservative Industrial Group in the Lord's Assembly headed by Enrico led the majority, and the impeachment trial was sure to come. People were protesting in the street and there had been several fires started by CIG loyalists. Leopoldo could feel that his term in office was coming to an end very soon. |
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| Santa Colona | Mar 3 2015, 12:44 AM Post #9 |
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"The Lord's Assembly convenes today to supervise the impeachment trial of Grand Prince Leopoldo III Zimbardi," Enrico stood at the podium, speaking through the various microphones embedded into the wooden platform. Of course, almost all of them were RMC-owned or operated by RMC subsidiaries, and he was sure the editing staff back at the studio would be able to polish off the segments in time for tonight's news. He could only imagine the headlines, "GRAND PRINCE FOUND GUILTY, ENRICO DANDOLO ASSUMES OFFICE!" He cleared his head, focusing on the sea of faces in front of him. "Leopoldo III Zimbardi has been brought to trial today, voted upon by the Lord's Assembly. Charges levied by the major families include failure to faithfully execute the law, improper conduct, obstruction of justice, corruption, and perjury. Charges levied by minor families include violation of trade agreements, illegal taxation, overstepping of executive bounds, illegal use of police, illegal use of navy, illegal use of army, failure to properly execute office, and abuse of power." "Jesus," Leopoldo's lawyer whispered into his ear, his hot breath causing Leopoldo to pull away in discomfort. He glanced to the right and saw Orlando tensed up nervously on the cushioned seat next to Leopoldo's wife. He then glanced at the jury panel, all of which were seated behind a wooden railing. "And with that," Enrico was finishing up his speech, all the while grinning in Leopoldo's direction, "the trial will commence. Preceding the two sides will be Judge Arnoldo Stepani of Stepani Legal Consulting, LLC. All rise!" Arnoldo Stepani was a fat man, and quite pompous at that. His family had been in law since the founding of the Republic, and were regarded as the best (and most expensive) lawyers in Noverra. *** The trial was mostly a blur, and Leopoldo hardly remembered being up at the podium. All he could think about was the recent reforms he passed and the tax break he had instituted only two days prior in hopes of winning over the hearts of the populace. It was them, in the form of fifteen jurors, that would ultimately decide his fate. "Did you, or did you not institute a policy supporting a state-sponsored police force?" "I did." "Are you aware that this is strictly forbidden in the Articles?" "I am." "May I ask why you did this, then?" "People were dying, and it is my duty to protect them," Leopoldo answered matter-of-factly. "No more questions, your Honor." As the prosecuting lawyer approached the plaintiff's table, he received a few claps and pats on the back in congratulations from nearby minor representatives. "It is now time for the jury to decide," Arnoldo growled round his four chins. *** The jury came back into the courtroom within five minutes, and Leopoldo knew for sure they were going to vote him guilty. His reforms ahden't had time to fully take effect, and the sentence for misuse of power was public execution. Leopoldo swallowed slowly, staring intently at the jury foreman. "The jury has come to a conclusion. We find the defendant..." The entire room leaned in, awaiting that fatal word. "Innocent!" |
![]() Principality of Santa Colona Crowned Prince Bakar I Falkasantos First of His Name Head of the Reformed Colonese Church Defender of the Faith Savior of the Basque People Protector of the Realm Crowned Prince of Santa Colona and Her Colonies | |
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| Santa Colona | Mar 7 2015, 12:22 AM Post #10 |
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Principality of Santa Colona
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"Hello, citizens of our Noble Commonwealth! I come to you today to inform you of several policies I have decided to institute in light of my recent acquittal during the recent impeachment trial. Firstly, I would like to announce that a new package of tax breaks will be sent to the Assembly within the week, as the government has accumulated quite a surplus. Secondly, I'd like to announce the deployment of CDLC troops to our colonies in an effort to expand our influence over the currently unoccupied spaces of Noverra. This will eventually have countless economic benefits in the future. Thirdly, the Assembly has unanimously voted, with my urging, to approve the shipment of weapons and monetary support to the Legantian state of Lero in an attempt to guarantee their neutrality in the ensuing civil war, as well as protect our considerable trade interests in the area. Lastly, previous legislation regarding trade regulations and goods taxation have been repealed by the Lord's Assembly as a condition of my acquittal last week. Thank you all for your support, and remain faithful. Although this is the first time troops have been deployed to the colonies since the Fourth Bruvalkian Trade War, things will get better. God bless the Assembly, and God bless the UCV!" The green light on the film camera blinked red, and a bell echoed throughout the studio, signalling the end of the broadcast. Technicians rushed around the room, checking cameras and removing props from the walls of the executive office. Leopoldo stood from the leather desk chair, wiping television make-up from his face and handing his speech to the secretary standing by his desk. Enrico approached the desk, smiling at Leopoldo. "That was good," he said in his gruff voice, stroking his grey stubble. "Thanks, Enrico. I bet you enjoyed the part about trade regulations," Leopoldo sighed. "Immensely," Enrico grinned. Ever since the impeachment trial, Enrico and Leopoldo had made up best they could. Enrico explained that he was just worried about the economy and flow of money. Leopoldo decided that he understood, and had generally accepted Enrico's apology as well as recognizing a statement written by the Lord's Assembly pretty much admitting their error after the impeachment trial. All in all, Leopoldo felt everything was getting better and better. Enrico even invited him along with other major family members to a ball he was hosting in the Dandolo mansion. However, there was still legislation to pass and foreign policy to manage. He drafted some already, and had already sent a letter to Lero informing them of the Assembly's decision. All he had to do now was publicize the letter declaring Venucci's intent to annex "white-space" into Vinci colonies in central Gilead and Suran.
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8:14 AM Jul 11