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95X Explanation for Absence
Posted: Dec 7 2007, 12:48 AM
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Warning - If you have a weak stomach and have just eaten something, you might not want to read this RP right now. You've been warned.

The fighting was over.

Blake stood in the middle of what was once one of the busiest streets in 95X. He didn't need to worry for his personal safety, as there was no traffic. Not a pedestrian, vehicle, or anyone else in sight.

Around him stood the ruins of what was once Pacific City, the capital and largest city of 95X. Not much was left except the mangled remains of 100-story buildings, the office and residential towers that once housed the well-off, wealthy, and those who thought they were. They fled when the fighting began.

"At long last," he thought to himself, "we won."

He then thought of the events leading up to this moment.

Two years ago, the poor and oppressed, who long suffered under decades of rule by profit-minded corporations, who essentially controlled the government and pocketed as much as they could for themselves, finally stood up and said "no."

When the government tried to legislate forcing people to purchase finished goods from corporations, and prohibiting people from growing their own food and making their own clothing and wares, the first bomb went off, at a corporate headquarters.

More followed.

Millions fled to other countries near and far, fearing for their safety. Nobody quite knew where anyone else was going - they were scared of exposing their family to either the "corporate controlists" or the "citizen raiders." Some families were even split up for good.

With Pacific City bombed out and cleared out, and the official national government shut down, the war against corporations continued. The other cities, which remained mostly intact, formed loose associations to govern themselves, and even looser pacts between each other. Citizens explained to each other what they needed, decided who would produce what necessity, and when it was produced, they bartered food and goods they created themselves among each other. Nobody - they were told under corporate rule - could make it work with the population density 95X had.

Blake, reassuring himself that it was over, was quick to spot movement from behind one of the ruins. He quickly drew his automatic machine gun, cautiously and quietly approaching.

When he reached where the movement came from, he readied his firearm for what he thought could be another battle, when the clicks of safety mechanism gave his position away.

Before he could turn and fire, a desperate man's voice gruffingly yells from behind the jagged remains of a wall, "don't shoot! I give up - I'm alone - I'm unarmed..."

As the voice says this, Blake draws back his gun, turns and sees an older man with graying hair dressed in what's left of a suit that's true to what he was saying. It's clear he hasn't eaten much in a very long time.

"... I want to live."

Blake safties his gun, and puts it back behind his shoulder.

"This part of the city's been in ruins for almost two years now," Blake says, "how did you survive?"

"I was once a bum that somehow struck it rich," the man replies. "I knew how to survive with nothing. Now, I have even less then when I was a bum before. But I still have my life. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away."

"But, there's no food anywhere around here," Blake continues to question, "and our forces have patrolled the area for months. I don't understand-"

"Ah," the man interrupts, "you kids ever heard of bunkers?"

Blake thought the man was feeding him a line, or this was an ambush. The man pointed to what looked like an opening in the ground amidst the rubble.

"I didn't like about not having a gun," the man said, reading Blake's facial expressions. "I'm not lying now."

Blake cautiously approached the opening - sure enough, there was a ladder to what looked like a landing about fifteen feet below. He was surprised it wasn't covered over in the rubble, like just about everything else was.

Sure enough, at the landing there were several opened high-security doors with electronic locks, and an extremely long stairwell that went deep below. At the end of all of this, sure enough, was a combination bomb shelter and bunker.

It wasn't designed for just anyone - it was very clear it was for members of 95X's old government.

"I designed it," the man said, "that's how I knew it was here. The government folks ran off before they could get to it first."

Blake walks up to a door, which was closed.

"No use going in there," the man calmly says, "there's a dead corpse in there."

"A WHAT?!" Blake jumps.

"Yeah one of the government guys made it down here, two years ago. He didn't make it."

Blake, now fearing the man, looked like he'd had enough.

"Y-Y-You..." he stuttered.

"No," the man cut Blake off again. "He was dead when I got here."

Blake had to see who it was, he opened the door. Sure enough, what was left of a body was on the ground, fully clothed, face-down. He used the barrel of his gun to turn over the body, and found a handwritten note beneath.

It said:

"I cannot think of living in such a place any longer. I hope Julie and the kids get out. I could never look them in the face and think they'd love me ever again.

"Goodbye world, Richard."

"Richard Walterson," Blake said. "Goodbye and good riddance."

Blake quickly noticed the room was also the food storage, which was empty. The man expained he carefully used the supply until it was gone.

Both quickly exited for the outside world right afterward.

"Name's Tony Uppenhauser," the man finally revealed. "I figured there was a reason to keep living."

"Yeah," Blake coldly explains, "well, you're not going to do much more of it unless you leave here. I'm going back to our outpost near University City, it's the only ride you have any chance of getting out alive using. If you try anything, though, I will kill you."

"No," Mr. Uppenhauser replies, "I'm not going to do anything to you. I would like the ride to civilization, though."

Both get into Blake's 4-by-4, Blake starts the ignition as Mr. Uppenhauser asks:

"What's your name, kind sir?"

"Blake," he says. "I don't have a last name - everyone calls me Blake."

It was partially true - his family sided with the corporatists, and he defected, never revealing his last name to anyone.

"But," Blake contradicts, making up a new last name. "I guess I do now. Blake Jones."

The 4-by-4 speeds toward University City, home of the main forces of the citizen raiders.

OOC: Like it would've been anyone's idea to be practically conscripted to help deliver newspapers several days a week, along with a full college schedule, and being "asked" to look for permanent work. I'm back now. Hopefully, for a while. Not affected at all by the flooding that just happened close by in this part of the world. I hope everyone's OK in that regard. I wouldn't have signed up for the RP stuff on the other forum if I could see this coming all at the same time, ahead of time; since it now makes me look like a stupid idiot since I didn't RP. Oh well.
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Posted: Dec 8 2007, 01:00 AM
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As the 4-by-4 reaches the outskirts of University City, Blake Jones leaves Mr. Uppenhauser at a local general store, gives him a 50-Transfer note, and lets him know the shopkeeper will help him find proper clothing and at least semi-permanent shelter.

"We're not like the corpratists, we try our best to help each other," Blake says as he leaves. "Good luck to you in our new home country."

As Blake drove toward the citizen raiders' well-fortified main compound, he realizes the word that the civil war was over had reached the rest of the nation, as common people were making their own goods, and selling them on the side of the road to others as they saw fit.

When he made it inside, and checked his firearms, he was immediately called into Christopher Davis' office, who was the leader of the citizens and highly rumored to declare himself President of 95X when and if the citizens claimed victory.

Mr. Davis, a tall, slender man in his fourties, with dark blond hair that was quickly turning silver and gray, led the group from his moderately large office and living quarters in the groups' compound. Although he was easy-going, he was also a very demanding leader that punished harshly those that did carry out their orders as they were told.

Blake was obviously extremely nervous for this reason, even as Mr. Davis asked him to be seated in front of his desk.

"I understand Pacific City is under our control," Mr. Davis states, cutting right to the chase.

"Yes," Blake replies, already understanding that Mr. Davis had asked him a question, "I verified personally that no corporatists are alive in the area. All our forces are securing the necessary equipment to eventually rebuild the city."

"Was there any trace of anyone important?," Mr. Davis asks.

"Yes," Blake goes on to describe meeting and assisting Mr. Uppenhauser, and remembers the note he found.

"Additionally, someone we were looking for is gone," he says, pulling the death note Richard Walterson wrote out of his pocket. He hands it to Mr. Davis, who reads it silently.

"I assume this is from Richard Walterson," he questions.

When Blake confirms, Mr. Davis places it on his desk, and walks over to the wall on his left, where there are six pictures on the wall, consisting of nothing more than pictures printed on an ordinary sheet of paper. Mr. Davis pulls the one of Richard Walterson off the wall, and throws it into a recycling bin.

"Mr. Blake," Mr. Davis, starts, "you shall be commended for your efforts, starting today."

Mr. Davis walks over to his desk, pushes the intercom button and asks for his wife to enter his office. He then continues to commend Blake.

"You will be recognized by me during tonight's dinner in the dining hall, where I shall tell everyone that we've won."

Just then, the door is opened, and Mrs. Davis, who used a motorized wheelchair, comes in.

"My wife will show you to the dress closet, where you can find a jacket and shirt appropriate for the occasion," Mr. Davis says to Blake, who would later be congratulated for his work in confirming Walterson's demise.

Mrs. Davis and Blake then leave the room.

Mr. Davis then takes a long, good look at the pictures on the wall next to the one he tore down.

Of the five remaining, all of which were of the former 95X Board of Directors, four others are below a sign that says "Wanted for Treason."

One of them, however, is about a meter away from the others, and marked "To be commended for bravery against corporate aggression."

The picture was of President Jason Barbur, who was the lone dissenting voice when the corporatists tried to take ultimate power.

He was one of the first to go "missing" since the fighting started almost two years before, and hadn't been heard from since.
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Posted: Dec 9 2007, 02:57 AM
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Several days later, word of Jason Barbur's letter to King Falcon of Falcania started to make news across the region. Depending on who you talked to, Jason was either captured and imprisoned, killed when the first wave hit Pacific City, or hiding out somewhere.

At first, many thought the letter was faked - why would he send a letter through regular postal mail? Didn't he have another way to contact another national leader? Or, was he hiding out there all along?

Tonight would be the night of Christopher Davis' first address to 95X since winning what was quickly becoming known as The "95X Civil War," and the "changing of the guard." Most thought he wouldn't stand for any of this talk about Barbur on the day before the announcement.

The address was set to go out over the "People's Television Network," consisting nothing more than a main studio at the citizen raiders' compound for the very rare live events that it broadcast, various captured television transmitter sites throughout the country, and hidden transmitters in areas the other sites didn't cover.

As Mr. Davis prepared himself at the desk in the studio for the 5 P.M. broadcast, the worn-out tape of the citizen raiders' ideas and thoughts - which usually played 20 hours a day - was abruptly given a rest. With no fanfare or introduction, the picture of Mr. Davis replaced the stale programming.

Mr. Davis got right to it:

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, I'm pleased to report the forces of the people have won. The last of the corporatists are gone from the ruins of Pacific City, their final stronghold. We can now look to the future and rebuild our nation to its former glory - but do it with you the people in mind."

As his address continued, he could tell something else was going on - several people in the studio's control room were huddled around a monitor that monitored Scottfire's state-run TV channel.

Several minutes later, Mr. Davis concluded his address, and went directly to the control room.

"Alright," he commandedly yells, "what's going on?"

"Sir," one of the control room people says, while pressing a button on the control console, switching another monitor in the room to show the fuzzy black-and-white picture, which was the finest the large military-backed nation had to offer.

On the screen was none other than Jason Barbur, who, along with what appeared to be several hundred of Scottfire's military troops, had installed the rightful leader of Scottfire - Amanda Scott.

Scott, whose family was killed by General O'Brien's military coup when she was very young, was originally housed in a secret location in 95X. Until now, it was unclear whether or not she would ever come to power in Scottfire - or anywhere else - or even if she wanted to.

It was a genuine relief to everyone, even Mr. Davis, that both of them were still alive.

Now, although she was barely of age for most purposes, she was taking her place as the next monarch of Scottfire.

"Sir," a control room operator said to Mr. Davis, "we've been recording this from the beginning. Shall we show this to the people of 95X?"

"Indeed we should," was Mr. Davis' reply.

Within seconds, the picture on People's Television Network started rebroadcasting the event from the beginning, which, as luck would have it, started at almost the same time as Mr. Davis' address. A full-color note at the bottom of the screen complemented the grainy black-and-white feed, attributing the video to "Scottfire TV," and notes that it was delayed by approximately twenty minutes.

All around 95X, spontaneous celebrations broke out, as not only the people themselves had won; but the leader that was respected by both the raiders and the corporate sympathizers was alive, and the rightful leader of the nation 95X split from because of the military takeovers was now at the helm.

Perhaps, the people thought, both 95X and Scottfire's government and people would become friends again, and not only because of a military/defense/purchase agreement.
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Posted: Dec 9 2007, 03:11 AM
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Jason Barbur woke up to a knock on his bedroom door, in the Scottfire palace. Two days after seeing to that Amanda Scott took her place as ruler of Scottfire, everything was moving in a slow-motion blur. He looked at his watch, which said 11:42 AM.

"Crud," he said to himself, "I slept in again."

He got dressed, and answered the door.

No one was there, but a newspaper had been placed on the floor in front of it.

"Scottfire Free Press," the title screamed - "Uncensored, unapproved, uncompromised" - appeared in smaller letters directly below.

However, the largest type on the entire page covered half of the page above the fold - "FIRST EDITION" - proudly proclaiming this was the first newspaper since Amanda Scott declared an end to media censorship by the military/government, dominated.

One of the two articles on the front page was a no-brainer - coverage of the announcement of Scott's installation and ending of government media censure.

The other, on the right-hand column, was something Scottfire hadn't seen for years, if ever - news about 95X. And it was news Barbur wanted to see.

"Ah, the war is over," he said as he started to read the article. "Looks like I'll be stuck spending the rest of my life-"

Barbur stopped cold when he read the quote from Christopher Davis, which read: "Although we don't agree with everything President Barbur ever said, we've always viewed him as our elected President and hope he'll return home, to 95X."

"Davis is holding off naming himself 95X President until Barbur's intentions are known," the article writer followed.

Barbur immediately picked up the phone in his room, instructing the operator to use an international line to contact Davis in 95X, using much coaxing and codetalk to prove he was authorized to place such a request.

The delay and sound quality was awful, however he did reach Mr. Davis, explaining the longer he was on the phone with him, the longer it would take for him to get back.

Barbur's next call - arrange for transportation to 95X.

When it was set, the wait would be no longer than six hours - Barbur would fly from an Air Force Base in Scottfire to the otherwise closed 95X International Airport, where he would meet armed guards who would transport him to "University Compound" - the name the citizen raiders coined to describe their main compound as the temporary capital of 95X.

After all, it had to be somewhere.

As Barbur's plane reached the airport, he saw the total damage to Pacific City from the air for the first time - rubble everywhere, save for a few neighborhoods near the edge of the megalopolis that were spared - mostly ones with strong citizen raider ties.

The plane had almost no trouble landing at the deserted airport, the only one in the nation, even though the runways received little maintenance during the fighting.

As the aircraft landed and a staircase was wheeled to the cabin door, he could hear the cheers of those in attendance.

He stepped off the plane and onto the runway, where he was immediately greeted and welcomed by his escort, led by Blake Jones, as well as a reporter from People's Television, who immediately asked for on-camera comment to the direction of the nation - he was, after all, the only remaining member of 95X's tiny government.

"W-We must rebuild 95X to it's previous glory," Barbur said, visibly shaken from seeing the ruins of Pacific City.

"Are you planning on resigning?," the reporter hurredly asked.

"Allright," Barbur says, sounding like he's about to make a point, "I'll be honest with you, and the people of 95X. Amanda Scott - who should now be referred to as Queen Scott - begged me not to leave Scottfire, which is where I've been for much of the time. In fact, she asked me to marry her and become the King of Scottfire. I told her that I love her too, but it was something I could never do. I had to return to 95X, so we could repair relations between our two nations. She's not just a regime change in her nation, but who's in control beyond me here has changed, too."

Barbur immediately got into the armored car, which would take him to University Compound, and his first meeting with Christopher Davis.

When Barbur entered the compound, he wasn't sure what to expect. He was halfway expecting to be ambushed, which didn't happen.

Instead, he was personally greeted by Mr. Davis, and the two walked to Mr. Davis' office.

"Mr. President," Mr. Davis addressed him, "as you probably know, if we wanted to, we would have gone after you, too."

"However," he continued, "we recognize you as the President of 95X, and the rest of that so-called 'board' - whereever they are - as treasonists. We'd like to know what you want to do next."

Barbur was stunned. He was used to giving in to business interests, and their interests alone. This was one of the first times he'd ever been asked what he would do, as unquestioned authority.

"Well," as Barbur slowly and thoughtfully comes up with a response, "I think the people look up to both of us. I-I think the best way to handle this is with an election. Name your terms."

"But," replies a stunned Mr. Davis, "you're the President."

"I know. I've been elected to an indefinite term. And, as such, the Board could've called an election at any time. Since I'm the only recognized member of the Board, I'd like to call an election."

Mr. Davis realized he was recognizing Barbur as President, and should honor the request.

"Very well," Mr. Davis accepts, announcing his terms: "In six months. Everyone sixteen and over - no other restrictions."

"Then it's set," Barbur says.

(OOC: Election results tomorrow or the next RL day.)
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Posted: Dec 11 2007, 04:03 AM
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It had been a long six months, leading up to the Presidential election, but it was all routine. Jason Barbur, who'd appointed a temporary Board of Directors consisting of mayors of a mix of 95X's large and small cities, to oversee the nation under the old and only form of government the nation had, did what was generally expected of a national leader after a time of strife - namely, directed the reconstruction of Pacific City, the nation's capital; provided an International address to 95Xers who fled the nation encouraging them to come home, and declared the nation as "open" to tourists and vacationers.

There was also a surprise - the Board called for a Constitutional Convention, to rewrite the national governing structure and put the rights of everyone on paper. Although this was more or less expected, Barbur reluctantly accepted the appointment to chair the convention, guaranteeing his involvement in the nation after the election.

Neither major candidate did much campaigning - it wasn't one's ideals over another, or who was more moral - Barbur said he'd run the nation as the people requested, and Christopher Davis was the leader of the people throughout the conflict and needed no introduction to the people. Each was considered to be extremely capable of running the country. Ruth DeMarcus, a minority atheist lesbian, and a self-proclaimed Communist, also ran for office, and was considered a long-shot by almost everyone.

Shortly after the polls closed on election night, much of the nation gathered around their televisions for the results. Due to the manner the election was constructed, the final results were available in only a few hours.

Barbur, who'd set up a moderately-sized thank-you party for several friends, seemed calm, collected, and contemplative - one of the few times he was described as such. Many of the attendees thought the occasion was more of a 'thank you for your previous support' get-together than an election night celebration.

Then, around the nation, the results of several billion voters - including millions of votes from those 16-24, who were unable to vote before the previous elections - were known:
Jason Barbur - 46%
Christopher Davis - 53%
Ruth DeMarcus - 1%

Christopher Davis' reported that the first phone call he received was from Barbur, congratulating him on his victory.

Davis' first question to Barbur: "Do you want to be Vice-President?"

Barbur, stunned, replied by saying he would make a public announcement shortly.

Turning to a computer, Barbur typed:

"It has been great to serve as President of 95X, and I fully congratulate Mr. Davis on winning the election.
I've done a great deal of thought lately - with that in mind, I'd like to step out of the public spotlight for a while, and focus my efforts on the (Constitutional) Convention, and a few other hobbies I haven't been able to enjoy for years.
Sincerely, Jason Barbur"

Shortly after Davis' inauguration, in the still-standing West Platinum neighborhood of Pacific City, a small room in a school had been converted into a radio studio and had a tower on the roof, but both went unused for some time.

The FM (and only used) radio dial in Pacific City had been silent since shortly after the violence started. It ended with a electric guitar chord, immediately followed by Barbur's voice screaming through the speakers:

"NINETY-FIVE POINT ONE F-M PACIFIC CITY IS NINETY-FIVE X!!!"

Barbur had re-signed on the oldest station in the country, which happened to be the flagship station of his former company, National Broadcasting.
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