Pelasgia
Established Nation
Nauplio
Nearchus looked out of the window of the Café. Soldiers walked next to lines of people who threw mountains of flowers on them. Some, like Nearchus, wore olive uniforms that bore a crown others ones that bore a red star, others had extremely different uniforms, probably foreign volunteers or Eiffellander soldiers. Flags of all sorts and all factions, variations of the Cyclopeian Blue & White and other local ones as well as flags of Eiffelland, Vasország, Wendziema and other countries. The troops Cyclopeian and foreign origin, Socialist and Monarchist, marched through with big smiles. All shops served to soldiers for free. Some even served to everyone for free. The whole city was one big festivity of joy. Nearchus walked out and joined the fun. The city centre of Nauplio, with its elegant architecture was filled with seas of people of all sorts and vibrant colours everywhere. The sun shined over it. The winter was finally over both literally and metaphorically. Thousands stepped over what remained of the torn and burned Junta flags, with the colours of free Nauplio flying high.
As Nearchus and the other troops of various factions marched through he could not help but think. Think of something that everyone was pushing n the back of their heads, saying leave that thought tomorrow. The thought everyone wanted to avoid, to not consider because as they rejoiced and thought the hardships to be over they knew full well that this thought was enough to land them, to hit them like a fly is thrown to the floor by a swatter. What now? Socialists controlled half the country, Monarchists the other half and a lot of non-aligned people just stood there. Sure there was unity and love during the fight against the Junta, but that ended the moment Nauplio was surrendered to the Duchy. Cyclopeia was no longer dozens of City States, it was more united than ever. Two big factions, for God's sake, thought Nearchus. But yet now it was more devided than ever. Or rather more dangerously devided than ever.
At the same time, from both ends of Cyclopeia two planes flew. One from the West, one from the East, both bearing men one step away from rulling all of Cyclopeia. One believing to be legitimized by popular love and struggle, another by tradition and divine right. Soon enough these two would have to sit down and decide the future of this ancient land, once and for all, and hope that another war would not be needed to settle things, as has been the story in Cyclopeia since the first two Polis were built on it.
[OOC: For those who do not know what this is it is a continuation of my first RP,
Nearchus looked out of the window of the Café. Soldiers walked next to lines of people who threw mountains of flowers on them. Some, like Nearchus, wore olive uniforms that bore a crown others ones that bore a red star, others had extremely different uniforms, probably foreign volunteers or Eiffellander soldiers. Flags of all sorts and all factions, variations of the Cyclopeian Blue & White and other local ones as well as flags of Eiffelland, Vasország, Wendziema and other countries. The troops Cyclopeian and foreign origin, Socialist and Monarchist, marched through with big smiles. All shops served to soldiers for free. Some even served to everyone for free. The whole city was one big festivity of joy. Nearchus walked out and joined the fun. The city centre of Nauplio, with its elegant architecture was filled with seas of people of all sorts and vibrant colours everywhere. The sun shined over it. The winter was finally over both literally and metaphorically. Thousands stepped over what remained of the torn and burned Junta flags, with the colours of free Nauplio flying high.
As Nearchus and the other troops of various factions marched through he could not help but think. Think of something that everyone was pushing n the back of their heads, saying leave that thought tomorrow. The thought everyone wanted to avoid, to not consider because as they rejoiced and thought the hardships to be over they knew full well that this thought was enough to land them, to hit them like a fly is thrown to the floor by a swatter. What now? Socialists controlled half the country, Monarchists the other half and a lot of non-aligned people just stood there. Sure there was unity and love during the fight against the Junta, but that ended the moment Nauplio was surrendered to the Duchy. Cyclopeia was no longer dozens of City States, it was more united than ever. Two big factions, for God's sake, thought Nearchus. But yet now it was more devided than ever. Or rather more dangerously devided than ever.
At the same time, from both ends of Cyclopeia two planes flew. One from the West, one from the East, both bearing men one step away from rulling all of Cyclopeia. One believing to be legitimized by popular love and struggle, another by tradition and divine right. Soon enough these two would have to sit down and decide the future of this ancient land, once and for all, and hope that another war would not be needed to settle things, as has been the story in Cyclopeia since the first two Polis were built on it.
[OOC: For those who do not know what this is it is a continuation of my first RP,
You must be registered for see links
. You are welcome to check that out, but if 77 posts and 8 pages are too much for you, they probably are, then I will give you a short summary once this thread gets a comments thread of its own. For now you can check
You must be registered for see links
for a summarized version of my RP. - <3, Demosthenes]