VILenin: Excellent!
Mettermrck: Would YOU want to become President if you knew what you do now?
Frankly, you'd have to be crazier than Aaron Burr or your AAR's McCarthy to take the job.
NikkTheTrick: Bang
BBBD: Don't get your hopes up. Stukov's a tad miffed about bloody coups.
------------------------------------------------
March 7th, 1845
In the White House, Alexei Stukov and his wife Azuren sat casually in one of the rooms they had claimed as part of their permanent residence inside the dwelling of the supposed leader of the only republic in the continent.
Having long grown disgusted with the archaic standards she was forced to put up with, and the nearly crushing heat compared to the Kremlin, Azuren now wore a military-style uniform appropriate for a 1940's empress of a military-industrial complex that dominated the world.
Stukov smiled and looked across the room at his son Feodor, now technically ten years old as he sat on the floor trying to read one of his father's books about temporal mechanics the space-time continuum, all that he knew about constructing a time-machine when the time was finally right, should it ever be right.
"He didn't scream like Van Buren did," Azuren remarked casually.
"I noticed. He also lasted nearly twice as long," Stukov glanced at Feodor to be sure he was neither aware his parents were speaking, nor listening to what they said, "But I think he'll only last half as long in office."
Azuren smiled, meeting her husband's eyes, "Is that a fact?"
Stukov shook his head. "You never know what might happen, love."
"Don't you?" she teased.
"Only when I have to."
The conversation dropped into silence for a while, the two of them occassionally exchanging glances at each other and their son, smiling the whole time.
"Do you think he understands any of it?"
Alexei laughed inwardly and shook his head, "
I couldn't even tell time until I was eleven."
Azuren giggled, "Good thing he's not as stupid as his father."
Stukov only rolled his eyes in response.
Suddenly, Feodor hopped up off the ground, snapped the book shut and walked over to them. Handing the book him Stukov, he grinned, "That's a silly book, father."
Stukov laughed, putting the book on a nearby table with a thud. "Did you like it?"
"Yes, father," Feodor nodded, practically beaming.
Stukov gently patted his son on the head, "Very good, son. Now I think it's time you started your lessons with your mother." Feodor groaned in disappointment.
Stukov stood up, virtually towering over his son, "I have to get back to work too, so no complaining."
"Yes, father," Feodor muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Be good, Theodore," he said as he left the room. A minute later, he was on the other side of the building. Opening the door, he scowled at the man laying limp in a chair before him. Two Imperial Guardsmen, Yuri and Antanov, looked up from their work.
"Has he broken yet?" he asked, staring at the man.
Yuri nodded, "Yes sir, though we appear to be having some trouble stopping him from spontaneously rambling about serving you."
Stukov barked a laugh, "How unfortunate that's a bad thing these days."
The man looked in the direction of Stukov, trying and failing to focus his eyes by blinking furiously. His movements were listless and uncoordinated, and Stukov guessed his thoughts were the same. There were bruises all across most of his visible body, and a dried up trail of blood trickled down from his nose, lips, and ears.
"From now on, James Polk," Stukov stated harshly, "you obey me. If you do not, I shall destroy you and make you beg to be sent to hell. You will follow my commands implicitly, and without hesitation."
"I....I....u-unerssstand," Polk slurred, "I-I...I obey....you."
Stukov smiled wickedly, "Good. Now I command you to not longer obey me."
Polk blinked, paused, and stared at him, blinking rapidly. A few moments later, Polk began twitching and shuddering, his eyes darting across the room.
Stukov nodded. "A satisfactory response, I would say. After he's done, finish up with him, then get yourselves some rest."
The two Guardsmen saluted him as he left, and Polk began breaking into hysterical sobs. Stukov's smile only grew.