And the other Occupied Territories? Köningsberg, Taurica and Caucasia, what are their populations like?
WITKO IS TITO!
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And the other Occupied Territories? Köningsberg, Taurica and Caucasia, what are their populations like?
WITKO IS TITO!
Konigsberg: 100% German.
Taurica: 50/50 Greek/German, with a few Russian minorities (already present at game start, implied to have been there before the Soviet takeover)
Caucasia: Mostly Greek, with a few Caucasian minorities. I think there were a few Mongol-majority provinces somewhere around there.
WITKO IS TITO!
Breaking the Tito train here. 
.-- .. - -.- --- / .. ... / - .. - ---
Have to admit I only decided to read this update so I could take a glance at the city names for Fusang. And I am utterly disappointed you neglected everything east of the Great Basin.
.-- .. - -.- --- / .. ... / - .. - ---Have to admit I only decided to read this update so I could take a glance at the city names for Fusang. And I am utterly disappointed you neglected everything east of the Great Basin.
Actually, I renamed all of Fusang's provinces, though I may have missed a few (I just noticed Pocatello). Though the further inland I got I just threw in some generic names.Breaking the Tito train here.
Have to admit I only decided to read this update so I could take a glance at the city names for Fusang. And I am utterly disappointed you neglected everything east of the Great Basin.
-- .. - -.- --- / .. ... / - .. - ---!
Or should I say,
WITKO IS TITO!
Loa, for one, is also unrenamed. And I'll guess right now: Phoenix is Fenghuang.Actually, I renamed all of Fusang's provinces, though I may have missed a few (I just noticed Pocatello). Though the further inland I got I just threw in some generic names.
-- .. - -.- --- / .. ... / - .. - ---!
Or should I say,
WITKO IS TITO!
You missed a dot. ... -.-. .... . . .-.. / -.. . ..-. . .- - ... / .- -.. . -. .- ..- . .-.
Loa is non-European sounding enough to remain as it was. And you're correct about Phoenix. Can you guess what Tucson is?
You know what? Screw Morse code. WITKO IS TITO!
The Cold War ends, something I'm sure just about every party involved can agree is wonderful news. May Annie Schmidt grow up to be the Reich's ambassador to Russia.
Oh, and I hear WITKO IS TITO.
Oh, and I hear WITKO IS TITO.
Since WITKO IS TITO!, that means that the CSSA is Yugoslavia. And with the end of the cold war in sight....
QUICK, what is a popular Mexica recipe?
WITKO IS TITO!
QUICK, what is a popular Mexica recipe?
WITKO IS TITO!
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Which Russia? Soviet or Tsarist Russia? Even with the Cold War over, that's still not going to be resolved easily.
THE MOLOTOVS ARE PUTTING CHEMICALS IN THE COCKTAILS TO MAKE THE WITKOS TITOS!
I don't know, but try guacamole. I think that was invented by the actual Aztecs. You're going to post the remove [CERTAIN TURKISH FOOD] meme aren't you?
Isn't that banned?WITKO IS TITO!
Well the "remove [redacted]" meme is forbidden, but not "remove guacamole"I don't know, but try guacamole. I think that was invented by the actual Aztecs. You're going to post the remove [CERTAIN TURKISH FOOD] meme aren't you?
Now the only thing that rests me is to rewrite that one post that began the memeWITKO IS TITO!
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The End of History, Part 1
West Berlin – March 3, 1984 – 8:30 AM
Gorbachev’s motorcade headed down Friedrichstrasse, away from Checkpoint Karl, where he had visited the soldiers on duty. He was amused by Wilson’s pretending that Berlin was still a great city. As he looked out the window, he took in the sights of the centuries-old buildings, almost all of them dating back to before the war. Some still bore the scars of that war, with bullet holes in their facades and cracks and craters showing through layers of paint and plaster. This wasn’t exactly Berlin’s best neighborhood. The Roman government hadn’t invested enough funds to fully rebuild it after the war. They had other parts of the Reich to worry about. East Berlin’s Friedrichstrasse wasn’t that much better either.
Checkpoint Karl
The motorcade turned onto Unter den Linden and drove down the wide street. Here, the buildings were slightly grander, as befitting of Berlin’s main street. Behind him, he could just make out the dome of Berlin Cathedral and the brutalist architecture of the East German Palace of the Republic. He never really liked Molotov’s plans for deromanization. Deromanization was too costly and detracted from the goal of creating the workers’ paradise. Then again, everything Molotov’s successors had done had made it basically impossible for him to make any progress towards that goal. He might as well just jettison the Occupied Territories and use the freed up resources to help the Soviet Commune.
Brandenbug Gate
They passed under the Brandenburg Gate and past the old Reichstag building. When Zhukov’s forces had taken Berlin in 1944, there were plans to demolish the gate, but a popular soldier—Varennikov his name was?—had convinced Zhukov to leave it intact. It ended up in Roman controlled West Berlin anyways. Gorbachev looked at the Victory Column as the motorcade drove around it. Wilson told him that it had been constructed after the Maximist Wars. Gorbachev never understood why such a civil war as that had broken out. Two branches of the same family, fighting to control the Reich. Molotov would have written it off as another example of reactionary capitalist oppression of the working class, but thankfully the old man was still stuck in his vacation home outside Kiev.
Finally, the motorcade arrived at the airport, where a small jet sat on the tarmac, ready to take him home to Russia. An honor guard of Roman and Soviet soldiers lined up on both sides of the red carpet leading up to the plane. At the beginning of the carpet, Roland Wilson stood there with his wife, Natalie. Gorbachev’s own wife and daughter were unable to fly back with him, as his wife was being treated for a mild illness at a Berlin hospital while his daughter stayed behind to look after her. They’d fly back home later.
Wilson, a big smile on his face, approached him as he got out of the car, hand outstretched. “General Secretary,” he said.
“Chancellor,” said Gorbachev, shaking Wilson’s hand, “It was a pleasure talking with you.”
“It was an honor to host you,” said Wilson, “I hope you enjoyed your visit.”
“Oh, I did,” said Gorbachev.
“I hope I can return the favor sometime,” said Wilson, “I’ve always wanted to visit Leningrad.”
“I’m sure I can arrange something,” said Gorbachev, “Someday, you’ll be welcomed in Russia as the man who ended the Cold War. We’ll both be heroes.”
“Be careful over there,” said Wilson, “You may have a vision, but your colleagues may not.”
“The Soviet people want full-blooded and unconditional meritocracy,” said Gorbachev, “The government will bend to the will of the people. What I’m most concerned about, my friend, s that certain people in the Reich are driving nails into the structure of our relationship and then cutting off the heads. I’m trying my best to reform my country. You must also make sure your people don’t undermine my efforts. Both of us must pull out the nails using our teeth.”
“Freedom is a fragile thing,” said Wilson, “You must remember it’s never more than a generation away from extinction.”
“I remember that quote,” said Gorbachev, “I also remember one thing you said in your inauguration speech: the government’s first duty is to protect the people, not run their lives. That is one thing we’ve failed to do. You have my word, Wilson, that we will do our best to protect our own people, but we will also protect our country. That is the goal of every leader, to make sure his country is prosperous. You must trust us, but not blindly. As we say in Russia, doveriai, no proveriai. Trust, but verify.”
They shook hands again. “Doveriai, no proveriai,” said Wilson, “Good luck, General Secretary.”
“As to you, Chancellor,” said Gorbachev.
He stepped onboard the plane. As the honor guard saluted and stepped away, Wilson watched as the plane taxied down the runway and took off, disappearing into the clouds in the east.
Just when he was about to get into his waiting motorcade, Wilson heard a loud and distant roar. He looked back towards the clouds and saw a missile, its smoke trail clearly coming from somewhere in West Berlin, arc towards the plane and slam into it. The plane exploded into a brilliant fireball, its remains falling to the ground.
Jakob von Bulow High School, Constantinople – 11:00 AM
Eighteen-year-old Angela Hansen was sitting in the middle of physics class when the vice-principal unexpectedly rushed into the room and whispered something into the teacher’s ear. The teacher stopped talking at once, and a hush fell over the classroom. The classroom was never this quiet, even during a lecture.
“Something’s happened in Russia,” said the teacher, “The Kaiser’s giving a speech.”
The teacher rushed over and turned on the TV. Angela watched as the familiar face of Thomas Brokau, lead anchor for IBC Nightly News, appeared on the screen. The headline blared “PRESIDENT GORBACHEV DEAD.”
“…as you can see, this all happened really quickly,” said Brokau, nervously gesturing to a pile of wreckage in a field, “Preliminary reports indicate that at approximately 8:45 AM this morning, a surface-to-air missile shot down President Gorbachev’s plane as it made its way back to the Soviet Commune. Our Russia correspondent reports tanks are on the move in Kiev. We don’t have many details, but the Foreign Bureau has suggested that there may be a coup in progress. We now go live to His Imperial Majesty, the Kaiser of the Romans, speaking from Hofburg Palace in Vienna.”
The scene briefly changed to a picture of the Hohenzollern coat of arms, accompanied by a short imperial fanfare, before the even more familiar face of Kaiser Otto appeared on the screen. Angela and half of the class snuck a quick look at Kaiser Otto’s portrait hanging in the corner of the classroom next to the flag.
“My fellow Romans,” he said, “Approximately two hours ago, Chancellor Wilson informed me that he witnessed General Secretary Mikhail Gorbachev’s plane explode in mid-air as it took off from Tegel International Airport. There are no survivors. We have launched an investigation into what happened to the plane and to who shot it down. Concurrent with this development, the Foreign Bureau notified me that significant unrest had taken place in Kiev—”one corner of the screen displayed images of Soviet tanks charging through Red Square and dispersing crowds of angry protestors “—the images of which you now see on your screen. The imperial government has reason to believe that there is a coup in progress, most likely carried out by hardliners within the Politburo and the Red Army seeking to capitalize on what had happened in Berlin. I ask all Romans to remain calm as we get to the bottom of this. We will not achieve anything in panicking and pointing fingers at each other. We must stay united, because that is our strength. Rest assured, Chancellor Wilson and I will find out what happened to Gorbachev, and we will deal with whatever happens next in Kiev and whoever becomes the next General Secretary, as we have dealt with previous general secretaries. The Reich will emerge from this crisis just as it did all previous crises…”
Although the Kaiser did his best to assure all of them, Angela already knew something was horribly wrong. He didn’t usually give a speech due to a current event. Then again, general secretaries didn’t usually get assassinated on Roman soil. Was something about to happen?
Omar Mukhtar Building (Athanatoi Headquarters), Constantinople – 12:00 PM
Assistant Director Erich Hansen entered the conference room, where several other Deputy and Assistant Directors from all of the Athanatoi’s main branches, both foreign and domestic, had already gathered in front of Director Anne Frank and a large television screen. As soon as Erich took his seat, other agents locked the door behind him, meaning only those with the proper clearance could join their conversation.
“You all probably watched the Kaiser’s speech,” said Anne, “So I’ll skip that.”
She gestured to the television.
“…confirm that President Gorbachev’s plane has been shot down by a Roman missile over the city of Berlin,” read the general speaking on the TV, “Effective immediately, a state of emergency shall be in place, and a State Committee of the State of Emergency shall be formed to manage the country and to effectively maintain the regime of the state of emergency. Vice-President Gennady Yaneyev shall be assuming the duties of president, while I shall assume the office of General Secretary.”
Anne paused the television. “I’m sure you all recognize who that is,” she said.
Displayed on the screen was the face of Valentin Varennikov, the Liberator of the Reichstag, the Terror of Carpathia, and the Butcher of Bohemia. The soldier who had raised the Soviet flag over the Reichstag and who had confronted the Valkyrie in Budapest and Prague was now the most powerful man in the Soviet Commune.
Kiev – 12:30 AM
Defense Minister Valentin Varennikov entered the dimly-lit room, where Deputy Defense Minister Dmitry Yazov, his longtime friend, and other generals and party leaders sat around a long table, going over a schedule for the party’s session that day.
“What did Gorbachev say?” asked Dmitry.
“He just hung up on me,” said Valentin, “I had more luck with Molotov. He’ll be speaking shortly over the radio.”
“Then we must act fast,” said Premier Valentin Pavlov, “Gorbachev’s on his way back here. The trap must be sprung.”
“Patience, Premier Pavlov,” said Vice-President Gennady Yanayev, “If we act too quickly, our efforts will be for nothing.”
“On the contrary, you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” said Valentin, “I’ve already ordered the plan to be implemented. The tanks have already been deployed to Red Square.”
“WHAT?!” shouted Yanayev. “Are you mad?!”
“Haven’t you heard?” said Valentin. “Gorbachev’s dead. His plane got shot down by the Romans while leaving Berlin.”
“WHAT?!” shouted Yanayev. “Then we must shelve our plans immediately! Gorbachev’s death was not part of the plan! We needed him alive to give ourselves legitimacy! Those tanks will just make it look like we’re launching a coup!”
“Actually, wait a second,” said Dmitry, “We have an unprecedented opportunity here. If Gorbachev’s dead, the opposition won’t have anybody to rally around. We already have the firepower to crush any others who might try to succeed him. We could capitalize on this. The Romans did kill him, after all. People will see us as restoring order and support us. And regardless we’re already launching a coup.”
“He’s right,” said Valentin, “We could use this to justify our actions. And besides, I’ve already issued the state of emergency.”
“Wait, what?!” said Pavlov. “Then he’s right. We must follow through now!”
“Very well, then,” said Yanayev, “Minister Yazov and General Pavlov, accompany the tanks to the Kremlin. Minister Varennikov, accompany me to the Kremlin. We will have to explain ourselves to the Presidium and the Central Committee.”
The generals and party leaders got up from their seats and shook each other’s hands.
“Great job, everybody,” said Valentin, “Today, we will save the revolution.”
In that case, go ahead!Well the "remove [redacted]" meme is forbidden, but not "remove guacamole"
Oh, and I think you forgot something.
WITKO IS TITO!
Well, that goes out the window. Someone in there must really hate commies.
Now I'm wondering if Wilson himself premeditated this. He is a war-hawk, after all.
Now I'm wondering if Wilson himself premeditated this. He is a war-hawk, after all.
VALENTINNNNNNN YOU SON OF A BITCH
Stupid commie bastards. I hope they choke on their food
oh and TITO IS WITKO apparently
wait
Stupid commie bastards. I hope they choke on their food
oh and TITO IS WITKO apparently
wait
Oh, hell yes. I hope this results in WWIII; it would be a great climax.
WITKO IS TITO!
Let's see how long we can maintain this, lads.
WITKO IS TITO!
Let's see how long we can maintain this, lads.
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"There you go again..."
*Implying commie scum even have food to choke on
Well, you just broke it. You left out the exlamation mark.
HERESY! YOU FORGOT THE EXCLAMATION MARK!
WITKO IS TITO!
Terribly sorry. I have edited my post to correct this most grievous of errors.
WITKO IS TITO!
WITKO IS TITO!
*Implying commie scum even have food to choke on
Ok I feel a little better now. But only a little
TITO IS TITO