Dinh AaronMk

Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)

<Snipped quote by Dinh AaronMk>

It's not over until you take every last maid cafe in Akihabara!

@Keyguyperson

We'll have those maids wearing plastic flowers and vegetables in their hair before America can invent the damn hippy!

Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)

I mean, Russia right now is basically Border Gore Central.

@Keyguyperson

Rape of Osaka 1960. No weebs will survive!

Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)

<Snipped quote by Dinh AaronMk>

Totally understand your points. Will change it so that most industry in the country is cottage industry. Maybe one or two repurposed workshops or factories in 1960. Also will make it so the defensive line is just bunkers made from leftover stone from the mines. I may also say there is an unspoken none aggression pact with Georgia as attacking each other would just be to hard in the mountains. As such the countries sometimes share information with each other and in rare cases work together. Maybe one or two of the rebel factions that have the mentality the enemy of my enemy is my friend and are working with my country. Also maybe a few rebel groups are hiding out in the mountains of my country as well as criminals.

Overall I think my country should be able to provide for its own people just about. But I imagine my country is lacking in modern equipment, intellectuals, industrial power and severe lack of potential external trade.

Anything that you don't think I have addressed let me know.

@Inkwell

And how are you going to get the stones to the mines? Trucks? How are you getting the fuel to run the trucks. From within your borders? Oil's on the other side of Southern Russia and local fuel sources would be heavily fought over as much as mineral mines. From outside? How are you paying? This is a part of Russia that's by and far largely all farms, and who would trade with an economy as gutted as Russia and with a party in the larger conflict without a currency, or whose currency would be so poorly backed and non-established it's basically worthless.

And let's say you can, how are these being managed? You'll need parts to replace on these vehicles, they'll inevitably break down or come on accidents and attrition will slowly break down the logistics between mines and the front. So you'll need replacements, and replacements come from factories. how are the factories being operated? There may not be any electricity, or there'll be a shortage of energy to run them consistently. Cottage industry may not be able to catch up with such industrial demand.

And then you get the stone to the front: you'll need concrete. And assuming Caucasian stone is limestone and not something like granite you won't be able to make concrete to adhere it all together so it holds up to mortars if the enemy has that. And how are you going to grind the stone to a usable powder to make concrete? Heavy grinders are needed for that.

And then we come back to transport: so assume you don't have heavy transport and you're using horse and mule-drawn wagon. That takes time, the same as grinding stone from mines to a usable powder for concrete, assuming it's limestone or a calcium-based rock. And by the time you get one Hoxha Brand (tm) bunker down the enemy has already moved around utilizing the great expanse of the southern Russian steppe to high-mobility advantage.

The best field fortifications would be what man can dig with a shovel on a spot and if or when available timber supports to hold up the earthwork banks.

And onto civilian services: if no fuel whose driving cars? There'd be no ambulances, no power from the power plants. Electricity wouldn't work and phone service would be dead or spotty if there was electrical power. Infrastructure like this is a large national affair and implies a strong economy. The region would be set back to 1860.

Supplying basic needs like food and fire-wood as fuel or even managing livestock would certainly be a service that persists, but it'd likely be rendered in the old peasant world of mutual aid and village-to-village assistance living outside of the political paradigm and just floating with whoever says they're in power. They would throw their lot into a militia organized by your government but that would honestly be the limit, and only so much as they can afford since they're walking out into the fields now to reap their wheat and barley with sickles and baskets to harvest it as they may have been doing for centuries.

Southern Russia would be very much a land of overlap realistically with only firm grasp of prominent cities where the urban population would be severely dependent on the government to keep them from starving or managing what little resources they have to address the handicaps to have some minimal level of life; what can be done to keep them from starving, dying of preventable disease, and some minor police and fire protection. And beyond there they'd be in open competition with everyone else and competing over the villages with the other factions.

As my Russian friend said in his experience with the Southern Russia, think more in terms of Cossack LARPing than trying to be a Russian Republic in miniature. Western Russia might be able to pull it off better because they have the infrastructure, but they also need regions like the Caucus and Siberia to run it, and they're either poorly developed because all that development is in Moscow and Saint Petersburg or these regions are vastly underpopulated.




Another comparison would be: like depth-of-Civil-War-Somalia, but add more slav.

Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)

I also checked in with a friend from Russia on the Caucus/Southern Russia region and he came back with, "Farms and Cossack LARPers".

So something to keep in mind, @Inkwell.

Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)

Also map updated:

Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)

@Inkwell
You're looking better on your new app, but there's new glaring issues. Particularly in regards to the treatment of the local economy.

Typically speaking for Russia a lot of the industry is focused in the more populated north. Southern Russia, particularly in the mountains is focused primarily on resource extraction in a hand full of minerals (copper, lead, etc) which would have been sent out of the area to where the factories are, western Russia. Even given the Soviet Union in our history they didn't industrially develop the region and Sochi in general isn't and hasn't ever been a strong industrial city and has developed more as a tourism center and for agriculture (Sochi is the only place in Russia that grows tea as I'm aware).

Your app treats the region as being very stable and at a well developed, stable state. But you forget that the area has been at war with itself for seven years and poorer parts of Russia like the south would be poorer still. They'd be incapable of launching large-scale earth work projects like the fort line you said they built to keep a hold on the territory. And they certainly wouldn't have or would have very limited industrial capacity to do it.

Further, conflict in a region or a country often leads to a brain-drain effect. See the middle east in the 20th century or even Syria today when many middle-class professionals opted to escape the country and region at the head of warfare. Being a part of an unstable region does not lead itself to investment opportunities, and CEOs would have abandoned Russia for the more stable west when war broke out. They would have been followed by the scientists as threat of someone's lab being raided by paramilitaries looking for supplies or shit to sell to fund themselves, or just general banditry and looting and heavily weakened services from a lack of finance and a broken economy would leave them unprotected.

You seem to be handling your app more as if it were a well established real country as opposed to an unsettled local-state as would be expected in the post-Apocalypse. Self defense wouldn't come with expensive and industrial fortifications but from shifting alliances. Or in the setting of PoW: foreign aid and interference.

If you want to be a strong industrial nation in PoW, and in PoW's Russia you got to work for that.

Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)

-

@Shyri

--

Finish the Sentence, Create a Story

There once was a man, who is well known in his city. His name was John but on weekends it was Britney. On Sundays, his name was Carl. The rest of the time, it was 'dumbass'. And he has two things that always accompany him, a list of names and a worn-out red marker. It would surprise you to know that, while it went against the expected function, the marker was not for writing on paper.

Morning light filled the hospital, the smell of death hung in the air. The pale walls shone wetly. Above Dumbass's bed hung a portrait of the Quartermaster of the KSR.

Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)

@Inkwell I may have to side with Hugs on this in that perhaps some clipping might be done, as well as actually taking the map into MSPaint and using the fill bucket tool. I *think* the map up in the OP is the full size one. But if not:



But one thing I'd like to stress on the region is that that part of Russia is fairly mixed, and Russians are either in a minority or are no less a majority than any of the other groups. The region of Russia has had a history of being the center for many different people and even religions: Christians, Muslims, and even Buddhists. And without the sort of interference in the area as the Soviets had ran and the deportations to Siberia/Kazakhstan or entire populations fleeing the southern Caucus and southern Russian steppe as refugees escaping the Red Army much of that diversity would be preserved.

To a point they might operate well, if to depose the weakening Czar and Czarist state. But in settling they'd likely end up forming their own independent states.

That's the reasoning behind having the area broken down so much.

The region - especially in the north - is considerably flat, so even if trench works were dug the geography would have permitted a swift advance by the northern parties and I doubt as you said they would have held them off as well.

Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)

Beijing

December 2nd, 1956

An electric energy filled the congressional Hall of the People as men and women filed in, filling the enormous legislative chamber with more bodies than it had ever seen. The chamber still smelled of fresh wood and stain, or freshly coated paint and glue when it was rocked with the movements of shoes and the echoes of a high number of multitudes. As the routine legislative members filed in from the public corridors into the immense vaulted chamber of new Chinese law-making power many more filled in around the galleries. A great number of souls in their best of dress and highest of curiosity. From out of nowhere they had been summoned to witness something, to partake in something they had once before had no privileged or part. Until now, perhaps.

All the machines of state seemed to stop for this one surreal moment when everyone was summoned. The actions of the Grand Secretary had been silent for what felt like eons, the presence of Hou Tsai Tang a shadow. Politburo seemed to be everywhere, then all of a sudden from Tsai Tang himself orders came for an immense congress. Including not those normally party to the law-making process, but a broader host. He called them witnesses, referred to them as representatives of other interior bodies. There was a tension and a wonder from within the Party and without, and it concentrated itself into this one room. So great was it that the gathering assembly had the impression all the world now orbited this single event.

Xong Deng looked very much like an old mandarin, save for his closely cut hair. With his long sleeves and baggy pants he leaned back, slouching in the upper gallery chairs as people continued to file in around and next to him. He was elbow to elbow with his old contemporaries, all three of them aging members of the old Republican government. These were the old practitioners of state who were far-enough to the right to remain in the Nationalist government after the expulsion of the Chinese Communist Party at the end of the old United Front, but still far enough to the left in their commitments that in the final peace process had avoided detainment, considered non-militant opposition and a spiritually defeated force.

Their party had been smashed, broken, and thrown all throughout China. At least officially. In the time since the evolved Communists in the New China Party had subsumed all their political duties and positions, forcing them out of power. Though the old networks of communication remained, and th old members of the old left party stayed in touch. And perhaps this is how he had come to receive an invitation, the old man who dressed like a mandarin with large round rimmed glasses.

Yet like everyone else he was dreadfully curious, and almost terrified. In the beginning there was fear this would be a ploy to arrest them all. A conspiracy to destroy the thread-bare remnants of the opposition to the NPC's stranglehold on politics. Yet, Xong Deng had gone to entertain it and he was surprised that there were so many in attendance. He had not come alone, some friends had volunteered to come with him. And now in the galleries they scanned the thousands already there and the hundreds yet to come. He was surprised to not see any cameras, somehow he had expected that. But on the floor on the raised stage of the congressional speaker and secretary sat a podium filled with a peacock's fan of microphones, he followed the cables down to the carpet they were hidden under and quickly lost track of where they went. He supposed it was being broadcast and recorded. He searched the periphery of the room and the edges of the spectator's balconies in search of any more, but couldn't identify any.

“Do you think he will make an appearance?” asked one of Deng's companions, a slightly younger man with with a broader face. He wore an old western-styled suit; it had to be over a decade out of style with the rest of Europe now and Deng was surprised he kept it so clean and fresh looking. His name was Zhu Junqi.

He was of course referring to Hou Tsai Tang. Several years previous he had disappeared from public light and sound after what rumors said was an attempt on his life. The state-controlled news covered it up, referring only to a vague incident in Beijing in the center of the city but said no more. In the absence of information rumors swirled that there had been a semi-successful uprising against the Communist government, that the government had been seized but was quickly and violently put down. Less fantastically people spoke of a bomb, or a sniper. In either instance, just prior to the event Hou seemed to be a public figure, quiet and taciturn in his daily power but known to posses it; yet vocal and omnipresent with essays and speeches enumerating the points of his government, like a teacher lecturing a class on civic affairs. He made himself much the speech maker and writer as he was the essayist he had been, mobilizing and encouraging a broad spectrum on the political left side.

Hou had spoken much of hope and of the future. Recalling it in that moment Deng realized in some way that had been the continuing theme. Not of victory or strength, but hope and the giving of an image of that; something people could reach out to and make their goal. He could credit him that much for doing such in trying times, but when Hou had eliminated his enemies the notion fell empty. At least to Deng. In the grand scheme it turned less into something to achieve in a far future and more of a tired theme when all opposition to reaching that goal had been defeated so thoroughly it would never again pose a threat.

People had disappeared, and still were. Which gave people like Deng and Junqi reason to fear.

“I don't know.” Deng said in a low voice, leaning over towards Junqi. Perhaps this was an announcement of succession? That Hou had been taken by an assassin.

The question wasn't just on their minds, it was in the conversation of everyone else around him. He listened as the same rumors from so long ago circulated again and found new life with new fuel to wake it up from its hibernation. The only other in Deng's entourage seemed to have no comment on it, and he sat erect in his seat chewing on the glasses. His wide dishpan face was red from the heat in the room and anxiety. His name was Guo Hu, he was known as a silent agent within the old Yuan. Xong Deng knew though that under his silence he was deeply meditative about the whole affair. As the rumors grew heavier, Deng watched as Hu's demeanor became subtly more agitated. The wait was taking its toll.

Deng realized in time exactly why there was such a minimal media presence in the congressional chambers. When it reached its peak and less people seemed to gather into the great hall there would have been no room for anyone to stand or sit. Any space available was currently occupied. Every congressional chair in the coliseum of politics was taken and somberly dressed congressmen who leaned to the side to speak to each other in the noisy chambers.

Deng looked on the crowd and realized with a softly churning malevolence that if there ever was a time to eliminate a government fully, here was the time. But he knew logically it couldn't happen. Outside these halls in the cold Beijing winter the military was thick. Heavier than he had ever witnessed. In greater numbers than he had ever seen them since the surrender of Nanjing.

Deng was watching the rest of the thousands now in the chambers when chatter went suddenly silent. He turned to look to see a tall man walking with a wide gait towards the podium. As the whole of Congress rose at his presence Deng realized fully who he was. In all his whole, thin provincial self was the manifestation of Hou Tsai Tang himself. He looked grayer than he had been often portrayed in the photographs of the leader, but he was very much alive and very much in one piece. Down the to the short pointed beard on his chin.

Taking the podium he rose his hands and placed them on the edge and looked up at the standing congress then up at the gallery. There was a sharp piercing quality in his gaze, even at the distance he was to Deng and he felt his stomach turn cold as he passed over him. He felt as though the great chairman was peering directly into him.

Then his gaze rested, and Hou's body slackened and relaxed. He allowed his shoulders to drop under his black Zhongshan suit and he raised a hand in a simple gesture to seat the congressmen. They obliged with silent obedience and the only sound that filled the chambers was that of chairs scrapping along wooden floors.

“Brothers, sisters. Comrades of all stripes.” Hou began, his voice low as he leaned into the mic. He spoke with a slow measured cadence. There was a heavy sternness in his voice, but Deng did not hear any suggestion of seeking to inflict discipline on his audience. It was the tone of a man about to make things clear, “I must begin simply by thanking you for coming. I realize that the winter is cold, that the snow and the ice has complicated travel. But with all due fortune on us as a people we have arrived here safe to conduct our affairs.

“China as it is now has come far. We have risen past our old barbarity. The evils of reaction have been left behind us and we move ahead, leaving the misdeeds of feudal barbarity to drift in the sands of time, to be the refuse of obscurity. We have rendered it false ideology, and raise ourselves a new one. We have relinquished the yoke of yokes of warlords, cast them into the fire and put those who would rule by terror upon the sword of virtue and elected the creation of a government and a state of law once again. But more appropriately we have come to assume a nation of freedom. A state of liberty that comes to eclipse all others before it. We have come now to assume the natural state of man unhindered by the oppression of class and exploitation and now that which truly belongs to the Chinese belongs to the Chinese.

“And I say not Chinese in the limited mindset that had ruled the minds and been the center of Imperial ideology. No Manchu, not even no Han may claim to be truly Chinese and to be Chinese is principle to many people. Let me remind you of that. And it is for this that we come together today: to observe this virtue and seek its truth.

“We have done much in these past years to build a country and a land worth living in. The damages of tyranny, or oppression, and of war swiftly and justly rendered a spectacle of the past. We are a community of millions that now stand face towards the rising east of the future! In liberation we as a people have come to realize the potential of our power. That we can be the fierce waters that carve a canyon deep. The shaping and forming hand of nature that molds fertile valleys and raises wondrous mountains. Our capacity is that; to shape a civilization reborn from the ashes of autocracy and oligarchy, from imperial feudalism and ancient bureaucracy.

“And now the stage is set. Much has been done to lay a firm foundation but to build this great temple to the people is not a project devoted to a single man, or a single party. For even the construction of a house is not assumed by a single person; but done so in association with an unity between he and his fellows within his community. The land has been cleared now, the designs much be drawn and the people brought together.

“And so now I step forward to offer out the final brick in the laying of the seat of our future, for I have done much. And much more could be done in the name of the present course of things. But at a certain time a true leader must step back and realize that it is time for others to assume the progressive force. The ship is freed from the rocks, it is out of the dangerous harbor. So we sail now the open waters of the mighty river of time and the only true captain of the ship in the open waters are its crew.

“I have requested the assembly of Congress here today and of people beyond the ship of state, our fellow countrymen set to the side to partake in a second great evolution and to participate in the assumption of the true potential of the people.

“And as an advance on this promise I request that Congress move officially to the advancement of the earlier delivered set of bills.” Hou said. Another figure rose from the congressional seats and walked to Hou. “I move to grant the floor to Xiogang Wen.”

Stepping back, Hou nearly disappeared into the background as a shorter wider figure assumed control of the podium. His black hair lay combed against his narrow rectangular face as he assumed the podium. “Congress moves to vote on Politburo Recommendation 1131, in which industrial assets in concerns on the textile industry are released from state control for local municipal control if over ten-thousand workers or control by local union if under.” Xiogang Wen read in a low stately tone.

In unity Congress rose, and one by one began submitting their yes votes in a loud clear voice. Deng leaned in his chair as each call signaled full party unity over the bill. When all was said, Xiogang announced unanimity and moved on, “Congress moves to vote on Politburo Recommendation 1132, on which assets of manufacture related to the production of small engine parts including the manufacture of pistons, gears, springs, seals, crank shafts, and other mechanical instruments for mechanical motors of civilian use for their redistribution to local government if over 10,000 persons or local union if under.”

Again, Congress rose and the same solidarity was displayed. One my one Wen Xiogang read out politburo measures before the witness of its center-left or ultra left critics. Seemingly to deliver on challenges made to it in part by either side. In one sense, liquidating state monopoly and delivering on a form of socialism for the far-left line and delivering on the demands of the Tokyo and Paris groups, as much as the old True Socialists. And at the same time, throwing a gesture to the old left-liberals. Silently mutterings rang through the gallery as the display continued, breaking down state control of many industries through manufacture, mineral extraction, and agriculture. Simultaneously de-bolshevising itself while also maintaining – or even giving – full proletariat control of state-run assets in one great sweep. As it finished legislating its new libertarian stance it moved steadily into affirming its grasp on the military, on regulation in healthcare, establishing – though also more accurately re-affirming the existence of – a state media corporation, and regular sounding adjustments to the what economic assets it retained for itself, establishing new quotas and shortening the weekly hours worked for state employees by four.

As it ended, Wen left the podium and Hou reassumed his position to make one final proposal. “As we prepare to leave.” he began in a dry voice, “Let me personally present a final piece of legislation finalized in the zero hour in Politburo assembly. Politburo Recommendation 1159, the lifting on the ban on parties in state, provincial, and county elections and for the establishment of a Party Registration Board to clear and approve official political movements for the expressed purpose of preventing Parties of Reaction. I move this recommendation for debate on the floor of Congress.”

Loud murmurings echoed in the hall. The gallery was caught by surprise. Xiogang Wen called for a congressional recess, but those above them were already too busy to notice as preemptively the old political men sought immediate alliances in the future they were sure may be coming.

Beijing

Present Day, May 17th, 1960

“So you are saying you need money?” Xong Deng asked as he leaned up alongside the window of his office. He turned from looking out into the street to his guest who casually reclined against the arm rest of his chair. Dressed in a starch white Zhongshan suit Zhang Auyi looking like a stranger to politics, more of a youthful actor than a Provincial Secretary, a governor. Young and handsome, barely forty he had become a sudden fixture in Guangxi. He had been a late volunteer in the Revolution, but not without his experience in conflict. He wore his mementos like the subtle dimpling of acne scars on his face and hands, though he had served mostly in logistical duties.

The young man wasn't a stranger to Xong Deng, nor was he unknown among the political circles in Beijing. While he was knew his youth was surprising, and some had begun whispering of him being the potential leader for the post-war generation. He wasn't committed either to any party, describing himself as a pragmatic socialist to the election bureau when he decided to run. He had been accepted, a test of the reforms in the fifties.

So now he was here, to petition and probe national government.

“For clean up and reinstating operations in factories.” Auyi said. He had a smooth voice, there was something provincial in the way he spoke, but certainly far more aware than his otherwise mountain country tone let on. He had seen things, he let it be known without ever letting on; kept it modest. “If nothing else to move the machinery out and clean up the refuse. Bored children often end up exploring the ruins and get cut on glass and metal. If nothing else short of demolition or getting the funds to get these places re-operating to make it so anyone who explores won't get sick.”

“I see, but exactly how much are we talking about? In terms of facilities you need cleaned out?”

“Maybe close to a few hundred, one to two hundred. Mostly small munitions plants the Kuomintang threw down in cement shacks all through the river and mountain country towards the end of their regime. Some are still packed with live munitions. Just the other week I heard of some farmer looking for scrap in a munitions shed setting off unexploded shells still packed away, killed himself and his son.”

“I see.” Deng acknowledged.

Auyi nodded, “There wasn't much I could do for reparations for his wife. Nothing I felt would repay the life lost.”

“I'll have to look into it.” Deng said flatly.

“Do you have kids?” Auyi asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you have a family. I got a three year-old and one on the way. Now I'm asking you: do you have family?”

“Comrade, are you sure this is the t-” Deng started before being interrupted. Both men turned as the door to the congressman's office opened, and there standing in the doorway was the lumpy form of Zhang Shu. He looked between Auyi and Deng.

“Am I interrupting anything?” he asked, pensive.

“Not at all. Auyi was just trying to get my attention.” Deng proclaimed.

Auyi looked back at Zhang Shu, and he looked down and smiled. “Good afternoon, comrade. Zhang Shu.”

“Xhang Auyi.” Auyi replied, and stood to bow.

Shu returned the favor, and turned to Deng. “Comrade, I have something I would like to discuss with you if this is the time.” he started, politely holding his hand out to Auyi.

“Depends on what it is.” Deng said.

“It's a matter surrounding foreign affairs. It concerns Russia. I took it on myself to meet comrade Dymtro Radek and have offered to take up his case.”

Deng's expression held a stony look and he nodded. “I will have to ask you to leave.” he told Auyi politely, “I'll take it up with some partners of mine in the Movement and we'll see what can be arranged. I will write.”

“Thank you.” Auyi said, standing. There was a bright optimism in his eyes, and he bowed low to the congressman before headed out the door.

As it shut behind Auyi, Deng turned to Shu, “Alright, so you spoke to the old priest.” he said, “What's your impression on him?”

“Hopefully, demanding. Stern even. But his followers really believe in him and his cause. I really am of the opinion that we should pursue his demands as it falls to the Russian matter.”

“Have you perhaps considered that this is a military matter, and not an issue of acting in regards to the outside?” Deng asked.

“I have, and I ask you to as chairman of the Congressional foreign affairs committee.” and as chairman to the January Second Movement's politburo in Congress, “Beyond simply being a military situation, establishing a firm Russian state I believe would be advantageous to China. As a matter of a close ally, and concessions Radek is willing to make in return for Chinese support.”

“What concessions is he willing to make?”

“Well he is willing to recognize Outer Manchuria and Vladivostok as Chinese territory. I didn't press the matter any further because I don't know the level of power I have for this sort of negotiation.”

“Outer Manchuria is Japanese. I suppose you recommend we go back to war with them then?”

“I know the situation.” Shu cried with exasperation, walking to the window. The two stood illuminated by the spring afternoon sun, “But I imagine we'll get to that when the time comes.”

“You are right we will. Because if it comes down to it I don't want to act without military advice. To invade Russia to for that matter.”

“I realize this.” Shu nodded, “But maybe at the least we can grant him a hearing, let him argue his case before the committee and begin a two-way dialog and not a desperate petition to Congress. If we can do anything after that, it's to take it to the Military Committee and get a joint assessment going. We can get Dymtro an ear that isn't just the QJ.”

Xong Deng gave it a moment of thought, and nodded. “Alright.” he said in compliance, “If it means anything I'll speak with the committee and get Radek in, he can present his case. Anything after that though is on you. You get to pull together the joint assessment and get the proposal to the floor. You get to speak with the military.”

“Understood.” said Shu thankfully, “I think this will turn out well.”