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I mean... I think the problem I'm having too is still just not completely knowing what Britain's limits are because the whole Anarchy thing. That, and I feel like me not completely getting that caused men to give the UK a history and state of being/culture that doesn't mix well.

Those two mixed together really have just made it hard to write posts I actually enjoy and feel actually contribute to the RP. I know I can write better than what I'm doing now, I'm just having trouble.

So, I feel like I should drop out of the RP, at least for a while, and leave Britain open for new people, some who can probably actually write things for it that don't feel half-assed and confusing. Because that's all I feel my posts are amounting to lately.
Maybe I should just leave PoW, and just enjoy it as a reader, and not a writer. Maybe I'll come back when I can actually write something that doesn't end up terrible.
Short post, but it's all I could do at the moment. I'm control+Ving every space, so it's taking a while to write things. I'll do something more detailed once i get a new keyboard.
HMNB Devonport

The British naval base in Devonport was surprisingly active for the hour of the night. Men all throughout the place were singing, laughing, drinking and boarding and loading supplies onto the warships that sat creaking in the harbor.

Without a word to the public, Prime Minister Pyke had ordered the Navy to prepare to set Sail for Africa. As soon as he heard that Spain and Ethiopia would be at war, he jumped at the chance to retake South Africa without having to worry about outside interference.

So, the docks were more lively than ever before. For the first time since the end of the Great War, Britain was to take the first step in rebuilding her Empire, and restoring what had been lost so long ago.

Sitting within a small office room, in one of the buildings along the docks was the Admiral of the Fleet, Sir David Cunningham, currently on the phone with Prime Minister Pyke.

"Is everything prepared?" asked Pyke in a hushed tone, despite being on a telephone.

"Yes, sir." replied Cunningham. "The men are enjoying themselves before we set sail at midnight. We will be sticking to our own shores until we hit international waters, after which the only people to spot the ships should be ships bound to or from the Americas. But if we're lucky, we won't be seen until we pass by Portugal."

"Good... Good." replied the Prime Minister. "Oh, and Admiral. What do you think of the plan for Canada? Do you believe that we can get men over there to search for the Royal Family?"

After a brief period of silence, Cunningham replied. "Yes, sir. If you want absolute secrecy, though, I would recommend sneaking them over along a civilian craft. Things could go South if a Canadian sees a British submarine rising up within their waters."

Another silence, this time from the Prime Minister.

"Yes... Yes, alright. I will speak with the appropriate people to get that arranged."

"Very good sir." replied Cunningham. "Well, if that is all."

"Yes, that is all. Thank you, Admiral. I wish your men the best of luck."

With a click, the line cut out, and the Admiral stood to leave his office, in order to get other officers to start rounding up the men.
British Governmental Research Laboratory, St. Kilda Island, Scotland

A young, redheaded girl in a typical white lab coat hurried down a blinding white hallway, arms firmly holding onto a yellow manila folder. Completely ignoring the hello's she received as she scurried along, she was focused on making it to the office at the end as soon as possible. Upon arriving, she entered the door, which had been left open, and entered an office which completely stood out from the rest of the facility, looking instead like it belonged in an old manor home than an underground lab.

Placing the folder on the desk, and opening it for the man sitting on the other side, the girl, in a shaky voice, spoke.

“Doctor. Everything is ready. The patients are sufficiently sleep deprived. Shall we move on to part two of the procedure?”

“Yes, I believe so. Have Mr. Edwards get the papers. We have to make sure that nothing goes wrong.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and, Karen. Calm down. There's nothing to be afraid of. The things we are doing here are for the good of the country, you know.”

The girl paused, and, without any sign of emotion, quickly responded. “Yes sir.”

Turning quickly, the girl hurried out of the office, and made her way back down the sterile hallway.

With a smile spread across thin lips, the doctor watched with a fixed gaze as his assistant walked away, only getting out of his chair once she was out of sight. Now standing, he looked down at the files on the folder, with the details of the patients he had exposed to a gas just a few days earlier.

“Delirious... Complaining about headaches... Seemingly losing his sanity? Perfect.”

Closing the folder, the doctor took a cigarette and lighter out of his front pocket and twirled the cigarette around in his fingers a bit before lighting it, and walking out of the office.

Upon reaching the assembly room, Doctor Pyke looked around, smiling with joy upon seeing Karen and “Mr. Edwards” enter from the opposite side. Hurrying to meet the man, Pyke thanked Karen, and sent her away, before engaging in conversation with Edwards.

“So, tell me Daniel. You checked everything out, right? There is no way we can get into any legal trouble if the subjects sign these waivers, correct?”

Edwards nodded, solemnly. “If you can manage to get signatures from the patients giving you permission to potentially kill them, then yes. I swear, boy. Your father would be furious if he actually knew all that went on down here.”

“Well” Doctor Pyke said “as long as you keep doing your job of supervising, then we won't have to worry about that. Am I correct, Mr. Edwards?”

Looking up at the doctor, the portly, older man nodded. “My lips are sealed. But ONLY because you are searching for a cure for my Emily. If at any point you go back on that agreement, I promise you, I will not hesitate to let your father in on this facilities secrets.”

“I know. I don't plan on it. Finding a cure for her is just another wonderful secret of the world I get to find, so I have no reason to break our agreement.”

Staying silent, Edwards handed Doctor Pyke the paperwork, before slowly leaving.

Sighing once the man was out of view, Pyke ran a hand though his hair, looking down at the paperwork in his other hand. After reading through it all, he walked over to somebody else, who he handed the paperwork to.

“Time to let our sleepy subjects out. Part 2 if beginning.”

Nodding, the person hurriedly left, coming back fifteen minutes later to tell Pyke that the subjects had been released, and were waiting in the other room for him.

Thanking the man, Pyke turned and walked into the other room, where the three patients were sitting in chairs, in front of a table with three clipboards on it.

Putting on his false, friendly face, Pyke sat down across from the three.

“Hello. I am Matthew Pyke, the head of this project, and I would just like to thank all of you for taking part in this study of mine. Your payment is ready now, but I just need you to sign these forums. They are just your typical closing agreements, you promising not to talk about the facility, the basics, you know? But this is all that stands in the way of you, and your money and beds at home. So, please, don't let me get in the way. Here you are.”

Handing pens to each of the men, Pyke watched as they basically signed their lives away without even reading that they were doing so. Smiling, although hardly for the reason the subjects thought he was, Pyke stood, holding their signed sheets safely against his chest, and taking a few steps back, as soldiers entered the room, behind the patients.

“Hey... What is this? What's going on?” One of the subjects asked as his arms were grabbed by the soldier. “Hey! Let go of me? What is this?!”

“Once again, I would like to thank you for taking part in this work. Your payment will be sent to your families, with an apology for their loss. Thank you for taking part in the first, and hopefully last, British VX Nerve Agent Recreation Study. Your participation is appreciated. Thank you for serving your country.”

With plenty of shouting, the three subjects were dragged away to another chamber that had been hidden from their view, where the rest of the scientists taking part in the project were already waiting. Pyke walked up behind them, looking into the room, where the soldiers and subjects were. Two of the soldiers had managed to get their subjects inside without trouble, but the third wasn't so easily able to rid himself of his, and was now getting attacked by the subjects, prompting one of the other soldiers to rush to attempt saving him.

“Stop.” Pyke said in a cold tone.

“But sir! If this keeps up, they'll kill him!” the soldier replied.

Rubbing his temples, Pyke glared at the soldier. “The timer has already started. If you go in there now, you risk killing everybody in this facility. Your friend knew this job came with risks. Now accept that, and stay out here.”

Ignoring Pyke completely, the soldier began to unlock the chamber door, in an attempt to get inside to save his friend. Hearing footsteps approaching him, he turned to fight Pyke off, so he could save his friend, only to be met with a gun between his eyes.

“If you are so eager to die, don't go putting the rest of us at risk.”

Without time for the soldier to react, Pyke pulled the trigger, spraying the inside of the mans head all over the lab wall with a noise loud enough to even scare the subjects currently mauling the soldier inside the chamber. Lighting another cigarette, Pyke walked back to the one way window, and watched the inside carefully. The rest of the staff followed suit once the shock of the gunshot stopped.

“Release it.” Pyke said calmly.

“Hey, wait. You said it was on a timer!” The remaining soldier shouted.

Pyke looked back at him for a second, but seeing the fear on his face, decided no action was needed. Looking down at a man about his age, Pyke repeated himself. “Do it.”

With a nod, the man pressed a button, and the hiss of the gas being released from vents sounded throughout the chamber, causing the subjects to begin to panic. They all hurried over to the door, and began to try banging on it, in hopes somebody would let them out, or perhaps in hopes they could break it down. Pyke, however, wasn't looking at them. He was looking at the beaten soldier, who had crawled away from the subjects, and was propped up in a corner.

“Keep an eye on him.” Pyke said to a woman with a clip board. “We can clearly see how he reacts, so he will give us the most information.”

Slightly upset by the order, the woman nodded. “Yes sir.”

After a few minutes, Pyke noticed as the soldier began to twitch, quickly ordering the woman watching to take notes. A few minutes later, one of the men banging on the door collapsed, as his legs gave out from under him, while another began freaking out as a large amount of liquid began to escape from his nose. A few more minutes in, and the final man collapsed on the floor, grabbing at his throat, while both the soldier and the man who's legs gave out began to vomit, while the man who was grabbing at his throat just moments before lay limp on the floor, his muscles spasming, while large amounts of drool began to escape his mouth. Soon after, nearly all the others were in this same state, except for the man with the runny nose, who only seemed to lost control of his bodily functions, but otherwise was still holding himself up fine.

A few more minutes in, and all of them were dead.

“Okay. That's it. Stop.” Pyke said, as vents turned on inside the chamber.

“You, and you. Come with me.” Pyke said to the man he had turn on the vents, and the woman he had taking notes.

Following Pyke, the three put on hazmat suits, and, once they got the clear, entered the chamber to observe the bodies.

“Muscle spasming, drooling, sweating, loss of bowel control, blistering of the skin... You have all of this down, I presume, Ms. Parker?”

“Yes, Doctor Pyke.”

“Good. Is there anything else either of you can see?”

After a brief pause, the woman spoke up. “Sir. I think this soldier is still alive.”

Turning, Pyke moved in next to the woman, Pyke looked closely. “Indeed. He is still breathing.” He said in a somewhat disappointed voice. “You.” Pyke said motioning to the man in with them. “Take him to the medical wing, right away. I want him thoroughly examined. I want to know why he is alive.”

“Yes sir!” The man replied, rushing over to the soldier, and picking him up.

“Why.” Pyke said, warranting confusion from the woman in with him. “I want to know why he is alive! I was sure I had it perfect!”

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Pyke looked at the woman, and saw the worried look on her face.

“I... I'm sorry. I know I should be happy he lived. But... I also want to get this right. You have to understand. We are at a disadvantage right now. Britain is a pushover. We can not defend ourselves against our neighbors. I want to have a guarantee. If France, or Spain, or even Germany attacks. I want to have this, because this and this alone will guarantee our safety. This alone, could guarantee great things for our nation.”
Dinh AaronMk said
Oi, I got an excuse. I'm the last poster.


Not anymore you aint. I actually made a second post in a 1-month timeframe.
10 Downing
Owen Pyke sat in an armchair, relaxing after finally being done with is work for the day. Eyes closed, he didn't even hear the footsteps coming down the hallway, leaving him in a slight panic as arms wrapped around him from behind. Despite the moment of terror, however, it took him only a second to recognize the arms, and he quickly stood up to greet them.

"My dear Merideth. How was your day, dear?"

Smiling at Pyke, the woman embraced him once more. "Oh, you know. A typical day around here. Fighting off a headache, longing for the moment I get to speak to my own husband, who shoos me away to speak to another woman."

Frowning, Pyke released from the hug. "Oh, please. Dear, you know that my secretary is nothing more than that."

"Oh really? Pyke's wife teased. "Then why is it you have a lunch scheduled with her next Tuesday?"

Eyes widening and face flushing, Pyke was about to open his mouth to ask how she knew, when she beat him to it with a reply.

"As usual, Thomas told me. And don't you dare threaten to fire him again."

"I won't, I won't! Besides, it's nothing more than a professional meeting. Just because I would like to enjoy food while it's happening doesn't mean it is anything more than that."

Green eyes furrowing under greying red hair, Meridith focused in on Pyke with a playful scowl. "Why do you even need a woman secretary, anyways. Thomas does an exceptional job, I believe. Why don't you go dine with him, instead?"

"Merideth, even when I did dine with him, you asked me if I still felt love for you, or if I felt a sudden urge to chase after men."

"Well, maybe I would just like it if I got to spend the day dining out with my husband again. Is that so bad?"

"Dear, I told you. I would love to take you out for lunch, but my schedule is always so packed, and I never can fit it in."

Actually frowning now, Meridith gave a snappy, witty response.

"That doesn't stop you from having luncheons with your flings."

Face redder than before, Owen stood tall, and raised his voice. "I told you! That's not what those are! It is professional, and that's all!"

Laughing as her husband steamed like a tea kettle, Merideth walked out of the room, only stopping and turning back to speak with Owen.

"Dear, surely you know I am just teasing you. No reason to get so angry. Especially when I have good news for you. Our son called today. He said that he is at the lab, and is going to start working on the project soon. He said you would know what he was talking about."

Calming down, Own nodded solemnly, and reponded in a serious tone. "Yes, I do."

Quickly realizing his tone made his wife worried, Pyke made up a quick cover story.

"You know him, though. I'm worried that he will get so involved in his work, he won't even sleep.He's always been like that, hasn't he?"

Laughing, Pyke smiled when he saw his wifes expression become happy once again.

"Anyways, what are we having for dinner?"

"Well, I am having lobster. You, on the other hand... Well, I think you can just have bread. Need to save room for your date with that young secretary of yours, after all."

Sighing, and giving in, Pyke entered the dining room for supper, knowing that the teasing about the lunch wouldn't stop for at least another week.

British Governmental Research Laboratory, St. Kilda Island, Scotland
A large, sprawling white structure sat alone in Northern St Kilda, far out of the sight of most civilians. The small town below was there solely to house the researchers and military members stuck on the island. Walking inside would instantly subject you to silence, as the blinding white, soundproof walls let no noise in, and no noise out. In fact, the entire building felt, and looked more like a sanitarium than a research facility at first glance. The buzzing florescent lights, the whitewashed interior, and the painful silence all seemed out of place for a facility that supposedly worked with heavy machinery, medical experiments and other such things.

However, once you move under the first floor, you begin to see everything you would expect. Test chambers, large machines, doctors, soldiers... It was obvious the upstairs was a disguise, keeping the true secrets hidden deep underground.

In a testing chamber on the third floor below the surface, a man with long, curly red hair stood in a stereotypical lab coat, in front of three other researchers, and a handful of soldiers. In a smooth voice, he was explaining to them the details of a new experiment they would be beginning.

"Now" he said, calmly. "Before we begin, does anybody here have any moral objections to what we are about to do? This is going to be a very important study, so I don't want any of you losing your stomach if anything goes wrong."

After waiting for five minutes, giving the people time to think it over, the head researcher clapped his hands together.

"Good! Now, remember. Do not tell these men the exact details. Just read these lines off. 'You will be undergoing a study, in which you will not be allowed to sleep. We will trust you to uphold your end of the agreement, of course. But, should we see anybody nodding off, we will begin to sound an airhorn within the chamber every thirty minutes. Though, we trust that this will not be necessary. In the chamber, of course, is everything that you will need for the next thirty days. Running water, dried foods, toilets, and chairs. We have also supplied books, and a television, which will be turned on from noon to six, daily. If, at any time we deem somebody unable to go through with the experiment, we will have military personnel escort you from the chamber, to a medical office. If you successfully complete the month, you will be paid in full for your time. Now, please follow me.' Do not, and I cannot stress this enough, release details about the Nocturne Gas. I want them to go in without knowledge that they will be under it's effects the entire time."

Once he finished speaking, a brown haired girl raised her hand to ask a question.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Well, I was just wondering, Doctor Pyke, what we will do if the gas has a negative effect?"

"Simple. We do nothing but observe."

"But sir! If something goes wrong, wouldn't it be unethical if we did nothing?"

"Ah, Lisa. If you would please remember, before I started explaining, I asked you all if you would have issues. You said nothing at the time. So what changed?"

"I... Nevermind."

"No, please. I insist. Tell us, what is on your mind?"

"Well, sir..." Lisa said, clearly very nervous. "I was just thinking that we might have done something if it goes wrong. That we wouldn't let anyone get hurt if we made a mistake."

Nodding with eyes closed, Pyke took what Lisa said to heart. He then let out a sigh, as he opened his eyes. "But, Lisa. How do we learn the negative effects that this might have if we do not observe? Do you see the problem? We can't know what negative side effects might occur if we let simple thoughts such as 'what if it hurts them' get in the way. Besides, each of them signed a contract. They agreed to stay for the duration of the expirement, unless it was deemed they were unable to continue. So, you see, as long as I deem them able to continue, they will stay in. So if I am willing to let them die for important data, then they will do so."

Looking terrified, Lisa stood there in a nervous sweat. "Sir... I... I wish to resign from the project."

"I assumed as much." Pyke said, before looking at one of the soldiers, and giving a nod. "Please escort Doctor Lisa from the lab, if you would."

Nodding, the soldier replied with a "Yes sir."

Laughing, Pyke responded. "Williams, you don't have to call me that. We've known each other for years, and your father is close friends with my father. Just call me Matthew. That way people don't mix me up with my him."

"Yes sir, err... Matthew."

With an awkward silence behind them, Williams took Lisa by the arm, and escorted her from the labs, to an elevator. When they got on, however, he pressed the down botton, rather than up.

"Excuse me." Lisa said, concerned. "You pressed down."

"Yes, I did." Williams replied.

"But... You were supposed to escort me out, what's going on?"

In a dry voice, with no emotion, Williams responded.

"I am sorry, maam. Matthew Pyke has ordered that no information leave this facility without his approval. You did not speak up when you had the chance, so to let you leave now would be letting you leave with classified information. I am sorry. He gave you a chance, but now it's too late."

Now in a complete panic, Lisa tried to break free of Williams' grip, but was not successful. Seeing no other option, she grabbed a pen from her front pocket, and moved to jab it into Williams, but was caught before the pen could reach.

"I am really sorry about this, maam." Williams said, as he snapped her wrist breaking it, and leaving her screaming in pain and crumpled on the floor, until the elevator stopped, at which point Williams just picked her up as she sat, sobbing in both pain and fear, as they moved toward a door labeled "HUMAN EXPIREMENTATION."

Back up above, Matthew Pyke just finished introducing himself to the volunteers, and reading the script off to them. Once finished, he clapped his hands together again, smiling with his eyes under his round glasses, as the soldiers escorted the six men inside the chamber that they would spend the next thirty days in.
I posted. Yay story progression!
10 Downing

“Thomas!”

The shout was heard throughout the building, originating from the Prime Ministers office, and was swiftly followed by the quick, flustered running of Thomas Shore, personal assistant to the Prime Minister.

Seconds later, the doors to Pyke's office flung open, nearly bashing in the face of his personal bodyguard. With a quick cowering apology to the man, Thomas made his way to Pyke, stopping at the desk with a quick, yet gentle exhale.

“You called, sir?”

“I did. I am going to need you to prepare for visitors, soon. The Governor General of Australia will be paying London a visit, and I want everything to be perfect. Wait, scratch that. I want everything BETTER than perfect. I want a car ready twenty-four seven to take him wherever he wants to go, gourmet food ready the second he arrives, and a room prepared that will make him not want to return home. I would also like the tea room ready for visitors, and the front of the building as pristine as possible for the pictures that will surely be captured.”

Still nodding from the mental notes he was making, Thomas replied with an affirmative.

“Oh, and, Thomas. I also have a letter for you to deliver to Banner. It is about the Moose Project, so it has to arrive today. I trust that you can handle this as well. Am I correct?”

“Yes sir! I will have everything ready right away, and this letter will meet General Banner's hands before sundown!”

“Good. You are the only one I trust to run those messages. Don't make me regret that.”

“No sir, never.”

“Good. Now get going. Time is of the essence, here. I, on the other hand, am stuck here reading over this damned petition. People have been complaining about taxes recently, but still expect us to fund that park project. They just don't get that without that money, we have no way of funding those parks. And then I have to sign off those papers Banner sent over yesterday about producing new firearms.”

Rubbing his temples, Pyke looked at his assistant, and sighed.

“Never get yourself stuck in the Prime Minister seat, Thomas. It always seems so much easier until you're here.” With a quick double take, as if remembering he gave Thomas orders, Pyke cleared his throat.

“Anyways. Get going. Time is-”

“of the essence, right? I got it.”

With a slight skip in his step as he passed Pyke's personal guard, Thomas left the room, off to complete the list of chores given to him by Pyke.
I'll be posting here once I think of something to have Britain do. Just figured I should say something since I've been quiet for a while.
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