- Pronouns
- She/Them
shouldnt every link with Zen's timeline effectively create a newtimeline (or even two new timelines)?
Last edited:
A Second Sunrise: Taiwan of 2020 Sent Back to 1911
- Thread starter ChrisProvidence
- Start date
- Original Modern Post-1900
Chapter 78: The Way Back Home
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Rio De Janeiro, Rio De Janeiro State, Brazil, 11 January 1935
"It's Journey Day!" Gisele da Silva shouted to her parents, before tugging at her father's hand. "Mamãe! Papai! It's Journey Day!"
"Gisele... It's five in the morning," her father Henrique groaned. "You're going to wake the neighbors, if you're not quiet."
"But Papai..."
"You'll wake your mother, too, dear. Five more minutes."
"...Okay," the child decided, before jumping into bed with them. "Five more minutes."
For her part, his wife Ana had somehow managed to not wake up despite their daughter's antics. Truth be told, Henrique never found out her secret after five years together, even when she asked.
Instead, she somehow managed to lay there, seemingly-unaware of the little girl who'd jumped into bed with them.
Not that she would mind, of course. Ana's always doted on her and Joao. And unlike me, he was lucky enough to be born with his mother's ability to sleep through anything.
Henrique wasn't so lucky, and he lay there with his eyes shut, trying to think of just what they'd do for this special day.
Journey Day, or as the Vatican called it, "Day of the Journey," was a Holy Day of Obligation for the Catholic Church, and that meant one, they'd all have to dress up nicely for the service, and two, he'd have to go to Mass today and on Sunday.
On the other hand, it was a national holiday in Brazil, China, America, France, Russia, the Ottoman Empire... and pretty much everywhere else, now that he thought about it. It made sense to him when it wasn't every day that an entire island got sent back in time with a century's worth of technology.
There would be those who would disagree with such a holiday, like his father-in-law. Then again, said father-in-law was one, dead, and two, kind of an asshole, now that he thought about it.
So honestly, Henrique didn't give a shit. Well, that much of a shit, if he was being honest.
He was just happy to have the day off from the shipyard to spend with his family on... something. He didn't really know what to do today when there was just so many choices.
There was the parade, of course. Every year the Chinese embassy and the Chinese-Brazilian community would hold a parade and invite the entire community to join them. There'd be floats, marching, and members of the community coming together to celebrate progress.
Oh, and Chinese Cookies. Can't forget those.
Even if Ana kept pointing out they technically aren't Chinese.
It was one of those things they argued about. Not really out of any malice or anything, but because they'd been doing that since they were kids. Ana would say one thing, then Henrique would say something else, then the two stubborn-headed friends-turned-couple would go back and forth until they either got bored or one of them admitted defeat.
In this case, Ana would argue that these cookies were flat versions of Fortune Cookies, which were made in Downtime America made them American. Henrique would point out that they came back in time with Taiwan and were adopted by the Chinese culture as a whole, which made them Chinese.
Not that it mattered much when their kids loved eating the things. At least they would, once Joao and Ana finally woke up.
"Papai..." a little boy's voice murmured next to him, "Wake up."
"Joao?" Sure enough, his and Ana's son was standing next to them. "Five more minutes."
"It's been five minutes," Gisele happily told him. "Now wake up!"
Revolutionary Park, Nanjing, National Capital Region, Republic of China, 2 February 1935
"Retirement?" Martin's old friend chuckled, "Honestly, I never thought you'd retire, Marty."
"We're getting old, Mike," the former spymaster sighed. "Fifty's as good a year to retire as any, so I thought I'd finish on top. Still have my clearance, just in case they need me, but I'm out by July."
"What, in case they accidentally open a Rift to another timeline?" Mike joked, "What's going on with that, anyways? Thought you'd want me to rush in with an army and kick their asses, or something."
"I don't think we have the resources for that, Mike," Marty chuckled, "Short of us basically declaring war on an alternate earth, there isn't much we can do. Besides dumping a bunch of our old equipment through there, anyways."
"Yeah... Wait, were you guys doing what?"
"Hey, it's not like anyone's going to miss a bunch of old guns and ammo that were going to be scrapped. Besides, the paperwork's all there."
"If you say so," Mike figured. Normally, a person would be a bit concerned about dumping all sorts of surplus equipment somewhere, but the retired Marine had stopped asking questions decades ago. "You guys ever try using the Particle Collider to reach somewhere else?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like another timeline that isn't dominated by psychotic, nepotistic, American fascists."
"They tried, but it's not exactly like we can enter in coordinates. This isn't Stargate, Mike."
"Eh, figures. So you guys managed to unlock the secret of how our island got sent back in time..."
"Yup," Marty said with a curt nod.
"...Except when you tried to replicate the Rift that sent us back in time, the only Rift you can open is to a world that is basically Code Geass but more-American." Marty nodded again. "So the only thing we feasibly can do is dump a bunch of our obsolete equipment that were going to be scrapped."
"Basically. For what it's worth, Mike, our crappier equipment is still better than their best stuff."
"Well, not like we're using that stuff, anyways," the retired Marine figured. "So, what are you going to do now?"
"Honestly?" Marty told his brother in all but name, "I have no idea. Probably a long vacation, then maybe I'll take up Nanjing University's offer to teach Foreign Affairs."
"And the MIB? Whoever's replacing you is going to have their work cut out for them when it comes to... whatever the Hell it is you guys have been doing for two decades."
"Good thing Rachel's getting promoted," Marty chuckled, "She's the one who's done most of 'Whatever the Hell we've been doing' for two decades."
Anchorage, Alaska, United States of America, 29 March 1935
Out of all the things in the world, Darrell Stone never thought he'd see this happening. Anchorage had been hit by the global drop in oil demand, but it somehow managed to keep growing.
Then again, that probably had something to do with the "Bering Strait Crossing" that was being built.
It was a bold project when he read about it in the newspaper, but that was before he read about the details of just how they planned to build a massive tunnel from Alaska to Siberia. Apparently, they planned to use a "Plasma-Based Tunnel Boring System" to effectively dig under the Bering Strait and use it to tunnel all the way to Russia.
Which probably explains the new Modular Small Reactor they shipped over here. That damn thing is going to be a giant battery powering that giant drill... cutter... whatever it is.
Honestly, that was way above Darrell's pay grade, and he was happy enough to just have more business coming through town to his arcade and bar. Business had been slow these last few years, and he'd almost thought about closing shop if it weren't for all the surveyors coming to town and setting up their HQ here.
It made sense to him. Yes, Darrell was biased on account of living here, but Anchorage was the largest city in Alaska with the largest infrastructure when it came to... pretty much everything, if he was being completely honest. It didn't matter if it was roads, railroads, shipping, or people, Anchorage had the most of everything, and everything had to move through there if it wanted to get to Wales.
And if that meant more people, money, and resources flowing into his adopted hometown, then so be it. With oil on the decline, shipping and fishing could only do so much for the town, and he'd hate to see it decay. It'd be a new breed that'd be coming here, full of workers as well as professionals this time around, but he didn't mind too much.
Their money was still good, and he always liked meeting new people. That, and his religious beliefs that strangers were a Test from God, which meant he was religiously-compelled to be welcoming to them if it meant Jesus would come back sooner.
"San Francisco 49ers Defeat Los Angeles Rams 7-0 In Pacific Coast League Opener," by Petra McNair, ESPN.com, 20 April 1935
With new uniforms, new players, and a new year of baseball, the two teams began the season at the Los Angeles Coliseum.
Starting pitcher Lin Hartman pitched a no-hitter to Casper Bergman, with a combined ten Rams players managing to even make contact with the ball.
Hartman's use of vaunted knuckleball has led to high expectations after the free agent was picked up during free agency. Bergman, his teammate who has been catching for him since their days at the Naval Academy, was also acquired for his rare talent at catching the new pitch.
On the offensive side, switch hitter Ferdie Ayers hit a two-run homer into left, while Gerald Eisner blasted an inside the park home run into deep center.
The 49ers have a tough act to follow after beating the Los Angeles Angels in 7 in the Pacific Series, the American League Champion Boston Red Sox in the American Series, then coming back from a 0-3 loss to beat the Haishenwai Hope in the World Series.
The Rams are looking for their first win since their rebuild last year, with newly-acquired rookie Dizzy Dean expected to pitch tomorrow in game 2 of a 3 game series between the inter-state rivals.
***
Interested in purchasing the authentic jerseys from the teams? Go to pclshop.com for all of your authentic PCL merchandise!
Tacna, Confederation of Peru and Bolivia, 29 May 1935
Jose Herrera looked at the blueprints, only to sigh again. Tacna was to be the new capital of the newly-formed Confederation due to its historical significance and neutrality.
The downside to not using Lima or Sucre as the new capital was that they'd effectively have to build a capital from scratch. Housing needed to be expanded, which meant utilities would have to be extended (assuming they even existed in the first place), and that was before they got to the part about literally having to build the institutions from the ground-up.
The formation of the Confederation had been nothing short of a miracle. Radicals and Socialists in Sucre and Lima had come to power in the "Pink Tide" of the last two decades, and the two formerly-separate governments had come together in the name of ideology, cooperation, and fighting the authoritarian regimes of Augusto Leguia and Hernando Siles.
That had been almost half a decade ago, and the task of reconstruction of the now-single country had fallen to the new Radical-Socialist alliance. With aid from the United States, France, and China (though mostly China), the dual nations had been seen several improvements.
Which is a fancy way of saying fewer people die young, starve to death, die in childbirth, or die young of starvation.
Well, we have that going for us.
Not to mention all the factories that were bringing people in with the promise of work. People were moving to the cities because that's where all the jobs were being created, while rural communities were where most of the jobs were being lost.
Now, Jose wasn't an economist, but he knew that not all of those jobs would leave the rural farms and mines. But at the same time, he also knew that it took fewer people to man a combine harvester or an mining excavator than it did when they used pickaxes and hoes.
Honestly, he was in favor of it. Having worked in the mines and fields before he'd entered the Jesuits' school, he knew full well that those jobs sucked. Sure, they were honest jobs, but most jobs that weren't spent enraging people on the internet were honest jobs.
The only problem for him was that those cities now needed to house all of these new people from the rurals. Ideally before they start building slums and shantytowns.
That was why the new government needed people like him. While he initially picked urban planning out of an off-hand suggestion from one of the Jesuit priests at CSCS in Sucre, it turned out that people like him were in high demand to help build housing as quickly as possible.
It was a daunting task that was no doubt complicated by the fact they couldn't just "Do what the Chinese did." After all, the Confederation didn't have the same kind of machinery or manufacturing facilities that the Chinese did, despite the the Chinese Embassy's offer ofsupport and advisors.
Of course, that had been years ago, during the big rush to the cities. These days, he was working on more-ambitious housing projects that would, quite literally, dwarf the quickly-build blocks he'd spent half a decade in.
It was an ambitious project undertaken by the government, but these new apartment complexes would incorporate Modernist utilities like Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning (HVAC) and the "New Andean Architecture" of the Lost History's Freddy Mamani.
The reference images he'd seen were promising, to say the least. While the change in architecture would no doubt increase costs, Jose preferred these to the more-utilitarian design of the Blocks they'd built in a hurry.
Besides, all that lithium revenue has to go to something, right? Better that than the Swiss bank accounts of Leguia and Siles.
The Parthenon, Athens, Republic of Greece, 20 June 1935
"With the return of the Elgin Marbles to Greece," Ottoman ambassador Nikos Tzortzis said to the crowd, "The Greek people of our two nations can finally stand united. Whether we be Muslim of Christian, a citizen of Athens or Constantinople, the return of these stolen artifacts is long overdue."
"These marbles will be reattached to the Parthenon as part of its restoration. While it would take years to restore this great work to its former glory, I am happy to announce that the archaeologists of our two nations will work hand and hand in this great endeavor."
There would be more to say, but Ambassador Tzortzis needed a moment to collect his thoughts. After all, the "Greek Question" had been an ongoing diplomatic issue in the wake of the war, as the Ottoman Greeks (particularly the Muslims) had a mixed opinion when it came to the new Greek Republic.
There were those who hailed the Greek Republic as their homeland, but they weren't much of a problem since most of them immigrated after the Great War. Yet there where many who had stayed, whether for economic opportunities, because they were Muslims who didn't want to live in a predominantly-Christian nation, or the simple fact that the Ottoman Empire was their home.
Nikos was all three. He was a Muslim Pontic Greek who worked for the Ottoman government as a diplomat, and his entire family wasn't about to uproot themselves after living there for centuries.
If he was being honest with himself, he didn't know if the Greek Question would ever be answered. He liked to think that Greeks like him could live their lives in peace, but he knew that the tensions between Athens and Constantinople were centuries-old.
Nevertheless, the long-awaited return of the Elgin Marbles to Athens had done much to improve relations between Constantinople and Athens. States were recognized, and relations were normalized because of this event.
Tzartzis knew that it would take more than this to heal old wounds (assuming they could ever be healed in the first place), but they had to start somewhere.
What better place to start than the return of stolen artifacts?
Tolkien Residence, Oxford, Republic of Britain, 1 July 1935
He knew that a parent should never have to bury their child, and he knew full well that antagonizing one's children ought to be avoided at all costs. It was times like these that he firmly practiced the latter as he looked intently at his three sons from beyond his screen.
"Your party encounters a traveling caravan from the East. Their escorts look hardly different from the people that you have been fighting, but they do not seem to be aware of your presence. What do you do?"
"Eldritch blast-" his son Christopher said, only for John and Michael to shake their heads. "Oh come on!"
"We're talking with them," his eldest son answered, and his middle brother agreed. "Not after what happened last time."
Christopher pouted. "Those were bad guys!"
"You didn't know that when you Eldritch Blasted them, Chris," Michael pointed out. "And our mission as emissaries the Blue Wizards is to not kill the people we were sent to help."
"...Fine. But if they start coming after us, then I'll start Eldritch Blasting them."
"We decide to talk with them," John says to his father. "I approach them without any weapons drawn."
'"Who are you?' says the leader of the caravan. His weapon is drawn, and he looks at you with a wary face. 'We are nothing more than travelers, so please, leave us be.'"
"As are we," John says in-character. "We are on a mission to assist those Easterlings who reject the teachings of Melkor and Sauron."
To this, Michael could only facepalm. Whatever cunning they had had gone out the window when his brother outright gave away their allegiance.
"I prepare to cast Teleport," says Christopher. "Just in case."
"Roll for Charisma," Tolkien says to his eldest. "DC of eighteen."
"I roll..." the eldest son said anxiously, "Sixteen. Add three more from my skills, and I have... nineteen."
Tolkien could hear his two younger boys breathe sighs of relief.
"The man says to you, 'Well met, traveler. We are refugees headed to the West to flee from those you claim to fight. You may join us on our journey."
"Can we convince them to join us?" Christopher asks out of character, "They could join us at the Citadel with the rest of our side."
"Best let John do the talking," says Michael. "If you want."
"Alright," says the eldest Tolkien son, "I would like to persuade him to travel towards the Citadel."
"Very well," Tolkien agreed. "Roll for Charisma. DC of... twenty."
"That seems a bit excessive, don't you think?" asks Michael. "Even for a diplomat like John."
"You're trying to convince a complete stranger you just met to travel towards your fortress. They don't trust you, and if I may be completely honest, I wouldn't trust three complete strangers I just met while I was fleeing for my lives, if I could help it."
"It's your call, John," Michael relented. "If you want to back out, we won't hold it against you."
"No, let's do it," John said with a newfound determination. "Rolling... now."
"Well," asked Christopher, "What is it?"
"...Nat 20."
"It's Journey Day!" Gisele da Silva shouted to her parents, before tugging at her father's hand. "Mamãe! Papai! It's Journey Day!"
"Gisele... It's five in the morning," her father Henrique groaned. "You're going to wake the neighbors, if you're not quiet."
"But Papai..."
"You'll wake your mother, too, dear. Five more minutes."
"...Okay," the child decided, before jumping into bed with them. "Five more minutes."
For her part, his wife Ana had somehow managed to not wake up despite their daughter's antics. Truth be told, Henrique never found out her secret after five years together, even when she asked.
Instead, she somehow managed to lay there, seemingly-unaware of the little girl who'd jumped into bed with them.
Not that she would mind, of course. Ana's always doted on her and Joao. And unlike me, he was lucky enough to be born with his mother's ability to sleep through anything.
Henrique wasn't so lucky, and he lay there with his eyes shut, trying to think of just what they'd do for this special day.
Journey Day, or as the Vatican called it, "Day of the Journey," was a Holy Day of Obligation for the Catholic Church, and that meant one, they'd all have to dress up nicely for the service, and two, he'd have to go to Mass today and on Sunday.
On the other hand, it was a national holiday in Brazil, China, America, France, Russia, the Ottoman Empire... and pretty much everywhere else, now that he thought about it. It made sense to him when it wasn't every day that an entire island got sent back in time with a century's worth of technology.
There would be those who would disagree with such a holiday, like his father-in-law. Then again, said father-in-law was one, dead, and two, kind of an asshole, now that he thought about it.
So honestly, Henrique didn't give a shit. Well, that much of a shit, if he was being honest.
He was just happy to have the day off from the shipyard to spend with his family on... something. He didn't really know what to do today when there was just so many choices.
There was the parade, of course. Every year the Chinese embassy and the Chinese-Brazilian community would hold a parade and invite the entire community to join them. There'd be floats, marching, and members of the community coming together to celebrate progress.
Oh, and Chinese Cookies. Can't forget those.
Even if Ana kept pointing out they technically aren't Chinese.
It was one of those things they argued about. Not really out of any malice or anything, but because they'd been doing that since they were kids. Ana would say one thing, then Henrique would say something else, then the two stubborn-headed friends-turned-couple would go back and forth until they either got bored or one of them admitted defeat.
In this case, Ana would argue that these cookies were flat versions of Fortune Cookies, which were made in Downtime America made them American. Henrique would point out that they came back in time with Taiwan and were adopted by the Chinese culture as a whole, which made them Chinese.
Not that it mattered much when their kids loved eating the things. At least they would, once Joao and Ana finally woke up.
"Papai..." a little boy's voice murmured next to him, "Wake up."
"Joao?" Sure enough, his and Ana's son was standing next to them. "Five more minutes."
"It's been five minutes," Gisele happily told him. "Now wake up!"
Revolutionary Park, Nanjing, National Capital Region, Republic of China, 2 February 1935
"Retirement?" Martin's old friend chuckled, "Honestly, I never thought you'd retire, Marty."
"We're getting old, Mike," the former spymaster sighed. "Fifty's as good a year to retire as any, so I thought I'd finish on top. Still have my clearance, just in case they need me, but I'm out by July."
"What, in case they accidentally open a Rift to another timeline?" Mike joked, "What's going on with that, anyways? Thought you'd want me to rush in with an army and kick their asses, or something."
"I don't think we have the resources for that, Mike," Marty chuckled, "Short of us basically declaring war on an alternate earth, there isn't much we can do. Besides dumping a bunch of our old equipment through there, anyways."
"Yeah... Wait, were you guys doing what?"
"Hey, it's not like anyone's going to miss a bunch of old guns and ammo that were going to be scrapped. Besides, the paperwork's all there."
"If you say so," Mike figured. Normally, a person would be a bit concerned about dumping all sorts of surplus equipment somewhere, but the retired Marine had stopped asking questions decades ago. "You guys ever try using the Particle Collider to reach somewhere else?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like another timeline that isn't dominated by psychotic, nepotistic, American fascists."
"They tried, but it's not exactly like we can enter in coordinates. This isn't Stargate, Mike."
"Eh, figures. So you guys managed to unlock the secret of how our island got sent back in time..."
"Yup," Marty said with a curt nod.
"...Except when you tried to replicate the Rift that sent us back in time, the only Rift you can open is to a world that is basically Code Geass but more-American." Marty nodded again. "So the only thing we feasibly can do is dump a bunch of our obsolete equipment that were going to be scrapped."
"Basically. For what it's worth, Mike, our crappier equipment is still better than their best stuff."
"Well, not like we're using that stuff, anyways," the retired Marine figured. "So, what are you going to do now?"
"Honestly?" Marty told his brother in all but name, "I have no idea. Probably a long vacation, then maybe I'll take up Nanjing University's offer to teach Foreign Affairs."
"And the MIB? Whoever's replacing you is going to have their work cut out for them when it comes to... whatever the Hell it is you guys have been doing for two decades."
"Good thing Rachel's getting promoted," Marty chuckled, "She's the one who's done most of 'Whatever the Hell we've been doing' for two decades."
Anchorage, Alaska, United States of America, 29 March 1935
Out of all the things in the world, Darrell Stone never thought he'd see this happening. Anchorage had been hit by the global drop in oil demand, but it somehow managed to keep growing.
Then again, that probably had something to do with the "Bering Strait Crossing" that was being built.
It was a bold project when he read about it in the newspaper, but that was before he read about the details of just how they planned to build a massive tunnel from Alaska to Siberia. Apparently, they planned to use a "Plasma-Based Tunnel Boring System" to effectively dig under the Bering Strait and use it to tunnel all the way to Russia.
Which probably explains the new Modular Small Reactor they shipped over here. That damn thing is going to be a giant battery powering that giant drill... cutter... whatever it is.
Honestly, that was way above Darrell's pay grade, and he was happy enough to just have more business coming through town to his arcade and bar. Business had been slow these last few years, and he'd almost thought about closing shop if it weren't for all the surveyors coming to town and setting up their HQ here.
It made sense to him. Yes, Darrell was biased on account of living here, but Anchorage was the largest city in Alaska with the largest infrastructure when it came to... pretty much everything, if he was being completely honest. It didn't matter if it was roads, railroads, shipping, or people, Anchorage had the most of everything, and everything had to move through there if it wanted to get to Wales.
And if that meant more people, money, and resources flowing into his adopted hometown, then so be it. With oil on the decline, shipping and fishing could only do so much for the town, and he'd hate to see it decay. It'd be a new breed that'd be coming here, full of workers as well as professionals this time around, but he didn't mind too much.
Their money was still good, and he always liked meeting new people. That, and his religious beliefs that strangers were a Test from God, which meant he was religiously-compelled to be welcoming to them if it meant Jesus would come back sooner.
"San Francisco 49ers Defeat Los Angeles Rams 7-0 In Pacific Coast League Opener," by Petra McNair, ESPN.com, 20 April 1935
With new uniforms, new players, and a new year of baseball, the two teams began the season at the Los Angeles Coliseum.
Starting pitcher Lin Hartman pitched a no-hitter to Casper Bergman, with a combined ten Rams players managing to even make contact with the ball.
Hartman's use of vaunted knuckleball has led to high expectations after the free agent was picked up during free agency. Bergman, his teammate who has been catching for him since their days at the Naval Academy, was also acquired for his rare talent at catching the new pitch.
On the offensive side, switch hitter Ferdie Ayers hit a two-run homer into left, while Gerald Eisner blasted an inside the park home run into deep center.
The 49ers have a tough act to follow after beating the Los Angeles Angels in 7 in the Pacific Series, the American League Champion Boston Red Sox in the American Series, then coming back from a 0-3 loss to beat the Haishenwai Hope in the World Series.
The Rams are looking for their first win since their rebuild last year, with newly-acquired rookie Dizzy Dean expected to pitch tomorrow in game 2 of a 3 game series between the inter-state rivals.
***
Interested in purchasing the authentic jerseys from the teams? Go to pclshop.com for all of your authentic PCL merchandise!
Tacna, Confederation of Peru and Bolivia, 29 May 1935
Jose Herrera looked at the blueprints, only to sigh again. Tacna was to be the new capital of the newly-formed Confederation due to its historical significance and neutrality.
The downside to not using Lima or Sucre as the new capital was that they'd effectively have to build a capital from scratch. Housing needed to be expanded, which meant utilities would have to be extended (assuming they even existed in the first place), and that was before they got to the part about literally having to build the institutions from the ground-up.
The formation of the Confederation had been nothing short of a miracle. Radicals and Socialists in Sucre and Lima had come to power in the "Pink Tide" of the last two decades, and the two formerly-separate governments had come together in the name of ideology, cooperation, and fighting the authoritarian regimes of Augusto Leguia and Hernando Siles.
That had been almost half a decade ago, and the task of reconstruction of the now-single country had fallen to the new Radical-Socialist alliance. With aid from the United States, France, and China (though mostly China), the dual nations had been seen several improvements.
Which is a fancy way of saying fewer people die young, starve to death, die in childbirth, or die young of starvation.
Well, we have that going for us.
Not to mention all the factories that were bringing people in with the promise of work. People were moving to the cities because that's where all the jobs were being created, while rural communities were where most of the jobs were being lost.
Now, Jose wasn't an economist, but he knew that not all of those jobs would leave the rural farms and mines. But at the same time, he also knew that it took fewer people to man a combine harvester or an mining excavator than it did when they used pickaxes and hoes.
Honestly, he was in favor of it. Having worked in the mines and fields before he'd entered the Jesuits' school, he knew full well that those jobs sucked. Sure, they were honest jobs, but most jobs that weren't spent enraging people on the internet were honest jobs.
The only problem for him was that those cities now needed to house all of these new people from the rurals. Ideally before they start building slums and shantytowns.
That was why the new government needed people like him. While he initially picked urban planning out of an off-hand suggestion from one of the Jesuit priests at CSCS in Sucre, it turned out that people like him were in high demand to help build housing as quickly as possible.
It was a daunting task that was no doubt complicated by the fact they couldn't just "Do what the Chinese did." After all, the Confederation didn't have the same kind of machinery or manufacturing facilities that the Chinese did, despite the the Chinese Embassy's offer ofsupport and advisors.
Of course, that had been years ago, during the big rush to the cities. These days, he was working on more-ambitious housing projects that would, quite literally, dwarf the quickly-build blocks he'd spent half a decade in.
It was an ambitious project undertaken by the government, but these new apartment complexes would incorporate Modernist utilities like Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning (HVAC) and the "New Andean Architecture" of the Lost History's Freddy Mamani.
The reference images he'd seen were promising, to say the least. While the change in architecture would no doubt increase costs, Jose preferred these to the more-utilitarian design of the Blocks they'd built in a hurry.
Besides, all that lithium revenue has to go to something, right? Better that than the Swiss bank accounts of Leguia and Siles.
The Parthenon, Athens, Republic of Greece, 20 June 1935
"With the return of the Elgin Marbles to Greece," Ottoman ambassador Nikos Tzortzis said to the crowd, "The Greek people of our two nations can finally stand united. Whether we be Muslim of Christian, a citizen of Athens or Constantinople, the return of these stolen artifacts is long overdue."
"These marbles will be reattached to the Parthenon as part of its restoration. While it would take years to restore this great work to its former glory, I am happy to announce that the archaeologists of our two nations will work hand and hand in this great endeavor."
There would be more to say, but Ambassador Tzortzis needed a moment to collect his thoughts. After all, the "Greek Question" had been an ongoing diplomatic issue in the wake of the war, as the Ottoman Greeks (particularly the Muslims) had a mixed opinion when it came to the new Greek Republic.
There were those who hailed the Greek Republic as their homeland, but they weren't much of a problem since most of them immigrated after the Great War. Yet there where many who had stayed, whether for economic opportunities, because they were Muslims who didn't want to live in a predominantly-Christian nation, or the simple fact that the Ottoman Empire was their home.
Nikos was all three. He was a Muslim Pontic Greek who worked for the Ottoman government as a diplomat, and his entire family wasn't about to uproot themselves after living there for centuries.
If he was being honest with himself, he didn't know if the Greek Question would ever be answered. He liked to think that Greeks like him could live their lives in peace, but he knew that the tensions between Athens and Constantinople were centuries-old.
Nevertheless, the long-awaited return of the Elgin Marbles to Athens had done much to improve relations between Constantinople and Athens. States were recognized, and relations were normalized because of this event.
Tzartzis knew that it would take more than this to heal old wounds (assuming they could ever be healed in the first place), but they had to start somewhere.
What better place to start than the return of stolen artifacts?
Tolkien Residence, Oxford, Republic of Britain, 1 July 1935
He knew that a parent should never have to bury their child, and he knew full well that antagonizing one's children ought to be avoided at all costs. It was times like these that he firmly practiced the latter as he looked intently at his three sons from beyond his screen.
"Your party encounters a traveling caravan from the East. Their escorts look hardly different from the people that you have been fighting, but they do not seem to be aware of your presence. What do you do?"
"Eldritch blast-" his son Christopher said, only for John and Michael to shake their heads. "Oh come on!"
"We're talking with them," his eldest son answered, and his middle brother agreed. "Not after what happened last time."
Christopher pouted. "Those were bad guys!"
"You didn't know that when you Eldritch Blasted them, Chris," Michael pointed out. "And our mission as emissaries the Blue Wizards is to not kill the people we were sent to help."
"...Fine. But if they start coming after us, then I'll start Eldritch Blasting them."
"We decide to talk with them," John says to his father. "I approach them without any weapons drawn."
'"Who are you?' says the leader of the caravan. His weapon is drawn, and he looks at you with a wary face. 'We are nothing more than travelers, so please, leave us be.'"
"As are we," John says in-character. "We are on a mission to assist those Easterlings who reject the teachings of Melkor and Sauron."
To this, Michael could only facepalm. Whatever cunning they had had gone out the window when his brother outright gave away their allegiance.
"I prepare to cast Teleport," says Christopher. "Just in case."
"Roll for Charisma," Tolkien says to his eldest. "DC of eighteen."
"I roll..." the eldest son said anxiously, "Sixteen. Add three more from my skills, and I have... nineteen."
Tolkien could hear his two younger boys breathe sighs of relief.
"The man says to you, 'Well met, traveler. We are refugees headed to the West to flee from those you claim to fight. You may join us on our journey."
"Can we convince them to join us?" Christopher asks out of character, "They could join us at the Citadel with the rest of our side."
"Best let John do the talking," says Michael. "If you want."
"Alright," says the eldest Tolkien son, "I would like to persuade him to travel towards the Citadel."
"Very well," Tolkien agreed. "Roll for Charisma. DC of... twenty."
"That seems a bit excessive, don't you think?" asks Michael. "Even for a diplomat like John."
"You're trying to convince a complete stranger you just met to travel towards your fortress. They don't trust you, and if I may be completely honest, I wouldn't trust three complete strangers I just met while I was fleeing for my lives, if I could help it."
"It's your call, John," Michael relented. "If you want to back out, we won't hold it against you."
"No, let's do it," John said with a newfound determination. "Rolling... now."
"Well," asked Christopher, "What is it?"
"...Nat 20."
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ChrisProvidence
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Effectively yes.
In practice, the Chinese would access the same timeline that has all of the links.
So if they were to dump a bunch of surplus gear into the other timeline every month, it would create a new timeline every time they toss a few crates of rifles and ammo through the Rift.
But if they do this on February 1st and then do the same thing on March 1st, they would encounter a timeline that had both deliveries when they opened the Rift again on April 1st.
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- Location
- India
Can you make a scene where Koh I Nur returned to India?
ChrisProvidence
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Next chapter
So how long til the rest of the world catches up with China in modern standards
ChrisProvidence
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Anyways, that will probably be the last you hear of Zen's timeline (at least until I find the time to do a Quest, anyways).
So for now, the Rift is basically a place to dump that literal mountain of leftover weapons and ammo that New China wasn't using or is phasing out.
And occasionally hit golf balls into, which has happened at least twice.
So for now, the Rift is basically a place to dump that literal mountain of leftover weapons and ammo that New China wasn't using or is phasing out.
And occasionally hit golf balls into, which has happened at least twice.
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ChrisProvidence
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Depends on the country.
Accord countries in Asia are basically almost there, while America, Russia, the Ottomans, and Europe are catching up rapidly, the rest of the Americas is probably ten years out, and Africa is probably 20.
In terms of technological parity, rather than standard of living, China will probably have some sort of tech advantage for decades, if not the rest of the century.
Sakuya's Butler
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JRR Tolkien plays D&D with his sons....
Yes, those are manly tears I'm weeping.
Gary Gygax (whom sadly won't be born in this timeline, as his birthday will be in 1938) would have the biggest smug as hell shit-eating grin you'd ever see in your whole life.
Now just have C.S.Lewis pop on by and/or a few of the other Inklings, and join in. That or H.G.Wells, who'd be 71 that year.
Yes, those are manly tears I'm weeping.
Gary Gygax (whom sadly won't be born in this timeline, as his birthday will be in 1938) would have the biggest smug as hell shit-eating grin you'd ever see in your whole life.
Now just have C.S.Lewis pop on by and/or a few of the other Inklings, and join in. That or H.G.Wells, who'd be 71 that year.
ChrisProvidence
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Did a little reworking on the new chapter to include a reference picture for the architectural style they're going for in the Confederation.
I remember seeing Mamani's work years ago, and I think it would be a good architectural movement as a sort of South American counterpart to the North American Art Deco, Asia's mix of Cultural-Renaissance and New Modern, and the European mix of Art Deco and Modernism (because the French thought that Soviet and Brutalist architecture is ugly AF).
It's an under-discussed topic in this story, and I think it would be interesting to dive into.
Also so I can have an excuse to read about and geek out about different forms of architecture while ranting about my hatred of Soviet and Brutalist architecture.
I remember seeing Mamani's work years ago, and I think it would be a good architectural movement as a sort of South American counterpart to the North American Art Deco, Asia's mix of Cultural-Renaissance and New Modern, and the European mix of Art Deco and Modernism (because the French thought that Soviet and Brutalist architecture is ugly AF).
It's an under-discussed topic in this story, and I think it would be interesting to dive into.
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Ah, I also looking for some interesting architecture design, too. Because I also don't like the brutalist-lack of interesting design here.
p/s: just wondering, will you try to make new story later on for other topic ? (for example a modern-cyberpunk world got connection into xianxia world ? At least the more reasonable one instead of typical 'you dare' dumb-murder hobo that cliche' xianxia story tend to have, of course that doesn't mean there are no idiot like that, just not appear like 90% of any cultivator you meet)
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- Location
- San Francisco
Does Taiwan support any arms of Marvel or Disney? While I suspect the McU is dead and buried for the most part, i am curious to see how superheroes might be reinterpreted on this timeline. Maybe more super spies helping to sniff out corruption and less gods springing from the machine? A lot of superheroes did get their starts in detective comics of the 30s and 40s
Some proto-superheroes did exist before Batman and Superman, but they resembled the former more than the latter, being very skilled human beings (such as Fantômas and Zorro) that straddled both sides of the law, rather than modern demigods with fantastical superpowers. I could see people resembling OTL superheroes emerge from Italy however, as the Hercules-like Maciste, co-authored by Gabriele D'Annunzio, had appeared in movies as early as the 1910s, and borrowing from the tradition of ancient epics and medieval chansons could go a long way towards justifying the larger-than-life nature of superheroes, as a deliberate throwback to the past, in more or less the same way Spielberg conceived the Indiana Jones saga as a pulp throwback. You could have superheroes not that dissimilar from Wonder Woman hanging out in modern-day Rome after they were thrust forward in time by the same event that sent Taiwan back in time, or a modern-day Welshman emulating Iron Man while being clad from head to toe in recovered Arthurian artifacts.
ChrisProvidence
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Yeah, that's kinda why I don't like brutalism. It's just so insufferably boring.
As for a new story, I'm open to doing that when I have the time, but it's in the future.
It’s That Simple
ChrisProvidence
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Marseille, France, 14 August 1935
"That's it?" Jean Brodeur's niece and protege asked him, before looking at the designs. "The cabinet opposed these buildings because of aesthetics, of all things?"
"More or less," the editor confirmed, before looking over the Brutalist and Stalinist designs. "Not with those words, Elise."
"And how exactly did they describe it, uncle?"
"They said it was 'fucking ugly.' And they would be right."
"They do have a point," she relented, before looking at the Lost History pictures. "Ugh... It is as if Joseph Stalin himself sucked the soul out of it all. No wonder the Russians overthrew the Union."
Now, Jean knew it was due to a variety of socio-economic issues as well as political turmoil, but he wasn't about to stop his charge anytime soon.
I swear, she's even more stubborn than her mother.
"You are more correct than you may think," he decided, before pointing to the concrete architecture. "Brutalist architecture, while cost-efficient to a certain degree, could affect one's perception of those who build it. Tell me, Elise, what do you think when you see this picture?"
"I think it is... cold," she began, seemingly lost in thought. "As if whoever designed it cared little for the people in it and only for its purpose."
It was a start, but Jean knew his niece had more to say.
"Go on..."
"And as I said, it seems as if there's no soul." He could hear the rising frustration in her voice. "No life. No personality. No individualism. As if it is a building stripped of any semblance of personality."
"I see... And what does that say about the people who designed it?"
"I would... I would say that all of those things applied to its designer and the people who had it built like that. That in all likelihood, those people are... utilitarian. Machine-like, in the sense that they have no personality, soul, individualism. As if they were machines who were designing these buildings for other machines."
"Fascinating," he surmised, before having her look at it again. "And that is why you do not see buildings like this in Paris, Berlin, London, Rome, or Madrid."
"Because the people who made them would come off as Godless, soulless machines?"
"No. Because people would think that we are Godless, soulless machines and believe that our socialist ideals are for Godless, soulless machines."
"So rejecting this architecture..." Elise began, before looking at the sample once more, "Was a conscious decision to prevent that from happening?"
"In a way, yes," Jean admitted. And he would know, seeing that he was in the room when it happened. "That, and how Brutalism and Stalinist Architecture just look fucking ugly."
"That's it?" Jean Brodeur's niece and protege asked him, before looking at the designs. "The cabinet opposed these buildings because of aesthetics, of all things?"
"More or less," the editor confirmed, before looking over the Brutalist and Stalinist designs. "Not with those words, Elise."
"And how exactly did they describe it, uncle?"
"They said it was 'fucking ugly.' And they would be right."
"They do have a point," she relented, before looking at the Lost History pictures. "Ugh... It is as if Joseph Stalin himself sucked the soul out of it all. No wonder the Russians overthrew the Union."
Now, Jean knew it was due to a variety of socio-economic issues as well as political turmoil, but he wasn't about to stop his charge anytime soon.
I swear, she's even more stubborn than her mother.
"You are more correct than you may think," he decided, before pointing to the concrete architecture. "Brutalist architecture, while cost-efficient to a certain degree, could affect one's perception of those who build it. Tell me, Elise, what do you think when you see this picture?"
"I think it is... cold," she began, seemingly lost in thought. "As if whoever designed it cared little for the people in it and only for its purpose."
It was a start, but Jean knew his niece had more to say.
"Go on..."
"And as I said, it seems as if there's no soul." He could hear the rising frustration in her voice. "No life. No personality. No individualism. As if it is a building stripped of any semblance of personality."
"I see... And what does that say about the people who designed it?"
"I would... I would say that all of those things applied to its designer and the people who had it built like that. That in all likelihood, those people are... utilitarian. Machine-like, in the sense that they have no personality, soul, individualism. As if they were machines who were designing these buildings for other machines."
"Fascinating," he surmised, before having her look at it again. "And that is why you do not see buildings like this in Paris, Berlin, London, Rome, or Madrid."
"Because the people who made them would come off as Godless, soulless machines?"
"No. Because people would think that we are Godless, soulless machines and believe that our socialist ideals are for Godless, soulless machines."
"So rejecting this architecture..." Elise began, before looking at the sample once more, "Was a conscious decision to prevent that from happening?"
"In a way, yes," Jean admitted. And he would know, seeing that he was in the room when it happened. "That, and how Brutalism and Stalinist Architecture just look fucking ugly."
Sakuya's Butler
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Oddly (and kinda creepily...) enough, that is near a word for word match for what one of my art professors at UW back in 2003 stated about Brutalist architecture designs. If however she went 'Souless, Godless machines', rather than the other way around. Then started comparing Brutalist engineering in the same terms as a beehive - built for efficency, cheap storage, massive numbers of unthinking drones, and not one iota spent for living, breathing, human beings.
Yeah, its been 20 years, but it stuck with me.
Yeah, its been 20 years, but it stuck with me.
Nicely done - I think a combination of Art Nouveau and Modernism would be much more striking than a combination of Art Deco and Modernism though, to differentiate French architecture from American architecture (that here will probably resemble a combination of Gotham City and Columbia/Rapture); basically La Défense, but more dense and walkable, and even the tallest skyscrapers are colourful and draped from head to toe in actual plants or, at least, nature-inspired motifs.
For Italy, I think a Bhutan-like approach for older areas (when something can't be renovated, it should be rebuilt in the same style of the historical buildings surrounding it) coupled with some deliberately subversive and weird takes on Fascist architecture for the newer areas (monumental classicism, sure, but in the very colourful style of actual Roman buildings and temples; Futurist-inspired modernism, of course, but just as colourful as said neo-Roman architecture and just as green as the new France's literal takes on Art Nouveau naturalism).
Given the tendency of Italian cities to take potshots at each other with a frequency that's barely diminished since the Late Middle Ages, even those modern buildings might take up some local flavour: the same architect might get hired to give a Modernist spin on the nuraghe in Sardinia, only to partially recycle that model in Sicily, except modified as a throwback to Arabic architecture reinforced by modern concrete and steel, complete with minaret-like towers.
For Italy, I think a Bhutan-like approach for older areas (when something can't be renovated, it should be rebuilt in the same style of the historical buildings surrounding it) coupled with some deliberately subversive and weird takes on Fascist architecture for the newer areas (monumental classicism, sure, but in the very colourful style of actual Roman buildings and temples; Futurist-inspired modernism, of course, but just as colourful as said neo-Roman architecture and just as green as the new France's literal takes on Art Nouveau naturalism).
Given the tendency of Italian cities to take potshots at each other with a frequency that's barely diminished since the Late Middle Ages, even those modern buildings might take up some local flavour: the same architect might get hired to give a Modernist spin on the nuraghe in Sardinia, only to partially recycle that model in Sicily, except modified as a throwback to Arabic architecture reinforced by modern concrete and steel, complete with minaret-like towers.
ChrisProvidence
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Interesting.
Oddly enough, I went with a more Chaplin-inspired perspective, based on his ending speech from The Great Dictator. Particularly the part where he says, "You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men!"
It's kind of the underlying theme when I'm writing the French socialist characters who see the future and its technologies as the means to achieve the kind of world he describes in that speech.
Different countries have a different underlying themes, such as China actively trying to avoid the mistakes of the past and the Americans' embracing of the more-positive aspects of American Exceptionalism where they strive to become that City on a Hill.
- Location
- United States
But I kinda like the look anyway? Not sure if that's a road or a river underneath, but either way I like it. Huh.
ChrisProvidence
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Thanks.
I think I'll go with your recommendation to use some Art Nouveau for France to differentiate it from America's Art Deco. With WWI being butterflied, this could keep the style going longer.
The inclusion of greenery would definitely play off some of the more eco-socialist ideals.
As for the rest of Europe, I'm thinking Iberia will go with a sort of neo-Mudejar, while Italy will either go with the sort of colorful neoclassical design you described or the Palazzo-style of architecture.
German architecture will probably be more Neotraditional and Modern, while Britain and Ireland will be more Neo-Georgian and Modernist
Practicality is the main focus when it comes to post-Great War architecture and internal amenities, but there will definitely be cues from these aesthetics at least on the exteriors.
Actually, that would be a pretty good metaphor for them: Here you have something that is uniquely British/French/German/Iberian/Italian in aesthetic, but built for the future.
In a similar way, the European socialists of SST seek to marry the positive (or at least neutral) aspects of their cultures to what they see as the ideology of the future.
ChrisProvidence
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Also, for the record, my dislike of Brutalism comes from growing up outside of Providence and spending summers going to camps at the Community College of Rhode Island.The entire building was made out of concrete and glass, and my younger self just thought it was cold and boring.
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- Location
- San Francisco
Brutalism has its place. Generally in industrial settings imo. Applying it to civic structures is a sign of creeping authoritarianism.
The entire building was made out of concrete and glass, and my younger self just thought it was cold and boring.
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You think that's bad?
Look up the Brutalist designed apartments in Quebec, Habitat 67, that look like hundreds of concrete Rubik's Cubes held together on a string and then tossed onto the ground in a heap....
And note, its a lot, lot, LOT, longer than that image shows. About 5x as long as it is tall.
Many a Quebecois likely would thank you dearly for avoiding that eyesore from ever existing.
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- Location
- San Francisco
You think that's bad?
Look up the Brutalist designed apartments in Quebec, Habitat 67, that look like hundreds of concrete Rubik's Cubes held together on a string and then tossed onto the ground in a heap....
And note, its a lot, lot, LOT, longer than that image shows. About 5x as long as it is tall.
Many a Quebecois likely would thank you dearly for avoiding that eyesore from ever existing.
That's not a building. That's a fucking Picasso made of cement that that crawled out of its frame.
I have been thinking though, the US never really became the manufacturing juggernaut it was post-WW2 until well...WW2. It was picking up steam, but without all of Europe being utterly destroyed, TWICE, something tells me they'll remain a much more agrarian society this time around. Potentially this could lead to farming being a major part of US education. 4H clubs and such could be a major part of the post-Great Journey US community.